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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months

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To Hell...: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: A man intentionally admits to murdering ten people he didn’t kill all because his sister is missing. The facts take you to a pig farm where a world of horror is waiting for you.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

Everyone heads back to the conference room to talk about the new evidence while Will stays in the interrogation room. You play the voicemail for everyone to hear.

"William, are you there? Something bad is happening. It's dark. I don't know where he's taking me--"

"After that, the signal cuts out."

"Is this the same night she left her mom's house?" Spencer asks.

"Yeah. Will called in an army favor. They triangulated the call to a cell tower in Canada just over the border in Port Huron. It explains why he crossed into your jurisdiction."

"It's also a surefire way to get the FBI involved. He knew we'd investigate an American citizen being held on multiple murder charges."

"You believe him?" Jeff asks you.

"I do." Penelope calls and you place her on speakerphone. "Go ahead, Penelope."

"I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I've got IDs on multiple border crosses for the dates in question. The trouble is, I've got hundreds, and as far as I can tell if your license doesn't ping for any prior felonies, you're pretty much gonna pass go and collect two hundred Canadian dollars."

"She's right. That's the busiest cross in North America. There's a lot of commercial traffic, trucks mostly. Stop and searches would cause too many delays."

"He's got a virtually free pass, and once he crosses, there's nothing but woods to hide whatever he's doing."

Rossi and Hotch managed to get Jeff to release William so that he's under the FBI's jurisdiction. Hotch wants him patrolling the streets like he's been doing. He has a rapport with those people, so he's the best bet in noticing if someone is missing. If something comes up, then there is a lot more manpower to deal with it than what Will's been given.

You and Spencer walk into the conference room where JJ is on the phone.

"Yes, ma'am, right now we just consider them missing. The second I get more information, I'll be in contact with you."

"How's it going?"

"The majority of the people on the street aren't even from Detroit. We don't have last names or hometowns on most of them. Unless there's a missing persons report on file somewhere, it's almost impossible."

"Most of these people's families probably gave up on seeing them long ago," Spencer sighs.

"A mother would never give up." You have to agree with JJ here. If your child went missing, you'd do anything to find them. "Can you hand me William's arrest report?"

Spencer does, and she leaves the room just in time for Penelope to call.

"Yeah, Garcia?"

"Sherlock, it's Watson. I think I've got something."

"What do you have?"

Rossi enters the room to hear what Penelope has to say.

"I checked Detroit crime reports over the last month because Derek and Emily astutely thought there might be some sort of assaults or disturbances having to do with our unsub. Well, it's tres weird but on five of the abduction nights, Detroit PD reports a break-in or a robbery at some type of medical facility."

"What type of medical facility?"

"We got a hospital, blood bank, medical supply company, and the Red Cross. He's not even stealing narcotics. The stuff he took is anesthesia, sterilizing equipment, and syringes."

"Where were these places located?"

"Putnam Street, St. Antoine, East Hancock, and Martin Luther King Boulevard."

"Those are all in the Cass Corridor."

That's where everyone seems to be disappearing from.

"Do you have a list of what else he stole?" you ask and grab a pen and paper.

"IV tubes, an infusion pump, units of O-negative blood, chest tubes, O-silk sutures, and Elastoplast."

"Thanks, Pen." Spencer hangs up. "You don't just randomly know how to hook a line up to an infusion pump, or that O-neg is the only safe blood type for any victim."

"I'll tell Hotch we think we know what he's doing with them," Spencer says.

Rossi and Jeff gather the men and women of the police force so that you can deliver the profile. Something about this doesn't make sense to you, but with all the evidence in front of you, you have no choice but to go with what everyone else is saying.

"We believe the man we're looking for is a sexual sadist. What this means is that for him, torture becomes a substitute for the sex act. The fact that he's stealing medical equipment like sterilizing agents and anesthesia tells us he may be performing experiments or surgeries on his victims," Rossi begins.

"We believe this unsub gets gratification from his ability to keep his victims alive in order to endure more torture. The choice of items stolen is extremely specific, which makes us believe he's got a medical background, so check disciplinary files at hospitals, med schools, and community health organizations. People would have noticed his behavior."

"This is someone who would volunteer to perform painful procedures," you state. "He would spend extra time probing a broken hand or a distended abdomen, and after a long day when everyone else is emotionally drained from multiple traumas and mangled bodies, he'd be the one pushing his coworkers to go out for a drink and talk about their day."

"Now, we know what you're thinking--a profile is fine, but our best shot at stopping this guy is still to catch him in the act. This unsub is extremely smart and obviously organized. He's managed to abduct very different victims with very different abilities, all with no witnesses. That's why we're coordinating with the police and our agents on the ground in Detroit."

"We've also asked Sergeant Hightower to act as a guide on the streets in Detroit while he's in our custody," Rossi says.

Everyone looks at Will who is silent at the table.

"That's it. If you have any questions, you find me or one of the agents," Jeff says to his people.

William is about to get up when he sees someone enter the station with JJ. He goes rigid like he's not expecting someone he knows to show up here.

"What's she doing here?" he asks angrily.

"We've notified all the family members we can locate."

"You have no right."

"It's her daughter," Rossi says. "She has a right to know."

William looks at the picture of his sister on the board and lets a tear roll down his cheek. If he's getting this emotional, then that can only mean the woman with JJ is his mother.

"It's one thing to believe Lee is lost on the streets, but I don't want her to know that there's a killer out there. We know how this is gonna end."

"No, we don't."

"Look, everything I have done is to find the truth so I can spare her. I don't want her living off hope."

"There are worse things," Jeff says.

"You're wrong. Bad news stops us for a while, but then you move on. Hope is paralyzing."

"He has a point," you say. "Hope in situations like this drains you of the person you are. I'd rather the bad news."

His mother stands at the doorway so that when he looks behind him, he sees the look on her face. He gets up to greet her even though he can't seem to say anything. She doesn't say anything but opens her arms for him, to which he hugs her back.

"Oh, my God," she whispers and pulls away from Will to approach the board with all the victims on it. "Are all these people missing?"

"We believe so."

"Do you have any suspects?"

"No, but we have a strategy to try to catch him. William is helping."

"My daughter... Is there any chance she could still be alive?"

"It's possible."

"Do you know what he's doing to them?"

"It's difficult to say."

JJ escorts Will's mother out of the room to sit somewhere else to answer a few questions. You, Hotch, and Will are going to join Derek and Emily down at the station in Detroit while the rest stay in Canada. You reach over to grab Spencer's hand but he quickly moves it away from you.

"Please don't touch me."

"Oh, okay."

"I mean, not my hands," he stutters.

"You don't have to explain yourself. It's okay. I'll call you if we find something."

You leave Spencer with that and head to Detroit with Will and Hotch. Spencer is still probably freaked out about what happened with the whole Anthrax situation, so you'll give him as much space and time as he needs to heal. In the meantime, you have a case to worry about. Emily and Derek meet you at the station when you arrive in Detroit.

"Thanks for believing me," Will says to you and Hotch.

"You don't have to thank us," you say.

"William, I want you to understand that even if we catch him, you're probably gonna end up doing some time in Canada."

"I can live with that."

You three get out and walk over to Derek and Emily who is with a woman.

"Detective Tay Benning, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner and SSA Y/N."

"Hi, this is William Hightower. He's gonna help us on the ground. Will, these are agents Prentiss and Morgan. We should split up and cover male and female potential victims."

We'll take the men," Derek says.

"I'll make introductions for you," Will offers.

"Stay close to your phones. If anyone's out of place, Detective Benning can get a name and a description of our patrol cars as quickly as possible."

You, Emily, and Hotch go off to talk to the women while Will, Detective Benning, and Derek talk to the men. This unsub is going to strike again with someone in this area soon whether that be tonight or tomorrow. He's stuck to a tight schedule in the past and you don't think he's going to deviate from that. Yes, it'd be much easier to approach a prostitute rather than a homeless man, so how is he doing it? The question is, why does he alternate victims in clusters of men and women? Why take the men at all if this has a sexual component to it?

The unsub sees these people as disposable, it doesn't matter if they're male or female. For a sexual sadist, male or female isn't important because the torture itself is the sex.

Unless sex has nothing to do with this.

With the photos that Will provided you with, you're able to go around and check off who is working on the street. There are only three people who have not been accounted for, and you go to Hotch once he's done with his section. Will had come back to Hotch after he made an introduction to Derek, so he is in the car with Hotch.

"We have three unaccounted for."

Hotch and Will get out of the car and approach some girls on the street with you and Emily by their sides.

"Excuse me, ladies, did you see any of these girls leave with customers?"

You show them the photos of the three girls.

"I saw Monica and Sasha leave with two men, but I don't know about Kelly."

"Do you know where they would go?"

"There's a parking lot down at Cass Park. The girls have their Johns park there."

Hotch walks away and dials Detective Benning to confirm this.

"What about Kelly? Is there a reason why you wouldn't have seen her leave?" you ask.

"I don't know. I could have been distracted."

"So, she was here before? Was there any reason she would sneak off?" Will asks.

"I don't know what she does. She's fresh meat out here."

"Okay," Hotch returns, "Detroit PD confirmed two prostitutes with Johns in the parking lot at Cass Park."

"We're short one girl."

"Did you know his sister, Lee Hightower?" you ask.

"Yeah, I knew her."

"Is there any place where she would have taken clients? Maybe somewhere the other girls wouldn't go?"

"She didn't do it normally. She'd try to get a real job but then she'd slip. Then about a month and a half ago, she said she was leaving."

"That's when I took her to my mom's," Will says.

"I haven't seen her since."

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 3 years

Text

Valentines Day for Nerds (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s favourite holiday is often taken up mostly by work, but this year his enjoyment doesn’t seem to be as disruptive in the BAU bullpen. The team soon realise why.

AN: It’s a bit late- who am I kidding? IT’S ALWAYS HALLOWEEN IN OUR HEARTS! This was a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, for the brilliant @agntprentiss <3

For my smut fic from the swap, check out A Little Indulgence (18+ only!)

Reader uses she/her pronouns!

Word count: 1.7k words

Gif credit to @imagining-in-the-margins <3

Your name: submit What is this?

The first breach of boredom was Penelope practically skipping into the bullpen, her arms cradling a bouquet of flowers as if it were an infant. The bold orange roses contrasted with the dyed black petals of its counterparts as they were planted upon Spencer’s desk.

“Delivery for Doctor Reid!” trilled Penelope, clapping her hands now that they were free of said delivery. Dropping his pen onto his unfinished paperwork, Spencer pivoted the base of the bouquet before he found a small black envelope.

It held a little card with two pumpkins, happy faces carved into them both. Inside were the following words:

Black is for new beginnings,

Orange is for enthusiasm,

Spooky times are afoot tonight,

Watch out for ectoplasm!

I spent ten minutes trying to think of a rhyme for that. Happy Halloween, Cara Mia!

Y/N xxx

Spencer beamed as he placed the bouquet at the edge of his desk, next to the fake severed hand that now held the card in its stiff fingers. He scratched his bristly cheek. Less than a day until he could shave this off. It’d be worth it though.

“Is it from Y/N?”

He looked up to see Penelope had lingered like a lost spirit, waiting to see if her trials of passing on the bouquet had been worthy enough for her to move onto the next world – her Batcave. She was poised with a hopeful expression.

“Yes,” Spencer said, watching Penelope lean up on her tiptoes as she tried to rein in her delight.

She clapped her hands, her purple painted nails clicking as they tapped together, “Are my two favourite ghost hunters up to much this Hallow’s Eve?”

“We’re going to see the Phantasmagoria re-enactment after we go trick-or-treating with Henry tonight.”

It was hard to ignore the absolute glee with which Spencer spoke. Even if one completely ignored the way his voice carried a light excitement, the way his eyes lit up and his broad smile almost fell off his face was enough to connote that he was very excited for tonight. It was also hard to ignore the mild bemusement on the faces of everyone who heard.

Glad to be back and bearing witness to his elated behaviour regardless, Emily cracked a smile, “Maybe she’ll cling to you when she gets scared.”

A heat crawled up Spencer’s neck and he tried to return to work now in hopes that his gift’s display would be cut off. He’d rather sit in the glow of receiving the flowers without mockery.

To the team’s credit, no one ribbed him for it.

The flowers were not the last gift though.

Soon Penelope reappeared, “Your Cupid has returned with another gift for you!”

As he tore at the paper and revealed an Edgar Allen Poe pin – the titular Raven he instantly attached it to his satchel strap – in pride of place, just like the bouquet.

Derek was the one to notice how Spencer’s sandwiches had been cut into little pumpkins. Some digging and Spencer revealed that he had gotten Y/N to order a cutter online. He held his lunch in one hand, his collection of classic Halloween short stories in the other, with a childish glee that no one wanted to squander.

When Spencer climbed the steps to drop off a file to Hotch around mid-afternoon, Rossi walking behind him noted the brand-new socks. A classic odd pairing, and obviously they were Halloween themed. This kid left no opportunity untaken when it came to celebrating Halloween – more than his own birthday.

But Rossi was not closed enough to get a good look at them, and no one else was as close. So, he recruited Emily and Derek to discover what the pattern was. It was Emily and Derek who upped the stakes by wanting to get a glimpse without arousing suspicion. Now that outright asking Spencer was not an option, the game began as they dropped several pens as an excuse to bend over and strain for a flash of those socks.

Derek eventually resorted to a pantomime attempt at tripping in front of Spencer’s desk and gave the jig up straight away by shouting to a stressed Emily (whilst also catching the attention of Hotch through his office’s blinds): “IT’S IT!”

A few language barriers hurdled later, and hindsight brought them both clarity. The red splodge on Spencer’s ankle was officially defined as a balloon.

“So tell us! What’s the other one?” Emily said, her voice strained with how much she was invested in this single sock.

Spencer hiked up his trouser leg to display the skeletal zombie sewn into the sock. “It’s Curtis Danko from When Good Ghouls Go Bad. Y/N had it commissioned for me!”

JJ was watching nearby, unaffected by the tensions of the sock bet. She knew the film because Y/N had wanted to show it to Henry the other week when she babysat him. But upon further inspection, the R.L. Stine film – while intended for kids – might be a little intimidating for Henry to watch without his profiler mother and godfather, police officer father, and favourite auntie there to protect him from the cursed statue.

No one else in the bullpen knew the film.

The team soon discovered that Spencer was not the only one to be on the receiving end of such gifts. Six o’clock rolled around and Y/N entered the bullpen. She was wearing a fuzzy black scarf, some sparkles shining within the wool. At the tail of it, a lucky black cat patch was sewn onto the end. It caught Rossi’s eye and he hid behind a folder as he smiled. The three times that Spencer had forgone a card game with him (in favour of knitting the scarf on the flights back from cases) had been riddled with playful teasing. It was good to see that it was worth it.

Especially when Spencer saw Y/N wearing it and his back snapped straight up. His chair flew backwards, spinning around with the effort that Spencer had launched himself from it, and he and Y/N embraced each other with casual affection.

“How was work today?”

“Not as boring as I thought. But, I have to say: I’m meant to call you Cara Mia.” Spencer’s eyes darted to the card Y/N had sent that morning.

Y/N caught onto his meaning, “Should I stop?”

“Never.”

She rubbed her nose against his and Spencer went pink again, giggling like a teenager. True, he was as smitten with Y/N as Gomez was with Morticia. Then he remembered he was in the workplace as Y/N went to greet the rest of the team, and Spencer’s pink became a scarlet.

“Aww, Pretty Boy,” Derek grinned at him from his desk chair, “You’re so cute!”

“It’s like Sergio!” Emily said, admiring the scarf with her thumb rubbing over the stitches around the cat patch.

“Make sure he’s safe tonight,” Y/N squeezed her hands for a second.

Then JJ appeared from her office, coat and bag over her arm, and she, Y/N, and Spencer wished the bullpen a Happy Halloween before they left.

They had three hours before the Phantasmagoria started. Plenty of time to get ready.

Henry was right behind the front door of his home. The second it opened, he bounced at Spencer’s feet, his tiny hand clutching onto two of his fingers to drag him inside. He was babbling away at such speed that Y/N could barely keep up. She gave Will a wave across the ironing board where he was diligently ironing Will’s cape.

“Well don’t you look handsome!” Y/N beamed at Henry while JJ combed his hair back, slick with gel. It was something he agreed to but only if Spencer was doing the same. Which he was, occupying the downstairs bathroom as he prepared his own costume.

The moment Spencer had finished shaving everything bar the moustache, he was plonked in front of the television. Henry smoothed out his cloak and put in his plastic fangs in to watch the rest of his new favourite Halloween film, The Little Vampire. He mumbled along with Rudolph’s lines and sat enraptured as he pointed out to Spencer the flying scenes. Luckily for him, Will and JJ were getting dressed as Frederick and Freda Sackville-Bagg upstairs to join in the Halloween spirit – last year’s Halloween date night disaster long forgotten.

Henry put in his plastic fangs and hissed at Y/N who emerged in her long sleek black dress. As she stepped across the room as elegantly as Morticia, Spence spied that she was wearing the black spiderweb tights he had bought her today.

“Hello, Gomez,” She smiled radiantly at Spencer, smoothing out his suit jacket as he stood before her. He presented her with a red rose that matched her lipstick to a tee.

As she breathed in the flower’s scent, he kissed her cheek, enjoying her giggle at the bristle of his ‘stache, “You’re stunning.”

“Thank you, and you’re handsome as ever.” She swung their linked hands between them in the opposite way she poised on her tiptoes. “Maybe we should have taken a tango class.”

And she laughed loudly at Spencer’s wincing at such a thought.

“It’s ok, Cara Mia. I’ll settle for a kiss instead.”

Oh, that was something he could do forever. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles then the inside of each wrist.

Unfortunately, Henry interrupted the stream of kisses that were headed in Y/N’s way. “Ready to go!” He skipped his way between the happy couple.

It was hard to be mad at Henry, especially with how adorable he looked beside his parents and with his bright orange pumpkin bag ready to collect candy. He felt safe with his four favourite adults guarding him.

“Tonight,” Y/N whispered into his ear and he could hear the smirk in her words, “After the Phantasmagoria.”

