#but instead we have to watch this side story about the FBI that has nothing to do with either of the character's jobs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

asdfghjklmals · 1 year ago

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MILESTONES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 6.0k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple. a lil' jealous!oc.

SYNOPSIS: a compilation of short stories about the stages of pregnancy with oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. AUTHOR'S NOTE: please make sure to read 'accidents' before milestones. i couldn't have you guys miss out on oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey. it was so fun to write this. a lot of research went into the baby gojo chronicles, i honestly think my fbi agent thinks i'm pregnant. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

8 weeks: the first pre-natal appointment

it has been two weeks since you and satoru decided that you were going to keep the baby. this week was your first pre-natal appointment to "meet" baby gojo. you couldn't tell who was more nervous, you or satoru.

during your appointment, satoru sat in the exam room as the nurse drew your blood to perform tests and to confirm the pregnancy. the nurse also performed a pap smear, which freaked satoru out after he saw what a speculum looked like. he said it looked like a 'torture chamber tool' and you wholeheartedly agreed with him.

you exchanged soft smiles with satoru multiple times throughout your appointment. satoru was engrossed with the entire process. his curiousness was adorable in your eyes as he asked your nurse questions about all the procedures and tests she was performing. about an hour later after receiving the results of your blood tests, your doctor entered the room.

“well, first things first, congratulations on your pregnancy (y/n)! your blood test came back positive with hcg.” your doctor began, “now let’s talk about some upcoming lifestyle changes you'll have to make.”

“wait, when do we get to see the baby?” satoru interrupted. you glared at him, dark green eyes telling him ‘shut up, satoru’.

“we’ll perform the ultrasound after this, satoru.” your doctor chimed. “(y/n), i want you to start taking a pre-natal. stop eating raw fish, deli meats, and eat thoroughly cooked meats for now.”

you blinked twice. that meant no sushi for you. your heart sank a little. satoru noticed the disappointment shift in your mood. he felt a little guilty.

"so that's why you had me cook your steak well-done..." satoru whispered to himself. you scoffed at his sudden realization from two weeks ago. (read ‘accidents’ here)

“do you or satoru have any pre-existing medical conditions in either families?”

“no. but he might be pre-diabetic by the time he’s 40.” you snorted.

satoru chuckled and reported back, “there’s nothing on my side of the family to note.”

“that’s great to hear. just be aware of gestational diabetes, (y/n). i know you love your chocolate ice cream so watch your intake.” your doctor typed some notes in your patient profile, “your due date is looking close to october 14th. any other questions?”

“can the baby come earlier?” satoru quickly asked.

your doctor smiled at the both of you, “i wouldn’t necessary call it early, but babies are considered full term at 37 weeks. it would be good for the baby to be born around or after that time.”

“uhm, do you think i’ll be able to give birth vaginally?” you asked next. your sister-in-law had to have c-sections, so that worried you. her recovery was a journey for her and honestly, it scared you. but you were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure baby gojo arrived safely.

“as long as there aren’t any complications, of course. we can plan on that. we'll just have to monitor how your pregnancy is going.” your doctor picked up on yours and satoru’s quiet and awkward social queues, "and yes, you can still have sex while you're pregnant.

"oh, thank god." satoru sighed in relief as you smacked him with the back of your hand. he was so embarrassing.

"please, just ignore him." you looked at your doctor, cheeks cherry red.

she laughed and asked the most important question of the day, “are you guys ready to meet your baby?”

you nodded your head and giggled, “yes. i think satoru’s more excited than i am. he won't shut up about it.”

“i’ve been waiting two weeks for this moment.” satoru said with a sheepish smile, his hand scratching the back of his fresh undercut. his blue eyes peeking through from his sunglasses.

“okay, let’s get started then.” your doctor announced while snapping on her sterile gloves. “we’ll be performing a transabdominal ultrasound today, nothing painful.”

she squeezed a handful of gel to apply to your belly. you jumped in your seat.

“are you okay?” satoru asked, concerned at your sudden movement.

you reassured him, “yeah, the gel is just cold.”

your doctor laughed in amusement and started to rub the wand around your abdomen. you heard a fast thumping noise.

“is that the heartbeat?” you wondered, looking at the black and white screen. satoru smiled from ear-to-ear as he cupped his cheek in his right hand, his left hand squeezing yours. hearing his baby’s heartbeat might take the cake for one of his favorite sounds in the world, next to your laugh.

your doctor reported back, “yup. a healthy 138 bpm. i’m gonna take some pictures now…”

you saw a tiny circle in the middle of the monitor as your doctor clicked away on her computer mouse.

“is that the baby?” satoru asked, squinting at the monitor.

“yes. you see the little image that looks like a bean?” she clicked again, “it’s about half an inch… that’s your baby.”

“it’s so cute. how tiny. a baby bean…” you gushed. you turned to look at satoru. he was itching his eyes.

“satoru gojo, are you crying?” you asked in disbelief.

he quickly defended himself, avoiding all eye contact with you. “no! something just got in my eye.”

he was such a liar. his infinity would never allow anything to touch his precious six eyes.

your doctor laughed at the sweet moment between the two of you. you watched the love of your life stare at the black and white screen in amazement. your heart felt like it was going to burst watching him. you wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

12 weeks: surprise! we’re pregnant!

it was so hard for you and satoru to keep your pregnancy a secret for the past 6 weeks. the only two people who knew you were pregnant were shoko and megumi.

your doctor had advised you to wait until the end of your first trimester to announce your pregnancy because of the risk of miscarriage. once you made it past the first trimester, you thought about how you were going to tell everyone. of course, you and satoru wanted it to be a surprise. an imaginary lightbulb lit above your head.

“babe, i have an idea.” you said excitedly, grabbing satoru’s arm as he was looking through your office drawers for something sweet to snack on.

“hmmm. what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as he unwrapped a piece of chocolate. you always kept a stash of satoru's favorite chocolates in your desk for him because he loved to hide in your office and avoid his sensei duties.

“you know how we usually take a group picture with the faculty, students, and sister school every year? let's tell principal yaga to schedule it early this year.”

“oh, i like where this is going.” satoru laughed. he read your mind. you high-fived him. he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. couples’ telepathy was really a thing.

*********************************

“and why do we have to be here?” maki complained as she folded her arms. she wanted to train, not take a silly picture.

“come on, maki! it’s tradition to get a picture of all the students and faculty. it’s just that we’re taking the picture earlier than usual this year.” panda said as he patted her back.

“even okkotsu came back from his training to be in the picture. my sister flew in just to be in it too.” megumi said as he watched yuta interact with the students from kyoto. tsumiki was attached to your hip. megumi already knew the real reason why the picture was scheduled so early in the school year and why tsumiki was asked to be in the picture.

“alright! everyone looks great.” yuji cheered as he walked to his assigned spot for the group picture.

principal yaga gathered everyone, “please make your way to the field and get into your assigned spots. satoru will be pressing the button for the camera since he can teleport to his spot quickly.”

you nervously watched as all the students and jujutsu high faculty made their way to their spots, getting ready for the picture.

“okay everyone!” satoru shouted as he prepared himself to teleport next to you and megumi, “i’m pressing the timer!”

satoru appeared by your side as the 10 second timer ticked. satoru sneakily pressed record instead taking of a picture. “everyone say ‘(y/n)-sensei’s pregnant’!”

everyone stopped to look at you and satoru in confusion.

“what?”

“what did he say?”

“huh?!”

“(y/n)-sensei… is pregnant?!”

“wait what?”

“holy shit, (y/n)-sensei is pregnant!”

after a few seconds of questioning, everyone realized what had just happened. you had just announced your pregnancy.

in that moment, you were tackled by tsumiki, megumi, yuji, nobara, and yuta as they cheered around you in a group hug. ijichi, akari, principal yaga, nanami, ino, mei, utahime and shoko were all congratulating satoru. they took turns speaking with the both of you, giving you well wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy.

“congrats, (y/n)-sensei.” maki said with a soft smile, embarrassed she complained about being here. she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

panda added, “yes, congratulations! we’re excited to see you and satoru become parents.”

“salmon, salmon!” toge congratulated you in his own words.

“thanks everyone. if you guys aren’t busy, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner tonight at splendid sushi. satoru’s treat.” you winked.

“hey! i heard that!” satoru shouted at you from across the field as he grinned. both you and satoru were thrilled to see everyone’s excitement on the news of baby gojo.

*********************************

“are you nervous to tell my brother you knocked up his little sister?” you teased satoru. you kissed his cheek as he brushed the loose strands of black hair behind your ear.

“nah, i’m sure he wants nieces and nephews for his kids. plus, it was an accident.” he joked as he drummed his fingers on the restaurant table. you and satoru people-watched through the restaurant window, waiting for touya and his wife. (a/n: yeah, touya is married with 2 kids now. his wife’s name is hana. a non-sorcerer. maybe i'll write a wedding fic.)

you smiled as you saw your brother walk into the restaurant, holding the door open for hana. touya’s black hair and golden-yellow eyes beamed when he saw you satoru.

“satoru! how have you been, bro?!” touya greeted his self-proclaimed brother, pulling him in for a bro hug.

“i can’t believe he hugged satoru first.” you looked at hana in disbelief as she giggled, hugging you instead.

“they really are bestfriends now.” hana realized as she sat across from you.

satoru sat back down in his seat next to you, touya sitting across from him. “glad you guys could have lunch with us. it’s been awhile.”

“we have a gift for you guys! a souvenir from our last trip.” you lied to your brother and sister-in-law. you pushed a card and white box towards them.

“open it. it’s special, made especially for you.” satoru urged, touya and hana taking the card to open first.

“what do you get a brother who already has everything?” touya read out loud. hana curiously reading along with him. satoru placed his hand on your thigh. the both of you were grinning from ear-to-ear watching the two open the box. they pulled out a beige baby onesie.

touya read the text on the onesie, “how about the title uncle and auntie…?”

after putting 2+2 together, touya hid his face with his hands, both him and hana were so happy for you and satoru. your eyes started to water watching them. a tearful laugh came out of you.

“congratulations, you two. my baby sis is having a baby...” touya said as he got up to embrace you.

you hugged him tighter, “thanks, touya…” you softly said. the warmth of your brother's love and support making you extremely emotional. these pregnancy hormones were out. of. control.

18 weeks: an important question

"aren't you curious to what the gender is?" shoko asked you and satoru. you asked shoko to join you two for lunch today because you had an important question to ask the amber-eyed doctor in regards to your unborn child.

you took a bite of your chicken katsu before answering, "of course we are. but we decided not to find out because we want it to be a surprise."

“what do you want it to be? a boy or girl?”

“it doesn’t matter. as long as baby gojo is healthy.” satoru stereotypically said as he stretched his arm to rest over your shoulder. he secretly wanted a girl.

you added, “we raised megumi and tsumiki. we already experienced the best of both worlds. so i’m not picky.”

“i guess i’m just being selfish because i want to know the gender.” shoko laughed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

“oh! shoko, we have a present for you.” you said as you put down your chopsticks. you turned to satoru and he grabbed another white box with a card attached do it, similar to the one you gave touya and hana.

“it better be the gender of your baby.” she laughed as she took the present from satoru.

“it’s something even better.” satoru said with his signature shit-eating grin.

shoko opened the card, reading it out loud, “i need an extra pair of hands to help me learn and grow… i know that yours will be the best because mommy and daddy told me so…?” she looked at the card, confused.

you asked her clearly while trying not to laugh, “shoko, will you be baby gojo’s godmother?”

shoko stared at both you and satoru after she realized what you had just asked of her. she started to chuckle as she got out of her seat to hug you. “of course, i will. hopefully your baby won’t grow up to be a little shit like satoru.” she said as she punched the white-haired sorcerer in the arm, satoru completely letting her bypass his infinity to do so.

“there’s another gift in there.” satoru added, pointing at the giant glass.

shoko picked up the pint glass and read the etching, “you drink too much. you smoke too much. and you cheated on your medical exam. we can’t think of anyone more suitable to be baby gojo’s godmother.”

shoko laughed, “okay, this might have been better than finding out the gender of your baby.”

26 weeks: baby gojo’s first (external) kick

megumi came home this weekend to spend time with you, satoru, and tsumiki. normally, he would be spending his free time exploring japan with nobara and yuji, but since you were pregnant and tsumiki was back for her semester break from her study abroad program, he wanted to spend his free time with his family.

you were in the kitchen with tsumiki making dinner while satoru and megumi sat around the living room with his demon dogs, shiro and kuro. catoru was lounging in their cat scratch post and your spirit birds were out on the patio enjoying the weather. you didn’t realize how zoo-like your home was until now... and that wasn't even including all of megumi's shikigami either.

while chopping vegetables, tsumiki updated you on her high school adventures abroad. ever since she started at e.f. academy, she has been non-stop on-the-go with extracurricular activities. she told you about her latest projects, how the weather was in california, about all the friends she made, and even the boy she had a small crush on. (read 'wherever you are' here)

on the couch, megumi spoke with satoru about his shikigami and how he’s been able to tame a majority of them now. this was the first time in awhile those two haven’t bickered in your presence, and it was a sight to behold.

you rested your hands on your belly as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, listening to your sweet teenager talk about how cute her crush was. you reminisced about your time in high school, how you thought satoru was a complete asshole when you first met him, and how his good looks and horrible personality made up for it. if your 18 year old self could see you now, she wouldn’t believe the sight. (read 'love at first fight' here)

you felt a little tap against your hands. “huh?” you said out loud, realizing what you just felt on your hands.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” tsumiki asked as she put down the chopping knife. satoru and megumi turned around from the couch, all the attention was on you.

“i think baby gojo just kicked my hand.” you announced. only you were able to feel baby gojo kick internally for the past couple weeks, but now, you thought that satoru and the kids would be able to actually feel the kicks from the outside too.

“hurry, come over here!” you said frantically, hoping baby gojo would kick again. satoru dramatically teleported beside you as megumi hopped over the couch ledge to race over to the kitchen, kuro and shiro following him.

you took all three of their hands and placed it on your belly where you thought baby gojo was. the demon dogs sniffed around you, their tails wagging happily. you pursed your lips, waiting for another kick. you felt kuro and shiro licking your hands.

and there it was. another gentle kick from baby gojo.

“i felt it!” tsumiki cheered as she jumped around the kitchen. her bright smile lighting up the room.

satoru hugged you from behind. you both smiled while watching tsumiki and megumi. megumi looked at his hand, and then back at your stomach.

“did you feel it, megumi?” you asked him with a smile.

“yeah, i did.” he said softly. “that was pretty cool.”

“what about you, daddy?” you grinned as you asked satoru.

megumi gagged at satoru’s new title, “gross. i’m leaving.”

you and satoru watched as your moody teenager made his way back to the couch, tsumiki’s attention back on chopping vegetables. satoru’s arms were still wrapped around you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. baby gojo kicked once more.

“i think baby gojo is saying ‘let go of us so mommy can finish cooking’.” you giggled as you turned around to face the white haired sorcerer. you caressed his cheek with your palm. he snuck two kisses on your neck.

“fine… but i expect some alone time later.” he winked at you before kissing the palm of your hand.

you laughed, “sorry, babe, the kids are home this weekend, plus you get me all to yourself next week when we go to mexico for our baby moon.”

30 weeks: a first time parents' class

"babe, get ready. i signed us up for a class."

"what kind of class? it better not be another ‘how to have sex while pregnant’ class." you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous class that satoru signed you up for at the beginning of your pregnancy. you sighed, your belly weighing you down on your very comfortable white couch that you would probably need satoru's help getting out of.

he grinned at you as he grabbed your purse and your shoes. "a first time parents class."

your doctor recommended that you and satoru waited until your third trimester to take a 'first time parent' class. the class would teach new parents about the different kinds of births, pain management strategies, what to do if and when your water breaks, how to time contractions, postpartum care, caring for the baby, and baby first aid.

“do we have to go?” you asked, “i’m tired.” feigning exhaustion as you put the back of your hand over your eyes and forehead.

“of course we have to go!” satoru exclaimed as he sat down next to you. he was always so excited whenever it came to anything related to baby gojo. he slipped on your white sneakers for you, swiftly tying your shoe laces bunny ear style as you sat up on your elbows. you caught yourself smiling at him. he was so doting. you could definitely get used to this.

satoru studied you. you weren't wearing any makeup today, but you had the radiant "pregnancy glow" that everyone talked about. you wore a beige dress under a white crop t-shirt that hugged your belly tightly. “you look beautiful, so no need to change or do your makeup.”

“you just don’t want to be late.” you laughed. this was the first time that satoru gojo was on time for anything.

*********************************

satoru teleported you both to the hospital in tokyo that you go to for your all your doctor appointments. apparently the hospital was hosting the class he signed up for. there were many pregnant women with their significant others, friends, mothers, and mother-in-laws sitting around the small auditorium.

as you entered the room, you heard gasps and whispers about satoru.

“wow! what a good looking guy!”

“he’s a total hottie!”

“that guy is gonna be a dilf for sure!”

“do you see the cutie with the white hair and blue eyes?!”

“where should we sit?” satoru asked as he held your hand. you looped your free arm around his bicep covetously, staking claim to your man as if your very pregnant belly didn't do so already.

“don’t pretend like you don’t hear all the women in this room talking about you.” you hissed at him as you sat down in a seat closer to the front of the auditorium. because this happened everywhere you went with satoru, normally it wouldn't bug you, but for some reason it did today.

“somebody’s a green eyed monster today.” he sang with a smug smile. it was his favorite analogy to use when you were jealous because your green eyes were so fitting. he sat down next to you, draping his left arm around your shoulder, his right elbow perched on the arm rest. after over a decade of being with you, he was unphased by comments from other women. he ate it all up in high school, but satoru gojo became a changed man once he met you.

“am not.” you said under your breath. you stayed quiet for a moment. “babe, i just think it’s funny how—”

satoru's left ear was saved as your 'i think it's funny how' rant was interrupted by the presenter, “good afternoon! and welcome to the first time parents class!”

even though you were jealous and didn’t like how all the other women in the auditorium were drooling over satoru, you couldn’t stay mad. throughout the years, satoru’s beautiful blue eyes have never strayed and he never made you feel unwanted, even when you argued or when you were being difficult and stubborn. he was never bothered by your jealously. you were the only person he chased after since the day he met you at jujutsu high.

throughout the class, satoru took notes on his phone and asked questions during the q&a. it was hard to stay mad at a man as dedicated and involved as satoru gojo. you decided to just ignore the women in the class, however, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t cling to satoru when the class ends.

*********************************

“so, what’d you think about the class?” satoru asked as he placed your go-to order of ice cream in front of you. he sat across from you as you glared at his sweet, handsome, smug face.

“it was fine. we learned a lot of information, don’t you think?” you deferred as you scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“yeah, and i learned that you still get jealous til’ this day.” satoru poked fun at you. “remember the first time i took you shopping in shibuya? you were soooo jealous of all the girls talking about me and you weren’t even my girlfriend at the time.” he laughed at the memory. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

you quipped back, “satoru, everyone knows that you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“true,” he agreed while taking a bite of your ice cream, “but it’s nice to see that side of you every once in awhile. what’s my baby gonna do when she’s not my number one anymore?” he mocked in a playful tone, shooting a bright toothy smile at you.

your emerald green eyes pierced his sapphire blue eyes. “what do you mean by that?”

“baby gojo is gonna be my number one.” satoru said nonchalantly, licking caramel off your spoon.

you took your ice cream away from him. holding the cup closer to you instead of putting it in the middle of the table to share.

satoru chastised you, “that’s not nice, sweetheart.”

“you’re insufferable, babe.” you rolled your eyes at him. “first, you let women drool all over you in front of me, then you tell me that i’m not your number one anymore. what’s next? you don’t love me either?”

“there you go with the theatrics.” satoru sighed, folding his arms. he wouldn't expect anything less from his life partner.

“i learned from the best teacher, i think his name was satoru gojo.” you winked at him.

"it's a good thing i love you." satoru said as he leaned over the table to kiss you on the lips. he tasted just like caramel.

32 weeks: nesting

"this fucking crib is going to be the death of me." satoru muttered under his breath as he struggled putting together the 'smart' crib that he bought. as soon as satoru found out you were pregnant, he spent a whole month researching cribs to decide which one he was going to buy for baby gojo. he decided on the most expensive one, thinking that it would be the best. rich people logic. this crib was called a 'snoo'.

"you didn't have to get such a high tech crib, babe." you said as you sat on the bed folding warm, freshly washed baby clothes and baby bedding for the snoo. you admired how cute and small the onesies were. because you and satoru didn't know the gender of your baby, you bought a lot of neutral colored clothing like beiges, tans, browns, and whites.

"my baby is going to have the best everything." satoru boasted. of course, baby gojo was going to be spoiled. they had you and satoru gojo as their parents.

during the past couple of weeks, you and satoru had bought a handful of important things that new parents would need for a newborn baby such as a crib, stroller, car seat, changing table dresser, and a comfortable lounging chair for your bedroom to put next to baby gojo's crib for the late night feeds.

satoru insisted that everything would be 'nuna' branded. the employee at his favorite department store convinced him after they mentioned that nuna was the "lamborghini of baby strollers and car seats." the matching stroller and car seat system was well over $1,000, you couldn't argue with satoru about how much he was spending because it would be hypocritical of you and your spending habits. so you let him get what he wanted.

after hours of setting up the snoo, putting together the baby stroller, installing the car seat, and building the dresser, satoru sighed, "what a long day." he crawled under the covers to meet you in bed, the back of his hand covering his face in exhaustion.

“it’s a good thing you could just use blue to move the lounge chair from the front door to the bedroom. you probably would've broke your back.” you teased him, knowing satoru gojo doesn’t do manual labor.

“the one easy part about today.” he complained.

while satoru took on his fatherly projects, you were able to deep clean the apartment, put baby clothes and diapers into the newly built dresser, add the clean bedding to the snoo, and re-organize all the drawers in the apartment. you were in the nesting stage of your pregnancy.

you turned to face him, your pregnancy pillow creating a divide between you and the exhausted sorcerer. he flattened your pregnancy pillow with his arm as you took his hand to lace your fingers with.

“you could’ve hired someone to build the snoo and the dresser, satoru.” you said to him, knowing that he normally would’ve.

“yeah, i know, but this is for my baby. i want to make sure everything is perfect.”

your heart melted at the fact that satoru was giving it his all to be involved. deep down, he wanted to be a good father and you could see that. you were proud of him.

"congrats, daddy. you just spent the day nesting with me." you smiled. you knew satoru secretly adored his new title.

the white haired sorcerer laughed, “what the hell is nesting? are we birds?”

“nesting is when couples get their home ready for the baby, satoru.”

“oh yeah? spending hours organizing drawers is nesting? because there’s nothing baby gojo will hate more than the junk drawer we have in the kitchen.” satoru teased.

you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance, “you have been saying for years that you’d clean out the junk drawer. i found crayons in there from when megumi was in elementary school. he's a high schooler now. it only took me getting knocked up for it to finally be clean.”

you turned your body away from satoru. he moved your pregnancy pillow so he could cling to you (and so that he could be the big spoon).

“i’m just kidding, babe.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder blade with his soft lips.

“uh huh. go to sleep, satoru.” you replied back to him, attempting to shut your eyes.

“so feisty…” satoru mumbled, still peppering soft kisses along your shoulder blade.

37 weeks: full term

"well... i can give birth at any time now." you said as you read your 'what to expect' app.

satoru placed his free hand on your stomach as he joined you on the white fluffy couch in your living room. you moved satoru's hand to where baby gojo was, using his hand to press firmly into your stomach.

he quickly pulled his hand away from you, afraid that he hurt you and baby gojo, "doesn't that hurt your stomach when you press that hard?" he asked.

"babe, no. give me your hand back. you'll be able to feel baby gojo's feet." you said, reaching for his hand that he reluctantly gave back to you. he leaned over to see what the hard feeling in your stomach was.

"that's baby gojo's feet?" he asked, amazed.

"yeah, baby gojo is literally killing me right now though." you said as you shifted uncomfortably. baby gojo liked to sleep in this position, making you lay on your left side more often.

satoru frowned, he knew you were uncomfortable now more than ever. "i'm sorry, babe."

you squinted at him, "what are you apologizing for?"

"for getting you pregnant."

you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you nuzzled your head on his chest. he pulled you closer to him, "don't apologize for that. apologize if i'm not able to get an epidural or something." you snickered as you looked up at him, "ready to read week 37?"

satoru nodded and kissed the top of your head as you laid against him.

"baby gojo is as big as a canary melon. estimating 19 inches, and 6 pounds. at 37 weeks, you're 9 months pregnant with the end in sight." you read out loud.

satoru took the phone from you to read his part, "at a glance, if baby gojo was born this week, they'd still be early term. baby gojo is practicing for their grand entrance by inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid, blinking, and turning from side to side. baby gojo can grab onto things now. baby gojo is likely to be sucking their thumb a lot these days in preparation for feeding sessions."

"it says babies grow about a pound a week. the average fetus weighs about 6 pounds. and that boys are likely to be heavier than girls." you read, "since it's a little crowded in your uterus now, baby gojo may not be kicking as much. instead, they're probably stretching, rolling and wiggling." you laughed because baby gojo was still kicking strong, sometimes it was painful, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the day.

satoru blue-eyes widened as he read the next paragraph, "here's an interesting fact. at birth, baby gojo's head, which is still growing, will be about the same circumference as their chest."

"i pray to god that baby gojo doesn't have your big head or my vagina is toast." you joked.

satoru glared at you, shaking his head while chuckling. he went back to read through some of the pregnancy symptoms. he noticed that you experienced a majority of the symptoms on the list: the pelvic pain, leg cramps, pregnancy brain, and insomnia.

because you were of small stature, you started experiencing more pressure on your pelvis as the weeks went by. sometimes satoru would hold up your belly for you with his infinity whenever you were close by, and you were thankful for such a helpful cursed technique.

before bed, satoru would feed you bananas and massage your legs to help with the leg cramps. with your breasts and stomach as big as they've ever been, you finally got your stretch marks. for the majority of your pregnancy you were stretch mark-free, they didn't appear until the third trimester. satoru liked to call them your 'tiger stripes' when he would help you apply stretch mark creams and oils to your body. him helping you apply those creams and oils was a form of intimacy you didn't know you needed during this time. satoru always knew how to make you feel confident again.

your pregnancy brain caused you to be a little forgetful, so the acrylic whiteboard in the kitchen was your bestfriend. you left little reminders on the board for yourself, satoru, and megumi throughout your pregnancy.

lastly, it was hard for you to sleep now that you were in the home stretch of your pregnancy. every sleeping position was uncomfortable, and you had to wake up multiple times a night to use the bathroom. you never got a consistent amount of sleep.

even though being pregnant was uncomfortable, you experienced some of the best memories with satoru this year: your trip to mexico gifted from touya, your surprise pregnancy announcement, asking shoko to be baby gojo’s godmother, and all the special intimate moments with satoru. your unborn baby was already so loved by everyone. you couldn't have asked for a better accidental pregnancy.

you and satoru laid on the couch together all afternoon, enjoying each other's presence in this chaotic life for jujutsu sorcerers. catoru purred and slept next to you two on the chaise, your spirit birds perched on their stands as they watched over the apartment. you dozed in and out of sleep throughout the day as sleep was rare for you lately.

you felt satoru's warm hand on your belly again, you held his hand and lifted your head, emerald greens looking towards him.

"babe, i have a serious question." you said softly.

raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, he asked you curiously, "and what's your serious question?"

"are you ready to be a dilf?" you laughed.

"are you ready to be a milf?" he asked you back, chuckling, "cause you are definitely a milf, babe."

you smiled at satoru as he continued to plant soft kisses on your hand, "yeah, i'm ready to evict baby gojo."

little did you and satoru know, baby gojo would break your water next week to make their dramatic entrance into the world. yours and satoru's lives would be forever altered.

satoru and oc gojo girlfriend go on a baby moon from week 27, read the bonus chapter, ‘baby moon’ here.

or are you ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, ‘hello baby’ here.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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allandoflimbo · 1 year ago

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Never Again | (2)

Pairing// Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Type of story// Multi-Chapter

Bucky and Y/N hate each other. A lot. This isn’t your average enemies to lovers story. This is an enemies and lovers story. It will be dark. There will be sex.

Never Again masterlist || updated every thursday

Venice, Italy

Bucky looked at himself in the mirror as he put his earpiece in and then tightened his black tie around his neck.

He can’t remember the last time he wore a suit.

It was all black, minus his dress shirt which was white. His hair was starting to grow again, but it was still a bit short.

He had cut it shortly after Asa’s death.

His jaw clenched and unclenched as his thoughts continued to trace back to her.

He was in Venice for the gala where he’d meet the person who knew who had this real necklace. The person who killed Asa was expected to be here, too. Just the thought of being in the same city as them sent him off edge.

His eyes linger for a bit on his ring and then back up to his own eyes in his reflection.

He can see sam walking behind him into the other room in their suite. He’s also dressed, even though his rendez-vou will mostly take place outside the venue.

For a second, Bucky’s gaze falters.

Despite Bucky’s natural need for revenge, he understood Sam’s hesitancy for him to participate in his mission and so up close. A part of Bucky almost backed out when it became closer to today’s date.

He was even going to make a call, when someone reached out to him first instead.

Shuri, and then Fury.

Due to lack of resources from the Blip, Bucky was their best bet for this when it came to taking Hayden hostage and in their custody until the necklace was found.

Then, she’s to be arrested and taken straight to Wakanda.

Because of this, and because there was no more compound or tower, she would need to stay under watch until then.

Someone who had the power to hold her, and had a place with high security measures.

Bucky knew where they were going with this and he had refused profusely.

He was not going to keep his wife’s murderer in his house with him until the necklace was found.

It was out of the question.

But, then they had to play the the-world-is-at-stake game.

“We know this is hard but you are our only hope.”

And his least favorite: “Asa didn’t risk her life for nothing. She knew what that necklace in the wrong hands could do.”

They had convinced him to accept. Within days, his apartment was already prepped.

He had to hide his weapons for his own sake.

If he knew his gun was in an easy access area, he wouldn’t hesitate a second to kill Hayden. And that’s not what he would’ve wanted for the sake of Wakanda and this necklace.

He hates it, but it’s not what Asa would have wanted either.

He hates everything about this.

“You ready, man?” Sam asks quietly, walking over to his side table next to one of the queen beds for his ear piece.

Bucky lifts his suit jacket to where his gun is and makes sure it’s secure.

“Yeah. Our boat is outside? Can you bring me my glove?” Bucky asks him.

Sam walks over to him, handing over his glove for his vibranium hand.

“Yeah, they’re out there waiting for us.” Sam says.

Bucky nods and runs both his hands over his jacket.

He could do this.

He could not kill the one person he wants to the most.

Right?

—

“Captain. Sergeant Barnes.” One of the officials, a woman with long dark hair, greats Bucky and Sam as they step onto their canal boat. Bucky takes a seat and a deep breath.

“I’m agent Harlow with the FBI. I’ll be briefing you both on what to expect and who when you arrive,” her hologram iPad depicts photos of two men, one is blonde and the other has darker hair, “This is Alexei Roma and Giovanni Bianca. Alexei is our billionaire philanthropist. He is trying to get possession of the necklace for no reason other than adding another piece to his collection. He is innocent and doesn’t even know what the necklace is capable of. He’s the one hosting tonights gala where he and other billionaires and making ludicrous buys. Most of them black market,” she switches the photo over to the man with darker hair, “Giovanni. He’s Alexei’s biggest competition. His offer matches Alexei’s. Difference? Giovanni knows who the seller is. We assume they are there tonight.”

Sam frowns.

“This necklace seems so special, like it holds some kind of power. It makes me wonder why the seller is trying to get rid of it in the first place.” He says.

“Good point. Another thing for you both to find out,” the woman takes in a deep breath and switches the hologram photo to a photo of a file. She hesitantly looks up at Bucky, “After you’ve gotten information on where this seller may be, you need to find Hayden. We don’t have anything to help us identify who they are aside from their name and a scar on their arm. We do have height and weight identifications which should help a bit, and they are these,” she shows Sam and Bucky the numbers, “you’re looking for a needle in a haystack. Odds are, Barnes, since they are Hydra affiliated they will recognize you before you recognize them. Remember that,” Bucky doesn’t say anything but he enjoys the weight of his licensed P226 Legion handgun on his body, “Hayden is important because they know why that necklace is powerful. What it does. What it can do. We need to find that out. We need to also find out why they were running after it. Hayden is to be detained, unharmed, under Wakandan order, to not avoid additional conflict or attention to the seller or more buyers. Once we have possession of it, Hayden will be taken to Wakanda for further prosecutions decided by them.”

Bucky has to hold in his scoff at the end but he gives a short and barely noticeable nod anyway.

The gala is illuminated by blue and purple lights.

The music plays sensually as people stand around talking, drinking their choice of liquor, or making connections.

Bucky could feel the fire in his veins as he thanked the bartender for his scotch. It burned down his throat as he tossed it back.

He could feel it in his stomach as it settled there, hot and strong.

He missed being able to get drunk. Not that this, tonight, was a good time for it. But the last couple of days were ideal. The amount of drinks it’d take him to finally feel the start of it’s affects would take at least ten glasses of whiskey.

He longed for it.

He hadn’t feel numb like that in so long.

Anything to feel something other than that ache and emptiness in his life.

Bucky leaned over on the bar table as he discreetly tried to find Giovanni or Alexei.

It bothered Bucky that he didn’t know what Hayden looked like.

Every man that would look at him, even the bartender, made Bucky want to stand guard.

He hated this.

Bucky asks the bartender for another drink, wanting to feel more of the taste of the amber on his tongue.

“I’m Kassie.” A gentle and feminine voice came from Bucky’s side.

He turned around and saw a brunette, tall, and tanned skin. She was absolutely stunning. Her straight hair ran down her back, following the tight curvature of her dress, and her hazel eyes were piercing.

No scar.

She gave him another smile after asking for a drink.

“I come to Vanni’s galas quite often. Most faces are regulars. Haven’t seen yours, though.” It’s then he notices her accent.

British.

“First timer.” Bucky says.

“Something of interest caught your eye yet? The auction items are more prestigious than usual this year.”

“il tuo drink, signore.” The man hands Bucky his drink and Bucky thanks him.

“Not yet, but we’ll see.” He says.

The woman smiles again and nods.

“Vianni’s work — all of it is marvelous,” she takes a sip of her own drink, “some of the sellers this year are quite great as well.”

Bucky raises a brow at this.

“Do you know if there is a special area for sellers?”

She tilts her head at him.

“You’ve got quite the paper on you,” she whispers. She moves in closer to him and answers quietly, “They meet up there.” Bucky follows her perfectly manicured finger.

There’s a lounge on the top floor. Secluded from the rest of the room. Bucky can immediately make out the two guards at the entrance.

“Good to know, thank you, miss.”

“Kassie.” She correct him.

Bucky doesn’t miss her doe eyes and her sweet tone. He slyly moves his left hand behind his head in a way where his left ring finger falls in direct line with her sight.

Her demeanor changes majorly, but her kind eyes and smile still remain. She takes a small step back.

“It was nice meeting you.” She says shortly before taking her drink and walking away.

Bucky sighs as soon as she’s gone and runs a hand down his face.

He drinks his glasses until the end and then walks away, tightening his tie around his neck as he made his way to the stairs that led up to the other floors of the building.

“Not sure if you got that, Sam.” Bucky talks, walking smoothly past the other people.

“We did. You going up there now?” Sam asks.

“Halfway there.” Bucky says with finality.

Bucky is about to take the second flight of stairs when her hears commotion coming from across the floor. He looks up towards the VIP area where he was headed to, but that was also behind him, and frowns. There was a fight.

Bucky’s thankful that on the second floor he was on there was no one there.

“Dammit, might have to hold off for a few minutes or so.”

“What happened?”

