#spencer x jones!reader

[fanfics4all]

Crimson Ties

Request: Yes / No Ok, this might be kinda weird but I was thinking about reader being being FP Jones's oldest daughter (she's around 25 to 26) being in the BAU and dating Spencer. They go to Riverdale for a case and Spencer originally didn't really think about meeting readers' parents at all. But when he gets there he has to work with the new sheriff... FP and is terrified the entire time. If not that's ok Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Jones!Reader 

Word count: 1546

Warnings: Mentions of murder but nothing specific 

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

A/N: I love this so much tbh, I really might do a part 2

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Growing up in Riverdale, I learned early on that I had two choices, let my circumstances define me or fight my way out. I chose the latter. Being FP Jones’ daughter came with baggage. The Serpents, the drinking, the unstable home life- I knew I had to work twice as hard to build something better for myself. I threw myself into school, determined to prove that I was more than just the daughter of a gang leader. 

By the time I made it to the FBI Academy, I had already perfected the art of pushing through adversity. Long nights of studying and grueling physical training, but I never backed down. When I was recruited into the BAU at twenty-four, it felt like all of my sacrifices had finally been worth it. The BAU was everything I had worked for, but it was also more than I expected. The cases were brutal, the weight of each victim’s story pressing against my chest. But the team? They became my family. 

And then there was Spencer Reid. 

At first, he was just my colleague- the genius with an eidetic memory and an endearing ability to ramble about statistics and obscure literature. I had never met someone like him before. He saw the world in numbers and theories, but at the same time, he had this overwhelming kindness that made it impossible not to be drawn to him. 

We started as friends. Coffee breaks turned into late-night case discussions, which turned into inside jokes and shared book recommendations. I wasn’t sure when my feelings for him changed, but one day, I caught myself looking forward to seeing him more than anyone else. I started noticing the way his face lit up when he talked about something he loved, the way he would always make sure I ate during long cases, the way he never pried into my past but somehow understood me anyway. 

And then one night, after a particularly rough case, Spencer blurted out something about the statistical probability of workplace relationships working out. I remember raising an eyebrow at him, realizing what he was trying to say, and before he could spiral into another nervous rant, I kissed him. 

Now, two years into my career at the BAU, I had more than just a job I was proud of, I had him. Spencer, with his never-ending knowledge and his gentle heart, was the best thing I never saw coming. He’d read to me after long days, his voice a comforting lullaby in a world full of chaos. I taught him how to ride a motorcycle, laughing when he hesitated before finally getting the hang of it. I had spent my whole life trying to outrun Riverdale, but with Spencer, I finally understood- I didn’t have to run anymore.

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

I was just about to head home for the night when my phone buzzed. The name on the screen made my stomach tighten- Daddy. 

Dad and I had come a long way from the messy, broken relationship we once had. After years of struggling with addiction and gang life, he’d finally turned things around, earning back Jughead and Jellybeans’ trust and even becoming sheriff of Riverdale. I was proud of him. But he rarely called unless it was serious 

I answered immediately. “Daddy? What’s wrong?”

His voice was gruff, but there was an unmistakable edge of worry beneath it. 

“Y/N/N, I need your help.” Those five words made my heart skip a beat. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, gripping the edge of my desk. 

He sighed. “We’ve got a situation here. A couple murders, four bodies so far, and all killed the same way. Small town like this? We ain’t equipped for somethin’ like this. I need the BAU, Y/N. And…” He hesitated, then added. “I need you.” 

I swallowed hard. I had spent years distancing myself from Riverdale, trying to build a new life away from the ghosts of my past. But no matter how far I went, it was still my hometown. My Dad was still my Dad, and my younger siblings- Juggie and JB- they were still there. If there was a killer on the loose, I needed to do something. 

“Email me everything you have.” I told him. “I’ll bring it up to my boss.” 

“Thank you, Princess.” Dad’s voice softened, a rare moment of vulnerability. 

“I know comin’ back won’t be easy, but… I trust you.” 

After we hung up, I took a deep breath and opened my laptop. A few minutes later, an email from Dad came through, containing crim scene photos, coroner reports, and his own notes. I scrolled through the images, my stomach twisting at the brutality. The unsub was organized and calculated. This wasn’t just random violence, this was methodical. I printed out the file and headed straight for Hotch’s office. Knocking twice, I stepped in. 

“Agent Jones.” He acknowledged, looking up from his paperwork. 

“Sir, I just got off the phone with my Dad, FP Jones, sheriff of Riverdale. They have an active serial murder case. Four victims, same MO. He’s requesting the BAU’s assistance.” I placed the file on his desk. 

Hotch opened it, flipping through the images with the sharp gaze of someone who had seen too many horrors. He didn’t speak for a moment, analyzing the details before finally looking up. 

“I’ll have Garcia pull everything she can. If what your Father says is accurate, we should be there as soon as possible.” He closed the file and handed it back to me. 

“Gather the team, please.” 

I nodded, turning to leave, but his voice stopped me. 

“Jones.” He said, his tone softer. “This is personal for you. If at any point you need to step back, let me know.” 

I met his gaze and gave a small, determined nod. “I appreciate it, sir. But I can handle it.” 

As I walked out, I quickly made my way through the bullpen. First stop, Morgan. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” He greeted me, leaning back in his chair. “What’s up?” 

“We’ve got a case.” 

His expression sobered immediately. “Where?” 

I hesitated for only a second before saying. “Riverdale.” 

His eyebrows shot up. “Your hometown?” 

I just nodded, already moving to find the others. Within minutes, I had gathered Emily, JJ, Rossi, and Spencer, quickly briefing them on what I knew. As expected, Spencer’s brow furrowed in concern when he realized where we were headed. 

“Y/N… are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

I took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I don’t really have a choice. My family is there.” 

That was all the explanation they needed. Hotch returned a moment later. 

“Garcia’s pulling everything now. Wheels up in thirty.” 

The jet hummed softly as we settled in for the flight to Riverdale. Spencer sat beside me, his knee bouncing slightly, a telltale sign of his nerves. I reached over, placing a hand over his, and he immediately stilled, though I could feel the tension in his fingers. 

“You okay?” I asked, tilting my head to meet his eyes. 

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… your father used to be a gang leader. And your brother is now the leader of that same gang. And your little sister grew up around all of that. There’s a statistical probability of-” 

I squeezed his hand. “Spence, they’re not gonna bite.” I smirked. “Okay, maybe Jughead will give you a hard time, but he’s all talk.” 

“Jughead?” JJ asked. 

“It’s a nickname.” I shrugged. 

Morgan, who had been listening in, chuckled. “Kid, you realize you’re about to meet a family that survived gang wars, corrupt mayors, and serial killers, right? You might be a genius, but I don’t know if that brain of yours is gonna save you from this one.” 

Emily smirked. “Y/N’s family is basically the Riverdale Mafia.” 

“Hey! We ain’t the Lodges!” I protested, but even JJ was laughing at this point. 

Rossi leaned back in his seat, a knowing smile on his face. “I give it ten minutes before your Father pulled him aside for a ‘friendly’ chat about how he’ll bury you in the woods if you hurt his daughter.” 

Spencer paled. “I-I would never hurt her.” 

“Good answer.” Emily teased. “But you might want to tell FP that before he comes after you with a shotgun.” 

I rolled my eyes. “You guys are the worst.” 

Morgan leaned forward, grinning at me. “I still can’t believe you were a biker babe in your teens. You, all studious and determined in the Academy, and meanwhile, you used to ride around town like some kind of rebel?” 

“I had layers.” I said dramatically, flipping my hair over my shoulder. 

“And for the record, I still have my bike.” 

Morgan let out a low whistle. “Damn, pretty girl. Now I really want to see the old you in action.” 

Spencer groaned softly, muttering something about how my family was definitely going to eat him alive. I just leaned in and kissed his cheek, whispering. 

“Relax. They’re gonna love you.” 

Even if he didn’t believe me yet, I knew the moment they saw how much he meant to me, my family would accept him... Well, after Dad gave him ‘the talk’. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl 

[ellzbellz18]

How I feel after crying over a literal x reader fanfic

[earthtomia]

fic recs!

(all fics are x reader; specific characters below the cut)

╰┈➤ all time favourites! <3

╰┈➤ smut recs! 18+ ONLY

please respect the writers and do not interact with any content marked 18+ if you are a minor, thank you!

challengers (2024):

➸ art donaldson

➸ patrick zweig

criminal minds:

➸ aaron hotchner

➸ spencer reid

house md:

➸ gregory house

➸ james wilson

➸ robert chase

marauders:

➸ james potter

➸ remus lupin

➸ sirius black

marvel:

➸ bucky barnes

➸ matt murdock

➸ mcu!peter parker

➸ tasm!peter parker

star wars:

➸ din djarin

➸ han solo

stranger things:

➸ eddie munson

➸ jonathan byers

➸ robin buckley

➸ steve harrington

supernatural:

➸ dean winchester

➸ sam winchester

miscellaneous characters:

➸ carmen berzatto (the bear)

➸ fox mulder (the x files)

➸ indiana jones

➸ joel miller (the last of us)

➸ lip gallagher (shameless)

➸ rafe cameron (outer banks)

➸ rodrick heffley (diary of a wimpy kid)

➸ thomas shelby (peaky blinders)

[ama0310]

Silver Springs (S.R)

Character: Spencer Reid

Requested: No

Type: Angst

Summary: A chance encounter during a murder investigation forces Spencer to confront his past when he comes face-to-face with Y/N, his ex-girlfriend and new victim, rekindling old feelings and tensions.

AN: It's basically Daisy Jones & the Six meets Criminal Minds type of vibe.

"Another day, another case."

Spencer Reid had grown accustomed to the relentless pace of his work with the BAU. Evil, it seemed, never took a day off.

This explained why he now found himself en route to interview the latest victim, accompanied by Morgan.

Four murders in two weeks, and the body count showed no signs of slowing. All signs pointed to a disturbing connection within the music industry. The first two victims were singers, their vocal cords savagely ripped out. The third, a guitarist, had his hands severed. The most recent victim, a band manager, had his eyes gouged out in a grotesque display of violence.

As they walked briskly down the bustling Nashville street, Morgan voiced his frustration. "I can't wrap my head around why each murder was so different. It's like we're dealing with a completely new MO each time."

Reid's brilliant mind was already piecing together the puzzle. "Actually, there's a twisted logic to it," he explained, his words tumbling out rapidly. "Each mutilation corresponds to the victim's role in the industry. Singers silenced, a guitarist robbed of his ability to play, and a manager blinded, unable to oversee his clients. The unsub is targeting what makes each victim valuable in their profession."

"Do we know who we're meeting?" Reid inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Morgan nodded, consulting the notes from their technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. "Her stage name is Y/S/N, twenty-six years old. She's the lead singer of a band called The Springs. The band's manager reported an attempted abduction last night. She fits our victim profile perfectly: female, location in Nashville, related to a band. This is our first witness, Reid. She could be our key to catching this guy."

As they entered the recording studio, a frazzled assistant greeted them. "Hi, I'm Cary, the manager's assistant. Thank you so much for coming! Jason has been a nervous wreck. Please, follow me."

Morgan took the lead, his FBI credentials at the ready. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We need to speak with Y/S/N as soon as possible."

Cary nodded, guiding them towards a red door. With each step, the muffled sound of music grew louder, and a hauntingly beautiful voice became clearer.

"The band is actually recording their latest song right now," Cary explained in a hushed tone. "You'll need to be quiet, but the manager will brief you further."

As they approached the studio, the lyrics washed over them:

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

A chill ran up Reid's spine. Something about that voice tugged at his memory, but before he could place it, he collided with Morgan's back.

A man stood before them, his face etched with worry. "Thank you for coming. I'm Jason, the band's manager. I wanted to take her straight to the police station, but she insisted on—" His eyes widened in recognition. "Spencer?"

