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monsterbananatv · 1 year

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Things from Lockwood and co because I can part 4:

Episode 7

“Oh, Jesus. Look at the smile on him”

George being left out again

Flo telling Lucy to be careful cause there is a lot worse then ghosts

The other agent trying to help them

The barrels…

Lockwood, back again with his death wish

The scene in the warehouse. Damn the emotions in there…

“Nothing good comes from letting people in. Everything ends and everyone leaves.”

Georgie

The horrid buzzing noise

Those poor children

Oh no Lockwood!

Lockwood grabbing Lucy’s hand as they run away

The agents helping them in exchange for his life

Lockwood’s panic attack

Lucy taking charge and pulling Lockwood around

“What did he die for?” “It’s because they’re bastards.” “It’s because I am”

The whole scene where Lucy’s trying to snap Lockwood out of it. He’s holding onto her for dear life but he’s also holding her so gently too

Flo being the only one who sees something is wrong with George

George drawing his rapier on Flo, and the birds snapping him out of it

The fight with the Golden Blade

What does he know???

The fact that Winkman already knew the guy was an agent, so it wasn’t Lockwood’s fault

Get him Lucy!

Its like a bad game of football they’re playing tossing the bone glass around

The fact that pink socks wearing Lockwood is wearing blue socks. We all know whose colour blue is…

Them jumping off the roof into the Thames

Flo inviting George to go bird watching

George calling out to her to say that he wants to do it

Lockwood and Lucy crawling out of the water and you think they might have a moment, but Lucy just shoves Lockwood away (on beat with the song I might add) and storms off

George being mesmerized by the mirror and not giving it to DEPRAC

Episode 8

Lucy being mad at Lockwood because his suicidal tendencies put all of them in danger again

The scene where she’s yelling at him and he just stands there

The scene of both of them after, Lucy looking at the necklace and Lockwood getting dressed. I like that because Lucy looks at the necklace but doesn’t put it on because she’s mad at Lockwood, but she doesn’t throw it away either, and instead of putting on comfy clothes, we see Lockwood putting on his regular get up, his armour, because he’s not sure how Lucy’s gonna react to him

Lockwood apologizing

“I just wanted to say, don’t give up on us. Please. Or what I really should say is don’t give up on me”

“To be honest the bottom of the Thames used to be a far more appealing place to be. And really no one would have cared, but now…”

Now he has something, someone to live for. People who care (I’m fine I’m fine totally fine)

The two of them finally realizing that something is wrong with George and finding all the spirals

George feeling left out by being left behind to do the dorky stuff

Joplin weirding me out

The skull calling Lockwood and Lucy a happy couple

Lucy and Lockwood both blaming themselves for what’s happening

Both doing anything they can to save George, even if it means going in with some measly salt bombs

“but if anything’s worth dying for…” (George. George is worth dying for)

Them realizing how wrapped up they were in each other that they didn’t stop to help George

Kipps is losing his talent

Joplin basically kidnapping Kipps

“You couldn’t resist. Nor could he. Who knows what he might see. Mummy and daddy maybe” SKULL WHAT DO YOU KNOW

“I need you to be the right amount of reckless”

“Let’s draw our swords and kick in the doors like we’re cool and really know what we’re doing”

Lockwood and Lucy working with Kipps crew

“Just reckless enough, okay”

“What’s the secret weapon?” “She is”

Lockwood complimenting Kipps crew

“And I’m Anthony bloody Lockwood”

“This isn’t a park, it’s a graveyard” “Then let’s bury them.”

The fight between them and the relic-men

George figuring out that Joplin isn’t what she seems and what she’s planning to do

The fact that Joplin was gonna use George to look in the mirror

The knife being the twin to the one in Carvers back

Personal space Joplin, jeez

“That bastard had a plan” “A suicidal one” “That tends to be a feature of all my best plans”

“To save my friends… and Kipps”

Oh George… (My heart… they care about you George, I swear. They need you)

“You’re not a third wheel or an oddball or whatever it is that you think you are. You’re the best of us”

“We are not losing you Georgie” He’s their family. Hers and Lockwoods (I’m fine. Totally fine)

Lucy sacrificing herself to save George

The golden blade. WHO IS HE. WHAT DOES HE KNOW.

Pfffft the blade pulling out a gun (this is just so funny to me)

(Twice I’ve shouted at the screen when he pulled out a gun “you don’t bring a gun to a knife fight!”)

“And whatever happens, this wasn’t your fault” She doesn’t George to blame himself like she blames herself for what happened to Norrie and the others

Lucy using the skull to look in the mirror instead of herself

The images before Lucy passed out. One of them was Lockwood… why?

The glass being a trap. A trap for what????

George breaking the mirror (Go my boy!)

The mirror vaporizing Joplin and the ghosts trapped in it finally being set free

“I’m sorry about everything Luce” “So am I”

Get him Lockwood

“Fought off a load of thugs, fell down a catafalque hole, battles a bunch of ghosts. You know usual sort of thing. Oh, and I got shot”

The way they both run to Lockwood to support him, because he’s not dying on their watch

“You’re not done. Don’t say that. This is t how you die. “How do you know? “Because we won’t let you”

How gently Lucy is holding Lockwood on the way back up

Kipps being a wonderful optimist and great bringer of encouraging speeches (/s)

“Just reckless enough”

Lockwood not holding Kipps to the bet because it was the right thing to do

Both of them supporting Lockwood as they walk away (Family <3)

“Ugh this is so touchy feely”

I was right to not trust Penelope

Lucy saying she thinks she’s starting to heal now

Just them as a family getting food and living life :)

“I was wrong about George. He didn’t hate my guts. He actually turned out to be a bit of a hero”

“Lockwood almost died a thousand times but I think he’s decided he’s better off alive” (My heart)

“Cause it’s incredibly rare. Both of you are”

Lockwood and Lucy’s smiles when they look at each other

Lockwood opening up

Lucy shoving a donut in George’s mouth to shut him up

Lockwood wanting to show them what’s in the room

“No more secrets”

THE MOST VILE CLIFFHANGER EVER

I needed a season 2 a week ago

Please Netflix

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falcqns · 3 years

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Hi, first of all i love your work 💕 and second, I wanted to request a Chris Evans angsty to fluff one shot? Where he is much older than the reader (she’s in her early 20s) and they have confessed their attraction for each other but are not sure how to proceed, nothing much happens during the confession. But the next day there’s an event or party where both attend separately, during it they stare at each other from across the room but suddenly Chris is crowded mostly by women much older than you and they flirt with him, and he sees you getting sad and insecure about your feelings and about his feelings too and obviously your age, so maybe you run off somewhere else and he decides to follow and then reassures you he likes you, then it’s all fluff? Maybe with a kiss at the end?🥺 thank uuuu!! I hope you’re having a nice day💓

Age Gap

pairing: chris evans x younger!reader

warnings: age gap, fluff, angst, insinuations to smut, hannah montana reference lmao

a/n: thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy! also i wrote this on my phone so i apologize for any mistakes lol

being 21 and having a crush on a 39 year old was tough.

finding out that that 39 year old felt the same was even tougher.

when you got the chance to audition with him for his new movie, Deep Silence, you jumped at it. just getting to be in a room with him blew your mind, but when your agent called you and told you you got a role, you were ecstatic.

you had originally auditioned for the role of Emma Garner, Chris’s characters daughter, but he decided you were perfect for the role of his characters wife, Francesca Garner instead.

you had no idea why. you were barely 21, and he was 19 years older than you. it would make so much more sense for you to play his daughter, but you accepted the role of his wife nonetheless.

at least now you won’t have to watch your crush kiss another girl, something that was all too familiar in high school.

when you two had your first love scene, you were terrified. how were you going to keep the fact that you were incredibly attracted to your co star a secret while acting out something that is so private?

you had a suspicion that he felt the same during filming, when he’d purposely ground his hard on into your centre and rasped into you ear “if you liked that”, but he ran away to his trailer before you could ask him about it.

you thought he was finally going to talk to you about it when he approached you a few days later, but he ended up just asking if you wanted to go to disneyland with him and Scott and his boyfriend, to which you accepted.

the day was fun, with the four of you taking lots of photos, going on lists of rides, eating lots of food (that ultimately made Scott throw up after one two many churros and and a ride on Seven Dwarves) and ended in you guys watching Happily Ever After. About halfway through, Chris pulled you into his arms, and pressed his lips to yours.

as soon as he kissed you, all the background noise faded away, and the two of you stood there like teenagers making out for the rest of the show.

when that happened, you thought for sure that he’d finally ask you out. you’d ask him out, but that seemed insanely intimidating, and you weren’t down for that at all. but, he didn’t make a move. other than kissing. he’d kiss you constantly, but it never progressed passed making out, and you were a little disappointed.

eventually, comic con came up, and you wouldn’t be attending with Chris, rather than the TV show you were a regular on. you had spotted him watching you in the crowd, thanks to your favourite actress who was also on the panel with you. you attended his as well, and even asked a question, as your movie hadn’t been announced yet, so people wouldn’t know you unless they watched your show.

then, the after party rolled around. you had messaged briefly, but hadn’t really spoken, something you were hoping to do tonight. you had reached your wits end, and just decided to man up and talk to him about where you two stood.

but, you couldn’t find him. you’d wandered around with your co stars and talked to a few directors and casting agents to get your name out there for future projects, but you couldn’t for the life of you locate Chris.

Until you got to the bar. you had just ordered your favourite drink, when you spotted him at the other end of the bar. but, he wasn’t alone. he was surrounded by five or six women who were definitely much older than you, and your heart sank.

it didn’t shatter, however, until you saw Chris flirting back. your eyes welled up with tears, and you tried to wipe them discreetly without Chris or anyone noticing, but of course that didn’t happen.

Chris was doing his best to ward off the ladies swarming him, so he could come and find you. he had been leading you on for too long, and he just needed to ask you out already, before another guy snatched you from his fingers.

suddenly, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked up, thinking it was Scott coming back with more food, but his heart dropped when he saw you. you were stood there, looking absolutely magnificent, but your eyes were full with tears, almost to the point of spilling over onto the cheeks he loved to kiss and hold in his hands so much.

he looked at the swarm of ladies that had formed around him, and swore, realizing what you were probably thinking.

he watched as you turned and stormed away, towards the door. he politely excused himself, and headed after you.

he followed you out the door he watched you disappear through, but his heart sank even lower when he realized you weren’t there. he was about to go back inside and ask your co stars for your room number, when he heard the tell tale signs of your sobs coming from a hidden alcove to his left.

he ran down the steps and over to the alcove, and his heart broke when he saw you. you were leaning against the wall, you head in your hands. loud sobs were escaping your mouth, and he knew for a fact you had an endless amount of tears running down your face, the saltiness of them probably already swelling your beautiful face up.

he wasted no time in coming over to you and wrapping you up tight in his arms. you tried to pull out of them, but he stood firm, and eventually you relaxed.

“i’m so sorry.” he whispered, and your sobs subsided. you shook your head and looked up at him.

“no. i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i was born in the wrong generation, because maybe then one of us would have the courage to ask the other out without fear of judgement. i’m sorry that i’m not as mature as those girls, or as talented. i’m sorry that i probably read into things like i always do and ruine-“ you began; but was cut off by Chris soft lips.

when he pulled away, he rested his forehead atop yours. “no. don’t. you’re perfect. so fuckin’ perfect it scares me sometimes. it absolutely terrifies the shit out of me how perfect you are because i don’t want to hurt you. you’re so young and innocent, and i love that about you. i don’t want to be the one to crush that innocence that i love so much by hurting you. but, i shouldn’t have let that hold me back. we’re both legal, so age is just a number. i should have told you that say i fuckin’ dry humped you on set.” he said, and you laughed at the last bit. “i love you so fuckin’ much, y/n, it honestly scares me. but being scared is good. it makes me human, and i’m not letting that hold me back from treating you the way you deserve to be treated. if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, i will spend the rest of our time together showing you just how much i love and appreciate you.” he said, and you looked up at him. “will you be my girlfriend?” he asked softly, and you nodded in happiness, your lips pressing to his.

Chris smiled into the slightly salty, but still loving kiss. he finally had you, and he wasn’t going to let you go. you were his whole world, and he was kicking himself for not realizing it sooner.

the two of you were currently walking hand in hand back to the venue, when you spoke up. “that was the sweetest speech. i’m not mad at you because of those girls. i realized shortly after that you wouldn’t do anything like that, but i thought maybe you’d realize that they were better than me, so that’s why i left.” you explained, and Chris tugged you in closer to his body.

“that makes me so happy, sweet girl. it was a mistake letting those girls do that and i should have stopped it sooner, but everybody makes mistakes.” he said.

you giggled before responding. “everybody has those days.” you said with the straightest face possible and Chris turned and stared at you for a second before realizing the reference.

“Hannah Montana? oh my god you’re so innocent,” he said, moaning the last few words into your ears, his hands gripping your waist to pull you against him.

you bit your lip and smiled. “i’m not completely innocent,” you said right back, and smiled in happiness when you felt him hardening against your stomach.

“mmm, really baby?” he moaned, and you nodded, before whispering in his ear.

“take me back to your hotel room and i’ll show you.”

#chris evans angst #chris evans #chris evans actor #chris evans imagine #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader fluff #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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specialagentsergio · 3 years

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rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor , @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #i just cannot stop myself from writing about mental health issues and treatment can i

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

Lost self confidence

Anon: Can I request a lil one-shot where y/n has been on the team for a while and she put on some weight/starts feeling insecure about it and Gibbs helps her feel better? :> If not it's okay (Preferably a lot of fluff, angst & smut up to you)

Anon: Can I ask for a plus sized reader and gibbs please? I never see them :( Maybe someone says something about her weight when theyre working a case or something and he does the gibbs-legendary-elevator-conversation??? OuO

