#the head of the bau is somehow the most hated character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesiriusmoon · 1 year ago

Text

First Case

Summary: Bonnie is invited to assist on her first case, and got more than what she was expecting.

Characters: Bonnie McBride (OC), Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Jason Gideon

AU: Criminal Minds

Episode: Own

Word count: 4.9K

A/N: I make a lot of stuff up in this so just go with it! I make facts up a lot lol

TW: detail of blood and gore

Reblogs and likes help me a lot!! Help a little account out <3

——————————

“Wheels up in thirty.” Agent Hotchner announced and Bonnie could have hit the roof and landed in Seattle already not having needed to use the jet.

It had been three months this she started her new job as the BAU’s (Agents Hotchners) assistant and she’d been invited to assist on a case. Not as a profiler or an agent, but to help out. Sort things, write down information, and keep up to date. Like a walking talking diary for the team.

Her go bag has been ready since her first day and followed Emily closely towards the jet, it was magnificent. She’d never imagine she’d ever step foot in something like this.

“You like it?” Emily asked knowingly, and Bonnie chuckled.

“It’s amazing.”

“Very comfy too!”

And the two entered and found a seat.

The rest of the team followed shortly and she thought it was a bit cramped for seven people, but it was fine none the less.

“Three killings, all stabbed and had their hair cut off, all dumped around the Livingstone park. Within four weeks. Which means around one killing per week.” Agent Hotchner read from his file, one that each agent had been given by Jennifer and Bonnie began writing in her notepad.

“The hair means something to him. Women love their hair, this dude hates women. So what does he do? Take away their identity and their looks. He’s angry and wants them to feel as low as he does.” Derek waded in, and by instinct Bonnie stroked her own hair. She did love hers. It was unique. Bright orange when the sun shone down on her, and cool ginger when there was no light. She’d hate to have it all cut off or lose it somehow.

“I think he knows the area. That park is two thousand acres, he can cover a lot of ground.” Said Emily.

“Are we sure it’s a guy? I mean, it seems like it could be jealousy. Possibly a woman who doesn’t see herself as pretty or well liked and she attacks attractive women then defiles something that most of us care for and always want to look nice, our hair.” Jennifer commented and Agent Gideon frowned.

“You might be onto something JJ. They leave the bodies face up, no remorse for what they’ve done. It could either me a man suffering from rejection or a woman full of jealousy. We’ll have to take a closer look when we get down there.”

“Did you know that in a recent survey taken in a Las Vegas high school, girls were asked what aspect of themselves they treasure most, and the highest answer was their hair. Not their body or maybe their face, but their hair. I-I think it’s because your hair can really change the way you look. You can change your face with makeup and surgery and your body by exercising and-and eating, but it’s easier to get a haircut or dye it.” Spencer gifted the team with his extensive knowledge.

“So you think whoever’s doing this is to make their victims… ugly?” Agent Gideon questioned, looking down to Spencer who nodded.

“Possibly.”

“Well all the girls do look kinda similar. Dark hair, blue eyes, skinny.” Derek had said before Agent Hotchner spoke.

“When we arrive I want Reid, Morgan, JJ, down at the police station find out anything you can about what’s been done. Gideon, and Prentiss, and I will visit the dump site.” He closed the conversation swiftly, along with his file.

“What will I do?” Bonnie asked eagerly.

Agent Hotchner thought for a moment. “Come with me. But if you feel sick or something you can head back and go to the police station with the others.”

But she swore she wouldn’t. This is what she’s preparing for. Her future. She’d have to get used to gory scenes at some point. And she wanted to prove she was capable of helping the team.

“Yes sir.”

And shortly after, the jet landed and Bonnie dug her nails into the arms of her chair, scared they would crash but had instead rolled smoothly into an airport.

Immediately, agent Hotchner, Gideon, and Emily were on their way to the Livingstone National Park, Bonnie in the backseat next to Emily.

“You ever seen a dead body before.” Emily asked suddenly and Bonnie almost laughed at how absurd that question was.

“Once.” She kept her answer short. Not wanting to give any more information about her past to the team.

It was rough growing up. Her mother and father migrated to America from Scotland when she was twenty two, Bonnie was four. Her red hair a flame and full of wonder. Her parents were convinced about the American dream, but neither of them had ever kept down a job, instead they fell down a hole of drug addiction. At the age of eighteen, her mother had found herself pregnant after a faulty condom broke, then six years later, it was her little girl who found her father laying lifeless in their apartment bathroom. A drug overdose. Since then her and her mother have been eating small plates and sometimes using cold water for showers. The apartment in which they live in now isn’t great. It needs a lot of work but neither of them have money to pay for it. Bonnie was accepted to college for outstanding grades as a young age. Child prodigy as her mother would say and tell her every day how proud she was of her. But lately she hasn’t seen her much, or heard anything similar in a couple of years.

“Who was it?”

“Emily.” Agent Hotchner had a stern look on his face and she gulped.

“Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m sure you guys have seen lots. I’m just excited to be helping.”

Agent Gideon smiled a little. “Let’s hope you still feel that way when we’re done.”

They arrived at the park, and were welcomed by one of the rangers.

“Thank you for coming Sir. I’m Sandy Parker, head of the rangers and the park.” A broad woman possibly in her mid thirties with short red hair, a tattoo on her left arm, and a bulbous nose shook Agent Hotchners hand. She had been leaning up against a pick-up truck, the same colour as her hair.

“Thank you for letting us in. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, this here is SSA Jason Gideon, SSA Emily Prentiss, and Bonnie.”

And Bonnie. It sounded a little funny. Here’s three intelligent agents, and a kid. We’re here to solve the crime. Just like scooby doo.

“Oh my god am I the dog?” Bonnie thought to herself.

“Right this way. One of my coworkers Andy found her. He hasn’t blinked since.” Her tone was steady, deep, she must be very professional, or has seen something like this before.

As they were led through the forest, Bonnie noted how close the trees were. Not really good for entering. And she wrote it down. There had to be another entrance somewhere. It would be hard to move around in here without making a noise or dropping the body you carried.

Before she even knew it, the agents had stopped walking, and the three of them were staring downwards. So Bonnie did too, and almost vomited.

It was horrible. The girl must have been around her age. Brunette, small, skinny, but perky. That’s the ideal type isn’t it? To be thin but also have a little something going on. She knew that she want to be like that. But was rather flat, as she would put it when looking in the mirror.

The girls hair was chopped right to the scalp, bald patches shining here and there and some cuts on where the shearing had gone too close to the head.

The girls face was grey, totally lifeless. But what the worst part of it was, was that it was hardly a face. It had been mutilated with a blade.

“Fifteen stab wounds. Most to the face, some to the body which is probably what killed her.” Sandy sighed. “Poor girl. You never think something like this could ever happen to you. She was so pretty too… shame.” Sandy said staring right down at the girls bloody corpse.

In her notes, Bonnie wrote down about the overkill. The rage.

But was there hair here? On the ground? Or any blood splatters? If the girl was killed here, the hair that was cut should be here too.

“There’s no hair around here. Or blood.” She said.

“You’re right…” Agent Hotchner mumbled. “He’s not killing them here. He might be holding them.” And he flipped out his phone.

“Garcia, I need you to find missing persons report on brunette young girls, typically attractive, thin, and small.”

“She’s on it. Hopefully we can find out his type. And he might already found his next victim.”

Bonnie gulped hard.

Once there was nothing else to look at, the four began travelling back to the car through branches and twigs.

“That was some good spotting kid.” Agent Gideon made Bonnie jump.

“Oh… thank you sir.” Smiling gratefully.

“I hear your studying criminal justice?”

“Yes sir I am. I’m almost finished. I’ve been skipping a lot of grades and should be finished next year at some point.”

“Oh another genius! So tell me, what are you planning to do once you’re done?”

“FBI training.” She said proudly and Agent Gideon smiled.

“Well you’ve proven you know your stuff well. Keep it up and you’ll be in the BAU in no time. I’ll make sure of it. That’s how Spencer got in! Knew him when he was studying and could see his wits from miles away. Once he was done all he had to do was give me a call.”

If he was hinting at her doing the same thing, she might faint.

She’s always had a passion for justice. She was smart and wanted to use it for good. Help others. Save them. Make something of herself instead of falling into the same path are the one her mother is taking.

“So what have you found?” Agent Hotchner asked Jennifer who began filling him in on missing girl cases and had three pictures up on a clear board which Spencer was scribbling profusely on, while Derek read over the victims files.

“No sexual assault on any of them. I think JJ might be right. It might be a woman.”

Jennifer sighed. “But how is she doing it?”

“Being nice?” Bonnie suggested.

“Gaining their trust.” Said Gideon, taking a seat. “These young girls wouldn’t think twice about a woman or another young girl showing kindness would they? They’re more trustworthy than men.”

“I don’t know about you guys but I wouldn’t just walk away with a strange woman just because she’s nice to me.” Jennifer commented and Bonnie nodded her head agreeing.

Then Emily added, “Trustworthy. People of authority uh… police officers, nurses maybe, someone the public is brought up to know will help them.”

“So how’s she getting rid of the bodies.” Agent Hotchner asked the question they were all thinking.

“A car would be too small I think. Too easy to get evidence on it. So maybe a van, or a truck. Something bigger that would have space to hold someone.” Spencer spoke to the board he was staring at.

“Great. We’re ready to deliver the profile, good work guys.” Agent Hotchner left the room with the team following in his footsteps.

The whole police departement sat before them, looking up at them eagerly wanting just as much they did to catch the person doing this. Sandy from the park had also arrived. She wanted to find who was defiling her beloved park just like everyone else.

Agent Hotchner spoke first. “The person were looking for is female. All victims have been white so we feel safe to assume this unsub is too.”

Then Derek. “She’s someone trustworthy. It could be someone of the law or of some other authority. These girls don’t have to question whether or not they’re safe with the unsub.”

“She’s full of rage. These women are everything that she wants to be. Small, thin, pretty, and she’s taking her own insecurities out on them, shown by the over kill and cutting of hair.” Emily spoke up.

“So we’re looking for a woman who may not be the same age as these victims. She’s old enough to know the Livingstone area well and clever enough to plan out her attacks and kidnappings.” Said Spencer.

“That’s right. These aren’t spree killings or sudden fits of anger. These girls are being kidnapped, held, tortured, then murdered.” Agent Gideon finished, all of the detectives and officers had their mouths gaping. Sandy’s expression was sour and Bonnie couldn’t blame her. The innocence of these young girls were ripped from them cruelly. All because some bitch never learned how to love herself.

“That’s all for now. Thank you.” Agent Hotchner allowed the detectives to go back to work.

At that moment, Sandy had her phone to her ear, and looked wide eyed to Agent Hotchner. “Sir, they’ve found another body.”

“What? Already?” Bonnie followed quickly to keep up with his long strides and they ended up in the jeep, Emily and Derek in the back as Bonnie had accidentally taken the passenger seat. She could tell Derek was a little annoyed at that.

“Another body… they’re picking up the pace man.” Derek said worriedly and Agent Hotchner nodded.

“It’s weird… we were literally just there and the second we leave there’s another body… how?”

“Maybe they were watching us. They knew we were there and waited until we were gone to dump another.” Emily commented from her back seat.

Bonnie hadn’t seen anyone in the trees… maybe they were high up like a bird and she had missed it.

“Over this way!” Sandy yelled having beat them to the scene, this time in a small black car. The truck must be used for park purposes.

The team followed into the scraggly bushes, and went deep into the forest about a ten minute walk until they laid eyes on their latest victim.

Just the same as the last, but a more violent attack had occurred. The girls ear was missing, the other still intact with a dangly sapphire earring. Her face was practically gone. Mush.

“How could…” Bonnie choked and Emily lay a gently hand on her shoulder.

From the rest of her body, she looked young. Nineteen maybe twenty or eighteen. She had her whole life ahead of her and now it was nothing but ashes. They couldn’t even identify her yet…

“ID in her pocket. Drivers licence. Katy Darnwall, seventeen.” One of the officers handed Agent Hotchner the girls card with a glove. She was one of the girls on Spencer’s board.

Seventeen… possibly the youngest of the lot. Probably still in high school not yet completed her exams…

“That’s disgusting…” holding the back of her hand against her mouth, Bonnie took a deep breath while Emily squeezed her grip.

“How long has she been here?” Derek asked the officers.

“Dumped today. She’s still warm. A dog found her. He was off his leash.”

“If you like I can take you to the park station and we can call her parents.” Sandy suggested, looking down at the girl.

“No… we need to have a look around. See how the unsub got this deep in. There’s close trees, there has to be a path easier to get in.” Agent Hotchner shook his head and turned his attention to Emily and Derek.

“Split up and try and find the entrance, you too Bonnie, note down anything suspicious.”

And she obliged immediately. Anything not to look at the blood still pouring out of the young girls face.

On her way she went. Separating from the group with her notepad in hand. Writing as her mind refused to stop thinking for just a second.

“Woman… older… not very pretty, or thin.” She spoke out loud. “Truck or van…” just subconsciously, a face blinked in her mind. Sandy was a bit like that. She wasn’t trying to be mean or insulting but that’s just what the description made her think of. Maybe there’s someone living out here pretending to be a guide and luring these girls into a cabin or shed.

Bonnie had been walking through a dirt path for about ten minutes now, not even realising, and saw at the bottom of a hill was in fact, a shed. It was hard to see. Moss covered the sides and blended the building into the trees and bushes. Just like the rest of the forest, the trees were close together. Anyone walking past wouldn’t have even seen it.

But Bonnie really did love quizzes and challenges. Amazing at spot the difference and games were you had to find hidden objects in pictures that blended into its surroundings. She didn’t know what that game was called but she had named it ‘the chameleon game.’

Immediately she pulled out her phone to dial Agent Hotchners number, but no signal.

“Shit!” She cursed and turned back to the shed that looked pretty old. Shabby but… well kept. There was a garden with flowers. Tulips. And a small lake, almost like a big puddle about twenty feet away.

She couldn’t turn back now, she was afraid she’d forget her steps. So she went forward towards the shed.

Watching her footing, careful not to trip, she began her descent, and noticed there was a path to her left. That must be how this person is getting the victims out easily, instead of treading through all these branches. Another on the right near the puddle lake. Must be how they get in.

“Hey.” Bonnie’s soul almost left her body and she slipped down onto the dirty ground, covering her skirt in dry mud.

Whipping around she saw Sandy and sighed with relief, getting back to her feet. “Hey… did you know this shed was here?” She asked, pointing in the direction.

“Never seen that thing in my life.” The woman shrugged.

But she’s the head of the rangers right? She needs to know all about the park.

“How come?” She asked innocently, as anxiety began to fill her stomach, something wasn’t right.

“Just never saw it. Some of these woods are still undiscovered.”

Well that couldn’t be true. There was a map at the station for visitors so they don’t get lost. Unless this wasn’t on the map.

“Oh right… well…” she didn’t really know what to do now.

“We’ll check it out together alright? I’m here with you. Nothing to be afraid of.” Sandy’s smile had eased her, so she began to walk. Trusting her.

The closer to the shed she got, the louder the alarms were in her head. But she didn’t know what to do about them. Sandy was here, but Bonnie was beginning to doubt whether that was a good thing.

Older woman, not ideally pretty, not thin, trustworthy, authoritative, truck… it all added up and formed into the woman walking right next to her.

And… had she been following her? She was a long way away from the dump site, why hadn’t she let herself be known…

Sandy was a few steps in front of her, and Bonnie caught a glimpse of something shiny. “What’s that?” She had suddenly asked, curious on the little blue gem in Sandy’s hand, twirling between her fingers.

“Just a little something I found.”

Katy Darnwall’s missing earrings.

The look of realisation must have been clear, as Sandy smiled and approached Bonnie slowly, and once reached, took strands of her hair through her stubby fingers, admiring it in her hand.

“Y’know, in all my life I’ve actually never seen someone with ginger hair before. Must be a foreign thing. It’s very pretty. Just like you. You’re thin, small, got nice rosy cheeks.” To which she pinched Bonnies face. A little too hard and Bonnies breathing hitched.

She wanted to cry out of fear. Scream for Agent Hotchner or Emily who wouldn’t even hear her. Someone safe. Someone to save her.

“And gorgeous blue eyes! Y’know how rare it is for ginger people to have blue eyes? Only zero point two percent in the entire world has that.” She looked down at Bonnie with a twisted smile, still playing with her hair in her fingers, with her free hand she stroked her cheek.

“I bet you’ve had a lot of boyfriends huh?”

“N-no… I’ve never dated anyone.” And that was true. She didn’t have the time nor the confidence to do so.

“Oh really? Why’s that? You’re a really beautiful girl. No one would ever want to date someone like me.” Sandy laughed, a little crazed. “But you… I know everyone wants a piece of you, and I hate you!” The hair between Sandy’s fingers was yanked hair and Bonnie fell down, suddenly feeling the weight of a boulder coming down on her face.