Reid froze, suddenly face-to-face with a ghost from his past. "Uh, hi?" he managed, his usual social awkwardness winning again. How does one greet their ex-girlfriend's best friend after years of silence?

Morgan, sensing the tension, stepped between them. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We're here to speak with Y/S/N."

Jason's eyes darted between the two agents, his expression hardening. "Actually, I'd prefer if he wasn't here," he said, gesturing to Reid. "No offense, but I don't think it's wise for either of you to cross paths again."

Morgan, though confused by the unexpected connection, maintained his professional demeanor. "With all due respect, Dr. Reid and I work as a team. We both need to speak with Y/S/N to conduct a thorough investigation."

As the two men argued, Reid's gaze drifted to the recording booth. Through the glass, he caught sight of the band, and his breath caught in his throat. There, at the microphone, stood a face he thought he'd never see again—a face that to this day still haunts his most amazing dreams. 

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you Give me just a chance

The lyrics pierced through Spencer Reid's carefully constructed walls, flooding his mind with memories he'd long tried to suppress. He was transported back to a time when life held more than just case files and criminal profiles—a time when he had someone to come home to, when he felt truly free rather than trapped within the labyrinth of his own brilliant mind. A time when he and Y/N L/N couldn't imagine a life without each other.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Despite his best efforts, Spencer's heart threatened to burst from his chest, yearning to reunite with its other half. For that was what Y/N had been—his perfect complement. They had met when she was seventeen and he was nineteen, initially friends until, two years later, they could no longer deny the intensity of their feelings.

Their love had been a force of nature—intense, pure, raw, and undeniably real. Until life's cruel realities came knocking at their door.

Y/N was a free spirit, driven by her passion for music. She'd twirl until dizzy, her long hair a wild tangle, singing until her voice grew hoarse. Music moved her in a way nothing else could.

Meanwhile, Spencer was on the cusp of graduating from the FBI Academy, with whispers of a fast-track position in the prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Two paths diverging, leading to an impossible choice.

He did what he thought he had to do, breaking things off for both their sakes. He had run the probabilities, analyzed every scenario, and a happy outcome seemed frustratingly out of reach. They wanted different things, or so he had convinced himself.

That fateful night was seared into his memory. Y/N was about to leave for New York to meet with a record label—an opportunity that Jason, her best friend and now manager, had excitedly relayed during their date. Spencer saw the yearning in her eyes, the spark of a dream about to be realized. And so, he made the agonizing decision to end things.

Her tears, her desperate pleas, her hands clutching at him as he walked away—it all haunted him still.

Was I just a fool?

I'll follow you down 'till the sound of my voice will haunt you

Spencer watched, transfixed, as Y/N sang in the recording booth. She swayed to the rhythm, smiling at her bandmates, lost in the music. Everything about her still captivated him. Their relationship had been a bittersweet dream he never wanted to wake from.

Give me just a chance

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you

He stood rooted to the spot, oblivious to Derek's hand on his shoulder or the sudden silence as the band stopped playing. Then, Y/N turned towards the glass, and their eyes met for the first time in years. The world seemed to stop spinning.

Her gaze flicked to Jason, her expression morphing into a glare as she mouthed, "What the fuck?" The spell broken, she grabbed her bag and bolted through the back door.

Everyone sprang into action. Jason was the first to follow, with Derek close behind. Spencer remained frozen until his partner turned him around.

"Look, I don't know what history you have here," Derek said, his voice laced with concern and confusion, "but we have a job to do. If you can't handle this, go wait in the car. If you can, let's move." He pressed the car keys into Spencer's hand before chasing after Jason.

Against his better judgment, Spencer followed. A selfish part of him needed to be near her, even if it meant causing more chaos.

As he approached, he heard Y/N's voice, sharp with anger and pain. "I don't give a fuck if he's the president of the goddamn country. I'm not speaking to him. So you can either throw them out or let me leave."

Spencer rounded the corner to see Y/N already in her car, engine running, poised to flee.

"Look, Miss," Derek began, his voice firm but empathetic, "we can't let you go. You're the only survivor of this serial killer. If you don't talk to us, more people will die. Is that something you can live with?"

Jason, his arm still through the car window, pleaded with his client. "Come on, Y/N. You and I both know they're here to help. Let's get this over with, and then we can get you out of state within hours. This is for your safety and the safety of others."

Y/N's gaze flickered between her manager, the new agent, and Spencer, who was approaching hesitantly. With a heavy sigh and her heart in her throat, she turned off the ignition and moved to open the door, forcing Jason to step back.

"Get me a whiskey and a glass of milk," she demanded, grabbing her purse and striding back into the building without a glance at the agents.

Jason turned to Derek, his expression grave. "I strongly advise against having him there," he said, nodding towards Spencer. "As you can see, it won't end well if he's present."

Derek, still loyal to his partner, bristled at the suggestion. "And I advise you not to tell an FBI agent how to do his job. We've got it from here." He turned to Spencer, concern evident in his eyes. "Is he right? Should I listen to him?"

"No. I'm fine," Spencer insisted, though his tense posture suggested otherwise.

"And what about her?" Derek pressed, before noticing Carly, the assistant, anxiously tapping her foot nearby.

"She's in room 24, waiting for you," Carly informed them, pointing towards a door. "Um... good luck!"

As they entered the room, they found Y/N and Jason in the midst of a heated discussion.

"Everything alright?" Derek intervened, causing Y/N to roll her eyes dramatically.

"Yup, everything's perfect!" Jason's forced cheerfulness was palpable. "You guys can have a seat. I'll be right outside." He looked at Y/N sternly. "Be good. And tell them everything, please."

"Yes, Dad," Y/N replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she took a sip of whiskey. Once Jason left, she glanced between Derek and Spencer. "Well, are you going to sit down, or are we having a stand-up interview?"

Derek motioned for Spencer to sit beside him, both agents studying the woman before them. Y/N held a cigarette in one hand and whiskey in the other, while a glass of milk sat on the side table—an odd combination that spoke volumes about her state of mind.

"I'm Agent Morgan, and I believe you know Dr. Reid," Derek began cautiously. "We just have a few questions about what happened to you yesterday."

Y/N took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly before tapping it on the ashtray. "And what exactly do you want to know, Agent?"

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "Jason mentioned you survived a failed abduction. Can you walk us through what happened?"

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze fixed on Spencer with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. "We finished recording one of our songs yesterday, and the band wanted to go out for drinks. I was still hungover from the night before, so I decided to sit that one out." She took a gulp of whiskey, chasing it with milk in a bizarre ritual. "I stayed in the studio for a few hours, just writing. Around three a.m., I decided to head back to my hotel. I'd parked two blocks away, and as I approached, I noticed someone loitering near the parking lot entrance."

"Did you engage with him?" Derek interjected, earning an eye roll from Y/N.

"I'm not fucking stupid," she snapped. "I walked past as quickly as possible. He tried to talk to me, but I ignored him. Guess he didn't appreciate that, because the next thing I knew, he was behind me, trying to force a plastic bag over my head."

The room fell silent as the gravity of her words sank in. Spencer leaned forward, his analytical mind already piecing together the details. "Can you describe the attacker? Any distinguishing features, voice, or mannerisms?"

Y/N's eyes locked with Spencer's, a flicker of their shared past evident in her gaze before she quickly looked away. "He was tall, probably six feet or so. Muscular build. I didn't get a good look at his face, but his voice..." She paused, taking another drag of her cigarette. "His voice was deep, with a slight Southern drawl. Not local, though. Maybe Texas or Oklahoma."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "How did you manage to escape?"

They could see Y/N physically reliving the traumatic experience, her leg bouncing with increasing anxiety. The calm facade she had maintained began to crack under the weight of her memories.

"Hey, it's okay," Derek said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time."

For a moment, Y/N seemed to relax, but just as quickly, her emotional walls snapped back into place. She crushed out her cigarette and downed the rest of her whiskey in one swift motion.

"I'd heard about the murders before," she began, her voice steadier than her trembling hands. "Even before that, I always carried a pocket knife and pepper spray. Call it paranoia or just good sense in this industry." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I managed to scratch his left arm before kicking him. When he loosened his grip, I turned and pepper-sprayed him. Then I just... ran. Got to my car and drove straight hotel. That's when I called Jason."

Derek leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "And you didn't think to call the police?"

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "I wanted to forget about it," she snapped. "I was planning to leave anyway. Sometimes denial feels safer than facing reality."

"Yet you still came in to record a song right after that?" Spencer's quiet question drew her attention, earning him a look that was equal parts resentment and something harder to define.

"I have a job," Y/N replied, her tone clipped as she turned back to Derek. "We have an album coming out soon, and we needed to finish recording. We love working in Nashville, so yes, I wanted to get it over with and then leave. Music... it's always been my escape."

Spencer cleared his throat, treading carefully. "Can you describe anything else about him? Any details you remember?"

Y/N's gaze softened almost imperceptibly as she looked at Spencer. "I think he was wearing a blue sweater, but I'm not certain." She paused, her brow furrowing in concentration. "What I do remember clearly is his smell. It was... odd. Like scented candles, the kind you'd find at Bath & Body Works. It was strangely out of place, but unmistakable."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "Alright, thank you for your time, Y/N. Here's our contact information if you remember anything else or need assistance." He stood, extending his hand, which Y/N shook briefly. As he walked to the door, he noticed Spencer hadn't moved. "Spencer?"

Spencer glanced between Derek and Y/N, who was now staring at him intently. "Give me a second," he said quietly. "I'll meet you at the car."

Derek hesitated, giving Spencer a questioning look. The younger agent's eyes pleaded for understanding, for a moment alone with the woman who had once meant everything to him. With a slight nod, Derek acquiesced and left the room.

As the door closed, the air grew thick with unspoken words and years of regret. Spencer and Y/N sat in tense silence, neither quite ready to bridge the chasm between them.

Finally, Spencer spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I... I'm sorry. For everything. I know it doesn't change anything, but I need you to know that."

Y/N's carefully constructed mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of the pain she'd been carrying for years. "Why now, Spencer? After all this time?"

"Because I never stopped caring," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "And seeing you in danger..." He couldn't even finish that sentence. "Please, promise me you'll be careful. 

Y/N studied him for a long moment, conflict evident in her eyes so she does what she does best. Ignore it.  "Congratulations are in order, Mr. FBI," Y/N said sardonically, reaching for another cigarette. The acrid smell of tobacco filled the air, a scent that brought back a flood of memories for Spencer.

"Smoking causes about 90% of all lung cancer deaths," he recited, unable to stop himself. "More women die from lung cancer each year than from breast cancer." It was an old argument, one they'd had countless times before.

Y/N took a long, deliberate drag, exhaling slowly as if to challenge his statistics. "We're all meant to die one day, Spence," she said, her voice tinged with a familiar fatalism. "I always told you that."

Indeed, she had. It was her motto, her way of justifying living life to the fullest, consequences be damned.

"I thought you quit," Spencer said softly, his eyes fixed on the glowing ember of her cigarette. "When did you start again?"

"A few months after my twentieth birthday," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. "The record label signed us, and suddenly we went from doing a few covers a week to churning out originals every month. Needed a stress reliever."

Spencer studied her, noting the way she avoided his eyes. There was more to the story, he was certain. "Y/N/N," he said gently, using the old nickname that once came so easily to his lips, "are you okay?"

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Why would you assume I'm not?"

"Well," Spencer began, slipping into his analytical mode, "you drank that whiskey rather quickly. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you're flushed—signs of prolonged alcohol consumption. The fact that you're willing to record and drive in this state suggests it's become a habit. And then there's the cigarette addiction. So, naturally, I'm concerned about your well-being."

Silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken words and years of separation. Y/N broke first, standing abruptly and grabbing her purse. "I've told you what you needed to know," she said, her voice brittle. "I have to leave. Hopefully, Jason's already arranged my flight out of here."

