#whipped derek
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stereksimp · 7 months ago
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I try, but I suck at writing. So, this is all I got and if someone with more skill wants to write this better then please tag me.
*Derek is waking down the hall with his friend talking about the game this Friday and how their gonna kick ass. Not looking where he is going, he bumps into someone knocking them down.*
Derek: Shit sorry. I didn't see you there.
Stiles: Well maybe if you thought about something other than basketball for 2 seconds then you would have the braincells available to keep an eye on your surroundings.
*Stiles grabs his stuff and walks away, leaving a speechless Derek staring at the spot he previously was*
Derek: I'm going to marry him.
Friend 1: Do you even know his name?
Friend 2: I thought you were going after Paige?
Derek: I'm going to marry him.
Friend 1: Good luck. His best friends are Lydia and Jackson.
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jade-bright · 6 months ago
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og @stereksimp ...I did my best
Later, at the basketball game...
Home 58 - 55 Visitor [4Q]
Crowd: Defence! clap! clap! Defence! clap! clap!
Lydia: So what's the deal with you and Hale?
Stiles: What do you mean?
Crowd: Ahhhhhhhhh.. [58 - 57]
Basketball coach: Positions! Hale! Stay on your man next time!
Lydia: I mean, why the sudden interest in you? I didn't even think he knew your name before
Stiles: (muttering) ignoring the underhanded insults, (clears throat) I'm fairly certain he still doesn't know my name
Coach: Hale! Get your head in the game!
Lydia: So why the sudden interest?
Stiles: (sighs) I don't know Lyds, I bumped into him once, insulted him right afterwards and suddenly he's everywhere! The library,-
Crowd: Let's go Cy-clones!-
Stiles: the locker rooms before and after lacrosse practice,-
Crowd: Let's go! Clap! clap! clap-clap-clap!
Stiles: always close to where I park my jeep
Crowd: Let's go-
Stiles: And I'm pretty sure I saw him and some older looking dude staring at me during lunch one time
Crowd: Aw- Defence!-
Lydia: hmm, so Derek Hale
Crowd: Defence!
Lydia: star basketball player
Crowd: clap! clap!
Lydia: who likely receives nothing but praise by everyone
Crowd: Defence!
Lydia: suddenly gets put in his place by you
Crowd: clap! clap!
Lydia: and now seems to have a great interest in you...
Crowd: Defence! clap! clap!
Lydia: I think, he has a crush on you
Ref: (whistle) Number 31! Technical foul! Two shots! [60 - 59]
Both turn, and like most of the crowd, are slightly shocked since this is Derek's first technical foul. Looks to see there's less than a minute left of the game...
Stiles: Lyds...when was the last time we lost a game
Lydia: The year before Derek joined the team...
Other team makes their first shot [60 - 60]
Stiles: (looks over at Derek on the court, thinks about all the odd occurrences that have happened... thinks back to what Lydia said...goes a little pink) ...how sure are you?
Lydia: Completely
Stiles: Okay... okay
[60 - 61]
Stiles: (to himself) let's see what you're all about. let's see what you got Derek Hale
Ref: (puts his arm straight up into the air, three fingers up)
...
Ref: (puts his other arm up, holding three fingers up)
Home 63 - 61 Visitor
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waywardshadesofgeek · 7 months ago
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Derek: I’m the Alpha, and I make the rules around here.
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Stiles: Pardon?
Derek: Stiles and I make the rules around here.
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patolemus · 1 month ago
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😈
🩵🩵🩵🩵
Hehe I have a little something for you!!! First the rewrite the lines au! This motivated me to finish writing chapter 14 (thank fucking god) so that's exciting!!
“I didn’t kill them,” he says abruptly, then stops. His jaw tightens until his teeth hurt. “My pack. I didn’t… I didn’t kill them.”
For a moment, Derek doesn’t say anything, simply looking at Stiles with an expression so blank it hurts. It’s been a long, long time since any version of Derek has looked at him with this indifference. It gnaws at Stiles' entrails, biting away at him until he's bare and vulnerable.
“I know,” he finally says. His expression softens ever so slightly. Stiles breathes a little easier.
And now for the demon!stiles au!! this one is finally coming together and I'm so excited to show it to you!!
“It’s easy to talk to you. You understand me,” Stiles confesses. It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with anyone in a while. Derek brings that out of him, he supposes. “You’ve always seen the real me.”
With Derek, he’s never had to hide. He’s never had to pretend to be anything other than he is. No amount of sold souls can compare to how sweet that tastes.
“Well,” Derek says with that no-nonsense tone of his, but he’s not fooling anyone. There’s an upwards tug of his lips, he’s definitely amused. “You’ve always been too strange for a normal human.”
“Right,” and it’s their own little insight joke, Stiles’ supposed humanity. Thinking back, maybe that’s why the puppies haven’t figured it out, if Derek’s confusing them like this.
