#emily prentiss x young daughter reader

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Emily Prentiss x daughter reader

Request from Ao3

Request: Hi! Can you please do a one-shot with Emily Prentiss x daughter reader where y/n gets into trouble at school for the first time (maybe she'd been bullied and finally just hit the bully out of reaction? Whatever is fine) and Emily had mixed feelings on how to deal with it? Thanks! (y/n is 11 btw) just angst with a fluffy ending?

Summary: Emily prentiss' daughter gets into her first fight at school wuth a bully, Emily gets called in and doesn't know how she should punish her daughter so when she gets to work she askes JJ and Hotch as they are also parents, Her daughter is 11

Third perosn pov...

It was supposed to be a normal day for Y/N Prentiss but of course for the 11 year old her school day was about to become worse.

It all started at morning break, Y/N was swinging on the swings when she was shoved off from behind, angry thrbgirl stands up and turns around.

When she did she saw Lucy one of the many girls who had for some reason decided at the start of the year that Y/N was her punching bag.

But this time Y/N had enough, she hated lying to her Mum about all the bruises she gets when she gets home from school.

Y/N crosses her arms and glares at the girl  "What now Lucy?" She asks, this surprises the other girl as she had never been spoken back to before by anyone.

The little brat of a child glares back at her usual punching bag "Oh what's this the punching bag can talk, what a surprise" she says mockingly

Y/Ns knuckles turns white, she was trying and failing to hold herself back from punching Lucy, she had training from her Uncle Derek just incase an unsub kidnapped her or for instances jsut like this.

Y/N stands her ground and stares back at Lucy, hoping her face would betray how scared she actually felt standing up for herself and everyone who was a victim to bullying.

"I'm not at stupid as you Lucy, at least I actually work hard and don't have my many many servants to do my work for me" talks back Y/N

This made Lucy even more pissed off, the cocky girl crossed her arms as pissed off look on her face. "Well at least I have a dad who loves me-" the 11 year old barely finished her taunt before she was tackled by Y/N.

The girls eyes were filled with anger as every punch and kick hits it mark, Lucy's screams were heard throughout the playground s she was attacked by Y/N. "You forget princess, I've been trained by FBI agents" Says Y/N with every punch not stopped her attack on the bully.

As Lucy's screams increased the group of cheering students didn't notice the teachers coming their way and breaking up the fight, Y/N was grabbed from behind and pulled away from Lucy.

Said girl was on the ground still covering her face with her arms as the attack stopped, Y/N struggled in the arms that grabbed her, suddenly the sound of the principal stopped her struggling

"Detention both of you and I'm calling both of your parents" he exclaimed as Y/N was walked to the nurses office to get her cuts looked at.

As least she wasn't as hurt as Lucy was, the little girl had cits and bruises all over her face, she also had a broken nose which Y/N was proud of.

All though Lucy did get some good punches in Y/N had a black eye and a spilt lip and was also covered in cuts and bruises, it took a while until both girls were covered up and sent to the Pricipalz office.

With Emily...

Emily Prentiss was nervous as she pulled up to her daughter's school. She had received a call from the principal informing her that her daughter was involved in a fight and the principal wanted Emily to come in to discuss it. Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

As Emily entered the principal's office, she saw her daughter slumped in a chair, head down, not daring to meet her mother's eye.

The principal began by explaining what had happened. It seemed her daughter was being bullied by another girl and had finally had enough. She had gotten into a physical altercation with the bully.

Emily silently took it all in, a storm of emotions raging inside her. Part of her wanted to hug her daughter and tell her that she understood. But part of her was also angry, worried and scared. How should she punish her daughter?

When she returned to work, she approached JJ and Hotch, both of whom were also parents. She asked them what they would do in her situation.

JJ gave her a sympathetic look before launching into a long and winding tale about how her own daughter had once been involved in a fight.

She then explained how she'd more or less let it slide, acknowledging that her daughter had been in a tough spot and did what she felt she needed to do to stand up for herself.

At the end of JJ's story, Hotch added his own point of view. He said that while violence wasn't the answer, he agreed with JJ that in this situation there was nothing to be gained from punishing her daughter too harshly.

He suggested instead that she have a calm and rational discussion with her daughter about her actions and make sure she understood why violence was never the right course of action.

Emily nodded in agreement with what they said. She thanked them both for their help and headed home, ready to have a heart-to-heart conversation with her daughter.

Even though the situation had been difficult, she was glad that she had the support of her colleagues, both of whom had offered her sound advice as a parent.

The end!

I hope you liked this oneshot for Emily I love writing for her, any way as always so sorry for the grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1055

[januaryembrs]

TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.

word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)

trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.

authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!

series masterlist | next chapter

[this] means its spoken in another language.

—

‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,

I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’

1. the one where you become a translator.

“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa. 

A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached. 

It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up. 

“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,” 

“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,” 

Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different. 

Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug. 

Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup. 

“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.

Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct. 

“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown. 

“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”

Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought. 

“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up. 

Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.

“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?” 

“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap. 

“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.

Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.

“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned. 

Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister. 

“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.

Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered. 

“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,” 

Spencer gulped quietly. 

Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”

–

Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan. 

Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze. 

She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman. 

“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it. 

It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors. 

She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs. 

“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.

“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,” 

He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.

“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?” 

“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,” 

She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”

She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them. 

“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”

“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”

“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter. 

“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.” 

She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student. 

“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again. 

“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”

Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words. 

How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?

–

“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently. 

She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore. 

“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly. 

“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse. 

“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish. 

“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod. 

“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket. 

Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours. 

“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,” 

“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more. 

“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet. 

“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt. 

“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick. 

“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her. 

“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,” 

“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway. 

“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.

Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny. 

In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them. 

“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face. 

Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder. 

“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips. 

“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them. 

“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed. 

“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol. 

“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown. 

“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze. 

“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her. 

He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her. 

“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly. 

“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”

A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in. 

“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command. 

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,” 

“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!” 

“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?” 

“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand. 

“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.

A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be. 

“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,” 

“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep. 

“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue. 

Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent. 

“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”

Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],” 

The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses. 

“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun. 

“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],” 

“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],” 

Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car. 

“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”

“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,” 

With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips. 

“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside. 

“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,” 

“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand. 

“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,” 

She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened. 

–

The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer. 

Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera. 

She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture. 

There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good. 

But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately. 

“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language. 

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully. 

She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.

“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair. 

“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?” 

She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,” 

It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them. 

“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them. 

“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls. 

“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place. 

“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door. 

She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face. 

It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice. 

Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon. 

“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”

Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers. 

“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?” 

“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.

She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant. 

-

“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod. 

“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,” 

“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.

“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front. 

And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost. 

“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,” 

“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk. 

“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?” 

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”  

His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh. 

“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully. 

“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did. 

Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over. 

“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile. 

“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice. 

“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat. 

She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.

“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen. 

“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”

“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,” 

“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,” 

She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs. 

“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile. 

“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,” 

“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,” 

“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face. 

“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat. 

She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding. 

It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else. 

So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from. 

There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing. 

“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin. 

“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,” 

“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,” 

But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation. 

So why lie?

She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately. 

“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster. 

“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction. 

“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,” 

The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head. 

“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly. 

Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do. 

And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight. 

–

The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself. 

“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk. 

“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her. 

“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes. 

“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.

“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.” 

“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too. 

“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place. 

“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”

“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke. 

He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that. 

“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-” 

“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant. 

“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at. 

“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,” 

The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”

“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.

“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed. 

“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,” 

Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation. 

Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”

She frowned at him, scoffing,  “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”

The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”

She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her. 

“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?” 

Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,” 

But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly. 

“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her. 

“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-” 

“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,” 

Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself. 

He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.

-

“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”

“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.

“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.

“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left. 

“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”

“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”

“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes. 

“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”

“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back. 

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer. 

“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”

It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house. 

-

Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes. 

“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window. 

“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”

“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”

She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”

“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-” 

“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”

“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her. 

Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”

Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,” 

Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her. 

Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all. 

Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.

He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number. 

“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.

“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.

“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”

“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,” 

“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.

+1. The one where you get arrested.

The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him. 

His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so. 

Yet so was Emily. 

The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway. 

“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.

“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?” 

She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times. 

“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,” 

The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown. 

Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad. 

“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea. 

The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat. 

“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”

“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,” 

The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront. 

“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose. 

“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb. 

“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch. 

“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”

“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear. 

“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. 

“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.

She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh. 

She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.

Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”

-

“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan. 

“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder. 

The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.

“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.

Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her. 

“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury. 

She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke. 

“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them. 

“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,” 

“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible. 

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out. 

“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”

Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan. 

“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” 

If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze. 

“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,” 

Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans. 

“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never. 

He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far. 

“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,” 

She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl. 

“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,” 

The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”

“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.

Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road. 

“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,” 

JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line. 

“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms. 

Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them. 

“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,” 

Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet. 

“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,” 

JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later. 

“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,” 

“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.

“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.

“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more. 

“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,” 

Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”

The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on. 

“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought. 

“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,” 

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off. 

“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault. 

“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”

“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”

Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block. 

“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs. 

“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,” 

He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.

He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas. 

Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried. 

Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth. 

“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back. 

+2. The one where you graduate

Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life. 

With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk. 

“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”

Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face. 

“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table. 

Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.

JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again. 

Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up. 

It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough. 

“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”

“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”

“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”

“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.

Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”

As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.

The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”

Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-” 

“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”

“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words. 

Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”

Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast. 

“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”

Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing. 

“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming. 

“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”

The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered. 

“Bug-”

“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation. 

“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,” 

“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”

Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”

“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”

“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down. 

The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you. 

“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,” 

JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-” 

“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”

“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”

-

“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-” 

The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. 

The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled? 

Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her. 

But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother. 

All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery. 

“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.” 

P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it. 

She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close. 

“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”

She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab. 

Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika. 

She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps. 

To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was. 

Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her. 

Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them. 

And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat. 

The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand. 

And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs. 

Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close. 

“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer. 

“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team. 

“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,” 

She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand. 

“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”

She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.

“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”

“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”

“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer. 

Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy. 

“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”

Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling. 

“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.

“Don’t even,” 

+3. The one where you’re taken hostage

“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss. 

Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready. 

“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound. 

“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?” 

“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,” 

Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy. 

“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup. 

Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”

“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path. 

A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on. 

The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first. 

She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye. 

“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”

She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?” 

Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing. 

“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,” 

“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track. 

“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses. 

“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm. 

“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.

“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.

“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand. 

“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”

He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,” 

He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers. 

Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head. 

“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long. 

Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant. 

“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.

“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,” 

“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound. 

“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”

Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing. 

He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there. 

It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back. 

-

Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before. 

She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery. 

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye. 

She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.

 Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it. 

“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off. 

That was when the shooting started. 

She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening. 

Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye. 

“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”

“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”

“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church. 

They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised. 

Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen. 

She could only hope Emily was safe. 

She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister. 

Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.

Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person. 

Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall. 

“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.” 

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine. 

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting. 

“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed. 

“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,” 

And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away. 

–

They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax. 

She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze. 

“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes. 

“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered. 

“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”

Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said. 

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push. 

“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,” 

“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,” 

Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”

And so they did. 

–

Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals. 

She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving. 

“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,” 

“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again. 

The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,” 

Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,” 

She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”

He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,” 

She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly. 

“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”

She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude. 

“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”

Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”

She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious. 

Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness. 

“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them. 

“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.

If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou. 

“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her. 

 “The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”

She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick. 

Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage. 

–

The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive. 

The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice. 

They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms. 

This was not good. 

“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression. 

The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear. 

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach. 

She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy. 

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily. 

But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won. 

Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple. 

“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight. 

“It’s me,” 

She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving. 

Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.

“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head. 

He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise. 

He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture. 

“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull. 

She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them. 

It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was. 

–

She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least. 

She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her. 

Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds. 

She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating. 

But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”

Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl. 

“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”

“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.

“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,” 

She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,” 

“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed. 

Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action. 

–

Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over. 

Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?

She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless. 

It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now. 

It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority. 

2:53 stared back at her. 

At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened. 

2:54.

She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle. 

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor. 

“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them. 

She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical. 

Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost. 

Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth. 

She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free. 

He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet. 

“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”

Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine. 

She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.

And she saw why. 

Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight. 

Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps. 

Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle. 

Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more. 

“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her. 

“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her. 

Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared,  still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs. 

He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly. 

“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his. 

She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved. 

“You saved mine,” 

And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay. 

Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.

“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”

She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying. 

“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”

“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”

Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes. 

She stayed with Emily for a month after that. 

+4. The one where you leave the altar. 

She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building. 

Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors. 

Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse. 

Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran. 

Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state. 

“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”

“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”

“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”

She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight. 

“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”

She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street. 

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius. 

She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister. 

“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-” 

“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”

Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug. 

“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner. 

“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body. 

“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.

“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric. 

“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!” 

He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave. 

“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”

“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days. 

“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,” 

“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog. 

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”

Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back. 

“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll. 

“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”

“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,” 

She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat. 

“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”

“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.

“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more. 

“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-” 

“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.

“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings. 

“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”

“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?” 

“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,” 

“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,” 

“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”

“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess. 

“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders. 

“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,” 

His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off. 

“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist. 

Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess. 

Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,” 

Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be. 