I thought those two requests work well together. Enjoy, lovely anons! ❤️

Warnings: punch, mention of blood, hurtful comments about weight

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

~~~~~

Your body changed. A lot. More than you like to admit.

You have been avoiding mirrors for a while now, but as you stand in front of it right now, only dressed in underwear, you have to face it. Your body changed and you don’t like it. Actually, you hate it.

As you look at your stomach that used to be flat, your hips that are larger, the celulitis… you can’t help but to think it’s no wonder you’re alone. Who could you attract, looking like this? Not many people and definitely not the man you wish you had. He has probably noticed how your body is different. Maybe before, you stood a chance with the man but not anymore. It’s a lost cause.

You put some clothes on and left for work.

You and your team are working on a tricky case, you are not impatient to get into the office today. But as always, you put on your best smile and pretend that everything is okay. Even though it’s most definitely not.

You skipped breakfast this morning - on purpose - but when you sit at your desk, you can see a brown bag sitting there. You look inside; donuts. Not just regular donuts, but your two favorites.

“Gibbs’s treat.” Tony lets you know.

“What’s the occasion?” you casually answer, putting the bag aside. It’s definitely a bad idea to eat them.

“No occasion. You’re just his favorite,”

You can’t help but smile at this. Not that it’s true, but it feels nice anyway. Before, you would have been happy about your boss’s attention, but not today. “Aren’t you going to eat them?”

“I’m not hungry. Do you want them?”

Tony grabs the bag before you know it. At least, you won’t have to throw them away.

You put yourself into work quickly after. You need to take your mind off your insecurities and how bad you feel about yourself. Tony tries to make casual conversation, just being his old self but as you barely answer, he realizes that something’s wrong with you. He just doesn’t know what.

“You’re staring.” You say to him, without looking up from your computer screen.

“You’re in a bad mood.” He states.

“Am not.”

“Y/N, please.” He stands up from his desk and walks up to yours. “I’m a trained investigator. Talk to me.”

“Not a chance.” You keep working, avoiding eye contact. You’re scared that he may read into you, or worse; that you may cry if he starts to ask too many questions.

“Did Gibbs get the order wrong?” He jokes. He doesn’t mean wrong at all, but it sets you off.

“Just-- leave me alone, DiNozzo.”

You practically jump for your chair, grab your laptop and walk away from the bullpen, leaving your coworker in awe. He’s not sure what just happened, but he’s more convinced that something’s really not okay with you.

You spend the next two hours hiding in the conference room. You didn’t work much, you mostly cried and felt sorry for yourself. You really hate yourself and your body right now. It’s not about gaining some weight, it’s also about how lonely you feel. You love your team more than anything, they really are like your family but when you get home at night, it’s just you. You and your thoughts. You and your loneliness.

You just want someone to get home to. Someone to cuddle, someone to love and who loves you back, someone to fall asleep with. Just someone.

You had your face buried in your arms when you heard the door opening. You look up, ashamed. Gibbs is standing here.

He closes the door behind him and walks to you. “You okay, Y/N?” he softly asks.

“Y-yeah. Just a bit tired.”

“You know, if DiNozzo pissed you off, you can tell me.”

You chuckle. “Nah, it’s nothing he did. I guess I got up on the wrong foot this morning, that’s it.”

Gibbs did let it go - for now - but you knew he didn’t buy any of it.

That is later's concern though, there is some news on the case and you need to get going. The afternoon went better; your mind was focused on the case, you didn’t have time to think of the rest. It’s only when you get back home that it hits again. Before taking a shower, you put a sheet on the big mirror in your bedroom. You don’t want to face your reflection for now.

*****

The next morning, you are in a better mood. Not entirely, you still skipped breakfast and avoided all the mirrors but you made a decision: you won’t let the team know. You won’t let them see you’re going through a tough time. It would only make things worse.

Everything’s going okay until that stupid lawyer shows up. You never wanted to see him again after hooking up with him over a year ago. He seemed nice and good looking, he flirted with you the whole time he was in the office, so when he invited you for a drink, you said yes.

Your agreement had something to do with Gibbs’s flirting with that shrink but to this day, you keep telling yourself that it hadn’t.

After a few drinks, you let the lawyer kiss you and before you knew it, you took him home and you had a one night stand.

The sex wasn’t the problem, you actually had a lot of fun. The problem was the next day.

He was gone before you woke up - still not a problem. But when Gibbs yelled at you for giving him some private information, you understood your mistake. The man had used you. While you were sleeping, he looked into your files and found the information he needed to save his client’s butt.

After that, Gibbs gave you the silent treatment for weeks. And he stopped being mad at you after you came to see him in his basement and did your mea culpa. No one ever talked about it since.

But now, the same man is standing in the middle of the bullpen. You growled to yourself before going in.

You don’t greet him at all, just sit at your desk. “Y/N? That’s you?” he says, apparently shocked.

You look at him briefly and don’t answer.

“My god, what happened to you?” he adds.

“Excuse you?” you snap.

“God, if you had been looking like this last year, I wouldn’t have been able to use you.”

His sentence feels like a punch in your stomach, it hurts. But it shouldn’t and you know it. But it still does. You stay there a moment, not knowing if you want to cry and beat the crap out of him. Probably both at the same, but you don’t move or don’t say a thing, you’re like frozen. You barely don’t notice when Gibbs pushes the man towards the elevator.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

In the elevator

“Overprotective much, Gibbs?” the lawyer tries to appear confident and unafraid. He has his back against the wall, and in a second, he can hear Gibbs’s fist hitting a few inches away from his head. If the fist had touched his nose, he probably would have needed plastic surgery.

“Ever in your life, you disrespect a woman like that again, and especially--especially not Y/N.”

The lawyer made many people angry over the years, but never had he seen a man as angry as Gibbs looks right now.

“The only reason my hand is in this wall and not your face right now, is because she wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, but trust me when I say that all I want to do right now is to shoot you right in your precious parts.”

Gibbs is panting from anger. He can’t remember the last time he said that many words at once. But there’s no way that he or anyone else can disrespect you like this. Never, under his watch.

“So I’m gonna be very clear, you give that case to someone else. I don’t give a shit who, you just do it. And I don’t ever want to see your face again. Cause if I do, you’ll be so disfigured, you won’t be able to get another woman. Ever.”

“I could sue you for those threats, Special Agent Gibbs.”

“Are you planning to?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Well, in that case--”

This time, Gibbs’s fist hit the nose.

Meanwhile, in the bullpen

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

“Yeah-yeah,” you clearly lie as your eyes are watering.

Your coworker isn’t buying it. She takes a step forward and hugs you softly. “Please, don’t let him get to you.” she whispers in your ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Those words make you cry. You are not really buying them, but it does something to hear them. And you know deep inside that Ziva wouldn’t say something she doesn’t think.

As she keeps hugging, you can feel someone else’s arms wrapping around both of you. It’s Tony and shortly after, Tim is joining. “I think we should call Ducky. We’re going to have a crime scene.” Tony jokes to light the mood.

“I don’t want Gibbs to put himself in trouble for me.” you sadly say.

“Y/N, if Gibbs hadn’t taken him in the elevator, we would all have jumped on him.” Tim tells you. Which surprises you because Tim is the one to avoid a fight as much as he can.

“Also, the only reason I’m not asking you out is because of Rule 12.”

You are about to answer to Tony when you can hear the elevator’s doors opening. You let go of one another and watch Gibbs as he comes back to you and takes you by the hand. “Someone may have to call 911.” he tells the rest of the team.

Gibbs takes you to the other elevator, the one that leads to the lower floors, where Abby’s lab and Autopsy are. But of course, he switches the button as soon as the doors close. He doesn’t say a thing, he just hugs you tight. “Your hand is blue, Gibbs.” you cry in his neck.

“Yeah and his nose is red, who cares.” he kisses your hair. “I don’t want you to cry because of him, Y/N. And especially not because of what he said.”

“But Gibbs--”

“Not ‘but’, Y/N. Look at me.” he softly grabs your chin with his non-injured hand and forces you to look into his eyes. “You may not believe me right now, but you’re beautiful, Y/N. Sexy. Hot.” you uncontrollably shake your head, not buying a word he says. “I know I’m not the best with words, so I’ll let my actions speak.”

Gibbs ducks his head just a bit and closes the gap between his lips and yours. He softly kisses. You probably have never been kissed this softly before. Gibbs is so gentle and tender, his lips move slowly but expertedly. You’re literally melting under him.

The kiss may have lasted for minutes, hours, you don’t really know. You lost track of time, as if the world had stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry I waited for something like this to happen to do it. I’ve wanted this for a very long time, Y/N.”

“Me, too, Gibbs. But I’m not sure that’s the best time. I’ve lost all self confidence and--”

He kisses you again, undoubtedly to make you shut up. “I’ll help you find it again. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You rest your forehead against his, some tears are still rolling down your cheeks. “You’re not bad with words.”

“I’m still better with touch.”

#jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs #agent gibbs #ncis #ncis imagines #ncis fiction #ncis fanfic #tony dinozzo #ziva david #Tim McGee

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merakiui · 3 years

Note

hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU

In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.

cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!

You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.

It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.

Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.

Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.

Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.

“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”

“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”

“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”

“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”

“Oh. Uh...”

He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”

“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”

You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?

“Are you...doing something bad?”

You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.

“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”

He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“

He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”

“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”

It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.

“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”

“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”

You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.

“(Name), you know that’s—“

“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”

“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”

You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.

And that’s probably not even the half of it.

“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”

“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"

“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”

Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist.

The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.

Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.

It’s his fault, isn’t it?

On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.

In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises.

Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenario #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact ajax #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #childe #tartagila #ajax #i hope it was good!!#i wanted to capture childe's undesirable #personality traits in this #such as his tendency to lie smoothly #and avoid prying questions #tw: angst

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

Text

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

I’m backkkk <33 Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His jacket.

Oh my God.

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

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

You shouldn’t be mortified, but you are.

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

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

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

No wonder you slept so soundly.

+++

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

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

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

Regardless, they’re happy you’re here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For now, I’ll stick to the case.”

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sheriff nods. “She has a point.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he’s still lying there. Wonderful.

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

Moving on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a woman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk to me, babygirl.”

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

You roll your eyes. “Sounds about right.”

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Garcia plays it again.

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

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

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

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

“So she’s confident,” Emily ponders.

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “You wish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes what?”

Bastard. He did it again. “Yes sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s new?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s right. Dammit. “And?”

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

“I am!”

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

“Are you suggesting—”

“Hypothetically.”

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

“Are you being honest with me?”

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

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

So much for that.

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

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

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

The room falls silent.

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

Now, it’s hurt.

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

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

Does he not trust me at all?

Next chapter

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

Fake Dating Drabble No. 7

This one is with 1.2k of Agent Whiskey (x F!Reader) who is your fellow agent/Partner friend with benefits and is more than happy to prove a point to your shitty ex boyfriend agent

Fake Dating Masterlist

Warnings: implied smut, first (and probably last) time writing for Jack lol

He kissed you and you found yourself smiling against his lips as you pushed against his chest.

“Woah, one would think you’d be a little more thankful to the guy who just blew your mind. Three times,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes, climbing off his lap.

“Well Jack, as nice as this has been, I have to get home and pack before we leave tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. Want me to walk you out?” he offered. You found your jeans, putting them on as you scanned the room for your bra, finding it lying abandoned on the ground.

You put it on, looking at him. He was leaning with his back against the headboard of his ridiculously big king size bed, watching your every move. His hair was a mess from the way your fingers had run through it these last hours.

“No. You stay in bed old man. I’ll see myself out,” you turned from him, picking your shirt from the ground.

“Always so charming sweetheart,” he huffed.

“If you want someone to charm you, find yourself a girlfriend, Daniels. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You okay to work with Agent Diamond?” Ginger asked you and you sighed.

“I’m okay.”

“Really? Because the last time you two were together…”

“I’m not gonna kill him Ginger. He’s not worth it.”

“You better won’t. Whiskey has been more tolerable since you work together.”

“Well I don’t have time for his cowboy bullshit. Ever since I got that into his brain we’re actually been friendly.”

Which was right. Jack was one of your closest friends. Probably the closest friend, you had no other friends you were sleeping with on a regular basis. He knew about your family, about your past missions and about Agent Diamond, also known as Tom Green who you had been dating back when you were still living in italy. You thought he’d be the one, but life got in the way. It got ugly in the end of your relationship and the last time you had met him ended with your fist on his nose after he called you a slut in front of your whole team.

“Friends? With Jack? That must be interesting,” Ginger teased and you laughed.

“He’s actually a really fun guy. Makes some mean chicken wings. Don’t tell him I told you that.”

“My lips are sealed,” she winked as she opened the door. Jack was already sitting at the table in his usual outfit, missing the hat that was lying on the table in front of him. He was glaring daggers to the other side of the table and once you turned your head you could see why. There he was Tom Green, Agent Diamond in the flesh.

“All right, shall we?” Champagne said and your eyes left Tom to look at Jack who was already looking at you. You nodded and walked to the seat next to Jack, listening to the mission.

“He’s staring at you,” Jack whispered. You frowned at him, before you looked over to where Diamond was talking to Champagne. Thankfully you wouldn’t have to work with him much. And not without Jack around which he insisted on because after all you were partners.

“Probably scared I’ll break his nose again,” you shrugged.

“I’m not letting him near you again, Doll,” Jack said and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Whatcha gonna do, old man?” you teased. Jack leaned in closer.

“I could fuck you on this table and make him watch.”

“You are full of surprises, old man,” you shook your head, acting like his words didn’t affect you at all before you pushed yourself up from where you were sitting. He looked up at you, as you squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” you winked before you walked out of the room without glancing back.

