#there's also a scene where he lifts emily out of bed and it made me want to write a million domestic fics of them having a family

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite mulder moments from s5

breaking into the labyrinth of the department of defense in episode 1 to find the cure for scully, finding only a vial of water, and the ensuing devastation that crosses his face

in the beginning of episode 2, scully is in the hospital, and he reveals that he faked his death to come visit her (“you move pretty good for a dead man”, skinner says, to which he replies “i’m only half dead”). he's going utterly ballistic, screaming “i’ll calm down when i have a reason to calm down!”, and then nearly collapses as he sees her sick in bed. only skinner's threat of arrest after they come to blows can make him see straight

he sees CSM in the hall of the hospital where scully is recovering, and spits at him “please tell me you’re here with severe chest pains” <-LMAOOOO

and when CSM tries to win him over to the dark side through scully’s cure and showing him his “sister”, he absolutely refuses, saying “you murdered my father. you killed scully’s sister, and if scully dies, i will kill you. i don’t care whose father you are, i will put you down” (LOUD CHEERING!!!!!!!)

enduring bill scully's horrible attacks on his character, trying to sympathize with his pain despite how awful he is being because he knows what it feels like to lose loved ones for the Truth. he tells this man that is being so awful to him that he lost his father and sister in his quest for answers, so he can relate to the pain he feels- only to be met with more scorn

he comes into scully’s hospital room again later on, where she is sound asleep, and he lays his head next to her and sobs

defending scully in her absence at his big important hearing; explaining how she was sent to spy on him, but “that agent scully did not follow these orders is a testament to her integrity as an investigator, a scientist, and a human being” <3

and then he SOMEHOW guesses correctly that the mole is section chief blevins, who had been on the payroll of the biotech company for years... i want to unpack if he figured it out subconsciously or was just equal parts lucky and confident, but i feel that we will never truly know

he tells skinner that scully’s cancer is in remission, saying it is the best news he has ever heard, then cries in the hallway of the hospital, holding the bloody photo of him and samantha as kids

he meets frohike for the very first time in 1989 in episode 3 and declines his offer of bootleg cable by saying “no thanks, handsome”, which prompts frohike to call him "a man of taste". thus began his long tradition of flirting with the boys

he was RACING back to the motel room at the end of episode 4, banging on the door, telling scully to get in the car NOW, and narrowly saving her from the florida mothman who was hiding under the bed!!!! i <3 protective mulder!!!

in episode 7, he flies down as soon as he can to vouch for scully's capability to adopt emily. scully introduces him to her as “a friend”, and he starts making funny faces to get her to laugh right away. he points out that the girl’s adoptive parents were both murdered, and when scully says that she can protect her, he asks “yeah, but who’s gonna protect you?”; he testifies on her behalf, even though he says he shouldn’t, because he knows it’ll put her in danger

later, he confronts the doctor who refuses to transfer over emily’s medical files. he pulls out his gun, points it at the doctor’s head, and asks “why don’t you tell me whose life is worth saving, yours or hers?” - he's so quick to adjust to scully's news of having a child and so quick to draw blood on her behalf

they’re bickering about the case in episode 8, so mulder, in a rare moment of clarity, steps back to ask what they both agree on and says they can work from there. i was shocked! in a good way! after 5 years, he finally learned to manage their opposing viewpoints in a way that can get things done! (i am sure this will never happen again)

his tree climbing detour in episode 9, plus the legendary line “hey scully, is this demonstration of boyish agility turning you on at all?” (and then bonus points for his sad descent as he is needed back on the ground right after he got up there)

his complete inability to function without scully while she is on vacation in episode 10- he actually TWIRLS the phone line while calling her!!!

and when he calls her for the 800th time, he greets her saying “morning, sunshine!” while loudly thumping his basketball up and down until she has to ask him wtf that noise is... so he lies, saying there is construction outside his window, and yells, telling the nonexistent construction worker to quiet down <- LMAOOO it killed me!!! (his basketball thumping has always been used to indicate his inability to relax... truly there is no peace for him without the bestie in town)

he’s SOOOO jealous when scully thinks the cowboy sheriff in episode 12 is cute (he recalls him having a thick southern drawl with huge teeth, so when they have to fly back down, she points out that they are totally normal-sized, and he still disputes this fact until the very end of the episode)

in episode 14, he sprints to find scully after she was present for the mass burning; he runs his fingers through her hair when she is in the hospital for vasogenic shock

post-krycek breaking into his house and beating him up, warning him that the end of the world is coming, scully finds him in his apartment sitting in the dark. “what are you doing sitting here in the dark?”, she asks. “thinking” “about what?” “oh, the usual- destiny, fate, how to throw a curveball… the inextricable relationships in our lives that are neither accidental nor somehow entirely in our control, either”

calling scully back from a payphone in the pouring rain in episode 17 to help get her some information on her personal case <3

(he also really nerds out in that episode about eye imagery in the bible, apocrypha, and references jesus christ superstar... a man of culture)

((and he was SO protective of scully- he stepped in when the priest was being all shady, tried to advise her not to let him get into her head, and we got to see some incredibly rare emotional communication when he said “i’ve never seen you more vulnerable or susceptible or more easily manipulated, and it scares me because i don’t know why”. he was grabbing her shoulders and pulling her in close, telling her she should step away when she mentions the visions of emily… god. he was SO worried!!))

when he’s being tortured in episode 18, he tells the man hurting him over and over again that he will kill him, which i thought was really fascinating

being willing to risk all of the x files in episode 20 because he fully believes that scully is correct about gibson being the key to explaining them, even though skinner warns against it... that is complete trust <3

[ninjatrashpanda]

Sudden Surprises and Happy Holidays

Written for @bucktommywinterfest

Prompt: Christmas

Rated: G

Tags: established relationship, fluff, mpreg, pregnant buck

Read on AO3 here.

Also a continuation of my Sudden Surprises series, but can be read standalone.

“Tommy. Tommy, wake up!”

Tommy groaned and turned to the other side, away from the voice that tried to rip him from his tenderest of slumbers. Literally nothing had ever sounded less appealing than waking up right now, not even Evan telling him that it was his turn to change the twins’ diapers. Whatever that voice said, he’d just stay here, in his cozy, warm cocoon he’d made himself with his sheets and keep sleeping.

Sleeping…

Slee…ping…

“You’re forcing my hand here, babe.”

Before Tommy’s sleep-addled brain could even begin to try and make sense of the voice, (that grew more and more familiar with every word…) he suddenly felt a forceful push against his back. With a startled yelp, his eyes snapping wide open, he felt himself move over the edge of the mattress and land hard on the ground with a thud.

Tommy groaned from his new position on the floor, tangled in sheets and disoriented. He rubbed his shoulder where he had landed awkwardly, the haze of sleep still fogging up his head like a Fall morning. His back also began to ache, now that the shock somewhat wore off, but that was at least familiar enough in his more advanced age to not bother him. (Much.)

“What the hell, Evan?” he muttered, squinting up at the figure looming over him. The early morning light streaming through the window illuminated Evan’s smug grin, his arms crossed as he leaned against the bedpost. The rays of the rising sun made Evan, and his slightly rounded stomach hiding under the oversized t-shirt he wore, glow with a kind of radiance Tommy still couldn’t quite believe was his. “I’m almost fifty and my back is bad as is! I thought you loved me!”

“I warned you, babe,” Evan said, a playful lilt in his voice. “Not my fault you didn’t listen.”

Tommy groaned again, more dramatically this time, as he tried to untangle himself from the cocoon of sheets that now resembled more of a snare trap. “There are so many better ways to wake someone up than shoving them out of bed! Breakfast in bed, a gentle kiss, coffee—” He paused mid-ramble, fixing Evan with a squinting, accusing glare. “You didn’t even make coffee, did you?”

Evan raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I’m not allowed to drink it, so why would I?”

“I’m sorry, are you using your pregnancy to be mean to me?”

Evan chuckled, crouching down as much as he could to help untangle Tommy from the sheets. “Maybe it’s mean, but at least it’s effective, isn’t it? Besides, don’t act like you wouldn’t pull something ten times worse if you were the one carrying Bean.”

Tommy hoisted himself to his feet by his nightstand, albeit with a dramatic grunt for added flair. He decidedly ignored Evan’s outstretched hand. (He was very much above Evan’s lifting limit.) “Yeah, well, I don’t remember the last time I shoved you off the bed like I was reenacting a scene from The Looney Tunes.”

Evan snorted, his hand going to his belly in an instinctual protective gesture. “I seem to recall someone pretending to be dead to get out of dishes last week. Don’t make me call Benji and Emily as witnesses.”

Tommy opened his mouth to retort but paused, narrowing his eyes again. “I don’t like how fast you decided to weaponize our children against me. That’s supposed to be my thing.”

Evan grinned, giving Tommy a light shove towards the bathroom. “Go get ready. It’s Christmas, and the pups are going to be up and about to wreck their presents in less than an hour.”

🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄🎅🏻🎄

“Okay, that’s the last one,” Tommy muttered as he placed the final package, wrapped in shiny blue paper adorned with stars and moons, with a pretty yellow bow on top, on the pile underneath their tree. Its green needles seemed so shimmer under the red and gold ornaments and silver tinsel, the star on top proudly overlooking the living room. Tommy stood up and instantly groaned as his aching back cracked as he straightened up.

A quick glance at the clock told him that 6:30 was rapidly drawing nearer. Only a few more minutes until two excited five-year-olds would slam open the door to their room, stampede down the hallway and commit genocide on boxes and wrapping paper. Tommy let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over his shoulder toward the doorway. A shiver ran down his spine, a sense of parental premonition.

The twins were awake. Time to brace himself.

He turned back toward the tree and admired the setup for a moment longer. Stockings hung on the bookshelf holding Buck’s various cook books, stuffed to the brim with tiny trinkets and sweets. A half eaten plate of cookies rested on the coffee table, alongside an empty glass that had once been filled with milk. Santa’s work was done. The scene was perfect. Now all he needed was—

“Daddy! Papa!”

The shrill shouts pierced the quiet like a pincushion. Tommy barely had time to prepare himself before two blur-like figures rushed through the door and barreled into him at full force, almost toppling him over, forcing a yelp out of him. Benji latched onto his left leg while Emily clung to his right, both of them bouncing with uncontainable excitement.

“Look at all the presents!” Benji cried, his face lighting up as he spotted the colorful mountain beneath the tree.

“Santa came! He really came!” Emily echoed, her curls bouncing wildly as she tried to pull away from Tommy’s leg to inspect the haul, though he kept a firm hand on both her and her brother.

With a laugh, Tommy moved his hands to ruffle the pups’ hair. “Of course, he came. You two were good all year, weren’t you?”

The twins went still at once, almost as if time had stopped moving forward. After a second, Emily shot Benji a glance, which he answered with a shrug he probably thought was subtle. She hesitated for a moment longer before giving a slow, uncertain nod. Benji’s mouth stretched into a wide, innocent grin. “Mostly good?” he suggested, tightening his hug on Tommy’s leg.

Tommy snorted, shaking his head as he finally let them go. “Mostly good works, I guess.”

The sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Evan entering the room, carrying a tray with coffee for Tommy, hot chocolate for the kids and tea for himself. He set the tray down on the coffee table with a soft smile, his other hand resting on his belly. “Dang, you two are up early! What’s the occasion?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at the pups.

“Santa doesn’t wait, Papa!” Emily declared, hands on her hips, a move she had learned from her Auntie Maddie. Tommy almost laughed out loud when she stomped her little foot in indignation, though he managed to bite it back in time to escape her wrath.

“Is Bean awake yet, Papa?” Benji asked, perking up at the sight of Evan’s bump, the usual “Baby Twinkle,” as Tommy and Evan had started to call it, entering his eyes. Benji had been overly excited from the moment they’d told the twins about the new baby, and from the moment Bean had actually started moving, his hands were constantly all over Evan’s stomach.

Evan chuckled softly, setting his tea down before sitting down on the couch. “Not yet, bud. Bean’s still snoozing. But give it time, I’m sure they’ll be up and about soon enough.”

With a nod, Benji’s face lit up, and he quickly scrambled over to his papa, climbing up to sit beside him. “Can I feel?” he asked eagerly, already reaching out.

“Gently, okay?” Evan said, guiding Benji’s hand to his belly. “Bean’s not a toy.”

Benji nodded sincerely, his little fingers spreading wide as he rested his hand on Evan’s stomach. His expression turned serious, like he was trying to will the baby to move. Emily, not one to be left out, hurried over and planted herself onto the couch on Evan’s other side, her hands reaching out as well.

“Me too, Papa!” she demanded.

A soft chuckle escaped Evan’s mouth and he shifted to give both of them enough space. “Alright, alright, there’s plenty of Bean to go around.”

Tommy walked over and sat down on the coffee table, grabbing his mug from the tray next to him, and watched the scene unfold with a warm grin. The twins’ faces lit up with wonder as they felt the faintest of movements under their hands.

“I think Bean just kicked me!” Emily exclaimed, eyes lighting up instantly.

“Me too!” Benji added, his excitement bubbling over. “They’re saying Merry Christmas to us!”

“Or they’re telling us to let them sleep,” Tommy teased as he playfully narrowed his eyes at the three (four) of them. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Letting everyone sleep properly?”

Benji and Emily giggled, completely ignoring their Daddy’s mock glare. Evan, however, reached for Tommy’s free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, the corners of his lips twitching up into a smirk.

“You love it,” Evan said softly.

Tommy rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face. “I love you, not the back pain.”

Evan leaned his head back against the couch, letting out a contented sigh. “Mmh, tough luck, babe, but I don’t think you can have one without the other.”

You little brat, Tommy thought, but before he could retort, Emily seemed to suddenly remember something and jumped up, pointing dramatically toward the tree. “Presents!” she declared with the authority of a queen.

Benji gasped. He, too, had apparently forgotten about the gifts when he’d gotten fixated on Bean. “Yeah! Presents! Can we open them now, Daddy? Please?”

Tommy exchanged a glance with Evan, who gave a small nod. “Alright, alright,” Tommy relented, putting his coffee on the table and standing up. “But remember the rules. One at a time, and we clean up the wrapping paper as we go. Got it?”

The twins nodded furiously, though Tommy suspected they’d forget the second the first present was torn open.

“Okay, who’s first?” Evan asked, gesturing toward the tree.

“Me!” Benji shouted, lunging for a brightly wrapped package with his name on it.

“No, me!” Emily countered, grabbing for one of her own.

Tommy stepped in quickly, pulling both kids back by the collars of their shirts before chaos could erupt. “Easy there, pups. Benji can go first, and then Emily. We’ll take turns, remember?”

The compromise seemed to satisfy them, (...for now.) and Benji eagerly tore into his package, revealing a box containing a bright red Hot Wheels car he could assemble himself. His eyes lit up with delight, and he immediately turned to Tommy and Evan. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, Papa!”

“You’re welcome, bud,” Tommy said, ruffling his hair. “Now let your sister have a turn.”

Emily approached her package with the careful precision of someone defusing a bomb. As the wrapping paper fell away, a small badminton set, complete with a bag, two bats and three shuttlecocks, appeared in its stead. “Yay! I love it! Thank you!”

Evan beamed at her. “Glad you like it, Em. You’ve got a few more to open, so pace yourself, okay?”

As the twins took turns unwrapping their gifts, the living room quickly filled with laughter, cheers, and the sound of ripping paper. Tommy, smirking, shared several glances with Evan, who was leaning back against the backrest of the couch with a soft smile, his hand absentmindedly caressing his swollen stomach (or, well, the baby inside it) and his eyes shining with joy. It filled Tommy’s chest with pure love, and he let out a content sigh.

This, this chaotic, cozy Christmas morning, was everything he had ever wanted and more. It was one of those moments where all the hardships, from his Dad leaving, to his mother being...the way she was, to losing Trevor in Iraq, suddenly seemed worth it. He was alive. He was married to the man he loved. He was raising two of the best kids he’d ever seen, with a third on the way.

And as he sat beside Evan, helping the twins piece together a toy rocket ship and listening to their endless chatter about how Bean would get to play with them next year, he felt his chest swell with gratitude. He wasn’t sure how he deserved all this, but he’d be forever grateful that he got to have it. There was nothing he’d trade this all away for.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” Evan murmured, leaning his head against Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy kissed the top of his head, letting his hand drift to rest over Evan’s on his stomach, where he felt Bean kicking against their palms. “Merry Christmas, love.”

[mommyemilyprentiss]

another blurb that no one asked for!!!!:)

Pairing: Dom!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: daddy kink, spanking, crying, implied overstimulation, mention of color system and safe word (but not used), degradation

a/n: this is a rare dom spencer moment bc sub spencer lives rent free in my mind. uh i don’t believe spencer’s a dom let alone a daddy dom or a hard dom, so this is strictly for my own fantasy lol. i’m also very much hoping that emmy doesn’t see this and come for my throat HAHAHHAHAHHAHA

You knew what you had done. Packing skimpy clothes in your go-bag, flirting with local officers, and sharing a room with Emily so that he couldn’t even do anything about it for 2 weeks. You knew you were in for it. And you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t your end goal.

Spencer didn’t say anything to you the whole ride from the tarmac all the way to your guys’ apartment. When he unlocked the door, you stepped inside and looked longingly at him, desperate for any kind of attention. He paid your puppy dog eyes little to no mind, walking past you.

“Bedroom.”, he ordered as he began unlacing his Converse.

You hung your head low in faux disappointment on your way there. You figured he wanted you to strip beforehand, because he always did, so you rid of all your clothing just in case. Even when he entered the room, he had no visible reaction to your bare form on the bed, retrieving something from the closet in silence. His silence made everything more erotic and unsettling at once, which he, of course, knew. He kept his hands behind his back to conceal the item from you as he stepped closer to the bed. Suddenly, your weight was swept from below you as he, quite literally, threw you over his lap. And as soon as the leather paddle touched your skin, it really settled in how utterly fucked you were.

