#cmfic

[jenny-from-the-bau]

I just keep thinking about Emily having a really terrible brain day and she's mid-anxiety attack and shows up at JJ's house, but JJ isn't home. She took the kids to sleepover with her mother for Jareau bonding time.

Will answers the door instead. He's not close with Emily, but that's his wife's best friend and he's also a nice guy, so he lets her in. Immediately, he sits her at the kitchen island and starts making food. He doesn't know what she needs, but no one hates a lamontagne omelet.

Emily is crying into her hands, barely aware of where she is, and Will is just talking. He's telling her about how he likes to watch old episodes of Friends when he's home alone. JJ doesn't like the show and the kids don't get it. He likes how it makes him feel nostalgic. His accent is a little hard to understand, so Emily has to really listen to him.

When he's done cooking, he puts a plate in front of her and sits beside her. Emily doesn't know what to say, so she just starts eating. The omelet is amazing and she looks at him with wide, red eyes and hums in appreciation. He gets the message.

Emily finishes the entire plate of food and Will drags her to the couch. He just starts the episode of Friends from the beginning, settles in beside her, and covers them both with a blanket. Emily feels a little bewildered at the fact that her best friend's husband made her a midnight omelet and now they're having a sleepover.

It's nice. Sleepovers with the girls can be loud and energetic and it would honestly be a lot for Emily right now. Will doesn't try and talk. He just laughs at the jokes in the show and occasionally adjusts the blanket.

Emily calms down somehow. She's never been in a situation like this, so maybe it's the shock that slowly pulls her from her anxiety attack. Maybe it's the hot meal, comfy blanket, and quiet company. She starts to drift off, smiling as Will chuckles to himself.

Eventually, she's close enough to sleep that Will decides it's time to turn in. He shuts the tv off, scoops Emily up in his arms, and carries the exhausted woman to bed. They're already in pajamas, so he just climbs in beside her, tucks them both in, and falls asleep.

In the morning, JJ finds Emily tucked against Will's chest. He's holding her close, one hand loosely tangled in her black hair, and JJ can tell that they've been there for hours. She isn't sure how they ended up here, but she knows she'll find out eventually. In the meantime, she heads for the kitchen and starts working on a batch of pancakes. They won't be as good as The LaMontagne, but they'll have bananas and chocolate chips, and that's not too bad.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #will lamontagne #jennifer jareau #og #cmfic

[her-storybooks]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 7 'Red to Black.'

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner & You, Aaron Hotchner/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Reader, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia Additional Tags: Making Out, Desk Sex, Light Smut, unspoken feelings, Angst, i guess, request, Aaron Hotchner is hot, Hurt Hotch, Almost Caught, Secret Relationship, Canon crime cases, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Drunk Aaron Hotchner, Everyone keeps secrets, Angst and Drama, Crime Fighting, Mystery, Episode Related

Chapter Summary: Hotch catches Y/N sleeping at her desk. But when pressed for answers, refuses to tell him why she’s been acting so strange. During their latest case, we finally begin to unravel the secrets Y/N has been keeping from her team.

Chapter Notes: Oh, dear reader, this took a long time to write. I had written the whole chapter and then boom! Computer crashed and I lost the whole thing! The episode ‘Scared to Death’ runs in the background of this chapter, but it’s not the focus of this chapter. You’ll see!

There was nothing remarkable about walking into work on Monday morning. The process of going through metal detectors, flashing his ID card, and stepping into the elevator was a series of movements he could do with his eyes close. Yet this regular routine was comforting to Hotch. The team had been gifted a real weekend off. After running around after a traumatized drug addict on a revenge fuelled rampage. Hotch had gone home and held his son close, closer, and tighter than usual. Hotch welcomed Jack’s squirms and protests of “too tight daddy! Let go!” It showed Jack was still not completely in-depth to the small changes in Hotch’s mood after a difficult case. One day he will be older and understand why their hugs sometimes suddenly became tighter. He will be more aware of the dangers of this world. Right now, however, his young naivety meant tight hugs were just a nuisance when he was trying to play with his toys. The weekend had been filled with rare treats and visits to the park and zoo. Too much ice cream and chocolate had been allowed along with running around the apartment with piggyback rides. Now Monday morning returned the Hotchner boys back to their routines. Bedtimes were back in play; sweets were a treat and Dad’s hugs were now an acceptable tightness. Jack went to school and Hotch went to work.

Hotch walked into the ball pen, staring at his phone as he approached the small flight of stairs to his office. His swift rhythm stopped when his foot hit the bottom step. He heard a small snore and a rustle of paper. Turning his head towards the sound, he saw Y/N slumped over her desk. Her legs were crossed and resting on the cushion of her chair. Her body hunched over the table as her head rested on her overlapped arms. Her black leggings and fluffy socks a strong contrast to the FBI’s dress code. Her white t-shirt and grey hoodie clung to her skin as it stretched with her sleeping movements. Frowning heavily Hotch put his phone in his pocket and took large strides to Y/N’s desk.

“Y/N,” he nudged her shoulder gently.

It was like prodding a sleeping guard dog. Her eyes shot open in panic, quickly followed by her hands rapidly reaching for her gun. “It’s me! It’s me!” Hotch insisted loudly, hands stretched out to show no weapons. He saw the sleepy fear haze disappear from her pupils as she recognized the colors and shapes in front of her. Her shoulders relaxed, and her hands retreated away from her gun.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s seven. Y/n what are you…”

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#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds #read insert #cm fanfic #cmfic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x y/n #aaron hotch fic #cmfics

[lizziespens]

hi there!

it's nice to meet you. thanks for stopping by :) i've been on tumblr for over ten years (ouch, i'm old) but i've never had the courage to post anything i've written anywhere. i'm not sure why, i think it's definitely rooted in a fear that there'll be no positive response (which, understandable but i don't think my brain could handle it).

most of the pieces i've written are criminal minds based (specifically JJ and the team) and i was thinking of sharing but i'm not sure that there's quite a "market" for the show/characters anymore. i guess, if you stumble across this, and you are interested, i'd love to know so maybe i'll work up the courage to share something :)

(ps. i'm sorry if my tags are off, i've only ever been an observer/fan on tumblr, not a post-writer so i apologize if i've done something incorrectly!)

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #agent jareau #emily prentiss #spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #cmfic #criminal minds fanfic

[lez-psycho]

JJ and Emily holding pinkies in a crowd

Orion Is Quiet Tonight

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jemily

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 4,599

"This wasn't a JJ that Emily recognized. This was a shell of Jennifer Jareau that Emily had never seen before. It was like an entity had stolen all of the emotion from the normally expressive woman, and left her as a blank piece of paper with no pencil to draw."

Read on Ao3

#jemily #criminal minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fanfic #cmfic

[evielavorre]

why did you do that? | luke & penelope

warnings: latest episode spoilers, au, fixing canon, writers didn’t even try

it’s ten in the morning on a beautiful day and luke alvez sits blissfully unaware – and on desk duty for the sixth week – of the storm that’s brewing inside the woman who holds his technological future in her perfect hands. high heels tapping the cold metal of the elevator, arms are crossed below her chest, a scowl plastered on her face, penelope garcia steps off the elevators and stalks towards the bullpen. 

jj sees her first and raises her eyebrows before stepping out of her way. reid is next and he doesn’t even make eye contact once he sees her posture. tara is about to say something when matt gently touches her shoulder and shakes his head and when she arrives at luke’s desk it takes all of her composure not to slam a fist down on it to get his attention. an aggressive action she doesn’t think she’s ever taken in her life but something only luke alvez could make her do. instead, she takes a deep breath just as she takes her last step, balls her fists at her sides. “ luke? “ she asks, a sickly sweet tone to her voice she’s never had to use on one of her teammates before. “ can i see you in my office? “ she stomps off before he can answer and he doesn’t need to know by the looks on his teammates faces that he’s in trouble. for what, though, he only has a – faint idea.

the second he sets foot in her office, the scowl is still securely on her face and he only steps in and closes the door once he’s sure she doesn’t have some sort of weapon in her hands. “ what’s up, garcia? “ he asks, hope in his chest that this won’t be nearly as bad as he’s imagining – which dissipates when her eyes narrow on him.

