#and yes it's jj covered by the sign

[frevandrest]

Frev (and 18c?) fresco at the Bastille metro station. Thanks to @robespapier for suggesting we see it because it's everything:

[multifandom-exe]

Oblivious - A. Hotchner x Reader

Request: Hotch x bau reader where hotch has feelings but reader is completely oblivious? 

Word count: 2k 

A/N: this is a rewrite of a fic from like 5 years ago, if you want to check out the original here to see how much has changed. Feel free to leave requests! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK IN COMMENTS OR ASKS PLS i need to know if I'm still writing like I'm 14 😭.

The line. There was always a line. A line between good and evil. A line between love and hate. A line between professional and personal. That was a line you loved to flirt with, to teeter on, to play with like it was your favorite toy. Of course, you shouldn't be flirting with your boss, but when he was stood there, in that suit that highlights his shoulders and his wrists and his thighs and oh god... 

“(Y/N)?” And the way your name came from his lips was like heaven on earth right there. “(Y/N)?” What? A hand lightly brushed against your shoulder as he moved his head to be in eyeline with you. Slight concern in them as he gave you a small smile, sending electric through your body and thoroughly grounding you to earth. 

“Yes, I'm sorry, I'm just... tired.” You tried to look anywhere but his eyes as you so desperately tried to cover the train of thought that had your skin buzzing and your heart racing. You glanced at his hand on your shoulder as he took it away, wanting to whine at the loss of contact.  

Flirting with your boss was your own self sabotage. But you relished it every time. Every touch he missed. Every glance he didn't see. Every time your heart rate sped up as you saw him leave his office. He didn't notice any of it. And it made you want him all that much more. You should've been glad. Ecstatic even. Because once he realized you liked him, in a way he didn't like you, in a way no subordinate should ever like their boss. That line would be crossed. And no amount of ‘I'm sorry’ or ‘let's forget about it’ could undo it. 

Morgan and JJ stood a length away, taking in the scene in front of them. You, absentmindedly playing with your hair, a sign of flirting. And him, fiddling with his hands as he looked into your eyes whilst you spoke. 

- 

“Do you think they’ll ever notice the other is so head over heels for them?” JJ stated, watching you two with a look that's usually only reserved for Henry when he doesn't understand what he did wrong, or when Emily is openly talking about someone right behind her. A grimace more like. 

“Nope.” He started, popping the ‘p’. “They've been doing this dance for too long; I'm starting to think it's never gonna happen.” He tutted and tried to take his eyes off... whatever was happening over there. 

- 

“You look nice today, by the way. You do every day, but you know.” His attempt at flattery didn't go amiss as you smiled bashfully. 

“Thank you, so do you. I enjoy this side of you much more, the happier side. Is this some new technique to raise team morale?” You quirked an eyebrow as you smiled at him, desperately trying to quell the faint blush on your cheeks. 

His smile faltered slightly. Right. The team. It's been years since he flirted with anyone and clearly, he must be doing something wrong if you're thinking of him and the team. Every day he saw you. And every day he just wanted to throw caution to the wind and hold your hand, touch your face, stroke your hair. Feel you. Gently. Fully. Months. Months of slight flirts and fleeting touches and he feels no closer to being with you now than when you first joined the team. How one of his best profilers could miss something that was right there, he would never know. He was sure he was getting to the point where he looked pathetic. Rossi had even mentioned it to him, a late night in his office over a bottle of scotch. ‘I'm starting to question your profiling skills Aaron, if you two could see what everyone else sees, you'd know there's no question about what happens next with you two’. But here he was, trying his best to put his heart on his sleeve, and even that wasn't working. Or maybe it was, and you knew, and you were simply saving him the embarrassment of rejection. 

A cough broke him away from his thoughts. He looked at you as you nodded your head towards your nosy team members, who stood absentmindedly watching the two of you. He copied your cough and looked pointedly at his team. 

“Back to work.” He said firmly, turning to touch your arm and give you a small smile before returning to his office. Your cheeks heated as you stared at the spot on your arm, slowly walking back to your desk. You sat in your chair, thoughts going a mile a minute and you sighed, pulling your files closer. 

“Oh, Hotch your just so dreamy!” Morgan lays his hand dramatically on his forehead, attempting to mock you. 

“Oh (Y/N), you look absolutely ravishing today.” Emily came over to join in the teasing, doing her best Hotch impression. 

“What are you two idiots yapping about?” You looked up at the scene, laughing inwardly at their antics. 

“Cmon, Hotch is so into you!” Came from JJ as she giggled softly. “And I'm willing to bet the feeling is reciprocated.” She tugged at your cheek, pointing out the obvious blush dusting them. 

“Okay, we’re all bullying me, stay mad.” You tried to joke but they all gave you pointed glares like you were the stupidest person in the world. “He is not into me! He just wants someone in this office to actually do their work.” You giggled before pulling all your files together. You pushed your chair back and stood up to deliver your files for the day. 

“Keep telling yourself that, Sugar!” Derek shouted as you walked away, receiving an unceremonious middle finger in response. 

You jogged up the stairs to Hotch's office, raising your hand to knock on the door, finding it already open. Your heart hummed against your chest at the thought of him hearing the ‘workplace gossip’. Well, can it really be gossip if it's true? 

“I have the files you wanted.” You held them close to your chest as you absentmindedly played with the small pieces of paper sticking out. The tension in the office was palpable. The same tension that hung over you when you looked a little too long, or smiled a little too brightly.  

His head snapped up at your voice and he broke out into one of those very rare Aaron Hotchner smiles TM. “You can just put them there.” He pointed to his desk, trying to shield his face that sported the same bright pink as you. As you approached, he begged to every god on earth you couldn't hear his heartbeat threatening to break out of his ribs. There was a beat of silence as you put the files down. You knew you shouldn't linger, but you couldn't help it. Youd do everything in your power to look at him a second longer each time he leaves. He looks up at you. He really looks at you. Eyes so bright whilst still working a job like this. Plump lips being gently bitten between your teeth. That conversation, outside. A conversation he never should've heard. This was his in. 

“They are right you know.” Your head lifted gently, taking you away from whatever thoughts lingered. Your eyebrows knitted together as a nervous smile and quizzical look painted your face. He stood and moved around his desk toward you. “i am ‘so into you’.” He tried his best to keep his earth shattering confession as light hearted as he could, rolling his eyes a little at the end of his sentence. He sucked in a breath as your face didnt move an inch from the shocked look plastered on it. God. This was the worst idea ever. He could already feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the everything, trying to claw its way out of his throat. His usual stoic look must have faltered, as he felt you lay your hand on his arm, breaking through his layer of despair. 

“Hotch.” Your eyes softened as you looked at him, and your eyes closed lightly, a blush spreading on your cheeks. It felt like this wave of emotion had hit you and you just wanted to cry. The line. It had been crossed, and it was so utterly terrifying, and felt so fucking amazing. 

He had obviously mistaken your soft tone as one of pity, of rejection. He stuttered slightly and turned his back to you, flushing deeply. He babbled, about how ‘sorry’ he was, and how we should ‘just forget he said anything’. God, he had taken risks in his life, but this was possibly the most, stupid, miscalculated, inconcieve- 

“Hotch!” Your raised voice broke him out of his spiral as he turned to face you once more. You moved toward him and lightly pushed a stray hair from his forehead. He so desperately wanted to lean into your touch. “Whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours, at least let me finish what i was saying.” He shook his head lightly, like he was trying to shake his thoughts away, as he gazed into your eyes for the first time since his confession. “I'm totally into you too.” You mirrored his earlier words with a slight giggle. And just like that, a wave of emotion erupted in him. He breathed deeply, not realizing he was depriving himself of air waiting for your answer.  

He moved to softly run his thumb over your cheek as he gazed at you lovingly. “I've been wanting to tell you for so long. I tried flirting but I figured I just wasn't very good because you hadn't realized.” 

“Stop. I've been doing the same thing!” You gently dropped your head to his chest, laughing incredulously at the stupidity, that two very intelligent profilers had missed all of this. So oblivious. Both wrapped in their own little world of desperate pining.  

“How about i take you on a date? I could definitely use some time away from this office.” He lifted your chin gently, so you were looking into his eyes. 

“I couldnt think of anything better” You gazed at him, happiness threatening to burst your heart into two. 

Bonus 

Through the large office window, the 5 profilers stood, huddled around your desk, staring intently, like it was the finale of their favorite rom-com. They all sighed a huge breath as they saw you lay your head on Aaron's chest, all turning to eachother with the most shit-eating-grins. 

“I think, Reid and Morgan owe me 20 bucks.” Rossi smirked as JJ and Emily burst into laughter. Morgan hit himself on the cheek playfully with a little ‘ouch’ before rooting through his pocket for a 20. Reid had tried to argue ‘as Hotch's best friend, of course you'd understand him the best’ But it was to no avail, as Rossi just stuck his hand out and gave him an unconvinced look. He sighed and rooted through his pockets.  

After much laughter and gossip, they all turned back to see you placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and hurrying out of his office. They caught him lifting a hand to where you had kissed. Upon realizing his blinds were open, he promptly shut them, trying his best to plaster his intimidating look back on his face. You stopped at the top of the stairs as you realized all eyes were on you. You coughed and tried to indignantly hide the blush that coated your cheeks.  

“Back to work.” 

-

let me know what you think! and pls request this was so cute.

Taglist

@back-totheoldhouse

[pedroscowgirl]

In safe hands

Aaron hotchner x (fem)reader

(could be read as gn reader but aaron calls reader princess if you're fine with that)

Masterlist

warnings: fluff /slight angst but also a lil suggestive! so minors dni, mentiones of surgery, reader is high on anesthesia, secret relationship, lmk if i forgot something

Summary: After undergoing surgery, you wake up to find Hotch by your side—and under the influence of anesthesia, you accidentally let some unfiltered, unholy thoughts slip

wc: 1.7k it's a small one srry

A/n: i was actually planning on writing some crazy naughty stuff but i couldn't bring myself to ruin the sweet moment so. Edit: this was an ask from a friend :))

The world was a haze of muted colors and soft lights as your eyes fluttered open. Everything felt… heavy, yet oddly light at the same time. The last thing you remembered was the searing pain, the sound of shouts around you, and the warmth of Aaron’s hand gripping yours as you were rushed into surgery. Your head was spinning, and the sterile smell of the hospital filled your senses, reminding you that you were safe now. But that comforting thought wasn’t fully real until your eyes found him.

Aaron was there, sitting at the edge of your bed, his normally composed face lined with worry. His dark eyes softened the moment he saw you stir, as though some enormous weight had just lifted off his shoulders. His hand moved, almost instinctively, reaching out just enough to brush against your blanket-covered arm. You knew he was keeping it subtle, keeping his usual public reserve, even though you longed for his touch to be closer. You didn’t mind. Just knowing he was there was enough.

“Aaron…” you murmured, his name slipping out in a breathy whisper, almost a plea. A sleepy, lopsided smile tugged at your lips as you raised your hand weakly, the gesture an open invitation. And he understood instantly. He moved forward, his hand enveloping yours with a tenderness that, even in your groggy state, sent warmth spreading through you.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning close enough that his familiar scent, clean and comforting, washed over you. “Are you okay?” There was a hitch in his voice, and his gaze searched your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You felt a giggle bubble up, uncharacteristic but unstoppable under the heavy influence of the anesthesia. “Yes,” you said, your voice slurred but light with relief. “But gosh, I really am so horny for you right now.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest, before you even registered what you were saying. It was as if, in this dreamy, half-awake state, you couldn’t help but speak exactly what was on your mind.

And for a beat, the world felt perfect.

Then, as your senses sharpened, you became acutely aware of the quiet—unnaturally quiet. You blinked, focusing past Aaron, and that’s when you saw them. The entire BAU team stood around your bed, a collective look of utter shock written across their faces.

JJ’s mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide and sparkling with a mix of surprise and excitement. Beside her, Morgan was struggling—and failing—to hide a grin, while Garcia looked as though she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest secret of the decade. Reid was there, too, his head tilted in deep thought, clearly recalculating every recent interaction between you and Aaron. Emily was one of the first to piece things together, thanks to her observant nature and razor-sharp intuition, and her expression quickly shifted from mild surprise to amusement.

Embarrassment surged through you, but Aaron didn’t let go of your hand. His grip was steady, grounding, and as you looked up at him, his expression remained calm, even gently amused. You caught the faintest hint of a smile as he glanced down at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that rare, quiet way that he reserved just for you.

Morgan was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and crossing his arms with a sly grin. “So… looks like there’s a little something we missed here?”

Your cheeks flushed, but Aaron gave your hand an encouraging squeeze, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. He wasn’t going to leave you to face this alone. You took a deep breath, glancing at each member of your team, your family, before you spoke.

“Guess… the secret’s out,” you said, your voice still a bit wobbly from the anesthesia but carrying a hint of humor.

“Oh my God,” Garcia burst out, clapping her hands together with a gleeful little jump. “This is the best plot twist of all time! I knew something was going on! Didn’t I say something was going on?”

JJ let out a little laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “You two… Really?”

Aaron, ever composed, only smiled, his face calm as he finally addressed the team. “Yes,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying just a hint of pride. “We’ve… kept it quiet for a while.”

“Quiet?!” Garcia’s eyes were practically shining. “This is FBI-level stealth, boss man!”

Emily cleared her throat, causing everyone to pause and look her way. "Well, well, well," she said, her voice teasing but not unkind. "Hotch, I never would have pegged you for a rule-bender. But hey, I’m impressed.”

Reid, still analyzing the situation, gave a little nod, murmuring as he looked back and forth between you both, “I suppose that does explain the slight change in body language I’ve observed between you two over the last few months…”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a subtle, almost playful challenge directed at Reid. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Reid’s cheeks turned pink, and he adjusted his glasses. “Well, um… no,” he replied, with a sheepish little smile.

Morgan crossed his arms and chuckled, nudging JJ with his elbow. “Man, Hotch, I never thought I’d see the day! But you know what? I’m happy for you both. Really.” His grin was genuine, the teasing look in his eyes replaced by one of warmth and respect.

With the laughter and light-hearted jabs filling the room, the awkwardness melted away. The anesthesia-induced embarrassment faded, replaced by a sense of belonging, of trust. This team—your family—was nothing but supportive, and you felt a profound sense of relief and gratitude that they knew now.

Finally, you turned back to Aaron, who had never let go of your hand through it all. His gaze was soft, a glint of humor still in his eyes as he leaned down just slightly, murmuring so only you could hear, “Guess we’ll have to get used to a little less privacy.”

You smiled up at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I think I can live with that.”

“Alright,” he said, his voice as steady as ever, though a hint of relief softened his tone. “I think it’s time for everyone to let the patient get some rest.”

The team murmured their goodbyes, each leaving their own quirky remarks. JJ gave you a warm smile, mouthing “we’ll talk later,” while Garcia blew you a playful kiss, winking at you and Aaron as she left.

But Morgan lingered a little longer, crossing his arms and giving Aaron a mischievous grin. “Take it easy in here, Hotch,” he said with a laugh, then pointed a finger at him. “And behave, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the anesthesia still making your giggles sound a bit loopy. Morgan winked at you before finally heading out, and with that, the room fell silent, leaving just you and Aaron.

The laughter faded, and the quiet settled around you both. Aaron still held your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your palm. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his gaze softened, his brow still creased with the worry he hadn’t quite shaken. He let out a long, shaky breath, his thumb pausing as he looked down at you.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly, his voice a low murmur. “When I saw you go down…” His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if replaying that moment was too painful. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his voice. You’d never seen him like this—Hotch, the stoic, unshakeable leader, allowing himself to show this depth of emotion. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, your fingers weak but wanting to comfort him in any way you could.

“I’m right here, Aaron,” you said, your voice a little hoarse but filled with as much warmth as you could muster. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked back at you, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a small, relieved smile. Leaning down, he brushed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if grounding himself in the fact that you were safe and alive.

Then, unable to resist, he moved lower, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was tender, slow, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. When he finally pulled back, his hand still cradling yours, he looked at you with an expression so full of love and relief that it made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled up at him, feeling a little cheeky despite everything. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but playful. “Now you need to fix it.”

Aaron’s brows rose slightly, and a hint of a smirk crossed his face as he realized exactly what you meant. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “When you’re better, I’ll treat you like the best pillow princess that you are.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you reached up to lightly tap his arm, both touched and amused. “You’d better keep that promise, Hotchner.”