“Some kind of argument. We can wait a little more. At least now we know where they will be.”

Bucky turns around back towards the main floor where the guests are. He takes in a deep breath and continues his walk back down to the floor.

“We’ve got someone on the other building across, up on the roof, and they’ve narrowed down on Alexei and Giovanni in that vip area. We’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

It’s all just soft noise to Bucky now. Three fifths of this mission was complete. Now he just needed to wait.

“Might as well get another drink.” Sam says playfully in his ear.

“Don’t tempt me.” Bucky says humorlessly, “I just might.”

At least it’d give him something to do with his hands.

Buckywas starting to feel a little awkward as he just walked around in the middle of the crowd with nothing to really do and no one to talk to.

At least the music pulled him away from reality for a bit.

He was so lost in his own thoughts about how he’d approach Alexei that he didn’t see the person he accidentally just hit walking by.

His shoulder hit the person’s hard, and when he spun around to see who it was, his breath caught only momentarily.

Wow.

Your hair also cascaded down your back, and your heels elongated your legs perfectly.

You had been anxious to head up to where you knew the guy you were looking for would be, that when you accidentally ran into someone and you spun around and realized you were looking at no other than Bucky Barnes, you were genuinely and thoroughly caught off guard.

You were standing there gaping like a fish. For the first time not knowing what to say right away. That’s when you realized he had no idea who you were. He never saw your face.

Then you wondered why he was here. Did he know about the necklace? Were his Avengers friend here?

Shit.

Your mission was compromised.

“I’m sorry about that.” His voice.

That stupid, deep voice.

You used his lack of knowledge with you as a disadvantaged and you gave him a small smile.

You needed to run and tell Ivan right away. There was no way you were getting out of there without them catching on to what you were doing.

The manpower was unfair.

“That’s alright.” You say quietly, before spinning around, letting the only thing behind you a man who for some reason was still looking at you and the train of your black dress.

Your super expensive black dress.

Bucky couldn’t stop the soft blushing he felt creeping up his neck or the flutter her felt at your voice.

Once you’re out of sight he quickly shakes his head.

Not only were you pretty, that wasn’t what it was, but your eyes...

He turns once more to look back at you again and this time you’re halfway down the long hallway that led to the exit out of the building.

His eyes narrowed down at you like a hawk. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turned around and your eyes met.

That was when everything changed.

Your left hand quickly went up to your ear piece.

“Ivan. We have a problem. Mission abort, meeting you at Rezou.”

You turned once again to meet Bucky’s eyes, like a moth to a flame, and that’s when his blue eyes traveled from your face to your left arm.

Bucky’s stomach fell hard. His blood also ran cold in his veins and all he could see was red.

And you definitely knew who he was alright, because the second he made the connection to who you were, your face also changed and you picked up your pace.

Bucky could feel his heart in his head.

“Sam, I got her.” Bucky says quickly, a hardness in his voice that he himself hadn’t heard in years.

“Who?” Sam’s confusion was palpable.

Bucky couldn’t even tell is he was running but he felt like he was at this point. He had to be.

“Hayden,” Bucky’s voice was unsteady, “Hayden’s a girl. I’m after her right now.”

“Buck-“

“I’m following her out the venue. I’ll need you, Sam. Stay on.”

Shit, he was already losing you.

You could feel the blood in your head and ears as you ran as fast as you possibly could outside in the Venice streets.

The winter soldier was after you. You hated him, but you knew how strong and much faster than you he was, but you would put up a fight.

“He’s here. The Winter Soldier is here.” You spat into your ear piece.

“What?”

You turned it off. You didn’t know what the Avengers could hack into and you didn’t want them over hearing anything.

The streets of Italy were already asleep, and your heels cladding loudly with stones as you ran as fast as you could.

You knew he was on your tail.

You could practically feel him right behind you.

You whipped your head back to see you were in fact correct.

You were screwed. You knew you were because this was a super soldier and he was a goddamn sniper. If he hadn’t caught you yet, it was by choice.

You wondered if he was tiring you out on purpose.

His face was angry as he spoke to someone.

You were right. They were all here.

You decided your best bet would be to create obstacles since your speed wasn’t what would win here.

You made a sharp right around a buggy and ran over the bridge over one of the canals.

“Fuck.” You grunted out as you felt your diaphragm already begin to spasm.

You only had one place you could go. Thankfully, it wasn’t that far.

You weren’t sure what you’d do when you get there.

You made another sharp left and then ran down a dark alley, illuminated by the orange lights of some of the homes, and ran towards the end, making a right.

Just like that, everything became more quiet. You stopped behind the wall and took a few deep breaths.

He could be right behind you, maybe did lose you, or was playing you. Whichever one it was, you had to take your chances. You turned your head towards the right and continued the way you were going, but much slower this time.

While you do so, you check your thigh to make sure your gun was still there where you put it.

It’s there.

You turn down another alley towards your left and then stop just next to a door. You look once more towards the direction you came from, relieved to see no one there.

Opening the door, you make your way inside the building.

You’re thankful you discovered this back entrance to your hotel earlier.

Hand tight on the handrail and the other grabbing the bottom of your dress, you start making your way up to your floor where your room is.

Room 302 of the Hotel Danieli.

One of your favorites.

With a deep breath you make your way over to the table next to the window and quickly remove your ear piece. You also unbuckle your gun from around your thigh and then run your hand through your hair.

You had not expected this.

You did not expect to see him.

You also weren’t an idiot. You knew you didn’t out run him. He was still out there waiting for you. You didn’t know what game he was playing at or how he even knew who you were, but you were willing to put up a fight. Your eyes quickly flicker away from the window as a soft gust blows your curtain just slightly.

Your eyes go to the roof across the street.

He was a sniper.

You quickly move out of direct sight of the window, bringing your gun with you, and rest up against your wall next to it.

You turn the safety off.

Wait.

Your eyes dart down once more to the open window.

The soft click of another gun’s safety being turned off is the only confirmation you need.

You can’t help the laugh, in the form of a scoff, that leaves your lips. Your hair fans over the left side of your face as you turn to look directly into the black void of the rest of your suite.

With footsteps that are barely noticeable, and as the lights illuminates his face, Bucky steps foot into your hotel bedroom.

His eyes are dark, his tie is gone, he shockingly broke a sweat, some of his hair was falling over his forehead, his mouth is in a tight line, and he’s got his gorgeous - oh hell you had always wanted one - Legion gun pointed directly at your head with both hands.

Hilarious; he still kept his vibranium hand hidden.

You just stared at him as he continued looking at you, saying nothing and doing nothing. It almost intrigued you. He looked furious, his top lip almost trembled, yet he was as still as a rock.

You let out a short laugh as you lifted your own two arms to point your own gun back at him.

“Put it down. Now!” He screamed the last word at you and you felt insulted.

You let out a little smile.

“I don’t think you’re really talking to me that way, now are you, Bucky?” Something about you knowing his real name irks him deeply and it does something to him he wasn’t prepared for. It makes him feel more human than assassin and it reminds him of what you took from him, “I’m not scared of you. I only ran because I don’t want you in my goddamn way.” You fire your bullet into the lamp right behind him at your last word.

Either of you barely flinch at it.

“I don’t give a shit. Stand down. Now.” He says again.

You squint an eye at him and that’s when Bucky has had enough. The speed he goes for you physically hurts you, and he aims his gun directly at yours, causing yours to fall apart in your hand and fly across the room; its sudden power making your hand burn.

With a growl, you unexpectedly grab him arm and twist his around so he’s the one with his back against the wall.

He was more powerful than you, but you were still somewhat skillful and did have some more than normal human strength. Catching him off guard was just enough.

Bucky’s breathing was hard as he pulled you around until he was back in an advantage point.

You smirk just after your head hits the wall hard.

“That was fun,” you knew what he was about to do. You saw it before you knew. He was too distracted in what was going on in his head that he did a piss job in hiding it. You quickly reach your right hand around until the cuff he had in his hand is closed and locked around nothing, “but frankly I’m bored, soldat.” Bucky could only glare back at you as you stepped your impressive black high heel into his shoe and moved your body closer to his, “It was nice seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t bother to react at his blood boiling or to attempt to run after you again.

He had already made contact with everyone else and they were prepared for you.

If anything, it had all gone to plan.

What he didn’t expect was for you to be you.

Your perfume lingers in the beautiful hotel room and he’s out of breath as he watches you jump out your window, aiming for the waters below.

Idiotic.

Bucky closes his eyes tightly together and runs a hand through his hair.

He expects the voice in his ear, but he still hates it just the same; and it hits different. It’s a confirmation of what the next few weeks will be.

“I got her.” Sam.

“We should be landing in New York soon. We’ll have someone drive you to your home in the city. You said her room was ready?” Sam asks Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Bucky can’t find it in himself to vocally respond yet.

He also can’t wrap his head around the fact that this girl in front of him killed his wife just a few days ago.

This hydra agent.

This criminal, who he’d have to literally protect and keep in custody in his own home for god knows how long.

His eyes linger over the bruises on your legs and he doesn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for you.

You’re passed out and cuffed to the bed underneath you. You hit the water pretty hard. It was evident how desperate you were to get away from him.

He wants to kill you, and maybe he will once they have the necklace.

Bucky can only nod in response to Sam’s question.

“Five minutes to landing.” Sam says.

“It’s on autopilot?” Bucky asks, walking out of the plane’s medical area, closing the door behind them.

“Yes. Did you want to land us the rest of the way?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, finally allowing his heart to feel again, “it’s been a while since I’ve flown.”

@03stepedwa @migueloharaslxt @unaxv

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfic #bucky x you

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year ago

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X-Files IWTB: First Time React (Part I)

I needed to watch I Want to Believe for a Christmas present project; and, going into the movie, I knew it would be bad.

I didn't know it would be "broken within ten minutes before Mulder and Scully even get into the helicopter" bad.

On the positive side, I'm enjoying David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson's acting; and they're doing the best they can with the scripts, so A+ for effort!

Now, reaction below the cut:

Eyyyyyyyy, looky looky where we are.

An IWTB reaction.

Me, the canon denier after S8.

Yep.

But never fear! I shall have an absolute blast demolishing all the aspects that don’t make sense and enjoying the parts that deserve praise or kudos. :DDD

My Position Going Into This

When it comes to any art form, I stand absolute on the position that, yes, if it was created to be art, it is art; but art can also be critiqued on its merits or demerits. Otherwise, we all wouldn’t acknowledge what makes one piece of art masterful compared to another piece.

For movies, I focus on writing: does this plot point make sense in the context of generalized or specific circumstances; or, more specifically, do the actions of X person fit into their pre-established character or break it entirely without providing a reasonable motive? Pointing out the flaws of x/y/z character or moment doesn’t ruin my enjoyment-- every movie, tv show, book, etc. has them-- unless the flaw is noticeably glaring; in which case, what can I do about that?

In conclusion: this will be very snarky, but I mean no hate towards CC or anyone who helped create this movie. I have criticisms, justly; but I separate art from the artist always, and judge both on completely different scales and metrics. Any and all snark is exaggerated for comedic purposes... or that's my story and I'm sticking with it. ;)))

And now, onto the reaction~

Live Reaction

The movie’s gorgeous, I’ll give it that: tone, atmosphere, lighting, etc., all spectacular.

For a split second I wished that the man running past the woman victim had been a supernatural creature of some sort-- more X-Files in tone; and would eliminate the Father Joe character completely.

Dakota Whitney (not given her name yet, think it's her) seems in-tune with Father Joe’s strangeness-- another shame, because her character was squandered on a love triangle.

I will say, though, the spectacle seems… a little repetitive already? “Let him go, let him go” repeated three times with three different cuts.

Hmmm, I think this is the thought: compared to FTF, this movie seems like its plot is paper-thin, relying on spectacle or repetitive dialogue (or inane plotpoints? we’ll see) to keep it chugging along.

Scully is here!

After comparing her intro to the Pilot and Fight the Future and the previous five minutes, it seems… bland? The spectacle is gone, but that's not the problem. Everything is medical jargon as she’s giving an account of her patient to an overhead on a screen. The problem is-- and why I mentioned her previous introductions-- when a main character is introduced, their first scene establishes core aspects of their personality. Now would be a good time to get a thumb on how Scully has changed as she's navigated life on the run and in this hospital... instead, we're given nothing, really, just a medical spiel with no point other than to set up that she has a patient who needs experimental treatment. Nothing that is personal to her as an individual, other than she's more muted, downtrodden, etc. It's a very rushed and criminally underutilized scene.

I understand what CC and Spotnitz are going for: defanged Scully, hands tied and trying to keep her head down and live low-profile. Pouring her exhausted energy into trying to do some good, at least for the boy (since she can’t for Mulder.) It sets her up as frazzled and frustrated; and it makes sense why she pitches the FBI’s offer to Mulder when given the chance.

FBI agent just bounces in and disrupts her talk with her patient… that’s a plot point, definitely--

Wait, Scully kept referring to Mulder as Fox Mulder… which, yes, she’s parroting the man’s words back exactly to him but also Scully only ever referred to him as “Mulder”, “my partner”, “Agent Mulder”; and didn’t mention him by name otherwise. This is a nitpick, I know.

Also, from the interviews I’ve read, Gillian Anderson (and David Duchovny) struggled to get back into character in 2008 as well as the Revival (link here.) GA also notes (link here) that she agrees with Scully's characterization: "How she is in this film follows perfectly with where we last saw her and who she has always been." And, if lumping IWTB together with S9, I agree; and, interestingly, it's an aspect of Scully that GA seems to retain in the Revival (I think): saddened, withdrawn, only sparing animation when directly talking to Mulder. It makes sense after the William arc; but it’s sad to think about, regardless.

THAT’S THE FENCE?????

I THOUGHT IT WAS A TINY WOODEN FENCE THAT COULD BE HOPPED OVER.

…That makes a lot of sense, actually. I definitely can see Mulder rigging it up with all the time he had to spare (because, I mean, look at it: rusty, rinky, weirdly tied to the poles.)

I will say: I give Chris Carter props here because that man had a vision and he executed it: atmosphere, ~vibes~, and the kitchen sink. It’s why I maintain he was the ideas man and Frank Spotnitz was his refiner.

WAIT. Is that… is that orange juice on the table? (They remembered Mulder’s orange juice but forgot to iron out the plot. The irony. If this were an indie film, I’d find it endearing and charming. …But it’s not.)

Okay, intro to Mulder now.

Immediately we are shown the nest he’s built, with Samantha taking center-stage on his door. THAT’S how you do an intro; and, to the credit of the people behind the camera, it strikes a descriptive balance between Scully’s dispirited silence and his animated clutter.

OKAY. Mulder’s “What’s up, Doc?” was worth it. (Don’t you just love when creators behind really cool, innovative series make alternate universe stories in their own universe? The “what if”s? The “glad this didn’t happen but it’s not all that bad, yet” one-offs with big budgets behind them? Visionaries, I tell ya.)

Mulder’s going off on a tangent and Scully’s back in her element and I would be content if the movie skipped from here to the almost end with Skinner and Scully finding him and we (meaning me) the audience wondering “WAIT, WHAT HAPPENED” and then there’s the vacation and it ends.

Also, pertinent to stop here and reflect on the first Big Issue of the film:

Mulder and Scully have been living in this house for five years-- as confirmed by the cut lines in IWTB’s script (link here, thank you @dunhamhairograpy)-- which means they were on the run only one year before settling back in Virginia. To satisfy my suspicions, I looked up (on Wikipedia) criminals on the FBI’s wanted list between 2000 to 2003 to see how many years each person evaded capture (if they were ever caught.) In summary, those who were on the run more than a year most likely fled the country and at the very least did not settle back in the state they originally fled; and those who remained locked on American soil were caught within a few weeks to (maximum) a year (three years was the most, I believe. Longer or still at large dipped into other countries, at least temporarily.) The script also confirms that Mulder and Scully are aware that Skinner is aiding and abetting them behind the scenes; and since the agent who interrupted Scully at her hospital immediately cut to the chase-- with the implication that Scully knew where to find her partner-- the FBI likely knew how to find Mulder easily and just… let him be.

Despite the absolute dumpster fire of S9’s mytharc, we are led to assume that, somehow, Skinner and Doggett and Reyes stamped out the interest of alien-men-in-government and every other enemy that wanted Mulder's head and they all… proceeded as normal? Or Doggett and Reyes didn’t but Skinner did somehow…?

BUT THAT DOESN’T MATTER, LOOK AT THIS SHINY MOVIE AND THE PRETTY GOATMAN.

Also, yes, the beard needs work. However, I just remembered that beard oil is a thing but also that hair oil is a thing; and the idea that men might be taking better care of their beards than I do my own locks makes me wanna give them a thumbs up. (…But not Mulder: the texture on his face makes me want to cringe backward from the epidermis to the dermis to the subcutaneous layer of my skin.)

Mulder “who believes that anymore” was a great line for his first facial introduction (not bothering with technical phrases, gotta keep chuggin’); and his reaction at Scully’s snarky “they do at the FBI, apparently” and both of them being like “uhuh, they wouldn’t listen to you/us years ago” was a great nanosecond of screentime and I want more.

Mulder's walking wonky with a feverish passion behind his eyes; and I recognize that insanity from the fervor of spending too many hours indoors and online with nothing else to do but brood.

ALSO, he and Scully both make complete sense here and I cosign this scene.

(...Yeah, I know, we’ll get to those ones later.)

Scully getting around Mulder’s mood and straight to his interest and then igniting his sarcastic “oh” within a sentence or two is masterfully them and yep, I cosign.

Mulder choking on the “I am just as happy having them out of mine” denial stuck in his throat…. also: yes, Scully has a point about the FBI as discussed above but WHY do they want him out of their hair?? There were more people who had death wishes against him than there could be people in positions of power that support him; and with no CSM or Consortium hand-holding their superstar through trials and tribulations because he could “expose” them… again, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

Mulder’s being really petulant and I love it but also he’s being too petulant but in a good way, in a sarcastic “at the end of my rope and I’m only barely being polite” One Son way.

Scully's honest “I worry about you” is touching, that’s nice.

I just realized: y’know how DD wrote The Unnatural because he wanted to hear Mulder and Scully talk like normal people, not just regurgitate the plot points back to each other with flowery, long-winded expressions (which are great, don’t get me wrong)? Welp, they sound more… human? natural? broken in? here; and I like that aspect.

Mulder looking at Samantha’s pic and knowing he can’t not help an innocent was a perfect character moment: great writing, thumbs up. (Reminiscent of his prior pattern of reluctantly helping people he disliked or was annoyed by-- Max Fenig in Fallen Angel, Krycek in Sleepless, Skinner in Zero Sum, Crump in Drive, Doggett in Alone, etc.)

He accepts the FBI’s offer; and Scully’s relieved; and I advise you to keep that in mind for later.

The Big Problems Set In

Whether Mulder and Scully called and told the FBI where to pick them up or the FBI sent a helicopter out, unprompted, as a power move is unimportant in the minutiae but incredibly crippling in the larger narrative: it flew TO Mulder’s house to pick him up. There is no way Mulder is undercover or in hiding any longer; and that means, at this point, Mulder is committed. The end, full stop, point blank, period.

The movie is broken and it's only 10 minutes in. From here on out, it will try to claim that Mulder is losing Scully by running further into the darkness; but the reality is, he has no other choice because there is nowhere else to run to regain his freedom AND to not put Scully at cross ends (or in danger) with the FBI.

He CANNOT back out: if Mulder withdraws from this deal with the FBI, he has to leave his home, go on the run again, and risk more aggressive recapture and imprisonment and probably broker another deal to escape full penalty at. a. minimum.

It would be insane for him to back out at any point in the future. He knows it, the FBI knows it, and more importantly SCULLY knows it: she’s the cautious one in this relationship; and she would have weighed the pros and cons before telling Mulder the FBI's offer. Yes, she tends to react without thinking at times-- asking Mulder for his IVF donation without long-term plans, for example, (link here)-- but something as precious as her partner’s life, the only person she sacrificed everything for, would be carefully guarded and protected.

Surely, she wouldn’t want him to back out at any point; especially because she has constantly suspected their own allies in the FBI all the years they’d been there, even Skinner, over and over and over. There would be no inducement or reason for her to trust the FBI to let Mulder stop on his whim (or hers, or theirs); and it’s a good thing she doesn’t do that. …Right?

NOW: would it be in her character to want him to stop? Absolutely-- that’s who she is. But to place him in an impossible position then demand something even more impossible on top of it, after Mulder’s hands are effectively tied until the case is solved? That’s what’s character breaking for her. We’ll get to that.

What’s going to be even more frustrating is that Scully will ultimately break their partnership (or start to) because of jealousy over another woman... for script reasons. (Don’t believe me? I don't blame you. But we'll get to it in a future part.) And that’s the show’s greatest flaw: the writers enjoy playing “are they, aren’t they” with Mulder’s driven passion and Scully’s jealousy and wish to be his priority. What’s worse is he prioritizes her more than any other human on the planet, even in this movie; and, at this point, Scully knows and has made peace with how Mulder is (all things.) To sacrifice their growth and trust in each other because of illogical reasons... we’ll get to that.

“Past is the past” says Dakota Whitney. That might be enough for Mulder in the long run but it certainly won’t be for Scully. …RIGHT?

Monica name recycle which is a staple and yet not a Monica Reyes who could have had pull to have Mulder and Scully pulled in on the case… oh, well.

Yes, Mulder has precedent to write off psychic phenomenon evidence when given to him by his enemies-- he’s petty that way-- but can you imagine how annoyed he was when it came out the psychic was a religious guy? A former Father? An issue that used to pit he and Scully against each other? (I see what you did there, writers.)

So: we have religious angle to separate Mulder and Scully in this movie. Also, we have jealousy over Dakota Whitney-- this movie’s nicer variant of Diana Fowley and Detective White and Phoebe Green: a gal who wants Mulder and writes Scully out of the picture despite very obvious rumors and even more obvious clues in the present-- to drive a further wedge (will be discussed next time.) What else could go wrong?

What I do like is that this movie sets up Mulder’s priority list that aligns with his previous character iteration: he wants to chase monsters, but not at the expense of people; and, further, when he doesn’t want to chase monsters, he still will for the sake of others' lives.

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Chris, did you have to make Father Joe a pedophile?

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. I understand, I do, that it’s about people who want to redeem themselves, who are afraid of the monsters within, who are burdened with a greater purpose, BUT NONE OF THE PEDO STUFF HAS TO DO WITH THE PLOT.

For instance: Roland’s autism directly correlated with the X-File of his case, Marty’s blindness with hers, as well as all the other men and monsters with supernatural powers or inhibitions. Having a random and prominent flaw that doesn’t contribute to anything in the movie is, quite honestly, a waste of precious run-time; and is another example of the movie’s paper-thin story structure that it tosses around willy-nilly.

Tune’s catchy, though.

Okay, the movie’s editing is weird again. We’ve already “seen” Father Joe in the beginning; so repeating Mulder’s introduction style (angling towards everything but the man’s face) is noticeably repetitive and out of place.

Scully going for the man’s throat is a great set up for her and Mulder’s banter but

issssssssssssssssssss out of place, especially considering they need information out of the man and don’t know how he’ll react to fierce, off-topic interrogation. Yes, harming children is a no-no for Scully, and harming them especially in the name of her faith is a BIGGER no-no; however, she was never this tactless before, not even with John Lee Roche. Further, she stipulates this is Mulder's case, which means she jeopardized his interrogation with her sniping. Not only was it out-of-character, but it could have put an end to the only lead Mulder had to help out the FBI. Her professionalism is rusty, and further, she is sacrificing the high ground for a dig at the man’s ethics. It’s not very Scully, is it?

“Maybe it’s not God doing the sending” so this was personal, Scully, that dig had nothing to do with the case except for your own want to defend your beliefs against this pedophile. You’ve never done this in the past; and you and Mulder have worked past any insecurities you might have had with regards to your faith. So, THIS means you’re insecure. Maybe those years on the road have you overthinking or rethinking; but, regardless. it’s rolling back the character growth you achieved in all things and needed to be handled with defter care.

If the writers were trying to establish her as a bloodhound in this movie ala her old self, they can’t start it out with her being listless and downtrodden and suddenly break that in ways that would harm Mulder’s (and her) investigation and then shove her back into listlessness... and then repeat that cycle over and over with no rhyme or reason.

Also, Whitney is being established as the woman who looks to Mulder, always, because she has a big, fat crush on him that the writers will exploit for maximum drama.

FATHER JOE SENDS SCULLY OUT-- why. Negative energy didn’t inhibit psychic ability in previous cases. If Father Joe's so wimpy that someone watching him with disdain while he does his whammo makes him insecure and unable to… I was gonna say perform, remembered his altar boys, and cringed internally. Anyway, then he needs to be reminded who's in charge here.

The dialogue cracks are beginning to show: Scully’s parting line is cringe. Even though it doesn’t sound natural to say-- that’s never stopped The X-Files before-- what makes it egregious is that there is no connective tissue to her statement. When talking, there is a leadup to a point and a comment that follows it, etc. etc. Scully’s statement-- “Maybe what you see is a way to try to make people forget what you really are”-- is responding to nothing; and is randomly stated. The equivalent of the teacher telling Timmy to go sit in the corner and Timmy randomly yelling "You're not my mom!" before doing so. It achieved nothing; and made her look like a five year old that can't grasp the finer points of communication (because she only reiterated what everyone else in the room already knew.) Also, it sets up Scully as a disbeliever to Mulder and Whitney as believers; and, of course, this puts Scully through a hackneyed journey back to belief even though she doesn’t disbelieve in psychic ability any longer, etc. etc.

The question becomes: if this is a new pattern in her behavior, it will remain consistent. Another problem, too, remains. We (the audience) are not given a good reason why this rational character is behaving outside of her own interests. Scully has training and years of experience that being on the run for a year and in medicine for four? is not going to erase. It’s setting her up to be sloppy and messy with her decision-making skills; and we are given no reason why Scully is this way now; and, further, why she directly contradicts this new pattern in other scenes.

Scully getting scared by Mulder on the pedo colony balcony is a scene I didn’t know existed and I like and he was a reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal snot for doing that and yay, it’s Mulder.

And also, I have another nitpick: Mulder, although he has backed off and let Scully handle her own issues with sexist cops and the like in the past, would never let a crook dictate the terms of where Scully is supposed to be: Scully would decide to walk out when she didn’t believe a word their suspect was saying, not because she was expected to leave. Mulder didn’t advocate for her here, put his foot down, or even blaze up and insist Father Joe stop playing games. Strike one against Mulder's characterization.

JUST AFTER I MADE THOSE POINTS Scully admits she was wrong and Mulder immediately defers to her. Which… uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, time to break that down.

This doesn’t seem like a lot; but that tiny detail completely demolished Father Joe’s introductory scene AND Mulder and Scully’s first scene back in the FBI saddle.

“All I had were questions-- you challenged him.” That’s a very Mulder thing to say… in other circumstances, but not in this one. Here, Mulder shouldn’t have “just had questions” especially because he was bugged that the other FBI people were a little too doe-eyed about Father Joe; and that annoyance would have made him act out on the priest. Furthermore, Scully’s fury against criminals IS something he loves about her BUT was out of place here, too. And all of this is negated because Scully left, anyway, and he didn’t stick up for her. It’s like if Scully and he were middle schoolers and their classmates kicked her out of a group discussion only for him to wander over after it's done and say, “you did great back there, sweetie!” without sticking his neck out for her at all. It smacks of spinelessness, the opposite of Fox Mulder.

Great acting by DD and GA; but terrible, terrible scenario.

The precedent has been set that Scully will lash out, get shunned to an outer circle, and Mulder will ho-hum, let it happen, get his info, and give her a pat on the head later. That’s never been them; and this pattern is immediately broken by a following contradictory scene. This back-and-forth cycle continues, over and over, flip-flopping Mulder and Scully in and out of character, and further damaging the script with one-off, disconnected responses.

Also, aren’t Mulder and Scully past this unnecessary drama of poking the bear (an old, Irish? pedo priest) before they get their necessary information? ESPECIALLY NOW WHEN MULDER'S FREEDOM IS ON THE LINE.

Scully finding out Mulder is humoring Father Joe and deciding to leave the situation and beat them all to the car NOW is in-character; but--

wait. WAIT. NO, I WAS WRONG. SCULLY’S JUST LEAVING LEAVING??? WHAT.

Okay, another essay time-- wow, I’m not even 20 minutes into this movie, HOW-- before we keep going: Scully leaving, now, because she doesn’t want to humor Father Joe has never stopped her in the past. Ten seconds ago she and Mulder were bantering, five seconds ago she bantered as she left, one cut later she’s somber and serious and dour and down and Mulder has to chase after her. WHAT HAPPENED IN A MILLISECOND to change her entire attitude, especially since she doesn't have a new piece of information to react to?????

In order:

Sees Father Joe is being humored (tilts head back in her normal, almost-amused, incredulous style):

Makes a bantery “It’s been fuuuuuuuuuun” remark and an upbeat “no thanks” remark:

Walks off (which is dangerous to her partner, will talk about that in the below paragraph) with a bantery “anyway, he doesn’t want me here” handwave:

Mulder is amused (but knows he has to go convince her):

MILLISECOND LATER with no new info or reaction “This isn’t my life anymore, Mulder”:

SO, we’re supposed to assume Scully wanted to hand Mulder over to the FBI from the start, sit back, and just let him run willy nilly around with them without her being there; and only came along because he asked her to come but still bailed on him when she didn’t like the case…?

Let’s take John Lee Roche as an example of why Scully wouldn’t react this way: during that and Grotesque and even Folie a Deux, Scully had Mulder’s back even against her own professional interests. She only left him in FTF and One Son because she thought Mulder didn’t need her any longer. Scully’s nature has always been to ride along, even when she doesn’t want to-- How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, an excellent example: even before her keys were stolen, she was still trying to talk herself out of joining Mulder. But now, NOW when it’s inconvenient, she decides to skip out? Now she has even less excuse: this is her partner’s freedom on the line; and he stipulated FROM THE GET-GO that he needs HER to work WITH him to solve this, BEFORE she called the FBI to agree.

THIS is not Scully. THIS is ridiculous.

Now, to those who are reading this and thinking, “well, she could have done that”-- true, Scully could have. Anyone can do anything, IF there is a logical reason or it’s in a person’s best interest to take that action. For instance: Never Again was in-character for Scully because it fit into the mold of previously established reactions to father figures and feeling second place. Why this isn’t in her character is because the two keys to Scully’s loyalty-- being prioritized and depended upon as well as valued and trusted-- are being handed to her on a silver platter and she’s rejecting them (AND her partner’s safety) because she doesn’t wanna do it. Again, that’s never been who Scully is: Scully does the hard thing because it needs to be done; and she only shirks or avoids the emotional mirror being held up to her while still doing her job. There’s a life on the line here-- two, possibly, if Mulder doesn’t follow through on the deal-- and Scully would rather dump the problem in his lap when the logical, realistic, and easily graspable answer is do this case for a few rough weeks or months (because Mulder has always worked fast), then have unlimited freedom and time to go back to doing what she wants. This is not the place to write in this reaction: have one for Scully if, in the discussion for his freedom, Mulder starts pushing for reinstatement instead of simply finishing this case and letting his past go. That’s not what happens here (at the very least); so it makes no sense for her to be doing these actions-- especially with the information she and Mulder are working on-- now.

Scully says “You’ve done all they’ve asked for you to do” as if implying that Mulder’s finished his task NOW, RIGHT NOW-- that one talk with a psychic has won his freedom. …I’m sorry, how did she conclude this and where was this established?

Mulder was brought on to find an agent; Scully thinks that agent is dead, so oh, well! You’re done here, Mulder, let’s go~.

Scully. You know and Mulder knows and I know that the FBI said one agent but really meant the whole case. Don’t be stupid. You’re not a stupid person. They never stipulated either way, c'mon, you were there, you know this.

The problems aren't over AND IT'S ONLY 20 MINUTES IN.

Next pet peeve: as a general rule, Mulder is understanding with those on the wrong side of the law; however, Father Joes is a pedophile. Further, we’re not shown the scene where Father Joe has humanized himself, his reasons, or even his current character enough to justify the soft way Mulder is dealing with him.

All we have is that--

Father Joe isolates himself in a compound.

Father Joe told Scully to leave the room when she barked at him.

Mulder handles Father Joe gently despite him being a pedophile and despite him kicking Scully out of the interrogation (which sets up her feeling left out.)

Mulder is sitting in the car with Father Joe (and Whitney) and not Scully despite the two of them driving to the same place together.

Father Joe’s castration and inner torment is not brought up until later when he wants to appeal to Scully.

So, for all intents and purposes, Mulder is being needlessly sweet to a guy that confessed (at this point) to touching more than a couple altar boys and ostracized Mulder's partner just because he’s… psychic. Does Chris not remember how Mulder was initially not nice to Samuel in Miracle Man until after he pulled the Samantha card, was never nice to Modell in Pusher, and still picked fights with various witnesses because of their personal decisions? Again, the only time Mulder was nice or at least professionally kind with flawed characters was AFTER they owned up to or tried to atone for their sins…and, AGAIN, we aren’t shown that scene between he and Father Joe. AND THAT'S ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT SCENES BETWEEN THEM BECAUSE IT SETS THE TONE FOR THEIR PROFESSIONAL RELATIONSHIP. It falls into the “reply without a preceding remark” territory that I mentioned about the dialogue, except this time it's with characters. Really bad.

The writers try to save the interaction by having Father Joe sympathize about Samantha whereas the other agent up front doesn’t… but that only breaks the scene even more.

Male agent up front believed in psychic Father Joe before Mulder was even asked aboard the case.

Male agent up front believes in psychic abilities but still pokes at the man who was an “authority” on them by mocking Samantha’s “E.T.” abduction.

Male agent has been professionally distant and disdainful from the get-go; but it’s in HIS best interest to not create rifts with Mulder who is helping Father Joe help the FBI (and him) find their missing agent.

There is nothing in male agent’s character to suggest he is an irrational man; so, therefore, his random poke only serves to undercut his teammates’ efforts thus far to find and bring Mulder on board. This would waste everyone’s effort and precious time.

This scene only serves as a convenient excuse to simultaneously lore dump about Samantha and attempt, too late, to humanize Father Joe. Lore about Samantha is fine, but not if it contradicts (read: breaks) male agent's character. And humanizing Father Joe is pointless here because every monster can sympathize with others in their own crooked way. A truer test of character would be to show him go out of his way or comfort zone to help another person-- and that isn't what happens here.

Conclusion

Will I do a part two? Yeah, probably: I need to get to "the split" and Skinner and the vacation-- can't leave it (not even) half-done, after all.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

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claygoestothemovies · 7 months ago

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⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Alex Garland’s CIVIL WAR is not the film I was expecting to get. I think, perhaps, this is a good thing. The marketing had led me to believe this was going to be a very politically fraught film, a vision of the United States at war with itself. Instead what we are presented with is a look at what journalists and photographers who document war go through on a day-to-day basis, and the cost that it brings along with it.

The story is set near the end of a present day civil war scenario within the United States. We get zero details on what led to the fracture, aside from a few comments about dissolving the FBI, the decision to drop bombs on American soil, and comparing the President (played excellently in what amounts to a cameo by Nick Offerman) to a couple of well known dictators. I’ve seen this criticized for not really having anything To Say, and for playing it safe. While the criticism is valid, and I personally would have loved a scathing indictment of what a Trump second term could look like (for example), that would have been fitting for the film that had been marketed, but not necessarily for the film that we got.

That said, the film that we did get I still found absolutely chilling. This has some of the best urban modern day warfare since BLACK HAWK DOWN, with some truly harrowing sequences that were extremely effective at placing you in the center of the action in a remarkably visceral way. It was also impossible to watch without thinking about the possible future this could hold. Even with Garland’s comments about the morality of politics, and with the commitment to not taking a side in the film, the very real divide in the country during an election year made the situation feel all too prescient.