“Can we talk?” you didn’t turn around when you heard Tom’s voice behind you. You were waiting for Jack to get on the road. Breathing in deep rolled your eyes.

“I don’t think we have anything left to talk about.”

“I think we do,” you felt him behind you. Turning around you looked up at him, the man you once thought you loved.

“I think you owe me an apology,” he said, his eyebrows raised expectedly.

You chuckled, seeing Jack walk out the building behind, his eyes fixed on yours.

“What for? Not breaking your jaw too after you called me a slut in front of the whole agency?”

“You humiliated me in front of the whole team,” he hissed. You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“And you don’t think you calling me a slut, repeatedly, in front of the whole team was humiliating to me?”

“Oh please… We all know you’ve been sleeping around with the lower level agents…”

“Oh do we?” you asked, feeling the rage bubbling inside of you.

“Doll, are you ready to leave?” Jack called after you and you closed your eyes, breathing in deep.

“Well Tom, this was nice, but I gotta go. Got some lower level agent to fuck,” you smiled sweetly before you turned away from him and looked at Jack who was waiting for you.

“Kiss me,” you hissed as you walked towards him. He grinned widely at you as he tipped his hat up, his arms coming around you, both of his hands on your ass as he crashed his lips down on yours with a low moan.

“You okay?” he whispered as he parted from your lips.

“Is he still looking?”

“He’s looking like he’s about to explode.”

“Good. We gotta make sure your room is next to his when we arrive at the hotel.”

“Oh is that so?” Jack grinned, squeezing your ass.

“Yep. Gotta make sure he hears the low level agent I’m fucking moan out my name when I make him cum. All night.”

“Lower Level? That hurts. Wow. Though I’m glad to be of service, Ma’am,” Jack tilted his hat again, before he stepped back, holding out his hand for you which you took with an eye roll.

“That doesn’t mean I’m suddenly in love with you, Cowboy. Just so you know.”

Jack laughed.

“Keep telling yourself that doll,” he winked, slapping your ass as he opened the car door for you. You looked after him as he got around the car, putting the suitcases in the back. You were supposed to have Ginger and Tom in your car but he just got into the driver's seat and drove off with a grin on his lips, while humming along to some country song on the radio.

He was your best friend. The one who always had your back.

You weren’t in love with Jack. Were you?

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#fake dating drabbles #agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #my writing #drabbles #steph writes drabbles #agent whiskey x f!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

A Natural: Part 7/Finale

Description: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader: You’re a single mom, and your son is your entire world. When you take him to get his first hybrid, his choice is pretty bewildering, until you realize that he was picking out a dad.

Posted: 04/09/2021

Tags: Taehyung, Hybrid Taehyung, Human Reader

Wordcount: 3,673

A/N: Yay! Another series finished! Thanks for loving this story!

Theo was talking animatedly with Taehyung as he was wheeled toward the house, but he got quieter as you approached the front door to unlock it, looking down at the ramp beneath the wheels of the wheelchair.

Tae pushed him through the front door, his conversation also lulling.

Theo looked around, a bit of a smile on his face. “I get to stay now, right?”

You nodded, kissing his forehead. “You get to stay now and forever. We do have to go back for checkups and therapy but you’re home and you’re safe and I’m making roast beef and mashed potatoes.”

“Yummy! Can we go play, Dad?” Theo asked, brightening instantly and sort of bouncing in his wheelchair.

“Sure!” Tae pushed the wheelchair through at a speed that made you nervous. But you knew he would never purposely endanger Theo: Theo was his pup. That was evident in all of his actions, in his conversation, and in the effort he had made to get certified so that he could be there when Theo was released.

You went into the kitchen to baste your roast and then start peeling the mashed potatoes, trying to calm your heart because your baby was finally home again. Finally, finally home again, after weeks and months of too little patience and not enough answers, and a whole sea of tears. Therapy, rehab, tests, more tests, and after all of that, you had your baby home—less mobile than before, but still your baby.

You watched Theo playing on the bed with Tae, fighting the tears and hopelessly losing because he was back where he belonged.

Peace, comfort, and everything right in the world. Nothing intruding, just your little family.

So, of course, your phone rang.

You groaned and answered it. “Yoongi? Really? We just got Theo home.”

“It happened. We’re out of a job,” Yoongi answered, sighing. “They closed the company down.”

“Ugh. You could have texted me that,” You huffed, heading back to the kitchen. The two of you had basically considered everything going on and known that the company was going to collapse. You’d almost been told as much when the two of you went in to talk to an IRS agent who wanted you to walk her through your jobs and some files and go over the discrepancies that had led to the audits.

“Yeah, well, I also had to tell you that the paperwork came in the mail today, and we close on the building next week.”

“Okay, that was worth calling me,” You said, hopping onto the counter. “What’s next on the list?”

“Fixing the building? Getting the classes organized. You finish the certification class tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of pathetic,” You said, shrugging. “Too easy. Let’s make our classes thorough, yeah?”

“Agreed. Jin is already writing a teaching plan. He’s got it halfway done—at least, I hope that’s the halfway point. Jungkook’s been helping, which makes hyung happy. And he’s finished the dog-training next week. The teacher was really excited to hear about what we’re doing, by the way, and gave Jin a bunch of things. She asked Jin to sit in on her next couple of classes as her helper.”

“That’s really great. Jimin?”

“He’s hitting garage sales to celebrate getting the building, hoping to find some cheap stuff to get us started. How’s Theo?”

“He’s fine. He’s bright and happy and playing with Taehyung right now. He’s taking things well and I’m making his favorite, and he’s looking forward to everyone coming over tomorrow.” You checked your timer, then sighed. “We’re totally doing pizza, though. I’m already exhausted.”

“Okay. I can pick it up on my way over.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to go. Need to get the rest of dinner started.”

“Tell Theo we’re looking forward to playing games with him tomorrow.”

“You got it. Eat well.”

“You too.”

You slipped off of the counter, and started putzing around the kitchen making some side dishes to go with dinner.

Tae came out. “How long until dinner?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Better keep it warm, he fell asleep.”

You nodded, letting him stop you and hold you still. “He okay?”

“Very okay. He’s so happy he’s home that he just sort of passed out.” He kissed your cheek, then sighed. “I’m so happy too. I finally get to see him and hold him. I just want to hold him and cry.”

“I’ve almost been in tears for the entire day,” You told him. “I figure once he’s in bed for the night, I’ll cry my little heart out.”

“Can I cry with you?”

“Of course you can. I would never ask you not to cry when you wanted to.” You turned to meet his gaze, gently touching one of his furry ears. “It’s been hard for both of us. It’s still going to be hard. I’m terrified of the next few days.”

“Me too. Even if they told us what to expect and how to care for him, there’re still a lot of mistakes we’re going to make and that scares the fur off me.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t be able to make it through all this if I hadn’t had you, you know.”

Taehyung nodded. “I know.”

“Mommy! Look! I made it in my chair and through the house!” Theo called, managing the last push through to the kitchen and raising his arms in victory.

“My baby! Look at you!” You hurried over bending to kiss his face all over. “Excellent job!”

“It’s exhau…it’s tiring,” Theo finished, nodding firmly to cover for his lost word.

“Exhausting, fatiguing, tiresome, or draining,” You supplied, sharing a smile with him and moving around to the back of the chair, bringing him over to the table. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water. It smells really good, mommy.” Theo smiled up at you.

You dropped a couple kisses on his face before going to get him his drink.

Tae was bringing over the side dishes. “You want to stay in your wheelchair, or you want to sit on the chair?”

“Chair, it’s a little too high,” Theo said, touching the table edge, which was practically to his chin.

Tae nodded and pulled the wheelchair back. “Arms around my neck.”

Theo did as he was told and the two of them moved him to the dining chair.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, noticing the way Theo was sort of fidgeting in the chair as you brought the roast over.

Theo looked up at you. “It’s still weird.”

“Your legs?” You guessed, resting your hand on his cheek.

He nodded, leaning into your touch. “I don’t like it.”

“I know. Neither do we. But…there are some things in life that are out of our control.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And we’re going to be with you every moment of the way.”

Theo nodded, sighing. “I missed you, mommy.”

“I was with you,” You teased gently, but you understood exactly what he meant. It had always been the two of you, three once Tae had joined, and while he was in the hospital everything felt wrong. You didn’t get to hold him like you wanted, and it seemed like every time you had him in your arms and both of you were comfortable a nurse would come in to do something or other.

“But we weren’t home,” He said, watching Tae put the bowl of mashed potatoes down. “I really, really missed you daddy.”

Tae came over and nuzzled Theo. “I missed you more.”

“I missed you most,” Theo responded easily.

You hummed softly. “Come on. Time to eat, boys, before it gets cold.”

Theo hummed happily as you filled his plate, immediately trying to cut his own food first before ultimately letting Tae do it. “Too tired. Too hard.”

“That’s fine, kiddo,” Tae answered easily. “We all need help sometimes. And cutting things can be hard. At least you try.”

Theo nodded. “Mommy said that as long as I try, I can make it through the world.”

“Your mom is really smart,” Tae said, smiling at you. “She’s got a good history of trying her best at everything, including taking care of you and me. You chose her well.”

Theo laughed. “I didn’t choose her!”

“What?! Of course you did!” Tae objected, grinning himself. “Every kid chooses their parents!”

Theo and Tae launched into a playful debate and storytime about how every kid chooses their parent while you ate, quietly listening and just enjoying the fact that you were home.

Theo was home.

“Uncle Hobi said that he’d help me catch up to the rest of the class over the summer. I don’t want to do school work in the summer, but I don’t want to be behind. Kevin and Jun were close to being my friends, and they sent more drawings and letters than the other kids.”

“They wanted to visit, too, but they didn’t want to tire you out,” You told him. “We told them that they could come play with you once you were home.”

He grinned. “When? Tomorrow? Tuesday?”

“I’ll talk to their moms and arrange it all, and let you know. But, let’s have a couple days just our family.”

Theo nodded, but then looked back up. “Wait, does that include my uncles?”

“Of course. We’re working on projects together so they’re over quite a bit lately. And they’re coming over tomorrow, remember?” Tae nuzzled Theo, then added more potatoes to his plate. “Eat up.”

“More food?”

Tae nodded. “You need to eat well to recover.”

“Oh. Okay.” Theo started eating the extra food on his plate.

“Only eat until you’re full, though,” You instructed.

“Yes, mommy,” Theo answered, smiling at you.

Your baby was home.

——

“Woohoo!” Theo cheered as he rolled down the ramp at a speed carefully controlled by Jungkook.

You finished edging the window and set your brush aside.

The building for the training center was almost finished, and all of the licensing and training that you all needed, and the first classes were slated to start in three days.

“Over here is our obstacle course, which we think will help those training with us, as well as those in physical therapy, learn how to maneuver around things that they’ll come across on a regular day. As you can see, our happy tester is enjoying going down the ramp after he was working on trying to get up it on his own for a while.” Jimin high-fived Theo as he led the group past. “We’re also finishing painting, so try not to touch the walls unless you like paint on you.”

The people chuckled, fascinated by Jimin’s enthusiastic tour. He was showing some hybrid-shelter owners through the facility to sell them the idea of sending hybrids there for training to increase adoption rates. He’d given multiple tours so far, because he was by-far the best at it, aside from Taehyung, but Taehyung had the disadvantage of being a hybrid.

Hoseok was trailing the group, but split off to join you. “They’re practically eating out of his hand.”

“Good. We have bills coming eventually.”

“Yeah.” He sat down next to you. “But this place is amazing. You guys are going to do really well.”

“I hope so.”

Hoseok handed you the folder. “So, I looked things over.”

“Good news, then?” You asked sarcastically.

“Not bad news. He’s learning more slowly, but he’s still learning. As he grows stronger, I think he’ll be okay. He just gets tired so easily that I think it’s causing his trouble. So, once he gets stronger and isn’t as tired, I think he’ll catch up just fine. But for now, he’s going to stay just a little behind. I’m moving up with the class as part of the new program, so I can keep following his progress and helping him.” He patted your shoulder. “I already talked to the higher-ups about it. They agreed that it was important for him to be with his friends. Especially since we’re working on catching him up. And he’s still a bright kid, that catches on quickly. Tired equals distracted, distracted equals slower learning.”

“Thanks for the crayons, teach,” You answered dryly.

He grinned at you. “Hey, there’s a reason I teach kids.”

“Because you are one?”

He laughed and the two of you watched as Jungkook helped Theo work his way up the easiest ramp so he could go down the hardest again.

“He really likes this place. After we left yesterday, it was all he could talk about,” You told him, smiling as Theo cheered on his way down the ramp again.

“His friends are coming to play here, aren’t they?”

You nodded. “They’ll be here soon. Taehyung is waiting to show them in. Their mom’s were excited to hear that this was practically a playground, rainy days are hard.”

“You could market day-passes and make that one room into a playroom for kids, that’d help bring in more income. I know several sets of parents that would bring their younger kids in, especially on rainy days. And if hybrid rights ever get reestablished, you could make it hybrid friendly which would really help.”

Yoongi paused in the doorway and looked at you.

You looked back, then at Hoseok. “So, we told you you’re a shareholder, right?”

Hoseok nodded.

Yoongi pulled out a notebook and wrote the idea down. “I’ll start pricing things and we can discuss it.”

“Theo!”

You looked over as Kevin and Jun ran over.

“Hi!” Theo greeted them enthusiastically and they started talking.

Taehyung was leading in their mothers.

“I should go talk with them,” You excused yourself and headed over.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Thanks for letting the kids play here, it looks great,” Jun’s mother (Debby?) said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic.

“And safe. Kevin has a habit of hitting his head on everything so I’m glad to see everything is padded. Lumps are easy, cuts are hard,” Kevin’s mother (Jamie?) added. “Plus the rain.”

You nodded. “They’re little balls of energy, but I’m really grateful for you two bringing them. Theo was so excited to hear he would get to see them.”

“Jun’s been asking about Theo almost every week. These past months must have been so hard. I don’t think I could have handled it.”

“I have a really good support system,” You answered easily, turning with them to watch the three boys playing, Jungkook keeping an eye on them to help if Theo got stuck.

The other two boys were being really thoughtful and kind and they saw the wheelchair and Theo being stuck in it as a challenge and a game, which would definitely help. They listened when Jungkook did have to help them and they already seemed to be having fun.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to hang around and keep track of them?” Kevin’s mom asked after giving you her husband’s number as well as Kevin’s backpack.

“We’d be happy to help,” Debby added.

You shook your head. “Go home, relax. Or clean, or whatever you need to get done. I’ve got several helpers on hand if I need them, including their favorite teachers. That is, as long as you’re okay with Jin and Taehyung helping out.”

“Of course, this whole law is ridiculous. It won’t last.” Debby waved a hand as if dismissing the law.

“Can’t last, more like. My favorite babysitter is a golden retriever hybrid, she’s been living in our basement ever since this happened. She was really excited to hear about this place, though, so I told her I would bring her once it was open.”

You smiled. “She’d be very welcome, and just let me know if she wants to take any of the classes.”

They nodded and left after telling their boys to behave and listen to you and the other adults.

You went into different rooms, double-checking the painting and making sure everything looked nice and correct.

Namjoon was sorting through the area rugs, placing them in order by thickness and type. This would make it easier to not only determine what carpets might be easier for people in wheelchairs, but help them and those helping them grow accustomed to the type of challenges that different carpets could present.

Yoongi was going through and making notes of different things that still needed to be finished, or other things that came to mind, as well as double checking some of the safety parameters.

Jimin was still talking with the people he was giving the tour to.

Hoseok was sorting through the spare office supplies that all of you had managed to scrounge up (a lot of yours came from your college years, like the dozen or so sticky note pads, the handful of highlighters, a plethora of paperclips and binder clips, push pins, pencils, pens, erasers, loose-leaf lined paper, binders, folders, and index cards—so many index cards), while keeping the kids in his sight should Tae or Jungkook get distracted.

And Seokjin was setting up the kitchen, which was going to be teaching cooking classes as part of companion training, but also used to show the difficulties a person in a wheelchair would face on one side of the kitchen while the other side was made for people in wheelchairs. He really liked the kitchen, and it was his pet project

Which meant you could go and look at the room that wasn’t being used yet.

Hoseok was right, it would make a really good room for kids playing. Something that would be easy to sanitize, but still allow for the kids to play. A slide would easily fit there, some rock wall-type of holds on the wall there….

You backed out of the room and stuck a sticky-note to the door, labeling it the Jungle room.

Yoongi joined you, giving you a questioning look.

“If we’re going to make a room for all kids to play in, we should have a theme for it. Kids like themes. Jungle is a good theme.”