Spencer beamed, his dimples delightfully framing that smile. One day maybe, they would have their own Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert to join them. And maybe then Derek would dress up as Uncle Fester.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #fic swap #r: female #wc: 1k+

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alexa-crowe · 3 years

Note

Hey, loaf! Based on that post from the other day, would you be up for writing something where Scully finds out she is infertile in s2?

Yeah, I can do that for you, loaf. 💓 I definitely took this prompt and ran away with it kjsdhfjsdhf. The first section fulfills the prompt but the rest leads into an AU because I decided that I don’t want to hurt my Scullybaby <3.

Branched

The doctors all agreed that once her body readjusted, her menstrual cycle would follow suit. It was irregular before due to birth control but she’s been off it since she was... Scully hates to even think the word. It’s been months since Mulder stopped looking at her as if a simple hand on her back could break her, and her menstrual cycle isn’t even irregular—she just doesn’t have one anymore.

It’s baffled all the doctor’s she’s seen. Scully writes it off as an effect of whatever experiments were done to her and accepts her doctors’ conclusions that there’s nothing to be done about it unless she’s interested in having children.

The idea hasn’t crossed her mind much, aside from a distant yearning when she’s with her godson. She always assumed that she’d have kids one day after she fell in love with the right guy. Scully doesn’t know what she wants for her future anymore. All she knows is that she wants justice, and she wants the truth—both for herself and for Mulder.

Her newfound infertility is...something. She doesn’t want more pity. If she was stifled after her—if she was stifled before, Scully can only imagine that if she tells Mulder and her family that she can’t get pregnant it’ll be worse. The—what happened to her is something she can move on from, but this is not.

—

She’s experiencing early menopause, her doctor declares. It seems so final. She cries herself to sleep and goes into work the next day as if the shards of her future haven’t been ground to dust.

Though she’d tried not to give any of this much thought, she’d somehow assumed that the chip had been inhibiting the release of her ova for an unknown reason—maybe propagation is counterintuitive to Their agenda, who knows—but to find out that she didn’t have any, that all her chances at motherhood were gone... It’s a grief unlike any other.

—

Allentown. The name sends shivers down her spine if she so much as thinks of it. Flashes of her abduction (say it say it say it, don’t let them control you, you’re stronger than the trauma) and the knowledge that all the women at the MUFON meeting had chips and fertility issues and cancer... She takes off the next day and books an appointment with an oncologist.

The scans come back negative. The women said it could take up to two years to appear, though. Scully prays to God that it never happens.

—

She’ll never be a mother. Some days it hits harder than others. Some days she wishes that she could lay her head down and wake up in a world where she and Mulder have the lives they always wanted. She feels so violated and so disrespected, some days. On those days, she lashes out at Mulder, tries to leave him and this life of lies behind, but she can’t.

He’s not someone she can just walk away from.

These are the days that she smokes. These are the days that she calls up Ellen and asks for all the gossip she’s amassed. These are the days she gets drunk over the phone with her friend and spills secrets that no one else gets to know. Trent’s turning eight, Danes. I’m infertile, El. It’s funny how the person she sees the least knows the most about what’s happened to her.

These are also the days when she hits the town and drinks until she forgets. Sometimes she’ll go home with someone for the night and leave early in the morning, Mulder on her mind. He doesn’t know. He can’t know. It would break him even though it’s not about him, even though it’s not his fucking life.

—

She wakes up to a nosebleed and prays to God that he’ll give her a few more months to live. Just until Mulder’s ready, she thinks, tears running down her face as she holds a wad of tissues to her nose. Just until he’s ready to let go. He’s been such a constant in her life, such a tether. When things get bad, they go their separate ways, but they always come back to each other and find their balance.

It makes sense for him to be the first person to see confirmation of her cancer. It feels like the final blow. First, they take away her ability to make life, and then they take away her own life. She’s made her peace with it.

Mulder hasn’t—he refuses to do so. Standing there in the hospital hallway days later, Scully lets herself love him. His lips are soft against her chapped ones and her edges feel burned and frayed, but his love keeps her together.

“I found something, Scully,” he murmurs when their kiss has faded into an embrace with her head on his chest.

Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I found your ova.” There’s so much going on in that four letter sentence that it bowls her over.

“You—you did?”

“I took as many vials as I could and got them into a freezing container. I shipped them off to the Gunmen before I came here. They can keep them safe for when you get better.”

Scully’s chin starts to tremble and she presses her face into Mulder’s chest. “What if I never do?”

He cups her cheeks and gently makes her face him. “I won’t let that happen.”

She wants to believe him with all her heart. “I want to believe...” she whispers, a tear streaking down her cheek.

“Give me your fear,” he tells her, “and believe. I need you to believe.”

She nods against his chest.

—

Scully cries when she gives him the news of her remission, pulling Mulder into her embrace and showering his head with kisses and thank yous. He’s given her a second chance at life, but more than that, a chance at motherhood.

(“Dana, I have excellent news for you: your cancer is shrinking. You’re going into remission.” And then, when the shock and the joy had run their immediate courses: “It also seems that, in due time, your menstrual cycle will resume, so no worries on that end.”)

It’ll be months before she can truly start the process but she already feels lighter than ever before.

—

She waits a week after her return to work to ask him. They’re at his apartment, Scully curled against him as the movie’s credits roll. “Mulder,” she whispers, checking to see if he’s asleep.

“Hm?” He rolls his head to crack his neck.

“Will you make a baby with me?”

He looks down at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“I’ve been seeing a fertility doctor, a friend of mine. She’s examined the ova—along with several of her colleagues—and declared them viable.” Scully can’t keep the tremulous smile off her face as she gives him the news. “She said that I just have to secure a donor to begin the treatment plan. I want that donor to be you. I mean, you practically threw yourself at me in Home last year...”

She traces her finger along the back of his hand, looking away to give him some space. After a moment, he says, “You want me to...to be part of that equation?”

Scully takes a deep breath and sits up so that their faces are level, shaking her head. “I want to have kids with you.” She maneuvers one leg between his thigh and the arm of the couch so she’s straddling him, and sits down on his thighs. “I want you to be the father of my kids.”

Mulder gazes at her like a lost puppy until she reaches out to wipe away a tear trailing along his cheek. “Me?”

She nods and cups his cheeks. “You.”

He nods with her, a smile spreading across his lips. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Yeah.”

They’ve been reduced to monosyllabic words in their joy, giving up on words all together as they fade into deliriously happy teary-eyed laughter. Scully leans forward and kisses him.

—

To no one’s surprise and Bill’s chagrin, she tugs Mulder along to her family’s Christmas gathering at her brother’s place in San Diego. Emily’s existence only reaffirms their decision to do IVF together and their relationship. They’ve been more of a team than ever, and perhaps that’s what saves Emily in the end.

Mulder and Scully put off all the major changes they were planning to make in favor of giving Em time to adjust to her new life. She clings to them until she gets familiarized with everything, until “Dana” and “Mul’er” phase into “Mommy” and “Daddy”.

He learns how to make chocolate chip pancakes with his eyes half-closed at six in the morning. They both learn car seats like the back of their hands. They get used to this new life where the only reason they wake up in the middle of the night is to comfort their daughter and not board a red-eye flight for a case.

—

Scully’s known that Mulder’s a thorough person when he wants to be since they met. What she didn’t know is that he’s also extremely sappy. He kisses her frequently for no reason in the office, and his porn mag collection has been replaced by a stack of books on IVF and pregnancy and childhood developmental stages. He has a calendar tacked to the wall next to his door with all the important dates on it.

They tell Skinner about their relationship and the IVF in confidence, filling him in on all the relevant things to their decision to leave the X-Files. The department must go on, but they can’t be the ones to breath life into them with Emily and a baby. Skinner says he knows “some excellent agents” that can fill their roles.

Mulder goes with her to every appointment, even if he can only sit outside in the waiting room until he’s called in. He holds her hand during every comprehensive pregnancy test that’s done, and kisses away her tears when they come back negative.

They look at apartments together when they find the time between Emily and their new assignments, and sometime between moving in and starting Em with her new pre-school, something wonderful happens. When the test comes back positive, they both start crying at the clinic.

“Mulder...”

“Scully...”

—

“You’re really okay with passing on the torch?” she asks in bed that night once Emily’s sacked out.

He nods against her forehead, his hand on her belly. “I’ve spent my whole life looking for Samantha, but I’ve never let her move on. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she’s dead. Maybe I’ll never find out. But I can’t pursue the answer to the question of what happened to her at the cost of everything else. You’re the one who taught me that there’s more to life than trying to solve mysteries.”

Scully nuzzles his nose. “You taught me something, too.”

“Oh?”

“You taught me how to have the courage to believe.”

#mine #txf #fanfiction #bryony you asked for something simple and i gave you a wholeass au 😭😭#hdsjskshjdd i couldn’t help it

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

the pleasures of the elder.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the people have spoken, and they all love sean hotchner. this fits after mean it in the joyful future universe, but no context is actually required to enjoy a little bit of sibling rivalry. title comes from jane austen’s quote: “the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.”

words: 3k warnings: language, alcohol use, sex mention, jealous!aaron, perceptive!sean

summary: when he arrives for an impromptu visit, sean knows his brother too well to give him any moment’s peace - especially when it comes to you.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed

A man, both very handsome and vaguely familiar, pushes through the glass doors and walks across the bullpen - a visitor's badge pinned proudly to his leather jacket. You try to place him, but come up short.

You’re alone, for the time being. Almost everyone is off running some kind of last-minute errand around the federal building - making copies, finishing paperwork, or in a meeting (in Hotch’s case). It’s the last dregs of the day, the sun setting over the river.

The man stops in front of your desk. “Hi. Are you part of the BAU, or am in the wrong place?” His eyes are bright, roaming over your face with a kind of curious, warm, knowing air.

You smile at him, and before you can answer -

“Sean!” JJ’s fond tone carries across the bullpen, and she arrives with an armful of cases.

Sean?

Oh my god.

Sean Hotchner.

“Hey, JJ, right?”

She laughs, sounding a little younger than she is. You can’t blame her. Sean is exceedingly handsome in an entirely different direction than his older brother. And if your memory serves correctly, just a year older than you. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you.” He offers her a hand, and she shifts her files to take it. His handshake is firm, and lasts just a moment too long.

You kick back in your chair, almost inviting him to lean against your desk. “Hotch is in a meeting, if you’re looking for him. He should be out in,” you check your watch, “about five minutes.”

Sean turns back to you, his shockingly blue eyes meeting yours. “Thanks.” He smiles at you again, and you’d be lying if you said your heart was doing normal things in your chest. “Sean Hotchner. I’m Aaron’s - sorry, Hotch’s - little brother.”

Those eyes are dangerous.

Oh, poor Aaron.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.”

Just as you suspected moments ago, he takes the initiative and leans against your desk. JJ hovers nearby, a little smile on her face. You watch as she sends a quick text, and puts her phone back on her belt.

Gotta tell the girls...

“So,” he starts, brisk and businesslike, “you definitely weren’t here during my last visit. What’s your story?”

“Well, if you must know -“

“I must.” He flashes you another smile, and you can only imagine all the trouble he caused growing up. Or, rather, you can imagine all the trouble he would have caused if his brother wasn’t around to bail him out. Five years ago, you would have been drawn into his pretty eyes and wide smile. Now, you can only see a boyish, overt, almost-inelegant version of the understated warmth you love in Aaron.

You give him a quick rundown of your history: hometown, alma mater, etc. “- I was an academy grad in 2007, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Ah, so not a newbie anymore. And you’ve worked with my brother the whole time?” He almost looks impressed. His glance down to your ringless left hand doesn’t escape your notice.

Oh Sean, if only you knew.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked under Hotch for five years now.”

And I’ve worked over him for about three months. Also under him, around him, on the couch, in the kitchen, etc.

Shut up.

C’mon. It’s funny.

A low whistle leaves him as you bite back a smile. “Damn. I’m so sorry. He’s a real hardass.”

You lean in conspiratorially, and you’re almost cheek-to-cheek as he leans down to listen. “You know, that’s what I hear, but -”

Penelope bursts through the doors and calls your name, carrying an armful of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with the work going on upstairs. Emily is close behind her, an amused grin on her face.

Sean leans back so you can finally see her. “Yeah?”

“I have these for - Oh, hi Sean!” She says it like she hasn’t already decided her primary objective is to get his attention.

“Hey!” He looks over at her, one finger up to stop her in her tracks. “Wait, don’t tell me. Garcia, right?”

“Penelope,” JJ supplies helpfully.

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it. You’re almost certain he winks at her, and she smiles through the blush rising on her cheeks.

He really is a heartbreaker, huh?

Aaron must have had his work cut out for him.

Derek rounds the corner and immediately rolls his eyes at the scene before him. Sean has his body angled toward you (in your chair, completely open, with your chin in your hand) while he shakes Penelope’s hand. JJ pretends to do work off at her desk behind yours, but she’s completely tuned into the conversation. Emily’s sitting on her own desk off to the side, watching the whole thing with a certain degree of good humor.

“Sean, good to see you, man.” Derek walks over and takes Penelope under his arm. It’s almost possessive, and you almost laugh.

Sean releases Penelope’s hand and takes Derek’s. “Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?”

Their bro-to-bro catch-up fades into the background as you see Hotch appear on the breezeway by his office. You look up at him before pointedly glancing at Sean beside you. He sighs, then calls, “Sean.”

The man in question turns, and a smile breaks out over his face when he sees his brother. There’s something cocky about it, and you don’t miss the way his body language remains keyed into you as he speaks. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Aaron takes another deep breath and walks down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come see my big brother at work?”

Aaron’s eyebrow is dubious at best. “What do you need?”

Sean laughs, and it reminds you enough of Aaron’s that it draws a wide smile from you. You find yourself looking fondly up at Sean, seeing more of the resemblance now that they’re beside each other. Aaron’s jaw flexes. You notice.

Oh, see, now this is fun.

“I was just in town and figured I’d stop by to see if you were here or out on a case.” Sean glances down at you with another charming smile before looking back at his brother. “I guess I got lucky.”

He’s just full of those smiles, isn’t he?

JJ jumps in. “We’re actually planning on going out to drinks once we wrap up in a couple of minutes. You’re more than welcome to come.”

While JJ pulls attention elsewhere, you glance up at Hotch and throw him a wink. Hey. Relax.

His jaw relaxes just a touch, and his lips twitch. As usual, he covers it by crossing his arms over his chest. Don’t be a shit.

You wet your lips and purse them a little. Nice try.

He shifts, just a little, raising an eyebrow. You’re really gonna go there?”

Watch this. You toss him a quick smile. “That would be great!” You brush Sean’s sleeve as you unnecessarily reach over him for Penelope. “What do you think, Pen?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Penelope takes your hand, squeezes it, and looks up at Derek. “Wouldn’t we?”

Derek nods. “We’d love to have you, man. It’ll be good to hear what you’ve been up to in New York.”

Aaron does his best to suppress his eye roll. You’re lucky he loves you, childish antics and all.

+++

When you split up into your respective cars, Sean elects to ride with you over his brother. You and Hotch play the role of designated drivers. You’ve fallen into the routine, finding it's much easier to sneak around your coworkers as they get more and more inebriated through the evening.

Aaron doesn’t look too happy with the ride arrangements, but he lets it slide. Dave and Emily ride with him, while you have Derek, Penelope, and JJ in the car with you and Sean.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust Sean.

Logically, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He woke up this morning to your patient, adoring eyes and your hands playing with his hair. You ate breakfast together (read: sat in his lap with a bowl of cereal while he read his emails), were (almost) late due to your showering arrangement, and only parted after a (very) good kiss in the driveway.

Still though, he can’t quite shake the insecurities he always felt with his brother. Thirteen years his junior, Sean always seemed to excel in every social pursuit. Music, girls, friends - he was able to settle into things Aaron always struggled with. It was stupid. Aaron was well into his thirties when Sean was in undergrad, but that prickle of envy never seemed to fade.

Their mother never put the pressure on Sean the way she did on Aaron, and in some ways it made sense. He was a teenager when their father passed, and Sean was hardly a child. More responsibility, more weight, less credit.

Aaron might be his mom’s pride and joy, even to this day, but Sean will always be her baby.

Thus, watching Sean easily weasel his way into one of your smiles wore on almost thirty years of tension.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Emily asks, tapping Hotch’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Upon making contact, she snorts. “Wow, you’re really tense.”

Hotch shakes his head and shrugs her off. “I’m alright.”

It’s Dave’s turn to snort. “No you’re not. You’ve been scowling since Sean showed up.”

“He just has that effect on me. Always has.”

“C’mon, Aaron.” Dave says. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. “He’s just a kid.”

With a flat deadpan, Aaron replies, “He’s thirty.”

Emily leans forward on the center console, inserting herself into the conversation. “Hotch, you don’t have anything to worry about. Sean doesn’t have anything on you.” She bumps his shoulder with hers.

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Emily and Dave share a look and a little smile.

+++

You hop out of the car, swinging your keys in your hand. Hotch is a couple of spots down from you in the parking lot, and your little groups meet up somewhere in the middle. Falling back, you let Derek and Emily lead the way. When they’re all in front of you, Sean included, you press your shoulder to Aaron’s for just a moment.

“Are you going to be childish?” he says, quietly.

You suppress a smile. “You’re fun when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Alright.” Your hand snags his for just a moment, before you jog forward to catch up to the rest of the group.

“There you are!” Sean’s voice rings out, and you let him tuck you under his arm. You wrap an arm around Sean’s waist and chance a look back to grin at Aaron.

Gotcha, babe.

Aaron rolls his eyes so loudly you can see it from twenty feet away. Ridiculous.

I love you.

I know.

+++

You’ve all managed to secure a table. While not incredibly crowded, there are plenty of people around. You planted yourself next to Aaron, and Sean planted himself next to you. The music is just loud enough to encourage dancing without requiring a shout to communicate.

Derek downed his first drink and led Penelope on the floor within ten minutes of your arrival.

The round table is crowded, and your pinkie locked in Aaron’s belt loop goes unnoticed. He stretches his arm out behind you to clap Sean’s shoulder, and his fingers quickly trace across your shoulders as he pulls it back.

“So what have you been up to, Sean?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He pulls from the drink in front of him and you’re almost certain it’s just a Coke.

Sober? Getting there?

Remind me to get the skinny on that later.

10-4.