“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through. 

–

let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??

Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺

SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!

THIRD EDIT: we are now balls deep into this universe here's th link for the masterlist

[oneshotnewbie]

hi! how are you? i hope everything’s well and i was wondering if you’d be so kind to write an angsty emily prentiss x young teen daughter reader story when you are able?

basically reader feels that Emily isn’t giving her enough freedom, especially with her friends who want to do typical teenagery things (Emily’s a bit more protective because of her job and past and knows what kind of things could happen) and they get into an argument of sorts and reader refuses to listen to emily trying to explain and reason with her? thanks!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Authors note: Maybe I exaggerated Emily a little bit but since I had her whole past in mind, I thought it was appropriate.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sun slowly sank over the horizon, turning day into night and making the shadows appear longer and deeper. In a well-kept suburb of Washington D.C., you sat on your bed and stared out the window, your head full of thoughts. The gentle breeze that blew through the open window brought no relief to the feeling of tightness that you felt in your heart.

"Y/n, can you please come down? Dinner is ready!" Emily's voice penetrated the half-open door. It was a friendly but also authoritative voice that often felt like a net that wrapped around you and held you tight.

"Coming soon, Mom!" you called back, even though you didn't feel ready to face your mother yet. You sighed and took one last look at your cell phone, where messages from your friends were flashing.

Maya: "Hey, are you coming over later, y/n? My parents are gone and we have the house to ourselves!"

Chloe: "Yeah, it'll be so cool! We have chips, popcorn and a few movies."

You bit your lip. You wanted nothing more than to spend a carefree night with your friends, but you knew your mother would never allow that. Emily Prentiss was not only a mother, but also a seasoned FBI agent who had seen the dark side of humanity up close. These experiences had made her overprotective, especially when it came to her only daughter. You.

Reluctantly, you got up and went into the kitchen. The smell of spaghetti and garlic bread filled the air, and Emily was already putting the plates on the table. She smiled when she saw you, but there was familiar concern in her eyes.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she asked as she took the parmesan out of the fridge and transferred it to a small bowl. "Yeah, it's fine," you mumbled and sat down at the table. "Can I go to Maya and Chloe's after dinner? They want to have a movie night."

Emily froze for a moment before moving again and putting the cheese on the table. "A movie night, huh? Have you looked at the clock?"

You sighed inwardly. You knew the beginning of this conversation all too well. "Yes, mom," you said, clenching your hands into fists. "Then the answer is no," Emily said calmly but firmly. "You know I don't want you to be out this late. Even if I drove you."

"But mom, I'm not a little kid anymore! I'm 16 years old! Maya and Chloe are my best friends, we just want to watch a few movies!" your voice got louder, frustration and anger rising inside you.

"Y/n, I understand that you want to have fun, but I'm worried about your safety. You don't know who's hanging around the neighborhood, and I can't watch over you all the time."

"Exactly, you can't watch over me all the time! That's the problem!" you screamed, jumping up, tears of frustration burning in your eyes. "You just don't trust me!"

She looked at you, her own eyes full of pain and conflict. "My darling, it's not about trust. It's about me knowing what can happen out there. I just want to protect you."

"Sometimes you suffocate me with that," you said quietly, leaving the kitchen before the tears ran all the way down your cheeks.

Upstairs in your room, you threw yourself on the bed and grabbed your phone. Your fingers flew over the keys as you wrote a message to your friends: "Sorry, girls. My mom won't let me go. Maybe another time."

You put your phone on silent, threw the phone aside and stared at the ceiling. Your heart was heavy, not only because of the missed opportunity, but also because of the constant fights with your mother. You knew she loved you and only wanted the best for you, but it often felt like your life was limited by invisible shackles that pulled you tighter the older you got.

As you lay there, you heard soft footsteps approaching your bedroom door. Emily stood in the doorway, her head poking through the hinge, unsure whether she should enter. "Can I please come in?"

You turned to the side and nodded reluctantly. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you. "I know it's not easy being my daughter, especially with my job and my past. But I hope you understand that I'm just trying to protect you."

You swallowed and looked at your mother. "I understand that, Mom. But I also need a little freedom. I need to learn to take care of myself and you need to give me the chance to do that."

Your mother nodded slowly, wondering when you'd grown up so much and smiled weakly. "How about we find a compromise? I'll call Maya's parents and if they confirm that everything is OK, you can leave for a few hours."

Your eyes widened in surprise and joy. "Really? You would do that for me?"

"Yes," she said, putting a hand on your shoulder. "But under two conditions: You have to promise me to call JJ, Rossi or me immediately if anything is wrong and you have to have dinner with me first."

You nodded eagerly and reached over to your phone, ready to text your friends that you would come after all. "I promise, Mom. Thanks."

As Emily pulled out her phone, started dialing the number and retreated briefly from your room, you leaned back and felt a small piece of the burden fall from your shoulders. It was a small step, but it was a start.

Minutes felt like hours as you sat in your room, impatiently waiting for Emily to call your girlfriend's parents. Your mind was racing, and the hope of finally taking a step towards more freedom filled you with a small hint of optimism. But when you heard her come back, you immediately recognized the look in your mother's eyes.

"Y/n, I spoke to Maya's parents," she began slowly as she opened the door and stepped back into the room. "And?" you asked, your voice tense with anticipation.

"Her parents aren't home and don't mind you being alone. Did you know you would be alone? Because if so I..."

"No, Mom. Don't end that sentence!" You jumped up from the bed, fists clenched again. "You're going to forbid it again, aren't you? That's why I didn't say anything!"

Emily sighed deeply, wiping her furrowed brow with a hand. "I don't think it's safe for you to be in an empty house. I'm worried about you."

"What are you worried about? That I might have fun? That I might act like a normal teenager?" Your voice was shaking with anger, as was your body, and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. "You're suffocating me with your constant control!"

"Sweetie, please try to understand," she began, but you immediately interrupted her. "No, Mom, you don't understand! You don't understand what it's like to be constantly monitored and patronized!“

Emily's patience began to dwindle the longer you took your frustration out on her. "That's enough. I've seen things you can't even imagine. I've seen people who got into serious danger from harmless situations. I can't let anything happen to you."

"Oh, come on, mom! You and your stories from work. Do you think I want to hear all the time how terrible the world is? I just want a little fun!"

The black-haired girl swallowed hard and fought to stay calm and matter-of-fact with you. "Y/n, I'm not telling you these things to annoy you. I want you to understand why I am like this. Why I have to protect you."

You snorted contemptuously. "Protect? Is that what you call it? It feels like imprisonment to me. I feel like you don't trust me to take care of myself at all."

"I'm happy to tell you one last time. It's not about not trusting you," she said, her voice now raised, bordering on screaming. "It's about knowing how quickly things can go wrong. One moment of carelessness and everything can change."

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and glared darkly at your mother. "You use your job as an excuse to control my life. You have no idea what it's like to be under your thumb all the time."

"And you have no idea what it's like to go to work every day knowing that there are monsters out there waiting to hurt or even kill innocent young people." Emily's eyes filled with tears that slowly made their way down her cheeks. "I've seen too many girls your age, y/n. I can't take the risk of you becoming one of them. I would never forgive myself."

You shook your head violently, tears of anger and frustration also running freely down your cheeks. "I don't want to be a victim, but I don't want to be a prisoner either! You have to learn to let me go! Should I sit here twiddling my thumbs until I'm 53?"

Emily stood still for a moment, trying to control her own tears. "Y/n, I love you more than anything else in this world. Everything I do, I do to protect you, damn it!"

"Sometimes I love you for that," you said quietly, "but often I hate you for that." With those words, you stormed out of your room, slamming the door behind you. Your mother was left alone, her hand pressed to her mouth to stifle sobs. She knew she couldn't protect you forever, but the thought of seeing you in danger was more than she could bear.

Meanwhile, in the living room, you grabbed your jacket and stormed to the front door. You needed fresh air, distance, anything to escape your mother's suffocating grip on surveillance. Without waiting to see if Emily ran after you, the door slammed shut and your mother sank onto your bed. She knew she had made a mistake, but she also knew she couldn't do anything else. The world was a dangerous place, and she could only hope that one day you would understand why she was the way she was.

[creativesaturn]

i found your acc recently and i love your fics!! could you possibly do a fluffy emily x fem!reader who works at the bau and they come home from a long case and they both just wind down with their kid? tyy!

Summary: Nothing can compare to the safety of your own home, and the comfort of your wife and child.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Warnings: None!

Word count: 254

a/n: kinda short but I hope this is okay!

You and Emily entered the house one after the other. As soon as the door shut behind you, you could hear the soft footsteps of your daughter running towards you.

"Mommy!" She yelled.

Behind the little girl, was the nanny, following her with a guilty expression.

"I am so sorry, she would not go to sleep." She apologized, watching as you picked her up with a wide smile.

"It's okay, I know she can be stubborn." You responded, your voice soft from the long day as you cooed your daughter.

"Okay. Well, have a nice night." The nanny smiled, grabbing her coat and walking out the door.

"You must be tired, huh?" Emily smiled, kissing the small child's face.

"Nuh uh.." The young girl shook her head, clearly fighting it off.

You smiled at her response, setting her down on her feet to watch her race after Emily that was walking towards the bedroom.

You removed your coat and shoes before emptying your pockets on the table the hallway provided, walking towards the bedroom to change.

As soon as you entered you spotted Emily and your daughter curled up next to each other in the middle of the bed. You smiled at the sight, deciding changing can wait.

You crawled into the bed, spooning Emily from behind.

The feeling of being safe and protected washing over you like an ocean wave. And just the thought of nothing being able to compare to this, made you smile in the comfort of the tight embrace you had on Emily.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[freckles-things]

Signs of the Past

Summary: A new case at a high school, a young girl with an uncanny resemblance to one Aaron Hotchner and a revelation that shakes up both of their lives.

Requested by: @duruxoxo (I hope it’s what you had in mind. I’m sorry that it took me so long!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader; BAU Team x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Jack and Hailey don’t exist in this one, case typical violence, mention of death/killing

----

Agent Aaron Hotchner, the stoic leader of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, sat at his desk, pouring over case files. The team was investigating a series of disturbing incidents revolving around the disappearance of high school students as well as staff. Reports indicated that women and girls who worked at or went to the same school were targeted, and the disappearance of the third girl had finally triggered their involvement. So, the team had gathered around the conference room, exchanging theories and discussing possible suspects and motives. JJ was currently pinning the pictures of the three missing girls and women to the whiteboard, while Spencer wrote some of the keywords they’d gathered for each underneath them. Rossi was looking at the folder containing information about possible suspects while Prentiss went through a list of former and current teaching staff. Derek was going through the list and pictures of the entire student body, trying to suss out if one of them could be responsible and who could possibly be the next victim.

„Hey Bossman, found a picture of your mini-me. You sure that you don’t have a kid? The resemblance is kinda uncanny, she’s got the Hotchner-Stare“, he suddenly spoke up, gaze fixed on one of the pictures of a young girl.

Hotch furrowed his brow at the ridiculous statement but accepted the picture, obviously taken from a yearbook, nonetheless. The rest of the team curiously gathered around him to catch a glimpse. He had to admit that the girl had a certain familiarity about her. He couldn’t quite place it, but he could see what Derek meant. If he didn’t know better, if he were a stranger looking at the picture, he might have come to the same conclusion. As it was, he pushed the photo back towards Morgan with a slight shake of his head.

„Concentrate. We want to get the UNSUB before there’s a fourth victim.“

Derek just shrugged and continued his search through the list while the rest of the team went back to their respective tasks as well.

„He’s right though, the resemblance is uncanny“, Rossi commented absentmindedly. Hotch just cleared his throat and pointedly looked at the folder laying in front of Dave.

In the end, the search through the mountain of documents didn’t bring any new knowledge, nor did it give them a lead. There was just one single thing that stood out to them, and that was the school itself as the connection between all of the victims. With nothing else to investigate, the team decided to make their way to the school to gather information first hand and to speak to the students and the staff.

It was a slow process. The number of kids they had to talk with was ridiculously high, and the teaching staff wasn’t very forthcoming either. The team had only gotten two unused classrooms for the interviews, so the pace they were going at was infuriatingly slow to all of them. They all knew how crucial the timing was, that a single hour could make a difference between life and death. Quite literally, in this case. Hotch could see the frustration on his teams face as the teaching staff didn’t give them the required information under the pretence of data security. He could see how Derek physically restrained himself from yelling, how Emily was close to losing her patience or how Spencer’s gaze flickered to the clock above the door every other minute, the nervous tapping against his leg getting more pronounced as time went on.

"We're done with interviews," Hotch announced suddenly to the startled looks of his team as well as the deputy headmistress they were currently in the middle of questioning.

"This obviously leads us nowhere. The staff won't cooperate, the number of students is simply too high. We're wasting time. Time the victims don't have."

He could see Rossi nodding approvingly and hear JJ's relieved sigh.

"We're going to divide ourselves. Emily and Derek, JJ and Rossi. Reid, you're with me. We're going to attend classes. Go in, spend a few minutes in the back of the room, and see if you can spot anything suspicious or noteworthy. If someone catches your eye, either question them immediately or write down their names for later. We're going to meet up here at lunch and see what we've got then."