“ you lied to me.” she almost spits out and it’s like a punch to the gut. after everything with phil getting kidnapped and in bad shape when luke finally reached him to lisa leaving, he’s more raw than he’d like to admit. garcia looking at him with hatred and anger in her eyes is almost more than he can handle, worse that he knows exactly what she’s talking about. how right she is. even before he’d been stuck on desk duty and sharing her lair to help the team for the last couple of months, he hadn’t wanted to admit that there was more than protection for either garcia or phil on his mind when he’d lied to both of them. “ you lied, which is so far beyond the realm of things that are ok for two people who are on a team, let alone in a friendship, to do. which i was starting to think we were getting really close to and you know, maybe i was right not to trust you in the beginning because it’s been months since all of that happened. he can’tHANDLE me? you don’t know if i’m looking ? phil told me that he’s asked about me, multiple times and i know that i’ve asked about him so what is it? am i not good enough for your friend? not attractive enough? not manageable enough for someone you care about? would i be good enough if i looked like tara or jj or lisa? am i too eccentric or weird for you? because i’m not trying to be anything for you, luke, and if i’m being honest any goodwill that you’ve accrued over the last two years is gone. it’s done and it doesn’t have anything to do with phil. it’s trust luke.  it’s the most important thing to me. it’s the only thing. “ her eyes betray the hurt she’d been so determined not to show him as she moves past him and opens the door. she steps aside, silently telling him to leave, angry tears she can only will not to fall forming in her eyes.

“ garcia – “ he says softly, rooted to the spot, and it’s all she can do not to look at him. she hates her heart in that second, the part of her that will always tell her to give the people she’s come to care about a second ( third, fourth, fifth ) chance.

“ i have never been made to feel – like you made me feel. i’ve never let anyone make me feel that bad about myself. “

“ i can’t tell you how sorry i am. “

“ i just need to know why, luke. that’s it. is it because you and lisa broke up? you were worried i’d steal your best friends time? i know you need him too. i’m the same way with jj! were you worried that i wouldn’t be good for him? because i’d never hurt him, luke. he’s been through enough. so – so just tell me. i can’t handle it. “

“ no. “ the word comes out more harsh than he’d intended and he finally is able to pick his feet up and stalk out of the small computer room. she grabs his wrist loosely, barely tugging him back.

“ i don’t want to hate you, luke, i don’t want to go back to how it was before. i hated being the ice queen… but i can’t be around someone who makes me feel like i’m not worthy when i know that i am.  “

“ i wasn’t trying to make you feel – “ fingers clench and unclench under her touch, jaw clenched and he can’t find it in himself to look at her. “ unworthy. you’re worthy. you’re beautiful and smart. there was no part of me that didn’t think you were worthy of any and all love. just not from anyone else. “ she let’s go of his wrist as if she’s been burned, and his hand falls back down to his side. she’s quiet for a minute before she can look back up at him, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks.

“ phil said something, when he told me what you said. that you felt – something other than – you said.  he couldn’t handle me. “ she starts slowly, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she stares at him, big brown eyes boring into the back of his head, willing him to take a step back into her office with her. he does, as if she’d said the words out loud. she brings her hand to rest on his cheek, and his eyes finally find hers again. “ who could handle me, luke? “ she asks softly, almost afraid of her next question and the answer despite the hint of a daring smirk on her brightly colored lips. “ you? “

“ god, yes. “ he growls, milliseconds before his lips coming down on hers, boldly breaking the barrier he’s spent so long maintaining. it’s an explosion of passion and  she doesn’t hesitate, he loves that she doesn’t hesitate, to wrap her arms around his shoulders, kissing him back with fervor. his hands find their way to her hips, nudging her softly backwards until her back is against the door and his fingers dig into her hips as she moans against his lips. she feels so much better than he ever could’ve imagined, better than he has ever imagined her pressed up against him. she pulls him closer and her tongue darts past his lips and it’s his turn to moan – which is promptly interrupted by a knock on the door they’re pressed up against. immediately her hands are on his chest and pushing him away, as she runs as quietly as she can in heels to her chair and sits down. eyes wide, she fixes her hair before she motions for him to open the door. her pink lips are swollen and he pulls down his shirt before he rolls his eyes, as if anyone with half a brain wouldn’t notice. she takes a deep breath as he opens the door and rossi steps inside as soon as he he does.

“ i’ve been unanimously volunteered to be the one to come in here and make sure you guys haven’t killed each other. or at least, the kitten hasn’t clawed your eyes out luke. “ there’s a smirk on his face that turns to mild shock as he turns from penelope to luke and – back. “ but it looks like the claws are put away. we have a case, kids. emily needs both of you in the conference room… when you’re ready. “ he winks at garcia before he steps back into the hallway, and her blush has made it’s way from her forehead to her chest in the two seconds it takes him to leave. luke closes the door and her head drops into her hands at her desk.

“ we’re gonna talk about this. “ she says, voice muffled by her hands. “ preferably not here. that can never happen again. “ he almost laughs, his hand finding it’s way over his mouth before any sound can come out and she looks up at him with faux anger in her eyes and a small smile on her lips that threatens to spread across her entire face. “ do no laugh right now, luke alvez. that was not funny. david rossi has caught me in more compromising positions than anyone i’ve ever known, more than my dad did when i was a bad kid teenager, and it’s more embarrassing this time because he KNOWS that i’ve had feelings for you so no laughing ! “

“ you have feelings for me? “ luke asks, laughter completely gone from his voice, replaced by a mixture of hope and realization.

“ if you don’t know the answer to that by now, we were doing it wrong. “  she says simply, though she can’t help but smiling widely as she walks past him and out of her office. “ newbie. “

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #garvez / #cmfic #mine* #guess what b's phil is alive #we're still out here shipping garvez tho #feedback is loved and appreciated ! #<333

[namorres]

target.

pairing | derek morgan x reader

word count | 2627

warnings | none yet

part one | part two | part three | part four

criminal minds masterlist 

|

He’s targeting you, Morgan,” Hotchner warned him, eyes set and cold, “and he will not let up until you break.”

“With all due respect, Hotch,” Derek looked up at his superior and pursed his lips, “I will not break.”

“You don’t know that, Derek,” he said, eyes trained on the agent’s face, “I’ve experienced the lengths they will go to. I know what his kind is capable of. You put him away, so he wants his vengeance. And that means starting with whatever you hold dear.”

Morgan stayed silent, crossing his arms and clenching his jaw. He knew what Hotch meant, he understood every word that came out of his mouth, but he didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that it could be true. That meant that Morgan could be one-upped, that he could be beat.

“Has he tried contacting you? Usually this kind of unsub will call, text, or even mail something to you.”

“No, nothing,” Morgan moved forward and sat down in a chair in front of Hotch’s desk.

“Has he tried contacting y/n? Has she told you about anything strange?”

Derek shook his head, swallowing hard. What if he went after her? What was Derek going to do then? What was he supposed to do if he killed her? So help him God, if that man ever laid a finger on y/n, that would be the last thing he ever did.

“Morgan, if any type of contact ever happens, you have to let me know. Until then, we have to find out what we can, see if we can catch him before it’s gotten too far.”

Morgan just nodded, standing from the chair and wishing Hotch a good night. As he left the office, he pulled out his phone and dialed y/n’s number, putting it to his ear and listening to the dial tone. It took a few rings before she finally picked up, and when she did, Morgan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, “Hey, baby girl.”

“Hey, handsome,” she said, a smile evident in her voice, “where you at?”

“I’m leavin’,” he said, letting out a sigh, “everything okay at home?”

“Yeah, Clooney is goin’ a little stir crazy without you bein’ around, but, everything’s good. Why, what’s up?”

“I,” Morgan started. He stopped himself when he realized that he couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t keep this from her like that. She needed to know so that if anything were to happen, she could warn him. “I’ll explain it all when I get home. What’d you make for dinner tonight?”

“Your favorite,” she said, giggling a little at something else on her side of the phone.

“Say no more, I’m on my way. See you soon, baby girl. Love you,” he smiled, grabbing his jacket from his chair.

“Love you too, D, get home safe,” she pulled away from the phone and ended the call.

Derek walked down to his car and pressed the unlock button on his keys, climbing in and shutting the door. As he put the key in the ignition and started the engine, buzzing filled his ears. He flipped up the phone and saw the caller ID – just a number with a DC area code.