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hellameyers · 5 months ago
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I'm sorry for thinking that I could even attempt to have a civil conversation within fandom. I'm sorry for thinking that being light-hearted and jokey was the way to soften the hard-hitting questions. I didn't account for how bullied this fandom has been within its own ranks that civil discourse between factions is just not possible. It's incredibly sad that we can't get along, but that's not something I can change on my own. I see that now. It requires both sides to come to the table with interest. I guess I still had this rose-colored view that we were all part of the same fandom, so we were all friends.
It will never happen again. I am taking accountability for my actions, and I'm changing this behavior. I just hope and pray things will change while I stay in my own little corner, where people see me and like me for being authentically me.
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mariocki · 6 months ago
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Friday the 13th (2009)
"Jason. My special, special boy. They must be punished, Jason. For what they did to you. For what they did to me."
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rainbowtoothpick · 2 years ago
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I'm pretty sure everyone thought this but I'll say the weird thing.
Gato draws pretty dicks. Mason's dick was gorgeous, The Announcer's dick is gorgeous.
FROM A PURELY ARTISTIC STANDPOINT: They look nice.
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Whos metatron in your universe?
Well, the Metatron is... the Metatron, I don't really know what to tell you. Uh... he looks like a tall, young bloke covered in gold flames?
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aggressionbread · 10 months ago
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youtube
derek my man, you've done it again
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auroralwriting · 5 months ago
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spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?
guilty as sin
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)
you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you
word count: 2.7k
warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist
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"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.
It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.
The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.
"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"
Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."
"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.
Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.
"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.
You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.
"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"
"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."
You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.
Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."
Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."
"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.
"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.
Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.
You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.
Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.
And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.
"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."
Spencer hummed, "I haven't."
Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.
"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.
"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.
You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"
Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."
A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.
"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.
"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.
"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.
The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.
Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.
Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.
Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.
It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.
A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.
“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.
He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”
Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.
“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”
“You, I just want you.”
That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.
“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”
With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.
“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.
“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.
You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.
Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”
Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.
“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.
The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”
“I need more,” you replied.
“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.
You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”
Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”
Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”
“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”
“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”
Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.
“How’s that?” Spencer asked.
“Good, so good,” You babbled.
His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”
“Yes, yes!” You moaned.
Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.
It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.
“There?” He asked.
“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.
Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.
“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.
You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”
Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.
“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.
“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.
He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.
Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”
Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”
“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”
You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”
“Where?” He asked.
“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.
“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.
The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”
“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”
Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”
You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”
Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?
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g0dlyunsub · 4 months ago
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not enough.
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spencer couldn’t be there to help you during a case, and he thinks that he’s not deserving of your forgiveness.
pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader
warnings :: mentions of fire, burns and injuries, hospitalization, reader gets injured, angst, descriptions of blades, hurt/comfort, fluff, medical inaccuracies
word count :: 1.8k
author’s note :: i have not written in a while but here's something that's been sitting in my drafts :3
accompanying song :: breathe by lauv
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"kid, you need to go."
"no, i'm not leaving you. i'm not-" spencer coughs as the dust mingles with the air in his lungs. "-i'm not leaving her."
"reid, go!" derek shouts over the roaring flames.
you can hear their desperate exchange, but you can’t say anything. 
everytime you swallow, it feels like a razor blade's sliding down your throat; it makes jagged cuts in your parched throat. 
all of your tears have evaporated from the surface of your eyes due to the scorching heat, and it hurts to blink. 
you don’t even realize that your trousers are literally on fire until spencer’s patting at the flames with his bare hand, all the while trying to get the restraints off of you.
“i can’t- i can’t get them off!” spencer heaves, and you can hear the panic in his voice turning into hot anger.
“reid, just take the other guy and go!” 
derek’s shouting, but he’s barely audible next to the unrelenting fire.
"please, let me-"
you feel spencer tug with all his might, pushing and pulling against the ropes, but they’re too tight. the ropes aren’t made of special material, but the heat’s completely melted and fused the knot, making it near-impossible to rip apart.
you can barely keep your eyes open, but you can still see spencer frantically whipping his head back and forth, glancing at you and the last hostage in the room.
derek gives spencer a knowing look, one that you know all too well. 
reluctantly, spencer looks down. 
he can see the flames reflected in your eyes. 
he can see the pain seared into your skin.
a lump starts to form in his throat.
you’re mouthing the word go.
greasy tears well up in his eyes, and spencer splutters a cry. 
“sorry.”
he adds another sorry. and he adds another, until all he’s murmuring is an incoherent stream of apologies. 
you watch as he slings his arm around the hostage’s waist and drags his feet to the exit, and you watch until all you can see is the wavy outline of his figure, distorted by the heatwaves.
your eyes flicker between open and closed.