He chuckled, his own tension easing a little as he looked at you, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I don’t make promises lightly. You know that.”

And in that moment, as you lay there under his warm gaze, you felt the absolute certainty that you were cherished, protected, and loved in a way you never imagined.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch @gamingfeline @rousethemouse

[msschemmenti]

girls night

jj x reader x emily

prompt: y/n is garcia’s neighbor and the girls come back from a rather rowdy night of salsa lessons and drinks and forget which apartment is garcia’s.

a/n: another crack drabble from my notes app but i couldn’t decide between jj and emily

“pen where are your keys?” emily spoke around a hiccup. they’d all had waaay too much to drink tonight and it was hitting the older woman as she swayed in the lobby of penelope’s apartment building. salsa dancing always brought out the women’s inner alcoholic and it was a miracle they’d even made it to the apartment building in general.

penelope, ever the excitable drunk, circled the lobby in a conga line of one but stopped next emily with a grin. “in here!” she grinned wiggling her cupcake shaped purse in front of emily’s drooped eyes.

the woman nodded and dug around in the cupcake until she felt the metal of the keys and pulled them free from the bag. “alright ladies, i think we’re ready to tackle the stairs now.”

“the stairs?” jj whined pushing herself up from the wall and toward emily.

“yes the stairs. the elevator is broken,” emily gestured to the metal doors with the paper sign on them. both jj and garcia boo’d loudly and mimed throwing tomatoes at the door. “plus i think we need the physical activity to sober up a bit. move out, soldiers.”

jj rolled her eyes and threw a dorky salute emily’s way before practically pulling herself up the stairs by the railings. garcia following closely behind and emily playing caboose on the train of drunk women. they make it all the way to her floor and pause in the hallway.

“pen did you decorate the entire hall?” jj asked in confusion. the normally empty hall looked like garcia’s home exploded all over every door.

“yeah! we had a neighbor decorating party. so now every door looks like mine.” garcia twirled unsteadily and poked one of the wreath covered doors.

“well which one is yours? it’s usually pretty easy to tell when i’m sober but i’m struggling a bit here.” emily asked as they walked the hall looking at each door.

mid spin garcia stops in front of a door with a potted planter and rainbow doormat and grins, “this one!”

jj furrowed her brows, “i thought you lived on this side facing the street…”

“the street is this way, jayje.” penelope singsonged as she extended her finger to boop her nose. “just get the key on my pink key ring. that’s where i keep my apartment key, so when im like this i can remember.”

emily looked jj wearily and shrugged before fishing out one of the two keys on the pink key ring. “as long as one of us is confident in this decision…” she mumbled before trying the key. when it didn’t turn she gazed up at the blondes in confusion. “um it’s not working.”

“oh oh wait, try to jiggle it. sometimes it gets stuck.”

emily wiggled the key all kinds of ways— unknowingly making quite a bit of noise in the hall. she turned to question garcia to complain when the lock turned in her hand and the door pulled open from the inside. all three women froze in shock and slowly allowed their eyes to pan up over the woman holding the door in her hand.

“hi,” she spoke with a laugh as she took in the hazy drunken cloud that was clearly covering the three agents on her doormat.

“garcia, who’s the hottie in pink?” jj whispered out of the side of her mouth, eyes never leaving her woman.

“jen,” emily groaned swatting the blonde’s hip as she watched the blush cover the woman’s cheeks.

“oh my god, y/n! what are you doing in my apartment?” garcia grinned, ignoring her bickering coworkers to pull her neighbor into a hug. y/n pushed her glasses up her nose and patted garcia’s back affectionately.

“penelope, you live across the hall babe.” y/n chuckled sweetly as she held the technical analyst by her shoulders to look her over. “and it looks like you’ve had quite a bit to drink, huh?”

penelope grinned, “uh huh. are you sure i don’t live here? it’s so pretty.”

“yeah hun, i’m sure. here why don’t i help y’all get inside and settled for the night?” y/n asked slipping her feet into a pair of slippers by the door and grabbed her keys. she turned to face the two other women leaning on either side of her doorframe. “and maybe i can introduce myself to your friends.” she spoke with a wink before corralling all the agents across the hall and over to penelope’s door. which looked pretty similar to her own.

emily shoved the keys toward y/n clumsily, “you probably need those.”

y/n accepted the key with a laugh and unlocked the door. “thanks hun,” she pushed the door open and held it open for all three women to file in. “welcome to you actual home penelope.” all three agents fell onto the closest flat surface and released various groans and sighs of relief at not being stood upright. “god you guys really got your fill on whatever alcoholic drink you could. i’m gonna go find you guys some water and advil. don’t move— unless you think you’re gonna puke.”

as soon as the woman turned her back to head into the kitchen, jj and emily both sat up to face garcia. “when’d you get a hot neighbor?” jj asked accusatorially.

“yeah! last i heard there was some old mean lady across the hall. you’ve been holding out on us.” emily chided, poking garcia’s shoulder pointedly.

“down you animals, she moved in a couple months ago. we’ve been a bit busy with you know the dark evil cruelest corners of the US. sorry i didn’t find the time to throw in my new neighbor is hot and single and very into women.” garcia rattled off with a shrug.

“well yes, we’ve been busy but sometimes hot neighbors trump serial killers.” jj replied matter of factly causing emily to tilt her head in thought.

“shut up jj.” she deadpanned with a shake of the head.

“hey!” the blonde called with a pout.

before anyone could actually continue the conversation y/n rounded the island with three glasses of water and a palm full of pain killers. “it seems in your inebriated states, you’ve all forgotten how open floor plans work.”

“oh my god, i think she heard us.” garcia whispered [not actually] to the now blushing women next to her.

“what did y’all drink?” y/n asked watching as each woman downed their water and pills.

“something called the green fairy. very good and very effective.” garcia replied.

“that’s for sure.” y/n nodded in understanding before turning her gaze to the other two women. “as flattered as i am ladies, you can come introduce yourselves when you’ve sobered a bit. that’s if any of you remember this tomorrow.”

“i don’t think either of can forget a face like yours.” emily flirted with a smirk, almost seeming completely sober. until a hiccup distracted her.

“we’ll see about that.” y/n laughed before heading to the door. “i trust all of you can at least get yourselves ready bed. i’ll lock you in for the night.”

“thanks y/n!” garcia sang they watched her disappear through the doorway.

“no prob, pen. come get your keys tomorrow! good night ladies.” the three women heard the door lock from the outside and the echo of the other woman’s door closing in the hallway.

“someone remind me to flirt with her tomorrow.” jj spoke, eyes half open but finger pointed to where y/n had been standing last.

“i’ll set a reminder in my phone.” garcia said pulling the phone from her pocket.

[gghostwriter]

Hi. I am the anon that asked for the Spencer x Reader, where he hallucinate that reader as his wife, and I love it so much. Thank you 😊 ❤️

Also, if it is not too much to ask... what if it was on the contrary. Fem!Reader gets hurt and belives Spencer is her husband, but they are friends. So cute, you know? (Happy ending again, pretty, please 🙏🏻 🥺)

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Friends to Lovers; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: Anon, i’m glad you loved it enough to request another!! It’s a bit shorter than your first request, really tried to not have the same plot line as the other but I hope you enjoy! Main masterlist

Phantasmagoria. // Spencer Reid

The team was split into two after the takedown of the unsub—Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were back at the station, wrapping up the case while Spencer, Emily, and Derek were stationed outside of the hospital room, waiting for permission to be let in. You and Spencer were partnered up, as always, going around town and asking the locals for any additional information regarding the last sighting of the unsub at a gas station. Completely unaware that the unsub, riding a motorcycle, was steps away from the duo. He opened fire, causing the agents to take cover but not before you were hit by near shoulder. As you were rushed to the hospital, the remaining members quickly convened, located, and captured the serial killer. 

The nurse in charge stepped out of the room to face a set of three federal agents, eagerly asking for an update. 

“Surgery went fine. The doctor was able to remove the bullet fragment, intact,” she droned on. “We need one of you agents to collect and sign a form for the release of the bullet as evidence—”

“I’ll do it,” Emily volunteered. 

“Great. The patient is awake but she’s still a little loopy from the local anesthesia. We suggest not crowding her so we will only allow one visitor at a time—” she clapped her hands together. “Now which one of you two fine gentlemen—” she gestured at Spencer and Derek. “—is Dr. Spencer Reid, her husband?” 

Emily and Derek both swiveled to Spencer, eyes dancing with glee as they tucked that information for teasing ammo in the future. 

“I—I am,” he stuttered out. Unsure if he should correct the nurse but if it gave him special privileges to see you first, he’d let it pass. After all, he was there when you got shot. He wants to see you alive and well. 

The nurse smiled at him and nodded her head. “Your wife’s been looking for you.”

Face going crimson red, he thanked her and entered the room, avoiding all eye contact from the remaining two agents outside. 

Your relaxed smile was the first thing he registered—that and how tiny you looked tucked in your bed.

“Spence! Love—where were you?” 

He approached your bedside, noting your glassy eyes ad slurred speech, effects of the anesthesia. 

“I-Y/N, you’re body is still processing out the anesthesia. You’re exhibiting disinhibition—a temporary loss of inhibitions caused by outside stimuli and I-I’m not your husband.” Not that he didn’t want to, he added to himself.

You giggled. “You silly nerdy agent, of course you are. We got married recently and my beautiful—” you gasped as you inspected your hands. “—my ring. Where’s my ring?” 

The monitor picked up your distress. Your eyes going watery and a pout was beginning to form, breaking Spencer’s heart. you looked at him like he had all the answers in the universe and that caused him to fumble out an answer, anything to stop those pretty eyes from crying.

“I’ll ask the nurse okay, no need to worry,” he stroked soothing circles at the back of your hand.

You smiled at him adoringly. “I—can’t believe you said yes.”

He furrowed his brows. “Say yes to what?”

“To our first date.”

He smiled, wanting to see how your imagination got you and him together. “And—and what was our first date?”

“Uh—phanta—during Halloween,” the medicine was starting to pull you under. “I got us tickets and Penelope—” your voice trailing off as you fell back to sleep.

Halloween was this weekend, his neurons actively fired up at that information. Could it be—is it? He grabbed his phone out of the pocket and dialed BAU’s very own tech analyst.

“Go, from Penelope Garcia,” she greeted out.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Uh-hey Garcia. I-I need to ask you something.”

“Ah yes boy genius, tell me your wish and I shall grant it—wait, how’s my baby girl over there?”

“A-actually that’s why I’m calling,” his voice going up an octave. He wanted to ask as normal as possible but the words normal and Dr. Spencer Reid are never linked. “Did she by any chance—have Phantasmagoria tickets this weekend?”

Silence. That was a first from Penelope Garcia.

“Why’d you ask?” she tried to nonchalantly ask.

Spencer bit his lip, unsure on how to explain this whole situation. “I-well-I actually got two tickets and was planning on—” he paused. “—asking her out?”

He quickly moved the phone away from his ear to save his hearing from the high pitched squeals coming from the analyst. 

“Ohemgee, yes!! Finally, my couple!! Please ask her out, please!!”

He awkwardly laughed. “She’ll say yes?”

“I can’t spill any details ‘cause of girl code but yes!! Yes she will!” Penelope gushed out.

“Thanks, Garcia. I’ll—i’ll ask her out,” he hurriedly ended the call as a knock on the door echoed inside the room. It was Morgan and Emily.

With an eyebrow raised, Morgan appraised the giddy smile on Spencer’s face. “What’s got you so happy, pretty boy or should I say Mr. husband?”

Emily laughed. “Yeah, Reid. How is Mrs. Reid?”

He dropped his face to his hands but not before squeaking out a ‘shut up’ to both agents. If the jokes was a by-product of getting to ask you for a date, he’d take it. He just hoped he’d get to ask you first before the duo corners you with their teasing.

My inbox is currently open for any more fluff requests! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[spencestiel-michelle]

APRIL FOOLS DAY INSIDE THE BAU

• armageddon (6/6)

Hotch: what the hell is goi-

Reid: ITS WAR GET DOWN! *tackles hotch to take cover behind overturned desk* 

JJ, solemnly: eight hours was too much for them. they’re the last ones left. 

Hotch: 

*in the distance, a full fledge war between emily and derek has broken out* 

Emily: your pranks are just like your hairline- disappointing! *throws water balloon full of glue*

Morgan: death faker! *shoots nerf gun darts* 

Rossi: we never should have let them have this much power. 

*Hotch gets up and walks away*

Reid: hotch! where are you going?! it’s too dangerous-

Penelope: poor bossman. 

Penelope, doing cross signs: he will be missed.

*Hotch walks up to Derek and snags nerf gun and egg belt*

*Hotch walks up to Emily and snags bag of glue balloons and plastic sporks* 

Emily: 

Derek: 

Hotch: you realize, i have to write in another event to the bau’s banishment list.

Emily & Derek: … april fools?

Hotch:

Hotch, walking away with confiscated weapons: *sighs* this… this is my life. 

Rossi: yes. you guys are, indeed, fools.

previous part

masterlist

morning after

[luveline]

Hii I adore your writing and am in desperate need of more single dad Spencer <333

many thanks, Anon in love :)

tysm!!

Spencer named his daughter Amanda because it means worthy of love. He told Emily he wanted there to be no confusion, that Amanda was loved from the very second she was born. You've been hopeless since you found out. 

"Amy, please stop," Spencer says, looking down between the picnic table and the white and red tablecloths, where Amanda sits in the grass beneath tying his shoelaces together. 

"Don't know what you're saying," Amy mumbles, frustrated as her fingers get caught in another knot. 

Spencer gives you a look you're all too thrilled to receive, like Amanda's cuteness has something to do with you. "Can you make her stop?" he asks. 

"I don't want to," you say, not whining but maybe close, "she's so sweet, who am I to stop her?" 

"You know, I'll fall if I stand up. She wants to see me in pain. Amy, you're exhibiting signs of a budding psychopath." He smiles at her lovingly. "I'm gonna fall when I stand up!" 

"You won't!" 

"I will! I will, and then Y/N's gonna be embarrassed to be seen with me, and you're gonna have a dad covered in bruises." Spencer pouts at her. You love how he winds her up, how he talks to her like she's a little grown up and the charming way she responds, big words in little tones. 

"You're beautiful no matter what, dad," Amy says. 

It's too practised to be natural. Spencer must say it to Amy often for her to know it off by heart. You swoon like a cheap tent in a hurricane, casting your gaze around Rossi's huge garden for saving. Everyone has purposefully left you to suffer here in paradise, uncaring when Spencer torments you with all his loveliness.

His daughter is worse, climbing up onto the bench between you and Spencer before widening her eyes at you. She looks sort of like Spencer but perhaps more like her mother. Whoever that is must be pretty, and good at giving puppy dog eyes. 

"Do you want something?" you ask her, attempting to sound like JJ does when she talks to her. You're wobbly but getting there, evidenced by the honey-thick smile you've earned. 

"Can I sit on your lap?" she asks. 

You open your arms obediently. She's slight like her dad and doesn't feel like she weighs much as she sits on your thighs, her face smushed into your cardigan. 

"Is everything okay?" you ask, bringing your hand up behind her back automatically. You're not sure if you should be hugging her but Spencer doesn't protest. 

"Can I asked you something?" 

"Sure, you can ask me." You turn your head to expose your ear. 

Amy grins and leans up, whispering, "Can we go get– can we get jelly, please? Pink jelly." 

"Does Uncle Rossi have jelly?" Spencer asks. 

"Yeah, daddy, I saw it in the kitchen." 

"I can't come, I'll fall. Will you take her, please?" Spencer asks with a frown. "It's a lot of knots." 

"Yeah, I can take her. I don't mind. Come on, honey, let's go look."

Amy jumps down off of your lap but waits for you, holding out her hand. You take it and she leads you past your coworkers crowding a hot grill to Rossi's patio doors. It's cooler inside, and you've no need for your sunglasses. You put them on the table next to covered bowls of pasta and salad, poking at lids and tin foil curiously. "Which one did you see the jelly in?" 

"I don't think there's jelly. I want to ask you a secret question." 

You look down at Any with wide eyes. "What question is that, honey?" 

"Are you and my dad in love?"

You laugh sudden enough to make you cough, looking down at Spencer's little girl totally speechless. Smarts are genetic for sure. She asks huge questions. 

"Why do you think that?" you ask, trying for gentle and sounding strangled.

"Because you're really nice to dad and he told me that you're pretty and funny and you'd definitely play Cracker Cards with me." 