He nodded. “That cafe I told you about, they said if we get busy enough, they’d love to partner with us and open in the cafeteria.”

“That’d be perfect. For now we’re just going to have to offer snacks by the front desk, though.”

“Jimin is on the phone with the local paper.”

You slowly turned toward him again. “What?”

He nodded. “They called, wanting to talk to someone about this place and Jimin saw me starting to stumble so I pretended I was just an assistant and told them I was handing the phone over to one of the founding members. He’s good at the talking thing. Between him, Jimin, and Tae, we should never need to talk on the phone.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” You answered, hurrying to find Jimin because you wanted to know how the interview went.

“Yes, thank you so much for your inquiries. You have a nice day as well.” Jimin hung up, and grinned at you. “Well, we’re definitely getting some attention!”

“What did they ask? What did you say?”

“Well, they asked why we started this, when we were opening, what we were offering—I added on hybrid companion training for the elderly, but I didn’t think you two would mind—and I gave them the answers, I didn’t divulge first names or anything. I used strictly last names, because even that lends us more anonymity and autonomy. I told them we wanted to help our community and those who were currently suffering—I even added that our training areas worked great for kids playing when it was raining outside because they could hear the boys laughing. They asked if we had considered opening it as a playground for the kids as well when it wasn’t being used for training and I answered yes—but I also added that we’d need another permit or two that we haven’t filed for yet. We have considered that, right?”

“We have, actually, we were talking about turning one of the rooms into a kids playroom specifically. Then if we have hybrids who have kids, the kids can play while their parents are in classes,” Yoongi said, definitely adding that to his notebook, as well as the elderly thing. “This is going to be a life-long project, isn’t it?”

“If we’re lucky,” Jimin answered cheerfully.

You left Yoongi grumbling to go check on the boys, noticing that Theo wasn’t playing as much, but he was still laughing with them and apparently they were rescuing him from pirates or something.

Taehyung wrapped an arm around your waist. “You know…I’m really proud of you.”

You relaxed into his hold, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m really happy Theo chose you as his father.”

“I’m really happy you let him,” He whispered, then tilted your chin up to gaze into your eyes for a moment.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, softly and gently, a silent promise for forever.

“I knew it!” Theo yelled happily, definitely staring at you two when you looked over. “YES!”

“Whoops,” You whispered, trying not to laugh. It seemed an age ago that you told Theo not to expect the two of you fall in love. Told him he could call Taehyung his father if he really wanted to.

An age since Taehyung first kissed you.

A lifetime since you told Theo he could adopt a hybrid.

Taehyung laughed and kissed you again. “Thank you for my family.”

“Does that mean you don’t want more pups?” You asked cheekily.

He shrugged. “I’m satisfied with whatever I get in life. If that’s more kids, then I’m not going to complain. But Theo’s enough for me.”

You kissed his cheek and rested in his arms, knowing everything in your future was going to be worth the trials. But he was a natural at helping you through it.

You couldn’t ask for anything better than this.

–

Previous.

Taehyung Masterpost. Masterlist.

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22 @missmoxxiesworld @bryvada @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @forvever-ddaeng @ncttzuuy @briramirezalipio @givebuckysomelove @bunnyboyenthusiast @rosita7703 @veryuniquenamegoeshere @lottosehunnie @forevermoremagcon @kpopgirlbtssvt @0mysticx0 @littlewolfieposts @kerikaaria @hemmofluke @beauthiefully

#single mom!reader #single mom au #taehyung #taehyung x reader #hybrid!taehyung #adoptedfather!taehyung #hybrid au #bts fic #bts x reader #kim taehyung #V #parent au #yoongi #seokjin #namjoon #jimin #jungkook #hoseok

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imaginationoverspill · 4 years

Text

Long time no see

Summary : Two years into an undercover mission, you find yourself meeting the very man you had to leave behind.

Obi-Wan Kenodi x Genderneutral!reader

The low boom of the bass permeated through the sweaty bar as Master Kenobi and his padawan moved through the crowd.

“Master are you sure this the right place ?”, Anakin mumbled to his master, uncomfortable in the civilian clothes that many of the regulars wore. His status as a padawan hidden as his braid was tucked under the shoulder-length wig.

“Yes Anakin, I’m sure and please stop fidgeting, you’re drawing attention”, he replied as he glanced around the crowd inconspicuously.

“Yes Master”.

Eventually, the pair found an empty booth in a more secluded part of the club, but also a lot closer to one of the many circular platforms dotted around that were mainly used by scantily-clad dancers of varying species and gender. One of the platforms was directly in front of Obi-Wan’s line of sight and was a lot larger than the other platforms, probably used as the main stage. At the moment it was empty as the generic low-bass music continued to play.

“So this informant, any idea how we’re supposed to find them ?”

“Patience, young one”, replied Obi-Wan.

The music suddenly changed and the lights dimmed so that the main stage was lit up. Both men looked at the stage as two twi’leks, one male and one female, start dancing along to the beat.

Here we go again. Just like every other night for the past two years, you sat in the dressing room getting ready for your performance. At least this time, you know two Jedi will be waiting for you for information. They should be easy enough to spot, even if they think they’re amazing at being disguised. Most of the time ordinary people don’t notice them when they’re not in their robes, you, however, could spot them a mile away so it didn’t really matter that you had no idea who the Jedi you were supposed to meet was. Hopefully, after you’ve dropped the info, your undercover mission will be over and you can get back to what you’re fantastic at : bounty hunting.

“Come on honey! We’re up!”, shouted Iyal’, a young yellow twi’lek that was your only friend among the dancers.

You took your robe off, revealing the provocative outfit and sauntered on stage as your back-up dancers, Iyal’ and another twi’lek, began dancing to the beat of the song. They separated to reveal you to the audience and you began singing.

As you sing and dance sensually to the song, you check out the crowd entranced by your performance in search of the two Jedi. Your gaze lands on the two men sat in a booth near one of the smaller dance platforms and you falter slightly as you recognise him.

“Kriff”

Anakin glances confusingly at his master’s swearing. The usually calm and composed Jedi master was visible flustered at the sight of the beautiful singer on the main stage.

“Master, are you alright ?”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and readjusted himself so as not to seem affected by the performance. When he was told to meet up with an undercover agent, you were the last person that he had expected to see.

You gave it your all on the final note, the club whistles and applauses your performance. The twi’leks move off-stage as the generic low-bass music returns. You walk off-stage in the direction of the booth.

Nervous butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach despite your confident strut towards the two Jedi. Holy Sith! Why does he have to be so hot? He was already attractive when he was a padawan but the long hair and beard just make him ten times hotter.

As you reach them, you coyly sit next to the older one.

“Of all the places I thought I would see you again Kenobi, this is certainly not one of them”

“Likewise my dear”, he responded coldly.

Anakin furrowed his eyebrows at his master’s cold greeting before introducing himself.

“Pleasure to meet you”, you reply smirking and coyly extending your hand for him to shake. Despite the coldness from Obi-Wan, you still had an act to maintain.

“Anakin, why don’t you go get us both drinks whilst I discuss matters with our informant”, Obi-Wan ordered.

“But-”.

“Now, Anakin.”

He nodded his head towards you both before getting up, slightly concerned at his master’s strange behaviour.

“ Master”, you say as if testing the way it sounded. “It suits you.”

“Yes well ... thank you”, he coughs. You smile slightly, glad you could break his impassiveness, even if only for a moment.“From what I understand, you have some information on a potential terrorist attack”

“It’s always straight to business with you, even when we were younglings”

“I hardly see why that’s a bad thing”

You smirk at him before gently removing a disc hidden in your bra.

“This disc has everything I could gather without being caught”

Obi-Wan briefly glanced down but quickly looked away before you noticed where he was looking.

“Your effort is greatly appreciated by the council”, he curtly replied as he took the disc from you.

You felt disappointed at the lack of reaction. You always knew that if you did ever see him again, the encounter would be at the least awkward, but you still hoped that somewhere deep down, he was happy to see you.

The sound of shouting above the music catches your attention. Anakin was stood with his fists clenched and struggling to stay calm as a Rodian screeched at him. The second you look at the scene, you notice a determined group walk in your direction. You recognise them immediately as henchmen from the separatist group that run the club as cover.

“Fuck, we’ve got to get out of here. Grab Anakin and meet me at the back”. If they figure out that you’re with a Jedi, your cover will be blown. You get up to meet the group of intimidating aliens, still maintaining your flirty persona.

"Hi fellas, what can a gal get ya’ ?" You flirtatiously greet.

" How about two Jedi scum.", growled the big Trandoshan. You try to hide your nervous giggle.

" Oh sugar, if that's what you want, you ain't gonna find any here"

"Really", he stepped closer to you, "then why did we catch you chatting them up." Crap.

"Oh, don't be silly. Those two fellas were just here for a good time. Here, let me grab you fellas some drinks, on the house"

You quickly turn away to escape but the Trandoshan roughly grips onto your arm. You slam your heel into his foot, causing him to yell in pain and let your arm go. Time to get out of here. You start running and pushing through the crowd of semi-drunk club-goers.

"GET AFTER THEM !"

The group draw their blasters and run after you.

You manage to run out into a dark and dirty alleyway with a dead-end.“Not so fast”, two Devaronians block both sides of the alleyway, cutting off your escape route. Oh, crap.

Suddenly the sounds of lightsabers and blaster fire catch your attention. Upon the rooftop, you spot the two Jedi deflecting blasts close to the edge. They make quick work of the thugs attacking before Obi-wan notices the trouble you’re in the alleyway below as the two Devaronians trapping you rush at you.

Without much thought -and to Anakin’s confusion- he calls your name and throws his deactivated lightsaber to you. You catch the lightsaber and ignite, smirking at the two thugs who suddenly stopped at the sight of the blue blade. They start firing their blasters but you gracefully deflect the bolts back to them before swiftly cutting one of the Devaronian’s arm off and roundhouse kick him in the face, incapacitating him. You promptly twist to face the other thug who had stepped back slightly in fear. Swinging the sabre skilfully, you use the force to pull the blaster out of his hand before slamming the hilt into his face, effectively knocking him out.

Both Jedi smoothly leap down from the roof to join you.

“You’re a Jedi ?!”, exclaimed Anakin incredulously.

“Was. I’m not any more.”, you admitted.

“Yes well, let’s get out of here”, said Obi-Wan, quickly cutting off whatever Anakin was about to say to your reply.

The three of you headed out of the alleyway and headed to the parked speeder hidden in the shadows. Upon approaching the speeder, you noticed that only seated two people and stood awkwardly looking at the men, wondering how we were going to get around the problem. Obi-Wan noticed the same issue as you. As Anakin sat in the driver’s seat, he took his place in the passenger’s side and simply patted his lap. You flushed at the action. When you didn’t immediately move, he looked at you with a slight smirk and raised an eyebrow.

Over the past two years, you became used to the flirtatious smirks and sexual remarks from both attractive and unattractive customers whilst working in the seedy club in the lower decks of Coruscant. You were used to dancing provocatively in front of an enraptured audience. But one simple hand gesture from him and suddenly you were blushing mess. You also realised this is the first time that he’s somewhat smiled since seeing him again. This only made you blush more. In an attempt to mask how flustered he made you, you moved to gently sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist to secure you, making you blush even harder and making the resurfaced butterflies flutter crazily in your stomach but thankfully he couldn’t see your face. Anakin, however, saw the entire exchange but decided not to say anything. He’ll have to question his master later.

Anakin flew the speeder to the Jedi temple, much to your reluctance. After the feeling of disappointing your master by leaving the order, the thought of ever returning made you feel queasy and the warmth of his arms wrapped around you didn’t help. As Anakin landed the speeder, Master Yoda, a blue and white astromech droid and a gold protocol droid greeted you. You stood behind the two Jedi, hoping to be ignored by your former master. No such look as he greeted you :

“Good to see you, it is, my former padawan”

“Master Yoda”, you greeted, bowing in respect, “it has been a long time.”

“Have become a fine Jedi, you would, but become an invaluable ally, instead you have. If correct, your information is, prevent losses, it may. Hmm. Been prepared for your arrival, a room has. Show you the way, C3PO will. Discuss further action with the council, we must. Talk later, we will.”

During the walk to your new room, you ignored the ramblings of the protocol droid as the familiar corridors of the Jedi Temple made you feel nostalgic. You remember the times you and Obi-wan would get in trouble as children. You shared everything with each other. But as you got older, you developed a crush that no amount of meditating would get rid of it. You had to hide your feelings as it was against the code to form attachments. However, it was far too late. You thought by distancing yourself more would make a difference but no matter what you did, his smile, his laughter, everything about him would make your heart flutter. Dismissing the droid once when you reached the room, you decided that a shower was in order.

The sound of the door knocking pulled you from the meditative state you had been in. After your shower, you started your bedtime ritual which included a small meditation session. Since leaving the order, you were no longer obligated to follow their rules and rituals but nothing helped calm you down better than meditating. It was currently three o’clock in the morning and so you definitely were not expecting anyone to come knocking. You opened the door :

“Obi-Wan ?”

“I realise it is far too late and I should be leaving you to rest but I can’t sleep.”

You silently gesture for him to come in before closing the door. As padawans, it wasn’t unusual for one of you to go see the other when we had difficulty sleeping. Nothing had to be said. You started making two cups of tea as he sat on the small couch near the window of your room. He wasn’t wearing his robes but a thin cotton shirt and trousers. For a brief moment, you both felt like padawans again.

As you handed him his tea, he shifted and the moment of nostalgia was over :

“I’ve come to apologise”, he started, “I was unfairly rude to you and I would also like to apologise for blowing your cover”.

“I somehow don’t think it was your fault. Something tells me that they had known about me long before you even turned up”

“You suspect they knew you were a spy ?”

“Yeah, call it a gut feeling”

He nodded in agreement, stroking his beard. You didn’t think he could be any more attractive but the sight of him sat on your couch in his casual clothes made everything seem intimate. You had to tear your gaze away from the hand near his mouth, hoping he didn’t sense what you were feeling.

“I hated being there anyway, so I’m definitely not upset over never having to go back there ever again”

His brows furrowed at your statement :

“More so than here ?”

“What ?”, you reply in confusion.

“I - Did you hate it there more than being at the Temple ?”

You looked at him, wondering why he would ask such a question. Normally, you would just ignore such a question and try to change the subject, but had been a very tiring day and something about the moment just made you want to give in.

“I never hated being at the Temple.”

A heavy silence followed your answer. When you left the order, you promised you would never tell anyone your reasons, afraid of rumours would spread and Obi-Wan’s devotion to the order and the code would be put into question.

“Why did you leave ?”

“Obi-Wan, I-”

“No please. I never understood why you left. I thought you were happy at the Temple. I remember the fun we had as children.”

“Obi-Wan please -”

He gently picked your hands up and held them, gently rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs. The rough but soft caress of his thumbs made you feel weak and you felt resolve crumble.

“I loved you”, you quietly whispered. Hoping maybe he hadn’t heard you, but the sudden freezing of his thumbs confirmed that he had.“ I tried not to”, you quickly added. “ I tried so hard to be a good Jedi but it didn’t work. If anything it made me love you more. So I left. I didn’t want to ‘corrupt’ you. I knew how much becoming a Jedi Knight meant to you.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid of what you’ll see. Afraid that he would turn cold again and that it would truly be last time you ever see him again. Instead, you heard him move closer and felt his forehead gently rest against the side of your face. Confused, you gently turn your face to him so both of your foreheads rested against each other. He had his eyes closed and you closed your own. You could feel his warm breath softly flow over your face he slowly leaned in more. His nose brushed softly against yours as his lips pressed to yours. Your lips touched for a few seconds before he leaned in more, deepening the kiss. One of his hands moved up to gently cup your jaw.

After what felt like hours, but probably was only a few minutes, you both separated. You were in a daze and felt on top of the world.

AN : I had to repost this because Tumblr glitched, but anyways here it is. I spent way to much time on this and I’m still not entirely happy with it but I hope you enjoy it !

PS : Please tell me I’m not alone in struggling to find titles for their fanfictions.

#starwars #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obiwan x reader #obi wan kenobi #padawan anakin #anakin skywalker

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reminiscing-writer · 3 years

Text

Off The Deep End

Warnings: violence, harsh language, fainting, miscarriage, and lots and lots of crying.