The team nodded, and the pairs hastily left the stuffy classroom, coordinating which team would visit which classes as they went. It took Hotch five interrupted lessons until his eye caught something noteworthy. It was the girl Derek had pointed out over her resemblance to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spencer watching her, too. He watched how she leaned towards the boy sitting beside her, the way her eyebrows furrowed the exact same way his own did when he questioned something. Her face mostly serious, except for a slight quirk of her lips. Hotch shook his head and forced himself to survey the rest of the class. He didn't notice anything suspicious and, after a few minutes, exchanged a small nod with Reid, both moving to leave the room again.

"The resemblance was already uncanny in the picture that Derek had earlier. But seeing her mannerisms, she really is the female version of you. Biologically speaking, that is almost impossible considering she's not related to you. The likelihood of such a close resemblance in appearance and behaviour of two people worldwide is roughly 1%." Spencer immediately launched into a fascinated rant about genetics and statistics, but Hotch didn't really pay attention. His mind still preoccupied by the girl, Y/N, herself.

☆☆☆☆

It took them almost until noon before they’d checked in on all classes, made a list of everything that had been noteworthy or suspicious, and discussed it all. Going by the similarities of the victims, they were able to make out three students who might be the perpetrators' next targets. After another hour of discussion and theorising within the team, they were nearly a hundred per cent sure that Charlotte Jones was the most likely target of them. Emily was tasked to keep an eye on her and to get some more information, while Spencer and Derek started to interview the list of students and teachers, who had appeared to be suspicious. Rossi and JJ were tasked with taking another look around the school, while Hotch would wait for the information gathered by Prentiss. It only took her around 20 minutes before he received a list of names consisting of friends and acquaintances that were worth questioning.

He tasked one of the teaching stuff with collecting the required people while settling in the second classroom. The first six friends of Charlotte had no insights to offer, and while it wasn’t their fault, Hotch felt like banging his head on the table. Taking a deep breath, he called out for the next person to enter the room.

The door opened, and a girl took a few steps into the room. Hotch immediately realised it was Y/N. Her eyes met his, and her mouth opened slightly in astonishment and surprise. It was barely noticeable, and Hotch would have missed it if he didn't have the same habit.

"Please take a seat," he said gently while motioning towards the chair opposite of him. Her expression turned neutral again as she moved closer and did as asked.

"If you'd please state your full name for the protocol."

"Y/N Bennett," she softly answered. "Why am I being questioned?"

Hotch leaned back into his chair, ignoring the feeling of recognition at her last name for now, and gifted her with a rare smile to reassure her.

"I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. I work with the Behavioural Analysis Unit at the FBI. We're here because in the past two weeks, three girls and women have gone missing. Two of which were later found dead. We've been informed by some of the students that you are good friends with Charlotte Jones?"

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed again, her brown eyes meeting his without hesitation.

"Charlotte and I have known each other for years. We went to Little League together and have been friends ever since. But what does she have to do with this? She's one of the kindest people I know. She'd never hurt anyone."

"We think that she is the perpetrators next target. We already spoke with her and one of my colleagues is currently with her to make sure that she is safe", her shoulders, which had tensed at his explanation, relaxed a little with the knowledge that her friend was taken care of. "Did you, by any chance, know any of the first three victims?", he asked while presenting her with three pictures.

She leaned forward, giving the photographs a closer look before pointing at the first and last one. "Mrs. Williams worked in the school library in the afternoons, I didn't know her very well, though. And Amy had just transferred schools after her parents had to move states because of work." When she leaned back into her own chair, eerily mirroring Hotch's own pose, she narrowed her eyes again.

"They're dead?", she asked softly. The question took him aback, having expected the news to have reached the student body.

"You didn't know?" Her eyes drifted to the pictures again, shoulders slightly hunching in on herself, sadness now predominant in her face.

"No", she whispered. "Mrs. Davis, the headmistress, informed us at the last student meeting that Mrs. Williams was taking time off because of a family emergency and that Amy had had the opportunity to participate in an international sports competition. No one knew."

"I am sorry", Hotch gently said while his brain was working through all possible scenarios as to why the headmistress might have lied to staff and students - it would explain why no one was able to give them any information though. "If I'd know that you hadn't been aware, I wouldn't have sprung it onto you like that."

The corner of her lips quirked slightly as she assured him that it was alright.

"We were looking for a connection between all of the victims, and it seems you just might have pointed us in the right direction."

He gratefully dismissed her and called for the team to join him in the room, waiting until they'd all settled down.

"Did your mini-me have something interesting for us?", Derek smirked at him.

"She did. Apparently, Mrs. Davis never told anyone about the deaths of the victims. She made up excuses like family emergencies or sports competitions as the reason why people were missing." He could see the second his team understood the implications of what he'd said.

"She had a connection to all three victims as well as our suspected next targets," JJ muttered.

"And she's in the perfect position to hide what's going on. I'm sure she told the staff not to give out the information we required. And no one would question the reasons for the victims' absences when they are explained by the headmistress herself." Emily continued slowly.

☆☆☆☆☆

As the team left the room, determination and purpose filling their movements, Hotch called Rossi to stay back for a second.

"Will you be able to handle the arrest without me?", Hotch asked quietly.

Dave mustered him for a moment, his gaze piercing before his face split into a mischievous grin: "I guess you have some private matter to discuss with the mother of our lovely Y/N?"

Hotch blanched at his words, which just made Dave laugh at his reaction.

"We're not blind, Aaron. The resemblance is uncanny, too uncanny. And it's not just her looks. It's the way she carries herself and interacts with others. She's literally a female version of you. And you've been preoccupied ever since you spoke with her for the interview. I guess you recognised her last name?"

He just nodded and sighed: "Yes. Chloe and I had been a couple for nearly four years when we both received job offers at the opposite ends of the country. LA and Washington don't mix too well, but neither of us wanted to decline. We found that we both wanted different things in life and decided to split up on friendly terms. She never told me she was pregnant, and I'd like to believe that she would have since we stayed in contact for some time. I just - I want to know if she's mine."

Dave nodded, his warm hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly while meeting his eyes.

"I think you already know the answer. Go and talk to her. We can handle Mrs. Davis. We'll meet you here afterwards, alright?"

☆☆☆☆☆

He felt a bit like an asshole when he once again tasked one of the teaching staff to please collect one of the students. He paced up and down the classroom while he waited, nervously wringing his hands. He had no idea how to approach this matter. He never expected this to happen. How the hell was he going to explain this situation? When he turned around again, he stopped dead in his tracks. At the other end of the room stood Y/N.

Hotch couldn't tear his gaze away from her. His heart swelled with a mixture of joy and sorrow, realizing the years he had missed with his daughter while simultaneously being so grateful to get a chance to experience a connection he never thought he would. He felt an overwhelming need to bridge the gap between them, to make up for lost time, but he knew that he couldn’t just spring this onto her. Chloe hadn’t been very forthcoming in their conversation, she’d just confirmed that Y/N was indeed his and that after their breakup, when she hadn’t yet known that she was pregnant, she didn’t want to tie him down with a child. She didn’t react to his own argument that he’d had a right to know that he had a child, nor did she answer him when he asked what she’d told Y/N about her father. Their talk had barely lasted five minutes, on the front porch of the little house Chloe and Y/N lived in since she’d refused him entrance as soon as she’d recognised him.

Now, being back at the school, standing in the stuffy classroom again, for once in his life, he didn’t know how to approach the subject. Rossi, with his usually perceptive ways, had instantly recognised his facial expression as he’d come back, ushering the rest of the team out to get a late lunch after their successful arrest of Mrs. Davis. Y/N had arrived just as his colleagues left, now standing opposite him with her arms crossed over her chest and unrelentingly staring at him across the room.

Before he had a chance to say anything, she took a step towards him, her face set into a stony, neutral expression: “So, are you going to tell me why you just left mom and me to fend for ourselves?”

For the first time in a long time, Hotch wasn’t sure how to respond or react. He opened his mouth just to close it again.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice, did you? I’m not that stupid. We look almost exactly the same. How big is the likelihood of that? And when I called mom earlier, she confirmed it. So, have you got anything to say or not?” She gave him approximately three seconds to respond before she turned around and moved back towards the door.

Seeing her reach for the door handle spurred his brain back into gear, realising that this most likely was his only chance to make this right and that Chloe apparently hadn’t talked about him very favourably.

“Y/N, wait, please. Let me explain”, his voice came out gentle and quieter than he had intended it to. It made her pause, though, which he counted as a slight win. She turned back towards him, shoulders tense and face still carefully neutral.

“Alright. I don’t really feel like it, but you’ve got 5 minutes, Agent Hotchner.”

He couldn’t completely hide his wince at her choice of address but nodded in acceptance. Hotch took a moment to collect his thoughts, trying to decide how to start his explanation.

“You did notice correctly. And I know that you’re probably less than inclined to believe me right now, but I can assure you that it was as much of a surprise for me as it was for you”, he decided to ignore her unbelieving snort in favour of continuing with his explanation. “Your mother and I were a couple around 17 years ago. We had been together for almost four years, getting to know each other at school and then going on to study at the same university. We’d both graduated at the same time and had plans to move in together when we both received promising job offers. Chloe had a chance at getting her dream job in LA while I had a very promising offer in Washington. We sat down together to talk about it and found that neither of us was willing to decline their offer and that our general ideas for the future differed quite a lot. So, in the end, we decided that we should split up on amicable terms rather than wait until our relationship fell apart. I didn’t know your mother was pregnant and, when I spoke to her earlier, she told me that she hadn’t known either at the time.”

He kept his voice purposefully soft, paying attention to not letting the frustration at her mother bleed through.

“That’s not what I’ve heard”, was the only thing she said. He couldn’t make out any emotion on her face, which frustrated him to no end. He distantly wondered if his colleagues ever felt the same towards him. He felt helpless. He could do no more than try and explain the situation. He was aware that it sounded unlikely and ridiculous, especially if she’s been told something else entirely her entire life. Yet he wanted to be part of her life so badly. He’d already missed so many years. She was 16 years old, after all, nearly a grown woman already. And he felt slightly sick when he thought about all the things, all the first times in her life he had unwittingly missed. Yet, without really knowing her, he felt undeniably proud of the person she’d become. Throughout the day, from what the team was able to observe, she was quite intelligent, polite, kind, and gladly helped other’s out or stood up for them when they couldn’t do it themselves.

Maybe it was something about the expression on his face, but her stance softened just the tiniest bit. A sigh escaped her lips.

“I don’t know if you’re telling the truth. I don’t know a lot of things right now. To be honest, I feel way out of my depth. I never thought I’d find out who my father was. I think I need some time to sort through all of this”, he noticed that she also kept her tone of voice carefully neutral.

Hotch nodded in understanding. It would have been naive and foolish to think that she’d instantly accept everything she’d just learned today. Not only had she found out that two people she knew had been killed by a person, who was supposed to keep her and the rest of the students and staff safe, and that one of her closest friend had nearly turned out to be the next victim. She also, surprisingly and without any warning, had come face to face with a father she’d never expected to meet as well as having to sort through two entirely different stories of what had happened. The very foundation of her life had been shaken up within a day. A place where she should have felt safe no longer did. Her understanding of her family and origin suddenly changed.

“I understand”, Hotch acknowledged gently. “I didn’t expect anything else. I wrote down my private number on one of my business cards. If you feel like you’ve worked through everything and want to stay in contact, you can call at any time.”

She slowly took the card he held out and carefully tucked it into her pocket, which Hotch counted as a positive sign. He hesitated for a second, not sure if he should say any more, but came to the conclusion that it couldn’t get much worse.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for your mother and for me as well. And I’m also sure that you might not want to hear this, but I wish I’d found out sooner that I have a daughter. I would have loved to be a part of your life before now. But I plan on being a part of your life for as long as you’ll have me. I will not force you to. If you decide that you never want to see me again, I will accept it. I don’t want to make your life any more difficult than it already is. But if you want me in your life, I’ll be there.”

Her brown eyes bored into his for a long moment before she simply nodded and left the room. Hotch continued to stand in the stuffy, bare classroom for quite some time. He knew that he couldn’t do much. He didn’t have the right to force himself into her life if she didn’t want him there. He would respect her decision. Even if it might break his heart. Because even if he’d only known her for barely a day, his heart was so full of his daughter, a daughter he didn’t knew he had, that he felt like it might burst any second.

☆☆☆☆

It was about a week later that Hotch was surprised by a knock on his front door on his day off. He had expected a lot of people on the other side of the door - maybe a salesperson or someone collecting for charity, some religious group, or a boy scout trying to sell cookies. He hadn’t however expected to come face to face with a very nervous looking Y/N. For a second, they just stared at each other before he suddenly found himself stumbling back a few steps as her smaller body barrelled into his, her arms wrapping around his waist.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her back, hugging her close to his body. He felt how her shoulders shook underneath his hands and heard her sobs that were muffled against his shoulder. One of his hands came up to cup the back of her head, whispering soft words of comfort against her hair while his chin came to rest against her temple. He carefully moved them into the house and towards the living room, settling them down on the sofa. The hand on her back rubbed comforting circles into her skin, gently trying to calm her down enough to understand what was going on.

„Hush, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath in with me? Very good. And now slowly breathe out alongside me. Just like that. And again…. You’re doing good, Y/N. I’m here. It’s going to be alright.“

With every deep breath and every muttered reassurance, she calmed down a little more until her breathing was almost back to normal. He continued to hug her close to his body, not wanting to be the first one to let go when she so obviously needed the support. It took her a few minutes before she slowly moved away from him, a bashful, almost embarrassed expression on her face.