Scared and unsure what was happening, she pushed up hard, and rolled down the rest of the hill with Sandy running behind her. Hitting her head on stones or twigs on the earthy ground until she came to a quick stop and jumped, bolting for the shed.

“Get back here you little shit!” Bonnie screamed with fright and tried to door handle which didn’t budge, and dipped out the way before the pocket knife in which Sandy had pulled out collider with the wooden door, piercing it right through.

As she sprinted behind the shed she whipped out her phone and prayed for even just a little signal, but came up blank. But she pressed the call button anyways, letting it ring in her pocket.

There was the path to her left. The one which Sandy must have been using to dispose the bodies. If she followed it, it could lead her back to the team. Back to Agent Hotchner who’d know what to do.

The air was went still. Bonnie stifled sobs from pressing her back against the shed, trying to hear footsteps or dirt crunching to get an idea on where Sandy was now.

But there was nothing. Which was more terrifying actually.

Run for it. You’re quick and she’s a little bigger than you are. She might not catch you.

Bonnie crept to the edge of the shed where she reluctantly peeked her head round the corner to see it open. Wanting to not think about anything anymore, her legs took control and she was running towards the path.

That was when Sandy pounced. She was a hunter. Knew how to catch prey in these woods, and she was pretty quick on her feet.

“HELP!” Bonnie screamed into the woods as hot tears rolled down her face. She didn’t have protection like the others with their guns. She had her bare hands and feet that were shaking all over she didn’t know how much she could run.

“HOTCH!” She screamed again, begging for the one member of the team she longed for. His approval, his praise, everything. He was just amazing. So calm and preserved yet caring and understanding. She felt safe when she worked with him and always felt bubbly when he smiled at her. He was the only person she thought of when running.

Sandy was catching at a frightening speed, like a cheeta chasing an antelope, and Bonnies skirt wasn’t in her favour, restricting the movement of her legs, which she would curse out later for possibly being the reason she had been caught so quickly.

Sandy was on top of her again in a flash, but she kicked with all her might and strength in her body to stop the woman from turning her into her next victim.

“Bonnie!” The sound of a man’s voice slipped through her ears, not really processing it at all as her brain was too busy instructing Bonnie on how to dodge a blade.

One hard kick after bringing her knees up close to her chin had done the trick to loosen the larger woman’s grip on her and she crawled backwards, eyes manic with fear but she had forgotten how to stand.

Though she didn’t have to.

“Stop right there!” It was Derek, standing on higher ground pointing his gun directly at Sandy who had not paid him any attention. Instead she was looking hungrily in the direction of Bonnies small frame. Snarling like an animal fighting for food.

The woman lunged and Bonnie screamed.

Then a gunshot.

Bonnies shut eyes tentatively opened, and was horrified by the bloody scene in front of her.

Sandy had been shot through the chest. One clean shot. Her blood pooled around her body, as well as dripped from Bonnies nose.

“Kid?! Are you alright?” Derek’s voice was muffled. She couldn’t stop staring at the woman.

“She tried… she tried to…” she was ashamed on how her sobs broke loose but was comforted by the strong arms of Derek around her.

Picking her up swiftly with the young girl clinging onto his shoulders, legs weak, she watched as Sandy’s lifeless figure became smaller and smaller until she was gone.

She must have fallen asleep or passed out because when she opened her eyes again, her and Derek had just arrived back at the park station.

The strong man put her down and steadied her with his hand.

“You alright? You’re not hurt or anything?” He questioned frantically, checking her for cuts or bruises.

“I don’t know… my arm is a little sore.” Derek pulled her blazer up and winced.

“Must have got you and you didn’t realise. Will need stitches.” His gaze softened and his hand caressed her cheek, it was much more friendly than Sandy’s.

“Some first case right?” She had tried to joke but choked on a sob afterwards.

There was embarrassment and let down. She wanted to be in this field so badly but had fumbled her first chance.

“Bonnie! Oh my god, thank god you’re safe.” Once the pair walked in, Agent Hotchner sped over and had engulfed her in a hug, which she returned tightly. “You did it. You found her, seriously well done.”

She didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

“Your call to me, Garcia tracked it and Derek found you first. Officers are down at the shed and have found two girls. Without you, they wouldn’t have been found.”

Bonnie could have vomited now with the knowledge that she had been right at that shed and had no idea… but how could she? She tried the door and it was locked. She couldn’t get in if she wanted to. She couldn’t kick down door the way Derek could.

“But I failed.” Her lip quivered.

“Failed?” Jennifer scoffed with a smile. “Bonnie you caught her. And those other girls are safe now because of you. I’d call that success.”

“Days in the field are hard. Sometimes it gets rough.” Agent Gideon nodded his head.

“But if Derek hadn’t-“

“No. Enough. You did good. And I’m sorry for sending you out there alone… if I had any idea then…” Agent Hotchner sighed. “We found out probably the same time as you when we realised Sandy had gone. We were looking everywhere and your call helped us find you.”

Bonnie pulled the phone out of her pocket and checked that it had eventually went through.

“Thank you.” She whispered and Agent Hotchner led her outside with the rest of the team, away to get some medical treatment to which Bonnie still couldn’t really feel her arm. She just knew that it hurt. The blood on her coat said otherwise however.”

Fresh stitches, clean clothes, a good rest. The plane back to DC would be a little while and she was very excited to sleep, though she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to commit to it.

She’d never been attacked like that before. It had been a serious eye opener to who the BAU actually deal with. But then there was thrill to do it all over.

“So…caught your first bad guy today huh?” Emily said with a smirk on her face at the other side of the table in the jet.

Bonnie chuckled. “I guess so.”

“I read your notes. You were ahead of us. I couldn’t imagine how scary that must have been though. Figuring it out alone when the person is right there next to you… that must have sucked ass.”

“It did. But it’s over now.”

Emily winked to Bonnie. “Damn right it’s over. If you were of age I’d offer you a drink.”

“Legal age in Scotland is eighteen y’know.”

“Yeah well, I’m not ready to lose my badge yet.” The two of them laughed. Bonnie didn’t drink anyways, she hated it.

“So… would you like to tell me what the first body you ever saw was then?” Emily asked and Bonnie twisted her mouth as she stared around the window at the soft clouds passing by.

“My dad.” She said absently. “Drug overdose. I was six. Me and my mum have been ourselves ever since.”

Emily frowned deeply and stretched her hand over to where Bonnies lay on the table. “Well, if you ever need someone I’m only a phone call away. We all are. Each of us all have some sort of trouble one way or another… you’re part of the team even if you’re an assistant. You’re part of the BAU.”

Bonnie smiled in spite of the void in her chest, sniffed before closing her eyes.

“Thank you… Emily.”

17 notes · View notes

cirquevalentine · 6 months ago

Text

Okay, so hear me out: What if the characters of the greatest procedurals ended up in Twisted Wonderland?

One stormy night, The BAU, Monk, Natalie, Sharona, Randy, Stottlemeyer, and the Jeffersonian and Psych all ended up at NRC?

After the initial panic, The entrance ceremony is put on hold as the body of a reporter is found ritualistically killed surrounded by the bones of a long-dead alumni.

The groups, along with Yuu and Grim take the case and after solving it in a single night, they’re given Ramshackle which is fixed quicker than in canon, and they and the TWST Boys solve various crimes around Sage’s Isle and Twisted Wonderland.

Riddle would HATE Monk and Psych because Shawn, Gus, and Monk each tickle a particular irritation. Shawn and Gus are just Adeuce without magic and somehow both smarter AND dumber. While Monk just tries to make Heartslabyul even and neat.

Derrick Morgan and Leona would frequently butt heads, but at the end of the day, have some begrudging respect.

Azul is euphoric from the groups using his Mostro Lounge as a meeting spot and getting info on the various goings on

Kalim LOVES solving the various mysteries, and Jamil constantly panics from trying to keep Kalim safe

Vil’s studio and agent constantly call him and ask him to star in a procedural based on his new adventures in being a detective, and Neige admits he’s kind of jealous that Vil is such a good detective, especially when someone else tries to kill Neige during the VDC

Idia is a nervous wreck, and Penelope’s comments DO NOT help his social skills. It’s funny to make him stutter and go pink though!

Malleus is intrigued by the whole thing and is one of the groups most staunch supporters.

Ace, Deuce, Jack, Sebek, Silver, Epel, and Grim all get extra credit since the First and Second years are the ones who help the detectives the most and start to mature a LOT throughout the events and year.

While some of the antics the detectives get up to can annoy the teachers, at least their presence means Crowley has to actually do SOMETHING instead of just flitting about.

#psych #twisted wonderland #comedy

0 notes

jared-19-cant-reid · 4 years ago

Text

Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.”

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection.

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it.

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family.

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress.

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you.

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you.

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother.

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you.

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense.

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face.

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now.

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks.

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress. His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot.

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you.

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over.

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight.

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real.

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most.

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well.

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you.

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion.

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance.

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace.

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high.

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure.

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions.

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment.

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.”

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe.

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

859 notes · View notes

another-fantasy-world · 4 years ago

Text

Theirs, In Every Way Possible

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Pairing: Jemily x Fem! Reader, JJ x Reader x Emily

Summary: JJ and Emily thought that their life couldn’t get any better, until they met you. However, what happens when you aren’t completely truthful to them and the team who was already a family to you?

Warnings: Canon Violence, Reader came from a serial killer family, Reader has so many traumas, Homophobia, Reader has trust issues and is very indecisive. Y/N might frustrate you. Major Character Injuries.

Word Count: 3816 words

GIF isn’t mine

This case is completely made up from the top of my head, so if there are any similarities in the episodes in CM, they were probably just carved in my brain. Also, this might be a little ooc because I can’t just seem to tap into their personalities just yet

I’m sorry, I tried making this as angsty as I possibly could, I’m still working on my angst.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You were fairly new to the BAU, only working there for about 6 months, and yet you fit in really easily. It definitely helped that you were the sunshine- Penelope Garcia’s bestfriend and that Erin Strauss couldn’t bring herself to dislike you. But what matters the most to them is that fact that you were a genius. No, not like Dr. Reid genius. You understood the serial killers in a personal level, and you would often coax the weapon out of their hand and get them to submit and surrender. Of course, when they confronted you about it, you easily lied and they somehow accepted that. So much for being profilers.

You never really did know when you first started seeing the couple in a new light. Yes you liked them both. It never really mattered since you just knew that it would just fade away. It was already embedded in your brain that everyone eventually leaves and that being too close to anyone would only get them killed. You learned that the hard way. But that didn’t stop you from admiring them from the shadows. It didn’t stop you from smiling whenever they talk, it didn’t stop you from memorizing their features like they were about to vanish into thin air, it didn’t stop you from admiring how JJ controlled the media, or how Emily used that voice when she’s speaking to the unsub and it didn’t stop you from admiring how well they fit each other, how their hands fit like puzzle pieces, and how your heart clenches in awe when you see them cuddled up with each other. You didn’t know what you would do with yourself, you desperately needed to get away from them, but you also wanted and needed to be around them. God, you knew you sounded like a hormonal teenager.

“This is Daryln Garcia, Ahron Balydyn, Abbey Banagher and Jehoushua Castiel. Their names are on top of the list of the recent chain of murders all over each state.” Garcia winced at the pictures that she had to present to the whole team, she never did seem to get used to it

“Some of these are from waaaaay long before, why only now?” Emily asks from her seat , which was coincidentally next to yours

“The M.O’s are all over the place, which is why they didn’t connect the murders until now. The only thing connecting them are black sticky notes that are posted on the wall and on their body.” Rossi reads out.

“Where’s the latest one?” You ask, sipping your coffee

“...Los Angeles, California.”

“Wheels up in Five.” Hotch concludes, as everyone gets up to gather themselves.

After talking and discussing the case a bit more, You all decide to calm down for a few hours, and each and everyone of you set off to do your own things.

“Uh-huh, you’re staring at them again huh.” Garcia teased you through the screen.

Spencer was memorizing and rereading the case files,

Hotch was talking with Rossi, probably discussing the case,

Morgan has his headphones clogging his ears,

JJ and Emily were cuddling with each other as JJ munched on her cheetos.

You were currently seated away from the team, just out of earshot because you knew that Garcia would begin spouting non-sense.

“Shut up...” You blushed bright red. “...I told you this once, while I was drunk and now you bring it up in every conversation that we have. It’s just a silly little crush, sunshine. It’ll pass.” You told her, playfully glaring at the screen, to which she laughed

“Sure, Gummy Bear. Keep telling yourself that.” She grinned.

When you were about to land, you hung up on your bestfriend before steeling yourself, You didn’t need to acknowledge the gut feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you most certainly ignored the growing headache that you have.

JJ and Emily certainly noticed you right from the start. The woman who had no experience in the field whatsoever is suddenly the finest one they ever seen. (or maybe that’s just because they were so attracted to you that they happen to pay too much attention) That wasn’t the only thing they noticed though: They also noticed the tiny change in tone when you talk to either or both of them at the same time, or the way that your head would be the first to turn when they walk in the bullpen, or the way that your eyes would quickly scan them from head to toe before you bury your face into the paperwork that Hotch gave you, just a slight hint of embarrassment in your eyes peeking out from the cover or maybe it was the way that you would breathe a little heavier and talk a little faster when you discussed the case with them. You weren’t painfully obvious, but they were profilers for God’s sake, they notice everything, especially if it’s about you. There was just something so painfully attractive about you that interests them so much. The way your hair flowed as it dances with the wind, The way you licked your lips since they were dry (They tried to get you to use a lip gloss or a lip balm but you fought them, real hard.), The way your body tackled unsubs who got into your nerves (They always had to change clothes after that...), The way your eyes shined when you successfully return and reunite families, The way your mind worked: How you analyze quick, How you look at things in all angles, How you tried to put yourself in the very scene, How you work so well with Spencer and How you always seem to know what to say, every damn time. Maybe it was the way you broke social construct just by wearing a suit everytime you go to work, or it’s probably the smirks you give them when you’re right about something and they were in the wrong. (It makes them want to pounce on you, but they restrain themselves, taking their frustrations out on each other in the privacy of their own home.) But what they hate the most, it how dense you are. At this point, JJ could send you a love letter and you would think that it’s a recent case evidence.

"...This is Dr. Reid, SSA Prentiss, Y/LN, Morgan, Jareau, and Rossi."

“Right this way, we have arrested a prime suspect this morning.”

“How?” You ask, lifting two duffle bags and setting them down to your designated table

“She was found lurking around the crime scene and a bloody shirt matching one of the latest victims in his backpack.”

“Can we have her bag?” Emily asks, approaching the officer

“Yeah sure. Right this way Agent.” He leads her to somewhere while you trail Hotch to the interrogation room, only to freeze in your tracks.

“What the hell” you whispered under your breath, feeling the same suffocating aura when you felt like your past is catching up to you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You hear Derek ask you.

“I can’t do this. I need to call Garcia. Excuse me.” You replied with a look in your eyes. Derek recognized that same look with Emily when she ran away, pursuing Doyle to protect the team, and he’ll be damned if he let’s history repeat itself.

“Nuh-uh sweetcheeks. I know that look. Tell me.” Derek grips your forearm gently.

“Derek. I promise I won’t run away. And if I’m not back within an hour, track my phone and my ring.” you assured him, pulling your phone out and hurrying outside.

“Garcia. Please tell me that my identity is still concealed.” You begged Penelope while you were stress smoking at the back of the precinct.

“It is! I promise! There’s no way they would find you! through technology at least.” she ranted. You see, Penelope Garcia doesn’t do well with secrets, but you really needed her, and she understood that. Which is why your secret is the best kept secret she has, she hid your secret for a year now.

“Then tell me why my aunt, who might I add is an absolute psychopath, is in our major suspect list right now?” you panicked, knowing that your “family” has somehow tracked you

“It might be a coincidence, Gummy Bear. But I will look into it! I promise.”

“Garcia. One more favor. Back up all my files, all of it. From my work laptop, my FBI files, my personal devices, all of it. Then delete them all. I’m going to use a disposable starting now. Pull up the GPS service for my ring, keep an eye on me at all times. I’ll be damned if I see more of my family.” You spat out, stomping out the light of your cigarette, before popping a mint.

“Consider it done. Don’t you think it’s time to tell them?” she carefully asks, knowing how sensitive you are.

“Thank you Garcia, And I will. Once the time is right.” You grumbled, knowing that it’ll be sooner than later.

“Y/N. Tell them before it’s too late. Please, for your sake and for ours too.”

“I will short stuff. I will.”

