#birthday wishes for rossi

[rossithepixie]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROSSI!!! i hope your day has been wonderful and good to u! to a wonderful year 🎉🥳🩷

Thank you, Lore! 💞 I've had definitely had a good day! Mellow but good and I think I like it that way considering how eventful things have been lately. I hope you're having a good night!

[indyfstop]

Alex is such a sentimental person ♡ | via alex's story

[darkmatilda]

𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: each of you—especially spencer—knew that the words let's split up never ended well. yet, they still escaped his lips, something he would regret for the rest of his days. now, held captive, you must decide whether to place your hope in being rescued by the team or to start a psychological game with the unsub and escape on your own.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x bau!female reader, kidnapping, psychological and physical torture, captivity, bloodletting, reader attempting to commit s (to end their suffering), split narrative, performing a ritual, mention of sexual abuse, everything being broadcasted live by the unsub, incestous relationship, sad but not tragic ending

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 14.8 k

𝐚/𝐧: i admit, there’s not much romance in this, and yep, probably the freakiest shit i've written so far. a slightly modified request from an anon—really hope you like it. i hate how i described this investigation. please overlook the absolute lack of logic at times (especially in the beginning) (in my defense i've never kidnapped anyone lol). oh, almost forgot, happy valentine's day (to those who celebrate) <

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

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/ˌmetəˈmɔːfəsɪs/ a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one

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You took a step back when your friend threw herself at you with a joyful squeal, wrapping her arms around your neck.

"Happy, happy birthday, my dearest!" Penelope exclaimed.

"My dearest?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow. A wide smile stretched across your face as you remained in her firm embrace, breathing in the pleasant scent of her sweet perfume. "Wait till Morgan hears that..."

"I heard," a deep voice sounded behind you. "But just for today, I'll let it slide. Happy birthday, kid."

Turning around, you spotted Morgan and Prentiss stepping out of the office elevator, each holding an identical cup of coffee. Both had smiles on their faces, and both pulled you into tight hugs while Garcia and Rossi were providing a cappella, completely off-key performance of Happy Birthday 

In seconds your hands were full—two gift bags and a box, and you hadn’t even managed to take off your coat yet. You thanked everyone with genuine warmth and gratitude but didn’t want to drag out the moment too long. It was still morning before work officially started, and you were already running later than usual. JJ had practically begged you to stop by first thing because your godson, Henry, simply couldn’t wait to give you his gift and wish you a happy birthday.

Either way, you had already been hugged by everyone—except…

“Come back in five minutes,” Hotch instructed the two of you, nodding at the rest of the team. “We need to get started on the case.”

And just like that, you and Reid were left alone—a surprisingly thoughtful decision from your boss. You were just friends, of course. Just like the rest of the team…okay, maybe a little closer than that.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, watching with a soft smile as Garcia’s massive gift nearly slipped from your grasp. True to his word, he carefully took it from you and placed it on your desk with the kind of caution usually reserved for handling evidence.

“Are you doing this because you’re an altruist,” you teased, “or because you’re afraid Pen would murder you if her present got damaged on your watch?”

“Why do you assume she’d only murder me?”

“Because I have a birthday,” you said matter-of-factly. “It’s weird to hurt someone on their birthday, don’t you think? Pretty sure even savoir vivre has something to say about that.”

Reid let out a short laugh, but whatever he was about to say next seemed to get caught in his throat. Under different circumstances, he probably would have kept talking, but time wasn’t on your side. In five minutes, you’d both have to return to a world filled with kidnappings, murders, and violence.

“So…” he started, briefly glancing down at his shoes before slowly reaching into the pocket of his blazer. “Oh—first and foremost, happy birthday. I know you’ve already heard that about a hundred times today, but…”

“But not from you.”

“Happy birthday,” he exhaled, almost nervously.

You frowned slightly, wondering why he seemed so worked up over this.

“Sorry, I just…I spent a lot of time trying to figure out if you’d like this gift, and I really wanted to see your reaction. So much so that I kind of forgot to actually say happy birthday.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “Anyway, I hope that…”

He stopped short at the look on your face.

For a moment, you just stared at what he was holding, lips slightly parted, completely silent. Then, slowly, a delighted smile spread across your face.

“You hope I’ll like it?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “Tickets to Heathers? Spence, of course I love it! You know how much I love musicals, and oh my god, I wanted to see this so badly…”

You opened your arms to hug him—but then hesitated.

You knew he was one of those people who tended to avoid physical contact, and his comfort had always been your priority. Even after all these years of friendship, you had only truly hugged a handful of times. And by truly, you meant something more than the brief, passing embraces that came with birthdays or other celebrations.

Spencer caught your gaze, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. But instead, he simply gave a small nod—and wrapped his arms around you. The corners of your lips lifted again—though, honestly, you weren’t sure they’d ever really dropped. Not that he could see it, not with your hands resting against the fabric of his sweater and his chin lightly hovering over your shoulder.

You let out a soft sigh as you pulled away, reluctant but aware that time was chasing you both. Besides, you had something to show him.

There was a quiet tension in the air as you slowly stepped back, just barely out of his arms. Spencer watched intently as you reached into your coat pocket.

“Henry gave me this this morning,” you said, handing him the homemade card your godson had made. A small, knowing smile tugged at Spencer’s lips even before he took it, his gaze dropping to the stick figure that was supposed to be you. “He said I’m his favorite aunt in the whole world,” you added, a playful lilt in your voice. “But I’m not supposed to tell Uncle Spence because it might make him sad.”

He placed a dramatic hand on his chest, his eyes flickering between the card and you, back and forth.

"That would have really hurt my feelings," he began, "if he hadn't told me the exact same thing on my birthday."

You burst into laughter. With a small nod, you gestured that you should head back to the rest of the team. Walking side by side, you made your way in the right direction.

"Should we tell JJ that there's a little liar growing up under her roof?" you asked along the way.

"Well, the lying phase is actually a natural stage of child development," he mused. "A lack of distinction between fantasy and reality, a desire to please adults—there are various reasons. So I think we can spare her that particular worry. At least he's empathetic."

You had already reached the door to the briefing room, but before either of you could grab the handle, Spencer stepped forward slightly, stopping you in your tracks. You looked at him, a bit surprised by the gesture.

"And by the way..." he began, his tone drastically different from the one you'd been using just moments ago. You saw him swallow, carefully choosing his words. "Are...are you okay? The case we're working on...it seems to be affecting you a lot. You have dark circles under your eyes."

You had the urge to scoff defensively and sarcastically thank him for the compliment. You probably would have with anyone else—but with him, you never felt the need to hide your worries. It was easier to admit to them. Easier, but not easy.

You took a deep breath, lowering your gaze as you nodded.

"I just really want to catch these people," you admitted quietly, truthfully. "It's been going on for too long. They've hurt too many girls..." You clenched your eyes shut, avoiding his gaze, which was filled with concern. You nodded toward the door in front of you. "Come on."

He watched you for a brief moment before sighing and stepping aside to let you go first.

Soon all of you were seated around the long table, noses buried in the case files. Penelope was briefing you on a new discovery related to the case you were working on—the one that, as Reid had noted, had been keeping you up at night. She kept her gaze averted from the image on the screen, never able to handle such sights well. And the body of a young woman, drained of every last drop of blood, was particularly disturbing.

"Just like in the previous cases, abandoned seven days after the abduction," she announced, clasping her hands at stomach level. "I’ve been tracking them—I mean, really staring at my screen for hours, even more than usual—but our twins haven’t streamed a single broadcast since then."

"We've entered the transition phase," Hotch said quietly, though his rough voice, as always, carried enough weight to reach even you and Reid, seated farthest from him. "Their ritual failed. They disposed of the body and now need time to prepare for the next one. Restocking supplies, medications, medical equipment."

"This is when we should strike," Prentiss said, leaning both elbows on the table. "They're out of their hideout, likely making transactions, meeting with suppliers. It's all illegal, of course, but the underground market, or at least part of it is under our surveillance…"

This case was difficult.

Usually, you followed a certain pattern. First, there was the crime. Then, piece by piece, you uncovered the missing fragments of a complex puzzle, eventually identifying the unsub. Or unsubs, as in this case. When dealing with an abduction, the final step was typically locating the victim’s holding site.

And that was exactly where you were stuck—on this fucking last step—for yet another week.

In the meantime, one of the unsubs had launched a career as a streamer, broadcasting their actions—at least fragments of them—on the dark web. The streams started at irregular hours, lasted for inconsistent amounts of time, and seemed almost spontaneous. He had to believe that he would attract psychos like himself and his sister—people who would be fascinated by the process.

As strange as it sounded, moving the crime online had actually filled you with a twisted sense of hope.

You thought it would make everything simple. Garcia would trace their location, or maybe, by watching the streams, you’d catch some clue that would lead you right to them.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

He only ever showed you that one room—a space resembling a hospital ward that could have been anywhere. It could have been hidden in the basement of any house in the country, inside some abandoned warehouse, on a remote farm miles away from civilization. Anywhere.

The only thing that had changed was that now you could see the victims' faces. You could watch the hope drain from their eyes as they realized no one was coming to save them.

And that thought drove you to madness.

How you even uncovered their identities and names was an even more complicated story. It all started with an offhand theory Reid had muttered under his breath—one that no one had paid much attention to at first, but which later escalated into the truth.

You had already known there were two unsubs. Their names were Lavinia and Leon Schuyler—thirty-three-year-old twins. Well, technically, triplets.

Piecing together fragments of their lives, you discovered they had another sister, Lydia. The three of them had spent their childhood deeply bonded, drifting from one dysfunctional foster home to another. Since the third sibling wasn’t involved in their crimes, you concluded she had recently died. That theory was reinforced by the fact that their victims all resembled her—and that during the streams, Leon addressed them by one name Lydia.

And, once again, through analysis, you realized what all of this was leading to.

The twins believed they could bring their sister back to life.

You had all of this. But until you had their location, it was as if you had nothing at all.

"Prentiss is right," Derek announced, his hand tightening around his coffee cup. "Our best chance is to track them now, while they’re searching for their next victim. Because we all agree there will be another, right?"

He wasn’t looking for confirmation—everyone knew cases like this didn’t just end.

Hotch nodded thoughtfully. "That’s our job for today," he began. "Not just today—we keep looking until we find them. We need to reach out to our informants, track down their supplier for drugs and medical equipment. And we need to pinpoint the location where the transaction might take place."

With a quiet sigh, you rubbed your forehead, fully aware that the next few hours would be pure informational chaos. But you were completely prepared to dive into it—anything to finally bring this case, the one that had been keeping you up at night, to an end.

In a perfect scenario, that would happen before another victim was taken.

♊︎

"Guess this isn’t how you planned to spend your birthday evening?" Reid asked.

With your hands resting on the steering wheel, you gave a small shrug. He might not have even seen the gesture in the dimly lit car, the empty road ahead reflecting the brief flashes of headlights cutting through the night.

"I wasn't in the mood to celebrate anyway," you admitted.

Under different circumstances, you might have let your teammates drag you to a bar or invited them over, picking up a cheap cake from the first bakery you passed on the way home. But from the moment you came across the information about a human blood sale taking place that night in an abandoned ruin—once a shopping mall—you all knew there would be no chance to catch your breath anytime soon.

You were almost certain that the twins would be one of the parties involved in the transaction.

At first, it filled you with doubt. Human blood? Why would they need to buy it when they were kidnapping all these women for that very purpose? Every body had been drained of it—whatever ritual they believed they were performing revolved entirely around blood.

"Maybe it's a form of experimentation," Reid had tried to explain a few hours earlier at the office, his furrowed gaze fixed on the board cluttered with all the data you'd been compiling. He paused, thinking. "Our unsubs are deeply delusional. They believe their actions will bring their sister back to life. So far, they've tried twice and failed. But instead of admitting that what they're doing is utterly irrational and illogical—because, of course, a blood transfusion into a dead body won't resurrect it—they'd rather blame the process itself, look for errors in their methods. Buying blood allows them to practice, to refine their approach without wasting what they truly desire—the blood of their victims."

"Actually, the fact that I'll finally get to see Heathers soon totally makes up for having to do... this on my birthday," you added after a moment of silence, gesturing toward your bulletproof vest.

Spencer didn’t respond—he was listening intently to Hotch’s voice coming through the car radio. A brief summary of what was unfolding at the ambush site.

You had your doubts about it, ones you kept to yourself. This was your best shot; you had to believe it would work. There hadn’t been enough time to prepare. You didn’t even have up-to-date blueprints of the place.

The abandoned building was in such a state of decay that most people driving past probably had no idea it had once been a shopping mall. The floor was coated in dust and shards of shattered storefront glass. Water from a leaking roof had seeped into the walls, leaving behind dark stains. Plastic tables from the long-defunct food court lay overturned and filthy. From what you’d managed to gather, a lot of people from the local underworld—mostly dealers—had passed through here at least once in their careers.

You didn’t feel that you were properly prepared, nor did you like your role in all of this. Your job was to circle the area in an unmarked car, providing backup in case your unsub somehow managed to slip away. That meant you had no direct view of the ambush and had to rely entirely on the descriptions and updates from your teammates. So far, though, no one had shown up.

"Hm, Spence?" you suddenly said into the space between you, a little uncertain. You kept your eyes on the road as you drove, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his head questioningly. You fell silent for a moment, trying to keep your tone casual. "I got two tickets from you…and, you know, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to, well…see it with me?"

You had no idea why you suddenly felt so tense. After all, you were friends, and friends went places together sometimes. Just the two of them.

"Are you sure?" Reid asked, making you shift in surprise. Was he going to say no? He quickly added, "I mean, I don’t want you to think I expected you to invite me just because I gave you the tickets…It’s a gift, and if you’d rather take someone else, a friend or…"

"I want to take you," you interrupted, shifting your gaze to him.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the glint of your eyes visible in the dark car. Spencer gave a small, gentle smile.

"She's here. Alone. We're waiting in position until she goes inside," Morgan's voice informed you.

You both straightened up, as if brought back down to earth. The sense of satisfaction, even excitement, that had grown within you after he agreed suddenly took a backseat. You remained silent, listening for further instructions. Sitting there in the car, you felt utterly useless. She’s here. Just Lavinia? What about her brother? Did she come alone? Had they suspected something was off and decided not to risk being caught together? Your breath caught in your chest for several long minutes, stretching into a quarter of an hour.

“Fuck” 

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Fuck! She got away. She was alone, and she still managed to slip through…there must be a hidden exit in the warehouse…”

Reid brought the radio to his lips.

“We’re nearby—we might be able to catch her. Did she come on foot? If so, her car could be parked somewhere close, maybe with her brother waiting. She’s probably heading straight there.” A faint crease formed between his brows, the mark of complete focus. “Garcia, you got me? Check the maps. Find anywhere they might have stopped…”

“How the fuck did she slip through?” you hissed under your breath, your heart hammering against your bulletproof vest.

You weren’t there—you had no right to judge. But for god’s sake, it was one woman against a trained FBI team!

“Guys, I think I’ve got something!” Penelope’s tense whisper crackled through the radio. “An abandoned parking lot, I’ll guide you there…”

You shoved your anger and confusion aside for the moment, yanking the wheel sharply as you turned toward the location Garcia had given. Cracks in the concrete had been overtaken by tufts of grass, something you noticed the moment you stepped out of the car, the door slamming shut behind you. It was nighttime, and darkness sprawled between the trees ahead, swallowing up what little visibility you had. The entire area was unlit, making it hard to see much—except for the single parked car standing out in the gloom.

You and Reid didn’t need to discuss your next move. A brief exchange of glances was enough—a silent reminder to stay cautious. Weapons drawn, you approached the vehicle from opposite sides, moving in sync without a word. You expected to see the face of the man you had been staring at endlessly over the past few days of the investigation. You hoped to find him in the driver’s seat, to yank him out with a firm pull, slam him against the hood, and cuff his wrists as his face met the cold metal.

But the car’s interior was empty.

“Damn it,” you muttered, lowering your gun. “Is this even their car? Maybe we came here for nothing…”

“Let’s find out,” Reid murmured, scanning the area cautiously before tugging on the surprisingly unlocked front door. His brows lifted—he seemed just as surprised as you.

You circled around the vehicle to join him on the same side, resting a hand on the open door as you watched him pull on a pair of gloves. He reached for the glove compartment, likely expecting to find some documents inside.

“Nothing,” he sighed after a long moment, disappointment lacing his voice.

He turned his face toward you, his tense jaw easing as he parted his lips to say something else. 

Then everything was drowned out by the sharp crack of gunfire. One shot. Then another. Bullets slammed into the hood of the car with a metallic clang.

It all happened too fast.

You spun around, your flashlight beam cutting through the darkness—and landing on her. Blonde hair wild around her face, cheeks flushed from a desperate sprint.

Her gun was raised. Her finger tight on the trigger.

And you.

Most of your body shielded behind the open car door.

Most of it.

But not your head.

Then—Reid’s hands gripping your waist. Yanking you down.

The bullet shattered the window, glass exploding around you. Instinctively, you both ducked, heads low as sharp fragments rained down.

Curled up together, arms tangled, you locked eyes—both of you breathing hard, lips parted in shock. It had only been seconds, but in his gaze, that raw flash of fear stretched endlessly.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his vest, gripping onto the solid warmth of his body as the world tilted. The ringing in your ears was deafening, the gunshot echoing in your skull, stretching time unbearably—like a warning of the next shot to come.

But it didn’t.

And when another second passed. Then another—

You moved.

Ignoring Reid’s sharp inhale, his hand reaching to hold you back, you pushed up onto your feet. The flashlight beam managed to catch Lavinia for a brief moment before she disappeared entirely into the stretch of trees between you. You couldn't let her escape and make it back to their hideout, the one you had been struggling to locate for so long.

Following her trail, you shot across the parking lot like an arrow. Reid was a fraction slower to react, but he wasn’t about to let you go after her alone. You could hear his footsteps behind you as you ran forward with determination, nearly tripping more than once over scattered rocks and branches along the forest path. You knew the flashlight was giving away your position, but you kept it on, scanning the surroundings for one of the unsubs.

It was as if she had vanished into thin air. As if the trees had swallowed her whole, even though the narrow, mostly overgrown path led only forward. You stopped, desperately looking around. You had no idea how far you had run, but your breath had become uneven, despite your excellent physical condition as an FBI agent.  You couldn't accept the fact that she had slipped away from you twice, that she would soon meet up with her brother and together start planning the abduction of another victim…

Reid's hands reached for yours to turn off the flashlight you were clutching. In one moment, his face was right in front of yours, perfectly lit with squinted eyes, and in the next, it disappeared. You could still sense his presence just in front of you, his heavy breathing when he spoke.

"We have to..." he started in a slightly hoarse, quiet voice.

"We have to catch her," you interrupted through clenched teeth. You pulled away, moving forward again, but then he grabbed your wrist tightly.

"This is pointless," he replied, to which you immediately snorted in response. You wanted to argue, but then his finger landed on your lips, stopping you from speaking. "It's pointless for both of us to chase her like this," he explained, finally calming his breath. "Give me the flashlight, I'll go on alone. You head back to the car and take the other route. The forest is small; she'll have to come out on the other side soon. And above all, notify the team about everything."

His hand pulled back only after he finished explaining the plan. At that point, you no longer had the desire to protest. Everything he said made sense, even though something deep inside you screamed that you shouldn’t split up. You ignored it and forced yourself to nod. You handed him your flashlight and, after a last exchange of glances, you jogged back.

“Spence,” you turned suddenly after taking only a couple of steps. He also looked at you, clearly surprised. “Be careful.”

 Reid nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured you. “Be careful too. We’ll meet up in a bit.”

It was only when you were running back to the car that you realized just how far your pursuit had gone. Anxiety clung to your back and didn’t let go, even as you emerged from between the gnarly trees. You gripped your gun tightly and tucked it back into your waistband as you sat behind the wheel of your car, not even pausing to catch your breath. Without hesitation, you leaned over to the radio, but before you could get a word out, something flashed in the corner of your eye.

You froze at the sight of the gun aimed at the driver’s side window.

You didn’t even fully turn to the side, you didn’t wait. You knew what was expected of you. With slow, almost rigid movements, you opened the door and stepped outside. You dragged out the process, analyzing the stance of the man, the second of your unsub suspects. He wasn’t a tall man, and after reviewing his history, you knew he had no significant experience with weapons or combat skills you had mastered long ago.

