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keanureevesisbae · 11 months

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 01. jailbreak

Spencer Reid x Elodie Price (asian/pacific islander/moluccan OFC)

Summary: When serial killer Rowan Rancher escaped from prison, it's up to the BAU to not only find him, but also his daughter.

Serie warnings: Mention of murder, blood. Mention of rape (not described). Eventual smut.

Chapter warnings: Mention of murder and blood. Indirect mention of rape. Just a murderer in general already.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: So, believe it or not, but I am not a genius 🤷🏽‍♀️ So everything Spencer says is either literally copy paste from Wikipedia or I attempted to do math and calculate shit myself. So I hope you like 😘

Masterlist // Beyond Words Masterlist

Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were - Marcel Proust

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Them

‘We’ve got a situation,’ agent Aaron Hotchner, unit chief of the Quantico’s Behavioral Analysis unit, says to his team, as they’ve all gathered for this case. ‘Rowan Rancher has escaped the prison facility in Texas.’

‘Rowan Rancher murdered twenty four women aged twenty seven to forty one—that we know of—over the course of seven years. His preference was for brunettes with blue eyes, which is a clear resemblance of his mother Megan Rancher. However, victim number twenty five was a man named Wendall Regal. It was actually the first murder he confessed after he was arrested and it was the only murder he didn’t deny.’ Spencer Reid’s eyes go through the file, absorbing the information he practically knew by heart already. ‘Rowan Rancher had a daughter. Rossi, weren’t you the one who interrogated her?’

SSA David Rossi leans back in his chair, looking at one of the pictures in the files. It was a graduation picture of Elodie Rancher, the daughter of Rowan Rancher. ‘I was,’ he answers. ‘She led us to the fifteen burial sites.’

Rossi remembers the pain and hurt he saw in the eyes of Elodie, a fragile seventeen year old, completely damaged by her serial killer father. Because Rowan and Elodie traveled a lot, the burial sites were scattered over the country. Some in Nevada, others in California, a few in Florida, one in Hawaii, more in Maine and the remaining ones in the Washington state, where Rancher finally was caught.

‘I helped her with a new identity,’ Rossi continues, ‘gave her a bit of a boost to start her life. Therapy, more counseling and eventually she stopped updating me I assumed it went well.’

‘Elodie Rancher now goes by Elodie Price,’ tech savvy Penelope Garcia says, pulling a newer picture of Elodie on the screen. She lost the innocent look, the deep dark circles under her eyes and the sunken cheeks. She grew her hair out, the shoulder length waves made way for long luscious locks of black hair. A septum piercing, a few hints of tattoos. While back when she still lived with Rowan Rancher she had almost a girly and angelic aura, she now looks tougher.

Broken.

‘Where do we think Rowan Rancher went?’ JJ asks. ‘Because judging from the enormous amounts of deranged fan mail this man receives, he has plenty of places to hide.’

Rossi shakes his head. ‘No, there was only one thing that set this man off. That made him irritable and that was the absence of his daughter. He’ll use the women who sent him those fan mails and were stupid enough to put their addresses on it to get him closer to who he truly wants.’

‘Elodie Price,’ Derek notes. ‘Baby girl, is she on a lot of social media?’

‘Nope,’ Garcia says. ’She has a tiny social media footprint. The only times facial rec got a hit was because she was partially in a picture of someone else, but this girl is practically a ghost.’

‘Where does she currently live?’ Emily Prentiss asks.

‘Right here in Quantico,’ Garcia answers. ‘She works from home as a translator. English to Dutch and vice versa.’

‘Dutch is a West Germanic language spoken by approximately twenty five million people as a first language and five million as a second language. Actually it’s one of the closest relatives of both German and English and, like the English language, hasn’t undergone the High German consonant shift, therefore it doesn’t use the Germanic umlaut, has largely abandoned the use of the subjunctive and has leveled much of its morphology, including most of its case system.’

While Spencer takes a deep breath to continue, agent Hotchner figures it’s the best moment to divide tasks. ‘I want Prentiss and JJ on the jet to Texas, to help out the local police departments and prison employees to communicate with the public. Rossi and Reid, go pay Elodie Price a visit. Morgan, you and I will stay here and set up a task force in order to locate Rowan Rancher. Garcia?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘I want you to try and trace Rancher’s steps. I want an exact step by step track record of when he escaped, his route and where he can possibly reside.’

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Her

Sometimes I am not too sure whether or not my ability to spot lies from miles away is a blessing or a curse. I’m one hundred percent certain the Starbucks barista who just wished me a nice day, rather wished me and every customer prior and after me would get hit by a bus. The slight tension in her jaw, the dark eyes.

She is not in an excellent mood.

With my Chai Latte with a pump of caramel, I make my way back to my place. I barely leave the safe walls of my apartment and when I do leave, it’s to do groceries, grab a coffee and go to the local independent bookstores.

My life is simple and simple is all I need.

Once back home in my studio apartment, I sit down at my dinner table that serves as my work space for the next upcoming three hours. I’ve finished a lot of my work already, meaning I can either work ahead or call it a day.

Becoming a translator is honestly not the job I thought I’d do for the rest of my life, but translating technical manuals, school texts books and other boring things requires very little interaction with others and for now, that is what I need.

The fear of someone recognizing me as Elodie Rancher is a fear I assume I will carry with me till the day I die.

Three knocks on my door and I stretch out my neck, as if that enhances my hearing. Thinking it’s my senile neighbor Dolores again, I stand up and look through the peephole, before deciding if I’ll be home to deal with her antics again.

But it’s not Dolores. It’s someone else.

Two people. Men. And they both look familiar.

When I open the door, I see David Rossi standing there, the man who helped me gain footing again after my father was arrested back in Washington. ‘Mister Rossi,’ I manage to choke out.

‘Elodie,’ he says, ‘how are you doing?’

All of the sudden, I am seventeen again. Traumatized, fearful and not too sure what to do with my life. ‘Something happened,’ I conclude, not answering the question. ‘Something involving my father.’

David Rossi lets out a deep sigh. ‘Elodie, can we come in?’

I take a step to the side, letting David Rossi and the man next to him inside. He’s tall—like, a lot taller than to my below average height—and says: ‘I’m Doctor Spencer Reid.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I listen to your seminars sometimes.’

That piques his interest. ‘Seriously?’

’Yeah,’ I answer, closing the door behind him. Seeing these agents standing in my living room, causes me to nearly shake with anxiety. ‘What happened?’

‘Rowan Rancher has escaped prison.’

Five words, but they are enough to knock all air out of my lungs. My father escaped prison? He’s been incarcerated for eight years, how on earth did he manage to do that? My father is smart, no doubt, but escapism appeared to be something that was part of fiction.

Not reality.

‘Oh,’ is the intelligent answer I manage to muster up.

‘We have reason to believe that you are in possible danger if he figures out where you are,’ David Rossi continues, ‘therefore we want to offer you a deal.’

‘Okay?’

‘You help us with an eventual profile, tracking his steps, since you are truly the only one who knows him better than anyone. We’ll make sure you are in safe hands, always flanked by an agent.’

Deep down I want to say no. I don’t want protection, but knowing the lengths my father goes through to finish what he started, I have to help them.

Otherwise the Rowan Rancher victim count will only increase again.

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‘The Maluku Islands are an archipelago in the eastern part of Indonesia. Geographically they are located east of Sulawesi, west of New Guinea and north and east of Timor. The islands have been considered a geographical and cultural intersection of Asia and Oceania. Actually—fun fact—the islands were known as the Spice Islands, because of the nutmeg, mace and cloves that were exclusively found there.’