He felt a deep-seated need to make her feel better, so he unthinkingly handed her his handkerchief. Y/N took it with a small quirk of her lips, cleaning her face and blowing her nose.

„You know that no one under 50 uses those, right?“, it was a very obvious attempt at lightening up the mood, but he gladly played along.

„People have found more creative ways to call me old, you know?“

She chuckled weakly, carefully placing the handkerchief on the coffee table before turning towards him again.

„I am sorry for just appearing here without calling first. It was just- I-“, she nervously picked at her clothes.

„I don’t mind, Y/N. You’re welcome here at any time. However you found out where I live…“

„I might have tried at the BAU first where your colleague helped me out. The Italian one. Agent Rossi, I think? He was really nice, gave me some of his Cannoli“, she smiles sheepishly.

„Definitely Agent Rossi“, he confirmed with a smile. „Though he usually doesn’t share his baked goods with anyone. He’s very protective over them.“

He mustered her for a moment before he sat up and leaned towards her.

„I am glad to see you. And as I said, you are welcome here any time. I won’t lie and say that I expected it, though. I expected you to call at some point. What happened?“

„The perceptivenesse comes with the job at the BAU, huh?“, she tried to deflect his question.

„I’d rather think that most people would come to the same conclusion if someone turns up at their doorstep crying“, he gently said, reaching our to squeeze her hand.

Y/N sighed softly and nodded in acknowledgement.

„I guess I owe you an explanation, huh?“

„You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. But I think you might feel better if you tell me what’s been going on.“

„Alright. I talked to Mom about everything, and at first, she stayed with the story she’s always told me. You know, that one day you just left us and that was it. But I thought about what you said to me, and she never elaborated on anything, and that felt a little weird. So, I sat her down and told her I wanted to know the truth. And-“, she stopped herself to take a deep breath, Hotch gently squeezing her hand in reassurance. „She finally told me that what you’d said was true. That you’d split, and she just never told you and I- I was just so angry at her for taking that experience away from me. For lying to me every time I’d asked, especially when I was still little and having a dad was all I’ve ever wanted. And she just shrugged like it was no big deal. And she didn’t even have a reason because it’s not like you treated her terribly or you separated on bad terms. And I couldn’t look at her anymore, and I may have Googled the BAU and just left, and then your colleague found me, and now I’m here.“

The last part of her explanation was said without her taking a single breath, and he could watch how her eyes glazed over with tears again and her lips pressed together in an effort to hold her emotions back. Hotch could only imagine how she felt with the entire situation. God knew he had been overwhelmed by it himself, and he was the adult who should know how to deal with it. But seeing her sitting there, trying to hide her emotions, broke him a little. So he did the only thing he could think of and pulled her back into his arms.

He could understand what she meant, just the tiniest bit. In never telling him that he had a daughter, Chloe had taken the experience of seeing his child grow up from him. He couldn’t watch her become the person she was today, couldn’t help her on the way, or give her little nudges in the right direction. He never held his little girl after a nightmare or celebrated a win at Little League with her, nor had he been able to teach her how to ride a bike or drive a car or make pancakes the way his grandmother had made them. Y/N, however, had been missing a part of her family history. A part of her understanding of where she was coming from. And from what she’d said, she apparently didn’t have anyone else filling in as a father figure in her life.

„It’s going to be alright, Y/N. I know that we both can’t get back the years that we’ve missed. But we can use all the time that we have left to get to know each other and build a relationship“, he gently carded his hand through her hair. „I’m 100% in as long as you want me in your life. And you are more than welcome to stay here with me for a while if you don’t want to face your Mom for a while. But I should call her and tell her you're safe so she doesn’t worry and knows where you are. And, as much as you might dread it right now, at one point, we should all sit down together and talk through the situation at hand.“

And that’s what he did. As soon as she’d felt a bit better, he’d called Chloe and let her know that Y/N was with him. She’d put up no resistance when he’d told her that she’d be staying with him for a few days to work through everything and that they should meet up to talk everything through.

He and Y/N spent the next few days getting to know each other. He leaned that she was planning on studying psychology and wanted to become a therapist, that she loved reading love poems but absolutely hated romance novels, loved strawberries but was allergic to them, that all her plants died all the time and that she loved crows. Hotch shared his grandmother’s pancake receipt with her, told her about his time before the BAU and why he decided to change jobs, talked a little about his team and what they did, shared his love for 80's music with her as well as his love for really badly written crime novels, where one knew from the beginning who the perpetrator was, and his very well hidden sweet tooth.

As days turned into weeks and months, the team welcomed the young girl with open arms as well. Even though she moved back to her mom’s house after they’d all talked, because she wanted to finish school there, she spent a lot of her weekends and free time either at Hotch’s or the BAU. With her interest in psychology, their work was fascinating to her. She quickly formed a unique bond with the team as well. Rossi, the fun uncle, who shared his food with her but no one else (though Y/N regularly sneaked Hotch some of Rossi’s baked goods after she learned of his fondness for sweet things). Emily turned into a bad-ass big sister who taught her some neat self-defense tricks and was eternally greatfull for Y/N’s help when it came to technology. Garcia and JJ, who regularly took her out for film nights or/and shopping sprees. Derek turned into a protective big brother, who had helped her and Hotch to modify her room at Hotch’s into her dream room with his skills as a carpenter. Spencer and her were often seen deep in discussion about some intellectual or psychological matter or bickering over a TV show. The prank war between them, that had started because they both had a different opinion on who the best Doctor was, was still regularly talked about by everyone in the BAU.

They all formed a special bond, one built on shared experiences, laughter, and understanding. Hotch and Y/N made every effort to make up for the lost years with shared love, support, and guidance.

The BAU became a second family to Y/N, offering a support system she had never known (and was more than practical when it came to her chosen career path). Within them, she found solace and strength. Hotch and Y/N both revelled in the small moments they shared, cherishing their newfound father-daughter relationship and having found a place in each other’s lives.

[galaxysupreme17]

Scarlet Widow

Okay, so I have been on an Avengers and Criminal Minds binge. I was pacing around my room thinking of writing prompts, and a crossover between the two came to my mind, and I needed to get it out before I forgot. This is Emily Prentiss X Tara Lewis. (I love Temily). This is also the x daughter!Reader!!

Y/n Danvers had lived many lives in her seventeen years. Trained in the Black Widow program from the tender age of five, she had seen more hardship and danger than most people experienced in a lifetime. 

Rescued at fifteen by Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, she found solace and guidance under Natasha's care until she was legally an adult. Now, Nick Fury, the ever-watchful director of SHIELD, had given her a new mission: infiltrate the BAU and gather intelligence on a rogue agent named James Monroe.

James Monroe had been suspected of targeting various federal bureaus, and SHIELD was next on his list after the BAU. He used his status to collect young kids and send them to train in Hydra or the Black Widow Program. Y/n's mission was clear, but it was complicated by her assignment to live undercover with two foster mothers, Emily Prentiss and Tara Lewis, both prominent members of the BAU.

In the foster system, Y/n had been taken in by Emily and Tara. At first, it was just another mission. But over ten months, Y/n had grown attached to the two women who had become her foster mothers. They had no idea their new daughter was the Scarlet Widow, an Avenger with unparalleled combat skills.

Emily and Tara treated Y/n with kindness and care, giving her a sense of stability she hadn't felt in years. They attended her school events, celebrated her successes, and provided comfort during tough times. Y/n felt like a normal teenager for the first time in a long while despite the weight of her secret.

Late one evening, Y/n sat in her room, scrolling through her phone. The glow of the screen illuminated her face as she messaged Natasha.

Y/n: I don't know how much longer I can keep this secret from them, Nat. They've been so good to me.

Natasha: I know it's tough, kid. But you're doing this to protect them and many others. Stay strong.

Y/n: I know. It's just... they're starting to feel like real family.

Natasha: That's a good thing, Y/n. It means you're healing. Just remember, you can always talk to me. We're in this together.

Y/n: Thanks, Nat. I don't know what I'd do without you.

Natasha: You'd probably be even more of a badass than you already are. 😉

Y/n smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. Natasha had always been like a big sister to her, guiding her, protecting her, and pushing her to be her best. Their bond was unbreakable, forged in the fires of their shared experiences.

Y/n: How's everything at HQ?

Natasha: Busy as always. Clint's been teaching the new recruits some archery tricks. You'd love to see it.

Y/n: I miss you guys.

Natasha: We miss you too. Just focus on the mission for now. We'll have a big reunion when this is all over.

Y/n: Deal. Stay safe, Nat.

Natasha: You too, Y/n. Remember, if you need anything, I'm just a call away.

The next day, the BAU team was called to a scene that quickly became a nightmare. Held hostage by James Monroe's partner, Jessica Black, the team found themselves in dire straits.

"Everyone stay calm," Aaron Hotchner ordered, trying to maintain control. "We'll find a way out of this."

In a nearby park, Y/n received a call from Agent Coulson. "Y/n, the team is in trouble. Jessica Black has them hostage. You need to reveal yourself and take them down."

Y/n's heart raced. This was the moment she had dreaded and prepared for. She suited up in her combat uniform, the familiar feel of her gear grounding her. She was no longer just Y/n Danvers; she was the Scarlet Widow.

The compound was heavily guarded, but Y/n moved through it with the precision and agility drilled into her during her years of training. She dispatched guards with swift, calculated moves, her senses on high alert.

Inside the building, Jessica noticed the disturbance on the security monitors. "James," she called, "we have company."

James turned his attention to the monitors, a sly smile creeping across his face. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Scarlet Widow. Or is it Y/n?"

Tara looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

James chuckled. "Your little foster daughter has quite the secret."

Emily and Tara exchanged worried glances. "What secret?" Emily demanded.

"You'll see soon enough," James said, returning to the screen.

Y/n moved through the corridors, her focus unwavering. She reached the door to the room where the BAU team was being held and took a deep breath. This was it.

She burst through the door, gun drawn. "Everyone, stay down!"

James laughed. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Scarlet Widow. Or is it Y/n?"

"Shut up, James," Y/n snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"What are you going to do? You don't have the rest of your team here."

"I don't need them. I can handle myself pretty well."

"Sure you can. Why don't you remove that mask and show our guests who you truly are?"

"Stop talking," Y/n growled, her patience wearing thin.

She lunged at James, their fight a blur of fists and kicks. Jessica joined in, and Y/n found herself outnumbered but undeterred. She fought with a ferocity that came from years of training and a deep-seated need to protect those she cared about.

James managed to pin Y/n down at one point, ripping her mask off. Emily and Tara gasped as they recognized their foster daughter.

"Y/n?" Tara whispered, her voice trembling.

Y/n didn't let the revelation slow her down. She kicked James off her, using the momentum to flip back onto her feet. She moved with deadly precision, taking down Jessica and James in a series of swift, calculated moves. Within moments, both were on the floor, tied up and subdued.

"Agent Coulson, the room is secure," Y/n spoke into her comms. "You can bring in the rest of the agents."

Coulson and a team of SHIELD agents stormed in, quickly securing the area. Y/n ran over to Emily and Tara, her heart pounding. "Are you both okay?"

Emily and Tara nodded, still in shock. "Y/n, we had no idea," Emily said, her voice breaking.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Y/n replied, her eyes full of emotion. "I had to keep it a secret."

Coulson approached, calling Y/n to the side. "Fury wants you back for a new mission," he said quietly.

Y/n glanced at Emily and Tara, who talked with JJ and Matt. They all took glances at her and Coulson. "Tell Fury no. I need to clean some things up here."

Coulson nodded, understanding. "Take the time you need."

As Coulson walked away, Emily and Tara approached, unsure what to say. They just stood there for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in. Y/n looked at them, tears welling up in her eyes, and immediately fell into their arms, hugging them tightly. Emily started checking Y/n for any severe injuries, her maternal instincts kicking in.

"Are you hurt?" Emily asked, her hands gently inspecting Y/n's face and arms.

"I'm okay, really," Y/n assured her, a small smile on her lips.

Back at the BAU, the team gathered in the conference room. Y/n stood at the front, taking a deep breath. "It's okay to ask questions," she said, her voice steady.

Before anyone could speak, Penelope Garcia burst through the door. "I found out everything about Y/n!" she exclaimed, waving a folder. "Emily and Tara asked me to look into her background."

The team smiled, and Y/n nodded at Penelope to continue. "Go ahead, Penelope."

Penelope explained Y/n's history, from her early years in the Black Widow program to her rescue by Natasha and Clint. Y/n filled in the details, explaining her training and the mission that brought her to the BAU. Emily and Tara listened intently, taking in every word.

As the meeting ended and everyone left, Emily and Tara lingered. "What does this mean for our little family?" Emily asked softly, looking at Y/n with concern.

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Reunited

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader, Emily Prentiss x Platonic Fem!Reader, Penelope Garcia x Fem!Reader

Warning: mentions of cheating, teasing, divorced parents

Word count: 928

"While you all stay at some hotel, I'm going to stay at my mother's house. Penelope too" Emily smirked as she sat down at her desk "I thought you didn't like Elizabeth?" Spencer asked. "Not her. Y/n" she rolled her eyes "Hotch's ex-wife?" Derek questioned as he walked in "yeah?" Emily flung her hand around.

"Hotch is going to have a blast with this one" Rossi laughed silently as he listened in "And I miss my little sister" she admitted bashfully.