Aaron chuckles darkly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Sean shrugs, and leans back, checking out the dance floor. You pull your pinkie from Aaron and put both of your hands on the table. Emily’s looking a little too watchful tonight, and you’d hate to lose your bet.

Your money is on making it more than six months without alerting the team you’ve been sleeping together. Aaron, always of little faith, took the alternative.

“Dance with me?” Sean offers you a hand, and you take it. Before you get too far, you lean across Aaron to take another sip of your drink. When you lose your balance (on purpose), Aaron steadies you with a hand around your waist, making sure you’re settled on your feet before you jet off with Sean.

“Thanks, Hotch!”

He takes a long pull from his beer - his only drink for the evening. Hotch. Gimme a break.

“Looks like they’re hitting it off great,” JJ says with a laugh. “That works out. I mean, Sean’s about our age, right?”

Don’t remind me.

“Yep. Turned thirty last month.” Aaron does his best to not sound too bitter.

JJ smirks at Emily, who turns to smirk at Dave. They don’t know what they don’t know, but they certainly know enough to keep an eye on Aaron for the rest of the evening.

“That’s in-flight entertainment, baby.” Emily whispers to JJ. “I can’t wait to tell Will. He’s going to die laughing.”

JJ lets out a peal of laughter. “Absolutely.”

Out on the floor, you’re having way too much fun, sandwiched between Derek and Sean. You pull Penelope between you and Derek, and loop an arm over Sean’s shoulders.

“So,” he says, his lips close to your ear and his voice barely audible over the music, “how long have you been sleeping with my brother?”

You freeze for just a moment, but it’s a moment too long to recover. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Question in response to a question? That’s like profiling 101.”

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

Sean rolls his eyes. “He’s halfway in love with you, if not completely fucked, in case he’s failed to tell you.” He spins you out, and back in so your back is against his chest.

“We’ve got that covered, yeah.” You twist in his arms. “You gonna do anything about it?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s pretty funny to get him all worked up, though, don’t you think?” Another bright smile crosses his face and his blue eyes seem to glow in the dim light.

“Oh, Sean. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” You laugh and reach for him again, but a finger appears in your belt loop. Derek pulls you back toward him by the hip. He’s stupid strong, and you can only tumble back into him with another laugh.

You’re sweaty, sober, and having way too much fun.

“Careful, kid. I think Hotchner has a crush.” Derek’s playful jab is warm against your ear as you fall in with him, cheek-to-cheek.

“What can I say?” You ask. “I’m irresistible.”

Derek throws you under his arm in a spin and you land back at his chest with the wind knocked out of you. “He’s gotta get in line though.”

“Oh?”

“I think his big brother’s gonna give him a run for his money?”

That’s enough for you. “Gimme a break, Morgan.” With a laugh, you shove at Derek’s chest and leave the floor. Returning to the table, you sidle up to Aaron again. “Hey, Hotch. Having fun?”

He gives you a weak glare out of the corner of his eye and takes a sip of his beer. “A blast.”

“Couple more hours, if that, then we’ll be home.” You drop your voice, almost whispering into your glass as you take another sip.

Aaron nods. “Can’t come soon enough.”

The rest of the team gets more and more sloshed as the evening progresses, and you can get away with a lot more. That said, Sean’s eyes are playful, sober, and more than a little amused.

“What did my brother say to you?” Hotch murmurs, under his breath. The girls went to the bathroom (and to call Spencer a cab home) while Derek and Sean posted up at the bar, itching for an excuse to give some asshole the what-for.

You bump his shoulder. “Just that you’re half in love with me, if not already completely fucked.”

He heaves a sigh. “Can’t catch a break.” You link your pinkie through his belt loop again. “He’s right, though.”

“How’s that?” You look up at him and you know he can see how much you love him.

“I’m completely fucked.”

If any of your team members wonder what’s so fucking funny, they don’t ask. It’s just good to see Hotch smiling again.

+++

At the end of the night, you drop Sean back off at the hotel on your way home. He’s the last in your car, so he can speak his mind with a certain degree of freedom. You idle in front of the building for a moment, just enjoying the silence.

“Hey.”

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great in-law. Just wanted you to know that I’m here for it.” He offers you a hand. You shake it and it almost feels like you’re making some kind of gentleman’s agreement. “Take care of him. He needs it.”

“Oh, don't worry. I know.”

The smile you share is that of a pair of co-conspirators, of siblings, of friends.

We’ll do just fine, you and I.

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#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #sean hotchner #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Kittens

I wrote something along these lines as an idea a while ago and I finished it now in-between breaks I’ve allowed myself between an essay I have to write. I figured it’s not my best but no one gets hurt and Hotch talks to a cat for the majority of it so it’s not that bad

The creaking of the old floorboards stops Hotch from going down the hall and checking to make sure Jack is up. He stands for a moment at the mouth of the hallway, listening to Jack curse and mumble under his breath. Most of which, he can’t hear but there are dips in Jack’s voice which allow for only certain words to float their way down to him.

“Where-- that little motherfu-- he’s going to-- shit, shit, shit--”

Hotch huffs a little laugh, a chuckle that makes no more than the whisper of a breath of noise leaving his mouth. Parenting doesn’t make much sense and Hotch is certain he’s probably supposed to say something to Jack about the cursing but to his credit, Jack hasn’t spoken like that in Hotch’s presence. Plus, it would make him a hypocrite to get too frustrated over it. He cursed at sixteen and he still does. He also smoked and got into all kinds of trouble and, as far as he knows, the most Jack gets into on a Saturday night is too many energy drinks and a new book.

As curious as Hotch is about whatever it is that Jack is fussing with, Hotch has to get breakfast ready. He turns and starts to walk to the kitchen. That’s where he’s headed when he sees something small and orange bolts ahead of him. Glancing over his shoulder, in the direction it had come from, Hotch finds nothing. Just the light peeking out from behind Jack’s door.

Hmm. Odd.

Hotch continues down the hall, looking around the floor as he goes. Trying to see what it was and where it went. Until he gets to the kitchen. “Oh,” Hotch raises an eyebrow at the kitten he finds sniffing the floor near the oven. A tiny orange kitten. He picks it up, observing it as he turns it around to inspect the tiny thing.

It looks up and him and gives a little irritated meow.

“You must be motherfucker,” Hotch says, rubbing a finger over its head. “I think Jack is looking for you.” Hotch smiles as the kitten purs, pushing its head under his finger for more. He indulges it and, he has to admit, the thing is cute. He doesn’t mind it. “Are you hungry?”

He goes to the fridge and inspects the findings… slim pickings. “Cats are lactose intolerant, right?” He looks down as the kitten squirms his arms. Rolling over it attacks his fingers but cradled to his chest it’s safe. “I don’t know anything about cats.” He’s never had any pets. Haley had an old dog named Bailey when they first got together. A border collie her father bought for her birthday years before from a farmer in town.

Growing up in the country he’d seen plenty of stray cats and dogs but he’d never had his own. There was a porch cat he used to feed bread to but his father scared it off and kicked it once. Hotch had looked so much like his father that the cat wouldn’t come to him anymore after that incident. That was probably for the best.

“Here,” Hotch finally settles. He pulls the almond milk out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. He adds the container of blueberries beside it. “I’m having oatmeal but I reckon you can probably have almond milk, right?” With a frown, he makes a mental note to ask Emily or Garcia about that. One of them is bound to know. For now, a little almond milk is probably fine. It doesn’t have milk in it but he wants to be certain.

Taking a bowl out of the cupboard, he hums and reaches over for the measuring cups. He’s been making oatmeal for years so he’s mastered the eyeballing it technique. However, the half-cup measuring cup is the perfect size for him to use as a bowl for the kitten.

“Has Jack got you any food?” he asks placing the kitten on the counter. He pours a little almond milk in the half-cup and smirks when the kitten takes to it immediately. “Well… you probably wouldn’t drink that if it wasn’t good for you, right?” Probably… well, maybe.

This feels exactly like when they brought Jack home. He and Haley had been terrified of every little thing. They were constantly calling someone about something. He can easily call Emily or Garcia but… he’s an adult, he can handle a kitten.

“Stay,” he orders stepping away from the counter to grab a pan. The kitten doesn’t move just stands contently where it is drinking the almond milk. Hotch gets the oatmeal going, keeping an eye on the kitten out of the corner of his eye. “You’re hungry,” he notes, with a tilt of his head. And when it looks up at him, almond milk all over its face, there’s no way he can deny how cute it is.

His oatmeal doesn’t take that long to make and distracted with watching the kitten it’s a nice easy pace. Bowl of oatmeal in his palm, angry kitten trying to escape from where it’s tucked between his chest and forearm, and the little cup of almond milk pinched between his fingers he sits down at the kitchen table. “What has he named you?” Hotch asks, settling it all down on the table. It occurs to him it could be a little strange to let the cat on the table but it is a cat so if it sticks around he assumes there will be lots of table sitting.

Hotch can’t remember what book Jack was reading last week-- which is chronologically his best guess at when his little friend here made its way into the house. With hindsight, he can recall Jack having been just a little more distant with him, secretive. Jack is also significant with his decisions so maybe Hotch should think more along the lines of Jack’s favorite books, not his most recent reads. Then again maybe Jack hasn’t named the cat or he chose something out of a song or a movie.

Looking up as he hears Jack’s door creak open, he scowls back down at his lap. The kitten having stretched up at his chest and bats at one of the buttons on his shirt. He taps its little paw warningly, just enough to jar it a little, and judging from the look he receives this little warning tapis nothing something it was expecting.

“Hey, dad.”

Hotch looks up and hums back, nothing unusual because he certainly isn’t going to give up the advantage he has right now. His son is a snarky little shit -- purely Emily’s doing -- and Hotch rarely gets moments where he comes out ahead of whatever jokes Jack (or Emily) can make at his expense.

Jack comes around and nods his head, timidly going about making himself some cereal. Hotch doesn’t comment on his son’s socks -- one is teal with bright, highlighters yellow bananas and the other is beige with pink polka dots. Hotch had given up on Jack and socks. Jack gets a little thrill out of this rebellion and Hotch should just be happy that it’s not worse.

The two of them really have nothing in common. Jack loves science and math (Hotch has to use a calculator for simple multiplication). Hotch prefers for each of his books to look like they have never even been read (Jack has so many sticky notes in his copy that Fahrenheit 451 that it looks silly). Jack refuses to carry around a planner and writes everything down on the back of his hand (Hotch has multiple planners and color codes things in delicate details).

“Oh.” Jack turns with his cereal in his hands and sees the kitten in his father’s lap. That bright orange over his black dress pants. Jack knew his father wouldn’t be mad -- he can count on one hand the number of times he has seen Hotch angry. Though, he knows what he’s done wasn’t the right course to take. He’s not so sure what to do now, he hadn’t planned this far ahead.

Hotch hums again, nodding his head.

Jack looks down at the floor and timidly takes his seat across from his father at the table. Tucking his legs underneath himself to avoid hitting Hotch’s much longer stretched-out legs. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about hitting his dad’s legs but today he’s sensing he should probably consider his actions a little more. “Am in trouble?”

Hotch raises an eyebrow and looks away from the kitten to his Jack. He’s looking down at his cereal, playing with it so he can avoid looking at Hotch. Jack’s never really been in trouble. Hotch is a little too lenient at times but even Jessica is pretty bad for that. Even so, Jack has turned out pretty okay, he’s still a kid (16 isn’t that grown, despite that being the age Hotch’s father kicked him out at -- well sent him to boarding school but that was only after he spent a month couch surfing and sleeping in a shitty tent he stole).

“No.” It’s a cat and he’s not mad and Hotch doesn’t see just yet where he could make this a learning opportunity so… he’s not going to make it a big deal. It’s hard, in situations like these, to know where normal discipline comes into play. His own father would have beat him senseless or locked him out of the house for a week, maybe longer.

“Oh.”

Hotch frowns, “do you think you should be?” He doesn’t mean it to bait Jack, he means it honestly. There isn’t a right answer.

Jack shrugs, “I mean, I don’t know.” Jack is aware that his father isn’t like most dads but they’re in a unique situation, the two of them. “You should probably lecture me about something, right? I mean, I don’t think I’ll be sneaking in any more cats but that’s not as a result of any lecture. I certainly wouldn’t do it with a dog.”

So maybe not a lesson learned but still sounds like there’s no point acknowledged. “Okay,” Hotch reasons. It sounds fair. “Well, next time we talk this sort of thing over, okay? I respect you and your decisions and so I ask for your opinions on things, right? I need you to respect my opinions.”

Jack nods.

“So, any names?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner

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fanfics4all · 4 years

Text

Pink

Request: Yes / No Hey can you do a soulmate au the reader dyes her hair crazy colors a lot and Spencer ends up having that color if that makes sense thank you 🖤❤️ @iwannadue

Send me a request, please look here first! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1863

Warnings: talk of tourture

Y/N: Your Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Prompt(s): If you dye your hair your soulmate’s changes too.

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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Masterlist

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

When I was growing up I desperately wanted to dye my hair. My parents were completely against that idea, even though that was literally the only way to find your soulmate. So after college and I decided to be a bartender I dyed my hair for the first time. I picked pastel purple and waited to see if anyone I knew had the same hair color. Sadly, there was no one with my same color. Soon I got bored with purple and went with a scarlet red. Again no one coming in and out of the bar had my hair color. None of my friends had my hair color, no one did. Again I soon got bored with the color, I dyed it to dark blue. Once again, nothing. I kept getting bored of my hair color and changing it every month or two.

Spencer’s POV

My Mother told me about soulmates growing up and how you find them. If you or your soulmate dyes their hair, your hair changes as well. As much as I wanted to find my soulmate, I didn’t have a desire to change my hair color. It seems my soulmate didn’t either. That was until I woke up with purple hair. I was getting ready for work when I noticed it. I groaned knowing that I didn’t have time to get dye and change it back to normal. I walked into the office and sighed, I didn’t want to hear everyone say things about my new found hair color.

“Oh pretty boy! Looks like your soulmate got their hands on some color!” Morgan said as I sat at my desk.

“Just ignore it, please.” I said and he chuckled.

“A little hard to do that since you have purple hair.” He said and I sighed.

“I’m well aware.” I said and started work.

Over the next few months my soulmate kept changing their hair color. I had every color there could be! I was kind of annoyed by it, but at the same time it made me happy knowing that they were probably a fun loving and outgoing person. Currently I had pink hair and we were on our way to West Virginia and I was always embarrassed by having unnatural colored hair on the job. But if I changed it back to my normal color, my soulmate would just change it back to whatever color they wanted. My team had gotten used to it, but it was still annoying.

“Our unsub has been kidnapping female bartenders, keeping them for four days tourching them and then killing them by strangling them with a belt.” Hotch said. I noticed that they all had unnaturally colored hair.

“Did any of them find their soulmate?” I asked.

“No, they were all looking for said soulmate.” Garcia answered.

“What if this guy is posing as their soulmate?” JJ said.

“That would make sense, girls desperate to find their person. It would be easy to take advantage of.” Emily said.

“Doesn’t really give us any leads, just that we’re looking for a guy with unnaturally colored hair.

“It’s a start.” Hotch said.

Y/N’s POV

I now had pink hair and I was starting to lose hope that soulmate was here. I was working my shift and that’s when I saw him. He was tall, skinny, he was dressed perfect for the club I worked at, and the same pink as me on his head. He noticed me and smiled, walking up to me.

“It’s you.” He said and I smiled.

“It’s you.” I said back and he chuckled.

“So you’re the one that’s been changing my hair color like crazy.” He said and I nodded.

“That would be me.” I said taking a small bow.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Jason, what about you beautiful?” He asked.

“Y/N.” I said.

“Well Y/N, when do you get off?” He asked and I checked the time.

“Two hours left.” I answered.

“Well, how about I take you out and we get to know each other in two hours?” He asked and I smiled.

“It’s a date.” I said and he nodded.

“I’ll be back then.” He said and I nodded.

“See you then.” I said and went to go help a customer.

Spencer’s POV

We’ve been here for two days now and the unsub got another girl. Morgan and I were going to the bar she worked at to see if anyone that worked there saw anything. When we got there the manager greeted us.

“Y/N was working at that bar with Krysta, she can tell you more than I can.” He said and we nodded.

“Great, thank you.” I said and we made our way to Krysta.

“Krysta?” Morgan asked and we showed her our badges.

“Are you here about Y/N? Is she okay?” She asked worried.

“Can you tell us what you saw the night she went missing?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah sure, We were working like normal and Y/N had just recently dyed her hair a new color, she’s obsessed with finding her soulmate since she couldn’t dye her hair while she was living with her parents. Anyway, some guy walked up to the bar and he had the same pink as she did, actually looked like the pink you have. They talked for a bit, but I didn’t hear, she told me when they finished that she was going on a date with her soulmate after her shift.” She said and my heart sank.

“Do you have any pictures of her by any chance?” I asked before Morgan could say anything.

“Uh, yeah on my phone.” She said and pulled up a picture. Sure enough we had the same exact pink hair.

“What other colors has she had?” I asked. Krysta swiped through her phone and she had all the same hair colors at the same time I did, this couldn’t be a coincidence. I looked over at Morgan and he knew what I was thinking.

“Can you tell us what the guy looked like?” He asked.

“Actually, I can show you.” She answered and told us to follow her. We followed her to the cameras and she showed us a video of Y/N and the guy.

“Did you ever notice him before this night?” Morgan asked.

“Not that I can remember.” She answered.

“Excuse me, I heard you two are with the FBI?” A man said walking up to us.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning, Mickey?” Krysta asked.

“Yeah, but I heard that the FBI was here investigating Y/N going missing.” Mickey said.

“What can you tell us?” I asked.

“That guy she was talking to the other night, I’ve seen him around here a few times. He was always watching her and he didn’t have the same color hair as Y/N until that night.” He said.

“So he was stalking her.” I said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Krysta asked him.

“I wasn’t working that night, remember? If I knew then I would have said something!” He said.

“Right, sorry…” She said and he nodded.

“Alright, thanks for the information.” I said as Morgan called Garcia.

“Hey babygirl, we have some security footage here with the guys face, can you work your magic?” He asked.

“Alright, we’re on our way, thanks babygirl.” He said and hung up.

“We gotta go. Garcia found the guy, the team is meeting us there.” He said and we rushed out.