You almost smiled when you managed to use the element of surprise, grabbing his hand and redirecting the gun to the side. The shot rang out.

Leon Schuyler hissed with satisfaction, as if he had expected it all along. Then, before you could slam your knee into his groin, another sound escaped his lips. It was possible you had misheard it, but it sounded very much like a goodnight.

And after that, a sharp needle of a syringe pierced your neck with precision.

♊︎

It wasn’t until morning that Spencer began to grasp what had actually happened.

And even then, not fully. He felt as if he were blankly staring at the script of a play—one whose plot and themes filled him with such deep discomfort that he wanted nothing more than to leave the theater without so much as murmuring an apology to the people he passed. Yet at the same time, his entire body was nailed to that rough seat, his head immobilized, unable to look away. He wanted to run onto the stage and shout, enough, to put an end to it all—but he had no such power.

Who did?

The ambush for the twins had been set around midnight. About an hour later, they had both taken off after the fleeing woman. Then they had split up.

He didn’t remember much after that—not until five in the morning, when the entire team finally stopped scouring the area, clinging to the desperate hope that they might stumble upon the unsub by sheer accident. For the first time, Spencer felt so detached from the passage of time that even when he looked at his watch, the position of the hands made no real sense to him.

Hotch had announced that they needed to return to the office. To regroup. To think carefully about their next move.

They were the first to arrive—Spencer trailing behind Hotch more like a shadow than an actual participant in events. Others followed, one by one. Shaken. Furious. Devastated. But most of all, still bewildered, still unable to accept what had happened.

The sun had begun to rise, but even that seemed slower than usual, reluctant to banish the wretched darkness still clinging to these walls.

Spencer realized he was staring blankly out the window instead of using his so-called genius to find a solution. His mind felt empty, and the shame of it hit him like a physical blow, followed by something even more tangible.

A pair of hands shoved against his chest, forcing him backward.

“JJ…”

Derek was between them in an instant, stepping in to hold her back.

She froze, staring at her own hands as if surprised by what they had just done. Then she clenched them tightly across her chest, her gaze locked onto Spencer, raw and overflowing with emotion.

“How could you…how could you even suggest splitting up?” Her voice trembled, her head shaking in disbelief. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths. She had been the last to arrive, the one who stayed out searching the longest—desperate, frantic, chasing down any possible lead that could tell her where they had taken her best friend, the godmother of her son. “You know this never ends well, Spencer. You know that. You should have known that…”

"Enough" Emily appeared beside them, gently wrapping her arms around JJ’s shoulders.

JJ slumped, a single tear glistening in her eye for the first time.

"This isn’t helping," Emily said softly. "We need to focus on finding her as quickly as possible. They… they don’t kill their victims. Not right away. We still have a chance…"

"They don’t kill their victims," JJ repeated blankly, wiping her eye with a stiff movement. She didn’t look at any of them. "They just keep them locked up for days, drain their blood, and throw them away like garbage."

She took a breath.

"I need to see Penelope."

She tore herself from Emily’s grasp and walked away without looking back.

Her words lingered, filling the space, stretching the silence into something unbearable.

Spencer felt like he might throw up if he even tried to swallow

By accident, his gaze met Emily’s. Her brown eyes were surprisingly gentle.

He looked away.

Facing JJ’s fury had been easier—it was just a fraction of the hatred he felt toward himself. But he couldn’t stand any attempt to soften just how badly he had fucked up. He opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, before realizing just how meaningless it would be. What would his apology change? The only thing he could do at that moment was pull himself together and find her.

“I need to focus,” he said, his throat so dry the words barely made it out. He wanted to leave the room, to be back among the case files, to lose himself in analysis and overlapping thought patterns, to check everything—literally everything.

But then Penelope appeared in the doorway, the color drained completely from her face.

“Guys, you need to see this…” she choked out.

For a second, everyone froze—until, led by Spencer, they rushed toward her office.

"Just like in the previous cases, I can’t trace this transmission," Penelope explained frantically, nearly running beside him on her high heels. They burst into the dimly lit room full of screens, where JJ was already inside—motionless. She was biting her thumb, staring at one of the monitors in a trance. "They’re using satellite internet, masking the signal, and constantly jumping between servers..."

Behind them, Prentiss let out a strangled sound.

The whole thing was being streamed via a handheld camera, mostly fixed on one point—the face of their teammate. It seemed to be set down on something, maybe a table, because if someone were holding it, the frame would be shaking.

Hotch stepped in as close as possible, his eyes shutting for a brief moment. He was reliving it all over again. Once more, one of them had been taken, and the rest were forced to watch, helpless.

But if Tobias Hankel had left behind anything remotely useful, it was that they knew how to handle this.

Silently, painfully, they all gathered around Garcia, absorbing the footage—no, the live feed.

"Is recording this really fucking necessary?" a woman's voice snapped—it belonged to Lavinia.

Spencer's mind flickered with the image of her face—those empty green eyes staring down the barrel of a gun aimed directly at them. Her brow furrowed. She had no visible injuries on her face. She was lying on a stark white bed, the kind that looked like it belonged in a hospital, covered by an equally white blanket up to her waist. She wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest anymore—just a loose nightgown that ended at her elbows. Her eyes were half-lidded, blinking slowly—probably just waking up.

"We already talked about this. It is," her brother replied. "What are you doing?"

Lavinia stepped into the frame. They weren’t wearing masks, weren’t bothering to hide their identities—fully aware that law enforcement already knew their names.

One of her hands clamped down on the captive’s, pulling it toward her with little care before pricking the tip of one finger.

Confusion rippled through everyone watching. Spencer might have rushed to explain if not for the fact that he couldn’t force a single word out. He couldn’t even look away.

"I'm checking her blood type, what else?" she scoffed. "You kidnapped her without running it by me, and you should know that if this bitch has the wrong blood type, I’m not wasting our time on her."

"Pay attention to the way they speak to each other," Hotch started, bracing a hand against the desk. "There's tension—some kind of conflict…"

"Hotch," Spencer cut in, his eyes shut tightly. Nausea churned in his stomach. Keeping his eyes closed was the only way to stay on his feet.

Lavinia's words pounded against his skull on repeat. If this bitch has the wrong blood type, I’m not wasting our time on her.

"…That's a good thing. It means they're less coordinated, and it's more likely they'll make a mistake..."

"Hotch," he tried again.

This time, it was almost a plea.

"…We should—"

"She’s AB Rh+."

Hotch finally turned to look at him. So did the rest.

They froze—silent, motionless—not because they didn’t understand what it meant, but because they refused to accept it.

AB Rh+, a blood type that could only be transfused to someone with the same.

All the previous victims had type A blood.

I’m not wasting our time on her.

Prentiss sank into the nearest chair, as if her knees had simply given out beneath her.

So this was how it was going to end?

Before they could do anything to help her? Before he could even come up with a single idea on how to save her?

A single tear slipped down Penelope’s cheek. She didn’t even try to wipe it away.

“Let me check,” Leon, the male unsub, suddenly offered. “Go turn the heat up. Even I’m cold, and I’ve got a jacket on.”

His sister hesitated for a moment before she agreed.

Spencer finally opened his eyes—not to torture himself with the helplessness on his colleagues’ faces, but to force his gaze onto the screen. He fixed his eyes on her half-conscious face, searching for any sign of understanding. Did she get it? Had she already connected the dots?

Breathing started to hurt.

He wanted so badly to apologize. It wouldn’t fix anything, but maybe—maybe—it would dull the ache.

Him. Spencer Reid. And his stupid idea to split up.

He had sent her back to the car.

He had sent her to die.

That thought was dangerous, but maybe it was a good thing that the end was so close. That she wouldn’t have to endure days of suffering, uncertainty, and fear. He knew that feeling. He knew it all too well—praying for his own death when the pain became unbearable when fear and exhaustion drained the last of his strength. He didn’t want her to go through that.

He didn’t want her to go through any of this.

But that…that especially.

"And?" Lavinia returned to the room after a long moment.

"Well, what can I say? I’ve got a good eye," her brother said lightly. "O Rh-, a universal donor. We couldn’t have asked for a better match. You know what this means? That this time, we might finally succeed."

Everyone exchanged glances, utterly confused.

“Spencer…” JJ looked at him for the first time since their argument. “You said…you yourself said that she—”

“Because she is,” he interrupted. “He lied.”

Prentiss snapped her head up, a spark of hope flickering in her eyes. Spencer didn’t share her optimism. He did feel some relief, that much was true. But he was painfully aware that this wasn’t over. The nightmare was only beginning, and it was up to them to end it—before it was too late.

♊︎

You were afraid to be afraid. 

Absurd—you were well aware of that. But ever since you woke up in that hospital-like room, hooked up to an EEG and an IV, with a pulse oximeter clipped to your finger, your thoughts had focused solely on one thing. Not panicking. Calmness gave you a sense of control. Of course, you had none whatsoever—you were entirely at the mercy of two lunatics who believed they could bring someone back to life. But if they could be delusional, then so could you.

You knew this room from the recordings. For the longest time, you couldn’t determine where exactly it might be located. Was it a repurposed basement? A cabin in the middle of nowhere? Even now, being here in person, you couldn’t say for sure.

The moment you were left alone, you seized the opportunity to unhook yourself from all the machines and pressed your ear against the wall.

Once, your team had found a victim’s location by identifying the sound of a plane taking off in the background of a ransom call. You hoped for something similar to happen now. But you quickly realized the grey walls were lined with  soundproofing foam. The floor, covered in rubber, absorbed footsteps completely. You didn’t even hear anyone approaching until a flat palm struck you across the face so hard that you collapsed back onto the bed.

Lavinia was ridiculously strong.

“If you get up without permission again, I’ll cuff you to the damn bed,” she said, tossing a bottle of water onto the mattress beside you. “Drink. You’ll get food when you do something for me.” 

"As if I have anywhere to run," you muttered under your breath, reluctantly reaching for the water. "What do you want me to do? What time is it?"

Every time one of the twins visited you, you asked for the time. You needed to know how long you had been there. But with the constant doses of sedatives they were giving you, you couldn’t even estimate it.

Deep inside, you felt like it had been no more than a day.

The others had been kept for seven days before…

You shook your head. You couldn’t think about the others if you wanted to hold on to what was left of your sanity.

“Good night,” Lavinia muttered, messing with the IV drip.

“But you said I had to do something…” You frowned in confusion.

The blonde shrugged. She was wearing a green coat with fur on the hood. Both she and her brother always came to see you dressed warmly, even though the temperature in your little prison was relatively comfortable.

They had changed you into a thin nightgown that ended just above your knees and at your elbows, but curled up under the blanket, you were relatively warm.

That led you to one conclusion—wherever you were, the rest of the building wasn’t as well-heated. It was cold enough that they needed extra layers.

Whatever was in the IV worked.

You woke up on the floor. And freezing. Oh God, it was so cold. Your entire body immediately started shaking.

When you tried to push yourself up at your own sluggish pace, someone simply yanked you upright, like pulling a vegetable from the ground. You hissed in pain, instinctively trying to push the woman away, but all that did was earn you another hit.

Lavinia didn’t hold back.

The previous victims hadn’t been beaten this badly, so you assumed she particularly disliked the fact that her brother had chosen to kidnap you.

Leon, unlike her, didn’t hit you.

He just kept shoving the camera in your face.

Honestly, you preferred a busted lip and bruises over the fact that your team was seeing what was happening to you.

That awareness hurt a thousand times more than any torture ever could.

You managed to take a look around this new room before you were shoved toward the bed.

Unlike yours, it didn’t look like a mad doctor’s operating room but rather an ordinary, slightly old-fashioned bedroom. Dark wooden floors, a wardrobe with ornate handles in the corner, no windows—just like your room. Bottle-green walls.

Your gaze finally fell on the bed, and you barely managed to choke back a scream.

Suddenly, you understood why it was so unbearably cold in the room.

In front of you lay the body of a woman, her eyes closed, but her face was so unnaturally blue that you could never have believed she was merely sleeping. If not for the fact that she had been dead for—what you estimated to be—several weeks, she would have been identical to Lavinia.

Only after the initial shock of the sight wore off did her name come back to you.

Lydia.

The last of the triplets. The one who had died. The one they were trying to bring back with their…ritual.

As an FBI agent and profiler, you were accustomed to seeing dead bodies—but this one unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite rationalize.

Lavinia approached the corpse and smiled down at it with an affection so genuine, so reverent, that it sent a shiver down your spine. It was the kind of smile only mothers gave their children. Then, without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lydia’s cold, gray cheek.

The dead woman’s short blonde hair fanned out across the pillow like a halo. Her hands were folded neatly atop the blanket, eerily reminiscent of someone in prayer. You were shaking, and it probably wasn’t just because of the cold.

"From now on, you will take care of our sister twice a day," Lavinia began, opening the drawer of the bedside table. She took out a hair comb, a bottle of some liquid, and a silk cloth. "Brush her hair and wipe her body."

As she spoke, she demonstratively rolled up one of Lydia’s sleeves. She was dressed in a nightgown similar to yours, but with lace at the collar and long sleeves reaching down to her wrists. You couldn’t suppress a shudder at the sight of her exposed skin. You were trembling too much from the cold for Lavinia to notice.

Lydia’s veins were dark. The blood transfusions into her lifeless body had caused it to clot. Small lumps had formed where the blood had thickened, and her arms were covered in scars and puncture marks.

“W-why do I have to do this?” you asked, clenching your teeth to stop them from chattering.

Lavinia shrugged as she wiped her sister’s skin with the cloth.

“Someone has to take care of her,” she said. “By doing this, you’re building a bond with her. Here, try it. Just be gentle.”

For a moment, you just stared at her. You were now certain—absolutely certain—that both Lavinia and Leon had crossed the threshold of madness and were living in a world where logic held no place.

Her gaze hardened as she shoved the cloth into your hands. It almost slipped from your trembling fingers.

You looked down at the body and hesitantly wiped its surface…a violent gag reflex hit you so hard that you staggered.

You heard a contemptuous scoff.

“If you throw up on her, you have no idea what I’ll do to you,” she warned.

This was sick. Sick, sick, sick.

Your breath caught in your chest—you couldn’t look at Lydia, laid out in bed as if merely asleep. Taking care of her as if she were alive. But another warning glance and the flash of a weapon beneath Lavinia’s coat forced you to keep going. You started wiping down each of her limbs, one by one.

She was a small woman, barely any weight to her, and yet it felt like the task stretched into eternity.

Sick, sick, sick.

When you were done, a comb was shoved into your hand. Its teeth were wide-set, meant to avoid damaging the delicate hair of a corpse. Lavinia kept hissing softer through gritted teeth every few seconds.

Sick.

You forced yourself to set the comb down calmly instead of flinging it away like it burned you. Following instructions, you reached for Lydia’s hands, gently folding them back into the same position as before. As you did, your gaze lingered on her wrists for a long, drawn-out moment. The deep, jagged wounds. So that’s how she died? Suicide?

Lavinia stabbed you with a syringe.

♊︎

You lay in bed, your body still trembling.

You weren’t cold anymore, yet you curled up under the blanket. Just as Lavinia had warned, she forced you to do it again a few hours later. Taking care of Lydia’s body now dictated when morning came and when night fell. Not once had you fallen asleep on your own—there were always the drugs, injected mostly when they needed to move you to another room. You wondered why you couldn’t just walk there yourself.

Not that you would have been able to sleep anyway. You made sure not to close your eyes. When you did, your mind conjured sick visions—of the corpse lying right beside you, feeding off your blood, slowly consuming you the way mold devours fresh fruit.

You were afraid to be afraid, yet fear was beginning to take hold of you.

You were still searching for a way out of all this… You knew the team was looking for you too, doing everything they could, but you couldn’t just sit and wait. You had to find a way to gain some sort of advantage over the unsubs. There was no use trying with Lavinia, but Leon…

He was the weaker link in this duo.

He had lied about your blood type, which meant he wanted to keep you here.

You heard him enter the room. They usually took turns coming to see you, rarely together. His arrival was always preceded by the small wheeled table carrying all the electronic equipment and streaming cables. If only Garcia could trace it…

“How are you feeling?” Leon asked, sitting on the edge of your bed, keeping his distance, the camera aimed directly at your face. You tried to turn your head so the bruise under your eye—courtesy of his sister—was out of view. A poor attempt. Your lip was swollen too. “You look weak. My sister told me to bring you something to eat, but… you know, Lydia is smaller than you.”

You raised your eyebrows. So what, was he planning to starve you until you resembled his sister’s corpse? You didn’t even try to understand it anymore. It wasn’t worth the effort for your exhausted mind. You didn’t answer, unsure of what you even should say. But you wanted to keep the conversation going.

“Why…why are you even recording all of this?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing directly into the camera. It was impossible that the whole team was watching the stream. You hoped as few of them as possible were seeing you like this. Especially not Penelope—she wasn’t built for this. Not JJ, your best friend. And definitely not Spencer.

On second thought, you didn’t want any of them to be watching.

Leon cleared his throat.

“Well, we’re doing something incredible. People want to see it. They’re curious if we’ll succeed.”

You’re doing something sick. Freaks want to watch it. They’re fascinated by it, you corrected him in your head.

“So, I have fans?” You tried to sound playful, friendly.

Leon was surprised by the warmth in your voice. Pleasantly surprised. His pale face, green eyes brightened slightly.

“Yes. I guess you do,” he admitted. He almost seemed shy, as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. “Can I…can I talk to you? Maybe they’d like to know something about you. The previous ones…the previous ones didn’t really want to say much. Mostly, they just screamed.”

You used all your strength not to flinch.

“Sure,” you replied, forcing a soft smile. It was just a game, a mask. You tried to observe the conversation from the outside, detached, clear-headed—while pretending you didn’t hate him. “What do you want to know?”

He didn’t move closer, but he shifted slightly to make sure the camera captured as much of you as possible.

“I know you’re a fed,” he began. “I even looked you up. I know your name. How old you are. But nowhere did it say what you like. You know, what you do. In your free time.”

You hesitated for a moment. You were kidnapped. If it were someone else in your position, you’d tell them to be as human as possible—honest, even. Make your captor see you as a person with feelings, desires, dreams.

So you took a breath and tried to answer truthfully, even though it hurt.

“I love musicals,” you finally said.

You thought about the two tickets—Spencer’s gift.

It hurt unbelievably much.

You prayed he wasn’t watching. That he wouldn’t hear this.

You told Leon a little about the last musical you had seen. It had been a long time—your job left you no time for such things. You looked him straight in the eyes as you spoke, because the sheer disgust you felt toward him was the only thing keeping your tears from spilling over. You felt so fragile, talking about something you loved to a man who, in just a few days, planned to drain you of blood.

You didn’t want to die like this. You refused to.

“Do you want kids?” he asked suddenly.

The question was so unexpected that you didn’t even have time to think.

"I guess…I guess so," you said.

But your surprised mind quickly sharpened, pulling up information from their biography. You knew that the twins' mother had died in childbirth. You didn't know what was driving him to ask this question, but you preferred to be cautious.

"I mean, no. I don’t know, actually. Maybe. To continue the species."

Or to have a loving family, but of course, you weren’t about to say something so personal out loud.

Leon remained still for a moment, then suddenly laughed. You pretended to laugh along, but you couldn’t stop the sharp flinch when he suddenly moved closer, touching your cheek with his hand. He lowered the camera—it was now pointing at the floor.

"You're so funny," he said with strange tenderness. "Just like Lydia. She…she was the same way."

For the first time, he referred to her in the past tense instead of the present. Was he starting to realize that she was gone?

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Another question.

"No."

"Have you ever loved someone?"

"What…what really happened to Lydia?"

The team had never found that out. But you had seen the wounds on her wrists and figured it out yourself. Still, you wanted to hear what he had to say about it. Because by now, you were starting to suspect.

"She passed away because of an illness," he said shortly, enigmatically, cutting off any further questions. Then, he repeated himself. "Have you ever loved?"

"In what way? Romantically, like a sibling, like family…?"

"It doesn’t matter."

Your posture became more alert, analytical. Leon withdrew his hand from your face, but he didn’t point the camera back at you, as if he had forgotten he was even holding it.