“N-no...”, your voice came out far more broken than you wanted.

“No? I thought this was what you wanted?”

“No! No, p-please...”

“What’s your color, Y/N?”

“Green.”, you muttered.

“Good. And your safe word?”

“Lilac.”

“And you’ll use it if you need it?”

“Yes.”

Spencer didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he stopped rubbing over your skin with the paddle. Lifting it and smacking your ass hard.

“Ow, Daddy!”, you mewled, writhing around with tears already brimming your eyes.

“Be quiet, princess.”, it was more so a warning than an order, “and hold still.”

He wrapped one of his arms around the small of your back to pin you down before landing another hard smack. You felt a few tears slip down as you sniffled.

“Crying already, hm? We’re not even close to done, sweetheart.”

His words only egged your tantrum on as he alternated the intensity of his spanks. When you got to around 20 hits, your pleas had been dumbed down to broken moans and sobs.

“What do you say?”

“T-thank you, Daddy--”, you choked out.

“You’re welcome, baby.”, he pushed your hair behind your ear, placing a quick kiss on your temple, “Gonna make you feel good now, ok?”

You nodded absent-mindedly, mind hazy. Spencer wedged his hand between your legs where you were practically dripping down them, “Aw, I know you love punishments, puppy. You just like making a big scene, huh?”

You couldn’t respond as he circled your clit, weeping into the sheets.

“Such a pathetic little thing.”, he admired while slowly pushing one finger into your pussy. Your head shot up in pleasure.

“Ah! Feels s-so...good, Daddy!”

“Good enough to make acting like a whore worth it?”

“No! Mmf! M’sorry!”

“You better be.”, he forced another finger into you, starting a brutal pace. You squirmed and moaned out for him as he curled his fingers to hit the perfect spot, still rubbing your clit.

“Is the slut going to cum for me?”

“Y-yes, Daddy! Please can I cum, please?!”

“Go ahead.”

You coated his fingers in your release with a scream of his name as he worked you through your high--or so you thought. Even after you had come down, he maintained his pace.

“Sp--Spencer?!”

“You wanted attention so badly, you just couldn’t wait. Well, now you have my undivided attention. And you’ll take what I give you like a good little girl, isn’t that right?”

--

taglist: @spencereidsupremacy

fill out my taglist form here!! and let me know what you thought in my inbox!!

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Reader) -- chapter eleven

I’m backkkk <33 Enjoy!

Today’s chapter title comes from “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift and honestly? That song is Hotch and Reader’s song tbh

Chapter Warnings: fluff! Crime scene stuffs, case stuffs, and Hotch is an asshole at the end (what’s new?)

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Eleven: I thought, “Heaven can’t help me now.”

When you wake, you have a strange sense of Deja Vu. Hotch is shaking your shoulder again, only this time, you’re not in your bed.

“We’re landing soon,” he says softly, hand lingering on your shoulder, but you welcome its weight and warmth, forgetting for a moment that the rest of the team is on this jet.

“Mm, okay…” You bring the blanket underneath your chin, only this is when you realize it’s not a blanket.

You tilt your head down to look at the fabric, then lift your eyes back up to see Hotch isn’t wearing his jacket.

His jacket.

Oh my God.

He sees the realization on your face and smiles, but instead of commenting on it, he turns to start waking the others. As expected, Rossi didn’t sleep, but Reid is still quite frankly passed out. Emily, JJ, and Morgan are coming around, though, and upon seeing that, you scramble to get Hotch’s jacket off of you, catching Rossi’s eyes in the process.

“You were cold,” Rossi says with a shrug, and a smirk.

You shouldn’t be mortified, but you are.

After folding Hotch’s jacket over your arm, you wait until your boss is sitting back down to hand it to him with a raised eyebrow. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he says, thinking nothing of it as he shrugs it back over his shoulders. When he sees you’re still looking at him like that, he adds, “You were getting goosebumps. Would you have rather I let you freeze to death?”

Is he making a joke? You wonder, with the corners of his lips tugging upward. You shake your head, saying nothing else.

No wonder you slept so soundly.

+++

Upon arriving at the local police station, you’re all met with the usual: desperate officers who want you to snap your fingers and find the unsub ASAP.

And, they always look pretty displeased when you admit that you need time.

You swear sometimes people think the BAU is made up of sorcerers who can see the future and not regular humans who are just trained to recognize and predict behaviors.

Regardless, they’re happy you’re here.

“I was shocked myself when I made the connection,” Sheriff Ansley says, nodding to the pictures of the other seven victims, with Nathan and Jonathan at the end. “Those others were so spaced out, we just… Oh, it sounds bad, but when you’ve got other problems coming across your desk, they can all blur together.”

“We understand,” you say, trying to be the comforting one here, even though you’re feeling more and more like time doesn’t exist and that you’ve entered a third dimension.

A few hours of sleep and jet lag can really do a person in. Especially with the added stressor of Hotch standing next to you.

“Morgan, L/N, I need you to come to the crime scene with me,” Hotch says, and your eyes widen the moment your name slips from his mouth. Is he trying to mess with you? You figured after covering you up on the jet, he’d make a conscious effort to be as far away from you today as possible. Just because Morgan is also coming along doesn’t mean much. Profilers aren’t dense.

“Prentiss and I will go talk to the victim’s family,” Rossi says, nodding to Emily.

Reid says nothing, too engrossed by the pictures and details tacked up on the board. Though, after a moment, he says, “I need a map of the town. Maybe the region. Yeah...the region.”

A little confused, Sheriff Ansely replies, “We’ll get that for you.”

JJ notices the confusion and says, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

With everyone focused, you pile into a vehicle with Hotch and Morgan up front (you purposefully sit in the back) to head to the crime scene. Sheriff Ansley leads in her car, and about two seconds in, you wish you would’ve thought to ride with her.

“You know I have to ask,” Morgan begins, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looks over at Hotch. “What did you get up to last night? Get lucky?”

Hotch looks ready to backhand his fellow agent. “No.”

Morgan keeps going. “Come on, Hotch, it’s about time you get some.”

“For now, I’ll stick to the case.”

Morgan huffs, giving in, which you think is for the better. But when Morgan turns his head to look out the window, Hotch catches your eyes in the rearview mirror.

You sink as far down as you can in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

+++

You have no clue what you were expecting when you pictured the outside of Jonathan King’s house, but it wasn’t this.

A few police cars are already here, their men having already gone in to look around, but not touch anything. A few cars look tiny next to the monster that is the mansion you’re looking at.

“I thought this was a small town,” you mutter, closing the car door.

“Jonathan’s daddy was the owner of the only car dealership in town,” Sheriff Ansley explains. “They were big money.”

“I can tell,” you shake your head. “Definitely don’t have houses like this where I’m from.”

The sheriff chuckles. “Yeah. Before they built it, this was a wide open field. Tiny house. Space for all kinds of animals. Had a red barn out there,” she points off to where a gigantic pool complete with a rock waterfall is.

You hum. “A lot changes for the worse sometimes when money comes in.”

She looks at you then, almost like she respects you a little more now. Which isn’t unusual. The sheriffs in small towns don’t exactly like having to call the FBI in for help. Some do it rather begrudgingly. It’s more often than not that you find yourself being the bridge between big city and small town.

“Any signs of forced entry?” Hotch asks the first officer he sees and they shake their head.

“Nothing. But this damn mansion is so big…” He trails away, looking around at it all.

“I understand,” Hotch sighs. “If you find anything, let us know.”

“Hotch,” you speak up, nearly tapping his shoulder, but you quickly pull your hand back. “If this unsub is a woman, then it’s likely there won’t be any forced entry.”

The sheriff nods. “She has a point.”

“How?” Morgan asks, eyebrows furrowed over his sunglasses.

“Seriously?” You deadpan. “Do you want me to demonstrate?”

He catches on, and drawls, “Go right ahead,” prompting you to shove his shoulder.

“Focus,” Hotch scolds. “I hear you. He probably let her in.”

“Did Jonathan have a reputation of being a player?” Morgan asks. “Take a lot of girls out on dates? Get serious with a lot of them but never marriage-serious?”

Sheriff Ansley nearly snorts. “Oh, yeah. He was the town’s bachelor. New woman every week. Swore every single one was The One.”

You nod slowly. “He must’ve picked up the wrong one, then.”

“Evidently so,” she replies quietly, leading the three of you into the house.

Hotch opts for looking around the house with the sheriff while you and Morgan go to Jonathan’s bedroom.

And he’s still lying there. Wonderful.

You nearly gag, but stop yourself. You’re never going to get used to this shit. At least there isn’t blood literally drenching the walls like that other case.

Moving on.

“Looks like it’s the exact same MO,” Morgan comments, idly checking the body for anything the officers might’ve missed.

You dig around on Jonathan’s dresser, drawers, nightstand, everywhere.

“This guy was seriously rich,” you mutter, picking up a few really expensive watches. Upon opening one drawer, you literally find a wad of cash. At least two thousand dollars, stuffed in between pairs of socks. “The unsub didn’t take this?” You hold up the cash to Morgan.

“She must not’ve spent time here,” he concludes. “Doesn’t look like she took any trophies either.”

“I can’t imagine why,” you say, then crack a smile. “So you’re on my side then, huh?”

He turns his head, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“It’s a woman.”

Morgan chuckles. “Yeah, kiddo. I’m on your side. This has woman all over it.”

“Kiddo,” you groan, tossing the cash back in the drawer. “Any clothes from the unsub lying around? I’m guessing she’s smarter than that.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing,” Morgan says, going into the bathroom. “The window in here is locked tight.”

“I really doubt she forced her way in,” you say. “He probably took her out on a date, brought her inside willingly, and didn’t realize until it was too late that he should not have messed with her.” You pause. “Does this place have security cameras? It looks expensive enough to have them. We should get Garcia to get the footage.”

You’re too busy rambling to see that Morgan has walked back into the room, only this time he’s eyeing you carefully.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Listen, I know these guys were…” He gestures rather than saying it.

“Rapists?” You say tiredly, placing your hands on your hips. No need to be afraid of saying the word around you. You’ve heard it plenty and said it yourself more times than you want to. “What about it?”

“I just wanted to say I know how good it can feel to see someone like that taken down,” Morgan says slowly. “And then you feel guilty for feeling good.”

You set your jaw, hating he’s right. You’ve yet to admit it to yourself, though. Isn’t it wrong? On multiple levels? You’re supposed to catch the bad guys, not relate to them so much that you understand why they’re doing this.

“And I know it can also bring up some bad memories, but, I’m here for you,” he says, keeping his eyes on yours. “I mean that.”

“Thanks, Derek,” you whisper. “It does...kinda feel good, but...I know it’s the wrong way to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Make a difference,” you shrug. “If I killed Trevor, I’d be taking the short route. That’s why I’m here. To make a bigger difference.”

He smiles then, gently. “And you’re doin’ it. Trust me.”

You let yourself smile, too. “Thanks. Now let’s get back to work before boss man comes in here telling us to focus,” you mimic Hotch’s voice and tone at the end, making yourself laugh as you turn back around.

And that’s when you have the absolute shit scared out of you because Hotch is standing there, frowning at you. Oh, he totally heard that.

“Sorry, sir,” you murmur, knowing you should apologize while you’re ahead.

Thankfully, to save yourself from embarrassment, Morgan’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it out and puts it on speaker.

“Talk to me, babygirl.”

“All of our other victims? Yeah, they were accused of rape, too. Four of them were acquitted or blatantly dismissed, three of them with such short sentences it probably felt like a vacation.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds about right.”

Hotch eyes you, but talks to Garcia. “Get us a list of anyone in this region that fits those same criteria.”

“Already done, and it is heading to JJ as we speak.”

Morgan shakes his head at how good she is. “Oh, and check and see if you can get the footage from Jonathan’s security cameras at his house. Y/N thinks he should have some.”

“She’s correct, I just found them,” Garcia says, no doubt through a smile. “I’ll send the footage over and start looking.”

“We should get back to the station and go over those names, see if we can narrow it down at all,” Hotch says. “Hopefully Garcia can get us something from that video.”

+++

Garcia gathers one thing from the video, but it’s not anything to do with facial recognition.

For now, it’s obvious this woman is a strong suspect because she’s the only one seen entering and leaving the house (she walked out right through the front door with her head down) in the window of time that Jonathan was killed. But...

“There’s not a clear shot at all,” Garcia says. “Because they’re… How do I put this? His lips are basically attacking her face and it’s a miracle they made it inside instead of just going at it against the door.”

Morgan snorts out a laugh, Reid (who is working on connecting the nine victims further) goes impossibly red, and Hotch shakes his head.

“Well, we’ve got a physical description now,” Rossi says, trying to see the bright side before Hotch loses it, you’re sure.

“Yeah, but it’s just a young brunette in a dress and heels,” Emily argues. “That’s nowhere near narrow enough.”

“Brown hair is actually the second most common hair color,” Reid supplies. “The most common is black, but they’re usually lumped together in studies. A recent one found that 84% of the world’s population has dark hair. But, of course, women are more likely to color their hair than men—”

“We got it, kid,” Morgan says gently, tapping Reid’s shoulder to get him to slow down.

“So,” you chuckle, “she has dark hair, which are the two most common hair colors.” Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a thought occurs to you. “Wait, can I see the video again?”

Garcia plays it again.

“Pause there,” you point to the woman’s hands. “See how she reaches for his wrist?”

“Where are you going with this?” Morgan asks.

It’s then that it occurs to you just where you’re going with this, and you try to hide your embarrassment.

“You can play it again.” After a few seconds, you get Garcia to pause again. “See? She tries to pin his wrists. She’s dominating. She’s the one in control there. See how his back is against the door, too? He didn’t start that way, she turned them around to get the upper hand.”

“So she’s confident,” Emily ponders.

“In sexual situations, at least,” you add. “Some women who are outwardly shy, but like to dominate in bed. It can be different for everyone.”

“So you’re saying we’re looking for a super quiet, shy woman?”

“Not necessarily. Given that she has had enough confidence to kill these nine men without anyone noticing, I’d be willing to bet she’s pretty confident now. It could be a newfound confidence, or she honestly could have always been this way. A lot of Dominatrixes are pretty confident outside of the bedroom, too. Maybe not in the same way, but they are. Just comes with the territory.”

“A territory you seem to know a lot about,” Morgan teases, poking your shoulder.

You scoff. “You wish.”

But your eyes find Hotch’s and you feel another rush go through you, all the way to your toes. You burn every single time you’re underneath his gaze. Averting your eyes quickly back to the screen, you try to shift in your seat in the least noticeable way.

It’s not like he doesn’t already know. If he seriously doesn’t know or at least have some suspicion, then you might suggest he get a new profession.

Redirecting the attention back to the case, Hotch turns to Sheriff Ansley and says, “We’re ready to give a preliminary profile.”

The team stands to head out to the main area. You and Hotch are the last two left, which you’re sure he did deliberately.

“You should take the lead,” he says, and you swear, your heart falls out of your ass.

“What?” You’ve never taken the lead on a profile in your life. Why would he just spring this on you right now? On this case, of all cases? Seriously?

He doesn’t change his mind. “I trust you to get all of the details right. And we’ll jump in when needed, but I want you to take the lead.”

You’re shaking your head. “Hotch, I haven’t—”

“It’s an order,” he says, voice firm. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes what?”

Bastard. He did it again. “Yes sir.”

And your jaw nearly ends up on the floor when he smirks, a quiet, “Good girl,” falling from his lips.

Damn him. Now you’re supposed to give the profile? How bad would it be to let Emily take over so you can jump Hotch in the nearest supply closet?

You never find out how bad it would be because Hotch walks out and thanks the officers for being there, and introduces you, giving you zero time to recover.

“Thank you so much for your patience,” you say first. “The unsub we’re looking for is, in fact, a woman, confirmed by some security footage that was recovered from Jonathan King’s home. She’s a brunette, average height, attractive, and she’s confident. She’s killed nine times and hasn’t been caught yet, so she’s likely to be gaining confidence.”

An officer raises his hand, so you nod to him. “No offense...but your description fits practically every girl in this town -- I guess, besides the killing part.”

“That’s what we figured,” you admit. “Unfortunately, this kind of unsub is the hardest to catch. They don’t stand out at all, they blend right in. It’s partly why they go so long without being caught.”

“But they’re not impossible to catch,” Rossi adds, helping you out with the annoyed officers. “This unsub has already killed twice in a week, which could be a sign that she’s beginning to devolve. When they’re in this state, they are easier to catch because they tend to get reckless and forget things, change patterns, which is what we need.”

“So we need to keep a tight lid on this for now,” JJ says. “The media isn’t going to cover this at all tonight because we need our unsub to believe she’s still getting away with it.”

Another officer pipes up. “If the news isn’t gonna report this, how can we keep people safe?”

It’s a valid question. It’s one that you always get when you decide to not have media coverage.

“Keep an eye out. And don’t take any women home,” Morgan offers.

But that doesn’t seem good enough, because the same officer says, “All due respect, sir, but asking a man not to do that is like asking him not to breathe.”

The amount of laughter and you got that right’s that you hear from the other male officers makes your stomach twist. Morgan’s small laugh makes you want to smack him.

“Well, try to refrain for a while,” you state plainly, bringing the focus back around. “If you can help it.”

Another officer says, “I don’t know if I can…” and clicks his tongue mockingly.

“Well, this unsub targets rapists,” you say loudly, placing emphasis on the word. “So if you aren’t a rapist, consider yourself safe and sound.”

That causes an uncomfortable silence to settle over the room, but you could care less. It should make them uncomfortable. It’s unfair that it’s something women have to just live with. It’s bullshit.

Emily and JJ share a look with you, the only kind women can understand. Makes you want a drink. And it’s not even late afternoon yet.