For days you successfully evaded interrogating your aunt, subtly helping them as much as you can without raising suspicion. You knew that this secrecy is going to be revealed soon

“Y/N. We picked up coffee for you.” You suddenly hear JJ behind you, Emily’s hand gently placing the coffee in front of you, her eyes filled with concern

“You didn’t go to your hotel room did you?” Emily accused

“...No” You dropped your head onto the files in front of you

“You need your sleep Y/N. You’re no use when your brain can’t even function.” JJ retorted, taking a seat beside you, with Emily by her side.

“...Fine. A nap on that sofa. That’s it.” You bargained, determination shines in your eyes

“Okay. Go.”

And then, the moment your head hits the arm rest, you blacked out. Only waking up to Derek’s frantic shaking of your body

“Y/N! Get up!” It was rare for Derek to be this panicked and scared, and that gave you anxiety

“What? What is it?!” You stood up, feeling yourself get dizzy my how fast you got up.

“JJ and Emily are gone.”

What?

“Wait- What do you mean- How long was I asleep?” You blinked

“Precisely 4 hours, 36 minutes and 56 seconds.” Reid blurts out from infront the whiteboard.

“What happened for fuck’s sake?” You sat back down, rubbling your head

“Hotch was about to send you in on a lead, but they both volunteered instead.” Rossi explained

“And no one sent backup?” You were angry, barely keeping it in, you were slowly regretting keeping your secret now

“No one knew until now, when JJ and Emily didn’t come back after an hour, Derek went after them, only to find this.” Rossi lifts up the black sticky note.

“Family for Family, Blood for Blood”

“Is it possible that Rayna Torres, is their relative?”

“ Call and Tell Penelope I said Yes.” You point to Derek, knowing that Garcia will know what to do. You’ll let your bestfriend explain, she’ll explain it better since your mind is fogged

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your face hardened, clenching your jaw. You rarely showed anger, or annoyance for that matter, so they didn’t know what to do when you stormed off in pursuit of Hotch.

You found Hotch in the interrogation room, silently observing your Aunt

“Let me talk to her.” You say, earning a nod from him

You stormed in, slamming the door behind you.

“Listen here, you little psychopath. Where are they.” His eyes widened slightly, Hotch didn’t expect you to be so hostile

“There you are. I was beginning to think that we got the wrong team.” She grinned, intertwining her fingers, her wrists still bound to the table by a handcuff.

“I am not in the mood for your games.” You deadpanned, gripping the table to conceal your anger

“Hmmn. You always did have your father’s temper.”

“WHERE. ARE. THEY.” You slammed your palms on the metal table, making a slight dent on it. Ignoring the pain, you glared at her hard

“You know where they are child. I know that you know where they are.” The devilish grin once again appeared on her face.

“If I step foot inside that warehouse, and they are not there, I can’t guarantee your head will still be attached to your shoulders when they prepare you for your casket. Auntie.” At that statement, you walked away with a surprised Hotch on your trail.

He treated you like his very own ever since you knocked on his door, crying your eyes out, ranting about your family. Of course he noticed the small slip-ups you accidentally let out especially when you’re drunk. But it was never enough to completely put the picture together. He knows that you treat him as a father figure. Which is why he can’t let you go in there alone.

“No. Absolutely not. You might die Y/N!” You raised your brow at him, the bulletproof vest never felt as heavy as it is now

“You’ve known me for 6 months, you’ve known them for years. Why are you picking me over them? You know that I’m what they want. You or any other person steps in though that door, they’re all going to be dead before they see JJ and Emily. Not to mention they might kill JJ and Emily too. Please Hotch. This is my battle. If I die, I die. I don’t want to live knowing I could’ve done something.” Those were your last words before you slowly walked to the warehouse door after getting wired.

“This really isn’t the best first impressions you could make on your future daughters-in-law. Father.” You spoke as you saw him pointing a revolver at her, at your Emily.

You almost collapse at their state. JJ’s beautiful blonde hair caked with dirt and blood, she was staring at you, shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Her lip is swollen and you could see multiple bruises forming.

However, Emily’s state was much worse. Her eyebrow was bleeding, her knuckles are bruised, she has small cuts everywhere and you could see that she was struggling to stand up despite being tied by her hands to the ceiling

“This one has a sharp tongue daughter. i don’t appreciate it.” He snarled, now pointing his gun at you

“Last one who said that exact words to had his dick cut in half. Where’s my jerkwad of a brother anyways? How’s his dick? Still has my bite marks? Scars maybe?” You smirked, hearing your “mother” load her gun

“Disrespectful Bitch. Don’t talk to your brother like that, he’s better than you ever will be” She snarled, firing at your feet, slashing through your pants, making you bleed slightly, making JJ scream through her gag.

“Your aim’s getting rusty.” You pulled out both your guns, pointing them at you biological “parents”

“And you’re wearing a bulletproof vest. Take it off and kick your guns to us. You know what’ll happen if you don’t” you gritted your teeth, taking off the vest despite the protests of Hotch and the rest of the team

“Happy?” “Very.”

“Now let them go.” You frowned

“No. You see, since you do love them right?” Your father smirked, making you frown

“Yes. I do. I’m in the same team as them for fuck’s sake!”

“No. No. That’s not just it. You love them in a different way as well. Say it.”

“...” Your mother rolled her eyes at your silence and fired two bullets to Emily and JJ, scraping Emily’s cheek and JJ’s shoulder.

You flinched, you knew not to show emotion, but it’s painful to see the women you love get hurt.

“Okay! Fine! You want me to say that I love them? I will.” You gritted out

“Go on then, you know how I love my drama shows.” You glared at them, taking a deep breath in, watching them walk out of the room, a bright spotlight aligns itself on the three of you, It really is a sick TV show that your parents would love to watch.

“What they say is true. I don’t know if you noticed it yet. But I do love you, both of you. I really hoped that I could tell you over dinner, or a cup of coffee, but I guess life has other plans. Loving the both of you seems so weird, and unconventional, but who wants to be normal and boring am I right?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, which they didn’t appreciate.

You moved your hand to their gags slowly, listening for complains from your parents, hearing none, your grabbed their gags and pull them down.

“Y/N-” They both started

“Shhh. Let me speak, you know I don’t have much time.” You smiled, implying that you wouldn’t get out of this alive.

“I notice everything. I do. I’m not as dense as you think I am. I just... I didn’t like the thought of you both getting attached to me. I love you both so much that I knew that if they catch up to me, I could die, or you could get hurt. And now this happened.” JJ shook her head as if to say it isn’t your fault.

“I love you both so much, I love the way you look at each other, often wished I could look at you both like that. I love the way you both force me to sleep then give me coffee in the morning. I love the way your brow furrows when you see a detail in the reports that displeases you, and then you’ll playfully glare at JJ and I when you notice that we’re laughing at you. There’s a lot more that I want to say to you, but I don’t have enough time.” you say, moving closer to them, tears staining their bruised cheek.

“I’ll see you in our usual spot in the coffee shop across the street?” You whisper to JJ, kissing her cheek

“I’ll be copying your move now.” You chuckle lightly, kissing her cheek

A slow clap rang throughout the room.

“Now that is a perfect drama and revenge.” You whipped your head around, only seeing your father. Pulling out your knife from your thigh, you run towards him recklessly, the screams of JJ and Emily’s pleads piercing your ears.

And then three gunshots rang throughout the warehouse, Derek kicked the door down, chasing after your laughing family. Your ears were ringing, you didn’t even notice that you collapsed from the impact. You couldn’t believe it actually worked. You could feel the sticky, red colored cornstarch mixture on your abdomen. However the growing pain on your shoulders prevented you from celebrating.

“Fuck.” You whimpered out, the impact of the bullets on your abdomen radiating throughout your body, yet you can also feel the bullet that’s still in your shoulder.

“Y/N. Stay with us come on” Emily whispered, despite her being in a worse condition that you, She still has your hand in a death grip.

“I’ll be fine Em.” You reassure her through jagged breaths, JJ’s crying face invading your view made you smile too.

The moment that Emily and JJ were free from their binds, they immediately limped towards you as fast as they can, both of them on each of your side, silently wishing that they had more time

“They only managed to shoot me on my shoulder okay? I’ll be fine.” You could see the confusion in their faces, which faded when the paramedics unbuttoned your stained white shirts, only to find another bulletproof vest and an empty plastic bag, previously filled with what they can assume was fake blood.

Emily’s eyes widen, what you did was dangerous, and extremely risky. You gambled on a unpredictable mess and she wondered how you got Hotch to approve of what you did, only to find out later that Hotch didn’t know either.

You could only smile at them, feeling the drugs the paramedics injected take effect, slowly drowsing off. You were happy they were somewhat safe. You were also happy that you managed to stab your father in his arm. Even if your brother did shoot your shoulder from behind, you were still happy with how things turned out.

Almost regretting what you did when you woke up to a staring Emily, JJ quietly handing you water, before they both scolded you like there’s no tomorrow.

However, after what seemed like ages of reprimanding from the older women, they both pecked your lips before asking you out on a date.

I guess it all worked out in the end.

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss x reader #jemily x reader #emily prentiss imagine

311 notes · View notes

scripts4dreamers · 4 years ago

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt.2

Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Again! Massive shoutout to @pirateismywayofspeaking for the constant support and ideas! And lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

—————————-

It’s a well known fact that there are three certainties in life; death, taxes and the willpower of one Penelope Garcia. In less than an hour she had somehow organized to get all your clothes and personal possessions delivered right to the BAU, packed in your favorite suitcases and all. A couple of things had to be kept in evidence because the UnSub might have come into contact with them, but all the important stuff was there. It was comforting, having your stuff safe with you and, as you sat through the long and rigorous process of being interviewed, you felt better.

“And you’re 100% sure that none of your employees could have possibly done this?” Rossi asked, “Maybe someone you recently fired? Or someone who has a history of violence?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Rossi, come on. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to hire someone with a violent past?”

“You checked everyone out?”

“Full background checks on all three employees,” you agreed, “the harshest thing on any of their records was a parking ticket and a decade old charge for underage drinking.”

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples right where you knew he got headaches.

“We know the poem is significant to the UnSub. It’s an old love poem, so it’s got to be someone who has some sort of connection to you,” he repeated, “it's personal.”

You shook your head, “Hotch, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t had a romantic relationship in years. There’s not a lot of time when you work 14 hour days.”

“Don’t we know it,” Rossi agreed, “so, a stalker, maybe?”

“That’s a hell of a way to make first contact,” you scoffed, “a phone call would be less risky.”

“And less effective.”

You conceded the point with a head tilt, and then looked back at Hotch, “Hotch, can we take a break? We’ve been at this for hours.”

“Of course,” he agreed, “get some rest, Y/L/N.”

“No, it’s okay, there’s work to be done here. I can stay,” you assured, stretching your stiff limbs.

Hotch shot you a look, but said nothing, obviously sensing that you weren’t going to give in without some sort of fight. Instead, he just gave you a terse nod, and walked out, leaving you with Rossi.

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” He said.

You smiled, shrugging, “What can I say, Ros? I learned from the best.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling your hair as he walked past you, “Good to have you back, kid.”

The bullpen was busy when you walked back in, suitcases in hand, striding your way over to your old desk. It’s scary how little had really changed in the year since you’d been gone. Aside from Spencer’s semi-annual hair evolution, everything was the same; the smells, the sights, even the comforting clack of Garcia’s heels against the floor. It was comforting, almost painfully so but, as you reached your old desk, you noticed something was wrong.

“Whose stuff is this?” You asked, gesturing to the stacks of files and piles of paper scattered all over the surface.

“Mine,” Emily said, not even looking up from her work.

“But...you have a desk,” you pointed out.

“And now I have two,” she replied simply, “you can sit somewhere else.”

She was being stubborn and you felt a lick of irritation flare up inside your chest. Emily Prentiss had been one of your closest friends for years and, when you’d left the BAU, she’d taken it the hardest. Any other time, you would have understood her resentment but, given the circumstances, you weren’t feeling particularly generous.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “And where do you suggest I sit?”

Emily shrugged and gave you a sickly sweet smile, “You can share with Reid.”

You felt yourself flush with heat. Emily had known about your feelings for Spencer, she’d even encouraged you to act on them. You knew she’d never actually betray your trust, but even that subtle dig was enough to make you want to argue. You opened your mouth but, before you could say anything, Spencer interrupted.

“Here, Y/N,” he smiled, patting a spot beside him, “I’ve got space.”

You pressed your lips together, but relented when he took the time to pull an empty chair over for you to sit in.

“Thanks, Reid,” you said, taking the offered seat.

“So, did you and Hotch figure anything out?” Spencer asked.

You shook your head, “Nothing we didn’t already know. Rossi thinks it might be some kind of stalker?” You offered.

Spencer frowned, “A stalker? That doesn’t make any sense, what kind of stalker starts off their pursuit with a murder?”

“A very, very desperate one.” Emily offered.

You wanted to snap something like; ‘oh, so now you’re talking to me?’ but you bit your tongue. You knew you were on edge, and now wasn’t the time to lash out at the only people who could really help you.

“Or very deranged.” Spencer suggested

You shuddered, picturing a faceless man in all black running his blood soaked hands across your walls, drawing a jagged smiley face above your bed, memorizing the faces in your pictures. You exhaled and pushed the thought away.

“Does this even count as an escalation?” You asked, “I’m not sure there’s really anywhere to go from here.”

You were met with stony silence as Emily and Spencer inspected their respective files. You knew what they were thinking, what everyone was thinking; whatever this was, it was bad news.

“Do we know who our victim is, yet?” Spencer asked.

“Nope,” you sighed, “the UnSub burned off his fingerprints and removed several of his molars before he dumped the body, the ME is doing her best to get a DNA match, but it’ll take time.”

“The mutilation is odd, considering there wasn’t any evidence of torture on the victim before they died,” Spencer said.

“It’s gotta be a forensic countermeasure,” Emily agreed, “but it’s extremely sophisticated. Our UnSub must have experience with law enforcement.”

“But as a perp or a cop?”

You sighed and buried your head in your hands, letting the familiar back and forth wash over you like white noise. You’d had this conversation before, many many times, and it never got any easier. Usually you lived for the puzzle but, now that you were the one under scrutiny, it felt like your brain was rebelling against you.

“Y/N/N?” Spencer asked, touching your shoulder gently and snapping back to reality.

“Mm?” You replied.

His face softened as he took in the exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “Just a little drained, that’s all.”

The clicking of heels against the floor drew your attention and you looked up just in time to see Garcia swooping in with her purse.

“You ready to go, crime fighter?” She smiled.

“Go where?” You asked,

“Home!” She smiled, “I have the honor and privilege of hosting you tonight.”

“Garcia-“ you started.

“No! No arguing.” She insisted, “I’ve already found us a lovely little Thai place for dinner, and there’s a bunch of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lined up on my DVR.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes fondly, “I hate how well you know me.”

She smiled devilishly, “Sounds good, right?”

“It sounds incredible and you know that because you’re a super genius who knows literally everything.” You teased, pushing yourself onto your feet, “Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s go.”

As you made your way out of the office, you cast one last look over your shoulder, smiling when Spencer met your eye and gave you a small wave.

————————-

“Okay, Sugar Plum, spill,” Penelope pushed, handing you a full glass of wine, “how’re you really doing?”

“With what?”

Penelope shot you an incredulous look, “With, you know, all of it. The murder, the mystery, being back at work, the Spencer Reid of it all.”

You spluttered through a sip of wine, “The what? ‘Nel, you can’t be serious.”

“What? I’m just asking,” she insisted, “he followed you out earlier, you’re sharing a desk now...it wouldn’t be crazy if maybe your old crush came creeping back in.”

“Penelope” you started, “some creep dropped a dead body in my bookstore and broke into my apartment and you think I’m thinking about Spencer?” She didn’t answer, just raising her eyebrows and you sighed, sliding down the couch, “Okay so I’m pathetic.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted, “You guys were like two peas in a pod, back in the day. Plus, you’ve seen like a thousand dead bodies, you’re probably just desensitized.”

“Still,” you sulked, “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about Spence.”

“Naaaaaaaaw,” she swooned, squeezing your knee, “you called him ‘Spence’, you haven’t done that in ages.”

“Fuck off, Nel” you said without any real malice, burying your face in your hands and sighing again, “please tell me I’m being ridiculous.”

Garcia smiled, a knowing glint in her dark blue eyes as she sipped her wine and watched you squirm. She’d kept in touch with you when you left the BAU, insisting on weekly brunch meetups and girls nights and a million other things that you’re not sure you would’ve survived without. She’d been like a lifeline in those first few months and, because of that, she was the only one who really knew how hard leaving had been for you. She’d been the one who sat through the hours of crying and panicking and wondering who you were without your job, who’d held your hand when you went to get a small business loan, who’d sampled your cookie recipes and helped you design uniforms. Penelope Garcia had been there for all of it. You had a photo of the two of you together at the bookstore next to your bed. It was one of your most treasured possessions.