Derek Morgan, if you go over to those curtains one more time, I swear on all my plushies back at Quantico, I will beat your ass myself.” Penelope threatens for the fourth time in the past few hours. She receives a smile from Emily who’s seated beside a napping JJ.

“Babygirl. I’m just trying to open a window, it’s too hot here.” He squints at her, with sweat beads on his forehead.

“I don’t care!” She snaps, placing her laptop aside a little rougher than she'd like. She gets up from her spot on the couch, and shoves Derek aside from the open window, “You’re going to sweat through your clothes, you are going to make a puddle on this floor. I don’t care! But, we are not opening these, because if these open, then my internet fades away, and if my internet goes away, then I can't do any digging to find Spencer. So, no, Derek, you may not open the window!” She snaps.

He stares at her for a moment with wide eyes silently. As she returns back to her spot he follows her and sits at her feet.

“What?” She growls frustratedly. He softly takes her glasses off her face and folds them, putting them aside. “I can't see without those, Derek.” She huffs, going to take them back. He stops her hands, and brings them to his mouth and gives her knuckles soft kisses.

“Sweetie, I know this is stressful. It’s hard on all of us,” He speaks to her with love, “but, it's important we don't lose our temper with each other.” She looks at him dearly with teary eyes.

“I just wish I could do more.” She sniffles quite like a mouse, tears dripping from her eyes, “I feel like we’re not doing enough to help him.”

The team is all at wits end. It’s very clear. Earlier, Hotch had lost his temper with JJ because she hadn’t ‘talked to the local police about the case yet’. Even he knew that was a ridiculous thing to argue over, because, the local PD had nothing to do with this case. But, nonetheless, he had yelled at her, and she had argued back, causing the both to walk away from each other heated.

“Well, then talk to me. Tell me, what is it that can help you work better.” Derek wipes his dear friends cheeks, “Want me to help set the internet a little better?” He asks, stroking her cheeks with his large hands.

Her lips perk up at the corners, “Now you're talking my language, Baby.” She nods like a little child. The two continue back and forth for a bit. They don't realize they have a watcher from afar.

From the dining table in the kitchen, Amelia sat watching the two agents longingly. She knew they didn't have a romantic relationship, but she envied the way they were touching each other and smiling and loving. She envied them and she hated herself for it. Because, with every hour that passed without Spencers being found, was another hour that she was growing angrier.

Not at the team, she knew they were trying their best. But, at herself? She didn't really know; she just needed to be angry at something, or someone.

“How are you feeling?” A hand on Amelia's back startles her. She looks up to see Aaron.

He was older than her by a good decade or so, but Spencer always spoke with such respect to his name. Not so much as a father figure, but more so an older brother. So, eventually that's the role Amelia gave him in her life also.

“Alright,” She lied, taking a sip of her unintended cold coffee.

He takes a seat beside her. He’s about to say something when Derek and Penelope both call for Amelia.

Both of the two seated in the kitchen come into the living room. Hearing their call startles JJ awake, as she was napping on the love seat opposite to them. Emily places a hand on her thigh to reassure her nothing has happened.

“Ameilia,” Garcia starts off just above a whisper, “did you ever have anyone come and check your internet?”

All eyes are on her, “Yeah,” she's confused. She already said the internet was slow. Why does it matter? “I called someone a couple months back, but he didn't really help. In fact, I think it just got worse after he checked it.” She half shrugs. “Spencer thought I was crazy when I told him that.” She gives a ghost of a smile.

“What exactly did he do? The man you called for the wi-fi?” Penelope pries.

“Why does it matter?” Hotch asks.

“Just give me a second to figure this out,” Penelope stalls, looking back to Amelia, “What did he do when he came?”

Amelia licks her dry lips, starting to get anxious, “Um- he checked our router and our modem. Said it was old school, and he would give us a new one free of cost.” She takes a shaky breath in, “Why?”

“Where’s the new system he set up?” Derek asks, standing up from the couch he was seated on.

After Amelia points to the closet in her room, she comes back to Penelope. “Pen, what is it?”

“I have a hunch,” Garcia says, typing on her laptop, “I don't want to be right about it.” Derek comes out of the room with a tiny black box with flashing red lights. He hands it to Garcia, who without a beat says, “But, I'm afraid I am.”

“Sweatpea, this isn’t a new modem. This is a blocker.” Penelope says, turning it around and switching off numerous buttons on it. “The guy, whoever he was, came in here, and planted this on purpose.” She speaks directly to Ameila, though the whole team is watching her with wide eyes.

“Why would - why would someone do that?” Amelia stutters.

“It all makes so much more sense now!” Penelope's brain switches a flip and she tosses the blocker onto the floor, and starts typing hard on her computer. She laughs, “My internet is back! And I got something else too!” JJ gets up to stretch her legs and is instructed by Pen to go and open the curtains.

She's confused, but follows orders as told.

“Derek Morgan, I could kiss you.” Peneople is in her own world.

“I would love that, I really would. But, if we could know why…?” He snaps in front of her screen but she shoos his fingers away. She's in a trance. Maybe it's just because her internet is back up and running, but Amelia begins to get impatient.

She finally turns the screen around to show the team what she's looking at. She's panting as though she ran a mile in under a minute.

The whole team looks at her screen in confusion. “Is that-?” Emily starts.

“Is that us?” Amelia finishes.

“That's us.” Morgan confirms as he raises his arm just to watch his arm raise on the screen.

“What is going on?” Aaron looks at Penelope.

Penelope waits for a dramatic pause, and then she says with complete confidence, “Amelia, someone has been watching you and Spencer for a while now. That same someone was the one who had that blocker planted in your apartment, so they could block any interruptions in and out of here. My bet is,” She turns her laptop back around, “they’re the ones in charge of Spencer's kidnapping.”

Amelia takes in all the information one by one. “But, I called the internet guy just out of chance.” She recalls her memory.

“Where did you find his number?” Emily asks.

“Spencer gave it to me. Actually, he’s the one who called him.” She remembers, “I had complained to him that I was having trouble working on my kindergarteners report cards, so he said he had found someones number on a bulletin board. He’d spoken to him himself, and said the guy would come over the weekend.”

“This is good,” Hotch says, “this is the closest thing to a lead we’ve had since Spencer has gone missing. Emily and Derek, you two go and check out the bulletin boards back at the office, and check if you can see what number Spencer had gotten in contact with.”

The two agents nod, and head out of the apartment, “Penelope,” Hotch says. As she looks up, he replies, “great work.” She beams a smile.

Amelia feels something deep in her stomach. Maybe it's the baby she never forgets about. Or, maybe it's the sense of guilt taking over her. Because, if she hadn't complained to Spencer about the crappy wi-fi, then the man wouldn't have come over. If he didnt come over, he wouldn't have planted the blocker which would mean they wouldn't have surveillance on them. Which would mean Spencer wouldn't have gotten kidnapped, and then he’d still be here today holding her close and-

She begins to feel lightheaded and loses her footing slightly staggering in place. Aaron quickly catches eye of her losing balance and runs up to her. He quickly places a hand on her back and seats on the nearest couch.

“Amelia, we will find him, you have to take it easy..” He reassures her. Most, if not all, of the team knew about her pregnancy. Only the females had made it verbal, but the males also showed just a little extra care towards her in the past 24 hours

Emily and Derek roll up to their Quanatico office half an hour after the conversation back at the Doctors apartment. They both step out of the car. “So, what are we looking for?” Derek asks, taking off his sunglasses, tucking them into his back pocket.

“Well, Amelia said Spencer had found the electricians number on the bulletin board. Our first best bet is probably the one in the kitchen.”

“But,” Derek opens the door for Emily, “is it really like him to just call a random stranger over to his apartment? I mean, the guy doesn't sound like he worked for a big company.”

The two file into the elevator and start heading up, “Well, he's not really one for technology, is he? He wouldn't really care as long as the problem got solved. Amelia said herself, the problem wasn't bothering him, it was bothering her.” Emily walks out of the elevator first after it stops.

“And, he would do anything in his power to help her be happy.” Derek says as they walk into the bullpen and head for the kitchen. “Even if that meant calling up a stranger and asking for help.”

When they walk into the kitchen nothing stands out to them. Coffee is brewing for other agents, sing has a few dirty mugs, and the bulletin board is just filled with papers they'd seen before.

Derek skims the pages and doesn't seem satisfied, “This is all the regular stuff. Flyers for newbies, orientation timings, and lectures by older agents. Nothing about electricians.”

“Well, there has to be something somewhere.” Emily grunts as she goes to fill herself a mug of hot caffeine. She offers to make Derek a cup, but he declines politely.

“Okay, so I’m Pretty Boy, okay?” He looks at Prentiss, “My wife needs help with the internet at home. I don't know jack squat about that stuff, so what do I do?”

“Ask someone else for help?”

“But, I'm also too shy to ask someone myself. I don't see any flyers here at work, so…” he trails for a second before continuing, “maybe, i see a flyer at my regular cafe.” He lifts an eyebrow suggestively.

Emliy hums in agreement, “Could be.” She nods, “He does get to work with coffee in hand, so he has a regular spot. Someone was already watching him, so they probably knew that. Could’ve planted a trap for him there.”

Derek takes out his phone and dials a memorized number on speaker, “Speak to me, Chocolate Thunder.” Penelope answers.

“Hey, Mama. I need you to look up the route from Spencer's apartment to work. Tell me what coffee shops you see between us.”

Typing begins on the other side before the hear Amelia's shy voice.

“Is this regarding Spencer?”

“Yeah,” Emily answers, “would you happen to know where he got his morning coffee from, Amelia?”

“Uh, yes,,” she replies, “it’s this small cafe like ten minutes from here.” She pauses, “I think it's called The Corner Brewery.”

“Already sent you the address to your cells.” Garcia adds.

“Of course The Genius marries a Genius.” Derek smiles, “You're a lifesaver, Amelia. You too, PC. Get back to you two soon.” He hangs up.

“To the The Corner Brewery we go.” Emily jangles the keys.

Amelia is in the kitchen making some pasta. No one is hungry, including her. But no one stops her, because she needs something to keep herself busy or she goes back into overthinking mode. Unhealthy for her and the baby.

Penelope sits clacking away at her computer. She had a router backtracking number from the camera she had gotten connected to (the surveillance footage one), so she was hoping she could find the location it was coming from.

Hotch sat across from her, on the phone with Strauss because she was on his ass about his entire team being absent from work with no notice. Hotch was winning the argument, he usually is.

JJ walks into the kitchen, “Can I help?” She offers.

“No, thank you.” Amelia says quietly and politely.

“Amelia,” JJ calls for her attention, “Em and Derek are so close to getting more information. We’ll find him. I promise.”

“Aren't you not allowed to give empty promises like that?” Amelia locks eyes with JJ for the first time all day. It knocks the breath out of Jennifer because she sees just how broken Amelia looks. Her eyes are puffy and rimmed red from constant crying. Her nose is red, and her lips are trembling.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay, I just-,” Amelia turns back to the pot she was stirring, “I really want him to come back home, but please stop giving me false hope.”

It breaks JJ’s heart seeing Amelia so broken. They were never super close, but Amelia was Spencer's wife. And, Spencer was her best friend, and that was enough for her to love Amelia.

A knock on the front door breaks the girl's attention away from their brief conversation.

Hotch stands up immediately, and JJ protectively stands in front of Amelia, with her hand immediately on the gun on her waist. Hotch takes a slow step towards the door, and calls out loudly, “Who is it?”

No answer.

Hotch looks back at JJ, and when she nods, indicating she's ready to fire on command, he swiftly opens the door, pulling out his own gun simultaneously. There's no one at the door, which makes Amelia exhale a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Theres a small package on the welcome mat outside, and just as the previous package, in messy handwriting, it has Mrs. Reid scribbled on it.

Hotch quickly looks outside the door left, right, then left again, and brings the package inside. After shutting and locking the door, he places it on the center table.

Amelia, still traumatized from the last thing they received slowly approaches it, “What is it?”

Aaron shrugs, “Light,” he lowers himself to inspect the package before opening it, “doesn't seem like there's much in it.”

“Maybe you should go inside,” Penelope offers, “since last time-”

“No,” Amelia quickly interjects, “I can handle it. I can do it, I have to. This is about my husband.” She inhales deeply, “I can be strong for him. Open it, Aaron,” She encourages him with the fakest face of courage she can muster up.

He waits a moment, but realizes she's not going anywhere. He begins opening the packing cautiously, just to realize it's a cardboard box. Inside is just a disk. A CD. No label, no tag, no writing. Just a CD.

All heads turn to Garcia, and she nods and holds out a palm to Hotch, “Pass it, I’ll check what it is.”

He hands it to her and she inserts into her laptop. Amelia is seated beside her watching her work away on her laptop.

“There’s a single file on here. A video.” She squints at her screen.

Without another movement made by Garcia, a video opens up on her computer. Her and Amelia gasp in unison. It’s Spencer. Tied to a chair, bloody rag covering his now four-fingered hand.

He looks scared, and bloodied and bruised. His hair is matted down to his forehead and one of his eyes is so swollen that it’s shut. Breathing labored, he tilts his up towards the camera slightly, his messy hair moving with him.

Amelias eyes water and her lips tremble. She covers her mouth with a shaky hand to stop herself from crying. Be brave, she reminds herself, be brave and strong for Spencer.

Penelope places her equally shaking hand on her friends thigh, just as to remind her, we’re here for you.

“Whenever you’re ready, Spencie.” A voice says from off camera. Garcia places the laptop front and center on the living room coffee table.

Spencer takes a deep breath, “Amelia,” his bottom lip quivers, “I am so sorry, Sweetheart.” At the mention of the nickname Amelia whimpers. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, and I would never have hoped you would be involved in this also.” He shut both his eyes and looked down at his lap. “We’ll figure this out, Buttercup.” This nickname causes Amelia's eyes to water and start streaming silent tears. “Just you and me, against the world.” A small smile from him earns him an identical one from his wife.

“And, Amelia, I promise you,” he swallows hard, looking back up once again. His face almost unrecognizable, this time JJ looks away with her eyes shut, “once I get out of here, you and me, we’ll go on that date to Griffith Park observatory you’ve always wanted to go to. But, maybe we’ll skip the ending, I don’t like the end of the observatory.” Amelia furrows her brows, her heart beating a mile a minute. “And, then, maybe we could watch a movie. Like that one Jim Carrey film. What was it? Something, Ventura? It was top class acting, I know you said that.” Amelia can sense something off, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. She messily wipes her tears, sniffling. She stands up catching the eye of JJ.

“Please, Amelia.” Spencer pleaded desperately, “I love you.” He was crying too. His voice was shaking. He was at his breaking point.

“Hey, Lover Boy!” The same voice from before came loudly. A man walked from behind the camera, keeping in mind of not showing his face. He walks towards Spencer, his back to the viewers, “Would you like to give us the password now?”

Amelias breathing shallowes, and she unconsciously placed a hand on her stomach. As she stares at Spencer with wide eyes, the man swings a punch straight to his gut. “Couldn’t hear you, dear.” He chuckles evilly.

Amelia watches in horror as the man cracks his knuckles, “Speak up for me.'' Another punch gets delivered to her husband's chest.

“Please stop.” Spencer pleaded, spitting blood. The sight made Amelia cry loudly, and Aaron tries to move her from in front of the screen.

“Garcia, turn it off.” He orders, equally shaken up.

“I’m trying,” she cries, tapping at herkeyboard, “it won’t go away.” She sniffles desperately.

“You know what I want. Give it to me, and I’ll stop.” The man threatens. He walks away for a second just to return back into the screen with a large metal rod.

“Garcia!” Aaron scolds loudly.

“It won’t turn off!” She yells back, scared.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, and as if Amelia's body couldn’t handle seeing her husband get hurt any longer, her eyes shut on her, and she falls straight to the floor.

“I’ll tell you!” The team hears Spencer plead on camera. But, no one is watching the screen anymore. Instead, they all quickly huddle around Amelia, who lay on the floor. Eyes shut with tears streaking her cheeks. The commotion of the apartment is loud for the next few moments.

Spencer in the video giving a password to his captor. Garcia is on the phone with the police, telling them to send an ambulance to her current address. JJ is trying to wake up Amelia, her head being softly placed onto the agents lap.

JJ strokes Amelia's hair softly, “Amelia, please. Please wake up.” She whispers, her eyes ready to leak tears.

Aaron, in the midst of the chaos, turns his attention to Spencer just to hear him say the last few letters.

“That’s not right.” He mumbles, grabbing JJ’s attention.

“What?” She looks up.

“That’s not the code. If the code they want is the Integrity Files one, he gave them a faulty password.”

“Why would he do that?” She asks.

A few moments later, paramedics rush into the apartment. After Garcia argues her way into the ambulance also, JJ and Aaron agree to meet at the hospital.

“I’ll let Derek and Emily know.” JJ says to Garcia as she sits next to a still unconscious Amelia. Penelope nods and the medics shut the ambulance doors.

Back at The Corner Brewery, Derek and Emily walk with purpose. The barista asks them for their orders.

“No coffee, although, we were wondering if you guys had a bulletin board of any sort?” Emily asks as Derek takes a look around.

The cafe was very large. It was busy, and the amount of customers made Derek nervous if they would find any information they seeked.