Rossi helps draw things to a close while Hotch practically stares you down. Not subtle at all. You feel it, and for that reason, you don’t look at him. But he’s hard to ignore.

Especially when he walks over and says, “I need to have a word with you,” and walks past you, giving you no choice but to follow.

Well, you could choose not to follow, but you’re not so sure you want to take your chances there. Not that the thrill of the idea doesn’t get you all excited, but now is not the time or place.

So, with your heart racing and your annoyance showing clearly on your face, you follow your boss to an office at the end of the hall. He’s waiting for you, already inside, and he doesn’t look happy.

What’s new?

He shuts the door behind you, his arms crossing over his chest again.

After a few moments of silence, you raise your eyebrows. “What?”

“Don’t be a brat,” he says sternly, causing your stomach to twist for different reason. “And don’t say what. You know what.”

You shake your head slowly. “I don’t, actually. That’s why I asked.”

He looks ready to absolutely devour you in the worst way possible, yet he doesn’t move. “I understand that after the case in your hometown—”

“God, why does everyone keep bringing that up?” You’re two seconds away from throwing your hands in the air like a child, but you stop yourself after the look he gives you.

“Because it just happened three weeks ago,” he replies, voice even. “And because it took a toll on you. That’s not something to be ashamed of, it’s just a fact.”

“You’ve never been up my ass about cases like this, not until you found out.”

“My knowing has not changed anything,” he says, and you think he might mean it. “And last I checked, this is your first case with a female unsub attacking rapists.”

You could punch him. You really want to punch him. “What’s your point?”

“I need to know that you can be objective,” he says. “I know you relate to our unsub. I know how easy it was for you to put yourself in her shoes. You did it almost immediately. I bet you knew it was a female unsub within the first few seconds of the debriefing.”

He’s right. Dammit. “And?”

“I need you to be on our side of this case.”

“I am!”

“Are you?” He counters. “If you knew who this unsub was, would you turn her in?”

“Are you suggesting—”

“Hypothetically.”

“Yes! For God’s sake, yes, I would turn her in.”

“Are you being honest with me?”

“What is wrong with you today?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you have something else to say you might as well say it while we’re alone.”

He doesn’t move. Or say a single word.

So much for that.

“Look,” you uncross your arms, tired of fighting already. It’s exhausting on any normal day, but pair it with jet lag and it being between you and the man you obviously care for, and it’s a million times more exhausting. “Yes, I get where this unsub is coming from. Honestly, if it was legal and if there was a market for a job like what she’s doing, I probably would’ve gone into it instead of the FBI. But there isn’t. Because killing people is illegal. So I decided to go to the FBI to make a bigger difference— a real difference. Yes, I relate to the unsub. I get why she’s doing what she’s doing. But just because I get it doesn’t make it right.”

“Good,” he nods. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I shouldn’t have even had to say it.”

The room falls silent.

Hotch sees it then, that look in your eyes. During the profile, it was all determination and confidence. When you entered the office, it was bratty and defiant. 

Now, it’s hurt.

That’s all he sees. And frankly, that’s all you’re feeling.

Since he doesn’t say anything else, you take it upon yourself to say, “Excuse me,” and join the team in the conference room with only one question on your mind.

Does he not trust me at all?

Next chapter

[loverdrew]

Just A Little Longer | s.r

(not my gif)

Synopsis: A day out on the field doesn’t go as planned, and Y/N is thrown into am ambulance to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital before anyone can help. 

A Grey’s Anatomy x Criminal Minds crossover.

Warnings: none (?)

There was a ringing in the air louder than the one you hear everyday. I felt my breathing hinder. My eyes can only open so wide, enough to see the light, but once by my side, could see only a dark substance quickly oozing out of my body. As I came to, I could tell it was getting harder and harder to breathe, a sharp pain with every inhale and exhale. Upon instinct, I checked my fingers for mobility, feeling that they could move slightly. At least this means I am not paralyzed in my upper body. There was no other noise for a few more minutes, just a slight rustling of trees and the dirt road beneath me. I don’t even remember the initial shot being taken, whether it was from me or him. All I remember is instantly falling to the floor once I arrived on the scene. I just laid in my own blood, the realization that no one may be coming for me.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!” I could faintly hear from what felt like a mile away. My brain perked at the voice, definitively Morgan, but my body would not react. I tried with every might to move my limbs once again but alas, nothing. It was if my brain was screaming and sending pulses to my muscles but it just refused to move. I started to feel hands all over me, lifting me and placing me on what I could imagine was a gurney, as it moved. My sense of hearing coming in full force, beginning to hear people talking and shuffling. Hotch and Morgan were asking where I was being transported to and Emily and JJ consoling someone else who I could hear was practically sobbing. 

“They’re going to take care of her, c’mon let’s just go follow them now!” Emily yelled to everyone. But that distressed someone fought back.

“No! She’s not even moving! They’re intubating her! Emily she’s dying!” 

Spencer....? 

“Reid, you want to help her? Get out of here and go to the hospital.” Hotch firmly said, I could even tell he probably put his hands on Reid, as the sound of prominent footsteps were halted. And the next thing I heard was doors closing, and the sirens blaring.

Once we had arrived at the hospital, I heard a woman’s voice that sounded very strong, like she was in charge.

“What do we got?” She asked.

“GW to the left ribcage, she’s lost a lot of blood, almost 2 pints. We’ve been intubating her since we got to the scene but Bailey, it doesn’t look too good. Possible head contusion when she hit the floor as well.” The EMT stated.

“Alright I’ll page Shepard and Hunt immediately. Out of the way everybody! FBI agent coming through!” And my gurney started moving even faster, winding down a short hallway into a room where I could hear many doctors coming to look at my wounds. I felt absolutely helpless, not being able to communicate what hurts for me. What if they miss something? What if they can’t help me in time? The EMT said I lost a lot of blood, what if it’s too much to come back from?

“Hang 2 units of O neg now!” A man with a deep voice yelled out. I could feel big, callus hands turning me on my back, and the next thing I knew a needle was being shoved in my arm and a warm sensation filling my arm. 

“Owen she needs to go up to CT now or she’s not going to make it.” A woman with a softer voice spoke next to the man.

“Amelia she needs this wound patched first or she’ll bleed out and then she won’t even have a chance in CT.” He raised his voice at her, kind of like how Hotch can be sometimes.

“Let me see, I can patch quickly if everyone gives me space. Looks like the bullet left through the back as well.” This time it was another man with a softer voice than the first, and instantly felt his delicate hands holding onto my ribs, feeling a metal substance touching my skin. By my analysis, he’s most likely a plastics surgeon. Only a man in plastics has such delicate touch.

“Well hurry Jackson she’s got about 10 minutes before that brain contusion completely debilitates her and she’ll be in a coma.”

“Yea I got it.” He said nonchalant.

The sounds of beeping and shuffling were quickly interrupted by deep screams, of which belonged to the lanky pretty boy. My heart rate instantly got faster the second his voice entered the room.

“Sir, sir who are you?” The plastics guy asked urgently.

“I-I’m her, her uh- I’m just a friend, please let me be next to her.” He pleaded, rasp in his voice. I can tell he had been crying the whole ride over.

“Okay, sir you’re gonna have to wait with everybody else, she’s in a lot of distress and she’s lost a lot of blood. We’re doing everything we can for her.” Almost on cue, my heart monitor started spazzing. The loud beeping indicating I’m going into cardiac failure. 

“She’s in V-fib, get the defibrillator now!” The man with the lower voice yelled. I felt the clothing on my body being ripped open, a few buttons popping and flying off. The patches were on and in a few seconds, I felt the shock and I could feel it vibrate every vessel inside me. They cleared a second a time, my heart rate returning to normal.

“Okay Jackson you’re gonna have to finish her later she needs a head scan now.” The women voiced, and immediately I could feel the gurney being whisked and into an elevator, going up to the CT room.

Being in the big machine and hearing the slight “ZZZ” sound felt like the first time of peace since my brain fully woke up. For a few hours now I was being poked and prodded, not even getting a chance to hear my own thoughts. This was the only time I got to really savor whatever life I had left, to really hear and feel the people I love around me, and to prepare for what could happen. It felt inevitable to try and escape death, it was a part of my job. And the one regret I’d have is not being the real me with the person I loved most in this world. That tall, pretty, incredible genius was the love of my life for the past 3 years I’ve been with the BAU, and he was everything and more I could’ve ever dreamed of and better. I could physically feel my heart aching at the way his voice cracked yelling for me. I wished nothing more than to look him straight in the eye and hold his hands, telling him I’ll be okay. The way he stuttered when he said friend, so unsure. We had kissed just a few days ago, after a long day of work he came by my hotel room and finally expressed his feelings after so long. The fireworks we shared were something out of a book. The way his hands fit around my face, holding me so close and so softly as if I were glass and he was afraid to break it. We hadn’t talked about it since, but we figured we had more time. But now I realize time is never guaranteed. 

Within 30 minutes I was in a regular room, the plastics man working on sowing back up my wounds. “You, Ms.Y/N are one of the luckiest gunshot victims I’ve seen; no severe tears. Which means this just needs a quick stitch and you’ll be all set.” He said softly to me, I could feel a smile on his face as he spoke.

I heard another person walk into the room, footsteps almost so quiet. 

“H-How, how is she Dr.?” He was shaking.

“The CT showed some swelling but no internal bleeding. We’re going to keep her here overnight but I’m sorry, I don’t know if and when she’ll wake up. That’s all up to her.” The women sadly spoke, unsure of even her own diagnosis.

I heard Spencer start to cry again, a loud puff coming from deep in his chest.

“Dr. Reid, could you please sit with me.” The two of them stepped to sit in the 2 seats next to my bed.

“I know what it feels like to be in a field of study where, you know everything there is to know. And I also know what it feels like to be completely out of control in that field, when you know what to do, but you can’t even do it.” She sighed. “I am one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, I know almost everything...but yet I had a brother who died of a brain injury. I could’ve been there to help him but I couldn’t do a damn thing. I know what this feels like.” Reid started crying harder, his cries muffled by his own hands. He was trying so hard not to let the sounds leak from the room, but it did and it made my bones stand still.

“I had a mentor who was in a coma, and even though I’m in plastics”- (told y’all) -”there was still nothing I could do for him. We just had to wait. He was one of my greatest friends, one of the best people you’d ever meet, so loved. The love of his life died in front of his eyes and I think most of us knew he’d be going next, to be with her. Life was too painful without her. Do you love this girl right here?” Spencers respond came almost immediately.

“More than anybody or anything.”

“Then wait, just a little longer. If she loves you like you love her she’s going to fight to wake up and be alive.” Both of the doctors walked out, leaving me and my lover boy.

His veiny hands grabbed onto mine, rubbing softly at my knuckles.

“I’m gonna do what he said, just wait a little longer. But please Y/N, if you can hear me, come back to me.” He cried into my hand, the tears coating it.

As if the Gods granted it themselves, I moved my eyelids open. Very slowly, and it hurt to do so, but they opened. Spencer sensed movement, and his head instantly came up holding on tighter to my hand. A weak smile placed on my face as my tired eyes loving locked with his.

“Waiting for me?” 

[zodiyack]

Detective Smarts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of abuse

Words: 1,317

Summary: The crew is having a hard time and Spencer offers to call in some back up. Who’d’ve known she was what the B.A.U. needed- or that she was dating the brainy doctor?

Note: I’m sorry if this sucks big time, I couldn’t think of a good case. Let’s just say that I’m never using anything original for a case the team solves ever again lmao

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

They walked around, inspecting the scene. “It could’ve been anything. Homicide, self-defense, ectara ectara. We don’t have nearly enough to go by. No- actually, we have practically nothing to go by!”

“Either way," Garcia snorted into the headset, “it was a crime.”

“Should I call in Miss L/n?” Spencer quirked a brow, raising his phone to gesture at what he’d asked. Morgan looked up from his ‘station’ with a teasing grin, poking fun at the thought, well- fact, of Spencer having a girl’s number.

“L/n? As in Y/n L/n?”

“Yep.”

“Well shit.” Derek chuckled to himself and continued working.

Emily looked between the two with confusion scattered across her face. “Y/n? Who’s tha-” She frowned as the realization hit her. “That Y/n?”

“Well that depends on who you’re referring to when you say ‘that Y/n’.”

Her glare was strong; Spencer could’ve sworn he felt a drop of sweat drip from his forehead from the intensity of her harsh gaze. Nevertheless, he allowed a teasing smirk of his own to grace his lips. “You know exactly who I’m referring to, Reid.”

“That I do, but I-...ya know...just saying.” His sentence died down as he averted his eyes from Prentiss’. She simply nodded and went back to work, the complaints returning just as she did. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

It wasn’t Emily’s fault that she didn’t like Y/n...well...okay, so it kind of was. She only disliked the mention of the woman because Spencer was boasting about her like she was some kind of god; he’d been overly excited about how she cracked one of their past cases much faster than they did- to which Emily rolled her eyes and added, “Yeah, she probably looked it up.” and other stories involving Spencer’s fascination with the woman.

“Prentiss, are you one-hundred percent s-”

“Fine.” She rubbed her temples for a moment before returning to searching for more to work with. “Call her. I wanna see what makes this Y/n so great.”

“Is someone jealous or just having a bad day?”

Taking note of her attitude, Derek answered for Emily. “Not the time, mamma, not the time.”

Spencer had excused himself from the room to make his call, returning back to the, ever so unfortunately, tension filled room. His attitude had changed as well, leaving the room kind of bored to reentering with a large amount of excitement.

“So?”

“She’s on her way.”

The wait for when the mystery woman would arrive was...interesting. Derek couldn’t help but notice, and allow himself to also get distracted with his observation, how unusually distracted the determined doctor was, and how he smiled and blushed after a soft snicker would escape his mouth every now and then.

Emily seemed to dread it, but he couldn’t tell. Not with how agitated she’d acted the whole day; at this point, he couldn’t tell whether she was feeling anything aside from anger.

They worked in silence, small talk was there but not permanently, until a knock came from the door of the apartment they were working in. Spencer was the first to hop up, tripping over his own feet as he sped to the door and answered it.

It swung open to reveal a very beautiful woman, who Prentiss and Morgan guessed to be Y/n.

However, it wasn’t her looks that shocked them.

It was what they saw next that did the trick.

The woman, possibly Y/n, lifted her hand to Dr. Reid’s cheek and pulled him in for a loving kiss. He raised his hand to meet hers and made a small noise of appreciation as he smiled into their kiss, not that the other two could see it.

After they pulled away from each other, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly to her, Spencer mirroring her actions and holding her flush against his chest as it heaved with a hearty chuckle. It took them both a moment to remember their very public location.

“Um, hi. I’m-”

“Y/n?” Derek’s brows were still escaping to the top of his forehead, the shock and image from what had just happened never seeming to process in his mind. The woman in front of him nodded, pulling out a pair of latex gloves and putting them on.

“I hear you guys need help?”

“Nope. Just wanted to see if you were as good a help as Reid says you are. So uh...have at it.” Emily stood up and pulled her own gloves off before walking over and leaning against the wall by the door.

“Are you sure it’s oka-”

“By all means, fire-cracker, take a look.” Derek followed Emily’s actions of rising from the ground but stayed planted where he was.

“’Fire-cracker?’”

Garcia laughed loudly, the noise from Derek’s phone startling Y/n slightly, “Just a nickname from, of course, moi.” Her giggle faded quickly as she interrupted it with more to comment, “From what our lovely Dr. Reid says about you, I’m come up with fire-cracker. Let’s just hope we’re both right.”

Y/n nodded slowly and began inspecting, weaving in and out of rooms. The three stayed out of her way, next to or against the wall, as they watched her. Although not much time had gone past, Prentiss smiled a little, feeling as if she would be right about this time, as if she knew Y/n couldn’t do what Spencer claimed she could do.

If only she hadn’t “jinxed” her luck with the thoughts of success; Y/n had cracked it. She had only been in the room for around ten to twenty minutes.

“Alright so, you see these?” She gestured to a couple of splatters of blood on the floor next to the kitchen counter. “And this,” she then walked to the bathroom, which was the first room in the hallway that led out of the kitchen, “and that puddle right there.” Finally, she pointed to the main spot where the blood had been.

She walked to the room next to the bathroom, which was a bedroom. “This room was not the owners, as their room is the next one over-”

“And how do you know?” Prentiss inquired.

“Oh, because all their belongings and photos of them with friends are in the other one, but this one is pretty much empty if you don’t count the bed and bed sheets. The person was likely the unsub’s partner or parent.”

“And how do you know that too?”

“Well, they killed the person due to abuse related terms, which, before you ask me again, I know that because of the belt in the other person’s drawer covered in a tiny splatters of blood. And,” she lifted the comforter, ”there’s smear marks along the bed-sheet. Can you guess what it is?”

“Blood?”

“Bingo, point to Morgan. Yes, it’s blood. So the person was stabbed somewhere around the bathroom, we’ve figured that much, but what about the blood in the kitchen? Great, yes, glad you asked- remember the blood on the belt I mentioned not less than a minute ago? Well the person was hit with the belt so hard they bled, went to sleep and got it on their sheets, and went through that so many times that after being hit again, they just...” she popped her lips, “snapped.”

“Mhm. So wha-”

“Actually, fire-cracker’s right on this one.” Garcia sounded just as shocked as Morgan and Prentiss looked. “Did some research on the owner of the apartment and multiple accusations of abuse have been made against them.”

Y/n held the silence after Garcia’s comment for a bit longer before turning to Spencer with a nervous smile. “So uh- how’d I do?”

“Honestly-” he smiled with pride and adoration, “I think it would’ve taken us quite a while had you not been here.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.” Derek nodded with a chuckle.

And though she hesitated, Prentiss gave in, “You’ve got some good skill, kid. Thanks for the help.”