"Of course, I’ve loved," you said quietly. "And I still do. And you loved Lydia, right?"

The man nodded, a certain longing filling his green eyes.

"It’s late," he announced after a moment of silence. "I should go."

But before he even moved to stand, he leaned in. His lips brushed the top of your head, hesitant. You fought the urge to push him away. You had to keep up the act, continue this game. Wrap him around your finger, so that the very thought of hurting you would terrify him.

"Goodnight, Lydia."

♊︎

A certain force kept him bound to that chair, watching each broadcast over and over again.

He believed that, eventually, he would spot some previously overlooked detail—one that would immediately allow him to pinpoint the location. But in part, he also wanted to punish himself. Because what could hurt more than watching the face of one of the most important women in his life grow paler and more bruised with each passing moment?

A woman he himself had condemned to this fate.

But he didn’t stay in the office for another night just to drown in his own guilt. He was capable of multitasking, so while the weight of it pressed down on him, he poured everything that came to mind onto paper.

He noted the exact moments the streams began, measured their precise duration, wrote down every single word spoken, and searched for any hidden meaning.

Maybe, somewhere in one of those conversations, she had hidden a message meant for their team—a clue to help them find her.

Three days had passed. Logically, it made sense to assume they were following the same pattern as in previous cases. And that meant nearly half of their time was already gone.

Spencer kept thinking about Leon’s cryptic words—that his sister had supposedly died of an illness. He wondered if that was true or if the twins had chosen to live in denial. Maybe it was easier for them to accept that fate, a cruel and indifferent universe, had taken her—rather than the possibility that she had done it to herself.

He rubbed his tired eyes and let out a heavy sigh when he realized he was getting nowhere.

Garcia had allowed him to stay in her office alone—something that, under any other circumstances, would have gotten him killed. She hated when anyone touched her keyboard.

But time was relentlessly moving forward, and they all had to sleep at some point. Usually, only one or two of them were assigned to monitoring the broadcasts at a time, while the rest focused on other search efforts. They worked nonstop.

They had already experienced a moment of sheer terror at the very start, forced to confront the brutal reality that she could die. And they were determined not to let that happen.

Especially Spencer.

Not just because he owed it to her. It wasn’t only about guilt—the fact that he had been the one to suggest they split up. Even if he had nothing to do with her current situation, he would still be glued to this chair in the dimly lit room, illuminated only by the glow of the screens, a single desk lamp, and the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

Because she was his friend. Because she was an inseparable part of his life.

Because she was someone he could say, without a doubt, that he loved.

Whether that love was purely platonic or something more didn’t matter right now.

The only thing that mattered was the silent promise in his mind—that he would make sure they watched that musical together.

Hundreds of them, if she wanted.

He drank surprisingly little coffee. What kept him on his feet and his mind sharp weren’t the stimulants but the occasional glances at the drawing Henry had made—a gift she had left in the office, intending to take it home after work. To pin it to her fridge with a cat-shaped magnet. Of course, Henry had no idea what had happened to the best aunt in the world. 

He drifted off in thought for a moment, only to be pulled back by movement on the screen.

The stream was starting.

Spencer immediately straightened in his seat, giving his cheek a light slap to wake himself up, to force himself into absolute focus.

Like every time, something clenched painfully in his chest.

He barely recognized her, even though the light in her room was on.

Several details hit him all at once.

First, the wound on her cheek—one that hadn’t been there before. Second, her hair. It had been cut to the exact same length Lydia’s had been in the photos he’d seen of her. The association filled his mind in an instant, vivid and unshakable. Third… the bandages wrapped around her wrists. Both of them. His hand shot toward his phone to alert the team, to wake everyone up. Or maybe someone else had already done it—he wasn’t entirely present in his own body.

But before he could move, before he could do anything at all, his breath caught in his throat. A thought began to scroll across his mind like a news ticker.

Metamorphosis had already begun.

♊︎

When Leon cut your hair, you took advantage of his momentary distraction—his mind entirely consumed by memories of his sister—and stole the scissors, slipping them under your pillow.

You wished you could say it was part of some greater plan. But in reality, you were exhausted, your strength fading more and more—not just physically, but mentally too. If your calculations were right, at least three days had passed. Twice a day, they drugged you and moved you to a room so cold that you lost all feeling in your limbs for hours, forced to care for a dead body. Staring into Lydia’s empty eyes, at the bluish veins beneath her lifeless skin, you couldn’t stop imagining yourself the same way—discarded by the roadside, drained of every last drop of blood.

You didn’t want to go like that. You wanted to go on your own terms.

You seized your chance that evening, when they left you alone without sedatives. You hesitated. But what if the team had finally tracked you down? What if they were already on their way? Wait or don’t wait? They would understand. You knew that. You were relieved that the camera hadn’t been on you 24/7. You had at least spared them from witnessing this, the desperation and terror slipping from your wrists along with your blood.

It was Leon who found you. He collapsed to his knees beside you, consumed by sheer panic, screaming Lydia’s name over and over, begging her not to leave him again. His cries alerted Lavinia. You had hoped that despite her medical experience as a nurse, she wouldn’t reach you in time.

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting their faces to be the last thing you saw before death. With the last remnants of your strength, you struggled against their grasp as they tried to lift you from the floor.

Then, everything faded away.

"Leon, this is a waste of time."

The blurred words drifted into your consciousness, floating there like debris on the surface of water. You observed them with closed eyelids, seeing nothing, feeling little, barely understanding anything.

"She…maybe we should just get rid of her. Find a new one."

"We can’t," her brother responded firmly. You had never heard him speak in such a commanding tone before. "We can’t take that risk. They’re on our tail. Police…FBI. If we try again…this is our last chance. She is our last chance, and this time, it will work. I can feel it"

He paused.

"She’s just like Lydia."

His twin remained silent for a moment before letting out a weary, resigned sigh.

"I guess you're right," she finally replied. "I'll go refill the boat's fuel. Keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. And when she wakes up, take her to Lydia. They need to…they need to bond. A stronger bond. Right now, she's too weak."

"Be careful," her brother warned her gently.

You opened your eyes only after Lavinia left the room. The light stabbed at them painfully. For a moment, the helplessness consuming you was utterly devastating. You wanted to scream, to wail—it took everything in you not to beg the man to put you to sleep again. If even death couldn’t save you from this fate, then what could? 

Leon didn’t say a word to you. After a while, he simply helped you up, touching your body as if it were made of fragile porcelain, then guided you into the hallway, offering light support. You were weak, horribly weak, but the moment you left your room, a flicker of strength began to return.

For the first time, they allowed you to walk to Lydia on your own instead of carrying you there unconscious. That gave you a chance to take in your surroundings more clearly. You were so surprised by this newfound freedom that, for a moment, you forgot how unsteady your legs were.

You stepped into what seemed like a corridor. Instead of soundproof foam, the walls were lined with metal, rust creeping along some of the panels. The air carried a certain chill—not the biting cold of Lydia’s room, but something more natural, like a draft seeping through an imperfect structure. And then there was another sound, layered beneath the whisper of wind slipping through the cracks—a faint, steady noise.

Rushing water.

Leon kept leading you forward. You crossed a threshold, and that was when you saw it—an old window at the end of the corridor. Something inside you surged forward, an instinctual pull. You wanted—needed—to press yourself against the glass, to look outside, to at least see where you were. The unfamiliar sounds and the stark change in environment stirred something deep within you.

The will to survive.

You thought it had died back there, on the floor, when you miraculously lived. But it hadn’t. It had only been waiting.

Leon pulled you along more forcefully. For the first time, you thought about hurting him. He wasn’t as strong as his sister—if you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck at just the right angle…You were alone there, Lavnia had gone… You tried to recall her blurred words. Refill the fuel in the boat? A boat? So your intuition had been right—you were somewhere on the water.

You had done this so many times that he didn’t need to hand you the cloth or the comb; you already knew where to find them. As you opened the drawer, you could feel Leon’s gaze on your back. You moved slowly, hoping to find something sharp. Anything. Even the comb would do…

You turned around and saw Leon sitting on the table by the bed, his forehead resting on his sister’s lifeless hands.

A perfect opportunity. Perfect circumstances. He was distracted, not paying attention to you.

Unfortunately, you weren’t fully focused either. His sobbing…

"My beautiful Lydia," he wept softly into his sister’s body, burying his face in it as if hoping she would embrace him, stroke his head. "My dear Lydia. I loved her, you know. I love her."

You didn’t move, clutching the comb in your hands. You barely felt the cold, even though your body registered it perfectly, making you shiver. And although rage filled you—a wild, feral madness—you wanted to lunge at him. Yet somehow, you found a sense of calm, a sliver of reason.

You remembered your previous strategy. Leon, the weakest link.

Leaning in, you gently ran your fingers through his blond hair.

“I love you too,” you replied with difficulty.

The man stopped sobbing, remaining still for a moment. With a slow inhale, he straightened up, his wide-open eyes locking onto your face. A slight shiver ran down your spine.

It was possible that you had just made the worst mistake imaginable.

But there was no turning back now. You held his gaze, refusing to look away. You couldn’t tell what emotions were flickering behind his stare. Was it shock? Suddenly, he stood up abruptly. Instinctively, you flinched, raising your hands to shield yourself, bracing for the kind of blow his twin sister had delivered so many times before.

But it never came.

Instead, without a word, he simply turned on his heel and left. He didn’t call for you to follow. He didn’t say anything at all.  For a moment, you stood motionless before slowly setting the comb back onto the table. Your feet barely lifted off the ground as you moved toward the door, only to freeze once you reached it. Seconds passed. Then minutes.

You pushed it. And it opened.

A strange wave rolled through your chest.You were alone at the threshold of an open door. Alone on your own feet, not tethered to anything that could put you to sleep at a moment’s notice. You didn’t think long.

You ran.

The world spun violently from the sudden movement, your weak body barely managing to stop in time to avoid crashing into the window. Your heart pounded furiously, drowning out your thoughts.

You would regret it. In fact, you already did a second later.

Your gaze had barely locked onto the space outside the window when strong arms seized your clothes, yanking you back and slamming you to the ground. You landed hard on your elbow, too disoriented to even feel the pain. Lavinia stood over you, clad in a jacket, her hands clenched into fists. But before she could take a step toward you, her brother moved between you, shaking his head.

"Don't hurt her," he pleaded.

He reached out to touch her, but she slapped his hand away, redirecting her fury toward him instead.

"Don't hurt her?" she echoed mockingly. "And how else is she supposed to learn that she can't just go running off? Why did you even let her?"

"Sorry, it's my fault. I forgot to lock the door," he said.

You didn’t even care whether he was telling the truth. Your mind was spinning too much, especially as you tried to push yourself up.

"But she's our sister, and you can't keep hitting her."

At those words, both you and Lavinia froze.

You looked at her face—pure shock, trembling lips. You were surprised too, but… the corners of your mouth twitched. You masked it quickly, pretending there wasn’t even a trace of satisfaction in you. That your plan wasn’t starting to fall into place.

“Get her out of my sight,” Lavinia said coldly, her voice devoid of emotion.

You watched as Leon slowly stepped toward you, helping you to your feet. As he led you back to your room, you caught a glimpse of Lavinia hiding her face in her hands. You stayed silent for a long time, watching him carefully. It hit you—this was the first time you were with him when he didn’t have his camera.

Slowly, you sat down on the bed, waiting to see if he would sit next to you. And he did.

You swallowed. You couldn’t let yourself feel too confident yet—you still had to be careful, still had to watch every step you took.

“You defended me,” you noted gently.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked just as bewildered as you felt. You hoped he wasn’t starting to regret calling you that. You hoped his own delusions were wreaking havoc in his mind—to your advantage.

“Thank you,” you added.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. He straightened up, turning his head toward you. There was a strange devotion in his green eyes. “You’re my sister. Of course, I have to protect you.”

You nodded gently.

"I am your sister," you repeated clearly, locking eyes with him, willing these words to sink deep into his very core. "I am already your sister, Leon. Lydia. But… our other sister wants to hurt me."

As you spoke, you reached out your bandaged hand, lightly touching his arm. He stiffened under your touch, staring at you with growing astonishment. In fact, he looked almost in awe. As if you had just descended from the heavens. You took that as a good sign.

"You know what she wants to do to me. To drain my blood. How many days do I have left?"

His breathing grew heavier.

"Tomorrow," he answered. "Tomorrow at midnight."

"Tomorrow…" you trailed off, shaking your head. You forced panic to take hold of you. You must have been unconscious longer than you'd thought. "But I am already her. Can't you see?" You ran your fingers through your hair, smiling brightly. "We’re together again. We love each other again. And she wants to tear us apart."

You saw hesitation creeping onto his face, the subtle furrow of his brow betraying his uncertainty. You had forgotten—Lavinia was his sister too. He loved her as well. Turning him against her wouldn’t be that simple.

Swallowing your nerves, you spoke again.

"We have to convince her that I have truly become Lydia. But for that to happen…you know, there’s something still holding me back. An anchor. Two anchors, actually. They keep me from letting go of who I used to be."

He gazed at you with growing intrigue. A metaphor like that had to be especially stimulating for his deranged mind.

"What are these anchors?" he asked, a readiness in his voice, as if he was already prepared to rid you of them.

"One of them," you began slowly, carefully choosing your words—mostly because you hadn't fully thought this through yet. "One of them is…I need to say goodbye. One last farewell that will sever all ties to my previous life. I wish I could let go without it, but…Leon, I’m afraid it’s necessary. It’s holding me back against my will."

You could see him absorbing everything you were saying.

"Say goodbye…to whom?"

There were many names you could have given him. But you chose the one that would strike straight at his orphaned heart.

"To Mom. I don’t need to see her. Just…just a short phone call would be enough."

The silence between you was so heavy, you genuinely feared he might hear your heartbeat. And it was raging in your chest, pounding so fiercely that your limbs trembled. You waited. Everything depended on his answer.

Leon averted his gaze, staring blankly into the distance. You prayed you had reached him. That his desire to have Lydia back was strong enough.

"Tomorrow, I will bring you a phone. One that can't be traced," he finally said.

Okay, that was not part of the plan.

"But tomorrow, Lavinia will…"

"She won't," he cut you off. "I won’t let her… We’ll get rid of the anchor, and she’ll understand that you’re already here."

You could have argued, but you were too afraid of accidentally undoing everything you had achieved so far. So, you agreed. Even an untraceable call was better than nothing. Especially since, in that brief moment you had stood by the window, an idea had begun to form in your mind.

Leaning in, you pressed a grateful kiss to Leon’s cheek. He allowed himself a brief smile.

"And what is the second anchor?"

You told him.

♊︎

When you woke up, you knew it was morning.

Lavinia had dragged you to Lydia’s room the old way—while you were unconscious. At the same time, she had announced that this was the last time and that you had better start getting it right. So, you wiped the woman’s body with as much care as possible. For the first time, you were able to look directly into her eyes.

This was going to end soon.

She would finally end up in a grave, those two would be in prison, and you…

You tried not to fantasize too much. You had to stay focused.

You slowly combed through Lydia’s short hair. Time passed, but Lavinia did not return. You had grown somewhat accustomed to the fridge-like cold, but you had never stayed here longer than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. You waited for someone to come, but when the chill became unbearable, you approached the door and started pounding on it. Your frozen hands didn’t even register the pain.

"I’m still here!" you shouted.

Had they forgotten about you?

"And that’s where you’ll stay," Lavinia’s voice answered from the other side.

You frowned, hugging your trembling body.

"You’ll stay there until the ritual. I’ll come for you before midnight."

"But it’s morning!" you screamed.

No response.

You slammed your fists against the door again. Harder. Again and again, until blood coated your knuckles and your lungs burned from breathing in the freezing air. One moment, you had everything—a plan to keep yourself alive. The next, you doubted you’d survive the next few hours in this cold.

Had the previous victims gone through the same? Or were you the exception because Lavinia wanted to make sure you never made it out?

You paced around the room, hoping that movement would warm you up. Meanwhile, thoughts of hypothermia and its fatal consequences circled in your mind. You wavered between determination to survive and pure despair, convinced that you wouldn’t make it. You had no idea how many minutes had passed before your gaze landed on the wardrobe that had been standing in the corner of the room the entire time.

With almost blissful relief, you layered on piece after piece of clothing found inside. You knew you would make it until nightfall. 

What came next remained uncertain.

♊︎

Leon found you curled up inside the wardrobe, so accustomed to trembling that it felt like a natural state for your body.

“Come on, we have to hurry,” he said, offering his hand to help you out.

You clung to him tightly, as your legs refused to support you.

“What…where…Lavinia…the phone…” you mumbled, your frozen body unable to form coherent sentences.

“I have the phone, but we need to move fast. I got here just before her to give it to you. Come on.”

He led you out of the room. You turned your head toward Lydia lying on the bed, wondering if this was the last time you would see her.

When you were back in your own room, you wrapped yourself tightly in the blanket, leaving only your head and hand exposed—the hand in which Leon pressed the phone. Your body slowly began returning to its optimal temperature. You couldn’t believe this was really happening.

Leon crossed his arms over his chest. He had no intention of leaving you alone with the phone—he was going to listen to the call. But you were prepared for that possibility.

Instead of frantically dialing, you looked at him. He didn’t have his camera with him.

“Don’t you want to show… this moment to your fans?” Your voice still trembled slightly, your tongue struggling to cooperate. He frowned, not seeming to understand what you meant. You had always avoided the camera before. “Well, you k-know…the final moment before my complete metamorphosis. They’ve followed you for so long…I’d think they…they’d want to see it.”

"You're right. Absolutely right. Wait here."

Not that you had anywhere to go.

He returned, as always, pushing his small table along and clutching his camera in his hand. His fingers trembled slightly. Acting behind his sister’s back must have been stressing him out, but his desire to get Lydia back was too strong. At that moment, you were certain he would do whatever you told him to. With stiff fingers, you dialed the number twice before getting it right. You were calling your mother to say goodbye. That was the official version.

There weren’t many numbers you knew by heart, but Spencer’s was one of them.

Under Leon's watchful eye, you pressed the phone tightly against your ear to make sure he wouldn't hear a male voice—one that was definitely not maternal. The camera was aimed straight at your face, and you stared into it without blinking, as if challenging it to a contest of who would break first.

If the team wasn’t watching this, you might as well smash the phone against the floor.

"Hi, Mom," you said the moment the call connected.

You didn’t breathe. The fear of ruining everything made your throat tighten, and you swallowed hard against the lump. For a moment, there was only silence on the other end.

You didn’t look away from the camera, your senses sharpening from the sheer intensity of your focus. The adrenaline burning through you kept you warm.

Still, no response.

"Hi, sweetheart," a woman’s voice finally said—JJ’s voice.

Tears stung at your eyes, and you worried they would give you away in front of Leon. You made a mistake while blinking and you bit down hard on your tongue as punishment.

JJ was pretending to be your mother.

"I don't have much time, Mom," you began. "I'm just calling... just to ask how you're doing. Is everything okay?"

"Garcia, can you trace where this call is coming from?"

Spencer’s voice.

Another mistake.

Your next breath felt like choking, and you had to steady yourself. You needed to do one more thing—just in case this didn’t work.

"That's great," you threw in a random half-sentence to make the conversation sound real for Leon. "Uh-huh...I'm glad everything's fine. Yes, I'm okay too, don’t worry"

You fell silent for a second, too long. Leon raised an eyebrow. You were supposed to be saying goodbye.

"I...I...Mom, do you remember my favorite mug? The one you accidentally broke last time?"

You swallowed hard, never breaking eye contact with the camera. You couldn't come up with any other cover story besides the mug, so it had to be enough.

"I...I kinda yelled at you back then. Sorry. It was my favorite, but now I...I know it wasn’t your fault."

Your voice grew weaker as you spoke.

Don't cry, you warned yourself.

"It wasn’t your fault, Mom. Not your fault, S—Mom."

Terrified, you glanced at Leon, hoping he hadn't caught it. But he only waved his hand impatiently, urging you to hurry.

You swallowed hard, and before anyone on the team could say anything else, you spoke your final words.

"I love you. Goodbye."

Then you hung up.

For a moment, you stared at each other without moving, until he turned off the camera and you handed the phone back to him. Hearing their voices—possibly for the last time—tightened something in your chest, a pressure you struggled to release.