He silenced the call and shook his head, pulling out of the parking garage and getting lost in his thoughts as he drove home. He couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub – Rodrick Freeman, a serial killer with a demented motive to kill any and all couples who came across his path. In his life, the man had never been able to keep a partner, couldn’t even sustain a relationship to the second date.

This, along with the stressor of losing his last family members, brought him to the idea that the only way for him to get off, to get the attention he felt he deserved, was to kill. He started with older, married couples, then slowly moved his way down the spectrum to people who were practically on their first date.

Morgan was the one who caught him all those years ago. Morgan was the one who tackled him, saved a woman who he was about to shoot, and ultimately stopped him from killing ever again. After that, Freeman was the last thing on Derek’s mind. He met y/n maybe six or seven months later, got with her within the year, and they hadn’t broken up since.

In fact, it got more and more serious. Y/n lived with him, bore an engagement ring on her finger, and was the most important thing in Derek’s life, alongside his sisters and his mom. He cherished that woman with everything in him, and it pained his heart and mind to even think about her being hurt.

He shook his head and pulled into his driveway, turning off the car and heading into the house. He opened the front door, being greeted by his dog at the entrance, and hearing her voice come from the kitchen, “Derek, baby, that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart,” he closed the door and locked it, setting his keys down in the basket and walking into the kitchen to where she was. His arms wrapped around her waist and his chin rested on her shoulder, giving a small kiss to her neck before sighing in content. “How was your day, baby girl?”

“Good, kinda boring,” she answered, scraping at the hamburger meat in the pan, “Kyra bothered Josh about getting together again, Emily wouldn’t stop talking about her mom, Damien and Meg broke up – again. Basically same old, same old.”

“Wait, again? Thought they never got back together,” he said, side of his mouth coming up in confusion.

“So did everyone else in the office, but apparently not,” she turned off the stove and then turned around in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck. “She’s crazy, Der, I swear. And that man is no good for her, and everyone tells her that. But does she listen? Hell no.”

Derek laughed, kissing her lips and shaking his head, “Who would’ve thought that working with paralegals was so… drama filled?”

“Tell me about it,” she rolled her eyes, then let her palms rest on his biceps, “so, tell me about your day. How’s the BAU team?”

Derek felt himself stiffen, and he knew that y/n had noticed as soon as he did. Her eyebrows drew together and her fingers pressed a little into his arms, her own way of showing silent worry. “An unsub resurfaced,” he said quietly, “one that I put away a while ago.”

“Oh?” She was intrigued, still staring up at him with concerned and curious eyes.

“Yeah. He was a rough one. Serial killer that killed any couples he found, no matter how far along they were in their relationship,” he paused, watching the cogs in her head turn.

“Did he have a bad history with relationships? Maybe a guy with a quick temper and no types of attention or love?”

Derek pulled away from her for a moment, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, and offering her a something. She nodded, Derek pulling out her drink and handing it to her before he took a swig of his own. “Exactly that. But, anyway, he started targeting this one couple, showed up to their house. But we saw it coming. We got to the house just after he had, and got in just in time for him to tie them up and, uh, start his torture.

“So, I got in there as fast as I could, tackled him, and got the couple out of there safe. Guy got arrested, sentenced to forty years and after that, I just forgot about him.”

“But, what?” She asked, pushing off the stove and taking a drink of her beverage, “Why is he coming back up?”

“He’s out,” Derek said, looking at y/n with a defeated stare, “and he’s, uh, he’s after me.”

Y/n froze, blinking and starting to shake her head, “I-I don’t, I don’t understand. What do you mean, after you?”

Derek cleared his throat, “He killed someone, left a message for me at the scene. Hotch said that this kind of unsub would do anything to get what he wants, and that’s me.”

Y/n sat back, looking at Derek, then down at the floor, “Goddamn.” Her voice was a whisper, a tone of shock, disbelief, and fear lacing her words. “So,” she swallowed, “so what do we do?”

“Nothing,” he crossed his arms, setting down his water, “we do nothing.”

“Nothing? How can we do nothing, Derek? This man, he’s, he’s after you! We can’t just sit around and wait for him to act on you!” Her chest started heaving, and she looked like she was about to cry, “I can’t just let something like that happen to you, Derek. I can’t lose you because of some son of a bitch like him.”

“Baby, hey,” he pushed off the counter, reaching out and pulling her against his chest. Her hands rested against his shoulders, and Derek felt more helpless than he ever had in that moment. “I won’t let him hurt me. I won’t let him do anything to you, to me, to anyone else, okay beautiful? I won’t let it happen.”

She looked up, “Promise me that, Derek.”

He put his fingers underneath her chin, rubbing his thumb against her cheekbone, “I promise you, baby girl. I promise.”

She nodded, then sighed, wiping at her eyes and then smiling, “Okay, okay. How about we eat?”

Derek nodded, kissing her lips softly, then her forehead. “I could eat.”

The rest of the night, they did their best to avoid the subject. By the time the two were in bed, the conversation was in the back of their minds. Derek held y/n against his bare chest, Clooney at their feet, and they fell asleep.

The next morning, Morgan woke up to a cold side of the bed. He groaned, cracking one eye open and looking toward the bathroom. He could see her in there, standing in her bra and a pair of pants. Her hair was semi-wet, and Derek realized that he loved the sight of her getting ready in the morning. “Baby girl?”

She turned to him, “Morning, handsome. There’s still another couple hours before you have to wake up.”

He turned, looking at the clock beside his bed. There was a few hours until he had to get up, but why was she up this early? “Why you up, then? Don’t you go in later than I do?”

“Oh, yeah,” she put in an earring, looking back at the mirror, “got called in early today. Something about Anders needing a hand with a new employee? Didn’t know we were hiring, but I figured why not, right?”

Derek closed his eyes and nodded, his forearm falling over his face, “Ah, okay. I’m gonna go back to sleep, baby. Let me know when you leave?”

“Yeah,” she said. Derek fell back to sleep, waking up a little bit later to her kissing his forehead and wishing him a good day. “Love you, be safe.”

He mumbled back an I love you, too before he went back into his slumber. And, for the last time, he woke up to his alarm going off. He pulled out of bed, rubbing at his chest and stretching out his arms before going through his morning routine, and leaving for work.

His day went by like a blur, beginning in DC and ending in DC, filled with paperwork and random facts from Reid about various Russian historical practices and facilities. As he left the building, calling y/n and checking in with her (like he always did), and heading down to his car, he got a call from the same number as yesterday.

His brows furrowed at the number on the screen, so he answered it, “Hello?”

“Derek,” a man’s voice came into his ear, “SSA Derek Morgan. How are you, old friend?”

Derek looked around him, “Who is this?”

“Who do you think?”

“Freeman,” his jaw clenched, and he let out an angry breath. “What the hell do you want?”

“It’s not about what I want, Morgan. It’s about who,” Morgan could hear the sadistic smile in his voice.

Morgan stayed silent, choosing to listen to the man.

“That who, Morgan. She’s beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No, no, you stay away from her, you hear me? Stay away,” Morgan gripped the phone tighter, climbing into his car and starting the engine.

“I haven’t done anything yet, Derek,” he spoke. “But, rest assured, I will. If this is the reaction I get by even mentioning her, man, what would happen if I actually touched her? If I made her–”

“Stop. Don’t you say another goddamn word, you son of a bitch,” Morgan was angry. Furious. He couldn’t contain the emotions, couldn’t keep himself calm, “You stay the hell away from her, stay the hell away from me.”

The line went dead as soon as Derek’s sentence ended, and he let out a grunt as he threw his phone into the passenger seat. He raced home, whipping into the driveway and practically jogging to the door. It was opened, slightly ajar, and that sent Derek’s heart soaring. His hand went to his gun, pulling it from the clip and raising it.

He walked in, “Y/n? Baby, you here?”

“Derek? That you?” He heard her voice, traveling from their bedroom upstairs. His eyebrows furrowed and he ran up the stairs, looking down the hallway and seeing their bedroom door open.

He walked quickly to the room, gun pointed upward. As he walked in, he saw her standing by the bed, laundry in her hands. She was folding a pair of her shorts, and she almost screamed whenever she looked up to see his gun. “Derek, woah, it’s just me. Put the gun down, baby.”

Derek sighed, placing the gun back in its holster and looking back up at her, “Why’s the front door open?”

“Open? I don’t know,” she let the shorts fall from her hands and land on the bed. “I didn’t hear anything in the house. I’m okay.”