"Where's Emily?" Hotch sighed as the team began gathering at the jet "She might have taken the earliest flight last night with Penelope to go stay with her mom" JJ winced.

Aaron let himself into your home a day after they arrived in town, wanting to find his two missing members "Mommy there's a strange man inside!" a young girl had panicked. You had come running at her scream, not thinking before getting him to the ground face down "I see you've still got it" he joked with a wheeze "Aaron?" you gasped.

"Are you crazy?" you yelled getting off him "What are you doing here?" helping him off the ground, your daughter running to hide behind your legs. "I hear you have two of my agents" he commented straightening his tie "They're out" you shrugged placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I'll be sure to call you when they're back though" you forced a smile trying to push him out of the home "Look Y/n. I'm sorry" he apologised with a deep breath. "Well, Aaron. thank you but it's many years too late" you smiled sarcastically "I know" he winced "and yet you still tried" you chuckled airily.

"Please Y/n. I'm trying" he rubbed his face "I don't know what you want from me" you admitted honestly "My girls have gone out like I said, there's not much I can do" shaking your head. He only smiled "What about coffee?" he asked "I can wait for them to get back and knowing you, there's probably fresh baked goods" he stepped forward.

"You're insane you know that" you chuckled "You might have told me a few times" he shrugged "You're so annoying" he mocked watching your mouth open. Taking a deep breath you lifted the girl onto your hip "Follow me" as you ventured into the spacious kitchen.

Emily and Penelope held their breaths as they walked into the home half expecting there to be screaming and yelling, things being thrown or smashed. It was no secret that your divorce from Hotch had been messy, you were devoted to the man and loved him endlessly but he had cheated with his high school sweetheart.

What they had seen was something completely different, Hotch was sitting at the table with your daughter colouring as you cooked lunch. He asked the girl questions here and there, most of them you hadn't been able to hear nor her answers as they spoke, there were cakes and various sweets around them.

"This is lovely" Emily teased placing her bags by the door followed by Penelope "We aren't in trouble are we?" the blonde asked nervously. "Nonsense" you smiled beginning to serve everything "Can you girls help with the table please?" Emily nodded stealing a brownie as she packed things away.

Penelope stuffed a cupcake into her mouth as she grabbed the utensils, Hotch felt a little out of place- sure he used to be married to you and this was your normal but it felt odd. Maybe it was the fact you had a child of your own now? or that you looked amazing yet he couldn't sneak up behind you wrapping his arms around your smaller frame to press a kiss to your neck whispering how great you looked?".

He knew he fucked up big time and that maybe it was the fact you weren't his anymore that hurt the most. He had hurt you, neglected you, cheated and still he wanted you more than anything.

Lunch had gone smoothly- too smoothly, it felt like your old Saturday lunches with the girls as you all talked and laughed until it became the time Aaron cleared his throat after.

He thanked you for the food but admitted that he had to get going and the girls too, you walked him to the door leaning against the frame "Why can't they stay Aaron?" you whispered looking up at him. "Why must you punish me more?" you asked as tears gathered along your waterline "You come here looking all hot and I can't do a damn thing about it but just.. Look".

"You think I didn't have the same thoughts watching you... Y/n I regret everything that I did to hurt you but now I've got a son and you have a daughter who has a father somewhere".

"He's here" you confessed "Where?" placing a hand to his chest you repeated yourself "Me?" he asked confused "I was going to tell you that day but I had found you two and I- just... it never happened and well you didn't want children at the time".

He cupped your face gently as you looked down "You're telling me that I have missed out on almost ten years of that little girl's life because I didn't know just what I had until you were gone?"

"In two months, I'll come back. I'll bring my little boy Jack and the girls too, we'll go to our old little cabin cause your birthdays coming up and that's how we'll celebrate".

“Together”

[bensonsbobblehead]

Free - Emily Prentiss x Daughter!Reader

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Daughter!reader

Summary: Your mom finds out you are apart of the LGBTQ community from an unsub at your school.

Content warnings: Murder and stabbing (nothing graphic) Hate crimes against the lgbt community. getting outted, coming out, Emily being a great mommy.

Word count: 1.2k

*not my gif*

Emily Prentiss had always been alone from a young age. She was independent and wild when she was younger due to moving around a lot with her mother. Emily’s met y/n dad when she was traveling through England on her last trip with her mom before college. They hit it off well, some would even say they were in love. When Emily got pregnant with y/n her father wanted nothing to do with the baby. She was left to raise y/n on her own while pursuing her career to be an FBI agent.

Years later Emily is a member of the BAU in Virginia with a 16 year old y/n. Y/N had grown up to be what Emily would say was ‘a way better version than of her’ Y/n always stayed out of trouble, kept her grades up, and was a star player on the soccer team.

Y/N was popular and well liked. She didn’t fit into one group she had known everyone. When the news broke that there was someone at the school were stabbing girls who were gay to “teach them a lesson” the school was in chaos. More so y/n, she was on edge for weeks hoping her moms team would hurry and catch whoever was doing this.

The BAU was of course called to the case. Putting Emily on high alert with Y/N even more than before. She was always overprotective due to what she sees on the job.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked as y/n was walking to the door.

“Oh .. I’m going to study with a group of friends at the library” y/n replied nonchalantly.

Emily was working the case dealing with the school so she knew who the unsub was targeting , regardless y/n was still a girl and a target to other people. They thought it would be an open and shut case but the unsub knew how to cover his tracks well enough that the case dragged on

“Ok please be home before dark… and leave your phone ringer on… And make sure you had your pepper spray and the pocket knife your uncle Derek gave you.” She ordered.

Y/n was use to Emily being over protectiveness since she was a young girl. Emily would always keep it together at work with her compartmentalizing in front of the team. She never showed any emotion and just handle each case with ease.

Y/n knew that her mom hid her emotions from the team but when Emily would get home from some cases she would just watch y/n sleep. On rare cases that are really bad Emily would just lay with y/n and hold her while crying.

Y/n and Emily were close they were always there for each other even if y/n never knew about the bad cases in details. She just wanted to be there for her mom the best she could.

“Of course mama I know you tell me every time I’m going somewhere.” Y/n said as she was walking out the door.

Emily was right behind her getting ready to go in for work. The team was getting close to closing the case the they found out the unsub was at y/n school on the boys soccer team.

They begin interrogating the soccer team until they came down to two possible unsubs. Ronnie Purcell, 18, who grew up in a church and had a lot to say about people “going against the Bible”. The team ruled Ronnie out when they found out he was just trying to fit in with the unsub. Eventually Ronnie gave up the boy who was murdering the girls from the school. Maurice Dudley, who was captain of the soccer team and so happen to know everything about everyone.

The BAU concluded that Maurice grew up in a religious household with his sister Mya. His father was a drunk and would feed Mya Maurice false information about how gay people were evil and the cause for what would be the end of the world. So, he started going around targeting people who were apart of the lgbtq community starting with girls.

“Hello Maurice, I’m Agent Morgan and this is my partner Agent Prentiss do you know why you’re here today?” Morgan asked.

Maurice looked up right into Agent Prentiss eyes. “Prentiss like y/n Prentiss?” Maurice had known y/n from the girls team. His sister, Mya, who was best friends with y/n had been on the phone with y/n talking about a crush y/n had on a certain girl in their grade.

Mya had no idea her brother was like this they knew their father was crazy so Mya never believed a word he said about the Bible or gay people.

Emily stared at him with anger building in her chest hearing him say her daughters name. “This isn’t about anyone else this is about the hate crimes you committed. You killed three girls and put another in the hospital.” Emily said in an angry tone.

“Your gay daughter was next. She’s corrupting my sister. Telling her how she likes girls. it’s disgusting and she deserves to be punished like those other things” Maurice said loudly “yeah I did it! So what? I promise I’m gonna get your gay daughter away from my sister!”

Emily was in shock she had no idea about her sexuality. They had always been open with each other. Emily had talked about sex, periods, and life with her allowing her to know she can be as open as she wants.

Emily knew y/n struggled sometimes with who to be and how to fit in. Y/n was the first and only person Emily had told she was bisexual. She couldn’t understand why y/n didn’t want to tell her. She stormed out the room to catch her breath.

After Maurice was arrested with 3 counts of murder and attempted murder. The case was closed and the team was sent home for the day.

Emily wanted to talk to y/n about it but she didn’t want to pressure her. Y/n walked in putting her bag down and kicking her shoes off.

“Hey mom, you’re home early.” She said with a smile as she quickly gave Emily a kiss on the cheek like she has everyday after school since kindergarten.

Y/N quickly picked up on her body language being raised by a profiler she picked up a few things. Y/N grabbed a snack and a drink and sat on the couch with Emily. She was watching Modern family, the households favorite show to watch together. Y/N was all of a sudden nervous from how quiet her mom was.

Emily usually talked about how annoying Morgan was or asking y/n about how her day was but nothing. So, y/n thought she had bad news and couldn’t tell her.

“Did Uncle Spencer die and you don’t know how to tell me?” Y/n asked quietly. Emily was taken aback at this question. “He’s just always getting hurt so I just figured that’s why you are quiet.”

“No” Emily said with a slight giggle “your uncle Spencer is fine along with the rest of the team... we arrested someone from your school today.” Emily told y/n, not knowing she already knew.

“Oh.. Maurice. Mya told me today. She was so sad but she hated everything he was doing but I guess she’s happy with the fact he’s behind bars now.” Y/N told Emily. Emily decided this was her chance.

“He actually mentioned you in his interrogation” this made the hairs on the back of y/n neck stand up. Mya told Y/N how her dad was forcing homophobia on them not that Mya fell for it but her brother did. So, when the girls who were murdered all happened to be gay she knew where this was going.

“What’d he say” y/n said completely terrified trying to hide it from her mom. Y/N knew Emily was her best friend and she would never judge her for who she is.

Emily would support her through it all. Emily always let y/n be free in who she was and never sheltered her. She knew her mom wouldn’t be mad she was just afraid of that she would think.

“I think we both know what he said.” Emily could tell she knew Maurice had outed y/n to her. “I just want to say I don’t care who you are I love you regardless. You are my daughter and nothing will ever change that.” Emily said sweetly.

Tears grew in Y/N eyes and she busted in a loud sob and Emily moved over to bury her in a hug.

“Im so sorry mom, I didn’t know how to tell you. I was going to but we both were busy and I was nervous.” Y/n said through her tears. Emily hugged her tighter allowing her to talk before saying anything else.

“I didn’t want you to see me differently since I like girls” y/n said quietly. Emily grabbed her cheeks looking her in the eye. “You are the same girl you were this morning nothing has changed. You’re the same girl that argues with Derek just to annoy him.” Y/n giggled.

“You’re the same girl that is an amazing soccer player and you’re the same girl I raised. Nothing will ever change that. I love you y/n.” They were both crying at this point.

After a few more tears the mother and daughter duo watched more modern family and eventually went to bed. The next afternoon when Y/n was coming home from school Emily texted her telling her she has a case and would be back. Y/N made a snack and headed to her room for a nap. When she walked into her room it was a pride flag on her bed that was from her mom. Y/N finally knew she was free.

[confused-pyramid]

Masterlist

hi!! fics are listed by fandom :) all fics are with fem!reader unless otherwise specified

✦ = smut

Marvel ⍟

Only Tonight ✦: frank castle x fem!reader (Frank comes to you to get patched up after a rough night on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight it doesn’t go as planned) // 2.8k words

(Un)requited: matt murdock x fem!reader (Matt knows you love him, but he can't bear to put you in danger by being with you) // 1.1k words

Sweet Escape ✦: frank castle x fem!reader (Frank has been coming to you when he needs to let off steam, but after you are put in danger because of him, everything between you two changes) // 4.7k words

Heaven and Back ✦: priest!matt murdock x fem!reader (Matt had always found solace in his religion, but then he met you, and everything he thought he knew about his beliefs fell apart…) // 5.9k words

We'll Be Okay ✦: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader (A series of snapshots through your relationship with Peter) // 4.2k words

Maybe I'm Not Scared: frank castle x karen page (A few moments in time following the events of 1x10 of The Punisher) // 3.2k words

Harry Potter/Marauders ϟ

Sneaking Around ✦: young!remus lupin x potter!reader (You're James' little sister, so when you and Remus want some alone time at a party, you have to sneak away...) // 1.7k words

I Was Wrong ✦ : young!sirius black x slytherin!reader (Sirius always thought you were just like his family: ruthless and cruel. When he finds out how wrong he was, he also learns how similar hate and lust can be...) // 6.4k words

Take Me Where the Music Ain't Too Loud: george weasley x fem!reader (You've had a crush on your best friend's brother for ages, and he only seems to reciprocate when he's drunk...) // 4.3k words (part 1/2)

Save Me Till the Party is Over ✦ : george weasley x fem!reader (Spending the holidays at the Weasley's gets awkward after George drunkenly confesses his feelings for you) // 4.9k words (part 2/2)

Better Not To Give ✦ : draco malfoy x fem!reader (It’s your sixth year at Hogwarts and Draco has been acting different. The more he pushes you away, the more you try to hold on, but at what cost?) // 4.7k words

Criminal Minds 🖿

Back To You ✦ : emily prentiss x fem!reader (You get assigned to help out the BAU, forcing you to work with your ex-girlfriend, Emily) // 5.1k words