"Thank you, brother," you said softly. You nodded slightly, grounding yourself, pulling yourself back to the plan. You had to act, to keep moving before Lavinia returned. "You know what we have to do now, right?"

Leon nodded.

♊︎

“What was that about the mug?” Prentiss asked as the call ended.

JJ closed her eyes for a long moment. The rest of the team, gathered around the computer where the stream had played just moments ago, looked utterly confused.

“You think she was trying to send a message? A hidden clue?”

“Garcia, can you play it from the beginning?” Spencer cut in, leaning toward the screen.

The first time he watched it, emotions had taken control, clouding his focus. He had been stupid, so incredibly stupid. Most of his attention had latched onto the repeated words it’s not your fault which only deepened the devastation in his mind. But a small part of him had registered the way her eyes moved.

“Sure, just a sec…” Penelope’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and soon the footage played again.

“Do you understand what she was trying to say?” Rossi asked.

Spencer shook his head. A rush of adrenaline, almost intoxicating, coursed through him.

“She didn’t hide a message in her words,” he explained, straightening up. His gaze darted around Garcia’s desk, searching for something to write with. He grabbed a notebook with a pink, glittery cover and a pencil topped with a fluffy pom-pom. “Look at the way she’s blinking. It’s Morse code.”

Everyone fixed their eyes on the screen, trying to see it for themselves.

Everyone except JJ.

She was looking at Spencer, no trace of anger in her expression—just hope.

Reid wrote down the message she had sent.

Oil rig.

♊︎

The cold was almost liberating.

You stood with Leon at the edge of the oil rig. Ever since you managed to reach the window, you'd been trying to figure out where they had kept you. The realization had come to you slowly. The sound of water surrounded you both, and the wind played with your freshly cut hair. It felt so good that, for a brief moment, you closed your eyes.

But only for a moment.

You couldn't celebrate victory when you hadn't won yet.

Your gaze shifted to the man beside you, then to Lydia’s body, wrapped in a bedsheet and lying just a few steps away. This was the last anchor—the one you had convinced him needed to go.

Lavinia would be back any second. It had to happen now.

Of course, it was never really about anchors. The whole story about your mother had been nothing more than a way to send a message—one you hoped your team had understood and was already acting on. And the one about Lydia? That was just to bring Leon to the edge of the oil rig. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said, nodding slightly and exhaling as his eyes lingered on his sister’s body.

You pushed him.

When you planned this, you hadn’t accounted for how weak you would be.

Leon staggered, yes—but he didn’t disappear beneath the waves. Instead, his hand caught the thin fabric of your nightgown, and with a short, startled yell, he yanked you both down onto the floor. 

You groaned as your body slammed against the hard surface.

“You… bitch,” he said, almost in despair, realizing you had been lying to him all along.

You kicked him in the face with your bare foot and pushed yourself up onto your elbows. He let out a sharp gasp of pain—you heard the crunch of his nose breaking—and for a fleeting second, you thought you were on the fast track to escape.

But then his hand clamped around your ankle, yanking you down again.

You let out a frustrated sound as his knee pinned you to the ground. You struggled to shove him off. He wasn’t like Lavinia, but he also wasn’t as weak as a starved woman who had spent nearly an entire day in a freezer.

Right. He wasn’t like her.

He was fucked up, but not enough. Not enough madness in him.

Your nails clawed blindly at his skin while your other hand fumbled against the surface, searching for anything. You felt like you could kill him with a feather if you had to. But you found something far more practical than a feather. 

A brick.

Leon collapsed when it struck his temple. But that wasn’t enough. With a pained breath, you pushed yourself up over him and swung again. You kept swinging, not caring that your fingers were sticky with blood and the brick was beginning to slip from your grip. You kept striking longer than necessary.

Leon had been dead for a while.

You threw the brick aside, gasping for air. Everything felt so unreal, so distant. For a moment, you closed your eyes, still kneeling over his motionless body. When you opened them, ready to face the sight before you, your gaze accidentally met someone else's.

Lavinia stood a few steps away, disbelief and slowly growing fury in her eyes.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, neither of you fully grasping what had just happened.

Then it hit her—you had killed her brother.

And it hit you—that you were absolutely screwed.

Well, that thought only truly settled in once she tackled you to the ground. Punch after punch rained down on your face, so relentless that you couldn’t think, couldn’t come up with an escape plan. Was there even one? Your hands fell limply to your sides, no longer attempting to fight back. The ends of her blonde hair mixed with yours, strands stained red from the blood streaming down your face.

When she stopped, for a brief moment, you thought you were dead.

You had always imagined death as a very quiet experience. Peaceful.

But instead, you could hear her ragged, frantic breathing, a sound almost like a sob, and barely intelligible words cutting through the air.

"I’ll finish this."

During your entire time in that place, she had always moved you from one location to another by knocking you out with sedatives first. But this time, it wasn’t necessary. Your body was so battered that all she had to do was grab you by the leg and drag you along, not caring that your skin scraped against the rough surface.

When your vision finally sharpened and you realized you were back in that same cursed room where it had all begun, for a moment, you thought the recent events had been nothing more than a dream.

But then—

One glance at your bloodstained hands.

One glance to the side, at the neighboring bed and the lifeless body of Lydia resting upon it.

One glance at the IV lines piercing the crooks of your elbows, the slow, steady flow of liquid passing through them.

Your blood.

The only thing that brought you solace was the slowly creeping realization that, at the very least, you had managed to say goodbye to those closest to you. They had seen your face, the raw pain and love in your eyes as you whispered your final goodbye. At least you had assured Spencer that none of this was his fault. You could only hope that, in time, he would start to believe it. At least partially.

You had long drifted off when the door to the room burst open with a bang. 

♊︎

She was saved by the fact that she was a universal recipient.

Still, by the time they found her—after Garcia had finally tracked down the illegally sold oil rig through a bankrupt extraction company—she was already weak. Very weak. So much so that the following hours were filled with even greater fear than the past few days.

She couldn’t slip away from them now that she had been rescued. Or rather, now that she had rescued herself. Spencer had no intention of taking credit—nor letting anyone else take credit—for her brilliant moves and meticulous plan.

He sat in the hospital corridor, while JJ rested her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. Her leg trembled, and with it, her entire body. Emily held her other hand tightly.

"Spence," she finally said. Her gaze had been fixed on the floor, and it took effort to lift it to him. But it was necessary for what she was about to say. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. For how I reacted, for how I treated you these past few days."

He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he just gave a small nod.

“She’s your friend. It’s normal that—”

“She’s your friend too. Ours. We should have been supporting each other this whole time instead of yelling at one another.”

“You were the one yelling.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. JJ opened her mouth but said nothing.He hadn’t meant to throw it in her face—he didn’t even feel angry. Back then, he had only cared about one thing. One person. But before he could add, retract, or clarify his words, a nurse approached them, informing them that someone could go inside. The entire team stirred in their seats, but only two people were allowed in at a time.

Spencer sat back down, nodding toward JJ and Emily.

Emily raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Reid. Of course, it has to be you.”

Although he had been ready to step aside, a faint, grateful smile crossed his lips.

He followed JJ into the hospital room, his steps slowing as they approached her bed. Unpleasant flashbacks flooded his mind—seeing her like this on a screen, the helplessness that had gripped him then. It took him a moment to shake off the feeling, to ground himself in the realization that he was here now. That she was right in front of him.

A sudden chill of panic ran down his spine. What was he supposed to say to her? Was he even capable of opening his mouth without turning into a pathetic, guilt-ridden mess, mumbling endless apologies and self-deprecating confessions? JJ spoke first, sparing him from his spiraling thoughts. She started with something simple—a quiet whisper of her name.

She said it again, and slowly, her eyelids fluttered open. Spencer felt something tighten in his chest. A relief so immense it almost hurt.

She murmured something weakly.

Both he and JJ stepped closer, and this time, he was the one to say her name.

“Don’t call me that,” she rasped. Her eyes shut again, and she turned her head to the side, as if refusing to look at them. Shutting them out. “That’s not my name,” she whispered.

“I’m Lydia.”

post-reading author’s note:

if you survived reading such a long fic—CONGRATULATIONS and THANK YOU and also im SORRY. i know there wasn’t much reid not much of the team and honestly it had very little to do with canon—it was mostly just a product of my imagination. i hope you’re not disappointed.

if any topic in this fic triggered you, i apologize. i tried to include everything in the tw but i might have missed something.

[siriuslylantsov]

birthday kiss

pairing: roomate!spencer reid x reader

description: its readers birthday!

tags: fluffy fluff, first kiss, gn!reader, expensive watch but its okay because papa pasta paid for it, idk bro there are no warnings this is just cute.

a/n: more roomate spencer because i am a sucker for close proximity. this is the watch for reference (i rlly want it, let me live) and im choosing to be ignorant about spencers financial sitch, but in this its a tad too expensive for him. watched gilmore girls before writing this and had the overwhelming urge to write (somewhat) snappy dialogue. happy reading!

wc: 882

“make a wish.”

spencer holds out the cupcake with a single candle on it infront of your face. you blow out cold air extinguishing the frame with your eyes closed. 

“what’d you wish for?” you.

“i can't tell you, it won't come true.”

the two of you are sitting on the couch, facing each other. it's midnight, which means it's officially your birthday. spencer picked up a cupcake on the way home from work, it was red velvet with assorted coloured sprinkles, very festive. you split the cupcake with him, laughing when he inevitably gets frosting on his nose, swiping it off with your thumb. 

“so i got you something,” he starts as stands up to go get it.

“oh?”

“yeah,” he hands you a neatly wrapped box, sitting back down next to you, a little closer this time to  gauge your reaction. you peel away the paper and a red leather box reveals itself, and in small print; cartier.

“spencer, this isn't funny,” you look up at him, eyes wide.

“open it,” he urges.

you open the box, and your breath hitches. the most beautiful silver watch sits inside it��one you've had your eye on for months.

“this isn't funny,” you repeat, looking at the watch in disbelief. 

he swipes the box, taking the watch out and putting it on you, seeing as how you're frozen. he holds your wrist gently, admiring the piece he got you. he can't help but lift your wrist up and press a kiss to the soft skin, letting his lips linger there for a moment before putting it down.

his tenderness makes you frown. you look down and let out a slightly incredulous scoff. “i can't believe you…” you trail off before returning your glance to him, “how did you afford this?”

“i've got money.”

“i know you do. but you're also splitting the rent with me so that has to put up some spending limitations.”

“ok fair enough,” he surrenders, “rossi hooked me up, and by hooked me up, i mean he paid for most of it.”

you smile, a bright beautiful smile that loves. “that sly fox,” you chuckle, “remind me to kiss him next time i see him.”

“he gets a kiss and i don't?” he fake pouts.

“no, you get a kiss,” you lean over and lightly peck his cheek, you stay close. your lips are still curled up but this time it's a giddy grin.

you have an idea.

“i got something for you too.”

“it's not my birthday, why would you get me something?”

“it just came up,” you shrug.

“okay…” his uselessly veiled scepticism is very obvious.

“close your eyes.”

he does and a small crease forms between his eyebrows in confusion when you don't get up, he can feel the way the cushions dip as you shift in your seat, you're moving closer? why haven't you left to go get it yet? maybe it's in your pocket? maybe-

all rational thought vanishes from his mind when he feels your lips on his, soft. your hand is on his cheek as you kiss him. it's gentle and hesitant and he feels as though he might explode. careful not to make you think he doesn't reciprocate, spencer kisses you back, with a touch of desperation. you hum quietly into the kiss and pull back, resting your forehead on his.

“thank you,” you whisper, the soft puffs of your breath can be felt on his face and he relishes in the proximity.

he laughs, low and behind closed lips. “you're welcome. if i had known that getting you a watch would have earned me a kiss, i would've done it a lot sooner.”

“don't get too excited, dave gets one too.”

he shakes his head with a scoff, forehead still pressed against yours.

“thats what i wished for by the way.”

he leans his head back to look at you, “us kissing?”

“mhm, something like that.” you wished for a lot more than kissing but for now this was perfect.

“well, you know what they say…”

“what?” you inquire, amused.

“if the wish is granted within five minutes of the wish making, you're allowed a second one.”

“really? where'd you hear that?”

“i read it somewhere.”

“no sources?” you retort.

“nope, forgot.”

“likely story.”

you roll your eyes yet you humour him, picking up the liner filled with the mound of frosting you picked off your share of the cupcake earlier and sticking the previously lit candle into it. spencer grabs the match box and relights it.

you get all up in his space again, face dangerously close to his with the contraption you've made held next to you. “i wish you'd kiss me again,” you request, turning your head to blow out the flame. 

his fingers catch your chin to bring your face back to him, “we can definitely arrange that.”

you giggle as his lips hover over yours. “if this wish gets granted within the first five minutes too, do i get a third?”

“you can have whatever you want, angel.”

“good deal,” you murmur against his lips as he kisses you.

it was just a little over 15 minutes into your birthday but you could say with full certainty that this one was going to be your favourite.

[anothermansjeans]

surprise, surprise

s.r x fem!reader

cw: fluff, bau has nooooo idea about reader, food mention

wc: 831

summary: spencer comes home from a case on his birthday and has a surprise waiting for him at the office... turns out it's a surprise for the bau too

a/n: this was a request from @formula1-motogpfan i hope i hit all of the marks with this! let me know what you think!!

masterlist

++

Walking into the BAU after another long case meant so much to the team. It meant they would get their mandatory three day break. It meant they could go home and sleep in their own beds. It meant Spencer got to spend his birthday with Y/N. The team had wished him a happy birthday earlier in the day, asking him if he would like to do something once they got back. Of course, he said no. He didn't tell them his exact plans, but they knew it involved going straight home.

He texted her the moment they touched down; a habit formed after Spencer stayed extra late to finish paperwork, which caused her to worry a lot.

Spencer: I’m back, love. I’ll be leaving as soon as possible.

The team was gathering their stuff to head back to the FBI, and when there was still no response from her as they pulled into the parking garage, he began to worry. She normally responded within five minutes of him sending the text, no matter what time of day it was. Because of dread and anxiety running through him, he wanted to get in and out of the building as fast as humanly possible without the team becoming suspicious of his actions.

As a group, they walked in, and Hotch slowed his pace, causing the rest of them to look over at him. There was a woman standing near Spencer’s desk. “Ma’am, can I help–”

Hotch didn't get to finish his question because when she turned around, Spencer pushed past the rest of the team and quickly walked over to her. A word or two was exchanged and the team watched as they latched their lips together, completely in shock.

“I didn't think he took that ‘kissing has less germs’ fact so seriously,” Emily said, staring at the scene in front of her.

“He doesn't,” Derek started, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by Penelope.

“I’m so glad you're back safely- Oh!”

Now everyone was standing there, watching Spencer and this strange woman share a kiss and hug. Derek cleared his throat, obviously stunned but not too stunned to speak. “Okay, Pretty Boy, you mind introducing us?”

The two (apparent) lovers split apart, Spencer turning to his team with pink dusted cheeks and bruised lips. He didn't say anything for a good minute, only moving to speak when a soft, “babe,” was heard from beside him.

“Oh! Uh, this is– this is my girlfriend. Y/N.”

She waved to the group with a shy smile.

“Girlfriend!?” Penelope practically shrieked, causing the floor to quiet down for a moment. “Sorry, girlfriend? For how long?”

“One year, eight months, three weeks, and twenty-three days.”

Everyone from Rossi and Hotch to JJ and Penelope was shocked. Emily was the only one who could seem to speak. “You've had a secret girlfriend for over a year– almost two years?”

“Not a secret!” His head whipped over to his girlfriend, “you were never a secret.”

“I know, baby,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing it up and down.

“This is insane,” Penelope said as her shocked expression turned into a smile, “like, insanely amazing! Our boy genius found love!”

“Alright,” Hotch cut in, him and Rossi moving from the group, “it’s getting late. Paperwork can wait until we get back into the office. Reid, happy birthday again, and I’m happy for you.” A nod was shared between the two as Hotch went into his office, and Rossi squeezed Spencer’s shoulder as he passed him.

“So what made you show up here suddenly?” JJ’s question caused the attention to go back on Y/N and Spencer.

Y/N cleared her throat and laced her hands down with one of Spencer’s. “Well, I wanted to surprise him for his birthday and I made a cake. I thought everyone here could enjoy it with him.” She moved towards the side to show the box she brought placed on Spencer’s desk. “I could get out of your way if you want to celebrate.”

“Stay!” Penelope again, practically shrieked in the common area, “let’s move it into the conference room. Spencer, you, Emily, JJ, and my chocolate thunder go ahead. Y/N and I will grab some plates and napkins!”

She quickly went up to Y/N and linked their arms together, pulling her away from Spencer and into the kitchen. Y/N looked over her shoulder a couple of seconds after walking away, sending him a smile.

“We’re really happy for you, Spence,” JJ said, walking up to him next to Emily as they started towards the conference room.

“She's pretty. And we can tell she makes you happy,” Emily followed.

When it was just Derek and Spencer, Spencer looked over at the other man as he picked up the cake and ushered them both towards the round table. “You're lucky, Reid.”

“I know.” And he did know. He was really lucky.

[mochinek0]

Time to Go

Marinette had known since she was born that she was the only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul. She was also Damian's little sister, by three years.

When the strike on Ra's Al Ghul was taken, Talia quickly hid her away. Marinette knew her family's lives were on the line. She knew Damian would be on the front lines and prayed for his safe return. Although she knew she wasn't her grandfather's favorite, she still mourned his death. Damian seemed to take it especially hard.

Talia had told Marinette and Damian that they would be seperated for the time being. She needed Damian to go with his father to continue his training, while she picked up the pieces of the League.

"What about me, Mother?" Mari questioned.

"You will be on a mission, all of your own." Talia explained, "You're mission is to go undercover. You will act as a daughter of other people. This will keep you safe. Not many know of your existence, but I need to make sure all that wish to harm us, are gone."

"I do not approve of this." Damian snarled.

"I understand." Talia whispered, "I have folders for each of you with detailed instructions. Until you are in your new lodgings, you are not to open them."

Marinette nodded sadly and cried herself to sleep in her big brother's arms. She knew it would be a while before she saw him again. Talia gave them their moment. It hurt her dearly to tear her children apart, but Slade had to pay for his crimes. The League had to be rebuilt and become stronger than ever to give them both their inheritance. With Ra's gone, she would train Marinette to become as deadly as her, when she came of age.

Marinette smiled at the envelope in her hand.

'Another letter from mother. I wonder what my orders are this time.'

Marinette,

The time has come for your father to pick you up. He and Damian will pick you up in three days time. Prepare for his arrival.

Marinette smiled, happily. Lila had been a pain in the ass, as of late. Sabine and Tom took everything her so-called friends said at face value. They would laugh at the implications over dinner. Marinette would tell them all of the lies and how brainless the class truly was. They both knew that if Marinette was really bullying Lila, she could have done far worse. Tom and Sabine had disagreed with Adrien's decleration, but told Mairnette to keep the piece while they reached out to Talia. Only her mother's orders were absolute. If her mother said she could kill her, they wouldn't stand in her way.

"Maman. Papa." Marinette called out.

"So, what did the letter say this time?" Sabine asked.

"Father and Brother will be here in three days time to retrieve me." she answered.

"Well, let's start pulling you out of that horrible school and get ou all packed up." Tom laughed, "I'm sure they will be happy to see you."

'Damian, perhaps. Father; I don't know if he even knows of my existence. Surprise, Father.'

Bruce sighed, "What do you mean you have a sister?"

"It's just as I stated." Damian declared, "Mother has insisted it is safe to retrieve her."

"You've been talking to Talia?" Dick questioned.

"No." the young Wayne heir answered, "She gave us both instructions before we left."

Damian held up the letter.

"There are certain dates for me to open these letters." he explained, "Most of them coincide with our birthdays. Today is Marinette's; she turns fifteen."

"So where is she?" Jason asked.

"Paris, France." Damian stated, "She has been under watchful eyes and was assigned to live as a normal child. No assassin work. Grandfather wasn't too happy that he didn't have two grandsons. Mother taught her self-defense, but she helped out around, mostly as a servant. I was to ignore her if I saw her unless we were alone."

Bruce rubbed his head.

"I have already prepared another room, Sir." Alfred smiled.