“Now, Sugar Plum, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for you and the Boy Wonder. He’s lovely, you’re lovely; he loves you, you love him, I love you both, it’s a match made in FBI heaven as far as I’m concerned-“

“But?” You prompted with a rueful smile.

“But,” Penelope agreed, “he took it really hard when you left, and I’m not sure how he’ll handle losing you a second time.”

You frowned, “He never lost me. None of you lost me, I just got a different job! It’s not my fault that basically no one bothered to keep in touch.”

Penelope’s face softened and she smiled at you sympathetically, “Pumpkin, you know it’s not like that. When you’re in the BAU, it’s like we’re living in our own little crime bubble, everything outside just kind of….fades, you know?”

“I know…”

“And with Spencer, well, you know he’s never been the best at dealing with abandonment, the poor thing’s been through so much already,” Penelope continued, “he tried to keep in touch. He really did, and he talked about you all the time.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just-“ she shrugged and squeezed your knee again, “I don’t want you to think that he forgot about you, that’s all.”

You felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gripped Garcia’s hand.

“Thanks, Nel.”

You knew she was right. Life in the BAU wasn’t like life on the outside; you lived by different rules, took different risks, valued different things. It was strange and intoxicating and you really couldn’t fault your teammates for continuing to play the game the way they always had. You’d chosen to leave and you had to live with the consequences of that.

“Can we talk about something besides boys now, please?” You asked, “I want this girl’s night to pass the bechdel test.”

She smiled and clapped her perfectly manicured hands, “Oh do not fret, ma Cherie because I’ve got so much to catch you up on-“

You listened with rapt attention as Garcia filled you in on the last twelve months of FBI gossip. You laughed together, ate Thai food and just relaxed together. With every Perfectly Penelope story, you felt a little more of your tension slip away and, by the time you made it to bed, you were feeling almost normal.

Penelope had made up the couch for you, complete with pillows and blankets and a homemade quilt. It was comfortable, too comfortable. So comfortable, that your brain had way too much time to mull over what Penelope had said earlier.

Spencer hadn’t just forgotten about you. What did that mean? He’d taken it hard when you left...the questions bounced around your mind like wasps, keeping you awake. Without meaning to, your mind started to drift, sifting through the years worth of memories you’d kept locked away in a box in the back of your mind.

————————

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” you laughed, “I’m fine, Spence.”

“You’re not fine, Y/N, you got shot.” Spencer reminded you, his eyes still sparkling with the relief of seeing you alive and in good spirits.

You were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a throbbing pain resonating from the wound in your shoulder as the police searched through the nearby crime scene and Spencer inspected your face. It was cold and dark, but the sirens and flashing lights meant that it was anything but peaceful, and you knew it would still be many hours before either you or Spencer got any sleep.

“Yeah well, we’ve all been shot,” you pointed out, “and, statistically speaking, we have a 100% survival rate.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so you knew he wasn’t too mad.

“You’re bastardizing my beautiful statistical analysis and using it for evil. Remind me why I’m bothering to check on you, again?” He teased.

“Because you loooooove me,” you teased back, jostling his shoulder with yours, “and because I just took a bullet to the shoulder for you.”

He chuckled but avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes, “Yeah that would explain it.”

Something in the atmosphere changed and you looked over at Spencer, noticing the way he worried at the inside of his cheek with his hands in his pockets. His brow was furrowed too, like he was sad, and something in your chest pinched.

“You alright there, doc?” You asked.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, looking up and catching your eye.

You paused, “don’t do what?”

“Take a bullet to the shoulder for me,” he explained, “get hurt trying to protect me. Promise me you won’t do it again?”

You pressed your lips together, recognizing the same feeling of fear and guilt in Spencer that you, yourself, felt any time someone you cared about was in danger. You reached out, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Spencer held on for a second longer, his dark eyes filling with something as he took you in.

“You know I can’t promise that, Spence,” you said gently, “if we’re ever in a situation like this again….no way I’m just letting you die to avoid a couple of stitches.”

“No, you don’t-” he paused, getting himself worked up, “you don’t get it. I watched my girlfriend get shot right in front of me, I-I’ve lost so many people that I care about, Y/N, and I can’t lose anyone else. Not for something as stupid as my own life.”

“Your life isn’t some insignificant thing, Spence,” you insisted, “it’s important! To me, to the team, to everyone. We’re a family, Spencer, families have each other’s backs. Always.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, carding his fingers through his hair like he was agitated.

“Just-” he started again, “just promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I can’t.” you insisted, “I can’t make that promise.

He turned to face you, looking more tired than you’d seen him in weeks, “Then promise you’ll be careful. Promise me I won’t lose you too?”

Your heart ached, and you longed to reach out and wrap him up in your arms, but you restrained yourself.

“How about this; I’ll promise that you won’t lose me, if you promise that we’ll always be best friends, and that you’ll try to start valuing your own life as much as you value mine or Morgan’s, deal?” You offered, extending your hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer frowned, opening his mouth to argue but, before he could, an agent interrupted.

“Agent Y/L/N? Dr. Reid? Agent Hotchner is looking for you.”

———————————-

You snapped back to reality with a jolt, and realised you were lonely. So much time had passed since that night, but you remembered it all perfectly, every detail. It wasn’t an especially meaningful night, there were a million moments just like it, but something about it had stuck. Maybe it was the potential, the wondering, that thing that he never got to say. You wish you’d gotten to hear it now.

You fumbled around in the dark for your cellphone, typing out a message and pressing send before you could think better of it. It was short, and to the point, and you would be shocked if he responded but, once it was done, you felt something in your chest loosen, like maybe you’d been wanting to send that message for a really long time.

To Spencer Reid: Hey, Reid? I’m sorry I left, I never meant to break my promise.

With the heavy weight of remembering suddenly lifted, you realised how tired you were, and you let sleep drag you under. If you’d stayed awake a little longer, you might not have missed the way Spencer kept typing, typing, typing away some message he never sent. Or the eventual response, which only came in three hours later:

You never broke your promise, Y/N. I broke mine.

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu

#jordsie #jordsie writes #cm #cm imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanons #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x you #matthew gray gubler #Penelope garcia #penelope garcia imagine

261 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

Text

Savoureux

1x13

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, angst

Author’s Note: I am super super happy with how this whole season turned out. I might take a few days break of posting to simulate a very small season hiatus but I absolutely adored this and I’m so excited to do more. I think this stuff is some of the stuff that I was most proud of. And y’all...I love will graham (and hannibal lecter which is gonna show more hopefully in season 2!)

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine.

Official Episode Summary : The BAU team finds evidence linking Abigail to the Minnesota Shrike victims; Will checks Abigail out of the hospital; Hannibal convinces Jack that Will is capable of murder.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll

(not my gif)

You stepped into your home. You had spent the whole afternoon, much into the night trying to contact Will who hadn’t picked up his phone. You had been dragged along by Hannibal Lecter as you continued to complain about how Will had not done the things he had said. You dragged your feet and faced the wall as you kicked off your shoes. You would have no sleep tonight. You would be forced to sit at home, think about where Will had gone.

Will hadn’t ever gone anywhere without telling you if he knew it was going to worry you. He would leave a note, a call, a text. You were forced to wonder where he had gone. Why he hadn’t told you where he had gone. You let out a shaky sigh and held back tears as you turned to the dogs who gathered at your feet. You turned around and pet them. You finally let a few tears escape your eyes as you sat down on the ground and let the dogs run you over.

“Where’s dad?” you whispered to Winston. He licked your face and you laughed lightly nodding. “I don’t know where either.”

You stood up and walked through the house, ready to get in bed and not go to sleep.

You entered the bedroom and almost didn’t even notice Will in bed, fast asleep. You actually walked past him at first and then stopped, turning to the bed and staring down at him. You let out a gasp and a small sob escaped your lips.

Safe.

He was safe.

You walked to the bed and sat on the ground beside him, not on the bed but instead the ground where you could stare at Will’s face. Peaceful. You wondered when the last time you saw him look peaceful was.

You stared at him and had a decision to make. You could call Jack or Hannibal, tell them that he was at home and without blood stains from the looks of it. You could sit here a moment more and think. Or you could simply get in bed and go to sleep beside the man you loved. You could go pretend nothing was wrong.

Tears were soundlessly streaming down your face. You wanted to play with his curls and laugh at him and make fun of each other as you attempt to make food carelessly. You didn’t want to make this decision.

Will shook and you wiped your eyes quickly. He looked up at the ceiling and his eyes locked on yours. The peace was broken into panic and the moment was gone.

You stared at each other and he stood up, running into the kitchen. You stayed on the ground for a moment, wishing you could have savored the moment a second longer. Then you got up and walked over to the kitchen where Will was leaning over the sink. Your bare feet patted over to the sink.

In it was a bloody ear that Will had just thrown up. You let out a shaky breath and Will looked over at you, fear in his eyes.

Will had never once seen you afraid of him. He had seen you afraid for him but never afraid of him. For a second he saw the fear in your eyes and he wasn’t sure if it was for him or of him.

“Where did you go?” you whispered. He shook his head and you met his eyes again. Terror in his eyes. You had asked the wrong question. “I was scared.”

“I am too.”

You hugged him tightly and he held you closer than he ever had before.

“I don’t know if this is going to be okay,” you whispered. He whimpered very quietly.

“I love you,” he promised. “I’ve always and always will love you.” You nodded and shut your eyes tightly.

“I’ll always love you too,” you whispered. “Always.”

You pulled away.

“Let’s call Hannibal.”

When Jack arrived at your home you didn’t recognize it. Jack was such a separate entity from your home. The comforting place, the dogs, Will, a home. That wasn’t what Jack was to you.

You stared at the house. Crime scene tape over the porch you and Will would drink beer and swap stories on. Strangers in the bedroom you slept in. You looked over at Jack who was holding Will hostage with words.

“They’re going to take him away,” you whispered numbly. Hannibal nodded.

“Yes.”

You walked over as Will got into the back of a cop car. You smiled very weakly at him, stopping the door from being shut. One of the dogs sat at your foot and looked at him.

“I’m not going to tell you it’s going to be okay,” you whispered.

“Just be here. With the dogs.” Someone shut the door harshly and the car was gone way before you were prepared for it to be gone. Hannibal stood behind you and you turned, throwing your arms around him so that Jack wouldn’t see you sob. Hannibal held you tightly, watching Will leave his home.

After a moment you pulled away from him and turned to Jack.

“You swore to me he wouldn’t get too close!” you yelled, so loud that people could likely hear you in the house. You pointed a finger at him and Hannibal grabbed your arms before you could fight Jack. “You swore!”

“I told him-”

“Stop talking. You could see he was breaking!” you screamed.

“Yes, I could,” Jack said simply. “And I kept pushing him because he was saving lives.” You broke free of Hannibal’s grasp and poked him in the chest, staring at him directly in the eyes. Your eyes were crazed and sad and heartbroken and above all, dangerous.

“I told you he was breaking. Now Abigail Hobbs is dead,” you sneered. Your heart wasn’t able to comprehend that just yet.

“You think he did it?” Jack asked.

“I know he didn’t,” you promised. “But for the sake of proving you wrong, as I have constantly, Abigail Hobbs is dead because someone messed up. And that someone is not Will or Freddie Lounds or Hannibal or Alana. That someone, Jack, is you.”

Hannibal pulled you away. You turned to him.

“You,” you whispered, weak now. “I sent Will to you for help and he seemed to simply get worse.”

“I thought I was helping him. I don’t know yet where I went wrong,” he whispered. “This is going to be a long process if he is arrested. You have to realize, perhaps not now but eventually that Will killed people even if he didn’t mean to.” You shook your head.

“I know he didn’t.”

“Either way,” he started and held you by your upper arms, “you’re going to need support through this. You said yourself Will was all you had before.” You stared at him, holding it together the best you could. He was right. You hated it. But he was right.

You didn’t say anything. Instead you just hugged him again.

The next day you walked into the headquarters of the BAU. Hannibal walked with you. You had managed to keep yourself together as you walked in. Hannibal stood closely beside you as you walked into his office.

“I’m going to talk to Will,” you stated.

“After the last time we spoke you think I’m going to allow you-”

“I am going to talk to Will,” you said again. Jack looked to Hannibal who somehow was still a valid perspective in his mind.

“Will it help or harm?” Jack asked Hannibal as though you weren’t there. Hannibal shrugged.

“I will be seeing him. Alana, you, presumably Chilton,” Hannibal said. “It seems unreasonably cruel to not allow her to see him especially before you’ve arrested him simply because you dislike her,” he said. Jack stared at you and you stared back, adjusting your posture to not seem nervous when you in fact were. You hated that the viewing of your boyfriend was going to be held in the hands of a man who you hated vocally.

“Five minutes,” Jack said. “No more.” You nodded stiffly and Jack led you to the room where Will was being held. You stared through the two way mirror as he stared at the wall. The wrongness of it made you shiver. Jack opened the door and Will turned around. He let out a gasp of almost relief at the sight of you. You walked over to him and hugged him tightly.

Someone hit the two way mirror. You moved back.

You sat down carefully at the chair across from him.

“This seems much too formal for us,” he said quietly.

“I don’t think we ever ate dinner at a table this formal,” you said quietly and you both shared a sad smile at what might have been and what had been. “I will be showing the dogs a picture of you every day for...however long,” you whispered.

“However long could be a long time from now.” You pursed your lips at the realization.

“I’ll do it until then,” you promised. Will stared at you.

“Do you...think I did it?” he asked. You shook your head quickly. There was no part of Will Graham that made you feel unsafe.

“No. You couldn’t have. I know that.”

“Ted Bundy’s girlfriend didn’t think he was a murderer until he was,” he told you.

“Actually she suspected. I have never suspected,” you promised.

“Has Jack tried to convince you otherwise?” he asked. You laughed dryly.

“Jack could show me a dead body in our crawl space and I would think he was making it up. That man has never been someone I trusted,” you promised. “Plus, I might get to join you if I decide to go through my plan of killing Jack.” Will raised an eyebrow.

“What about the dogs?”

“You’re right,” you whispered. “I’m going to try and see you as soon as I can.” He nodded.

“I don’t want you to be particular about it. I want you to live your life,” he whispered. You shook your head.

“You’re my life.”

The door opened and you looked over, fighting tears again.

“Be safe,” he whispered. You stood up and walked to the door, holding yourself together by only a string. “And Y/N?” You turned around and Will looked at you, up and down, taking you in.

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to turn off my work alarm,” he whispered. You nodded stiffly and Hannibal helped you out of the room. You were okay until you got in the car where you immediately broke down crying.

You didn’t go home, it was still a crime scene. You went to Hannibal’s home, sitting on his couch and staring out the window. He walked up to you and sat down beside you.

“Jack has just called me,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Your voice held no emotion. It was odd for Hannibal to hear. He was so used to emotion to lace your voice. Sometimes excitement, fear, happiness, worry, boredom. You were such an outward emotional person. Even when he walked into the office you would tell him the day's appointments with a smile and chirp.

“They have found victims' hair and teeth in the fish hooks,” he said. You shook your head. “And Jack has just arrested him.”

Your mouth opened and for a moment no words came out. Hannibal waited patiently.

“I passed those fish hooks every single day,” you whispered. “Going to work. Coming home. Going on a date, stumbling inside drunk and happy.” You turned to face Hannibal. “And I watched him work. I would sit on one of the chairs and pretend to read when Will and I both knew I was watching his fingers move.” Hannibal watched your eyes rewatch that memory. “There was no hair or teeth in those fish hooks when Will worked on it.”

“The evidence speaks otherwise,” he told you quietly.

“And yet I will refuse to believe it,” you said. Your smile was almost eerie. Hannibal was so curious about this part of you. Almost a numb anger.

“Go home,” he whispered.

“It’ll only make it worse,” you muttered.

You hugged him and he hugged you and for a moment Hannibal was the only anchor you had to the world. You felt like without him you could fly away immediately and die somewhere. Hannibal held you like he knew that was what you were thinking.

You pulled away and for a moment, as you felt numb, you stared at Hannibal’s face differently.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He put his hand on your face and you let him. Before he could do anything further you stood up. Home. Go home.

The house was empty. Despite the dogs it was empty.

You sat on the bed and stared at the pillow you never touched. Do you wash it? Will used to sweat on it so you had to wash it often but now did you have to? Should you?

The blanket that you had bought for Christmas for his nightmares seemed so useless now.

You turned around and grabbed the pillow and held it tightly, gasping.

The front door clicked open. You turned your head and your emotions went back to static as you stood up, putting the pillow on the bed. You walked into the main room and then there was Will, in orange, but there. You walked over to him quickly and sobbed into his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, sobbing loudly.