“y/n, stay with me. no, no, no,” derek shakes you while he continues to saw through your strings with a dull object, “don’t you give up on me now.”
the smoke’s rolled up to cover the ceiling, and an amber glow coats the entire room.
with the cacophony of the roaring flames, expletives spluttering from derek’s mouth, and the back and forth of the rounded blade, the sounds of your restraints loosening barely make it to your ears.
“come on!”
derek hastily tears the fraying restraints and pulls you away from the blazing rod that you’ve been tied to.
you take a desperate gasp for air at the sudden relief, but only choke on dust and the fierce heat. 
it’s too much — too much grime, grease, toxins coating your airways. you stop trying to breathe.
you hear derek groan as he takes your limp body in his arms and lifts you up, and the sudden change in position has you seeing stars.
as derek hauls you out, you see a brief flash of the sky. you could’ve sworn it was a shade of blue clearer than the ocean before you entered, but now it’s a beat down shade of jaundiced yellow.
huh.
it’s burning so darkly.
when spencer sees you come out of the burning building, tucked in the arms of derek morgan, he thinks he’s looking at a fallen angel.
dark smoke and dust pepper you head to toe, and your parted lips are making such a desperate effort to stay open.
you’re not breathing.
he breaks into a sprint. the calls from hotch and rossi fly behind him, as do their attempts to grasp him back. he runs to you, and not a single person can stop him.
he drops to his knees next to your unconscious body on the ground with derek, and his heart instantly falls. 
his brain starts to perform an instant diagnosis of your condition – he sees the burn marks scattered over your arms and legs, and he can almost feel your pain, like your nerves are connected to his.
the medics surrounding the scene yell out orders to stay back so that they can start chest compressions, but spencer won’t move.
he’s with you when you jerk back out of unconsciousness, when you’re still too weak to process all of the visual and auditory cues around you.
he’s with you when you’re lifted onto the back of the ambulance.
you can hear him raising his voice at the medics.
“we need to administer aerosolized unfractionated heparin with albuterol and check for hypovolemia, she needs oral and mivf immediately upon admission-”
you phase out once again.
when you open your eyes, you realize that you’re not in an ordinary hospital room.
you’re inside the intensive care unit.
generally, only family members are admitted as visitors in the icu, but the man laying his head over the side rails of your bed isn’t your family member.
spencer had to break some protocol to get here.
as you shift your bandaged arms over the blanket, spencer starts to stir slightly, until he realizes that it’s you moving beside him.
his eyes widen as he raises his head.
“how do i look?” you weakly mutter and force your lips into a smile.
his lips quiver, and he’s about to reach for your hand before he realizes that you probably can’t even handle his touch.
“so-” his voice cracks, “so beautiful. so incredibly beautiful.”
your heart does a flip at his words.
“you don’t have to lie.”
he looks away for a brief second, before shaking his head. “i’m not. i swear. you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever met — that i’ve ever seen.”
you let out a pained chuckle. “would you look at that, my skin’s blushing.” you turn your arm to the side slightly and loosen your bandages to reveal the pink cuts in your flesh. 
spencer’s brows knit together in a pained expression, and you cringe at your own joke.
you inhale slowly. “spill it, spence.”
“spill what?”
“you did that thing where you look away. it’s your giveaway.”
“no, i-”
you turn your head to look at him with a pleading face, and he succumbs instantly.
he pulls his hand. “i- uh…”
he looks at you once and you raise your brows, an encouraging sign to continue written all over your face.
“i don’t deserve you.”
you blink slowly.
“you deserve someone better,” he continues, looking down ashamedly.
you can't possibly be hearing him correctly. “someone better?”
“someone like morgan.”
“morgan?”
“yeah. derek morgan. he’s the one who stayed with you, who carried you out of that crumbling building. i couldn’t protect you. i failed the one thing i promised myself.” 
“spencer, i wasn’t the only one- you had to save the other guy stuck in there.”
“the worst part is-” spencer chokes, “even if i traded places with morgan, i don’t know if i would’ve gotten us out in time.”
your eyes start to water. “no, spence, don’t say that.”
“i’m not strong enough. i’m not strong like morgan, and i’m not strong enough to protect you. i let you down. i failed you.”
you shake your head. “no, spencer. no. you’ve never failed me, do you hear me? you never failed me and you never will fail me. because-”
you take a deep breath.
“you broke protocol for me, the entire time. i heard what you said to the medics in the ambulance. and you’re here. right now.”
this time, he shakes his head. “it’s the least i can do. it still doesn’t change the fact that i couldn’t take the bullet for you.”
“spencer-”
you lean forward, a strangled grunt leaving your lips, until you’re a mere inch away from spencer’s face.
“maybe,” you start, flickering your gaze left and right into his sunken eyes.