As she turned to go, Spencer's hand shot out, catching her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through both of them—a spark of electricity, familiar yet now terrifyingly foreign.

Y/N's eyes traveled from his hand to his face. "Let go, Spencer," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

He couldn't. Not yet. Not when he'd finally found her again, when there was so much to explain, so much unfinished between them. But he also knew that Derek would come bursting through the door at any moment.

With reluctance, he released her wrist and pulled out a post-it note and pen from his bag. Hastily scribbling his number, he held it out to her. "Take it. Please. If you need anything—and I mean anything—call me, okay?"

Skepticism clouded Y/N's features. Did he really expect her to take his number, to even consider calling him after everything?

Seeing her hesitation, Spencer pressed on. "Look, Y/N, I know you have every reason not to trust me, to want me out of your life. But please, give me a chance to prove that I'll be there for you. We'll catch the guy who attacked you, and if you need help with anything else, anything at all, come to me. Please."

Y/N stared into his pleading eyes. A part of her recognized his sincerity, but the wounded 20-year-old inside her still ached from old betrayals.

With a resigned eye roll, she snatched the note from his hand and left without a word, leaving Spencer rooted to the spot.

As she passed a trash can in the hallway, Y/N paused, the note burning a hole in her hand. For a moment, she hovered on the brink of tossing it away. But something—sentiment, curiosity, or perhaps a stubborn refusal to let go—made her slip it into the back pocket of her jeans instead.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

The lyrics of her song echoed in Spencer's mind as he watched her go. And in that moment, he realized with startling clarity that he didn't want to get away. Not anymore. Not ever again.

As Y/N disappeared from view, Spencer was left alone with the lingering scent of her perfume and cigarette smoke, and the weight of years of regret. He knew that solving this case was now about more than just catching a killer—it was about second chances, redemption, and the possibility of healing old wounds.

With a deep breath, he steeled himself to face Derek and the investigation ahead, all while knowing that the most challenging case of his life might just be winning back the trust of the woman he'd never stopped loving.

Author's Note: I absolutely love Silver Springs. I belt it out all the time lol. I also was obsessed with Daisy Jones & The Six when it came out. Used to read a lot of those fanfics.

Also let me know if y'all want a part 2.

Thank for reading!

[magewritesstories]

okay but personally as a bisexual woman of colour, the line "sasha trampled my heart so bad and now i think i like white boys" is the funniest line in all of heartbreak high, i love this show oml

[j2hoes]

Eshay Baby. (Anthony Vaughn x Chook's Sister Reader)

Word Count: 5.8K

Y/N Cooper and Anthony Vaughn had a complicated relationship, which becomes even more complex following the reveal of the incest map.

WARNING: This work is not intended for those under the age of eighteen as it does have mature content. This story deals with alcohol, sexual content, drugs, explicit language, violence, death and triggering topics such as sexual assault and abuse.

A/N: I really hope you enjoy this fic as much as I do, I am a sucker for an ex's to lovers trope! This will be an ongoing series with each chapter correlating to a different episode! Love you! x

Fuck you Monday.

I am not a bad person. At least, I don’t believe I am. Research suggests that people become products of their environments, in fact, there’s an entire theory surrounding the self-fulfilling prophecy which suggests that if environmental factors such as the people and community surrounding you believe you will turn out a certain way, you will. It’s something to do with the phrase ‘if that’s what people think I am, then that’s what I will be.’ For as long as I’ve been alive, I have done my best to combat this. Not wanting to prove the countless social workers, mental health professionals, teachers and police correct. I am a good person.

My brother on the other hand, that’s slightly more complicated. He’s four years older than me, he understands and remembers more of our childhood than I do. It’s not something that we often talk about, him opting to avoid the subject entirely not wanting to reminisce on the past. His words not mine. I don’t blame him for this, nothing I can remember is positive. Being passed from one distant relative to the next, each being significantly worse than the last. Until one day we ended up at the home. I can only imagine what other horrors he may remember.

Hence why I stated it’s complicated, everything he does, he does for us. That’s the way it’s always been. Not once has he failed to protect me, agreeing to be my legal guardian the moment he turned eighteen in order to remove me from the clutches of any government mandated home. I’ll forever be grateful to him for that, and so I could never argue that he isn’t a selfless man. Not when it comes to family.

Others may disagree with me, believing he is cruel, callous and cold. Inherently evil is a term that has been used to describe him many times before. I’ll be the first to admit that there are times when I don’t agree with his actions. However, I don’t believe this defines him as a person. People are so complex and have many different layers that somebody cannot be defined by one small thing. So would I say he’s a good person? No, but I also wouldn’t say he’s a bad person. He’s just different.

“Your brother said to tell you he’s setting off in ten minutes so to make sure you’re ready.”

The soft voice at my doorway startles me, too focused on applying my lipgloss to notice the boy standing in the doorway. As I glance up at him through my mirror, I’m hit by the unmistakable stench of marijuana that seems to flood the room. My nose scrunches, slightly disgusted by the thought of my brother and his friends getting high in the living room at eight am on a monday morning. Continuing to apply multiple layers of the shimmery pink gloss, I notice the figure is still standing in my doorway, his back turned to me, stance appearing almost awkward as he scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Cash you can come in.”

He turns to face me, hesitantly stepping through the threshold into my bedroom with a small smile on his face. Closing the old wooden door behind him, only to almost be knocked out by the numerous bags I have hung up on the back of my door.

“That’s a lot of bags.” He comments, resulting in a small laugh from me due to him stating the obvious.

Beginning to gather my textbooks, notebooks and any other supplies I may need for school, I notice Cash standing silently simply observing my bedroom. It’s a stark contrast to the rest of the house. Walls painted a burnt amber with photos and posters plastered up anywhere I could reach. Crocheted blankets are thrown over every piece of furniture in the room and my window stays wide open, allowing the bright morning light to flood the room, the gentle breeze blowing just enough to allow a melodic hum to reverberate through my wind chime.

“Your bedroom is nice. It’s homely.” Cash tells me, waiting patiently as I continue to throw things into my bag.

“Not a chance in hell was I letting Chook decorate my bedroom with graffiti.” I laugh, throwing my chunky black cardigan over my shoulders before the eshay opens the door for me, being the gentleman that he is and allowing me to exit first. “There’s another spray paint to cover a skatepark in here as it is.”

My finger traces one of the many swirls of blue spray paint that lines the hallway as I speak, eliciting a chuckle from the boy that follows behind me. Entering the lounge, I find Jayden and Tilla sprawled out on the sofa, eyes glazed over and it’s clear that they’re both stoned out of their minds. Chook sits on the armchair that he’s claimed as his own, nobody else dares to sit there, knowing it’s his seat. He’s playing with the car keys in his hands, eyes fixed on the unconscious man laid out at his feet. Occasionally nudging him with his foot in an attempt to humor himself.

“Who’s that?” I question, capturing my brother’s attention for the first time since we set foot in the lounge.

“Fuck knows brah, couldn’t handle his drinks though clearly.”

With one last surprisingly gentle kick to the stomach, Chook rises from the chair. Ruffling my hair as he strolls past me and towards the front door, much to my annoyance. I sigh quietly, swiftly smoothing my hair down, to which Cash does his best to muffle his laugh as we follow my brother out the door. Stepping over yet another unconscious man as we leave the house.

Hartley High is only a twenty minute drive, most of which I spend in silence, trying my best to enjoy the drum and bass that erupts out of the speakers as we fly down the streets of Sydney. Chook was never one for following the speed limit, no matter how many times I lectured him on the importance of driving safely.

We pull into the car park outside of school with an ear piercing screech, slamming to a halt directly outside the gates, the unnecessary amount of noise causes many students to look in our direction. Many whispering to their friends as they gawk at us, I do my best to keep my head down as I clamber out of the vehicle. Embarrassed by the commotion Chook has caused.

“Don’t get expelled!” Chook yells out of the car window as Cash and I trudge reluctantly towards the quad. Not wanting to dignify him with a response, I simply throw my middle finger up behind me, hearing his raucous laughter followed by the screech of his tires on the asphalt once again.

“You reckon this year will be any better?” Cash inquires, knuckles white due to how tight he is clenching the strap of his fanny pack that is thrown over his shoulder. He’s nervous. Contrary to what people believe, Cash is a sweet boy. He’s so loving, caring, considerate and kind, he has a lot to offer the world we live in. Nobody seems to see this though. Believing Cash is a good for nothing eshay that will make nothing of himself upon leaving school, most likely following in the footsteps of his mother and ending up in prison. Even he himself believes this.

“I don’t know mate, maybe for you, I mean you technically don’t even need to be here. I don’t have a choice unfortunately.”

“Yeah but that just means you’re stuck with me for another year kiddo.”

“I am literally a year younger than you.” I sulk, giving him a gentle shove in order to express my annoyance. “Besides, you wouldn’t have screwed me if you saw me as a kid.”

Cash stops in his tracks completely, I smirk, pleased that I’ve rendered him completely speechless and offer him a quick wink from over my shoulder as he jogs to catch up to me. We agreed to never speak of it. A one night hook up when we were both heavily under the influence of certain illegal substances. My heart was in pieces following the breakdown of mine and a particular church going brunette’s secret relationship. If you could even call it a relationship, we never exactly labeled anything, nor made anything public. However, it felt as though my heart had shattered, I’d never experienced anything like that before. Not even the pain of my childhood compared to this.

One thing led to another and Cash and I were stumbling into bed together. Both of us knew it was wrong, Chook would kill Cash if he ever found out. Fortunately it only happened once and while I wouldn’t say that I regret it, it did definitely put a strain on our friendship for a while. Mostly due to him being terrified of me telling my brother.

Remembering the memory, I can’t help but smile to myself. Even if it was just for that one night, Cash made me feel whole again. Like I was worthy of finding love. The dopamine from the positive recollection seems to crash like a wave over my body, uplifting my mood drastically despite heading into what is ultimately prison for the next seven hours. That is until I catch a glimpse of the one person I was hoping to avoid completely for the next year.

Anthony Vaughn.

“Oi there’s a fully gacked sex map in the old stairwell.” Shouts from the redheaded girl catch my attention and I’m grateful to be provided a distraction. “It’s called the incest map!”

Students from all directions flock together in a sprint towards the old stairwell. The scene could be described as something out of a nature documentary when a pack of wild animals chase after their prey together. It’s wild and chaotic, completely undignified. So, with a quick glance at one another, Cash and I also follow the crowd, taking off in a run to identify what a ‘sex map’ truly is, and why it is so interesting that the entirety of our school is racing at full speed just to catch a glimpse.

I thank my lucky stars that I’m not claustrophobic when I eventually manage to squeeze my way through the horde of students. Names are scrawled in huge letters across the wall, each with different lines and symbols linking one to another. There’s a key chart to the left hand side and it’s safe to say nobody’s sexual endeavours were safe due to how graphic the key chart was.

The usual suspects are on the map, those who aren’t quiet about their partaking in hookup culture, such as Darren and Dusty. Those in relationships are also unsurprising, for example Missy and Sasha are of course linked, having only just recently broken up. Other names however do manage to shock me, for one I was not expecting to see Quinni’s name on the map, nor was I expecting Cash. Following the three lines connected to his name, it’s only then that I realize in bright red letters accompanied by a pair of devil horns, is my name.

Y/N - hooked up - Cash. Y/N - blowie - Spider. Y/N - fucked - Ant. Y/N - destined - Ant.

With each passing second it feels like my heart has stopped, secrets revealed to the world that were supposed to never see the light of day. How did anybody know about this? Sure, Spider may have blabbed about me giving him a blowjob, most likely bragging to his two best mates about it as though I’m his latest conquest. However, what happened between Cash and I, as well as Ant and I was meant to be kept quiet.

With trembling hands, I begin to anxiously scan the room, looking for any sign that somebody other than myself may have noticed my name. Catching the eye of the brunette, who stands timidly between Dusty and Spider, I discern that he is just as concerned as I am. Fearful of the consequences of this coming out.