The performances at the center of the film are uniformly excellent. Kirsten Dunst is putting in some of the best work of her career here - and that is saying something! Cailee Spaeny continues to be a fascinating actress to watch, and has been on my radar since her unnerving performance in 2018’s BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE. Dunst’s real life husband Jesse Plemons also makes one of the most terrifying one-scene appearances I’ve ever witnessed. Seriously, I might have nightmares about it. The performances were raw, lived in, and never not riveting to watch.

I can’t end this review without bringing up the sound design. Garland, if nothing else, always uses sound in a way that feels nothing short of revelatory - remember the scene with the bear in ANNIHILATION?! - and this is no exception. I found myself marveling constantly about how he used the sound to more fully immerse the viewer into the story and what the characters were experiencing from moment-to-moment. I can’t wait to watch this again at home and push the sound system to its limits!

CIVIL WAR was always bound to be a controversial film. No matter the execution, a large amount of the moviegoing public were going to have *opinions* on this one. Personally, I think Garland walked the minefield about as well as he could have, but wonder if maybe the story would have been better served, at least commercially, if it was set in a real life historical event. I loved this, and cannot wait to see it again, but for the reasons I outlined above, your mileage may vary. We’re a third of the way through the year, and in my opinion, this is the first great film of 2024.

5/5

#civil war #alex garland #a24 #kirsten dunst #cailee spaeny #movie review #film review

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h0tchner · 3 years ago

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Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds fandom #my fics #rb!!!!!! ily!!!!!!!!!#ivyheliotrope #abby!#aaron hotch

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago

Text

Part Seventeen. The Bugity Stream

warnings: swearing, dream is jealous, kinda angsty word count: 4k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist wattpad

a/n: heheheeee bugity stream!! barely any dreamsy interaction and we don’t read the actual bugity fanfics, but lots of pouty dream :/ and we’re seeing stuff from a new person’s POV (also, elmo and i 389757% have come up with lore for the foxtrot fic that they mention in this chapter..... side fic??) everyone say THANK YOU HARVEY FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA (@hungoverhellhound) ur the best :) also also, 🦀 anon suggested using discord people’s names for twitch chat so i did!! (i asked beforehand and everyone who wanted to be included was) it was fun adding that little bit so hehe hope mushroom field likes their comments

ANYWAY, ENJOY THIS PART!!!!!!!!! and as always, thanks for all the positive comments and stuff yall really make me cry /pos

**********

George’s POV

George left the messaging app when he received a spam of notifications from Dream on Discord telling him to call him as soon as possible. He knew it wasn’t an actual emergency, which is the only reason he took his sweet time rising from his bed and meandering over to his desk. George fell on his chair with a huff, taking a deep breath before pulling himself closer to his desk and opening Discord. He picked up his headphones and slid them on, preparing himself for the loud voice his best friend was about to use. After pressing a few familiar buttons, he could hear his best friend's frantic cry for help through his headphones.

“GEORGE.”

He tried his hardest not to roll his eyes. “Dream.”

“I'm-I’m going to literally—GEORGE. What am I supposed to do?”

“About what?”

“You know what!” Dream huffed, exasperated. “The stream!”

“You don’t even know what it is, why are you being so weird about it?”

“I’m not being weird,” he defended.

“Yes, you are,” George countered. “You’re, like, panicking, I dunno.”

“Because it’s Quackity! He’s probably gonna make, like, a proposal video or some shit to show her and then everyone is going to ship them and she’s going to forget about me and—”

“This wouldn’t be a problem if you tell her you like her.”

Dream scoffed. “Oh, so they can make fun of me for it? No, thanks.”

“She wouldn’t make fun of you for liking her,” George reasoned. Definitely not. “Why would Bugsy make fun of you for that? Or for anything in general?”

“Okay, maybe not, but she’d definitely be weirded out or not believe me. I can’t tell her yet. It… it has to be the right time.”

George thought it was rather cute that Dream cared so much about his confession being perfect, whereas Quackity was doing everything he could to make Dream just say it. Dream had been stressing over how to tell her he liked her for a few weeks, constantly running ideas by George before telling him to forget it and coming up with new plans. He could see how important it was to Dream that he did it right. They just needed to figure out what “right” was.

“Fine, but I’m just saying if you told her already, you wouldn’t have to be so worried about this.”

“Should I be? You make it sound like me panicking is justified! WHAT ARE THEY DOING?”

“Stop being so dramatic!” George laughed. “She isn’t going to forget about you and if he proposes to her, we can just ask to join the call and we’ll all yell at Quackity for you, okay?”

“No, I wanna yell at Quackity.”

“Well, he said he’s not going to let you in the call so…”

“He did? When did he say that? Wait, why won’t he let me in?? What are they doing??”

George laughed at the franticness in Dream’s voice. “I’m not allowed to say.”

“George!”

“I can’t!” he said as he threw his hands into the air. “I literally can’t!”

“Oh come on, you’ve never kept a secret in your life but now you decide to?”

George shook his head. If only Dream knew how many secrets he was actually keeping, it would be obvious just how good George was at not spilling things.

“George, just tell me what they’re doing,” Dream begged, his voice now somber and genuinely worried instead of frantic. “Please.”

“I can’t, Dream. I’m sorry. But really, it’s going to be okay.” Hating the seriousness of the conversation and the oddly soft tone of his voice, George changed the subject. “Oh, look at that, Karl wants to join the call. I’ll add him,” he said quickly, knowing Dream wasn’t going to say anything about how much he liked Bugsy around her best friend. In Dream’s eyes, Karl was unaware of his feelings for Bugsy, and George assumed he wanted to keep it that way.

“Wait, George before you—” Dream started softly but was cut off by the sound of someone joining the call.

“Hey, Karl!” George greeted obliviously.

“Hi! Neither of you are streaming or recording or anything, right?” Karl asked.

“No,” Dream answered bluntly.

“We’re just waiting for Quackity to start his stream and we’re gonna watch together.”

“Oh, yeah!” Karl cackled. “You really wanna see it, Dream? Even though Quackity will probably hit on Bugsy?”

“Yeah, why should I care?” he faked disinterest, even though everyone in the call knew he would definitely care if that happened. “It probably will be funny, to be fair. And since Bug will be too busy to talk to me, I guess I can still, you know, hear her voice…” he trailed off to an almost inaudible volume and George smiled, deciding not to tease the younger boy for the sweet sentiment.

“I'll watch it with you,” Karl said. “We can all make fun of them together.”

George noted the long pause of silence before Dream softly asked, “Do you know what they’re doing, Karl?”

“Yup!”

“W-what is it?”

“Mmm, can’t say! Sorry!” Karl chirped in fake obliviousness. “Why do you want to know?”

George rolled his eyes; he knew what Karl was doing, pretending like he didn’t already know Dream would be jealous in hopes that Dream would spill to him. It’s like he and Quackity enjoyed causing Dream pain, pushing him to the edge in situations where he couldn’t vent his feelings, forcing him to keep it inside and build it up in an overwhelming pile of emotions.

“Just… curious,” Dream lied.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Karl said nonchalantly. “I’m gonna be honest though, George, can I just say, I’m a little annoyed with them.”

George laughed. “Really, why?”

Karl hummed, choosing his words carefully. “It might mess things up,” he said softly.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see what you mean by that,” George admitted vaguely. In the few minutes he had been talking to Dream, he could already tell it wasn’t going to go over well with the blond boy.

“Can you guys just… tell me what they’re doing?” Dream tried again, the desperation spilling out of him. “Why is it a big deal? What would it mess up?”

Karl giggled again. “Bugsy and Quackity like keeping their fans on their toes, you know? As Bugsy’s number one fan it would be the worst to tell you.”

“Well, I’m also Quackity’s number one anti right now so it cancels out,” Dream reasoned. “So you can tell me.”

“Aw, he admitted he’s her number one fan!” Karl teased.

Dream groaned when he realized he wouldn’t get anywhere by repeatedly asking the same question. In other words, he gave up. “When are they supposed to start?”

“Um, soon I think?” George answered vaguely as he opened Twitch on his other monitor. “He’s not live yet but he Tweeted earlier that it would be around now.”

There were a few moments of silence before Karl spoke up. “So, how have you guys been today?”

“Mm, pretty good,” George admitted, scrolling through Twitter on his phone and pretending to not hear Dream’s pitiful sighs. “Kinda slow, but not bad. What about you?”

“Good, actually. Bugsy, Naomi, and I went out for lunch earlier which was fun. Speaking of…” Karl giggled. “Naomi? And you? What’s up?”

George felt himself turn red at the mention of their relationship, whatever it was. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“I have,” he admitted happily. “I just want to make sure your stories line up.”

“Karl! No, that’s-that’s… I’m not telling you anything now.”

“George doesn’t talk about feelings, Karl. He’s not going to tell you. I know his side of the story though,” Dream said. “He’s told me.”

“What did he say?”

“I could tell you,” Dream bargained, attempting to get the information he wanted in any way possible, “if you tell me what Quackity and Bug are streaming.”

Karl cackled. “Woah, woah, woah, Dream. I don’t need to know that bad. Dang, you’re really impatient!”

“Yes, okay!” Dream snapped, annoyance in his voice. “Sue me for wanting to know what super top-secret thing that the girl I really like and the boy who constantly publicly flirts with her are doing! Because it’s obviously not just a cooking stream or roblox or else you guys wouldn’t act like the FBI put you in charge of keeping it from me. And don’t give me that garbage and ask why I assume it’s something flirty just because it’s being kept from me. I know that all of you are aware of how much I like her so Quackity is definitely doing it on purpose. Literally everyone except maybe Y/n knows I like her, I know that. So yes I want to know and yes I’m worried about what the fucking stream is.”

George and Karl were silent for a few moments, processing his rant. Maybe Karl was right, maybe it was stupid of Y/n to try to make him jealous this way. Sure, jealous Dream was entertaining, but when was it too far? Would Dream think them reading fanfiction together was funny at all or just purely exasperating? George started to think the latter was more likely.

“Shit,” Karl mumbled. “Dream—”

“Dream, I promise there’s nothing to actually be worried about,” George tried reassuring.

“Yeah, you’ll probably get jealous and it’s very understandable if you do but… Quackity’s just messing around,” Karl added.

Dream took a deep breath and almost on cue, George got a notification from Twitter that Quackity had tweeted.

“He’s live,” Karl announced softly and they waited to hear Dream’s reaction once he saw the title.

It came softly, a voice of disbelief ringing through George’s headphones. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey, you’re already trending for your joke, that should make you happy,” Karl offered and Dream knocked something over on his desk.

“Shit,” he mumbled through the mic. “Shit, shit, shit. I spilled my—shit.” A few seconds passed and George took the silence to share his screen with the others so they could watch the video together. “No, Karl, that doesn’t make me feel better. It’s not really a joke. I mean, I’ll play it off as one but… wait, don’t share your screen,” he told George. “I don’t want to watch this shit.”

“You said you did.”

“That was when I didn’t know what it was,” he replied as if it was obvious. “I don’t want to watch them read fanfiction together.”

“He doesn’t actually like her,” Karl reminded gently.

“I don’t care, it’s still embarrassing for me! It’s just a fat reminder that she doesn’t like me back and that she’s not my girlfriend.”

George wanted to slam his head against a wall. He opted for his desk instead, his forehead coming in contact with the wood with a loud THUD. It was so hard to keep his mouth shut and not just tell him about Y/n’s feelings.

“It’s, like, Quackity is rubbing it in my face that she doesn’t like me. What an asshole.”

“That’s not what he’s trying to do,” Karl said. His voice sounded as in pain as George felt. Which one of them was going to break first and tell Dream?

He didn’t know how to use words that weren’t ‘Bugsy likes you, dipshit’, so he tried something else. “It might still be funny—”

Dream wasn't laughing. Nothing about this was funny to him. “George.” Frustration was evident in his sharp tone.

“I don't get what the big deal is—”

“They're-they’re reading fanfiction! It's just gonna be a bunch of, like, romantic stories about them and, what, I'm supposed to just watch?”

“You don't have to watch it if you don't want to. I'm sure Quackity won't mind losing one viewer—”

“George, I'm being serious.”

“Calm down,” he said gently. “It's just Quackity. We told you already, he doesn't like Bugsy like that.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m okay with this,” Dream mumbled.

George took a deep breath. He did understand how Dream was in an uncomfortable situation, and even if it wasn't a big deal to him, it was to Dream.

“Hey, Dream?” Karl started gently.

“What?” he spat. He sounded like he was seconds away from disconnecting and hiding in his bed or punching a wall or doing whatever it is Dream does when he’s upset.

Karl hesitated for way too long before saying, “We can do something else if you still want to hang out with us. I don’t want to force you to watch it if it really will upset you.”

Dream breathed deeply. “I’m being dramatic,” he admitted softly, reminding George of a little kid getting reprimanded by an adult. “We can… watch it, I guess.”

“You’re not being dramatic if that’s how you feel,” Karl reassured. When did he become a therapist? George sat back as he listened to them, biting his lips in order to not spill Y/n’s secret. “If it really does make you upset, then that’s that. You’re allowed to be jealous, I mean, I understand why you are. That was literally Quackity’s plan, we expected you to be.”

“I’m not allowed to be jealous, though,” Dream countered lightly. “She’s-she’s not my girlfriend. She’s allowed to do what she wants. I have no right feeling like… like…” he trailed off and sighed.

George raised his head to look at Dream’s Discord icon empathetically.

“I didn’t know you liked her this much,” Karl admitted. “I just thought… well, I don’t know what I thought.”

George agreed. They knew Dream was whipped for Bugsy and that watching a stream of Quackity and her read fanfiction together would piss him off a little, but this was different. He sounded utterly heartbroken.

“I really do,” Dream mumbled, his voice muffled by what George assumed was his hands on his face.

Internally screaming at himself to tell his best friend something that was guaranteed to make him feel better, George wrung his hands together. He looked at his second monitor, which still showed Quackity’s starting soon screen. “Dream?”

“What?”

“Tell her.”

“I can’t, it has to b—”

“It has to be perfect, I know,” George interrupted impatiently but gently. “Tell her soon.”

Dream’s next words came in a soft, embarrassed tone, no longer defensive and combative but rather nervous and contemplative. “What if she doesn’t believe me? Or she thinks I like her for the wrong reasons?”

“Do you mean because you haven’t seen her?” Karl asked sincerely. “Because of that idea her ex got stuck in her head?”

As if suddenly realizing he was in the presence of the person who knew Bugsy better than anyone, Dream’s voice perked up. “Karl,” he paused. “Can you promise me that you won’t tell her anything I tell you?”

“Yes,” Karl replied quickly. “I promise. I want to help you and if that means not telling her, I will.”

“You heard on Quackity’s stream that she and I were FaceTiming? Like, that I’ve seen her?”

“Yeah,” George and Karl replied together.

“I’m still bitter that I found that out from watching a stream instead of from my best friend,” Karl muttered, “but continue.”

George laughed through his nose at Karl’s comment before Dream explained his concern. “Since I didn’t tell Bug that I like her before I saw her, I’m worried she’ll think I only like her now because I know what she looks like. See my problem? If I told her before, she wouldn’t believe me but if I tell her now she might think it’s because of her looks.”

“Oh,” Karl said, his voice muffled behind his hand. “I see what you’re saying. Hm, that’s… I think... I could be wrong, but I’ve talked to Naomi and we both think she’s, like, realizing you don’t need to see someone to like them.”

“How do you figure?”

Karl hesitated. “Not important. But, I think it would be fine if you told her. I think you’ve proven that you like her for more than her looks and she’s blind if she couldn’t tell you liked her before.”

George nodded to himself. “Yeah, Naomi has mentioned that to me too. I think you guys are right. And yeah, Dream, you’ve clearly liked her before so she would understand.”

“What if it makes things weird between us?” Dream asked. “You know, telling her.”

“Trust us, it won’t make things weird.”

“How should I—”

Dream was interrupted abruptly by Quackity unmuting his stream and yelling, “CHAT! HOW ARE WE TODAY?” and laughing loudly.

George flinched at the sudden change in mood. Just as he and Karl were calming Dream down, Quackity went and made the air tense again. George could feel Dream’s anxiety slowly growing.

“Again, we don’t have to watch,” Karl offered but Dream made a noise in protest.

“Let’s watch.”

The atmosphere was tense to say the least, occasional comments trying to lighten the mood about Quackity or Bugsy being funny or stupid, but overall the voice call was quiet. George had no idea what to say to Dream and he could tell Karl didn’t either. Having the chat open wasn’t helping either.

user43: GEORGE IS HERE HE’S GONNA SNITCH TO DREAM libbbyyyyyyyyy: george george george he’s watching venus: bugsy simps getting FED today user13: wattpad writers watch out ItsRainingPastels: this is so funny!! Bugity interactions are amazing Chrimsss: foxtrot???? user71: READ. FOXTROT. cantaloupe: ajsdkfhj please the look on his face when bugsy said “that could be us” user92: FOXTROT NEXT FOXTROT NEXT user48: i'm surprised dream hasn't barged into chat or their call to yell at quackity yet noraimp: i’ve been saying bugity supremacy all along and no one believed me until now hungoverhellhound: stop saying foxtrot i WILL CRY user11: SUCK IT DREAM, BUGSY AND QUACKITY ARE BETTER FOR EACH OTHER bexwastaken: i miss dream :(

George took the liberty of closing the chat so Dream didn’t have to see it.

“Thanks,” he mumbled softly. Apparently that was a good choice on George’s part.

“Chat just gets in the way,” he excused, trying to place the decision on his own reasons rather than embarrass Dream by acknowledging that he knew seeing all the comments was bothering the younger

“This story is actually kinda funny,” Dream admitted. “Well, it’s super cringey but… it’s funny that Bug thinks it’s funny.”

Karl made a small whine in adoration. “That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” Dream mumbled. “Or I won’t tell you anything ever again.”

“Were you going to?”

“Yeah, maybe, I guess,” Dream said. “If that’s okay with you. You know her better than anyone and… I obviously need advice or nothing is going to happen.”

“Dream,” Karl started formally, “I’d be honored to give you the best Bugsy advice I can offer. And to hear you say cute things like that about her because it’s adorable. I’m sure ranting about how cute she is to George is like talking to a brick wall.”

Dream hummed, a small laugh escaping him. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate, actually. He’s not very responsive. He doesn’t get it.”

“I’m sure she’s pretty and all, I’m just not good at talking about people’s feelings,” George defended.

George tuned back into the stream as Quackity and Bugsy laughed loudly. “Oh my gosh, holy shit that was wild,” Quackity exclaimed.

“Yeah, what the heck? That was so funny,” Bugsy admitted, still laughing lightly.

“Okay, okay, one down. Guys, stop spamming Foxtrot in my chat, what is that? Is that a fic? I said I already picked everything out, don’t suggest things.” Quackity looked at his phone and laughed. “Wait, I did pick that one out, actually.”

George assumed the chat was going wild and his curiosity got the best of him so he opened it.

user66: READ CHAPTER 10 hungoverhellhound: NOOO NO DON’T READ IT PLEASE I CAN’T HANDLE THIS TODAY venus: this isn’t going to go well libbbyyyyyyyyy: laksjdhjkh try not to fall in love with each other after this one ItsRainingPastels: ive heard things about this fic… everyone cries cantaloupe: YES YES noraimp: are they reading foxtr…. oh no user52: SKIP TO CHAP 10 bexwastaken: dream come get your girl smh Chrimsss: we’re about to watch bugity become real because of this fic user10: it starts slow, do chap 10 or 16!!!! user88: quack isnt in it until later lol

“They said it starts really slow though? I’m not in it until chapter 3?” Quackity scoffed. “Fine, we’ll skip ahead.”

“People are saying ‘Chapter 10’ so that one must be good?” Bugsy suggested and Quackity complied.

George closed the chat again when he registered Dream’s silence and apologized under his breath.

“Try not to fall in love because of this fic?” Quackity read. “Can’t happen because we already are in love, chat.”

Dream scoffed, mirroring Bugsy’s reaction. “In your dreams, duck boy.”

“You are, actually,” Quackity teased.

“Shut the fuck up, Quackity,” Dream grumbled to no one, and George couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.

Foxtrot — the fanfiction the chat was raving about — was really good. At least the chapter they read on the stream was. It was so well written and soft and George hadn’t heard Dream speak in a good 15 minutes. George didn’t dare look at chat after they finished reading that one, opening his phone to text Quackity instead.

“Hold on, one second, chat,” Quackity said, faking a British accent as he looked at his phone. “One second, chat.”

George looked up and saw Quackity smiling at his phone as he set it on his desk and returned to the stream. “Okay!”

George set his phone on his own desk before hearing Bugsy laugh. “Dream just texted me.”

“What did he say?” Quackity asked nervously.

“He’s…” she trailed off and laughed. “He wants to know if I’m leaving him for you. He said, ‘I understand if you have feelings for him after that’. Oh my gosh.” She giggled and George heard Dream laugh through his nose.

“Dream,” Karl laughed. “Why?”

“Do you realize how suspicious it would be if I didn’t make some sort of appearance during the stream after all the things I’ve said on Twitter and stuff? I had to joke around for the chat.”

“Fair…” George said.

“Is he watching?” Quackity asked Bugsy as if George hadn’t just told him they were. “Dream, go away. We aren’t letting you in VC. Just accept the truth,” he laughed loudly.

George shook his head to himself as he realized how much this wasn’t a joke just to mess with the fans. If it was, Quackity would have let Dream into their call so everyone could witness Dream be jealous but instead, he was almost banishing Dream to be jealous in private. The fans not seeing how Dream was actually feeling made it more real somehow. Quackity really wanted Dream and Bugsy to own up to their feelings.

“I want to strangle him,” Dream confessed jokingly. “At this point, I don’t even want to be in their call because I don’t have the energy to play up being sad. I’m just really sad.”

“I told him to stop reading actual cute ones, so it should be fine now,” George announced. “That last one was too much.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Quackity, I’m not falling in love with you,” Bugsy stood her ground with a laugh. “Not happening, bud.”

“We’ll just have to read more until you do,” Quackity cackled and George heard Dream huff.

The stream didn’t last too much longer, Quackity apparently not wanting to take the joke too far even though he already had.

“Thank god that’s over,” Dream mumbled as George unshared his screen and closed Twitch.

“It wasn’t too bad, right?” Karl asked slowly.

Dream hummed. “It was pretty bad, Karl.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed.

“But now it’s over and you can go back to talking to Bugsy and have her full attention,” George said positively.

“How am I supposed to talk to her after that?”

“Like normal?”

“What if she brings it up?”

“Then you say, ‘Bugsy, I don’t want to talk about this because I like you’,” Karl suggested. “Simple.”

“Okay, you are no help. No longer coming to you for advice.”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. Just… tell her it was funny but don’t elaborate. She’s good at picking up on when people are uncomfortable, she’ll drop it.”

“Or tell her you like her,” George agreed and Karl laughed as Dream groaned.

“No. Not yet.”

“Not yet,” George mimed. “But soon.”

Dream took another deep breath. “Soon.”

__________

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tags: CLOSED @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @iamnothereatthemoment @charsdummb @jeyyes @notgeoreg @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn @tinyegg @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @bellomi-clarke @possiblyanxioushuman @crybabyjabby @mushroom-main @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk @haseulreturns @queenwastaken @sunbunniie @losingvienna @bi-narystars @zero-nightshade @erinitoburrito @sparklykeylime @youhyakuya @danny-devitowo @clubfairy @loser-keiji @oi-itsemily @alm334 @the-katastrophe @wreny24 @applecakeradio @unicornblood4ever @aha-red @brendalopez99 @spacecluster @justonemoreepisode @strawbrinkofdeath @aikochan4859 @chaotic-tieflings @dreamsofficialwife @where-thesundoesntshine @jamiealenaa @unstableye @kageyamama-hinatatata @officiallyunofficialperson @secretly-a-weeb @localsimp @loxbbg @rhymeorreason1 @flubblubbb @kiritokunuwu @sylum @raining13lemonade @aiyncel @ghostfacefricker6969 @avengemepercy @modyoonie @givemeyourcrunchbars @donttellaweirdweakling @dreamiewrites @misfortunatem00n @mayempress @strang-ersclub @panic-at-space-camp @netheriteaxes @kaqinq @momo-has-a-gun @lunelicmoone @beller-18 @bluechocolatemint @mythicalamphitrite @crypticcandi @80sfeel @asianfrustration13 @justanunknown @libbynotfound @osculatcr @bindythedemon @haikyall @hyuckslytherin @thatonearieschild @the-perfect-gemini @ialexabsuniverse @sleepingalaska @renjunniex @rebellionburnsthemup @moonchildwildx @sarcasticmichelle @carat-eri @ravennightingaleandavatempus @isthatyouritalian @cha0ticg0b1in @suwunarin @bxsmentchildxx @mintchip17 @vincent-stargogh @jules-skye @askgeoff @d-fendyr @diedestress @idiotinnit @gabbysblogthingy @call-me-soap @fujiapfel @stxrryb1tch @onlynarry @squarky-sheep @ecao @ok-honey-blog @saltishima-rex @kodzukatcore @gwendolyn02 @kiwismoothies @flippyninja @xfihvru @anqelanqel @letkeefeswear @cantaloupe-draws @what-is-the-creature-oh-glob @theboywhocriedlupin

#rpf #real person fiction #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcty x reader #mcyt x y/n #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #dream social media fic #social media au

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babymetaldoll · 4 years ago

Text

"The Sean Hotchner effect" (Spencer Reid / Reader)

My gif 😉

Requested: Yes

Summary: Spencer is jealous 'cos reader (and the rest of the female team) thinks Hotchner's younger brother is hot.

Warnings: Cursing

Category: Fluff

Word count: 4,5K

A/N: I can' believe I actually wrote a fic! I've been so busy taking care of my grandparents I've just been updating DIWK, 'cos those chapters were long written and edited. Hope you all enjoy this little story, I'll bring you a more next week, hopefully! send you all my love!! be safe babes!

Masterlist

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Working at the BAU, the team was used to seeing the worst of human behavior. Murder scenes, abuse, psychopath, you name it.

That's why seeing the apparition that walked into the bullpen that morning was such a big shock for us, the team's females.

- "What are you doing out of your bunker?"- Elle asked Penelope, who was standing next to my desk. I whipped my head, surprised to see Garcia there, out of the blue, not even looking at us. Instead, her eyes were fixated on someone who wasn't Derek.

- "I was on my way to file the things that I... file?"- Garcia made a pause as Elle and I slowly turned and looked at the guy our tech analyst couldn't stop staring at.

He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde, perfect smile. The kind of guy that could definitely get every girl's attention. We didn't get many of those at the BAU that often, except, of course, for Dr. Spencer Reid. My best friend was hands down the hottest agent in the whole FBI, and I enjoyed having him near. But this guy was completely different.

- "Who is that?"- Elle asked and stood by our side.

- "The Future Mr. Garcia,"- Penelope whispered as the tall young man walked over us and cut us one flirtatious smile. I couldn't help it and returned the smile.

- "Hi"- I smiled and waved- "How can I help you?"

- "Hey. I'm..."

- "Sean!"- Derek Worst time ever Morgan ruined the whole moment as he walked over and took that hot guy away from us. Now at least we knew his name was Sean.

- "You must be looking for your brother."- Morgan said and tapped on his back.

- "Yeah."

- "Right this way"- and that's how that apparition was gone from our lives and directed straight to... Aaron Hotchner's office?

- "Brother as in?"- Elle asked and turned to us, confused- "That's Hotch's brother?!"

- "Maybe Hotch is adopted,"- Garcia whispered, not taking her eyes from Sean until he disappeared behind the door.

- "I feel scammed. We didn't get the hot brother"- I sighed and shook my head- "Well, I might have never solved a case with that smile around the bullpen"- Elle and Penelope giggled, but someone coughed behind my back, and immediately, I knew who he was.

- "Who are you guys talking about?"

Spence Walter Reid was standing right behind my back, and the look in his eyes wasn't as sweet and friendly as I was already used to. He was upset. I just didn't know why.

- "No one"- I lied and looked away.

- "Who were you all staring at?"- Reid asked. I quickly returned to my desk (right in front of his), grabbed a few files, and pretended to be working.

- "Aaron's brother"- Elle explained- "Apparently, we got the wrong Hotchner."

- "Sean?"- Spencer frowned and looked at us- "He just got into Georgetown law school. Maybe he came to pick up his brother to celebrate."

- "Who is gonna celebrate?"- JJ walked over, holding a bunch of folders, and looked at us.

- "Hotch and my future husband"- Garcia sighed and kept looking over at Aaron's door.

- "Sean, Hotch's brother is here, and believe me, he looks nothing like his brother."

Elle smiled and moved a chair across from her desk to make sure she had the best seat in the room to see Sean when he walked out. I shook my head as Elle winked at me.

- "Stop pretending you didn't see him, (Y/N). You were the one who talked to him."

I swear, I could feel Spencer's eyes on me, burning my skin. I slowly turned around and looked at him with a small, innocent smile. But all I got in return was a stern look.

- "I just... wanted to... help him"- I tried to excuse myself, but Elle laughed, and Garcia followed.

- "Sure, babe. He looked like he was hopelessly lost in the BAU. He needed your help to find his brother."- I don't know why Elle was acting like that, but she made sure Spencer would be even more upset than he already was.

- "Stop it! I just asked if he needed any help."

- "Oh! and you would have given him a hand with anything he needed, wouldn't you?"- Elle chuckled and winked again.

- "Oh sweet Jesus, I would. All he has to do is ask, and he..."- Penelope got carried away in second, and she only paused her words when Hotch's door slammed open, and we all looked at Sean storming out of the office.

- "That's Hotch's brother?"- JJ asked, surprised. Elle nodded and literally bit her lips as she stared at him, walking over. Penelope barely even blinked, and I made my best not to make eye contact with him. Instead, I looked at Reid. And he locked eyes in mine, but again, his look was cold.

- "I don't see it"- JJ stared at Sean as he clearly argued with Hotch. I stayed still, sitting behind my desk, looking at the files.

- "You know what?! Don't profile me, Aaron!"- Sean yelled, and I could only imagine Penelope's crush growing bigger with each word that came from his mouth.

- "Now I see it!"- JJ followed Sean with her eyes as he rushed out of the BAU.

- "I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you walk away."- Penelope whispered, and we all giggled.

- "Do you think Hotch is hiding that ass?"- Elle asked, and I couldn't hold the laughter.

- "I didn't want to think of that!"

- "Oh please!! (Y/N) stop being such a goodie-goodie!!"- Elle smacked my arm and shook her head- "You stared at his ass. Deal with it. You are single! You don't have to pretend you don't see a hot guy when you see one."

- "I saw him. He was cute. I'm just... not... that... affected...."

- "You don't have to pretend,"- Spencer said suddenly and raised an eyebrow- "Your body language indicates that you are nervous. You are blinking rapidly, our pupils are dilated, and you've been bouncing your knees since you sat down. Obviously, Hotch's brother affected you."

I opened my mouth to answer, but Hotch himself interrupted us and announced we had a case. Spencer just kept his eyes on mine for a few more seconds before walking away quickly to the conference room.

- "Looks like pretty boy is jealous,"- Elle teased and stood up too- "I don't know why if he ain't your boyfriend."

- "I know he ain't my boyfriend, and I'm sure he is not jealous. You are all just acting like school girls around a hot guy."- I tried to argue as I stood up and followed them to the conference room.

- "Oh honey, when you see a guy like that, you just can't help it."- Garcia smiled and sighed- "He was the sugar that got me going for the rest of the day."

- "It's only nine am."- JJ added, and Garcia just sighed.

- "That's how good it was."

The case was in Terra Mesa, New Mexico. A clearly angry Hotch announced wheels up in thirty, and we all headed back to our desk to gather our things.

- "Hey, I brought you back your copy of The Illustrated Man"- I walked to Spencer and handed him over his book- "Maybe after the case, we can get a coffee and talk about it."

- "Maybe not"- he grabbed it from my hands and put it on his satchel.

- "Why not?"

- "I don't feel like it."- Spencer avoided looking at me. He just closed his bag and walked away from me.

- "Hey! What did I do?"- I asked him and followed him, but he didn't even look at me.

- "Spencer, I'm talking to you!"

- "And as you can notice, I don't wanna talk to you."

His answer stopped me in my tracks and left me speechless. Spencer got into the elevator and pushed the button to close the door as fast as possible.

He had never acted like that with me. He had never talked to me like that. Shit! He had never been an asshole with me before. I had seen Reid being a jerk with people when he is mad, but he had never been like that with me. And all that just 'cos me, and the girls were a little unprofessional?

Apparently, Spencer was furious with me because during the whole investigation, he kept avoiding me. Of course, it didn't help that Hotch paired me with Reid and Morgan to talk to a young girl who had been abducted from the crime scene.

- "So, pretty girl, I saw you yesterday. Your eyes were shining when you talked to Sean"- Morgan started teasing me the second we got into the SUV.

- "I don't know what you are talking about."- I whispered and looked outside.

- "Oh please, you, Garcia, JJ, even Elle, the four girls were drooling over Hotchner's younger brother."

- "That's not true"- I denied right away- "We were all surprised. I had no idea Hotch had a brother."

And Spencer just snorted at my words.

- "What?"- I turned around and looked at him. He was sitting at the back seat, alone, arms crossed on his chest, avoiding eye contact.

- "Maybe you should stop talking about Hotch's hot brother and focus on the case."- his voice was cold and distant. I tried to read him, but all I could see was anger.

- "Ok, kid."- Morgan chuckled and shook his head - "No need to get all defensive."

- "I'm not defensive. I'm just saying we have to solve a case. People are dead, and you are still rambling about how hot Hotchner's brother is. We are not a fucking gossip show. Enough with it already."

I widened my eyes as I stared at him, bitter and angry. Not really a good combo. Spencer is one passive-aggressive asshole when he is mad, and you don't want to deal with him under those circumstances. Believe me.

But Derek just laughed and continued driving. He winked at me and pretended Spencer hadn't said anything hurtful or even evil. But, to be honest, Morgan looked composed and even amused. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was actually enjoying that awkward ride.

I wish I could tell you that was all Spencer did that day, but no. He actually exceeded himself in the art of being an asshole.

- "We are looking for a cult leader."- Reid started giving the profile to the police department- "Typically men between the age of 25 and 35"- he made a pause and looked at me.

- "What?"- I whispered, thinking maybe he wanted me to continue talking.

- "Nothing. I thought you were going to start giggling or sighing."- Elle and Morgan looked surprised as Gideon frowned, not getting Reid's comment.

- "Over a sociopath underachiever with an extremely abusive childhood?"- I asked him, as I continued describing the profile- "Why would I?"

- "I don't know."- he shrugged and continued walking around the office -"I thought after yesterday, it was going to be your usual behavior around men that age."

- "Reid"- Hotch's voice was cold and severe. Spencer looked at him and turned around to find an empty seat. Aaron continued giving the profile, and I turned to my best friend, enraged. I wasn't going to tolerate that passive-aggressive attitude.

- "Fuck you."- I mouthed and stared straight into his eyes.

Avoiding and ignoring Reid was a challenging task to achieve. Hotch was nice and wise enough to keep us apart for the rest of the day, but that didn't stop him from staring. And his eyes burned my skin each time we were together in the same room.

I made my best effort and avoided looking at him the whole time. But I felt him staring. And though I was honestly mad at him now, a part of me just wondered what on earth was he so upset about?

I found out the whole truth later that night, back at the hotel. I was already in bed, trying to forget about the case, 'cos it had already been solved, and we were supposed to go back home early the following day.

I was alone, 'cos my roommate Elle was in the hotel bar with JJ and Morgan. I didn't feel like going. I just wanted my pajamas and do nothing.

Fine, that's not what I wanted to do. I wanted to be with Reid, talking about The Illustrated man, or any other book, drinking coffee, making jokes, laughing.