Believe it or not, I didn’t ask for this explanation about the Maluku Islands. However, when I said to Spencer Reid my mother was a Moluccan woman born in The Netherlands, it ignited something in him to tell me all about my heritage.

But honestly I am not complaining about said history lesson. While I told the doctor I sometimes listen to his seminars, little does anyone know I actually listen to his seminars to go to sleep. The tidal waves of information that rolls from his tongue in a fast pace, causes me to dive into a deep night sleep. Not because I’m bored, but because I’m calmed down.

‘Sorry, Elodie,’ the man who introduced himself as Derek Morgan says, ‘there isn’t an off switch on this kid.’

‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘No need to turn him off.’

Back at the Quantico headquarters, I’m quickly adopted by their technical analyst Penelope Garcia, under the close supervision of David Rossi. I’m staring at the last picture of my father, one pulled from security footage ten miles away from the prison. Ever since that moment, it almost appears like he’s a ghost. Evaporated into thin air.

‘It had been my father and I since I was five,’ I whisper, but it’s loud enough for the other two to hear me. ’My mother ran off, unable to live with Rowan, because of his personality.’

Penelope turns to me. ‘And she just left you there?’

‘Yeah. When… When mister Rossi reached out to her after my father was caught, she hung up the phone after telling him I was doomed to fail anyway. She now lives in Australia, has three kids and is the stepmom of a girl who was my age. Who apparently wasn’t doomed to fail.’

Penelope places her hand on my shoulder and whispers: ‘I’m sorry.’

I quickly push aside the thoughts, before I tell them I have to use the restroom. Once done there, I walk passed the bullpen, witnessing Spencer bowed over a map. I push open the door and walk up to him. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask.

‘According to the traceable steps of Rowan Rancher pulled by Garcia, it occurred to me that he travels predominantly east.’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘That’s what he always said to me. When in doubt, go east. No idea why, but he just said that.’

‘It is essentially what you did,’ Spencer says. ‘Going from Washington state to Wyoming, then Iowa and then settling in Virginia, is traveling east.’ Spencer continues on to tell me about the landmarks Rowan Rancher will encounter when he continues to travel east, however I say: ‘He met my mother in Columbus, Ohio.’

When David Rossi first found me, I barely could muster up the energy nor the memories to tell him this information. Instead of talking about it, I pushed it down. My mother wasn’t a USA citizen and considering she at first was practically untraceable and then made it very clear she didn’t want to talk about Rowan Rancher, every bit of information about him came back to me.

But I was useless when I was seventeen.

I will not make the same mistake at the tender age of twenty five.

‘They met at the botanical gardens, if I remember correctly,’ I say.

Compared to Spencer Reid, my memory was severely lacking.

‘The Franklin Park Conservatory and Botanical Gardens,’ he recites.

’Yeah, somewhere near the Pacific Island part.’

‘Pacific Island Water Garden.’

‘I think so.’

Spencer Reid tilts his head. ‘We don’t know why exactly Rowan Rancher escaped. In the time he was incarcerated, he only received fanmail, had zero visitors and doesn’t interact with fellow prisoners.’

‘He escaped because he thinks he didn’t do anything wrong,’ I say. ‘Murdering Wendall Regal was different, but according to the way he would think, I only assume he’d think his sentence is done with the eight years.’

I did it for you, baby. No man can do what he did to you. Shivers run down my spine as I hear my father’s voice, covered in the blood of Wendall Regal.

‘I think he just wants to retrace the steps of happiness. When he met my mother, I guess he was happy. When I was born in Miami, Florida during a storm in a hotel room, I guess he was happy.’

‘Can you tell me all the places where you remember your father was happy?’ Spencer asks.

And all I can do is nod, before I go back deep into my memory, hopefully able to help the people catch my father.

■□■□■□■□■□■

Five days. It took them five days and one female victim before they caught my dad in Miami Florida, near the same hotel I was born. The female victim was one of his fans, one of the people who was stupid enough to write down her address on the fan mail, instead of a post office box. She wasn’t my father’s normal type—this woman was fifty years old, had died red hair and had brown eyes—but she also wasn’t murdered in a manner it would be recognized to be murdered by my father.

The only thing that gave away what he did, was the ERR carved in her skin. Elodie Rowan Rancher. My real name. The name he gave to me. It was him who named me Elodie. It was him who insisted on having a middle name identical to his own name. It was him who laughed at my mom for possibly thinking it would be okay I was gonna have my mom’s surname.

ERR.

I sometimes think he killed because of me. I wondered what I did to make him do that.

My time here at the BAU has come to an end. After saying my goodbyes to everyone, together with Spencer I step into the elevator. I accidentally told him how the 1994 movie Speed with Keanu Reeves is my favorite movie.

‘The movie premiered in Hollywood on June 7th 1994, only to be released to the rest of the United States three days later. It became critically and commercially successful and the fifth-highest-grossing movie of 1994.’

‘It won two Academy Awards,’ I interject. ‘For Best Sound Effects Editing and Best Sound.’

Spencer turns to the side, a wide smile toying on his lips. Those puppy eyes nearly glimmer, almost like he’s delighted that I’m adding information to it. ‘Exactly. The sequel Speed 2: Cruise Control was actually nominated for eight Golden Raspberry Awards, winning the Worst Remake or Sequel category. The Golden Raspberry Awards is a parody award show honoring the worst of cinematic failures. They say it’s due to the absence of Keanu Reeves, who decided not to reprise his role as Jack Traven.’

‘Who is the most awarded actor?’ I ask. ‘Of those awards?’

‘Sylvester Stallone. He was nominated thirty three times and won eleven Golden Raspberry Awards.’

The way to my place is filled with these types of conversations. Including Spencer Reid reciting a good ten minutes of the movie Speed. I knew his brain was mesmerizing, but there is something so endearing about seeing it in real life.

Once we’re standing in front of my door, I say: ‘Thank you, for making these odd couple of days bearable.’

‘Five days,’ he says, because he simply can’t help himself.

‘Five days,’ I repeat. I open the door of my place and say: ‘Thank you, Spencer.’

‘Thank you for your help. Thanks to you I could make a clear geographical map of important places for Rancher, meaning I could better pinpoint the spots he could be, thanks to Garcia’s sightings. Also, thank you for identifying the mark on the victim.’

‘Of course,’ I say, clenching my jaw, trying to push it down. ‘Well, you should go home. It’s been a rough few days.’

‘Actually, the best time for me to go to bed is either at eight in the evening or eleven. Considering it’s nine fifteen now, I have to wait one hour and forty-five minutes before I can fall asleep. However, it still is a thirty minute commute back to my place and if all goes well, I’ve got enough time to read the entire Harry Potter series and the first book of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I could then read approximately eighty percent of book two, the Two Towers.’

‘Right,’ I say, my head spinning a little because of this load of information. ‘Well, you better get going then.’

He smiles. ‘Yeah, I should.’ He awkwardly holds up his hand. ‘Bye.’

And I watch Spencer clutching onto his bag, making his way to the elevator and for the first time in a long time, I feel a smile on my face.

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Beyond Words Taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel // @beenthroughalot // @chickensarentcheap //

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x ofc #spencer reid x asian ofc #spencer x elodie price #asian ofc #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #beyond words #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfic

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foreverrandomwritings · 10 months

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First off, love the new theme babes.

Second off, for the fanfic asks: 8, 10, 16, 19, 23

Third off: 😘

First off: thank you. I have a case of Emily Prentiss brain rot that just won’t go away🧠☠️

Second off:Thank you for the ask sugar❣️

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

I currently have way to fucking many WIP’s; Actions Speak Louder Than Words, Coast to Coast, Controversially Young Girlfriend, a Stiles Stilinski series, an ACOTAR series and a couple requests that I have gotten recently. I have more series that I’m going to start but haven’t actually written anything for yet.