[thebookreader12345]

Foster Parents

Pairing: Blake Gallo x reader

Summary: Y/N and Blake, who are both firefighters at Firehouse 51, save a little girl from a fire, and later that day, they discover that the girl’s parents didn’t make it, so both of them agree to foster her

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: mentions of death by fire

Word Count: 1,849 Words

“Whoa whoa whoa. What is this?” Mouch asked as he entered the common room, only to find Blake and I taking up the whole couch, including his seat.

“Leave us be, Mouch. We’re tired.” My words were muffled because my face was pressed against Blake’s chest, but I’m assuming Mouch heard me well enough because he didn’t let up.

“Okay, there is one rule in this firehouse, and it’s that the one seat on the couch is mine. You guys have never broken that rule, so why are you doing it now?” Mouch questioned. 

I groaned and sat up, pushing a few stray hairs out of my face. “The reason we’re trying to rest, Mouch, is because there’s a new construction project happening on the same block as our apartment, so on some nights, there’s so much noise that we can hardly sleep.” Just then, the alarm went off throughout the building, and the dispatcher announced that there was a house fire. I groaned again and stood up, stretching my arms and legs before running to the apparatus floor with Blake following close behind me. Everyone put on their gear, and we climbed into the truck ready to go. Stella turned on the engine, flicked on the lights and siren, and then we were off. A few blocks away from the fire, I could see smoke accumulating in the air, which meant this was a big one. As we pulled up to the address, I got to take in the full amount of damage. Bright orange flames were protruding from the windows on the second story, and the once white outside of the house was stained black from being burnt. As soon as we exited the truck, Matt was shouting orders.

“Kidd, you and I will take the top floor, L/N, you and Gallo take the bottom. Mouch, stay here and get the aerial ready just in case we need it,” Matt ordered. Once Blake and I put on our masks and had our gear all situated, we entered the house and started looking around the bottom floor. The first floor was barely touched by the fire, and there was only a bit of smoke that trailed down the stairs filling the rooms. After checking the kitchen, living room, dining room and bathroom and finding no bodies, Blake and I exited the house.

“Captain, the bottom floor is clear,” Blake spoke into his radio. For a few seconds, the radio was silent, but Matt finally said something back.

“Kidd and I have two victims up here. We’re bringing them out now,” Matt replied. About a minute or two later, Stella and Matt exited the house. Matt was carrying a woman in his arms, and Stella was dragging a man behind her. Both looked to be in their early 30s, but because of the severe burns on their bodies, it was hard to tell. As the paramedics went to help them out, a woman approached me.

“Did you guys get the kid out?” the woman asked me.

“I’m sorry?” I question.

“The family that lives here, the Jeffersons, they foster a daughter. She’s about 6 years old,” the woman told me. I scanned the scene, hoping to spot a little girl by the ambulances or near a firefighter, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Blake, there’s a kid in there,” I inform my boyfriend.

“All right. I’ll tell Casey,” Blake said.

“No. I’ll go get her. I’ll be right back,” I exclaim and run into the house, slipping on my mask as I ran up the stairs. I could feel the heat from the flames through my gear, but I pushed that away and continued moving. “Fire department! Call out!” I strained my ears to listen if someone responded, but I didn’t hear anyone. I poked my head through a few doors, and at the end of the hallway, I came across a child’s bedroom. If there was still a little girl in here, she had to be hiding in her room. “Fire department! If anyone is here, please call out.” That’s when I heard a whimper coming from under the bed, so I got down on my knees and peaked to see what was there. In front of me was a little girl with blonde hair, which was partially black from the soot, and she was holding a stuffed rabbit tightly to her chest. I pulled off my mask so that she could see my face, and I knew that wasn’t the best idea considering there was smoke everywhere, but if I was going to get her out of here, then this was the best plan. “Hi. I’m Y/N. Can you tell me your name?”

“Sarah,” the girl responded softly.

“Hey, Sarah. I’m a firefighter,” I tell her. “I need you to climb out from under the bed for me.”

Sarah shook her head and clutched her plushie even tighter. “It’s too scary out there.”

“I know how scared you are right now, but you and I have to get out of here. It’s too dangerous. You’ll be with me the whole time, and I promise I won’t let you get hurt. I just need you to come with me,” I explain. Sarah hesitated for a moment, but soon nodded and crawled out from under the bed. I lifted her into my arms and wrapped my coat around her to keep her face safe from the smoke, and once I grabbed my mask from the floor, I began making my way out of the house. It didn’t take long for us to get out of the house, and as soon as I did, I brought Sarah over to Sylvie and Emily. “Sarah, this is Sylvie and Emily. They’re going to take good care of you.” I set Sarah down and went to go back to my job, but Sarah reached out and grabbed ahold of my hand.

“Can you stay with me? Please,” Sarah begged. Sarah was practically shaking, and the way she was looking at me broke me.

“Of course I’ll stay with you,” I answer. As Sylvie and Brett loaded the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, I turned to my radio. “Captain, I’m heading with the little girl to Med.”

“Copy that. We’ll meet you there later,” Matt responded. I then climbed into the back of the ambulance, and we sped off towards the hospital.

......................................

“Hey. We got here as fast as we could. How’s the little girl doing?” Blake asked and pecked my lips, the rest of Truck 81 right behind him.

“Uh, good. Miraculously, she just had some minor smoke inhalation. Dr. Manning said she would be fine. I haven’t heard about the parents though,” I disclose. At that moment, Dr. Halstead walked into the lobby and made his way over to us. Maybe he had news about the parents.

“Hey, everyone. The parents both had severe 3rd degree burns on more than 50% of their bodies, and major smoke inhalation. I’m sorry, but there was nothing we could do,” Will informed us.

“Wait a minute. You’re saying they’re dead?” I question. Will nodded. “What about Sarah? Where’s she going to go?”

“Well, she’s in the foster system, so we’ve got to call social services down to take her,” Will answered.

I sighed. “Okay. Mind if I sit with her while we wait for them to get here?”

Will shook his head. “Not at all.”

“I’ll come with,” Blake spoke and took ahold of my hand, intertwining our fingers. I smiled at the action, and together, Blake and I walked to the conference room Sarah was waiting in. Her stuffed rabbit was sitting on the table in front of her as she colored on a piece of paper.

“Hey, Sarah. Have you heard about your parents?” I quiz.

She nodded. “I was only with them for a few weeks,” Sarah whispered and traded her blue crayon for a purple one.

“I’m sorry. This is Blake, my boyfriend. We’re just going to sit with you while the hospital calls over some people to help find you a new home,” I tell her.

“Okay,” Sarah said. After about a half an hour, social services arrived to take Sarah. It was hard seeing her go. Even if I had just known her for a little bit, I felt a connection with her. Blake had also seemed to take a liking to her, and while we had been sitting in the conference room, he made her laugh and helped her figure out what to draw next. Just as Sarah and the agent, Mrs. Delores, were about to leave the room, Blake and I shared a look. Blake had lost his family to a fire, and I was no stranger to death. My father had just died last year. We knew what it was like losing parents, and we didn’t want Sarah to end up jumping from home to home.

“Wait!” I call out, stopping Mrs. Delores from exiting the room. “What if we take her.”

“I’m sorry?” Mrs. Delores questioned.

“Blake and I, we could take her. We’ve got stable jobs, and when we’re on shift, my mother could watch Sarah. I know we’re not certified or anything, but Sarah knows and trusts us. If there is any way for this to work, Blake and I would like to foster her,” I state.

Mrs. Delores looked over to Blake. “You’re okay with this?”

“I am,” Blake replied.

“Well, it’ll take about 3-4 months before you can get approved,” Mrs. Delores pointed out.

“I have a friend who can take care of that. Please, Mrs. Delores,” I plead.

“This is unethical, but I see that you really want to take care of Sarah. And we’ll have to schedule a house check sometime this week,” Mrs. Delores added.

“Done,” I say. 

“All right then. You guys can take Sarah home,” Mrs. Delores declared.

One Week Later...

It had been one week since we had started fostering Sarah. Because Matt had been an alderman, he knew people that could speed up the foster parent process for us, so, as of now, Blake and I were official foster parents. Currently, Blake, Sarah and I were all relaxing on the couch watching a movie before bed. I was snuggled up against Blake’s left side, and Sarah was laying on his right, her head resting on his lap. She had been asleep for about 10 minutes and was snoring softly.

“I’m glad we did this,” I tell Blake.

“Me too,” Blake agreed and leaned over to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I reply. “Now, which one of us is going to be the bad guy and wake her up?”

“I guess I will, but if we’re going to make this work, we’ve got to take turns. I will not be forever known as the bad guy,” Blake confessed.

I smiled. “Deal.” I know that Blake and I were pretty young to be parenting a child, but in my mind, we were already amazing at it. Sure, we had a lot to learn, but as long as we work together to make sure Sarah is happy, everything will be all right.

____________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @anotherfan07​

[elivanah-writes]

Gift of the gods

pairing: Paul Lahote x female!pagan!reader

Sum: what if the gods did granted readers wish? 

warnings: a smal bit of smut please skip that if you’re under 18!

masterlist

It was almost twilight when y/n arrived at la push beach with her small backpack, it had been years since the last time that she had been here but it still felt like coming home. She quickly kicked out her shoes so she could feel the earth beneath her bare feet as she walked to what used to be her secret spot. It was a place close to the shoreline that was kept hidden by some bushes and a few trees. If you’d be walking on the beach you’d never see it if someone was sitting there, and that was what she was looking for. She didn’t want people to see what she was about to do, this was something for herself, something she did every time she traveled.

Once she had reached the spot she drops down to her knees in the sand and starts to unpack the five candles and matches that were in the backpack. Colored ribbons decorated four of the candles, she picked up the one with the yellow ribbon and placed it in the east, the one with the red she placed in the south, blue in the west, and green in the north so the four candles formed a circle around her. As she took the matches in her hand she took the time to clear her mind as best as she could so her mind was only in that moment when she started to light each candle. By then the sun was set but it wasn’t completely dark yet, ‘the perfect time’ she thought to herself as she started to cast her protective circle.

“I call the Guardian of the east and the element of air to watch over this sacred circle”

“I call the Guardian of the south and the element of fire to watch over this sacred circle.”

“I call the Guardian of the west and the element of water to watch over this sacred circle.”

“I call the Guardian of the north and the element of earth to watch over this sacred circle.”

With every sentence she spoke she visualized a physical circle forming around her.

Unknown to her there were more than just the element guardians watching her. Hidden behind the treeline 2 wolves were watching the scene unfold curious about what was happening. “she looks familiar” Jared said through the mind link to Paul. “Nah, doesn’t seem familiar to me. Should we report this to Sam? We don’t know what she’s up to.” Paul responded. “I don’t see harm in the girl, but it might be a good idea to keep an eye on her as long as she’s on that beach.” 

So the two kept watching the girl in silence.

Y/n took a deep breath before lighting the last plain white candle and placed it in front of her and started to focus on opening her mind as she spoke.

“God and Goddess, grant me the power of water to accept with ease and grace what I cannot change. grant me the power of fire for the energy of courage to change the things I can. Grant me the power of air for the ability to know the difference, and grant me the power earth for the strength to continue my path.”

After a moment of meditation with her eyes closed, she could feel how her mind eased with the peace she needed. 

Suddenly a branch snapped behind her, making her eyes shot open. When she looked over her shoulder in the direction the sound came from she was stunned, two large wolves were looking straight at her. One was dark brown and as soon as the animal had noticed her looking back at them he stepped back disappearing behind the treeline. The other was dark silver like and stared deeply back at her without moving, it’s brown eyes looking so human that she started to doubt if what she was seeing was real. It got so intense that she had to look away at some point but the moment she looked back the wolf was gone. y/n shrugged and blew out the candle in front of her, it was time to go. She thanked the guardians and sent them back on their way before blowing out the rest of the candles and packed everything back into her backpack.

--------------- 18+ SMUT

“Oh baby, that’s it” his deep voice moaned, his warm soft hands guided the movement of her hips while she was on top of him. She could feel him pulsing inside of her, she could feel every vein that ran through his hard cock with every move of her hips. She had never felt this good, this complete and safe. His moans only added up to her arousal and made her in turn also moan out loud every time her clit made contact with his pubic bone. “Yes my love let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.” he practically growled before he lifted her off his lap and turned them so y/n was laying on her back with the brown eyed man on top of her looking at her lovingly. 

“I love you, y/n”

Next thing she knew he was thrusting back inside of her while he kissed her passionately.

Her lover held himself up with one hand next to her head while as other hand found it’s place on her clit, rubbing the little bundle of nerves in sync with the movements of his own hips.

Y/n was a moaning mess at the mercy of her lover that brought her closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. But just before she could fall over the edge and have the most earth-shattering orgasm she was sure she would have a voice called out to her.

---------- end smut

“Wake up sleepyhead! The sunlight is here to greet the day!”

Y/n’s eyes shot open while she groaned. It was just a dream, there was no hot brown eyed man that was making her feel good.

“What do you want Kim, it’s way too early” y/n groaned as she saw her usual shy friend standing in the door opening. Y/n wasn’t a morning person especially after a dream like that.

“Oh, you grumpy cat” Kim chuckled, “Come on, we need to leave soon or there won’t be much breakfast left at Emily’s. And the guys are dying to meet you.”

That’s right, she almost forgot. When a week ago Y/n arrived at her friends’ place Kim was so happy to see her that they had spent most of that time together, catching up on everything that had happened since the last time Y/n was here.

Y/n had spent most of her youth here in La Push, growing up as a foster kid in Kim’s family until another family adopted her at the age of 15. Kim had always been more like a sister to her so even after she had left with her adoptive family she had kept in touch with Kim and her parents.

Now after a week full of quality time and their favorite things done it was time to meet Kim’s boyfriend and his friends in real life. She had already heard a lot about Jared, even before the two got together. Kim was so in love with him that sometimes y/n had to butt in if she wanted to say something. But Y/n was happy that her friend had found someone that treated her right. 

“Okay give me a minute to get ready,” Y/n said as she literally rolled out of bed and got up.

Fifteen minutes later y/n was dressed and ready to go. Kim had said that Emily’s place wasn’t that far so they decided to walk the short distance.

“Y/n, I was wondering. So every time you travel or do something important you do that ritual to ask the gods for strength and balance right?” Kim suddenly started knowing about her pagan believes.

“Yeah, why?”

“What if the gods grant your wish? But what if they grant it in the form of a person, like a soulmate?”

Y/n didn’t expect that to be her question because it wasn’t something she had thought of before.

“I don’t know Kim, for me, it’s more something like inner strength. You know. It’s something I want to for myself but hey I’m never turning down a gift from the gods. Especially if that gift is in the form of a hot guy made just for me.” she laughed.

They could hear the laughs of multiple people coming from the little but beautiful house that stood in the middle of an open field surrounded by trees. But the moment the girls started to walk closer to the house the laughing stopped, the sliding door opened and before she knew it Kim was lifted off her feet and spun around in the arms of who she recognized as Kim’s boyfriend Jared.

“Hey, you must be Y/n, Kim has told us a lot about you.” Jared smiled at her once he had placed Kim back onto her own feet, but still kept his arm around her waist.

“Yeah I am, it’s nice to finally meet you. Kim hasn’t shut up about you.” she chuckled making Jared and Kim chuckle too.

“Well come on in, breakfast is served” a sweet voice called out from the small porch.

“Wellcome Y/n I’m Emily”

She thanked her for the invitation before following the small group inside where the kitchen table was already filled with food and a bunch of guys sitting around it.

“Hey, guy!” Kim greeted the guys around the table with a smile before pointing at me.

“This is my sister Y/n, Y/n meet Sam, Jacob, Embry, Quil, Leah, Seth.” Every time Kim said a name a hand shot up with a short “hey” or “hello”. They all seemed like the nice and fun people Kim described them as but wasn’t there supposed to be another guy? If she remembered correctly a guy named Paul was missing from the group but she didn’t press that thought, because soon she was lead to a chair at the table and almost everyone started to fill their plates with food. She had just started to fill her plate too when she heard a voice call out from another room in the house.

“Leave some food for me, you animals!” followed by a warm laugh and footsteps coming closer until a large form filled the door opening on her left. He had broad shoulders, short dark hair, and the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. He hadn’t noticed her yet so she took the opportunity to really look at him, those eyes seemed familiar, he seemed familiar. She had seen him before. His whole being, even his voice made her heart jump in her chest. Then he turned his head and looked straight at her, it seemed like his eyes lighted up in that same recognition, his smile got wider than it already was. 

“Hey, you must be Y/n. I’m Paul.” He greeted her before he took a seat on the other side of the table right in front of her. 

Then she knew where she knew him from, Paul was the guy from in her dreams. She quickly averted her eyes, afraid he’d notice that she had been staring at him. She quickly looked around her to see if someone had noticed but everyone was having their own conversation, that was until her eyes met those of a smirking Kim. Of course, she had noticed, when Kim winked at her their conversation from earlier sprung in her mind. What if the gods did had granted her wish? Because she was almost sure she had even saw those same eyes a week ago when she was in the middle of her prayer. Could it be that Paul was her gift from the gods, her soulmate?

tags: 

@its-la-push​   @ghostmistwalker​ @bisexualcrazybeans​

[fatiguing-thoughts]

The Kinds of Love - Embry Call x Reader

Request: “Hey! Could I get an Embry x reader where she is Paul’s younger sister and also a wolf and maybe Paul is very protective and maybe she gets injured in the eclipse battle and everyone freaks and Paul realised how much embry cares for her?....a bit of angst and fluff”

A/N: just to let you know, i have probably written the eclipse fight scene about fifty times so i’ll just be recreating an entirely different fight scene for the sake of my sanity. i love you thanks for understanding

Things were finally beginning to get easier since I had finally phased. I was finally allowed to know everything going on with my brother, Paul,  and our friends. 