“maybe i want to take the bullet for you too. maybe i want to protect you too. maybe i want-” you smile, “-to fight to stay with you.”
he pulls back, and glassy traces of tears coats his entire face.
again, you smile. “because if you don’t deserve me, then i don’t deserve you either.”
and it’s your goddamn smile that absolves all of his worries in an instant, that makes spencer forget that you’re bundled up in layers of gauze and bandages, that makes him think you’re an angel with a golden halo that’s lighting up the entire room.
it’s only when you let out an disgruntled sigh that he realizes you’re not an angel in a dress but a patient in a hospital gown, and the guilt latches back onto him like an inseparable magnet.
spencer’s eyes soften with concern and gloss over your entire body. gently lifting the edges of the blanket, he brushes his fingers against yours.
“my arm – it’s itchy,” you explain, and close your eyes to restrain yourself from picking at your scabby skin.
“i’m sorry,” spencer returns, an empathetic expression sweeping his face. “the bandages have to stay on, unfortunately.”
“my face-” you start, and spencer’s now looking at you with an expression crossing between serious and disturbed.
“your face? does it itch? where?”
he leans over, and cups your chin in the palm of his hand. slowly, he moves your face to the left and right, until you meet his misty brown eyes in the middle.
“my mouth.”
“your mouth?”
“yeah,” you scrunch your lips in a pained expression, but smile. “i think a kiss would help.”
spencer raises his brows in surprise, and a coughy chuckle leaves the back of his throat.
he can’t fight the excitement bubbling in his heart when you say that, when you’re so adorably bold in front of him.
how could he ever deserve you?
“you asked for it,” he murmurs quietly, before leaning in and bringing his lips to yours. he caresses the side of your face as his soft lips give you a taste of his desperation, though it’s too short to quench your desire.
he pulls back and cocks his head to the side to stare at you with admiring eyes. “is that better?”
you return a contemplative look, pouting your lips slightly. “it’s still itchy.”
he shakes his head amusedly and places a hand on the cushioned mattress, before leaning in to make your heart flutter with another kiss. it’s deeper than before, but he still draws himself back to not deprive you of your air.
once again, he pulls back and graces your eyes with a shy smile. “how about now?”
you tut disapprovingly. “nope.”
a wide smile curves the corners of spencer’s mouth, and he reaches to hold your hand affectionately in his. 
your feverish cheeks light up with a hot glow when your lips intertwine with his in a slow rhythm, when spencer slowly moves his hand behind your head to tousle your strands of hair flowing through his fingers.
he doesn’t ask any more questions.
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hoe4hotchner · 3 months ago
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Bakery owner reader x loyal customer hotch
Something with the team finding out about reader and seeing hotch all happy and smiling and whipped for her.
Later them finding out they’re actually dating and penny freaking out 😭😭
Love, Freshly Baked | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Bakery owner!reader
CW: Nothing but tooth rotting fluff
WC: 1k
A/N: Forgive me for having this drafted for ages!!! But here it is, and it's super duper cute!!!
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           The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee filled the small bakery every morning, a cozy retreat nestled on a quiet corner of the bustling city. You had been running the shop for a couple of years now, getting to know every regular by name, but there was one customer who had quickly become your favorite.
           Aaron Hotchner.
           He’d been coming in almost every morning for months, ordering the same thing - a black coffee and a croissant - but it wasn’t just the simplicity of his order that caught your attention. It was the way he always seemed so calm and composed, even when the stress of his job was written all over his face. You weren’t sure what he did - all you knew was he had to wear a suit for the job - but you could tell it wore on him. Still, every time he walked through the door, his shoulders relaxed just a little, and a small smile would tug at his lips when he saw you.
           What you didn’t know was that Hotch’s team had noticed this change in him. It started small - an extra cup of coffee in the morning, a slightly brighter demeanor after breakfast - but it wasn’t long before the rest of the BAU picked up on it.
           “Anyone else notice how… happy Hotch has been lately?” Emily asked one morning as they gathered around their desks, waiting for the next case.
           Morgan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “You’re right. I haven’t seen Hotch smile this much in… well, ever.”
           "Maybe he’s just found a new way to deal with stress. Meditation, perhaps?” Spencer didn't look up from the book he was reading as he answered.
           Penelope scoffed, twirling a bright pink pen in her hand. “Please, Reid. Hotch isn’t meditating. Something - or rather someone - has got him smiling.”           
           The rest of the team exchanged looks, curiosity piqued.
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           A few days later, their suspicions were confirmed.
           It was a slow day at the office, so Hotch decided to take a longer-than-usual lunch break. What he didn’t realize was that his team had quietly followed him to the bakery, determined to find out what - or who - was behind their boss’s newfound cheerfulness.
           “Look,” Penelope whispered excitedly from across the street, pointing toward the bakery window. “He’s smiling! He’s actually smiling!”
           Sure enough, through the glass, they could see Hotch leaning against the counter, his face lit up in a way they’d never seen before. And then there was you, standing behind the counter with that same soft smile you always gave him.