"Please, don't let there be two of him." Tim pleaded as Bruce stood up and walked out of the cave to pack.

Marinette handed over her ledger of Lila Rossi to Bruce.

"The school needs to choose their staff more carefully." she spoke, "Tom and Sabine have tried stepping in with the Principal, but I bellieve the Board needs to know what is going on under their noses.

Bruce looked at it and quickly read through it.

"I agree." he snarled, "I'll be taking it with me to the board. I need to legally sign you out of that school, anyways."

Marinette turned to her brother and hugged him.

"I missed you." she whispered.

Damian said nothing, but held her close.

Tom and Sabine stood by as they watch the girl they help raise, reunite with her family. Marinette let go and realized they were holding something.

"We have a copy of all of the recipes we've made over the years." Sabine declared, "Both in the bakery and just for the house."

"Family eyes only." Tom smiled.

"Thank you." Marinette replied, taking it and holding it close to her chest.

"I will make sure it is handed over to our grandfather and he will keep it locked up and safe." Damian declared.

Tom and Sabine smiled.

"I need to take my stuff back to the school." Mari spoke up.

"Go." Damian replied, "Father should return soon. I will tell him where you are and we will meet you there. I will put your belongings in the car so we can leave immediately."

Marinette walked into class and handed her class books over to Ms. Bustier.

"Marinette, why-" Caline began to question.

"I resign as class president." Mari announced.

"What?" Caline whispered in shock.

"Marinette?" Adrien called out, "Are you okay?"

"Is this why you haven't been in school?" Alya asked.

Caline laughed awkwardly, "Marinette, I'm sure-"

"I will be leaving this school, as of today." she announced, leaving the class stunned.

"Oh, Marinette!" Lila called out, standing up, "Did I do something? I only wanted to be friends!"

"Yeah!" shouted Kim, "What the hell?"

"I'll be moving in with my birth father and older brother." Marinette stated, "Mother says it is time for me to go with them."

"Sabine kicked you out?" Adrien questioned, confused.

"Sabine and Tom are my guardians, not my parents." Mari declared, "My birth father listened to me. I have always had a keen eye for detail, as many of you know from asking me to design for them."

"Are you till going on about 'Lila stealing from you'?" Alya asked, "We know it was you who stole!"

Lila paled and sat back down in her seat.

'What?'

Marinette looked at Lila and smiled, "Why do you think Ms. Bustier doesn't want me to stop being class president? It's because I make detailed plans for all the school trips, fundraisers, plan the fire drills, and escape routes. I even know where everything in this school is, including the security cameras. I have kept a record of every lie you said sice you got here, where and when. My father turned the evidence over to the Board of Governers."

Lila's jaw dropped.

"If the cameras aren't working, then they'll just go after that gullible man. Pretty sure embezzlement won't keep him in position." Mari shrugged.

"Huh?" asked Nino.

"How many times do you think the mayor pays him to look the other way when Chloe's being a bitch?" Marinette declared.

"Excuse me!" Chloe shouted.

"Maybe Lila can lend you her hearing aids." Marinette retorted.

"This is why you're a bully." Alix glared at her.

Marinette simply smiled.

Bruce and Damian walked in. Chloe smoothed her clothes and fluffed her hair, quickly. She stood up and smiled.

"I'm-" She spoke.

"Your voice is like nails on a chalk board." Damian commanded, "Be silent."

Chloe closed her mouth and sat down in embarassment, leaving everyone speechless.

Marinette giggled, "You always did know how to make an entrance, Big Brother."

Chloe's jaw dropped.

'She's a Wayne!'

Marinette turned and smiled at Chloe, "Goodbye, Daddy's Little Princess." before turning back to her family, "Father, I am ready to return home."

"Very well." Bruce spoke.

All three of them left the class without another word. There was a lot they had to discuss. As far as Bruce knew, Marinette had no idea about him being Batman and Damian being Robin. She had grown up with some semblance of a normal life and he wanted to keep it that way.

The class looked at the door confused.

"Chloe?" whispered Sabrina.

"Shit!" Chloe screamed, slamming her fists onto the desk.

"Chloe, are you okay?" asked Kim.

"No!" she yelled back, "Do I look okay? So you know-You don't know who they are? Of course you Pea Brains, don't! That was Bruce and Damian Wayne. Which makes.....Baker Girl is one of the richest people in the world."

Lila sat in her seat, enraged.

'What?'

"What?" questioned Alya.

"They have more money than mine and Adrikins' family combined." she scoffed, "Her father could buy Daddy's hotel like it was nothing!"

"But-" whispered Mylene.

"Marinette is a Wayne." Chloe stated, "The Waynes own an international business and have their hands in everything. They are old money. Bruce Wayne practically owns a whole city and just doesn't wanna be mayor."

"What about her brother?" asked Alix.

"He's known for being violent and lashing out. He hates the press." she remarked, "One thing about him on social media and he hunts you down and sues you."

"That's illegal." Alya claimed.

"Sorry. Would you prefer to be thrown in jail or settle for a million dollars to delete what you have?" the heiress questioned, "The Wayne family is known for the high IQ and attention to detail, which means....we're all screwed."

The class learned that everything Marinette had said was true. Lila's lies were all exposed. She was expelled and taken to a juvenile detention center, ontop of being sued by various people. Principal Damocles had been fired, as he had zero authority to expell anyone. Their teacher, Caline Bustier, was fired for not doing her job. She never informed the nurse about Lila's illnesses or disabilities, so there was never any confirmation that any of those were true. She also never sent Lila any homework during her 'travels' and so she was far behind the class in her studies.

Chloe believed she was suffering the most. Adrien was no longer in school with her. The people that let her do what she wanted was removed from the school and she was being forced to sell clothes out of her closet because her mother was upset by how much she 'embarassed them' in front of the Waynes.

'Stupid Marinette! This is all her fault! If she had just acted rich, like me, everything would be the same as it always was.'

The class was in disarray. Not only had Ms. Bustier let Lila slide on so many things, she was behind on their lessons as well. They now had mandatory after school tutoring and study sessions. Adrien Agreste had been pulled out of the class due to his high marks. He was also at the level they all should have been at.

"Dude, how did you pass?" Nino asked, "We all listened to Miss Bustier! You're higher than anyone, including Max!"

"Well, I was homeschooled and Natalie was a tough teacher compared to Miss Bustier. Also, I wanted to be at the same grade level as Chloe. I sorta knew mostly everything, already." Adrien admitted, "I actually could have skipped a few grades if I wanted to."

Nino was surprised, "Would you be willing to tutor us?"

"I wish I could but the board made me take a test and Father demanded I answer every question I knew correctly." Adrien sighed, "I'll be going to high school and if I continue the way I am now, I'm set to graduate in two years."

They realized it would never be the same. Everyone else still had four or five years until they graduated. 

Bruce thought that another child would tip the balance of the manor, but he was wrong. It felt like all they had been missing, was her. She adjusted perfectly to the chaos. His sons insisted that Marinette learn self-defense, at the very least. She refused to walk in their footsteps and become Robin or any other sort of vigilante. It hadn't taken long for Marinette to be announced as Bruce Wayne's daughter and Damian's long lost biological sister. Marinette had taken Gotham by storm as Gotham's Angel and was designing under a new alias: Serpentine. She was taking the fashion world by storm.

Everyone loved having Marinette around, but Damian Al-Ghul Wayne knew better. Marinette was as deceiving as their mother. She looked innocent in everything she did, but her mind was a war zone. Their grandfather never appreciated her mind, but he had gotten some of his best stealth mission ideas after talking with her. He could see her slithering into every crack in their new home. She was flexible like Grayson, loved motorcycles like Todd, talked business with Father and Drake. She even won over Alfred, Brown and Cain with her cooking and baking skills.

Damian watched as Marinette smiled at her computer. The look at the screen, the smile; it was his mother's smile. He could see Gabriel stocks were plummeting after their reunion in Paris. Style Queen was barely hovering above water. For Marinette, it was never about becoming Robin. It was about ruling the world and she was going do it through fashion.

Damian would never tell anyone, but he was scared of his little sister and he would take it to his grave. The smile that would lead anyone to death: The Arabian Helen of Troy.

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[willieverseetheland]

jingle bells.

spencer reid x fem!reader summary: spencer gets a little too tipsy at the office christmas party.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, language, spencer being a dork

fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers

I know christmas has been over, I just felt inspired.

wc: 1.4k

You've always loved Christmas. It wasn't the holiday itself; it was how it brought people together. Everything just feels so cozy and bright. So when Penelope asked you to help her decorate for the party, you were more than happy to do so.

Although your job can be very depressing at times, the office environment is truly amazing. Everyone is so kind. You couldn't ask for better coworkers. However, there's one fellow profiler you've grown rather close with these past few months.

Spencer Reid was one of the first people you became friends with at the BAU, other than Penelope of course. He's such a good friend, and always seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say. He notices the little things, like when you were always complaining about your feet being cold, so he bought you fuzzy socks. Or when he overheard you talking to Emily about how badly you wanted this decorative plate set for your new apartment, and he got it for you for your birthday. He's truly the best friend a girl could ever ask for. But recently you've been wondering if it's only platonic love that you feel. Could it be more than friendship? You find yourself putting extra effort into your appearance, but you just chalk it up to wanting to better yourself. You have also noticed how when you shop, you choose clothes you think he might like.

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he feels the same way. Does he lie in bed at night thinking of your voice and laughter the way you think of him? Does he get flustered when your knees brush together during debriefs? Does he get that fluttery feeling in his stomach when you lock eyes from across the room?

Now that you're thinking about it, you really fucking like him. You feel like a teenager with a schoolgirl crush. God, how could you let this happen? You know that co-worker relationships rarely work out. But you're an adult, you can be mature about it, right?

You snap out of your daydream and realize its already 6:00. The party starts in an hour, and you only have a quarter of what you need to do done.

"Hey Penelope, think we could get some Christmas music going? I work faster with music playing!"

"It's like you read my mind y/n!"

The sound of bells fills the room and suddenly you find yourself feeling very festive. You hear Penelope humming along.

You work quickly to get the last of the lights and tinsel strung up. You wish it could look like this year-round. You check your watch. 6:53. Everyone should be arriving soon.

You hear the elevator ding and see Derek walk out with a plate full of what is most definitely store-bought cookies.

"Wow, you ladies really outdid yourselves."

"Hello Derek and thank you" you smile.

People begin to arrive one-by-one. Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. Everyone says their hellos and get settled. Some make their way to the booze faster than others.

It's 7:25 and Spencer isn't here yet. You feel a pit begin to form in your stomach. You were really hoping to see him tonight. You decide to grab yourself a drink and socialize, take your mind off of him. He'll show up eventually, right?

"Y/N! Hey! Where's your other half?" Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrows. You can tell she snuck a few shots in the elevator.

"I assume you mean Spencer. Not sure actually." So much taking your mind off of him. And what did she mean by other half? It's not that obvious right?

You scan the room, hoping to see Spencer, but you don't. However, you do catch Rossi getting rather comfortable with new forensic photographer.

You finish your drink and wander off to get another. Looking at your watch you see that it's 7:47. You're starting to feel a little hopeless. But right as you turn to rejoin the party, you see him. Those big brown eyes and fluffy hair.

"Hey Y/N, sorry I'm late. I had to go pick up some last-minute gifts."

Weight falls off of your shoulders at the sound of his voice. You feel overwhelming relief now that he's here. You had spent the last hour, or at least what felt like an hour, with your jaw clenched and a heavy feeling in your stomach. You hate feeling this way. You know you need to talk to him, but you don't want to screw up a good thing.

"It's alright Spence, I'm just glad you're here now." You give him a warm smile and place your hand on his shoulder.

He gives you his classic dorky smile in return, and you feel those all too familiar butterflies swell in your stomach.

As the night goes on, the wine flows and sounds of laughter fills the room. You stay by Spencer's side practically the whole night. Now you understand what Emily meant. You notice he's had quite a bit to drink. Definitely not more than Rossi, but more than usual. You feel like he's being more playful and affectionate as well. But you assume it's just the alcohol. You desperately hope he's flirting, but you don't want to look too far into it.

Your thoughts quickly dissolve into the air as the room goes silent and Rossi's rather loud voice announces it's time to exchange gifts. You give out your gifts and accept the ones given to you. You receive a cinnamon roll scented candle from Emily, a pair of heart shaped earrings from Penelope, a fuzzy blanket from JJ, and various trinkets and gadgets from others. Spencer hands you a slender box wrapped in shiny blue snowflaked wrapping paper.

"I wonder what this could be." You raise your eyebrow playfully and give a small laugh.

You carefully tear off the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside is a necklace with small heart shaped locket.

"Go ahead, open the locket." he has a drunken grin, and his eyes are eager.

You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Spencer from your birthday. You feel a warmth spread over your face and you can't help but smile.

"Oh my god Spencer, this is- thank you so much, really." You pull him into a tight embrace. Relishing in the feeling of his arms around you for just a moment. You pull away, smile faltering slightly.

"Would you walk with me? Outside? It's really warm in here." His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are a rosy pink. His drinks have definitely caught up with him now. No wonder he feels warm.

"Of course, are you feeling okay?" you ask with sincerity.

"Yeah, there's just a lot of noise. Just need some fresh air s'all."

You two slip out into the crisp, December night. The sky's clear so you can see the stars. Your breath creates mini clouds in the night air.

You look over at Spencer and wonder what's going on inside that brilliant brain of his. You've always been so fascinated by the way he thinks.

"You look so beautiful right now. I-I mean you always do, but in this moment you..." his voice trails off like he has more to say, but doesn't know if he should say it.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You let out a quiet laugh.

You can hear carolers singing jingle bells in the distance.

You glance up at him and see that he's looking at you. His eyes reflect the full moon. There's a sadness in his eyes but also an admiring, soft expression.

"y/n."

"Yeah, Spencer?" You place your hand on his forearm. His mouth opens and closes slightly like he doesn't know if he should say what he's about to say.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, y/n." his voice is soft and trembling ever so slightly. His eyes jump across your face, searching for a reaction.

You feel like your brain might short circuit. You're overwhelmed with emotion. You feel a sting as your eyes prick up with tears.

"Spencer, I don't know what to say." You see his smile fade and fear that may have been poor choice of words.

You decide maybe words won't do how you feel justice.

You step closer to him, placing your right hand on his cheek and the left just below his jaw. You breathe in deeply and pull his face to yours. You place a soft kiss on his lips. He then grabs the sides of your face deepening the kiss. You feel heat creeping up your neck, and the whole world feels as though it's melting away.

You pull away, catching your breath. He looks starstruck, like he can't believe what just happened. And honestly, you can't either. You almost want to ask him to pinch you.

"I love you too, Dr. Spencer Reid."

[fall0utmind]

Happy Birthday Vale and Marc

Since you have all been so lovely to me today AND it's my birthday - here's a little treat for you.

a deep dive into Marc and Vale's birthdays throughout the years - just a cute little one shot for the day

Ao3 HERE

Edit- cause I'm dumb-

2014 entry inspired by this amazing fic by @le-chevalier-au-lion - go read it xx

Let me know what you think and come talk to me (pretty please)

2003 –

The first time Marc realised that he and Valentino almost shared a birthday, he was 10 years old. Marc had often wondered through the years If it was destiny or a coincidence, if you asked a younger him, he would say it was fate. Maybe he just liked feeling special.

After all, he was only a child, and Valentino was his idol.

Valentino turned 24 during testing for the upcoming 2003 season. Marc remembered it vividly, the photos and videos of his Yamaha team holding out a birthday cake and singing in brash Italian as they celebrated their world champion.

The next day, when Marc was blowing out his ten candles, he closed his eyes and wished to be like Vale, to race next to him, and to win.

2008-

Marc’s first season in the paddock was in 2008. Excitement buzzed under his skin, because here he was, racing 125cc bikes and in the same tracks as his heroes. Pedrosa, Rossi, Stoner. His birthday was almost a second thought, when there was so much action around him, why would he care about turning fifteen?

Later that year, he met Rossi for the first time, after begging and begging a journalist and mutual friend. Marc stubbed over himself in excitement, his hands shook when he held out the model car to be signed. Valentino smiled at him and Marc felt complete, maybe it was destiny after all.

(Many years later, the car still sat on his shelf at home.)

2013-

In 2013, when Marc finally got the call up to MotoGP, a text was sitting unopened on his phone, just in time for his 20th birthday.

“Congratulations on the move, and happy birthday” – Valentino

At first, Marc thought it was a joke. Then he saw the Italian area code and choked. He couldn’t think of many Italians close enough to prank him whose number he hadn’t saved. Valentino had, of course, turned 34 one day earlier, celebrating in true Valentino style, if the press was true. The message had come in at 5 am, a sure sign of the end of a night out.

Excitement brimmed within him, he didn’t bother to wonder where Valentino got his number, probably Dani, given that he and Marc had been spending some of Pre-season together.

Marc felt like he had finally made it, a shiny Honda to his name, already with two championships under his belt and the best motorcycle rider ever wishing him happy birthday.

Marc thought his life couldn’t get much better.

2014-

Marc was wrong last year; his life clearly could get better. On the 15th of February 2014, Marc found himself in some club in Italy, partying the night away, surrounded by other riders and, notably, Valentino. Marc was drunk, far too drunk, letting a random girl cling to him. He pressed lips to his neck, leaving behind the sticky residue of her gloss as they danced. Whenever Marc spoke, she laughed loudly, placing her hands all over him. Her perfume was cloying; Marc couldn’t find it to care.

He let himself get dragged to the bathroom, eyes widening as she shut the door and dropped to her knees. Marc promptly himself to the sensation of warmth around his dick, too gone with pleasure and alcohol to stop himself from imagining that it was someone else on their knees. Marc shoved a hand into his mouth as he came, trying to remain quiet.

Afterwards, Marc returned the favour, turning down her request to return to his hotel room in favour of heading back towards the bar. She shrugged non-committedly and slipped out of the bathroom whilst Marc was still buttoning up his jeans.

When Marc crept out of the bathroom, there were eyes on him. He glanced around until he met Valentino’s gaze. The older man nodded, beckoning him over. His eyes were appraising, a hint of heat in them, it made Marc shiver.

“You’ll get a reputation, you know?” Valentino ribbed, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he glanced Marc up and down.

Marc flushed red, hoping Valentino wasn’t insinuating what he thought he was.

“You would think you at least want actual sex in a bed on your birthday, no? Allora, you are young, and a blowjob is still worth it” he leered, eyebrow raised.

Marc couldn’t meet his eyes, the alcohol in his blood and the fizz of arousal and satisfaction under his skin were confusing him. Valentinos stare made the hair on his arms stand on end.

The older man took a step forward and Marc stumbled back, his wide eyes finally meeting Valentino’s as he leant into Marc’s space. Marc’s breathing caught in his throat, Valentino was so close he could smell him, musky cologne and a hint of the beer her was drinking. Marc felt woozy.

“Go home Bambino and next time take the girl with you. Birthday blowjobs are good and all but I think you’d prefer the real thing”

He looked Marc up and down once more.

“Trust me”

With that, Valentino turned and left, leaving Marc confused, bereft and half-hard in his jeans.

2016-

The year Marc turned 23 was shaping up to very a pretty shit year. After everything that happened last year on track, Marc was becoming very used to the harassment he received both online and in person. It didn’t make it any easier and he had almost reached breaking point when the journalists broke into his parent’s house. He thought it would cool down during the off-season, or maybe Valentino would have said something by now, called off the calvary. But he hadn’t, seemingly content to hold the petty grudge for more time than necessary.

Marc didn’t bother trying to go out on his birthday, instead choosing to have a couple of mates round – easier now that he had finally bought his own place.

For the first time in two years, Marc did get a text from Valentino; Marc tried to send one, only for it to bounce back, undelivered.

He tucked his phone into his pocket and pasted a smile onto his face as his friends and Alex sang Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs before they all settled down for a night of stupid games and getting drunk.

Marc noticed the way his friends sat closer, how their gazes lingered and their hands settled comfortingly when they slapped his back. They were worried about him.

Marc was fine though, it would pass - it always did.

But underneath it all, there was an unsettling sadness, bordering on fear building in Marc.

For the first time, he was beginning to wonder if his link to Valentino was more of a curse.