“Yo Ant, you fucked the eshay’s sister? Nice one bro.” Dusty shouts, clapping his friend on the back which only leads to the red blush on his face to creep to an even deeper crimson.

“You got further with her than I ever did.” Spider comments, a mischievous smirk spread across his lips. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Ant simply lowers his head, eyes focusing on his shoes which appear to be a lot more interesting than the map in front of him. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt that he won’t speak about us, but at the same time, I understand. With mates like his, I would want to keep things hidden from them too, especially if this is how they react. Not to mention his overly religious family upbringing and the overwhelming amount of shame he is afraid of bringing on his family.

“Hey, you okay?” Cash whispers, hand faintly grazing mine in a subtle attempt to offer his support.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Offering the mullet wearing boy a forced smile, trying to cover up the embarrassment of suddenly being the center of attention.

Continuing to stare at the map in disbelief, only the shouts of rowdy teenagers can be heard as they find more and more connections on the map that they hadn’t seen upon their first inspection. A few even run out in tears, the map ruining many people’s relationships, outing people and just causing pure humiliation for everybody that has their name scribbled across the wall.

“Hey, do you reckon if we ask real nice, Y/N will let us double dick her?” Spider asks Ant obnoxiously loud, nudging him as they both look over in my direction. Humorless expression evident on my face. “What, we’ve both already been there.”

Spider’s comment is directed to me, with him and Dusty both finding the utmost amusement in the entire situation. Ant, on the other hand, looks as though he wants the floor to swallow him whole, unable to make eye contact with me.

“Are you sure you’d be able to get it up? You and I both know how difficult it was for you last time and that was just for a blowie.” Without giving Spider a chance to respond, I’m pushing through the sea of teenagers, who are now staring eagle eyed between the blonde boy and myself. Invested in the very minor argument between us, a chorus of laughter can be heard at Spider’s expense. Even Dusty seems to take amusement in the mortification of his friend. As I brush past the trio, it’s hard to ignore the self-consciousness on their leader’s face. I can’t help but feel a small sense of pride, knowing that my comment really got under his skin. Eyes trailing over each of the guys, I notice that Ant is already looking at me, a regretful look on his face.

Unlike his two mates, Ant has always been the more caring of the three. Whilst still partaking, somewhat reluctantly, in the shenanigans that the other boys rope him into, he has always had more of a guilty consciousness. Often disclosing the amount of regret and guilt he felt due to some of their actions. Though, he made me swear that information to secrecy, not wanting the boys to view him as weaker. It’s one thing we regularly argued about, with him being unable to fathom the idea that having morals and a consciousness doesn’t make you any less of a man.

The deafening shrill of the school bell sounds whilst I stomp across the quad, alerting me of the fact that I should be headed towards the gym for the mandatory back to school assembly. Yet, I can’t bring myself to face it. Wanting to avoid Spider for a little while longer while I can in the hopes of steering clear of another confrontation. Half an hour into the new school year and I’m already wagging, what a great start.

Without turning to look back, I can hear the shuffle of feet as everybody begins to pile out of the old stairwell. Heading into the main school building, still, I tread on. Doing my best to sneak behind the science block and finding solace in the old dunnies that were closed off to students back in the nineties. Technically, nobody is supposed to be back here, I’m risking detention just by being here, though Cash and I continue to use it as a safe space to hide from the world whenever we need peace.

Rummaging through my bag, I’m quick to find the box of Marlboro Gold’s that I always keep stashed at the bottom, just on the odd occasion that I do feel the urge to smoke. It used to be a rare occurrence, these days, unfortunately it seems to be more of a recurring problem. I’ve hidden the habit from just about everyone in my life, not that Chook would care, he’s done far worse that I ever have. I just don't want people to perceive me as any less that they do now, I know smoking is a dirty horrible habit and yet I can’t seem to quit. So, as I spark my lighter, inhaling the toxic fumes, I begin to take comfort in the calm that fills my body from the lungs outward.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone was gonna be in here.”

My eyes sweep up from the ground, and if the baggy jeans and tie dyed jumper weren’t enough of a give away as to who stood before me the cross chain hanging from his neck certainly did. It’s the first time he’s actually spoken to me directly since the night everything came crumbling down eight weeks ago. When my eyes lock with his, I can’t help but take in his beauty as if it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him and before I can react the cigarette is falling out of my fingers.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

He points to the ciggie that is now beginning to burn out on the concrete floor. With an awkward laugh, I quickly pick it up, stubbing it out on the wall, humiliated that he caught me.

“I don’t really,” Playing with the ends of my hair as I desperately try to think of an excuse that doesn’t truly reveal the extent of my habit.

“Just needed to destress after this morning.”

“Yeah, crazy morning, right?” Ant asks, leaning against the doorframe as he attempts to make small talk with me. “Actually, do you have another one of those?”

With raised eyebrows I nod swiftly, pulling the pack out of my bag and offering them to him along with my lighter. He lights his and I do the same, after all I didn’t exactly get to finish the first one on account of dropping it on the ground.

“You wagging assembly too?”

My voice is quiet, unsure on whether he actually wants me to make conversation with him or he’d prefer to sit in silence. Despite my best attempts to not make it obvious, I watch as he takes a drag from the ciggie, allowing the smoke to delicately fall from his lips. It’s awkward not knowing where I stand with him, sure, what happened was a while ago now and I’d assumed we’d both moved on but that doesn’t make the entire situation any less awkward.

“Couldn’t face it, Spider and Dusty wouldn’t stop hounding me for all the details and I just needed some space.” Ant admits, picking at the skin around his fingers between drags.

“Oh right, I can leave if you want some space, I don’t mind.”

Grabbing my bag and hauling myself off the window ledge, I throw the end of my ciggie to the ground, ready to leave. That is until his hand grabs mine gently, his touch soft as I’m forced to stop and look at him.

“No, stay. You should stay.”

Ant offers me a small smile before letting go of my hand, the touch so fleeting and yet it still manages to make my heart flutter even just the tiniest bit. Sitting beside him on the cold, mucky floor, not minding the dirt if it means that Ant and I are one step closer to mending our friendship. Truthfully, I miss him. I miss him as a friend more so than anything. Our bond was one that you don’t find much in life, one that others struggle to comprehend.

“I owe you an apology.” His words catch me off guard, unaware that he felt the need to apologize to me, let alone, doing so on the first day back at school. Granted it hasn’t been any ordinary first day back. “I was a complete dickhead to you and you didn’t deserve it-”

“Ant you don’t need to explain yourself.”

“Nah, I do. I think I knew I couldn’t be the guy you deserved, and I got scared. It’s no excuse, I know that. Just believe me, I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said to you that night, I was so pissed, honestly, I hardly remember any of it. All I know is I woke up with the worst hangover of my life and you weren’t there.” He stops for a moment, collecting his thoughts with furrowed eyebrows, trying his best to put what he wants to say into words. “You weren’t there and then I saw the messages. Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t ever want to hurt you.”

He’s staring at me intently, eyes trying to find any glimmer of emotion on my face in an attempt to determine what I’m thinking. Opening my mouth to respond, I find myself rendered completely speechless. As I focus on Ant, I can see the worry in his eyes. Uneasy as to what I may have to say.

“Shit, sorry, I’m no good with words, I-”

“Stop talking Ant.” I mumble, putting an end to his rant before he can even properly begin. “Cheers for the apology, it means a lot.”

“Do you hate me?” The question is blurted out before he can stop himself. Shocking even himself judging by the way his widened followed by his head falling to his hands.

“I could never hate you. You should know that.” I tell him, his whole body instantly less tense as the relief floods through him. “I’ve actually really missed my friend. We should’ve never complicated things.”

I almost miss it, but there’s a flash of pain in the browns of his eyes as I say those last words, though he nods in agreement. The silence that follows is no longer awkward, instead it’s tranquil. Plainly embracing the warmth of the early morning sun in one another’s presence feels relaxing compared to the events that unfolded prior. Blissfully enjoying the reblossoming of our once torn apart friendship.

“If it isn’t Anthony Vaughn and Y/N Y/LN. You’ve not even been back a day and you’re already wagging.” Ms Woods’ tone is extremely unimpressed as she addresses us, evidently not happy that we’re getting into trouble this quickly. Ant and I can’t help but hold in matching mischievous grins. “My office now!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So what were you and Ant doing in the dunnies together?” Cash mumbles the minute my brother is out of earshot and inside Harry’s diner, no doubt trying to chat up all the girls who are trying to eat their chippies in peace.

Slapping him straight in the chest, my eyes flicker towards the door of the diner, wary that Chook will pop out at any second and overhear our conversation. He feigns annoyance, dramatically throwing his hand up to his chest, acting as if I’ve just shot him.

“Oh my god, nothing!”

“I saw your names on the map Y/N, can you blame me for thinking you were trying to cop a root?”

“Shut the fuck up! Nothing happened okay?” I whisper as aggressively as I can, playing with the hem of my pinstripe mini dress in the hopes that I can distract myself from this conversation.

“I dunno, Amerie seemed to think you two were destined.”

“Who’s destined?”

Chook’s voice alarms me, head snapping up to spot the slightly older, male version of myself walking only mere feet away from Cash and I. His casual demeanor suggests he hasn’t overheard the rest of our conversation for which I’m thankful. Locking eyes with Cash, I shake my head in the subtlest way possible so he knows not to say a word. If Chook found out about the map, not only would I be dead, but Cash as well, so it’s in the best interest of both of us not to open our mouths about yesterday’s events.

“Spider and his imaginary girlfriend. That boy is gonna be in a serious relationship with his hand for the foreseeable future.” The lie slips off my tongue so easily that it’s rather concerning. Chook doesn’t question me, though why would he? I learned from the best.

“Sure. You prepared for the cemetery tonight kid?” Chook asks Cash, not even bothering to look up at him as he stashes the boot of the car with countless amounts of junk food he had just collected from Harry’s. “Thank god you stayed at school for another year, since this little bitch didn’t wanna take over as our connect.”

“My bad that I didn’t wanna be running around, pushing drugs for you for the rest of my school life.” I argue, Chook pulling faces as I speak in response. Deciding that this is an argument not worth having today, after all, it’s one we’ve had many times before.

“Yeah, all good brah.” Cash chimes in, answering Chook’s question to put an end to our petty argument before we can take it even further. Before we can get physically violent, even if it is only in a playful manner.

“You two best get going hey, maximize profit and all that.”

Cash doesn’t need any further instruction, hopping on his motorbike after passing me his fanny pack to store in the bag on the back. Something he always does in order to ensure that all his supply is kept perfectly safe while he drives. I’d consider it smart if I didn’t know it was drugs he was keeping safe. Chook jumps in his car, nodding in our direction as he flies out of the car park with Jayden and Tilla shouting out of the window at us. I can’t help but smile at their antics.

Cash offers me a hand on to the back of his bike, hiking my tiny dress up even further so that I can throw my leg over the vehicle. Wrapping my arms around his waist tightly, he watches in his mirror for me to nod before taking off. A habit he picked up when he first began to drive me around on what I like to call his ‘death trap’.

Dance music is belting from the many speakers when we arrive at the cemetery, a fire pit glowing in the middle of the makeshift dance floor as people crowd around it. The sun is already setting as we arrive, illuminating the party in a way that looks angelic. Upon reaching one of the many piles of drinks, it’s hard to notice Amerie dancing crazily, along with Darren, Quinni and Malachai. I point it out to Cash, the pair of us surprised that she has any friends left considering her actions.

Parting ways with the eshay I find taking a swig from one of the numerous vodka bottles before grabbing a bottle of bus, watching as Cash immediately begins to get to work, Sasha instantly running over to him the moment she spots him alone. Rolling my eyes, I plant myself further away from the party, sat with my back against one of the decrepit headstones.