Though, it grew more complicated when Embry and I imprinted on one another. Paul was absolutely livid. His overprotectiveness was overbearing, I had grown tired of him being annoyed at Embry and I, especially for something out of our control. 

And let’s face the facts here, it’s not like this came out of nowhere. We both had liked each other for years, just couldn’t do anything about it in fear of Embry’s legs-- Paul would’ve kicked his ass. 

“You’re breaking bro code, you can’t date my sister!” He’d yell every single time Embry would ask if he would be able to ask me out. 

I loved Paul with all my heart, but his lack of faith in Embry and constant monitoring me was too much to bear. But then he phased, keeping me in the dark. Though, he still wouldn’t let Embry do anything. Embry didn’t come around much anymore, as he was Paul’s friend first. 

But then Embry phased, and things got a bit weird. 

It wasn’t until I phased that I understood it all-- but then it was the first time Embry and I had seen each other and-- you guessed it: boom. imprinted on one another. 

Now, Paul couldn’t say shit about anything. Though, he was always too cautious and feared that Embry still wouldn’t treat me right. The constant brooding and displeasure about the situation seeped through every one of Paul’s pores. 

I loved him with my entire heart, but it grew difficult to not fling him across the room sometimes. Growing up, it was Paul and I against the world due to our family situation. We had each other’s backs, and he trusted nobody with my safety, nor my feelings. 

But tonight, something completely unexpected happened. 

Sitting at Sam and Emily’s was going perfectly fine, until we picked up on that signature scent of death. There were vampires nearby, it couldn’t be just one-- the sickly sweet scent was far too potent. 

Paul was still getting used to me being around, far too afraid of me actually going out with them to catch a leech or two, despite the fact that I was far more than qualified to handle myself. I was perfectly able to take care of myself. 

“Stay here.” Paul orders me as we all stand up.

“No!” I argue.

“Maybe you should.” Embry looks at me with pleading eyes. 

“Sam. Please?” I ask, looking at him.

“She’s one of us, she’s coming.” Sam says authoritatively, looking between the two men. 

And with that, I sent a smirk Paul’s way as I walked out the door with the rest of the pack. 

We phase, immediately on our way to the source of the leeches. 

We soon found them, a group of at least fifteen. 

”Why are there so many?” Quil’s voice breaks through the mindlink.

“Who cares? Just get rid of them.” Paul scoffs. 

And so we did. I found myself stuck with one on my back as I was tearing another apart. 

Suddenly a second one found it’s way on my back. 

“What the hell are you guys doing? Get one of them off of me!” I yell into the mindlink. 

I begin thrashing around, waiting for someone to come over and help me. I see Embry and Paul both taking off to me first. 

But before I could fling either of the leeches off of me, I notice the Cullens arriving. I look over and see a panicked Alice and Carlisle staring at me. 

But that’s when I felt it. Something in my side had snapped. My ribs broke, I fell to the floor screeching in pain. 

Embry and Paul made it over, finishing off the leeches that were on top of me before they could do any more damage. 

Emmett and Jasper helped the rest of the pack finish off the intruders. 

I sat there, whining in agonizing pain. The rest of the pack phased back, putting their clothes on and freaking out over me. 

“She needs to phase back so I can see what’s wrong.” Carlisle instructs. 

Leah ran over to grab some clothes ditched in the woods, shooing everyone away so she could help me get decent. 

I phased back, but when she was helping me put on the minimal clothing, I couldn’t help but scream out in pain. I watched everyone flinch from the sounds leaving my throat. 

Finally, I felt myself being lifted and being carried back to Sam’s, Carlisle following closely behind. 

As Carlisle examined me and told us what the procedure to fix me would be, I was absolutely terrified. 

“You can squeeze my hand.” Alice offers. 

“Why not one of us?” Paul huffs, interrupting. 

“You won’t want to be in the room.” Carlisle informs him.

“I need to be.” Embry pleads, eyes tearing up.

“It’s really better if you wait outside.” 

“We can support her from outside, Carlisle’s orders. It’ll be too much for the both of you in there.” Sam speaks, ushering Paul and Embry out of the room. 

I begin to hear their loud footfall, them profusely pacing outside. I hear Embry’s sniffles and heart beating right out of his chest. 

“Ready?” Carlisle asks, sympathetic eyes meeting mine.

“Yeah, do your worst.” I smirk, preparing myself for my entire right side to have my bones rebroken. 

Alice’s ice cold hand grabs onto mine, a soft smile on her face. 

I was not prepared for the pain that was coming my way. I screamed louder than I ever had, squeezing Alice’s hand tight enough to crack her marble skin.

“Sorry.” I whispered, writhing in pain.

“Don’t be.” She reassured me.

Another blood-curdling scream left my lips, this was unbearable. 

I knew my brother and boyfriend were outside losing their shit, so I originally intended to try to keep my reactions at a minimum, but it was not feasible.

When Carlisle finished, he set me up with a morphine drip.

Paul and Embry came in, watching me in my dazed state. 

Paul simply looked at me, fear raging in his eyes, a blank expression on his face. 

Embry was at my side, holding my hand in his. Whispering sweet nothings in my ear, wiping the sweat off my forehead. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, baby.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, warm tears falling onto my face. 

The next few days were a bit of a blur, everyone coming in and out of the room to see if I needed anything. 

“Hey kid.” Paul says softly walking in.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, voice groggy.

“Listen, I’m really sorry. For giving you guys such a hard time. I see it now.” 

“Did you hit your head or something?” I giggle.

“No, listen. I’ll only apologize this one time.” He chuckles, sitting next to me on the bed. “I never realized how much he cared. Maybe he does care enough to be with you. Maybe I was wrong.” Paul sighs. 

“I know you were wrong.” I giggle, lightly shoving his shoulder with my good arm, though still slightly wincing in pain.

“Stay still, you’re still not healed according to Dr. Leech.” Paul smirks. 

“Paul, he helped me. Knock it off.” I scold.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess I owe him that after he helped my baby sister out.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, you do.”  _______________________________ Word Count: 1258

[your-eternal-muse]

Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist 

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader 

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.” 

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt. 

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence. 

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around. 

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag. 

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications. 

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes. 

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to. 

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed. 

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places. 

I could feel the eyes on me. 

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything. 

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect. 

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me. 

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it. 

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.”  I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth. 

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want. 

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem. 

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions. 

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip. 

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted. 

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink. 

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air. 

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt. 

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd. 

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding. 

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. 

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass. 

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.” 

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.” 

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd. 

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.” 

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.” 

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood. 

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes. 

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.” 

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed. 

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.” 

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.” 

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away. 

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people. 

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles. 

Though, it’s not my blood. 

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet. 

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.” 

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away. 

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me. 

But she shoved me first. 

It is, legally, self-defense. 

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning. 

It’s tense. 

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why. 

Spencer’s here. 

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him. 

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl. 

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is. 

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place. 

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break. 

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks. 

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed. 

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft. 

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.” 

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking. 

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.” 

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.”  I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue. 

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me. 

He stands. 

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment. 

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck. 

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me. 

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face. 

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door. 

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway. 

“Hey!” 

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files. 

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

    Sent, 9:06 a.m.

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[yvesdot]

I’ve spoken a little about how I feel analysis can brighten anything you like to read, and I’m hoping you’ll indulge me as I prove that with Emily Windsnap (by @lizkessler) and some gender politics. I reread Emily recently, and while I still have an entire series’ worth of material to consider, I found some elements quite interesting through an adult’s more discerning eyes. Keep reading for monsters, gender, and more on the best book of all time.

Those who have read the book (and this is chock-full of spoilers, so I sure hope you have!) will recall that the initial resistance to mer-human marriages is solved by simply speaking to King Neptune and telling him not to be so mean. This is a pretty typical stand-up-and-speak-your-truth children’s fiction ending, but underneath there seems to be quite a bit going on, and perhaps another antagonist altogether.

Any average reader might reasonably wonder, for example, why Emily doesn’t tell her mother that she’s a mermaid—being a mermaid is the coolest thing ever, we think, which is why we are reading the book. We understand her fears that she might be put in a tank by outside observers, and Mandy’s bullying also serves as reasonable cause for alarm, but a girl being a mermaid is the coolest thing in the world. In case you weren’t sure of that, the ending of this book confirms it with one of my favorite scenes of all time, where Emily shows the entire class her mermishness and gets a jaw-drop from Mandy. There’s nothing actually bad about Emily being a mermaid.

Mr. Beeston, on the other hand, reveals his half-mer nature with a fascinating story, which I’ll lay out here in full. For those who don’t recall, this is our half-mer half-human spy for the King.

“The two worlds — they don’t belong together. It doesn’t work.” He leaned forward, his head almost between his knees. “And I should know,” he added, his voice almost a whisper. “You’re not the only one to grow up without a father.” He spoke to the floor. “Mine disappeared the minute I was born, he did. Just like all the others. Fishermen. All very nice having an unusual girlfriend, isn’t it? Taming a beautiful siren. Show off to your friends about that, can’t you?”

 A tear fell from his face onto the deck. He brushed his cheek roughly. “But it’s a bit different when your own son sprouts a tail! Don’t want to know then, do you?”

 “What are you saying?” Mom’s voice was as tight as her face, her hand still gripping the mast. The sea lifted us up and down; the sail still flapped uselessly over the water.

 “You can’t put humans and merfolk together and expect it to work. It doesn’t. All you get is pain.” Finally, Mr. Beeston raised his head to look at us. “I was trying to save you from that. From what I’ve been through myself.”

Let’s put a pin in this analysis and consider whether this book, this entire book, could have been about a merman—that is to say, a young boy finding out he is a merman.

The answer is, obviously, no. The platonic capitalist idea of Boys does not want this book. ‘Boys’ do not dream of becoming mermen. There is not a mutually agreed-upon notion between young men that to be a merman would be the coolest thing in the world. (Unfortunately.)

Why, though? I would argue that it’s for the same reason that Beeston’s father abandons him, and the same reason Beeston immediately “roughly” wipes away the only tear he allows himself to cry—because it’s effeminate. Boys cannot be effeminate.

In some ways, Beeston could be seen as a foil to Jake Windsnap, Emily’s father. Where Beeston sees his perceived effeminacy as a negative, Jake has a more casual attitude to his softness. Compare this scene to Emily’s first look at her father, when she’s accidentally (conveniently) wound up in his cell:

“That was a lucky escape.”

 Who said that? I swung around to see a merman sitting on the edge of a bed made of seaweed. He was leaning over a small table and seemed to be working on something, his sparkly purple tail flickering gently.

 I looked at him, but I didn’t move from the door. He appeared to put the end of a piece of thread in his mouth and then tied a knot in the other end.

 “Got to keep myself busy somehow,” he said somewhat apologetically.

 I slunk around the edges of the bubble-shaped room, still keeping my distance. The thread he was sewing with looked as if it was made of gold, with beads of some kind strung on it in rainbow colors.

 “You’re making a necklace?”

 “Bracelet, actually. Got a problem with that?” The merman looked up for the first time, and I backed away instinctively. Don’t make fun of criminals whose cells you’ve just barged into, I told myself. Never a good idea if you’re planning to get out again in one piece.

 Except he didn’t look like a criminal. Not how I usually imagine a criminal to look, anyway. He didn’t look mean and hard. And he was making jewelry. He had short black hair, kind of wavy, a tiny ring in one ear. A white vest with a blue prison jacket over it. His tail sparkled as much as the bracelet. As I looked at him, he ran his hand through his hair. There was something familiar about the way he did it, although I couldn’t think what.

This is ripe for psychological evaluation (as am I for obsessing over this scene). Jake is making art—specifically, jewelry. He seems both “apologetic” and yet somehow defensive about it—”Got a problem with that?”

His jewelry, in fact, is one reason Emily winds up trusting him, even before she knows he’s her father. Putting aside the stereotyping of criminals in children’s literature, she says he doesn’t look “mean and hard”, and seconds later we have the introduction of an earring (which ear is it in? Kessler doesn’t tell us!) and a sparkly tail. It’s Jake’s very effeminacy that makes him trustworthy, and specifically non-intimidating.

Another fun little line:

I couldn’t take my eyes off the poem. “You...”

“Yeah, I know. Jewelry, poetry. What next, eh?” He made a face.

What IS next? No, seriously, what is he implying? He’s obviously joking about the fact that he has two stereotypically feminine hobbies. So this is a world where misogyny is, at least on some level, alive and well, and that the characters are aware of it. There is an undercurrent in this book of gender politics.

Finally, let’s consider Neptune.  

“It’s the one thing that makes Neptune really angry. Some say it’s because he once married a human and then she left him.”

“Neptune’s married?” I swam up to join her.

“Oh, he’s got loads of wives, and hundreds of children! But this one was special, and he’s never forgiven her — or the rest of the human race!”

Why aren’t humans and mermaids allowed to marry? Not because of a mutually agreed upon hatred pact—because one merman has a grudge. One merman with “loads of wives”, who nonetheless is so angry at a woman for leaving him that he has meddled with the laws for everyone in his kingdom. One might well argue that the monarchy is inherently corrupt, but that’s for another blogger.

You may wonder where I am going with this. Alright, so the characters are aware of misogyny, and the antagonist king is misogynistic, and the book was published in a society whose misogyny shaped its creation… and so what?

Well, I think the problem, the antagonist, the Big Bad of Emily Windsnap is misogyny. Of course, you can’t ‘cure’ misogyny. Bigotry is not defeated with a big climactic scene and a good speech.

Kessler fought against Section 28 in the UK unsuccessfully and was facing an inability to publish her first, openly lesbian, book at this time. I wondered while reading whether Kessler might be aware of, perhaps purposefully including, these undercurrents; my impression based on her past blogs is that she merely, like most of us, winds up writing about what she is thinking and feeling. You cannot write a mermaid book without bumping into gender politics, because mermaids, like all monsters, are gendered—and kudos to Kessler’s brother for calling her on her obvious coming out narrative (though with the body politics, I like to think that Emily might be trans!)

I recall that later in the series Emily gets herself a boyfriend, who is of course a merman—because women tend to find feminine qualities in men quite attractive. It is impossible to sum up “women’s attitudes towards feminine men” in a sentence, of course, so this is merely another area one might look into regarding gender in Emily.

And finally, to bring things back to analysis at large—this is what I’m talking about when I talk about analysis. You don’t have to bring one singular argument, you don’t have to say something is good or bad, you don’t have to assume the author intended anything in particular, and you don’t have to prove that your analysis is ‘right’. (What is a correct analysis?)

I like to think that the purpose of this sort of discussion is merely to bring something to the table. This might make us think about how monsters reflect our society, how gender and sex affect our experiences of the world, how children’s books retain political messages, or how AP Lit led me here. And isn’t it cool to think that I might have noticed something Kessler herself didn’t, or that I might be connecting with something she left for me to find?

I personally enjoy searching deeper for the secrets in my favorite monster media, and a good discussion always makes me happy. I hope you’ll have something to say, too.

[boredandelusive]

05.

♞ TW: Amm-nia, death, this chapter has a case in it not from an episode, but from a generator. It may sound stupid, but it’s effective, isn’t it? Also, there’s a bit of a wet dream, yet Spencer’s awake, so there’s that.

♞

As Kiara woke up from her sleep, she witnessed Spencer frantically rushing around as if looking for something. "Something wrong, baby?" She asked groggily, which made him stop and look at him.

"I can't find my shirt and there's another case," it wouldn't be the best idea for him to go back to work in the same clothes he wore yesterday, however, he didn't have much of a choice. He couldn't risk being late for his job, especially because he was the star agent of the team.

"Then just take some of my smaller clothes from my closet." She admitted groggily, which looked over to her closet with an unsure look. "Spencer, I was skinny once, I still have those clothes, and they should fit you. Just take the clothes and go."

"But I don't have my boxers," that was the other thing he looked for, which she turned over in her bed. Considering she now lied on her stomach, her words would've been muffled.

"That dresser, second drawer on the left." Listening to her words, he moved to get the clothes and noticed all of the clothes almost perfectly fit him. "Before you ask, I keep my old clothes in case I date skinnier people."

"Thanks, I owe you!" He rushed out of her room, and soon, out of the house. Once they had enough time, they could go over last night. Now, however, they had things to do.

♞

As Spencer got to work, which he hoped his colleagues wouldn't notice his clothing, he passed Garcia, who still noticed something off. "Rough night?" She called out, which Spencer stopped in his tracks.

"Something like that. Where are the others?" If Penelope noticed something different, no doubt the others would, too.

"In the conference room. You're not late, but you might want to hurry up." With that, he rushed toward the conference room and sat down. "Did you get any sleep?" Derek was the first to ask, but Spencer didn't understand why.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Because your hair's a mess," at least that sent a wave of relief in his body, which meant they didn't question the woman's clothes on his body. Running his fingers through his hair, he fixed it. Seeing as no one said anything about his clothes, there was a bit of silence before Penelope walked in.

"In Fort Wayne, Indiana, three victims were found scattered in the forest," as she spoke, she clicked the buttons on the remote in her hands. "Each of them had traces of ammonia in their lungs," her voice dropped to barely a whisper. She wasn't the type to enjoy cases, she just liked being in her bat cave.

"It says here that all of the victims died just after sunrise. Maybe it's the unsub's motive," Spencer pointed out before Hotch stood up.

"Regardless, Fort Wayne requested our help. Wheels up in thirty (30)." As everyone else got up and collected the file, there was some sort of tense silence in the room. Trying his best to ignore it, Reid glanced up to see the others glancing at him.

"Is something wrong?"

"You're wearing a blouse," Emily pointed out, which meant his hope went bad.

"Did you have a fun night?" Derek teased and considering his messy hair, all of them assumed he finally got some. "Come on, kid, what was their name?" As he got everything together, hr walked out of the room.

"Kiara," Emily looked at Derek with an open mouth, as if shocked he would admit it.