While I Breathe, I Hope ✦: aaron hotchner x fem!reader (Aaron doesn't let people in, but when you burrow your way into his life, he finds that even the worst moments don't hurt as much...) // 10.1k words

Anchor series: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader (Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.) // 108.6k words

Miscellaneous

It's Always Been You ✦: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x fem!reader (As Iceman’s daughter, you and Rooster grew up together, but your friendship transforms when you are assigned to train for a dangerous mission that’s never been accomplished before) // 5.7k words

Derailed ✦: tangerine x assassin!reader (When Tangerine spots you in the middle of his mission on a bullet train, he gets entangled in your plans and loses track of his own...) // 2.8k words

Damage is Done ✦: rafe cameron x pogue!reader (You and Rafe hooked up when you first moved to the OBX, and he hasn't been able to get you out of his system ever since) // 8.6k words

Breaking Point ✦: art donaldson x fem!reader (You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite) // 3.4k words

[weasleysprince]

My Village

BAU/Emily Prentiss x Reader

Trans FtM Reader

TW: Homophobia, Transphobia, D slur, T slur

Based on The Village by Wrabel

-

-

Life growing up hadn't been easy for you, especially not since you came out. Lets just say your family wasn't the most supportive bunch of people. They made their opinions on certain subjects very known, so although you were disappointed, you weren't surprised when they lashed out at you. You had come home one day from class in sophomore year and nervously told your parents and brother that you had a girlfriend, and their reaction was less than kind. Your mom started sobbing, muttering about how the devil had gotten her daughter, your brother stared at you in disgust, and your father lashed out, screaming and cursing at you, calling you a disgusting dyke among other things. "Imagine what your grandmother would say!" he shouted. "You'd give her a heart attack!" Your father grounded you for a month, taking away all your electronics and any connection to the internet or your girlfriend. Then, they never spoke of it again. After that though, your relationship was never the same. You and your girlfriend didn't stay together for longer than a few months, but after that you were terrified to date again, not wanting to upset your parents anymore. However, as you grew older your relationship with your family became strained, until it finally broke when you left for college. You were never allowed to express yourself or how you felt. Your dad forbid you from ever cutting off your hair, saying it was long and too beautiful to chop off, and how a man would never want a young lady with short hair. Your mother practically forced you to wear makeup, saying you'd never find a man if you didn't put any effort into how you looked. You had gotten fed up with it, so when you left your hometown to go to New York to study criminal justice and behavior, you never looked back.

That brings you to where you are today. Once you graduated college you were offered a job at the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. When you joined the team, they quickly became your family. However, you became closest with Emily Prentiss. She understood how you felt, she had feelings for girls she never understood growing up, and was afraid of her mothers reaction so she never spoke of it. After a few months, the two of you began dating. You were so much happier now than you had ever been, but you still didn't feel complete. You voiced your feelings to JJ one day when the two of you were driving to the police station on a case. You told her how you've never felt quite right in your body but thought it was just fear of people learning you liked women. However, when you explained how dressing up and wearing makeup and having your almost waist length hair, and even seeing your body without any clothes, made you fee, she understood completely. She told you that what you were describing was the feelings of transgender people. You were shocked. The thought of being transgender never crossed your mind, but as soon as she said it you knew. So, after the case was over you explained your revelation to Emily, afraid she would leave you since you no longer identified as a woman. However, she smiled and hugged you, saying how much she loved you and how she was so proud that you discovered your true self. The next day, she and JJ help you explain to the rest of your team that you now used he/him pronouns and preferred to go by Y/N. They all had a reaction similar to Emily, they hugged you and told you how proud of you and happy for you they were.

Everything was going great. Of course, once you changed your appearance and started testosterone and planning for top surgery, there were rumors going around. But you didn't listen to them, because no ones opinion mattered to you but Emily and your teams. It had been a couple months since you started your transformation, your voice had begun to drop and there were a few minor changes in your facial features. It wasn't much but you were happy. However, one day you got a phone call from a number not saved in your phone. You answered it without looking at the area code. "This is Y/N, how can I help you?" you spoke into your phone, then heard an audible gasp. "Y/N? Oh come on Y/DN! What on earth is wrong with you! Don't tell me you're some tranny now as well!" the voice of your mother, that you hadn’t heard in so long, screamed over the phone. You froze, and Emily and the team looked at you in concern. "You know what, I don't even know why I called. You are such a disgrace to this family! I'm glad you left! I hope you burn in hell like you deserve!" your mother screamed once more, then hung up. You stood there for a moment before lowering your arm and dropping your phone, taking in a deep breath. Everyone rushed over in concern. "Y/N, darling, are you alright?" Emily asked you, holding your hand softly. You smiled up at her and the others, the tears in your eyes not falling which you were happy for. You explained to them what happened and they looked a mix of sad, disappointed and livid. Spencer hugged you, which you returned with the arm that Emily didn’t have a hold of. "We love you, your our family and you always will be, you know that right Y/N?" Spencer said as he pulled away from the hug. You smiled at him and nodded. "Of course, you guys are my village."

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Doubt: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"What is it?" Gideon wonders.

"These markings could have easily come from a taser."

"Here is the employment list or campus security. How we gonna narrow this down?" Jim asks, handing over the mile-long list.

"This unsub chose a closed community on purpose. He'd want to inject himself into the investigation. Can you check the records, find out if any of these security guards responded to every crime scene?"

"You got it."

"In the meantime, call Garcia. Have her check the list against criminal records."

"Okay," you nod and call Penelope right away.

"Talk to me, girlfriend."

"I need to give you a list of security guards."

You give her the list of names, but nothing promising comes of it.

"I got nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nada.Security guards are all clean and squeaky. No criminal records."

"What about a recent rejection? Something set him off. Have any of these guys got fired recently, or did their wife leave?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N. That's far too general, even with my powers of snooping."

"Okay, let me change tracks. You're a security guard," you begin to roleplay.

"I don't like where this is going."

"You probably had higher ambitions. Could you cross-check these guys against police and military records? See if any of them got kicked out or rejected?"

"I got one, but it's not recent," she says, clacking away at her keyboard.

"Give it to me anyway."

"Nathan Tubbs, rejected from the police academy, 2003. Failed his psych eval."

"I got a list of responders. Only four guards were at every scene," Jim says, walking into the room."

"You got a Nathan Tubbs on here?" When Jim nods, you turn the conversation back to Penelope. "Anything else you can give me?"

"I got a court appearance six days ago. Looks like the judge gave his wife full custody of their daughter. No visitation rights."

"How much do you want to bet his ex-wife is a brunette? You are the best."

"Word," she hangs up.

"It's Nathan. It's a possible."

You and your team break into Nathan's apartment, but he isn't home. Hotch and Derek take the two rooms by the front door while the others take the rest of the apartment. You head into his bedroom and stop when you see what's on his wall. There are newspaper clippings everywhere as well as ripped photos of the young girls who have died. This sick bastard is keeping these photos as mementos since he can't visit the bodies after he kills them.

"Gideon. Check this out," you say.

Gideon and Derek meet you in the back room while the rest of the team searches the place for any kind of evidence on where he might be.

"I've got his work schedule here. He's not on duty," Emily says.

"Where is he?"

You look around his apartment and look for things that might be missing like his car keys and his taser.

"He's out on campus. He may not be on duty, but the girls don't know that. His car keys and taser are missing," you state, holding up the holster his taser was in.

"Prentiss, Morgan, and Y/N, you're with me. The rest of you stay here and see if you can find evidence we can use to nail this guy," Gideon orders.

You four leave the apartment and head back to the campus, looking out for the security car you know he checked out. Since this campus is big, and all the girls are already freaking out, it's hard to pinpoint his exact location. His anxiety and crumbling facade isn't enough over the hundreds of women who feel fear, anxiety, and concern. This campus is filled with energies, so you can't use this either to follow. You just have to wander the campus until you get close enough to know where he is.

Luckily, you don't have to look too far.

It only took five minutes of wandering around when you spotted the security car that he checked out to use. Within seconds, half your team is rushing out to stop his car. He is scared, but he is the type of unsub to run this to the ground before he confesses.

"Nathan Tubbs! Hands where I can see them! Hands where I can see them! Get out of the car!" Derek yells.

"What's going on?" he asks, doing as he says.

You go to the passenger side of the car and open the door, addressing the terrified young woman.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" you ask gently.

"No," she shakes her head.

"Come on. You're safe now."

You help her out as Derek shoves Nathan to the car and handcuffs him in front of everyone.

"Don't move. Don't move!"

"I was protecting her!" Nathan tries, but no one is listening.

"What's this?" Gideon asks, pulling a knife from the floor of the car.

"This is over, Tubbs."

Nathan is brought to the police station to be interrogated while the local PD makes sure everyone is calm back at the campus. It may have been late at night, but if even one girl hears about this, they all do. Gideon wanted to be the only person inside the interrogation room with Nathan, but you're standing outside of it, listening to the entire conversation. You have to get a read on him to see how many murders he got away with.

He committed these acts, you just have to make him crack before he decides to lawyer up.

"Am I under arrest?" Nathan asks.

"I just want to visit for a while," Gideon says calmly.

"I didn't murder anyone."

That's a lie. His lies don't roll off him as smoothly as he thinks it does.

"You weren't supposed to be working tonight."

"They asked us to pick up extra shifts. There's a killer out there."

"Oh, I know. You were at every crime scene."

"It's my job."

"You seem to be doing it better than any of your coworkers."

"People should be thanking me," Nathan says a bit angrily, unlocking a piece of his energy for you to analyze.

"Thank you," Gideon whispers.

You think just because I'm a security guard, I don't understand sarcasm?"

"Are you angry?"

"Get him angrier, Gideon," you say into your mic so that only he can hear it. "Whatever you're doing, it's working."

"I--I know how interrogation works."

"Do you lose your temper easily?"

"Is this fun for you?"

"No," Gideon whispers.

Hotch approaches you from the side, his face stoic as ever.

"He's lying, Hotch," you say and turn to him. "He killed them all. He'll run this thing to the ground before he confesses, so let's hope Gideon gets a response out of him that will trigger this urge."

"Yeah, let's hope."

"Was this too easy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I feel like there is more to this."

"Like what?"

"Another unsub."

Hotch leaves your side to talk to Emily who appears in the doorway while you focus on Tubbs and Gideon. Your team found a means of subduing the victim (the taser), a potential weapon (the knife), a source of displaced rage (his ex-wife), the stressor (the court document stating his wife gets full custody), evidence of a self-destructive spiral (his alcohol flasks and bottles), and trophies of his kills (the newspaper clippings). Everything points to him being the killer, but there is not a shred of evidence that can hold him here.

It's up to Gideon to get a confession out of him or else someone else might get killed.

"That looks like it hurts," Gideon says.

Nathan takes his nails out of his mouth nervously. He's bitten them down to the stubs.

"I've been under a lot of stress."

"The murders? Your job?"

"A lot of things."

"You keep clips of the murders on your wall," Gideon says, trying a different tactic.

"I'm working the case."

You take this opportunity to grab the case photos and walk into the interrogation room, catching Nathan's eyes. There is a look in his eyes that you can online assume he saves for the girls he wants to murder. You're not going to break in front of him, so he can try all he wants, but you're not going to show him that you're weak.

You set the crime scene photos on the desk all while holding eye contact with Nathan. Once you're done, you take your time in leaving the room, making sure he knows that you have him cornered. When you're gone, Gideon takes the photos and lays them out for him to see.

"You had a knife on you."

"We're not allowed guns."

"Are you allowed knives?" Nathan doesn't answer it, so Gideon shows the picture of the girl that he attempted to murder tonight. "She's pretty, isn't she? The girl you picked up tonight was a brunette."

"Oh, was she?"

"You're telling me you didn't notice? Do you like brunettes?"

"Used to. Not so much anymore. Why don't you charge me?"

Shit, he knows Gideon doesn't have any actual evidence or else he would have charged him by now. Nathan is playing this smart, and as long as he knows Gideon doesn't have a dime on his name, then he might walk out of here.

"Are you guilty?"

"Well, you seem to have already made up your mind that I am."

"I told you, you and I are just visiting."

"Right," Nathan scoffs.

"Do you really want to know what I think? I think you chew your cuticles to punish yourself over what your hands have been doing. I think you hate your ex-wife. I think you want to kill her, but you can't because she's the mother of your daughter, so you find girls who remind you of her and you kill them instead. You stab them over and over, because they deserve it. If not now, they will sooner or later. You're just saving someone else the nightmare later on. Then, you remember your daughter and how you're actually supposed to be looking after these girls. So, you feel bad, and you cross their arms over their chests to try to give them back some of their dignity."

You can see on Nathan's face that Gideon is 100% right. If Nathan doesn't confess now, then you know he won't ever.

"My job is protecting these girls."

"Like you can't protect your daughter?"

"I am a good father."

"Really? Why won't the judge let you see her?"

"I'm not gonna talk about that."

Nathan is getting more uncomfortable. This can go either one of two ways. He gets too uncomfortable that he confesses, or he plays this smart and lawyers up before he says something he regrets later.

"Why did you fail your police psychological evaluation?"

"I want a lawyer."

Looks like he chose door number two. All Gideon does is pack up the crime scene photos and leave the room, letting him stew in his own guilty thoughts and feelings. Well, there is no point in hanging around now because you have to wait until the lawyer gets here to decide what the police are going to do about Nathan.

"You know, I wouldn't mind some actual physical evidence," Derek says when you join him in the main room with Gideon.