I’ve always been more of an introvert. Opting to be a wallflower and observe rather than be the center of attention, unlike my fellow classmates who all seem to thrive when the spotlight is on them. I hate Amerie for forcing me into that spotlight.

Between sips of the slightly warm lager, I begin to roll myself a joint, figuring I may as well attempt to have a good time at the party. Even if it isn’t my ideal Tuesday night. I couldn’t let Cash come on his own though, not when he’s working for my brother.

“You are a bad girl Y/N Y/L/N.” Ant’s voice shouts from a short distance away, strolling towards me with a cheeky grin slapped across his face. “What is this? The second time I’ve caught you smoking now?”

“Right well I was just about to offer to share this with you but I guess not now.” I joke, lighting it up as Ant flops down beside me. “And technically, I haven’t even smoked this yet so you’ve only caught me once.”

“It totally counts!” Ant argues, waiting patiently as I take a couple of puffs before handing him the joint. “How’d your brother take it when he found out about the map?”

“You’re safe if that’s what you’re asking. I haven’t told him and he’s not the type of bloke that answers the phone when Woodsy rings.” He hands the joint back to me, fingers brushing mine tenderly. “Your mum?

“Not great. Amerie really fucked things up for me, I have to go to church three more times a week now, all because of one wristy and well you know.”

“Did you tell her the truth about us?” I inquire, wondering if he did come clean completely about our situationship of sorts.

“Nah, I told her it was just the once.” He admits, glancing at me sheepishly, almost embarrassed to recount the memory. “Figured that was better than telling her the truth. I may have also turned her that you were my girlfriend at the time, you know, to kind of make it better. Not that she approves of premarital sex or anything and I know we didn’t label what we were but it sounded better in the moment. I hope that’s okay.”

“Lying to your mother Anthony, that’s not very christian of you!” I gasp, to which he snatches the joint back out of my hand in retaliation, laughing along with me.

“Fuck yourself.” Ant chuckles, blowing the smoke directly in my face without any warning, causing me to descend into a fit of coughs.

“What’s the deal with you and Cash anyway? You two a thing now?” Ant’s not looking up at me when he speaks, all his attention fixated on the crowd of teenagers partying in the distance. Anxiously pulling blades of grass from the ground beneath me, I continue to gaze at him, a sigh falling from my lips as I had hoped he hadn’t noticed the line between Cash and my name. It was inevitable that it was going to come up, I had just hoped it would be something that people skirted around, not asking any direct questions.

“Nah.” The word is faint, shaking my head, my eyes fall on the boy in question, completely unaware that we are speaking about him as he stands in conversation with Darren. “We’re just mates.”

The boy nods besides me though I can tell he doesn’t truly believe me, still unable to look in my direction. Nudging him slightly, I give a small smile when he does hesitantly face me. “We hooked up once a few weeks ago, I was pretty much black out and he was just there. It was a fucking stupid decision.”

“Just mates though?” Ant asks, more of a rhetorical question, as if to reassure himself, much to my confusion as I can’t see why it would matter to him whether we were just mates or not. “Okay but who was better?”

Bloodshot eyes and a lazy smile indicate to me that the joint has hit him quicker than either of us expected. Warm blush present on his cheeks, his head tipped back against the headstone , gazing up at the stars that begin to light up the late summer skies.

“You’re so stoned.” I comment, completely dodging the question in the hopes that he’s too high to remember what he had even asked.

“Just like old times, yeah.”

Ant’s fingers brush over my hand just barely, the touch so slight that I wouldn’t have felt it had I not been looking in that direction. Thumb softly tracing circles across the back of my palm, skin feeling as though its been set alight with every small movement. Turning my head, I find Ant already staring at me, mouth curved upwards into a slight smile.

“I wish I never cooked it with you.”

Despite knowing that he is as high as a kite, his words still manage to catch me off guard. Forcing me to pull away, leaning back to take him in properly. From his somber expression to the deep intensity with which he looks at me, awaiting a reaction.

“Cops!” Before I can respond, shouts from the party grab my attention. Head spinning round to see the chaos unfolding, teenagers running in every direction, some scream, whilst others laugh. “Cops! The cops are coming!”

“Oh shit.”

Discarding the bottle I had been nursing, I hop to my feet within seconds, Ant, who now looks surprisingly sober, does the same. Without hesitation, he is grabbing my hand before we take off in a sprint, running in the opposite direction of the flashing lights and sirens that are rolling up to the gatho. As the crowds disperse, I find myself scanning through the seas of people, looking for a certain eshay that would get into a lot of trouble, should he be caught. “Where’s Cash?” Voice breathy, I force Ant and I to a halt, searching my entire field of vision for any sign of him, head spinning so fast that I’m shocked I didn’t give myself vertigo. “Ant, I can’t see him. Where’s Cash?”

“Y/N we need to go.”

With his free hand, Ant easily slides it around my waist, using all his strength to pry my feet from the pavement. Regardless of my unwillingness, I allow the boy to lead us away from the party. Not wanting to run the risk of getting caught, so instead I recite prayers in my head that Cash also hasn’t been caught.

Upon reaching the locked gate, Ant wastes no time in easily pushing me up so that I can scramble over the metal. He does so with ease, a proud display of his strength and it makes me blush. Reminiscing on the ways he used that strength before.

Running hand in hand down the noiseless streets of Sydney, I find myself giggling at tonight’s events. The prospect of an exciting, if slightly chaotic year eleven rises upon the horizon and I can’t help but display my enthusiasm at seeing where the next few months take me. (Hopefully, with Ant by my side, but nobody needs to know that.)

[merrybloomwrites]

Masterlists

One Direction Masterlist

Smosh Masterlist

[allisluv]

600 followers celebration <33

wooo. what a pleasure it's been to welcome 600 of you to my blog! i can not thank you all enough, and as a token of my gratitude, i have decided to have a celebration!

there is no limit to how many asks you can send in. deadline: january 16th

*note -- i know some people are still waiting on requests from past celebrations, so please be patient! i promise im working on them slowly but surely <3

���= send me a fluffy or smutty prompt and a character and i'll turn it into a blurb!

🕯️= send me a character or a ship and i'll give you my headcanons on them!

✍️= send me a little bit about you and i'll ship you with a character (please specify the fandom and the gender of who you would like to be shipped with!)

🐬= send me a character and a scenario and i'll make a moodboard!

🎧 = send me a lyric prompt and i'll write a blurb or fic about it!

🔤 = send me a character and i'll write a nsfw or sfw alphabet on them!

characters this is open to: finnick o'dair, annie cresta, lucy gray baird, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, daisy jones, warren rojas, eddie loving/roundtree, emily prentiss, karen sirko, graham dunne, derek morgan, aaron hotchner, spencer reid, elle greenaway, penelope garcia, jennifer jareu, tyler owens, jake seresin, casey novak and sejanus plinth!

[cumulo-stratus]

(dividers by @cafekitsune <3)

Fluff- ☀️ Angst- 🌧️ Angst w/ comfort- 🌦️ Moodboard- 🌨️

Requests- open!

last updated- 5/10/24

SERIES -

Flufftober -

one fic for everyday of october based around a fluffy prompt, (im sure we all know the drill by now <3)

Long Gone[e.p] ☀️ - emily and reader share their first kiss in the after hours of the bau

Rainy Love [s.r]☀️ - y/n has always loved the rain, and decides to share that love with spencer (ps this was idea was inspired by a fic by the lovely user @ssa-atlas-alvez <3)

I’ll Remember for us [s.r] ☀️ - the team goes to Los Angeles, and y/n (the ever emotionless and stone cold profiler with a soft spot for spencer) is chasing an unsub when they fight and falls, getting a concussion and fractured wrist, spencer is there for him. (no prior romantic relationship, just friends)

Rain Soaked Sleep [s.r] ☀️ - Y/n and Spencer get home after a long week at the BAU and a rainy drive home, ready to fall asleep to the sound of rain.

Oh How I Love Loving You[s.r] ☀️ - Y/n and spencer share their first dance as a married couple at their fall wedding in y/ns hometown in new england

Softest Curls in All the Kingdom [s.r] ☀️ - Y/n enjoys playing with spencers hair on jet back home

“They’re Ours!” [s.r] ☀️ - My HC's around Spencer and sharing clothes over the course of your relationship.

There’s nothing wrong with being different[s.r] ☀️ - Spencer and his husband talk to their daughter when she gets in trouble for punching someone (daughter is 10)

Soaked in Adoration[s.r] ☀️ - My HC's around spencer and bathing/showering with his partner

“For Me?”[s.r] ☀️ - Y/n brings spencer an early Christmas gift relating to their shared special interest of the sci-fi fantasy series Dune

“You do this everyday?”[s.r] ☀️ - y/n has a pretty popular cooking channel and one day after y/n doesnt edit out spencer givving y/n a kiss when he gets home the fans go crazy wanting a video where you bake together so you make a vid answering questions while making a fall recipe

Love in the form of paper[s.r] ☀️ - Spencer tries to teach his best friend how to make an origami heart- but y/n still struggles

“Lend me some vanilla?” [s.r] ☀️ - Y/n goes to spencers house to ask spencer if he has any vanilla extract when theres a possible gas leak and no ones allowed to leave their aparment until the morning when someone can come check it out...

Sneaky snuggles [s.r] ☀️ -y/n is woken up to a surprise of his boyfriend being home- despite the fact that his case was supposed to run at least another day or two.

The good days [s.r] ☀️ - spencer and y/n go stargazing, and y/n indulges spencer with facts about his special interest- astronomy

Protector[s.r] ☀️ - after an unsub tries to hurt y/n, spencer steps in.

Lover -

the love story of y/n l/n and Spencer Reid

Ours ☀️ - Spencer finally has a conversation with the boy on the train

Enchanted 🌦️ - Spencer's insecurities grow in his friendship with y/n when he finds out about Gina

More coming soon…

ONE SHOTS -

Criminal Minds -

Like we always do [s.r] 🌦️ - (request) after Spencer proposes to his partner they decide they have to tell Spencer what they had been thinking about for months- and Spencer is always ready to support his partner

Communication issues [s.r] ☀️ - reader is from France and lived there until he was 11/12 and then moved to america and his first language is french. He also has a little bit of an accent. Basically reader is new to the team and it is their first late night back home on the jet with him. And basically they learn that when hes tired he reverts back to his mother tongue.

The fencer [s.r]☀️ - reader is a fencer and is competing in the 2023 mens saber nationals and spencer invites the team to cheer on his boyfriend. (Could be read as ftm) (Also spencer is like low key autistic in this)

Smart cookie [s.r]☀️ - (request) reader asks for readers help with a new tattoo he wants, and when reader calls Spencer a smart cookie Spencer gets flustered, and reader can't help himself

Love like a fathers [s.r]🌦️ - (request) Y/n gets hurt protecting spencer from an unsub, and they spend some time together in the hospital.

Flashback [s.r]🌦️ - spencer discusses his thoughts around having kids with his spouse after putting their daughter Diana to bed (written for @cmgiftexchange)

New Years Kiss [s.r]☀️ - You and Spencer share a New Years kiss at Rossi's house to celebrate

The Little Things [a.h]☀️ - (request) you notice all the little things Aaron does for you everyday (could be read as romantic or platonic)

Fantozzi [s.r] ☀️ - (request) The BAU decides to have a movie night at Rossi's house, and Spencer you and Spencer find a quiet corner to sit in. You both fall asleep and cuddling ensues..

Glitter Girl [p.g] ☀️ - (request) Penelope and her best friend share some banter over the phone

French Press Coffee [s.r] 🌦️ - (request) Spencer insist you take a break despite your objections

Embrace [s.r] 🌦️ - spencer doesnt feel like hes anything more than his intelligence, but ethan proves him wrong.

Home is with him [s.r] 🌦️ - Spencer comes home to find you struggling, and does his best to help

More coming soon…

MCU -

Ill always be here [m.j]🌦️ - you come out to your parents and they kick you out after your dad slaps you but mj comforts you and lets you stay with her. 