But he was mad at me, and now I was mad at him too, which meant things weren't going to be smooth between us in a long while. We had only fought once before until that day. It happened when we first became friends, and we argued over some random Star Wars fact. He didn't admit he was wrong, and when I showed him I was right, he got all defensive and refused to talk to me for a whole week.

Of course, this time, it was going to be a hundred times worse.

I debated whether I should or shouldn't call Reid and yell at him when I heard someone knocking on my door. Of course, I thought it was Elle, so I dragged my weary body from the bed, arguing I had explicitly told her she had to bring her key when she left the room.

But no. It wasn't Elle. In the hall, looking like shit, I found Doctor Spencer Walter Reid.

It wasn't a good sign the way my heart skipped a beat the second I saw him. It didn't get any better when the two of us just stared at each other in silence for a moment, and I felt my whole body tremble only by his presence. I couldn't control it even if I wanted to. I loved him, and it was getting too hard to hide.

- "What are you doing here?"- I made sure my voice was as upset as possible and even made an extra effort to furrow my brows as I stared into his eyes. His look had softened, and you could tell he was nervous. He scratched his hair and fixed his nerdy glasses before speaking.

- "I needed... I wanted... I want to talk to you."- Spencer finally said and sighed, looking at me.

- "Why would I want to talk to you after you humiliated me in front of the whole police department?"

I spat each word and tried to slam the door on his face, but he stopped me before succeeding.

- "Wait, please, (Y/N)"- he pushed the door open and followed me inside the room.

- "Get out, Reid!"- I argued immediately, but he didn't listen. He actually closed the door behind his back and stood behind me. I refused to look at him, 'cos I knew what would happen if I did: I would forgive him too quickly.

- "(Y/N), I'm so sorry. I know I was an asshole. I didn't mean it. I was completely out of place."

Spencer literally vomited his speech in less than three seconds and stayed wordless and silent afterward. I crossed my arms on my chest and stayed still. I really didn't want to talk to him.

- "I'm sorry"- his voice was now a tiny whisper that somehow got inside my heart, melting the fortress I kept building against him.

- "Why did you do it?"- I asked the most straightforward question, but he didn't answer. Spencer stayed quiet for at least two minutes. So I turned around and faced him. His eyes were red, and he was fighting the tears back.

- "Why did you humiliate me, Spencer?"

- "I didn't mean to."

- "So? I don't care what you meant. You did it anyway. You fucking humiliated me in front of the team and in front of the whole police office, and why? 'Cos you were mad at me for being unprofessional? Excuse me, but I think what you did lacked more professionalism than anything I had ever done."

I knew it was a mistake. I knew I didn't have to look at Spencer while I spoke. But I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to cry either, but I was already too upset and way too tired, so the tears started falling down my cheeks. And his followed quickly.

- "I'm so sorry,"- he repeated and bit his lips, staring at me.

- "Why did you do it, Spencer?"- I asked him again, 'cos I still didn't know why he had hurt me so deeply.

- "I was wrong..."

- "Why did you do it?"

I asked for the third time, and my eyes got lost in his. Spencer was holding his breath and debating himself. I could almost hear his thoughts, 'cos it was clear he was overthinking everything going on inside his head.

But he didn't say anything. Spencer just wiped off a few tears that rolled down his cheeks and shook his head. The silence in the room was overwhelming, and all I managed to do was to sigh, disappointed and broken-hearted, and walk to the door and open it. I only wanted him to leave, but he didn't even move. He just looked at me, clenching his jaw, fighting the tears back.

- "I did it because I am in love with you."

Spencer whispered in the most anticlimactic way possible. I frowned, confused, as he didn't even move. I stared at his gestures, his face blood-red in a weird mix of embarrassment and anger.

- "I love you so much it's driving me insane, (Y/N). I've been trying to tell you how I feel for weeks, but I just..."- he ran his hands through his hair, openly frustrated with his own way to deal with the situation, as I just stayed still, trying to understand what was going on.

- "I know it was stupid, and I wish I could do it differently, but I didn't know what to do. But then I saw you looking at Sean, and I knew you would never look at me the same way, 'cos I know I'm not..."

There was no bigger force in the universe than the one that moved my body unconsciously against Spencer. I grabbed his face with both hands and planted a kiss on his lips to shut him up. I didn't even think about what I was doing. I just did it 'cos I didn't want to listen to his rambling anymore. For once, probably for the very first time ever since we met, I wanted to shut Spencer Reid up. And the best way I could do that was kissing him until my lips felt numb.

I didn't even let him hesitate. He jumped as soon as I touched him, but he didn't reject me at all. Instead, he wide opened his eyes and stared at me as I winked at him, deepening the kiss.

Spencer's hands slowly found their way to my waist and held me closer to him. His lips were soft and warm, moving carefully along with mine, and as he relaxed into the kiss, the better it got.

I had wasted so much time (mostly at work, bored, avoiding paperwork) fantasizing about kissing Spencer. How his lips would feel and taste. If he would make any noise, if he'd be rough or soft... and now there I was, getting all the answers I ever needed.

My heartbeat faster when I opened my eyes and saw him, deep concentrated into the endless kiss. My hands played with his hair, and I felt him hum, pleased with my movements. I couldn't help myself and smiled, not stopping the kiss.

- "What?"- Spencer asked, but his lips didn't move from mine. Neither of us wanted to stop.

- "Nothing,"- I whispered and shook my head softly- "I just like kissing you."

- "I like kissing you too,"- he answered and moved his hands from my waist to my cheeks and held my face. His hands were so big I could feel him covering most of my cheek. He made me feel secure, safe. Loved. All that only from cupping my face.

- "I love you."- Spencer whispered and opened his eyes. I looked at him and sighed, trying to keep myself together, when all I really wanted was to yell and jump and act like a teenager in love.

- "Me too."

That was all I managed to answer, though I knew he deserved better. He deserved to know how much I loved him, how crazy I was over everything he did. Everything he was. But I couldn't tell him that, not at that minute at least. That night I couldn't really speak much because all I wanted to do was to kiss him. I wanted to kiss Spencer Reid until my lips burned.

But he didn't let me fulfill my dream. As soon as he heard me, he stopped the kiss and stayed very, very still.

- "What happened?"- I panicked, I don't know why- "Did I overstep..."

- "You love me?"- he interrupted me, and his eyes filled with tears. Happy tears. His smile was soft and warm as he stared at me, waiting for an answer.

- "I do,"- I murmured and blushed. Was it too late to blush? Maybe, but I couldn't help it. Not when he was looking at me like that. Like I was the most beautiful woman on earth. No. Like I was the only woman on earth for him.

- "I'm so sorry..."

But I really didn't want to listen to his apology. I had already forgiven him. All I wanted was to kiss him again. And again.

I crushed my lips against his, and this time, I felt him smiling into the kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he locked his around my waist. We were so close I could feel the warmth of his body as he relaxed a little more, and his fingers started caressing the small on my back.

- "Come here."

I took a few steps back, and he followed, keeping as close to me as possible. Finally, I dragged him to my bed, and he laid by my side. Our legs were intertwined as we melted on that mattress, just kissing.

I honestly never imagined I would kiss Spencer. Maybe that's why I enjoyed it and tasted him (and the moment) in slow motion. He sighed and smiled as his lips and tongue played with mine. One of his hands held my waist as the other played with my hair.

It was heaven. I didn't imagine anything better than being on that bed kissing Spencer Reid. He whispered he loved me again, and I sighed. For a second, it felt I was in a dream.

- "Ok, mama, get out of that.... WHOO!"- Derek, JJ, and Elle stormed into the door and caught Spencer and I kissing on the bed. I felt like a teenager all over again.

- "What the..."- Elle asked was holding the key in her hands, eyes wide opened, in shock.

- "My man!"- Morgan was about to start clapping when JJ grabbed him and Elle's arm.

- "The guys need some privacy. Come on, let's go. You can sleep in my room, Elle"- JJ smiled and closed the door behind her back, but less than a second later, Derek walked in again.

- "Smile to Garcia!"- Derek waved, holding his phone. Spencer closed his eyes and covered his face, embarrassed as I grabbed a pillow and threw it over him.

- "Get the fuck out of my room!"- I shouted, and JJ had to pull Morgan's sleeve to get him out of there. Once the door was closed (again), we waited a few seconds in case Derek tried to interrupt us one more time. But he didn't. Spencer's cheeks were burning red, and he looked so embarrassed it was too sweet. So I leaned over him and kissed the tip of his nose.

- "Hi,"- I whispered and smiled. Reid chuckled and moved closer to me, reaching my lips.

- "Hi."- I sighed, strangely relieved to feel his lips on mine again. I was like my body had already gotten used to kissing him and wanted to do nothing else from that moment on.

- "Hi,"- I repeated and smiled.

- "Hi,"- Reid said again and wrapped his arms around me, moving me until I was sitting on his lap. Life was perfect.

- "I'm so glad Hotch's brother came to visit. He should come more often,"- I murmured and giggled. Spencer frowned and shook his head.

- "I think we are good."- he answered and narrowed his eyes.

- "If he hadn't come, you wouldn't have gotten so jealous, and we wouldn't be kissing right now."- I added, and rubbed his lips with mines, just to make a point. Spencer smiled and fully kissed me.

- "I will send him a muffin basket to George town, then."

- "That's very thoughtful. I love that about you."

- "I love everything about you,"- Spencer whispered and sighed, staring into my eyes.

- "Does this mean we are dating?"- I had to ask. Spencer wide opened his eyes and didn't move for a few seconds -"I'm just asking 'cos you said you loved m and I love you, and if you love and I love you, I'm pretty sure dating would the logical thing to do. But if you don't want to, I would totally understand. I mean, maybe I am assuming..."- Spencer's lips against mine ended with my senseless rambling, and he chuckled into the kiss.

- "What?"- I asked him but didn't move my lips from his. Already that might have become my favorite way to talk to him.

- "You are adorable when you ramble."

- "Shut up"- and Spencer smiled

- "Would you be my girlfriend?"- he simply asked and rested his forehead against mine as he stared at me. I smiled and sighed, pretending to be considering my options. I didn't have any. I wanted to be his.

- "Yes,"- I whispered and kissed him one more time- "I would love to, just promise me you will never be a passive-aggressive jerk with me."

- "Never"- Spencer kissed me, and his hands held me tighter- "I'm so sorry."

- "Just kiss me a few more times so I can properly forgive you"- Reid smiled and crushed his lips against mines.

- "Anything for you."

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @all-tings-diego

#Spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #babymetaldoll writes #babymetaldoll edits #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

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library hours [reimagined] - spencer reid

warnings: age gap, professor / student, maybe a swear word or two, a lil tension, but mainly a fluffy first interaction word count: 1.7k summary: a late night at the university library leads to reader meeting a certain handsome professor.

a/n: this is a reimagined / rewritten version of this fic. for those interested, the original centres around baby!spencer. both fics start off pretty much the same, what differs is the interaction between spencer and reader.

There was something you always enjoyed about the going to the library.

Perhaps it was the way every single person that walked through the threshold had a purpose. A mission to complete. Perhaps it was the quiet. The solace you felt sitting alone in a corner researching various topics, for class and for recreational purposes.

The university library had quickly become your second home. A location you frequented more than your own dorm room. It wasn’t always to study, no. You people watched. Doodled. Even napped there from time to time. The place brought you peace, and by the time you senior year rolled around, you saw the librarians more than your college friends.

The university library was also the place where you first met a certain handsome professor, doctor - which in time became the main reason why you liked it so much.

Lights were slowly being turned off section by section. A vacuum came to life in one of the aisles. People started to scramble from their seats - shoving their things into their backpacks, throwing out empty coffee cups into the overflowing bins, checking out books they might still use that evening.

All signs indicating it was time to go.

Dolly, one of the librarians, ushered towards you. Her jacket draped over her shoulders, her bag in hand. She gave you the usual spiel of how you can stay until the janitor is finished cleaning, to which you politely nodded along. She wished you a pleasant night, and with a “see you tomorrow” she hurried out the door.

Once she was out of sight, you groaned under your breath and ran your fingers through your hair. You had an assignment due tomorrow, one you started hours ago and only managed to formulate three total sentences. Your gut was telling you there was no way you were going to finish now, especially since you had about thirty minutes until you would have to leave.

Leaning back in your chair, you fluttered your eyes closed in an attempt to collect your thoughts. The tranquil feeling didn’t last long however, as you were abruptly brought back to reality by someone loudly clearing their throat. You immediately sat back up and quickly scanned the space for the source of the interruption.

A tall brunette man stood a few tables away, his hands slowly sliding into the pockets of his pants. He was definitely older, by how much you couldn't quite tell. But, you definitely took notice of how handsome he was.

“The library is closed for the night.” He stated, the tone of his voice calm yet stern.

“I have permission to be here.” You retorted with as much confidence as you could muster, but the mysterious man didn't seem impressed with your answer. With an arched brow, he took a firm step in your direction.

“From who?” He challenged, as if he was waiting to catch you in a lie.

You folded your arms across your chest, unwilling to give in to whatever game he was playing. “Dolly, the librarian. I could call her if you don't believe me?”

The brunette didn’t respond. Instead, his lips twirled slightly upwards into a sly smirk and with the way he was now looking at you, you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You only hoped he didn't see the faint pink blush now present on your facial features.

“May I?” The man asked after a brief moment of silence, pointing to to the chair beside yours. You found yourself nodding, before quickly turning your attention away from him, and back to the book in front of you.

While he made himself comfortable, his leg brushed against yours. The sudden close contact sent a jolt down your spine and you shivered. A small act he definitely noticed.

“You’re not some sort of killer, are you? You’re not here to murder me?” You asked, tilting your head to once again look at the man. Shaking his head, he let out a wholehearted chuckle.

“No, I’m definitely not a murder.” He reassured.

“Definitely? That's over selling it, don't you think? It’s exactly the kind of thing a murder would say.” You teased in response, gaining a little bit of your courage back. He didn't reply. The smirk on his face widened just a little and he eyed you silently, as if you were a treasure map he was desperate to solve.

The two of you stared at one another for what felt like eternity. There was something amicable about the seconds that passed as you looked into his hazel eyes. Something harmonious. Friendly. Strong.

When you finally broke contact and proceeded to return to working on your assignment, you could still feel his gaze burning into the side of your head. In any other situation, with any other stranger, the feeling would have made you uncomfortable. Scared even. But there was something quite thrilling about the mysterious brunette sitting beside you.

“I’m a profiler.” He said after another moment of comfortable silence. “I work for the FBI as part of their Behavioral Analysis Unit.” He added as you glanced up at him from your notes, intrigue gracing your facial features. The statement was to make you feel safer in his presence - not that it was needed since you already felt strangely guarded around him.

You smiled, dropping your pen and shifting in your chair to face him completely. “So, agent, what are you doing at a university library on a Thursday night? Did the bad guys take a break?”

“Doctor.” He calmly corrected.

“What?”

“It’s doctor, not agent.” He said, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I have PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering.”

The smug look on his face earned him a playful eye roll. “You don’t happen to have a PhD in History under your belt, do you, doctor? Because that would be very helpful right about now.”

“No, but I do have an eidetic memory and can read twenty-thousand words per minute.” He declared and you gaped at him in disbelief, mouth parting ever so slightly in shock.

Great, you thought, as if he wasn't intimidating enough.

“You could have just said you were a superhero.” You joked before leaning in towards him ever so slightly. The faint whiff of his cologne caught you off a little off guard, and you took a mental note to never again settle for someone that only used body spray. “Don’t worry, I’m really good with secrets. I won’t tell anyone.” You whispered and gently pressed your index finger to your lips.

The comment caused the handsome doctor to throw his head back in a whole-hearted laugh. He placed a hand on his stomach as you slowly shifted back to your previous position, chewing down on the inside of your cheek down to stop yourself from commenting on how good he looked.

“Am I going to get an answer to my previous question?” You asked once the laughter died down, your assignment long forgotten.

“I teach here.”

The statement earned him another eye roll. “Seriously? Is there anything you don't or can't do?”

It was his turn to lean in. He rested his elbows on his knees and intertwined his fingers together, his hazel eyes never leaving yours. The air hitched in your lungs at his proximity. You felt as if every single cell in your body was shaking.

“Well, us superheroes, we like to stay busy.” He whispered, his cool minty breath hitting you in the process, sending a shiver down your spine.

You cleared your throat, a timid smile appearing on your face. “There uhm, there’s this diner not far from here. It’s twenty-four hours meaning they won’t kick us out. Would you like to come with me? We can have coffee?”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved back in his seat and ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. You bit down on your bottom lip, wondering what was going through his mind. Wondering if perhaps you had overstepped some sort of boundary since he was a professor and you were a student.

But, it was just coffee. Nothing more. That wasn't so bad... Right?

“Coffee sounds nice.” He responded with a smile, after what felt like forever.

Outside, there wasn’t a cloud in the night sky making the million stars shine all that brighter. They looked like perfect sugar granules spilled on a dark surface, accompanied by the glowing moonlight.

The breathtaking sight was accompanied by street lamps. They illuminated the path while you walked side by side, almost in sync. Shoulders faintly brushing against one another.

“How long have you been a profiler?” You asked, looking ahead. The wind blew lightly through your hair causing your brunette companion to turn his head and observe you quietly. A smile crept up on his lips.

“I joined when I was twenty-two.” He answered. You glanced up at him for a brief moment - that wasn't much younger than you now. The look in his eyes suggested he knew that’s what you were thinking.

“Do you like it? Or do you prefer teaching?”

He licked his lips, thinking. As he furrowed his brows together, you noticed the unobtrusive age lines defining his handsome features. Each individual crease telling a different story, and you found yourself hoping you would one day be lucky enough to hear them.

“Every job has its pros and cons.” The brunette man stated eventually, lightly shrugging his shoulders.

You couldn't help but let out a soft giggle at his answer. “Okay professor, now you just sound conventional.”

He chuckled, his hands sliding into the front pockets of his pants. “I’ve been called many things in my life, miss. Conventional was never one of them.”

“It’s Y/N. My name, uhm, my name is Y/N.”

You both stopped once you introduced yourself, simultaneously turning in your spots, so that you were facing each other completely.

“Y/N...” He tested your name on his tongue, and a smile embellished your features because for some reason it sounded incredibly striking coming out of his lips.

“It suits you.” He retorted and the blood rushed to your face. Now, he definitely noticed the blush, you thought. He didn’t comment on it however. Instead, he proceeded to introduce himself, “My name is Spencer. Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

masterlist

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor, @idroppedmygourd, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @willowrose99

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #professor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #professor reid #prof reid

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sundayswiththeilluminati · 3 years ago

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Continued from this post, Part 3 of my discussion of Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage. This time: what happens to espionage assets in the long run? Do they break contact, and why? What might have been in store for Essek?

At the treaty meeting Essek tells Ludinus to his face that he wants no further contact with the Assembly, not even to learn what the Assembly discovers via their own beacon. He’s far from the first asset to try to sever their relationship, and it ends in one of three ways: they don’t manage to break contact, they break contact but voluntarily return, or (rarest of all) they end the relationship permanently.

Most attempts don’t go beyond option 1, because intelligence agencies are not in the business of respecting their assets’ choices. Handlers are skilled in keeping the upper hand in their asset relationships and will take any further opportunity to gain leverage by compromising the asset. For instance they’ll often pay for information even if the asset hasn’t requested it, because money changing hands makes it far harder for an asset to frame their activities positively to their own side if they attempt to confess (”You expect us to believe they were blackmailing you when you got $10,000 to hand over the secret manual?” etc.) And when push comes to shove most people aren’t willing to accept the severe punishments for espionage. An asset’s threat to confess is more likely a negotiating ploy than a serious option.

Some assets, especially nervous or ego-driven ones, get the carrot: the KGB did a strong line in awarding secret medals to convince them they were doing important, well-regarded work and that the KGB would protect them - not an empty reassurance, as highly-placed moles like Aldrich Ames warranted elaborate ops involving double and triple agents to avert suspicions. And some assets get the stick: the handler tightens the screws using whatever leverage they’ve gained, implies that they’re already “too far in to go back,” or gives some time for those who were blackmailed into spying to think about the consequences of exposure.[1]

Those who get as far as option two, breaking it off and later returning, are usually driven away by fear but back by finances. Fantasy spies have all sorts of motives but in real life the majority are in it for the money. Assets, as you might imagine, make bad choices. About half start selling secrets just to stave off massive debt from overspending and poor financial decisions (the rest feel underpaid.) So even if these assets stop temporarily, the circumstances that drove them to espionage in the first place are still very much present. In these cases all a handler has to do is shrug and say, “You know where to find us.” Infamous FBI mole Robert Hanssen broke off contact with his Russian handlers when the Soviet Union collapsed, fearing he might get outed in the chaos, but linked back up with them just 10 months later when, surprise surprise, he needed some cash.

And then there are the rare handful who stop completely. There’s a bit of survivor(?) bias here because anyone who passes along secrets, breaks off the relationship before being caught, and manages to get away with it is by definition someone we don’t know about. Those who do manage to break contact long-term are usually able to do so because they left the situation that gave them access to interesting secrets and therefore the controlling agency determined they were no longer a useful resource and not worth pursuing. But even if an asset stops working for an agency, they’re far from forgotten - and far from off the hook. Names and evidence of their espionage would be kept on file for potential use as blackmail, leverage in state-to-state negotiations, or expendable material to prove bona fides in ops involving fake defectors or triple agents. A surprising number of spies are caught/outed years after their espionage ended.

Very few assets permanently sever their espionage relationships the hard way: making a genuine confession and accepting punishment. But it’s not unheard-of, especially if the espionage was brief and the asset believes the damage can be repaired. In 1989 Army signals analyst Michael Peri disappeared from his post in West Germany along with a portable computer containing numerous classified documents. Eleven days later he returned to his previous post with the computer and voluntarily confessed to the theft and sort-of defection to East Germany. When interrogated, Peri - who had been a model soldier until that point - said he felt overworked and underappreciated by his superiors, though he couldn’t entirely explain his decisions either to leave or to return (a sexy female Russian agent might also have been involved). He received a 30-year sentence.

Marine Clayton Lonetree, a guard stationed at the US Embassy in Moscow in 1985, was blackmailed over an affair to hand over details on the embassy compound for a year, but his conscience finally got the better of him and he confessed in late 1986. Being a Marine he faced the very real prospect of death by firing squad, but the court martial ended up giving him a 30-year sentence. It was later reduced to 15 after the Marine Corps Commandant wrote a letter to the Navy Secretary on his behalf attributing the young Marine’s actions not to treason or greed but to loneliness, naivety, and poor judgement.[2]

Going back to Essek’s case, he’s already in the minority of espionage assets because he doesn’t want money in return for the secrets he passes along; though the knowledge the Assembly promises him in return fulfills a similar desire, Essek doesn’t need that knowledge to pay off the equivalent of debt or to maintain his lifestyle. He has no pressures at home that force him to continue spying. With the beacons returned, the fall guys in place, and their tracks seemingly covered, he tells Ludinus that all he wants is to be rid of the entire affair. That rules out option one (he sincerely means to cut the Assembly off) and option two (he won’t be driven back by need.)

Essek is also in an unusual position in that the worst of the damage he caused is repairable - just return the beacons.[3] A secret, once compromised, can’t be un-compromised. If an asset hands over a cipher machine they can’t fix the situation by stealing the cipher machine back; the foreign agency they sold it to has already studied the machine and learned its secrets, meaning it’s now effectively useless. But returning the beacons restores what the Kryn lost. While keeping dunamancy secret gives the Kryn a tactical edge, and I’m sure the Dynasty would prefer to keep the magical soulstones of their elite hidden from their long-time rival, the beacons don’t need to be secret to work. Essek therefore has a much better chance than most to simply repair the damage, cut off his handlers, and try to forget the whole affair ever happened. He might even think that, now that the Assembly has their own beacon, they’ll have no further use for him and will just leave him alone.

But from the Cerberus Assembly's perspective, this fruit still has plenty of juice in it and they risk nothing by continuing to squeeze. Now that they have their own beacon Essek’s knowledge becomes even more valuable. He has access to hundreds of years of dunamantic spellcrafting - and more importantly the rite of consecution, since the Assembly were probably after beacons in the first place to make themselves immortal. If Essek is caught, it’s treason for him, but the Assembly doesn’t suffer; they were doing it for the good of the Empire, learning about dunamancy to help the war effort. So if he refuses to keep spying voluntarily for the Assembly, they’ll just have to find another way to motivate him.

As part of evaluating Essek before recruitment, Assembly operatives would have noted that he’s, well, highly motivated to save his own skin. Ludinus’ goal therefore becomes to make Essek see further espionage as the only way to stay alive. So instead of confronting Essek then and there, Ludinus shrugs and goes, “Okay. Sure.” Then he activates the Volstruckers, maybe leaks a little info to the Dynasty about a traitor in their midst, and sets up Essek to stew in fear, feeling isolated and attacked from both sides - targeted by the Assembly for his defiance, under suspicion from the Dynasty, unable to ask for help because of his crimes. Ludinus sits back and waits for Essek to re-establish contact on his own. Of course Ludinus didn’t know that the M9 had confronted Essek and gotten him to confess, making a return to spying impossible even if he tried.

While Essek’s motives revolve around ego, frustration, and rebellion, his situation is more like those of people who end up defecting because they’re unable to pursue their careers or live as they want to back home. He has virtually no social/family ties to leave behind, no loyalty to Dynasty authority, and no religious fervor to defend the Luxon, while the Assembly promises him the company of like minds and free rein in his experiments. Assuming no intervention by the M9 I think Essek would have ended up defecting to the Cerberus Assembly. If he did it early enough in the story he might have even joined the Volstruckers to complete the narrative foil transformation.

If the crew had confronted him at the treaty but not offered mercy I think he would have defected purely out of fear, thinking the Assembly were the only people who could protect him from both the Dynasty and the M9. He was already on edge watching the guy he'd set up to take the fall getting walked away in chains and with the Assembly's Wind of Aeons ship right there it would be the ideal time to make the move. Assuming the treaty confrontation went as it did (the crew makes him confess but lets him live) but the M9 hadn’t shown up in Eiselcross, Essek would likely have fled the outpost and gone into hiding in a bid to outrun his crimes (and probably gotten caught two weeks later given how awful he was at being “Dezrain Thane.”)

Essek is far from the first recruited asset to regret what they did even as they kept doing it. Those who can sell out their nation and not feel even a pang of guilt are thankfully thin on the ground. Most start off doing what seems to be a favor for a friend - or accepting a favor from a friend who wants to help with their “financial difficulties” - and end up so deep they can’t see any way forward other than to keep handing over secrets. He’s one more in a long line of those who compromised information out of frustration, especially through the appeal to shared professional interests (that’s how industrial assets tend to be recruited.)

But he’s also in a much better place to make up for it than most assets. Since he primarily compromised property, not secrets, returning said property can (somewhat, mostly) repair the damage done, which goes a long way towards buying leniency from the powers that be. And now I’m realizing that this post actually needs one final part, which is: how do you try someone for espionage, and should you charge them with it in the first place?

[1] While spy dramas love sexy blackmail, and handlers will happily collect it to leverage against a balky asset, it works far less often in reality as a main reason for espionage. Social penalties for extramarital affairs pale before actual legal penalties like the death sentence for treason. On the other hand, those with foreign relatives are sometimes coerced by threats against those relatives.

[2] Lonetree’s case for leniency got a boost in 1994 when Aldrich Ames was finally caught and some serious breaches of embassy security that had been attributed to Lonetree were found to be Ames’ work instead. In 1996 Lonetree was released after having served 9 years total.

[3] Although I did just think of a really messed-up Cerberus Assembly plan: consecute a handful of completely loyal Volstruckers, kill them, and send the beacons back so said agents will be reborn in the Dynasty and work to undermine it from within. How fucked up would that be?? Campaign 3 plot hook anyone?

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

#Critical Role #Essek Thelyss #Critical Role spoilers #not really but just to be safe #CR meta #I guess #is that a thing people tag things with?#anyway let's talk about espionage!#I can't stop thinking about Volstrucker!Essek #jesus can you imagine that confrontation #Caleb staring him down? flanked by Astrid and Eadwulf?#then again I think Essek hates Trent in every timeline so #but still seriously #the narrative foils!#the foilssssssss #it's been a long pandemic

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x MINDHUNTER AU

Spencer Reid x Margaret Carr (OC)

Part 1: Ed Kemper.

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: graphic details of a real rape and murder case, like every trigger in the book, applies to this fic so read with caution (if you watch either show you're used to it, however), it's all real and did actually happen and I don't support any of it. strangers to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr's daughter, her bio father is Jason Gideon

word count: 3.9K

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun teaching.

He started with guest speaking, moving to special seminars a few times a year. But he wanted something more, settling for a 7-week criminal justice elective of his choosing.

Intro to Criminal Minds: why they did it. Giving Spencer an excuse to share the most intimate facts about serial offenders in a setting where no one could tell him to shut up.

14 students total signed up for the two-hour Seminar, taking place every Thursday at 11 am from September until Halloween. Over the 7 weeks, he would explain the fascinating insights of the most successful killers in the United States. Only asking that his students write about a prolific crime they find interesting by the end of term, for their full grade.

All he wanted was to read about obscure killers from around the world, from the perspective of aspiring profilers.

The first Thursday, he came prepared with his coffee a half hour before the class. He wanted to write the main points on the whiteboard in advance, nice and neatly.

To his surprise, a student was already there waiting for him. "Oh, hello,” he smiled softly.

She was sitting with a book in her hands, she pushed her glasses up her nose to look at him as he walked in. She was older than his typical student, around 35. Probably finishing up a degree or adding something to what she already had.

"Hi," she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m early, I was visiting my mom at Quantico earlier.” She explained. "I'm not a teacher's pet or anything. Promise, I’m not even a student.”

It made him laugh slightly, correcting him like she read his mind. "It's okay, I'm Doctor Reid," he introduced himself softly.

“Margaret Carr, Peggy is also fine.”

"Pleasure to meet you," he said quickly before focusing his attention on the whiteboard.

He could feel her eyes on him the whole time he wrote, not wanting to turn around and catch her. "That's so interesting," he heard her mumble under her breath.

"Hmm?" He turned around.

"It's just that, everyday occurrences that never phase the regular person somehow cause psychopaths to kill," she read the board back to him.

"I was reading a study a while back about how psycho killers medulla oblongata is approximately 19% smaller than the average human’s. Based on the way they're nurtured as children affects if they grow up to kill. The ones that don't often end up in law enforcement and other positions of power where their psychopathic tendencies can come to play."

He was taken aback for a moment. He had never experienced a student who was like him before. Someone who just pulled facts into conversations like it was nothing.

"I read that as well," he smiled. "It is fascinating. The smallest amount of bullying and abuse from a mother or disappearance of a father figure can set them off."

"Or, on the other hand, there are people like Ted Bundy," she added. "He was well-loved and taken care of, but it went to his head. His god complex and affinity for lying led him to be incredibly charismatic and enabled his killing."

"You're very educated on this already; are you just interested in hearing me speak today?" He asked, not wanting her to leave, finding it interesting that she was there.

"Oh," she blushed. "I was going to talk to you more about it after the seminar actually."

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” he felt a little giddy at the prospect.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Seriously though, I'm a big fan of your teaching style, I saw a few of your classes when my dad was teaching at the academy in 2005. It's a lot easier to remember facts if the lecturer genuinely loves what they're talking about."

"You're going to like this Seminar then. It’s basically just a way for me to get paid while unloading all the random facts I have,” he warned her with a smile.

"I know." She smiled back at him.

The rest of his students filed in slowly. By 11 am, 14 faces were staring back at him.

"Hello," he waved awkwardly. "I'm dr. Spencer Reid. For the last 12 years, I've worked with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Catching serial offenders across the country."

He took a deep breath, letting the nerves find their way out of him. "I've been asked time and time again who my favourite serial killer is, which is a peculiar way to phrase the question. It feels morally wrong to have a favourite in the way people do with baseball players.

"I am, however, fascinated with several serial offenders' reasoning and explanation for why they did what they did. Every single killer is different, but it all comes back to 1 thing. Do you know what that is?"

They all shook their heads. “What is your relationship with your parents like?" He asked.

Everyone in the room reacted; some students sighed, some rolled their eyes as they recalled their parents and childhoods to memory.

"When a person decides to kill, it's often never in the moment. It's in childhood. The majority of serial offender's stories start the same; their mother didn't love them, their father left. Someone at home abused them or put them down repeatedly."

"Thus, causing a hatred so primal to bubble. No matter how hard they try and fight it, the bubble always bursts. They go from fantasizing to killing in retaliation for their abuse, taking the anger out in stages."

He referred to the board. "Every killer has a stressor and a trigger—something that causes the urge to bubble and the event that causes the bubble to rupture.”

"Edmund Kemper is a fascinating example of this. He grew up with a family for the first few years of his life before his father fully abandoned them. His mother handled the situation by turning her anger onto her son; it was his fault his father left, he looked just like him, Ed was just another useless man who would never amount to anything," he emphasized the words. Hoping the class sees the effects words have on children.

"He started by cutting up dolls, stealing his sister's barbies and cutting their heads off. In his mind, he was getting out his anger and hatred for how his mother saw him. She hated men, causing him to mature with a warped idea of what women are truly like."

"His attraction to killing worsened his mother's hatred; she could tell something was wrong with him, that he didn't react to everyday situations the way he should. By the time he was ten, she was locking him in the basement for days on end, telling him he was a monster and her biggest regret."

"The change in her rage amplified his own. He hated hearing her speak. He hated the way she walked around, thinking she was better than him. That just because she was a mother and a working woman, she deserved respect and submissive’s. All he could see was a woman with a big head who needed to be humbled. This is the moment when the psychotic side of his brain blended his hatred of his mother with how good it felt to kill."

"Is that why he, you know?" Peggy cut in, running her finger along her neck as she pretended to cut her head off.

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding. "His signature, as it's called, was decapitation. But more specifically necrophiling the severed head of his victims."

The whole class let out a disgusted noise, Peggy and Spencer making eye contact while they shrugged, it wasn't news to them.

"At age ten, he moved from barbies to cats and dogs, never leaving them around for his mother to see. While he hated her, he was also absolutely terrified of her. Breading a special type of killer. When you think of school shooters or preferential predators, what do they have in common?" He asked.

He pointed at a student in the back. "They have a specific type of victim they’re after?"

"Exactly. Most serial offenders want to go after the cause of their pain or attraction. However, Ed wasn't able to kill the source of his rage for a long time. His mother mentally abused him so intensely that he believed she was in control of him and that her opinion of him mattered. He saw her as his God, he loved her, but he also knew that he disappointed her.

"He ran away soon after to find his father. Travelling to California, only to be told he was unwanted there as well. It wasn't just his mother that his father was escaping; it was the fundamental aspect of family that he didn't want. Ed defiantly didn't want to go back to his mother after that, so he moved in with his paternal grandparents."

He kept catching the looks on Peggy's face. She knew the story already, waiting patiently to hear the words he chose to make the horrific acts seem a little more conversational.

"His grandmother was exactly like his mother. If I had to guess, his father most likely had a distaste for his own mother and thus divorced Ed's mom. Only he never grew up to be a killer, just an absent father—his absence doing to Ed what never happened to him."

"Ed killed his grandparents when he was 15. Telling the police and his therapists that they had beaten him constantly, they refused to feed him and called him names. He said he snapped from the trauma; it was self-defence."

Peggy laughed to herself, making him smile softly. "Sending him to a mental hospital instead of a juvenile facility was the worst thing they could've done for him," Spencer added.

"Why?" A student asked.

"Ed is a psychopath." He reminded them. "He doesn't feel empathy the way we do. You can admit that you feel bad for him, yes? If you understand why he killed people, it doesn't make you sick, like him, it makes you human. You see a hurt person hurting others; Ed Kemper sees himself as a new sort of God, choosing who dies, how and when."