“I’m going to Minnesota with Hannibal,” he whispered. “But I had to come to you first.” You pulled away and he wiped your eyes for you. He pet the dogs one by one as you continued to cry. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Soon,” you told him. “I’ll get you back soon,” you promised.

“How are you going to do that?” he asked.

“I have no idea. Somehow.” He got up from petting the dogs and turned to you, tear stained face.

“Someone is framing me. I don’t know who. I think maybe Hannibal,” he whispered. “But I want you to know that outside of that prison. The copycat killer.”

“You think Hobbs copycat is Hannibal?”

“I don’t know yet. Minnesota will tell me,” he promised. You walked over to him, hugging him again.

“I’ll never stop trying to get you out,” you whispered. He nodded, laughing dryly a bit.

“I know.” He kissed your forehead shakily and you grabbed his hand.

“Stop shaking,” you whispered. “I always wanted to tell you that. You shake a lot when you’re not sure what’s going to happen and I always wanted to tell you to stop shaking.” For a moment, very brief, he was still.

“I’ll try.”

You held your phone tightly to your ear as you sat on the porch, alone once again. Alana picked up after two rings.

“Hi.” Her voice seemed wrong, hesitant. You took a shaky breath in and released a laugh.

“You think he did it.” She let out a sigh herself.

“I don’t know what I think. The evidence is all there Y/N.” You shook your head.

“And you know Will,” you whispered. “And you have to know that there is no way in hell that he did this.” You were pleading now. She was silent and that was answer enough.

“I’m sorry.”

You hung up the phone and stared at the barren land of the house that you alone were going to brave. You and the only ally you had left. Unfortunately that was Hannibal Lecter.

The next time you saw Will Graham he was in an induced sleep in the hospital. Hannibal sat at the side of his bed and you stood at the edge. Jack had yet to come and kick you out so you just sat with Hannibal and Will. Jack had also shot Will in the shoulder which he would surely get an earful about later.

“Hannibal?” you whispered. He nodded.

“Yes?”

“The last time I talked to Abigail she told me you loved me and Will,” you said very quietly. Your voice went out for a moment while you spoke. He smiled a tad.

“Abigail was always eccentric.”

“No, she was a teenager. Although I suppose she was wrong.” Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

“She wasn’t. I truly care a lot about you and Will. I wouldn't’ go as far as saying that I was in love with you two,” he told you. You looked down at Will and thought about his words.

“What happened in Minnesota?”

“Will had a breakdown,” he said simply. You wondered what Will had found out. You wondered if he would ever be able to tell you.

“I’m not going to let him stay in there,” you said quietly.

“No?”

“And I would like your help but if I don’t get it then that’s simply how we’re going to have to split ways,” you whispered. Hannibal smiled very subtly. That was ruthless of you. You, while caring about him, were willing to do anything to get Will back.

You and Hannibal stared at each other. He realized that you and him were not all that different. There was a piece of you that perhaps was capable of murder. You were not just his secretary who took calls and made appointments.

Your eyes stared at Hannibal’s and his stared back. Will laid between you. That was when Hannibal Lecter noticed that you were not an obstacle to get to Will Graham or an obstacle at all.

You were a piece of Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.

2x01

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham

239 notes · View notes

unlikelyempathpruneauthor · 4 years ago

Text

Protection

*some people might be disappointed because of the title, haha. its not what you think haha.

Summary: Reader works for the FBI (BAU lol) and Tom finds out about it and gets in a heated argument and it works out in the end.

A/N: Ok so this has to be me watching way too much criminal minds and wanting crossovers. I am also aware the working there is not what I wrote in here, but I wanted reader to be proud of what she does even if there are risks involved soo yeah. enough about me, hope you enjoy!

Your work was something that was a secret to most of your friends, not that you really had any. No one really knew you worked for the fbi, but that's because you didn't want anyone you love to get hurt. Finding love was hard because you couldn't say what you did for a living. I mean you could but it would be funny to tell someone, “yeah i catch serial killers most of the time how about you?” I mean you would pretty much scare them off.

Throughout the time though, you found that if you say you're a nurse they would believe you and would usually explain why you work all day and night, but when they somehow go to that hospital you said you worked at they suspect you as a liar, you know tricking men that you worked in a hospital to appear “cool ” as they would say. But if only they knew your real occupation. You did get a medical degree, but in a different area, and told your mom you graduated early, but in reality, you were taken into college for your brains, and you took classes in many areas of subjects for your career, and you graduated early, but left with some college debt, which you later paid. Later getting into the academy and being one of the youngest agents in the fbi.

Lucky later the universe was nice to you and brought you someone special. Tom. You met Tom when you were getting coffee on your one day off of the year. Tom noticed how lovely you were, I mean you were just reading a book, but to him you made reading look fun.

He walked up to you and you got to no one another and later on went on a couple dates. You really liked him and you didn't want your little lie to ruin everything, but he had told you he was an actor so it worked well for you, but you felt guilty lying to him. You knew lying to him was terrible, but you really liked him, and if you had to lie to keep him safe, it was worth it.

You were on a case where Tom happened to be shooting a movie. You were talking to some people in the industry business because the case was kinda smuggled in with it. You knew the chances of seeing him were low.

“So is there anyone that could seem, out of line, you know, getting too comfortable with the ladies or even the guys?” you asked the director.

“None that i know of..well actually there is one actress who complained about someone being too comfortable with her, let me get her.” he said as you nodded and called your boss.

“Looks like i got someone, not sure, but i'll let you know what happens.” you say as he agreed and you couldn't believe your eyes. The zendaya was standing right in front of you. You were so shocked. Sometimes this job has its perks.

“Zendaya, this is an fbi agent, agent this is the actress i told you about.” he said you shook hands.

“Hi nice to meet you, I'm agent y/n, i have a few questions if that's okay.” you said as she nodded. You were led to the lunch room where it was lonely so it was easy to talk.

“I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances” you said as she smiled.

“Yeah no worries, i'm just glad there is a way i can help.” she said as you opened the file.

“So this guy who was he?” you said as she tried remembering.

“Well he said he was my character's designer, you know making outfits and even making clothes and small things for the characters.” she said as you nodded.

“Okay, did he give you any gifts? Like jewelry, or even a prop that you weren't allowed to keep.” you asked as she slowly nodded.

“Now that you bring it up he has, he gave me this prop thats a hammer type of thing thats supposed to be from the middle ages.” she said as you nodded.

“Alright did you happen to catch his name.” you said as she nodded giving you a name. You thank her for helping you and luckily got a chance to talk.

“So what's it like being in the fbi? Is it anything like the movies?” she asked as you laughed.

“I mean not really, it's more paperwork than actual field work, but i guess this case is giving me more field work.” you said as you both chuckled.

“So what movie or show are you filming here? I mean if you can tell me.” you said as she nodded.

“It's the new spider man movie, have you heard of it?” she said as your eyes went wide. There was no way you were here. Tom could've seen you.

“Really? I uh, yeah I have, I might see it.” you said as you jumped over your words as she nodded and was called by what you assumed was her assistant.

“Well I have to go, good luck finding this creep,” she said as you nodded.

“Oh wait, here's my card, if anything happens, or if you remember anything.” you said as you handed it over and she nodded.

You then sighed and turned around to only see tTom. You were just staring for about a good minute and you turned around trying to leave the set. He followed you seeing why exactly you were here. You were trying to get away but he got to you.

“y/n! What are you doing here, love? Did you come visit me?” he asked as you just stumbled on your words.

“I uh, i h-” you said as the director cut you off.

“Agent y/n! Did you end up talking to zendaya?” he asked as you nodded.

“Agent?” Tom said as the director caught up to them as you looked at his emotions change.

“Yeah i did, i should have everything, but please if there is anything you remember or even see these past few days please call me or my team?” you said as he nodded as you gave him a card and Tom just looked at you in confusion.

“Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I should introduce you to our spider man before you go. Tom this is agent y/n, she's working with the FBI on a case here, agent this is tom, you probably know him.” he said as you shook hands with him, you knew he was confused and possibly angry.

“I probably have, I hope your filming goes smoothly. I really should get going.” you said as they both nodded. You left knowing there was gonna be a fight at home.

A week later the case was closed and the creep was taken. You were just glad to go home and sleep, but you knew that wasn't the case. You then got a call, you answered and it was zendaya.

“Agent y/n? Hi this is zendaya. I heard you got the guy.” she said as you sighed.

“Yeah we did and it’s a couple more creeps, they are gonna go away for a long time.” you said as she chuckled.

“Hey I was wondering, if you wanted to go to the premier of the movie? I figured we can say thank you that way, and hopefully become friends?” you said as you knew what this could lead to, but heck one friend couldn't hurt.

“I mean that is if you're allowed to.” she said as you chuckled.

“Yeah i should be, but let me get you back on that to make sure I can go.” you said as you said goodbye.

On the plane ride home, you knew Tom would be waiting for you back home in the living room. As you got there you noticed the light was on. You walked in as expected seeing Tom in the living room. You put your bag down and kicked off your shoes. You walked over to Tom as he was sitting down. You sat across from him as he faced the ground.

“We need to talk.” he said as you gulped.

“Yeah i know.” you said as he looked at you.

“When were you gonna tell me?” he said as you looked down.

“I couldn't.” was all you said as he scoffed.

“You couldn't or you wouldn't tell me? How long were we gonna get away with working as a nurse?” he said as you understood his anger.

“y/n i have been nothing but honest, but you have been lying to me for 2 years! After I told you about my job, you never considered telling me yours!” he said as you looked at the ground.

“I really can't believe you would think you would get away with this! And it's clear to me that you didn't care! You didn't bother telling me.” he said as you looked at him.

“y/n please say something you not saying anything is clear to me that you were never in this relationship. What else have you been lying to me about?” he asked as you cleared your throat.

“I couldn't tell you because my job is dangerous,” you said as he scoffed.

“Please y/n, as if i don't know that. What if you died? Huh what were you gonna tell me then!” he said as you waited for him to calm down.

“Tom I didn't tell you because I didn't want you later being in danger because of me. I was trying to protect you.” you said as cliche as it sounded.

“You don't need to protect me love, you need to be honest with me.” he said as you looked up at him.

“Okay you want me to be honest, then here it is. I'm sorry I don't want to be the reason you die! I'm sorry I don't want to be the reason that your parents will hate me someday because I put your lives in danger. I'm scared that one day I will find you dead on the floor. I'm scared to find your family dead on the floor. If you haven't noticed i dont have any contact with family or friends because I don't want to risk their safety. That is why I lied to you and i'm sorry for yelling.” you said as you looked at him and saw him regret and you tried calming yourself down.

“And I was gonna tell you on my own time and no i didn't think i was gonna get away with this because i knew this exact conversation was gonna happen. And me dying was the last thought I had because I knew you and your family would be out of danger.” you said.

There was a long pause of just silence. Tom was upset, sure, but he never got to understand why you couldn't tell him. He knew your reasons but he wanted to know why.

“I-i am sorry, i'm really sorry i overreacted.” he said as he looked down to the ground and you just half smiled and sat next to him.

“Bubs, it's okay, you didn't know and you found out in a bad way so this is on me.” you said as he shook his head.

“No, it's me too, I'm the one who didn't understand, I should be forgiving you instead of you forgiving me.” he said as you shook your head.

“It's alright really, now you know, and you're gonna know everything I do from now on.” you said as he nodded.

Every couple has their ups and downs, and the downs get you to the ups, and this was one of them.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fic #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #imagines

66 notes · View notes

darkshrimpemotions · 4 years ago

Note

With Understanding is one of the very few fics that truly haunt me. I'm not sure what emotion it is that stirs up with each of your posts about it, but just wanted to say that every time I see one I'm like 'yeah, that fic. *stares into the distance for a time*' It's one hell of a story.

It really, really is. Like I'm still trying to parse how the hell I feel about it, so apologies in advance for the can of worms.

(spoilers for With Understanding under the cut)

Like a part of me, both as I was reading and after, just wanted to go where the story took me and see things from Cas's perspective without questioning it too much. That part of me probably needs therapy, or to finally understand that no actually, love cannot conquer all. There are some things it really really can't overcome.

I've written a little bit before about how I think the fic almost emphasizes that (that love just can't conquer some shit) just by showing the sheer amount of work it would take for two people with Dean and Cas's history to get to a point where anything between them could even approach healthy. It's fucking unlikely to happen outside of fiction, and even in fiction, done arguably very very well, I feel so torn about it!

Because another part of me (probably the part that at least KNOWS I need therapy, even if she's unwilling to go get it for...personal reasons) recoils from that ending so hard and wonders, really wonders, how much of Cas's perspective we're supposed to accept unquestioningly. We spend so much of the fic in his head as he's reasoning and feeling his way through all of this, but ultimately that's not the perspective we end with. So how much are we supposed to live in Cas's perspective as a source of truth? How much should we step back and consider the perspective of the BAU, even those who don't know the whole story? I don't have a clear answer.

Like...it'd be one thing if the only people who had an opinion about Dean and Cas's relationship were in the dark about key details, but the fact that even Morgan and Balthazar, to the very end, know everything and hate it and keep telling Cas over and over, "you need to get OUT"? That detail refuses to let me just fall into accepting that everything is fine and will always be fine, even when I'm trying to be happy for Cas that he's in a place where he maybe can't control every aspect of his life (who ever can), but can at least make his own choices when faced with a situation and feel reasonably okay with accepting that whatever consequences arise, he still chose.

And then there's the fact that this insane AU crossover fanfiction where Cas's central arc revolves so heavily around free will of all things came out in 2015? That just makes me. Feral. Absolutely fucking feral. Because somehow this person picked up on something in Cas's character and arc that even the writers of the show and frankly, most of the fandom hadn't fully grasped at that point in time. His canon struggle has always been about free will. Choosing it, understanding it, fighting for it. Not even about learning to do the "right thing" per se, but about making the choice at all, and ultimately making it for himself, not anyone else, regardless of what other people think of that choice. But in retrospect, that doesn't really become clear until we reach season 15.

So the understanding (ha) of Cas's character that this fic shows? I wanna have coffee with this person. I want to sit down, inhale too much caffeine, and then ask former AO3 user apokteino how the flying fuck they wrote an AU Cas who is both so different from canon Cas and so essentially, fundamentally correct at the same time.

#supernatural #fanfiction #destiel #with understanding #queerbluebird #ask box #i'm just rambling

12 notes · View notes

hotchslut · 4 years ago

Text

believe it’s the fright

spencer reid/reader (strangers to enemies to lovers)

summary: though horribly unqualified, somehow (y/n) lands a gig interning for the bau department in quanitco. already nervous beyond belief about starting her new job, the first person she meets seems determined to make her time with the team a living hell.

a/n: because the internship period with the fbi is ten weeks, this is going to be a ten part fic with each part being a new week. i always wanted spencer to have a girl in his life who wouldn't kind of baby him like the rest of his friends do and also love the idea of opposites attract when it comes to such a specific character like him. i also think spencer can unknowingly be a bit of a dick sometimes and we never really talk about that, so here's to exploring that side of his person a bit more. this first chapter acts more as a prologue, introducing you to the characters and circumstances. next chapter will have more of the two interacting and working together. please enjoy!! <33

The goal was simple. Finish the 10 week internship at the Quantico division of the FBI without screwing everything up. Hopefully, she’d leave a positive enough impression to secure a job for herself immediately after. Realistically, she knew she would end up barely scraping by, but at least she’d have enough practical experience to write a believable award winning screenplay about the ins and outs of a special agents life.

She knew she wasn’t in the right field. She was basically just a film student. But after graduating from a school she hadn’t even left her hometown to attend, she was desperate for some real life experiences, and how many people could say they had worked with the FBI, even for just a little bit? Her electives in journalism and visual arts had been enough to meet the internship requirements, her GPA was undeniably impressive thanks to a fairly easy course load, and no one could argue that she was one hell of an interviewee. So there she was, all alone in a new state, walking into the biggest and most intimidating building she had ever stepped foot in, to start working an internship she wasn’t even sure how she booked. She had been told it was her passion which had gotten her there, but she couldn’t help but thinking about how painfully stupid the other applicants must have been to allow her to be in this position.

“What floor?”

As she stepped into the elevator she looked up to see a man, she assumed was only a little older than herself, with his fingers hovering over the buttons. She was shocked, or maybe annoyed - which definitely translated to jealous - that someone so young could have such a stable career already. He must just be another intern.

“Six, thank you,” she said, a little louder than she intended. The man pressed the button but looked at her with hesitance.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still waving his fingers near the buttons, as if he was waiting for her to correct herself so he could make sure she got to the correct floor.