“Yes,” the man behind the counter replied bored, “we allow paying customers to post any advertisements they want over there.” He points to a cork board that hung at the end of the store.

Very big, and very much covered in papers, and stickers and flyers.

They nod, and before heading to the board, Derek feels the need to flash his badge. Just to show that he has a reason to be here.

“Where do we start?” Emily gawks at the board. There’s at least 50 different papers layered on top of one another.

The two agents start to remove paper by paper to see if they can see any ads that may stand out. After half an hour of unsuccessful searching, Derek excused himself.

“I gotta take a bathroom break, Prentiss.” He walks away as she nods. He walks up to the barista and asks for the men’s room. As he’s about to walk away, he catches glimpse of a page hanging behind the wall the barista stood in front of. “Hey, my man.” He grabs the servers attention, “What’s that?” He points to the page.

The barista comes by. He tears the paper off the wall and hands it to him. “An ad, probably hung up by one of the other servers here. Customers aren’t allowed back here.” He gives a half shrug before walking away.

Need help with bad internet? Call us today!

Derek rushes back to Em to show her what he found.

“Hey, check this out.” He hands it to her.

She reads it over. It looks simple, like it was printed at home. A stock photo image of a computer with a large red cross over it. The heading was big and bold. Loud enough to catch attention.

At the bottom of the page, there was a name and number.

“Leonel Cassum.” Emily reads the name at the bottom.

“I think we should give him a call,” Derek looks over at the number, “after that bathroom break.” He turns back around to where he was before.

“So, Leonel,” Derek starts, sitting opposite of the male they called in for questioning, “tell me, how’s business?”

He’s confused. The freckles on his nose move as he scrunches his nose, “It’s alright, going decent enough.” He looks from Derek to Emily and back. “Am I allowed to ask why I’m here?”

Derek gives a large smile, almost condescendingly, “Of course you are,” he pauses, waving over Emily. She hands him a folder. “now, do you know who Dr. Spencer Reid is?”

The young blonde shakes his head. “No, why am I here?” There’s a shake in his voice.

“Because,” Emily takes a seat next to Derek, “Dr. Reid is missing. And you’re our only lead. The whole case is sitting on your shoulders.” She points her index to him.

He stares back, mouth agape, “W-what? No, no that’s not possible.” He leans forward, “Look, you guys have the wrong guy. I didn’t do anything. I don’t even know who that is!” He looks desperately from one agent to the other.

“Really?” Emily raises an eyebrow, “Well, it says in your call records,” she opens her folder, “that you spoke to Dr. Reid exactly three months ago. It was a five minute long call. He had called you, at,” she squints at her page, “8 in the morning. Early, huh?” She looks to Morgan.

“Well, maybe Leonel here isn’t an early riser. That’s why he doesn’t remember who he spoke with. Right, Leonel?” Derek looks to their guest.

He stares back, “I- I may have spoken to him.” He shrugs, “But, I speak to a lot of people everyday. It’s nothing significant.”

“Well, it must’ve been. Because, you spoke to him on a Friday, and agreed the very next day. Fast service for such a busy company.” Emily counters.

Leonel looks to the dark haired agent, “It must’ve been a slow weekend, I really don’t know what you guys are intending.” He continues his innocence.

Emily stands up slamming the table with her palms, scaring the kid, “We’re intending you spoke to the Doctor, came to his house, placed a blocker in his home,” she inches close to Leonel's face, “and have been watching him like a stalker since then. Now he’s gone missing! So, who’s head is that on? Yours!” She yells in his face.

Leonel scoots back, “I didn’t do any of that!” He cries.

“We have footage of you walking into his apartment, Leonel!” Emily walks around the table so she’s next to his chair, “How much are you going to lie before you break?” She stares at him menacingly. Derek quietly watches, playing the good cop between them.

Leonel's shoulders start to shake.

“I’m real tight on money.” He squeaks. “Some guy came up to me at a cafe and told me he’d pay me hefty if I just go along with a few things he wanted.” He looks to Derek, almost ignoring Emily.

“It started off small, like just making a flyer. Then he told me I'd receive a call,” he wipes his nose with his sleeve, “and after a few days, I did. I was told what to say, and I did exactly that.” He wipes his tears quickly, “All I did was set up a small blocker in his apartment.” His breathing gets shaky again, “But, that’s all! That’s all I did! I didn’t kidnap anyone! I didn’t hurt anyone! I swear!” He cries.

Emily goes back around next to Derek, “If he’s saying the truth, then there’s another surveillance guy.”

“I don’t know who he is,” Leonel speaks quietly, “but,” he swallows hard, “I can tell you where he’s at. I heard the guys who hired me talk about it once.”

Leonel gets sat with a facial artist first, to hopefully get a rough sketch of the man who hired him. And then he gives the address of what he thinks should be the place the creep who was watching Spencer is set up.

Derek drives to the given address, which happens to be just a street opposite of Spencer and Amelia's abode.

“Makes sense, seeing as how close this is to Amelia's place,” Emily gets out of the passenger seat and looks up at a tall building, squinting as the sun hits her eyes.

“Well, this is the address blondie gave us, so let's give it a look.” Derek starts to walk into the apartment complex before them.

They walk in and quickly come to realize that anything could happen in this building, and no one would know. The place was empty. Maybe there were residents living there, but whoever they were, they were very much to themselves.

The two agents make sure their badges are on display on their belts, and start to inspect the building. Slowly making their way up each floor, they finally stop at the 7th floor. As the elevator doors open, Derek stops the doors from closing with his hands, “Well, this looks promising.”

The floor seemed to be under construction. Paint buckets laid everywhere, and plastic sheets hung from the walls.

As the two stepped out of the elevator, they hear a paint can fall in the distance. Instantly whipping their head in that direction, Emily calls out loudly, “Federal Agents! Who's there?”

When instead of a reply they hear footsteps running, both of them grab a hold of their weapons and start running towards the sound. Derek gives a quick and quiet hand motion, telling Emily to split up to over more ground.

It a large floor and the place is split into different sections just by plaster or lanky wood. Once the footsteps stop, the only sound they hear is wind and their own breathing. Neither of the agents say a word.

Then, a sound behind Morgan, something sounding like a rustling makes him whip his entire body around and instinctively tackle. And rightfully so, because down goes the man they’re supposedly looking for.

Emily comes running up next to the two men who are wrestling, (although Morgan is most definitely winning). She hands Derek a pair of handcuffs and pulls out her vibrating cell to see JJs caller ID.

“Great time, JJ,” She breathes into the phone catching her breath. “We’ve got good news.”

“I’ve got some bad news.” JJ says at the same time on the other end. When Emily doesn’t say anything else, she continues, “What’s the good news?”

Emily walks a few feet away from Derek as he forces his handcuffed man up forcefully. She walks towards a set up right by an open window. A camera, a laptop, a few other boxes that are beeping green and red, and something that she didn’t expect; a large sniper rifle. All aiming straight at the dear doctors apartment.

“We found our peeping Tom. Well, he seems more like sniping Tom, but you know what I mean.” Emily says, “What’s the bad news?” She furrows her brows.

“Amelia fainted at the apartment.” JJ says, “We received a video of Spencer and she passed out while watching it. We’re headed to the hospital now.”

“Okay, we’ll meet you there.” Em replies, following Derek into the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, and Em?”

“Yeah?”

“This is about the Integrity Case. The kidnappers were torturing Reid for the password on camera.”

We’re so sorry. Sorry. So sorry. We tried. Our deepest condolences.

It doesn’t make any sense to Amelia. Sorry about what? She can barely remember what’s happened, and here doctors and nurses apologizing to her.

She continues to stay silent as a male doctor stands before her speaking of something that doesn’t register in her brain.

She’s in a hospital. She knows that. She’s been changed into a gown, she knows that also. Her mind feels woozy, that’s something also.

A nurse steps in front of her, “Is there anything I can do for you, Darling? Before we leave you for a bit.”

Amelia licks her lips before speaking, “I’m just a little lost,” as she speaks, she realizes she’s slurring her words slightly, “what’s happened?” She blinks hard.

“Oh,” the nurses blinks, “well, you’re friends out there say you had a fainting episode. And, well, sometimes if the body is undergoing a lot of stress, it can put a lot of stress on the baby also.” She's speaking slowly and clearly- unlike the doctor before her. “Sometimes, that can cause the fetus to get over worked,” she tilts her head slightly, “and, in your case, unfortunately, the fetus was far too young to try and save.”

The words slowly start to settle into Amelia's already foggy brain. Her hand goes onto her stomach.

Sorry. So sorry. We’re so sorry.

“We did try our best, but there was only so little we could do.” The nurse says sympathetically.

“The baby,” Amelia's voice is quiet, “the baby… is gone?” She asks in utter disbelief.

“We are so terribly sorry for your loss, hun.”

And before another word can leave anyone else’s mouth, Amelia's shoulders start to tremble as she breaks down. Loud cries leave her room as she cries over the loss of her unborn child.

A nurse comes outside and informs the team of what happened. Some shed a tear, others conceal their feelings till they’re in private. But they all hear the cries from Amelias room. Loud and clear.

It’s all pent up feelings.

Grief, because even if the baby wasn’t in her arms, it was still inside her. She was still talking to the baby. Telling them about what a great father Spencer is. Talking to them about how wonderful a mother she will be also. How much she’s looking forward to them growing everyday. Telling them just how much they’re loved, even before they’ve entered the world.

Anger, because Spencer isn’t here with Amelia. He didn’t know she was pregnant, much less know she’s lost the baby. She knows it’s ridiculous to be angry, but she is upset. He should’ve been here. If he was here, she wouldn’t have lost the baby.

She knows it’s not his fault. He wanted a family just as much Amelia did. They’d been trying for years, and when they did finally succeed-

Amelia screams. Again, and again, and again.

Some words. Some just incoherent screams. Her voice is not nearly loud enough to express all the emotions she’s feeling. Her screams boom through the whole maternity ward. While some mothers are cradling their newborns, this mother is mourning the loss of hers.

JJ decides to stay back with Amelia, even if it does mean just waiting in the waiting room. Garcia and Derek team together to go back to the apartment to gather all their belongings to head back to the office. Hotch and Emily agree to head into question their newfound suspect.

Amelia is left alone in the room.

Missing her husband.

Missing her child.

Losing everyone she loves, one by one.

Tag team!

(Drop a comment if you also want to be tagged when the next part goes up!)

@twentysomethingloser92 @spencerreidsthings @mbowles23-blog @andiebeaword @dontshootmespence @notdisneychannel @wiitchxbiitch @manchildstagram @lagirl112

#criminal minds #spencer reid sad imagines #og story #off the deep end #spencer reid #sad #angst'kidnapping #kidnapping #angst #oc

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter four: los angeles

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 2.2K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: i’m not a huge blog and don’t have a lot of readers -- but i’m so, so, so grateful to every single one of you who’s reached out to me on AP2. hearing what you think about this story makes my day every time. from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. hope you enjoy this chapter. the story wraps up in the next one!

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

***********************

“You see, as messes go -- there are levels.”

Seokjin takes a big sip of his draft beer then sets it down to free his hands.

“On the bottom are your run-of-the-mill problems,” he says, putting one hand out flat.

His other hand comes out to hover over the first.

“Then your regular-level shitshows, then your high-level shitshows and then there’s disasters,” he says, stacking his hands in the air to demonstrate the escalation.

You smother the urge to roll your eyes. Like most lawyers, Seokjin loves to hear himself talk.

He’s also an old friend, someone you trust and someone who’s help you desperately need -- so you’re going to have to suck it up and let him have some fun at your expense.

It’s only fair.

“Then somewhere way up here -- ” he stretches his upper body for effect, “ -- way past disasters is the shit you just told me. Somewhere way off the charts. Are you with me?”

You nod, taking a sip of your own beer.

“Yup.”

“So what the fuck?”

You laugh. You know it’s bad form to call up a buddy you haven’t seen in months, tell him you want to buy him a beer and then dump the world’s most complicated case at his feet.

It’s just that you haven’t been able to come up with another solution.

You’ve turned this problem over in your mind hundreds of times by this point -- envisioned dozens of ways this could end. No other scenario makes sense in the long run. This is the only way to put a stop to this madness without Jungkook behind bars for the rest of his natural life.

Or worse.

That’s why you’re prepared to pull out all the stops with Seokjin. You’re not going to let him get away with letting you down easy.

He hasn’t laughed you out of this bar yet so you’re taking that as a good sign.

“Jin, there isn’t anyone else who could pull this off,” you say, meaning every word. “I know you can fix this.”

He snorts.

“This guy gave agents the slip in two different countries and ghosted from a federal courthouse,” he takes another sip of his beer. There’s limits to what even I can do. Not that I don’t appreciate the ego stroke though, you know I do.”

You gnaw at the corner of one fingernail, thinking.

“So who is he?”

“I already told you, he --”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jin interrupts. “You know what I’m asking. Who is he to you?”

Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question?

“It’s complicated,” you sigh, and even that is somehow oversimplifying this entire fucked-up situation. “Not sure I know how to explain that.”

“Oh, I’m willing to bet there is quite a story there,” he smirks. “Some day you’re going to have to fill me in on all the dirty details.”

You glance away for a moment to avoid his knowing look.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it,” you say. “I’ve seen guys way worse than this get deals that kept them out of prison entirely.”

“Well you of all people know how this works, so don’t act brand new,” Jin retorts. “You want the government to play ball with this guy then he’s got to give them something they want. If they don’t have any use for him, they have no reason to show mercy.”

“I know that,” you admit. “Still trying to figure that part out.”

“So figure it out,” Jin pushes back. “‘Cause I’m an attorney, not a genie. I’m not in the wish-granting business. Bring me something I can use and we’ll go from there.”

We’ll go from there. A careful hope stirs in your chest when Seokjin says that.

You promise yourself you’re going to bring him an angle that works.

Now you’ve just got to find it.

*****************************

“Who is this guy to you?”

Jin’s question echoes in your head the entire way home.

It’s so much easier to focus on the what -- Jungkook on the run and all the problems that come with it -- than it is to focus on the why.

The why scares you too much to confront head-on. It’s not like you love this man, right?

He could be a terrible person. He could be as rotten in real life as he is on paper.

He could be playing you. It’s certainly not the first time the thought has crossed your mind.

But every time you start to entertain the doubts, something pulls you back. You can’t shake the feeling that Jungkook is none of those things. You can’t forget the way he looked at you in Puerto Rico. His face that night is forever burned into your mind.

So he’s either completely real or the world’s most convincing fake.

You pour a glass of water and unlock the burner phone. The message you’d tried to send back to the number he contacted you from bounced back. There hasn’t been a single new message since then.

You take a drink and consider what step to take next.

There is no way you’re going to push Jin to fight on Jungkook’s behalf until you know without a doubt this is something Jungkook wants for himself. For all you know, he’s happy with riding this out until the end. He could be totally at peace with the idea of never being at peace.

You stare at the screen for a moment before making up your mind to dial the number you’d found online.

The voice on the other end answers in Korean.

“Yoongi?” you ask.

The line is completely silent for a few seconds.

“I distinctly remember you promising me I’d never hear from you again,” comes the curt reply. You smile to yourself imagining the scowl he’s probably wearing right now.

“I did,” you admit. “Thing is --” you pause and choose your next words carefully, “ -- circumstances have changed. So I’m asking for your help one more time.”

Yoongi makes an aggravated noise, something between a growl and a grunt.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I might have a way to help him. Nothing is ironed out and there are no guarantees, but it’s something. It’s just that -- I haven’t been able to reach him.”

“Yeah well, neither have I.”

Shit. You hope the situation hasn’t gone completely upside-down in Nicaragua already. Getting him there was supposed to buy you some time.

“Okay, “ you exhale, pacing your kitchen floor. You tell yourself there could be a million reasons why he hasn't reached out to anyone. You tell yourself not to panic. You certainly don’t want to panic Yoongi, either.

“I need you to take down this number. If you reach Jungkook, you need to give it to him. Tell him if he wants to end this it’s the only way.”

Yoongi blows out a heavy breath.

“Yeah, alright. Go ahead.”

*****************************

God, you are really starting to hate this place.

The voice in your head that’s been telling you how deeply unsatisfied you are in this job has slowly gotten louder over these past few months. Now it’s all you can think about every morning as you swipe your badge and walk into the polished lobby.

This isn’t some labor of love for you.

It’s something you trained to do, started doing, kept on doing and you’re still doing now.

On and on and on in an endless string of days.

You’d started this job with the kind of starry-eyed enthusiasm that always annoyed the veterans around here. Now you can understand why. It doesn’t take long in this line of work to realize that justice is a concept that’s bought and sold. He who has the most cash makes the rules.

You grab a cup of coffee and log onto your computer to start in on the mountain of paperwork that awaits. It’s laborious and annoying and total bullshit but at least it’s a distraction. At least it keeps you from obsessing over the Jungkook situation non-stop.