"Do we have anything?" JJ asks since she didn't go with you to his apartment.

"The knife Tubbs had on him is inconclusive. The taser didn't have any prints on it, which I guarantee means we're not gonna get a DNA match either."

"I'll stop by the security offices. If Tubbs kept any trophies linking himself to the crimes, he might have kept them in his locker," Spencer says.

"I'll go with you," you say.

"No, let Reid do it. Go to the hotel. Check in. They're not gonna hold our rooms forever. We'll go in shifts," Derek says.

"Yeah, if we can even sleep," you sigh and grab your jacket.

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[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Could you do a hotchniss x daughter reader where they have a teen daughter and she sneakily has a boy over and aaron and Emily come back from a case and they catch him leaving her room and aaron goes into protective dad mode

Aaron Hotchner X Emily Prentiss X Teen Daughter reader

Request: Could you do a hotchniss x daughter reader where they have a teen daughter and she sneakily has a boy over and aaron and Emily come back from a case and they catch him leaving her room and aaron goes into protective dad mode 

Third person pov...

Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss had just returned from a particularly intense case in upstate New York. As they stepped off the plane, both agents were exhausted and eager to get back to their home in Virginia.

Little did they know, they were about to face one of their toughest challenges yet - parenting a teenage daughter.

Currently 16 year old Y/N was home alone, not entirely alone she had invited over her boyfriend, David to watch a movie knowing her parents would be on their way home.

They had already called to let her know they would be landing soon, the two had lots of fun spending the day together doing nothing but watching movies and raiding the kichen for snacks.

"Thank God we're back" Emily sighed as they made their way off the jet "I can't wait to sleep in my own bed."

Aaron chuckled, 'You and me both. I just hope our daughter hasn't wrecked the house while we were gone.'

Emily shot him a look, 'Our daughter is a responsible young lady. I'm sure she's been just fine without us.'

Say8ng goodbye to the rest of thw team they got into their car and drove home, but as they walked through the front door of their home.

They were met with a sight that made both of their hearts sink. In the living room, their 16-year-old daughter, Y/N, was cuddled up on the couch with a boy.

Aaron's eyes narrowed in an instant, and Emily could feel his protective instincts on high alert. The couple slowly made their way into the room, trying not to disturb the teenagers who were watching a movie.

As they got closer, they could see that the boy was not just any boy. It was David, a troublemaker from Y/N's school who they had explicitly told her to stay away from.

The teens where cuddled under a blanket, infront of them on thr coffee table were snacks and drinks, playing on the TV was (Favourite movie) Y/N never watches her favourite movie with just anyone.

The black haired woman looks at her husband and could reqd his mind, "Aaron" Emily whispered, trying to calm him down. 'Let's just talk to her." She took his hand in hers and held it.

This made the man relax slightly but a murderous look still on his face.

But before they could say anything, the movie ended and David stood up to leave, Y/N gave him a smile and stood up to hug and kiss him goodbye and sat back down on the sofa, neither teen had seen the two adults in the doorway.

The boy had a love sick grin on his face As he walked towards the door, Aaron stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"What are you doing here?" Aaron's voice was low and menacing.

David, who previously exuded confidence, now looked like a deer caught in headlights. He mumbled something incoherent and quickly scrambled out of the house.

Emily took a deep breath and turned to her daughter, who was now standing, she had jumped up from the sofa when she hear heard her dad shout, she looked scared and guilty.

Emily crossed her arms and looked at her daughte "What were you thinking, Y/N?" She said, trying to keep her voice calm.

Y/N nervously played with her hands, not looling up at her parents and thwir disapointed look, "I'm sorry" Y/N replied, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I just really like him, and I knew you wouldn't approve" she sais tears running down her face.

Aaron let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "That doesn't change the fact that we specifically forbid you from seeing him. He's not a good influence, and you know that"

Y/N shook her head, surprising her parents. "But he's not! He's actually really sweet and not at all like he appears! You always told me not to judge people and here you are doing it!" The teen yells.

She collapses onto the sofa her head in her arms. The adults looked at each other before at their cryjng daughter, they had judged the boy by appearences like she said.

Emily sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry Honey, you arw right we did judge him but appearance, but it still doesn't make if okay for you to sneak boys inside" she explains to the girl gently.

"Really" Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears. Aaron knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "We love you, Y/N. We just want what's best for you" he says gently to the girl.

Y/N nodded, "I promise, he isn't all that bad, just meet him yourself and you'll see!" She insisted.

The two look at each other then back down at their daughter. She does have a point they don't know anything about the boy.

Aaron sighed at the look his wife gave him. "Okay, we will get to know him, but if he hurts you in anyway tell him I've got a gun and knkw how to use it" Says Aaron a not happy smile on his face.

This made the girl laugh, Emily shakes her head at her husband. The couple hugged their daughter and assured her that she was forgiven.

As they talked and cuddled on the couch, Aaron couldn't help but feel grateful for his daughter's honesty and decided to trust her.

'We're going to have to keep a closer eye on her,' Emily said, sipping her tea. 'She's still young, and we can't afford to let her make mistakes like this.'

Aaron nodded, 'I know. It's just hard to believe that our little girl is already sneaking boys into her room.'

Emily chuckled, 'We were teenagers once too, Aaron. We can't expect her to be perfect. We just have to guide her and hope that she learns from her mistakes.'

As they sat in comfortable silence, both agents were reminded of the challenges of being parents to a teenager. But they also knew that they were a strong team and would do anything to protect their daughter, even if it meant going into protective dad mode every now and then.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, sorry for thr wait on this request. As usual sorry for grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count : 1133

[ssa-thotchnerr]

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Pairing/s: Emily Prentiss x Daughter!reader, Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!reader, Emily Prentiss x Aaron Hotchner

Warnings: character death, angst, child loss, mentions of injury (nothing graphic)

Summary: Emily and Hotch deal with the loss of their daughter.

A/N: This is angst :) like very very angsty :)

—

The house was deadly silent ever since the incident.

Oh god, the incident.

It had been 4 days since your incident, and 4 days since you’d died. An Unsub had nabbed you while walking home from school, and by the time the team had found you, your injuries were too severe. Emily and Hotch had begged you to stay awake, to not close your eyes. But when you got to the hospital, your injuries proved too severe for you to be able to recover from.

When they pronounced you dead, Hotch and Emily had felt huge parts of them die with you.

They weren’t even lucky enough to be able to say goodbye to you.

In the long, painfully excruciating 96 hours since your death, Hotch and Emily hadn’t spoken a word to each other. Every time one of them tried to say something, the words didn’t come out. They just didn’t. The house being so silent would never be something either parent would get used to. To never hear your sometimes annoyingly loud music playing from upstairs, to never hear you yelling at your TV over a show again, God, it fucking killed them.

And everyone was sorry.

Everyone was so fucking sorry for their loss. Emily swore if she heard someone tell her that one more time she’d scream. ‘Sorry’ wouldn’t bring her child back, sorry couldn’t fix any of this. As much as it killed Hotch to do it, he knew Emily would never be able to organise your funeral. Emily never had it in her to go into your room. All of your things were the same as you left them the day you’d gone missing, save for the teddy Hotch took from your bed to keep with him.

They were both on bereavement leave from work, but from what Rossi had told Hotch, everyone was thinking of them. Hotch tried his hardest to remain stoic for Emily, but when she wasn’t there, it all came out.

His baby girl was gone, and he was never going to see her again.

Planning your funeral killed him. He didn’t understand how he was supposed to plan his own child’s funeral, and be perfectly okay with doing so. He had to pick our pictures of you, there were so many he didn’t know which ones to choose, but ultimately ended up going with your most recent school photo. Your smile was so big in that picture, given the fact you’d just gotten your braces off after complaining for the full two years you’d had them on. The people at the funeral home were considerate enough, they let him be upset without being judged, after all, he’d just lost his child. After sorting everything there, Hotch returned home, where your shoes still lay by the door.

“Emily? I’m home,” Hotch’s voice trailed off as he came into the living room, looking up at the TV to see videos of you as a baby playing. “Emily…” He heard her sniffling as she cuddled one of your teddies, choking on a sob as she heard you call her mama.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without her Aaron,” she sobbed, clutching your teddy closer. Hotch sat down beside her. It was the first time Emily had broken down over your death, and Hotch too could feel himself cracking. Watching you on the screen, so young and carefree, unaware of the cruel fate that awaited you. “I want her back.”

That moment made Hotch realise that this was real. You were gone, you were never going to come home, and that they’d have to live the rest of their lives without their child. He didn’t realise that he was avoiding thinking of the fact that you were actually gone, he couldn’t bare to think of it.

But now it was all he could think of.

[oneshotnewbie]

Hello! I hope you're well :)

Would you so kindly be able to do an Emily Prentiss x victim child!reader where reader is kind of young, maybe like between 6-10 and they've been held captive by the UnSub for weeks now and when the team finally finds the location, reader has gone mute and very cautious/scared of everyone and only allows (to an extent) Emily near them? Since she's the one who first finds them? Emily is very patient and comforts reader even if they don't speak and such. But reader eventually becomes comfortable enough to speak again, using short sentences and few words with Emily (maybe even some other team members, too).

Emily could possibly take them in but that part can be up to you!

I can't wait to see more of your work btw, you're so good!! Thx! Xoxo 💘

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topics of abuse, trauma, child neglecting, punishments and the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Authors note: I have tried my best to accommodate this request. I have to say that I changed the request a little because I didn't want to write a 6 year old child being kidnapped by a stranger, so I just had to do it with the father who has a criminal record. I also had to shorten it and basically skip a period of time in order to fulfill the second part of the request. I hope it is still okay. Also had to split it into two parts, Tumblr wouldn't let me post it all at once ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

Walls. Excessive tightness.

You did not know how long you had been in that closet, and you did not want to know either. Far too exhausted from all the panic attacks and the walls threatening to crush you. Your stomach was growling like it had been ever since your father decided to punish you for everything you did.

Your hands were shaking, your eyes were glassy, but you were long past crying. That only made things worse. Your father knew no mercy, and certainly not for his scared and crying little daughter.

Sometimes you imagined what it would be like if you actually suffocated in that closet. Better to suffocate from the reducing air than to be suffocated by your own father. You would not grow old, you would not reach the age of 10. You were sure of that. You were convinced that something would happen to you before your next birthday. But so far you had gotten older every year and every birthday you were sure that it would be your last.

Your father would not let you sleep in your bed anymore, but at least today it was in the closet and not in the gazebo that you had to sleep in. It was late autumn and in the arbor, the roof of which had tiny holes, there was a risk of hypothermia and finally freezing to death. Your hand, which was squeezed between the closet door and your thigh, had now fallen asleep and despite your constant shaking, you felt immensely hot. You noticed your face starting to glow again- you had a fever from the cold that blew through the room at night. You carefully pulled your hand out from under your leg, hitting your head on one of the wooden insert panels of the shelves, causing a dull thud as it came loose and fell onto your body.

Your heart skipped a beat before stopping briefly, you squinted for a moment, hoping that the noise had gone unnoticed and that your father had disappeared from his guarding position in front of the closet and was downstairs in front of the TV. But then you heard footsteps, quiet and muffled through the ajar door and the wood that surrounded you. It sounded nothing like your father and his firm, jagged steps and you begged that you had not misheard and were now in for a lot of trouble.

The door creaked and your breathing became increasingly quicker. You did not mishear. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to calm yourself and prepare yourself for what was to come. If your father saw you so upset, he might keep you here longer or deny you food for the next few days.

The key turned in the lock that locked the two doors together and you heard them slowly open, but did not dare to look outside. The fear of provoking your father when you greedily gasped for fresh air and light was too great. You felt a slight breeze on your bare shoulders and cheeks. Still, you kept your eyes closed, hoping to avoid your fate.

Instead of your father's disapproving shouts and rough hands that would normally drag you out of the closet, there was only a careful, barely noticeable touch on your shoulder. When you raised your eyes, you saw a strange woman with black hair. "Hey, sweetie. I am from the police, you are safe now," the older woman's eyes were glassy. She seemed unsettled, as if she was afraid of breaking you with one wrong move, as if you were made of delicate mass. "You can come out now, your father can not hurt you anymore."

You nodded and a few moments later she had pulled you out of the closet, carefully and slowly so as not to hurt you, and immediately drawn you into her arms. You just let it happen, completely unable to understand that this was a foreign woman you were clinging to.

Your father had forbidden you from speaking to strangers and your fear of upsetting your dad was huge. But something about her voice made you give in. "I am Emily. What is your name?" she asked and rubbed your back soothingly, your courage to speak failing you. When the rest of her team stormed into the room a moment later and looked down at you in front of the open door, you panicked and shook yourself away from her before returning to the closet where you felt safe.

A hand signal directed to Derek and Hotch, they disappeared silently from the bare room with the remaining SWAT workers and left her alone with you. It took some time for you to gain confidence and crawl out of the wooden wardrobe again. The young woman had talked her head off with various topics in order to give you a feeling of reassurance.

You followed Emily's hand movements carefully, and at the sight of the little package of gummy bears, your mouth watered and your stomach began to make itself known. "Someone is really hungry!" She whispered and smiled softly before opening the small package and holding it out to you.