2018-

Things didn’t get better. Or maybe they did, slightly but they were never the same.

His number remained blocked; he never got another birthday text.

2019-

After Argentina, things went from bad to worse.

Valentino turned 40 the day before Marc turned 26. They hadn’t spoken in a year; Marc wasn’t stupid enough to think that would change.

Marc used to think 40 was old, he wasn’t sure when he stopped. He didn’t think about whether it was because he was slowly creeping closer to 30 years old, or because Valentino was there, and Marc didn’t dare think of him as old, not when he still whizzed around a race track, not when he still hated Marc.

Marc had 7 titles now, he hoped 2019 would bring another, potentially then Rossi would look at him again, he didn’t hold his breath.

These days anger rolled through him, always simmering under the surface, threatening to engulf him at any given moment. Fury at Valentino for taking his bitterness out on Marc, frustration that everyone had sided with him. Anger that he couldn’t fight back and that the fans now booed him at half of the races.

Embarrassingly, Marc spent the morning of the 15th refreshing social media, eager to see what Valentino was up to, even after all of this time. He was mortifyingly invested in Vale’s life, what he was doing, who he was dating, everything. Apparently, he was also excited to crush his own happiness. Every time someone posted a photo of a video, Marc clicked it, and navigated their profile on his private account, drowning in the knowledge that he missed out on this. All because Valentino couldn’t get over his ego.

Later that evening, once he had suitably upset himself, he celebrated his own birthday. Mar, went out and got stupidly drunk in a club with a few friends and a whole load of people he didn’t know. He didn’t remember much of the evening, just drinking, shots, shirty cm dancing, and hot lips on his next.

He woke up on his birthday with a pounding head and a dry mouth. Marc was 26 and in a stranger’s bed, their unfamiliar arms wrapped around him as they slept. He was still slightly sticky and sore.

Inside his chest, there was a gaping hole of discontent and loneliness. When he was younger, he thought that he would have life figured out by this age.

Marc sighed, disentangling himself from the stranger and creeping out of bed. He gathered his clothes and redressed in silence, leaving the room with only a slight creek of the door.

Marc thought Valentino was wrong. This was new and better than a bathroom blow job, not at all.

2021-

The first thing Marc registered when he woke up on his 28th birthday was pain. A bone-deep ache radiated from his shoulder and right arm, permeating through his body. Marc groaned into his pillow, willing for a few more minutes of the number bliss which sleep brought. He hated this, hated that he ever crashed in the first place. Three botched surgeries later and he was no better; riding hurt, waking hurt, living hurt. It was no good.

He was awake now and he knew that sleep would not pull him back under, the throbbing was too strong. He hauled himself out of bed, padding into the bathroom, only to stare into the mirror and take in the purple bags under his eyes.

He rooted in the medicine cabinets until he found the bottle of pills he kept there, swallowing two of them dry before wandering into the living room and slumping on the sofa. He turned on the TV and curled under a blanket, willing the pain to go away. He checked his phone.

No messages.

It was too early, not many people messaged these days.

He sighed and closed his eyes, contemplating whether it would be easier to just give up, to retire.

Later, when he blew out his twenty-eight candles, he wished for a solution.

2022-

Valentino turned 43 and had a child, and beautiful baby girl. He retired with his family and his pack of unruly boys who looked at him like he was a god. Marc turned 29 and had a couple of titles and a fucked-up arm to show for it.

Marc was lonely. Even though his brother had moved in with him, brought two dogs with him. Marc adored all three of them, but it wasn’t enough, how could it ever be?

He hated it, he had nothing to complain about, and life was good. But he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

He spent his birthday with Alex, half of it crying into his brother's shoulder- for his pain, his career, his loneliness. The other half he spent pretending to be fine.

2024-

Marc turns 31 feeling full of hope and surrounded by people he loved. He might have left the team he adored but he finally had the opportunity to love riding again. He was joining a team with his brother, the person he loved more than anyone. A team where he already felt at home. Marc was finally managing the pain in his arm; it wasn’t fantastic, but it was better. There was a chance.

For the first time in a year, Marc didn’t text Valentino a happy birthday, already knowing it would bounce back, like the thousands of other messages he had tried to send.  Instead, he turned off his phone, leaving it in his room as he rejoined his family in the living room.

2025-

In early 2025, the news broke that Valentino and his partner had split up – Marc read it and shrugged. He huffed when the news outlets began to run stories about Valentino being gay – anything for a story, he thought.

He was happy, finally on a competitive bike, with a teammate who, although not friendly, was polite and well-adjusted.

He didn’t think of Valentino much these days but felt sorry for the way the press now hounded him. Marc knew that wasn’t easy. They asked Marc, once, in a press conference during pre-season testing.

“Marc, what do you make about the new Valentino might be gay?”

Marc had laughed, bemused and caught off guard by the question, he gave Pecco a quick look, finding the other looking back already.

Marc turned back to the front of the room, catching the idiotic reporter’s eyes.

“I am not sure what it has to do with me. Good for him I guess.” He offered.

The reporter interrupted once more,

“But surely it isn’t a good look for the sport. A gay man leaving his wife and child, living a lie”

Marc frowned, anger boiling inside him. He thought that the reporter was giving him an out, some form of twisted revenge. Marc wouldn’t sink so low; he had no desire to.

“Again, it is none of my business. Do you guys do anything other than dig into people’s personal lives? Who is to say it is true and even if it is, bisexuality exists? Just let the man live, he retired to escape this circus.”

The room fell silent, clearly not expecting the response. In his peripheral, Pecco gave an approving nod.

On the 15th of February 2025, Valentino turned 46 and Marc didn’t go on social media once, he had deleted the apps in advance.

On the day he turned 32, he surrounded himself once more with those he loved. He didn’t go out and sleep in someone else’s bed.

At 9 pm, his phone dinged.

There was a message in his inbox. Marc almost threw his phone.

Valentino.

In the past year, his number had slipped down the list, with Marc finally giving up on the one-sided conversation, all in blue.

“Happy birthday”

That was it.

Marc didn't reply.

2026-

When Marc turned 33, with nine championships under his belt, he received another message from Valentino.

This time, he replied.

2026-

Marc turned 34 the year Valentino turned 48. They celebrated together, at home in Tavullia, surrounded by friends and family, Giulietta on Valentino’s lap as he blew out all of his candles.

Marc smiled as he took it all in. Everyone he loved was there, including, and most importantly, his family. These days Valentino didn’t text him a happy birthday, he said it instead. Marc never spent the night in a stranger’s bed, instead, he spent it wrapped in Vale’s arms, listening to the older man’s heartbeat in their own bed.

Marc thought that maybe it was destiny after all.

*fin*

[mismatched-sockss]

» Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader » Warnings: just a little fluffy something for valentines day, readers first relationship with a woman (short mention of prior relationships, therefore implied bisexuality; but no gender for exes mentioned), anxious and nervous reader, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, pet names (reader is called my love), » A/N: written with fem!reader in mind but I left out any mentions of gender for the reader, as well as skin-color

⚶ masterlist ⚶

You felt sick. So incredibly sick. The heavy stone that had formed in your stomach for the last couple of hours just wouldn't go away and on top, your heart beat so hard and fast that it made you feel dizzy.

A glance at the clock told you that it was almost time for Emily to arrive. "Oh god, oh god, ohh my god...", was all you could mumble to yourself as you ran around your apartment like a headless chicken, to make sure everything was ready. That everything was perfect. You needed it to be perfect.

To be honest, you felt like you had no idea what you were doing. Not a single clue. None of your exes were big on celebrating valentine's day in any kind of way, and for the last few years you had been single. So not only had you never really celebrated valentine's day before, but more importantly: it was your first relationship with a woman.

It had only been about a month since you started dating Emily. After a couple too many shots of tequila on new years eve, the liquid courage had made you bolder than you could have imagined. So, when the countdown to midnight reached zero and the both of you hugged and exchanged a "happy new year!", you had cupped her cheeks and kissed her. You were so overwhelmed at the moment, that you left the party without another word to anyone and ran home. Literally ran home. The next day Emily stood in front of your door, fresh coffee and croissants from your favorite bakery in her hand and you talked about your feelings for each other.

A part of you wished, all of this would have happened on another day. Don't get me wrong, you loved every second you were able to spend with her. But it was all so new to you, and today seemed like such a big day for some reason. Maybe you wouldn't be as nervous if you would have been dating for longer than a month. Then, if you would have gotten more used to being with her romantically, you wouldn't freak out as much as you were right now.

I mean, this wasn't your first date with each other, nor was it the first time Emily came to your place and / or stayed the night. But there was something about days like this - birthdays, valentine's day, or other holidays like christmas for example - that felt even more special when you are in love and spend them with your partner. And even though the both of you had been friends for years beforehand, it just was different now. Especially so early on in the relationship.

You nervously gnawed on your bottom lip as you let your gaze wander around the place. The food - a recipe by the courtesy of one David Rossi - was in the oven and would soon be done; so, check. Plates and cutlery out on the table; check. Emily had said, that she would bring some wine; therefore, check. The dozens of candles you had placed all around the apartment were lit; check. Nice outfit; check. The bouquet of flowers you got for Emily; che-

The door bell rang so sudden it startled you and it was a surprise you didn't scream. Your heart threatened to jump out of its confinement as you walked to the door. Taking a deep breath you reached for the door handle, your hands trembling.

The first thing you saw was a big, beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. Emily exhaled as if she had held her breath and fleshed you a big smile, her eyes shining and full of love as she took you in. "Hello, my love. Happy valentine's day."

"Hi", you breathed, your own lips stretching into a wide smile, "happy valentine's day." You took a step aside to let her in. After you closed the door behind her, you took the bouquet from her and buried your nose in the flowers, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, they are beautiful."

"I'm glad you like them." Emily smiled as you placed a kiss on her lips.

You hurried to put the flowers in a vase and placed them on the table in your living room, while Emily took off her coat. You were speechless for a moment when you saw her. The fabric of the red dress she wore hugged her body like a second skin, knee-length, with a slit on the right side that ended just centimetres under her hip.

Emily did little to mask her amusement when she saw you staring at her. But her amusement was quickly erased by awe when her gaze wandered around the room. Now, it was her time to be speechless, as she took in the scenery. The candles you had placed on almost every possible - and safe - surface, the rose petals that you had placed everywhere, the dimmed lights and the soft music that played in the background.

"Wow... That's...", she started, her brows furrowing as she looked for the right word. You grew nervous. Was it too much? Should you maybe had stopped at music and candles and leave the rose petals?

But before the little voice in the back of you head had any chance to get louder, Emily closed the space between you, reached up to cup your cheek with one hand and run her thumb over your cheekbone. The other found its place on your hip. "Beautiful. It's.." Again, she tried tried to find the right words, but not one came close to describe what she felt.

"So, you like it?", you asked shyly. Emily's gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes as she nodded. "Yeah", she breathed and kissed you.

You pulled her closer and melted into her kiss, into her touch. It didn't take long for Emily to softly nibble at your bottom lip and swiping the tip of her tongue over it. Your lips parted and a soft moan left your throat when your tongues met.

When the alarm clock you had set for when you had to get the food out of the oven rang, neither of you moved. All you did was whisper "Food's ready" in between kisses, but instead of pulling away you pressed your body closer to Emily's.

She smiled into the kiss. "Mmh, I think, I want some dessert first."

[littlespacereader]

It’s my Birthday!!🥳🎊🎉

And in celebration of my birthday I made a Criminal Minds Readers fic! Please enjoy!!

Big Birthday, Little Birthday

Caregiver!BAU Family & GN Little! Reader. Completely SFW:)

Tags: BAU team as a family of Caregivers, birthday party, presents, cake, diapers mentioned, play arguing, pacifiers, sippy cup

Nicknames: little one, darling, sweetheart, kid, kiddo and la mia gioi (my joy in Italian), birthday kiddo, Daddy Hotch - Morgan’s joke to Hotch, babygirl - Morgan’s nickname to Garcia

I walked into work, hands in my pocket and my head hanging low. Today’s my birthday, which is normally a happy celebration to anyone else, but to me it wasn’t.

It just reminded me that I’m another year older which frustrated me to no end. It wasn’t like I could just stop aging, I knew that, but the idea of being older hurt my little self tremendously.

The comments people say like “Wow you’re getting so big now! I can’t believe you’re that age” or “You’re really growing up” just make me want to stomp my foot and go “No! I’m still little! I’m still just a little kid.” But not everyone would truly understand what I mean by that.

So I simply stopped telling people my birthday and avoided it all together. That was…until I joined the BAU.

I didn’t realize how close I would become to the team and how close they would become with me. My regression was something I kept to myself for years but after a particularly tough case I regressed involuntarily on the plane back and the whole team found out it.

I thought that I would be fired soon after, but instead the team looked after me and was accepting of my regression. All of them acted as Caregivers to me. Some like JJ, Morgan and especially Hotch make an effort to look after me all the time, regardless of if we’re on a case or not.

So it should’ve been no surprise to me what happened today.

I walked out of the elevator and into the bullpen to find it completely empty. I paused the unusual sight.

“What the hell?” I said to myself.

My first glance was to Hotch and Rossi’s offices which were completely dark. Now that is odd. Hotch is always the first one to work. If anyone was going to be here, it was him.

I glanced at my watch. 7:34 am. We had to be at work by 7:30. I was running a bit late but that meant the whole team running later than me? Where is everyone? Did work get canceled and no one told me?

But just as I was about to investigate strange occurrence my answer surprised me.

“SURPRISE!!!” The team jumped up and shouted.

Balloons and confetti flew into the air as everyone came out of their hiding spots. I couldn’t help but smile at the excited team. But I was mostly in shock. No one’s ever thrown me a surprise party.

“Happy birthday!!” Garcia was the first to run up and give me a hug out, knocking me out of my shocked state.

“Thank you,” I said squeezed in the tight hug. Once we broke apart I looked at the team confused, “How did you guys know?”

“Are you kidding me? I make a point of having everyones birthday’s written down.” Rossi explained.

Before I had a chance to say anything Morgan snuck over and put a big cake hat on my head. “There we go! Today your birthday royalty! Come on, we got you a cake!”

The group lead me over to the desk that had my surprise birthday cake. As I walked over to the desk I looked for Hotch, a bit overwhelmed by the surprise party. But I was getting ushered too fast by everyone that I couldn’t see him.

Emily noticed and smiled back at me with a gentle grin, “Come on everyone, let’s not crowd them. They’re still in shock from the surprise.”

I sat at the desk with the chocolate cake infront of me. The cake was filled with candles to the point of causing an actual fire. In the middle sat two number candles that screamed in my face the age I was turning.

“Make a wish sweetheart,” JJ said pulling out her camera.

That number, the never ending climbing number of my age stared back at me. My smile turned to a bit of a frown as I stared at the cake. With one big breath I managed to blow out all the candles in one go. Everyone cheered and smiled but I was struggling to do the same.

A soft hand held my shoulder and brought me out of my sadness in a heartbeat. I looked up to see Hotch swooping in like a knight in shinning armor.

While everyone was busy getting something to cut the cake Hotch pulled up a seat next to me. “I tried to talk them out of it but it’s a BAU tradition and they insisted you get the special treatment too,” He joked. “But don’t worry this is just the first party, the second party will be a bit more relaxed.”

I looked at him confused. “Second party?”

“Well today’s your birthday so we’re going to celebrate you entirely, both your big self and your little self. This party is for your big self. Later we’re all going to go to Rossi’s house and celebrate all over again so your younger self can enjoy your birthday too.” Hotch explained.

I just stared at him as tears started to form in my eyes. It was as if all that anger and frustration built over the years had finally released. They understood and they cared. They didn’t see me as getting older, they still saw me as their little one. They’re truly my chosen family.

“Thank you!!” Was all I managed to croak out before I gave Hotch a tight hug. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me.

“Hey now what’s this? Is Hotch’s gift so terrible it made you cry?” Morgan joked as he came over with the knife to cut the cake.

We broke a part and I shook my head. “No it’s not him, it’s all of you. I…I usually hate my birthday but this,” I looked up at my team. “All of this, it’s so sweet of you.”

“Wait until later! I got you the BEST gift.” Spencer exclaimed excitedly.

“Ohhhhh I doubt that Spence. You haven’t seen what I got them. I’m sure I’ll be the favorite one tonight.” JJ said winking at me.

“You can fight about who got the better gift later. For now let them eat the cake so I can get a slice myself. After all it’s bad luck to eat the cake before the birthday kiddo.” Rossi explained.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Morgan cut me a piece of cake and I took the first bite, allowing everyone else to get their slice and eat.

The rest of the morning and afternoon was a little bit of working and a little bit of my “big” birthday party. After cake everyone gave me what they called “adult present” which really was just a new coffee mug, a lamp and other boring stuff.

Then it was off to do paper work for the rest of the day. I was not allowed to do anything without the cake hat on my head though, that was the birthday rule despite my persuading.

The whole work day I was buzzing with excitement of what they had planned for me when we got back to Rossi’s house tonight. The more I thought of it, the more I wanted to regress and just get to the party. But I couldn’t! I had a real job and real work to do.

So like any reasonable Regressor, I sped up my work and did everything in record time so I could regress. With my stack of files finally accomplished, I picked them up and made my way to Hotch’s office.

It was a rule set up by the team after finding out about my regression that I should always see one of them and tell them I’m feeling smaller, whether I was on a case, in the office or even at home. That way I could regress in the safety of one of them.

So perfect opportunity! I had to drop off the files to Hotch and I’m feeling smaller, it’s a win win! Plus if I’m being honest with myself… I’m the closest Hotch. He’s just so gentle and fatherly!

Hotch was hunched over his own files when I knocked on the door and entered. His focus frown immediately turned to a small smile seeing me enter the office with this ridiculous cake hat still on.

“You couldn’t get out of wearing it?” He joked.

“I tried to argue but they said it’s tradition.” I shrugged.

I handed him the files then took a seat across from him. “I completely the files and filled out the paperwork so it can be analyzed. Oh! And I examined the lab reports and wrote about them too!”

Hotch listened to me overly and enthusiastically explain my paperwork to him. The moment I walked in he knew I was regressing so why hide it? That’s the problem when all your Caregivers are profilers. They know everything just by looking at you.

“That’s great Y/N, thank you. Are you starting to regress now that it’s getting close to your party?” He asked. I eagerly nodded.

“Okay, then you’re gonna stay with me till we’re ready to leave. Sound good darling?” Hotch said, standing up from his desk to close his office’s door.

“Sounds good!” I smiled back. Crossing the room going back to his desk he ruffled my hair a bit.

“I have a little surprise for you while you wait.” He said once seated again.

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a wrapped gift. “It’s a little something I found in a shop on our last case. A small present before your party.”

I eagerly ripped the paper away to reveal a new coloring book and crayons. I gasped and eagerly looked through the pages. “It’s so cool! Thank you!!” I jumped from my chair and ran around the desk to hug Hotch.

He chuckled and hugged me back. “I’m happy you like it. It’s just a little taste of what’s to come tonight. But now I sadly gotta keep working on my boring paperwork. Why don’t you color a picture for someone while you wait?”

“Great idea!” I ran back to my chair and got to work coloring away.

I was in my 4th picture when Rossi entered the room. “Hey kiddo, what you’d got there?” He peered over my shoulder.

“Hotch got me a safari animal coloring book!”

“Really?! How exciting!” Rossi said patting my shoulder. He smirked at Hotch, “He couldn’t wait till your party to give it to you?”

Hotch smirked and tried to shrug it off, “One little present before the party won’t hurt.”

Rossi couldn’t help but smile. Hotch is the toughest agent he’s ever known in the BAU. But even his cold exterior was no match for Y/N’s little side.

“Well I came in here to tell the two of you that everyone’s done for the day. Are you ready for your party?” he leaned and asked me.