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

That would be my Robert “Bob” Floyd x afab!Reader Hands Oneshot. I did not imagine in my wildest dreams that it would get over like 100 notes, It’s now sitting at 885 notes.

16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles?

Not gonna lie sometimes I start with the titles and then work around that idea. Other times I’m in the middle of writing and the idea will strike me. On my Stiles fic I just posted last Wednesday I originally named it Adventures In Sleep and posted it as such before renaming it Treehouse Therapy.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

Coast to Coast Javy “Coyote” Machado x OC!Stella

But she wasn’t sure she would be able to do what he asked of her. If she could fight the shadows of the past. She accepted the task anyway. Not wanting to disappoint the man who had been so patient and understanding of her. She prepared herself to look into the nightmares she had buried away.

23.How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)?

I’m actually pretty fucking good at this. I hate reading chapters that are to long so I take that into mind when I’m writing. I try to cap them at like 4,500 words. Though I don’t think anything I’ve written has even gone over that. I also try to think of TV shows I’ve watched and how they end each episode.

Third off: she looks so god damn pretty in that it makes me sick😩

#thank you for the asks Sylv!#m hearts s #ask game

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leftoverenvy · 2 years

Text

Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 7)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades. Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune. The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend. As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur. But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: eventual smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18)

Word Count: 2.7k

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @milfprotector 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @scargarcia-magshotchner 💜; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @spencersendgame

Chapter 7 - Welcome Home

Emily's POV

Emily: On the jet – I'll be home tonight. Can we move you in tomorrow?

Indi 💘: Can we wait until the weekend?

Emily: Art gallery opening is this weekend, remember?

Indi 💘: You never sent me a schedule…

Emily: Shit Emily: Surprise! Art gallery opening is this weekend! Emily: We need to find you a dress. Move in tomorrow and dress shop Friday?

Indi 💘: I can make that work. Can't wait to see you

Emily: I'm sorry we have to do this in the middle of the week. I want you to focus on classes, but this way you can be settled before the chaos starts. I can't wait to see you either, sweetheart 😘

______________________________

On Thursday evening, I was swimming with anticipation. I was nervous she would beat me home. I went to Sephora and Target for her and bought any bathroom toiletry a girl could possibly need. Indi would finally move in tonight and I wanted her to be comfortable. I already knew her to be a girl who wouldn't ask for something she needed, so I wanted to cover all her bases.

I was just putting the last hair cream in the cupboard when I heard the doorbell ring. I rushed down the stairs to open the door. I smiled brightly only to be met by a confused India looking me up and down. Maybe she wasn't expecting me to be so casual, but no one can wear a suit all the time. She shook her head as if to shake whatever thought she was thinking out of her head and walked in.

I welcomed her and took her suitcase. "Let me show you to your room." We walked near each other, our shoulders brushing as we moved up the stairs. "Here you go," I said placing her suitcase at the foot of her bed. "If you don't like anything, I can have it changed quickly. Please don't live in a room you don't like. You won't hurt my feelings."

She looked around wide-eyed. "Em," she said breathlessly, "It's gorgeous! Look at these windows!" she said rushing across the room. "I can't quite tell in the dark…does it face the creek?"

"Yes," I said sheepishly. I chose this room for her because she seemed to have liked the creek so much; I wanted her to have an unobstructed view.

"It's great, Em. Really. Thank you," she said turning around to face me.

"I'll uh, leave you to settle in…" I bit my lip again and shuffled my feet. "When you're done, if you aren't too tired, could we talk about tomorrow?" I didn't know why I was so nervous. I had all the power here. But as soon as the thought entered my head, I knew it was false. This girl already had so much power over me. She could ruin me almost instantly.

I wandered back downstairs, grabbed a bottle of wine, poured a glass for myself, and grabbed an extra glass for Indi. I curled up on the couch with my current book. I had only read a few pages when I heard her soft footsteps on the stairs.

"That was fast," I noted.

She ignored me and asked, "What's up with half the Sephora that now lives in my bathroom?"

I chuckled nervously. "I want you to have everything you need…"

"It's unnecessary, Em. You didn't have to do that." I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Would she ever get used to this?

She looked near the piano and I knew she saw her welcome home present when her eyes widened comically large. "What is that?" she asked, a note of admiration in her voice. She moved towards the piano to get a better look.

I stood up to be closer to her. "It's a welcoming present."

"Emily! This is a Gibson!"

"Yes," I said hesitantly. I wasn't sure if this was going to cause a fight like the phone. I hoped the phone incident was just a fluke.

"This is a $5,000 guitar!" she continued. The fact that she knew just how much this Gibson cost told me exactly how well I did picking it out for her; clearly she had done her research and wanted it. I wouldn't deny it so I just looked at her. "I don't even know how to play the guitar," she pointed out.

"Well now you can learn," I said nonchalantly.

She closed the distance between us by launching herself into my open arms. Though unexpected, I couldn't help but be delighted at her embrace. She fit perfectly in my arms, and as soon as our skin touched, that addicting energy pulsed between us. It felt like the last piece of the puzzle clicking into place.

I was stunned by how quickly she accepted the guitar. Maybe the trick, like with the phone, was just to buy and ask for forgiveness, not permission. Or maybe, she had finally gotten over whatever aversion it was she had to being spoiled. Who would have thought? A sugar baby who didn't want to be spoiled?

"Can I get a tour of the house?" she asked, still in my arms. I nodded and let her go, albeit reluctantly. As we moved around the house, I was always too aware of where she was. Some invisible force pulled me near her. It was like she was the sun, and I was caught in her gravitational pull. It was like my body was begging to touch hers.

I placed my hand at the small of her back as I directed her around the downstairs to show her the library and my office. I couldn't help but remember how it felt to ghost my fingers down her back when we were at the restaurant. It was so possessive of me, but when I saw men staring at her on our first date, I had to do something to claim her. It was like my hands had a mind of their own. Regarding touch, my rights were limited, so I had to settle for a hand on her back. I had to constantly remind myself that a simple touch had to be enough.

But we weren't at the restaurant tonight. There were no men leering at my India. I should have been more in control of myself. I had no excuse to touch her. But my fingers nevertheless ached when they weren't touching her. So I gave in; I was weak. But at least I was touching her.

"Woah!" she said awestruck by the library. "Can I read in here?"

"That is what it's for," I teased.

She bumped her shoulder into me. "Don't be smart. I don't want to intrude in your spaces."

"India," I turned her to face me head on, to look me in the eyes. "For the next four months, this is your home. I want you to be comfortable here. There aren't restrictions on where you can go or what you can do." I stopped myself. "I take that back." She smirked. "Maybe don't reorganize my office."

"I think I can handle that."

"The only 'rule,'" I said putting air quotes around it, "Is that I'd like to know when you're having guests. Not that you can't, I'd just like to know." She nodded. "So read away my little book worm."

When we got to the garage, her eyes widened again. Admittedly, the garage was huge. I had a whole, separate building specially built and then a connecting, covered walkway to the house. "So," I said a bit shy. "Uh, this is the garage…I, uh, maybe have a thing for fast cars."

"I'll say! These are all yours??" she asked, her eyes sweeping over my four cars.

"Yeah…" I cleared my throat. "Anyway, I cleared a spot. That one there," I said pointing. "You can park there. I'll leave an opener to get in on the counter for you tomorrow."