We got there as fast as we could and the team showed up soon after. If this girl was really my soulmate I was extremely worried. Hotch sent me, Morgan, and himself to the front, while JJ, Emily, and Rossi were sent around back. Morgan kicked down the door and we stormed in.

“FBI!” He shouted and we searched the house. We heard Y/N scream and we rushed to the back room. Morgan kicked down the door and there was Jason slicing her arm open.

“You’re too late.” He smirked and Morgan tackled him.

“We need an ambulance.” I said putting my gun away and rushed to Y/N. I wrapped my hand around her arm to try and stop the bleeding. Hotch was untying her and she looked up to me.

“Pink hair.” She whispered before her eyes shut.

“Keep your eyes open Y/N!” I begged, but she didn’t open them. The paramedics came in and took her away. Hotch nodded at me to go with them.

Y/N’s POV

I woke up slightly in pain and looked around the room. I was in the hospital? So that wasn’t just a horrible nightmare… I sat up in pain and a doctor walked in.

“Hello Miss. Y/L/N, do you know why you’re here?” He asked and I nodded.

“I was kidnapped and tortured.” I said and he nodded with a sad smile.

“Well you injuries were manageable, we were able to patch you up.” He said and I smiled.

“Thanks Doc.” I said.

“You will be able to leave in a few days, we just want to keep an eye on you to be safe.” He said and I nodded again.

“I understand.” I said.

“Well, I’m just here to run a few tests to be safe then I can send in the visitor you have.” He said and I looked at him confused.

“A visitor?” I asked and he nodded with a smile.

“Alright.” I said and he ran the tests. After he was done he sent in whoever was here to see me.

“Um, hello…” A small voice said and I looked over to see a man with the same pink hair as me. I gulped and shrunk into myself a bit.

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and I’m with the FBI.” He said walking in a little bit closer. I looked at him for a moment and then it hit me.

“You were the one that was trying to stop the bleeding!” I said, feeling relaxed around him now.

“That was me.” He said with a smile.

“Your hair is also pink.” I said and he nodded.

“Um I think that’s because I’m your soulmate…” He said and I stared at him.

“No offence, but after what I just went through I’m not gonna trust your word.” I said and he nodded.

“Your co-worker Krysta show me pictures of you with all your hair colors with dates.” He said.

“Alright?” I said and he bit his lip. He took out his phone and showed me some pictures of him with the same colors at the same time I did and my eyes widened.

“I-It really is you?” I asked with tears in my eyes.

“It is.” He smiled. I pulled out all the needles and wires that were poking me and rushed up to him, ignoring the pain.

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I said and kissed him.

“This might not be the best time to say this, but can we agree on a normal color?” He asked.

“Lucky for you I’m not feeling pink anymore.” I said and kissed him again.

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#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds soulmate au #soulmate #soulmate au #fanfic #request

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years

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A helpless moment when you found me. -Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: It all starts with a few cups of orange juice, and ends with 1 liter of tears. Luke Patterson needs to find a way of winning her back into his life.

A/N: @beautifulblogsblog enjoy this little emotional Luke x Reader imagine, my very very emotional self put together. Thank you for suggesting this story. 🤗🤗

(GIF CREDIT TO OWNER)

It all started, when Sunset Curve started to get known by bigger audience. All the teenage girls were crazy over the four, cute boys; they even got called on TV to promote their album; sold t-shirts and played a few shows out of town. All in all, the bandmates succeeded in making it to the side of the buses, or on the lock screens of many phones.

Luke’s dream was to have his music, listened by many people around the world; and it worked, which had him talk about it for days. And it was all going well with him, until everything about his music career started to blind him. Bobby, Reggie and Alex were doing great, not too much dedicated into the music, well, not as much as Luke. It touched him so much, the need of his music being heard, as well as his name, that he even freshly made up from a fight with his mum. Emily and Mitch were understanding parents. At the beginning, they didn’t accept the idea of his 17-year-old son, playing in a rock band, but when they all sat down to talk about it, the wild waters calmed, and they were able to speak the same language.

Luke, wasn’t only lucky to have two amazingly supportive and understanding people in his life, but one more, who always had the time to sit down and listen to what he had to let out of his heart. She, who was his first text in the morning, and last text at night; she, who was his few missed calls; she, who was the whole sunshine he could need in his life. She, who loved him with her entire heart; more than herself. He was thankful. He was so thankful, until she became the person that would wait for him to text first or call first, rather than bothering him. She became the place he’d come to, if he needed a person to tell all his matters to. But what she became, that caused her the entire pain in the world, was becoming the one who always waited for him at the table they reserved for their date.

And, together with his promise of never letting her hanging again, Y/N hopefully waited at the table. Her sixth ordered cup of orange juice, had the orange line at the bottom of the cup, letting the waiter know, she had finished another one. Other than a big vase of flowers, and empty eating supplies; that once used to be filled with delicious food, now there was nobody else at the table. She checked the time, and he was now four hours late.

The amount of respect and love Y/N had for Luke, kept her sat on that chair for four hours. And she wouldn’t have even moved, if it wasn’t for the waiter who let her know that there’s a couple that reserved the table after them. She managed to pay him for the drinks, and her trembling body made it out of the now, least favorite restaurant on her list of date places she and Luke went to; well if he came, they would’ve had a great time and she wouldn’t have to put it at the least favorites, just like the one he left her the last time.

With the second time of leaving her hanging, Y/N thought he’d learned from the mistake he made and they wouldn’t need to argue with each other. This---this was another disrespect for her, and God knew where he was. No text, nor calls appeared from him, and it made her more worried, than mad that night.

And like for every person, there’s times where unluckiness catches us in a trap. Suddenly, all that happens that day or night, is bad. It not only ruins our day/night, but it ruins our life and us in whole. It started to pour. Immediately, it soaked Y/N to her bones, and the only escape she had, was to run in those puddles that formed in the cracks of the pavement, and hide under and awning of a bar that was not too far from where she was. Y/N pulled the sides of her jacket towards each other, trying to warm herself, by blowing and rubbing her hands together. The bar seemed to still be opened, but she couldn’t really be sure because it was hard to see from the foggy window. She wiped away the fogginess with her elbow, revealing a surprising picture; one, she couldn’t really believe. Luke, Reggie, Alex and Bobby, all gathered around a girl. Her hair strands, were stuck to her face, and her face was traced with water lines, but not from the rain; she was now, fully in tears. As if four hundred knives were stabbed in her back, Y/N turned her back, and stepped out in the rain---after what she saw, there was nothing that could hurt her more.

She was a slave to the heartache, and it controlled her in every way. Y/N’s broken figure, entered the empty hallway of her home, but luckily her parents were asleep to even see her in that state. And it was for their and her best, even Luke’s, because they were very protective over their daughter. She didn’t even change into pajamas, neither did she dry her hair. The covers were pulled over her body, and she was fast asleep, getting the warmth, of her cold body and warm breathing.

Like others say though, the mother instinct is never wrong. She was fast awake when she heard the doors open. Tip toeing away from her sleeping husband, so he doesn’t argue about leaving their so in love daughter, to live her teenage love years, she slowly opened the door of Y/N’s room. She quietly gasped at the state she was in, and sat on her bed, feeling the soaked clothes she was sleeping in. And it wasn’t only from the rain, but now from the sweating that soaked her pillow. Y/N was shaking, and her cheeks were burning red.

-Wake up, wake up! -she shook her husband. He jumped out of bed, and followed her to their daughters room.

-Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

No answer. The next thing, her dad picked her up and rushed to the car in his pajamas, her mother following him. The car drove away from their house, and her dad was driving fast to the hospital. He carried her in his hands, until the medical staff took care of her. She was frozen and her lips were bruised. They put a breathing mask immediately, and her heart rate was very low.

It was a nightmare of a night for the Y/L/N family, and it scared Y/N’s parents, that her mother had to also be taken care of. Her dad got himself a cup of tea from the canteen and sat outside the hospital room, waiting for his wife and daughter to get better. And he waited, until the doctor called him to his office.

-Y/N hadn’t eaten properly for days, and stress reacted even more. Also, she got soaked, which completed the state she is in now. Your daughter needs to eat, Mr. Y/L/N and stay away from stress as much as possible. It’s not a joke, it’s a life we’re talking about; a life of a young person. Here’s the pills she needs to drink for her curing. She’ll be held in the hospital for two days, then we’ll release her home.

Her dad bought the pills, as soon as he left the office. And the man wasn’t stupid, to not understand that the stress, might involve Luke as well. He didn’t call him though. If the boyfriend of her daughter, was wise enough to check up on his girlfriend, he would’ve called himself. So, he was back to waiting.

Luke on the other hand, was at home. Sweaty from the big performance he had to do that night. And, we would all blame him for leaving Y/N alone, but the reason behind him leaving her hanging, is heartwarming from one side for another person, but painful and risky for Y/N. He changed into clean, and dry clothes, and sat on his bed, to see what Y/N’s up to, and explain what happened, that he couldn’t even text, nor call her. No answer. He called her dad, her mum, but none of them answered. So, he went to bed thinking they’re all sleeping, though, something kept aching his heart, that he couldn’t close his eyes as soon as he placed his head on the pillow. He kept tossing and turning, but it didn’t work, until finally, he found the best position, and fell into a deep sleep.

Y/N’s mother woke up before her the next morning, and stayed listening to her daughter, repeating Luke’s name in her sleep. Though, she also didn’t want to call him, thinking the same way as her husband. Y/N didn’t still open her eyes, and as much as the doctors and nurses wanted to, and even tried waking her, she wasn’t waking up. Her mother now went to treat herself a cup of tea, after the night she had.

-Mrs. Y/L/N? -said a voice from behind her. She turned around with a confused expression, but it dropped when she saw Reggie; Luke’s bandmate, who she met once at a show the Y/L/N family went to, to support Luke.

-Hello Reggie. How are you?

-I’m great Mrs. Y/L/N, actually how are you, is there something wrong?

-Yes Reggie, there is. Y/N is going to be held here for two days. Yesterday she came home soaked, and got sick so we had to rush her to the hospital, because she couldn’t wake up.

-Ca-can I see her please? -his eyes were filled with tears and worry.

-Sure. Come with me. -she placed a hand on his shoulder and walked him to the hospital room. Unnoticeably, he sent and SMS to Luke, quickly sending away what happened to Y/N, hoping his friend will come to take care of his girl.

-Oh no, Y/N. -he said, taking a hold of her frozen hand.

After getting out of the shower, Luke finally looked at his messages, and it took him a second to slip his shoes on, and basically run to the hospital with his wet hair.

-Y/N Y/L/N! -he breathlessly said to the person at the register.

-Room 200. -she said, and he tapped the elevator button, but couldn’t wait for it, so he took the stairs. When he got to the hallway, where her parents were stood, his heart dropped at the scene. Both of them in pajamas still, with barely any sleep, because of him.

-Mrs. Y/L/N. -he said in tears.

-Go Luke, go next to her. We’ll talk about it later. -she rubbed his back, and he wiped away his tears, and entered the room, where Reggie was waiting, who jumped up and left, so he could be next to Y/N.

-Oh, my beautiful girl. I’m so sorry, it’s my fault.-he brushed away some hair from her face, and trailed his hand down her cheek. He took a hold of both of her hands, kissing them many times, and grabbing the sheets of the bed, so he could quietly cry in them. A warm line was traced under his eyes, and it disappeared at the corner of his eye.

-Don’t cry. -her raspy voice, made it to his ears, as his head shot up.

-Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry-

-Don’t be Luke.-she turned her head to the window, where her parents were stood. She blinked as an approval of them entering the room.

-Baby. -said her mother, and went to kiss her temple, followed by her dad. -How are you feeling?

-I’m feeling better. Can we go home now? -she lifted herself to sit up, but her mother pressed her down back on the bed.

-The doctor said two days. Tomorrow you’ll be home anyways.

-Fine then. Let’s follow what the doctor said, I guess. -she sent a sad smile towards her parents. They saw what the situation was, and left them alone, even though Y/N’s look begged them not to leave her alone with Luke.

-Can I explain myself? -he asked softly.

-Of course. -she positioned herself, so her back could rest against the pillow.

-We had to do this last minute show, Y/N. It was for a kid’s operation money for aboard, and they needed to be sent that night. They asked us, and we couldn’t say no to that poor family. For else, you know I wouldn’t repeat my mistakes.

-I’m glad the kid’s got operation money. Hope he’ll, heal as soon as possible.

-I’m so sorry, baby. -he said, wiping his tears away and rubbing his wet hands off his jeans, -I’ll leave you now, because it’s obvious you don’t want me here. I’ll come later again, love you so much princess.

She opened her mouth to talk, but Luke was out the door, and he stopped to look at her from the window, but she pretended as if she’s looking out the other window in the room.

-If you loved me, you could’ve at least stayed. I don’t want you to go. -she whispered through her tears. It was the most painful feeling of her life, listening to him say that she doesn’t want him. She wanted him. And it hurt her more and more, knowing he’d done something beautiful for another kid. But he sacrificed her life, and happiness. The part with the girl at the bar, stayed as a question mark in Y/N’s head.

Y/N’s dad had a talk with Luke, and when he explained everything that happened, he couldn’t only be on his side, rather as a father, he took Y/N’s side first, then giving the right to Luke.

-The choices you make in a relationship, you make for you and your loved one. A relationship is led by two people, and whatever they decided, it should never affect only one person. I know how much you love my daughter, it’s all written in your eyes kid. But I love her more than any other guy could ever love her. She’s a part of my soul, and even if one fiber gets damaged of her, I’ll ruin this world. Make up with her, please, I don’t want to see you grieving for each other. You’re a great couple, and it’s really sad to see her alone in that room over there.

It stayed with him the whole day, those words by Y/N’s father. He sat on his bed, and the only thing that couldn’t make him so helpless was writing. He took his music notebook, and started writing what he felt towards the girl, who was now being begged to eat. It worked after a few tries, but she was able to put some proper food into her system. Alex, Reggie and even Bobby came to visit her. Though, there was a girl waiting at the door; the same girl from the bar.

-Who’s that over there? Why is she standing alone?

-It’s my girlfriend, Rose. -said Bobby.

-Ah huh. -she said, a sigh of relief was supposed to follow, but instead her heart relaxed, knowing Bobby probably wanted the boys to meet her while they’re there.

After they left, not too long after, Luke came as promised. This time, he really came, together with his guitar, and bags of fruit he bought.

-You parents said you can’t have any tough food, so I thought your favorite fruits are a great idea. -he left them on the table, and sat down next to Y/N’s bed.

-You came. -Y/N said, holding back a big smile. He looked really handsome, even though he didn’t even try to. It was what had her attracted to him the most at the moment.

-I came to sing you to sleep. -he said, and positioned his guitar. Y/N slipped down to her laying position, and patiently waited for him to start singing. When he did, she realized that the words are completely new, and unknown to her, which meant he wrote them freshly. And he did. He wrote her a song, about how he’s sorry and if he’d take back the time, he’d fix everything, but still remain the Luke she loves.

After he finished, Y/N applauded and rested her hand on a writing, carved onto his guitar.

-Why ‘Y/I’ (Y/I= your initials)? -she traced it with her fingers.

-For Y/N Y/L/N. My Y/N Y/L/N.-he smiled.

Y/N sat up and rested her back against her pillow, as few tears fell down her face, quickly wiping them away so Luke doesn’t notice. He still thought she was mad at him, with the right to be, so he nodded his head and sat up to leave the room, just like he did earlier, although this time, it wasn’t clear if he would come back again. Y/N swiftly lingered her fingers onto his, and it gave her life; his touch.

-I-I need you...Let’s make up. -she said and swallowed her tears. Luke slowly spun around and sat on the bed. She cupped his face and wiped away his tears, as he did the same, resting their foreheads on top of each other.

-I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for doing the same mistake again. Please forgive me and give me the chance to make up to you. I love you so much,

-It’s fine Luke. It all was gone with another day. Let’s focus on the ones that are coming. I love you too, so much. And the song was beautiful, I can’t even explain to you.

-Yeah? Well, since we made up and sang a song, you must now eat at least one orange, okay?

-Okay fine. -she said lazily, and Luke managed to peel one for her. She made a sour face when she tasted it, and Luke placed a kiss to her lips, getting a taste of its bitterness and making a face as well, which made her laugh. For the first time since the day before, she managed to remember what laughing feel like. As well as crying, and going through pain, all because of the one boy, she loved with her entire life. Mutually getting the same love, from him; her Luke Patterson.

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #jatp fandom #julie and the phantoms #fantoms #luke x y/n #jatp series #jatp imagines #luke patterson jatp imagines #luke patterson imagines

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stolen-kisses-a · 3 years

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The Night Ali Disappeared ~ A PLL Night of Terror ~

In other words, the night Ali had too many people against and after her and she almost got murdered for it.

*most info comes from a PLL site if I can’t remember every little detail so I rewrote the majority of my version of events and copy and pasted some parts along with some of the pictures, so credit goes to them for putting it altogether for us.

Link: https://prettylittleliars.fandom.com/wiki/Sequence_of_Events_-_Alison%27s_Disappearance#The_Day_Alison_Went_Missing_-_September_1

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Lets take a trip down memory lane shall we??? This is gonna be a long one. Read it if you want to or read it from the link as well :)

1. The morning of: Alison went to Hilton Head to meet up and be with Ian to get her mind off of - A. And at the same time Melissa was there with Ian but in separate rooms. Melissa showed up in Ian’s room and was angry with Ian for knowing Ali is there with him and he tells her that Alison means nothing to him, that’s when Alison finds Ian’s creepy pedo videos and it happens to be one of Toby and Jenna. She gets a copy of the video and then leaves.

2. Alison checks into the Lost Woods Resort under her Alias Vivian. Sparia also found out she checked in another time. But the dates are confusing. This will be explained later on (#23).

3. Alison then dressed up as Vivian Darkbloom and had Duncan fly her from Hilton Head to a field near Philadelphia 6-7 hours before the girls believed her to arrive (I’m not sure if it’s true or not). She then was going to meet A face to face finally after having a newspaper convo back and forth with them, but supposedly that never happened. They were supposed to meet nearby of what looks like a creepy doll hospital (cuz Mona loves dolls), supposedly Alison called the police that same day near the street where the hospital was - not sure what for if this was true as Alison never confirmed it.