“YES!!! FINALLY! Let’s go! Let’s go! LET’S GOOOO!!”

~~~

Thankfully the ride to Rossi’s house wasn’t too long because I was so excited to see what they had planned. Once we arrived JJ and Garcia took my hands and lead me to the door.

“Okay now I want you to close your eyes.” Garcia instructed.

With my eyes closed they guided me into the house. Once they got me in the right spot the two shouted “Open!”

I gasped once I opened my eyes. The whole house was decorated!! Streamers, balloons and little decorations everywhere. On the dinning room table next to me sat matching plates and cups all with a printed theme from my favorite tv show.

Again, I could feel myself getting a bit teary eyed. “It’s so pretty! I love it!! Thank you!” I turned and hugged JJ.

“It was a group effort…but I’ll gladly take the hug.” JJ wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

The moment we broke apart Morgan picked me up and spun me around on his shoulder. “It’s present time kiddo. Come on, I got you the best present!” I couldn’t breathe I was laughing so hard.

Spencer chimed in behind us, “I definitely have the best present!”

“Wait until they sees mine. All your present will be left in the dust.” Emily added.

The coffee table infront of the couch was filled with presents. Morgan dropped me down with a plop onto the plush couch causing me to bounce. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Careful we don’t want to hurt them before they get all these presents!” Garcia said getting me more and more excited.

I sat up and looked in awe at the colorful boxes! I couldn’t wait to open them all up!

“Wait! Where they’re birthday hat?” Emily asked seeing my cake hat missing.

“Leave it, they’ve had it on long enough today.” Hotch chimed in, sticking up for me.

“Ohhhhhh Daddy Hotch to the rescue.” Morgan joked, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Enough bickering! Here kiddo, you can open mine first.” Rossi said grabbing his gift bag and handing it over to me. He sat next to me and watched me open his gift.

I immediately dived into the bag and unwrapped my first gift which was a plastic cooking set! “Wowwwww!!” My eyes looked at all the little pieces of plastic food. It even came with a little apron and chef’s hat for me to wear.

“Now when I’m cooking in the kitchen, you can cook along side me.” Rossi pointed out.

I turned and hugged him. “Thank you!”

“Of course la mia gioi.” Rossi said as we broke apart. He always knew I loved when he spoke Italian. La mia gioi means my joy in Italian.

Next up is Garcia who had the most colorful gift wrapping. It was almost a crime to rip the paper…almost. I ripped it away to reveal the softest elephant stuffed animal in the world! I immediately brought it close and hugged it.

“Elephants are a sign of good luck, so wherever you and your elephant go you’ll always be lucky.” She explained.

I gave her a hug, the elephant squished between us. “Thank you!”

“Of course sweetie! Now all it needs is a name,” She pointed out.

I take a good look at the elephant, but there was only one name that made sense. “Lucky!” I smiled looking at my stuffie.

Garcia smiled, “That’s a perfect name!” I placed Lucky at my side and the presents continued on.

Next up is Emily who in an “end all competition” for who has the best present with JJ, Spencer and Morgan. Emily took a seat next to me and handed me her gift.

I immediately ripped it up to reveal the softest blanket ever!! And it was so long! I could be wrapped twice over in this blanket! “Oh my God it’s soooooooooo soft!!” I couldn’t help but bring it close to Lucky and I.

“Now every time you start to regress I can wrap you up like a little burrito.” She joked poking my sides causing me to giggle. She stood up and wrapped the blanket around me.

“Thank you!” I made sure to give her a hug as well.

“Of course sweetheart. I’m so happy you like it.”

Next up is JJ who took her seat next to Emily. “Here darling,” she said handing me the box.

I quickly opened it and gasped. It’s something I’ve wanted for a while! A miniature farm play set complete with the little cows, chickens and sheep!

“It’s a farm!! And I got cows and sheep and chickens!” I picked it up and showed everyone who lit up seeing my excitement.

I stood up and gave JJ a hug. “Thank you!!”

“You’re so welcome! I’m so happy you like it.”

Once I went to sit down she eyed Morgan and winked. He rolled his eyes. “Alright kid, the best present is right here.”

Morgan stood up and grabbed his present, handing it over to me. I couldn’t wait to see what it was, considering the hype behind it. So I immediately started to rip the wrapping away.

Morgan’s gift was a collection of art supplies compete with a new set of colored pencils, markers and a new sketchbook. It all came together in a little case so it would be easy to bring on the go. Again, I gasped looking at the present.

“Our little artist here could use some new supplies. I’ve been seeing you struggling with those old colored pencils and figured you needed an upgrade.” Morgan boasted.

“I love it!! Thank you!!” And like everyone before Morgan got a hug.

“Of course kid! Couldn’t have my artist left with subpar supplies.” Morgan joked. Once I went back to sit, Morgan looked over at Spencer. “Try to beat that pretty boy.” He winked.

Spencer rolled his eyes and got up to hand me his gift. It was HEAVY! By far the heaviest of all the gifts. Like all the other gifts, I ripped into it to reveal a book. Not just any book though, this book was The Illlustrated Encyclopedia of Fish.

“Wow!” I said, flipping through the book.

“You got them a book? That’s your wonderful present? A book?” Morgan asked.

“This is not just a book, it’s an Illlustrated copy of the Encyclopedia of Fish. It has every sea creature with pictures and descriptions. It’s a perfect gift for them! They love animals and this is every sea creature known at the moment.”

“At the moment?” Rossi asked.

“Every year we know discover over 2,000 new marine species. We know more about space than we do our own oceans which make up 71% of our planet. Studies say-.”

Spencer’s rambling was cut off by my thank you hug. “Thank you! I love it!” I broke apart from our hug. “Can you read it to me later?”

Spencer lit up with a smile, “I would love to.” After I walked back to my spot Spencer just turned and smiled at Morgan with all the sass in the world.

Finally it was Hotch’s turn for his present. His present was the smallest of the group. But knowing Hotch, it was the most thoughtful.

I opened the tiny box to reveal something I’ve wanted for the longest time but was always too shy to ask or get, a pacifier. I stared at it in awe before looking up at Hotch. He just smiled and nodded his head for me to try it.

I immediately popped it into my mouth and within seconds I started to feel myself regress further. With a heavy sigh I looked back at Hotch and smiled, “I wove it!” I said around the pacifier but my words got a bit muffled.

The group laughed but we’re all gushing over how cute I looked with the pacifier.

“I know you’ve been wanting one for a while now. I even got it in your favorite color.” Hotch explained. “Best part is what it comes with.” Hotch stood up and grabbed something from the gift box I missed.

He attached a colorful band to the pacifier and then clipped the other end to my shirt. “There,” he added. “Now you’ll never lose it.”

I jumped up and hugged him tightly. “Tank yuu.” I mumbled around the pacifier.

He hugged me back just as tight. “Anything for you little one.”

And with that, the gift giving was over and you know what that means…ITS PLAY TIME!!

While Rossi, Hotch and Emily went into the kitchen to cook dinner, I stayed in the living room and started to play with all the new toys with JJ, Garcia, Spencer and Morgan!

First we played farm with my new farm set. Which was so funny! JJ and I were farmers and Morgan was a sheep, Spencer was a cow and Garcia was a chicken. It was hilarious hearing Spencer and Morgan argue over who should have the bigger stall at the farm.

Then we played restaurant! I took everyone’s orders as they sat on the couch and pretended they were at a fancy restaurant.

“Here’s your food sir,” I said handing Spencer a plate of plastic chicken and plastic watermelon.

“I asked for an apple not watermelon.” Spencer pointed out.

“Wow sounds like a real Karen at the table behind us, right babygirl?” Morgan said overly loud to Garcia. I started giggling.

“I’m not being a Karen! I ordered an apple.”

“It was the chef’s choice to make it a watermelon.” I added.

“Who’s the chef?” Spencer asked. I turned round and pointed to Lucky who was now sporting the chef’s hat and apron.

“Oh! My apologies. I didn’t know that Lucky was cooking.” Spencer quickly recovered. “Thank you for the meal.” He winked at me.

Then I went over to the next table of Morgan and Garcia. “How is the food?”

“It’s absolutely divine! My compliments to the chef.” Garcia said in a super fancy tone.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Morgan added in the same tone.

“Alright, enough restaurant. The real chef has finished dinner.” Rossi said entering the room.

Everyone entered the dining room. In the center of the table sat tonight’s meal and another the cake! For dinner Rossi cooked my favorite meal of all time! He’s the best!

I knew immediately where I was sitting, the telltale sign being the only one with plastic utensils and a sippy cup.

Everyone took their seats and started to dig into the dinner. I sat at the head of the table, Hotch at my right and Emily at my left. Periodically the two would cut food when I needed or wipe my face with a napkin, both of which I was always grateful for.

Then after eating dinner it was time for the best part…THE CAKE!! This cake was the cutest! Themed along with everything else. But the best part about it was the number candle in the middle which was simply the number 2, my little age.

As everyone started to sing happy birthday, I couldn’t be more happy and grateful for my BAU family. They organized and made my birthday so special to both my big self and my little self.

“Make a wish Y/N.” Hotch said at the end of the song.

With my wish in mind and one mighty breath I blew out all the candles in one go. Then it was cake time!!

Most to the cake ended up on my shirt and face mostly due to my excitement to eat it as fast as humanly possible. And while you might think that would be embarrassing, it wasn’t with my little family. They simply found it adorable.

“You have more cake on your face than your plate sweetheart.” Emily joked. “After dinner we gotta get you changed.”

And so she did. Using some spare pajama left here for this very reason, I was changed into the comfortable pjs as well as a diaper.

With myself now changed and padded, I spent the rest of my birthday night relaxing with my amazing Caregivers on the couch.

I used Morgan’s new art set and made some pictures for everyone. But as the night started getting later, I started to get more tired.

I popped my pacifier in my mouth and searched for Lucky. Then I grabbed Lucky and my new blanket, holding them both in my arms. Finally I grabbed Spencer’s book and brought it over to him, taking a seat along side him.

“You want me to read about some fish?” Spencer asked, I simply nodded.

“Alright, let’s get you comfortable first.” Spencer put the book in his lap before he helped wrap me up in the soft blanket. “There you go. Now you’re ready to hear about some marine mammals.”

He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and flipped open the book with the other. “What should we start reading about?”

I rested my head in his shoulder stretch my legs over his lap. I pointed out a chapter on whales.

“Whale? Okay, page 126 then.” He flipped to the page and started to read. “Whales are a widely distributed and diverse group of fully aquatic placental marine mammals. Whales can range from 8.5 feet to 98 feet in length, making them the largest mammals to ever live.”

As Spencer started to read on my eyes started to get heavier and heavier. Eventually I just gave into the sleepy feeling and snuggled closer to Spencer, letting my eyes close and drifting off to him talking about the different types of whales.

“Certain species like the humpback whale communicate using melodic sounds known as a whale song. Humpback whales only have been heard making clicks, while toothed whales use sonar to communicate with one another,” Spencer continued on.

“Spence,” JJ whispered to him. He lifted his head from the book and looked over at her. She just nodded her head in Y/N’s direction. Spencer looked down to see Y/N peacefully asleep wrapped around his side. He smiled and closed the book.

“Well your gift is good for something.” Morgan joked whispering as well.

“Don’t listen to him it’s a great gift. Y/N looked so excited to hear you read it.” Hotch pointed out.

“They loved everything more than I could’ve imagined.” Garcia smiled.

“How are we going to top this next year?” Emily asked.

“I already have a few ideas.” Morgan smirked.

The family laughed.

“They needed this, that last case was tough for them.” JJ added.

“They needed this and we needed this. They do just as much for us as we do for them.” Rossi pointed out.

They all nodded in agreement. Everyone needed a break away from the harsh and sometimes disturbing job they all work for. Regression was not only beneficial for Y/N, it was beneficial for them too.

“To many more birthday to come for our little one,” Rossi raised his glass. They all cheers, all except Spencer who couldn’t move with a sleeping Y/N at his side.

“Happy birthday Y/N.” Spencer whispered, leaning over and kissing the top of Y/N’s head.

[rossithepixie]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROSSI!!! thank you for sharing your kind and amazingly talented self with us! you’re always so thoughtful in the way you treat others and how you offer your insights on different topics. this community is better with you in it 💛 i hope you had a relaxing week and that you treat yourself too! you deserve to be spoiled!! 🎂🎂🎂🎈🥳🎁🎊🥳🎈🎈🎉🎁🎁🎂🎉🎁🎊🎉🎂🎂🎊🎊🎁🎉

Amira!! Thank you for the birthday wishes and your kind words! I have plans to go to the book store and go out to eat with friends this weekend for my bday as a special treat!

I hope you're taking care and having a good night!

[lunamayisreading]

ALICE ROSSI, lead singer of Slayer! [@infamous-if OC]

Fun facts!

✮⋆˙ Alice is a proud born and raised argentinian!! (Her name was actually Alicia but she legally changed it to Alice.)

✮⋆˙ She insisted on the band somewhat matching styles (or a certain color palette at least) but after Seven left the band she just gave up on the concept.

✮⋆˙ After Seven left, she got pretty resentful towards the others and considered leaving herself but since she lost (whom she thought was at the time) the love of her life, she decided to make Slayer a sucess, no matter what. The band was all she had left.

✮⋆˙ Which doesn't mean she's attached to the band, necessarily. She won't think twice about going solo if the band ever breaks up.

✮⋆˙ Has written songs about Seven post-breakup but never even attempted to record one. She couldn't bring herself to show that wound to the world. Alice has gotten over Seven now but she wishes they could talk it out and get some closure.

✮⋆˙ Loves red and black and star motif on her clothes!

✮⋆˙ She feels like she's constantly putting on a performance, even with the band. (She admits to herself she can be a little fake, or two faced... but it's all for the band's sucess.)

✮⋆˙ Has the biggest crush on Orion and has been trying to make Orion give her a chance pretty much since they met. Whenever she's with Orion she feels herself relax a little and she wishes Orion would feel the same way.

✮⋆˙ Every year on her birthday she records a cover from one of her favorite songs and uploads it on her personal channel. The most viewed is Misery Business by Paramore.

I have so many thoughts about her but it would get too long lol. I am not normal about her and Orion (and this IF, tbh) at all!!!

[inkdrinkerworld]

something like ms.honey 2

cw: fluff, a bit of angst, mention of haley, flashback scene, friends to lovers, hotch being emotionally constipated

“I can’t do it,” you mutter on the phone and your friend sighs. 

“You most definitely can, don’t chicken out.” 

You really can’t, you cannot go on this date. It’ll be a waste of time and a waste of money. 

What you’d rather be doing is spending the day with your grumpy neighbour and his energetic eight year old who loves all things sweet just like you. 

Except, you’ve not seen them in five days. 

Aaron’s more than likely away on a case, and Jack’s with Jessica, but there’s not been a single text and you can feel dread setting it. 

You want to reach out, but that feels like more than an admission of worry and you’re not sure if you want to delve into what else it could be.

It’s a little mind numbing the way the Hotchner’s have wormed their way into every routine you have and now that they’re not part of it, it feels like something is missing. 

“I think I’m just gonna stay in and do class prep.” there’s a finality in your voice that makes your friend sigh. 

“Alright, just,” she takes a breath, “crack a bottle of red.”

You hang up after that, rifling through your cabinets for your craft stuff.

You’re teaching the kids about shapes and slightly about fractions, but you wanted it to be fun- so it required a sacrifice to your Saturday night. 

Construction paper in varying colours and Youtube tutorials were how you spent about three hours before your phone rang. 

Sighing, you slide ‘answer’ without even looking at the screen. 

“Hello?” there’s no answer on the line, just a crackle and a pop. 

“Hello?” you pull the phone away from your ear and see ‘AH.’ Frowning, you say a little frustratedly, “Aaron?” 

“It’s Jack,” there’s lots of whispering and you get nervous. “Daddy’s downstairs.”

“Are you okay, J?” you find yourself asking, standing and reaching for your keys. 

“Daddy’s friends from work are here.” you take a peek out your kitchen window, but see no cars at their house.

“Where baby?” your heart is hammering in your chest. 

“My old house, there was a problem.” 

“Can you get your dad on the phone?” you ask, ready to get in your car and over to Jack and Aaron. 

“I’m supposed to be sleeping,” he admits shyly and you laugh. “I miss you.” he says and you feel your heart swell. 

“I miss you too Jack,” god you wish you could hug his little body. “Is everything okay?” 

Jack sighs, “It was my mom’s birthday two days ago,” your heart breaks for Jack and Aaron.

Jack had told you about his mom’s funeral when he was over the last time Aaron had been away.

“Daddy was sad, and today Uncle Rossi came over because he made a mistake.” 

“It’s all good now though?” you ask and Jack says a little, ‘yeah,’ but he sounds sad. “Do you want me to stay on the phone till you fall asleep?” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. 

“Can we do a video?” he asks and you switch over immediately, finding Jack’s face smushed to his pillow. 

“You look so cozy,” you tell him and he smiles, a little blush taking over his face. “What story do you want?” you have a couple of his favourites still at the house. 

“Jungle book again, please.” 

You read only a couple chapters of the book before Jack falls asleep, the phone falling to the bed so you’re staring at the ceiling but you don’t mind it. 

You’re cleaning up your coffee table when you hear Jack’s door open. 

“Y/n?” It’s the first sign of trouble when Aaron says your name like that. 

You’re not sure what the trouble could be, but you know it’s unsettling and it makes your skin crawl just slightly. 

You curse yourself internally at that thought. 

Aaron doesn’t have to call you ‘sweetheart’ every time, friends usually go by first names too. 

“Hey,” you say, and there’s a sort of awkward silence that fills the space. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for him to keep the phone, he sounded so sad and fell asleep.” Aaron just shakes his head. 

“It’s fine Y/n, it’s been a tough week for him.” it grates on your nerves the way he’s determined to only call you your name, but you nod as Aaron speaks, packing your crafts into your sticker folder and sliding it into your tote bag. 

There’s something weird with him. 

“Jack said you’d been sad.” you mumble before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, sorry.”

Aaron laughs and shakes his head. “He likes you,” he says and you smile bashfully. “But yeah, I was. I’m better now though, swear.” 

You eye him skeptically, but nod anyway. 

“Rossi says I’ve made a mistake.” Aaron says unexpectedly. Your eyebrows knit as you wait for him to continue, “Coming back to the house.”

Aaron doesn’t know why he’s saying all this, truly. It’s frightening the way he opens up to you without even thinking. 

He wants to add, ‘and being away from you,’ but you cut him off before the words can slip from his lips.

“Do you think it is?” regardless of what his answer is, you’re planning on keeping your face neutral. 

“I’m not sure, it’s done some good, but I think mostly it’s made Jack emotional.” 

You can see the struggle plain on his face. He’s at war with himself, but you’re not sure why exactly. 

“Do what feels right for the two of you.” you say softly and he nods.

Seeing him and hearing that he wants to possibly stay at the house reminds you that they’d never been permanent, no matter what you had thought. 

It bubbles an anger that’s really embarrassment and it makes you feel gross, makes you feel wrong. 

Wrong for letting them into your routines, wrong for getting so used to them being in your space, wrong for your friendship turning into a crush. 

“I gotta go,” you say and Aaron nods. He can tell something’s wrong, but prying seems wrong. 

Everything seems wrong now. 

“Goodnight Y/n.” 

“Goodnight.” 

-

You go another week without the Hotchners but this time they’re home. In their house right across the street. 

Jack still waves at you from inside their gates, but he doesn’t come over and you hardly see Aaron. 

There’s something odd and it’s eating away at you. You hate the limbo of not knowing what’s going on, but you knew it was bound to happen after that phone call. 

You give Jack his ‘something sweet’ every week though, still giving him double the regular batch even if Aaron isn’t talking to you. 

Your week has been mostly the same routine, wake up, go to school, teach the kids. 

Except today. 

Everything’s been turned on its head since the moment you woke up.  

You’re late. And you’re never late, not even five minutes. 

Your alarm didn’t go off, and now you’re about to be an hour late for school because you haven’t had breakfast or showered yet. 

The only good thing is that you called in the moment you got up and let the school know you’d be late. Other than that? It’s been a shit show. 

As you step out the door, you see Aaron hovering by your gate. 

You’re only slightly disturbed by his presence, especially the beard he’s grown. “Is something wrong?” you ask as you lock your door. 

“You’re still here.” he’s got an almost relieved tone to his voice. 

“I’m late,” you explain softly and he nods, stepping back as you open your gate. “Are you sure nothings wrong?” 

Aaron never grows a beard, and he never comes over in the morning even when you were talking. 