So you throw yourself into the work just to make the hours tick by.

Your boss stops by before lunch, asks if you want to join him and some of the others at a local deli. You cry off, complaining about paperwork and deadlines and he smiles sympathetically as they head out. It’s a relief when their laughing voices fade away and this part of the office falls silent.

You are half-way through customizing your burrito order online when a shiver of realization walks up your spine.

***********************

“Seokjin Kim.”

He sounds so formal, answering his phone for a number he doesn’t recognize.

“Hey, it’s me,” you say, tossing your keys onto your kitchen counter.

“Oh, I didn’t realize -- wait, wait, wait. Are you calling me from a burner?” Jin asks incredulously. “Wow, it’s like we’re on The Wire or some shit.”

“Shut up,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “I’m calling because I think I might have come up with the angle.”

Jin whistles.

“Hope it’s a good one.”

“Yeah me too,” you mutter under your breath. “I just -- I can’t be involved in any way. I’m not even going to be able to talk to you until this plays out. No texts, no calls to my cell. I’m already way out on a limb here.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he says. “But hey, just for the record? A favor is something like, ‘Hey Jin, can you drop me at the airport on Tuesday? Hey Jin, would you mind picking up my dry cleaning?’ You know, for future reference.”

You laugh. Points were made.

*************************

You tell yourself -- this is long overdue.

That with or without Jungkook -- with or without the madness on that flight or the night in San Juan -- this was going to happen anyway.

And for the first time in weeks, you actually smile at the security guards who check bags at the entrance. You smile at the barista who talks too much at the Starbucks in the lobby. You smile at the creep from Cybercrimes on the elevator, even though he’s standing too close. He always stands too close.

You feel lighter than you have in ages and that’s fucking bizarre, because this could all still blow up in your face at any moment. Despite all you’ve done, Jungkook could be arrested at any time -- hauled away, locked away in prison for life. Hell, you could be joining him at some point, disgraced and discredited and detained.

But you woke up this morning and had a moment of clarity that knocked the wind out of you. Today, you’re going to walk out of this building on your own terms.

Every decision you’ve made along the way -- good or bad -- has been yours.

If they show up at your door with a warrant, then you’ll handle it. If they haul you off, then you’ll handle it. If Jungkook decides he wants Jin’s help and the agency never sniffs out a thing, then you’ll handle it.

You’ve done everything you can -- so either this works, or it doesn’t. But there’s a big fucking difference between being cautious and being scared.

You’ve decided you’re not going to be scared.

You read over the letter you’d typed, printed and signed before walking into your boss’s office.

His mouth gapes in surprise when you hand him your resignation.

Effective immediately.

************************

It’s been three weeks without a word from anyone.

Yes, you did specifically tell Jin not to reach out, you remind yourself.

The last time you two had spoken, you’d explained that you didn’t give a shit about losing the job, but that you were certain were entirely too prissy to make it in prison, and he’d agreed and you’d both shared a laugh about that.

But now it’s been over three weeks and he still hasn’t reached out.

You’ve had no word from him, no word from Jungkook and now you have no job.

The silence is deafening.

If there’s an upside at this point, at least your house is immaculate. You’ve gotten your daily run up to three miles.

Tonight the air is unnaturally cool for this time of year, more than welcome when you lace up your running shoes. You set a good pace, make good time, and drown out the outside world with your earbuds.

But at the end of your run -- just as you’re getting closer to home -- you notice something odd.

Your porch light is out.

Which is weird because you definitely remember replacing that bulb not too long ago. You cut the music and walk quietly up to your door.

Your entire body is on high alert as you approach slowly, keys in hand on the off chance you’re going to have to wield them like a weapon.

But when you step up to the porch you find -- nothing.

No creep waiting to jump out of the shadows to ambush you. You shake your head at your own overactive imagination, take a deep breath and tell yourself to relax.

You slide your key in the lock.

The sunlight that had waned at the start of your run is entirely gone at this point, and you open the door into darkness. You flip on the light, toss your keys on the small table you keep in the entryway.

“Don’t freak out, okay?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice that comes from your living room. From your couch.

From inside your goddamned home.

Oh my god.

**************************

#jungkook smut #jungkooksmut #jungkook x reader #jungkookxread #bangtanarmynet #xjoonchildx #xjoonchildx fic:AP2 #btssmut #bts fanfic

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-21: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“He disappeared for a very long time. So long, that I thought that he'd never make another appearance again.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

The door shuts with a click, leaving only me and Lin Yao in the room.

I smiled at her in thanks, only to realize that she'd closed her eyes in fear once the agent left. She looked absolutely terrified.

Is she afraid of her mother?

Lin Yao: Sorry for troubling you all earlier.

MC: It's alright. Don't worry about it.

I helped her change out of the dress as I pondered about how I should go about making the corrections.

The scars that marred her skin stood out much more starkly when combined with the black material of her dress. It might be because I'd scrutinized it too much, but I couldn't help feeling that her scars looked a little odd. They were regular, dense, and didn't look the slightest bit accidental. They appeared more man-made.

I was stunned by the revelation. What am I thinking? There's no way an up and rising female star would ever bear scars like that.

Having kept the clothes, I was just about to take out the pictures that I'd taken at the museum to get some inspiration from it when I saw Lin Yao bent over at the table. She was slowly folding a printed notice with utmost concentration.

She looks like an automated robot… folding the paper step-by-step as if following a program.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: This is?

Lin Yao: An origami butterfly.

She placed the origami butterfly on the table, staring motionlessly at it.

❖☆———————————★❖

We remained silent for a long while.

The suspicion in my heart only grew.

Were all stars so different on-screen and off-screen?

It felt as if the girl before me and the ever-smiling Lin Yao were two completely different people.

MC: Do you like butterflies?

Lin Yao: I guess you can say that.

MC: What if I made the tulle to resemble a swallowtail butterfly? You can wrap it around your wrists and skirt.

MC: I just thought that the character you portrayed is beautifully unique, like a swallowtail butterfly.

MC: She is like a moth to the flame known as freedom. That's why she can chase after it without a care in the world.

MC: Not to mention, the swallowtail butterfly also represents change, hope and courage.

MC: Whether it be in the movie, or if it's this formal dress; they're all a moment of change.

Something seemed to flash across her eyes upon the mention of change and hope

Lin Yao: Okay.

MC: Alright then! Let me work my design for a bit.

My phone suddenly rang. An'an had messaged me.

An'an (Voiced SMS): Quick! Look at my idol's Victory Quick-Cut! Do you know that I'm actually going to be interviewing his race team next week!?

I planned to leave it for later, but accidentally tapped into it. And that was how a round of applause came through the device.

In the video, Osborn took off his helmet and nodded as he acknowledged the crowd with a brilliant smile on his face.

Lin Yao: ...You like racing?

MC: Ahem… Not that I really understand it, though.

Lin Yao: Racing… has a lot of freedom.

The corners of her lips moved ever so faintly that it made me a little puzzled.

MC: Do you like racing?

Lin Yao: An old friend of mine aspired to be a racer ever since he was a kid.

MC: Did he manage to become one?

She shook her head as she looked past me and out towards the window where the sky had yet to turn dark.

Lin Yao: He disappeared for a very long time. So long, that I thought that he'd never make another appearance again.

Lin Yao: Fortunately… he's back now.

Her voice was soft. So very soft, that I wasn't too sure if she was talking to me, or if she was talking to herself.

A small tap finally broke the silence. I turned in the direction of the sound, only to see many origami butterflies lined up on the windowsill. They were all made of different colours, but they all looked like they were spreading their wings and ready to take flight.

There was a vague shadow of a person standing outside in the far distance, shrouded in the darkness of the night. Lin Yao stared blankly at the wings of the origami butterflies that softly trembled with the wind's guidance. Her eyes lit up.

Although we haven't been acquainted for long, this was the first time I've seen a spark of life in her eye. The gleam in her eyes was just like that of a hidden pearl, only to be found when a clam is cracked open.

My gut told me that whoever that person outside was, they were waiting for her; and that she was also yearning to go to them.

MC: Is it your friend?

Lin Yao never once averted her eyes, merely nodding.

Lin Yao: I want to go see him. But, my mother… Can you do me a favour?

I looked at her, suspicion colouring my eyes. She was just meeting someone… Why would her mother be against that? Unless her boyfriend was involved in gossip? I've never heard anything about it, though...

MC: How do you want me to help you?

Lin Yao: Make some noise in here. Make her think that we're still discussing the dress.

MC: Okay. But, your mom should be back very soon, so…

Lin Yao: I won't cause you any trouble. I'll be quick. I'm just going to give him a peek.

I hesitated for a while before taking off my coat and offering it to her.

MC: Here! Put this on just in case. It'll be bad if you get photographed by the media.

She froze, her eyes sparkling as they were alight with fire for a moment.

Lin Yao: Thank you.

Fortunately, the dressing room was on the ground floor, allowing her to simply open the window and flip herself outside. Seeing her leave, I started pacing around the room, raising my voice as I talked to myself.

Yet, I couldn't help but recall the expression on her face when she looked back at me before escaping through the window. That Lin Yao felt like she fitted with how I'd imagined her to be.

She had leaves in her hair when she returned, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, there was joy and fond remembrance written all over her face. She was clutching onto an orange-coloured origami butterfly with her eyes glued firmly to it. I helped her pluck the fallen leaves out of her hair.

MC: I'll head off first then. I hope you get an award.

She worried her lip as if wanting to say something. In the end, she settled for a smile instead.

Lin Yao: ...Thank you for the clothes you made for me. I'm really happy. I truly am.

❖☆———————————★❖

I smiled back at her. Upon opening the door, I bumped into the agent who’d already been standing outside. Nodding to her in passing, I hurriedly left the venue.

MC: Oh no! I forgot to arrange the next fitting session with her!

As soon as I got back to the door, I could hear the sharp shrillness of her mother’s voice lashing out at her inside the dressing room.

Agent: How dare you go against me like that in front of an outsider? What, ready to spread your wings and fly just because you’ve been nominated?

MC: Why’s her mother so fierce towards her?

Agent: You ingrate. I provided you with food, education, and a roof over your head. I’ve also spent a good load of money on you to make you a star.

Agent: You would never have such a promising and bright life now if I hadn’t adopted you back then.

Agent: Yaoyao, you’ve been the most obedient kid ever since you were young. You’re the only one I have left…

Her anger turned into regret before turning into a heartfelt plea that begged for compassion. Yet, Lin Yao never once replied to her.

This secret side of them that I’d unwittingly chanced upon shocked me for a long while. To think that there was such a sob story behind all the glamour of a perfect life that made people envious.

❖☆———————————★❖

I didn’t snap out of it until the sound of rustling leaves sounded. Lifting my head, I realized that it was already completely dark out.

The shooting crew had already gotten off work, so there were only a few employees scattered around the area.

MC: I should head home...

The only thing I could do for Lin Yao now was to make her dress, and make it well.

Under the moonlight, a lone security guard walks out from the direction of the dressing room where Lin Yao was.

His silhouette seemed rather familiar…

There was something orange peeking out from the side of his pocket. It looked like the same shade of orange that Lin Yao's origami butterfly had been.

Noticing my gaze, the man pulled his hat further down before turning and bolting out of the venue.

BANG!

He'd knocked into the well-prepared set assemble, making it suddenly come crashing down!

Seeing chaos befall the ground, I hurriedly ran over to him.

MC: Are you alright?

I quickly cleared away everything that had fallen on the ground, only to find the security guard from before… gone.

I couldn’t find a single trace of that guy anywhere. If it weren’t for the remains of the set in front of me, I would have thought that I was seeing things.

MC: Yikes! The set!

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-18) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-24 Light) / (Chapter 2-24 Night)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x nonbinary!reader part 7

TW: Remains

It was so interesting how different things can change how you feel. On (Y/N)’s cheek they could feel the soft cotton their dad’s blue sweater he liked to wear. They remembered laying their head on his shoulder after they fell asleep in the car on a long trip. On their right, their fingertips brushed an objected that made them remember their mother’s wedding ring. They remembered fiddling with it as a small child, moving it from side to side on their mother’s finger because it was too big for her slender digits. They smiled to themself, surrounded by familiar feelings and senses.

But...how?

(Y/N)’’s blood ran cold as they opened their eyes and was met with the skeletal face of their father. Looking to their left, they saw their fingers playing with their mother’s wedding ring on her skeletal hand. (Y/N) screamed, scrambling across the dirt floor to move away from the remains of their parents. Both of their clothes were in tatters, covered in blood, bugs and rats crawling through the skeletons. Roots of trees rooted them to the dirt walls Their bones were brown, their hair was straw like and white.

“I thought you would like to see them.” Winterfield came from the shadows, much less hairy than he had been earlier that night, “Give you the closure you deserve. Twenty-five years of waiting to find them.” He walked towards them with his arms behind his back, he wore black sweatpants but was bare everywhere else. Their eyes were brought to their arm, a cotton swab was tapped to their arm, tell-tale signs of an injection. (Y/N) glared at him.

“What did you do to me?!”

“I gave you what you needed!” He came closer, “I gave you the ability to become stronger, faster, healthier. To be perfect.”

“I don’t want to be a monster!”

He chuckled at their words, “A monster. That is exactly what I said to my maker. I was only fourteen when I was turned. I was a weak, frail child, sickly. I was dying and my family brought us to our lake house for one last vacation. And that’s when he found me and made me what I am. He made me strong again, so strong that I killed him myself after my bloodlust started attracting the locals and he called me dangerous. I realized after that that I needed no one, so I killed my family. But I became lonely, I wanted to share this gift that been given to me. I decided that I would make more, taking children like you and make them strong, for them to realize their true potential. It took years of trial and error, but finally I perfected the transformation. By introducing canine DNA into their systems, they were more likely to take to the gift.” He kneeled down in front of them, “You were my vision. A sickly child that could be healed by the transformation. But your parents took you away. I had to get rid of them, you understand.” He stood again, “They would not let you get better.” He grabbed a hold of their arm and tugged them into standing, “Just one bite. And you’ll be like me.” He looked up and they followed his gaze above, a lattice work of roots on the roof of the cave, revealing the moon near its peak. He looked back down, bringing their arm closer to his mouth where sharp teeth.

“Wait!” They said, causing him to pause with his mouth open.

“You want this to be perfect, don’t you? You should wait until the moon is as its highest.” (Y/N) rambled.

“You’re right.” He smiled, dropped their arm, “I should also prepare what you’ll have as your first kill. But then again, once the thirst starts, it won’t end well for your partner. I am so glad you finally understand. And soon, we will see the world through the same eyes.” He made his way back into the shadows.

(Y/N) bought Mulder time, but would it be enough?

After getting back out of the woods, Mulder led the Elkhorn sheriff’s department back to Winterfield’s home, the idea being that he would take her back to the cellar where the other body was found. But maybe... that wasn’t the case. He made an abrupt right turn onto Stuart Drive.

“Where the hell are you goin’, agent?” The sheriff’s voice crackled in over the walkie talkie they had given him.

“Bray road has been this guy’s feeding ground, I think he’s taken (Y/N) there to turn them. Once they becomes a beast, they’ll associate the road with food, he’s starting the cycle over with (Y/N).”

“Bray road goes out for miles, how are we going to find them?” He asked.

Mulder thought a moment, “We spread out in a fifty mile radius around the site of the most recent killings. I think that he took Jason there before dumping him back on the road since he was the only one left alive.”

When they made it to the area, the officers surrounded Mulder as they looked over a map.

“We start here and branch out. Please use your weapons with the silver bullets, your regular rounds will not work. We are looking at a monster, not a man. He is to be treated as an on-site shot. He is extremely dangerous and will kill you. Agent (Y/L/N) is top priority. Go out in pairs and keep your flashlights on when it gets dark.” He sent the officers on their way. The sheriff came up to him, cocking his shotgun.

“Lead the way, Agent Mulder.”

After a while into their search of the woods, the sheriff spoke up.

“So, do you think he’s already... bit, Agent (Y/L/N)?” Mulder had put off thinking of this, not wanting imagine them turning into a monster. Thinking about it though, (Y/L/N) was smart. Smart enough to get him on a case with them when he would only work with Scully or alone. (Y/N) believed in the truth and fought for the justice that their family deserved. He looked up at the sky, seeing the moon was getting closer to its apex.