Fuck. This is exactly what she had been worried about. She had checked her introductory email 3 times just on the walk from the front door to the elevator so she could be absolutely certain she was heading to the right floor. “Uh, yeah, I can check the email again,” her voice wandered off as she pulled out her phone to quadruple check. The elevator was going up quite quickly, like a ticking clock, as she scrolled to find the information she was looking for before they arrived. “Yeah, no, it’s the 6th floor.” she turned her phone for him to look at, but he didn’t, he just looked at her. There was nothing she hated more than a starer.

“My bad,” he said excruciatingly slowly. “I’m Spencer. I guess I’ve just never seen you around.”

Guess that meant he wasn’t an intern. Something about him was putting her off. She had hardly spoken a word to him and she could already feel his raging superiority complex. “Well, it’s my first day,” she explained as the elevator doors opened. He started to walk out, giving her a faint smile.

Spencer made his way over to his desk, briefly looking back at (y/n) to make sure she was out of ear shot. She was standing uncomfortably, looking at her phone, which he assumed she was using as a shield to mask that she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing.

“What’s with the new girl?” He asked JJ and Derek who were already seated.

JJ almost instantly perked up. “I didn’t know we were getting a new girl,” she confessed, looking over at (y/n), who was still in the same position.

“She’s a little underdressed for her first day, don’t you think?” Spencer judged. The three of them started examining her, with little to no subtlety.

(y/n) had been anxious about this. She spent three hours the night prior, trying to decide on an outfit that she thought would be appropriate. Everything she tried on either felt under or over dressed, but in the end she felt that comfort was the most important thing. Besides, in ten weeks time, no one was going to remember what she wore on her first day.

So there she stood, at the front of the bullpen terrified, in a black crewneck with a collared shirt underneath, french tucked into some black mom jeans and vans on her feet. She had absolutely no idea where to go. All she knew was she had to find Aaron Hotchner’s office, as she was supposed to be shadowing him for her time there. She quickly read and reread the email, trying to find any hint of where Hotchner’s office could be. She didn’t look up until she sensed someone walking straight towards her.

“You look a little lost,” Derek said, stopping in front of her.

A forced laugh was all she gave him, as she looked through her phone. She didn’t want to admit that she needed help already, but when he didn’t move, she brought her eyes back up. The first thing she saw wasn’t even Derek, it was Spencer, sitting at his desk, looking right at her. Why was this guy so weird? Did he send this other guy to check in on her? “I’m, uh, looking for Aaron Hotchner’s office,” she finally explained, turning to Derek for some unwanted but highly needed help.

“Just up there,” he explained, pointing to one of the only offices even in the room. His voice was soft, and she didn’t feel judged by him for not knowing anything. “I’m Derek.” He held out his hand, which (y/n) was happy to take.

“I’m (y/n),” she shook his hand with a genuine smile. “I like that you shake.” She wasn’t sure why she said that, and tried to fix it with a simple, “Thank you,” before nodding towards him and heading up to Hotchner’s office.

The door was closed, which left her feeling more uneasy than it should have. Didn’t he know she was coming? It would have been a lot less threatening if he had just left it open for her to peak her head in. Nothing about this experience had been exactly welcoming thus far.

After some hesitation, she finally knocked on the door. Definitely louder than she meant to. As she waited for someone to open the door, she could feel eyes on the back of her head. She wasn’t sure if it was because Spencer was actually still looking at her, or if it was just the feeling he left her with. He was like a spider in the distance that once you see, you can suddenly feel crawling all over you. Luckily these thoughts and feelings were interrupted when Hotch opened the door and ushered her in.

“Hello, (y/l/n), come in. Take a seat. I’m Aaron Hotchner, it’s great to have you with us,” he remarked, waiting for her to take a seat before he followed suit behind his desk. (y/n) thanked him quietly before he continued, “(y/l/n), I have-”

“I am so sorry to interrupt, but I kind of hate that, so can you just call me (y/n),” she pleaded, laughing slightly so he knew she wasn’t trying to be mean.

Hotch was taken aback, but politely obliged before explaining the role she would be taking on with the BAU. He was about halfway through speaking with her, when she realized she had not been processing any of the information she was being given. She couldn’t help it - she was a visual learner and Hotch was doing nothing to accommodate that. Not that she thought it was his fault, either.

“I know you passed all your training very well, but obviously you’re not cleared to be in the field, so when I do have to leave with the team, we’ll have you stay behind to work on the paperwork and be a resource to us here,” Hotch paused, noticing how overwhelmed she looked by all the information.

They maintained silent eye contact while (y/n) tried to process everything before piping up. “Can I have a gun?”

Hotch continued to look her in the eyes. Always the profiler, he was irritated that he couldn’t read if she was joking. Taking a risk in assuming she was, he wittily replied, “When you solve your first case.”

“Deal.” She smiled in return, as she noticed Hotch’s lips curl just slightly as well. She could tell he was going to be a tough one to completely break, but she was willing to accept that challenge.

“Now, unfortunately we don’t have any active cases for you to look through,” he began again before being interrupted by his phone beeping. He immediately looked down and sighed, “I stand corrected.”

(y/n) laughed, a genuine laugh before remarking, “I was literally just going to say, how funny would it be if that was a case coming in.”

Hotch didn’t react, he just grabbed his things and stood up, prompting (y/n) to do the same.

Everyone had gathered around the round table, with Garcia standing in front, ready to present the case, when Hotch and (y/n) walked in. “Everyone, this is (y/n) (y/l/n), she’ll be joining the team as an intern, she’s been assigned to shadow me,” Hotch introduced the girl who observed the room full of people. She quickly grew uncomfortable when she saw Spencer, giving her a quizzical look. Hotch continued to introduce everyone by name, but (y/n) was hardly listening. “And this is Doctor Spencer Reid,” he finished off.

“We’ve met,” she spat coldly, earning a head nod from the apparent doctor. She suddenly noticed there were only two remaining seats, one of which was next to Spencer. Before she could get moving, Hotch began walking over the other seat, across the table. She stepped forward, trying not to broadcast the reluctance she was feeling. As she moved to get comfortable she saw Spencer trying to give her a welcoming smile through her periferal, but her stubborn nature forced her not to acknowledge it.

“Alright, if everyone’s settled and comfortable, you won’t be for very long,” Garcia spoke with slight disgust of what she knew she was about to say, “Thomas Victor, 34, found dead in his girlfriend's kitchen.”

The team all leaned forward slightly as Garcia put up photos of the victim and crime scene. (y/n) was the only one smiling; she had never seen crime scene photos in real time before. Being a fan of horror and true crime, she found this to be almost fun. It wasn’t until she noticed Spencer noticing that she herself noticed, and had to remind herself this was, in fact, real, and probably not something to get too giddy over.

“Zoom in on the neck,” Derek instructed. Garcia followed, never turning to face the screen. “Look at that stab wound.” He was right - That stab wound to the neck was nasty… And oddly circular.

“What could’ve caused something like that?” JJ pondered out loud.

Garcia’s eyes lit up before remarking, “Aha. That we know. There was a bloody corkscrew on the ground. There was also a very nice bottle of red on the counter, so my guess is the unsub caught poor old Thomas preparing some wine for him and his lady and-” She shrugged, allowing the team to infer the rest.

“Where’s the girlfriend in all of this?” JJ asked.

“Nowhere to be found,” Garcia explained, scrunching up her face, as if she felt bad for not being able to help out any further.

Hotch sat up straight, asking, “Garcia, what more do we know about the victim?”

“Relatively low risk. Worked a 9-5 office job downtown. Rumour on the street is, he had just started seeing this girl, um, Melaney,” Garcia looked down at her notes, “Paulinchuck. Friends say they had been talking on an online dating site for just a couple days before meeting for the first time. Last night was supposed to be their 5th date.”

“You know, with online dating on the rise, so are the numbers of first dates resulting in violent crime,” Spencer chimed in, adjusting himself in his seat, “Just in the last five years alone, reports of abuse and even murder spiked drastically within the online dating community.” Just as (y/n) thought he was about to shut up, he kept going. “In fact, police in the UK are dealing with approximately 20 online dating related crimes a week. You hate to think about how bad it could be here in America, a statically more violent country.” He nodded to himself and sucked both of his lips in, waiting for a response from anyone.

“Very cool, Spencer,” (y/n) whispered sarcastically, hopefully not loud enough for everyone to hear.

JJ tried backing him up by adding, “So, there’s a fairly high chance this missing girlfriend is actually our unsub.”

The team started bouncing ideas off each other while Garcia kept spewing off potentially helpful information, but for the life of her (y/n) could not focus. She didn’t want to fuck up her first case by not being able to recall important information from this initial meeting, but if Spencer clicked his pen one more time…

“We’ve got a lot of digging to do on both the victim and his girlfriend. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch eventually announced. Everyone stood quite hastily, going to grab their things and head to the plane. Garcia stayed put, gathering all of her belongings, while Spencer seemed to be moving at the pace of an injured turtle. (y/n) just sat, relatively unsure of what she was to be doing. She knew she was to stay at the headquarters and process the paperwork from the case and be readily available to help the team in any way she could from her position, but there wasn’t exactly anything to work on until they actually arrived on the scene. Plus she didn’t even have a desk.

Not wanting to look like she was stalling from getting any work done, she decided to strike up a conversation with Spencer, who was still placing papers into his file. Without looking at him, she said, “You’re a little young to be a profiler, aren’t you?” When he didn’t immediately reply, she assumed it was because he heard it all the time and she was either boring him or accidentally offending him. Unfortunately, the curse of her anxiety forced her to continue, “I mean, I’m 22 and I’m only an intern, I can’t imagine having a whole ass career with the FBI already. And a doctorate, huh? How do you even find time to accomplish so much in so few years?”

Spencer had finished getting himself together while she rambled, and threw his satchel over his shoulder. “Well, I’m not 22, I’m 33,” was all he gave her in response.

(y/n) was taken aback. “Could’ve fooled me. You look 20.” She wasn’t sure if he would take that as an insult or a compliment, but she wasn’t quite sure which she meant it to be anyways.

“But I got my first doctorate at 17, so either way,” he trailed off.

His first doctorate. (y/n)’s blood boiled. The way he was basically standing over her and rubbing in her face just how smart he was. Not that he had actually done anything wrong, she knew he was just answering the questions she had initially asked, but she hated people who were smarter than her. More, she hated people who were smarter than her and weren’t shy about letting her know. Granted, she knew she wasn’t all that intelligent, so most people were significantly smarter anyways, but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

“I have to go. Good luck with your first case, intern. You’ll need it,” He spoke, emphasis on “you’ll” as if anyone else wouldn’t need the luck.

(y/n) watched him leave, like she was throwing daggers to the back of his head with her eyes. “He’ll grow on you,” Garcia smiled, about to leave the room herself, octopus mug in hand. (y/n) wanted so badly to retort with how certain she was that he wouldn’t, but refrained. She didn’t want to come across as a judgemental bitch on her first day. “I’m heading to my lair, so just holler if you need me!”

About an hour of scrolling her facebook and instagram feeds had passed, before (y/n) decided she should probably take some initiative and get some work done. The issue was, she still didn’t know exactly what it was she was supposed to do until she got some information from a profiler. It took some internal convincing, but eventually she walked out towards the hall, looking for Garcia’s office. She figured she might have some work she needed help with, and (y/n) was happy to help until she had a task of her own. She didn’t know where her office was, but it only took a few minutes of wandering around like a fool before she found it. The door was locked and needed a keycard to open which (y/n) clearly didn’t have yet, so she knocked. She didn’t know why she was so scared, she just didn’t want to get anything wrong. It was no secret she was going to be the dumbest one on the team, and she didn’t need another thing for Spencer to have against her.

Garcia must have been waiting, or, alternatively be a really fast runner, because the door opened almost immediately. “Yes, hello, how may I assist you padawan?”

“Um, I don’t really have anything to work on yet, so I thought maybe you could make use of me? I also, uh, don’t have, like, a desk, or space, to set up,” (y/n) laughed as if she was telling a joke, which she wasn’t, but the nerves were building up.

Garcia lit up, radiating enthusiasm. “Yes, yes of course,” she practically squealed, ushering (y/n) into her office and pulling up a chair. “We will get you to work right away, and I’ll set you up with a desk immediately after. But first, work.”

Suddenly any trace of anxiousness disappeared, and for the first time all day, (y/n) was completely absorbed with excitement. Maybe it was the motherly tone of Garcia’s voice, or maybe it was the assortment of figurines and toys surrounding her computers, but something about this dark room was comforting.

Garcia spent the next few hours with (y/n), showing her the basics of her program; the stuff anyone could pick up on. As she was explaining how to follow a phone’s GPS on the map, a phone rang, startling (y/n).

“Hellooooo, my big brained beauty, I am at your service,” Garcia quipped into her cell, as she put it on speaker for the two of them to hear.

“Two things. I need you to check Melaney’s employment history, go as far back as you can. I’m talking about high school jobs. I also have a hit on her new phone number since the one on file was out of service, so I need you to see if you can track it,” Spencer didn’t ask, he instructed, before reading off the number.

“Yes, yes, easy peasy lemon squeezy. (y/n), you got the phone?”

(y/n) didn’t speak, not wanting to converse with Spencer, she just nodded and got to work. She was still a little hesitant around the system, so she knew it would take a couple extra minutes.

Spencer didn’t speak for a moment either, but as (y/n) was coming to learn, that boy didn’t stay silent for long. “(y/n)’s there?” he questioned Garcia, as opposed to just speaking to (y/n) directly.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” (y/n) teased.

“Aren’t you an intern? Shouldn’t you be bringing Garcia her coffee, not trying to intervene with the case the adults are working?” Spencer snapped. Though nothing in his tone would suggest it, she knew it had to be a joke. There was no way he was that mean.

(y/n) dug back almost immediately, “I’m not that kind of intern, dumbass.” She didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out. It was what she called all her friends when they were joking around, the only difference being Spencer was not her friend.

It felt like minutes passed before Garcia yelled, “Hit ya back!” and hung up the phone.

Four days had gone by, and (y/n) was loving her new job. She had finally had the chance to help out every member of the team, at least over the phone. Garcia had kept her promise and helped her pick out a desk. The catch being, there were only two available, so it was either across from Spencer or squished in with another team. Since Spencer was away, she didn’t exactly mind her new spot, but she also knew that would change the moment they had to spend a whole day just feet apart. Garcia was still insisting that the two would grow close, because according to her, no one ever disliked Spencer. But also according to Garcia, he was charming and had one of the kindest souls she had ever come across. Sure, she technically knew him much, much better than (y/n), but somehow she found those claims hard to believe.

The case had closed, and (y/n) was working on the last bit of her paperwork when she heard the team wandering into the bullpen.

“What are you doing there?” a shrill voice asked from behind her, and it didn’t take a genius to know it was Spencer trying to accuse her of something. He made his way to his side of the desk and took a seat, staring her in the eyes, waiting for a response.

“This is my desk, Spencie. I’m like a real team member now.” She grinned, gesturing to her space, which she had set up with a few personal items and had organized neatly.

He didn’t smile back, he just quietly mumbled, “Not really.”

Spencer didn’t try to continue the conversation, but (y/n) wasn’t done. Besides, she was dying to talk to someone who wasn’t Garcia. As lovely as the woman was, (y/n) found she appreciated her more in small doses. “So, is four days, like, average? Like, for solving cases?” she asked, genuinely curious as to what to expect in the future.

“2.367,” Spencer spoke, not looking up from the piece of paper in his hand.

“Okay, yeah,” she replied, with an influxion in her voice that told Spencer she had no idea what he was saying.

“That’s how many days it takes us on average to solve a case, from the time we get debriefed on the details here to the time we’re getting ready to board the jet back home.”

(y/n) dropped everything and leaned forward. She made sure to catch his eye before speaking, “I just love how you’re so specific about everything. All your statistics? Absolutely fascinating to me. Anyone else would’ve just said it was about 2 and a half days, but you… You’re clearly so much better than anyone else, because you give exacts. Super cool.”

Spencer subconsciously started playing with the pen on his desk, indicating he was getting upset, but beyond that, he kept his cool. He couldn’t let her win. Not that easy. “You don’t find it fascinating.”

“No, I find it weird. And annoying.”

Just when Spencer was about to completely rip into her, Hotch came down the stairs and interrupted. “That was a draining one, I want everyone to head home, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he gave his farewell. Before heading to the elevator, he turned to (y/n). “Good work, (y/n), it’s great to have you on this team.”

She smiled and thanked him, making sure to throw in a joke in an attempt to crack him, before turning back to Spencer, who was already on his feet and raring to go. “Night, Spence,” she spoke while gathering her things up herself.