Rubbing his hand across his face, he shook his head and laid on the bed in front of him. He looked up at the ceiling, and whispered, “Y/n, I’m scared.” It was like admitting a fault, a sin, but he couldn’t help it. He had to be honest with her, honest with himself. He was beyond terrified that Freeman was going to do something to her.

“Derek, talk to me,” she said, putting down the laundry and sitting beside him on the bed.

“This unsub, y/n,” he sighed, “he– he’s taunting me. He’s taunting me with you, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, look at me, Derek,” she gently turned his chin to her, “look at me. I’m okay, I’m right here, and I’m okay.”

Derek nodded, pulling her to his chest and pressing a kiss to her forehead. There were a few moments of silence, tense yet comforting silence, before she let out a sigh and said, “Now, you wanna help me with this laundry?”

Laughing, he nodded and then remembered the door downstairs, “Two seconds. Let me go get the door, I’ll be right back.”

Pulling himself up from the bed, he smiled as her hand slid away from his chest and he walked downstairs. Clooney greeted him at the base of the stairs and he gave a quick scratch to the dog’s ears before looking back up at the door.

It was closed.

#derek morgan x reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan gif #derek morgan #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #ash's writings #*cmfic

[susanmichelin]

RULES: List the first lines of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

I was tagged by @nevertothethird so here they are from the most recent to the earliest:

1.  Veronica pulled open the front door to reveal a tall, leggy redhead.

2.  “Kitty!” Wyatt banged her heels against the shopping cart and reached for the black cat costume.

3.  Logan loved the glamour and pizzazz, but this was the world she understood - the dark place beneath the shine, where spouses cheated and people like Big Dick were murdered.

4.  Don't go.  Refusing her was impossible; it would've been easier for him to permanently give up oxygen.

5.  It wasn’t the bridge, but it was a bridge.

6.  "Hey lazy."

7.  Written in playful script across a cotton candy pink awning, the name of the adult store --Frisky Business— fluttered and winked at her, coaxing her inside.

8.  "Why are we having a party?"

9.  "Duncan?" Almost thirteen years and he still looked the same.

10.  It wasn't a big deal.

I’m not sure there are any discernible patterns? Maybe that I like to set the tone and/or setting of the story with the very first words? Overall they’re not too bad. There’s no “it was a dark and stormy night” but they’re not exactly “it was a bright, cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen” either... so there’s definitely room for improvement. 

Anyone notice patterns I’m missing?

I’ll tag @cheshirecatstrut @mysilverylining @theshortywrites @nicemom93 @vmsteenbeans @absolutelyiris and anyone else who wants to play.

#cmfics #nevertothethird #vm fanfic #veronica mars

[destroysworldsaa]

                                          this is my family    !

      you are cordially invited to join     ABBY GRIFFIN    and   MARCUS KANE’s    ever growing family.    housing troubled youths,   abby and marcus wish to give these down and outs a new lease of life and help them find their own path to success.   while juggling their jobs,   the recently married couple help pay for the education of each and every child under their roof,    as well as discipline them and make them model citizens.     of course,   the road to salvation isn’t easy,   especially with a household of delinquents and troublemakers.

      this group verse is set in modern time.   abby and marcus take in troubled youth and look after them.  they feed them , clothe them,   help them through college / uni  /  jobs while all juggling their professional jobs of a high end doctor and a police detective.   the kids stay in the same house,   under the same roof and follow the same rules.   they share rooms and go on adventures.   they even have crushes on each other   (  they aren’t related so ... )

to apply,   send me this small application form here

mun name:    muse name:       muse age:         muse occupation / education status:       url:     discord:

there are a few rules to abide by,   just like any other group verse:

be kind to each other and include each other

smut and triggering content will be allowed

major plots need t be checked with me before hand

this is not first come first served

the ic tag will be cmfic and ooc will be cmfooc

no duplicate faceclaims / characters

must be comfortable to be in a discord server ( rp will happen there and on tumblr )

characters can be reserved for 24 hours

cross over friendly (abby and kane can also be applied for)

discord will not be shared

troubled youth:

clarke griffin   ,   19    ,     studies art history and art at college    ,    @destroysworlds   ,   written by iisms

octavia blake   ,   18    ,     studies environmental science with a minor in theater    ,    @victorybled ,   written by meghan

reserved ( 24 hours only)

bellamy blake

#✦. —————— ❛ shit on my dick. / ooc. ❜ #thought i'd give this a try

[jenny-from-the-bau]

Emily is a relatable queen djakfjajf

#jemily #criminal minds #fanfic #cmfic

[deborarealeimoveis]

Vendo: Citta Maris 2/4 com área de lazer completa. Localização: Br 316 (marítuba) Preço: R$170.000,00 Aceita financiamento (em Imobiliária Débora Reale) https://www.instagram.com/p/CMfIc-7Bx68/?igshid=13oys007p1pzq

[her-storybooks]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 6 'Exhaustion'

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner & You, Aaron Hotchner/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Reader, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia Additional Tags: Making Out, Desk Sex, Light Smut, unspoken feelings, Angst, i guess, request, Aaron Hotchner is hot, Hurt Hotch, Almost Caught, Secret Relationship Canon crime cases Oral Sex Shower Sex Drunk Aaron Hotchner. Chapter Summary: Worry goes both ways when Hotch observes the drained movements of a tired Y/N during a case. But is he the one who needs a comforting shoulder? Could this case hit a bit too close to home for our Unit Chief? Author's Notes: Hello my dear readers! My, my, hasn’t it been some time. Well I hope this chapter is worth the wait. I borrowed a crime from an early episode of Criminal Minds and adapted it to this story line. Enjoy!

If you would like to be tagged in updates, just let me know <3 @sebastiansstanswhore

She looked tired. 

That was the first observation he made when Y/N walked through the door. She still smiled brightly. Her hair was neatly falling on her shoulders as usual. A  large takeaway coffee cup was steaming in her hands as she greeted everyone with her usual tight embraces and eager questions about their weekends. But makeup can only cover so much. It may have brightened the skin under her eyes, but her usual sparkle was slightly dimmed. Hotch stood at his window, looking down at the bullpen and watching his team. He watched to see if anyone else had picked up on Y/N’s tired eyes. Unfortunately, Y/N was good at keeping the focus off of her self. She asked Reid what bizarre foreign film he went to see over the weekend. She asked Emily about Sergio’s latest vet appointment. She even asked Morgan how his date on Saturday went. All of this to successfully keep their focus away from her. 

As it turned out, Hotch wasn’t the only one observing the team from a gentle distance. When Rossi stepped into the bullpen and saw Hotch frowning harshly, he followed the trail from his eyes  towards Y/N. Y/N was busy asking questions, waving her hands to drag her friends’ attention away from her face. Her face that had a dark purple circle hidden underneath concealer and foundation. He smirked as he stepped into the circle of people, ready to stir the pot gently. “And what about you, Bella?” He asked slyly. “What did you do this weekend?”

Read More

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds #reader insert #cm fanfic #cmfic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x y/n #aaron hotch fic #cmfics

[namorres]

target.

pairing | derek morgan x reader

word count | 3183

warnings | mentions of blood 

part one | part two | part three | part four

criminal minds masterlist

|

Shakily, she did as she was told, sliding into the cabin of the truck and helping Freeman get Derek’s body in with her. She leaned against the other door, Derek’s head in her lap, as their abductor slammed the open door shut. She let out a sigh, whimpering a small bit as her fingers caressed her fiancé’s cheek.

Leaning down, she placed a kiss on his forehead, “Please, baby, wake up. Please.”

|

“H-Help,” she stuttered over her words, “help me.” It was selfish, meaningless whine that left her lips, something she knew would do no good in the long run. She had no energy to scream, and she knew that – even if Freeman hadn’t locked the doors, she had no chance of dragging Derek’s body to the building. As she rested her head against the door, she couldn’t help but think about how it had all happened so fast,  how she didn’t even have time to yell out for him in their house.

When he took her, he kept a knife to the bottom of her spine, and a hand over her mouth, quickly walking her to the front door. He took the hand over her mouth off, using it on the doorknob. Had he not pressed the knife deeper into her back, she would have yelled out for Derek, but the searing pain that came from the cut of the blade assisted Freeman in keeping her voice at bay.