When we got back inside, we flopped on the couch and I handed her a glass of wine. I was pleased to note she hadn't sat as far away from me as she had the first night she was here. Any progress, no matter how small, was a win in my book. "So…" I started. "I was thinking maybe we should craft a story about how we 'got together.' You know, just in case it comes up."

"I think that's a sensible plan, Ms. Prentiss." My stomach tightened at her formality. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Well," I wasn't sure how embarrassing it would be to admit I had thought about this a lot. I didn't want to freak her out. "I guess it depends on how much of yourself you want to be?"

Her brow furrowed in that frustratingly adorable way. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, well. Some sugar babies want to craft a different backstory than their own. I wasn't sure if you wanted to do that…"

"Do YOU want me to do that?" she turned it around.

I was rather partial to her true background. "No."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I don't know if I could keep up with being two people." Oh, if only she knew how difficult it really was…

"So then maybe I met you at school?"

Her brow crinkled again, this time, her nose scrunching up with it. God she was cute. And she had no idea what an effect she had on me. "What would you be doing at Georgetown? A lecture?"

I shook my head. "I was thinking more along the lines of a benefactor being at a recital to see how the Performing Arts Department is doing…"

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth raised in a smirk. "You sure you want to admit to being infatuated with me so early on?" she teased.

"I can think of worse things," I admitted sincerely, my eyes staring into hers.

"I assume it's safe to say you are a benefactor for the Performing Arts Department, and that isn't just for the story?"

"It is safe to say that, yes." I gulped. I didn't want her to think I was encroaching on her space.

"Thank you for supporting my education before you even knew me, then," she joked, raising her glass as a toast. I laughed – she never ceased to surprise me. "So at this recital," she continued.

"Mmmhm?" I took a sip of wine.

"Did you simply have to come talk to me? Did you woo me? Sweep me off my feet?" She was laughing at herself. Her tone was joking, but I couldn't stop staring at her in wonderment. She looked so pretty when her eyes sparkled like that. Even though she was teasing me, I couldn't help but be grateful to hear such a beautiful laugh. "Did you see me and immediately fall in love?"

"Yes," I answered softly. I wished I could take it back. I prayed she would understand it as only answering for our crafted story. I prayed she would ignore the weighty double-meaning of my response. I had to quickly change the subject.

"What were your past relationships like?" Great. As if that topic of conversation were any better than this one.

"I see we aren't done playing 50 Questions," she joked. I quirked an eyebrow at her. "I've only had one girlfriend," she answered reluctantly. "It obviously did not work out."

"You sound upset about that…"

"Not at all. I mean, of course I was hurt at the time, but she wasn't right for me."

"How so?" I had to know. My sense of boundaries was completely erased with this girl. I wanted to know everything about her.

She averted her eyes, obviously a bit uncomfortable. "She just wasn't supportive of my studies." I frowned.

"Were you in love?"

She looked me straight in the eyes. "No."

"You've never been in love?" I asked in shock.

"Not yet," she said softly, but her eyes were boring into mine. I felt something shift in my chest. Hope leaped inside me, keeping time with my pounding heart. Before I could admit I loved her again, I had to change the subject.

"So you've mentioned books several times now…" I said, lightening the mood.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. Let me just showcase what a nerd I am by talking nonstop about books and drooling over your library. I'm sure that's so attractive."

"It is," I assured her sincerely. She scoffed. "I'm serious! I'm a big nerd too. I love to read – always have. Even as a kid, I always had a book in my hand. I mean, I have a library in my home for god's sake!"

"Who's your favorite author?"

"Only one?!" I asked outraged. She giggled at me and I willed myself to commit the sound to memory. Her laugh was infectious, precious. I wanted to hear it every day.

"Mmmhm," she affirmed, "Only one."

I sighed. "Kurt Vonnegut then."

"Ahh Mother Night."

"You've read it?!" I asked far too excitedly.

"Of course I have. Maybe the best book I've ever read."

"Yes!" I nearly shouted. I couldn't believe how excited I was letting myself get over a book. The last time I talked about Vonnegut on a date, I didn't get a call back. But this wasn't a date, I had to remind myself. "And Slaughterhouse Five."

She grimaced. "I have to say, I didn't love Slaughterhouse Five."

"What!" I gasped. "How?!"

"I don't know. It just didn't speak to me. It was too jumbled for me, the organization and timeline."

"But that's the point," I argued.

"I know," she teased back. "Doesn't make it any easier to read."

"Well who's YOUR favorite author, then?" I asked slightly put out.

She blushed and bit at her lip. "Would it be terrible for me to say it's impossible to answer that question?"

My jaw dropped. "After you made me answer it?" She nodded, her lip still caught between her teeth. It was quite distracting. "And after you said Vonnegut sucks??"

"I didn't say Vonnegut sucked," she corrected, exasperated, "I said Slaughterhouse Five sucked." Her foot darted out across the couch to nudge me, her lips now twisted into a teasing smirk. I wanted to wipe that smirk off her face and had to resist the urge to grab her foot and pull her onto my lap so I could do just that.

"Anyway-" I had to change the subject before I did something stupid. I would never forgive myself if I did anything to cause her to end this agreement before it had really even begun. I threw back the rest of my wine as if it were a shot. "We should go to bed. Sleep in – no rush to get up early. But we need to shop for a dress for you. Saturday's the gallery opening. You need a nice cocktail dress."

"I left your schedule on your dresser. I don't know if you saw it" – she nodded – "but everything marked on there is required. And don't worry, we'll make sure you get appropriate dresses before each event. Do you want me to hire hair and makeup for you, too?"

"No, I think I can manage. If you disagree, we can talk about it?" She looked nervous.

"I'm sure that won't be the case, India. You're gorgeous no matter what." I was really going to have to learn to develop a filter if this was how it was going to be from now on. I needed to get out of there. I was already so gone over her.

"Okay!" I said, getting off the couch. "See you in the morning!" And I walked briskly out of the room. Once I was out of her sight, I ran as quietly, but as quickly, as I could up the stairs into the safety of my room. She was dangerous, fluttering and stirring feelings in my chest I hadn't felt in years. I berated myself because she wasn't mine to have. I was only renting her for a few short months.

_ _ _

Continue to next chapter

#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing

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fandomtookoverlife · 3 years

Text

Surprises

Hotch x daughter!reader

Spencer x reader

female!reader

Summary: you visit your dad at the office to surprise him but you find a bigger surprise while meeting his team.

Note: Italics are reader thoughts

Warning: swaering

Word count: 2000

Category: fluff

A/N: new to writing and I love feedback, idk how good this is but I like it. Maybe I’ll do a fic of them having coffee or the reader having conversations with Hotch and Rossi or my absolute favourite: dinner party at Rossi’s. Lmk what you think, don’t judge too hard and I hope you like it 😘❤️❤️

(@mac99martin is my other blog)

Masterlist

---

“Knock knock” you push open the door to your father’s office, honestly it’s kind of weird, you’ve never actually been here before, it’s so busy- also intimidating.

“Baby!” you dropped your bag on the chair by the door.

“Hey dad.” your dad stands up and wraps his arms around you, of course, you are thrilled to see your father. It’s been far too long and you felt a little guilty about that, and you missed him, a lot.

“I didn’t know you were coming today, you didn’t have to come all the way here”

“ya, but I wanted to surprise you.'' The smile on your dad’s face alone made it worth the trip.

“Well, I love surpris-” he got cut off mid-sentence, you looked to where you heard the new voice start speaking.

“Hey, Hotch?..Oh, sorry,” she’s very pretty, she’s blonde and petite, her voice warm and inviting.

“Don’t worry JJ, this is my daughter, Y/N.”

“Oh, Y/N, hi it’s so nice to finally meet you!” And she knows who I am?