           “Oh my god,” JJ whispered, her eyes wide. “Is that the bakery he always talks about?”
           “Looks like it,” Derek said, grinning. “And it looks like our boy is whipped.”
           Inside the bakery, Hotch had no idea he was being watched. He was too focused on you - on the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your latest recipe, the way your hands moved with such care as you worked on rolling out the dough. Every morning spent in your presence was like a small respite from the chaos of his job, and he found himself craving that peace more and more as time went by.
           You handed him his coffee, and for a moment, your fingers brushed his. The simple contact sent a warmth through him that no amount of caffeine ever could.
           “You know, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying the warmth that always made his mornings a little brighter, “you’re going to start running out of excuses to come here if you keep this up.”
           Hotch chuckled, a rare sound that you loved hearing. “I’ll think of something.”
           As he turned to leave, he glanced back one more time, catching your eye and giving you a smile that was just for you.
           Meanwhile, across the street, Penelope was practically bouncing with excitement. “You guys! He’s totally into her! Did you see that smile? We have to find out more.”
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           A week later, the team got more than they bargained for.
           It was a Friday afternoon, and Hotch had just returned to the office after lunch. He was in a good mood, his smile lingering longer than usual. That’s when Penelope burst into the room, holding up her phone like it was a trophy.
           “Guys, you are not going to believe this!” she exclaimed, her voice high with excitement.
           The team gathered around, eyes wide as Penelope pulled up a photo she’d found online. It was you and Hotch, taken outside the bakery on a sunny day. He had his arm around your waist, and you were looking up at him with a smile that could melt hearts.
           “They’re dating!” Penelope practically squealed. “Hotch is dating the owner of the bakery!”
           The rest of the team was equally stunned.
           “Okay, now it all makes sense,” Emily said, grinning. “The extra coffee, the smiling, the mysterious bakery trips.”
           Morgan shook his head, chuckling. “Never thought I’d see the day when Hotch would be this smitten again. It’s nice to see him happy.”
           Penelope, however, was still in full freak-out mode. “Oh my god, we have to do something! Maybe throw them a surprise party or - wait, no, that’s too much. But we have to celebrate this somehow!”
           As they brainstormed, Hotch walked back into the bullpen, completely unaware of the chaos his relationship had caused among his team. But when he saw the knowing smiles on their faces, he paused.
           “What’s going on?” he asked, eyebrow raised.
           Penelope couldn’t hold it in any longer. “We know about the bakery, Hotch! And about her!” she blurted out, practically glowing with excitement.
           For a moment, Hotch was silent, his eyes scanning the room before he finally let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I should’ve known you’d find out eventually.”
           The team erupted into laughter, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner didn’t mind being the center of attention - because, after all, it was all for a love that made him happier than he’d ever been.
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benevolentbones · 7 months ago
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Hi ✨️✨️
Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.
your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader
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warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting
word count: 1.7k
a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3
half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.
emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.
“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.
“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.
“reid, you in?”
spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.
“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.
“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.
“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.
“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.
“but-“
“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”
spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.
“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.
“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.
emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.
“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.
everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.
“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.
she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”
“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.
“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.
spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.
“y/n!”
you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.
“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.
“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.
“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.
“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.
“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.
derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.
“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.
“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.
you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.
“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.
“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.
“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.
emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.
“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.
“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.
“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”
“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.
you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.
“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.
“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.
you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.
spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.
he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.
finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.
“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.
he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.
“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.
“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.
“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.
“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.
“a-and do you like being a bartender?”
you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.
“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.
“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.
“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.
��i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.
“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.
you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”
“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.
your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.
“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.
“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.
you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.
“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.
“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.
you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.
“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.
“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.
your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.
“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.
taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid
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ilovemesomevincentprice · 2 years ago
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Thanks to my friend @eviltothecore13 for sending me this...
Vincent Price on filming "The Ten Commandments"...
"There was a scene where I had to whip John Derek to death,” laughed Vincent. “Well, he deserved to die; Anybody that pretty should be whipped. I took lessons on how to use the whip for about two months. I really had a man who came everyday and I took on the whip to the point I could do anything with it. Like whipping a cigarette out of people’s mouths.”
😳 🥵
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jellyfishsthings · 2 months ago
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Hold Your Breath My Darling
WARNINGS: angst, like super angst, lovesick and whipped Spencer, earlier seasons Spencer, Hotch trained reader, Ex spy, fem reader, dying (or coming close to it), panic attacks, typical criminal minds violence... there will be a part two soon, please let my know if I am missing anything else
requests are open
part 2
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The BAU team arrived at the small town of Crescent Hills, ready to investigate a series of gruesome murders. The victims all shared similar physical characteristics. The team quickly realized that the killer was targeting women who looked exactly like you, the same hair, the same eyes and somehow personality, which had to be the scarriwst part of them all.