"He said that?" 

"Yes!" she says, looking up at you with a smile. "Are you going to get married?" 

You rub your face. Ten minutes later and you're carrying Amy on your hip as she carries a big bowl of pasta, a metal fork in her hands. Spencer has opted to take his shoes off completely and untie the knots, but he seems to have made little progress. "That's not jelly," he says. 

"We couldn't find it." 

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks, abandoning his shoes to put his hand behind your arm and shoulder. 

"I'm okay. Are you okay, Amy?" you ask. 

Amy stabs a piece of pasta with her fork with a big smile on her little face. "I think I said the wrong thing, dad." 

"What did you say?" he asks, looking between you both in concern. "I'm sorry, we're working on context clues." 

"It's okay. It wasn't wrong, it's just, I wasn't expecting it," you say. 

"Well, what did she say?" 

You shrug, "It wasn't really–" 

"I asked her if she'd want marry you, dad, and about the photo of you at the christmas party. It was nice!" Amy insists. 

Spencer flushes with a bright red blush instantaneously. It's shocking how fast his cheeks blossom considering the sun's been out for hours now. He laughs nervously. "I see." 

"Amy!" Hotch calls. "Sweetheart, do you want a hotdog?" 

Amy pushes the bowl of cold pasta you'd made her onto Spencer's lap. "Yes, please," she says, hopping off of the bench. 

You and Spencer meet eyes and swiftly look away. There's something between you both, longing and long looks, too much affection, excuses to be near one another. You really do like him, and maybe he likes you, but you aren't ready to deal with it now. 

"Do you want to go get a hotdog too?" Spencer asks. 

"Yep." You jump up. "Good idea." 

Maybe you can confess your feelings at the next family barbecue. (Probably not.) 

[spencersbabymama]

Numbers l Chapter two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Disabled OC

Content Warning: Talk about disability limitations, Brief mention of unsub being a serial r*pest, Reid staring (because hello his eyes could stare into your soul)

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Brooke's first day day and she's already realizing none of this will be a cake walk.

Taglist: @just-call-me-by-yn @mggslover @spencerreidsrightsock @reidingandallthat

A/n: Shout out again to @just-call-me-by-yn for another awesome banner! And thank you all for the love on the first chapter!

Story:

Four simple words, that’s all it took for my new coworkers to change their demeanor.  The group became more rigid, serious.  Penelope disappears while Hotch hands out a copy of the same folder to everyone including me.  The folders were thick, which was probably a bad sign.  

I pulled my chair up to one of the tables just in time for Penelope to come back with a laptop and pull up a seat next to me.  “Normally we meet in a private room at a round table but we don’t have a way to get you in there…” Penelope whispers in almost a flat tone, before letting her sentence linger in the air for a moment, then proceeds to boot up her laptop.  

I wasn’t sure if that was a dig at me, like she was annoyed I was disrupting the way everyone operated.  The last thing I wanted was to derail everyone from doing their job.  I wanted to help, not hinder.

Apparently Penelope could tell what I was thinking because she let out a small horrified gasp, realizing what she just said, then quickly touched my arm in a reassuring manner “Oh my gosh, I meant to say yet, we don’t have a way to get you in there yet.”

My shoulders relaxed and I nodded in return with a small smile.  Good, I could still consider the girl a friend, an ally.

Hotch cleared his throat, pulling all the attention back to himself “Right here in Washington there’s been a series of abductions.  All young women ranging from 19 to 30 years of age.  The rate of these abductions seem to be escalating which is why local law enforcement has asked for our help.”

I knew what I was signing up for but something about hearing this stuff out loud did something to a person’s stomach.  The most human reaction was well why are we just sitting here?  These women need help and we’re just talking, but I knew there was a process and these people were the best for a reason.

“It looks like there haven't been any victims found yet so that could mean the women are still alive.” JJ said while flipping through the pages.

Everyone nodded before Derek, the one who looked like he was carved straight out of onyx stone, added “That could also mean the unsub has other plans with our victims, how were these women taken?”

Hotch folds his hands on the table “That’s the only thing we know that’s common between each victim.” He sighs “They all used a chat room for singles and were kidnapped exactly three days after logging on.”

I tried taking in all the information.  Hearing the mention of a chat room made my mind start to run with different ways to catch this guy.  There were plenty of ways they could track him.  Of course if he was remotely smart he probably covered his tracks at least on the surface.

“Since this unsub runs mostly online we’re gonna need you and Bevan’s expertise on this.” Hotch explains, addressing the both of us.  Penelope responded with an affirmative yes sir while I gave a small nod.  A weight seemed to build on my shoulders.  This was heck of a first case.

It was hard not to feel imposter syndrome when you’re surrounded by such talents in their field.  This group weren’t just agents.  They made it their job getting inside the mind of these insane criminals and it seemed to have results.  I don’t know if I could ever be their level, but I was ready to help.

Everyone’s eyes were on us but the only one that seemed to make me squirm in my wheelchair a little.  Chess Guy, also known as Spencer Reid.  Chess Guy just seemed so much more fun in my head.  I didn’t let myself notice in the moment but when I wasn’t thinking about these poor women, I could feel him glance over at me every now and then.  Not Penelope, me.  He was probably just trying to vet me but still, his glance was the only one that was distracting.

Hotch speaks up again, now addressing Spencer “Reid, I want you to stay here and help the girls.  I want you to look through all the message exchanges these women made and see what you can find.”

Spencer nodded before sitting up in his seat “We’re probably dealing with a serial rapist.  Most find their victims online and have no plans on stopping.”

If my stomach wasn’t in knots before, it sure was now.

Hotch nods in agreement while standing up “Which is why we can’t waste time.  JJ and David, I want you to track down the family and friends to see what else we can find out about these women.  Derek, I want you to help me set up with the local police department.”

With everyone’s new assignments, each split up except for myself, Penelope, and Spencer.

Penelope was the first one to say something “Well, I have a feeling this is going to be the new dream team.” She beams, which makes Spencer and I laugh.  It seemed wrong to laugh after a meeting like that but at the same time it felt good to cut the tension.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

“So this is the lair.” Penelope opened the door to reveal a windowless room covered almost top to bottom with countless amounts of tech and software.  It was a tech guru’s wet dream.  One wall was just dedicated to the software towers running the computers on the desk.  There probably wasn’t a need for the ceiling lights, the numerous buttons, and screens admitted enough light all together. 

I tried to act cool, like I saw things like this everyday, but my jaw betrayed me, hanging open and laying out all my inner thoughts.

Penelope giggled and nodded in agreement as if she read my mind “Yeah that was my reaction the first time too.” 

She shut the door behind us before giving a little tour.  From the computer monitors, to the bulletin wall, everything had a purpose amongst the wires and plugs.  Finally Penelope gestured to the chair-less section of the desk next to her seat “And this is your little corner.”

Resting on the desk was my own computer monitor, shiny, and new.  The corners of my mouth twisted up into a smile and I guided my chair over to get a closer look.  This was a nice jump from coding on my laptop.  “Wow… The government spares no expense does it?” I joke, still attempting not to look too much like a fan girl.  In reality I felt like crying.  I was almost in disbelief that I was trusted with my own system.  With this software I was going to have so much power to help people.  I wasn’t powerless in this wheelchair.  Inside this screen I could find and save as many people as possible.

Penelope giggled before gesturing to her portion of the desk “I recommend getting cute little creatures to spruce up your side.”  Her side was littered with all kinds of knickknacks and critters that could be sold at any Dollar Store.  If it was considered cute, it was there.  Her pens were even topped with those fluff balls.

The sight made me giggle this time before I looked at her “As much as I love your set up, I don’t know if it’s necessarily me…” My voice trails off as I slightly wince, hoping I didn’t suck the wind out of her very perky sails.  I didn’t consider myself a black cat kind of girl, but I definitely wasn’t that perky.  I was one of those girls who geeked out over movies, or the latest romance novel everyone was raving over.  Yes, even tech girls are into romance.  Not exactly unicorn vomit though.

Penelope snickers a little but I could tell there was something haunted in her eyes “Well…  Sometimes after looking at these screens long enough,” She picks up a little toy that looks like a hybrid of a cat and a unicorn “You need some cute things to look at.”

My face fell, realizing what she meant.  Even though I only knew this woman for less than a few hours, my heart hurt for her.  I knew this job took a toll and no one was immune to it, but on the outside it seemed like Penelope was maybe a rare bird that was too sunshine-like to be burdened by the horrors that come with looking at these screens.  I didn’t want to push so I just gave a small smile and spoke softly “I-I’ll think of something…  Maybe displaying some books or something might be fun.”  The gesture was more for my new friend rather than me, but maybe she was on to something.

That seemed to do the trick because Penelope took a deep breath as if to reboot herself, then let her smile return with a nod.  She put the toy back then grabbed an earpiece off the desk “So this is yours, can I put it on for you?” 

After giving a nod of consent, Penelope carefully leaned over and moved my brown hair so she could place the piece of tech in my ear.  Once it was secure, she steps back to look proudly at her work with her hands on her hips. “Well Newbie, we’ve just met but I don’t think you’ve ever looked better.” 

We both start laughing before the door swings open and Spencer steps inside with a folder in his hand.

He looks between Penelope and I before smiling at me softly “I see Penelope has already started to get you suited up.”

I giggle slightly and nod.

Penelope makes a slight crooked smirk towards him “I say she already looks like she fits the part.”

Maybe all the blue light was starting to get to my head already but I could have sworn this so-called genius blushed in my direction. I didn’t do anything to evoke such a reaction.  He just looked at me with another smile and his cheeks grew a pink tint.

Penelope glanced between the two of us and smirked again.  It looked like ideas were brewing in her head but I couldn’t begin to think of what they were.  “Should we get to work then?” She asked, almost suggesting.

Spencer and I quickly nodded in agreement, both ignoring the awkward exchange that just went down.

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 4

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 4 - Socially Blocked

Little different chapter style. Hope you enjoy. Also, I have no beta so mistakes are all me.

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.8k

AO3

Chapter 3

You had joined Prentiss in her office several hours ago to go over the forensic evidence that had come in. Laptop balancing on your thighs, you compile the data and cross reference missing persons with the families that Lewis had been gently consoling until the lab techs worked their magic. This was your nightly ritual with the section chief since joining; identification and providing closure.

What you did during the day was follow her around like a fucking assistant. You were now well versed in FBI budgetary matters, regulatory concerns, and how long new policies would be put into practice. You knew there were countless mind-numbing meetings, but this was insane. Most of the meetings could be cut in half, be done over Zoom, or just not happen at all. Just fucking email one another.

Then there were piles upon piles of paperwork to sort, sign and scan and files to review sent by local law enforcement agencies asking for FBI assistance. Just briefly glimpsing some of the cases made you wonder how one could decide which case mattered more. Go after one psycho but let the less of a psycho go free for the state to handle? Some requests had to be denied general FBI involvement due to a jurisdiction juggling nightmare that needed to be sorted first.

If this was a section chief’s life, how the fuck did Brian survive being the director of the entire CIA?

The more pressing question on your mind was why Prentiss was doing her damnedest in limiting time between you and the rest of the team. Okay, yes, Prentiss didn’t know anything about you, and yes, it was difficult to delegate work to you without knowing all your capabilities, but being a special agent in the CIA meant something.

You just gave the BAU a ton of money! Least you could do something more than be a glorified secretary! Not like you expected time out in the field, you totally understood that was out of bounds, but it’s been three days like this, and it was getting on your nerves. Why were you familiarizing yourself with FBI manuals if all you were good for was be a gopher for Prentiss?

Day 1

1145

Prentiss had given you a quick tour of the bullpen leaving the conference room for last. When you enter, excited to present your sweet offerings, you saw the team was already standing and ready to break. Introductions were made quickly, with almost every team member thanking you for the food and grabbing something.

Luke grabbed a chocolate frosted long john with a grin. “Can’t wait to catch up with you when we get back!”

You blink. Back from … what?

JJ grabbed a handful of macarons with delight, already stuffing one in her mouth as she left. “Dis isz weally nice ov ya!” she said, covering her mouth to not accidentally spew crumbs at you.

Rossi was far more debonair and rounds the choices with an index finger before plucking out a glazed twist, flashing a smile. “Thanks, kid.”

You saw Garcia slipping out quickly without making eye contact.

The hell?!

You open your mouth to say more, but he looks apologetic. “We’ll talk more later. Gotta lot going on right now, but we’ll make time.”

At least Tara had the decency to stop for a few seconds to exchange simply pleasantries. “So nice to finally meet you! Rebecca says nothing but good things.”

You raise a brow and chuckle. “Really?”

Prentiss looks unconvinced as well.

She shrugs and steals a macaron. “Yes, for real. I’ve gotta lot of family interviews and sessions lined up today, but we’ll chat more later.”

Patting you on the shoulder, Tara starts to exit the conference room backwards, pointing at you with promise. “You’re gonna have to tell me all you can about that HSC* in Saxony. Later!”

You sigh with close eyes and your head falls back. These little tidbits were not helping without context for your new boss. Even before you open your eyes to look at Prentiss, you just know she is staring at you with contempt.

Yep. There it is. Just missing an eyeroll.

Without being asked, you take a seat at the table and shove the box towards Prentiss. “We were tailing ISIS members. One decided he could get away when we moved in and learned how very wrong he was about it.”

1315

Prentiss left you to read FBI procedural manuals while she went to meet the deputy director. She had thought it prudent to delay you two crossing paths for as long as possible considering he was not happy with either of you. It was nice to hear that you had something in common with Prentiss. The tiny scrap of connection was something, no matter how pitiful. And you knew Prentiss was happy to upset Bailey.

This leaves you alone for a short time and you decide to use it wisely and check in on Garcia. It was really bothering you why she ignored you earlier today. Yeah, the team was busy with the Sicarius case, but everyone else had acknowledged you as they hurried off. Surely the bold color choices of her ensemble meant she was outgoing and not shy. You didn’t even make polite eye contact.

So, you go by instinct and grab a few left over macarons and position them with purpose on a white paper plate before heading to what you learned was The Lair.

Aware of not barging in on a tech’s work, unless you wanted to have your head bit off, you knock and wait.

“Entrer!’ you hear through the door and smile.

You open the door and poke your head in with a playful grin. “Hey, Garcia.”

The flurry of typing abruptly stops and you see her stiffen. Your grin quickly falls into a frown.

“I’m sorry.” You fully move into the room, noting the same outlandish decor that matches Garcia’s clothing. “I hope I’m not bothering you?” you say hopefully.

“Nope!” She pops the p and goes back to typing. By a cursory glance on what was on the screens, yeah, you had no idea what she was working on.

Garcia said nothing more but the stiff body language and her outright ignoring you once again, made it clear you upset her. Pushing her at this moment would only cause the divide to widen. You barely know each other.

“Well, I saw you didn’t take any treats and brought them to you. Probably hard getting away while you’re …”

“Cataloging important data,” she said quickly, still not looking at you.

“Yeah, so …” you look around and see an open spot on the table to her right. You are careful to not move anything when you put the plate down next to a fuzzy neon green turtle. “Enjoy when you-“

“Hey Garica, I’m jus-“ Prentiss’ fond tone quickly dissolves to accusatory. “You’re supposed to be in my office.”

“And I took a break. That a problem?” you challenge, taking in Prentiss confident posture, hand out before her with the other in her suit pants pocket. She cut quite the authoritative figure.

Garcia keeps typing away but slower so she can concentrate on you and Prentiss.

“No, but I’d appreciate you leaving the team alone while they’re working.” The words sound like a suggestion, but the tone was an order.

“Yeah, sure,” you concede, again, not wanting to cause an unnecessary argument. But first, you bow to the back of Garcia sitting in her chair. “Bon appetit!”

You rise and move pass Prentiss, both of you locking gazes and it ticks you off you had to look away since you were the one leaving.

“Oh, darn it!” whimpers Garcia. “Why?!”

Alarmed, Prentiss walks over to her with concern. “What’s wrong, Penelope?”

With a deeply etched sullen look on her face, she shows Emily the plate you had left. It was a macaron smiley face. One eye was pink, the other blue, and the smile was purple. You chose the bright colors on purpose.

“Why'd she have to do something this cute?!” she complains. “I’m not supposed to like her!”