“You know your really pretty?” [m.j]☀️ - its late and y/n cant sleep so theyre ranting to MJ, its basically just a bunch of fluff crammed into a couple paragraphs

More coming soon...

Criminal Minds -

“They’re ours!”[s.r] ☀️ - Sharing clothes with Spencer Reid

BAU/Autism [s.r] ☀️ - How the team supports you and your autism

Soaked in adoration [s.r] ☀️ - Bath time with spencer headcannons

Dating Aaron [a.h] ☀️ - what would it be like to date Aaron Hotchner?

More coming soon…

Criminal Minds -

An indie fall with Spencer [s.r] 🌨️ - (request) A moodboard for an indie fall with spencer <3

A rainy day in with Spencer [s.r] 🌨️ - a moodboard for a rainy day inside with Spencer <3

College professor AU [s.r] 🌨️ - a moodboard for a college professor spencer reid <3

One car [b.a.u] ☀️ - in which all the members of the BAU are stuck in one car for a little while

"your my pillow now" [s.r] ☀️ - spencer reid x male reader

"I can still feel you" [s.r] 🌧️ - spencer reid x gn!reader

More coming soon…

[stttarkeys]

𝐨𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧: spencer reid x amelia schuyler-jones prt 1

context: amelia schuyler gets kidnapped by her fathers killer, the bau race to find where she is. characters: amelia schuyler-jones, tyler schuyler-jones, aaron hotchner, spencer reid, & the rest of the BAU word count: book: Lucky (wattpad published) note; this is from a unpublished chapter of my book, so please do not steal :) gif below is mine :)

It was meant to be the happiest day of her life, of hers and Spencer's life. After their wedding being pushed back so much due to their job it sometimes felt like it would have just been better to just go down to the courthouse and get married there, but Spencer was not going to let Amelia's dreams die of a traditional wedding go because of their job. Being apart of the Bureau had its perks and cons, but they would not change it for the world. They were meant to be married about eight months ago but three days before their special day they were called to her home town of New York for a case. - Amelia had been sitting at her vanity for what felt like hours by now, of course she wanted to marry Spencer, he is the best thing that has ever happened to her, and vice versa for Spencer. They were like two Lego pieces that did not fit with anyone but each other. Twin flame as David Rossi would put it. There was a light knock on the door that pulled Amelia from her dazed state. "Come in." Amelia called out to whoever the person was knocking on her door. Penelope and Derek made their way through the doorway, Pen already had tears in her eyes from one glance at Amelia. "Omg, omg, omg! You look like a Disney princess!" Penelope exclaimed to Amelia, this made the blonde haired girl smile. "Thank you Pen." There was a shy smile on her face, which was not normal. But due to the fact that all of the attention was on her and Spencer it made it all feel more real that they were getting married. "I think this is the first time that I have ever seen Agent Derek Morgan speechless. What about you Pen?" Amelia chuckled lightly as she looked at Derek, he was in his own emerald green suit (that both Spencer and herself had chosen). Derek looked at Amelia like she was an angel, of course Amelia was beautiful there was no doubt about it, but damn. Derek was speechless.

"Amelia Love Schuyler-Jones you are the worlds most beautiful bride." He reached his hand out for Amelia to take, which she did. "Give us a twirl then!" Derek says with excitement in his voice. Amelia did what he asked and gave a small twirl, giggling slightly as she did so. "We just came here to say there everyone is here, and David is read when you are." Derek states. Amelia sucked some air in between her lips, both Penelope and Derek can sense that she was nervous. They both moved in closer and hugged the girl. "I am okay. I am just upset that neither my dad or Tyler is here with us today. I know Dessa is and their kids are but I wanted Tyler and dad to walk me down the aisle, not to have them watch from the sky." Amelia said as she moved away from the hug that Pen and Derek offered. "We know." Derek starts. "But like you just said, they are both watching over you and they are so proud of you." Derek kisses her forehead lightly and then leaves the room with Pen following behind him.

She clenched her hand around the small cross that was around her neck, her faith and belief was going to be one of the only things that was going to help her keep it together whenever her family was mentioned to her. Another knock on her door brought her back to reality. What could Penelope and Derek forgotten? They were just in here for less than five minutes. Before she even reached the door handle, there was a loud bang outside of the room she was in, this made her raced back to the vanity reach into her hand bag and place her hand onto the glock that she had in it. It was known to her yet but the body of one Detective James McCrae was watching into the room that Amelia was in, this was his chance to reach in and steal the FBI agent from the happiest day of her life, he did not care about her whatsoever he just wanted to punish the agent for putting his own daughter in prison.

With Amelia's eyes trained on the front door of the room James was able to get through the window without her detection. With the crowbar in his right hand ready to swing he stepped closer, and closer to her body. Whack! James hit Amelia's body, making her fire off a round of ammunition into her purse (knowing that someone would be bound to hear it) Amelia fell to the ground beneath her, face first her hands breaking the fall that would have broken her nose. Quickly she turned onto her back looking at her assailant but to her dismay he was wearing a ski mask that was covering his face, but his body figure looked familiar to her some how.

"Derek! Penelope!" Amelia called out to the two agents that left not too long ago, hoping that at least one of them would hear her cry out for help. "Derek!" She cries out again. "Oh my dear." There it was, that thick Scottish accent spoke to her. "No one is coming for you, no one will ever be coming for you, ever again." James McCrae looked over Amelia's body as he stood all over her, he knew that no one would hear her cries out for help. They were too far away from her room to do anything about it now.

"Spencer!" Amelia calls out one last time before her assailant knocked her out cold, redness and blood immediately started to pool out of her nose and her ear, which was from the contact from the baseball bat that he had in his hand.

James was somehow able to get Amelia into the trunk of his car without gaining the attention of the emerging guests that were arriving at the church in Vegas. It would be less than hour before David Rossi made his way to the room where Amelia had been all morning to find her not there.. with only a note that the kidnapper had left for Spencer Reid.

[ddejavvu]

okay it’s no secret I haven’t been able to write as much as I used to lately! But I’d like to post more, and I thought we could use this sfw/nsfw alphabet template to talk about our favorite characters 💞 please send me whichever letter you’d like to see (+ specification on whether you want sfw or nsfw), and I’d be so so so happy to write them for you 🥹

[piastrisgirlie]

ok, but who is gonna write a fanfic about them???

i am LITERALLY obsessed with this idea, pls

[fragileruns]

mia 18 june 5 james potter’s certified gf marauders obsessor pansexual !

masterlist

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!

who i’m currently taking requests for:

─── james potter, aaron hotchner, spencer reid, derek morgan, emily prentiss, sirius black, remus lupin, marlene mckinnon, warren rojas, graham dunne, graham dunne, daisy jones, karen sirko, jj maybank, pope heyward, logan huntzberger, abby littman, steve harrington, tasm!peter parker, chad meeks-martin, ethan landry, sam carpenter, tara carpenter, mindy meeks-martin, amber freeman, stu macher, dewey riley, most scream characters, any bridgerton character, john b routledge, jesper fahey, kaz brekker, malyen oretsev, conrad fisher, bradley bradshaw, jake seresin, pete mitchell

─── REQUESTS REQUIRE A GENRE, PLOTLINE, AND IF YOU’D LIKE IT TO BE PLATONIC/ROMANTIC. PLEASE DO NOT JUST SEND IN A TROPE OR ‘angst with ___’ BECAUSE I WILL NOT WRITE IT! I NEED SPECIFIC PLOTS :)

─── all characters will be aged up to 18+ for the purpose of the fics.

─── i only write character x reader fics

─── i am not currently writing any blurbs about main character death, cheating, or dark fics

[watermelongirl01]

The Tattoo

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Summary: Your first humankind case reveals a new Hotchner´s side you didn´t know.

Content Warning: Flirty Hotch, Homicide description, Abuse, Rape, Violence, Triggering situations. (Please let me know if I let something out.)

Note: This is my version of the episode "Jones" in the early seasons, I changed a lot of the things but not all of them, It is just how I would've liked the case to be in my opinion, and obviously added a bunch of other things to fit the thread of my story, like Jason Gideon not being there. I hope you like it.

“Short stuff, are you ready?” 

“Nope”

“Come on, you’re going to be just fine.” Morgan gifted you a reassuring smile.

This was your first time filling in for a member of the group. Normally it wasn’t necessary, but the team was reduced to four. Emily was on mandatory vacation and JJ stayed at home to take care of a sick Henry, so now your presence was requested.

“It’s not what I’m used to.”

“No it’s not, but you are a great agent and will do just fine.” He said gently squeezing your arm. “You will charm them all.” 

“Of course I will, there is no doubt.” You smiled back.

“Let’s go then.” 

You both walked to the briefing room where the rest of the team was waiting, Morgan quickly walked to the empty chair In front of you, slightly pushing you to the side, leaving you with no option but to sit next to Hotch, not that you minded but lately all the members of the team have been acting a little weird.

You looked at Morgan with a questioning look but he completely ignored you and lowered his gaze to read the case files.

“We have a serial killer in New Orleans. Two men’s dead bodies were found over the last month, and a third body was found last night, the same MO, male, throat slashed, they were all found in semi-public places in the French Quarter.” You heard Penelope explain.  “The local police have no leads and no suspects so far, Mike Weller, the head detective is waiting for you.”

Hotch nodded and looked at everyone in the room. “Wheels up in thirty.” He said before disappearing out the door. 

—

When arriving, Hotch sent you and Reid to the forensic lab to examine the body.

“No hesitation marks.” You said pointing to the terrible wounds.

Spencer nodded. “Cuts are methodical and almost procedural.”

The forensic doctor looked at both of you. “The person who did this definitely had medical training, there’s no other way he could have done this.”

“He?” You glaze up to the doctor.

“No defensive wounds and took out pretty big men.” You frowned. “Although all the toxicology tests showed signs of alcohol.” 

“Any relatives came to claim the body?” Spencer asked.

The doctor nodded. “His wife came with his former colleague.” Both of you looked at him with a confused expression. “He was a retired officer.”

“The lead detective didn’t say anything about that.”

“I’m not surprised, he wasn’t popular at all, he had a reputation for being a dirty cop.” 

“I’ll call Garcia.” You said getting your phone out.

But suddenly Spencer’s phone began to ring and he immediately answered. “Where? Okay, we’ll be there.”  He looked at you as he got off the phone. “Another body was found, call her on the way there.” 

—

“Same MO.” Morgan informed. “Some people saw him leave the bar down the street.” 

“So, he was drunk just like the other victim.” You said while eyeing the Weller. “Do we know his profession?”

“Does it matter?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

You step aside standing closer to him and shrugging your shoulders. “Humor me, detective.”

Detective Weller side-eyed you but nodded. “He was a well-known lawyer.”

“I see.” You crossed your arms while raising an eyebrow. “You forgot to mention that the fourth victim was a cop who used to work at your police station.”

“I don’t think it is relevant to the case.” Weller huffed.

“Well, we don’t know that yet.” You insisted. “Do we?”

The BAU men were looking at your disagreement with confusion, and suddenly a strong back wearing a gray and elegant suit got in between, blocking your vision. It took only a few seconds to recognize that it belonged to Hotchner.

“We would like to have access to all of the information available, it’s vital to be able to get the unsub’s profile.“ You heard Aaron talking to the detective.

“Sure, Agent Hotchner.” After Weller left the crime scene, Hotch turned around to see you.

“You are riding with me.” Hotch left the place hurriedly making you roll your eyes and toss your keys at Spencer.

You manage to keep up with Hotch’s pace and climb up on the SUV, some minutes passed and neither of you talked, but you got tired of the unbearable silence.

“If you’re going to scold me, just do it now.”

“I’m not.”

“Hotch he was in the wrong, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.” You shot him a puzzled look.