As the team discussed their next move, Spencer couldn't help but stare at her. She was the spitting image of the victims, but she seemed unfazed by the situation. In fact, she suggested that she pose as bait in order to catch the killer. She was the agent her mentor made her, because Hotch would have done the same in a heartbeat. Yet as Hotch looked at the young woman standing at his side, standing tall and holding her head high with pride and bravery, wearing a mask of calmness hiding her whirlwind of emotions with quite the efficiency.
Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the thought of his best friend putting herself in danger. His hands shook with dread and anxiety and his mind raced to a million directions as his heart seemed to weight a few tons more than usual. He was so confused. He had always seen her as a friend, but in that moment, he couldn't deny the intense feelings he had for her. Yes he had always cared for her, and wouldn't wish any harm in her way, but at this moment he desperately wished to have been the genius he claimed to be, to find a way out of this, to solve this without any one getting hurt, to keep her safe and alive and well next to him, hoping she felt even a sliver of the intesity of his emotions. He knew he couldn't let her go through with this plan. He had to act quickly, not caring if he embarrassed himself in the process.
"You can't do this, it's too dangerous," Spencer pleaded with her, his eyes shining with unshead tears as he saw her walking in her hotel room, trying to make herself more appealing for the UnSub.
"I can handle myself, Spencer," she replied confidently."Do not worry. I have been trained from the best." She whispered as she lightly hugged him and kissed his cheeks and the storm raging inside of him seemed to calm down for a few short seconds.
But Spencer couldn't shake off the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He had been so focused on his work and solving the case that he hadn't even realized his true feelings for her until now. As the team set up a plan, Spencer couldn't help but keep a close eye on her. He couldn't let her out of his sight. But as she put herself in harm's way, Spencer's heart was in his throat
The warehouse was quiet, the ominous shadows twisting around the corners like specters waiting to strike and fear started clawing its way to her heart. Derek Morgan’s voice echoed in her mind; “You’re one of us, kiddo. Trust your instincts.” But in this moment, trust felt like an anchor dragging her deeper into despair.
She was second guessing herself now as well as her abilities. Maybe she had made a mistake. She had volunteered without hesitation, knowing the stakes were high. A string of brutal murders had terrorized several towns, and the Behavioral Analysis Unit needed to understand what made this killer tick. But she had never expected that the very thing she sought to uncover would entrap her instead.
As she stepped deeper into the warehouse, darkness enveloped her like a suffocating blanket. The cold was biting, but the fear coursed through her veins like ice. She had set off the sound of a chilling recording, a mocking lure that had been crafted specifically for the UnSub. The air was alive with tension, every creak of the old metal structure amplifying her dread.
“Just breathe,” she murmured to herself, but her heart raced faster with every passing second. Somehow, despite the adrenaline's flow, she felt an unsettling calm, as if her body was preparing for something inevitable.
She thought of the team back at the BAU. Hotch would be analyzing their data, Emily and Derek keeping their wits about them, and as she closed her eyes, she could almost hear Spencer Reid’s gentle voice. He was always a soothing presence, with his deep well of knowledge and quirky sense of humor.
“Remember when I tried to teach you how to play chess?” he whispered in her mind, a memory flooding back. They had been at a coffee shop breaking down a case when she had confided that she hadn’t learned the game as a child. With a persistent twinkle in his eye, he taught her the basics, patiently explaining the rules as she fumbled through the moves. They laughed when she mistakenly thought pawns could move diagonally anytime.
In this dark warehouse, she recalled how he had once said, “You have to think several moves ahead. In chess, just as in life.” She held onto that wisdom now, fighting to stifle her panic.
The quiet was shattered by footsteps echoing through the maze of crates and rusted metal. She steeled herself, adrenaline rushing through her as the UnSub emerged from the shadows. He was a tall figure, cloaked in darkness, his face obscured by a mask that sent a shiver down her spine.
“Welcome,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
She fought the surge of terror that threatened to overwhelm her. How? How had he been expecting her? She was a trained spy for the love of God, before joining the BAU, had she rusted her abilities this quickly? It had only been five years. Five wonderful, free years.
She couldn’t falter. In her mind, she anchored herself to another memory: a sunny afternoon with Reid. They had shared ice cream on a picnic blanket, debating the best flavors like children. He had quipped that pistachio was underappreciated, while she insisted on the classic chocolate chip cookie dough.
“You’re practically a gourmet, aren’t you?” she teased, and his laugh had brightened that day, sunlight dancing in his eyes.
But now, there were no sunny picnics; shadows danced along the walls as the UnSub advanced towards her. She could see glimmers of rage flickering in his eyes, an intensity that struck fear into her heart.
“Let’s see just how strong you are,” he hissed, gripping her arms in a vice-like hold. She gasped as pain shot through her, but even as she winced, she summoned the memory of Reid, who had taught her the importance of mindfulness in the face of fear.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted, fueling her resolve with every ounce of anger she could muster.