“Hi, uh ya, you too.” god you sound dumb

“Hey, why don’t we introduce you to the rest of the team.”

You smiled at your father, you didn’t like meeting new people, you already screwed up your introduction to JJ, now you have to do that how many more times? but your father thinks of them as family, so, “I’d love to”

He wrapped his arm around you and lead you down the stairs, “Morgan, Prentiss, this is my daughter, Y/N”

The man stepped forward first, he’s tall, dark, handsome, wearing a very tight dress shirt showing his very large muscles, wow, he is just, wow “Hey there, I’m Derek” did he just wink at me? Never the less you take his hand. The woman steps up next, she is dressed very professionally, you saw her when you came in, she looked -busy. mostly scary

“I’m Emily. It’s nice to meet you” she shot Derek a glare, well she seems nice and by the look she gave Derek, your kind of person. Not to mention how very assuming it was.

“Hey, there kiddo!”

Your face lit up when you heard his voice, “Dave!” he comes down the stairs and you run and hug him. You have known Dave for years, he’s always been so kind to you, joking with you, comforting you, he has a special place in your heart, and you in his.

“Hello, Bella.” you smile even grew, becoming wider than it was before at the nickname he gave you.

“Oh! hugging I love hugging! Why are we hugging!” I have no idea who that is but wow is she happy.

“Penelope this is my daughter Y/N,”

“Oh! Hello!” she ran and pulled you into a very tight hug “It is so nice to meet you!” she gasped, “my! You are so pretty” you blushed and thanked her, oh Penelope, your dad told you about her, she is exactly how he described, bright and colourful, not only physically but her presence is so energetic.

“Where’s Reid?” … Did he say Reid? “Ah, Y/N, lastly this is Reid.” you turn to see where your father is motioning.

Shit, omg, shitttttt. As soon as you saw his face you recognise him. it had been a while and he had changed a lot but it was him. He hadn’t seen you yet and your heart is pounding.

——

You and Spencer, it was complicated. You were both in your last year of university when you met, and you were both graduating the last time you saw each other. When you met you were so taken back by him, he was tall, awkward and undeniably cute. You bumped into him, spilling your coffee, you were in a rush, late to class as always. You both apologised profusely before going on your way, later that day you were both walking back from the classes you were headed to when you had met earlier that day. That’s when you bumped into him, again. This time you knocked all the many books out of his arms, you helped him pick it up, that's when you realised it was the same guy as earlier, that’s when you realised how attractive he was. You were both embarrassed, you end up playing it off saying, “what are the chances, twice in one day.” he went on to tell you the mathematical probabilities of it happening and other stuff that you, to this day, do not understand. You exchanged numbers and immediately became infatuated with each other’s presence, spending every free second with each other. It was so perfect, but it ended. Things got.. messy and you broke up. Both of you were extremely hurt and heartbroken, there was no fixing it, you haven’t spoken since. You both always stayed slightly mad at each other, but really, you both just resented the part each of you played in your break up, mostly hating yourselves for it rather than each other.

——

But here he was standing in front of you, your heart just about stopped when you made eye contact. Your insides twisted, this was the last place you expected to see him. And yet here he was, right in front of you. With your anxiety levels rising and against better judgement, you step forward, deep breath, in-out, “hey” you both looked stunned, to say you were both surprised would be an understatement. You slowly step closer to him, breathe,

“Oh um, h-hi” you smile slightly at his familiar awkwardness.

Walking closer and closer, “it’s um, it’s been a while” your nervousness unfortunately apparent.

“Y-ya, it-it has.” you smiled at him, oh how he missed that smile. The way it lights up a room, the way it could cheer him up on the worst of days. You took a final step forward stretching your arm out to hug him, he took in your embrace. Finally remembering how well his arms fit around your waist, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, your hair always smelled so good, so soft and beautiful. And you were warm and loving, standing there with you it was like no time had passed at all.

Spencer hugged you, putting his arms around you like he always had, face pressed into your neck, I guess some things never change. You put your arms around his neck and you pulled him in tight, your chin resting on his shoulder, closing your eyes you felt relaxed, at peace. His arms are where you always felt safest, at home. Your fingers brush the locks of hair at the back of his head, it’s short and curly, very different from when you were together, but still so soft and cute.

You both pull back slightly. His hand moving from your waist to the back of his head, “You visiting your dad I’m assuming?” he asked a little sheepishly. And quietly so that no one could here. with a slight grimace on his face.

Your eyebrows furrowed, something you got from your father, and your eyes narrowed “Yes, I am.” you gave him a sceptical look, looking to the side before raising your eyebrows slightly, you paused biting your lip, “you…work here then?” you asked him.

“Ya.” he looked down slightly.

“And you’re on my dad’s team?” your face softened even more.

“...yes”

You resisted the urge to laugh, pressing your lips together, but a smile got through “and you knew?”

“Ya...I, figured it out.”

You let yourself smile and shake your head, “I expect no less.” you both exhale, looking into each other’s eyes thoughts of resentment flash through your minds while you stare at each other.

You both give in, “I missed you.”

You can’t help the small smile that comes across your face, despite the ending your relationship had, you did miss him, and it felt nice to hear that he felt the same, “I missed you too”

“Alright if no one else is gonna ask, I will, what’s going on here?”

You blushed, how long had your conversation with Spencer lasted hopefully not too long considering most of it was spent in an embrace. How you retreated into yourself when Derek spoke out did not go unnoticed by Spencer, he had always hated when you did that, he liked it when you let loose when you were yourself. But he also knew how you were with a large group, especially a large group of new people. And so he spoke up, “Actually…” he started, getting the eyes off of you but looked at you for permission, and he took the look of relief in your eyes as it, “Y/N and I knew each other in college,” he said it confidently but still slowly and still a little nervously as he was a tad embarrassed himself.

There was a short pause most people just waiting for someone else to say something, but not your father, no, he was putting the pieces together, “Did you say collage?, As in your last year of college?” oop his tone of voice was stern and deep, you rarely heard it as it was reserved for work but you occasionally did, and you never liked it.

You and Spencer both looked away slightly, you cleared your thought, “well that took you 3 seconds to put together.”

He clenched his jaw realising it was Spencer Reid that you dated that year. You had told your dad about Spencer, you two were serious and when you broke up you were only a couple of weeks away from the date you set for them to meet. Your dad was not happy with this boy for causing your break up after it being so serious. Though it wasn’t entirely Spencer’s fault, you didn’t think it was anyone’s fault, but your dad refused to hear it. He glared at Spencer and both of you became very uncomfortable.

“Am I missing something, pretty boy?”

You looked towards Spencer taking the opportunity for a distraction and mouthed ‘pretty boy?’ trying incredibly hard not a laugh, he just shook his head at you. But Derek wasn’t going to give up, encouraging Spencer to continue but you didn’t give him a chance saying, “Spence and I, dated for a while.”

“A while?” he pressed.

“A year.”

“oooo” he breathed out “damn pretty boy”

With the tension in the air rising, between your dad, Derek and the pre-existing tension, though lessened since you arrived but still there, between you and Spencer, you took this as your escape “Well I think it’s time for me to go, dad will you go get my bag for me?” you smile and simultaneous glare at him motivating him to listen as he walks back up the stairs to his office. Everyone dispersed, clearly amused, except for Dave and you turn back to Spencer with a small, suppressed smile. “So…” you both laugh, “do you want to go for coffee sometime? Catch up?”

“I’d love to” you both smile, “have the same number?” you nod, walk to him and kiss his cheek, smile and turn.

“Text me.” as you walk away towards Dave who is smiling at you, “what?”