"He was brilliant, having the exact IQ as I do," just a humblebrag, "the staff trusted him. He looked like an innocent boy, smart enough to take matters into his own hands for the betterment of his life. They gave him computer privileges, they let him work the front desk and file patient information. Giving him all the resources to learn about who he was inside and how to get away with it perfectly."

"Damn," another kid added. "When did he get out?"

"At 21.” He answered the student quickly. “Ed was interviewed by my mentor Jason Gideon, in the 70s. Where he explained that being locked up during his sexual prime, as well as the access to information, is what truly set him off more than his mother.

"He moved back in with her and his sister when he came out of the institution, immediately returning to the constant ridicule. He went from being told all the time that he was a smart and charming young man, capable of rehabilitation to a useless, no-good son, who would have been better off collecting in a condom or running down her leg."

The whole class laughed, shocked at his repetition of Ed's mother's words.

"He got his licence when he was released. And remember, this was prime time for hitchhiking in California; everyone and their mother walked the roads with a thumb in the air. It was the birth of free love and recreational marijuana usage. It was also the best hunting ground for a learning serial killer."

"He was able to pick women up, but like I said, missing his sexual prime while in an institution made him almost impotent. He didn't know how to speak to women; he had to create a fantasy in his mind every time, one that involved killing, before he could look at a woman."

"How did he get them in his car then?" A voice asked from the back.

"He was 6'9, 300lbs; he looked like a big teddy bear. And his mother was the local college administrative assistant, so the whole town knew him anyway. If Ed offered to give them a ride, it wouldn't be that bad, right?" Peggy turned around to face the class as she explained for Spencer, who just shook his head.

"He only wanted to rape the victims, originally," Spencer added. "But he couldn't. There was no release of the tension. The bubble that had been growing inside him was at its breaking point; he needed to just do it. Get it over with and move on."

"He killed 6 women in succession after that. Gaining the name "The Co-Ed Killer," well before anyone even suspected Ed Kemper," Spencer took a sip of coffee, feeling his throat start to dry as they reached the insane part.

"He was overly friendly with the cops; he wanted to get his record expunged and join the force.” Spencer finally continued. “Being told, "don't worry about your record, worry about your weight.""

"Most killers enjoy wearing a uniform for the power and talking to the police about their cases, in the hopes of gauging how smart they really are—taking pride in the fact that they are getting away with it for so long."

"He watched all the cop shows, and he read all the books. He knew that in order to get away with it, he had to do it where no one could trace it back to him. He knew he had to keep his cool and avoid looking obsessed with the case, but just curious enough to gain insight into how they thought he was doing it. It went on for years, and they had absolutely zero leads, finding headless bodies every few months before they finally received a call." He left them hanging, walking over to his sheet of paper and pretending to read it while they anticipated the catch.

"Ed always knew that he wanted to kill his mother. He just never knew when,” Spencer teased the story along. Noticing as the students fidgeted in their seats as they wondered what happened next.

“In his interview with Gideon, Ed said that he knew she would die 7 days before he killed her. He walked into her room that night to find her reading, with the audacity to ask if he wanted to come in and chat all night. Teasing him for the way he rambled to her. It was the last time she ever did that."

"It's hard to imagine his signature with the fact his second last victim was his mother," Peggy added, cringing at the thought.

"Wait," another student interjected. "Who was his last kill then if he only really wanted to kill her?"

"Remember how I said he lacked empathy?" Spencer asked. "He loved his mother in the same way a prisoner can end up loving their captor."

Peggy nods at the comparison, looking like she's never thought of it that way before, then smiling at him.

"You grow a bond through the trauma and when the only thing you've ever known is violence and hate, you don't know what to do when that's gone, it's hard to cope."

"He said he killed his mother so that she never had to know what he did. She'd never have to sit at his court hearings or be able to tell the media that she always knew he was a killer."

"His last kill was his mother's best friend," He finally answered the question.

"He didn't want his mother to be even more disappointed in him, but he also didn't want his mother's best friend to find her like that and be upset. So the obvious answer to him was to kill her too."

"What the fuck?" He heard a couple of kids say under their breath.

"Yeah," he agreed with an almost chuckle. "This is what I mean by their answers are fascinating. It makes so much sense to them; clearly, if I kill my mother, her friend will be upset, so the best answer would be to put her out of her misery as well. He sees them as objects, like a matching set. One would lose value without the other."

Everyone was silent then. The students took in all the information they had just received, staring up at him with a look of disgust mixed with wonder.

"Any questions?"

Peggy raised her hand for a change; he pointed towards her in approval. "You missed the part where he specifically took the heads from the three women before his mother and brought them back home with him. He buried them in the yard outside her bedroom window, making sure they were always looking up to her."

Spencer was amazed that she knew the details. "Yes, I guess I did."

"I always found that part particularly interesting in this case," Peggy added. "Her opinion mattered so much to him. He knew how much she loved her co-ed's and how they looked up to her so much. They'd be exactly like her. He felt trapped in a town of women who were exactly like his nightmare, and his response was to make them physically look up to her for the rest of her life."

"Exactly." Spencer smiled. "understanding how he sees the situation and how the events played out in his mind is the key in figuring out who he is."

"If you were on the case in '72 when the first victims were discovered, how would you have handled it, Dr. Reid?" A male student in the back asked in the silence between answers, taking his shot before Peggy and Spencer went any further in their discussion.

��That's a hard thing to answer, connecting evidence back then was a lot harder than it is today, if it wasn’t for men like Ed there wouldn’t really be this many answers,” Spencer said honestly.

Another student put her hand up, “what’s the worst thing he did in your opinion?”

That racked his brain, there was a handful of horrific things he did that were particularly horrific, “probably his mother's entire murder.”

“What did he do?”

Before Spencer could answer he saw Peggy open her mouth and start explaining. “He not only cut off her head and fucked her neck, but he also took her vocal cords out and shoved them down the garbage disposal. And before he called the cops, he cleaned everything up and made her look presentable because he said his mother wouldn’t want guests to see the mess.”

The class all cringed, sinking into their seats with disgust. But that didn’t stop Peggy from explaining it all further.

“He used to go to a bar all the cops went to and he would talk about his case. They would always one-up themselves and say they were close which gave him this false idea that they were on his tail and they’d find his mother soon. But when they didn’t, he called it in from a payphone and said he’d come over and explain it all. And boy did he ever, the cops said he wouldn’t shut up. And then when they put him in the cop car finally, a woman walked past him and he threw up.”

Spencer watched her with awe, the way she could call information to memory like that was beautiful. He listened to her like he’s never heard a fact before, she was so intriguing.

“Thank you for the detail,” he teased her lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up that the really gross parts get swept aside.”

The class smiled at him, he had gained their trust and attention within only 1 hour of class.

“I know you said you don’t have a favourite,” another student asked from the back. “I agree it’s weird, but who is the one you gravitate towards the most?”

“I’ve met hundreds of serial killers, I’ve read about thousands,” he explained. “I think Ed Kemper is the one I gravitate the most around because he was so willing and open to explaining why he is the way he is. Going as far as to say that the only way they could keep women safe is to give him a lobotomy. He didn’t believe there was any correcting to be done, only removal of the evil within him.”

He heard slight mumbles as everyone took in what he said. “Does anyone here have a killer or a case that interested them in learning more, or just introduced you to the chase of justice?”

Peggy put her hand up, “I personally think BTK is the scariest, most tactical, and just downright evil man to ever exist. He scares me to no end but he’s so interesting to learn about.”

“Ahh,” Spencer agreed. “Too bad you won't be here for week 3. But with that I think I’ll end the class, next week we’ll be discussing the difference between Ted Bundy and Richard Speck.” He nodded lightly, watching the majority of them close their books and had on out.

“I really enjoyed the class,” she said softly. Holding her purse in one hand, a collection of files in the other.

Spencer turned to look at her then, smiling right back. “It was a pleasure to teach alongside you.”

“What do you mean?” She teased, “it’s not like my mom and dad were the ones who did all the interviews."

“Carr,” he repeats her last name. The gears turning in his mind as he brings all the information forth.

“Your mother is Wendy Carr, she was recruited after the BTK case with Bill Tench, she’s who was behind that study you mentioned.”

“I know,” she smiled.

“Who’s your father?”

“Guess,” she looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“You’re kidding? Gideon never said he had a daughter let alone a,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.

She smiled at the implication of his words, “but he’s told me all about you Dr. Reid, that’s why I'm here.”

“You need help with a case and I’m the only agent in Virginia currently,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly. Knowing it was too good to be true that she would have any interest in him in the slightest.

“No actually, I have a case I’ve been working on privately and I need some help. I asked my dad but he said you’d be able to help me the best. I agree,” she corrected him softly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a big fan of yours. When I would sit in and watch his lectures, before he knew I was his kid, you would always step in at the best parts, adding the smallest details to the story that the average person would forget. It’s magnificent.”

He laughed slightly, tugging at his collar as she complimented him. “Thank you, you’re quite magnificent as well,” he replied with a blush and a smile

She didn’t look like Gideon, probably because she smiled so much. Like sunshine on legs, she beamed, all but blinding him with her smile as she stared at him, “do you want to get lunch and go over this case with me?”

“I’d love to.”

taglist: (message me if you want to be added or removed)

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #intro to cm #mindhunter #wendy carr #peggy carr

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writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

poker night | stiles stilinski

word count; 9320

summary; you and stiles have grown close since leaving for college, and the pack coming to visit is the little push you need to finally cross that bridge.

notes; this is teh second fic for my birthday week/7,000 follower celebration!

warnings; smut, drug use, underage drinking.

Excitement and pure joy were coursing through your veins as you watched out of the open curtains down to the street below, the sun just beginning to set as the late evening moved into early night, and you heard Stiles chuckle from across the room where he was tipping various chips into different bowls to lay out beside the poker table he’d rented that sat in the middle of the room.

“Excited, much?”

“Yes!”

You turned to look at him, giving him a pointed stare as you dropped your hand from holding open the curtains to instead place both of your hands on your hips, giving him a wide smile as you rocked on the balls of your feet, and he returned the wide grin, crumpling up the foil packets and dropping them all into the bin as he deemed the room ready. He was lucky, he had a rather large dorm, and all to himself, far bigger than yours was but you were still convinced that the pre-FBI program gave each of their candidates far better university living than the rest of you got. There was plenty of space for everyone to cram in, some of them choosing hotels in the area and some of them choosing to stay with Stiles, it had been a squeeze to get everyone in, but it was worth it.

You hadn't seen your pack since the day you’d left Beacon Hills.

It was hard to be away from them all for so long, after everything you had all been through, and yet you knew you had it easier than most. Stiles had only been a fifteen-minute drive from your accommodation, and so the two of you had grown infinitely closer than you had ever been, relying on one another heavily to make the transition easier. Lydia had called you every day for the first month and a half, and you’d all had weekly facetime sessions, but it just hadn't been the same.

With the first year coming to a close and everyone being far too broke to be able to afford to actually go anywhere, you’d settled on a few days up at college together for a small but parent-free vacation before the journey home.

It was the perfect opportunity for you all to get unnecessarily drunk, excessively high, and eat a lot of junk food, all while not having to worry about any oncoming attack that might strike, as the year-marker of safety was quickly approaching. Naturally, Stiles had decided to set a theme, and where was the place that drinking and gambling was the norm? Vegas. So of course, Stiles had gone all out with renting a poker table and set, and hanging vaguely Vegas-themed decorations around the place. He was even wearing a t-shirt with a tux pattern printed on the front, and had managed to convince you into wearing your party shirt with the flapper-style tassels on to match.

“C’mon, Stiles, it’s been almost a year since we’ve seen anyone from the pack, why aren’t you bouncing off of the roof with excitement?”

“I’ve seen one person from the pack all year.” He prompted, shooting you a playful wink and laughing as you rolled your eyes at him, before throwing away all the wrappers and holding his arms out for you in an invitation for a hug.

Accepting his offer, you moved away from the window and let him wrap his arms around your waist, barely a sliver of space between your bodies as you looked up at him and sighed. “I’m nervous. It’s been so long since we’ve seen them all, and I love them all so much, but nothing bad has happened since we’ve all been separated but what if just when we all get together again, something bad happens, and we don’t even get to enjoy it an-”

He shushed you gently, using one hand to weave through your hair and tuck it away behind your ear, his eyes fixed on you carefully as the playlist you and Stiles had spent a whole week building was playing in the background, waiting for everyone to arrive to appreciate it. “Bad things don’t happen when we’re all together, bad things happened because we were in Beacon Hills. We aren’t in Beacon Hills anymore, and we aren’t scared kids anymore, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You wanna’ cheer up? Nobody can be sad in faux-Vegas!” He cheered, waving his arm around the room, and you chuckled, catching his face brighten even further as he watched the worry slip away from your features, his lips brushing your forehead before he was tucking you under his chin, and holding you tightly.

You were only still for a second, the two of you swaying slowly before you heard the tell-tale signs of a car pulling up outside, the engine dying and doors slamming, and an excited gasp left your lips. “I bet that’s them!”

His fingers laced with yours and he was moving before you were, the two of you speeding over to the window to peer out, catching sight of Derek’s black car, the man himself leaning against it and waiting as Mason and Liam pulled their bags out of the trunk, Scott sitting in the passenger seat with the door open and his bag in his lap. Both yours and Stiles’ phone were chiming a second after he put his own away, notification in your group chat as he informed you both that they’d arrived, unaware of you watching on from the window with anticipation.

The group was on the move, the car locked and disappearing from sight as they entered the building's lobby area, and Lydia had offered her own ETA as the others all chipped in theirs, and just like that, your fears were gone as you swung open the front door and peered out into the corridor while you waited.

Within forty minutes of the Beacon Hills group arriving, everybody was here, and drinks had been cracked open, snacks dug into, and you were all lounging around and catching up on missed gossip and news, sharing photos and stories that you had wanted to tell in person and saved just for this moment.

Pizza boxes were piled high within two hours, and smoke was filling the air, giggles and laughs shared all around as the group simply rejoiced in being back together once again. Liam and Mason had told you all about the latest shit that Coach had been dishing out, and all the pranks that they had committed, as well as Mason, blushing when Lydia and Kira had pressed him about Corey. Scott and Derek had given a brief update about everything that had happened in Beacon Hills, which was surprisingly little with all things considered, and Lydia had tried to inform you all about the advanced placement work she had been doing in her classes, but had lost you all at some point as it became far too complex for you all to understand, and so instead had switched to telling you about the cute guy she had met at the coffee shop three months ago.

Kira and Malis had been travelling, the pair had recently been all over Europe exploring, and had even visited Isaac in France and Jackson in London, before they’d finally returned home to see everyone. They dished out all the little souvenirs that they had bought, and shared them out with you all before showing you pictures and telling you the stories behind each trip. You had shared your own stories, all the funny ones you had of Stiles falling over or spilling something in public, and he embarrassed you just as much, teasing you until your cheeks were red and he was cuddling you into his side and ruffling your hair as everyone laughed.

It was like nothing had ever changed, and you loved it.

The night had drifted on with natural progress until the music had been turned down to a lower level with the late hours, and the hazy atmosphere had everyone moving sluggishly and lazily as empty bottles littered the floor and the stubs of many dead blunts sat in the ashtray on the edge of the poker table, even the wolves having a little wolfbane laced treats to help them hit the mood just as much as all of the non-wolves had.

You were currently lounging across both Liam and Malia on the couch, lay out over them as you continually brushed off your midriff, crumbs dropping down onto your top each time Liam took a bite of the chip dish that was positioned between him and Mason, the two absolutely gone as they laughed and giggled among themselves about everything and anything.

Alongside their voices, and the conversation between yourself, Malia and the boys, was the rustle of cards and clinking of poker-chips, and you were itching for more physical affection than you were getting now, your inhibitions lowered and your need for physical attention through the roof from the substances racing through your bloodstream. Your sights honed in on Stiles, hair messy from playing with it and back facing you, your chair long abandoned from where you’d given up on cards when they’d started the real gambling, and you’d remembered just how crap you were at the game.

Getting up onto wobbly legs, you made your way across the room, resting your hands on Stiles’ shoulder as you stood behind him, smoothing them down his chest and he placed his beer down, licking the excess of the bitter liquid from his lips and placing the hand on top of one of yours, squeezing lightly as he turned to look at you.

“Hi, cutie. What d’you need?”

“Nothin’.” You sighed, slumping down further and resting your chin on the top of his head, used to the sweet little nicknames he fixed you with, and you relaxed against him as he leaned back a little further in the chair and pushed himself a few inches out front he table, seeming to predict your next words before you had even spoken them; “Was just feeling like I wanted some attention.”

“Hm, well c’mere, you can play cards, I’ve seen your poker face in the midst of some much more intense situations than this, I think you can handle it.”

You flicked him in the ear for his joke about all your supernatural struggles, but he held your hand and guided you around him to stand by his side, making space for you to sink down atop him and get comfy.

Slumping down across the boy’s lap with a deep sigh, your legs were slung across his at an angle, and his arms were quick to wind around your waist, one hand tucking itself under your shirt to seat on the heated skin of your waist, and the other held his cards limply in his hand, but his focus was no longer on them. You’d long since given up on the game, barely able to hold a focus as your mind spun from the hazy smoke in the air, and the taste of bitter-sweet alcohol still lingering in your mouth.

Slightly sticky lips brushed your shoulder as he peppered the bare skin with sweet kisses, and you turned your head to give the boy a dopey smile, watching as his own face creased in a beaming grin in response. His eyes were blown wide, slightly widened and his hair messy from constant playing with it, the arm of yours that wasn’t sitting around his neck for support was lifting up so that you could weave a hand into the chocolate locks, and he sighed out softly at the contact, letting you twist in his arms to face him even more.

“Like it when you play with my hair.”

“Mhm, I know.”

Your words were mumbled in response and he chuckled under his breath as his eyes fluttered shut, tipping his head into your hand, before a voice coughed loudly and the two of your jumped, eyes snapping open and focus moving back to the poker table before you both, other members of the pack gathered around and smirking at you both knowingly, but you let out a deep sigh and only relaxed into the boy under you even further.

“Stop looking at us like that.”

“Like what, exactly?” Lydia all but purred out her words, and you shot her a pointed look, as the others around the table all tried to muffle their laughs of agreement. Derek was looking at his cards and trying to bite away his smile by nibbling on the inside of his cheek, Scott and Kira were pretending to discuss their hand at cards, but were shooting the pair of you small looks throughout their whispered conversation, and Lydia was staring at you with a challenging smirk. You could even feel the members of the others scattered around you watching on, the pack spread out around the smoke room, the funky smell hanging off of everyone and everything.

“You know what like. You’re looking at us like you know something we don’t, like it’s a joke only we aren’t a part of.”

You felt a nose push at the underside of your jaw and tipped your head up to allow the boy more space to nose at the space under your jaw and by your ear, letting him just gain his own affections to his heart’s content, and this only spurred on Lydia’s piercing stare at the two of you. “You aren’t a part of a joke, and in fact, it’s incredibly unfunny. However, I do know something you don’t. We all do.”

“Care to share?”

It was the first night in almost a year that the pack had all been together. Lydia had finished her exams early, Scott had gotten ahead on his training with Deaton to create time, and Liam and Mason had ditched their last week. Derek had driven them all up here, and Lydia had come down from her college to see you all. Kira had come with Malia on the plane after they had recently finished their travels of Europe, and you had come across from your own dorms.

It was barely a travel, you and Stiles went to colleges that were only ten miles apart, and so you were hanging out regularly during the week, you were the only two that had seen each other in person since leaving for college and not just via facetime, and in this time, the two of you seemed to have grown even closer than you had ever been despite all the supernatural drama you had been through.

“C’mon, you two have gotten so close since we all left for college.”

“So?” you and Stiles spoke at once, looking to Scott for his comment, before you were giggling and sharing glances in your utterly smoked out state, finding entertainment in your joint statement.

“Nothing.. ‘sparked’ in that time?”

You took a deep sigh, your eyes wandering around the room, flicking from Lydia to Malia, before back to the redhead who was watching you intensely. “Feels a bit weird to talk about this in front of two of his exes.”

“So, there is something to talk about!” Lydia shouted the words like she had suddenly realised the key to life, looking far more excited than someone who just discovered their best friends having feelings for their ex should look. “God, finally, I’ve only been staying with you for three days and the sexual tension is already too much for me to handle.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles questioned, breath fanning over your face from where he was all but mouthing at your jaw, dry kisses pressed there as he held you to his chest tightly, having put his cards down on the table at some point so hold you with both hands.

“When I left, you two were friends who would hug, now you’re this pair who are all over each other without even realising it! I mean, the two of you are closer right now than Scott and Kira have ever been!” The couple that was involved against their will let out various noises of complaints, being waved off by the redhead and they comforted one another with small kisses, both you and Stiles shrugging languidly. “Listen, Malia and Stiles ended ages ago, and Stiles and I were barely a couple, we didn’t even sleep together, so don’t feel weird.”

“Way to boost my ego, Lydia.” The brunette under you sighed, but you only squeezed yourself around him tighter, feeling him reciprocate the emotions and push his hand even further up over your ribs.

“Even I can smell the arousal and longing rolling off of the two of you in waves. Just admit it to each other already.” Derek muttered, shifting his cards before pushing some of his counters into the middle, and despite all the alcohol and weed in your system, your eyes went wide as you shifted to look at the boy underneath you, his lips parted a little as he gave you a nervous smile.

“You’re longing? For me?”

He grinned widely, his head tipping to the side, cheeks flushed with warm heat, before he licked over his lips and nodded slowly. “Yeah, since like the first month when you stayed that whole weekend to binge marvel movies with me so I didn’t feel alone and you did that dance thing while you were making pancakes on Saturday.” He paused, thinking over his words, before he was leaning in a little and bumping his nose with yours as your hand came out of his hair to sit on his cheek delicately. “You’re aroused? By me?”

Your breath hitched, and he smirked very lightly at your response, his lips brushing yours when you nodded. “Yeah, ever since the day you came over right after going to the gym and you were all sweaty and asked if I minded if you used my shower and then you walked around with your shirt off before dinner. I definitely didn’t mind.”

He laughed lightly at your statement, his eyes glazing over a little as he remembered the day. “Are you longing, too?”

“Mhm. Are you also aroused?” Your question hung heavily in the air and he let out a soft sound under his breath as you asked him.

“Of course.”

“Cool.” You both spoke the single syllable word at the same time, your eyes closing as your fingers dug into his jaw a little, your breathing as light and shallow as everyone else in the room seemed to fade away. It was simply the two of you, sharing breath and his tongue brushing your lips when it peeked out of his mouth to wet his own, and you whimpered under your breath so quietly only he would hear it, to which his hands tightened on your flesh as he picked up on the sound.

“You want to go back to your place?”

“Oh, definitely.” You nodded rapidly, and he beamed shifting in your lap, taking a swig of his drink as he downed the rest of the glass, and slipped his hand into your back pocket as the rest of the group stared at the two of you with wide eyes, shock evident on their faces about how easy that conversation had really been, but you didn’t care, because Stiles was running the pads of his fingers very subtly over your ass and squeezing through your pocket, even as he stared down everyone else in the room, and your skin was beginning to feel hot from something entirely other than the atmosphere in his dorm that you had all created. “We need a cab.”

“We can call one and makeout in the doorway while we wait, go get your bag.” He pulled his touch away from you, placing a playful slap on your ass and grinning at the way you squeaked before scurrying away to gather your belongings, and he was grabbing his wallet, throwing down a handful of notes on the table, quickly booking an Uber with the app on his phone.

When your hand slipped into his again the shocked looks had morphed into smirks, the only three teams still sitting around the table were reshuffling cards and setting themselves up to play, Stiles telling them all not to wait up for him to come home, before he was pulling you from the room and towards the door. “You booked a cab?”

“Yes.”

“And we’re going to make out in the doorway until it gets here?”

“Fuck, yes.” He tipped his head to look at you, slamming the front food shut and guiding you towards the stairs you were so familiar with, as the two of you set off on your quick and stumbling journey toward the main entrance to the building.

“Will you grab at my ass again like you were before?”

“Do you want me to?” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, however, before his fingers were leaving yours and moving over your lower back to grab at your ass roughly, feeling your shake as he curled you into his side, the two of you inching down the lower staircase. “Like that?”

“Yeah?”

“Honestly, I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“I’m going to remember that for later.” You punctuated your words with a nibble on his lower lip, glancing up into his swirling whiskey eyes through your lashes, and he groaned under his breath, letting himself nod slowly as he used his grip on your ass to pull your body flush up against his. His mouth descended onto your own once again, catching your lips in a fiery kiss, instantly parting as the lust took over your both, tripping and stumbling down the final few steps as he pressed you into the wall beside the door, uncaring for who may see the pair of you as his tongue tangled with your own, visible between your parted mouths whenever your heads twisted to the side for deeper access.

It was sloppy and wet, and a clash of moans and whimpers as the two of you teased done another endlessly with a mixture of slow and ongoing kisses that alternated with needy and rushed ones, teeth clashing and lips dragging.

Hands roamed one another’s bodies, your palms tracing over the broad and hardened planes of his chest, the workouts he had been on for the pre-FBI fitness programs had done things to his body that lacrosse never did, and you were sure the day you’d seen Stiles do a pull-up was the day you realised rolling over guys may actually be a thing. The muscles twitched and tensed under your fingertips, and his hands were rubbing along you back all the way to your upper thighs, exploring your body as he pinched and squeezed in places that made your body jerk and twitch into him.

His lips were working along your neck as your heart raced, your eyes closed and back arching up, chests pressed flush together, and the what around the two of you almost felt like it was too much. The fingers that were sitting low on your waist slipped even further, grazing along you covered pussy through you jeans, ad he pushed down teasingly on the spot he knew your clit would be, biting down on the joint between your shoulder and your neck when he heard you moan his name out breathlessly at the simple action.

He dragged his tongue over the spot, moving in to dip back down to kiss you, before the two of you were breaking through your haze at the sound of a horn honking, and the phone in his back pocket was buzzing. He was panting for breath as he pulled back from you, only one hand still touching you as his fingers laced with your own, a stark contrast from every part of him pressed to every part of you only seconds prior.

“Good thing, one minute longer and I probably would’ve had my hands down your pants right here in the doorway.”

He gave you a sultry wink, before he was pulling you along to the car waiting on the edge of the road, ignoring your wide eyes and stuttering words, holding the door open for you and helping you inside like a gentleman, like he hadn't just threatened public nudity and a great orgasm only seconds prior. He was seconds behind you, confirming his identity and booking to the driver, and as the car took up motion on the short journey once again, he turned back to you.

“You okay, baby? You look flushed.” You turned to look at him, sensing the light tone in his voice that was playfully disguising the question underneath as to whether you still wanted this, and you nodded gently, taking his face in your hands and pulling his face down so that you could peck his lips.

“I like it when you call me baby.”

“You do?” He dragged his nose along your cheek, brushing a kiss to your skin, the intimate and sweet touches making you blush hot and red under his touch, his chuckle so soft that only you could hear it.

“Yeah. We could have been doing this for months, y’know.”

“Making out in a taxi and trying not to feel each other up to much before we get back to your place?” He joked, tucking an arm over your shoulder and you settled into his side, your hands playing with his other one as it sat on your thigh and squeezed lightly.

“I was going to say being together, but sex works too.” Your words were whispered out, and he twisted until he was nuzzling affectionately into your hairline.

“You want that? To be together with me?”

“Well, I wasn’t longing for fun.” You scoffed, and he shifted his hands to lace your fingers together, his arm squeezing you tighter to him.

“I can’t say I always knew we were meant to be, or that I spent my whole child and teenhood pining after you, but I really think we would be special together, and I think we could go a long way together.” You rolled your eyes at his affections, but the alcohol and drugs in your body were making you emotional, and you sniffed away your feelings as you pushed your face into his neck, pressing a kiss to his skin in a silent acknowledgement of his statement.

“Together, then.”

“Together.” He confirmed, and the scenery flashing by before you both was quickly coming to an end, Stiles confirming a payment to come out of his bank account, before he was thanking the driver and watching as you clambered from the car to stand before your own building, Stiles stumbling out behind you and pressing himself up to your back as the two of you giggled in your drunkenness.

It was an awkward walk between the two of you, you back pressed to the wall of your elevator as you each tried to hit the right button for your floor, seeming to hit every single one but the right one, and the journey was filled with shared giggling ad little moans as you let him kiss and lick at your neck, marking your skin with red marks that would be dark by the morning. His hands had fished your keys out of your pocket, and he was holding them up before you as the two of you all but raced along the corridor to your room.

The door slammed off of the wall as you made your way in, dropping the keys to the floor and kicking the door shut behind you as he navigated you on the path he knew so well toward your bedroom, the light feeling in the air gone as lust and heat replaced it, your mouths meshing together in urgent kisses that begged for more, wandering hands and tugs of material, your jacket pushed from your shoulder to the floor and your hands tucked underneath his t-shirt as you finally got to feel the abs that you had so often watched sweat run down when he’d taken you to do workouts with him, or showed up at your place straight after the gym or a run.

Pulling his own shirt up and over his head, your hands were immediately drawn to the exposed skin of his chest. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d seen him without a shirt on, but it was the first time you’d been allowed to actually look, to touch, and your fingertips were pressing into the smooth skin, palms flat to his flushed chest, pink and shining with a light layer of sweat from the heat forming between the two of you. “Damn, Sti.”

“What? Still thought I was the skinny kid with the buzzcut from sophomore year?”

“No, you’ve spent enough time wandering around without your shirt on while I’m around for me to know you’re hot, it’s just now I can actually appreciate it.” You flashed your teeth at him in a cheeky grin, and he gave a breathless chuckle in response, the muscles in his stomach tightening as your fingers dragged down over the taut flesh, until your nails were scratching at the trail of dark hairs below his navel, hooking into his dark jeans.

“I wouldn't have minded if you’d appreciated it before.” You tipped your head up, kissing along the underside of his jaw gently, licking at the smooth flesh from where he had shaved earlier in the day, and his breathing shallowed as you did, his fingers tightening on your hips. “Okay, no fair, shirt off, baby. I’ve been wanting to know what your tits looked like since you wore that red bikini to the pool party I took you to.”

You went almost the same shade as the aforementioned garment as he whispered the filthy words into your ear, and he pushed his hands up under your shirt, hands inching the flimsy material up until it was sitting just under your bra, his thumbs smoothing out over your skin and brushing at the wire of your bra. “You sure you want to do this? We don’t have to. I swear, I’d be more than happy to just cuddle with you and watch movies like we always do on Tuesday nights, just s-”

Your lips met his, pressing a deep and longing kiss to his lips, and he moaned into your mouth when the connection was made, your bodies coming up flush against one another as you moved your hands back up to loop around his neck. Your fingers weaved into his hair, one hand behind his head as the other cradled his jaw, and he tipped his head to the side, your noses bumping and brushing as his tongue dipped out to tempt your lips to open up for him. Instead of allowing that, however, you were pulling away, just enough until your lips were barely brushing his, letting him groan out in dissatisfaction.

Pulling your shirt up and over your head and dropping it to the ground, his eyes widened as he took in the sight of your exposed chest, all other than the simple white bra you were wearing underneath, and your jaw dropped as you suddenly remembered the underwear that was clad on your body.

“I wasn’t expecting this when I put my comfy underwear on today, I have way cuter bras than this.”

He smirked, popping the button on your jeans so that they were loose enough for him to tug down softly, until they were tight around your thighs, your jaw hanging open as both of his palms slipped down to squeeze at your ass. “I was assuming you wouldn't be wearing the cute blue thong when you had no idea what would happen tonight. Besides, if you'll let me, I’d much rather have your underwear off and on the floor, with my head between your thighs and my hands on your tits instead.”

“How do you know about my cute blue thong?” You whined, tipping your head back with false-irritation in your voice, and letting him kiss down your neck as your hair fell back behind you.

“You do your laundry with me every week, sometimes I’d see what was going into the machines, and that piece caught my eye, I always hoped I’d get to see it on you, and we have plenty of time for that. Besides, I’m wearing boxers with hotdogs printed on, so don’t worry about it.” His fingers moved one of the straps of your bra away, letting it fall away to sit on the side of your arm, exposing your shoulder to him, and you own hands found the clasp behind your back, undoing it for him and watching as his eyes focused in one your breasts, nipples already hard under the material, and he licked at his lips as he stared down at your chest. “Shit, you have such perfect tits.”

You took one of his wrists in your hands, dragging the limp limb up until his palm was pressing over your skin, a content sigh falling from your lips was beyond your control as his fingers twitched and he took control once again, squeezing at the fleshy mound you had given him access to. His thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple teasingly, rolling the taut bud between the pads, and your back arched up, pressing even further into him.

Dipping down, he took the other between his teeth, pulling lightly before sealing his lips around it, his arm wrapped around your lower back so that he could tip you backwards, your hips pressing into his and the bulge in his jeans becoming obvious as you found yourself flush up against one another.

“I really need to know what else that mouth can do, and what else you’ve got hidden, and then when we’re all fucked out, we can definitely cuddle and watch a movie. First, though, I want you to make sure I scream loud enough that my neighbours know your name.”

“And here I was thinking I’d be doing the dirty talk, huh?” He sighed out against your skin, pulling away from your breast with a ‘pop’, the skin wet and shiny and he moved back up to brush his mouth with yours. “You got it, princess.”

His hands found your hips, pushing you backwards onto the bed, and he was pulling your jeans the rest of the way down your legs, taking your socks and shoes as he went, stripping you down to just the polka dot cotton panties you wore, and your hair fanned out around you on the bed as your chest rose and fell, mind spinning as you tried to gather yourself, the whole motion had happened so quickly. His hands were on your knees, pushing your thighs apart until he could settle on the mattress between them, and lick a long stripe up along your covered core, spit soaking you underwear, but the feeling of his hot breath against you was already making you tremble underneath him.

“Can’t wait to taste you, I bet you’re sweet, hm? That okay? I’ve been dreaming ‘bout getting my head between these thighs, or having you ride my face, cum on my tongue, how’s that sound?”

“Yes! Yes, to all of it, whatever you want!” Your words were promising for him, and he caught your eye as you propped yourself up on you elbows to look at him, his eyes blown with lust and dark as he hooked his fingers into the elastic of the waistband, tugging the material away from your swiftly, and he let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan as your glistening folds were put on display for him, with no barrier between.

“Oh, fuck, you look so good. All spread out for me, dripping wet and blushing. You’re perfect.”

“I’m not perfect, Stiles.”

“You absolutely fucking are, and I’ll prove just how perfect I think you are.” His lips descended onto yours as he leaned over you, one hand holding him up as you shared a sloppy and heated kiss, the clashing of teeth and tangling of tongues, wet sounds audible in the room as the two of you frantically dove into one another's mouths, exploring and becoming familiar with new territory. The other hand snaked down between your body, cautious fingers dragging along your drenched skin as two digits parted your folds, swirling in the built-up wetness and bumping against your clit. “Shit, you’re so wet. All for me, yeah?”

“All for you, Stiles, you really have no idea what you do to me.”

“Mhm, I think I do.” He joked, grinding his hips down into one of your thighs, pressing the erection that was straining into his jeans into your thigh, and you both let out whimpers at the action.

“Then fuck me, Stiles, show me I affect you like you affect me. Fuck me, now.”

“I will, I promise.” He cooed, grinning into your skin, his face buried in your neck as he sunk a single finger into you, all the way down to the knuckle, feeling your velvety walls clench around him immediately, coating his skin in your juices. “I gotta’ open you up first, get you ready for m’ cock, okay? And, I do just really want to fuck you with my tongue.”

With that, he was slipping out of your eyesight and down your body, his arms wrapping under your thighs as he situated himself between your legs, letting out a shaky breath as he lapped at his lips and stared lustfully at your centre. You felt drunk on his touch, everything in your world seeming hazy and blurry as he pressed kisses up along the inside of your thighs, his teeth dragging against the soft skin, and you felt your breath hold in your lungs as he came to the apex of your thighs. That second-long pause felt like it dragged on for hours, before his tongue was finally dragging slowly along your core, a trail from your entrance to your clit, and a loud moan tore from you at the feeling of his mouth on you.