“Don’t call me that,” was all he said as he left the office. Something about the way he said it made (y/n) feel bad for the first time. All she was doing was wishing him well on his way out and he had to make her feel like shit over it. Over a nickname. She made a mental note that “Spence” was apparently crossing a line while she waited for the elevator that he was on to go down, so she didn’t have to leave the building with him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid/reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid series #spencer reid fic

30 notes · View notes

prettybillycore · 7 years ago

Text

Most Wanted- Chapter Four (Supernatural x Criminal Minds)

Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Gif not mine! Credit to the owner

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader

Characters: Hotch, Derek, Spencer, Elle, Dean, Sam, Bobby (Mentioned), Penelope (Mentioned)

Series Summary: You, (Y/n) Hotchner, met Dean Winchester when you were 18. Now, at age 22, he’s your boyfriend and you love him more than anything. You had always been psychically gifted and you knew that Dean was good for you, as much as you were for him. However, even though you were extremely close to your father and the rest of the BAU, you never told them about your boyfriend. You knew they definitely wouldn’t approve of you dating a guy on the FBI’s ‘Most Wanted’ list.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Crime Scenes, Mentions of Mary/Jess’s deaths

Word Count: 2002

Tag List: @seventeenstyles94 @dontbelasagnax @sharkshee @niall2017 @baby-baker @moviewatcher20 (If you want to be added just leave a comment!)

Hotch had his jaw clenched as he drove to the crime scene. They all had been trying to wrap their heads around what had happened with you and this Gabriel character when Penelope ran in and said that she managed to find some security footage of the Winchester Brothers at a gas station in Nebraska. The team all piled into the plane and put an APB out on the car, but by the time they arrive the Winchesters were nowhere to be found for a hundred miles.

That was until the call for this crime scene came out. The team had made it to the local police station when they received a disturbance call and a call for the car sitting in the street from a house 15 miles away. He didn’t have to even say a word before the team started running to the cars. He was driving, his knuckles white from holding onto the steering wheel so tightly. He had to catch the man, this murder, this Dean Winchester, the man that had, in his eyes, somehow managed to twist your golden heart into something much darker. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder as he cruised through a red light, “Hotch… I know you want this guy, but we have to go about this rationally, as if it wasn’t personal. If we don’t go about this the right way, he and his brother could slip through our fingers again.”

“I know, you don’t have to lecture me Morgan, but… this is my daughter we’re talking about. MY daughter, my sweet little girl, that this monster… has somehow made her think he’s the good guy!”

“I know, but we can’t-”

“It’s like a weird case of... well I’m not sure. It’s not Stockholm Syndrome, but it kind of feels like it,” Spencer chimed in from the back seat. It was him, Gideon, and Elle crunched into the bench seat, him in the middle.

“What?” Hotch asked, showing that he needed clarification.

“Even though he’s not physically holding her hostage, it’s like he is mentally. She’s worried for him and seems to want to protect him at any cost even though somewhere in the back of her mind she knows he’s bad for her,” He elaborated on his short thought.

“Who cares what the psychologist is going to call it, we just need to find him so that we can find her!” Hotch shouted as he put his foot all the way down on the gas. No one said anything else until they reached the crime scene.

Hotch slammed on the breaks and got out of the car faster than anyone had ever seen. Hotch saw it, the 1967 black four-door Chevy Impala, he suddenly hated that car more than he thought physically possible. Sam and Dean were inside, They had just taken out a demon that had been possessing the mother of the family. The family was thankful for them, the mother survived, the two children were unharmed, and the father only had a few scratches. The two men peeked out the front window at all the police vehicles that had arrived, “son of a bitch,” Dean muttered under his breath.

“This is good right? The police are here to check on us?” The father said worriedly.

Sam and Dean both shot him a bitch face, “Good for you, bad for us. We’re not really liked by the police,” Dean spat.

“Dean we have a bigger problem than just local police. Those are black SUVs with tinted windows,” Sam said moving away from the window.

“So? What’s that mean?” Dean asked confused.

“It means that’s the FBI Dean!”

“Aw crap! Really?!” He panicked, he looked out the window and saw the one man he really didn't want to see. Your father, he had a stone cold look on his face. Dean had seen pictures of him with you before, but he always looked happy in them. He looked about ready to kill someone now… and Dean knew who that exact someone was. He gulped, “And even worse yet, the scary looking guy in the middle of everything, that’s SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“Your girlfriend’s father? Oh, great Dean, that’s just great!” as the brothers continued to panic, the family looked at each other.

“Hey, we don’t know what you’ve done in the past, but we know what you’ve done for us. We’ll keep them as busy as we can while you escape,” The mother said, “There’s a back door in the kitchen, you should go before they block it off.”

“Thank you,” Dean said before running off behind them.

“Thank you, really,” Sam said before taking off after his brother.

Back outside, the team and the local police were prepared to enter the house when the family came out. They were all fine, almost completely unharmed. The mother and father had a few bruises and scratches, but overall it seems that the Winchesters pretty much left them alone. He ran over to them, “The men that did this to you, where are they?” He asked.

“What men? What are you talking about?” The mother asked.

Hotch ran his hand through his hair out of frustration. He pulled folded up copies of their wanted posters out of his pocket, “These two men, Sam and Dean Winchester. They are wanted for murder and they're are the only link I have to find my missing daughter, please, tell me everything you know.”

The husband and wife looked to each other before they heard the sound of a car starting. Their heads all snapped in the direction of the sound. The Impala had been the car that had roared into life, Dean Winchester in the driver’s seat and Sam in the passenger. Hotch was frozen even there was shouting all around him, he just looked at the car that was getting away and then back down at the marks the tires left on the road. Gideon looked shocked towards the Impala and didn’t say a word. The Winchesters had gotten away, again.

~ ~ ~

Dean let out a sigh of relief as he turned out of the sight line of the last cop car that had been chasing them, “That was way too close,” he breathed.

“You’re not kidding. How did they even manage to find us?” Sam asked, a bit out of breath even though it had been a bit since they ran.

“I have no idea, but (y/n) was right.”

“Right? Right about what?” Sam asked.

“Well, when we first started talking about family she told me that I should never mess with her dad’s unit of the FBI. Apparently, they always find the people they’re looking for.”

“And with (y/n) at Bobby’s, they don’t know where she is. They must want to catch us so we can tell them where she is.”

“Yeah Sam, they just want to catch us so that we can give them directions to Bobby’s,” Dean said sarcastically.

“I know that’s not the only reason, but that must be why her father looked so angry. He’s worried about her.”

“Great deduction Sam. What do you want me to do about it?” Dean asked as the hurtled down the road.

Sam shrugged, “You think there’s any reasoning with him? I mean it’s not like he’s a demon or a vengeful spirit. He’s a human man.”

“Yeah a human man who doesn’t know where his daughter is and thinks that we’re his only link to finding her. I don’t think there’s reasoning with him.”

Sam sighed, “You’re probably right. I just know that we can’t outrun them forever.”

~ ~ ~

Hotch and the rest of the team felt defeated. There was a man who vanished without a trace in front of their eyes, two possible murderers on the loose, and Hotch’s missing daughter. It was turning out to be an extremely stressful work week. They were all sitting in the police office trying to figure out their next move. They had people looking for the car and Garcia watching all of the gas stations close to where they would hit empty. It seemed like there was nothing to do, but wait, but none of the team was satisfied with that answer. “Why don’t we go over the profile again, see if there’s a clue in it somewhere that will tell us where she is or where they’re headed,” Derek suggested.

“It couldn’t hurt,” Gideon said shrugging.

“Let’s start with the older brother, what do we know about Dean Winchester?” Hotch asked to the room. He was staring at the board that they had set up.

“He lost his mother in a house fire when he was four, he has an alcohol problem,” Spencer said.

“He’s overprotective of (y/n) and according to her he’s kind, but also jealous and he keeps to himself,” Derek added.

“He has serious daddy issues. He and his little brother were always moving around as little kids from what we know it doesn’t seem that John Winchester treated his children too kindly. It seems like he treated them more like soldiers than kids,” Elle put in, “and based on the few pages of his journal that we got photocopies of from that sheriff out in California, he is nine kinds of crazy.”

“He drives a car from before his time and thinks that he kills monsters for a living. Overall, it seems that he has several underlying issues, much as the younger brother, Sam does,” Gideon finished talking about Dean’s profile, “Sam was always a smart kid and was pretty small until his junior year of high school. He was probably bullied at school and by his father. He got away from the family until his girlfriend died in a house fire a few months ago.”

“That would crush anyone, and with no one left at Stanford he dropped and started road tripping with his older brother,” Derek continued.

“So where does this leave us for location? I doubt they’ve been back to Lawrence since they left as kids,” Hotch posted.

“And where does Gabriel fit into all of this?” Spencer questioned.

“Yeah I’d like him to teach me that party trick of his after we put him behind bars,” Derek spat.

Hotch sighed, “We’re missing something here, something big. I feel like there’s a chunk of their lives that we haven’t talked about yet. They might not have any living biological family, but maybe we should look and see if there is anyone else they’re close to. Someone who could be a better father figure than their actual father or maybe a mother figure.”

Derek stood up, “I’ll get Garcia on it,” He said as he pulled out his phone and left the room. The team could all feel Hotch’s anxiety, he had seen so many bad things happen in his life that he was terrified something was going to happen to one of the people he cared about most. He didn’t want you to ever become an FBI agent because he didn’t want you to see the things that he did every day, but this was his worst nightmare. The thought of you looking like some of the victims that he’s seen in his lifetime makes his stomach churn. He felt trapped, like there was nothing that they could do to help you right now. He felt hopeless, lost and by the nature of the crimes that Dean is supposed to have committed, Hotch was worried that they might already be too late.

205 notes · View notes

stunudo · 6 years ago

Text

BAU Prep School AU: Class of 18

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. (image link) 2016-2017 school year Class of 18

Forward

December 31, 2017 4:17pm

Derek had gotten comfortable; the steaks were marinating and there were just a few things to grab from the grocery store. He brought up a college bowl game he had recorded while they were flying home from Chicago. Somehow, he naively thought he could watch it while Penelope was in the shower, as he didn’t need much time to get ready himself.

“Derek Avery Morgan! I know that’s not your middle name, but it’s the middle name I gave you in my head before I knew your real middle name. What are you doing?”

“Watching the game?” Derek answered sheepishly, quickly hunching his shoulders for the onslaught. “Baby girl, the food is ready, and you were in the shower.”

Penelope stormed into the room, placing herself unceremoniously between Derek and the television screen. “What about the decorations? The liquor? The little sparkly hats? Derek, it is our first New Year’s Eve Party, it has to. Be. Purrrrr-fect!”

Derek’s head fell, he gathered his features to not display the amount of amusement he had at her berating him in nothing but a barely cinched towel. He tried to look her in the eye, but his lingered along the way up her body. His mischievous grin caused her to stomp in frustration. She held up a manicured finger, “No! Don’t you even look at me with those bedroom eyes! We have people coming over and you have decorations to pick up.”

“Can I at least get a goodbye kiss?” Derek stood, his sultry voice causing Penelope to roll her eyes. The towel on her head shifting slightly.

“Fine,” She muttered, pretending not to enjoy the way his lips trailed up her jaw. His hand slipped inside her towel and found her bare waist. “Oh, this was a bad idea.” She huffed as her hands linked behind Derek’s neck. Her towel was soon forgotten on the floor of the living room.

7:03pm

Tara strolled through the bourbon aisle at the liquor store just down the street from Penelope and Derek’s place. She ignored the appreciative stares from the men standing behind the counter with the scratch offs and Black and Milds. She had a knee length wool coat over her favorite maxi dress, her unneeded heels marking each graceful step. She didn’t feel obligated to bring something, since Penelope undoubtedly had more than enough food and drink on hand. But she hated to be the first one to arrive, so she killed time on one of the busiest drinking nights of the year. She watched the kids maneuver in the parking lot, doling out their cash to the one legal friend or one with the most acceptable fake i.d.

The brusque man behind the counter with the jilting accent rolled his eyes and refused the frat boy his stash. Tara smiled despite herself, one less driver to worry about tonight, she thought. She settled on a bottle of Jim Beam Black and left the small store with a wistful wink for the law-abiding business owner. The night air was cool, but no where near as cold as New Hampshire in the winter. She enjoyed the block and a half walk, just people watching. Something had struck in the back of her mind after her would-be date with Rossi, something like an itch had taken over.

8:37pm

“Wait! Spence, your tie!” Elle giggled as she pulled his arm back, forcing him to face her. She straightened the satin strands as he tried to bite back the guilty smirk. “Don’t look at me like that! We’re already late!”

“And whose fault is that?” Spencer teased, holding his elbow out for Elle to slip her arm through.

“Yours. Now, stop beaming like a kid in the candy store or everyone will know.”

“I can’t help it.” Spencer tried unsuccessfully to make his face more serious, he shrugged as Elle knocked on the front door. She rolled her eyes, thinking how lucky he was to be cute and hopeless, because she couldn’t stay mad at him for being completely enamored with her.

“Happy New Year!” Derek’s boisterous voice burst through the door as he froze staring. “Elle? Reid?!”

“Hey, Derek,” Elle slipped passed him with a half hug and into the heart of the party. Derek meanwhile tried to have a silent conversation with Reid who was desperately confused by the coach’s dramatic eyebrow motions.

“Man, you mean to tell me, that you, Dr. Nerd-Point-O brought Elle Greenaway to my New Year’s Eve party?!” He clarified with ample approval.

“I’d think it was obvious, Coach. I mean, we’re only living together.” Spencer gave Derek a wilted glance, tucking the tousled strands of hair behind his ears.

“That’s who you were talking about at Tutoring Hour!” Derek swatted Spencer’s chest in a biting back hand. “You dog! Well, congratulations, man, good for you!”

“Thanks, it is good, actually.” Spencer turned bright pink as Derek caught on, because Elle’s hair was particularly pinched in one place and Spencer’s shirt wasn’t tucked in in the back.

“Let me know if you want the tour!” Derek called over his shoulder as he went to let Haley and Hotch in.

Penelope squealed across the room as Elle subtly slipped into the conversation with Chris Callahan, Matt Simmons, JJ and the hostess herself. “You came! Oh, Elle-O-V-E, my sweet, I am so glad you came!”

“Hi, Penelope. How many have you had?” Elle mumbled as she hugged the affectionate blonde.

“Oh, pish, I’m home, I’ll have one more at midnight, but three if you’re serious.” Penelope squeezed Elle one last time before getting back to Chris talking about his new surround sound system. She haphazardly explained who Elle was to Matt and they nodded cordially. JJ and Matt gave Elle an impressed and appraising smirk (respectfully) as she explained she was also Spencer’s live-in girlfriend.

9:12pm

Emily was picking at the veggie tray, desperately trying to look casual while she dwindled the tower of sugar snap peas down to a single layer. Spencer had forgotten to eat and had unceremoniously began filling a tiny snack plate with each of the major food groups, hovering over the toothpicks stacked with cheese cubes. Because though he loved it, dairy didn’t always agree with him. Quickly, Spencer arrived at the veggie tray as Emily was looking off into the party vaguely.

“Phenethylamine, which is often shortened to P-E-A, is actually found in those crunchy varietals that you have been devouring. It’s one of the—"

“Love chemicals. Isn’t it the aphrodisiac found in chocolate?” Emily replied, her voice even and nearing on friendly.

“Research in the eighties linked them, however there has been no repeat success in linking libido and chocolate. But, it can’t hurt. I mean, everybody loves chocolate.” Spencer snatched the last pea pod from the tray as he finished.

“Right. Wow, Reid, got enough food there?” Emily exclaimed as she saw his overflowing plate.

“That’s the plan.” He sighed as he caught Derek and Penelope gossiping across the room. “Emily what would the easiest way to explain how much I regret being unnecessarily cruel last year, be? Well, last school year, and you didn’t deserve that.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed, she watched him twitch as he waited for her response. “Spencer,” his first name sticky in her mouth, “I- I said a lot of things I am not proud of. Let’s just call it square and move on.”

“Really?” Spencer’s eyes still held that brilliant innocence within them.

“Really, Reid.” Emily’s deep-chested chortle burst through. “Happy New Year.”

“And to you,” Spencer bowed his head and headed to find a spot on the couch.

10:48pm

Aaron Hotchner stood back and admired his friends and staff. He was in good company, his beautiful wife laughing at his side, listening to Luke retell a joke so she could memorize it. Around the house his team was reveling in witty conversation and exquisite food. His body was warm from proximity and alcohol, but Haley anchored him in place, instinctively. Luke had acclimated unexpectedly well to life at F.B.I. and Hotch was proud of his choice. He was lamenting losing Simmons when JJ returned from maternity leave next semester and wished he could find a way to keep him on board.

“Well, ask Strauss, there’s got to be funds available.” Haled exclaimed. Hotch hadn’t realized he was thinking aloud. The realization and blatant solution abruptly brought him back to the present.

“How did a guy like me get such a smart and gorgeous wife?” Aaron murmured as Haley huffed in faux exasperation.