4. Alison then goes visits Jenna in the hospital, to show her the video of Jenna and Toby together as blackmail, because she thought Jenna was A. Turns out to be false as A sends her a death threat right after leaving Jenna’s room.

5. That afternoon: Alison then “returns home” from Georgia with bags looking very tan and saying her arms are sore. One bag had a tag on it from Hilton Head, Spencer obviously questions it and Alison asks her “why so many questions?” and reiterates she can’t spill every detail and tells the girls to “wait for it” repeatedly.

6. Alison returns home and finds a gift from her mom with the infamous yellow top and she turns around after changing in her room and sees a threatening message from A on her mirror.

7. That same day, Alison bought a storage locker to hide Ian’s videos before stopping by to see Emily and flirt with her some to then give her a snow globe with the storage locker key inside the bottom of it. Alison then leaves for a “prior engagement” although it was never revealed who she went to see next before coming to Spencer’s barn for the sleep over.

8. Before heading over to the sleepover. Alison returns home again and runs into her mom (on the phone with Radley because Bethany escaped and Charlotte escaped as well to go after her). Her mom wanted to Ali to stay in for obvious reasons even though the excuse that she just didn’t want to her going out. Alison then fights back by saying she planned this ages ago and was told it was ok to do. Then she mentions about Spencer being a bully and that she took care of it (really, Spencer a bully?). Then Ali’s mom remarks to Ali “She knows things about that family Ali doesn’t know” and Ali asked curiously “Really, like what?” Ali’s Mom responds that she’s seen what they are capable of and reminds Ali’s that she can never turn her back on a Hastings. -Which is exactly what Ali did after her and Spencer fought again #12). Alison then pretends to go to her room and sneaks back down to go into her moms purse to grab some sleeping pills while her mom was distracted on the phone again- what does Ali need those for? Oh, we’ll find out soon.

9. That Night: Alison arrives at Spencer's barn and pranks and jumps to the barn doors and scares the girls. Heading inside, she gets a text from Toby to meet her. The girls hang for a bit and gossip about Beyonce’s new song and then Ali throws some shade at Emily for liking it too much (totally not homophobic am i right??). She then spikes the girls drink with her moms medicine to knock them out. Aria drinks first and Spencer jokes to Aria to not drink to much or she’ll tell them all her secrets. The Ali ironically says “Friends shares secrets, that’s what keeps us close. Drink up”.;) We can only assumed Emily, Hanna and Spencer drank afterwards. After the girls fell asleep, she then meets Toby outside of the barn doors so he can thank her for getting Jenna to leave him alone. Toby then gives her his sweater because she was cold.

10. After speaking with Toby, Alison leaves Spencer’s backyard to meet up with Ezra. *cringe*.Toby also saw this as well (Although this was never even mentioned by Toby either -plot hole-).Ezra is clearly mad at Ali since she lied to him about her age and then he ends things with Alison in a not so nice way..

11. *Spencer wakes up and notices Ali was missing, so she waits for her to return.*

Alison then goes to meet Ian at the kissing rock after speaking with Ezra. (flashback moment: (I know you wanna kiss me”). this is where they fake Ian hurting Ali in the video later discovered. Alison then threatens him with his videos to make him leave her alone, Ian then says not tell anyone or else people will get hurt and then ironically “storms” off.

12. Alison returns to the barn to find Spencer awake waiting for her. Also she didn’t have Toby’s sweater anymore. Where did it go? (plot hole - only to be planted in Toby’s room to frame Toby for Alison’s murder at some point.)

They go inside Spencer’s house and have a fight about Spencer telling Melissa about her and Ian again. It gets heated and Spencer tells Alison she is sick of her games and told her, "You are dead to me already. “ Alison leaves and then Spencer runs after her. (Charlotte and Alison’s mom witness the fight and pays Charlotte off not to say anything - which is weird to pay off your own daughter). Spencer wants to continue the confrontation with Alison and Spencer grabs a shovel acting as if she was going to hit Alison with it and Spencer collapses to the ground in the midst of Alison trying to stop Spencer. Alison then discovers Spencer had been taking ADHD meds (not to mention the sleeping pills mixed in her system from Ali already) and Spencer begs Ali not to tell anyone and she agreed and then sends Spencer back to the barn with the shovel in head and Ali then waits for her to fall back asleep. (Melissa also sees the fight and sees Spencer walking away with the shovel)

13. Meanwhile, Ian, Garrett and Jenna all meet up in Alison’s bedroom to look for the videos she stole. Melissa comes in furious looking for Alison in hopes to confront her about Ian and Ali hooking up. Garrett and Jenna leave Melissa and Ian alone to talk it out and go outside in the backyard. Alison comes up to them and then Ali reminds Jenna of the promise she made to her earlier that morning,(”If you ever come back to Rosewood, I’ll bury you”) so Jenna and Ali get into a cat fight, Ali knocks Jenna to the ground and she comes back up with the infamous now burned in Spencer’s fireplace (thanks to Mr. Hastings) field hockey stick in attempt to defend herself. Garrett takes the hockey stick from Jenna and proceeds to attack Ali with it and hits the tree next to Ali, she then falls to the ground next to the tree telling Garrett to hush with her finger. Garrett and Jenna flee the scene, with Jenna thinking Garrett killed or hurt Ali badly.

14. Garrett comes back to check on Ali to see if she’s ok (even though she wasn’t even hurt), but then notices she was talking to someone and proceeds to listen and watch to see who it was. Byron (Aria’s dad) came to speak to her about not exposing his affair to Ella because he didn’t have anymore money to give her to keep her quiet. Alison says "If you don't pay for your mistakes, how do you become a better person?" Byron replies back "You say all these grown-up things, yet you're still a child." Alison smirks and says "You know what I'm capable of." After Garrett makes some noise, Byron starts to leave and Alison threatens him again saying it's his last chance to save himself. Byron turns while he is leaving and replies, "Yes it is," presumably meaning he was going to tell Ella himself (which he obviously doesn’t). Alison then screams to him "You made your bed Mr. Montgomery,"

15. While Byron was leaving, Byron turns back when Alison spoke about his bed (LOL) and sees Melissa coming out from Alison’s back door on the phone with someone and says to them, "What do I have to do, call 911 to get your attention?" This is the part where we never found out who she was talking to, but it was important enough to show it to us.

16. Jason (out of nowhere) came outside to grab a drink of water from the watering hose since he was drunk and high and notices Melissa and presumably Alison talking to each other and calls out Ali’s name and then he sees Charlotte talking with Melissa instead, although this is false and never really confirmed who it actually was. As Alison and Bethany were wearing the same outfit that night, not Charlotte. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be Bethany talking to Melissa since she arrived much later, and Alison never confirmed this information either. So who knows what Jason really saw. So right after seeing them, he passes out on a lawn chair. Sometime after this, Garrett or Jenna, or both, slipped a note to Jason that says "I know what you did", in order to make him believe he hurt Alison, since Jenna thought Garrett had killed her.

17. Alison returns to the barn watching the girls sleep some more and waiting to get another text from A, in order to rule them out. As some time passes, Alison decides to head home thinking she won since A didn’t try to kill her. As she was walking back to her house, she sees her mom obviously angry at her through the window for sneaking out and then all of sudden. BAM!! Charlotte hits Alison over the head with a rock only because she presumed it was Bethany since she was wearing the same outfit. Her mom then proceeds to bury Alison where the gazebo spot would be (pilot episode). She is screaming to Charlotte, "What have you done?! What have you done?!" Alison attempts to tell her mom she is alive, but cannot move or speak due to temporary paralysis. After Ali’s mom buries her, she then calls Detective Wilden and pays him off to give Charlotte an alibi and sends her back to Radley.

17. Not long after, Alison dug her way up reaching out of the ground for help/to get free, and who was there to grab her hand? Mrs. Grunwald of course, as she sensed something was wrong with Alison and had to come see what was going on and found her hand reaching for life. She then takes Ali to the hospital to get help, but then Ali runs away.

18. Meanwhile, Bethany finally shows up at Ali’s backyard, and so does Mona who was finally ready to confront and to kill Ali. But just like Charlotte’s mistake, Mona only saw the back of Bethany and presumed it was Alison and hit her over the head with the same shovel Spencer had earlier. This is when Bethany’s head gets hit so hard that it makes an indentation on her skull and she falls unconscious next to where Ali was previously buried. Mona then flees the scene.

19. Shortly after, Melissa shows up and sees Alison (obviously presuming it was her without checking) and assumed Spencer killed her based on the fight she witnessed they had earlier that night. She then proceeds to bury Bethany who was still alive in order to protect Spencer (”this whole time”)

20. And then we come back to the Pilot opening scene where the girls wake up to find Spencer and Ali missing from the barn. Spencer comes back to them and says that she looked everywhere for her and she thinks she heard her scream - which we know was probably from Bethany.

21. Later on that night, we see Alison walking on a random street after leaving Mrs. Grunwald’s aide. She is dazed and confused, hurt and traumatized by what she just went through. And who to pull up beside her? Mona. (I wonder what Mona’s plan was since she thought she killed her).

So Mona takes Ali to the Lost Woods Resort and checks in under Vivian Darkbloom’s name for Alison. Mona proceeds to clean Ali up and Ali tells Mona what happened and about A who tried to kill her. So smart and cunning Mona persuades Ali to fake her death so A could leave her alone for good.

22. The next day: Mona helps disguise Alison in a Vivian like wig so she can disappear. She then gives Mona tips on how to become popular and then Ali takes a car and leaves showing Mona with a eerier grin as she drives away, thinking she finally won.

23. Which comes back to the last bit of information involving Alison checking in again on 9/6 at the Lost Woods Resort 5 days later as she already checked in the night she went missing and she left the next day. So this had to be Mona checking in as her again or a plot hole in plotting clues in the storyline of Alison’s disappearance that ended up not making sense.

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It’s crazy how many people Ali saw the night/day she went missing and was almost killed. Like this girl clearly attracts trouble and drama and shit she shouldn’t be into at 15 years old.

Well, I hope you had fun reading this tale of terrors with me (if you made it to the end and didn’t go to the link lol) as much as I had fun putting it altogether and reminiscing on how it took the show 4 seasons to tell Alison’s disappearance story.

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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 years

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#4 Reader X SickSpencer

Gif credit: @stunudo

Prompt: Reader X SickSpencer - Spencer catches a cold and doesn’t come into work on Monday morning. The reader goes to his apartment to check and see if he is doing alright.

Category: Fluff / Comfort

Content Warning: Language (maybe)

A/N: After watching the episode where Spencer gets tortured I had an infinite need to write something where he gets comforted by someone. This is pretty domestic and fluffy, but it’s what I needed right now. I want to thank @veraiconcos for helping me with the inspiration for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Please like / reblog!

Link to all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/l/n_ = you’re last name

_h/c_ = hair color

_b/s_ = brother/ sister

_h/l_ = hair length

_f/c_ favorite color

_Y/n_ walked into the headquarters of the BAU with a pep in her step. She had spent most of the weekend hiking the paths of Ricketts Glenn State Park in Pennsylvania. She had taken the train up after she had clocked out of work and spent the rest of the weekend disconnecting from the world. She found the forested paths relaxing compared to her normal job she was bound to. She had asked if Morgan or Prentiss wanted to join her, but both of her teammates already had plans for the weekend. In total the woman had walked over fifty miles. At noon on Sunday _y/n_ sadly said goodbye to her campsite, and drove herself to the airport. She had arrive at the office before everyone on Monday morning. She hadn’t gotten any work done during her outdoor experience. Because of this she arrived at her desk early in order to make a dent in the pile of paperwork she had left behind on Friday. When she sat down at the white desk _y/n_ noticed that some of the files she was least looking forward to were nowhere to be found. She didn’t think too hard about it for the moment, and just grabbed another file instead. After an hour, the other members of the team started streaming into the bullpen. _Y/n_ noticed that at 8:00 A.M. Morgan, Prentiss, J.J., Hotch and Gideon were all present, except for Dr. Reid. Agent _y/l/n_ looked around the room once more just to make sure that the young man wasn’t actually there, and she was just missing him. Spencer had never been late to work before. He had actually picked her up multiple times when she had texted him in a panic that it was raining and the trains would run late, and she’d probably get fired for being two minutes late. She knew that her fears were unfounded, she also knew that Spencer knew her fear was stupid. None the less he would pull up to her apartment and swing the passenger side door open from the inside. Those had been good rides. When _y/n_ was very sure she had not missed Spencer she walked up to Morgan who was just now walking up to his desk. She leaned against his desk and asked, “Morning, do you know where Reid is? Also, I’m missing some files from my desk, any idea where they may be?” Derek smiled and said, “I can explain both questions sweetness.” _Y/n_ rolled her eye’s at Morgans flattery but still raised her eyebrows, non verbally telling him to continue. Morgan took a seat and continued, “Reid is sick, apparently he caught a cold. About your missing files, your boyfriend stayed late last Friday, last I saw of him he had taken about ten of your case files to his desk, and was filling them out himself.” Before _y/n_ had a chance to process that Derek had called Spencer her boyfriend she replied, “Oh my gosh, is he okay? When did he get sick?” Morgan smiled as she realized what term he had used for her friend. She grabbed one of his case files and started hitting him over the head with it. The athletic agent put his hands over his head and said, “Reid got sick on Saturday. He texted us on Sunday that he had a fever and Hotch told him to stay home.”

Before _y/n_ could ask more questions, J.J. entered the room and said, “We have a case, let’s head into the conference room to talk over the details.” When the team was assembled, Hotcher stood up and started explaining the case. “We’re looking for an unsub that has killed congressman Luke Allen. The murder took place in the senators office last night at 1:00 A.M. His body was found today by his aid, Gracie Suveua. There was no apparent forced entry. The senators most popular contributions on Capitol Hill have been his working and signing the bill regarding Obergefell vs. Hodges in 2015.” The team nodded and agent _y/l/n_ commented, “So we may be looking for a person that has problems with the implications of gay marriage in the Supreme Court: religious extremists, opposing party members or a person from another radical religions that oppose LGBTQ+ rights.” Gideon agreed and replied, “That’s a great start for a profile. Hotch and Derek, would you head over to the sight of the murder. J.J. would you give Penelope our main facts so far and get her to do a database search based off of those criteria. Prentiss, _y/n_ and I will head over to the police precinct to ask some questions and gather information from the force.” After a minute of gathering in their separate groups, the teams went their separate ways to begin the hard work of the new case. Prentiss and _y/n_ weren’t thrilled to be going to the prescient. The officers were mostly of a male demographic, and often ignored comments that both female agents had made before, and turned out to be true later. Nonetheless, the trio whisked away to the station. When they arrived, the Police chief heartily shook Jason’s hand, but chose not to shake Emily of _y/n’s_. The two agents looked at each other, shrugged and moved into the sleek building after Gideon. It wasn’t until 9: 30 P.M. that the team was back to the conference room debriefing the information that they had accrued during the course of the day. After the debrief was over Aaron said, “I think we will be better use to this case if we all get some sleep and pick this up tomorrow. I don’t think that we aren’t at risk of another victim being killed tonight. If we work hard there won’t be a second death to follow the first. Get some sleep and I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.” Each member of the team slowly got up, in their fatigue and moved out of the bright room and back toward their desks. When _y/n_ got to her desk she slumped down in her swivel chair. She pulled out her phone and looked at the message she had missed. She ignored a text from her mom and instantly scrolled down to the text that Spencer had sent her. The message read, “I’m still feeling pretty bad. I’m sorry that I can’t be useful in this case.” _y/n_ observed the text, and thought about how Spencer threw himself into his work 110% of the time and maybe it was batter that he had a break from work, even if he had to feel like shit to get to that place.

Before she could respond to the message that Reid had sent three hours ago Morgan approached _y/l/n_ and asked, “Do you need a ride home? Taking the train right now isn’t exactly safe.”_Y/n_ looked up to him and said, “I think I’ll go check on Reid first. Would you mind taking me to his apartment?” Morgan raised his eyebrows at the statement, and after a moment of silence said, “Sure thing.” The agents moved to the parking lot where Derek’s car sat ready to take off. _Y/n_ had sold her car when she had moved to D.C. to pay the deposit on her crappy apartment. She had always told herself that she would buy a new car when she had the money. Even though she had been working on the BAU unit for over a year she had never bought a car. She preferred the train anyway. When the agent got onto the car Morgan smoothly moved out of his spot and into the empty road. _Y/n_ pulled out her phone and texted Spencer back saying, “Sorry you’re still feeling bad. I am going to come over and see if you’re doing okay. Be there in about twenty minutes.” When she finished sending the text she put her phone in her pocket and looked out the front window at the empty road. After a minute Derek commented, “You really like him, don’t you?” The male agent had his big brother voice on when he asked the question. _Y/n_ pulled her hand through her _h/c_ before responding, “Derek you know how I feel about him. You don’t have to interrogate me. But it might be helpful if you didn’t call Spencer my boyfriend in front of him. You know how he gets when it comes to affection.” Morgan smiled. He knew that both agents had spent a good amount of time together outside of work. He thought that they made a good couple, but also that they hadn’t said anything about their feelings to each other yet. Morgan respected that they were moving slowly, that really was more their style anyway. Derek replied, “I get you. Plus, I wouldn’t want to jeopardize any chance you might have in letting him tell you that he likes you.” As he finished his statement the duo pulled into the front of Reid apartment building. She looked over to her friend and said, “You know nothing may happen. If it’s just platonic I’d get it. But I do love him.” Derek smiled at the fact that she had actually said the words out loud. He responded, “Go get him tiger.” She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the car. _Y/n_ leaned back in to say, “If I get anything it will probably be a cold from our resident genius,” before closing the door, waving and walking into the apartment.