1750

You roll your head working out the stiffness that settles in your shoulders from being hunched over most of the day on Prentiss’ couch going over manuals and signing off on orientation documents. You had tried various positions to find any source of comfort once joints began to ache. You sat on your ass with feet on the floor, legs on the couch, cross one leg, then the other, then had to stretch them along the couch. Then you said fuck it and placed the laptop on the cushion and laid supine while working and then to top it off, you sat on the floor with the laptop on the couch like a desk not giving any fucks what Prentiss thought.

She offered the couch, not her desk, to work on, and you didn’t want to get all up in her business setting up shop across from her. She’d probably shoot you if you decided to leave for a desk in the bullpen. And oddly enough, when it appeared you were going to get up, she engaged in questions about what you were reading or if you had any concerns. All sterile and by the book, but with suspicious brown eyes trying to figure you out.

It was only day one and you were willing to play the game, not letting her get to you. All in all, it really was a typical first day of boring bullshit. Just without a cubicle.

Eh, you had suffered far worse with even more irate coworkers and direct supervisors. But this felt different. Maybe Brian was right and you weren’t made for the general population. And yes, that meant the people at Quantico.

You weren’t kidding that Prentiss was a legend when you made that quip. Faking her own death to protect that kid and her team was a brilliant self-sacrificing move that you deeply respected. Then as you dug deeper into the team’s background, you gained a deeper respect for the BAU’s work, dedication, and the trauma they’ve been through to keep the people of your country safe.

Of course, you honed in on Prentiss’ work since she was your superior. One assumed if you were CIA or former CIA everyone knew each other and that simply wasn’t the case. While Prentiss was infiltrating Doyle’s criminal organization, you were gathering intel in Afghanistan on al-Qa’ida's operations. You two worked very different operative circles.

Despite your specializations never intersecting professionally until now, on paper, you two should at least get along and have something to talk about then just … whatever this was in her office right now. You both were driven, intelligent women who were dedicated to the people on your team and would protect them at all costs. Your skill sets were complementary and overlapped with being seasoned international operatives, you spoke several languages, focused on counter terrorism, and were awarded many commendations for mission successes and demonstration of skill sets.

But here you are, sitting on the floor of her office like you were her kid finishing homework.

“You should probably head home.”  

You glance over your shoulder and scowl, seeing Prentiss was looking down at a file and not you.

“I don’t mind staying and catching up with all this. Same thing I’d be doing at the apartment. The lab reports are important to review ASAP.” You didn’t want to correct her about what home was and wasn’t.

You look at the files cluttering the desk and cross your lips in thought. “Need any help? Granted, I’m not savvy enough yet on all the FBI lingo but paperwork’s still a bitch however you cut it.”

That made her look up at you. She was motionless as she considered your proposal and your earnest face.

“Thank you, but no.” She looks down again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” After you salute, you stand up and stretch, hearing your knees pop. You then grab your laptop and manuals, tucking them under your arms securely.

Note to self, bring a backpack.

You are polite as you walk by, offering a nod she didn’t appear to see. “Night, Prentiss.”

She hums noncommittally but as you drag your eyes away from her desk, you notice something that provides a glimmer of hope.

On a napkin that had been tucked out of view near one of the file stacks was a half-eaten red macaron.

Day 2

0630

You came to Quantico early with a bottle of Diet Coke in hand and your black and grey backpack secure around both shoulders, ready to tackle the day before anyone else got here.

Yet you see a movement coming from Prentiss’ office window and have to stop. She was already here? You squint in thought and presume she had stayed late and came in early – basing this assumption on her work ethic and how every good leader worked themselves ragged on little sleep.

You down some more pop and climb the stairs to her office, gently knocking. She opens the door and you raise a brow at her because she was wearing yesterday’s clothes.

“What are you doing here?” she asks with surprise accusation.

“Wanted an early start. What’s your excuse?” you probe gently.

She thins her lips and steps aside as a silent invitation to come inside. “Sicarius.”

Prentiss didn’t have to say anything further for you to understand the unspoken. She had no one to go home to, so why worry about time and just bury herself in work. And by the time Prentiss realized what time it was, she might as well stay in her office and sleep. She probably had a change of clothing in the closet, and it was easy to freshen up in one of the locker rooms. It was a more productive use of her time than driving home to do the same thing and come right back here. Avoid all that traffic.

You should know. You’ve done it yourself many times.

“Fair enough,” you say without judgement as you drop your backpack on the couch. “Does the team know?”

She reaches for the white FBI seal decorated coffee mug on her desk and frowns. “Know what?”

“That you stay here sometimes.” You knock back several gulps of pop before setting the bottle down on the side table.

After a moment of consideration while sipping her coffee, she looks to you with a narrowing gaze. “No.”

You nod, understanding the silent request. “Secret’s safe with me.”

1233

You were grabbing a cup of coffee for an afternoon pick me up, when you hear slow purposeful footsteps coming closer.

“Like a little coffee with your cream there, kid?” Rossi jokes, coming to stand beside you.

You chuckle. “I do. Bonus if it’s French Vanilla.”

He regards you with wizened eyes, but you could tell he was exhausted with how often he blinks. “How long have you been CIA?”

Oh here we go.

“Long time.” It wasn’t a precise answer, but it also wasn’t a lie.

“Sounds like me and the FBI.” His eyes twinkle with mirth.

“Hey, I’m not that old,” you answer with a grin before taking a sip of coffee.

He laughs as you swallow and continue. “You know, it’s probably not a surprise I know your work, Mr. Writer.”

Rossi acknowledges with a nod. “No, this does not come as a surprise at all.”

You hum, nodding. “Broken Child was the first one I read. Though, I did follow your work with the Gideons closely.”

He smiles with delight. “Really?” Rossi pauses and gestures for you to follow him to continue this conversation elsewhere. You could tell he was fascinated by this. “How far back?”

“Oh, pretty far. As you know, your guys’ work wasn’t all BAU related.”

“True. The CIA did take part of our research for profiling training. And to use for psych evals on operatives.” He smiles. “Am I getting close?”

“Definitely warm.” You smile back. “It was part of my training.”

“You’ll have to tell me more.”

And just as things were becoming interesting with a non-Prentiss member of the BAU, she has to come and ruin it. It’s like the woman had a sixth sense when you were getting too close to one of her teammates.

“Hey, Dave. I need you in the conference room. JJ and Luke have an update on our unsub in Texas.”

“Right.” He holds out his hand, which you take, and he gently squeezes. “I look forward to continuing this later.”

Your smile was bright. Working with Rossi was a perk of agreeing to this. You never thought you’d have the chance to have face to face time with someone who wrote the blueprints for training you, again.

“Yeah, me too.”

He keeps your hand for a moment longer before letting go and looking at Prentiss. “You sure the kid can’t just listen in?”

You try not to look eager and utterly fail. You just know you got the sad puppy dog eyes going. Which, of course, doesn’t work on the leery section chief. “Whitlock has promised to help me with paperwork. Isn’t that right?”

Fucking hell! She’s using generosity from last night as an excuse to keep me busy. ARGH!

Of course, you’re not going to call her out on it as you really did offer to help and meant it. You manage to keep the disappointment hidden from your voice and raise your cup to her. “Indeed, I did.”

“You can start with scanning the reports on top of my desk calendar.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you salute carefully with your coffee hand and wander off.

As you are leaving, Rossi looks to Prentiss with a knowing look. “You do know she might be able to help us with the case. You just don’t want her to.”

Emily heard the unspoken question of why. “We barely know anything about her. I don’t need a wildcard fucking anything up.”

“Emily. Come on. She’s a seasoned CIA operative. We could pick her brain while she’s here instead of hiding her away in your office. Actually use her as a consultant.”

“You just like her because she read your books,” she fires back sarcastically.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point…”

1435

Whitlock: I hate this place

You were chatting with Brian on the CIA secure network on your laptop instead of your phone to avoid making Prentiss press as to what you were doing. You even silenced the chat notifications

Korogoth: It’s only the second day.

Whitlock: All I’m doing is reading and paperwork :(

Whitlock: Prentiss keeps socially blocking me!

Korogoth: What does that even mean?

Whitlock: I’m stuck in her office all day and when I need to go do something, she’s always up my ass. And when I’m free and have time to chat the team up, she magically shows up and stops it. It fucking sucks!

Whitlock: Stuffs coming in with the big case and I get to know nothing.

Whitlock: So all I do is read the FBI shit, which I know I need to do and scan in shit. I’m a over qualified secretary

Whitlock: UGH

Korogoth: Regretting it?

Whitlock: Yes

Whitlock: No

Whitlock: Maybe. Helping the families find closure is important tho.

Whitlock: And … I got to speak to Rossi for a sec

Korogoth: … and?

Whitlock: I told him I was a big fan :D

Korogoth: LOL really?

Whitlock: Why is that so funny?!

Whitlock: :P

Korogoth: What did you talk about?

Whitlock: That I read his books and papers.

Whitlock: With the Gideons

Korogoth: *facepalm*

Korogoth: Tread carefully missy.

Whitlock: ;)

Present Day

1145

JJ had returned earlier this morning with Luke and was now sitting with Garcia at her desk in the bullpen. They were focused on whatever was on Garcia’s computer and were animatedly discussing something about a message app behind a weather one.

You start to head over there but Prentiss comes in with Bailey and the deputy director makes a bee line right for you.

Ah, fuck.

You beat him to the introductions and hold out your hand towards him. “Hello Deputy Director Bailey. Special Agent Whitlock.”

“Yes, I know who you are.” He does not take your hand, and you curl it into a fist before dropping it. “I’m surprised it’s taken us this long to be formally introduced.” His tone was dripping with malice as he scrutinizes Prentiss.

Before Prentiss can react, you jump in to defend her. You hate high profile dickwards like him. “Well, there’s a lot going on with orientating me to FBI standards. Can’t go all CIA on your protocols.” You smile patronizingly. “Gotta be by the book, right?”

“Despite her unorthodox addition to the team, it’s prudent her training remains up to FBI standards,” Prentiss adds while Bailey attempts to stare you down.

He wasn’t even pathetically cute. Just … pathetic. The deputy director’s appearance was far too clean cut and pristine. He didn’t have that disgruntled tone that revealed years of field work that jaded an agent. There was no desensitized look in his eyes, just bureaucratic contempt.

“I’m glad to hear that. It takes months for an agent to go through training at Quantico, Whitlock. You wouldn’t want to diminish their hard work with the quick pass you’ve gotten.”

You smile sweetly.

What an asshole.

“We’re all on the same side, even though we’re on different teams, Deputy Director.” You lean forward with promise. “I won’t besmirch the good name of the FBI.”

Then your eyes drag over to Prentiss’ and soften. “I’m here to help.”

1345

You see the team assembled in the bullpen and have no idea what they’re talking about because you are in Prentiss’ office sorting paperwork. Your sincere invitation for Prentiss to trust you when Bailey was here was ignored.

1437

You are slowly dying inside sitting in on a budget meeting with Prentiss …

1634

… and then an advisory meeting with the DOJ. Too bad Rebecca wasn’t here but then that would be socializing.

You two chatted briefly after your first day and made a promise to properly catch up when you could. With your schedules, it’ll be difficult but with how things are going. Well, more her schedule than yours …

1930

You come back from your introspection that had occurred over the last few days and try to focus on the unfinished email you were drafting for Lewis. The problem is that the words remain blurry, and you are unable to concentrate to type the rest of your thoughts. Your thoughts are swimming around the fact that in the three days you have been at Quantico all you've been is snubbed by the woman currently ignoring you at her desk.

You close your laptop and rise to take a seat across from Prentiss. Her mouth hangs open, with what you presume would be a line of questioning as to where you were going to go, and instead found you seated before her. Your boldness took her by surprise.

“Ah, yes?” she asks cautiously. “Something wrong with the lab reports?”

She was well aware if you had an issue with the reports, you would have said something from the couch. As you have done before.

“No. Just, you.”

You know you should be more patient like Brian encouraged you to be. Let Prentiss take the lead and integrate you into the unit. But you weren’t stupid. You can read the room, and the room wanted you far away from the members of the BAU.

Prentiss straightens up with wide eyes at the audacity of your words. “Excuse me?”

“No, you’re not excused. Not unless you can tell me why you’re keeping me all to yourself,” you respond flippantly.

She licks the back of her bottom teeth before it drags along her lower lip. Oh yes, Prentiss is ready to throw down with you. You see how her pupils blow wide at being provoked and she caps her pen before her. “All right. You want to do this? Let’s do this.”

The pen drops, as does the pretense before you.

“I don’t know you. But I do know I can’t trust you. Anyone I can’t trust is a danger to my people and therefore, you get to stay the hell away from them.”

You throw your hands up in celebration. “Finally! A real conversation.” You lower your arms and lean back, resting a leg over the opposite knee. “I’m sorry I can’t be completely forthcoming about everything about me. But that’s not my call. My shit’s sealed for a reason but it’s not because I did anything illegal. I'm sure that's what you're worried about."

“Then why did you need a lawyer?” she presses.

Fuck.

“I can’t say.”

She shakes her head with displeasure. “Of course you can’t. Because good agents don't need help covering up their messes.”

“Oh come the fuck on, Prentiss. Wilson’s a good person. A good lawyer. She helped me because …” You grit your teeth because you need to collect your thoughts before you say too much. You inhale deeply and uncross your legs to lean forward, gesturing with open hands for understanding. “… because it was a call I had to make. Follow orders and have people die. Or I did what I did. Which I was absolved of, ya know. That's gotta count for something?"

Without knowing the exact circumstances of what you did, you weren’t sure if Prentiss would care or not. You could have disobeyed orders because they were truly the wrong call or your superior was compromised in some way, or this was a cover up because you fucked up. You are hoping that she thinks the former because of dropping Wilson’s name as a good person and lawyer. Which is all true!

You watch as she subtly shakes her head, at war with her thoughts. “But there’s nothing about you. You barely exist. I can’t just accept you if there's nothing to back up your claims. So, you’re a means to an end for me. For the BAU.”

Wow. Pretense is so gone now ...

“You know, I’ve been thinking of myself as your highly paid secretary, but hey,” you roll your eyes, “let’s go with CIA sugar mama.”

“See that,” she points at you with indignation. “That right there’s why I can't take you seriously. You’re fucking lack of respect. Making jokes that are way outta line.”

“Oh fuck you and your wine addiction.” Yeah, you went there, gesturing to the half empty bottle. The woman downed a one a night and that was only what you saw. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had more. “Least I use humor to mask the trauma of my past instead of drowning it with alcohol and work.”

“How dare you make fucking assumptions about me,” she snaps, voice raising to meet yours.

You audibly scoff and rise, Prentiss doing the same. “You’ve been doing it the whole time since we met, let alone profiling me. Which I get, since you don’t know shit about me. But at least I was trying to get along with you despite the fucking cold shoulder. I ain’t expecting to be best friends but you don’t need to be a bitch about the situation.”

You turn around to grab your things, knocking over several empty Diet Coke bottles that you balanced on the couch arm.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Leaving your delightful presence.” You stuff your backpack with your laptop and books. “I’ve had more than enough of this shit.”

You miss the moment of panic on Prentiss’ face since your back was turned. Her mind was reeling with the ramification of what this could mean. Are you leaving for good? If you weren’t working with the BAU on paper the contract would be in breach. Pride kept her from asking you to clarify as she watches you storm off and slam the door behind you.

Emily grits her teeth as she leans over her desk, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She gives up, the anxiety of the situation she finds herself in too much and pulls the top left drawer open of the desk to get the pack of cigarettes stashed there. She quickly lights up and takes a long drag off the cigarette, unable to fight her trembling lips as she blows the smoke free.

“Fuck…”

What was she doing to do?

*High Speed Chase

Chapter 5

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (7)

SERIES MASTERLIST Part Summary: She finds herself in a compromising position.

Warnings: Case detail

a/n: this is my first time writing suspense and crime-mystery, so bear with me if you find any inaccuracy

-

IF THERE WAS ONE THING SPENCER WAS SURE OF, IT WAS BEING SLEEP DEPRIVED. Fatigue draped itself around his shoulders, draining all of his energy while his mind stumbled through a cycle of exhaustion.

He stifled a yawn, his mind trying to focus on the situation at hand and not the lack amount of sleep he was having. When was the last time he actually slept on his bed? When was the last time he went through his days without constantly refilling his cup with too much caffeine? The muscles around his eyes were starting to twitch with restless energy, a sign of a restless mind faltered under the weight of weariness.

Yet amidst it all, a strange resilience emerged within him. He still managed to focus his blurred vision, scanning his eyes around the room as he pushed away any fatigue and the desire to be somewhere else.