♞

As the plane was in the air, Spencer kept his head in the case, and knowing Derek, he would've either pestered him about it now or ask about it later. "How many victims are there so far?"

"Five (5) of them. The first two were found three months ago in an abandoned cabin. The police only got word of it from an anonymous tip." Garcia admitted from the video call in her office.

"Alright, when we land, JJ, Prentiss, go to the ME's office, see if there's anything else on the victims the files might've missed. Morgan, Reid, set up at the police station. Rossi, you and I will go to the crime scene."

♞

Once the two were in the car and driving to the station, Derek decided to break the silence. "So, Kiara, huh? Wait, lemme guess: you didn't bring an extra pair of clothes so you had to use hers?"

"Was it that obvious?" He asked, yet he didn't look his friend in the eyes. It wasn't out of embarrassment, but probably out of how much Morgan would taunt him about it. He didn't say anything at first, but he peeled back his collar. "Hey!"

"You need to learn to hide that better, Reid. And fix your hair before we get inside, it still looks like a mess," he teased and messed up his hair intentionally.

"Okay, okay! Leave my hair alone. I was rushed out the door by the case, and I didn't want to be late." He excused, yet Derek wouldn't drop the conversation just yet.

"I guess we have to let the kid out of the coop someday. Fly away little Reid, I'm proud of you," he teased again. This was going to be a long case, and he didn't know if the rest of the team would give him shit about how he lost his virginity.

"You know, I could just be trying something new," Spencer tried excusing his appearance, but he blushed while he did so.

"You definitely tried something new, alright. Even if it weren't for the hickey," Derek tapped his chest with enough force that the scars from her scratches hurt. "That told me enough. Now come on, we gotta get the office set up."

♞

As JJ and Emily made it to the ME's office, Em pushed the door open for both of them to walk inside. "So what do we have?" The blonde woman asked first, which the coroner looked at them both before pulling down the cover.

Because of it, there was irritation around the victim's mouth and nose, most likely from being forced to breathe the gas. "You would think the irritated skin would be the most concerning part, but this was," the coroner then pulled the cover down farther to reveal a series of stab wounds.

"I don't get it, why would the unsub force the victims to breathe the ammonia then stab them?" Getting that piece of information was confusing enough, but it also meant the unsub was disorganized or greedy.

"I don't understand it either, but I can tell you that they're smart. All of the stab wounds were inches from the major arteries." The coroner wasn't the profiler, but there was something about the case that proved there might have been more to this than what meets the eye.

"So they're torturing the victims before killing them?"

"And restraining them, too," the coroner also pulled the blanket away from their wrists and ankles to show the bruising. "The tox screens came back and the only thing pumping through their body was anesthesia. However, the color of her lungs indicates she was gassed repeatedly."

"Okay, thank you." Both women turned to the door as if realizing something. When they got to the hallway, Emily stopped for a moment. Though JJ was a media liaison, it didn't stop the fact she could help on the missions by being a second set of eyes. "What is it?"

"If the unsub has them sit up, and they pump gas into their lungs, but they also stab them..." she trailed off, as if trying to get some sort of idea. For now, she couldn't think of anything because she hadn't been to the crime scene yet. "Let's get back to the station."

♞

As the two women met up with the others, Emily's brain started putting the pieces together, but still needed Reid's nerd expertise with this. "Hey, Reid?" She called out to the boy, though he didn't respond immediately.

His head was buried into the file, yet his mind was elsewhere.

"Be a good boy for me, won't you?" Kiara's voice rang out in his head, and the scene was set. Spencer was on the bed with his dick in a chastity cage while his Mistress hovered over him. His eyes trailed down to her waist, which a nine (9) inch tentacle dildo hung with lube almost dripping off.

"Yes, Mistress," he whined, and considering she wouldn't stroke his dick to help him feel better, he just rolled his hips. He wanted her, but she wouldn't let her baby have her.

"So eager, already? I wonder how your tight little ass would feel around my new strap. Now stay still or I'll leave you here with the belt on," almost immediately, he stopped moving, despite what his brain told him to do.

As she climbed on top of him, she lifted his legs and slid the dild-

"Reid?" Hearing the voice made him look up from the file, which proved his mind was somewhere else. "Do you have any nerdy facts about the case?" Emily needed to know the full parameters, and judging by the growing blush on his face, he thought about something not safe for work.

"Eighty percent (80%) of ammonia is used for either fertilizer in the agricultural community or used as a refrigerant gas. Ammonia gas itself is lighter than air, so it rises, yet when mixed with moisture, turns into a vapor. The vapor turns so heavy that it keeps to the ground, but the unsub's found a way to transport the ammonia gas without it turning into something harmful to the unsub themself." He rambled on, but it also indicated the level of skill the unsub had.

"So we might be dealing with a chemist?" Morgan asked, which Emily pulled out her phone and dialed Garcia.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" She asked into the call, not aware that she was on speaker phone.

"Garcia, you're on speaker. I need you to make a list of all of the chemists within Fort Wayne, Indiana," she placed her phone onto the table, which meant anyone could ask the tech wizard to narrow the search.

"There's over six hundred (600) names. Do you have anything to narrow it down?" Hoping there was more to the search than just the job alone, she looked to another screen as she waited for an answer.

"Look for anyone who might have a history of violence. It might be something as little as peeping to murder." Derek said something next, which caused Penelope to type it into the filter. Though it was a great thing, there were still a lot of names on the list.

"That leaves me with sixty names, sugar. It's majorly concerning how many of them could pick up jobs. Some of them have misdemeanors, others have assault, someone has aggravated battery." Penelope listed off some of the crimes that popped up on the screen.

"That's all for now. Thanks, Garcia," Emily picked up her phone.

"You're welcome, my Mistress," she ended the call before Em had a chance to say something back, so she shook her head. As they turned to the door, an officer rushed in.

"There's been another body," hearing those words, all of them rushed out the door. Considering they only got here a few hours ago, it meant this death was fresh. Taking two cars, one that had Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss while the other had Hotch and Rossi, JJ stayed behind in case she had to deal with the media.

♞

As Kiara worked, her mind wandered to last night. What she wouldn't give to hear him beg for mercy like that again. However, she couldn't keep her mind on it, considering her phone rang. The noise and feeling of the sudden buzz almost made her jump, but she contained herself enough.

Looking at the caller ID, it was Spencer, which made her confused but she answered it anyway. "What is it?"

"How do you undo a downward prayer? Each shibari design has a failsafe wrapped in," this must've been important, which also meant this wasn't time for jokes. Closing her eyes for a moment, she thought to herself.

"On the back, there's over three (3) dozen ties to create the design. The one you're looking for might be tucked in behind one of the strings. If he's an amateur, it'll be tucked between the hands of the person in the rope. If not, then it'll be wrapped around their neck."

"Are you sure?"

"There's only two ways to create a downward prayer and there's always a failsafe. Always." There was a bit of silence before someone picked up the phone again. "Did you save them?"

"Yeah, I did. Thank you." He ended the call, most likely trying to keep his voice to a professional level.

♞

The place I got the ammonia knowledge was from here. 

[bellasweetwriting]

Emergency Contact

spencer reid x f.reader

(not my gif)

masterlist

plot: you were Spencer Reid’s first girlfriend back in Las Vegas when both of you were sixteen. He just finished college and was planning on entering the FBI academy while you didn’t know where to study. After two wonderful years, you break apart: you were leaving to college and he was leaving to DC. You never lost contact, making Spencer leaving you as his emergency contact even if it’s been 10 years

Request: no, it wasn't a request but they are open. please request something

A/N: I'm thinking of doing a part 2 of this so pls reply if you think I should !!

Warnings: young pregnancy, some bad language, hospital, injuries, flirty!spencer

Category: Angst

Word Count: 2,6k

"You should definitely cut your hair, yep, " you said to your long term boyfriend Spencer. It was 1999, Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chilli Peppers was playing on the background of the Las Vegas Bar. You were wearing an outfit with a cheap red plaid outfit you copied from Clueless. "Why do you put so much gel? Aren't you afraid that a bird falls and gets stuck there forever?"

"That's... impossible, " the 18-year-old genius corrected you, as always, making you roll your eyes. "Actually, according to the theory of..." he stopped himself as he saw your bored face. "Right, no science chat today. It's your day."

It wasn't your birthday, it was actually the day the college applications arrived. You had the letters placed in the counter and your smile couldn't be bigger: this was happening.

"So, what are our contestants?" Questioned Spencer Reid. "Harvard, Yale, Princeton, UCLA, University of Nevada, University of Virginia and, University of Washington. First, we will start with your safety schools and then leave for last Yale which is your dream college."

You were sweating as he opened the letters. Accepted, Accepted, Accepted... Rejected from UCLA.

"That's not good, Spencer, " you whispered, tensing your legs, afraid of the remaining three envelopes on the counter. "What if I don't get in?"

"You are going to get in, " he tried to comfort you as he held the Princeton envelope on his hand.

"Six percent of the thirty thousand applicants get into Yale." He remained silent. "C'mon... correct me! Tell me that my numbers are wrong!"

"You said no science talk." You hit him on the shoulder. "Ouch! Y/N! I don't know what to tell you! The only way of knowing is actually opening the letter. So... here I go."

You got accepted from Princeton, Rejected from Harvard... and accepted from Yale.

You jumped into Spencer's arms as you screamed your future college's name out loud on repeat. Yale! Yale! Yale! Yale!

The way you were jumping while he was trying to sit down made Spencer smile. Seeing you so excited, realizing... how in love he was with you.

That was the memory that came to Spencer's mind when he was shot in the shoulder. As he falls to the ground, your smile as you held the Yale acceptance letter, showing it off to every passing customer in the bar, was the image that shocked his brain. He remembered every detail of his life, yet still, that was the moment he decided to hold on.

Being in Las Vegas for a serial killer case was already messing with Spencer's head, and mostly he didn't expect being shot in the shoulder as he walked out of the bar where he and the team were hanging out just a second before.

As he was moved into the ambulance, he didn't focus on Morgan's words, or in the frustrating sound of the machine letting the paramedics know he still had a heartbeat.

He was thinking of your smile.

••••••

He hadn't talked to you in a while. Damn, he didn't even think of you when he stepped in Las Vegas. He was going to solve the case, say hi to his mom, and then go home.

Spencer sometimes called you, but you were busy most of the time. He would write you letters, rarely you responded. But he knew you still cared, you were occupied, he was too, however, he liked to talk to you. He used your letters as a ranting method, as his therapy. And you will read them after a long day at work while your six-year-old daughter told you about her day.

You would send him postcards once in a while, or photos of your daughter and you, wishing him luck in his work and filling that pink paper you bought with empty promises of a soon visit. You were busy, he was busy...

But as soon as you received that call... you stopped being busy.

••••••

"Wake up, Pretty Boy, " said Morgan while Reid slowly opened his eyes, staring at the white ceiling of the Sunrise Hospital and Medical Care of Las Vegas, Nevada. He immediately felt an inch of pain in his right shoulder, making him stay still. "Don't move, Reid."

"What happened?" He asked in a whisper, tiredly.

"The unsub shot you after you left the bar, a woman called 911 from your phone. When the ambulance showed we realized what was happening and left the bar, " explained Emily, confusing Spencer.

"I thought we caught the unsub."

"We were wrong."

"But he fit the profile, " murmured the doctor. "Shoot... where is my phone?"

"Here, " said JJ. "The woman also called your emergency contact."

The team was shocked to see how Reid's face suddenly expressed absolute terror. His pulse on the monitor started accelerating, and he started sweating, alerting the BAU.

"Hey, kid, what's wrong?" Asked Rossi while Emily gave Spencer water.

"Did she pick up?" Questioned the doctor. "Did my emergency contact pick up?"

"Yeah, she did. I think she's in her way, she wasn't in town, " answered Hotch. "Reid... care to explain."

But that wasn't necessary since everyone in the room listened to a yell a few feet away.

"Doctor Spencer Reid... No, I'm not looking for a doctor I'm looking for a patient who is a doctor! Okay, listen up, missy, tell me where is his room or I swear to God I'm going to stick those 'Get well soon' stickers up your butt..."

That triggered Spencer's flight or fight. He immediately sat down straight, trying not to move his shoulder a lot since it still hurt like hell, but he tried to dissimulate so you wouldn't worry.

"Okay, here's the deal. Follow my lead, all of you. Don't question anything I say and please, don't look straight into her eyes... she could kill you. And I'm not kidding."

"Who is this wo—?"

But JJ couldn't finish her question when you broke into the room holding a six-year-old girl in one arm and your purse on the other.

"Y/N, hey, " Spencer greeted you with a tiny smile. You look at him before looking around the room.

"You look like a responsible adult, " you said as you looked at Hotch. He stared at you with a confused face. "Hold her for me, " you demanded as you passed him the little girl to his arms. He reacted quickly as he held the kid, letting you walk towards Spencer.

You sat down on the hospital bed and hugged him. He startled for a second before hugging you back, slowly rubbing your back with his palm.

You smelled the same as you did ten years ago, how was that possible? He remembered your smell so clearly, just as if he had smelled it the day before.

"I was so scared, I thought you were going to die."

"In fact, a shot to the shoulder has a very high chance of causing arterial blood to spill into the lung, which would be fatal in most instances." You quickly broke apart, staring at him with a worried face as he realized his mistake. "But I'm fine! It's not my case! It doesn't even hurt that bad... I'm part of the 80%."

"That's good... that makes me not feel bad for yelling at you!" You stood up quickly as you stared at Spencer, starting to pass the preoccupied stage into the upset phase. "What were you thinking? Aren't you supposed to use an anti bullet vest? Aren't you supposed to be careful around this stuff, Spencer!? You used to trip while walking normally when you were sixteen years old, what on Earth were you thinking when you joined the academy? It's been what? Seven years since you are in the FBI? Aren't you supposed to know that you can get shot?"

    You were clearly upset. He knew. The moment his team told him that you were coming, he knew this would be your reaction.

    And he had an idea of how to contain you.

    "Did you cut your hair?" He asked, taking you and the rest of the team by surprise.

    "What?"

    "It used to be longer."

    "We haven't seen in each other in three years so I suppose it could be shorter... which that reminds me, shouldn't you change your emergency contact?"

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Spencer, it was cute when I was in high school for you to put me as your emergency contact, but you live in Virginia now and I live in San Francisco, why would you still have my number? To give me a heart attack or something?"

     "I'm an FBI agent, it's the first time someone calls my emergency contact in years. Look, Y/N, I'm okay. Can I say hi to Rory now?"

     You exhaled, turning around to grab Rory from Hotch's arms, sitting her on Spencer's bed, making it easy for him to hug her.

     "Hi Spencer, " said the girl and he smiled. "Did you know I learned how to read?"

     "That's awesome, pumpkin! I have so many books you would like—"

     "Don't give my six years old girl a physics book. Wait until she's nine at least, " Spencer smiled, hugging Rory. You took advantage of the moment to turn around and present yourself to the awaiting BAU team, who was just admiring the scene. "Hey, I'm Y/N, " you greeted them, "I'm an old friend."

     "She's my ex-girlfriend, " said the doctor, looking to his colleagues before looking at Rory again. "Hey, I gave you this shirt!"

     "She wears it every day, " you let him know, which made him smile. "Ok, so, uhm... I think you are in good hands here. Rory and I are dying for some soda since we arrived, so." You lifted Rory from Spencer's arms and smiled at everyone. "It was a pleasure to meet you all. We'll be back in a while. C'mon, honey."

     Both of you left the room, leaving the team with Spencer.

     A moment of silence passed until Morgan had the guts to ask.

     "Reid, is that girl yours?" Spencer opened his eyes widely before shaking his head.

     "No, no she's not. She got pregnant in college, some random guy that I don't even know the name of. Y/N and I broke up like at least ten years ago."

     "She is your first love, " said JJ and he nodded. "That's so cute."

     "I have to agree with her, though, " interrupted Hotch. "Why do you still have her as your emergency contact? That's irresponsible. You should put one of us or a family member at least."

     "I don't have family members, and she's been my emergency contact forever. The times that I've been harmed nobody has called her because I'm always with you. Besides, I want her to still be part of my life. I write every week, and I try to call, but when I do I always end up talking to Rory instead of her. She moved on from me so quickly, and I don't know, having her as the primordial number on my phone... It's silly."

     "No, it's not, Reid, " contradicted Emily as she sat down next to him. "It looks like she really loves you."

     "Absolutely."

     "No doubt."

     "Didn't you hear the way she screamed?"

     Reid smirked at his friends.

     "You know... my mom loves her." Spencer chuckled. "She always asks for her, and when I show her a picture of Y/N she gets all excited. She is one of those people that everyone loves for absolutely no explanation. Even now, after ten years, I can't find the reason why, from every guy who was drooling over her in high school, she picked me. I don't get it. She is way out of my league."

    "It's cute that you think that way, " said Emily.

    "I spent our entire relationship trying to figure out why she was with me when I didn't deserve a girl like her. She's amazing, you guys are going to love her."

•••••

    "Hey, Reid, " whispered Derek to him. Spencer slowly woke up, turning around to look at Derek, "she's still here."

     "What?" murmured the doctor before looking at the entrance of the bedroom, directing his eyes toward the couch in the waiting room, where you were peacefully napping with an edition of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand in your hand. "Why is she still here? She should be on her way to San Francisco."

     "There's only one way of finding, come on."

     Morgan helped Spencer to get on the wheelchair and he pushed him towards the waiting room as he carried his IV. Derek parked him in front of you and slowly walked away.

     "Hey... Y/N, wake up, " he said slowly, touching your shoulder. "Y/N."

     You woke up unhurriedly, looking at him before smiling a little.

     "Hey you, " you whispered, "you look great."

     "Thanks, I was going for a James Dean hairstyle." You laughed. "Why are you still here? Don't you have work tomorrow?"