He walked her out of the house, then made them stand on the sidewalk, watching Derek’s shadow dance across the curtained windows as he searched for her. Then, as his shadow disappeared, he dragged her into the dark space between their house and the neighbors, laughing as he watched Derek get in his car and drive off.

She let out a shaky breath as she remembered the pain of the knife cutting across the back of her knee, the blood spilling out and onto the floor as he made her walk across the bedroom. He grabbed her hand, taking the ring off her finger as she tried to fight against him, shoving her back onto the bed and leaving the room.

She looked around the room in horror, noticing the pictures on the wall and the jewelry on the dressers. It was a replica of her own bedroom, the photos framed of her and Derek the same as the ones in her own home. She wanted to scream, to cry out, to run out of the house. But she couldn’t walk out of that bedroom, from both physical and mental inhibitions, and she knew that if she did anything to piss him off, she would’ve been dead where she was.

She felt a knot in her throat form at the thought of dying, at the thought of never getting to live her life the way she wanted to, never getting to see Derek, her friends, her family, ever again. It terrified her, more than any situation she was caught in did.

The driver side door to the truck opened, snapping her out of her thoughts as she looked through the little space between the wall of the truck and the seat, watching Freeman clamber into the truck. She heard the spark of wires touching, then felt the vibration of the engine revving to life. She sighed, a tear ran down her cheek and she rested her head against the door behind her.

Her hands cradled Derek’s head, fingers delicately tracing across his features, and her eyes closed as she began to fall into the grasp of fatigue. She began to replay the night through her mind once more, remembering each detail as vividly as possible. She remembered the cut, the idle waiting for him to get back upstairs. She remembered feeling him make a crude stitch to the back of her knee, of which she couldn’t help but whimper through, and then wrap it, whispering that she couldn’t die just yet.

It confused her, truly, to think that he would repair her wounds like that. But it hurt her head to think about it any further; her pulse was slamming against her temple, and the man laying against her legs only reminded her of the pain of the moment. She wished she could help him, that she could uncuff him, get him out of the truck, and away from wherever they were going.

But, the reality of the situation was, she couldn’t.

She was woken by a sudden jolt, and then the sound of a car door slamming. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw that Derek was still unconscious. Then her eyes snapped up to the door opposite to her, watching as it flung open and Freeman grabbed Derek’s ankles, yanking his limp body out of the truck.

She tried to tell him no, tried to pull back on him, but Freeman ended up dragging her, too. Within seconds, they were both lying on the ground, Derek’s wrist beginning to bruise and lacerate, her own wrist already bleeding. Freeman grabbed her by the chin, “Help me, or I shoot him.”

Y/n looked down, then noticing that Freeman was holding Derek’s own gun to his forehead. Swallowing hard, she nodded, “Please, don’t shoot him. Don’t hurt him.”

“Then pick up his arms, and help me,” he said, grabbing Derek by the legs. The two of them dragged him into – what y/n realized was – their house, pulling him up the stairs and then throwing him on the bed. He then loosened Derek’s cuff, grabbing both of her hands and cuffing them behind her while pushing her onto her knees on the floor.

He used Derek’s own cuffs to restrain him, then left the room for a few moments, only to return with duct tape. As he came into the room, he ripped out a piece, tearing it down the edge and pushing it against Derek’s mouth. He left her alone, throwing the tape onto the bed and then walking over to Derek’s body.

Reaching down, he slapped him a few times before Derek woke with a start, jolting forward, then rocking back onto his shoulder, while straining against his cuffs. His eyes darted around until they connected with yours, widening. He tried to speak, his voice coming out as nothing more than a muffled mumble. Freeman grabbed his bicep, pulling him up and onto his knees, across from y/n.

Derek looked up at Freeman with a rage in his eyes that y/n had never witnessed before, and it was more than terrifying to see him so primal. Freeman looked down at Derek with a sadistic grin, pulling his knife out and pointing it toward y/n. “You ever heard her scream?” Freeman laughed as Derek glared up at him in anger, trying to mask his fear through infuriated stares, “I think you should.”

Derek watched as Freeman walked over to y/n, grazing the flat side of the knife across her face and over her chest. She kept her breathing steady, staring at Derek and shaking her head, telling him not to give in. Freeman grabbed her chin, jerking her head upward and asking her where she wanted to be cut.

“Let me go,” she said calmly.

“What’s Derek’s favorite part? Your chest? Maybe, just maybe, your stomach?” As he asked, he let the blade lightly caress the mentioned areas, and a shiver racked her spine. Freeman looked at Derek, watching his reactions to his words. Derek’s eyebrows drew together at the mention of cutting her stomach, and Freeman laughed. “Stomach it is.”

Carefully, he pulled up her shirt, cutting just below her ribcage. She let out a breath, and Derek a grunt, reaching forward, straining against his cuffs once more.

“Son of a bitch,” she whispered, breathing through the stinging sensation pulsing from her stomach.

“No scream?” Freeman taunted, cocking his head to the side, “How about if I cut you again?” Again, he dragged the knife across her skin, leaving another cut opposite the already existing one. He saw the tears well up in Derek’s eyes, so he cut harder on the left side, tracing over his previous cut. Then, y/n began to break.

“Stop,” she said, hissing as he pushed the knife deeper into the cut, “please, stop.”

Freeman let go of her chin, letting her body go limp, “Okay. I’ll stop.” Walking away from her near-limp form, he dropped the knife on their bed, picking up Derek’s gun and turning on the flashlight. Shining it in the bound man’s eyes, he watched Derek squint, flinching at the harshness of the bulb and  trying to see past the light and over to y/n.

He kept the light shining in Derek’s eyes for a few moments longer, before looking over his shoulder at y/n and giving a single nod. Rearing back, he pistol-whipped Derek across the cheek, a cut appearing on his cheekbone. He fell over, grunting in pain, and shutting his eyes. Y/n tried to whisper his name, keeping her cries at bay – the last thing Freeman needed was the satisfaction of her screams.

Freeman walked back over to y/n, dropping down onto his knees and wrapping his hands around her throat. She started to choke, unable to breathe as he gripped tighter and tighter. She coughed, fingers twitching, arms trying to reach forward and claw at his hands. His thumbs pushed on her windpipe, threatening to crush it.

Derek yelled out, voice pushing against the tape across his mouth. Freeman laughed at the yells, loosening his grip on her throat, still threatening her life. Y/n gasped for breath, closing her eyes and coughing. Derek began to thrash on the floor, pushing up and onto his knees, then to his feet.

Freeman let her go, pushing her back on her calves and standing up to Derek. Robert Freeman was considerably shorter than Derek Morgan, standing inches below him. Using this to his advantage, Derek brought his knee up, connecting it with Freeman’s crotch as hard as possible. Doubling over, Freeman cradled himself, his knees beginning to buckle. Again, Derek kneed him, this time connecting with his forehead and knocking him out.

Stepping over to his fiancée, he dropped to his knees and got her attention, speaking through the duct tape over his mouth as best he could. Her chest was heaving, and he felt so powerless, seeing her laying there, unable for him to help. He tried to work the tape off his mouth, moving his lips around until they were finally apart underneath the vocal bind.

“Y/n,” he said, though it still came out muffled. “‘ey.”

She opened her eyes, moving her head so that she could look at him, “Derek,” she whispered. Turning onto her forehead, she pushed herself up and onto her knees. “We need,” she breathed out, still trying to catch her breath from being choked, “we need to get these, these cuffs off.”

Derek nodded.

“Here,” she turned around, “bend down, let me get the duct– duct tape off.”

He leaned down, letting his face meet her fingers and moving his head so that she could get the tape off his mouth. Once she had it off, he let out a sigh, leaning back on his calves and letting his head fall back. Y/n looked around, turning on her kneecaps to face Derek, “The key, he left the keys on the bed.”

Derek pushed himself onto his feet, walking over to the bed and looking at the comforter, taking a moment to find the silver key against the grey bedspread. Turning, he sat on the bed and leaned backwards, fingers searching the bed in the area he knew he saw the key. The tips of his pinkies brushed against the metal, so he leaned back further, finally grabbing the key and getting it securely in his hands.

Walking back over to y/n, he told her to stand and turn around so that her back was to him. He crouched down just a bit, using the key to trace the lines of the cuffs until he found the keyhole. It took maneuvering, but he finally managed to turn the key in the slot, unlocking the cuffs. Quickly, y/n pulled out of them, grabbing the key from Derek’s fingers and unlocking his.