His gaze finally ceased on Garcia, engrossed in her own digital world, a sleek laptop perched on the round table before her. She leaned in, her eyes fixed on the vibrant screen which illuminated her face with a soft, cool glow. "Alright, so, I did more digging onto our recent victim, and let me tell you this, Jamison Lynch wasn't exactly the boss of the year."

JJ looked up from the document in her hand, sitting across from Garcia. "What do you mean?"

"Jamison Lynch was somebody you wouldn't want as a boss. There were a lot of complaints coming from his subordinates—which surprisingly, most came from female workers."

Spencer's eyes scanned the large board in front of him adorned with a labyrinth of interconnected information. Photographs of the two crime scenes were pinned up, highlighting key details, while strings of marks and drawings crossed the board. "He was very different from the first victim."

"Exactly. Kevin Marshall was the epitome of boss of the year, and everybody just loved the guy, which was why no one could guess how something terrible could happen to him."

"There's a chance what happened to him isn't related to his job," JJ offered.

"Maybe not," Garcia muttered, throwing Spencer a curious look. "But the question is still unanswered, how are the two victims linked to one another?"

"The Unsub's memo is clearly done to punish them," Spencer explained, his attention started to gather all the information gripped onto his brain. "The verse written on Jamison Lynch's body was Romans 6:23, For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in our Lord."

JJ leaned over the desk with a pointed stare. "One thing for sure, the Unsub has a strong religious background."

Spencer nodded. "All the verse they used highlights the notion that sin carries consequences, and death is described as the 'wage' or payment for those transgressions. In his mind, they may interpret these verses as a justification for his vigilante actions, believing that he's carrying out divine punishment on behalf of God."

"A religious upbringing," JJ suggested. "The Unsub could have grown up in a deeply religious environment, where strict interpretations of scripture might be emphasized."

"Most likely a distorted belief system." Spencer's hands were all over the place as he continued with his elucidation. "Over time, the Unsub's religious beliefs may have become twisted and distorted, leading him to believe that he possesses a unique calling to carry out punishment on behalf of a higher power."

He then studied the picture of the first crime scene, his eyes raking over the lifeless body covered in a pool of blood. "Kevin Marshall might seem like the golden citizen, but he must be involved in something that could be illegal..." He suddenly looked over to Garcia. "Did Jamison Lynch start his career as a journalist?"

Her fingers danced across the keyboard. "Yes, he published a lot of his work since 2004."

"Search any articles he wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, or maybe the company he worked for. "

"Or legal cases that he was assigned with," JJ added.

"That could be a start, although it might take a while because sleuthing without much lead is difficult." Garcia peered at the two of them by the rim of her eccentric, colorful glasses. "But do not fret, I am known to be the best."

Footsteps suddenly emerged into the room as Aaron Hotchner glanced around the three of them. "Garcia," he mentioned, standing behind her. "Did you find any old cases that might be involved in the victims?"

"Ah, yes, the system was searching through the database based on your queries this morning and it took me a while before—" A sudden ping echoed from her device. “Well, that was perfect timing."

Her fingers clicked across the keyboard as her eyes scanned the dimly lit screen. Everyone in the room stood frozen in their tracks, their faces etched with a curious mix of trepidation and curiosity.

Garcia's eyes widened, revealing the turmoil that echoed the collective sentiment of the room. "Whoa."

JJ stood up and circled her way around the table, standing close to her. "What is it?"

"I started looking through the database for any similar crimes in surrounding areas this morning." Her attention shifted between the other three people in the room. "There have been enucleations in other cases, but none recently, and none close by. No similar murder case was shown, but suicide on the other hand..."

"Harvey Webb," JJ read, looking at the photo of the deceased man. "Suicidal death?"

"Thirty-nine-year-old landlord took a tumble off a sixth-floor balcony two years ago, exactly on the apartment complex he rented out."

"Why are we looking at a suicidal case?"

"That's the thing, the local authorities ruled out that he might've not jumped on his own accord, although his wife at that time determined that he had been having suicidal thoughts for a long time and decided to close the case." Garcia did more tapping on her keyboard and somehow pictures of the crime scene were plastered across the screen in front of the room. "Harvey went through depression and a lot of suicidal attempts, there were always cuts along his arm except—"

"There was a writing on his body?" Hotch guessed.

Garcia nodded as she clicked on a clearer picture of the victim's arm. "His autopsy came in that while there were definite signs of attempt self-hurt, this was written between the cuts."

"Galatians 6:7," Spencer read, his eyes fixated on the screen as he recited, "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

"Definitely a vigilante on the loose," JJ remarked.

Spencer hummed a positive response and walked over to the board, a marker in his hand as he wrote down the verse. "This verse underscores the concept of reaping the consequences of one's actions, which could further justify the Unsub's belief that his victims deserve punishment for his perceived sins or mistakes."

Hotch studied the pictures of the recent victims and the one shown on the screen. "The way the words are carved across the skin is definitely done by the same person," he noted.

JJ looked between the three pictures before nodding. "I agree." She then glanced up at her co-workers. "So why the different MO? Something connects these three victims, and yet this one"—she pointed to the photo of Harvey Webb—"died in a completely different manner. He either jumped or was pushed. We don't even know if it was a murder, just that he was branded the same as the other two victims."

"The timeline doesn't add up," Spencer claimed, his brows furrowed deeper. "There's too much of a gap between the first victim and the second victim, we're looking at two different stressors that triggered the Unsub."

Hotch stood beside him, crossing his arms as he studied the evidence they had collected these past few days. "If this was his first victim and the two men were his second and third, it's possible he's advancing, that his fantasy is developing."

Spencer looked back at the three pictures. What connected these three dead people, two murdered in violent, heinous ways, the third a potential suicide victim? What wrongdoings might they possibly sin? And now he couldn't help but feel the weight of Hotch's words and how revolting one could act in this series of crimes, proclaiming them as fantasies, his skill, and determination more distinguished than ever before.

"If that's the case..." he pointed out, a certain tension hanging in the air. "He's only getting started."

-

She must be mad—utterly, completely out of her mind.

She always considered herself a very sensible person characterized by an ability to think critically, or make rational decisions on logical reasoning. But her thoughts, once orderly and coherent, twisted into bewildering shapes because here she was, perched right in front of an apartment door she once closed behind and never looked back.

Why did she think it was a good idea to come here uninvited at this time of hour? How did she end up being here when she was lying in her bed a few hours ago?

She recalled turning around in her sleep, or perhaps, her attempt to rest her eyes, because she found herself staring into the dark with an unsettling feeling in her gut. Maybe all the turmoil of emotions piled up in her chest had her going into a panic frenzy, relentlessly moving in her bed when she should've been fast asleep.

Somehow amidst dwelling on her anxiety, she was suddenly on her feet, putting on a jacket before calling a cab. Her mind was too tangled to be driving on her own, and when the driver asked her where she was heading, she recited the area she was familiar with. Did she remember the building she wanted to go to? Yes. Did she know the exact address? Apparently not.

Although it was easy to spot the building. The old but clean apartment was recognizable, the sturdy wooden door, adorned with vintage brass fixtures, welcomed her after she tipped the driver her fair. The cool air hit her face, her hair flying around her shoulders as she spotted a residence walking out of the building. She quickly slipped in, seeking a very much-needed warmth, yet now she was starting to question her common sense.

But it was too late to turn back because her hand was already curling into a fist as she knocked on the door. Once, twice, three times. When there was no answer, she wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed. She knocked once again, and when she was met with silence, she decided it was a sign that she was indeed making the wrong decision.

So she exhaled a breath she wasn't even aware of holding, turned around, and completely froze when she was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes. There he was, almost a week since the last time she saw him, standing on the last step of stairs.

Time seemed to stand still. Her heart skipped a beat, his presence exuded a captivating charm. His chiseled features were accentuated by a sculpted jawline, leading up to a pair of intense, deep-set eyes that seemed to hold a hefty amount of fatigue. Dark circles cast shadows beneath his eyes, hinting at nights spent wrestling with restless thoughts.

He was dressed in a rumpled shirt and loosely fitted trousers, his attire mirrored the fatigue he wore upon his face. The fabric seemed to hang upon his frame, lacking the crispness that usually accompanied his wardrobe. But despite his weariness, there was an undeniable pull emanating from his presence. It should be illegal how handsome he still looked even when he looked like he needed some rest.

Spencer took a tentative step closer, looking reminiscent of a puppy with his eyebrows pinched at each beginning in a way that can only mimic either confusion or concentration. "Y/N?"

"Hi," she awkwardly greeted, suddenly feeling out of place.

"What brings you here?"

"I..." she trailed off, her brows furrowed as she tried to find a reasonable answer. But somehow she found herself telling him the truth. "I honestly don't know."

His eyes fixed upon her, silently studying her figure. A cascade of lustrous hair framed her face, falling gracefully upon her shoulders.

"Do you want to come in?"

"I don't want to impose on you—" she stepped aside, letting him unlock his door. "Or disturb your much-needed rest."

A ghost of a smile curled on the corner of his lips as he fished out his keys. "I look terrible, don't I?"

"I wouldn't say terrible, just... you look very tired."

"I haven't had proper sleep in days." With a steady hand, he inserted the key into the lock before a satisfying click echoed in the air. With a gentle push, the door swung open, and he gestured to her with a nod.

She looked between him and his apartment. "Are you sure?"

"Come in," he offered. He walked inside his home and pulled the door ajar. "Please."

She studied him for a while before nodding. The floor creaked as she stepped into his household, and as the door swung shut behind her, she scanned the room that seemed familiar yet foreign at the same time. A sense of warmth enveloped her despite the predominantly dark colors that adorned the space. Soft, ambient lighting emanated from placed lamps, casting a gentle glow upon the room.

She walked past him and noticed the chessboard splayed across the coffee table. "I didn't know you play chess." She sat down on his couch. "Looks like you were in the middle of a game… was someone else here?"

He wasn't sure whether he heard a note of jealousy in her voice, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Actually, I was in a game with myself," he answered sheepishly, shrugging off his suit jacket before placing it over his couch. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, it's alright." She leaned forward, her gaze fixed upon the chessboard. Her eyes darted back and forth, analyzing the board with a keen interest before moving a chess piece, placed with precision and purpose.

Genuine surprise crossed his face as he settled beside her. "You know how to play chess?"

"A little. I used to play with my father growing up."

"You don't play with him anymore?"

She shook her head. "He passed away when I was young. Both of my parents did."

"I'm sorry," he gently spoke. He leaned back and turned his body toward her. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, just me."

"I'm an only child too." Then he assessed her carefully while her eyes wandered beyond her striking features, a subtle tension betrayed a deeper complexity lurking beneath the surface. "Now are you going to tell me why you're here?"

He noticed the subtle language of her body where uncertainty weaved on her face. It was in the way she looked between him and her hands, a balance between wonder and reservation that hinted at the lingering doubt within. Then she took a deep breath, her brows furrowed as her voice filled in the silence.

"Does it make me a bad person that I didn't cry after everything that happened?"

He frowned, taken aback by the sudden question. "What do you mean?"

"There was a memorial service for Jamison a few days ago, and while everyone mourned, I just... stood there." She looked down at her hands. "What happened to him was very unfortunate, it just happened that, apparently, I have no emotions.”

His head fell back onto the couch as he watched her. "It doesn't make you a bad person. Grief is a deeply personal and individual experience, and people respond to loss in different ways. Crying is just one expression of grief, but it isn't the only definitive indicator of how much someone cared for or was impacted by the loss of a person, especially given how you saw what had happened."

"But it makes me feel kind of heartless." She glanced back at him. "I mean, he wasn't exactly the greatest boss, and I should've felt a certain kind of sadness, but I... I don't know how I feel, to be honest."

"Y/N," he gently called, his expression softening. "It's important to remember that everyone grieves in their own way. What matters most is that you find healthy ways to navigate and process your emotions surrounding the loss, whether it involves crying or not."

She hummed in response. "I guess you do have a point."

"I do, and I'm right most of the time." Spencer smiled when she rolled her eyes and a comfortable silence settled between them. "Now tell me the truth."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What truth?"

"You obviously have a lot on your mind right now and I'm trying to wrap my head around why you chose to be here."

"Do I need to have a reason?"

As his gaze lingered, he found himself drawn to her eyes—a delicate blend of curiosity and trepidation. They shimmered with a gentle vulnerability, revealing the depths of her longing to be seen and understood.

"I would like to know your reason."

She weighed her words carefully. "I couldn't sleep,” she decided to say. “My mind was constantly turning its gear, then it got too overwhelming?” She shook her head. “I-I guess I needed the comfort..."

As she tried to find her voice, her words become entangled in the turmoil of her emotions. With a deep breath, she gathered her courage. The words spilled forth, unfiltered and vulnerable, resonating with a sincerity that echoed through the room.

"And somehow you were the first person that came to mind."

Spencer felt an unfamiliar intensity washing over him—a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty that tugged at his heartstrings. And then suddenly, completely out of nowhere, the desire to embrace her consumed him, both thrilling and terrifying. It was such a baffling thought because he found hugs to be overwhelmingly intimate for his liking, yet there was this urge to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her body against his.

The weight of uncertainty pressed upon him, urging caution and restraint. But logic lost its battle with instinct, and caution lost its wrestle with impulsive longing as he found himself asking, "Can I give you a hug?"

Her body tensed, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. But as he kept staring at her, she realized that he was being serious. And she found herself nodding, yearning for the warmth radiating from his body.

He carefully drew closer and a magnetic force guided her movements, gently pushing her into his arms. Nervous excitement coursed through her veins, infusing a sense of vulnerability.

Bodies entwined, they breathe in unison, inhaling the essence of closeness as senses unfold—the warmth of skin against skin, the familiar scent that filled the air, the weight of the world momentarily faded away as they surrendered to the pure simplicity of human touch.

His head was spinning with longing and somehow he managed to pull her body gently onto his lap. She silently accepted his tug, placing her legs on either side of his thighs as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Amidst her relishing the gentle press of his body against hers, she couldn't help but find amusement in this new position.

He felt the subtle shake of her shoulder as a burst of soft laughter escaped her mouth. He suddenly tensed. "Is there something funny?"

The confusion etched in his voice had her pulling away, a small smile lingering on her face. "Yes," she answered. "It's amusing how you like having me on your lap so much.”

A slight warmth spread along his face as he became aware of her weight settling on top of him. "I didn’t notice."

She wasn't sure whether it was the glimmer in his eyes, the bashful smile on his lips, or the way he didn't pull his gaze away from her, but before it could register in her mind, she drew herself closer to him. The sudden shift of her movement caused a friction underneath her, and it was at that moment she realized how compromising of a position they were in.

Her fingers brushed against his skin, and an electric current surged through her veins, awakening a longing she had not anticipated. Her eyes flickered with a newfound intensity—a hunger that shimmered in the depths of her gaze as she could only focus on the pulse settling between her thighs. 

As her longing deepened, she became acutely aware of his proximity. The scent of him enveloped her, intoxicating her senses, and her mind was consumed by allowing herself to surrender in this newfound need. 

So she slowly rolled her hips, feeling his body beneath her, and suppressed a moan when she felt the outline of his bulge stroking against her core. Her breath hitched, betraying the innocent intentions that had initially brought them together. 

She felt him tense from the friction and his heart thudding hard against his ribcage, her heart beating to the same rhythm. "Stop doing that," he suddenly said, eyes darkening as he stared at her, voice deep and raspy. 

"Why?" She whispered.

A whirlwind of emotions churned within him. His heart ached to offer comfort, yet primal longing tugged at his core, igniting an undeniable urge to keep her closer, to indulge in the sudden pull of desire.

"Because if you don't," he grunted, his hand sliding up her neck, burying it in her thick hair as he tilted her face. He pulled her closer, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat. The heat of her presence lingered on his fingertips, tempting him to pull her into an embrace that transcends mere comfort. "I won't be able to stop myself."

His gaze then traced the contours of her form. The subtle curve of a hip, the graceful arch of a back, the gentle swell of a chest—all become objects of fascination. He watched as her tongue wiped along her bottom lip while she slid her hands across his shoulders, stopping right on his chest, hovering above his heart.

"Then don't," she softly pleaded, moving her hips once again, igniting a moan deep within his chest. “I don't want you to stop."

It was the only push he needed as he closed the distance between them, finally crushing his lips to hers.

>> NEXT PART

.