But he laughed, a cruel sound that sent tremors of dread through her. The sharpness of reality cut through her feelings of safety, and she swallowed hard, desperately piecing together scattered memories, trying to fund the best course of action but it was already to late. She felt sluggish and slow, something was wrong.
She tried to find the good memories, to find courage and strength, such as Reid’s infinite patience, his love for obscure trivia, the whimsical way he could make her smile even in the darkest of moments.
“Your game is over,” the UnSub snarled, his breath hot against her skin.
As he began to carry out his twisted intentions, she closed her eyes tightly, conjuring one last memory, one that radiated warmth in the encroaching darkness. The night Reid had confessed his fears of inadequacy, only to find solace in their bond, his fingers grazing hers in comforting reassurance, his eyes reflecting the kind of understanding that only comes from empathy.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, even as fear clawed at her soul. “No matter what happens, I’m not afraid. I will not give you the satisfaction of the perfect murder, trust me it will be a fight to bring me down.”
"Oh, but you have already lost. I think you must be feeling it be now."
Her heart pounded with the realization that she might not escape. But in those harrowing moments, as she fought against the loop of pain and despair, she anchored herself in the love and camaraderie of her team—every shared laugh, every overcoming of hardship. No matter what happened, they would carry her spirit forward.
In those last flickers of consciousness, she thought of Spencer, his brilliance, his laugh, and the unyielding strength of their bond. She hoped he would forgive her for failing to bring him the answers they so desperately needed, all while holding onto the belief that even the darkest of nights must give way to dawn.
With that thought, she embraced the memories that would never fade, hoping they would echo in the hearts of those she loved, a reminder that even in their darkest hours, they could find light.
Then the darkness came.
The cold grip of fear tightened around Spencer Reid's heart as he stood in the dimly lit acting conference room of the BAU, a small desk office of the local police station. The air was thick with tension and the weight of impending decisions that could alter their fates. He paced the floor anxiously, running a hand through his tousled hair while his mind raced with worst-case scenarios.
“Guys, we can’t go through with this,” he implored, turning to face his team, his voice a tremor of desperation. “The unsub is more unpredictable than we anticipated, and we can’t risk her life. What if—”
“It’s not just about her,” Derek Morgan countered, crossing his arms. “This mission aims to take down a dangerous criminal. We need to act fast before he slips through our fingers again.”
“But what if he targets her, Morgan?” Spencer’s voice escalated, echoing in the room. “I've analyzed his patterns. If she’s involved, she’s at extreme risk. We can’t afford to lose her!”
Emily Prentiss, caught between the mounting urgency and Reid’s grave expression, glanced at the other agents. “We have to trust our instincts, Spencer, but you know we all understand the risk involved. We can deploy a secondary team to protect her—”
“No!” Reid snapped, panic threading his tone. “You don’t understand. I can’t shake this feeling. What if this is a trap? She shouldn’t be there. We need to stop this. We need to call it off.”
The room fell silent as his pleas hung in the air, but time was running out, and the team had a job to do. With reluctant determination, they gathered their gear and left the conference room, unknowingly walking into the lion’s den.
Spencer’s heart raced as he followed them, a whirlwind of dread washing over him. They arrived at the location of the suspected meeting and quickly fanned out, but dread settled deeper in his chest as time ticked away.
Minutes felt like hours, and Reid’s worries morphed into a nightmare. Suddenly, over the comms, a shout broke through the chaos, and panic pierced the stillness. “She’s down! She’s down!”
Spencer’s instinct kicked in, but it felt like running through molasses as he pushed past his teammates. His breath quickened dramatically. He reached the scene, and there she was—Her body lay still against the cold asphalt, pale and lifeless.
Everything around him blurred as the sirens wailed in the distance, blending into an agonizing scream that reverberated in his mind. He dropped to his knees beside her, an overwhelming despair crashing down like a tidal wave. “No, no, no…” he chanted, disbelief coursing through him as the realization sank in.
He placed his hands on her chest, feeling the emptiness where her spirit should have been. “Stay with me. Please,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he started CPR. Each pump felt futile, desperation fueling his actions—A metronome to the rhythm of her fading heartbeat.
“Come on, please! Breathe, breathe!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he pressed harder, not willing to accept the undeniable truth standing stark against reality—a truth that seemed to throng his senses.
Suddenly, strong hands pulled him backward. “Spencer, let the medics handle this,” a voice shouted through the fog of his anguish. It was Morgan, trying to wrestle him back to reality.
“No! I can’t! I won’t let her go!” Reid screamed, thrashing against the hold, fighting against the gravity of grief. But the world around him was collapsing, everything turning hazy, the wail of the sirens growing louder, drowning him in despair.