When she was in the apartment she took a moment to enjoy the sleek interior of the building. She was always jealous of the coffee shop that the contained. She had to walk three blocks to get to a coffee shop from her apartment. Secretly she was grateful for this fact, because if her apartment had a cafe she knew she would spend all her money there. She was brought back to the moment when the elevator dinged and opened. The agent waited for the occupants of the elevator to get out, and she stepped in once it was empty. She pressed the cool round metal button that read ‘5.’ The moving contraption stopped twice for other residents to get in the metal box before _y/n_ got out on floor five. When she was outside Spencer’s door she realized that she had never checked her messages before just showing up at his room. She pulled out her cellular device, and saw that he had not responded. _Y/l/n_ thought, ‘Maybe he’s asleep? Or maybe he’s feeling really bad and didn’t want me to come?’ The agent panicked for a moment, considering that Spencer might be too ill to respond. After a moment she calmed down and knocked on the door. It took a minute before she heard light shuffling outside the door. She could barely hear her friend say, “Who is it?” _Y/n_ rolled hey eyes at the question; all he had to do was look out his peep hole. After quietly laughing she said, “It’s _y/n_. Can I come in?” The door opened slightly and _y/n_ could see a small sliver of Dr. Reid. She tried to ascertain his sickness level from the shade of his face. Spencer stood for a minute calculating how risky it would be for him to let her in. He said in a raspy voice, “I might get you sick. You know that 3% of American’s have a 64% chance of getting a cold during the year.” _Y/n_ smiled and replied, “I’m happy you’re still coherent enough to give me statistics Spence, and if I’m going to get a cold I’d rather it be from you, and not some random person on the street. I’m just here to make sure you don’t stay sick for longer than necessary.” Reid reconsidered the odds. How old _y/n_ was, how active she was and her general health. After he finished his assessment the young man opened the door and allowed his friend in.

When she was in the apartment the female agent set her backpack by the front of the door. Spencer had stepped back in an attempt to lower the rate of transmission. While he was doing this _y/n_ looked him over. He was paler than usual, and his cheeks were flushed red. His hair was limply hanging around his cheeks that were more sunken in than usual. Even in his comfortable looking Yale sweatshirt and grey shorts, the man looked miserable. _Y/n_ looked at him sympathetically and said, “Maybe you should take a seat?” Reid replied, “Do I really look that bad?” She shrugged her shoulders and sighed, but didn’t tell him verbally that he looked like a kid who had fallen into a swimming pool in his clothes by accident. She walked over to the coach and Spencer followed her. He sunk down into the dark fabric of the couch leaning his head against the back. She pulled a chair up while he was seated and asked, “Can I feel your forehead?” When the words were out of her mouth _y/n_ realized how strange it sounded, but Spencer didn’t seem to think it was weird - maybe because he was slightly delirious - or he just knew to expect strange expressions that he didn’t understand come out form her lips. So he replied, “Okay.” _Y/n_ stood up from her chair and knelt on the couch next to Spencer and lifted her hand. She placed it on his forehead. His skin was hot. For the moment that _y/n’s_ hand was on his head Spencer enjoyed it. The cool sensation of her hand was relaxing. He wished it stayed there for a moment longer. The genius realized that the concept was completely illogical because the heat of his fevered body would simply begin transferring to her hand. It only took a second for _y/n_ to realize that Spencer was still running a high temperature, and even though she didn’t need to, she slipped her hand under his chin to check the temperature there too. She assumed she did this because her mom had done it when she was a kid. She pulled her hand away again for the second time and got up. Spencer leaned his head back to look at _y/n_ as his friend moved toward his bathroom. He heard the tap turn on, and after a few seconds, she returned to his side with a small hand towel. She was holding her hand under it so that it didn’t drip water on his wooden floors. “When did you last check your temperature, and how high was it?” _Y/n_ inquired as she placed the damp towel on his hot forehead. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief at the coolness of the cloth. He then responded, “I checked it two hours ago. I think it was around 100.72 degrees. She nodded at the reply and then asked, “Have you eaten yet today?” The young genius was notorious for completely forgetting that he needed to nourish his slender body on a regular basis. So she could only imagine that while he was sick, food was the last thing on his mind. He gave the response she expected of, “No. I’ve felt kind of nauseous all day, I didn’t think eating was going to help with that.” _Y/n_ rolled her eyes and said, “Have you ever considered that not eating could make you nauseous too?” The young woman got up and went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and only found a carton of eggs and a few containers of leftovers. She turned to Spencer and asked, “Why don’t you have any food Reid?” Spencer gave a cough before defended himself by saying, “I normally go grocery shopping on Sunday, but I was sick, so I didn’t go.” _Y/l/n_ understood and said, “Okay. Well I’m going to run down to the corner store and make you some dinner. Do you have a favorite comfort food?” Spencer stood and took a few steps toward her and said, “You really don’t have to. I can take care of myself.” _Y/n_ replied, “I know you can Spence. I just want to be here to show you you don’t have to all the time. Especially when you’re sick.’ Reid bit his lip as he usually did when he was thinking. After a moment he strode to his counter and grabbed the keys to his apartment, and car, and tossed them at _y/n_. She quickly shifted left and grabbed the object being flung at her. Spencer said, “I really like grilled cheese sandwiches.” She smiled and said, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Before walking out of his living room and into the hall. She locked the door behind her and moved toward the elevator.

The corner store was limited in it’s selections. But all that really mattered was that _y/n_ had a loaf of white bread, some American cheese, a kind of pathetic looking can of tomato soup, and some orange juice. With these items in her basket the girl moved to the counter and paid for the groceries with cash from her wallet. It wasn’t until she was at the counter paying that she noticed the time. The Digital clock that was displayed behind the cashier glowed in red letters 10:25 P.M. She knew that if she went back to Spencer and made dinner she was going to miss the last train. To the woman it was just a small thought that quickly came and went. She wasn’t going to leave her friend right now. If he was uncomfortable with her staying at his place overnight _y/n_ would get a taxi back to her apartment. Spencer heard the key slide in the door and knew that _y/n_ had returned. He was currently lying down on the couch and didn’t really move that much as she set down a bag on his counter. There was a moment where some glass clinked together, and a second later she was in front of him with a glass of ice water and a glass of orange juice for him. She set them down on the table next to the couch and he said, “Thanks. I’m feeling a little better now.” _Y/n_ smiled and said, “Good, if you want a distraction while I’m making the food you can look over the new case. We’ve been working on it all day and haven’t gotten very far. The files in my bag.” Spencer jolted at the chance of doing something other than feeling miserable, and he got up and found the file in _y/n’s_ backpack. As he walked back toward the couch he noticed that _y/n_ had bought herself a coffee from the shop in the lobby. She shared his taste for sugar filled beverages. Unlike him, she preferred milk in her caffeinated drinks. Spencer grabbed the warm polystyrene cup and took a sip of it while she was digging in his fridge for some butter. Spencer often stole _y/n’s_ snacks or drinks. It was the type of thing that would make her angry for a second and then she would laugh it off for five more. He would always buy her a replacement item, often he would make it a bigger cup of coffee or bar of chocolate than the one she had before. Spencer knew that the young agent was trying to save up money so she could fly down to her _b/s’s_ college graduation in a month. It was the least he could do. After all living in D.C. could be hard on the bank account.

It wasn’t until the soup was on the stove heating up, and the grilled cheese sandwiches were in the pan getting melty that _y/n_ started looking around for her coffee cup. After a minute of futile searching she spotted it in Spencer’s hand. She smirked, moving to the back of the couch, she pretended to look over Reid’s shoulder at the information he was examining. When the man removed the cup from his lips and lowered it toward his leg she grabbed it out of his grasp and said, “Really Reid. This is how you repay me for my help.” Halfway through the sentence and she was already laughing at his antics. She glided to a position in front of him and started bringing the drink to her own mouth when she remembered Spencer was sick. She examined the lid of the cup, and obviously some of his saliva was on the rim of the cup. Reid looked up at her and said, “Sorry I also haven’t had any coffee yet today either.” _Y/n_ sighed and handed him back the cup replying, “You know, I fear that if you asked me to murder someone I would consider it.” Spence smiled up at her. After another five minutes or so the pair were eating a very late dinner at the kitchen table. They were talking about the details of the case. As soon as they had finished eating Spencer asked, “Are you planning on going back to your apartment tonight? The train stopped running a half hour ago.” A blush rose to _y/n’s_ cheeks and replied, “Well. I was wondering if I could just stay here tonight? I need to look through the details of the case again, and do some research. I’ll be quiet.” It wasn’t a super odd request. The pair had stayed up all night before working on cases or having movie marathons, but they had never been at one of their apartments when one, or both of them was going to be sleeping. Spencer looked over to her and said, “Of course you can. I can help you with the research if you want.” _Y/n_ smiled and said, “Thanks for letting me stay. And offering the help, but I think you should get some rest. You aren’t going to get better without sleep.” She smiled at him and began picking up the dishes from their dinner. Spencer helped her put them in the sink and said, “I promise next time it’s my turn to cook. I’ll finish the dishes if you want to take a shower before I turn in.” _Y/n_ considered that she had been in the same clothes for over ten hours and knew that a shower would relax her she said, “that would be great.” She was embarrassed to ask it, but managed to stutter out, “Do you think I could borrow one of your shirts to wear while I work. These aren’t the most comfortable clothes.” Spencer opened his mouth for a moment at the idea and tried to clear his head of the image of her in one of his shirts. The man snapped his mouth shut and his jawline tightened before he responded, “Um, yeah. In my closet on the left hand side are all my t-shirts and sweaters. You can wear any of them.” She said, “Okay. I’ll just be a bit.” She rubbed her hand over his shoulder as she walked in the direction of his bedroom. After a minute Spencer could hear the water running.

The lean agent scrubbed down the dishes and put them in the drainer next to the sink. When he finished with the plates and bowls, he sat back down on the couch with the intention of looking at the case again. His thoughts didn’t allow him to. Instead he was considering how he was feeling. He wondered if it was alright to want these kinds of evenings to happen more often. He knew that he wasn’t that good with women. His few attempts to woe the friends and strangers he had been interesting in had usually gone horribly wrong. Yet, unbelievably a friend had come to check up on him, and was comfortable enough to spend the night at his place. He couldn’t figure out if he had done anything differently with _y/n_ than his other friends. He also was unsure if she felt the same way he did. Maybe she was uncomfortable being here and just needed to stay out of convenience. While Reid was considering the current situation _y/n_ was doing the same. She was running shampoo through her _h/l_ hair and musing over what had happened over the last two hours. She had always wanted, hoped, to get closer to Spencer, but she was afraid that if she moved too fast that he wouldn’t be interested, or worse not want to hang around her at all. She and Spencer did share some of the same hobbies but she hoped that she knew him better than that. She knew how he shied away from physical affection, and how he always seemed so happy when she or Jason told him he had done a good job, and how she knew what his shampoo was going to smell like before she even opened the bottle. She really hoped that her presence, both literally and metaphorically wasn’t making him uncomfortable now. When she was finished with her reverie _y/n_ rinsed out her hair and stepped out of the shower, After another ten minutes Spencer looked up to see _y/n_ in another one of his YALE sweatshirt. It was so long on her shorter body that it covered her like an ill fitting dress. However, Spencer thought she could wear a potato sack and pull it off. He quickly looked away from her to hide his blush.

The duo looked over the cases and _y/n_ hooked up to his WiFi on her computer. After this was finished and _y/n_ had bought herself another coffee (using Reid’s card), she recommended he go to bed. It was already 12:00 A.M. at this point. Spencer relented and headed to his bedroom. Before he went in he said, “Goodnight. If you’ve got any questions you can ask. Just knock on the door.” She smiled and said goodnight back, and told him to sleep well. The agent continued her work for another three hours before she moved to the couch to try and get more comfortable to do her work. The next morning Spencer found _y/n_ laying down on the couch she was clutching a pillow to her chest and had her left leg draped over the blanket she had covered her body with. Spencer dared not walk past her torso in case she was indecent below the leg she had over the blanket. He was feeling much better today, and wished that he could go into work with her, however, it was company policy to wait a full twenty-four hours after a fever to return to work. Spencer knew it was for the safety of his coworkers, but he hated being away from his job. The man knelt down and tapped _y/n_ on the shoulder. She sighed slightly before opening her eyes to see him. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Spencer quickly averted her eyes as she rose. She looked down at herself and realized that her _f/c_ boy shorts were peeking out from beneath Spencer’s YALE sweater. Her face turned red and she coughed, stood up and pulled the sweater down. She looked at her phone and quietly cursed, “Fuck, I’m going to be late.” Spencer knew that if _y/n_ was fast, and hurried she could catch the train and make it in time. He said, “Go change. If you’re fast you can make the 7:30 A.M. train.” _Y/n_ nodded and grabbed her clothes and ran into his bedroom. She shut the door and didn’t even bother to lock it as she stripped and quickly changed. Reid, who had woken up about thirty minutes before her, and had grabbed some coffee for her and himself. He had meant to wake her up once he had woken up, but he couldn’t disturb her when he had seen her so peaceful. When the woman came out of his room in her usual black pants and satin shirt, she looked ready to fight the crime in the city as she usually did. She put on her shoes and grabbed her things, stuffing them into her backpack. Spencer cleared his throat after she was finished and handed her the coffee. She smiled at him and said, “Thank you so much Spencer, for letting me stay, and the coffee.” Spencer smiled and hesitantly asked, “Would you come back again tonight? In case I need help again. Or feel bad?” It took a moment for the words to register and _y/n_ said “Huh?” And maybe it was because it was from lack of sleep, or her just being awake for five minutes, but the meaning of the words struck her after she had responded. She realized that Spencer wanted, that he really wanted to spend another night like they had had yesterday. She smiled up at him and replied, “Of course I’ll come back tonight Spence. I’d love that.” The word love was not lost on the genius, and he took a minute trying to and express his feeling, saying, “You know I really like you. I mean I appreciate you, or I feel things about you…” _Y/n_ wanted really really badly to hear the words come from him, but she knew that she didn’t have a moment to lose or she would be late. She hated cutting him off, but reluctantly said, “I know Spencer, me too.”

At hearing this Spencer gave a heartwarming smile and leaned down to hug her. She quickly gave him a kiss on the forehead and cheek. She then let go of him, and ran out the door, shouting over her shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight!”

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thedeathdeelers · 3 years

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Imène I’m blaming you for why I just created another WIP this time it’s reincarnation & time travel and it has willex, boggie, and juke and it has star-crossed lovers and it’ll take a while to finish but here’s what you inspired:

“You’re not going to remember any of this,” Julie whispers and she hopes it’s comforting to him. She doesn’t know how to tell him when he wakes up he won’t remember her face or name. He won’t remember how she traced the scar on his thumb or held him after that big fight with Emily. She won’t even be a dream to remember.

“What,” Luke replied, trying to get out of bed as she gently pushed him down until he relents and reaches to keep her hand against his heart. “That’s impossible, you’re like this rad angel of music or something. I can’t forget you.”

Julie let’s herself smile softly at this beautiful boy whose life she had saved from street hotdogs. She wonders if Willie and Bobby are out there somewhere, saying goodbye to Alex and Reggie. If Willie is trying to calm Alex from a panic attack and pretending to ride a skateboard with his fingers and trail it down the anxious boy’s hands. If Bobby is playing one last round of crazy eights with Reggie and making terrible puns to make the rosy-cheeked boy crack a smile.

She feels her heart lurch and her throat close. Before her and Bobby knew about all of this, how had Willie done it by himself? How could he keep showing up in every lifetime and allow himself to fall in love with Alex? How could Willie handle this? Knowing every time he saved Alex, he was giving him up. And Alex would never know, wouldn’t even remember to forget the tan skinned boy with long hair and high cheekbones. As she stared down at where her hand rested on Luke’s chest and his hand atop of hers, Julie wondered how she could do this. How do you say goodbye to someone you need to wait centuries to keep?” - 🌙

wait why are you blaming me??? i mean imma take all the blame because this sounds soooo so so so good and i want to read more (all of it), but like

take the credit for your genius, moonon

i love this. and it’s so sad but i love it!!!

(also, how’s the check yes juliet fic going?)

#jatp #ask #anon🌙#i need to find a tag that’s for like. when y’all drop whole ass fics in my inbox

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sierraraeck · 4 years

Text

Why Do You Struggle In Silence?

Hotch x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

(This is my gif so please give credit if used)

Summary: For some reason, the case they just finished is getting to her. Hotch decides to talk to her about it on the jet. Story three.

Category: Some angst, I guess.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff and sexual abuse.

Word Count: 2.1k

I had always had a talent for shutting people up. Whether that was a threat, a look, or some other uncomfortable comment I made, usually regarding myself, I found I could always get people to shut the hell up. Ever since I announced to the whole team that I’d killed people, that’s the reaction I received, which was fantastic considering they all already didn’t like me. Except for Emily who was the only one willing to even talk to me, but that information just reverted her back to thinking like everyone else, as it should for any normal person.

We boarded the jet, and I took my usual spot in the back, everyone else sitting or sleeping together in the front. Everyone had something they could do on the plane. Morgan and his music, Reid and his books, Prentiss and Jareau sleeping together, Aaron and Rossi talking to each other. I would listen to music but they refused to give me a phone (which was fair enough) and I would read but I guess they’re worried that I’d be inclined to give others papercuts? It was ridiculous. I had to sit there with my thoughts (something I’d grown way too accustomed to) or look through another case file. I opted for the latter.

Usually what other people did or said to me didn’t bother me. What other people did or said to other people didn’t particularly bother me either. But for some reason, this last case bothered me. These young women, who were the same age as me and looked a lot like me, were found exsanguinated in a ditch. They were all perfect students with perfect families and perfect friends. They were going places.

And then they weren’t.

Which especially pissed me off. Then I was pissed off that I was especially pissed off. So I decided that I needed to keep my mind occupied. That’s the funny thing about this job, looking at a new serial killer case is actually better than contemplating other disturbing thoughts.

I had just opened the next case file when someone sat down in the seat across from me.

“Aundreya,” Aaron said.

“Aaron,” I replied. “Uh I mean, Hotchner.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Correct yourself like that, calling me Hotchner?” I could see the sincerity in his eyes. He always looked so stone cold, but in that moment I could see something different. It worried me.

“I don’t know. I guess I realized the people you consider family aren’t even on a first name basis with you, so why should I be?”

“You don’t even use nicknames. I’m Hotchner, JJ is Jareau, Spencer is Dr. Reid …”

Because I haven’t earned them yet. I haven’t gotten to the point where they’d be okay with me calling them anything else. I’d be impeding on your guys’ territory. Any of these explanations would fit, but I didn’t feel like admitting any of them.