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[princessbrunette]

read some of ur older stepbro!jj stuff and thought abt reader having a date one day and jj feeling jealous but also super conflicted since he’s still battling the moral obligations of it all but it’s all fixed when you come to him when you get home begging for him to fix you cause the guy couldn’t touch you in the same way that jj does

jj thought he could move past it.

hell, he was the one who encouraged you to go on the date in the first place. you remember how that felt, the weird bitter sinking feeling in your chest when you’d told him some guy asked you out, hoping for a reaction deep down and instead being met with him adjusting his cap, sending you a carefree, squinty, classic JJ smile with a “cool, happy for ya.”

he obviously wasn’t, obviously wanted to find out who that guy was and stick his glock in the kids mouth for even thinking he could come close to you. but he knew how that looked, and jj wasn’t one to care about what people thought but this might’ve been a step too far. maybe it was for the best anyways, you could have something healthy.

jj came to the door and stared the guy down when he came to pick you up in his truck. super poguey— and that’s coming from jj, basic looking guy with fluffy surfer hair and a baggy tshirt. your stepbrother barely blinked as he locked eyes with the guy, a silent warning.

“i’ll make sure she’s back at a reasonable time.” the guy smiles, trying to be friendly. jj smiles too, but it’s anything but friendly.

“yeah ‘ya will, buddy.”

he doesn’t, of course — because it’s nearly 1AM when JJ hears the van quietly pull up and your copious amount of keychains jangling when you come back through the doors alone, the van driving off. well, atleast you didn’t invite him in.

like clockwork, his bedroom door creaks open, your silhouette in the moonlight slipping through and shutting it behind you. he watches you through lidded eyes as you toe off your shoes and creep over, pulling back the cover to slip into his bed with him.

jj yawns and stretches to pretend he’d been asleep and not staring at the clock biting his fingernails waiting for you to arrive home. he looks at the clock for theatrics, because he knew the time — and turns his scruffy head toward you in the dark.

“you’re home late. take it the date went well.”

you screw up in a ball right against him, rubbing your cold feet against his leg making him gently kick you. “hm. it was alright.” his heart leaps a little at the disinterest in your tone.

“just alright? no 5 star restaurant type o’date?” your eyes adjust in the dark and you see him staring down at your face, eyes flickering over your features like he was searching for a sign of something.

“not quite. typical pogues huh, who would have thought?” you joke softly, but there’s something you’re not saying. he stares for a moment before speaking.

“y’kiss him?”

“did more than that.” you mumble. his heart drops a little.

“what—” he clears his throat, gunning for a casual tone. “like what did you do… with him…”

you sigh, leaning on your elbow to really look at him. your brows tilt, creasing and you tip your head a little. “jj.” you whisper pointedly. he whispers your name in return, confused.

“he just…” you close your eyes, disappointed in yourself, the whole interaction feeling like a relapse. when you open your eyes, something has shifted. “he couldnt… touch me like you could. and it’s not that i didnt want it, i did— and i tried to get into it but… god JJ he sucked. it was like he was digging around for spare change between couch cushions.” the two of you stop to snicker like children, your body falling closer to his before you inhale, looking up at him again seriously. “just… left me all… wanting. high and dry. i knew that there was only one person who can fix the problem.” you whisper the last part extra quietly, ashamed.

he cups your jaw, bringing your gaze back up to his. “me. right?”

“yeah.”

he breaks into a grin. “well why didn’t you say so. lay back for me, yeah?”

it’s like he doesn’t even try, it’s effortless the way he touches you— makes you gush around his fingers with the slightest flick, creaming at his knuckles with the lightest brush of your clit. as your clammy back arches off his bed for the millionth time you start to think maybe the other guy wasn’t that bad. maybe you wouldn’t let yourself feel good— because it only feels good when it’s wrong. when it’s JJ.

[veeluvss]

No matter what

Jelle fluff and angst JJ is struggling with her ED again, Elle tries to help

JJ woke up around 6 am ready to take her morning run. She leaned over the bed and kissed her girlfriend, Elle, good morning before heading into the bathroom to get changed. She didn’t like getting changed in front of Elle anymore, although Elle was asleep, it still made her nervous. She grabbed the nearest towel and covered up the bathroom mirror before she got undressed. She avoided looking at her reflection in the glass shower door as she stripped naked. As quickly as she could, she pulled her gym gear on. She then took her morning wee, brushed her teeth and washed her face before emerging from the bathroom. Elle was sitting up in bed on her phone. 

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Elle whispered, still sleepy. 

“Morning,” JJ replied. She put her knee on the bed and leaned over, taking her lover's lips in a gentle kiss. Elle hummed into it and smiled, leaning closer to JJ as she went to pull away. JJ smiled, and kissed her girlfriend once more before pulling back. 

“Kisses,” Elle whimpered, laying back on the bed. 

“I need to go for a run before work, babe,” JJ said, smiling down at Elle. 

“But, two more,” Elle whispered. She held up two fingers and pouted, making JJ smile even more. Her girlfriend was the cutest in the morning. JJ saw a side to Elle no one ever saw and ever will see. A softer side that was gentle and kind and endearing. Everyone else saw a fierce Elle Greenaway who never wore her emotions on her sleeve and was work-orientated. JJ loved the other side of Elle, her special side.

JJ crawled back into the bed quickly, unable to resist kisses from her girlfriend. She opened her arms and Elle slid in between them and pouted her lips for a kiss.

“One,” JJ teased after their first kiss. Elle pouted and JJ giggled. She cupped Elle’s cheek and took her lips in for another sweet kiss. 

“Two,” she whispered. Elle sighed and nodded but didn’t move. Their eyes locked and they shared a special look, one secured only for lovers. Smiles were on both their faces and JJ kissed the top of Elle’s head, her nose and then her lips for the third time. 

“Three,” she said. 

“That was one more than I asked for,” Elle whispered, not complaining. 

“One for good luck,” JJ whispered. She tapped Elle’s back and Elle rolled out of her arms. JJ got out of bed and picked up her phone. 

“I’m going for a run and then I’ll be back to have a shower and get ready for work, you have to be ready by the time I’m back or I’ll trip over you again,” JJ said. 

“Yes boss,” Elle teased. JJ rolled her eyes playfully. “Be safe, baby,” Elle added as JJ reached the bedroom door. 

“I’ll be safe,” JJ smiled and headed out. 

Elle slid out of bed, climbing across to JJ’s side which was closer to the bathroom. She headed into the brightly lit room. She turned and saw the towel covering the mirror and sighed before pulling it down. JJ must have forgotten to pull it down herself, it was a sign she was getting bad again. Elle felt awful. Seeing her girl struggling so subtly was so hard for her, she often didn’t know what to do. When the girls first got together, JJ was knee-deep in a severe eating disorder. She wouldn’t eat for days and would be sick if she did eat. Elle loved her wholeheartedly no matter what she ate and that love and support helped her get better. She wasn’t cured but she was doing better. She could look at herself at least. Elle wondered if it was just a bad day. She did her morning business and jumped in the shower, wondering what to do about JJ. She knew now that JJ had left without eating. It was okay really, she’d eaten last night and kept it down it just mattered if she ate afterwards. Elle decided to make her breakfast when she got home. 

JJ returned half an hour later to the smell of porridge being cooked. 

“I made us breakfast, come sit,” Elle said as JJ came into the kitchen. JJ paused by the door, looking at the array of fruit on the table. It overwhelmed her immensely. She didn’t feel up to eating today. She hated the way she looked, she’d been putting on too much weight again, and her reflection made her sick. She knew with the run and the fruit, it wouldn’t affect her too much but the porridge bloated her and made her look fatter. She hated it. 

“JJ,” Elle said, walking around the table. JJ was in a trance, lost in her thoughts. Elle grabbed her hands and JJ stepped back, shaking her head. 

“I need to - er - I need to shower,” she mumbled and hurried off up the stairs, away from Elle and the food. Elle sighed and looked at the display on the table, maybe she’d done it wrong. She put her head in her hands and rubbed her brow, feeling overwhelmed. She loved and cared about JJ so much, she just wanted her to be healthy. Instead of the porridge and fruit, she decided to make them both protein smoothies. It gave JJ some good supplements she needed, especially after exercising. And if they both ate the same thing, JJ wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. 

After covering the mirror up again, JJ stripped off and jumped in the shower. The water was nice and cold, shocking her system back to reality after the food incident downstairs. Sometimes, it made JJ mad how hard Elle tried. Sometimes she wished she’d just back off and let her get on with her bad habits. JJ knew they weren’t healthy for her, she knew not eating was bad for her body and her brain but she had no other choice, she had to stay skinny, and pretty. She needed Elle to keep loving her. JJ was convinced Elle only loved her because she was skinny and pretty and she knew she only had friends because she wasn’t fat. She didn’t want to be fat. She couldn’t eat.

Once she was dressed, she headed downstairs to see Elle sitting at the kitchen table. 

“We have ten minutes before we have to leave, I made you a protein shake,” Elle said and pushed the bottle over towards where JJ stood. JJ shuffled from one foot to the other. She didn’t want that either. 

“There’s traffic, we need to leave now,” JJ said, picking up her bag and car keys. 

“Okay, you can take it with us then,” Elle said without missing a beat. 

“No,” JJ said. Elle shot her a look of confusion. “We might spill it in the car, it's best we leave it here.”

“JJ it has a non-spill lid. We won’t drop it at all, we’re taking them.”

“Not in my car, we’re not,” JJ said, crossing her arms. 

“Then we’ll take my car,” Elle said, picking up her keys. 

“Elle, will you just drop it?” JJ snapped. 

“JJ, you need to eat something,” Elle replied, her voice soft compared to JJ’s raised one. 

“I don’t and I won’t. I don’t want your porridge, your fruit or your stupid protein shake. I don’t need anything. Back the fuck off,” JJ said. She picked up her phone from the side and headed out the front door, slamming it shut behind her. Elle stood in the hallway, dumbfounded. It wasn’t until she heard the car driving away that she realised JJ had left. Elle sighed and put both shakes in her bag before heading to work in her car. 

As she walked through the car park, she noticed JJ sitting crying in her car alone. Knowing she couldn’t leave her girlfriend in such a state when she was so vulnerable already, she headed over to her car. Thankfully, the doors were unlocked so she slid into the passenger seat with ease. JJ didn’t look up, she didn’t need to, she knew exactly who it was. Elle reached over and unbuckled JJ’s seatbelt and guided it back to its original position. She then wrapped her arms around JJ and pulled her into her side. JJ clung to Elle’s t-shirt and sobbed heavily into it, tear patches formed. 

“You’re okay,” Elle whispered, attempting to soothe JJ. “I’ve got you now.” 

“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” JJ cried. 

“It’s okay, it’s all okay,” Elle replied. She cupped JJ’s head and stroked down her hair. 

“It makes me so mad that no one understands,” JJ said through tears. 

“I know, baby,” Elle sighed. 

“I just want to be normal.” 

“You are normal. Everyone struggles. You just struggle with food and that’s okay. We can get you better.” 

“It’s up to me, not you. I hate that you put it on yourself,” JJ whispered. 

“I only care about you, Jay,” Elle sighed. “I care about you a lot and when I see you hurting I can't help but feel like I need to help you in any way I can.”

“I just don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re never a burden to me, you’re my girlfriend, the love of my life.”

“But..” 

“No buts. I love you and I’m here for you.” JJ sat up then and wiped her face quickly. 

“Do you promise you love me no matter what?” 

“JJ, I promise I love you no matter what,” Elle said. She cupped JJ’s cheeks in her hands and leaned in to kiss her tenderly. JJ kissed back then pulled away. 

“You love me whether I’m skinny or fat?” 

Elle sighed and tilted her head to the side. “No matter what,” she whispered. “I love you. And I will always love you.” 

JJ nodded and lowered her head. She began to explain her thought process. How she wasn’t sure Elle loved her if she ate, how she didn’t want to be perceived as the fat girl in the FBI, how she didn’t want to look at herself ever because she was scared of what she’d see. Elle sat and listened. She squeezed JJ’s hand to show her support when the blonde’s breathing picked up and she suggested deep breaths where necessary. Once JJ was done, she leaned into her girlfriend and Elle took her back into her arms. 

“I’m so proud of you for talking to me,” Elle whispered. 

“Thank you,” JJ replied, sheepishly. She hid in Elle’s chest and sighed. 

“How about we look into getting you therapy again? Actually go through with it this time?” 

“Will you come with me?” 

“If that’ll help, of course I will.” 

“Okay,” JJ whispered. She sat up and checked the time on her phone. “We’re late.” 

“I know but our phones aren’t buzzing yet. I think we have time for a bit more cuddling,” Elle whispered and pulled JJ back. JJ let out a slight smile and cuddled into Elle. 

“I really love you, Elle,” JJ whispered after a few moments passed. 

“I really love you, JJ. No matter what,” she kissed the top of her head and they both parted. Elle leaned in to kiss JJ and JJ took the kiss softly. It was gentle and so full of love and care, as was their entire relationship. 

[historybunnny]

Autumn, 1900

For the rest of the day, Winifred worked quietly; still rather disoriented from her train being delayed that morning. Those sorts of things always seemed to put her in a strange mood, and Francis' genuine reassurance over her insecurities had only made it worse. She had never intended to lie to her coworkers about who she was; it was an honest mistake — when she filled out her application; she signed her maiden name, Monet, instead of Baudelaire and didn't notice until she was proof reading before handing it in; and she had truly had intended to change it. However, for a fleeting moment she thought, 'why can't I be someone else for a while? It would only be like playing a part,' and soon, she was posing herself as a 30-something year old spinster trying to make her own way in the world. There at the Windenburg Daily, she was not just Mrs. Baudelaire, a rich man's life, or a mother struggling to exist outside of that title. Of course, she considered the idea of explaining the mishap and coming clean. Except that, when she thought of how angry JJ, Terence, and especially Francis would be, she could never bring herself to try. As the years passed by, her double life had brought her the sense of self she'd been longing for. But she was no fool. She knew it was not a matter of if her folly would catch up to her, but when; and all she could do was hope that at the very least, she might publish a few stories beforehand and it would somehow be worth it.

next / previous / first

transcript below the cut

*click* *click* Winifred: oh, bullocks! *panting* I'm sorry I'm late, guys. My train was delayed Terence: Relax, Winnie; he isn't here yet Winifred: But, I hate- Francis: He's right, Win; you need to learn to relax a bit <the day goes on> *typewriter clicking* Francis: The days just get longer & longer. Winifred: Shhhh!!! Terenece: Here comes- JJ: *groggily* Good morning everyone. *in unison* Morning, JJ! Winifred: *mouthing* I forgot the coffee. JJ: Winnie, dear, my coffee? Winifred: Um, yes, I- Francis: She wanted you to try the coffee next door! Terence: She was just waiting for you to arrive. JJ: Ah, what a splendid idea! Winifred: Well, you know, I just thought with it being so chilly and all. JJ: Good thinking; Francis, go along with her. Francis: Yes, sir. Winifred: We won't be gone long. Francis: It smells so good in here. Two coffees, please. *liquid pouring* Winifred: I don't think I make a very good secretary. Thank you for covering for me back there. I don't know what I'd do without you and Terence. Barista: Two coffees, to-go! Francis: You know we like having you here, right? JJ, too. He likes you a lot. He's just... Winifred: Uptight? Francis: Well, I was going to say particular, but I suppose that is part of it, yes. And you're not a lousy secretary, okay? Terence and I understand it's a hard life for a spinster, but we don't see you that way. Always remember that. Winifred: Yeah...I-I will...

[w2soneshots]

Friends? -W2S

words: 1.3k+

warnings: angst with a happy ending, mention of a break up, friends with benefits. (I think that’s it?)

summary: you and Harry start a new relationship but he breaks your heart.

Liked by wrotoshaw and 461,093 others

y/username: my weekend❤️ @wrotoshaw @miniminter

-comments-

taliamar: stunning😍😍

-> y/username: me or @miniminter ??

miniminter: I look like a neek

y/nfanpage21: the shoes🔥🤍

user85358013: Is she on a date with Harry!??🫢

-> user91245750: no you can see other people there.

I've been best friends with Simon for as long as I can remember. We hit it off during school, I supported him when he first started YouTube, I introduced him and Talia and have always been the one person he actually talks to about things. Simon is a surprisingly closed off person, so when he cried into my arms because him and Talia were struggling I knew I'd finally broken down that wall.