“Then why get in the middle of my conversation?”

”Because that wasn’t a conversation, he was starting to raise his voice.”

“I can take it, Hotchner.”

“I know you can, doesn’t mean I want you to.” You felt how your facial expression softened at his comment. “Listen, some of these detectives think we are here to make them look bad, they feel threatened.”

You rolled your eyes. “How are their insecurities my fault?”

Hotch chuckled a bit. “They are not, just go easy on them so we can keep the case.”

—

You, Hotch, and Spencer stayed at the precinct to read all the new information about the victims while Rossi and Morgan left to talk with the new possible witnesses. Currently, you are on your third cup of coffee and your fifth case file.

“I can’t believe we were missing all this information.” You hissed.

“Simmer down.” Hotch murmured.

You looked at the evidence board leaning against the table, focusing on the victim's photos, and frowning when looking closer.

“Oh.”

“You found something new?” Spencer asked.

“Hmm, have you seen that all the victims have tattoos?” Both men got closer to look at the photos. 

“Well actually, in some religions tattoos are forbidden because they think of the body as a temple.” Spencer babbled and immediately stood up from his chair. “Some other religions even think that if you get a tattoo, you’re not allowed in heaven.”

“Really?” A look of confusion crossed your face.

Spencer quickly nodded while pointing up with his finger. “You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor tattoo any marks on you: I am the Lord. Leviticus 19:28.” He added.

“So, we think this is a religious matter?” You asked.

“It could be a coincidence. Let’s ask Garcia if she can find something about it.” Spencer took his phone and left the room, leaving you and Hotch alone, looking at the board side to side.

“Well, that’s concerning. You know, some tattoos are meant to protect you.”

Hotch turned his head towards you. “What do you mean?”

“There’s this kind of tattoos that are protection symbols, usually hunters get them.”

“You have one?” Hotch’s upright posture was visibly shaken.

“I'm no hunter.” You said before walking back to the table, Hotch following you. “But yes, I do have one.”

“I’ve never seen a tattoo on you.” Hotch frowns

“That´s because it’s not in a visible spot.” You giggled while turning your back on Hotch to take out another stack of files.

Hotch’s eyes were found unconsciously roaming over your body. He had seen you in the summer, in short skirts and tiny tops, or with risky cleavages, hell he even had seen you in your pajamas when you shared a hotel room once or twice, but he never noticed any tattoos. That can only mean one last place. 

Hotch knew you were busy getting the files so his eyes ended up going down your back to your ass, He was positive your tattoo was on your hip or ass. 

You could feel Hotch’s eyes going down and up your body, You even turned your back on him longer than needed, so he could linger his sight on you even longer. Anyone could’ve said it was just Hotch’s curiosity but you saw that tiny shade of lust, sparkle in his eyes for a brief moment when you mentioned you having a tattoo.

You turned your body in a slow move and caught him still hypnotized by your body. “Looking for something Hotch?”

“Hips or ass, agent?” He asked with a straight face but his voice showed a hint of playfulness. He was teasing you.

The question made you smirk. “You’re not gonna hear it from me, you’re going to need to find out in another way, Sir.”

But before he could open his mouth to speak, Spencer came back to the room with bad news.

“Another body appeared, no tattoo.”

–

“Body number five, we can barely keep up with this guy.” you heard in the distance.

“Do we know who he is?” Hotch asked.

“Since it matters so much, His friend says he is a salesman.” Weller said, sending a nasty look at you. “No connection.”

“Detective Weller, I would appreciate it if your answer were directed at me. When I ask a question.” Hotch replied.

Weller huffed with irritation and you thought you heard him grumble something, but you’re not sure if he was agreeing with Hotch or cursing you under his breath. “We have five bodies, Agent Hotchner, and no correlation.”

“Okay, all victims were partying late at night with their friends and killed in the alley with no one noticing, how did the unsub manage to get them alone?” Hotch looked at his team, they were all lost in thoughts.

“A woman.” Detective Weller's mocking laughter echoed in the room.

“Let her finish.” It only took the look on Hotch’s eyes to harden, to force Weller to shut up.

“What is the only temptation for a straight man that’s going to lure him away from his friends and make him leave the bar?” Your expecting eyes were moving around glancing at your team’s faces.

“A woman.” Rossi repeated while nodding his head.

Hotch turned on his heels and looked at the detective. “Gather your men, we are ready to give a profile.” 

—

“Ready?” Hotch whispered in your ear, making the baby hairs on the back of your neck stand at the sound of his voice.

“What?” You whispered back feeling numb by his closeness.

“Ready to give the profile?” 

“Hotch, I’ve never gi-.” Your voice trails off. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”

“It is.” He assured you pushing you to the side and walking to the room full of cops.

Lost in your thoughts you barely felt two hands holding your arms from behind, giving you a light squeeze. “You got this, Kid.” Rossi left your side and followed Hotch in the other precinct's room.

You sighed and took a deep breath. This was your first time profiling a human case, not covering up supernatural events or rehearsing made-up stories. This felt different, good different.

You walked confidently and stood in the middle of the room surrounded by your team.

“We are looking for a woman between 30 and 35, she’s friendly, she’ll lure with charm but kill with rage.” You began your speech, feeling every pair of eyes looking at you with attention. “We believe she kills men to reclaim her power.” 

“She probably suffers from low self-esteem but covers it well.” You heard Morgan's voice.

“We believe this woman went through a catastrophic event, that’s when the killing started.” Rossi pointed.

“She has medical training, you should consider EMTs, doctors, or veterinarians.” 

“It’s more likely we are dealing with the Aileen Wournos archetype, motivated by paranoia and fear, luring men with sex.” Spencer added.

“She certainly knows the terrain, so be careful out there.” Hotch remarked.

A couple of hours later after the profile, Detective Weller came in a hurry with a piece of paper in an evidence bag.

“Forensics found a letter on the victim's body.” He said handing it over to Hotch. “She’s mocking us.”

“Dear boss, he wanted it. With that sharp tongue and vulgar hand. I thought you’d like to know that another will soon get what he deserves.

Yours truly.”  

“That 's weird.” All eyes searched Spencer’s voice. “Typically offenders write letters to be heard. Jack the Ripper bragged about not being caught yet this Unsub isn’t using correspondence to flaunt her latest kill. Only to explain why she did it.” He explained while moving his hands around.

“It’s possible that she considers herself a vigilante. That the man she’s killing deserves to die.” Rossi blurted.

“Then, every kill she’s acting out is a fantasy of revenge or a real revenge?” Everyone in the room returned to their thoughts wondering at Morgan’s question.

You shifted in your place with uncertainty. “Maybe she is contacting us not because we are on the case, but because she believes we understand.” With fingers tapping against the wood, you began to unravel the tiny hints in the letter. “The Unsub wrote, He wanted it as she couldn’t help herself. What if she’s mirroring the man who raped her?”

”Where are the files stored from your Sex Crimes Division?” Hotch looked at Weller’s direction.

The detective stepped out of the room momentarily and returned with a medium-sized carton box with a few files that barely stuck out of the box. “Here they are.”

“That 's it?” You let out with a surprised tone of voice.

After several hours of trying to match your profile with any file in the box, you were exhausted. You decided to take a quick break and enter the bathroom, You locked yourself inside one of the bathroom booths and sighed while your hands held your head.

The sound of the door being opened ripped you out of your pessimistic thoughts. Suddenly a hand left a piece of paper report at your feet, leaving you uncertain on what to do. You tried to thank the person but, you were answered with fast footsteps leaving the place.

You took the paper and read in a whispered voice, Disturbance at Jones.

~~

“Care to tell us what happened then, detective?” Hotch asked.

Detective Weller shifted in his seat with discomfort. “How did you know about this incident?”

“It was in the box you gave us, Weller.” Morgan said while leaning against the wall, looking directly at Weller.

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you misplaced it, who cares?” You argued. 

He looked at you with disdain. Aaron couldn’t help himself and stepped closer to you showing protection. “This happened when the head detective before me was in charge, I took some of the declarations but that’s it.”

You smirked with satisfaction Knowing you were right all along. “The detective before you as our third victim?” He nodded.

“What happened there, detective?” 

“One of the boys asked her if she wanted to play pool. Witnesses claim she was up for anything. His friend, not far behind.“ All the eyes were on him. “He claims she knew he was there, She said she claimed for help but not a single person claimed that they heard her.”

You shook your head in disbelief. 

He continued, “That’s why it was registered as a disturbance. She wanted to press charges. But the head detective back then told her it was a waste of time.”

“How is this just a disturbance?” Rossi asked, frowning at Weller.

“As far as I was concerned, no such rape ever took place, and the boy was a colleague’s son, he is a good boy.”

Something in your stomach twisted and anger started to build up.

“We are trying to know her name; she could be our Unsub.” Morgan pointed out. Weller sighed when this realization dawned on him, but he slightly shook his head as he was ashamed of not knowing the answer. 

But you were sure shame wasn’t a feeling men like that could understand.

“You don’t remember her name?“ Morgan asked with incredulity.

“It was nine years ago.” 

“What about the name of the good kid that raped her?” You bickered.

~~

“Mr. Tibideaux, we need you to answer a few questions about a disturbance you were involved with.“ Hotch’s voice resonated inside the four walls of the interrogation room.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Disgust appeared in your face, but you hid it by biting your tongue. You didn’t know why Hotch asked you to be there, but you hated every minute of it.

“At a bar called Jones, It was Mardi Gras.” Hotch reminded him.

“You know, then I must’ve been drinking or something. Cause I don’t remember a thing.”

With your feet tapping the floor, you were counting the seconds to be able to leave the room and be away from the so-called good boy.

“We just need to know the name of your accuser.” Hotch demanded. If he was annoyed there was no way to know.

“Look, I told you. I don’t know what you are talking about”

You roughly massaged your right temple, fuming.

”The statute of limitations is up, we just need a name.” He added calmly.

“Someone accuses me of rape, I’m gonna remember her name.” You taunted.

“Well, what can I tell you, Cher? I guess she didn’t make that good of an impression.“

Your eyes narrowed dismissively.

”Unlike yourself right now.” You retorted.

“You know. I’m guessing if someone did do something to that girl that night then she was probably asking for it. Maybe even liked it.”

You controlled the urge to smash his head against the table and abruptly took the file out of Hotch’s hands, you opened it and began to display all the victim's photos in front of him.

“You know Hotch, maybe we are not too late, she murdered these men and I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before she works her way back to the one she really wants to kill.” You tilted your head to look at him but he was busy looking at the pictures with a horrified look. “Is she making an impression now?

Your words suggested you were talking to Hotch but your sight was set on the other man in the room.

“You don’t want to tell us, fine.” You snickered. “Cause Daddy can’t make this go away, and I have no problem waiting for your dead body to give me a new hint.”  

You leaned closer, you didn’t have to talk anymore, you knew your eyes were saying enough. But you continued.

“In fact, I wouldn’t like anything else, so I’m gonna go ahead and set my alarm for tomorrow morning when I get the call from the police.” You ranted.  “Cause, believe me, I’m going to sleep better knowing there is one less offender out of the streets.”

After hearing the name you needed, you stormed out of the room leaving everyone behind without looking back until you heard a voice calling for you.

“That was out of line, agent.” You abruptly stopped and turned on your heels to look at Weller. 

“The only thing out of line is how pathetic you are at doing your job, Weller.” You turned back at him one more time and kept waking till reaching a quiet corner to make a phone call.

“Work me.” You hear Penelope’s voice on your phone.

“We have a name. Sarah Danlin. I need an address.”

“1141 Sherman Avenue. It looks like she was a med student at Tulane but she dropped out.”

“Let me guess, February nine years ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” 

~~

You returned to the hotel room by Hotchner’s request, and you knew he was in the right to send you back, you got carried away by your emotions. 