     "I asked for the day. I sent Rory with my mom to San Francisco three hours ago. I just... didn't want to leave you alone." He smirked. "How are you feeling?"

     "Good, actually." You exhaled in relief. "Hey, you better go to your hotel and change."

     "No, I'm good. I have my book and a toothbrush. If a hurricane happens, I would be the most prepared."

     "You have to know that you wouldn't, " he said, containing his urge to correct you. "I still can't believe you came."

     "Of course I came, what are you talking about?"

     "Well, you haven't talked recently to me, you don't reply to my letters like you used to, and, I don't know, you seem different."

     "Different in a good way?"

     "Just different." You nodded. "Thanks for being here. I know I don't show you that I'm grateful sometimes, but I am. I'm grateful that you are in my life."

"And I'm grateful that you are in mine. I have a box filled with your letters. Rory likes to read them sometimes. Since she learned how to read she's unstoppable, " you laughed and he joined you. "You really scared me."

"Sorry for that, Y/N." You softly shook your head, telling him not to worry about it. "On my way to the hospital, I kept replaying a memory of us in my head. The day you got into Yale." You nodded slowly, remembering. "Why did you break up with me?"

You chuckled softly, but he remained with a serious face, as it was indeed a serious question. A question that has been bothering him for ten years.

"Because I was leaving for college and you for the academy. It wasn't going to work, Spencer. We both belonged in different worlds, and it didn't seem like the right idea at the time."

"Forty percent of couples break apart dew of distance, " he murmured, "but sixty percent make it."

"I'm not a person of chances, Spencer, " you remembered him and he nodded.

"But we are older now, " he quickly said. "I shave more than one time a month nowadays." You contained your laugh.

"I have a daughter now, Spencer, don't know if you recall."

"Rory loves me, " he responded with a smile. "She's not a problem."

You looked at him for a few seconds in silence before exhaling deeply, grabbing his hand.

"Let's get you to your room, " you murmured as you stood up and pushed the chair towards the room.

How could you tell him that you wanted to be with him too?

[ahopelessromantic]

31% ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x neutral! Reader (if I missed something please tell me!)

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: Suggestive content, Spencer and reader really have the hots for each other

The nature of your friendship with Reid has been flirtatious from the start. So flirtatious that the team thinks it’s all a joke... right? (A/N: Please don’t ask me what this is. I wrote this in one sitting while suffering from PMS, I don’t even know anymore.)

“Look at that walk.” Morgan chuckled to Emily for everyone but especially you to hear. You rolled your eyes, yet couldn’t help the smug grin on your face. Like girls in high school ready to hear the newest gossip your two colleagues and closest friends leaned over your desk. “You, sweetie, got laid.” You let out a happy sigh and leaned back in your chair. Last time you had been this relaxed had been… god, you couldn’t even remember it.

“What’s their name?” Emily grinned, stealing a sip of coffee from your mug. “And do they have a brother? Sister? Cousin?” You lifted your brow. “A respectable, decent human being like me doesn’t kiss and tell. But it’s a he. And he’s all mine.” Both Morgan and Emily lifted their eyebrows in surprise. “(Y/N)? Getting territorial? We love to see it.” Morgan teased. You squinted at him. “You know what? I loved flaunting my post-coital bliss in front of you, but quite frankly I’m starting to feel attacked now, so I’ll go hang out with Garcia.” Emily feigned a pout. “Come on! At least give us some details!” You just winked at her after getting up from your seat and disappeared down the hallway. On the way to Penelope’s office, you didn’t miss Spencer’s searing hot look on you, a hint of the same smug smile on his lips that had been on yours when you had entered the BAU this morning.

“(Y/N), this is bad. We’re breaking at least three policies just by being here together right now. Also, relationships between colleagues are rarely a good idea.” You chuckled and pressed another kiss to Spencer’s neck. “Then why does it feel so good, Spence? And, actually, workplace hookups are way more common thank you think. About 31% of them even end up in marriage.” “Are you using my own weapons against me right now? That’s hot.” He murmured and pulled you further into his lap. You looked down into his eyes, your gaze dropping to his lips momentarily before wandering back up again. There was just something about him that made you feel like you were on fire, as if an electric current ran between the two of you. You bit your lip and played with his tie. “You have to know how I feel whenever you’re spitting your facts at least once, too.” Your eyes met again, and then your lips were on his.

Spencer and you had gotten along like a house on fire from the day you had joined the BAU. Somehow the two of you had clicked right into place after just a short period of Spencer warming up to you. Before anyone could even tell what was happening you had become the team’s new dynamic duo. Your sharp wit matched his, and what he was too shy to say you spat right out. And that everlasting tension between you had been there from the beginning, too. It had almost cost you your sanity, the way the air in a room would change as soon as Spencer was in it, the way his mere presence made you want to either pounce on him or rip your lashes out. For a while, it had been enough to just bury that attraction where everyone could see it, in plain sight beneath heaps and heaps of slightly inappropriate flirting. Spencer would blurt out how your new heels gave you just the right height to make out with him, you would blurt out how you would like to see him in his glasses and nothing else. Everyone had taken your remarks as jokes, and you had always laughed with them. But there had never been anything funny about the shocks of electricity jolting through your fingers whenever your hands accidentally met or about the warmth seeping through you whenever you slept propped up against each other on the jet. All that tension had unloaded one day after an unusually hard case. Spencer and you had been taken hostage by an Unsub on a psychotic break, and it had only been due to luck and good timing that you had made it out alive. After debriefing, you had found yourself in an abandoned hallway of whatever precinct you had been in, and then your eyes had met. The look in them had been the same. Slightly frazzled, pupils still widened from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You had both been so high on the incredibleness of still being alive that suddenly, you had decided to just fucking do what your body had been telling you to do for so long already. “I think I’m going to kiss you now.” You had breathed out, barely audible. Spencer had leaned against the wall behind him and lifted his chin as if he had been daring you to do it. “Okay.” He had whispered back. And then your lips had met in what you could swear had been the best kiss of your life. Your hands had tangled themselves in his hair as if they had been supposed to be there all along, and his hands had fit in the groove of your waist as if they had been made for it. Maybe you had both been made for each other.

“It looks like the unsub is citing the karma sutra.” JJ’s gaze wandered over the book excerpts up on the case board. “A sexual sadist maybe?” Spencer shook his head almost excitedly, a familiar gleam in his eyes which he got whenever a case was particularly interesting to him. “See, that’s the interesting part. 80% of the karma sutra is actually just love-related philosophy and how to sustain desire. There is no sexual component to his murders, so I think he might either be trying to throw us off or create some sort of bizarre scavenger hunt.” While chewing on one of the fries Emily had brought you all for dinner you let your eyes wander over the pictures of sex positions and quotations on the board, then to the copy of the book lying right in front of Spencer on the table. “Well, it’s definitely an interesting choice to make for a book. Spence, you’ll keep it memorised for later, right?” You spoke, mostly out of habit. Spencer winked at you in response and Morgan choked on his burger. “There’s people eating here!” He spluttered out, pointing at Hotch, who looked like he wanted to die, and Rossi, who was watching the scene unfold with an amused smile on his face. All he was missing was a bucket of popcorn to match the level of detachment he was displaying. Prentiss just laughed and turned her attention to you. “(Y/N), does your boyfriend know about your workplace flirting buddy?” She knew exactly what she was doing, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You felt your face fall for the split of a second but immediately regained your composure. “Nice try, honey. I’m still not telling you about him. Also, for what it’s worth, he’s not the jealous type. So he doesn’t mind.” You deliberately avoided Spencer’s gaze, praying to whichever deities out there that you weren’t blushing.

Later that evening, back in your apartment, you could tell that something was on Spencer’s mind. He had taken some paperwork home that, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t have taken him longer than an hour. But it had been two and a half hours already, and the subconscious mumbling he only did when he was extremely anxious set you off. “Spence, baby, are you okay?” You had been his roommate for long enough to know that he needed someone to be there in moments like these. The two of you sharing an apartment had been a decision for practicality’s sake more than anything. You had slept over at each other’s apartments half of the time before that anyway, and this way, you were even able to save up some more to hopefully soon buy the house of your dreams. The team probably didn’t even know about the two of you living together, and if they knew, they had probably just added it to the list of weird things Spencer and you did. Spencer hadn’t even heard, and it took you placing your hand on his shoulder for him to return to reality. He looked up at you with a conflicted look, his eyes horribly sad. “Are you alright?” You asked again, sitting down next to him. He nodded and closed the case file he had been working on with a sigh. “I’m okay. I just keep on thinking about what Prentiss said.” You frowned. Emily tended to say a lot of things in just one day. “Back in the conference room. The…” He trailed off to take a deep breath. “The boyfriend thing.” You were still looking at him in confusion. “Am I?” “What?” You asked stupidly. Apparently, your brain had suffered a sudden case of non-functionality. You could feel his frustration get even worse. “Am I your boyfriend, (Y/N)?”, Spencer finally explained for you to catch on. Suddenly, a laugh escaped your lips. “Well, I mean I hope so.” Now it was he who looked like his mind was failing him. “I mean, to be honest, I hadn’t really properly thought about it, but I definitely bragged about my hot, intelligent FBI boyfriend to my friends from high school. So, I guess it would be really nice if you actually were. I mean, I think I haven’t slept in my own bed in weeks.” A smile had spread across Spencer’s face, a light pink hue dusting his cheeks. “I uh… I described you as my partner in the letters to my mom, too. I didn’t know how else to describe it to her. Because I … I guess I was hoping that this wasn’t just us sleeping together from the start. I trust you, (Y/N), more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. And I like having you by my side.” Not able to stop yourself, you closed the distance between the two of you to press your lips to his. Keeping your relationship with Spencer undefined for any longer than that would have been a huge waste of potential.

Somehow, you had always expected that Spencer would one day expose the two of you by taking it too far with your flirting. He hadn’t been all too experienced with dating, sex and everything beyond that before you, that was something he had told you himself once after a few glasses of your favourite red wine. But what you really hadn’t expected was running into Emily in an IKEA, of all places. Ever since once and for all defining your relationship you had moved into his bedroom for good, which left room for creativity in your old room. The two of you had been walking around the furniture store hand in hand, Spencer with a potted plant already under his arm, when you’d suddenly heard Emily calling out your name. If it hadn’t been for Spencer’s hand firmly in yours you would have booked it down the aisle of Malm closets, but this way all you could do was turn around with a deliberately composed expression. “Hi, Em.” You smiled as if you hadn’t just run into your colleague slash best friend while holding the hand of your also colleague, slash boyfriend. Prentiss looked like she was trying to make sense of the situation, her eyes fleeting back and forth between you and Spencer. “Is this something you do now? Hold hands and buy plants together?” You had to suppress a laugh and almost pitied her for her confusion. Spencer was forcing himself not to smile as well, swaying your still intertwined hands back and forth. “It’s not a big deal Emily, we just need some things for our apartment.” Her eyes looked just about ready to pop out of her skull at that. “Your apartment?! (Y/N), what about your boyfriend- oh.” Her eyes widened even more if that was even possible. “OH!” She almost yelled, and now you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips anymore. “No one will ever believe you.” You grinned, pressed a kiss to her cheek and pulled Spencer back to your shopping cart with you.

The next day, Emily sat at her desk with her head in her hands when Spencer and you entered the bullpen. She looked positively traumatised and now you were all the more glad that you had bought her a breakfast muffin on the way to work. “Hey, Em.” You greeted her hesitantly, you tone causing Morgan to look up from his screen. He always immediately knew when something was off. “So, Spencer, huh?” She mumbled instead of a greeting, mustering the two of you up and down. It wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to constantly be glued to each other’s sides, but now she was probably starting to see that from a whole new perspective. You could hear Morgan get up and trip over his chair in his haste to get to Emily’s desk, but your whole focus was on her at that moment. You smiled. “Yup. Don’t ask me how, or why, but I’m sure about him. He’s also just really fucking attractive.” At that, she laughed, and Spencer pouted playfully. “You only like me for my body, (Y/N).” You rolled your eyes and nudged him with your elbow. “I’m trying to make a point here, honey. But yeah, it’s Spence, and I’m happy it’s him.” “You know, I feel like I should probably be more surprised by this, but it’s not really much of a change from the way you behaved already. Kinda saw it coming.”, Morgan finally spoke up, and you couldn’t be more grateful to him for being so cool about the whole situation. “Aren’t you guys worried about the pressure of all of this? You know, workplace romances and everything?” Emily mused. Somehow, she had already switched back into concerned friend mode. But much to your surprise it was Spencer who spoke up and pulled you closer to his side with an arm around your waist. “Someone once told me that workplace romances are actually really common and that 31% of them even end in marriage.” You felt the biggest smile grow on your face and turned to look him in the eyes. “I don’t really know anything, about any of this. But I trust (Y/N), and I trust what we have. I’m just hoping that maybe we’ll be up in those 31%.” You couldn’t help it. You just had to press a kiss to his cheek for that. “I’m hoping for that, too.” You mumbled. Despite Morgan’s and Emily’s theatrical gagging at your public display of affection, you couldn’t help but feel like this was a significant moment. You were really doing this. And boy, were you serious about it.

[goonandfightme]

Numbers Pt.1

After a particularly horrifying case involving a serial killer starving his victims, Spencer Reid of the BAU relapses into old habits as past trauma resurfaces. The team slowly catches on as Reid falls further into his eating disorder and addictions but will they be able to help him before it's too late?

Pt.1 Concentrate

Trigger Warnings - EDs, drug use and addiction, child abuse.

Spencer Reid knew he has a problem at age 10. He had a routine, and once Spencer Reid had a routine it became part of him. He would wake up at 6 am, ensure his mother was asleep, pick his outfit for the day. His messenger bag would be packed with textbooks, notes and pens. He would brush his teeth, shower, then get dressed He went through this mental checklist, these motions were fluid, practised and precise. The clock would read 7:30 am, he would leave the house to grab the bus to go to school. High school. He was two years short of graduation, his mother had insisted on it, he was smart, he was special, he could be anything he wanted, he could have anything he wanted.

He would leave his lunch behind.

He would get picked on, laughed at, kicked, bruised all too easily, then go home. If his mother was lucid, he would have a proper meal, if not, whatever he could reach from the cupboards. He was malnourished, the corner of his lips cracked from b-vitamin deficiency, the rims of his eyes white from anaemia, his hair messy and breaking. People only knew him as his shadow of himself, no concerns were raised.

He would complete his homework, lay on his bed, his heart would palpitate, his world would spin. No one noticed, his grades hadn’t slipped, he never participated in sports. No one noticed.

His alarm sounded; it was 6 am. He started again; his lungs screamed, his heart pounded, and his headache came back, he always had a headache, but Spencer Reid had a routine, and he would stick to it. He went to check on his mother.

--Present Day--

It was six-thirty and Reid was getting ready for his day at work, removing his pyjamas while he waited for the shower to heat. The top came over his head easily, it was baggy, it was more than a couple of months old, it didn’t fit him anymore. He looked forward towards the full body mirror, tossing the clothes into the hamper, his face was thin, as it always had been, even when he was a healthy weight he’d always struggled with his figure. Brushing his hair out of his face he looked closer running his fingers over his features, saw how his eyes were more hallow, he pulled the lower lid down the reveal the ghostly white colour it had become, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced and painful to press against, his jaw slightly sharper in contrast to how he felt. His hand dipped and traced over his ribs, he could count them all, name them if he wanted, then his hand lowered to his wrist. His thumb and middle finger enclosing the joint, measuring how far he could raise it, whether it would come past his elbow, would it fit past his bicep. It stopped just after his elbow and he squeezed as if trying to rip his flesh after, from the bone, the white marks lingered across the already pale limb.

“White marks that last after applying pressure to the skin suggest poor blood circulation, common among those with anorexia nervosa.” There was no one there to hear him but when he was alone, he liked to talk aloud it helped him think through things slower, it helped keep him calm. “It also causes the exterminates to become cold and discoloured,” he looked down towards his feet. He removed his trousers, the shower warm and producing a numbing white noise as Reid continued his routine. Checking how each bone moved under his skin, thin, grey and translucent. He had so much more to lose.

“Grey skin indicates poor blood oxygenation, which can be caused by anaemia, a low level of iron within the blood that prevents red blood cells from delivering oxygen effectively. A common symptom of malnutrition.” He breathed out slowly to calm himself as he turned on his heel to enter the shower, it was much warmer than his apartment, the floor cold and unwelcoming, he was always cold anyway. He made quick work of scrubbing down his body, no longer wanting to look at it, feel it. He spent longer on his hair, it no longer sat right, it would always fly away as it became more brittle, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the longer-haired look but it suited him, made his face slimmer, so he kept it.

Reid turned the tap off and jumped out as quickly as his legs would let him, he swiped his towel off of the rack and placed it on his face, holding the weight in his hands as his head stopped swirling, then used it to finish drying himself off. He walked back into his bedroom where his clothes laid neatly. He placed on his underwear socks and trousers, a cream shirt and striped tie, a thick soft orange jumper to go with it, then blazer, then belt, he tightened and placed it through the newest punched hole. It was a nice belt he didn’t want to get rid of it. Checking that the apartment was in order and that everything had been done, everything he needed was in his bag, he picked up his keys from the dish and left after briefly sorting his hair in the hallway mirror.

It was another day at the BAU for Reid. Walking over to the staff space he started the kettle and placed his bag down, he retrieved his favourite mug and placed three teaspoons of coffee in. Once the water was boiled he filled his mug and let the thick scent waft through the air, he grabbed the sugar and poured, originally he would have counted the spoons of sugar but decided that cutting out the middle man would save time, he was slightly late as it was. “Want some coffee with that sugar?”