As soon as the both of them were free, Derek wrapped his arms around y/n, and y/n wrapped hers around him. She let her forehead fall against his shoulder, breathing calming down and steadying out. Derek pressed a kiss to her head, letting his lips rest there as he closed his eyes and sighed into her hair.

“I love you, y/n,” he said quietly, tightening his hold on her, “so goddamn much.”

“I love you, more than you know, Derek Morgan,” she whispered into his shirt, before pulling away and staring up at him. Leaming down, Derek met her lips with a kiss, soft and meaningful.

Derek held her to his body a little longer afterward, kissing her temple before pulling away and looking around her face. There were little bruises, a gash on the side, and her neck was beginning to purple where Freeman had gripped her neck.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, holding her head in his hands, “I’m so sorry.”

“Derek, baby,” she said, holding the hands against her cheeks with her own, “this isn’t your fault. Things happen, I knew they would. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t already accept that.”

He stayed silent, kissing her forehead once before taking her hand and leading her into the bathroom. “Let me see your cuts, baby,” he said softly, grabbing the hem of her shirt and lifting it, looking at the cuts just below her bra with dark, worried brown eyes. “Can you take this off?”

Y/n nodded, grabbing the shirt from Derek’s hands and pulling it over her head, hissing slightly at the sting of stretching her arms. Derek went into the cabinet below her, pulling out the gauze kit from beneath the sink and grabbing a towel to clean her wounds to the best of his ability. He kept his touches light, dabbing the blood off her stomach and carefully swiping across the cuts.

“Derek, babe,” y/n said lightly, catching his attention, “I think it’s time for a move.”

Derek chuckled, putting down the towel and pulling out the gauze, “You know, baby girl, I think you’re right.”

She let out a breathy giggle, straightening up as Derek wrapped the gauze around her stomach and lower ribs. He cursed himself for letting this happen to her, but thanked whoever was above them that she was safe, and strong enough to get through the pain. Going into his closet, Derek pulled out a black henley shirt like the red one, giving it to her to slip over her head.

She smiled, putting the shirt on, and then leaning against his chest for a few moments. The silence in the room was soon broken by a shuffling coming from the floor of the bedroom, and y/n tensed in Derek’s arms. Pulling away from her, he warned her to stay there and walked out into the bedroom, seeing Freeman standing with the knife in his hands once more.

“You’re serious?” Derek said under his breath, walking forward and grabbing Freeman’s hand. The man was still shaking away the light-headedness, meaning he was in no state to fight. But, he pushed against Morgan’s hands anyway, attempting to drive the knife into Derek’s stomach. The bigger man’s grip countered it easily, though, leaving Freeman to give all his remaining energy to a vain purpose.

Focused on the hand with the knife, Morgan didn’t see the fist to his left side – the same side that had been pistol whipped – swing and meet his left eye. He stumbled over, just a little, but kept the knife at a safe distance, twisting Freeman’s arm so that he turned around against his chest. Ripping the knife from the man’s grip, he threw it onto the ground and twisted Freeman’s arm harder, hearing the man groan.

“Don’t like that, do ya? Does it hurt, you son of a bitch? Huh?” Derek grabbed Freeman’s other arm, wrapping it around to his back and holding his wrists together. Leaning down, with the man still in his grip, he grabbed his cuffs off the ground and wrapped them around his wrists, tightening them uncomfortably so.

There was a blast of noise downstairs, and Derek tensed, looking over his shoulder and out the bedroom door. 

“FBI!”

“Up here!” Morgan called, walking Freeman to the doorway and pushing him out and into the hallway. He looked down the stairs, seeing Hotch and Reid coming up toward them, “Get him the hell out of my house.”

Hotch grabbed him and walked him down the stairs, passing Reid along the way. Spencer looked up at Morgan, watching as the man clenched his jaw and frowned. JJ and Prentiss came up behind them, the three on the stairs looking up to Morgan, asking if he was okay in their own, silent ways.

“‘M fine. We need a medic, though. Son of a bitch got y/n,” he said, and Reid nodded, passing the women and leaving the house.

The two women watched as y/n walked out of the bedroom, standing beside Derek and grabbing his hand, intertwining their fingers. Derek looked over at her, pressing his lips to her temple, and then back at the door. She looked at JJ and Emily, smiling weakly, “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, you okay?” JJ asked, looking over the bandage on her knee and the bruises that littered her exposed skin.

“Been better,” she let go of Derek’s hand, looking up at him and nodding before walking down to JJ, wrapping her arms around the blonde woman. JJ hugged her back, giving her a reassuring squeeze before she moved onto Emily,, thanking them both for everything that they did. “Even the smallest things helped get him here. Thank you.”

JJ and Emily nodded, letting the couple know that they would have to go upstairs and process their bedroom. Y/n nodded, looking up to Derek and silently asking him to come down with her. Quietly, the two women stood to the side and let the two walk past them, giving each other looks of sadness before going up into their bedroom.

Derek and Y/n walked out of the house and to the paramedics car, y/n sitting against it and informing the medic of her wounds. Derek felt himself bristle at the thought of Freeman stitching and wrapping her knee, but he knew there was no point in being mad now. Robert Freeman was going away, longer than he was originally sentenced, and the relief that filled Morgan’s heart at that thought was beyond words.

Sitting beside her, letting his arm drape across her shoulders as she leaned against him, he whispered, “You know what, baby?”

“What’s that?” She asked, closing her eyes.

“I think we should move that marriage date up,” he smiled, earning a sweet chuckle from the woman below her.

“Agreed, babe. Agreed,” she kissed his shoulder, resting her forehead in the crook of his neck and blocking out the rest of the sound around her, focusing on the soft thrum of his heart against her palm, and letting lull her into a light rest.

|

taglist

@literallyprentissstwin @jennferjareau @rottendaisies @yes-this-is-doggo @gabriellewritermua 

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds gif #derek morgan gif #derek morgan imagine #ash's writings #my gif #*cmfic

[susanmichelin]

Preparing to return to writing my LTCOY series, I’ve been re-reading all the stories in chronological order, and boy did that require A LOT of jumping around (sorry, folks). Anyhoo, for those interested, this is how the timeline works (sorta):  

Dangerous Things (not officially included in series, but it IS the prequel)

Room Without a View (not officially included in series, but it’s a glimpse of V’s nine years of radio silence)

Wait For Me

Come Back to Me (chapters 1-26)

Homecomings & Deployment (first section only)

**Wallace flashback from A Wedding Story - Logan & Wallace make amends - happens before Wyatt is born

Baby Talk

Come Back to Me (epilogue)

A Closed Set

Snow & Mistletoe

**Logan flashback from A Wedding Story - L/V discuss vows - happens before Logan deploys

Homecomings & Deployment (second section)

**Keith flashback from A Wedding Story - happens during Logan’s deployment, simultaneous with the second section of Homecomings & Deployment

**Mac flashback from A Wedding Story - Mac & Dick discuss food - happens during Logan’s deployment, simultaneous with the second section of Homecomings & Deployment

**Dick FIRST flashback from A Wedding Story - Dick & V argue over food, happens during Logan’s deployment, simultaneous with the second section of Homecomings & Deployment 

**Veronica SECOND flashback from A Wedding Story - lunch with Wallace - happens during Logan’s deployment, simultaneous with the second section of Homecomings & Deployment

Homecomings & Deployment (third section)

**Dick SECOND flashback from A Wedding Story - Logan’s bachelor party, happens during the two weeks between Logan’s return from deployment and the actual wedding

**Veronica FIRST flashback from A Wedding Story - wedding dress shopping, happens during the two weeks between Logan’s return from deployment and the actual wedding 

A Wedding Story 

An Echolls Family Halloween

Christmas Stockings (first half)

Holiday Jailbreak

Espionage

Christmas Stockings (second half)

Same Old Song

#veronica mars #vm fanfic #veronica mars fanfic #cmfics

[fullofstoryshapes-archive]

If you are still taking prompts, Rossi/Garcia- team finding out? (Innocent look)

Penelope is not the sort of woman Dave Rossi ever saw himself taking out to dinner.

His tastes have always run more towards glamorous than... Colourful, but somehow, she had gotten under his skin, and now here he is, filling in his post-case paperwork with a blue glittery pen, topped with a tuft of polyester fluff and a silver shooting star on a spring.