His lips sealed around your clit, sucking harshly, and your back arched up from the bed as he barely did anything, and yet pleasure was already spiking along your entire body. He dragged his tongue, flat and warm, over the bud and made sure that he moved as slowly as possible, teasing you endlessly, despite how much you wanted more. You wanted to remember this moment and make the most of it, but you couldn't think about anything but the pure bliss Stiles was giving to you, the way he was drinking up every drop of arousal you made, the way he was sucking and nibbling at your core in a most delectable way that had a heat curling in your belly and your body somewhere between relaxed and tense.

Once he was satisfied that he had licked up everything you had already given, his mouth closed over you, the tip of his tongue poking and prodding at your entrance and teasing the hole, before dipping his tongue into you, and he groaned out as his mouth was flooded with more waves of your juices. You clenched around the wet muscle eagerly, feeling the way your own body was reacting to him like you never had with anyone else, and your hips rocked up into his face, rolling in repeated motions to meet the thrusts of his tongue in and out of you.

“Fuck, Stiles!”

His chuckle was muffled against your core, the feeling of it vibrating along you body though, and the upturned tip of his cute little nose was once again you downfall, though now instead of being due to making your heart race, it was instead form the way it was nudging against the throbbing bud nestled between your legs, and you felt the nerves in you body zapping and jolting with electricity each time he tilted his head or dove into you even deeper than he already was.

His fingers were digging into your thighs, holding you close to him as you cried out his name, and he was moaning into your centre with each flick of his tongue and drag of his lips against your dripping cunt, slurping sounds that would make a pornstar blush, and you brought up a shaky hand to thread into his hair, tugging on the chocolate locks in warning. You felt the heat overwhelm you, your body tensing and back arching up until it was no longer on the bed and your legs clamping around his head as you came, his name leaving your lips as a sob when he bit down on your clit just enough to spur on your orgasm with a little more power.

Your body was shaking and muscles cramping up, your skin shining with a sheen of sweat and he continued to greedily lap at your hole until you were oversensitive and pushing him away prying your own legs open to release him, and when he popped back into your line of sight, he was wearing own of the cockiest looks you had ever seen on him. His cheeks and chin were shining, and his lips were swollen, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in the strands and he kissed his way back up your body, smearing your sin with your own fluids, and taking his time in making sure he had kissed and licked at every bit of skin, until his mouth was moving across your cheek and back to your lips.

“You tasted so fucking good, you want to try?” His words were deep, and seductive, and his voice was raspier than you had ever heard it, even in the mornings when the two of you had fallen asleep slumped against one another on the couch after marathoning a new TV show. You found yourself nodding before you even really processed the words, and he beamed down at you with a filthy smile, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down and opening your mouth just enough for his tongue to slither out and play with yours when his lips slanted across your own.

It was a taste you weren’t used to, foreign in your mouth and unexpected and yet it was just a little sweet, like he had said. It was mixed with the taste of him, one which you much preferred but at this point every inhibition you had was thrown out of the window because right now you were drowning in the way his lips played with your own, his lips tempting yours into the interaction alongside his. For a few minutes, you just lay there, your fingers weaved into his hair as you made out, lazy and messy and hot in a way you couldn't even begin to explain, but each kiss left you breathless and craving more, and each flittering touch of his hands along your body as he moved them, dragging them over every limb and expanse of skin, had your body setting alight once again.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel fucking incredible.” You smiled up at him dopily, and he laughed down at you, the moment so incredibly intimate that you felt like your heart was swelling up, and his finger tapped the tip of your nose, before brushing over your kiss-bitten and pouted lips, letting you kiss the pad of his finger.

“Yeah? That’s good, I like this. Us. I like us being like this, it sorta’ feels like one of those lazy Sunday mornings. Don’t you think?” Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you pulled up your legs to clamp around his hips, humming thoughtfully as you considered his words.

“I do, but-” you paused in your words, flipping the two of you over, and he let out a sound of sunrise and shock, before he was staring up at you in awe and swallowing thickly as he found himself on his back, watching your tits bounce above him as you leaned down, hair framing your face and lips barely touching his. “-if this was a lazy Sunday morning, you definitely wouldn't be wearing jeans, and I would be able to ride you a lot easier.”

To emphasise your point, your rocked your hips down into him gently, your eyes rolling a little and eyes fluttering shut as the denim he wore grazed against your sensitive core, a wet patch being left over the bulge of his jeans, the two of you watching between your bodies as trails of slick leaked from you, covering the front of his pants each time you rose up and pushed back down into his covered erection. “You are everything wet dreams are made of.”

His words were groaned out, his hands coming down between your bodies, and he rose his legs behind you, bumping you up just high enough that when his hips lifted from the bed with you sat in his lap, he was able to push his jeans and boxers down to his mid-thighs. His cock was pulsing with need, skin hot and flushed and dripping with precum, both of you letting out squeaky and broken sounds of satisfaction when his cock rubbed against your folds.

Grinding down onto him, his legs fell flat, both of you far too needy for a connection to even undress him properly, and you sat up, hands splayed over his chest for leverage and knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips, giving you the leverage you needed to be able to rock your hips into him.

The head of his cock pushed against your neglected bead each time, his cock and thighs shining with your arousal as you pleased yourself, whimpering at each strangled noise he let out as his hands clenched by his sides, chest rising and falling under your palms as your dragged your pussy up and down his cock, feeling him nudge against your hole each time, but you were enjoying the build-up a little too much, and you could tell he was too, from the way his face was scrunched up in pleasure and the way his lips were parted to let out short breaths.

“Please, princess. I need to be inside you, I have been wishing for this moment for almost a year, don’t make me wait any longer.”

You nodded, lifting yourself up as he quickly took himself within his hand, pumping himself easily with all the slick on his skin, before he was lining himself up, his eyes finding yours and his other hand finding your jaw, bringing your lips down to meet his in a tender kiss as he felt you sink down onto his cock, gasping against your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip as you took him into your warmth, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed within you.

He let out a long and shuddering breath when your hips met his, your walls clamping around him and flexing experimentally, and he wiggled happily, his whole body deflating as a look of ecstasy and joy took him over. “Holy fuck, you feel incredible.”

You rolled your hips back, circling them slowly as you adjusted to his size, and you felt the breath knocked from your lungs as he dragged against every inch of your walls slowly. There was no barrier between you, and your forehead dropped down to press against his as you experimented with the swivels of your hips and the movements you made, trying to find a rhythm of what worked best for the both of you. His hands came up to your hips, holding on tightly and helping you move, and when his noises picked up in frequency and pitch at the same time that your own eyes rolled back and your skin erupted in goosebumps was when you knew you had found the best way to move.

You left a series of prolonged and loving kisses to his lips, feeling him lean up into it as best as possible, before your nails were digging into his skin scraping lightly as you moved yourself back to sitting up on his lap. He stretched you out, his generous girth and length filling you to the brim, and he was tapping against spots you didn’t even know you had, bringing you more pleasure than you could possibly have imagined, and you clenched around him tightly and rolled the muscles in your stomach. “Oh, God! Don’t do that unless you want me to cum in like thirty seconds, because that was fucking incredible, but I won’t last if you do.”

His words were wheezed out and you smirked, repeating the action and watching the way he writhed and squirmed underneath you, and he shot you a mock glare, pinching at your thighs and making you jump in a way that brought both of you a little jolt of electricity.

“You are a hazard to my fucking health, princess.”

A needy noise left you at the pet name, and you began to bob up and down on his shaft, throwing you head back as you took what you wanted, the feeling of another climax buildings as creeping through your veins and making your vision flash with spots as your eyes rolled, and your lips were drying with each quick pant you took for breath. The angle changed when he pushed himself up onto his hands, and a cry left you, your legs tightening around him as he pushed against a certain spot.

“There?”

“Right there, Stiles! Fuck, please!” Your hands were in his hair, his lips on your tits and teeth grazing your skin as he tried to buck up to meet your movements, and you only sped up more and more as you found yourself becoming comfortable in your motions. The room seemed to fade away, nothing mattered between the two of you except the way his hands felt on your body and the way his cock felt every time it slid out of you almost entirely, before you were slamming yourself back or him and crying out his name.

His own mumbles of praise and arousal were spurring you on, your body feeling like it was on cloud nine, and you no longer felt intoxicated on anything except the feeling of his body underneath you, the way he looked at you lighting you up and the way he kissed you making you feel like nothing would ever matter again. Stiles meant everything, he was made for you, and you could feel from the way the pair of you fit so well together that nothing would ever matter again, as long as you had him and he had you.

Your muscles were growing tired, your knees aching thighs screaming out, but your climax was so close that you could barely even speak sentences now, nothing but his name and your begs for more, and you could feel him twitching and leaking precum within you as he neared his peak. He fell back until he was laying down again, his legs still popped up behind you and you followed after him, a hand on either side of his head as his thrusts into you became easier for him, your jaw slack and tears lining your eyes as pure pleasure overtook you.

He picked up his pace, chasing his own high as well as yours frantically and the press of your chest to his, the feel of the short hairs at his base tickling against your overstimulated clit was enough to completely drive you into bliss. He was pounding into you, never letting up as he kissed your through your climax, feeling you scream out into his mouth as he muffled your sounds and made sure to fuck you through until you could no longer take it. You were scratching at his chest, shaking as everything all when into hyperdrive, feeling like you were floating as he flipped you over, holding your legs up and open as he desperately fucked into your abused hole, wetness on your cheeks as a third orgasm built, straight off of the second one and it all became too much.

His fingers on your clit, his mouth on your chest, his cock stretching you out wide and dragging against your rim with each deep and penetrating thrust, and your fingers tangled in the bedsheets as you thrashed happily under him. Nothing had ever felt this good, no orgasm you’d ever had with anyone else or alone, nothing you had even imagined, and every nerve within you was sparking and crackling with energy as you finally exploded for a third and final time.

You clenched around him so hard that you dragged him over the edge with you, his body collapsing down onto you as he went entirely boneless, spasming atop you as the two of you pressed together and rolled through your peaks. Spurts of hot and thick cum filled you up in ropes, spattering against your walls and filling you up, so much so that each time he shafted you could feel him leaking out of you and dripping down into the bedsheets below, and he pressed multiple soft and chaste kisses to the skin that he could reach, before letting out a deep and satisfied groan.

“Oh, my God. That was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had.” He was crushing you, but you still managed to let out a small giggle underneath him, before he was rolling himself off of you and pulling out, a relieved sigh on your lips as he did. “You’re incredible, absolutely amazing, the best. Just the best. Fuck, I can’t wait to do that again, and just be with you. This is going to be great, an-”

You pressed up to push your lips against his, and he let out a soft sound when you did, before his lips were curling up in a smile and he was kissing you back as best he could.

“You were rambling. You’re even more affectionate after sex.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No! God, no, I love it.” You rubbed the tip of your nose with his, before you were sitting up and grumbling at the protests your body made as you did. “I like it when you’re all clingy and needy, it makes me feel less weird about it when I do the same to you.”

“I like it when you get all touchy, and now I can really do something about it, because let me tell you, all those cute time that you’d come over and just want to cuddle me while I was cooking for us or when you’d hold my hand when we went shopping or lean into me when you’re tired? I wanted to kiss you so fucking badly, and now I can.” Long fingers brushed sweaty and matted hair out of your face, and he pressed his lips to your forehead, before standing up and shucking off the jeans that were still pooled around his calves, kicking off all the remnants of his clothing.

“I can’t wait, because a little secret would be that I wanted you to kiss me in all of those times, too.”

“Good to know, princess.” You hummed, accepting the hands he was holding out to you, and his eyes scanned along your naked form, swallowing thickly and averting his eyes when he caught sight of the mess leaking out of you. “We should get cleaned up, then you can have those cuddles I promised you.”

“Bath time, then a movie?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

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flightlessnightingale · 4 years ago

Text

Police attacked medics during the Minneapolis BLM protests last summer. They turned my city into a war zone and destroyed those trying to save it. They held us hostage. Here’s just one of my stories:

I was volunteering in an emergency medical triage center outside the Kmart at Lake St. & 32nd in Minneapolis. It had gotten too late for me to get home safe, and I wanted to be nice to my mother; stay out of harms way. I decided to stay out of the protests, and volunteer for the night at the Kmart Emergency Medical Triage Center. Built out of salvage by volunteers in a single day, it was a breathtaking symbol of what a community can do to support each other. I wish that more could have seen it. People coming out of retirement to help their city. University of Minnesota Med students coming as far as Morris and Rochester.

When curfew hit, we were given the order "If you're not here to help, LEAVE. Whoever comes through those gates, we help. I don't want A. C. A. B. preventing anyone from saving anyone else's life." Despite agreeing to treat both sides of this conflict, only one side got hurt, and the other attacked us.

I saw what I realized to be an Long Range Acoustic Device (LRAD) in the distance, atop an armored vehicle moving towards us and away from smoke I had not seen earlier that day. Hundreds of people ran past us, one ran up yelling "You gotta get out of here man." One of the organizers stated "We're medical, we're allowed to be here." The man cried out bluntly, urging us to seek shelter. "They don't care man, they don't care." We were treating multiple patients, themselves victims of police brutality, when a wave of dozens of law enforcement officers shot us until we were forced to abandon our post. The armored vehicle was with them, a sniper next to the LRAD. We had red cross insignias and had our hands up and were shouting "MEDIC. MEDICAL"

They said nothing. No announcement, just silence and gunshots. And the LRAD 1000, which made it feel like I was underwater, like both my body and brain were being attacked but in a way neither could comprehend. An LRAD 1000′s maximum operating distance is 3,000 meters, but its minimum is about 1,800. They were far below that. As my hearing became muffled, they just kept shooting. They shot at nurses and med students trying to save limbs and lives. Until we were forced to abandon both our patients and supplies. As I looked back I saw teargas billowing out of our hospital made out of salvage, ruining thousands of pieces of medical equipment. The leader of my station, station 4, was a retired and currently homeless veterinarian. She had been in a car crash in 2017, and could not run. Earlier I had offered to carry her to safety if necessary, even had her jump on my back. I never got the chance, and I hope to god she's alright.

We were split into 5 stations, stations 1 and 5 were the intensive care units, with ponchos on to shield from blood. My station treated a highschool girl whose hand was blackened by a teargas canister she picked up with her bare hand and lobbed back at the cops, away from unarmored civilians. That is honestly my only knowledge of any aggressive action by protestors at that point in the night. Talking with a friend who stayed with the protest, he said that even much later in the night, at the highest points of protester violence, all they threw were rocks, bottles, and insults. Not only was this a peaceful protest, but they were attacking a clearly designated emergency medical center along with these peaceful protestors.

Police Approach Kmart Emergency Medical Triage Center Police Attack Kmart Emergency Medical Triage Center WCCO interviews a college student who volunteered at Kmart Emergency Medical Triage Center

The last video has jarring personal testimony from someone on station 5.

We walked slowly at first, remaining calm, our heads tilted down so that they couldn't scan our faces. We thought it was a false alarm; an attack on a Medical Center in a war zone is a crime against humanity. We stopped for just a moment. The bullets started hailing down so much faster, and I ran, I ran as fast as I could.

I spent that night hiding in the concrete basement of an apartment building with a bunch of medics and volunteers. Not from rioters, and only barely from white supremacists. From the same cops I was so excited about saving the lives of. We had our muffled hearts beating out of our chests as we heard commotion upstairs. It was a highschool boy dragging his girlfriend to shelter. The girlfriend's face had a laceration and massive swelling from being hit in the face with a rubber bullet, and would likely have lost the eye if her boyfriend hadn't accidentally sought refuge with medics. There were search parties hunting medics, we saw cop lights through the windows. We had to work by lantern light to hide from them. Later heard news that tires in the back lot of the Kmart were slashed. LEOs, including St. Cloud police, admitted to press they slashed said tires. (conveniently leaving out that they were medics’ and journalists’). The next morning there were white supremacists circling the streets.

I later found they slashed every single tire in that lot, including the cars of multiple journalists, including international. Police attacked a clearly designated and currently active medical encampment, gassed their supplies, and slashed every single one of their tires. The Multi-Agency Command Center on Civil Unrest (MACC) announced that the tire slashing was a necessary adaption to cars being used as weapons by rioters. This was true in the days prior, but this was a peaceful protest. The MACC announcement and the tire slashing at the Triage Center were in minutes of each other. We believe that MACC's statement was a cover-up for that part of the attack. Which makes sense, given that the MACC tip line sends you to 2 places, the FBI, and the Minneapolis Police Department.

I grew up watching M*A*S*H*, I truly love the show. I was excited to help anyone I could. Instead of treating U.S. troops, we were attacked by them. They’re only exempt from being war criminals because it doesn’t count when you do it to your own citizens.

The girlfriend's favorite song is You Got Me by Erykah Badu & The Roots. A few days later, I talked to the girl who held a teargas canister in her bare hand, at a protest outside the governor's mansion. She was genuinely hopeful despite what she'd been through. Both were able to receive the medical treatments they needed thanks to generous donations.

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vxlkyrie · 4 years ago

Note

hcs about being friends with the bau?

warning: cursing, mentions of alcohol

a/n: tell me why i have written a page about this in my journal lmao (this will include those from season 7 and season 13 cuz those are my favorite lineups)

first of all, let me just say that you are also an ssa working for the bau, so obviously you became a part of the bau family

being the youngest, everyone would call you the baby/the child of the unit

they would protect you at all costs (esp the guys)

had a shitty date? they would be at your side to listen to you rant

maybe even confront your date the day after and put them in their place

if you were going out alone, one of them would meet up with you to make sure you were okay

you told them that you’ll be okay, but they’ll still worry about you

and make sure you text them when you get home

and although you hate that they treat you like a child sometimes, you still love them with all your heart

anyways, you would do a lot of random shit with your second family

like getting drunk at rossi’s and crash in one of his guest bedrooms (honestly, the whole team does that lol)

probably because y’all were playing a drinking game

or maybe you just wanted to get wasted while getting full from rossi’s homemade pasta

you’d also get drunk with penelope and savannah at derek’s place (you know that one episode)

babysit (and spoil) everyone’s kids

one time, matt told you to stop buying gifts for his five kids, but you couldn’t help it

you’d also watch over sergio and roxy

whether it was just housesitting or taking them out for a walk

you would binge-watch doctor who with spencer and penelope

and definitely dress up and go to conventions with them

you would go to the foreign film festival with spencer whether you knew the language the movie’s being played in or not

you would go to horror movie premiers with them

when they saw that absolutely nothing scared you, they were lowkey terrified of you

everyday at the office, you made it your goal to tell a joke or a story to hotch to try and make him laugh or at least smile

and you would succeed almost every time

when you all went out to a club, you found yourself (platonically) throwing it back on emily, derek, luke, or tara

they would also protect you if some creepy dude tried to make a pass at you

or you’d pretend to be emily or tara’s gf to scare off a guy

the parties y’all would throw oh my god

halloween parties

spencer would so help you with decorating

penelope knew how to make any scary treat

the scary props for your photobooth wall

and everyone’s costumes *chef’s kisses*

christmas parties

ugly christmas sweaters

secret santa with the whole team

decorating cookies and a gingerbread house

random mistletoes that cause matt and luke to share a very awkward but quick peck (it was funny as shit though)

you would throw everyone a surprise birthday party

but you bawled your eyes out when the team threw a surprise birthday for you (they found your pinterest board lmfao)

you also hung out with the girls a lot

you would go shopping with them

buying yourself a new wardrobe while also getting all the guys a little gift

you’d have random sleepovers with them

face masks and rewatching twilight (and crying)

you would also participate in that whole fbi baseball event they had (my favorite episode tbh)

the bau cheering for you as you made a homerun every turn

and the other units now knowing not to fuck with you

on the plane ride home from a case, instead of falling asleep quickly like the others do

you’d have your earbuds in and dance in your seat

not noticing derek laughing at you

or spencer, who was in the middle of reading, smiling at you

both confused as to how you still have so much energy left

when everyone was asleep, you’d go around and take pictures of the team sleeping

you literally have an album that’s just the bau making ugly faces

and you would so use them as reaction memes

i’m just saying, there’s no way the bau does not have a big groupchat together (and everyone has “baby” as your contact name)

y’all don’t even talk about cases

you guys just talk about whatever

and you’d send memes to them (and probably explain them to spencer)

you, emily, and penelope are the only ones to send reactions pics (until you start sending everyone’s faces and they get mad lol)

at jj’s wedding, you’d dance with everyone

and i mean everyone

including jj and will (we stan this man in this household)

when spencer’s hair started to grow longer

you’d tied them up in ponytails or even little space buns (he would look so cute omg)

it didn’t matter if it was just you two hanging out or y’all were working

and he would leave it on the whole day

one day, you decided to style swap with penelope

you both walked into the office looking like each other

you’d be wearing the brightest of colors

while penelope wore darker clothing

which threw the whole team off guard, but they continued to tease you two

at least that day was just filled with paperwork and you didn’t have to fly out for a case

when derek and spencer were having their little prank war, you decided to one-up them and prank both of them

so now it’s you three pulling pranks on each other until rossi or hotch stops all of you

you would go get ice cream or frozen yogurt with spencer (even if you were lactose intolerant)

you’d do the spicy ramen challenge with penelope (i would cry tbh)

if you were to ever carpool with spencer and he’d let you listen to whatever you want

you’d probably start playing rap and sing all of the lyrics (imagine rapping to wap in front of him he’d scream)

if derek was also riding with you two, he would so hype you up

at first, spencer would look at you with wide eyes as he heard every swear word leave your mouth

but one day, you’d play your favorite rap songs again and you hear spencer mutter the lyrics

your jaw literally dropped

imagine karaoke nights with the bau

they would be so fucking fun

it doesn’t matter if you were a good singer or not

the whole team would be cheering for you (especially hotch don’t come for me)

if you were singing an upbeat song, everyone’s dancing

if you were singing a ballad, everyone’s crying and waving their phone’s flashlights

in conclusion, when you weren’t out working cases, you would have the time of your life hanging out with the bau

you were so grateful to have them by your side

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stxrrywildflower · 4 years ago

Text

vigilante

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - the team meets one of the most reputable vigilantes during a case, suprisingly, it’s someone they least expect

warnings - mentions of case, cursing, past death, abuse

word count - ?

when you were 15, your parents were shot and killed right in front of you. as cliché as it sounds, that was the start of you story.

after moving in with a relative, you started online school. from that moment on, you trained and took the law into your own hands. sure, it was partially illegal and there were a lot of questions from your family, but, you couldn’t sit around in your city and watch other people suffer just as you did. you were currently 17 and as strong as ever with no plans of slowing down. especially with the severity of the most recent crime.

your signature was a spade. whether on a card or a piece of paper, it was at ever crime scene letting the police know you had helped.

this case was like no other. one man or woman, you weren’t quite sure yet, was murdering victims of all age ranges throughout town. after the second body was found, you began your own personal investigation. the way you worked was going to crime scenes either before or after the police were there and found whatever you could. there were a ton of times you found clues and either called in an anonymous tip or wrote it down on paper.

the bau team landed down in pittsburgh after a fairly short flight. the local police department had called the team in once more victims had turned up. the victimology was all over the place and they needed to find every possible ounce of information.

“we have an anonymous tip line but our usual caller hasn’t given us anything. other than that, you can set up in the conference room and boards are in there too,” the deputy announced. hotch was the one who thanked him while the team headed into the conference room.

“usual caller?” j.j. whispered to morgan who then shrugged. “who knows. could just be some local crime fan,” the agent responded. with that, the bau team went to work.

for the next two days the team and police force worked tirelessly to find something that would help them catch the killer. but alas, absolutely nothing. no calls on the tip line and no new bodies found. that was, until they had caught you.

“some jogger just reported some suspicious activity. said they saw someone in the alley on the ground with another person standing over them. it’s a stretch but it could be something. i’ve already sent some officers out,” the deputy alerted.

“alright, keep us informed if they find anything,” hotch responded.

it was a bit unusual for hotch to not send anyone to the potential crime scene but that was just it, it was only a possible scene.

it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes later when a few cops walked in. all heads shot up for one reason. they were pushing along a teenage girl in handcuffs.

you were dressed in black jeans with a black and white plaid jacket. combat boots were your choice of shoes accompanied by a beanie on your head. you looked exactly like the rebellious teenager in some movie. your knuckles were bruised pretty badly and you had a small cut on your lip. the team was obviously shocked to see that an arrest was made, nonetheless a teenager.

“who is she?” rossi asked.

“y/n y/l/n. we found her at the crime scene with the body,” the deputy explained.

“where are her parents?”

“she lives with one of her relatives. they have been notified but are choosing to let us deal with the situation since they are on a trip.”

“and you think she did it?” hotch questioned just as you were led to one of the interrogation rooms.

“all i’m saying is that she has motive. her parents died a few years back during a home invasion. adding on the bruises and the fact that she was found with the body, it’s a possibility.”

“prentiss and rossi, head down to the crime scene and examine the body. if you don’t mind i would like to speak with her,” hotch spoke. upon seeing a nod from the deputy, he followed him back to the room you were in. the rest of the team stood outside of window, peering in to watch the interrogation that was about to go down.

meanwhile, you sat back in your chair, keeping your head low as you moved the handcuffs back and forth across the bar on the table they were attached to. the cops had already searched you for weapons, not like you had any.

when the door opened to the interrogation room, you didn’t even bother looking up all the way. out of the corner of your eye, you did see two men walking in. one was the deputy, you recognized him, but the other you had never even seen before.

a file folder with the fbi logo and bold lettering was then placed on the table. your eyes widened slightly, maybe you were in more trouble than you thought. you hadn’t intended to be caught, that was obvious, but the police arrived and reprimanded you even before you could formulate a plan.

“do you know what this is?” the deputy spoke harshly.

the still mystery man held his hand out as a way to tell the deputy to stand down. “hi y/n, i’m agent hotchner with the bau profiling team. would it be okay to ask you some questions?” hotchner asked. you nodded slightly.

“what were you doing at the crime scene?” hotch questioned outright.

“i was investigating mr. hotchner,” you answered plainly.

“you were investigating a dead body? sounds like bullshit to me,” the deputy butted in. it didn’t take a profiler to know that he was becoming restless with the case.

“don’t you want to know who i am?” you snapped.

“i know who you are y/n. you’re on the wrong side of the law and a suspect in a series of murders,” the deputy responded.

“honestly you couldn’t be more wrong dan,” you spat, using the deputy’s first name. with the limited mobility you had, you reached into your coat pocket. both of the men in the room visibly tensed. “relax, i’ve already been searched.”

you tossed the familiar spade card onto the table before sitting back and resuming your motion of staring down.

hotch looked towards the deputy who swallowed nervously and scrambled to grab the card. the fbi agent furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he motioned for the deputy to follow him. after the door slammed shut, you were left in complete silence.

“what was that?” hotch asked the second they exited the interrogation room. the rest of the bau team had witnessed the encounter and joined the two men for answers.

“ever since a year-and-a-half ago, we’ve gotten calls and been given clues through that as well as at crime scenes. at first we thought it could be a potential signature of the criminal but after a couple cases, we realized that this person was actually helping solve these cases and finding clues we couldn’t even see. i never would have thought it would be a teenager,” the deputy responded.

“how does y/n manage to do all that?” emily spoke up. “we’re not sure. she’s always managed to be there either before we get there or even after we leave.”

“if y/n has been investigating the crime scenes, she may have seen the unsub without even realizing it,” rossi added. “that’s true, though i’m not sure she’ll be willing to talk after that.” the teams eyes all drifted to the one-way glass were you still sat, head down and running your fingers over your bruises.

you eventually lost track of the time you spent in the interrogation room. but, by your judgment, it was around three hours. a blonde woman was the first to enter the room. she sat down at the table for a moment, introduced herself, before offering you water.

“no thank you mrs. jareau,” you had replied.

the second agent to enter immediately tried to make feel more comfortable despite the situation you were in. you had to admit, the terrible jokes he told did make you smile slightly. he offered you water too. just like with j.j., you replied with “no thank you mr. morgan.”

with the responses you gave, the team decided to regroup without the pressure of the local police department. “did you notice how y/n addressed the deputy by the first name but all j.j. and morgan as mrs. and mr.?” spencer commented.

“the deputy did mention that she has a history with the police department,” hotch started before returning to morgan, “call garcia and have her fly in. y/n can relate to her the most.” morgan nodded at hotch’s request before exiting the room to call the tech genius.

you bounced your leg out of pure nervousness. a significant amount of time had gone since morgan had talked to you. just as you were starting to realize that they could only hold you for a certain amount of time, the door opened once again.

in walked another blonde woman, this time with bright clothes and accessories on. she sat down at the seat across from you and pulled a laptop out of her bag. you finally met her sympathetic gaze. “are you another fbi agent?” you asked softly.

“oh no, i wouldn’t last five minutes in the field. well my name is penelope garcia, i’m the technical analyst for the team.”

“and they called you in to talk to me? with all due respect ms. garcia, why are you here?” you responded. “okay, first things first, you can call me penelope. second, i can get those handcuffs off for you. i’m sure they’re hurting,” penelope offered.

once your wrists were released, you rubbed them as they had become red from being detained. “i know you really don’t want to talk about what happened but we do really need your help catching the criminals who did this,” penelope spoke. “like i said before, why are you here,” you added emphasis on the ‘you’.

“i have a past like you. i was my own type of vigilant after i lost my parents.”

while you knew penelope meant well with that sentence, you couldn’t help but grow angry. “you know nothing about me,” you seethed. penelope was slightly taken aback by your reaction and tone.

“my parents died because some deadbeat cops were out drinking instead of responding to my call. why do you think i do what i do?” you practically yelled, “i take the law into my own hands so people don’t have to suffer the same way i did.”

the second you were done your slight outburst, morgan walked in. you collapsed back in your chair. “derek i’m fine. you don’t need to be in here,” penelope whispered, hoping you wouldn’t hear. you did, however. “alright. i’m still going to stay in here if you don’t mind,” derek responded.

there was a slightly awkward silence that fell over the room. neither penelope or derek really knew what to say to you. they had both seen how you reacted to penelope trying to connect to you.

“it’s not like my family knows or cares. i don’t even know if i should really call them that. i was only taken in because they pretty much had too,” you grumbled.

both derek and penelope noticed you flinch at the mention of your family. and the bruises you acquired were never revealed how you got them.

“honey are they hurting you?” penelope asked softly.

tears slowly began to trickle down your cheeks. you held your hands close to your chest as the full on sobs started. in an instant, penelope was moving her chair over to sit by your side. “a group of hackers became my family after my parents died. stayed with them for awhile before i was recruited by the fbi and found such an amazing and loving team. it does get better, i promise you,” penelope offered.

you stayed like that for a few moments, just leaning into penelope’s side as she wrapped a comforting arm around you. “i’ll talk to mr. hotchner again. see if anything i concluded can help you,” you spoke.

with one final squeeze to your shoulder, penelope stood up and left the interrogation room with derek. hotch replaced the two, handing you a file for the second time that day. you took a deep breath before relaying all the information you had found out.

meanwhile, on the outside, penelope was close to tears. “her family is hurting her derek. people who are supposed to love and protect her are hurting her!” garcia exclaimed. morgan walked over and took her hands in his. “hey, baby girl. i need you to calm down. we’ll figure out a way to help her. but right now, we need your head in the case. reid and prentiss have some names for you to run. can you do that for me?” morgan asked. penelope nodded and got to work.

____

you were released from custody when you were done speaking with hotch.

the information provided was more then helpful. there had been a few key details that even the profilers had missed. they all wondered what you would see if another body did in fact turn up. a card with everyone’s phone numbers on it was provided to you incase you needed anything or they needed help. penelope had offered to stay with you. you had accepted, mostly because you didn’t want to be alone and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

when you and penelope were having breakfast the following morning, her phone had began to ring. “another one?” you questioned when she hug you.

“yeah. hotch requested your help. just as another consult,” penelope smiled slightly. you nodded as a way to agree, just because you were caught and revealed some things about yourself didn’t mean you were going to stop from doing what you always did.

morgan picked you up from your house. as you got into the back and penelope into the front seat, morgan leaned back and handed you a coat. “what’s this?” you asked. “if your going to be on the crime scene with us, you’re going to need some identification.” you simply shrugged and slipped on the jacket. big bold yellow letters spelling out ‘fbi’ were on the back making you let out a breath.

on the crime scene, you and morgan ducked under the police tape and walked over to the sheet covering the body. just as you kneeled down, the team all glanced around at each other.

never in a million years would they have thought they would be using a teenager in an fbi jacket as a consult.

you gave everything you knew to hotch before going back to the car to sit with penelope. “so, any plans for school?” she asked, trying to start a conversation. “i’m not really sure if i want to go to college. not even sure if i could get in.” penelope frowned, unsatisfied with your answer.

the unsub was caught four days later, your clues giving the final push to identify the killer. you were back at home with penelope as the team was finishing up at the police station. before departing, she would need to pack up all of her stuff.

“before i go, i want to talk to you about something. now just listen first. i’ve may have done a thing and figured out a way to get you out of this home. it’s a little confusing to explain but it’s only a fact that you can’t be here anymore,” penelope spoke.

“pen-” you started, “where am i even supposed to go?”

“that’s the best part. if you agreed, we can bring you to d.c. with us and you can be our under my care until your 18. my team travels all the time but i stay in the office to do my work. if you agree, we can get you into a good school or even just a stable job. you’re incredibly talented, i’m sure it want be a challenge.”

tears began to well up in your eyes. “you really want to take care of me?” you choked out. penelope nodded with a grin before pulling you into a tight hug. “this sounds a little suspicious,” you laughed.

“yeah well i’m a hacker. i’ll do anything to help people out,” penelope replied.

it was absolutely crazy that all it took for a teenage vigilante to find a new family was just to be caught. and honestly, it was well worth it.

#criminal #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #bau team #bau team x teen reader #teen reader

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babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

Text

DIWK - Chapter thirteen: "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new"

Words count: 16,5K

Summary: Spencer's headaches don't seem to have a logical explanation. The only thing that makes sense is that he has been causing them to himself by overthinking something that's already clear: he has been an asshole, and he should tell reader how he feels. Reader realizes she's been stupid all along. And then, she goes out with James. Frank, Lu, Garcia, and Derek finally intervene.

Warnings: Cursing (but that's just my writing style), angst, hurt, and a little comfort from friends. There's a fight, alcohol consumption. Someone is getting drunk...

A/N: Ok, so... here we go!

Masterlist

Words count: 16,5K

Summary: Spencer's headaches don't seem to have a logical explanation. The only thing that makes sense is that he has been causing them to himself by overthinking something already clear: he has been an asshole, and he should tell reader how he feels. Reader realizes she's been stupid all along. Will she go out with James? Frank, Lu, Garcia, and Derek finally intervene.

Warnings: Cursing (but that's just my writing style), angst, hurt, and a little comfort from friends. There's a fight, alcohol consumption. Someone is getting drunk...

A/N: Ok, so... things are slowly but surely happening here.

---

Spencer's point of view

- "That doesn't make any sense!"- I nearly lost it at my medical appointment. To be fair, I was losing my sanity for the last week, but that day, that minute, I have had enough.

- "I'm not sure what you want me to say,"- the doctor frowned, confused by my reaction.

- "So there's nothing wrong?"

- "Well, your scans are perfectly normal, and there doesn't seem to be any physical explanation for your headaches."

- "Well, what do I do now?"- I was lost. I was hoping he could tell me there was something physically wrong with me that we could fix. But apparently, everything was ok.

- "Well, have you considered..."

- "Considered what?"- I knew what he was implying, but I didn't want to deal with that. The doctor sighed and simply just said it.