“Spencer!” Morgan’s voice cut through the fog, but it felt distant, as if coming from underwater. He was pulled away from the scene, from her cold body that lay so still. The agents moved in, the medics began their work, but Reid felt as if a piece of himself was being torn apart, the agonizing reality sinking its teeth deeper into his soul.
He fell to his knees, the weight of his failure crashing into him like a heavy stone, unyielding and unforgiving. Tears streamed down his face as he watched helplessly, the ache in his chest mimicking a gaping wound.
Desperation clawed at him as he realized that no amount of pleading or data could bring her back. And in that moment, the chaos of the world faded away, and all he knew was a profound loss that reverberated through every fiber of his being.
And then the impossible happened. She was still bleeding, covered in deep cuts by a knife that would scar her for life. Yet her chest lifted lightly before falling down.
Once.
Twice.
He was sure he was dreaming of it. His mind playing a trick on him, not being ready to register his life without her existence.
But no.
It was true. She was breathing.
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zvdvdlvr · 6 months ago
Text
from the club
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Derek’s wolf whistle made you roll your eyes and try to slip into your seat without drawing too much attention. “Damn, mama,” he sang teasingly, eyeing you up and down.
“Derek Morgan! I ought to-“
“Whoa!”
You glared at Spencer, trying to ifnore the way his eyes trailed over your cleavage. “It’s like you guys have never even been in the presence of a female before,” you snark sarcastically. Secretly, though, you feel complimented that such aesthetically pleasing people thought you looked good.
Emily, Jennifer, Penelope, and Rossi were later than Hotch surprisingly. Aaron strode in next, laying a stack of files on the table. He sat down at his regular spot and turned to make conversation until the other arrived when he turned and saw you. His lips drew thinly over his face as he watched you reach over the table to grab a file. He swallowed and averted his eyes from you when you sat back in your seat. Hotch felt like a pervert and averted his mind to the more pressing matter. Dead bodies, knives, murder, he repeated to himself- trying to draw blood away from his crotch.
J.J., Penelope, and Emily arrived next. “Coffee for you all, my precious gems!” Penny sang, placing the team’s favorite brews in front of them. After she placed yours down her eyes gleamed and she raised her eyebrows. “Did you call-“
“Penelope!” You hollered, turning away from the red-head with a laugh. 
She just giggled and wiggled her eyebrows. As Emily took her place beside you, she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I’m no better than the men here, y/n. You look hot.” 
You swatted her away and waited for J.J. to start the briefing. Emily snickered beside you.
There was really nothing professional about being called into work wearing low-rise jeans and a lacey tank top. But it wasn’t your fault- some of your college friends had stopped in the city and wanted to go to the club and wouldn’t take no as an answer.
Rossi showed up right before Hotch said his favorite phrase (read: “wheels up in 30”). You collected your file and started out of the room.
“Good lo- y/n!”
You whipped around to see Penelope rushinf towards you. “Wh-What?”
“You’ve surprised me more times today than I thought possible, darling girl. Turn around! I didn’t know you had ink!” 
You breathed out a sigh of relief and tried to ignore the feeling of her cold fingers tracing over the black ink just above your jeans. “I have some on the mid back too,” you said quietly.
“Impressive,” Rossi- of all people- hummed. “One of my ex wives roped me into getting a matching tattoo with her. The pain was somethinf else and the aftercare was hell. Rookie, here has a high pain tolerance.” He patted your practically bare shoulder and walked by without another word.
Emily purred lowly as she walked by, laughing at the way you flipped her off in return.
“You know, Jeffery Dahmer didn’t consume people that had tattoos… He said that the ‘tattoos made the meat taste like… shit’,” Reid spouted.
The way Spencer paused before saying shit was endearing. Maybe it was your attraction to nerds, but you felt particularly flattered at the weight of his gaze on you. “That’s interesting, Spencer,” you replied quietly. “Did you know the oldest recorded tattoo ink recipe required insect eggs?”
Spencer just hummed.
“I- uh,” Aaron cleared his throat. You stepped back from Penelope’s hands. “I imagine you have more professional attire?”
Your cheeks flushed. “Yes, Hotch. I’m really sorry, my friends convinced me to go out with them, you know, and I-“
Hotch chuckled and held his hands up. “It’s okay, y/n. What you do on your own time is your business,” he said.
You wrung your hands. “Thanks, Hotch.”
“No problem, y/n.” Hotch started to walk away and you felt Derek’s arm wrap around your shoulder. “Nice ink,” he called back to you. 
“I’ll see you on the plane, y/n,” Spencer told you with a wave. You smiled back at him and watched him run a hand through his hair as he walked away.
“Lover boy’s gotta thing for you, y/n,” Derek told you, a shit eating grin on his face. “And Hotch too, if I took a guess. I think you made the old man pop a bo-“
“Derek Morgan!”
You shoved him off of you and tried to ignore his gleeful laughter.
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