“Oh nothing.” you roll your eyes knowing he’s full of shit, “you and the kid huh?”

“It was good seeing you Dave.” pulling him into a hug

“It was good seeing you Bella, come over for dinner sometime?”

“Absolutely.” and finally you turn to your father who is now holding your bag. He hands it to you and links your arm in his own, walking you out, “oh go ahead.”

You share a look, “I didn’t know it was Reid that you dated back then.”

You shook your head a laughed, “he really never said anything?”

“No.” he said bitterly.

“Oh come on, I know this doesn’t change the fact that you love your team, and that includes him.” you said pointing at him, he rolled his eyes he hates how you can read him.

He pulled you into a hug, “I liked my surprise none the less.”

You smiled “good, me too.”

“Dinner tonight?”

“Can’t wait” you kissed him on the cheek and the elevator doors closed.

The rest of the day you thought about Spencer, when he would text you, how much you missed him, and how good it felt to be in his arms again until finally, his text came through;

Spencer: Coffee, noon Saturday? Corner of fourth and tenth?

Y/N: Absolutely. I’ll see you then

---

@spencers-renaissance

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sydwritesstufff · 2 years

Text

Cloaked Heart

summary: when emily continuously comes home extremely late from work, jj gets suspicious and looks through emily’s text messages to reveal a horrible truth.

pairing: jennifer jaraeu x emily prentiss

word count: 1,364

warnings: swearing, yelling/argument

With Hotch gone, somebody had to step up and lead the team, and that somebody just happened to be Emily. She was ecstatic about the job; mostly because a picture of her got hung up on the wall. Several of her coworkers often told her that she was a born leader, which only boosted her confidence. At first, all was fine. JJ understood that she would be seeing a little bit less of Emily, but that was a price she was willing to pay for her girlfriend to be happy. Lately though, JJ noticed that her girlfriend was returning home a lot later than usual. She wouldn’t pull in the driveway until two or three in the morning, and every time her appearance would look sloppy. Her raven hair often looked as if she had just woken up, and tonight was no exception.

JJ was awoken by the sound of a car rolling into the driveway. She threw a quick glance at the alarm clock. It read 3:12 AM.

That’s late, she thought.

She rolled out of bed and stumbled over to the window, and out in the driveway, she could make out the silhouette of her girlfriend, sitting in her car. JJ watched as Emily reached into her backseat and grabbed her bright-colored bra, the one JJ was sure Emily was wearing this morning when she left early for work. Emily fumbled around in the dark, attempting to slip her bra under her shirt and put it on. Eventually, Emily succeeded, and she pushed open the car door and stepped out onto the concrete. JJ figured that she had seen enough, and so she crawled back into bed and lied down, making her best attempt to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, Emily entered the room quietly, and set her bags down at the entrance, something she would surely be scolded for the next morning. Realizing that JJ was asleep, or so she thought, she tiptoed over to the bathroom and locked herself inside, leaving her phone on the bed next to JJ. JJ had no intention of rolling over to look at Emily’s phone…until it continuously buzzed for minutes on end. She tried to ignore it, but her gut told her that something was off.

Shut up, Emily was just working.

Buzz.

Why would she do anything behind my back? We’ve been together for three years.

Buzz.

You’re being crazy, JJ. Just go to sleep.

Buzz.

JJ could resist no longer. She had to figure out what was going on. She rolled over and grabbed Emily’s phone. Remembering that her fingerprint was in Emily’s phone, she pressed her thumb to the phone and it instantly unlocked.

If she were cheating on me, she wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave my fingerprint in her phone.

But when JJ pulled up Emily’s messages, she immediately regretted her previous thought. Emily had several messages from a man named Bradley.

The most recent message that Emily sent to him read “Hey, just got off work, coming over rn. Front door unlocked? Can’t wait to see you. 😘”

The message was sent at 10:24 PM. JJ had left work only an hour before. For the past five hours, Emily had been at Bradley’s house, fucking him senseless. JJ’s heart shattered. For three years, she loved Emily, and supported her through whatever she wanted to pursue, and this is how Emily repaid her? By cheating on her with some guy named Bradley? JJ couldn’t help but cry silently as she laid the phone back down on the mattress and shut her eyes. She couldn’t confront Emily, not tonight at least. JJ waited for sleep to overcome her, and all she could think was that tomorrow morning, all hell would break loose.

The next morning came. JJ woke up, hoping the whole ordeal was a bad dream, but much to her dismay, it was not. She looked beside her to see that Emily was gone.

She’s probably at Bradley’s house.

She rolled her eyes as she climbed out of bed and opened the bedroom door, surprised when she was greeted with the familiar smell of chocolate chip pancakes, her favorite. At first she thought it was a romantic gesture, but those thoughts were quickly crushed when she remembered what had really happened last night after work. JJ mentally prepared herself for a long, rage-filled argument as she walked down the stairs, part of her hoping that there was a mystery person cooking breakfast in their home, and the other part of her hoping that it was in fact Emily so that she could confront her about last night’s activities. Unfortunately for one-half of JJ, it was Emily, saucepan in hand, flipping an unusually large chocolate chip pancake. JJ couldn’t say anything at first, but she finally mustered up the courage to speak.

“Hey.”

Emily turned at the sound of her voice, and when met by JJ’s eyes, a smile crept across her face.

“Morning. There’s some pancakes ready if you’re hungry.”

Emily gestured towards the plate sitting on the kitchen counter, stacked full of steaming, buttery pancakes.

“Uh, that’s alright. I’m not that hungry.”

Emily lifted her eyebrows in concern.

“You, Jennifer Jaraeu, are not hungry? That’s a first. Everything alright?”

Emily is a profiler. Of course she would pick up on the strange behavior from her significant other. Emily turned back to the stove and removed the final pancake from the pan before turning off the heat and setting the pan to the side.

“No, not really.”

JJ was slowly starting to fall apart before she even got to the point of the conversation.

“What’s wrong?”

Emily seemed genuinely concerned, but deep down, JJ knew that she wasn’t. Or maybe she was, but she shouldn’t have been. She shouldn’t get to feel concerned after what she did.

“Why are you always working so late?”

Emily leaned on the kitchen counter and grabbed a towel to wipe her hands off.

“Just trying to get paperwork and stuff done. Why?”

She was lying. JJ knew it, but it was so easy to just want to believe her.

“Stop lying to me, Em. I know that paperwork wasn’t the only thing you were doing last night.”

Emily stood up straight.

“Babe, what are you-“

JJ cut her off.

“Who the fuck is Bradley?”

Emily’s face sunk. She shoved her hands into her pockets and grew silent.

“He’s just a friend, JJ, I swear.”

“Really? Because nobody is going to visit their friends at 11 PM after a long day of work. You’re going to tell me that you were at your “friend’s” house for five hours? Who texts their friends that they can’t wait to see them with a kissing emoji?”

Emily’s face grew hot.

“You went through my messages? JJ, what the hell?”

What had once been a quiet conversation was now a pissing match to see who could yell the loudest.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy now? I’m not the person that has been sleeping around with people behind her girlfriend’s back!”

“It’s not like that!”

“Then what is it like?”

Emily frantically ran her fingers through her hair. Emily’s voice quieted, and her tone become more reserved and shy.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“No you don’t! If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

No matter how hard JJ tried to prevent it, tears escaped from her eyes, hitting the kitchen tile. JJ had been betrayed one too many times by exes in the past, and now the one person that she thought would never hurt her, had caused her more pain than any of her exes ever did. JJ noticed that Emily too, was crying, but why? She was the one that caused this. It didn’t have to be this way.