You were a mess. Closing your room door, you let your emotions overpower you once more. Tears were falling down your face. You weren’t sure what you were feeling. No one ever prepared you for this kind of case, you felt powerless, empty, and lost. And finally, rage possessed your emotions.

You tossed glasses and trails of empty dishes, and your luggage and clothes flew around the room until your energy and strength gave up and tiredness reached you.

You are sure the hotel staff let Hotch know, cause he kept checking with you constantly. He let you know when they arrested her and how she told them she killed every man who helped cover up her abuse.

You heard your door being open and looked at Hotchner with a questioning look when you saw him standing there.

“How did you open my door?” 

He showed you his key. “We are sharing.”

You frowned. “Since when?”

“Since now, there has been an unexpected cut in the budget.” You nodded knowing it was a lie and he probably wanted to check on you. But you said nothing.

“Some things fall by themselves, I think there’s a ghost.” You said when you caught him looking at the mess on the floor.

“I think you can manage that.” 

He left his duffel bag on the floor and sat next to you on the bed. 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

That simple question was enough to break your strong façade. It was a question you normally have no problem answering with a lie, and you didn’t know if it was the situation or just because Hotch was the one asking. But it brought you down to tears. 

He took you in his arms and hugged you tight.

“I’m sorry.” 

“It 's okay.” He softly mumbled on your head reassuring you. “You said what you needed to say.”

You quickly shook your head.

“I meant it.” You sniffled. “I was willing to wait.”

“I know.” He said while caressing your back with soothing movements. 

“So, normally you have to deal with these detectives making your job impossible?”

“Yeah, all the time.” He chuckled. 

“God, it’s exhausting.” You laugh a little 

“You don’t?”

“No, they basically beg me to take the case out of their hands.” 

Hotch sighed. “You need to learn new methods for the interrogation.” He searched for your eyes. “I mean, only if you want to keep coming to these cases with us, you want to?”

“Yeah.” You smiled at him.

“You are a profiler now, welcome to the team.”

~~

Back in Quantico, you were getting ready to leave your office when you got a call from an unknown number. You hesitated but finally answered after letting it ring for a couple of seconds.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean?” You frowned looking back at the number.

“We need a little bit of help.” Reality sank on you.

“Tell me you are not calling from where I think you are calling.” 

“Agent Henriksen got to us.”

“Damn it, Dean, How the heck did he manage to do that?”

“Bella Talbot.”

“That bitch again?” You sighed. “Where are you?”

“Colorado.”

“I’m on my way.”

[fanfics4all]

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Day 1- Temperature Play: Toy Otto x Fem!reader Day 2- Voyeurism: Lou Chan x Male!reader Day 3- Public Sex: Barry Allen X Fem!reader Day 4- Sensory Deprivation: Negan x Fem!reader Day 5- Bondage: Derek Morgan x Fem!reader Day 6- Anonymous Sex: Jamie Hunter x Fem!reader Day 7- Bruising/Biting: John Murphy!Vampire AU x Fem!reader Day 8- Flogging: Oliver Queen x Fem!reader Day 9- Food Play: Fred and George Weasley x Fem!reader Day 10- Overstimulation: Sub!Ambrose Spellman x Dom!Fem!reader Day 11- Knife Play: F.P. Jones x Fem!reader Day 12- Breath Play: Savitar x Fem!reader Day 13- Role Play: Callie Adams-Foster x Male!reader Day 14- Gangbang: Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini x Theodore Nott x Fem!reader Day 15-Teasing: Althea Szewczyk-Przygocki x Fem!reader Day 16- Cock Worshiping: Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader Day 17- Squirting: Bellamy Blake x Fem!reader Day 18- Foot Fetish: Archie Andrews x Fem!reader Day 19- Fisting: Caliban x Fem!reader Day 20- Cunnilingus: Brandon Foster x Fem!reader Day 21- Shower Sex: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader Day 22- Thigh Riding: Tommy Merlyn x Fem!reader Day 23- Breeding: Malachai x Fem!reader Day 24- Somnophilia: Roy Harper x Fem!reader Day 25- Pussy Slapping: Leonard Snart x Fem!Allen!reader Day 26- Pegging: Jesus Adams-Foster x Fem!reader Day 27- Angry Sex: Rosita Espinosa x Male!reader Day 28- Phone Sex: Luke Alvez x Fem!reader Day 29- Uniforms: Octavia Blake x Male!reader Day 30- Sex Pollen: Harvey Kinkle x Fem!reader Day 31- Cock Warming: Severus Snape x Fem!reader

[j2hoes]

Foreign Exchanges. (Anthony Vaughn x Reader.)

Summary: Moving school in the middle of the year is never easy. Let alone from an entirely different country. Despite Y/N trying to garner the least amount of attention possible, she still manages to catch the eye of a certain brunette.

Word Count: 1.5k

Gif Not Mine . Requests are open!

Warnings: Mature language.

A/N: My first Ant fic and I’m debating making this a series but you’ll have to let me know what you think! Anyway just a short one to start us off but there’ll be more soon. Don’t forget requests are open!

“I’d like you all to offer a warm welcome to our new student Y/N Y/L/N, she’s moved here all the way from the UK! So let’s show her some of that Hartley spirit.” The teacher, who introduced herself as Jojo, announces to the class. All of them staring at me with blank stares. “Go ahead and say a few words.”

She nudges my shoulder gently before I can decline the offer. Encouraging smile on her face. There are no smiles from my classmates however, only bored faces who couldn’t be less interested in my arrival. For which I’m grateful. I’d seen this school on the news prior to my enrolment, I know these students are brutal. I mean, a sex map? Dad wasn’t too happy about sending me here though he didn’t really have a choice, no other schools were admitting students this late into the term.

“Um hi, I’m Y/N. It’s good to be here I guess.”

“Does anybody have any questions for Y/N?” Jojo offers, attempting to find a way for the class to get to me.

Numerous hands raise and I let out a groan internally. It’s bad enough that I’m stood at the front of the classroom like a new shiny toy but to now be subject to whatever ridiculous questions these teens can come up with is a new form of torture. One that I am really not looking forward to.

Jojo points to her first student, allowing them to be the first to ask. “Why don’t you have a proper British accent?” The girl seems genuinely curious, eyes focused on me as she combs her fingers through her orange hair. Stickers adorn her face along with colourful eyeshadow to match her bright outfit. She has a gentle aura surrounding her, which makes me relieved as I realise her question wasn’t meant in malice and more so pure interest. Maybe these kids won’t be so bad?

“Um, I think the accent you’re think of is the Queen’s English. There isn’t many people that talk like that really, maybe a few down south but I grew up in the North East. None of us talk posh.” I tell her, watching as she seems to take notes as I speak.

“Thank you Quinni, Spider what about you?” Jojo asks, pointing to the tall blonde that is hunched over at the back of the class.

His eyes flicker up to me, giving me the once over though he doesn’t seem too impressed by my presence.

“Yeah, what is it with you and all the other poms having bad teeth?” The boy pipes up, I notice the two boys next to him laugh. Though the one in the baggy outfit makes eye contact with me and a flash of guilt appears on his face.

“I don’t have bad teeth actually. Nobody I know does and to be perfectly honest, that stereotype is deeply rooted in classism and while the UK faces a major cost of living and wealth gap crisis, I don’t think it’s funny to joke about things like that. Do you?” I retort, causing h the pink haired girl and her friend to applaud my mini speech. Both offering cheers.

“Okay any more questions that aren’t going to cause arguments?” Jojo asks, a few hands lowering as they don’t want to get in trouble. “Yes, Amerie?”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, yeah I really miss it.” I start, thinking of everything that I had to leave behind. I know this was the best decision for my family, but I do hold a slight resentment towards being here. “Don’t get me wrong, Sydney’s great and all, but I miss my friends, my house, my pets, I even miss the shitty pub from down the street.”

“Thank you Y/N, I feel like we’ve got to know you a little bit more now, so feel free to take a seat and we’ll get started.”

The only open seat is next to the girl that Jojo called Amerie. Smiling as I take my place, I open my notebook and begin to doodle swirls and other patterns across the page. Focusing on that rather than the subject being taught. It’s some form of sex education by the sounds of it. However, it seems very outdated and heteronormative. Nothing worth listening to anyway.

Upon hearing the bell ring, I begin to pack away my things and watch as a few students mutter things towards Amerie. “Map bitch.” “Cunt.” and “Crazy bitch.” Just to name a few. I realise that may be the reason she had nobody sat next to her and figure it may be best to avoid her if I want to stay under everybody’s radar.

Finding my locker, I begin to turn the lock with great difficulty. Back home, the numbers simply connect and the door clicks open, that doesn’t seem to be the case here though. Fiddling with the dial, I hear the bell signal the beginning of the next class and I huff, annoyed that I’m having this much trouble with a stupid locker.

As the hallways clears out, I continue to twist and pull at the lock. Bag dumped on the floor as I try with all my strength to pry the door open. With no such luck, I throw a quick kick to the locker beneath mine, leaving a dent in the door slightly. Slumping with my back again the metal, I find myself face to face with the boy in the baggy outfit.

Not previously noticing how cute he was, dark hair hidden beneath a beanie, a couple of curls escaping. Boyish grin plastered across his face and piercing brown eyes staring directly at me. I won’t even try to deny that Australia has one up on the Uk in terms of boys, they’re just so much cuter over here.

“What did the locker do to you?” He jokes, taking the slip of paper with the locker code out of my hand.

“Bloody thing won’t open.” I mumble, stepping out of the way as he demonstrates how to open it with ease. My cheeks tinged pink as I fear my outburst may have been unnecessary.

“I thought you Brits were supposed to be good at containing your emotions anyway.” He leans against the locker beside mine, watching me as I stuff countless books into the small space. Normally this would make me uncomfortable, yet there’s there’s something about him that makes me feel warm and calm.

“Nah we love our fair share of violence.” I tell him, smiling as I do so, remembering the amount of fights that used to take place on my estate daily. Providing free entertainment for all the neighbours. “We’re polite, but piss us off and we’ll knock you into next week.”

He laughs, folding his arms across his chest as I close the locker door. His eyes gaze over me as I turn to face him properly. Noticing the small cross necklace hanging from his neck, I can’t help but imagine what it would look like against his bare skin.

“You religious?” I ask, nodding towards the chain.

“Nah, I’m Ant.” He brushes off my question and tucks the necklace beneath his shirt. Clearly a touchy subject that perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up. So instead I attempt to lighten the mood.

“Ant?” The word escapes my mouth as a slight giggle, unable to hide the amusement his name brings. “And your mate’s called Spider?”

“Yeah, stupid right?” He chuckles, playing with the straps of his bag. Almost as if he’s nervous. “We’ve been best mates our entire lives. My real name’s Anthony but nobody calls me that. Same with Spider, his name’s Spencer. Kids started to call us Ant and Spider when we were like six, guess it just stuck.”

“That’s cute.”

Picking up my bag, I throw it over my shoulder. Figuring I should probably head to my next class despite being extremely late already.

“Hey, about Spider.” Ant reaches for my arm, clearly sensing that I’m about to leave. “I just wanted to apologise, he can be a bit of a dick but he’s a nice guy deep down.”

My arm tingles where he’s touching it, feeling the slightest of move of his fingers. As though my nerves are on fire. Suddenly hypersensitive to any little movement he makes. I know I shouldn’t be feeling things this intensely, hell, I’ve just met the guy. Yet he sparks an excitement in me that I haven’t felt in a while.

“Honestly it’s sound. You don’t need to apologise.” I assure him, offering a smile, I see his shoulders relax. “I can handle a prick like him any day.”

“Yeah you certainly shot him down quick.”

As he removes his hand from my arm, I’m quick to begin walking away. Cheesy grin on my face as I recall the interaction in my head despite it only happening seconds ago. I feel dizzy with excitement, my feet feel like they’re walking on clouds and I almost miss the shout from behind me as I go to turn the corner.

“Hey, do you wanna get high?”