When he began the Sidemen channel and moved into the house he shared with Vik, Josh and JJ we grew apart slightly. He was so busy: constantly streaming, making videos, editing those videos and his sleep schedule was royally fucked up. He had no time to hang out or even give me a call. But once he met Talia it began to change and I quickly found myself back in his life like nothing had happened.

I soon became good friends with the rest of the boys as I came around to the house more. I especially enjoyed Harry's company, he's funny, slightly awkward until you get to know him and he's very fit (which helps). As the years went by our friendships became stronger even as people began building their own lives with girlfriends, pets and even kids.

Almost 2 months ago while on a night out me and Harry got a little closer than friends should be... aka we fucked. The next morning I woke up next to him in my bed and slightly freaked out. But after that night it happened again and again until one morning as we sat lying next to each other, my head resting on his sheet covered chest we decided we were labelled as friends with benefits. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea but what else could I do? Tell him I was sorta starting to catch feelings... no way.

Another 2 months later... we have now been fucking, whenever one of us needed a release after a long day or just someone to hold them while they drifted off to sleep, for around four months. One day I woke up to a phone call from Simon. Me and Simon tell each other everything, we always try and find the time for a phone call at the end of the day or whenever anything big happens the other person is always one of the first to know. So it was no surprise he was very aware of mine and Harry's... situation. I answered the call "hello?" I said groggily through the phone. "Hey y/n... Harry-" he said hesitantly. "What about Harry?" I asked slightly pissed off that I was woken up from my deep sleep.

"His ex... she's back." he said. I was quiet for a second. Harry's ex abruptly up and left him almost a year and a half ago. She didn't give him a proper reason and he was left broken. "What do you mean she's back? Does Harry know?" I asked rapidly. "Woah woah, yes he knows... he told me he's getting back with her." he said the last part with pity in his voice. I felt as though all of the air in my lungs disappeared along with the oxygen in my bedroom. I blinked and a single tear rolled down my cheek. "y/n?" Simon said softly. I glanced down to my phone and clicked the red decline button.

As soon as I put the phone down I burst into tears. In that moment I knew I'd fallen hard for Harry Lewis. I was so confused on how he could completely disregard the past few months with me and get back together with the person who left him broken for everyone else to pick up the pieces. Almost an hour later there was a knock on my door. I signed and stood from my bed. Once I got to my front door I cracked it open to see Simon and Talia stood there. Talia also knew about me and Harry since she caught us making out in the back of a club so I told her the rest.

Simon opened his arms and I fell into them and began sobbing again. I broke away a minute later once I calmed down. Talia gently rubbed circles with her hands on my back as we sat on the couch. "How could he get back with her after what she did to him?" I said quietly. Simon spoke up "he told Behz that she just got scared of how serious they were getting so left, but I'm not one hundred percent sure about that." I looked up "he could have at least told me before I had to find out from you." I said fiddling with my hands. "I'm sure he just didn't want to hurt you." Talia said trying to think of any positive. "I would have found out ether way." I said.

They left soon after and I sat holding myself on my couch while I watched a movie. Then when 5 o'clock hit I ordered myself a Nando's, ate it and fell asleep on the couch. The next morning I woke up and took a long hot shower, got dressed into a sweat set and left my apartment.

I got the lift down into the car garage below my building and found my car. I hopped in and drove to Boots to pick up my click and collect package. After I picked that up I decided to go to Asda to pick up some stuff since I was in need of a food shop. I was wondering down the isles when I got a phone call from Faith... "hello." I said once I answered the call. "Hey, you ok?" She asked. "Uh ye, I'm just in Asda." I replied. "Oh ok, just because I heard about- um Harry's ex and I knew you too sorta had something." she said. "Wait what? You knew?" I said slightly flustered. "y/n. Everyone knew it was obvious." she said. "Shit."

After my phone call with Faith I paid for my food, packed my car and drove home. As I walked towards my apartment, three bags full of groceries in hand, I spotted someone sat next to my door. "Harry?" I said as he stood. "Hey." he said. I stared at him wide eyed "what are you doing here?" "I just- I- I need to talk to you." he said nervously. I sighed "come in."

Harry sheepishly walked into my apartment and we stood in the kitchen. I put the bags down and began unpacking them into the fridge and cupboards. Harry stayed silent until I was finished. I sighed and placed my hands on the counter that Harry stood on the other side of. "Listen, if you're coming here for a quick fuck then-" I started. "What- no- I- I just came um- to apologise." he said and I furrowed my brows. "What?" I said confused. "I broke it off completely with my ex... I just couldn't believe she was back- I was so stupid, I took her back immediately but last night I realised that she wrecked me and I'd already moved on and also that I loved someone else," he said and finally looked up at me properly... "you, I love you."

"You do?" I asked stunned. He nodded "it's okay if you don't feel the same but I just needed to tell you." I walked around the counter and stood in front of him "I love you too Harry."

[cloudlessly-light]

The wildest dreams (one-shot)

A/N: For @eobangingwhen who requested this little idea! I hope you like it!   

Summary: Emily has a sex dream about Aaron on the plane and he overhears it, so how could he not ask her about it? Word Count: 3,5k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, rough, spanking (blink and you miss it) Emily has a praise kink and I’ll die on that hill

It's silent on the plane back ride from Minnesota, not that Aaron blames anybody on his team for resting. They had been running on too little sleep for days trying to catch an unsub more elusive than most and they were all exhausted from it. Hell, he was exhausted too. But he couldn’t sleep, his brain still too active for him to get any rest, so instead he sat and quietly worked on the reports, signing the papers needed to get as much as possible done before landing.

He's sitting in the corner, his eyes flitting up to briefly look at the team peacefully sleeping. Spencer was on the couch, having left the four-seat table to be more comfortable, leaving Derek, JJ and Dave to rest in the seats beside him. Aaron smiled at how JJ was draped over the table, blonde hair covering her face, while Derek and Dave both rested against the wall. Lastly, Aaron’s eyes fell onto Emily sitting right across from him, she was rested against the wall using her scarf as a pillow as she slept. He took a moment to admire her like this, relaxed and soft, something he so rarely got to see.

He’s happy that they’re all getting some much-needed sleep, turns back to the paperwork in front of him to hopefully finish so he too could get some rest. It’s so quiet he almost forgets about them as he focuses on black ink on white paper. It’s so quiet that the sound of a soft moan almost startles him, his eyes quickly moving to see where it came from. It’s another few seconds of quiet and then he hears it again, a soft moan coming from Emily, still asleep.

It's quiet enough not to wake anybody, but he still hears it as she mumbles and for a split second he thinks that he should wake her up, thinking that it could be nightmare, they were all prone to them, but then she squirms slightly, her legs pressing together.

“Hotch…” She breathes so softly it’s barely more than a whisper “don’t stop.”

He feels his grip on the pen tighten so hard he’s surprised that it didn’t snap in two. He should wake her up, he really, really should. He knows that this is a huge invasion of privacy and yet…

“More, please Aaron I need more.” She fucking whimpers and Aaron feels the blood rush to his groin so fast he goes lightheaded. He watches her curiously, the way her jaw has gone slack and the way her cheeks tint pink.

He was about to stand up to wake her, he couldn’t continue to listen to her for her sake, and selfishly his own. He had known for a long time that his feelings towards her were more than friendly, that he wanted her in every way possible but he had never imagined that she had wanted something more as well.

“Don’t stop, I’m so close…” She mumbles and it’s needy and louder and he holds back a low groan and starts reaching out to her when all of a sudden turbulence hits them and the plane shakes, forcing them all awake with surprised noises and grunts.

Emily blinks, bleary eyes as the plane continues to shake and then it’s over, but she’s awake now and her eyes meet Aaron’s dark stare across from her. He’s still holding a pen and she almost pokes fun at him for his work ethics but she can still remember her dream vividly in her mind, feels how her thighs are clenching to relieve some of the heated pressure between them.

“Did you have a good nap?” He asks and she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Yes.” She says and there’s something about the way he’s looking at her that makes her tingle but she blames the more than inappropriate dream about her boss for that. “How long until we land?”

“About an hour.” He replies as he looks at his watch. He goes back to his paperwork silently, his belly burning with desire, his ears still ringing with the sound of her moaning his name. His first name.

Emily nods silently, she had only slept for about 40 minutes, but it was enough for her to know that there wasn’t any point in trying to fall back asleep. She digs out her own report from her purse and copies him, starting to work so she’d hopefully be able to get home faster after they had landed.

 Aaron sits at his desk and finishes up the last of his paperwork, happy that he’d actually get home at a decent time when there’s a knock on the open door. He knows that knock, knows who it is even before he even looks up.

“Prentiss.” He lifts his head to look at her and she takes the small nod as enough of an invitation.

“Finished the report.” She holds up the manilla folder and places it on the desk in front of him.

“Thank you.” He offers a small smile that she returns. “Are you heading home?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long week.” She chuckles dryly and he nods in agreement. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Her heels against the floor echoes loudly in his mind and he can’t stop himself when he stands up from behind his desk.

“What were you dreaming about on the plane Emily?”

He catches it, the slight stiffness that’s only there for a second as she stops, hand on the doorknob. When she turns there’s a moment of panic in her dark orbs, that she fixes quickly with a smile.

“I wasn’t dreaming on the plane.” She says and tries not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“No?” He leans forward, his hands landing on the heavy wood as he smirks slightly and Emily knows that he knows. He looks confident, almost cocky as his head falls to the side and she hates the way she blushes.

“Nope.” Her lips set in a firm line as her hand grips the doorknob harder. Her eyes flash to the bullpen, empty and silent and she realizes that they’re the last two still in the office. When she looks back at him he’s suddenly closer, has moved through his office in silence and is standing only a few feet away from her and she swallows hard.

“So when you were moaning my name, asking me not to stop,” He starts and his smirk darkens at the way her eyes widen slightly and cheeks burn with embarrassment, embarrassment she should not feel. “That was what… you not dreaming about me?”

Emily closes her eyes tight, shaking her head slightly. She was mortified. But then his warm fingers brushed her hair gently away from her face and she looked up at him. He wasn’t angry or embarrassed, he seemed… self-assured and calm and then he was leaning down towards her.

“It’s not a bad thing Emily.” He whispered and his breath caused goosebumps along her arms and she sucked in a breath.

“Hotch I…” She searched his face, saw nothing but want reflected in his dark eyes and she turned her body into his instinctively.

“It’s a great thing.” His fingers moved from where they had lingered by her ear until he was tilting her chin up. “I’ve had dreams too.” He leaned in, his lips brushing hers, her perfume clouding his senses.

“Aaron-” Whatever she was going to say gets cut off by his lips against hers, his body pressing her into the door who shuts behind her roughly as he towers over her. She moans into the kiss, her lips opening enough for his tongue to push between them and his groan rumbles against her.

All he can think about is hearing her sighs and moans again, can barely focus on anything but how her soft body feels pressed tightly against his. His thigh presses between hers and her fingers tighten on the lapels of his suit in response. When their lips break apart, he’s quick to press kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He smirks at the way her pulse flutters wildly under her skin and he rakes his teeth over it and she makes a sound, low and breathy but it’s not enough.

“Are we really doing this?” She asks as she leans back against the door, tilts her head back to give him more skin to suck, kiss and bite over.

“We are.” He says, voice already dropping low, a vibration against her neck. His hand move under her shirt, his touch firm and determined, fingers splayed wide over her lower back to pull her closer to him. “Unless you want me to stop?” He pulls back to look at her face, an eyebrow raised as his thigh rubs against her clothed center and she rolls her hips into it with a breathless gasp.

“Fuck no.” She pulls him in to kiss her again with a firm grip on his tie, trying to take some of her control back as he keeps her pinned against the door. Her hand not gripping his tie in a tight fist, pushes at his suit jacket until he helps remove it and it lands on the floor. It’s her turn to smirk when they break apart this time, her effect on him obvious. She took in the way his eyes were clouded over with want, how his breathing was labored and hands insistent as they moved over her skin, pushing the fabric of her shirt up. She could feel the rush of adrenaline settle between her legs, her clit already throbbing as he kept grinding his thigh against her.  

“Take off your shirt.” His voice was low and she shivered at his tone. But she obliged, because she wanted him and the sooner they were naked the sooner she could have him.

Aaron took advantage the moment she let go of his tie to remove her shirt. He grabbed her by the waist and moved her through the room until she trapped between his desk and his body. He removed her bra and with quick movements he bent to suck on the skin of her breasts, sucking dark bruises into the pale flesh before wrapping his lips around her nipple, making her arch into his touch with a moan.

“Fuck…” She mewled as he tugged her nipple between his teeth and tugged slightly. Her fingers tangled in his soft hair, gripping it as he moved from one breast to the other, lapping at her other nipple before sucking it harshly. Her eyes fluttered closed as he kept moving down, licking a stripe down her taut stomach until he was kneeling in front of her, his fingers already on the button of her pants.

Aaron was quick to get her pants down her legs, dragging her underwear with them until they were a pile around her feet. He stood up slowly, taking in every inch of skin that was revealed to him with a hungry stare.

“So pretty.” He mumbled before hoisting her up on the desk and pushed her legs wide apart to stand in between. “So pretty, all for me.”

Emily moaned softly as his warm hand moved between her legs, slowly brushing through her folds until his thumb settled over her clit, drawing lazily up and down. It’s too soft, too gentle and the smug look on his face makes it clear that he knows it too.

“Tease.” She breathes through a chuckle, her own hands finding his belt and getting it unbuckled. She gets her hand inside his boxers to stroke him before his pants are even down his legs and the grunt that leaves him make her even more desperate to feel more of him.

“Tell me about it.” He says between open-mouthed kisses against her shoulder, causing her eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Tell me about the dream.” He explains and his thumb stops moving completely, making her hiss in disappointment.

“Why?” She pushes his boxers off only to take his hard cock back in her hand and pumps it, enjoying the way his hips jerk into her touch.

“Because I want to know what I did that made you feel so good,” He whispers the words against her ear and then pulls back to look at her face “and because good girls get rewarded.” The whine only clarifies what he wanted to know, what he thought he already knew about her. “And you want to be good for me, don’t you Emily?”

“Yes.” She gasps quietly, it had always been like this, since the moment she met him, she had searched for his approval and apparently in this situation things were very much the same. She could feel arousal rush through her, could feel her wetness increase at his words.

“So tell me.” He muttered before kissing her quickly, pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and then kissed back down her neck as his thumb resumed circling her clit slowly.

“You- you were- fuck,” she stuttered, her hips rolling into his touch, her own hand still wrapped around his thick shaft. “you bent me over a table in a precinct.” She closed her eyes as he hummed approvingly, his lips moving back to suck on her breasts.

“That’s it?” He asked and she flushed with arousal and embarrassment.

“And, there were people there, watching.”

That certainly got his attention, his cock twitching in her grasp.

“Oh an exhibitionist are we?” He smirked when he straightened to look at her and she whimpered at the way his pupils were blown wide, how the dark want she saw in his eyes was for sure reflected in hers. The sound that leaves him next is nothing short of a low growl in his throat as he pulls her up only to bend her over the desk. “Maybe we’ll do that some other time, for now you’ll have to settle with being bent over my desk right here.”

She moans as the cool surface of the desk meets her heated skin. She turned just in time for her to see him unbuttoning his shirt, and her mouth watered at the sight of his strong chest. She’s about to turn back around, wanting to touch him but he pushes between her shoulder blades, keeps her pinned easily with a chuckle.

“Stay right there.” He tells her as his shirt joins the rest of their clothes on the floor. He pumps his cock a couple of times as he looks at her, gives her a soft spank experimentally and when she moans and arches up higher he grins. “Look at you, so eager.” He muses and spanks her again, hard enough for her skin to turn a soft shade of pink, then does it again on the other side.

“Aaron, please.” She moans out without thinking and it’s what he’s been waiting for, for her to moan his name and the sound alone almost makes him come right there. Her eyes are heavy lidded as she turns her head to look at him. “Fuck me, please.”

He grips his cock, runs it through her wet folds and groans at the heat of her. She’s soaked, her wetness coating his tip as he pushed on her lower back, keeping her still when she squirmed and tries to move back against him. The sound of his cock slapping gently against her is obscene, filthy and somehow loud as they both seem to hold their breaths.

“Aaron…” She whispers but she forgets the rest of her sentence as he pushes inside of her roughly, burying his cock deep inside of her with one thrust. “Fuck!” She slams her fist against his desk and he groans loudly behind her, his hands gripping at her hips. She’ll have bruises from his hands, a reminder for days on her body of this moment and she loves it.