You carefully sat up, occasionally glancing at the door so that you could move back into the closet as quickly as possible in case of an emergency. But nothing happened. The black-haired woman pointed uncertainly but grinning at the package. "The green ones are my favorite. And what are yours?" you rummaged through the tiny package with your fingers until you held a red gummy bear between your fingers and showed it to her. "The red ones? Uhh, they are yummy!"

You jumped away while the first bite, she had raised her hand too quickly. She shook her head, swallowing hard. Emily had not thought for a split second. “Can I feel your forehead?”she asked after a short hesitation and you nodded, afraid of upsetting her like your father, granting her permission.

She gently placed her hand on your sweat-covered forehead. You were feverish. She slowly lowered her hand carefully again and watched you as you hesitantly gnawed on a gummy bear. Your father did not like it when you just wolfed down your food and often had taken it away when fell into a deep hunger.

Emily continued to watch you, her eyes sad and exhausted. You cocked your head, wondering if you had done something wrong. When your eyes met for a moment, you hesitantly reached for her free hand and placed her favorite gummy bear in her palm.

You found a kind of care and hope in her presence. Hope that you can still lead a normal life and never be locked in the closet by your father again. Emily caught the very first smile you gave her before you stood up and carefully fell into her arms. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" she giggled softly, her heart swelling and beginning to pound wildly.

"No,"

Surprisingly, she widened her eyes while keeping her mouth wide open. After hours spent in this cold room with only forensics downstairs doing their work, she had finally managed to hear your gentle and childlike voice.

[letarasstuff]

Misunderstanding or wrong language?

(A/N): This fic is based on this late night thought I had. I really had fun writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it :) Any necessary translations that aren’t explained over the course of the fic are put down at the end.

Summary: Out of all sudden Spencer’s daughter is able to speak a different language. Where does she know it from?

Wordcount: 1.1k

✨Masterlist✨ ______________________________

Spencer is set on a calm morning with his daughter. He wakes her up and prepares her breakfast, a bowl of cereals, like any other morning he is at home. As the father pours the milk, (Y/N) sits down at the kitchen table.

“Here you go Sweetheart. Bon appetit”, he says in a terrible faked French accent and puts the bowl and a spoon in front of her. “Danke, Daddy.” Without even sparring him a look (Y/N) dugs right into her breakfast.

Spencer freezes for a moment. Did he misheard it or did she mispronounce the word? “What did you say, Sweetie?” He takes a seat next to his daughter and watches her curiously. “I said ‘thanks’”, she answers with her mouth full. “Baby, we don’t talk while we eat. You can after you swallowed, alright?”

The little girl nods and continues to devour her meal.

Later that morning both of them stand in front of the little one’s classroom. Spencer crouches down in front of her. “Ok Sweetheart. Have fun and be nice to your teacher and the other students. I love you.” Then he hugs her. “Have fun at work. Ich habe dich auch lieb”, she whispers into his ear.

Before the father is able to ask her about it, (Y/N) lets go and runs into her classroom. She instantly sits down at the book corner and begins to read. Spencer smiles at that sigh and makes his way out of the building to the metro.

As soon as he gets into the office, he searches for a certain black haired woman. “Emily”, he says breathlessly while entering the kitchen, “How much do you know about European languages?” Confused Prentiss looks up from the coffee machine, at which she stared for several minutes already. Mornings are rough.

“My knowledge is big, but I don’t think it meets yours. Or is the great genius suddenly at a loss?” She teases the young doctor. But this doesn’t bother him. “I have quite an extensive knowledge on that subject, but I can’t speak any except for English. But I know for a fact that you do and I have a suspicion. That’s why I am asking you: When you hear any European language, can you tell which one it is?”

Emily arches an eyebrow. “I guess. I don’t know all languages and I’m not sure if I can point at one, because it’s hard for me to differentiate between the several Scandinavian ones and between the eastern languages. But give me an example and I see what I can do.”

Spencer takes a deep breath and recites what his daughter told him over the course of the morning. “Danke. Ich habe dich lieb.”

The other agent mulls over the words for a few moments before answering: “This is German. It means ‘Thanks. I love you’. Where did you hear that?” “(Y/N) said it to me today. I don’t know where she learned it, but I had to know what it was at first before asking her. Thank you for your help, Emily.”

The rest of his work day consists of filling out one report after another, drinking copious amounts of coffee and wondering about where his daughter learned German phrases. Luckily for him he gets done with today’s workload earlier and Hotch dismisses him sooner than expected. That means he is able to pick (Y/N) up from preschool herself, calling off the babysitter.

“PAPAAAA”, screams his child excitedly as soon as she spots him. Suddenly a small weight collides against his legs. Spencer pets her head, smiling at his daughter.

“Hello Doctor Reid. Are you able to spare a few minutes?” Her teacher asks hesitantly. Confused, he nods and sends (Y/N) off to play for a bit.

“Thank you for your time, I appreciate it. Uhm, I noticed that (Y/N) began speaking in a foreign language, I don’t know which, and I really support you teaching her. But a little heads up would’ve been nice, because I don’t understand what she is saying since she switches between it and English constantly and then (Y/N) gets frustrated by repeating herself to me and the other children. So I advise you to work on the conscious use of one language or another, it’s in your daughter’s and your interest.” Spencer looks dumbfounded at the teacher.

“Uh, I didn’t know (Y/N) is fluent in German since this morning. She suddenly began speaking it and I’m not sure she knows it from. But thank you for pointing the problem out, I’ll take care of it.” After biding their goodbyes, Spencer takes his daughter home.

They play together with legos, then the young doctor reads to her. (Y/N) sits on his lap with her head on his chest. “Ok Sweetie”, Spencer says as he moves her down beside him, ”I’m going to make dinner. Do you want to continue that book on your own or do you want to watch TV for a bit?”

“Can you put on Dora the Explorer? But the one from last night? I really like her new voice”, she asks her father. “Sweetheart what do you mean? Dora doesn’t have a new voice.” Spencer slowly thinks he gets to the reason for her sudden bilinguality.

“Of course she does, Daddy. She sounds like this: ‘Swiper nicht klauen! Swiper nicht klauen! Swiper nicht klauen’!” All at once he understands it. Spencer accidentally put on Dora with the German dubbing and since there are English elements and it’s a kids show, she was able to understand it. All the things shown there are pretty easy to understand.

“Sweetheart, Daddy did there something yesterday and I need you to listen to me closely. The Dora you watched yesterday was a different one from the one you always watch. She spoke another language, this is what you mean by a new voice.” The rest of the evening Reid tries to explain the concept of different languages to his daughter and its meaning.

“Daddy”, she asks him in the end as he puts her to bed, “Can I still learn German? I really like it.” It makes him happy to see her taking a liking in something, even though it’s different from what he likes. He is ready to support anything (Y/N) does or wants to do.

“Of course, if you want to. I’m gonna get you enrolled in a class tomorrow. But now it’s time to sleep for geniuses. Good night, my little genius. I love you.”

“Gute Nacht, Daddy. Ich habe dich auch lieb.” Even though he really doesn’t have much of a clue what she just said, Spencer loves to hear it.

Translation: Swiper nicht klauen → Swiper, don’t steal Gute Nacht → Good night

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

･*:.｡.─_*✧.｡.:*･# ﾟ𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ﾐ

This is a list of fandoms and characters that I write for, I might add more later or take away some, but for the moment I write for all of these

I will always write for Marvel, Superntaural and Star Wars

Requests are always open If you want to request you can either private message me or just write in my inbox

I write: teen!reader, gn!reader, platonic!reader, sister!reader, adopted!reader, brother!reader, son!reader, daughter!reader,

I also write for lgbtq+ so you can request with anything from that

I can also write romantic but I usually prefer platonic

I can write nearly everything except I do not write smut so if that’s what you want it’s better if you go somewhere else

*✧.｡.:*･# MARVEL ﾐ

— all characters from marvel but below is the ones I prefer

— avengers [ steve rogers, tony stark, clint barton, natasha romanoff, bruce banner, thor ]

— falcon and the winter soldier [ sam wilson, bucky barnes, baron zemo ]

— moon knight [ marc spector, steven grant, jake lockley, layla el-faouly, konshu ]

— kate bishop

— yelena belova

— loki

— guardians of the galaxy [ peter quill, gamora, rocket raccoon, nebula, yondu ]

— daredevil [ matt murdock, foggy nelson, karen page ]

— punisher [ frank castle, billy russo ]

— venom [ eddie brock, venom ]

— miguel o’hara (spider-man 2099)

— jack russell/werewolf by night

— x-men [ logan howlett, erik lensherr, charles xaviar, deadpool, scott summers, alex summers, mystique, beast ]

— marvel cast [ all cast members from mcu ]

*✧.｡.:*･# SUPERNATURAL ﾐ

— castiel

— dean winchester

— sam winchester

— crowley

— lucifer

— jack kline

— gabriel

— the supernatural cast [ all cast members ]

*✧.｡.:*･# STAR WARS ﾐ

— prequel [ obi-wan kenobi, ahsoka tano, anakin skywalker, cody, rex, fives, fox, wolfee, waxer, boil, (pretty much all clones tbh), kit fisto, darth maul ]

— bad batch [ hunter, tech, crosshair, wrecker, omega, echo ]

— star wars rebels [ kanan, hera, sabine wren, ezra bridger, zebb ]

— reva sevander

— cassian andor

— mandalorian [ din djarin, grogu, bo katan ]

— the book of boba fett [ boba fett, fennec shand]

— sequel [ poe dameron, finn, bb-8 ]

— Pedro Pascal

— Oscar Isaac

*✧.｡.:*･# TOLKIEN ﾐ

— lord of the rings [ aragorn, legolas, faramir, meriadoc brandybuck, peregrin took, samwise gamgee, frodo baggins, boromir, gimli, elrond, gandalf ]

— hobbit [ bilbo baggins, thorin, kili, fili, (pretty much all dwarves tbh), bard, tauriel ]

*✧.｡.:*･# THE WALKING DEAD ﾐ

— rick grimes

— daryl dixon

— glenn rhee

— maggie rhee

— aaron

— gabriel stokes

— jesus

— mishonne

— carol peletier

— carl grimes

— judith grimes

— negan

*✧.｡.:*･# THE ROOKIE ﾐ (will come more soon)

— tim bradford

— lucy chen

— angela lopez

— wesley evers

— tamara collins

*✧.｡.:*･# CRIMINAL MINDS ﾐ

— aaron hotchner

— spencer reid

— derek morgan

— penelope garcia

— david rossi

— jennifer Jareau

— luke alvez

— emily prentiss

*✧.｡.:*･# HANNIBAL NBC ﾐ

— will graham <3

— hannibal lecter

*✧.｡.:*･# HARRY POTTER ﾐ

— golden trio era [ remus lupin, sirius black, harry potter, hermione granger, luna lovegood, fred weasley, george weasley, oliver wood, neville longbottom, draco malfoy ]

— fantastic beasts [ newt scamander, young albus dumbledore, gellert grindelwald, theseus scamander ]

*✧.｡.:*･# OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH ﾐ (will add more later)

— izzy hands <3

— jim jimenez

— edward

— frenchie

— stede

*✧.｡.:*･# SHERLOCK ﾐ (not taking requests for at the moment)

— greg lestrade

— sherlock holmes

— john watson

*✧.｡.:*･# THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY ﾐ

— diego hargreeves

— klaus hargreeves

— ben hargreeves

— viktor hargreeves

*✧.｡.:*･# HEARTSTOPPER ﾐ

— nick nelson

— charlie spring

— isaac henderson

— imogen heaney

— tao xu

— elle argent

— darcy olsson

— tara jones

*✧.｡.:*･# ARROWVERSE ﾐ

— arrow [ oliver queen, thea queen, roy harper, felicity smoak, john diggle, slade wilson ]

— flash [ barry allen, harry wells, harrison wells, HR, cisco ramon, caitlin snow, wally west, eddie thawne ]

— legends of tomorrow [ john constantine, sara lance, rip hunter, leonard snart, ]

*✧.｡.:*･# DOWNTON ABBEY ﾐ

— thomas barrow

— tom branson

— matthew crawley

— sybil crawley

-*✧.｡.:*･# DRAGON AGE ﾐ

— dragon age origin [ morrigan, alistair ]

— dragon age II [ hawke ]

— dragon age inquisition [ dorian pavus, cole, iron bull, sera, varric tethras, blackwall, cullen rutherford, leliana, josephine montilyet, solas ]

— dragon age veilguard [ lucanis dellamorte, bellara lutare, taash, davrin, lace harding, emmrich volkarin, neve gallus, viago de riva, teia cantori ]

*✧.｡.:*･# FATE: THE WINX SAGA ﾐ

— saul silva

— beatrix

— stella

— musa

— riven

— sky

— andreas

*✧.｡.:*･# ONCE UPON A TIME ﾐ

— killian jones

*✧.｡.:*･# PEAKY BLINDERS ﾐ

— alfie solomons

— thomas shelby

— ada thorne

— arthur shelby

— john shelby

— polly gray

— michael gray

*✧.｡.:*･# THE LAST OF US ﾐ (only platonic for now)

— Joel Miller

— Ellie Williams

-*✧.｡.:*･# NEW AMSTERDAM ﾐ (only platonic for now)

— Max Goodwin

*✧.｡.:*･# THE RESIDENT ﾐ (will be adding more)

— conrad hawkins

*✧.｡.:*･# WALKER ﾐ

— liam walker

— cordell walker

— stella walker

— august walker

— trey barnett

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