“Look, Hotchner-”

“You can call me Aaron,” he cut me off. My mouth hung open midsentece, the words evaporating from my tongue. My confusion must have been painted on my face because he quickly followed with, “You’ve always called me Aaron. It’s weird to hear you call me something different. Plus, sometimes I need someone other than Dave to remind me what my first name is.”

Was that … a joke? From Aaron Hotchner? I really must be losing it.

“Okay … Aaron,” I emphasized, “Why are you really here? I’m fairly certain you didn’t make the treacherous trip all the way over to the opposite end of the plane just to ask me about nicknames.”

“True. I actually wanted to ask how you were doing.”

“So are you going to?” I asked. Even when he was trying to be nice I couldn’t override my instinct to be an ass.

“Going to what?”

“Ask how I’m doing?” There were those unamused, dagger eyes I know and love.

“You’re stalling.”

“In fact I am, sir,” I responded. There were plenty of things in the world I disliked, but the thing I hated above all else, was talking about myself and those things called emotions. It all just felt so foreign.

Aaron looked at me for a while before speaking. It’s like I could physically see the ice melting around his eyes, softening them back up. And profiling. Always profiling.

Finally, he came out with it. “Why do you struggle in silence?”

Those six words hit me like a brick from a skyscraper. No one had ever cared enough to ask, not even Deen or Sydney. It sent an entire shock wave through my system.

Struggling in silence was the only real way I’d learned how to cope with everything over the years. No one on the streets wanted to hear about what was going wrong in your life and why it sucked because theirs’ always sucked more. Better yet, you brought it upon yourself and it was somehow your fault. Oh your mom and sister died in a fire? My dad killed my mom then committed suicide. Oh you’re out here on the streets at 14? Try 12. Oh you’re being sexually abused in a gang? You joined it.

Once I got thrown in prison, there was no time for feelings. Adapt or die. Either you shoved it all down, proved your worth, and reacted on instinct, or you went soft and got eaten alive. Not like anyone going to prison is necessarily ‘soft’ to begin with.

The only thing I could think to do was deflect. “What do you mean?”

“You insist on sitting here alone with your thoughts and they’re tearing you apart. Instead of talking about them, you compress them and turn them into rage that comes out in random bursts. Usually you can keep it in check, but I saw something different this week, especially today. So how are you doing?” The concern was swimming in his eyes. There was something soothing about the way he could keep his voice calm and quiet when relaying any sort of information. He could convince me the year was 1872 and unicorns existed.

“I’m doing a whole hell of a lot better than those girls, I’ll tell you that. I’m not bleeding out in a ditch, so I’d say I’m doing pretty well,” I said more harshly than I intended.

“Is that what this is about? The case we just worked?”

I sighed and looked down. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Of course it matters. The work we do matters and each team member matters,” he replied. We sat there in silence for a while before he spoke again. “If you aren’t going to tell me what’s going on, which I figured you wouldn’t, at least tell me why you choose to struggle in silence.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s what I’ve always done, and it’s not like I have any other options.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that no one wants to hear my problems. I don’t even want to hear my problems. There’s not a single person on the planet that wants to listen to a street rat gang criminal complain about what’s bothering her,” I answered. It’s true. I bet the nicest shrink out there would roll their eyes at the idea of me complaining. “Anything that’s an issue for me I’ve probably brought upon myself anyway and if I haven’t, I’m sure I deserve it.”

“You know that’s not true. Each person deserves to-”

“Not me, Aaron, not me. I’m not deserving of whatever it was you were about to say. I’m much more deserving to swap places with those girls because they definitely didn’t deserve to die like that,” I said. I wanted to hit myself for saying anything at all. He didn’t actually want to hear what I had to say, he probably just asked so that he still seemed like a good unit chief. Aaron just looked at me, realization forming on his face. “And I don’t deserve to be complaining. Especially not to you.”

“Especially not to me?”

“Especially not to any of you. Every single person on this plane has their fair share of issues and is doing just fine. You don’t need my problems being spread around on top of that. So yeah, I choose to struggle in silence.”

“So you think that just because you have a troubled past, you don’t deserve to have a weight lifted off your shoulders?” he prompted.

“You could say that,” I responded. His eyes were still questioning and he let the air hang between us, waiting for me to fill the void. “It just doesn’t make sense to me, you know? Like why were those smart, pure women who had good things going for them cut short at 23 while I’ve made just about every bad decision in the book and I’m still kicking?”

Hotch was incredible at giving intense eye contact and not breaking it. Yet right when I finished talking, I saw his eyes flick to the side in the direction where I assumed everyone else was sitting. It was only for a millisecond, but it was just enough to alert me that not everyone was preoccupied or sleeping like I’d initially thought when I first sat down, turning my back to the rest of the team. I tried not to let on that I’d seen it.

“Trust me, everyone who has ever worked for the FBI has asked that same question. My best answer is that we still have work to do,” he offered. It was a valid enough answer, but I was still irritated. Irritated that I’d let on I was bothered, irritated that I’d just admitted it out loud, irritated that he was so level headed about it. I was determined not to share any more about myself and my feelings. It made me feel gross.

Apparently among Hotch’s many talents was also mind reading, because he followed with, “Just so you know, in case you ever decide to stop struggling in silence, the team and I are here for you.”

I scoffed, shaking my head at him. “No. They’re not. But I appreciate you saying that and I appreciate you being here. Even though I know you still don’t fully trust or respect me.” He looked at me with a combination of shock, betrayal, and wonder. He immediately reverted back to stone, which he did whenever he felt like he was being read too easily, like a defense mechanism. Like I’d seen something I shouldn’t have.

“Oh, come on, Aaron. I know it’s taking every fiber in your body not to just slap handcuffs on me right here right now and keep it that way. Don’t worry, I’m not offended by it. It makes sense considering you’ve spent over twelve years dedicated to putting handcuffs on people like me. That’s why I especially appreciate your efforts to fight that very same instinct you’ve been fine-tuning all these years.” I didn’t think it was possible, but I had rendered the great Aaron Hotchner speechless. He looked at me with that blank expression, but his eyes spoke volumes. They told me that I was right, that he never intended for me to know that, and that he was not used to being on the receiving end of being profiled.

I gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “But don’t worry. If I ever get tired of it, or decide my method of coping is no longer working for me, you will be the first to know.”

Still not knowing exactly what to do, Aaron nodded, got up from his place across from me, and started walking back to where he was sitting before. I caught him just before he got out of arm's reach.

“Oh and Aaron,” I stopped him with a slight smirk, “I think it’d do you some good to remind your children that eavesdropping is supposedly rude.”

I received a single nod and the beginnings of a smirk as he turned to walk away.

From behind me I heard Rossi whisper, “Supposedly rude, huh?”

“I guess because she’s the master at it,” Morgan whispered.

“I knew she’d know we were listening,” Prentiss joined.

“Your children?” Reid asked. I allowed myself a slight smile when he said that.

“She’s not completely wrong, though,” Aaron answered. I could basically feel the teasing and silent laughs radiating from behind me.

I shook my head, slightly amused at how on-edge I could make six FBI profilers. I directed my attention back to the case file in front of me, grateful to finally let the irritated feeling looming over me dissipate.

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fyeahhozier · 5 years

Text

The Irishman is deeper and darker than he's maybe been given credit for... but the geniality and swoon factor remain high.

Variety: Hozier Proves He’s a Career Artist in Gratifying Greek Show

At Hozier’s sold-out show at L.A.’s Greek Friday night, one of the first things you couldn’t help noticing on stage —because it’s still an anomaly — was that his eight-piece lineup was half-male, half-female. Knowing his penchant for socially conscious songs, his decrial of “the anthems of rape culture” in his lyrics, and a general female-friendliness to his appeal, it’s easy to figure this gender parity is a conscious one and think: That is soooo Hozier. Which it is … and so effective, too, like just about every choice he’s made so far in his short, charmed career. On the most practical level, if you can bring in that much female harmony while also getting ace players in the bargain, why wouldn’t you? But it also makes for a good visual emblem of some of the other dual energies Hozier is playing with in his music: darkness and enlightenment; romantic hero and cad; raw blues dude and slick pop hero. He’s got a lot more going on than just being an earnest do-gooder. (Although he does do good, earnestly.)

During Friday’s hour-and-three-quarters set, Hozier focused largely on material from this year’s sophomore album, “Wasteland, Baby!,” which sounded good enough on record but almost uniformly improved in the live experience. Sometimes the upgrade came from making full use of the multi-instrumentalists on hand. The first album’s “Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene” now had Hozier on guitar facing off against violinist Emily Kohavi, trading solos — and if it’s hard to hear an electric guitar/fiddle duel without automatically thinking “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” it was one of many welcome moments making use of the MVP skills of Kohavi, the newest addition to the band. Other times, the improvements on the album versions just had to do with Hozier allowing himself louder and gutsier guitar tones. He’s a bit like Prince, in that way — someone you’d happily listen to playing a very nasty-sounding six-string all night, although he has so many other stylistic fish to fry, which in this case means a still slightly greater emphasis on acoustic finger-picking.

For somebody who made his name on as forlorn but powerful an anthem as his 2014 breakout smash “Take Me to Church,” and who can milk that melodrama for all it’s worth, Hozier has a lot of other modes he can default to. He treads very lightly into the area of soul with songs like “Almost (Sweet Music),” the lyrics of which consist of either name-checking or alluding to some of the great jazz vocal classics of the 20th century, in an idiom that’s not so much jazzy itself as folk-R&B. You could almost cite it as the subtle kind of Memphis-swing thing Justin Timberlake should aspire to, if the tricky polyrhythm and oddly chopped up meters Hozier adds as wrinkles weren’t so un-replicable. Bringing up Stevie Wonder’s “Living for the City” as the night’s sole cover also established that early ‘70s era and sound as an influences he’d like to make perfectly clear. At the other extreme, this son of a blues musician can hard back to those roots so well, in noisy numbers like “Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue)” and the brand new “Jack Boot Jump,” that he could give the Black Keys a run for their money.

“Jack Boot Jump,” which is scheduled to go on an EP of completely fresh material that Hozier said he plans to put out before Christmas, was possibly the highlight of the night, even though — or because — it stripped his excellent band down to just him and longtime drummer Rory Doyle. Having earlier played the current album’s “Nina Cried Power,” which is maybe more of a tribute to other historic protest songs than one of its own, Hozier gave a lengthy introduction to “Jack Boot” indicating that he’s aware of the traps that come with the territory. “I do have some reservations about the words ‘protest song’ and ‘protest music,’” he admitted. “But if you’re familiar with an artist called Woody Guthrie, he wrote the evergreen anthem ‘Tear the Fascists’ down. I was kind of looking into songs in that sort of tradition, that singing out, and I was worried that this is 2019; it’s a very unsubtle way to approach songwriting.” But, he added, “it was a funny few weeks, with 70 people shot in Hong Kong and arrests obviously in Moscow; Chile now at the moment also. And I was thinking, forget about subtle art — what is not subtle is this murder of protesters, and what is not subtle is the jack boot coming down in Orwell’s picture of the future: ‘If you want to imagine the future, imagine a jack boot stomping on a human face forever,’ that chilling quote from ‘1984.’ Anyway, I was just thinking, yeah, f— it, it’s not subtle, but let’s do it.” His electric guitar proceeded to be a machine that kills fascists, and also just slayed as maybe the most rock ‘n’ roll thing he’s written. (Evidence of the new song on the web is scant, or should be, anyway, since he begged the audience “in good faith” not to film it.)

If there’s a knock people have on Hozier, it tends to be the sincerity thing. He’s a nice guy who’s finishing first, which doesn’t necessarily help him become an indie-rock darling or Pitchfork favorite. (Predictably, “Wasteland, Baby!” got a 4.8 rating there — that’s out of 10, not 5.) At the Greek, there was an almost wholesome feeling that would’ve been an immediate turnoff to anyone who insists on having their rock rough, starting with his graciousness in repeatedly naming the band members and repeatedly thanking his opening act (Madison Ryann Ward, a fetchingly husky-voiced Oklahoman filling in on this part of the tour for a laryngitis-stricken Freya Ridings). That extended to a sense of uplift in many of the songs that doesn’t always match the themes of the material. But then, there was the impossible good cheer and attractiveness of the young players, to match Hozier’s own; this is a group where everyone looks as if they could be in Taylor Swift’s band or actually looks like Taylor Swift. The swoon factor in Hozier’s appeal is undeniably high, and it’s safe to say no one left Griffith Park less smitten.

But ladies (and gentlemen), do be aware that Hozier has some dark-side moments that can almost make Leonard Cohen look like Stephen Bishop. The only time he really overtly accentuated that in concert was in introducing and playing the new album’s “No Plan,” a love song that is also an amiable statement of atheism in which Hozier reminds his beloved that the universe is going to collapse upon itself someday. This may be rather like the gambit in which the ‘50s boy gets the girl to make out with him in a fallout shelter, but in any case, Hozier didn’t stint on the end-of-all-things aspect of it, even putting up on screen behind the band a statement from astrophysicist Dr. Katie Mack pointing out humankind’s and the galaxy’s ultimate fate. (“Honestly I never really imagined I’d end up being name-checked in a song for talking about how the universe is eventually going to fade out and die so this is all very exciting for me,” Mack tweeted in replay earlier in the year.) Suffice it to say that with that soulful a vintage ‘70s groove and that fuzz-tastic a guitar line, many babies will be conceived to the tune of “No Plan,” whether it foresees generational lines ending in a godless black hole or not.

Other Hozier songs reveal darker gets more estimable the more you dig into it. With its bird talk, “Shrike” sounds sweet enough, till you realize that a shrike is a kind of bird that impales its prey on thorns, which does add a rather bloody metaphoric undertone to what sounds like a reasonably pacifist breakup song. “Dinner & Diatribes,” meanwhile, is just deeply horny, not thorny. The most brooding song of the set, “Talk,” has verses where Hozier sings in lofty, literary terms about the romantic myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, only to reveal in the chorus that he’s talking to this woman in such high-minded terms because he just wants to charm her into the sack. As a piece of writing, it’s hilarious, establishing a devilish side of Hozier it’s good to hear. As a piece of performance, it’s just sexy.

But as enriching as it is to realize Hozier has a healthy sense of humor in his writing, bad-boy wit is never going to be what you’re going to come away from a Hozier album or show with. The main part of Friday’s concert ended, as expected, with “Take Me to Church,” his outraged take on abuse and homophobia in the scandalized Catholic church — which just happens to be easily taken as a lusty hymn to sexuality. Following that, the large band returned to a stage that had now been decked out in some kind of ivy, as Hozier talked about his love for the late Irish poet Seamus Heaney (whose last words he has tattooed on his arm) and, “since I’ve come this far,” went ahead and recited his poem “Mint,” sharing his hero’s affection for the plant and its “tenacity for life.”

Tenacity is likely to be a buzzword, too, for Hozier, given his leaps and gains as a writer-performer and seeming level head atop his tree-top shoulders. Taller still of voice, musical dexterity and good will — and still just 29 — he’s somebody the swooners and even some cynics should feel good about settling in with for a very long Irish ride.

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

Inside The Criminal Mind (Part 21)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 1831

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was several days early, nearly a week. You stopped by Dexter’s work before leaving, giving him a hug, telling him you’d update him as soon as you could. He nodded and thanked you for being a good friend and apprentice.

You boarded a civilian plane back home. You worked it out with the university to have your last exams proctored by someone else. You grabbed everything you could, packed it in your suitcases, and headed home. Spencer wasn’t expecting you, and he might even be angry but right now, you were being selfish, so you didn’t care if he was ready for you or not.

You texted Emily, asking if they were in town or not. She might’ve wondered why you didn’t just ask Spence, so you prefaced it with it being a surprise and that you and Spence weren’t talking much since you were busy with finals. She informed you everyone was at the office, and expected to wrap up around six.

To this, you went ahead and headed home. You dropped your suitcases inside the dining room, out of sight, so that when Spence came in, he would see you first.

You waited for what seemed like centuries. You had no idea how he would react. He might even try to throw you out of the house, which you wouldn’t even know how to respond if he did.

Finally, a key turned in the lock and he came in. Your heart was all but hammering out of your chest as your palms got clammy. You got up from the couch and walked to stand in the archway between the foyer and the living room. Spence turned, dropping his keys in the bowl, his face forlorn before he caught you out of the corner of his eye.

He slightly jumped. “Y/N? What are you doing here? I thought you had more classes?” he asked evenly.

“I do. I… I got another professor to proctor them,” you explained, wanting to close the gap between you two so badly that it hurt.

Spencer frowned. “So why are you here?”

“I was… I was having dinner with Dexter, and he said that if you were going to turn me in, that I should use my last days doing what I want, whatever makes me happiest. I thought about it, about what I’d want to want to do with my last days of freedom,” you informed, taking a few steps closer, wringing your hands nervously. You couldn’t help it, wanting to be closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he was going to have to shoot you, because you couldn't stand it any more. “And I want you. I want to be with you. Spend time with you. I don’t care if you have to pretend to like me, swallow your hate for me. I just want you, I want us, again, for a few days. Just before you turn me in. I know you don’t owe me anything but I’d have these days anyway, according to you. And… and that’s what I want from them… time with you,” you told him, a little bit out of breath.

You braced now for his total rejection. That’s all that was logical. Spencer wouldn’t, he couldn’t possibly entertain this idea. But you felt he had to know.

“I’m not turning you in,” he suddenly started, dropping his bag on the floor casually.

“You’re not?” you asked, stunned. “Why not?”

He let out a breath and said, “I’ve thought about it… and I understand where you’re coming from.”

Shock, more than joy flooded your system. Sure, you felt relieved, but this was certainly a surprise.

“You… you do?”

He gestured towards the couch and you followed him.

“When I was in prison and I saw them kill Luis right in front of me… something in me snapped. I think between being falsely accused, watching the violence unfold, and the stress of our job, I just snapped. I wanted revenge. I’d never felt that before, but here was my friend, who got murdered in front of me. It’s like when we wanted revenge on Foyett, or Doyle. I felt that, sure. Morgan did too. That’s why we exhausted everything to find them. But we didn’t plan on killing them. Part of me wanted them gone, with no chance of getting out of prison but I knew that wasn’t right and it would make me the same as them.”