“Forgive my husband, he gets like this when he drinks.” Haled sighed through a giggle as Aaron started playing with her hair. “Mr. Serious most days becomes an expressive sap once you get more than two drinks in him.”

“Nah, it’s alright, I mean, there are worse drunks to have around,” Luke grinned, downplaying how out of character the headmaster was acting. He was having a great time getting to know Haley. There were a lot of people he got along well with since moving to Virginia, but something about Hotch’s wife clicked within him. Like a long-lost sister or middle school friend, he felt they could talk for hours and never be bored with one another. Perhaps it was the pleasantness that had caused Luke to miss the forlorn glances from a particular groundskeeper looming near the wine rack on the counter.

11:23pm

“Just use the master, through the bedroom,” Penelope insisted to Tara when she asked for a bathroom. It was awkward waltzing through her co-workers’ intimate spaces, but she had a feeling there were more than two people occupying the other bathroom and she did not have the patience for that wait. It was clear that Derek was wiggling his way into Penelope’s well-established space. The vibrant colors and hanging beads leading to the walk-in closet signature of the guidance counselor while the chest of drawers with minimal jewelry and cufflinks a hint of Derek’s masculine elegance.

She hadn’t realized someone had left the bathroom and caught her snooping. “It’s weird walking through their room, right?” Kate clucked as she lingered at a picture of Derek’s extended family.

“Completely… enthralling,” Tara held up a a particularly oddly knotted tie. “I’m not going to ask.”

“Good idea.” Kate hummed, her bright face more smiley than normal. “I’m having a blast! Are you having fun?”

“Yeah, I was in a mood earlier, but now I’m better.” Tara confided, they were standing in the near the door way, Kate leaning against Derek’s dresser while Tara stood nearly a foot taller than her.

“Oh? Anything the matter?” Kate’s caregiver instincts etched into her face.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Tara smiled, letting her friend’s features ease back.

“Uh-oh, looks like somebody still left up some Christmas decorations,” Kate giggled as she pointed to the sprig of mistletoe behind Tara’s head.

“I mean, it’s Penelope, that could be a year-round tradition for her,” Tara shrugged.

“Yeah, but I mean. It’s bad luck to not kiss under it, isn’t it?” Kate seemed overly concerned and as Tara knew the history of the poisonous plant she remained skeptical until Kate stepped over and stood directly beneath it.

“Are you serious? You want me to kiss you, just for luck?” Tara rolled her eyes as she turned to face the very curvaceous petite brunette.

“Duh!” Kate added, closing her eyes and lifting her jaw. Tara’s lack of inhibitions returned full force as her lips met Kate’s. Her hands cradled the nape of Kate’s neck as her mouth opened, if by surprise or pleasure Tara couldn’t be sure. But she did know that Kate was kissing her back, her nimble tongue darting against Tara’s.

“Uh, is anyone in the bathroom?” A voice broke the women apart, their faces burning and eyes locking on to the source.

11:52pm

“Holy crow, it’s almost midnight!” Penelope lept up from the couch where she had been nestled between Grant who had been sipping a massive glass of red and tucked beneath Emily’s reclining legs. Emily huffed as she had catch herself from falling off the couch with an uneven back arch and balancing act with the coffee table. The fact that she held it and sat comfortably back down on her end of the couch, earned her a few hoots and applause.

Penelope shuffled out of the heart of the party to gather the champagne and her midnight smooching companion. “Chocolate Thunder Assemble!”

“That doesn’t really work when you’re looking for one person,” Chris Callahan smiled casually from one of the bar stools.

“Hush!” Penelope pointed and shushed the large man. “Derek! I need thee! Oh, here you are! Pop the bottles, Hot Stuff. We got flutes to full, fill.”

“I’m at your service, Sweet Thing.” Derek purred, easily going down the row and letting the fizzy liquid to snake out of two of the four bottles they had bought for the twelve o’clock toast. They scrambled throughout their home doling out disposable cups and noise makers. Matt graciously changed the channel to the Times’ Square Countdown in NYC. Elle and Spencer were discreetly handed sparkling cider by a winking Derek.

Impeccably timed, Penelope snapped her 2018 headband on as she linked hands with Derek. They stood to the side, enjoying the view of their guests bunching together to chant the formidable countdown.

Spencer and Elle were bumping elbows and shoulders, knuckles and knees to each beat of the countdown like goofy kids.

Emily stood behind JJ her glass held lazily at her hip as they swayed to the chorus around them.

Chris, Kate, Haley and Hotch all stood in a line pumping their fists as if it were a pep rally.

Tara sidled up to Matt as he looked like her best bet for a passing kiss at the buzzer.

“Happy New Year!” The room erupted as the year fell over, bringing hope and happiness in a haze of alcohol and incorrigible optimism. Across town many of their students were celebrating in much similar fashions, yet the teachers carried on, kissing cheeks and hugging one another as if this, truly, would be the best year of their lives. Penelope and Derek were the last to break for air, well, they thought they were.

After hugging everyone again, Penelope stumbled slack-jawed upon Luke and Grant locked in their own intense bubble. She cleared her throat; the room fell silent around the alarmed hostess.

“Uh-kem!” She tried again, prodding Luke’s shoulder forcefully with her fingertip. Dramatically slowly, Luke and Grant separated themselves, their clothes twisted at all angles from their torrid make out session. “Finally! Hugs, the both of you, c’mon!” She made grabby hands in the air as both men begrudgingly stood to give her a squeeze. Once sated she pushed them back together and started collecting empty plates and cups.

Soon the partygoers said their goodbyes, Matt volunteered to drive Grant and Luke, somewhere as neither one of them were quite sober. He paused before he slipped on his seatbelt to check his phone, finally at nearly twelve thirty he received the message he had been waiting for. He replied simply before tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Alrighty boys, whose place is closest?”

Back inside, Elle helped JJ sort through the pile of coats on Pen’s purple duvet.

“Can you believe what a difference a year makes?” JJ waxed philosophical, Elle’s face fell at the harsh reality of last New Year’s Eve.

“Hey, JJ?” Elle caught the blonde off guard as she pulled her hair out from the collar of her winter jacket.

“What’s up?”

“Look, I know what’s done is done. But, I’m really sorry I encouraged you last year, with the guy in the bar. I was miserable and was using you as a distraction from my own shit.” Elle exhaled. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry, JJ. I know it worked out for you and Em in the end, but it shouldn’t have been like that. And some of that is on me.”

“And I wouldn’t have had Henry.” JJ countered. “Elle, I understand that making amends is one of your steps. But, there’s no amends to be made. I made my choices and I’ll continue to live with the consequences. Deal?”

Elle watched her friend closely, her fierce eyes burning with authority, but also a genuine sympathy. “Life is too short for holding on to past mistakes, Elle. I forgive you, but in the end, you have to forgive yourself.”

Elle nodded, letting the tears sting as she gave JJ a half smile. They fell into a gentle hug, friends that had countless moments between them and endless chances for more. Spencer knocked on the door jam when he found Elle and JJ embracing.

“Ready?” He asked simply, trying to hide the concern from his brow as the women chuckled away the tears.

“Yeah, let me just give Pen our best,” Elle smiled simply, leaving a peck on Spencer’s chiseled cheek. JJ and Spencer shared a look, he waved at her before turning to follow Elle out of the bedroom.

Jan 1, 2018 1:34am

“I can’t believe he is still asleep!” JJ shook her head after checking on Henry for the third time since coming home.

“Let him sleep, babe. We can enjoy the extra time to ourselves,” Emily was gently removing her signature heavy mascara, watching JJ in the mirror behind her.

“Who would have thought our world could change so much in a year?” JJ whispered into the hallway. Emily let the memories and confusion float through her thoughts, watching JJ process the same moments from her point of view. The guilt still haunted her, Emily could feel it when Will’s face shown on Henry’s features or when Elizabeth Prentiss made one of her wildly passive aggressive comments.

“From then until now, I wouldn’t change a thing, Jayge.” Emily held JJ’s hands in her own, trying to draw those cerulean irises to focus on her coffee-rich ones.

“And next year? Will we still be here? Together?” JJ asked, more burdens then Emily imagined weighted her words.

“If you’ll have me.” Emily said it simply and before she knew it. But she accepted her words as truth, buttoning her mouth from further confessions.

JJ’s interest was piqued, but instead of answering she laid her head on Emily’s shoulder, her lover’s arms encasing her exhausted form. They stood like that as long as JJ needed, Emily stroking her hair as she grumbled and sighed. Time passes and we either change or we get lost along the way, but Jennifer and Emily were doing it together whether they realized what a miracle they had started or not.

Next Chapter: Slump

@mentallydatingspencerreid @dontshootmespence @ultrarebelheart @lyrasilverroseelizabethamanti @cynbx @rikersgirl22 @pllfrommars @wheresthewater @darknesstoglowing @adropintheocean1234567 @tleighstone12 @unitchiefwives @sam-carter-in-training @prettyboysjello @ddreammcatcher @thegirlinflames @night–hawk @t25luver @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @thismiss02 @literallyprentissstwin @usercorgis @natalie-fangirl @holding-on-to-francis @nikkipea @alisonxnguyen @nsanchez1992 @callmesandwichplease @theonlyonelives @emmiej @sherlokiwholmes

17 notes · View notes

bethofbells · 7 years ago

Text

Solace - A Criminal Minds (Derek/Penelope) fic

On FF.net | On AO3

(I’m rewatching the series and I’m like mid season three and my morcia shipper heart is getting to me)

At the end of a long hard day of seeing the worst humanity has to offer Penelope Garcia likes things to be soft and sweet. Old romantic comedies are a go to on nights when she can’t get graphic images out of her mind. She puts them on, turning the volume down to a pleasant murmur in the background. She likes the sound of people falling in love while she’s cooking dinner, early nineties soundtracks filling her cluttered apartment as she chops up veggies.

Her favorite is You’ve Got Mail. There’s just something about the texture of the film, Meg Ryan’s soft blonde bob and her decidedly taupey monochromatic wardrobe are soothing in a way. It’s the complete opposite of Penelope’s own bright and flashy sense of style, but it fits the character so perfectly she doesn’t mind. It’s comforting when someone leans into their own personality.

She contemplates the seemingly endless monochromatic collection of turtlenecks and slacks that the character owns, getting lost in the feel of the movie. She’s grateful for that. The BAU’s last case, while not the most horrific one she’d ever been subjected to, was so just unrelentingly sad. It had made her feel heavy waking out of the office tonight, melancholia clinging to her like a wet blanket.

She’s half way through a pint of her favorite Ben & Jerry’s, watching Meg Ryan happy-cry into Tom Hank’s arms when her door buzzer sounds. It’s only then that she realizes she’s crying right along with the movie, moving to dash away the moisture running down her face.

A quick glance at the time tells her it’s past midnight, and she can’t help the little thrill of fear that trickles down her spine. It hasn’t been that long since her apartment building was a scene of mayhem, a man hell-bent on killing her stalking the halls. She can still feel the cold metal of the gun Derek had pressed into her hands for protection. Shuddering, she moves to see who’s buzzing.

Her finger presses down on the button, only a slight tremor revealing her anxiety. “H-hello. Who is it?”

”It’s your knight, coming to release you from your tower.”

She smiles, the fear draining out of her completely. “I like my tower just fine, thank you very much. It has high speed wifi and a well stocked freezer.”

She buzzes him up before waiting for a reply, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. It strikes her as odd, but she shakes it off, attributing it to the fact that Derek has never really been to her home when circumstances weren’t dire.

He’s knocking on her door in minutes and she doesn’t have to fake the bright smile that splits across her face when she swings it open.

He’s come straight from the airport, and he looks tired, his travel bag hanging on his shoulder, eyes not their usual brightness. It worries her for a second, but she’s no profiler, doesn’t want to be, so she chalks it up to the exhausting nature of a transcontinental flight and invites him the rest of the way in

”Not that I’m averse to inviting a deliciously handsome and roguish looking gentleman into my boudoir in the middle of the night, but what are you doing here?”

It’s not normal, and they both know it, but Derek has a look on his face that Penelope’s not used to. It’s sad and tired. She has the strongest urge to step forward and wrap her arms around him.

After a long pause, he answers. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

It’s something of a lie, and they both know it, but his expression begs her to accept it and so she does. He moves further into her apartment, dropping his bag on the hardwood with a thunk. “This is the first week the teams been gone since…” He trails off, the mere mention of her attack seems like just one more thing that makes him sad and tired. “… and I know you were probably a little edgy the whole time.”

Somehow they’ve migrated into her little kitchen area, Derek leaning against her island in an almost obscene display of his natural tendency to strike a modelesque pose. Her eyes involuntarily give him a once over. He’s another one of those people who really leans into the image they present to the word. His dark fitted tee accentuating the line of his pecs, the sleeves cutting across his arm in the perfect place to make his biceps seem enormous. Internally she fans herself like a southern belle suddenly accosted with a bout of the vapors. Externally she’s as cool as a cucumber, a slight bite of her bottom lip the only sign of her inner struggle.

Of course he notices the small movement, one of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows arching upward in amusement. He leans forward, reaching up to catch her bottom lip with his thumb. “You alright there, Pen?”

She smiles at him, adopting her most sultry gaze. It’s her only defense against Derek’s charms, to play along with this game of his. It had been like this from day one. She knows his flirtation is not serious, so she responds flippantly. “Oh, I’m more than alright, Agent Morgan. Just enjoying the view.”

It has the desired result. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he lets out an amused laugh, moving in to land a smacking kiss on her cheek. The strange tension is broken, and he moves toward her fridge to rummage through it for leftovers. “I’m starving, baby girl. The jet of ours is seriously lacking in snack department.”

She moves him out of the way, digging around and making him a plate of what she’d had for dinner hours ago. In minutes they’re sitting side by side on her couch, watching the opening scenes of her second favorite romcom. Harry and Sally are arguing when Derek sets his empty plate on the coffee table, a satisfied sigh escaping him.

She catches him staring, a strange feeling fluttering in the pit of her stomach. For the millionth time since she met him she thinks about how unfair it is, the way he can unthinkingly melt her into a gooey puddle and just go about his life like it’s no big deal.

But he has an unusual expression on his face this time, like he needs to say something but just can’t find the words. He opens his mouth, but closes it, awkwardly waiting a second before he tries again. “I missed you.”

It’s her turn to feel awkward. Things have been different between them since her attack. The deep cut of hurt she’d experienced when he’d seemed skeptical about her romantic life was still in the back of her mind, and she’d definitely been calling the other agents more frequently with information when they were out in the field. She couldn’t help it, there was still a thin film of embarrassment. He’d been right, and god her cheeks still flamed when she’d thought about how angry she’d been at him. It was, she knew, a very revelatory response, one that she knew Derek (one of the bureau’s he’d profilers) had picked up on.

”Derek, look, I’m sorry. You were right about Battle. I just–”

”No, stop. You have nothing to apologize for. I, uh, wasn’t exactly using my abilities as profiler when it came to him.”

”Huh?”

”I was being selfish, I think.” He frowns, trying to articulate what he means. “I felt defensive when you told me you’d met someone, like it meant whatever our thing was might have to change.”

”Our thing?” The hope that springs in her chest momentarily takes her breath away.

”You’re my best friend, Pen… kind of all I have.”

”Oh.” It’s a quiet response, accompanied by a mixture of disappointment and affection. She hates the lonely note in his voice.

“…and when you said you blew him off… I was so relieved I said the first stupid thing that came into my head. It had nothing to do with you.”

She doesn’t have a response. Unspoken is the idea that he was possibly jealous. It sends a thrill through her, but she does her best to tamp it down. “Well, I am sorry too. I have a few sensitive spots, and you just… sort of accidentally found one.” She sighs. “And it’s not like you were wrong.”

She’s staring at the screen now, avoiding looking directly at him. That’s how she feels his touch against her face before she sees him move. His fingers slide under her chin, making her look at him. “Look at me, angel.”

She does. His eyes, when they aren’t sparkling with amusement are always so sincere. It’s no different now, and she feels the remnants of whatever made her cry earlier stir in her chest.

”He was a scumbag, yes.” Derek continues without relinquishing her gaze. “But I’m so lucky that you’re the one who’s on the other end of the lin when my phone rings, that you’re the one I get to come home to after spending a week in a strange place with horrible people. I don’t ever want that to change.”

She smiles, leaning into his embrace. “It’s not going to.”

”Promise?”

”Promise.”

And that’s how they sleep together the first time. Innocently. Penelope’s head tucked under his chin, her ear pressed against his heart. Whatever nightmares lie in wait for the both of them are shoved to the periphery, the sound of people falling in love coming from the television as the two drift into unconsciousness.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #morcia #morgan x garcia #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #(I've already got a couple chapters for this thought out in #my head)

61 notes · View notes