- "A psychosomatic cause."

- "Psychosomatic?"

- "It just means mental or emotional stress..."

I had to cut the doctor right there, 'cos it was nearly insulting that he thought he needed to explain to me what that meant.

- "I know what psychosomatic means, doctor, but it's not that."

- "Well, I think it's something we should consider."

- "It's not... I'm not crazy!"- but yes, I was going a little crazy at the time.

- "Crazy? Dr. Reid, I'm not saying..."- the professional stared at me, shocked, as I put on my satchel and stood up.

- "I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light because there's something wrong with me physically, not mentally. It's not that."

- "That?"

- "Listen, doctor, my mother's a paranoid schizophrenic who's been institutionalized, so I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you, and it's not that. It's not."

I walked to the door, but before I could leave or dramatically storm out, the doctor added one more thing.

- "Your headaches are more likely caused by stress due, I suspect, to your very consuming job. My recommendation is to take a few weeks off and have a real vacation. Disconnect from work, and relax. That's all."

The doctor seemed genuinely concerned, so I just nodded and walked out. My head was killing me, and to be honest, I wasn't thinking straight.

It was Thursday. My head was killing me. I hadn't spoken more than a handful of words with (Y/N) since last Friday, and to call it torture came short. It was consuming my whole life at that point. I hadn't slept more than maybe three hours that entire week. After we reached home from Miami, I focused on the paperwork and whatever request for information that crossed my desk.

But I wasn't blind, neither deaf nor stupid. No, I was stupid for wasting so many chances I had in almost five years to tell (Y/N) how much I loved her. Now I was doomed to look at her from a safe distance, as she enjoyed life with her new boyfriend. James.

I first heard his name Wednesday morning when a delivery boy showed up at the bullpen, asking for (Y/N). Everybody looked at her, and she blushed as she raised her hand, and the delivery boy gave her a small box and asked her to sign for the package.

- "What is that, pretty girl?"- Morgan asked when the delivery was gone, and he walked over to see what was into the box.

- "I have no idea... but it passed security, so I know it's not a bomb"- she chuckled and opened it.

- "Wow! Did you send her these, kid?"- Morgan looked at me chuckling, but as soon as he saw my serious expression, he frowned, confused.

- "This is incredible!"- it was the whole Jane Austen collection in a deluxe edition. It was gorgeous. She obviously loved it. And it came with a card.

- "Can't wait 'till Friday night. James"- Emily read out loud as (Y/N) stared at the box, blushing- "Ok missy, you have some explaining to do!"

But I didn't stick around to hear the rest of the story. I didn't need the torture. So I stood up and walked to the kitchenette to get another cup of coffee. And then I hid in the briefing room because I needed to be on my own for a while. I sat at the table and stared at my hands, trying to remain calm. I couldn't cry at work. I shouldn't show my true feelings when my friends were around. I didn't want them asking a million questions I didn't want to answer with the truth.

- "Sorry, man,"- Morgan said as he walked in and sat at the other side of the table- I thought you had sent her those books 'cos you have been acting all weird lately, and you were trying to get on her good side

- "Don't worry"- I tried to look cool and even smiled at Morgan, but he knew better than that.

- "So... how are you?"

- "I'm ok, you?"- I was annoyed already, but I knew there was no way out from that conversation

- "Kid, come on. You can talk to me."

- "There is nothing I wanna talk about right now. I am ok!"- I stood up and walked around the room, frustrated and trying not to yell.

- "Come on, Reid. It's getting painful to watch! You have to tell her how you feel!"- Derek stood up too, and I widened my eyes at his words, scared everybody downstairs might have heard us. I looked at the door; it was locked.

- "I don't want to talk about that now."

- "Man! Come on!"- but I passed by his side and ignored him, opening the door and basically running back to my desk.

From where I could clearly see (Y/N) blushing and staring at her books. Great.

That day went painfully slow. By the time I reached my apartment, I was exhausted both mentally and emotionally. My head was killing me, and all I wanted was to get under the covers of my bed with a book, a cup of herbal tea and make a massive effort to get some sleep.

Apparently, I was asking for too much. Ten minutes after my arrival, my bell rang, forcing my weary body to move from the couch to the door. Sadly, it wasn't (Y/N), the only person I wanted to see that minute. Instead, it was Ashley, and I had to pretend and smile when I saw her.

- "Hey! Am I interrupting something?"- she asked with a cheerful smile as she stood by the door and showed me a paper bag- I got some extra dumplings, and I thought you might like to share

- "Thank you, Ashley... but I already ate."- I lied and watched her leave the box on my table and take a look around- "Wait, where did you get my address?"

- "It's on the system."- she answered casually, and I frowned, thinking there had to be a better way to keep our information classified if we were FBI agents. Not that I didn't want Ashley to know where I lived, but... I just didn't want her there.

- "And what were you doing?"

- "Getting... really to bed, actually. I am weary."

- "And... Do you need any help?"- Ashley stood closer to me and smiled mischievously. I cleared my throat, feeling awkward and even a little embarrassed with her proposal.

- "No, thank you, I'm ok."

But she didn't get the hint. Instead, she ran her tongue through her lips very slowly and rested her hands on my hips. My whole body aches at that touch. Not because I craved more, but because it made me feel nervous and uneasy. I didn't want her to touch me, but I didn't want to be rude.

- "You know, Spence, (Y/N) has a boyfriend now, and she definitely moved on with her life. Maybe you should start thinking about doing the same."

- "I'm sorry?"- I frowned as I stared at her silly grin. She thought she was flirting, but instead, she was actually hurting me.

- "I saw her Friday with Anderson's friend. She seemed to be having a great time. Maybe it's time you have fun too."- she leaned in and tried to kiss me, but I took three steps back and shook my head right away.

- "No, Ashley, it's not like that,"- she frowned, confused, and blushed, embarrassed immediately.

-" What? But I thought you... I thought you liked me."

- "I'm sorry, Ashley, but..."- I hesitated in my answer, trying to find the right ways to reject her. I had never rejected anyone before in my entire life. I have never been lucky with girls at all.

- "But what? You don't want me?"

No. I didn't want her. Not even a little. Not even at all. But I couldn't tell her that just upfront. I had to sugarcoat it. I didn't want to hurt her, though. She wasn't a bad person. Just... Not the right person for me.

- "I'm sorry, Ashley. I am sure you are an amazing woman, and any man would be glad to..."

- "Not any man, Spencer. You! I want you!"- but I just shook my head and sighed.

- "I'm sorry."

That was all I managed to answer. Her cheeks kept blushing, and somehow, her eyes were tearing up too. I remembered (Y/N) once told me that she would involuntarily cry every time she was upset, which always made her feel weak. I thought I could tell Ashley crying was totally normal when one's upset. But instead, I just stayed quiet.

- "You know, she is with someone else now. So she clearly doesn't want you, Spencer. Why are you waiting for her?"

I could tell she meant to hurt me, but she couldn't do it. Why? I guess because I knew she didn't understand (Y/N) and me. She tried to make it seem like (Y/N) had ruined everything, but I knew it had been me. There was no one else to blame but me.

- "I don't wanna fight with you, Ashley,"- I whispered and shook my head- And I don't want to talk about (Y/N) with you.

- "She doesn't love you, Spencer,"- that we both agreed on.

- "She has nothing to do with what's going on right here. I don't wanna have anything but a professional relationship with you, Ashley. I'm sorry if you had any other thoughts about us, but it's not gonna happen. Not tonight, not ever. And not because of (Y/N)."

Ashley gave me a stern look. Her chin quivered, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she grabbed the food she had brought and walked to the door.

- "You are gonna regret this, Spencer!!"- she yelled and stormed out of my apartment, slamming the door.

But no matter what, I knew I wouldn't. I wasn't going to regret rejecting her that night.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I stared at the books James had sent me and sighed. I was home alone on a Wednesday night, staring at a bunch of books on my coffee table. They were unique, gorgeous, and clearly expensive. But they meant nothing compared to the one sitting at their side: Spencer's edition of the Illustrated Man. It was old, had many notes on the sides, and the corner of the pages had been folded... primarily by me.

I sipped my glass of wine and sighed. I missed Spencer. I didn't want to go out with James. I wasn't interested in him at all. I just liked the attention I got from him, mostly 'cos I knew he had a crush on me... because Anderson had pointed it out as soon as he told me about him.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I ran my fingers through Spencer's book. I missed him. But he was with Ashley now. So I had to move on. I didn't want to, though. I just wanted him. I could almost see him there, on the couch, laughing. I could hear his laughter as we played board games. His current favorite was Monopoly Gamer Mario Kart, and he really enjoyed winning. He could get all cocky as he got all my coins.

Everywhere I looked around in my apartment reminded me of Reid. It was just the books, his cardigan on my couch, the umbrella he had left two years ago, and that belonged in my place now. It was just the pictures of him on the walls, memories of trips, dinners, Christmas, parties with Lu, Frank, and Mikey. It was literally everything. My apartment screamed Spencer Reid because he was the person I had shared the most amazing times with there.

On that kitchen island, we had carved pumpkins every Halloween for the last four years. On that table, he served the first meal he ever prepared from scratch. On that couch, we forgot about all our phobias and cuddled for countless hours.

My whole life was about Spencer Reid. How was I ever going to move on from him? How was I ever going to love someone the way I loved him?

I sobbed and just then realized I was crying my heart out. I held my legs, wrapping my arms around them, and rocked back and forth for a few minutes. I was losing my mind, and the only thing that made sense was crying until there were no more years left inside of me.

When the phone rang, I had a headache. I always get one after I cry. I prayed it wasn't a case 'cos I wasn't really sober after drinking a whole bottle of wine, crying, on the floor. Literally, on the floor. But it wasn't Penelope with a case. It was Frank, and he could tell from the very first moment that something was wrong.

- "Nugget, are you ok?"

- "Yeah, Paco, why?"- I slurred and cursed. I was busted.

- "Why are you drunk?"

- "Because I got home after a horrible day and decided to drown my fucking bad mood in chardonnay. Guess what? The shitty bastard keeps floating, but I am not giving up!"

Frank chuckled with my drunken words. I heard him light a cigarette and walk around somewhere I figured was his apartment.

- "And what is the doc doing?"

- "What the fuck do I know?"- my voice didn't hide the hurt I felt, but I forgot Frank had no idea what was happening between Spencer and me.

- "Doc isn't there?"

- "No, we are no longer tied by the hip."

- "Ok, nugget, what the fuck is going on?"

- "Spencer has a girlfriend."

- "What?!"- I nearly dropped my phone, 'cos Frank yelled into my ear after hearing my reply.

- "Yeah, Spencer Walter Reid has a girlfriend. So if you wanna know about him, you should call fucking agent trainee Seaver, who is probably training his cock right now!!"

I grabbed my glass and finished what was left of the wine. I knew I had another bottle in the fridge, but it was just Wednesday, I still might be called in for a case, and I still had to get up early in the morning to go to work. Getting drunk wasn't the answer. But... I wasn't asking any questions either. So I stood up slowly and walked to the kitchen to grab the bottle.

- "No, nugget. There's no way you are telling me the truth!"

- "Why should I lie? Spencer has a girlfriend. Her name is Ashley."

- "(Y/N), Doc has been in love with you for years! There's no way he has a girlfriend!!"- I put the phone on speaker and left it on the counter to open the cold bottle of wine and pour myself another glass.

- "Can you all people stop saying Spencer is in love with me?!"- tears filled my eyes as I shouted and hit the table- "I know he is not! And that's why I feel like shit!"

- "Ok, nugget... calm down. Are you home?"

- "Yes... can you come over?"

- "I'm sorry, I'm out of town. I came to New York for a job interview."

- "What?! When? Why?"

- "'Cos I thought maybe it was time for a new challenge..."- my heart stopped with those words, and Frank knew it- "But don't worry, I didn't get it. You won't get rid of me so easily, nugget."

- "Good, 'cos I don't want any more changes. I can't deal with any more things changing... I don't like it..."

- "Ok, nugget, I am a little worried now, so I'm going to call Lu and ask her to go to your house, ok?"

- "No, please don't"- I closed my eyes, feeling the room spinning as soon as I did- "I can tell I had a little too much to drink already, so I'll finish this glass, and I'll go to bed."

- "Are you sure?"- I knew Frank was worried, and the last thing I wanted was to be a burden for my friends.

- "Definitely."

- "Ok... what if we do something this weekend?"

- "Sure! I'll be free... if no psychopath decides to ruin our fun again."- Frank chuckled, and I took another sip of my wine.

- "Ok, sounds like a plan. Now please go to bed, and whatever you do, don't do any fucking phone call while you are under the influence."

- "I don't drink and call, Paco. Trust me,"- he chuckled one more time, his laughter bringing a smile to my lips 'cos it too damn contagious not to smile, and then, we said goodnight.

I looked around my kitchen. Nothing but memories with Spencer in there too. I could almost see him sitting at the other side of the kitchen island, sipping his coffee, giving me food facts as I cooked. The only fact I was sure about at that point was that if I wanted to move on from Spencer, I was going to have to move out of that place. Actually, I would have to move cities, states, probably countries. Because I knew everything reminded me of Reid.

But that night, for once, I knew I couldn't move on. I wanted to feel Spencer close, 'cos I missed him too much. So I did all the things I knew I shouldn't. I put on one of his shirts and sweaters and took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around me as I got under the covers of my bed, thinking Spencer was there with me. His clothes still smelled like him, and it was intoxicating.

So I did the only thing I could do: I closed my eyes and cried myself to sleep.

Thursday was a waste of a day. I had so much paperwork to catch up with, I put on my headphones and created a bubble around me because it was the only way to survive. Lucky for me, Seaver wasn't at the BAU that day. She was at the academy. Maybe that was why Spencer looked so sad. He missed her.

- "SSA (Y/L/N)"- I picked up my phone and turned around as soon as I heard Hotch's voice at the other side of the line, calling me at the end of the workday.

- "(Y/N), can you come to my office, please?"

- "Yes, sir."

I took a deep breath as I walked over, and brushed my hands against my pants, to get rid of any wrinkle or fuzz. When was the last time Hotch had called me to his office? Over a year earlier, after I had an argument with a suspect in the interrogation room. In my defense, she was striking my nerves. Ok, fine, I didn't have a reason.

- "Hi, is everything ok?"- I asked as soon as I showed up in Aaron's office.

- "Close the door, (Y/N), please."

And immediately, the knot in my stomach made me feel like I was being called into the principal's office. I turned around to do as asked and caught Spencer's eyes staring at me as he stood in the middle of the bullpen, clearly worried. And I felt so weak and moved by how concerned he looked; I did the first thing that came to mind: I smiled and waved.

- "Please, sit down,"- Aaron pointed at the chair across from him, and I did as told, again.

- "Is everything ok, Hotch?"- my question came right out of me, my lips moving before I had actually decided to speak.

- "I have been trying to find the right way to say this for the last half hour, and I am sorry, but..."

- "Oh shit! I'm fired! Why do you hate me so much?"- I jumped from my chair, and Aaron quickly followed me, trying to smother my reaction.

- "No, (Y/N). You are not fired! And no, I don't hate you! Calm down!"- I looked at him, confused and still suspicious.

- "Please, sit down. It's actually because I care about you that I didn't know how to tell you this, but I think almost five years is enough time to stay aside from what's been going on."

- "I'm sorry, Hotch, but I don't follow"- he clenched his jaw and sighed, frustrated. I just stared at him, waiting for the rest of the speech because my unit chief was clearly trying to find the right words to speak his mind.

- "Listen, (Y/N). This is very hard for me to talk about. I've always tried to keep everybody's personal life aside from the FBI. Unfortunately, your relationship with Reid is starting to affect you at your work."

Clearly, that was why he was so uncomfortable. I turned blood red and looked at my hands resting on my lap. I couldn't look into Hotch's eyes.

- "I don't understand. I don't have a relationship with Spencer."

- "The fact neither of you has acted on your feelings doesn't mean you don't have a relationship."

The words came more upset than what Hotch had intended, so he took a deep breath and walked around his office for a moment.

- "After what happened to Haley, I've given too much thought to many of the decisions I've taken in the last years of my life."

I didn't know how to react to Hotch's words because of all the things I could have thought we would talk about. Listening to my unit chief open his heart and talk about his feelings was definitely not my first guess. Not even the eighth.

- "And I care about you and Reid. I don't want you to have any regrets."

- "Which regrets could I have?"- I don't know why I asked if I knew I wasn't going to like the answer.

- "Spencer is in love with you, and you are in love with him. Stop running away from your feelings and face them. Sometimes you have to be courageous and take the first step."

I looked at Aaron Hotchner, almost certain the man sitting in front of me wasn't the same Aaron Hotchner who had once hired me. The man who refused to speak his heart. At least, not me. No way on earth that was Hotch.

- "I know it's strange that I tell you this, and I know I am not comfortable doing this... but... I can see that you two did something wrong, and you should try to fix it before you regret it."

For once, I couldn't argue those words. I knew the speech, but it was useless lying to Hotch. He could see through all my bullshit.

- "I... don't think he feels the same as I do,"- I whispered and kept my eyes on my hands, feeling how my cheeks blushed immediately.

- "You are wrong. You two have been nonsensical, and if I can be sincere, it's getting painful to watch- I winced in a mix of embarrassment and frustration."

- "Hotch... it's not that easy. I don't know if you noticed, but Ashley is the girl who caught his attention."

- "It's the lies that we keep telling ourselves that define what we are instead of who we can really be."- he sentenced, shaking his head- "He loves you. But for the last few weeks, you two have been acting like you are twelve years old."

- "I don't think you are getting all the info straight. I mean... I have tried to tell him."

- "No, you have tried to teach a blind man how to recognize colors,"- now that was Hotch frustrated. He was clearly awkward but also upset I wasn't following his ideas.

- "I'm pretty sure he is with Seaver."

- "He asked never to be paired with Seaver,"- Hotch refuted, frowning. Now that was new information. But I kept refusing to admit anything.

- "Probably not to be suspicious or to make sure his head was in the job."

- "His request was literally: "I don't want to give (Y/N) any sign I like Seaver, 'cos I don't."

Hotch looked at me in silence as I tried to process what he had just said. I couldn't believe it, but at the same time, you can't ever doubt Hotch.

- "Why would he do such a thing?"

- "You have to ask him."

- "Maybe he just doesn't want anyone suspicious about what they have."

- "Why is it so hard to believe? He loves you!"

I opened my mouth to argue with my boss when Anderson knocked on the door and excused himself.

- "Strauss sent you this, sir. She said it's urgent."- Grant said and cut me a small smile before disappearing from the room.

- "Thank you, Anderson."- Hotch said as he went through the papers and sighed.

- "You are busy,"- I inferred and stood up- "We can continue... whatever this was some other time if you'd like."

I stood up, seeing a clear way out of that awkward conversation. I wasn't sure I could open my heart with him.

- "One more thing, (Y/N)"- Hotch said as I stood up and almost ran to the door.

- "What is it?"

- "Tell him how you feel, or I'll have to take action myself."

- "What kind of actions?"

- "Let's hope we don't get to that point."

Hotch's face was severe. He wasn't joking. I just nodded and walked out of his office, scared of what would happen if I ever told Spencer how I felt. But now I was being forced to. That wasn't good.

I looked around, Morgan was packing his things to leave, and Spencer was on the phone, walking to the elevators. Probably he had a date with Ashley, and he was calling her to tell her he was picking her up. I sighed, exhausted, and shook my head.

- "What is it, pretty girl?"- Morgan cut me a warm smile as I reached his side and sighed.

- "I am so tired. I just wanna go home and get under the blankets of my bed with a warm cup of tea and a book."

- "Damn! That sounds thrilling! When is your big date?"- I frowned, groaning. I had totally forgotten about that date.

- "Tomorrow... I'm kind of hoping we get called on a case so I can cancel..."

- "Why?"- Derek looked at me as I started getting ready to go home.

- "'Cos... I don't feel like going."

- "Then don't,"- his answer was so simple I almost laughed.

- "Yeah... I have to go. Did you see the books that guy sent me?"

- "But that doesn't mean you have to go out on a date. You are not forced to do it just 'cos he sent you a present."

- "I know... but I don't know... maybe I'm just too tired and not thinking clearly."

- "Well, go to sleep, pretty girl. And tomorrow, depending on how you are feeling, you can cancel that date. I know someone who would be thrilled to know you won't go out with some guy."

I just shook my head and put on my jacket. I knew he was talking about Reid, but I wasn't in the mood to keep on talking about him with other teammates. Hotch's pep talk had been enough.

- "See you tomorrow, Derek."

Spencer's point of view

My heart dropped as soon as Hotch called (Y/N) to his office. The last time he had done that, she had gotten into trouble with an unsub. She lost her temper in the interrogation room and almost hit the suspect. Had she done something? Was she in trouble? The fact she smiled and waved at me before closing the door made me feel actually worse. Maybe she knew she was in trouble.

I kept looking over from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside Hotch's office, but I gave up after a few minutes because it was impossible.

I still couldn't shake the thought of (Y/N) being in trouble from my head.

- "Dr. Spencer Reid,"- I answered the phone and didn't take my eye from Hotch's door.

- "Hey Doc, Frank here. How are you?"

- "Hey! Good, how are you?"

- "Good, I was just thinking, is (Y/N) around?"

- "No, she is not. Why? She is with our chief unit... Do you need to reach her?"

- "No. Are you busy tonight?"

- "No, why?"

- "I need to talk to you. Alone."

- "Is everything ok?"- of course, it wasn't. Frank had never called to meet alone unless we were planning (Y/N)'s a surprise birthday party.

- "Yeah, don't worry. I just need to talk to you..."

- "Well... I'm heading home now."

- "Great, I just got off the plane... I can meet you there in an hour if that's ok with you."

- "Sure, see you there."

I had never been so nervous about talking with Frank before. Not even when we first met, and I freaked out thinking of any excuse to avoid going to (Y/N)'s apartment. The memories of that day filled my mind the whole way back home. That was the first time I had ever gotten drunk in my entire life, and I never told that to anyone. I always felt people thought I was a loser, and I didn't want to give them any more reasons to do it. But neither Mikey nor Frank ever laughed at me, though they were clearly cooler than I was. They would have never been my friends in high school.

Were they going to be my friends if (Y/N) and I stopped talking to each other? Of course not. What was going to happen between us? I had no idea, and the headaches overanalyzing everything produced me were driving me insane.

- "Hey man,"- Frank walked in and tapped on my back the second he showed up at my door.

- "How was your flight? Where were you?"

- "New York, applying for a job, but didn't get it,"- he took off his jacket and left it on a chair, as he had always done, despite the fact the hat rack was right next to the door.

- "I'm sorry, Frank."

- "That's ok. It wasn't for me."

- "I was gonna get something for dinner. Wanna join me?"

- "No, this won't take too long, I just..."

Frank sighed and looked at me, standing in the middle of my apartment. He was a little shorter than I was, so I had to look down at him, but that could never affect the fact he could kick my ass. I always knew that about him and Frank. In fact, I had seen them get into small fights a few times in the years I had met them.

And the way Frank looked at me that minute let me know he was actually considering hitting me.

- "Why are you mad at me?"

- "Don't profile me! I hate when you and (Y/N) start doing your Jedi shit."

- "I'm sorry, but... you are clearly not happy with me so, why don't you just say it?"

- "Ok, fine. What the fuck is wrong with you?"- Frank simply replied and crossed his arms on his chest.

- "What? What are you talking about?"

- "You have a girlfriend."

- "What? How do you... I don't!"- Frank just shook his head and started talking, not giving me a chance to explain I wasn't dating anyone.

- "Maybe this is my fault. Lu and Mikey kept telling me you had to tell her what you felt at your own peace! But four fucking years are enough to make up your fucking mind!! We were all sure you loved her, 'cos you did, right? I mean, as long as I know, you still do! I saw you less than a month ago, and you two were fucking husband a wife, for Christ's sake!!"

Frank was now almost yelling at me, and I still didn't understand a word that came from his lips.

- "Frank, what are you talking about?"

- "She fucking loves you!! And we were all waiting for you to date her!! Maybe even marry her!! But now you fucking ruined everything dating someone else! And she is fucking broken hearted!! You fucking hurt her!"- Frank yelled, his nostrils were flaring, and he even cracked his knuckles.

- "Frank, I don't really follow what you are saying, but I can assure you, I am not dating."

- "She already told me everything! You made her cry!!"

- "Who?"- I was so lost in that conversation I wasn't sure I followed him.

- "(Y/N)!! You broke her heart! And now I'm gonna have to break your bones!!"- the way Frank threatened me sounded funny, but it wasn't, at all, why? 'Cos I knew he meant it.

- "Wait!!"- I took a few steps back and raised my hands in a sign of defeat- "Stop it! I am not dating anyone!"

- "Don't lie to me, man. That will just make shit worst."

- "I am not lying! I'm just confused about all this... why would you say I'm dating."

- "(Y/N) told me yesterday."

I stared at Frank, speechless. My eidetic memory going a hundred miles, trying to find a moment in time that gave (Y/N) the impression I had a girlfriend.

- "But... I am not."

- "Then who is Agent Seaver?"- I froze and widened my eyes as Frank crossed his arms on his chest one more time and didn't move his eyes from mine.

- "Oh shit!!"- the curse was a whisper Frank read as a confirmation.

- "And you thought you could keep it from her?"

- "What? No! I am not dating Seaver! I don't even like her!!"- and for the first time since we started arguing, Frank gave me the chance to talk.

- "And why would (Y/N) say that?"

- "I have no idea!!! She hasn't spoken to me this whole week!! Not since I saw her making out with that random guy last Friday."

- "What?! She did what?!"- I feel like a blabbermouth telling Frank what her friend had done, but in my defense, (Y/N) had given him wrong information, and I had to set the record straight.

- "Can you explain to me what the fuck is going on between you two? 'Cos she didn't mention any of that!"

- "Beer?"

Ever since Frank and Mikey were my friends, I always had beers in my fridge. I didn't drink much, but I liked being ready in case they showed up. And they did, 'cos they were my friends.

I stood next to the fridge in the kitchen and took a sip of my beer. Frank stared at me from the other side of the room and waited for my explanation. So I tried to start from the very beginning.

- "I don't know why (Y/N) thinks I'm dating Ashley Seaver, but I am not. I barely talk to her."

- "Who is she?"

- "A young agent Emily is training in the BAU... she and (Y/N) don't get along from the start 'cos Seaver's dad killed Mrs. (Y/L/N)'s sister back in college."

- "What?!"- Frank was in shock.

- "Yeah, it's been pretty awkward since day one."

- "And what? She tried to apologize, and (Y/N) nearly killed her?"

- "That was day one. Everything went downhill from there. But I don't get why she thinks we are dating. I barely talk to Seaver. I specifically asked our unit chief not to pair me with her at any case or task to make sure (Y/N) wouldn't think I liked her."

- "Clearly, that didn't work,"- Frank pointed out the obvious and grabbed his phone- "We should ask (Y/N) why..."

- "No!! Please don't!! I don't want her to know we are talking about this,"- I almost choked on the beer when I heard him say that and nearly jumped to take the phone from his hand.

- "Why?"- I didn't have a reason. I just didn't want to do anything that might actually make things worse.

- "Because..."- I didn't pronounce another sentence. I literally deflated after just one word.

- "Shit, that's deep,"- Frank joked and sipped his beer- "If you are not dating Seaver, why haven't you told (Y/N) you love her?"

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped in my tracks and simply shrugged. It felt useless to deny it anymore. Apparently, everybody could see it but (Y/N). And if she did see it, then it just meant one thing:

- "Because she doesn't love me back. Now she is the one dating some random guy she met at a party."

- "The one she kissed Friday?"- Frank raised an eyebrow as I just nodded- "She probably did that out of anger is she thought you were dating Seaver."

- "You didn't see her, Frank. She didn't look hurt at all. She actually looked like she was enjoying it."

- "Well... I didn't see her, and you are right about that. But I've seen her for the last... five years or so. She loves you. You should ask her out on a date, finally."

- "Why would she go out with me?"- I asked, embarrassed of facing my feelings so openly in front of Frank. But he just shrugged and said.

- "I just said so, 'cos she loves you."

Now that was just painful to hear, especially 'cos Frank actually meant it.

- "She doesn't."- I whispered and sipped my beer.

- "Sorry, but I wasn't asking you if you thought she loved you. I am telling you, she does. Now, if you don't want to believe it, that's an entirely different story.

The way Frank looked at me, saying everything so lightly, like it wasn't a big deal at all, shocked me. He had always been upfront about pretty much everything since day one. But still, that day, I wasn't prepared for that. I stayed quiet, looking at the floor, not knowing what to say.

- "Shit! You really don't believe she has feelings for you!! Are you blind?!"

- "Frank, she is my best friend in the whole world. I don't want to lose her..."

- "Why would you lose her? Just 'cos you love her?"

- "If she doesn't feel the same... and I tell her how I feel..."- I started mumbling, but Frank snorted, frustrated.

- "She is so fucking in love with you; it's hard not making fun of it!! She way she looks at you, how she is always worried about you!"

- "She does the same for you, guys."

- "I've met that woman since when we were kids, and believe me, she has never treated us the way she treats you. We are still waiting for her to bake us birthday cakes. She bakes yours every year. Last year's cake was sick! She fucking made the whole Tell-tale heart scene on your fucking cake and hid a heart in the middle of it!! You know what she did for my birthday? She wrapped the guitar strings she got me. That was it. If that doesn't tell you how in love she is with you, I've got a fucking list of things she has done for you all these years! So fucking deal with it and tell her what you feel!"

- "I can't! I just can't do that!"- I yelled back at Frank, for once opening up about what I really felt- "Every time I look at her, and she smiles, my whole brain turns to mush! I can't tell her I love her 'cos she will laugh. A girl like her deserves everything a man can give her! Have you seen me? She deserves so much better!!"

I'm not gonna lie. It felt good finally saying what I felt out loud. Like a weight had been lifted from my chest. Frank just walked over and tapped on my back a few times, nodding.

- "She fucking loves you! You should be with her! That's it! Why are you overthinking this?!"

- "'Cos I don't wanna ruin it!"

- "You two have wasted like four years! I told her I wanted you two to date since the day I fucking met you! She had to ditch Paul and date you! But she is so fucking convinced you don't love her, she is..."

- "What?"- my heart stopped at those words- "Did she say so?"

- "She did, in fact, yell to me I had to stop telling her you loved her 'cos she knew it was a lie, and that's why she was in so much pain. When did that happen, you ask? Fucking yesterday, so don't come here and tell me she is dating some random guy she kissed at a party when she is clearly in love with you."

I don't know how to explain what that felt like. It was heartbreaking and, at the same time... encouraging?

- "She loves me?"- I asked Frank, still not fully understanding our conversation.

- "Doc, she fucking went behind your boss's back to stay with you in Las Vegas to help you figure out the case of a kid you thought your dad had killed. She fought Gideon when he told her she was a bad influence for you. She hates Lila Archer's movies because of you. I've seen her yell at the tv!"

- "What?"- that was too much information.

- "Just please, fix this shit and tell her you love her"

- "How?"- I honestly asked 'cos I didn't know how to do that. Frank frowned and finished his beer, leaving the bottle on the counter.

- "I don't know, man. Give her a romantic speech about what a big ass you've been all this time thinking she didn't feel the same, ask her to forgive you, and fucking kiss her!!"

- "Ok... how do I do that?"

- "I don't know, doc! You are the genius here!"

- "Actually, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified... and I have no idea what to do..."

- "Yeah, clearly, this is not your forte. I'll give you that"- I shook my head as Frank stared at me, finally a smile curling on his lips.

- "You know everything she likes. There's no way you can go wrong. Just go to her house and tell her the words she wants to hear: I love you."

I nodded and tried to engrave those simple instructions in my head 'cos I knew I was going to ruin it: go there, say I love you. That was it. It was simple. I could do that. Right?

- "Do you need a ride?"- Frank asked and threw me my jacket.

- "Yes... I think I do."

- "Ok, doc, let's do this!"

(Y/N)'s point of view

I held my cup of tea with both hands and smiled, finally relaxing. That was just what I needed after a long miserable day. I sat on the couch, resting my feet on the table right in front of me, and sighed.

- "Sure, make yourself home."- Lu joked as she walked over with a bowl of popcorn and sat by my side.

- "Hey! I took off my shoes! I know you hate it when I leave footprints on your furniture."

- "How considered!!"- Lu joked as I grinned - "You should definitely come more often then."

- "I promise I will..."

- "And when are you gonna talk to the doc?"- I simply shrugged and focused on the tv in front of me.

- "(Y/N), you do realize you just spent two hours finally coming to your senses, right? I don't care if it's 'cos your boss is pushing you to do it. You have to tell Spencer you love him."

I pouted and groaned, but I knew she was right.

- "First, I have to cancel my date with James."

- "Yeah, do that now."

- "No, I don't wanna face reality today. I'll call him tomorrow around noon. I'm gonna tell him I'm on a case out of town, and I won't be able to make it for dinner."

- "Why don't you just tell him you are not interested 'cos you are in love with your best friend?"- I looked at Lu and widened my eyes- "Oh, come on!! We already passed the initial shock. We all knew you've been in love with Spencer for what seems to be ages!! I knew you loved him since you have him the scarf you knitted."

- "That was ages ago!"- I smiled and sighed- "He still wears it every winter"

- "Of course, he does, 'cos he loves you."

- "Do you really think he does?"

- "Are you serious? That man has been crazy for you since day one! He has been unconditional to you! You two can talk about your nerdy things for hours! Watching you is actually endearing. I had never seen two people just looking at each other with such love before! So please! Just do the right thing and tell him you love him."

I sighed and closed my eyes. I had concluded I had to tell Spencer I loved him because Hotch was right; it was affecting my work. I had to put an end to all that nonsense. Lu kept telling me Spencer would tell me he loved me too, but I was sure he wouldn't. Still, each time she tried to convince me, she made a point.

- "And he took you to Hawaii."

- "He didn't even touch me."

- "So? He hates the beach! The man hates the sun, the sand, and the seawater, and what did he do? He took you for ten days to a resort to the beach 'cos that's what you wanted."

- "His doctor told him the sea breeze was good for his lungs after the whole anthrax incident."

- "Anthrax, my ass! He wanted to make you happy, no matter if that meant being miserable for ten days. If that shit ain't love, then I have no idea what it is!!"

Lu was mad. She had cursed. I looked at her and just nodded.

- "And when you two have your first kid, I wanna be the godmother."

- "Lu, aren't you going a little fast?"

- "No. You two have been too slow with our confessions, so it's time someone speeds this up."

I drove back home around midnight. I was weary, and my body needed a good six hours of sleep after that miserable day. But I knew I wasn't going to get much rest. The idea of telling Spencer how I really felt was too scary, and I wasn't sure I would be able to go through with the plan. I didn't even have a plan. I just knew I had to do it before Hotch took the matter into his hands. Whatever that meant.

It was sad getting to my empty apartment. It felt cold and impersonal. I missed having Spencer around. We hadn't talked in a week, and I had never felt so alone in my entire life. If things didn't go well, I thought I could get a cat. I had always wanted one but never actually decided to take the big step and adopt one. I could go to the shelter and get a kitty.

I poured myself one last cup of tea and walked to my bedroom. Spencer's shirt I had worn as a pajama the night before was still on my bed, and I guessed there was no harm if I wore it again. I got under the covers and wrapped my own arms around my waist. I wondered if there would be a day when Spencer would cuddle me to sleep in our shared bed. Not like friends, like we had done so many times. It was embarrassing to think how many of those nights I had fallen asleep pretending Spencer was my boyfriend.

- "I am in love with you."- I whispered and sighed, closing my eyes.

What would Spencer do if I ever said those terrifying words out loud? I could almost see him freaking out in front of me. He wouldn't know what to do or what to say. If he didn't love me back, he would try to find the most careful way to reject me. He would reassure me he loved me, just not like that. But our friendship would be ruined anyway. I could never see him in the eyes after feeling his rejection. If he didn't love me, I was going to lose my best friend.