He gives her only a few moments to adjust to him, his need winning out now that he finally felt her around him, her walls hot and tight and clinging to his cock as he started to fuck into her with heavy strokes.

“You feel fucking amazing.” He grunts through clenched teeth, his hips slamming against her hard enough for the desk to rattle. His eyes are fastened on the way he’s disappearing inside of her, how her flushed folds grasp his cock. It’s a sight he’d fantasized about for years, somehow even better than he’d ever imagined. Then he trails his eyes up and catches the way her hands grip the edge of the dark wood, her knuckles white and her breathy moans fills his ears.

She hisses when his hand is suddenly in her hair, pulling her back until she thinks he’s going to snap her in half from the way her back bends. His breathing is hot in her ear, his lips wet as he bites her earlobe. Then his other hand moves around her, fingers finding her clit and she cries out desperately. He’s everywhere, he’s everything she can smell, think and feel.

“You’re going to come on me.”

It’s not a question but she nods the best she can in his grip anyways. Her hands scrambles on the desk, pushes over a lamp in search of something to hold on to until she gives up and simply grips his arm.

“That’s it, give yourself to me.” He groans when her short nails dig into him, leaving little crescents in her wake as she starts to tremble. “Already?”

“Yes, fuck yes, please, don’t stop.” She moans, her words breathless as he brings her closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.”

Somehow he fucks into her even harder, their skin making slapping noises to mix with their moans and groans and pants. He lets go of her hair only to wrap his arm around her torso instead, his hand gripping at one breast as he continues to rub her clit. She’s clenching around his cock, her body straining as she cries out.

“Do it, come on my cock.” He can feel his own climax building, the way her cunt tightens around him making it impossible to hold back.

A sound that’s more animalistic than human rips from her throat as she crashes into an orgasm so intense that her legs completely give out, every muscle in her body trembling. She hears him telling her to breathe, too lost in pleasure to be remember to but she sucks in desperate breaths as he continues to rub her clit and fuck her, drawing it out until she’s sure she’ll pass out from the power of her release.

Aaron groans in her ear, feeling and seeing her come a power rush unlike anything he’d ever felt. He lets go of her carefully, lets her rest against the desk as low whimpers and whines leave her parted lips and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“Where?” His voice is thick, graveled and Emily sighs happily.

“Inside.” She tells him and his hands only tightens on her waist. She’s still blissfully delirious, mind still hazy as she feels his hips stuttering, his groans somehow getting even lower. She can feel how close he is and she squeezes her muscles around him.

“Fuck, Em!” He growls and then he’s coming, spurting deep inside of her, hips grinding into her as he gives in to his own release. Emily hums, sated and happy as his hands turn gentle, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he places gentle kisses up her spine. “Are you alright?” He asks quietly, his lips ghosting over her shoulder.

“Yes.” She nods slowly, a lazy smile on her lips “More than alright.” She feels him straighten and he slips out of her. When she stands up too her legs are still weak and she leans on the edge of the desk. “Are you?” She asks as she looks up at him.

“I’m so good.” He chuckles and she joins him. “Now what?” He asks and she loops her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss, this one soft and gentle and everything they hadn’t been with each other.

“Now,” She smiles at him “we have two choices. One, we get dressed and pretends this never happened, or two…” She trails off and his fingers twitch against her rips, his nose nuzzling hers.

“Or two?” He asks with a smile.

“Or two, we get dressed and you’re taking me back to your apartment so we can do that again.” Her eyes twinkle when he laughs loudly.

“Well, that’s the simplest decision I’ve ever made.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Many Roads Diverge in the Woods - Second Run - Finale

The Beginning | Previous

The results are in.

You have reached the end of your path. Will you be happy with what you’ve found?

Thank you to everyone who participated in this event! It was amazing to see everyone still chip in to a second run of this fic. And if you guys are wondering, yes, the full thing is currently up on AO3! Whoo! I'll include a link at the bottom of this part beneath a Keep Reading, but basically, the name is "Many Roads Diverge in the Woods - An Interactive Story" and my username is CrystalNinjaPhoenix! So basically the same as here XD There are about 300k worth of more routes to explore! I'd love to see you all there ^-^

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“Wait a minute.” Chase’s eyes go wide. “JJ, you didn’t just get blood all over your hands. You got it on your sleeves, too. Your white sleeves.” He tugs on one of JJ’s cuffs. “Even if you wiped your hands off, there should still be a stain!”

“Wait, wait!” Schneep grabs JJ’s other arm, and JJ promptly yanks both his hands free. “Gah! Sorry, Jamie, I was just checking to see. You are right, Chase. There is no sign that there was ever any blood.”

“And... why does this matter?” Jackie asks, frowning. “I-I know it’s weird, but... what does it mean?”

The others are silent for a moment. Then JJ raises his hands to speak. Maybe... maybe I was right. Maybe Marvin isn’t dead.

“But—but we all saw that, right?” Chase says. He shudders just remembering the sight—the sounds—all of it. “He definitely slit his own throat.”

“And JJ definitely got his hands and sleeves covered in that blood,” Schneep says. “And yet...” He trails off, looking thoughtful. “What if... what if it was not real?”

“How the hell would it be ‘not real’?” Jackie demands. “There was no pulse!”

“I know! But if we are dealing with the supernatural, we have to account for perhaps—perhaps some sort of elaborate trick,” Schneep says. “Some sort of magical illusion that could also feel real as well as look real.”

“I-I guess it’s possible,” Chase says. “Meaning... Marvin isn’t dead? But then... Look, he’s the only one of us who would be able to make a magic illusion. And why would he do that?”

Unless it wasn’t him. JJ taps the book Chase is still holding open. Specifically, the illustration.

“You mean—you mean some sort of spirit possessed him?” Jackie asks in a hushed voice.

“In that case... where is it now?” Schneep wonders.

JJ suddenly stiffens. He turns and runs back down the hallway.

“JJ! Hey!” Chase drops the book as he tries to reach out and grab JJ, but he’s moving too fast and his grip just barely closes on empty air instead of JJ’s arm. So instead he runs after him, leaving Schneep to pick up the book again. “Where are you going?!”

He was going to the room with the ritual circle. Chase catches up with him as he hesitates outside the open door. JJ glances at him—and at Schneep and Jackie, who are running down the hallway after them. Once everyone is there, he reaches into the dark room and turns on the lights.

A figure is crouched in the center of the ritual circle, one hand pressed against the burned lines making it up. Somehow, the four wooden chairs from the other room are in here now, spaced evenly around the edge of the circle. A rope is coiled on the seat of one. The figure looks up. It’s Marvin. It’s definitely him. But his eyes... They’re all black, no whites or irises to be seen. A smile stretches across Marvin’s face. It is not his smile. “So... you figured it out?” he asks. Or, rather, the creature using his body asks. “No matter.” It raises Marvin’s other hand, and—

Suddenly, Chase feels something push against him, shoving him forwards into the room. He cries out as he falls to the floor—and then again as Jackie falls on top of them. All four of them had been pushed forward by some mysterious force and are now in the room, lying on the floor. And behind them, the door slams shut. “Y-you!” Jackie gasps, standing up first. “What are you?!”

“So much more than you. That’s all you need to know.” The creature gets to its feet in one smooth motion. “Now. Are you our first volunteer?” That smile stretches Marvin’s face again—and suddenly there is a knife in his hands, a thin silver dagger, and he rushes towards Jackie.

Jackie cries out and dodges to the side. The creature starts to lunge for him again—but Chase, thinking fast, reaches out and grabs Marvin’s ankle, now nearby. The creature gasps in surprise and stumbles, almost falling but catching itself against the wall. “Guys?! What do we do?!” Chase asks.

JJ gets to his knees. He points at Schneep—no, he points at the book that Schneep is still holding. Schneep looks at him. Read! JJ says.

“O-okay.” Schneep nods. “You all keep him distracted!” He opens the book up to the marked page and starts scanning it.

“What is that?” the creature asks in Marvin’s voice. Is that surprise in its words? “Where did you get that?!” Marvin’s body spins around and runs for Schneep—but Chase launches himself from the ground and right towards Marvin, knocking him back. The creature screams in frustration. There’s a flash of silver—but then Jackie grabs Marvin’s arm right before he’s able to plunge the dagger into Chase’s back.

“I-I just have to read what’s written out loud,” Schneep stammers. “I-if we—if we do it right his body will seize, r-remember not to hold him when that happens.”

“You motherfucker!” The creature growls. With one arm being held by Jackie, it moves Marvin’s other hand, wrapping it around Chase’s throat and squeezing. JJ gasps and hurries over, prying his fingers free. Chase gasps as his airflow resumes.

“Do it, Schneep!” Jackie shouts.

Schneep nods. He looks down at the page, hesitating, and starts reciting the words. “Sp—spiorad gan i-iarraidh, a... ordú againn... duit im-imeacht.” He goes slowly, unsure how to pronounce the words.

“No!” The creature shouts. Suddenly, Jackie, JJ, and Chase are all thrown away. Marvin’s body scrambles upwards again and he lunges towards Schneep again, But, yelling in rage, Jackie gets to his feet and tackles Marvin to the ground. The dagger falls from Marvin’s hand and skitters across the ground. JJ quickly scoops it up again. The creature notices this and growls. “Do you think I need that to kill you?!” it threatens.

 JJ nods. He looks at Chase and points towards Marvin and Jackie. The two of them are struggling on the ground as Jackie tries to keep Marvin’s body pinned. Normally Jackie would have been easily stronger than Marvin, but the creature is fighting with all of Marvin’s strength, not caring if it hurts Jackie or Marvin in the process. Chase nods back to JJ and hurries over, arriving just in time to stop Marvin from punching Jackie in the face. The creature screams wordlessly and thrashes against Chase and Jackie’s grip.

Suddenly, the lights go out, plunging the room into total darkness. Schneep’s voice, slowly chanting the words, falters. Then JJ pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight feature, shining it towards Schneep, who continues.

The creature growls and flings Marvin’s hand out. The book jerks forward, like someone is trying to pull it from Schneep’s grip, but he holds it steady—though he glances at the others with a panicked expression.

JJ glances back at the struggle. Marvin, he signs, causing the light to waver, but not enough to deter Schneep. Fight.

“H-he’s right!” Chase gasps. “Marvin, you have to be in there somewhere! You have to fight this!”

“Fuck off!” the creature snaps.

“Ní l-leatsa an corp a... ghlacadh,” Schneep continues. “Ní leatsa an ai-aigne a... úsáid. Ní leatsa an t-anam a... a-adh-adhlacadh.” He still stutters a bit, but it’s clearly not affecting the spell. 

Jackie grabs Marvin’s hand and pulls it back. “If you can hear us, Marv,” he says, “we need your help! C-can you hold it back? Please! Try, at least!”

“You don’t have to do it forever!” Chase adds. “Just long enough for Schneep to finish!”

Marvin’s body shudders. The creature starts to snarl something—and then abruptly stops. The black in his eyes flicker back to normal for a moment. “T-try...” Marvin whispers. His limbs jerk, but overall he stops fighting. Jackie still holds him, though, arms wrapped tight around Marvin’s torso. Chase watches, tense, waiting.

And then, suddenly, Marvin’s muscles tense again. He screams, head throwing itself backwards and arms and legs starting to shake. “I-it’s the seizing!” Chase gasps. “Like Schneep said! Let go of him!”

Jackie abruptly does so, scooting backwards across the ground. He watches Marvin with wide eyes. As do Chase and JJ. They all stay where they are, looking and feeling helpless as Marvin convulses and screams on the floor. “W-we have to do something,” Jackie says desperately.

“Maybe we can hold his head still.” Chase reaches out—

“No! Th-that’s gotta be as bad as holding him!”

“I don’t want him to hit his head, though!”

Jackie hesitates. “I got it!” He takes his jacket off, bunching it up and placing it under Marvin’s head. “B-better than nothing.”

Schneep glances at this and nods approvingly as he continues to chant. He’s getting a hold of the words. Soon his voice rises, more confident. “Díbrím thú! Fág an corp, aigne agus anam seo. Díbrím thú! Téigh go dtí an domhan eile atá ag fanacht leat. Díbrím thú!”

All at once, Marvin goes still. His screams end abruptly, but his mouth stays open as a thick black smoke pours out. It rises into the air, and there is the shape of a person in the cloud, a writhing mess of limbs struggling to reach back in. Glowing green eyes appear, glaring at the others with unmistakable malice... and then they wink out as the smoke disperses. Marvin goes limp against the floor. The lights turn on again.

CRACK!

All of them jump in surprise at the sound—and look down at its source. The wooden floor has splintered, a large divide going across the ritual circle burned into the ground. A red liquid pools in the new crack and spills out over the floor.

But they have more to be concerned with. JJ drops his phone and rushes to Marvin’s side, falling to his knees next to him. He grabs him by the shoulder and starts to shake. Schneep runs over as well, and Jackie and Chase crowd around Marvin in turn. “Marvin?!” Chase says. “Marvin! A-are you okay?!” 

Marvin groans and opens his eyes. They are back to normal again. “All of you... get... the fuck away from me.”

They all abruptly jerk backwards. JJ laughs, a sound of relief. “Well sorry for being concerned,” Jackie says, sounding irritated but smiling nonetheless.

“No, he is right, he needs his space,” Schneep says, gently pushing the others back. There are tears in his eyes. “Marvin, I-I... I am so glad you are okay.”

“Yeah...” Marvin breathes. “You.. y-you did great, Schneep. Mispronounced a few things, but I don’t blame you. And it worked. Th-thank you.”

How do you feel? JJ asks.

“...tired,” Marvin mumbles. “That sort of tired where it’s on the edge of everything hurting.”

“Are you okay to move?” Jackie asks. “I... don’t really want to be in a room where the floor is bleeding.”

“Th’what?” Marvin turns his head to the side, seeing the red liquid bleeding across the floor. He frowns. “I think... I think that means whatever spell it’s about is... broken? Whatever. Blood isn’t good. I dunno if I can move, but... if you guys wanna get out of here... I can try.”

Jackie shakes his head. “No, don’t make yourself. Uh, I can carry you, if you want?”

“That’s fine.”

“Okay.” Jackie stands up, taking Marvin with him. The other three stand up too and follow them out of the room.

Are you really okay, Marvin? JJ asks. That must have been terrible.

“I-it was... more confusing at first,” Marvin says quietly. “Things were... I saw... I-I don’t really remember some of this night. Then I woke up again, and I... saw him. And he... was using my body...” He shudders.

“It’s fine, Marvin,” Chase whispers. “It’s over now. We can get out of here.”

“Is that what we do now?” Schneep asks. “Just... leave?”

“I think so. I don’t want to stay in the cabin with a weird evil ritual circle in the basement. And I want to ask Jack what the hell this was all about. It’s his cabin, he has to know.”

“I don’t think we can ask Jack...” Marvin says. “He... th-that spirit, he made a comment... something about getting Jack out of the way...”

Fear jolts through Chase’s heart. “Then we definitely have to get out of here.”

Maybe we should rest first? JJ asks. Marvin’s not in great shape. All of us are exhausted.

“I’m fine with leaving soon,” Marvin says. “I can... can lie on the couch while you all pack your stuff.”

Jackie nods. “Sounds good to me. What about the rest of you?” 

“I can drive in the dark,” Chase says.

“I do not think we should stay here,” Schneep mutters.

Whatever you all think, JJ adds.

“Then we’ll do it. Come on.” And Jackie heads for the stairs. The rest of them follow.

It doesn’t take them long to re-pack their stuff. They didn’t really have time to unpack fully before everything went terribly. Marvin lies on the sofa, and the others take turns waiting by him, not wanting to leave him alone. He keeps muttering things that don’t make sense. Things about blood being life, and life being power, and what the symbols in the circle meant. When someone asks, he says he doesn’t know what he’s saying. That there is just knowledge in his head now. Knowledge he doesn’t want.

They load the car with their stuff, then head on out. Marvin claims the passenger seat, saying he doesn’t want to be crowded by the others right now. The others let him have it. It’s the least they can do. As Chase starts the car and heads out, they debate calling someone. But in the end, who could they call? Who would believe them?

As the cabin disappears into the woods, Marvin leans his head against the cool window. “Guys...?” he says. “Th... thanks. I-I lov... I really appreciate it. Thanks.”

They all know what he almost said. And they all feel the same.

Ending Reached: Banishment

(Congratulations for reaching the best ending on the Marvin route! :D And here's the link for the full version now uploaded to AO3!)