Sure you being late is uncharacteristic, but it doesn’t warrant a visit from him- especially after all this time.

“You haven’t called me ‘Aaron’ in almost two weeks.” he grimaces after the words leave him like he wasn’t supposed to say anything. 

“You haven’t spoken to me in almost two weeks.” you counter as you reach your car. “I’m not doing this right now, you have your reasons fine whatever. I have to get to work.” 

You’ve never been this cursory with him ever, and it stings, but Aaron nods. 

Your day doesn’t brighten much from there. The kids are all a bit restless and teaching fractions doesn’t go as smoothly as you’d have liked, but they’re understanding the differences a lot better now. 

You don’t force it on them after lunch though. 

Instead, you let them go over their writing and reading and help them make crafts till the last bell. 

Aaron’s outside waiting for you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. 

Sure you missed him, but like this, he’s two steps away from making your bad day worse. 

“Come pick up Jack with me? He hasn’t seen me for the day.” you want to ask why, but you don’t want to be reinvited into their lives like this. 

“Aaron,” you want to tell him no. You want to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, to pretend you don’t exist because it was so easy for him over the last two weeks. 

But there’s something about the way his shoulders drop and relax as you say his name that has you caving. Something about that Aaron Hotchner smile, that’s not even a smile that wins you over. 

“Fine.” 

He knows using Jack to force the two of you together is wrong, but after Rossi and Reid grilling him, he wants to make amends. 

“You stopped speaking to her?” David is livid. He knows exactly why Aaron had stopped speaking to you but he hates that he’s allowed his worry to rule him again. 

“Hotch, she was nice.” Spencer chimes and Aaron rolls his eyes and sucks at his teeth. 

“None of you have met her!” he hisses and Spencer shrugs. 

“Jack talks,” is all Reid says and David nods. 

“Yeah, the kid’s practically in love with her. He even shared some of that chocolate babka she made for you, she’s got a good hand for it.” Rossi says and Aaron smiles despite it all. 

Rossi wants to tease him, but the smile has something sad about it.

“That’s why it can’t go on Dave, she’s someone to lose now.” 

David and Spencer sigh and lean forward at the round table.

“And you pushing her away is what? Keeping him from losing her? It’s premature even for you, Hotch.” Rossi’s words are weighted, but it’s Spencer that gets to him. 

“Jack’s going to lose her twice, once as his friend and then again as his neighbour. When she realizes you’re done with whatever it is you had, she’s going to leave Jack alone to avoid you.” 

There’s an implied, ‘and it’ll be your fault,’ that Spencer politely refuses to add verbally. 

The words had been swimming around his head all week but he didn’t know how to approach you about it to apologise. 

“Did you drive here?” you ask as you reach your car, looking up at Aaron to see him shake his head. 

“No, um, Spencer dropped me off.” you nod though you have no clue who this ‘Spencer’ is. 

“Get in,” you mutter, sliding into the front seat and starting the car.

The ride is mostly silent and uncomfortable. 

It’s stifling that the two of you are this silent but clearly have something to say. 

It’s causing a stress knot at the back of your neck now that you think about it. 

“Can you just say whatever it is you want to? The tension is ridiculous.” you murmur, eyes darting between Aaron and the road. 

He feels gross all over at the way you’ve dismissed him even while speaking to him- but Aaron knows he’s deserved this. 

“I’m sorry.” he starts and you frown. “For being distant, and for not coming over. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” he says softly, almost like he’s ashamed of his actions. 

“That’s not why I was upset,” you reply, pulling into the parking lot of Jack’s school. “You stopped being my friend. You put distance between us when you went back to your old house, and I didn’t know why. Then when you came home you couldn’t even look at me and say, ‘We can’t be friends anymore’ you just shut me out.” 

There’s a long silence in the car as Aaron tries to pick his next few words and you feel like you probably should’ve never said anything to begin with. 

“We’ll talk later,” he says as the children start rushing out. 

You stay in the car while Aaron gets Jack and sigh. Your forehead is pressed against the steering wheel when the back door opens and a rowdy Jack pushes his face up to yours. 

“Y/n!” he screams, and you giggle despite yourself. 

“Inside voice Jack,” Aaron corrects softly and Jack nods, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“How was your day?” you ask as you pull out, content to give Jack all your attention if it means that you can avoid whatever is going on between you and his dad. 

“Can I come over?” Jack asks as you pull into the familiar road. “Dad?” he prompts when neither of you answer. 

Aaron only looks at you. 

“Uh yeah babe, but me and your dad have to talk, that okay?” Jack nods, unbuckling his seatbelt as you get out. 

“C’mon J,” you call, opening the door and letting him race in.

You set up the tv for him, ‘Little Einsteins’ playing as he sings along. You place a bottled water and a plate of cookies on the coffee table for him too, before turning to Aaron who’s leaning on your kitchen’s arch. 

You stare at him from the other side of the archway, waiting for him to speak. 

“I couldn’t,” he starts and you cross your arms. “I don’t do well with loss, it’s hard to let people in since Haley died- Jack’s mom.” 

God you wish you weren’t so emotional. You can feel tears pricking your eyes just at the mention of Jack’s mom.

“I don’t like putting him in a position where he can lose people. He wasn’t supposed to befriend you, neither of us were,” you nod. “but we did and it started to feel too good being around you.” 

You want to stop him, but Aaron bulldozes you and continues, “Things go wrong quickly when they start to feel good. There’s risks that come with being involved with any agent.” 

“I don’t think someone would attack me because we were friends Aaron,” you try to joke but he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t even do his little eyebrow quirk and it makes you nervous. 

“Maybe not, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Anything could go wrong.”

“Anything could go wrong in friendships that don’t involve agents.” is your counter.

You push off the archway when your brain catches up, “Wait, did you say, ‘didn’t’?” you’re closing the distance between you. 

He smiles a little then, only the tip of his smile going up but you see it. 

“A couple friends told me I was being premature, in putting distance between us. They also reminded me I was more than capable of keeping people safe.” 

You can’t help but smile, “And?”

Aaron’s not off the hook, that much he can tell. 

He can also tell that you’re giving in. 

“And, I wanted to stop being an ass and I really really missed coming over.” 

You shake your head, “What if I didn’t want us to be friends again?” 

Aaron pauses for a moment, it’s long and pregnant and it makes you nibble on your lip when you catch onto what he’s thinking, but then he gives you a proper smile this time, “Then I’d go ask Jack to convince you to give us another shot with you.” 

“Oh that’s mean,” you mumble and Aaron nods, the toes of your shoes touching now. 

“Alright, fine, since you’ve really pulled my leg, I’ll be your friend again Aaron Hotchner.” you say dramatically and he laughs. 

“Good, because I really did miss you. More than Jack.” he whispers the last part and you scoff. 

“Oh that’s not true, Jack called me.” you say and Aaron’s eyebrows knit together. 

“After we came back?” he asks softly and you nod. 

“Three times a week from the landline.” The boy in question comes running into the kitchen, an empty plate of cookies in his hand. 

“Thanks Y/n,” you take the plate from him, and as soon as his hands are empty he hugs your legs. “Missed you.” he says and you ruffle his hair. 

Aaron feels his heart break at the fact that his son had missed you so much, he called you on the house phone. Reid was right, he’d have made Jack lose you twice. He almost did. 

“C’mon babe,” you lift Jack to your hip, “Let’s choose something to bake for tomorrow.” 

Aaron watches as you go for your cookbook, sitting Jack on the countertop as you both flip through the desserts section. 

-

You all fall into your regular routine after a couple weeks, Jack coming over on a Friday for his ‘something sweet’ and to give you all the details of his week. 

Aaron never stays long these days, hard cases that’s mainly long hours but he pops in every night just before you go to bed. 

Like tonight, Jack’s still with you, not awake but asleep in your lap, and Aaron knocks on your door. 

“Shit,” you mumble, lifting Jack’s head and placing it on a cushion.

“Y/n,” he whines and you pout, kissing his head before jogging off to the door. 

“You have to get your own keys,” you say to Aaron, finding him in just his suit shirt, tie and jacket gone. “He fell asleep.” 

Aaron shakes his head as he steps in, noticing both you and Jack in your pyjamas as he flicks your locks. 

“It’s not even eight thirty, what did you get up to?” 

You don’t say a word, but gesture to the coffee table and then to the kitchen. 

The coffee table is covered in paper dinosaurs, all in varying colours and species, and the kitchen has multiple tupperware bowls, some with food and others with sweets. 

“You’re weak sweetheart,” he chuckles and you shrug.

“He’s nice, and we had fun. Jack pays in compliments and kisses, what’s better than that?” Aaron sits where you had been, raising Jack’s head so it lays in his lap, and pats his free side.

“You shouldn’t be working on crafts on the weekend,” Aaron whispers but you frown. “You should be relaxing.” 

You suck at your teeth, “We did relax! We made dinner together and we baked brownies and then we made dinosaurs.”

He just nods, but Aaron wishes he had the time to actually let you relax.

He wishes that he could have a weekend off to take you and Jack someplace where you don’t have to entertain. 

There’s a contemplative look on his face that makes his eyebrows scrunch together and his lips purse - you don’t like it even a little bit. 

“You’re being weird Aaron.” you say as you reach and smooth the wrinkles in his eyebrows. 

“I’ve never been weird,” you giggle softly but don’t say anything and it makes Aaron shake his head. “I’m thinking.” 

You pull back from him, “Aaron, please, don’t hurt yourself.” he pushes at your shoulder when you laugh. 

“Something serious?” you ask, standing and moving to the kitchen. 

Aaron’s about to call out to you when he spots you walking back with a bowl of food and a fork. 

“It could be,” he says and he takes the things from you. You flick through the shows, settling on something easy as he eats. 

“Are you gonna tell me?” he shakes his head, crunching on a carrot. 

“Nah, not yet.” you huff but say nothing, content to just watch your show till Aaron’s ready to leave. 

Except, you fall asleep in his lap as well, and he can’t move. He doesn’t mind, not a bit but he does shift a little so he can lay down too with you and Jack on him. 

“Fucking perfect.” 

-

The next week is fast, the term is winding down for thanksgiving and then Christmas break. 

The kids have been good at the fractions and the shapes, a real change from the last couple of weeks and it makes you feel a teacher’s pride that’s ridiculous. 

“You guys are so smart!” you praise as you watch the class name each of the fractions with ease. 

Now they’re all eagerly telling you their plans for Thanksgiving, and what their parents are going to be making while you’re in circle time. 

“Miss Y/n?” Ben raises his hand as you walk around the room. 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you do for Thanksgiving?” the class all nod at his question and you smile. 

“Uh, well my family and I never really celebrated it. We did the big lunch and dinner for Christmas.”

Another hand goes up and you point to the girl, Lyn, “Will you be alone then?” 

They all know you’re not from Virginia. 

“Maybe, or maybe I’ll spend it with my neighbours.” you haven’t really spoken of it with Aaron and Jack, but if you have to spend it alone it won’t be as bad as it used to be. 

“I hope you do,” Lyn says and you smile. 

“Thank you Lyn.” 

On your drive home, you think about Thanksgiving and what you’ll do for it, but everything feels too much. It feels weird thinking about doing something when you usually do nothing. 

“Y/n!” Jack’s waiting outside your door with Aaron, who has to hold his son’s hand so he doesn’t run over to the car. 

“Jack,” you greet and he tugs on your fingers. “What’s wrong baby?” 

Aaron comes down to take your keys from you.

“We’re going out,” Aaron says and you frown. 

“Where?” you ask and Jack beams. 

“Our favourite!” Jack giggles madly and you shake your head. 

“Never been.” you say and Aaron smiles. He unlocks your door and watches you and Jack go in before getting in himself. 

“That’s even better. We’ll wait for you. It’s not formal. Reservation is for 7.” 

Aaron can tell you want to say something, but you don’t. You just make your way to your staircase. 

“Y/n, can I have more cookies?” Jack asks and you nod to Aaron. 

“If your dad says it’s okay before dinner.” 

You don’t stick around to hear whether or not Aaron allows him. 

You come back down and Aaron sees you first. Without his conscious consent his belly fills with butterflies and his nerves frazzle. 

You’re in a long, blue and orange skirt and a white t-shirt.

Your hair’s been let down, ringlets of loose curls hanging down your back, your glasses replaced with another pair that matches better. 

“I’m ready,” you say, watching Jack and Aaron share a cookie as you grab your purse. 

“Leave it.” Aaron says softly, offering you a cookie in turn. “You look beautiful.” he compliments and you smile as you pluck the cookie from his hands. 

“So pretty,” Jack says as he touches the colours on your skirt. “Like a princess or a fairy!” 

“You’re both flirts,” is the only thing you can say, trying to tamper your embarrassment from their attention. 

Dinner is easy, conversation mostly abstract. 

“What about if you combined the two, a brownie and a cake,” Jack says as they bring dessert out. Aaron had the good sense to get everyone their own hot brownie with ice cream. “A crownie!” he names it excitedly and you giggle. 

“We could try babe,” you say and Jack nods, leaning forward and licking the vanilla ice cream on his brownie. 

“It’s hot so don’t touch the pan.” you say and he nods. He’s been beside you all evening, much to Aaron’s amusement yet he can’t help the way he notices Jack has been wanting you more and more. 

It’s painfully obvious now how much his son had missed you, and for a moment he feels a sharp stab of dad guilt right to his gut. 

“Aaron, your ice cream is gonna melt and then me and Jack are gonna have your entire plate.” you threaten, Aaron’s eyes widening as he notices the chocolate stains around his son’s mouth and the nearly gone brownie. 

“Yeah dad, eat up or pay up.” 

Your laugh is loud at the little Hotchner’s threat. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Aaron says, digging into his brownie before you and Jack team up against him. He still manages to save about half the brownie for the ride home. 

The bill comes and you reach for it when Aaron shakes his head. 

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” It's cruel of him to say it so sweetly and reverently as he fishes his card out of his wallet. 

It makes you stumble, and allows him the advantage of paying without another complaint. 

Jack knocks out about twenty minutes into the drive back to your house, and from the quiet that surrounds the car you’re tired too. 

“You can sleep y’know,” Aaron says as he glances over at you. 

You shake your head, defiant, “And leave you up by yourself? Don’t think so.” 

He keeps you talking for a little while, before glancing at you and finding your cheek tucked to your shoulder, and your eyes dropping closed. 

“Sleep, sweetheart.” he says softly, hand reaching for your cheek. 

“Don’t want you to be bored,” you slur and he chuckles. 

“Won’t be, promise.” your eyes don’t stay open long after that, certainly not when Aaron keeps stroking your face. 

The drive lasts another half hour, you and Jack out like lights. 

When he pulls up to your house he grabs your keys from the cup holder. 

Aaron’s meticulous as he opens the door and clears the couch so there’s space to place Jack. 

The little boy doesn’t rouse, Aaron having perfected the art of transporting a sleeping toddler over the years. 

He comes back for you, unbuckling your seatbelt and stroking your arm.

“We’re home sweetheart,” he whispers, watching you turn to where his voice is coming from. “Want me to carry you?” he’s gonna do it unless you say ‘no.’ 

“I can walk,” you’re groggy, but he moves to let you hop out of the SUV on your own. 

Aaron stays behind you though, hand on your back as you walk inside. You stretch and yawn when you’re inside and Aaron smiles. 

“Want some tea?” you ask and he shakes his head, he watches you make yours though. 

“Thanks for dinner, Aaron.” you say as you hold your mug, taking a scalding sip that makes you hiss. 

“Don’t do that,” he says and you frown. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks and you brighten. 

Aaron never has the weekends off. Ever. 

“You didn’t say you had the weekend off!” you all but scream and he laughs, reaching for your mug as you rush around to his side of the kitchen island. 

“I have the day off,” he amends and you nod, sitting halfway in his lap till he tugs you up properly. 

“And you want me to spend it with you and Jack?” he nods, handing over the tea when you’re comfortable. 

You don’t think hard about his hand falling to your waist to keep you still as he answers you. 

“Mhm, Jack wants to go to a book fair.” he elaborates and you nod. “Are you free?”

“So free! But I have to be back in time to go to the farmer’s market.” 

Aaron nods, lodging his chin on your shoulder as you sip the tea. He can do with a day of just you and Jack and nothing else. 

[lovealexhunt]

"Thank you" doesn't feel like enough, but thank you!!!

I truly am grateful to each and every one who reached out during my birthday to send kind words and wishes. Whether it was an ask, an edit, art, or something else, I treasure each and every one of you for taking the time to make my day a little brighter. My birthday and the days surrounding it are always challenging for me. I struggle with mental health all year, but birthday depression is some of the worst. I don't have many people in my real life that celebrate with me so having this fandom is beyond a blessing. I can't thank you all enough for your kindness! It means more than I can say!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart! I am so touched by your kindness and generosity!

💖 dani

A Birthday Masterlist for me because I like to reread and treasure your words when I'm having a bad day.

Art Gifts:

Alex Spencer by @aallotarenunelma

Astraea Callen by @lilyoffandoms

Callista Rossi by @lilyoffandoms

Daenarya Plushie by @cadybear420

Ellie Shepherd by @lilyoffandoms

Emilia Charles by @lilyoffandoms

Iliana Volari by @lilyoffandoms

Justin x Mari by @lilyoffandoms

Olivia by @aallotarenunelma

Moodboard

Daenarya by @dutifullynuttywitch

Olivia by @lorircreates

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Again, I can't thank you all enough. Without you, I wouldn't have gotten through this time. You all brought me some light in the darkness some moments of joy and things to make me smile. I am eternally grateful to you!

[jqmalikhsgib]

quest

twelve

aaron was currently headed back to his office to finish up paperwork. they had just solved another case. the unsub had quite the cooling off period.

he was beyond exhausted. but he wanted to at least get started on the workload of paper work before heading home.

the rest of the team following behind him. they knew it was no use going home. they all had a feeling another case was coming. most likely because they’ve received one after the other just this week.

when aaron walks into his office he spots penelope, his wife, and his children. this brought a bit of a smile to his face.

“what’s this?”

“happy birthday!” aaron turns and spots his team. he laughs when he sees a stack of cupcakes. derek lights up the candle on top of the cupcake tower.

“make a wish, sir!” penelope states.

aaron laughs as he blows out his candle and gently kisses his wife.

“thought you deserved a nice surprise, hotch!”

“and a little bit of a break boss man. im willing to stay behind and take half of your paperwork.” derek tells him.

“same here. anything you need.” dave states.

“i appreciate that, but—”

“no buts! you deserve to go home, spend time with your kids, take a load off, maybe make another hotchner baby!” rossi finished. you blush at the insinuation.

you and aaron were still taking things slow. but that didn’t mean that heavy petting wasn’t involved. still, you’re both extremely frustrated.

“happy birthday, dad.” jack smiles at his father. aaron kisses the top of his head as he picks up his youngest son.

“did all this for papa, huh?”

theo nods. resting his head on his fathers shoulders.

he was the only one that called aaron papa. but aaron loved it. felt like they had their own little bond. he had different bonds with all his kids. he couldn’t wait to have more. which is something that the two of you needed to discuss. if anything dave just pushed him into wanting to start that conversation sooner than later.

“alright, i guess ill head home then. are you two sure you’re—”

“yes! now go!” derek chuckled. aaron nods as he grabs his family and heads out.

later that night, the kids are asleep, and you and aaron are getting ready for bed yourselves. aaron gets on his side of the bed.

you gently rest your head on his chest once he’s situated. he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight.

“darling?”

you simply hum in response.

“have you ever thought about more kids?”

it falls silent for a while. he nervously bites his bottom lip. you gently sigh. “yeah, i have.”

“and?”

“i—i always wanted a big family aaron. you know this. i just—i had a very complicated pregnancy with the triplets. im scared of going through that again.”

“i understand. have you thought about surrogacy?”

“i have. but if im gonna have another baby i wanna at least try myself you know? i—i know it sounds selfish but—i want you there next time. to be with me every step of the way.”

aaron smiles at that. he felt the same way. part of him wanting to have another baby to be present during it all. the mood swings, the labor, the early mornings, the first times—crawling, walking, teething— all of it!

“i want that too, yn.”

“so, one more wouldn’t hurt?”

“or two?”

you scoff at that. aaron just laughs before kissing the top of your head.

“when we’re ready? maybe we can try then?”

“id like that.” aaron states.

“goodnight aaron.”

“goodnight, yn.”

if you wanna be added or unadded to the taglist let me know

taglist:

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