Mercifully, the ink is plain black. Aaron would never let him live it down otherwise.

Of course, no one pays any mind to the pen. Penelope is always giving things to her people, pens and post-it blocks and stickers, coffee cups and scarves and mittens. If he’s indulging her a little by using something this ridiculous in plain view of the whole bullpen, with his blinds up, well, he’s in a good mood - the case went well, his new boots are exquisitely comfortable, and Joy called to ask if he wants to come for Thanksgiving.

It’s a good day. He’s in a good mood. He definitely isn’t using the starry pen because Penelope left it behind on his desk when she dropped by to call him to the conference room before the case, and he hasn’t seen her in person since they got back.

Because they aren’t really a they, they’re just dinner buddies, and she still goes to Morgan’s office first, then the bullpen, then up the stairs to him and Aaron.

And she still calls him sir, sometimes. He pretends not to like that.

When Penelope first began to understand the concept of a sugar daddy, she was about fourteen, and imagined him buying her a pony and seventeen pairs of glasses with cool frames.

She never thought a sugar daddy would buy her, you know, actual sugar, but here she is, with actual silver fox Dave Rossi buying her expensive deserts because, according to him, so few people understand cake.

Penelope understands all kinds of things - she never thought of cake as something that needed understanding, but if Dave is paying, and feeding her off his spoon, and calling her Kitten? She is so not complaining.

She even wore kitten heels, just because.

Dinner dates - are they dates? Or just, like, whatever you call it when she goes out for drinks and dancing with Derek? Or to the movies with Reid? Whatever, it doesn’t matter - have become a weekly occurrence for them, when he’s not out of DC on a case or a tour, and honestly, Penny’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t kind of love them. He’s great company, pays for everything, does his best to figure out jokes that go over his head, doesn’t talk too much about sports, and is also, like, super hot, and never corrects the waiters when they call her his lady friend, the way Derek or Spencer would.

It’s... Nice, to think that a guy like Dave would want to take a girl like her out to dinner. She enjoys it. There. She’s said it.

Dinner plans are often scrapped for the sake of a case, but this time, Dave needs...

He needs shitty, greasy diner food, a burger the size of his head and fries that are soggy and artery-clogging and everything Joy freaks out to see him eat, and a huge milkshake and a gallon of dirty black coffee.

He also needs some company, so he does a sneaky Google search to find somewhere that will meet both his and Penelope’s dietary requirements.

Turns out DC is full of shitty diners with a vegetarian menu. 

So Dave sits on one side of the both, burger overflowing its bun, basket of greasy fries at the ready, shake oozing condensation onto the sticky tabletop, ready to loosen his belt now that he’s seen the apple pie under the glass cover on the counter. Penelope sits opposite him with peonies in her hair, a plate of courgetti a la puttanesca in front of her - or at least, it’s something like courgetti a la puttanesca - and a huge soda that will give her way more of a sugar rush than she ever needs.

“Thank you,” he says, and then they eat, and once they start to eat, they start to talk, and the goosebumps down his spine finally disappear when she makes him choke on a pickle while doing her impression of Matt Cruz.

“So I was thinking,” she says, pushing open the door of Dave’s office while pushing her glasses up her nose, “that we could try that new Cambodian place in Georgetown.”

“Sounds good,” Dave says, glancing up from his paperwork to give her a smile that looks a lot more tired than it should. “Pick you up at eight?”

Penelope knows what SSA Burnout looks like, so she folds her arms, plants her feet, and takes a chance.

“Or,” she says, “we could get takeout, so that it won’t matter if you fall asleep before you finish eating.”

Penelope falls asleep on his couch for the first time at two in the morning in the middle of May. She came straight from one of her counselling groups, laden down with sushi, and had sat quietly by his side and watched The Godfather without objecting, like she usually does to gangster movies.

She’d sniffled a bit, and leaned her shoulder against his, and sniffled some more when he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close.

“Bad night, kitten?”

“Worst,” she agreed, and within ten minutes, she was asleep.

Dave thinks about how she’d looked, on his couch, under the old blanket his ma had sent with him when he went away to school, more often than he’d like.

By the following Thanksgiving, Penelope has left Yelp reviews on every good restaurant, shitty diner, and takeout place in the District of Columbia, all sampled on Dave’s dime, many from the comfort of his mansion (which, she still kind of can’t believe that she eats takeout and bakes cupcakes in the kitchen of an honest-to-God mansion at least twice a month).

And she’s pretty sure they’re dating, even if they’ve never so much as expressed non-platonic affection towards one another. 

Except maybe some of the cuddling, on takeout nights. And his recent habit of touching her face, sometimes, to cheer her up (and it works, which is. Really weird.)

“You should take me on a date,” she tells him. “Like, a real date. Dinner is cheating.”

He laughs, which would be embarrassing if he wasn’t holding up two tickets for a preview showing of a play she’d mentioned wanting to see, in passing, about two weeks ago.

Dave looks good in formal wear. This is an established fact, and he doesn’t think it’s vain to accept it.

Penelope in formal wear, however, is more than just plain old good.

“Kitten,” he says, a little overwhelmed, as he steps back to let her close her front door. “You look...”

“Like I’m wearing four layers of Spanx and wishing I’d suggested dinner instead?” she asks, and he’s glad that the change of scenery hasn’t changed anything else.

“I was going to say beautiful,” he corrects her, unable to keep from smiling. 

She blushes, and takes his arm when he offers it.

Derek is the one to catch them out, of course.

“C’mon, momma,” he wheedles, dangling her coffee just out of reach. “You’ve had plans every Saturday for the last three months. You’ve gotta tell me who he is.”

“Or she,” Tara points out, drifting by with a smile, like the goddess she is. “Just because you’re straighter than a yardstick, Morgan, doesn’t mean-”

“I get it, I get it,” Derek laughs, relenting just enough to let Penelope have her coffee. “But seriously, baby girl, there has to be someone.”

“No fighting, kids,” Dave says as he arrives, but he winks and because he’s got those big doe eyes, Derek sees, and because Derek is a profiler, he knows.

“Oh my God,” is all he manages before Penelope drags him away from the rest of the team, so he can freak out in private.

“Do you think she realises that the rest of us know, and are keeping quiet because of the fraternisation rules?” Aaron asks, watching Penelope drag a protesting Morgan out of the bullpen.

Dave can’t help but smile.

“If she doesn’t,” he says, “I’ll tell her.”

“You’d best explain why it’s so important that you aren’t caught flouting those rules,” JJ teases, grinning over her coffee. “I mean, of all people-”

“I was causing those rules before you even knew what the FBI was, Jareau,” Dave snipes back, smiling openly now. “Have a little respect.”

#cmfic #dave rossi #penelope garcia #rossi x garcia #garcia x rossi #my writing #wheels up in thirty #I LOVE THEM A LOT #queenofairandsnarkness

[jenny-from-the-bau]

In The Lap of Luxury, Chapter 15

Show: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jemily

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Instead of joining the BAU after Doyle, Emily takes another undercover case with Interpol. This time, she's going undercover as herself. She's married Gabor Farkas, the American ambassador to Hungary (and a sex trafficker), in order to get information and track down the rest of the ring. Unfortunately, she's been with him for two years and hasn't found anything. Instead, she's bored, frustrated, and lonely, tired of being a trophy wife to someone who is never around. So, she hires an escort that can keep her company and give her as much sex as she wants. That escort? JJ. The thing is… Emily doesn't know that JJ is undercover, too.

Total Word Count: 78,540

AO3 Link

#this is the last real chapter #only the epilogue left! #luxury #in the lap of luxury #criminal minds #cmfanfic #cm fanfic #cmfic #cm fic #jemily #jemily fanfic #jemily fic #jemily fanfiction #emily prentiss #jenniferjareau

[lilygarlands]

Serendipity.

"What are you still doing here?" "I have no one to go home to." "Neither do I." / JJ and Hotch share a moment together for the first time in years. Fluff.

K+ | 1895 words | Complete | FFnet | AO3

It was Friday night and Hotch was still buried under a pile of files in his office. He doubted he'd ever leave this place.

He'd never see the sunlight ever again. He'd never take a deep breath of fresh air. He'd grow old and grey in here.