“I need all your stuff out of the house by tomorrow morning. I’ll be staying with Garcia until you’re moved out.”

“JJ, no. Please don’t do this.”

Emily begged JJ to forgive her, to change her mind, but the decision was set in stone. Their relationship was over. Sometimes, you can do everything right, and in the end, you’ll still lose.

#jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jaraeu #Criminal minds #jj x emily #jennifer jaraeu x emily prentiss #jj x Emily prentiss #jemily fanfic

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leftoverenvy · 2 years

Text

Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 14)

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: eventual smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18)

Word Count: 3.1k

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Chapter 14 - Redrawing Boundaries

A/n: Watch out for POV shifting in this chapter!

______________________________

India Mae's POV: I was rushing in the door, my backpack falling off my shoulder, keys slipping out of my grasp. To add insult to injury, my phone started ringing. I kicked the backdoor closed with my foot, slamming it a bit too hard. I winced and thanked god Emily wasn't home to see that.

Before even checking the caller ID, I answered with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Hi! Remember me? Just your best friend who you never see anymore because you moved out to be with your sugar momma. Remember her? Speaking of, you sounded breathless. What are you doing?" I could hear the smirk in her voice. I laughed, letting all my stuff fall out of my arms to the floor.

"Hi Penelope. Yes, I remember you. Don't be dramatic."

"Well I miss you," she huffed. "And I'm kidnapping you for a drink soon."

"I'm sorry, Pen. I've been a horrible friend. I miss you so much, too." I looked at the time. "Kidnap me tonight. Let's go out tonight."

"Yes! Meet there?"

"Sure, what time?" I mentally calculated how long it would take me to drive into the city.

"No wait!" she interrupted herself. "Come here now? And we can get ready together like old times?" I smiled widely. That sounded so fun.

"Yes!" I agreed enthusiastically. "Let me pack up a bag and I'll meet you at your apartment." I paused. Her apartment. When had I started viewing Emily's home as my home?

We quickly said goodbye and I immediately texted Emily.

Indi🥰: Going out for a drink with Penelope tonight. Are you okay to get dinner on your own?

Em💘💗: You know, I did just fine on my own for 38 years…I think I can manage dinner for one night.

Indi🥰: You sure? I wouldn't want to be responsible for you burning your house down…

Em💘💗: Cute, India. Careful or that mouth will get you in trouble.

My stomach flipped. I had the inexplicable urge to find out just how much trouble I could get in. Should I push this? Even though I had asked what we were doing, what our kisses meant, we still hadn't satisfactorily defined what this was. We had both admitted we had feelings for each other, but what did that mean? Were we dating? Were we committed? Exclusive? I decided since I wouldn't be home tonight, I could stand to push our amorphous, shifting boundaries.

Indi🥰: How much?

Em💘💗: India Mae…

Indi🥰: Not the full name! Indi🥰: 😇😇😇

Em💘💗: Your halo is not as shiny as you might think, angel. Have fun tonight. 😘

Indi🥰: Thank you babe! Don't wait up for me 💗

I was mildly disappointed Emily cut us off so short. Maybe I had misread the situation and she didn't want to flirt like that. It was all so confusing. All the more reason to go get drunk with Penelope tonight. I quickly darted upstairs, grabbed a few outfit choices appropriate for the club, my makeup, and some shoes. I flew down the stairs. I hadn't been this excited to go out in a while. Usually, Penelope had to drag me out kicking and screaming, but I missed her, and tonight was just what I needed.

______________________________

The prospect of Penelope coming over was exciting. Getting so busy with school and so lost in Emily had shifted my attention. But I missed her dearly. When I knocked, she burst open the door already squealing. "Indi! I missed you so much. Do NOT go this long without hanging out with me again. I mean it."

"I promise. And I really am sorry." She pulled me in a tight embrace. "Ease up, Pen. You're going to suffocate me."

"Sorry! I'm just so excited for tonight. I made Penny Punch in honor of tonight." She waggled her eyebrows. I groaned internally – Penny Punch usually destroyed me.

Penelope and I bounced around her bathroom, mascara wands and curling irons in our hands. We screamed lyrics to each other, hyping ourselves up for tonight. We may have pregamed a little too well. The Penny Punch lived up to its name tonight, packing a punch like nothing else.

"Quick, Indi! Let me curl this last section of your hair. The uber is going to be here so soon."

"We should have started with hair, Pen. I don't know if I trust you with a hot instrument near my head," I teased.

"Puh-lease!" she objected. "I am fine to do your hair."

"Famous last words…" I muttered.

"I promise. It's almost done anyway," she dismissed. "Just a few more pieces in the back. I'm just touching up your natural curls." Her phone dinged. "Ah! We have to go! Let's skedaddle." She quickly unplugged the curling iron, grabbed her lipstick, and we rushed out of the bathroom and downstairs.

The Uber driver undoubtedly knew we were sloshed. She was such a good sport about turning the music up and letting us be fools in the backseat. As soon as we buckled in, the night of dancing had started. Before I slid out of the backseat, I handed her a $5 bill as a thank you for letting us be so loud and rowdy.

We immediately grabbed a drink at the bar and headed out to the dance floor. It felt just like old times. Though I loved being with Emily, I hadn't realized how much I had missed Penny. We bopped around at first and then started grinding together jokingly when our favorite song came on. I threw my head back and laughed at how ridiculous we were being.

"Well well well!" I heard a male's voice boom over the music. "Miss India Mae." I turned around shocked to hear someone use my full name.

Oh! It was Em's coworker…the bald, black one. "Hi, uh…Sorry I don't remember your name."

"Derek." Right. He still intimidated me. Emily assured me he was a respectable guy, but I still had my guard up. Anyone who called me Sugar Lips merited a bit of caution.

"Hi Derek. Nice to see you again. This is my best friend, Penelope," I said dragging her forward.

"OH! I thought you were stepping out on Prentiss," he half joked. My eyes widened. I hadn't even thought about what dancing like that with Penelope had looked like.

"I would never! We're just having a girls' night."

"Is Prentiss here?" he asked looking around. I chuckled at the thought of Emily being in a club like this. She would absolutely hate it.

"God no! Can you imagine?" He laughed with me.

"No, I cannot." He turned towards Penelope. "And what do we have here? Sexy mama," he said picking up her hand and kissing her on the back of the hand. I almost threw up. Surely this wouldn't work. But then I heard Penelope giggle.

"Penelope Garcia. Nice to meet you." She looked at me and jerked her head towards the bar. I was a good wing woman; I would make myself scarce.

"I'm gonna get a drink!" I nearly sprinted away from them. I had a feeling they were going to be uncomfortably disgusting. I grabbed another drink and found a table in the corner. I pulled out my phone to text Emily and saw I already had several texts from her.

Em💘💗: Hope you're having fun tonight. Please be safe. Em💘💗: Call me if you need a ride anywhere. I don't care how late it is. Do NOT drive. Or take a cab. Em💘💗: Please let me know when you settle for the night so I know you're safe. ❤️

I was just about to hit send on my response when Penelope bounded over to the table. "God! That mocha chocolate thunder is simply a delight. I need a taste of that."

"God! Gross, Pen. Boundaries!" I complained.

"How's this for boundaries? I invited him over tonight, I hope that's cool. I thought maybe you'd stay over, but…" I cringed. There was absolutely NO way I would be staying in my old room tonight. The room that shared a wall with Penelope's.

"Thanks for the heads up. I think I'll take an Uber back to Em's," I said stiffly.

"You're still uptight about sex," she pointed out. "Which means you aren't having it. You've been there a month, and you mean to tell me you aren't having sex?! Why?" she demanded to know.