“Had a long night, need something to keep me functioning” Reid retorted as he turned to face Morgan who stood behind him placing his lunch in the fridge. “Nice one pretty boy, what was she like?” Morgan smiled. “Not that kind of long night,” he picked up his bag and walked towards his desk before Morgan had a chance to reply. He slouched down into his seat while taking another sip of his coffee and reached down to grab a file from the bottom of his desk drawer and after rummaging for a while he found it. A wave of nausea hit and Reid lent forward over the desk to stop his stomach from protesting, his body wasn’t used to this level of starvation. He’d lowered his intake from 700 to 500 yesterday, it was taking time to adjust.

The BAU hadn’t had a case for over two days so the team was catching up on all paperwork that needed doing, anything that had been shoved in draws to be forgotten was to be finished and filed.

He opened the file and glanced over the first page, thumbing over the papers to spread them out. Emily Moore, aged 25, died of malnutrition after a serial killer had starved her to death. Reid placed his right hand beneath his chin and ran his thumb over his mouth as he traced a finger over the outline of her body and closed his eyes. That was four months, two days and three hours ago that case started, and it was four months, two days and three hours since Reid had relapsed. He could see them still so vividly, all of them hung up like puppets, so skinny and frail. He still couldn’t bring himself to finish the file.

“Reid?” Hotchner asked, Spencer, opened his eyes to see the team filling into the meeting room as Hotch stared at him from across the room. Reid quickly snapped the file shut and followed behind everyone else, Hotchner joining the line afterwards. Spencer enclosed his hand around his wrist to help his heart stop beating as fast. It calmed him down, he didn’t even realise he had done it. Hotch was absorbed in his paperwork.

Reid sat down next to Morgan in his unassigned assigned seat as Gideon began the brief and Reid for one of the first times since he had met Gideon, didn’t listen to him.

I shouldn’t have had that much sugar, how much did I have, right, the coffee cup was about 5cm in diameter so that means the area of the cup was five multiplied by pi, then to find the volume of sugar the cup raised about 1cm.

“The victim was found face down lying in a pool of her own blood.” Gideon turned to the board displaying pictures of the woman.

The volume of sugar would be 15.7cm squared, which equates to about 25 grams of sugar which is 80 calories.

“Nothing was left at the crime scene, but her hands were bound with what appears to have been some sort of rope shown by the burn marks.”

“Could have suggested the killer was physically weak, needed to restrain her to get his way” Elle interjected. “Judging that the unsub took the rope it probably means he also brought it, premediated, definitely an organised killer,” Morgan added.

Why didn’t I just measure it out it would have made this so much easier, I’ll round it up to 100 just in case.

“Local police teams have already sectioned off the scene,” Hotch added, “alright but why call us, nothing about this case seems extraordinary, seems like a run of the mill homicidal rapist,” Elle questioned while looking to Gideon. “Well,” Gideon started.

If I can get home by 8 pm I can burn off that coffee, wait no if I run home then I can leave later but still burn it so if I have the 500, well now I can have 420 no 400, then I can-

“Right let’s go, the jet leaves in half an hour.”

With that the team all stood up abruptly, creating a whirlwind around Reid that made him snap out of his thoughts, his head and eyes darted around the room trying to figure out what was happening. He jumped out of his seat to follow everyone out but was stopped at the door.

“You alright Reid?”

Spencer spun back round to face Gideon who was looking at him, seeming to expect an answer. “Sorry, what was that?” Gideon's face became stern as his eyebrow slightly lifted along with his chin, he was not just looking at him, he was analysing. “I just wanted to know if you were alright?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine” Reid frantically looked across the room trying not to meet the other man’s gaze, “I’m just going to go grab my stuff” he stated while starting to walk backwards out of the room, pointing behind him with his thumb. “Uh yeah, see you on the plane,” he turned almost bumping into JJ “sorry JJ I uh didn’t see you sorry,” and with that, he took off to go grab his bag.

JJ turned to Gideon with a questioning look. “Keep an eye on him” was all he said before also going to grab his bag. Gideon wasn’t a man to say anything unless he was sure unless it was important, but he was worried. His intuition was screaming at him that something was wrong, but Reid would be at least three steps ahead if he didn’t want anyone to know. Damn profilers.

They had all swarmed into the jet and had taken their seats. Reid lay in the long seat reading a book, but not at his normally inhuman speed, it was slower, only just noticeably. Hotch sat next to Gideon reading all the information they had on the case thus far again, making sure nothing was missed. Gideon watched. They were sat at the other end of the plane with Reid’s back to them, the other team members preoccupied with their activities.

“Something’s wrong with Reid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look at him.”

Hotch looked up from his papers and looked towards Reid, Gideons line of sight hadn’t wavered since he sat down. Hotch looked back from Reid to the man next to him. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s anxious, jumpy, overreactive,” Gideon still looked over to the boy and Hotch joined back, “I asked him this morning after the brief, he didn’t turn his back to me once until he was out of the room.”

“He was being defensive, wouldn’t turn his back on the perceived threat,” Hotchner added, “he knew the answer but couldn’t tell you, he looks at you as a father figure you know, he doesn't want to disappoint you”

Gideon paused, “he probably does, he doesn’t know much about his father,” he said shaking his head, they sat and observed in silence.

“He’s not turning pages as quickly as he normally does,”

“He’s not turning pages as quickly as he normally does,” Gideon repeated, “how’s his paperwork?” he finely looked away from the younger man. “Still exemplary, maybe a little less than normal but handed in on time, it hasn’t suffered any more than anyone else’s while we’ve been busy.”

Gideon nodded “somethings eating away at him, I just don’t know what.” There was a pause.

"There was one file I never got back."

[vampiregirl1797]

Being in Love & Working at the BAU

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist.

Word Count: 2,817

Warnings: none that I can think of.

Summary: Y/N realised she was in love with the boy genius of the BAU about six months ago, and she’s been working hard at keeping it under wraps since. Problem? She works with profilers.

When JJ began dating Will it had been obvious to the team from the get go, though the blonde believed she’d done a wonderful job at keeping it from us. At that point, I’d sworn to refrain from hiding anything from the team, because chances are they knew before I worked up the courage to tell them, and also I hated keeping secrets from those I loved.

However, from the moment I realised that I was developing feelings that most definitely were not platonic for a certain member of the team, I found myself taking back my original vow and amending it to the following: be honest about everything but this. And it was difficult. I was constantly monitoring my expressions, my body language and my words whenever I was around him. It was exhausting and stressful, but on the plus side I was almost certain the rest of the team had no idea what was going on. 

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present, seeing as I was at work, focus was key. Though to be fair, almost all of the team had retired to their hotel rooms at that point, so I wouldn’t actually be penalised for getting lost in my thoughts for a minute or two. My eyes flickered over the clear board covered with pictures from the three different crime scenes, and individual pictures of each victim. I always wondered what they were thinking in those photos, they always looked happy and it seemed almost wrong that their happiness had to be in the same vicinity as the gruesome images that portrayed their murder. 

With a sigh, I grabbed my now empty coffee cup and headed over to the small kitchenette in the station. My gaze fell onto Spencer as I filled my mug and I found myself reaching for a new one to pour him a beverage without even thinking about it.

‘Hey Spence,’ I murmured, my voice soft to avoid startling him too badly as I gently placed his steaming hot beverage in front of him.

‘Hey.’ He returned my smile, his brown eyes shining with exhaustion and warmth, ‘what are you still doing here?’

‘Oh, I—.’ I broke off with a sigh, the genuine concern in his eyes made it impossible to lie to him, especially when it was obvious he already knew the truth, ‘I couldn’t bring myself to leave.’ My eyes fell on the clear board again, and lingered on the happy smiling images before I forced myself to look into the warm and comforting eyes of Dr. Reid, ‘I knew if I did I wouldn’t sleep anyway, so I guess I just didn’t see the point.’

‘I understand.’ His eyes fell to the mug he was now holding between his hands as he spoke, and then lifted to meet mine when he was finished. I felt my heart skip a beat in response, as it always did when his beautiful oak eyes were focused on me.

‘We’re quite the pair, huh?’ I chuckled, running a hand through my hair and fighting back the yawn that wanted to escape my throat, ‘how have you been sleeping?’

I saw how hard he fought to keep the exhaustion from his expression before he admitted defeat and let me see it.

‘Spence,’ I murmured, my hand reaching out and grasping his left one. He removed it from his cup and turned it over so that our hands were linked together, ‘is there anything I can do?’

He’d confided a few months ago that he’d been having really awful, vivid nightmares that kept waking him up throughout the night. Eventually, he avoided sleep all together out of fear of what his unconscious mind was waiting to torture him with. I’d offered some tips that had helped me when I’d gone through the same thing: camomile tea, warm baths with lavender oils and playing a soothing playlist to fall asleep to. Since then he’d been sleeping better, but I’d noticed the familiar dark circles starting to form underneath his eyes again.

‘I do have an idea, but if it would make you uncomfortable then I understand.’ He said, biting his lip and subconsciously holding my hand tighter.

‘Okay, what is it?’ Unable to be unaffected by the anxiety that was practically pouring out of him.

‘I read a study that found those who slept in the same bed as their partner reported a higher quality of sleep and no nightmares.’ He spoke so softly that I had to strain to hear him, and when I did, I had to take a minute to process what he’d suggested.

He wanted me to sleep in the same bed as him. I felt different emotions start to I whirl inside of me, each generating a different answer. The anxiety told me that it absolutely was not a good idea. I already had romantic feelings for Spencer, what if doing this made it all the more complicated and more difficult to hide? Another part of me was determined and demanded that I took the opportunity to comfort him, because I loved him and how was I supposed to turn him away when he needed me to help him? But when I looked over to Spencer’s expression I felt the inner turmoil inside my mind fade away—he looked tired, vulnerable and hopeful. All I felt then was a strong desire to help him get a good nights rest and hopefully keep the nightmares at bay. I couldn’t be selfish with him, and if he needed me I was going to help him, even if it meant me being exposed to the feelings I’d been trying to suppress for months now.

‘Okay, but I warn you— I’ve been told I cuddle in my sleep.’ I said, keeping my tone light to diffuse the tension that had formed between us.

He chuckled, the sound was wonderful and I found myself joining him with ease as we both stood to head back to the hotel. According to the clock in the station it was ten thirty, so hopefully we’d get at least eight hours of sleep. As we made our way to the elevator, I wondered how much one night could alter a dynamic between two people.

//

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing, emitting Garcia’s personalised ringtone—‘Baby girl’ by Bryce Vine. My hand went to reach for it, but I stopped short when I realised I couldn’t move. Before I had the chance to panic, Spencer’s familiar scent invaded my nostrils; I could smell the mint smell of his shampoo, the faint remnants of his woodsy cologne and the vanilla from the hand lotion he’d borrowed before bed. He was spooning me from behind and I was helpless to stop myself from melting further into his warmth and turning my head to further take in his comforting scent. I was just on the precipice of falling back into the most peaceful sleep I’d had for years when the phone started to ring again. 

Spencer stirred this time and grabbed it, groggily promising that he’d be in soon before hanging up and tossing his phone onto the carpeted floor.

‘Was that Garcia?’ I asked, clearing my throat in an attempt to remove the sleep from my voice.

‘Yeah, they have a lead and want us in as soon as possible.’ He sighed, his grip not loosening from around my waist, ‘that was the best nights sleep I’ve had in... god I can’t even remember.’

‘It was for me too.’ I admitted softly, fighting the emotions waging a war inside my head.

I was insanely comfortable in his arms, as if I belonged there... as if I was home. But I was sure to remind myself that the feeling was one-sided—Reid didn’t feel that way about me, and why would he? I was his colleague and a friend they trusted enough to confide in about his sleeplessness. Now was not the time to get lost in my own feelings, this had been about him and I refused to allow myself to get lost in my own head.

‘We should get going.’ I murmured, reluctantly easing from his grip and heading for the bathroom to get dressed. 

By the time I emerged, Spencer was gone and I tried to ignore the way that made my stomach drop to my feet. I sent a thumbs up to the text he sent me:

Headed to the station, I’ll see you there. Thanks again for last night. Spencer.

When I arrived at the station I headed straight for the coffee before joining the others at the rectangular table in the conference room. I noticed Emily’s surprised look when she noticed I hadn’t bought a mug for Spencer but I ignored it, unwilling to focus on how I was feeling. Right now I had a job to do, there was no time to deal with the rejection and abandonment coursing through my veins. 

‘Garcia found a link, each victim was registered to a chat room discussing different fantasy novels.’ Hotch announced from where he was stood at the head of the table, his head down as he flicked through one of the case files.

‘And each agreed to a face to face meeting the night before their death with someone by the username Red Youn. I tried tracking the IP address but he’s a smart cookie and re-routed through about a million different servers.’ Garcia revealed from the speaker in the centre of the table.

‘Red Youn is an anagram for your end.’ I thought aloud, ignoring a certain pair of eyes I could feel boring into the side of my head, ‘what if he sees himself as the antagonist in his own version of a fantasy novel?’

‘That would explain the similarities in victimology.’ Morgan commented, talking about their almost identical appearances. 

‘But how would he know that before meeting them?’ My lips pursed, ‘were any of the women in contact with anyone new before they died?’

‘Ahh, sugar you always ask the best questions.’ Garcia praised, ‘yes all three women spoke to a man with the same number on the days leading up to their death. This included sending photographs and discussing their favourite villains in different fantasy novels. I’m sending you the name and address of the person this number is registered to.’

‘Garcia you are wonderful.’ I said, a genuine smile forming on my lips, it was small but it was the first sign of happiness I’d shown since I’d left my hotel room this morning.

‘Aw, tell me something I don’t know.’ She teased before she hung up and we all geared up and headed for the unsub’s residence. 

We had a suspect to arrest.

//

We’d managed to apprehend Jacob Kerwoski successfully and we’d all decided to celebrate with a meal prepared by Rossi at his humble abode. After we’d finished the food we all separated off for different activities— Derek had challenged Garcia to a game of darts, Rossi and Hotch were talking in the library and sharing stories of past cases, Emily and JJ were sat outside each holding a glass of wine and whispering about something they had to keep their voices low for. Reid and I were sat in the living room, I was personally too full to move so I was slowly sinking further and further into the soft cushions around me.

I was grateful that my stomach felt like it was exploding, it provided a distraction from the elephant in the room. I hadn’t directly spoken to Reid since this morning and I didn’t know how to break the awkwardness that existed between us now. I knew it was partly due to my inability to hide my rejection this morning after I’d returned to an empty room once I’d dressed. But it wasn’t his fault that I’d taken it so personally due to my romantic feelings for him. 

‘Reid?’ My voice was soft and tentative.

‘Y-yeah?’ He stuttered, surprised that I’d broken the silence in the room.

‘I’m sorry how I’ve been acting around you today. I just wanted you to know that it’s nothing to do with you, it’s my own issues that I need to deal with.’

He was silent for a long moment after I spoke, his eyes just staring into mine as if he were debating whether or not he should say something. It was a look I was used to seeing on his face— Spence often had thoughts, facts and information swimming around in his head and he had to filter himself. But his next words took me by surprise and had my heart beating out of my chest.

‘I know how you feel about me, Y/N.’ His voice was soft that I questioned if I’d heard him correctly, but the serious expression on his face assured me that I had.

‘H-how do I feel about you Spence?’ I asked, nervously clearing my throat.

‘For the first few years of us knowing each other, you cared for me as a friend, but that changed about six months ago. I don’t know why, and nothing obvious changed in your behaviour. You still bring me coffee, still hug me when I need it, still offer to help me with anything and everything when I need someone to rely on. But the way you look at me now, it’s... softer and warmer. You didn’t used to look at me that way before.’ He said, his voice slower than it usually was when he explained something, his calmness made my heart stutter in my chest.

‘The way you look at me now, it’s the same way that JJ and Will look at each other, except more intense.’ He scooted closer to me on the sofa, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, ‘I noticed it because I’ve been looking at you the same way for the past year.’

I blinked and my mouth fell open as my brain short circuited with the new information. Spencer had been looking at me the same way— how had I never noticed that before? I’d been so concentrated on not revealing my feelings— that I’d apparently sucked at doing— that I hadn’t noticed a change in Spence’s behaviour like he had in mine. I’d say I was a terrible profiler but I knew that I never would have noticed regardless of anything else, because I’d always believed he deserved better than me.

‘Y-you love me?’ I breathed, the emotion in my voice rendering me incapable of speaking higher than a whisper.

‘I do.’ His smile was soft, his eyes sparkled with an affectionate warmth that simultaneously made my heart melt, and breath catch in my throat.

I’m not sure who moved forward first, or if we both moved at the same time, but the next thing my mind registered was his lips moving agains mine. It started out tentative, but as Spencer’s hand slid in my hair and pulled me even closer to his chest, the kiss deepened. My hands went to his shoulders and slid up to his scalp to curl into his tousled hair. I felt him moan into my mouth when I gently tugged on the strands, and when he started to guide me to lay back onto the sofa I went willingly, pulling him along with me. 

It was hard not to get too lost in the kiss, or to take it further than we should, because finally being with him just felt so right and natural. But eventually we pulled away, reminded that we were at risk of someone walking in on us when Garcia and Derek started cheering in the other room.

‘That was...’ I trailed off, my brain still too lost from the electricity of the kiss, ‘wow.’

‘I-I ugh couldn’t agree more.’ Spencer murmured, his hand sliding from my hair so that he could wind his arm around my shoulders. 

As I melted into his side, we chatted quietly for the rest of the night, our voices no higher than a whisper as it wasn’t necessary and it allowed us to revel in our own little bubble. It was much later, when we were both on the cusp of sleep that I nuzzled my face into the side of his neck and murmured the words I’d been holding back for six months now.

‘I love you Spence.’ My eyes fluttered closed and just before I fell into unconsciousness, I heard my genius return the sentiment.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face and a heart overflowing with pure happiness.

A/N: As you can probably guess I’m still watching criminal minds, and finding myself wishing a man like Spencer Reid existed in real life. I hope you enjoyed this one-shot!