“So… then why in prison…”

“I guess because I felt trapped. In there, there is no law. It’s favors, bribes, nepotism. It’s about who knows who. Telling guards wouldn’t have mattered. Telling the team wouldn’t have mattered. It’d be just another prison shanking. But inside, I could do something about it, give Luis some sort of justice. In there, I wasn’t Spencer Reid BAU agent - I was Spencer Reid, wrongly committed felon being targeted. So I turned into something else, and when I listened to the part of me that said Luis deserved justice…. Well I gave it to him the only way I knew how.”

“That’s… kind of what I’ve been doing with Dex. You wondered why he doesn’t just turn it over to the cops? Well he doesn’t exactly use legal channels. He breaks into homes to find proof, checks their cars, fakes identities, he goes through great lengths to prove their guilt. Things we can’t do on this side of the system. There’s no way we’d ever be granted a warrant for some of the people he’s found. Like, this one guy was a car salesman right, these two brunettes went in trying to buy a car from him. He had their home address, their name, he knew they were single…Dexter discovered that Hicks ran credit checks on the women to get insight into their private lives, finding out if they lived in homes or apartments and if they had any pets, making it easier to identify which women would be easier targets. Hicks covered his tracks by getting the women a deal at another car dealer, thus hiding his own presence in the paper trail.” You bit your lip as you tried to muster the courage to say the next part. “Spence, he went in their homes and brutally raped and murdered them. Cops had no real leads. They had DNA, sure, but this guy wasn’t in the system. Dex went, pretended he was a customer, and there, he met Hicks’ probable next victim. So he struck that night. The guy confessed to it all.”

Spencer sat there nodding. “I don’t doubt that he’s got a solid means of finding and disposing of these people, Y/N. And you’ve explained he’s just… built this way.”

“Yeah, without the code his cop father gave him, he’d be another one of our unsubs.”

“Y/N, he is one of our other unsubs,” he stressed as a reminder. “But what I want to know is… what about you? Is this just how you are or is this just the job getting to you or… where does this newfound compulsion come from?”

“Well, it’s not a compulsion. I could stop, if I wanted to,” you explained. “I just… feel good knowing that ultimately we are saving lives. Like I said, we can’t get all of these people over to the cops and even if we did, most would just bail out of jail until their trial and possibly kill again. I honestly feel like I am just doing my job without all the red tape and chance for them to do it again.”

He sat across from you, pressing his lips together.

“I know, I sound like every delusional unsub we’ve ever had. That I have a cause and mine’s worthy, but if you say you could go to a darker part of yourself when you were in prison, feeling like your back is against the wall, then I feel like I’m doing the same thing. My back is against the wall with my hands tied out here, waiting on warrants, hoping juries find them guilty, and so… this is what I turned to. Vigilante justice.”

“And I understand that. I thought about it and I can’t… I can’t really judge you when I did the same thing.”

A long awkward pause filled the air before you finally spoke, the waiting killing you.

“So… what do we do now?” you asked, holding your breath.

“Seeing as I attempted murder in jail, and you did it out here… I think we’re even.”

“And Dex?”

“He’s free to live in Miami. We all will just forget the whole thing and go back to our lives. You give up everything you know, everything he taught you, and he can go back to his life down there.”

You eyed him up and down. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t say I blame you. Since prison and Cat, and the whole Ben’s Believers and getting abducted… I can’t say homicide hasn’t crossed my mind a time or two.”

You bobbed your head. “Right… And what about us? Are we going to go back to normal? Do I need to sleep in the guest room for a while?”

“I have… no idea. I look at you and see my wife, then I remember what you did… and how you lied to me about it for months…”

All you could do was nod, biting your lip as you kept the tears back.

“I know, that was the worst part.”

“Lying to me?”

You raised your head to face him properly. “Yeah. I know, it sounds fucked up and twisted. I was killing people. But honestly, coming home to you, seeing you, and lying about what I was doing, who I was… It was horrible. Regardless of what I did, what I am, I do love you. I’d take a bullet for you. I still miss your smile, I still love your laugh, I still pray for you to tell me random facts. Whether you believe me or not, I am very much in love with you.”

He smiled slightly. “I believe you.”

You chewed your lip before adding. “Even if you turned me in, I wouldn’t fault you or hate you. I’d love you all the same.”

He merely nodded his head a few times. “I know.”

A faint smile ghosted your lips. “Well… you’ve had a long day at work. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you get ready for bed and I’ll go put my things up in the guest room.”

He nodded and you two went your separate ways for the most part. You put the items in your suitcase up while Spencer readied himself for bed.

It wasn’t ideal. And his coolness towards you stung to your core.

But at least you weren’t going to prison or getting a divorce. So, all in all, this was the best case scenario.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#inside the criminal mind #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #dexter #dexter morgan #dexter fic

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jemelle · 4 years

Text

these are ties that bind (3/8)

you can also find this story on ao3!

fandom: criminal minds

rating: t

(chapter) word count: 2,861

masterlist

summary: emily and hotch must pretend to be in a long-term relationship in order to foster carrie. shenanigans and serious conversations alike ensue.

three.

On Monday, Emily took Carrie to her first day of school. Hotch had wanted to come, but he had to take Jack to nursery. Secretly, Emily was pleased to have this moment alone with Carrie. She remembered all too well the feeling of starting a new school, getting used to a whole new set of customs and rituals.

She had called the principal yesterday and received her express assurances that Carrie would be able to start school mid-year. Her credits would transfer over, but Emily knew that wasn’t the difficult part. It was starting classes when everyone else knew each other’s names, when they had silently picked a seating chart and knew who they’d partner with for group projects.

Carrie had insisted on finding the school office by herself, although Emily had offered to come with her. She had suggested (facetiously, knowing Hotch would never tolerate it) that her FBI badge might help smooth things over, which had drawn a much-needed laugh. She had also suggested that Carrie should think about taking some honors classes, but decided to shelve the conversation when she saw the obvious flashbacks her request had caused.

They pulled up in front of the school, an imposing brick building that reminded Emily of the quintessential high school from every teen movie. Students were already streaming into the building, chattering as they went along.

Emily searched for the right words to assure Carrie that she was capable of doing this. She was sure Hotch would have made an eloquent speech, but heartfelt sentiments were never her forte. She settled for flashing Carrie a smile and a thumbs-up.

Carrie smiled back and reached across the console to hug Emily, who reciprocated with only a moment’s hesitation. Two hugs in almost as many days was new territory for Emily, who tended to receive them more on a bimonthly basis, but she had a feeling it might become the new normal.

Emily watched Carrie walk towards the school until she had disappeared through the front doors. The honks of cars behind her informed her that she was holding up the carpool line, but Emily didn’t feel even a little sorry.

By Wednesday, Emily knew the jig was up. JJ had been shooting her and Hotch strange glances all day, looking as if she was trying to resist blurting something out in front of the entire bullpen. As Emily passed by JJ’s office, she felt a hand dart out and grab her wrist. Before she could respond, Emily was pulled into the darkened office.

“What do you want?” She knew, of course, but it was better to let it play out. There was a chance, albeit minuscule, that JJ simply wanted Emily’s help in planning a surprise party for Rossi.

“Is this true?” JJ thrust the paper into Emily’s face. It was the address change form that she had just submitted. Damn. She and Hotch had been hoping the paperwork would pass to Strauss unnoticed, but they should have known JJ was never anything less than thorough.

“Yeah, it is.” She’d answered the question, technically, but they both knew that wasn’t what JJ was really asking.

“But you’re not attracted to men.” Emily had come out to JJ during one of their “girls’ nights,” while Garcia was fetching another round of drinks. JJ had been talking about some guy at the bar who she thought was cute, and Emily had felt something snap in her. She didn’t want to have to hide anymore: she knew JJ would be accepting even if she didn’t fully understand. And so Emily had blurted it out before she really knew what she was doing. JJ, to her credit, had blinked once before asking Emily if there were any girls at the bar she thought were good-looking.

“Thanks, I know.” She hadn’t meant to sound so peeved, and regretted it immediately when she saw a look of hurt flash on JJ’s face.

“I’m just looking out for you.” Some days it felt as though that was JJ’s real job, caring for the team and trying to remind them not to lose sight of the mundane life they were fighting to protect. It was mostly futile, and they all knew it.

“I know,” said Emily, smiling at JJ and reaching out to squeeze one of her hands.

JJ looked horrified as a thought came to her. “Hotch didn’t make you do this, did he?” At that, Emily nearly doubled over with laughter.

“God, no. If anything I forced his hand.” JJ looked confused, and Emily didn’t blame her. Present situation included, there were very few worlds in which Emily would voluntarily ask Hotch to move in with her.

“So, remember when you said you could see me with kids?” JJ nodded, realization beginning to dawn on her face. “Well, Hotch is currently helping me take care of Carrie and neither of our apartments was suitable for two adults, a teenager, and a very energetic toddler.”

“Does he know about…” JJ gestured vaguely at Emily. “...you?” This time, Emily didn’t bother pretending innocence.

“No,” she said. “And I don’t plan on telling him. There’s no reason for me to do so. Even if our marriage is a sham, that doesn’t mean I’m going to cheat on him.” Emily had been firm in that belief since she had hatched this scheme. Hotch was a man who took fidelity seriously, and she couldn’t do that to him, especially after Haley.

JJ clasped her other hand around Emily’s and squeezed. “Don’t get hurt, okay? And if you do, tell me so I can kick his ass into next week.”

Emily grinned. The fierceness of JJ’s love reminded her of how lucky she was to have found her place at the BAU. “Just, please, keep this between us,” she entreated JJ, before walking to Hotch’s office to inform him that they had been made.

Apparently, two year olds don’t usually attend school full-time. Emily had, but Hotch’s horrified look when she told him conveyed to her that this was yet another example of Elizabeth Prentiss’s less than superb parenting. Jack went to preschool three days a week, but the rest of them he spent with either Hotch or Haley.

On Thursday, Hotch was called away to an early morning meeting. The higher-ups were making budget cuts again, and Emily knew he and Strauss would have to fight tooth and nail just to avoid losing a member of the team. Carrie had already decided that she would prefer to take the bus to school, which left just Jack and Emily. She had the day off, courtesy of Hotch, providing no urgent cases arrived. At noon, she was supposed to drive Jack to Haley’s house, but right now they were enjoying a quiet morning together.

As she finished up her paperwork, Emily kept one eye on Jack, who was playing with his extensive dinosaur collection. She sighed when she signed the last form, relieved to be done so early. There was a new sci-fi anthology that she had been meaning to read. Emily shut her eyes, intending on resting them for a brief moment before starting her book, but opened them again when she heard movement beside her. Jack had clambered up on the couch next to her and was staring at her intently.

“Read?” he asked, gesturing at a picture book on the side table. Emily picked it up.

“I don’t know if I’ll be very good at it.” She was still getting used to living with a toddler. So far, she had managed to avert any world-ending cataclysms, but being alone with Jack was an entirely different situation. This time, there was no backup.

“Read,” he insisted, so Emily did. Jack wasn’t shy about informing Emily when she did things wrong. Apparently she read too fast and she didn’t do the voices like his Mommy did. When Emily completed the first book, saying “The End” in what she hoped was an appropriately dramatic tone of voice, Jack pointed to another one. Before she knew it, it was time to take Jack to Haley’s.

She had only met Haley a few times, but Emily harbored an intense dislike for anyone who would hurt Aaron Hotchner. They may not be the best of friends, but watching Hotch’s face fall every time Haley informed him that he would arrive in DC too late to see Jack would make any sane person sympathize. This was only compounded upon actually meeting Jack; he would stay up as late as possible if it meant he could see his father.

Emily strapped Jack into his car seat, struggling briefly with the buckles. She didn’t understand how Hotch could make it look so effortless. As soon as they left the neighborhood, she began blasting Melissa Etheridge, not caring what other people could hear. Her day off, her music.

She turned the music down as they arrived in Haley’s neighborhood. The cookie-cutter houses reminded Emily of her and Hotch’s neighborhood, but this area was much more affluent. Even with a lawyer’s salary, she would bet Hotch and Haley had taken out a large loan to afford to live here.

Haley was already standing on the front porch when they arrived. Emily checked her watch: five minutes early. Good. She looked surprised to see Emily clamber out of the car, though Hotch had already cleared it with her. Emily sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening as the straps to Jack’s car seat came undone easily. The last thing Hotch needed was to have Emily look incompetent.

Jack refused to walk the two hundred or so feet to Haley, so Emily scooped him up and headed towards the house. When she reached the porch, Emily set him down, and he toddled over to give Haley a hug. She beamed at him, and the wrath clutching Emily’s heart loosened slightly.

“Thank you,” Haley said. Emily smiled thinly at her.

“Hotch will be by to pick him up tomorrow.” Safer to stick to business. It lessened the chance Emily would say something she’d immediately regret. She waved at Jack. “Bye, kiddo. See you soon.”

“Bye, Auntie Emily!” he chirped in response. That was new. She had just been Emily so far, or ‘mily if Jack was especially sleepy. She’d have to check with Hotch that the nickname could stay, but Emily found she quite liked it.

Jack walked through the open door, and though Haley turned to watch him, she didn’t go inside. Emily loitered on the porch, sensing their conversation wasn’t finished. She was right.

“Does he make you happy?” Haley’s voice lacked malice. Emily supposed she was curious; it must have been a long time since Hotch had made Haley happy.

She considered the question. Obviously, there was a right answer, given the pretend nature of their relationship. But as Emily thought about Hotch’s kindness towards her and Carrie, the way he was willing to risk Jack, the best thing in his life, so that Emily could have a chance to care for a child the way he did, she realized it was also the true answer.

“Yes.” Haley headed inside without a response, and Emily couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or irritated. It didn’t bother her either way.

When Emily poked her head into the living room, she saw Carrie sitting calmly on the couch. It was late and she had assumed that Carrie had already gone to bed, but apparently this was not the case. When Carrie noticed her staring, she motioned Emily to sit with her. Emily settled on the ottoman facing Carrie.

“What’s up?” she asked, feeling strangely as though she were the child in this situation, as if Carrie were the one summoning her for an intervention.

“Where’s Hotch?” A neat sidestep, and one that only served to further intrigue Emily.

“Getting ready for bed, I suspect.” Although Emily’s experience living with men was somewhat limited, Hotch took more time in the bathroom than any other man she’d met, although she respected that it meant she didn’t have to see him change.

As if summoned, Hotch emerged, freshly showered and wearing pajamas. He smelled like shaving cream, Emily reflected as he sat down next to her, and something else she couldn’t place. Although she made no move to initiate contact, Emily nevertheless felt more solid with him next to her. Whatever Carrie had to say, they could deal with it, together.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Carrie started. “For taking me in when no one else would.”

Emily reached out to clasp Carrie’s hands, squeezing them tightly, but it was Hotch who spoke, his voice clear and words familiar. “Carrie, there’s no need to thank us--”

“But you don’t need to pretend anymore.” Emily and Hotch exchanged a look, but it was not a glance between friends (or whatever they were). It was the same look they exchanged when an unsub revealed crucial information during an interrogation. What did Carrie know?

“What?” Emily had learned early how to feign innocence. It had saved her more times than she could count, from escaping the wrath of Elizabeth Prentiss to baiting a suspect to pretending to not be so fucked up when pretty girls hit on her in bars.

Carrie, however, was having none of Emily’s act. “You know what I mean. You expect me to believe that you’re married to a man who you don’t even call by his first name?”

Emily felt again like a chastened child, called out with one hand in the cookie jar. She looked to Hotch for moral support, but he looked as blindsided as she felt. When he turned to face her, she could see mounting rage in the way his body tensed, although his face remained impassive as ever. Then Emily remembered their one rule: don’t lie to Carrie.

“You got us there,” said Hotch. Emily marveled at the way he could switch from angry to personable in a moment, although the glare he first shot Emily made clear that they were going to talk later. “Was it just the names that gave us away?”

Gathering information on their tells, that was smart.

“The names were definitely a giveaway.” Carrie considered them for a moment. Mostly, though, it was the lack of touching. I can see no kissing --maybe you’re just very private people-- but you don’t even hold hands and I’ve only seen you hug once.” She gestured at them. “Even now, you’re sitting with a couple inches between you.”

Right now, Hotch would probably prefer they sat even farther away, Emily thought bitterly.

“But I’m not going to say anything, if that’s what you’re upset about.” With that level of perception and intuition, Carrie would make a grade-A profiler. Not that Emily would wish their lives on anyone.

Emily still didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded as Hotch spoke again. “Thank you for trusting us.” He checked his watch. “It’s late. Are you going to bed now?”

Callie responded affirmatively and slipped out of the room, leaving Emily and Hotch in stony silence. When Hotch spoke again, his voice contained undisguised anger. “Prentiss, what the hell was that?”

The use of her last name only stoked in her a desire to fight back. Emily might break down crying, but Prentiss wouldn’t. Prentiss wasn’t vulnerable, wouldn’t apologize.

“Don’t yell at me,” she hissed. Hotch stiffened, then softened at the look on Emily’s face.

“I’m sorry. It was out of line for me to speak like that, but what you did was also out of line. We agreed no lying to Carrie.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. Self-loathing welled inside her. How could she have ever thought she was good enough to be a parent when she couldn’t even keep a basic promise?

“Emily?” If she lifted her head there would be no denying the tears in her eyes.

“I tried to. It just… I just…” failed, she finished mentally. Couldn’t deal with the idea that what was maybe my only chance at motherhood could disappear. Although she wasn’t willing to verbalize those thoughts, she still felt she owed it to Hotch to try and explain. “I got scared. And I know you’ve heard this a lot recently, but I’m sorry.”

Hotch didn’t tell her she shouldn’t be sorry. She had messed up, and they both knew it. Now the only question was what he would do. Never trust her again, Emily supposed. Their partnership had seemed so promising, but of course she had ruined it. Outside of work, she could never do anything right.

“Next time, Emily, I just need you to tell me.” After years spent under the thumb of the Catholic Church, finding someone with a true capacity for forgiveness always surprised Emily. Hotch had surprised her again and again.

“I will, Aaron,” she said, trying out the unfamiliar name on her tongue. It still felt a little too strange, not natural enough for casual conversation, but she could work on it. “I won’t let you down.”

It was a tall order to live up to, but Emily had to try.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #queerminal minds #*mine #*fic #these are ties that bind

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