"It's complicated, Pen. You know that isn't why I'm there." For some reason, I felt the need to keep our recent kisses to myself. They felt so personal, so sacred. I wanted them to just be ours for a little bit longer. "It's just…what we agreed on earlier. Nothing's changed." That last part came out mournfully because it was partly true. I desperately wanted to be her girl, and she was moving so slowly. I idly wondered if I could get her attention and move things along myself.

"Ready to go? I paid your tab," Derek said walking up to the table. Penelope's face split in a huge grin.

"You okay if I go?" she asked turning to me.

"Yes, yes! Get out of here. Have fun," I said with a soft smile.

I walked over to the bar and paid my own tab. I was thankful for Emily and the black credit card I now had courtesy of her. A few months ago, I would have had a panic attack at my $55 bar tab. Instead, I signed the receipt without batting an eye, and I left a generous tip. It took me way longer than it should have to sign though. Things were far more difficult when you were seeing double.

If I thought signing the receipt was difficult, ordering an Uber was nearly impossible. I had to ask the bartender for help. She was so sweet and promptly put the order in. "You sure you want to Uber here? It's so far away. It says it will cost $63."

"I gotta get home. It's no big deal." Who was I? No big deal dropping over $100 in one night? But soon, I was off in the Uber, excited to get home to Emily.

______________________________

Emily's POV: I clicked the TV off. I hadn't been watching it anyway, too lost in my thoughts. Indi hadn't texted me where she was going, just that she was going out with Penelope. Even worse, she hadn't texted me back even though it said she had read the messages. I was trying my hardest not to be an overbearing control freak. I was thankful she had texted me this time at all. And I didn't want to discourage her communicating by getting unnecessarily angry again. Thanks to years of mandated therapy, I could identify that my anger now was actually rooted in worry for her.

I couldn't help but fret about her being out alone. She was tiny. And way too hot for her own good. I stood up from the couch, ready to call it a night. I had tried to stay up even though she had told me not to. I needed to know that she made it home safely.

When my foot hit the first step, I heard a thump against the front door, a muffled giggle, and the scratch of the key trying to be inserted in the lock. The door swung open with a loud bang against the wall. Clumsily bursting through the door, she giggled again. "SHH!" she said to the door, her finger over her lips. She yanked her key out roughly and slammed the door closed.

"My my, Miss Banks. Someone's had a good night." She said she was going out for a drink. And then I got a look at her. My gaze travelled up and down her form multiple times. She was wearing a tight, black tank top, black, high-waisted shorts, and black tights. And to top it off, she had on black, thigh-high leather boots. She looked sexy as hell – like my every wet dream. I could devour her on the spot she looked so good. But she was drunk.

"Great night," she corrected. "But I accidmaly got jrunkk." There was the slurred speech. It was actually quite endearing.

"Yes, I can see that."

She leaned against the door and tugged on her boots. They weren't budging. She tugged harder and her whole body started to follow. I rushed to grab her before she could face plant. "Shoompf ate my foot," she grumbled.

"Let me help you, baby." I unzipped her boots down nearly the entire length of her leg. I tried not to let myself get distracted by the fact that I was kneeling in front of her, close to her delicious thighs. She started to slump again, and I caught her, standing up quickly to support her weight.

I pulled her towards the stairs, her legs not helping me much. "Come on, love. Let's get to bed."

"We can't gotobed." And she was talking a mile a minute, babbling about god knows what. Only about a third of her words were intelligible. I tried my best to decipher Drunk Indi-ese, but as this was my first experience with drunk Indi, I was hopeless. But when we made it to the top of the stairs, I could have sworn I heard her say, "and Uber man spent ride over trynagetmuhnumbaber." Rage consumed me. She was mine.

"You should have called me, Indi! You shouldn't have to Uber home." That also would have prevented me from going crazy worrying about her. But I couldn't stop all the bad scenarios from flooding my mind. Just last year we'd had a case about a ride share driver in college towns using his work as a rouse to kidnap women – drunk out of their minds after a night at the bars – to rape and torture them. Thinking about that happening to Indi was unbearable.

"S'not a big deal, Emm." She was so dismissive, and it only served to flame my anger.

"It is to me," I said sharply. "Something could have happened to you. You were completely alone, and you're incredibly intoxicated. How could you be so irresponsible? You should have called me." Rationally, I understood it was pointless to argue with a drunk person. I wasn't even sure she would remember this in the morning.

"Mm home, aren't I? Nofing happnd." I shuffled her into her room.

"I'd be most displeased if something were to happen to you. I need you in one piece." I kissed her on the forehead.

"I dint wanna bothrr you. You nevsleep 'nough." The fact that she was concerned about that, even completely obliterated, made my heart ache. She was so good, so pure. She was always thinking of me and taking care of me. I was happy to take care of her now. Plus, she really was so stinkin' adorable drunk. I pushed her towards her bed.

"Em!" she protested much too loudly in her silent bedroom. "I can't sleep in this." And then she started tugging on her clothes. Dear god help me. Before I could stop her, her shirt was over her head. Her black, lace bra was doing wonders for her chest. I tried my hardest to be respectful, but dear lord she was sexy. I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to sit on the edge of her bed. Turning my back on a shirtless India, I ran to her closet to find her some pajamas, anything to cover her up before I lost my mind.

I frantically pulled open drawers looking for a t-shirt and her favorite sleep shorts. I heard her shuffling feet and cute giggle behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find that she had divested herself of her shorts, as well. My breath caught in my throat at her standing there in nothing but black lingerie and fishnets. She would kill me by the end of the night; I was certain of it. I grabbed the first shirt my eyes landed on next and shoved it at her. "Baby, please. Here."

It took some more wrangling, and loads more giggles, but I finally got Indi dressed. She reached behind her, eyes not daring to leave mine, a glint in them I couldn't identify. And next thing I knew, she was holding up her bra, waving it around to show me she had taken it off. I groaned. Drunk India had far fewer inhibitions and it made it very difficult to be respectful. She dropped her bra on the floor and threw her arms around my neck, launching herself into me. My arms encircled her waist to stabilize us. And then they tightened because I needed her closer. Her lips attacked mine frantically.

I moaned into her kiss. Even tainted by the sharp taste of alcohol, there was nothing sweeter than her lips. I slowed her down and pulled back. "Let's get you to bed, sweetheart." Her stained, crimson lips fell into a pout. I was reminded of her teasing earlier. Yes her mouth could get her into quite a bit of trouble.

I finally got her into bed. I pulled the covers up over her, tucking her in. I couldn't help myself, and I pressed another kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, angel." Her eyes were half-closed, her body already relaxing. I pulled back slowly, not wanting to wake her back up.

"Stay…" she mumbled.

I tried to ignore it. I desperately wanted to stay, to hold her in my arms all night. I had been dreaming of it for nearly two months now. Everything felt right, complete, when she was in my arms. To have that all night was unimaginable. I backed up slowly, my eyes never leaving her precious, peaceful face. Her hand clung to my shirt loosely, her brow furrowing. "Em, stay," she repeated. Her hand feebly tugged me back towards her.

But it might as well have been a steel grip for the hold she had on me. There wasn't anything I wouldn't give her. I slipped into her bed and settled the covers around us. She snuggled into my side, her head on my chest. I smiled softly, happiness and love cocooning us.

Conflicting thoughts warred in my mind. This was the first night sleeping together. It felt wrong that India wasn't conscious for this decision. But I was much too selfish to leave. Because having her in my arms was incomparable to anything else. She was the most important thing in my life, and I would protect her heart at all costs. I hugged her tighter and pressed my lips softly to her forehead. "Goodnight, baby."

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