Alright, maybe he was being a little bit over-dramatic, but it was almost 9pm and he still had about two hours of constant work ahead of him. Considering that he'd entered the office at 7am, he had every right to behave like a big grump that he was. At least that's what he told himself.

Groaning, he threw his pen onto the desk and decided to get himself some coffee; he hoped it would provide him with some more energy to get this paperwork done.

When he left his office and walked down the stairs, heading towards the kitchen, he noticed a familiar blonde elbows-deep in her own paperwork. Hotch frowned; it was late and she was still here. Shouldn't she be having fun with her son instead of spending her Friday night at the bureau?

"What are you still doing here?" He asked, scolding himself quietly for having sounded as if he was accusing her of a crime, when he was merely curious. And a little baffled, although he knew that she was an incredibly devoted employee. JJ must've been very focused on whatever she was reviewing, because she gasped softly when she heard him. When she realised it was Hotch, she smiled warmly, albeit looked rather melancholic, if anyone asked him.

"I have no one to go home to," she replied simply, not elaborating on the subject.

"Neither do I," Hotch nodded. That, he could understand. "I'll leave you to it, then," he added, gesturing at the pile of folders in front of her. JJ smiled again and got back to work.

On his way to the kitchen, he tried to remember when was the last time they had had the chance to talk. He and JJ used to be quite close, back when he was still married to Haley and JJ was pregnant with Henry. They would talk about their children as often as they could, and then everything kind of… stopped. He got divorced and when he finally thought he was moving on, Haley died and he had to deal with his own problems all over again.

And things between him and JJ hadn't been the same since then.

Shaking his head, Hotch grabbed another mug from the shelf and made a second cup of coffee for her. It was late, he was beyond done with the paperwork, and they both deserved a break.

He just hoped she wouldn't think this situation odd. True, he was her boss, but it didn't mean they couldn't spend a little while together.

"Do you, perhaps, fancy a coffee?" Hotch asked, approaching her desk for the second time that night. He tried to smile but he knew it must have looked more like a grimace; he did have problems with smiling.

Still.

If JJ was surprised, she hid it well.

"Oh, I'd love to! I can't even see straight anymore and I was too lazy to get up and make one myself," she replied, sounding grateful. "Would you like to sit here with me? Unless you'd rather drink your coffee alone, or have too much work to do in your office—" her voice trailed off.

"No, no, I could use a break," Hotch nodded, grabbing Morgan's chair and placing it next to her desk. It was a relief, truly, the fact that she was the one who asked him to stay, not the other way around; he really didn't know how to phrase it, and he did want to spend a few minutes with his former friend.

Desperately, he realised, which was new. To a certain extent.

And then, the awkward silence happened. Neither seemed to be able to come up with a good start for their conversation, so they both kept staring at their mugs, as if it was going to help them any. It was painful and embarrassing, and Hotch was about to get up, blurt out something about a sudden emergency, and flee to his office, when JJ laughed.

Actually laughed out loud, giggling like a schoolgirl, which he found quite adorable.

And that was really, really wrong, he thought.

"Why are you laughing?" Hotch asked, not being able to help himself but smile at her titters.

"It's kind of funny, don't you think? We both would like to talk to another adult about anything but our work and our children, but there appears to be no other subject for us to discuss."

"It's sad, you mean," he corrected her, taking a sip of his black coffee.

"It's both. So, how's Jack?"

He sighed. "Well, he's alright. Jessica took him with her for a short vacation, so I'm on my own this weekend. He started school this year and couldn't be more excited about learning." Hotch shook his head. "He likes spending time at Jessica's and that's such a relief. I can work and I don't have to worry about him. I do wish I could spend more time with him, though."

"I sympathise. I miss Henry like crazy, all the time."

"But you can't imagine quitting, either," Hotch remarked.

"Exactly."

"Where is he now?"

"He's spending the night at Will's. They had some daddy-son plans or something. I'm picking him up in the morning."

"Does Will take care of Henry when you're away?" He inquired. While he was aware of their break-up, Hotch didn't know any details. He'd never ask Garcia or Prentiss about JJ's personal life, and he didn't want to pry, either. Everything he knew was what he'd been able to gather from what their teammates had said in his presence. Which wasn't much.

"He does, yes. He works nine to five now, and Henry loves his kindergarten. He stays at my place whenever I'm in town and is with Will whenever I'm away. We're doing what we can, I guess."

"I'm glad to hear you're okay. Truly. I've never asked and—"

"You don't have to apologise," JJ rushed to add. "You had your own issues to deal with."

He did.

"Everything was easier with Haley around, you know?" Hotch admitted quietly. He didn't know why he was bringing it up, now, he didn't mean to. But it'd been so long since he talked to anyone but Jessica or Dave, and JJ had always seemed to understand him best. "We'd had our problems, even long before the divorce, but back then, when we were together… In hindsight, it was heaven. Jack had a mother, I had a wife, I had someone who waited for me to come home. I struggled to get everything done as early as possible to spend some time with someone that loved me. And now, when Jack's not around, I could very well sleep here. The house is so horrid when it's empty."

"I know I could never compare my situation to your and Haley's, but I sort of know what you mean. There's Henry and I love him more than life itself, but I miss having Will around." Hotch lifted his eyebrow at that. "No, not in that sense. I don't miss Will Will. I miss the relationship. As you said, I miss having someone that misses me. I miss being cuddled and having someone make a fuss over me, even though I hated it at the time.

"I guess, the difference is, Will and I never really, truly loved one another. And you've never stopped loving Haley."

"Haley was my first love," Hotch nodded. "She's given me Jack and I'll never stop loving her, but I did manage to move on. At least, I think I do. It's been two years since she died. Almost five since we got a divorce."

"So you're saying you're ready to go out and start dating again?" JJ asked.

"God, no," he chuckled. "I'm just saying I'll never forget Haley, but I'm not grieving anymore. Time has healed that wound. Happy memories stayed."

"I'm so happy to hear that," JJ breathed. "You so deserve to be happy."

"Let's not exaggerate. I'm content and I'm not depressed and miserable anymore. I guess that's enough for now."

JJ looked down at the cup in her hands and bit her lip. Not meeting his eyes, she said, "I've missed you."

Hotch blinked, raising his eyebrows slightly. "I have, too. I'm glad I've found you here tonight."

She wanted to tell him, then. She wanted to tell him everything – that when he was still a married man, she was so jealous of Haley. She was jealous because it was Haley that got to hug him, and touch him, and kiss him, and love him. When Haley left, he was devastated; she wanted to tell him everything when he attempted to move on after the divorce, but there was Will, and then there was Henry, and then Haley died, and they have never been the same after that, so the timing was always oh so very wrong.

Now it sort of seemed right, but it was the first time they talked – really talked – in more than a year, so it wasn't that right after all. He didn't want to start dating. He couldn't date her. But, JJ thought, they were both free and he seemed to genuinely enjoy having this damn coffee with her, which was an opportunity she was waiting for.

Hotch studied her expression for a longer while, not being able to make sense of what he was feeling.

He couldn't do that tonight.

He had to go.

"It's getting late," he said, getting up. JJ blinked rapidly when his voice snapped her out of her stupor. "I'm going to get back to my office and finish up the work, and then call it a night."

"Of course," she nodded. "I'll do the same. I think I could use some sleep." He turned his back to her, meaning to go up the stairs leading to his office, but something made him change his mind. He turned around again, just in time to catch her either frowning a little or pouting – he couldn't decided which one it was.

"Hey, JJ?"

"Yeah?" She looked at him, quickly composing herself.

"We should… We should do that again. The coffee, I mean. I enjoyed myself."

"Sure, I'd love to."

He left without another word. He didn't want to say too much.

When Hotch found himself in the exact same situation next Friday, all he could do was growl in frustration every so often. It was getting ridiculous, but the esteemed leader of the BAU – to paraphrase Garcia – he had to do what he had to do.

At first, he thought he was hearing things; he'd finally reached the level of exhaustion in which auditory hallucinations began. But no, someone was clearly knocking at his door and Hotch frowned deeply because he wasn't exactly expecting company.

"Come in!" He called.

"Hey, Hotch," JJ smiled sheepishly standing in the doorway. "You up for some coffee?"

That's when he couldn't help himself. He smiled genuinely for the first time in years – not counting the ones aimed at his son – saying, "Couldn't say no to spending some time in your company."

#cmfic #jotch #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #my fic