Sometimes, I felt Spencer was my soulmate. Lu was right; I had denied my feelings for too long. Had I wasted years of happiness with my honey bunny? Was it too late to tell him how I really felt?

I practiced my speech until two in the morning, rolling in my cold bed, alone, until I finally fell asleep. At seven am, I looked at my reflection in the mirror as I got ready for the day. That Friday was the day I was going to tell Spencer I loved him. I had to look my best. So I put on a lovely dress that always made me feel pretty, though I couldn't find my matching and favorite silk scarf. I did my hair nicely and put on a decent amount of makeup, primarily to hide the big dark rings under my eyes.

I stopped by Spencer's favorite coffee shop on my way to work and got him a cup of coffee and a box of donuts. I took a deep breath as I got out of my car and reminded myself I was doing the right thing. My plan was simple: I was going to give Spencer the coffee and the donuts as an apology for not talking to him in the lastest days. I was going to cancel my date with James, and I was going to ask Spencer out. Maybe like a date, and confess my true feelings for him.

But my plan was ruined before I even reached the main building. I walked through the parking lot and saw Spencer getting out of Ashley's car, holding a cup of coffee. They looked like the lovely young couple they were, after getting breakfast together... after spending the night together...

My broken heart kept breaking as I stared at the scene from a safe distance. I was right. I was too late to fight for Spencer. I had wasted all the chances I had ever had to be with him, and now I couldn't ruin his happiness. If he wanted to be with Ashley, I had to do the right thing and get out of his way.

I hurried up inside the main building and rushed into the elevator. I took deep breaths, trying to hold the tears inside. Whatever happened, I was not going to let Spencer see me cry. I grabbed the box of donuts and the coffee and hesitated when I reached the bullpen. Hotch was already in his office, talking with Rossi. I looked around, knowing Reid was about to get in there with Ashley, and I needed to hide from them.

- "I'm so glad you are here!!"- Penelope turned from her computer, surprised to see me rushing into her office.

- "Hey, munchkin!"

- "How is my favorite tech genius this morning? I got you breakfast!"- I could pretend to be hyper and happy, right?

- "And I love you so much!!"- Penelope smiled and grabbed the coffee- "Smells... delicious!"

- "Only the best for my dearest friend"- she looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Of course!! I had a good night of sleep, and tonight, if no fucking psycho killers ruin my day, I am going to have a date with a hot guy who is so into me. He already sent me an expensive present, which by no means makes me feel pressured, not even a little! No!"

I freaked out immediately, thinking I had a date with a guy I didn't even like.

- "Ok, baby, sit down"- Penelope tapped on the chair next to her and looked at me with worried eyes- "Are you getting cold feet about this date?"

- "I just... I don't know how I feel about that date. I was ready to cancel, and now... I think I just should go."

I definitely wasn't telling Garcia what had happened earlier; how I was going to tell Spencer I love him until I saw him in Ashley's car. Why? Well, first, I didn't want to cry at work. Second, she would say I had to tell Spencer how I felt. And third, she would tell Morgan.

Penelope sipped her coffee and frowned. Still, she didn't say a word. Instead, she looked right into my eyes and whispered.

- "If you don't wanna go out with him, you don't have to."

- "I know. I just wish I wanted to... do you know what I mean?"

- "I do... "- Garcia nodded and sighed- "Munchkin, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, really."

- "Thank you"- I rested my head on her shoulder and just sighed. We both stayed quiet for a moment until my dear friend questioned.

- "Why did you give me Spencer's coffee?"

- "Wh... what?"- I felt so caught I actually stuttered.

- "This is not almond milk. This is filled with dairy, both milk, and cream... and the amount of sugar in this is..."

- "Oh, please!! Can you just pretend I fooled you?!"- I was mortified- "It's fucking eight in the morning, and the day has already turned as awful as it could be."

- "Come on, baby"- Garcia tried to soothe me- "You know life can always get worse, so let's start by being honest. Why didn't you give Spencer the breakfast you got for him?"

- "For not being a profiler, you are creepy good reading people, you know?"

- "Yes, I am a genius. You should have noticed that earlier in life. That wasn't so bright from you, profiler,"- she teased, trying to make me laugh. And I actually chuckled.

- "Good, I got a smile. Now, tell me what happened."

- "But I don't wanna cry at work... and Hotch already called me out for being unprofessional about this whole Spencer's thing."

- "What? When?"

- "Yesterday, he said I have to tell Spencer what I actually feel for him, or he is gonna take matters into his hands."

- "What did he mean by that?"

- "I have no idea! But it sounded serious,"- I sighed, defeated, and sipped my coffee- "So after zero sleeping for days and a very awkward talk with our unit chief, plus the threats from one of my closest friends, I had decided to tell Spencer that I..."

I couldn't even say it

- "What I feel for him, today."

- "Today?! With this breakfast I am eating?"- and of course, PG freaked out.

- "Well, I was going to give him food as an offering for ignoring him this week... then I was going to ask him out tonight, and that's when I wanted to tell him... but..."

I paused and took a deep breath, doing my best not to cry. I really didn't want to show how hurt I was, though I was almost sure my dear friend Garcia could see it clearly in my eyes.

- "Just please, don't tell Morgan."

- "My adorable munchkin, I don't tell everything about you and our resident genius to Derek!"

- "Yeah, but... I just... feel so..."

- "Good morning, Garcia!"- I bit my lips as soon as I heard Ashley's voice storming into my friend's office- "I brought you coffee!"

Penelope held my hand and squeezed it as soon as she noticed my mood shift.

- "Hi!"- and my dear friend was so awkward it could have actually been fun if I wasn't so angry.

- "Oh, hi (Y/N), I didn't know you were here already..."

- "Yeah, we were having breakfast, actually,"- I pointed at our coffees and donuts, and Ashley nodded, blushing.

- "Sorry... I didn't know you were here... I didn't get you any..."

- "No, don't worry, Ashley. It's not like you know you I actually work here too,"- I wasn't even trying to be polite with her anymore. I hated her. Hotch was going to be so mad...

Seaver just stared at us and nodded in silence. Then, she turned around and left, closing the door behind her back. I groaned and nearly hit my head against the desk.

- "Wow, you are not even pretending for the cameras."

- "That was me trying not to kill her, actually. If she walked out on her own, then it was a very successful encounter."

- "What the hell, (Y/N)?"

- "I was gonna tell him, and then I saw him getting out of her car in the parking lot..."

- "Spencer Reid?!"- Penelope freaked out. I just nodded- "Dr. Spencer Reid?? The nerd in love with you? Getting out of her car?"

- "And carrying breakfast, like a lovely young couple. I bet they banged last night."

- "No way!"

- "Why not?!"

- "Because he loves you, and no one calls it "bang" anymore!" Where have you been?"

- "Penelope!"- my friend smiled at me and offered me a donut, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and resting her head against mine.

- "My dearest munchkin. Don't let this stop you. You were on a mission this morning."

- "They banged, fucked, had sex, call it what you want!! I am not telling Reid anything!! And I guess I'm going out with James tonight 'cos... if I don't, I'm gonna die alone, and my cat is gonna eat me!!"

I was nonsensical. I knew it. But there was nothing that could stop me from being absurd. I was scared and hurt. I actually thought I was going to go crazy.

I stayed with Penelope for a while, trying to cool my head. I didn't want to snap with Seaver again. I knew it had been a mistake. I saved Hotch a donut and asked him if I could work in JJ's old office. I told him I wanted to concentrate and that I really needed the time alone. Of course, he could see through my bullshit.

- "I told you, if you don't fix things with Reid, I am going to intervene."

- "I am going to do it, sir. Just... after I get all this paperwork done. I'll talk to him this weekend."- I looked into Hotch's eyes, trying my best to lie correctly. Do you have any idea what lying to the best profiler in the FBI felt like? It was mission impossible.

- "Good, (Y/N). I'm glad to know you've made the right decision."

- "Thank you, sir."

Spencer's point of view

After I got out of Frank's car, holding a bouquet of flowers, I forced him to help me get in our way over. It took me almost half an hour to walk from the sidewalk to the door of (Y/N)'s building.

- "I am in love with you,"- I whispered and shook my head, knowing she deserved better than that simple confession. I took the stairs, trying to improve my speech.

- "I have always been in love with you, from the minute I first saw you,"- I whispered and wiped off the sweat from my hands against the fabric of my jacket. It sounded terrible. I knew I was going to get it all wrong.

- "What am I doing?"- I stopped in my tracks before I reached her floor- I can't do this.

I literally froze and felt sick in my stomach. I couldn't do that. What was I doing? How had I let Frank talk to me into doing something so stupid? What was I getting into? I couldn't do it.

For a minute or so, I stood in the middle of the stairs, not able to move or formulate a single coherent thought. I was trying to

But if I didn't, and she loved me... I was going to lose everything I had ever dreamed of and that I never imagined I could have. No, I had to do it. I had to tell (Y/N) I loved her. And I had to do it that day. "Your head is spinning because it's full of ghosts," I remembered Julio's words and took a deep breath.

I ran the last steps of the stairs and reached her door, panting. But I didn't wait. I knocked on her door and waited.

- (Y/N), it's Spencer. Are you home?- but nothing. So I knocked again.

- Chipmonk, please open the door. I know I've been an asshole this whole week, but I need to talk to you. There is something you should know.

But nothing. Just silence. I knocked a few more times and patiently waited. No answer. I thought about it for a second and took the key she had given me years ago in case of any emergency. I had ended up using that key a million times, not really for many emergencies. I used it to prepare her surprise birthday party many times or come in when she knew I was coming. Or when I stayed over for the weekend, and it was my turn to pick up something from the store. So that day, I used it and opened her door.

Walking into (Y/N)'s apartment felt like walking into her arms. It smelled like her, and it felt like home. I took a look around, calling out her name. But she wasn't there.

Her place was kind of messy. There were many blankets on the couch and some clothes lying around. Man's clothes. For a moment, my heart sank. I thought maybe James was spending time there too. But soon, I realized...It was my clothes. I walked into her room and saw her unmade bed. My old red sweater was on her pillow, and some of the shirts she liked were close as well.

Why was she surrounded by my things? Did she... miss me that much? Could it be Frank was actually right? She loved me and missed me? I looked around and tried to find confirmation, though I felt overwhelmed by emotion at the moment.

(Y/N) loved me. There was a chance she actually loved me the way I did.

I fell on her bed and contained tears that almost started falling down my eyes. There might be a chance she loved me, and I refused to ruin it. She couldn't find me in her house out of the blue. She deserved better than that. She deserves the world. So I quickly collected all my things and walked to the door to think of a better way to confess my undying love. Undying, cheesy, and yet, honest.

But before I was out, I walked back to her room and opened her closet. If she had all my clothes to think of me, I wanted a souvenir too. My eyes traveled quickly through all the items hanging until her purple satin scarf caught my eye. I loved how she looked on it, and it smelled like her. I hid it in my pocket and walked out of her apartment.

Not even the tiny bouquet of flowers I had gotten her seemed to be enough. Frank said she'd love them, but... it just wasn't good enough for her.

I had a lot of planning to do. And I have no idea where to start. I had high standards to beat. After all, I had read all of the romantic books (Y/N) had in her house and seen all the romantic comedies she loved. All of those more than ten times. So... how was I going to do it? Was I going to pour my heart out to her in the most romantic way possible and finish with:

- "I am just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him,"- I said out loud as I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee.

No. That didn't feel right. It had to be better. Who was (Y/N)'s biggest love reference? Mr. Darcy. How had he done it? Well... he didn't do it right the first time, so he started making amends with a letter. I could begin with a letter. After all, I had written (Y/N) many love letters I had never given her in all those years. Letters that contained all my feelings for her as a way of letting it out of my chest. But they were never meant for her to see.

I sat at my desk and grabbed my favorite pen. But before I could actually start writing, I noticed I needed music, romantic music, for inspiration. I picked the same Amy Winehouse vinyl record I had been listening to for the last couple of days and walked back to my seat.

Writing a love letter wasn't easy. Putting facts into words, that's a task I can complete, no questions asked. But that Thursday night, I struggled with every sentence I created. I wasn't a writer and neither a man who had any kind of experience with love or being in love. Less with confessing such feelings. But I had to give my best.

Around one in the morning, I finished the third version of that letter. Frank had texted me to know if things had gone well, but I told him she wasn't home.

- "Don't worry, Paco,"- I said and smiled while holding her silk scarf- "Tomorrow is the day."

My wristwatch said four in the morning when I stopped painting and decided to get into bed. I had to get at least two hours of sleep. Not that (Y/N) had never seen my insomniac face before, but I needed to, at least try, to look presentable for her. After writing, my mind was flooded with emotion, and I couldn't stop thinking about everything we've been through all those years together. (Y/N) and I. we had been best friends for so long, yet, I could now see our friendship had always been a little different. We were closer... sidekicks... lovers without kissing. I needed to feel her hand in mine. Her arms around me. But it was only a few more hours.

Was she going to like me in the morning? I felt butterflies in my stomach just with the idea of confessing my feelings. I set everything ready and went to bed. I barely had the energy to put on my pajamas and turn off the lights. (Y/N)'s scarf wrapped softly on my wrist.

I frowned, baffled and lost, when I opened the door the following morning and found Ashley at the other side.

- "Can I talk to you for a moment?"- she whispered and handed me a fresh cup of coffee- "I brought you a peace offering for being so obnoxious the other day."

It was clear Ashley was honest, and she was embarrassed about her behavior. Otherwise, she wouldn't have shown up at my door. So I smiled and nodded, trying to show her I wasn't mad at her.

- "Water under the bridge"- I whispered and held the coffee she gave me. No milk, no cream, no sugar. Just like (Y/N) liked it. Ashley noticed how I prepared coffee at the BAU but never realized I wasn't making myself a cup. I was making (Y/N)'s.

- "I am very embarrassed... and I really like working with you... regardless of everything I said. I don't..."

- "We can pretend that never happened,"- I interrupted her, and she just smiled and nodded.

- "I would like that. I am sorry I was rude... Do you want a ride to work? We are a little late."

I thought about it for a second. I wanted to stop by and get (Y/N) more flowers, but we were late, and I wasn't planning on telling her how I felt until later that night.

- "Sure, let's go."

(Y/N) was nowhere to be found that day, and that immediately got me on my nerves. Her things were on her desk, but she wasn't there.

- "Hey García, have you seen (Y/N)?"- I walked in and watched her stay still, shocked.

- "Hello there, Dr. Reid. How are you today? Nice to see you too."

- "Sorry!"- I cut her an awkward smile and waved- "Hi! How are you?"

- "The damage is already done, Dr. Reid. Clearly, you are not here looking for my companionship."

- "Sorry, I just haven't seen (Y/N) today. You?"

- "Yes, my pretty chipmunk was here earlier, and that's all I know. Why?"- Garcia raised an eyebrow and looked into my eyes- "Why are you so interested in her?"

I didn't know if it was because I had spent most of the night planning to confess (Y/N) my feelings, but Penelope's question sounded suspicious. I tried to act normal and just frowned.

- "I just wanted to know if she was here 'cos I haven't seen her around."

- "She had work to do, and I think she had a meeting with Hotch."

- "Again?!"- I couldn't help but raise my voice, scared of the idea of (Y/N) being scolded by Hotch for two days in a row.

- "But she had a meeting with him yesterday!"- I argued, but Garcia just shrugged.

- "That's all I know. Also, she brought donuts"- I stared at her dish. Chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. My favorites.

- "Do you know if she... got one of those for me?"

- "I don't know, why don't you ask her?"- Garcia questioned back and raised an eyebrow

- "I would, but I don't know where she is."

- "Besides... didn't you have breakfast already?"

- "There's always room for a donut... for my favorite donut."

Penelope raised an eyebrow, trying to read beyond my words. Was I just talking about donuts, or was I talking about (Y/N)? Did she actually mean breakfast? Of course, she did. Garcia wasn't implying anything else! I was just overthinking everything!

Right?

- "I'll see if she is still with Hotch."

- "Hey, Reid"- Penelope called out my name when I was about to reach the door- "When you see her, you should tell her it's her breakfast you are interested in. No other."

I stared at Garcia and opened my mouth. But no word came from it. I just know I blushed and nodded, leaving her office soon after.

But I didn't find (Y/N) during that whole day. And it was both frustrating and nerve-wracking. The letter I wrote her kept burning me, as I felt it in my jacket's pocket, beating like a second heart. I wasted a whole paperwork day trying to concentrate, but I couldn't. I managed to get the least work done in years, 'cos my mind focused on her. On (Y/N). In her absence.

By the end of the day, I had lost all hope of finding her around and did what all desperate men would do. I waited by her car in the parking lot.

Around six-thirty, I heard her shoes approaching the vehicle, and my heart stopped when I saw her eyes in mind, nearly shocked to find me there.

- "Hi"- that was all I managed to say. My voice was a whisper that even I barely heard.

- "What are you doing here?"

- "I was waiting for you. I thought it was obvious."

I smiled and tried to ease her mood. But it didn't work. She looked so mad at me, though those few words were the longest conversation we had shared in over a week. Why was she mad at me? Was it too cheesy to tell her she looked adorable when she was mad? Of course, it was. I still took a mental note to tell her that later on. Maybe later that same evening if things went well.

- "Why?"- (Y/N) frowned and opened her car, and threw her purse in the back seat.

- "I wanted to talk to you."

- "I can't, Spencer. I am late,"- she called me by my name, and that reality check hurt me.

- "Late for your date with James?"

- "I don't feel like talking about that with you. Goodbye, Spencer."

- "Wait. (Y/N), stop."- I held her arm and felt her whole body shiver under my touch. I would have held her longer, but she pulled her arm from my grip and frowned- "Why are you so mad at me?"

- "Mad? I am not mad!"- I know she was a good liar, but she was so mad her whole body language gave it away, along with her high-pitched voice.

- "I think you are... Why?"- I tried to move closer, but she crossed her arms on her chest and stood next to the opened passenger door. Ready to escape.

- "I am just in a hurry, Spencer. That's it."

There it was, the confirmation of her anger. My name, leaving her lips with fury. I wanted to hold her. I needed to feel her close, with a desperation I had never experienced before. I was craving for her. And there she was, right in front of me, refusing to even look at me.

- "Can you just... give me a chance to talk to you?"- my words came as a whisper, almost as a beg.

- "Isn't someone else waiting for you?"

- "Me? No. No one,"- I answered, confused by what she was implying- "I just need to talk to you. Please."

- "Sorry, I'm late. But... maybe..."- (Y/N) hesitated and looked at someone else walking close to us. I didn't even bother. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

- "Would you... would you take this?"- I held the letter and gave it to her. She hesitated before taking it, and my heart nearly burst at the thought of her holding my love confession in her hands.

- "What's this?"

- "Can you read it?"- but it only lasted for a second. (Y/N) shook her head and gave me back my letter.

- "Not now, I'm late."

- "(Y/N), please."

- "No, Reid. I can't read this now. I am late."

- "Please, (Y/N). I need to tell you something."

- "And I need to leave. So, bye."

(Y/N) slipped through my fingers like water. I stayed still, staring at her as she disappeared, and cursed myself under my breath for being so petrified to act. I wanted to cry. I was so frustrated with myself.

- "I love you. I don't want you to go out with him. You should be with me."

It was liberating to say those words out loud even though she wasn't there to listen.

- "Nice kid. Now next time, say it when she can hear you."

I recognized Morgan's voice behind me. And I guess I could have felt embarrassed if I wasn't so frustrated already. And most of all, so mad at myself. I had practiced. I had tried. I knew what I had to say. But when I was with her, I just couldn't. And now he was out there on her way to date another man.

I felt Derek's hand on my shoulder, tapping on it a few times. I sighed and nodded.

- "Come on. First-round is on me."

It only took Morgan two rounds to get me talking. To be fair, I wanted to speak. He had already heard what I wanted (Y/N) to know.

- "I just wanna tell her I love her. I need to tell her what I feel for her 'cos now I can see there might be a chance she loves me too."

- "Might be a chance?"- Morgan frowned and shook his head- "Kid, that woman is head over feet in love with you. And she has been for years. I just can't believe you've wasted all these years!!"

- "I can't believe I am sitting here with you when she is out there on a date with some other man!!"- I nearly yelled and drank what was left of my third whisky, immediately raising my hand, asking for another round. Derek raised an eyebrow as he stared at me, and somehow it felt like he was mad at me for something.

- "Kid. You know I love you, but you've been so fucking stupid and blind it's been painful for us to watch! You've had so many chances to be with her! She has been crazy in love with you ever since she was dating that other guy!!"

- "Paul? That was ages ago!"- I said ages to sound less obsessive, but I knew exactly how long it had been since they had broken up. It was also the amount of time I had spent without using Dilaudid.

- "Well, she loved you even back there! I bet you are the reason they broke up!"

- "No, I wasn't"- I sighed, thinking I wished I was, but I knew (Y/N) had broken up with him 'cos she didn't love him.

- "Why are you so sure?"

- "She told me"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at me so severely- "What?"

- "Back then, that girl got into trouble for arguing with Lila Archer. Remember?"

- "Eidetic memory, Morgan. Of course, I remember."

- "Sorry, genius"- the waitress arrived with our fourth round, and my body felt way more relaxed by them. Also, my tongue started to slur as I spoke.

- "My pretty pumpkin actually called Lila, and I quote: "annoying, always ignoring our orders, keeping herself in danger, not helping, being a squeamish little princess who is used to do whatever the fuck she wants, and who didn't care to put people around her in danger."- I chuckled remembering that conversation- "And then she joked saying "Of course you were oblivious to all this 'cos you couldn't stop staring at her."

- "Ok, Reid, that's what girls say when they are jealous! And she was clearly jealous of Lila! When she saw you two in that pool? I thought (Y/N) was gonna kill her! I swear I was waiting for her to jump into the pool and end with her!"- Morgan laughed, picturing the scene in his mind. I sipped my whisky, not quite sure he was into something there.

- "I really think she didn't like her 'cos she found her annoying. (Y/N) finds most people annoying."

- "And not you. What does that tell us?"

- "That I am not annoying"- Morgan looked at me and opened his mouth to say something but stayed quiet. And instead, he just chuckled.

- "What about that waitress?"

- "Who?"

- "The one you picked up in the bar with a magic trick?"

- "I didn't pick on her!! I was doing my work and..."

- "And you got her phone number, and she sent you that card with a kiss..."- Morgan stared at me, waiting for a reaction- "Ok, in case you didn't notice, (Y/N) was jealous of her too."

- "She was mad 'cos she said I was unprofessional."

- "Ok, fine, whatever. And now, what's the plan, casanova? When are you telling her you love her?"

- "Now, tonight, after this drink,"- and I hurried to drink it faster.

- "What?"

- "I've got a love letter like Darcy gave to Lizzy."

- "Who the fuck are those?"

- "Her favorite characters from her favorite book"- I explained, annoyed, and drunk- "They were in love but never acted on it 'cos they were both proud and held severe prejudices against each other. So when he told her he loved her, it was a mess. Then, he wrote her a letter trying to explain to her why he had been nonsensical. Then she read it and realized she loved him, but thought it was too late, so both of them acted like nothing was going on until they realized they had been fools, and Darcy confessed his love, and she told him she loved him too..."

There was a blank stare in Morgan's eyes when I was done speaking.

- "How many times have you read that?"

- "Today? Eleven"

The way Morgan wide opened his eyes, shocked, made me think maybe I had overreacted with how many times I read Pride and Prejudice. But he didn't say anything, just nodded.

- "Ok, kid, you can't talk to her today."

- "Why now? I was actually going to drop by her apartment and read the letter."

- "Spencer, you are drunk."

- "I am not!"- I was, in fact, intoxicated.

- "Prove it!"- Derek dared me, chuckling

- "How? Want me to walk on a line and touch my nose with my fingers?"

- "Go talk to those girls over there"- he pointed at a bunch of women who kept flirting with him from a distance at the bar counter.

- "Why would I do that? I am in love! I just told you I am about to confess my true feelings to the one woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I swear, Morgan, if she says she loves me, I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

- "What?!"- my friend nearly choked with his drink.

- "Yeah! I've wasted too much time! I wanna marry that woman! In fact! I'm gonna tell her that right now!"- I stood up too quickly, and the whole room started spinning. Morgan grabbed my arm and forced me to sit down again.

- "Hold on, Reid! You need a round of water before we leave this bar."

- "No, Derek, you don't get it. I finally see everything clear now!! It's all clear!! I've loved her for so long... and maybe Frank is right, maybe she has loved me all along."

- "Dude, that's literally what I've been telling you for the last hour!!"- Morgan nearly yelled, frustrated.

- "Yeah, but Frank has been her best friend since they were four! Can you imagine? Little (Y/N) at four, playing... our kid would be so cute if they are like her."

- "Ok, Reid, you are creeping me out"

- "Why?"- I couldn't understand why Morgan was so shocked. I thought he wanted to know how I felt.

- "For the last five years, you've been in love with her, and you've denied it over and over again. And now suddenly, you get drunk and spill your heart open."

- "I just... I don't want these ghosts haunting me anymore. Julio was right!"

- "You lost me, man"

- "Our last case in Miami. My head was killing me, and Julio knew it. He said it was this job and everything I was bottling up that was driving me insane. Now I can see it clearly! I have to tell (Y/N) how I feel for her! That woman is the love of my life! She saved my life!!"

- "Calm down, Spencer."

- "Calm down?? She is out there with that guy!! What if they kiss again? What if they fuck?! No way! We have to stop her. I have to stop her!!"

I don't know how I got out of that chair and stormed out of the bar.

- "Reid! Wait!"

(Y/N)'s point of view

James was hot. Yes, that's true. I can't deny what's real. I saw him talking at the other side of the table, being charming, being fucking perfect. And there I was, not feeling anything. Nothing. Good old (Y/N) a few years ago would have been crazy for that guy. Before I met Spencer. But after Spencer.... There was nothing after him. And I could see it. I could feel it inside of me. How he had ruined me without even touching me. Does that make any kind of sense?

- "So, what do you do when you are not fighting crime?"- James asked me with the most charming smile. I just sighed and tried to look interested. I honestly wanted to try. But I soon realized everything I could answer included Spencer.

- "I am a big nerd, so I'm getting ready to go to Comicon this year."

- "In costume?!"- he widened his eyes and smiled, excited

- "Yes, of course. In costume is the only way to go to Comicon,"- in costume with Reid...

- "And which is your costume this year?"

- "Slave Leia"- James smiled mischievously and ran his tongue through his lips.

- "I won't miss this Comicon."

- "I also like hanging out with my friends. I usually host dinner parties 'cos I love cooking,"- with Spencer...

- "That's awesome, 'cos I love eating. Are you into board games?"

- "Yeah! Love them! We usually play a lot."

We. Spencer, and I.

I was doomed. I was never going to love anyone else. Spencer was overshadowing everything I might like about James. What did I actually like about James? That he was interested in me. Was Spencer interested in me? Lu said so. Garia said so. Emily said so. But I didn't. Why? Why couldn't I believe Spencer might love me? Was I terrified to lose him as a friend, or was I petrified to lose myself in him? Was I scared to be loved by him? To be happy? To have someone to love me, want me, and make me happy?

Was I scared of being loved by Reid? Of being happy with him? 'Cos each time I thought about it, it didn't feel like Spencer was just a guy I had a crush on or a guy I had fallen for. It felt like he was the love of my life, my happy ending. My forever after. And that scared the shit out of me. I've always been scared I would ruin the love of my life like my parents had destroyed their happiness. I knew the job was going to get in the middle. And I was already in love with my job.

Well... so was Reid.

In fact, we shared that love. We did everything together, including working. And god, I loved being in the field with him. I hated the fear of losing him I often felt whenever we were together, but the thrill of catching an unsub with Reid, of saving lives together. Nothing could ever compare to that. Well, maybe sex with Spencer, but I didn't know it for a fact. I wished I knew...

- "(Y/N)?"- James was looking at me, waiting for an answer. But I never got the questions. I was just lost in the thought of Spencer.

- "Sorry, you were saying?"

- "I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere else... Maybe you could show me your record collection."

Dinner was over. We had our dessert and coffee. A part of me felt I had to say yes, 'cos I felt pushed to like him. But I just couldn't force it. I knew it was meant to turn out badly.

- "Actually, I'm tired... I'm sorry. It was a long week and included a trip to Miami to catch a lunatic..."

- "Of course, not a problem. I'll take you home."

The drive back to my apartment was mostly silent. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't really comfortable either. It was just me feeling Spencer's absence. And it hurt in ways I hadn't realized just yet. It made me wonder if my life without him was destined to be like that.

- "I had a great time tonight,"- I said when James parked outside my building.

- "Me too..."- he turned to me and cut me a big smile, as his eyes locked with mine. I could see him leaning in, and my whole body refused to kiss him. So I opened my door and nearly jumped out of his car.

- "Ok, it's getting late."

- "I'll walk you to your door."

- "No, you don't have to."- but James was already by my side, holding my hand (something I absolutely hated) and walking with me to my building.

- "I have to tell you, (Y/N). I was hoping to meet you at Anderson's party."

Oh shit, I didn't really want to go through that conversation with him. I thought I could just ghost out of that dinner, but James wasn't making things easy. So I opened my building's door, and he followed me in. Shit.

- "I don't know if he told you anything but... I just had the biggest crush on..."

- "James, you don't have to..."

- "But I want to. I just feel like we could go somewhere. I know it's only our first date, but I think you are the most incredible woman I've ever met. And I would be ecstatic if you would want to go out with me again."

I sighed and turned to him. We were standing by my door, and I could feel he wanted to kiss me goodnight.

- "James. I feel flattered, but... I can't do this."

- "What? Why?"

- "Because I am in love with someone else... I've been in love for a while now, but I never thought I might have to actually act on it until now..."

James stared into my eyes, confused, hurt, and... sad. I nodded and did the kindest thing I could under the circumstances and hugged him.

- "I am sorry. You are a fantastic guy, and I'm sure if I wasn't in love already, this would have worked, but..."

- "It's ok, (Y/N). Really. You don't have to apologize. I was just one date, no harm done."- my date kissed my cheek and smiled- "Besides, I got to meet my favorite profiler."

- "Prentiss?"- I joked, and he chuckled.

- "And what are you gonna do about this mystery guy?"

- "I don't know. I don't think he feels the same... but I think I have to tell him, or I'll go crazy."

- "He would be crazy if he rejects you,"- James whispered and smiled- "Good night, crime fighter."

I closed the door behind my back and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I felt bad for James. But I couldn't take care of his feelings when I had been neglecting mine for so long.

What was I supposed to do? I was so tired of overthinking everything. Of being afraid. I put the kettle on to make myself a cup of tea and laid on my couch for a minute. It smelled like Spencer. There was one of his sweaters there. I quickly grabbed it and buried my face in it, pretending it was his neck, and I could even land butterfly kisses on his skin.

I couldn't run from it anymore. I was going to tell Spencer Walter Reid what I felt for him. And I was going to do it the following day. How? With my original plan: I was going to bring his favorite breakfast to his house. I was going to apologize for being a jerk, and I was going to invite him over for dinner. I was going to cook his favorite. Then I was slowly and carefully going to handpick the right words to tell him I am desperately in love with him.

That sounded like a good plan. My phone rang, forcing me to roll on that couch, but I carried Spencer's sweater with me. It was Penelope.

- "Please don't tell me we've got a case."

- "No, munchkin. I just wanted to check on you. What happened to James?"

- "I blew him off- I stood up and walked to the kitchen to make my cup of tea- "It was kind of painful."

- "I'm glad you did anyway. You have to do the right thing."

- "Yeah, I guess,"- I closed the widow 'cos there was a lot of yelling coming from the street.

- "Where are you?- Penelope asked, probably hearing it too.

- "At home, getting ready for bed."

- "What's that noise?"

- "I don't know. I think there's a fight downstairs. Anyway, tomorrow I'm gonna talk with Spencer and tell him everything."

- "Please let me know how that goes!!"- I chuckled as I heard the genuine excitement in her voice.

- "I promise I will. Thank you for checking on me."

- "Anytime, munchkin. Sleep tight."

Spencer's point of view

- "Oh shit! Oh shit!"

I saw (Y/N) getting out of James's car, and Derek had to hold me on my seat to stop me from running over. We were parked outside of her building, and Morgan was still trying to convince me to go home. I told him I would behave and peacefully go home if I saw (Y/N) reaching her home safe and sound... without James.

But no. He was there. I could see him walking with her, hand in hand, to her building.

- "Maybe he is just going to take her to her door,"- Morgan said, trying to calm me down. I clenched my fist and waited in silence for a few seconds. But James didn't leave her at her door. He followed her inside. And that was when I lost it and literally jumped off the car.

- "Reid!! No!! Wait!!"- Derek ran behind me and grabbed my arm. A car passed and honked at us, 'cos it almost ran me over. I wanted to yell, "Fuck you!" but I barely noticed it. My eyes were locked at that building's door.

- "Dude! Come on, get back in the car!"- Derek tried to calm me down.

- "No!"- I argued and kept pulling my arm, trying to get free of his hands. But he wasn't letting me go.

- "You are drunk! You are not thinking straight! Come on!!"

- "No! Let me go! I need to talk to her!

- "What you wanna tell her, you should confess sober, with flowers... and chocolates, or whatever she likes."

- "I can't wait anymore!! I can't wait until it's perfect!! He is going to kiss her again and... and I can't deal with that!!"- I managed to get loose of Derek's hand and ran to (Y/N)'s building the second James walked out of it.

My blood boiled as soon as I saw him, and my first instinct was to punch him, But I managed to suppress it. Instead, I just looked at him threateningly. Or at least that's what I tried to do.

- "What's your problem, dude?"- James frowned as he noticed me staring.

- "You are my problem, dude,"- I answered with a snarky tone as that asshole took a step closer and shook his head.

- "What the fuck?!"

- "Stay the fuck away from (Y/N), James,"- I said, and he widened his eyes, surprised I knew him.

- "Who the hell are you?!"

- "I am the love of her life, and you are in the way of our forever after."

- "Kid, come on"- Derek tried to pull me away, but he was just embarrassing me.

- "Yes, kid. Go with your buddy. Leave (Y/N) to me."

James chuckled and turned around. And I don't know what took over me, but I couldn't control it. I ran to him and pulled his shoulder. I felt the pain of my fist hitting his face, but I didn't care if my knuckles were on fire. All I could feel was the profound pleasure of finally breaking that guy's nose with my own hands.

- "What the fuck?!"- Derek was in shock, and honestly, so was I. I didn't know I had that in me. I had never gotten in a fight that wasn't with an unsub. And still, on the field, I always tried to talk my way out of every conflict.

- "He has to back off! He is getting in the middle of my relationship with my pumpkin!!"- I argued and looked at my hand, knowing it would be sore in the morning. That was when James's fist collided against my jaw, and I felt how my whole body nearly spun like a cartoon with the strength of the blow.

- "Hey! Hey! Stop!"- Derek pulled James away from me as I touched my face, trying to put two and two together.

- "Tell your friend to stay away from me, or I'm gonna break his face!!"

- "You and which army?!"- I yelled and tried to punch him again, but Morgan stayed between us, trying to keep us apart.

- "Ok, ok, calm down, we are leaving! Reid! Come on!!"

- "No!! I am not leaving until I am sure that he is going to stay away from her!!"

- "Stay away from (Y/N)? Deal! Now get the fuck away from me!"- James shoved me on his way to his car, and I nearly hit him again. But Derek stopped me. He grabbed my arms and pushed me to his car.

- "Enough! I'll take you home."

***

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Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

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Next update: July 7th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #matthew gray gubler #Criminal Minds #Spencer Reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt #spencer reid angst #babymetaldoll writes #diwk #Penelope Garcia #Ashley Seaver #Emily Prentiss #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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