“(Y/L/N) is smart, I’m sure they bought us some time.” He said, then tripped over a root in the ground. The sheriff caught him by the shoulder and steadied him.

“Whoa, there, Agent. Gotta watch out for those roots. These trees have root systems that go out for miles, they can make some pretty big sink holes too.” He said. Mulder looked down at the thick tree root that caught his shoe and an idea popped into his head.

“Are there any large sinkholes in this area?” Mulder asked.

“I do believe, about a mile or so that’a’way.” The sheriff motioned to the west.

“I got a hunch.” Mulder said, the both of them making their way towards the sinkhole.

When they made it to the sink hole, they found a large gaping hole in the Earth, there were deep grooves around the rim that seemed to be created in a clawing motion.

“I think this is where he’s been hiding,” The sheriff was down on one knee, looking at the foot prints in the soft dirt, “Looks like he’s left here recently, but he could be back at any second. You go down there and get Agent (Y/L/N), I’ll keep watch.” He stood. Mulder nodded, carefully scaling down the wall on the sink hole using roots and natural footholds in the dirt. He go the bottom, and flashed his light down to reveal a tunnel. If (Y/L/N) was any where, here was probably a good place to search.

He made his way until he saw light again, a voice caused him to pause.

(Y/N) was sat against the wall of the cave, watching the moon move across the sky. Winterfield would be back any minute and they would turn into a monster just like him. Tears burned in their eyes as they looked back at their parents. One of their father’s arms had been ripped away and half of their mother’s face gone.

“I’m sorry.” They said, biting their lip to try and stop crying, “I promised you I would never come back here. But I had to find you. I had to find the truth.” They hiccupped and laughed sadly, “I guess I did it though. The mystery is solved. But I’m going to be a monster just like him.”

“(Y/L/N)?” They stood up quickly at the voice, fearing that Winterfield was back. But to their overwhelming joy, Fox Mulder appeared in the moon light.

“Mulder.” (Y/N) breathed out, running to greet him at the tunnel mouth, wrapping their arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. After the excitement subsided, they realized they were hugging their superior and that really wasn’t appropriate-

Mulder pulled them closer, hugging them around their waist. They were quite sure he could feel their heart pounding. He created space between the two, placing his hand on their cheek. His green eyes were filled with happiness and his sly smile graced his face.

“You found me.” They whispered, leaning into his touch.

He nodded, “Yeah, us spooky people gotta stick together.” He looked over, seeing the skeletons in the corner.

“Is that...?”

They pulled away, and looked at them, “Yeah, that’s mom and dad.”

“I promise. We’re going to give them the proper funeral.” He said.

“I’m afraid, Agent Mulder.” Both the agents frozen at the growling voice that came from the shadows of the tunnel, “The only funeral will be yours.”

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 5

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

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Saturday morning dawned cold and bright but you hardly felt rested. You’d spent the better part of the night trying to squash your panic, curled up under your duvet with your phone in your hand, convinced that the second you closed your eyes something terrible would happen. The facts of the case bounced around in your mind like wasps, angry and frantic, trying their best to get out, but it was no use. You simply had to accept it, someone you worked with was stalking you. They were stalking you and murdering innocent people in some sick attempt to fulfil the fantasy in their mind, and that put everyone in your life at risk.

You’d realized it the night before and the thought alone made you feel sick. Stalkers were, by nature, unpredictable so there was no way for you to know which of your friends would be a target. The stalker could see any of them as a threat and decide to take matters into his own hands. Your only comfort came in knowing that your parents were on a cruise near New Zealand, and all your friends were safe under Rossi’s roof. For now.

You sighed and forced yourself out of bed, pulling on the most comfortable set of clothing you had and shuffling downstairs. As you made your way into the kitchen you were met by a sea of friendly faces and your spirits lifted slightly.

“Morning, Sunshine,” JJ greeted sympathetically, “we were wondering when you’d be up.”

“What time is it?” You asked, accepting a cup of coffee from her gratefully.

“8:17,” Spencer answered, giving you a small smile.

You smiled back and looked around, doing a mental headcount of all the faces at Rossi’s kitchen island, “Where are Morgan and Prentiss?”

“Morgan went to meet the M.E.,” JJ answered, slinging a protective arm over your shoulder, “and Em-“

“She’s still in her room,” Garcia cut in, pushing a cupcake on a plate towards you, “she’s awake but she won’t come down.”

You frowned and looked at JJ for clarification. JJ sighed and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“She’s-uh-she’s taking this whole thing pretty hard,” she admitted softly, “she doesn’t want to admit it, but you know how she is.”

You nodded, “I’ll talk to her,” you said, pushing yourself away from the kitchen island and pouring a second cup of coffee.

You trudged up the stairs, exhaustion tugging at your eyelids with every step. Emily’s room was next to Morgan’s and, before knocking, you just took a minute to watch. Emily was sitting on her bed with her back towards the door, staring intensely at something in her lap that you couldn’t see and your heart dropped.

———————————

Your stomach hurt from laughing so much as you watched the man Emily had brought over scamper off with his tail between his legs. Some real life FBI agent he’d turned out to be.

“That. Was. Brilliant,” you laughed, jostling her with your shoulder, “you, Emily Prentiss, are brilliant.”

“Why thank you,” she smiled, “god sometimes it’s too easy. It’s just too easy with these guys. What, do they think we’re stupid or something?”

It was girl’s night. The first you’d had in months and, quite frankly, you needed it. Your workload was killing you, and the weight of all the death you saw on the regular was making it difficult to find joy in anything anymore. Which was why you had your girls. Emily had dragged you all out to a local bar and plied you with alcohol until you were laughing and giggling like a bunch of preteens at a sleepover. It was wonderful, and you could feel yourself getting lighter and lighter with each passing minute.

“Almost definitely,” you agreed, taking another deep swig from whatever drink Emily had forced on you.

“Or they at least think we’re stupider than them,” JJ clarified.

Emily made a noise of agreement and rolled her eyes, “Which is why I personally have no interest in dating them.”

“Not that we could even if we wanted to,” Garcia pointed out, “I mean, who has time to date with this job?”

“Not me,” you said, “I haven’t been on an actual date in ages.”

“Well I’m sure we can find someone who’d be willing to take you out, Y/N,” Emily teased with faux innocence, “let’s think, ladies; who do we know who’s smart and funny, with a similar work schedule, who Y/N might be attracted to and who already thinks she’s wonderful?”

“Hmm,” JJ played along, “ooo that’s a tough one.”

“I’m stumped,” Garcia agreed, “oh wait! Here’s a crazy idea, what about Reid?”

JJ and Emily gasped, clutching their chests with looks of surprise so melodramatic that you couldn’t help but laugh, despite your embarrassment.

“Oh my god, Reid!” Emily agreed, “It’s perfect, Penelope Garcia you are a genius.”

“But wait, Y/N swears she’s not into him like that, guys, remember?” JJ joked.

“Ooohhh,” Emily and Garcia chorused.

“Well, I guess it’s hopeless then,” Emily joked, slinging an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “you’re stuck with me, Y/L/N.”

You smiled and kissed her back, leaving a lipstick smudge on her pale cheek, “Nowhere else I’d rather be, Prentiss. Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Garcia clapped her hands together in excitement and pulled out a camera, “Everybody say BAU!”

“BAU!” You all cheered in unison, collapsing into laughter the moment the flash went off.

—————————————

“Hey, you,” you greeted, “you not coming down for breakfast?”

Emily’s head snapped up and you caught a glimpse of the photograph in her hands. It was the one from that girls night, one of the last you’d ever had at the BAU. Not that anyone had known that at the time. You could see the resentment in her eyes, and the pain and you felt a sharp stab of guilt for everything you were putting your friends through.

“Garcia’s bought those cupcakes last night, they’re really tasty.” You continued, stepping hesitantly inside, “I could fetch you one if you’d like.”

“I’m not hungry,” she replied simply, “but I’ll take the coffee if you’re giving.”

You smiled and handed Emily the cup, taking a seat beside her on the bed. For a moment you just sat in silence, drinking your coffee together and thinking, but eventually the silence had to break.

“Em I know you’re mad-“ you started.

“Mad?” She interrupted with an incredulous laugh, “Y/N I’m not mad.”

“Yes. You are,” you insisted, “you have been ever since I came back to the unit. I mean, come on, you made me share a desk with Reid so that your purse had its own spot.”

Emily sighed and stared down into her cup, tapping her manicured nails against the ceramic, “Okay maybe I was a little bit mad,” she agreed, “but can you blame me? You left without saying goodbye!”

“I said goodbye!”

Emily rolled her eyes, “Not properly. You never really explained why. One day everything was fine and the next you’d handed in your resignation. It sucked, and I was mad,” she sighed, shaking her head, “and then I blinked and suddenly it’s a year later.”

“Time flies.” You agreed.

“Yeah! Yeah and a year later you still couldn’t tell me you hadn’t actually resigned?” She probed, “How’s that supposed to make me feel? I’ve been walking around like some sort of idiot thinking that you’re gone for good.”

You nodded and nudged her shoulder with yours, deciding to ignore the ‘gone for good’ comment and focus on everything else, “Well, hey, let’s make a deal. After all this is over, we’ll meet up at your tombstone and you can yell at me all you like for keeping you in the dark, deal?”

Emily snorted and you felt the tension lift, “Okay, point taken.” she chuckled. You hummed your agreement and you lapsed back into comfortable silence before Emily continued, “But hey, the desk thing worked out great. You and Spencer seem to be getting along again.”

You felt yourself flush with embarrassment, giving Emily the ammunition she needed to start teasing you mercilessly. It was nice, and familiar and it made you feel grounded in a way you didn’t realize you were missing before.

“You’re so predictable,” she laughed, “making sad puppy dog eyes at each other from across the room all day.”

You shoved her over, which she responded to with an indignant yelp.

“Yeah well, unfortunately we’ve got more to worry about than my abysmal love life,” you reminded Emily, “so will you please come back downstairs with me?”

You stood and extended your hand, which Emily took with a soft smile, letting you pull her to her feet.

“Okay, agent Y/L/N, but only because I’m hungry and I don’t want JJ to eat my cupcake.”

“Mmhmm,” you agreed sarcastically, threading your fingers together as Emily tucked the well worn photo back into her pants pocket.

She must’ve brought it with her from home, you realized with a start. She’d dragged that photo with her all this time.

It made your heart swell and you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Hey, Prentiss?”

“Yeah, Y/L/N?”

“It’s still you and me, you know? You’re still stuck with me.”

She stopped, a soft smile creeping onto her face as her dark eyes softened. For a moment you just looked at one another, really seeing the person in front of you for the first time in a year. Then she squeezed your hand and you kept moving.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that, you sap.”

———————————

The rest of the weekend was as close to bliss as Spencer could imagine while working a potentially catastrophic stalker case. He didn’t know what had happened while you were upstairs talking to Emily, it wasn’t his place, but he knew that you looked happy when you came back down. Emily looked happy too and, when she took a seat beside him, she shot him a knowing wink, which made him blush.

After that, the team was back. Morgan had confirmed with the M.E that the newest victim hadn’t been drugged, and he had indeed been tortured before he was killed. He’d also confirmed that the contents of the victim’s stomach was another grizzly message from the killer; tandoori chicken and sparkling wine, the exact meal you always ordered at the little restaurant you went to after a long case. Everyone had gotten eerily quiet when that came out. But you moved on, going through case files and reports together in the hopes of coming across some common name. It was a fairly thankless task. The only plus side was how much time Spencer got to spend with you, reading files, pouring coffee, just talking in the garden during lunch. Spencer was giddy with it, and Emily noticed.

“Real subtle, Lover Boy,” she teased on Sunday night, as Spencer watched you disappear back into the house for a drink.

He flushed and looked away, “What-uh-I don’t know what you mean.”

Emily rolled her eyes but smiled fondly, collapsing into the outdoor couch next to Spencer, “Sure.”

Just then you’d walked back out, and Emily let the matter drop for the time being. By the time Monday morning rolled in, Spencer finally felt like they had a handle on things. The picture was still murky and undefined, but now they could at least grasp its edges and make out its overall shape. The team had a long way to go, but it was something, and they’d managed to get by with less in the past. Coming in separately had been Hotch’s idea. It was likely that the UnSub was watching the team and coming in together would tip him off to the fact that work was being done outside of the office. Secrecy was their biggest weapon right now, Hotch had reminded them, secrecy and surprise. The UnSub couldn’t know what they knew. Not now, not ever. It was essential to the investigation.

Spencer remembered looking over at you when Hotch said that. He remembered the way you’d looked, the nerves and anger bubbling underneath your calm demeanor, and the way that his resolve had hardened.

“So what have we got?” Morgan had asked, “Officially, I mean.”

Hotch pressed his lips together, “White male, late twenties to mid thirties,” he’d explained, “try and float the idea that we’re looking into an ex boyfriend from high school or college. Anything we can do to throw him off.”

Spencer repeated it to himself like a mantra as he walked through the FBI building and stepped onto the elevator, bound for the sixth floor. As more agents piled in, the hairs on the back of Spencer’s neck stood up and his anxiety spiked. Is it you? A voice in his head whispered as he glanced at the dark haired man from Sex Crimes. Or you? He wondered, as a sandy haired agent with a long scar met his eye. Is it any of you? The doors finally opened on his floor and Spencer practically leapt out, forcing himself not to look back and keep his pace as normal as possible as he pushed open the doors to the BAU.

Spencer was the last to arrive, just as planned and, because of that, you’d already taken your space at his desk. The sight of you looking totally at home surrounded by his books and files made Spencer unreasonably happy and his nerves settled. Or at least, they did until he noticed the particularly devilish look in Emily’s eye, and the lack of a second chair at his desk.

“Emily, where’s my chair?” He asked.

She shrugged, “How should I know?”

You looked up at the noise and smiled at Spencer, making his heart leap into his throat.

“Sorry, Spence, there was only one when I arrived. I looked all over the office but the other one seems to have just vanished,” you explained, pushing yourself away from the desk, “you take this one, I’ll stand.”

Spencer sighed, “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N, sit down. I’m fine with standing.”

“No, Spencer. I’m already taking up half your desk space. I’m not stealing your chair as well. Sit down.” You frowned.

“Y/N-“

“Spencer.”

“Or,” Emily interjected, with faux innocence, “you could just share the chair.”

You both froze, staring at Emily like she’d just grown a second head.

“Come again?” You asked.

“The chair,” she repeated, resting her chin on her hand, “you could just share it. Instead of arguing and wasting valuable time.” She shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “Just a thought.”

If looks could kill, Emily Prentiss would be dead. Spencer was considering pouring a bottle of water over her head when he caught your eye and blushed bright red. He hated how easy it was for you to undo him, how quickly he became completely obvious about his feelings towards you.

“We-we can’t share,” you stuttered.

“Why not?” Emily asked.

“Because!” You protested, “Spence is a germaphobe. He’d be uncomfortable sharing with me.”

“I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable,” he said without thinking, “not with you.”

You paused, surveilling him with a kind of softness in your eye that made his stomach all fluttery and weak. Emily watched the exchange with amusement, but didn’t interrupt, just waiting to see what happened as you and Spencer sized one another up.

��Okay then,” you agreed, “let’s...share. Somehow.”

Spencer fiddled with the strap of his satchel, but breathed an inward sigh of relief as the tension passed. The office chair Emily had left you with was a big one, and Spencer didn’t exactly take up a lot of space, but it was still tight. There was no getting away from casual touches, the pressure of your leg against his, the smell of your perfume clinging to your hair when it brushed by him, the low roll of your voice as you hummed along with the song in your head. Almost all of his senses were suddenly filled with you instead of empty space. The whole thing made his brain short-circuit. Maybe he hadn’t thought this completely through. As you read through a case file, Spencer caught Emily’s eye across the desk and mouthed ‘I hate you’ at her while you weren’t looking.

“You’re welcome,” she mouthed back, shooting him a wink as she turned back to her laptop.

You shifted in your seat, sending another rush of scent through Spencer’s nose.

“Is that-” he started, “are you wearing a different perfume than normal?”

You met his eye, a little confused, but played along, “It’s new, yeah. I bought it just over a week ago but it hasn’t been warm enough to wear it, why?”

“I’ve smelled it somewhere before,” he explained, riffling through the evidence box he kept on his desk until he found the right bag. He was acutely aware of your eyes on him as he sliced through the seal, reached in with a glove between his fingers and pulled out the letter that had been left at your apartment. He inhaled, filling his nose with the familiar scent, and his stomach dropped, “I knew it. Here, smell.”

You followed his lead and Spencer watched your eyes widen with horror when you confirmed his theory, “Oh my god, he scented the paper.”

“With a perfume you hadn’t even worn yet.” he continued.

“Which means he had to have known that I’d bought it, and that I’d intended to start wearing it soon,” you followed, “which means he must have been following me that day.”

“And if he was, there’s a chance one of the stores has him on camera. Do you remember when and where you bought it?”

“I do.”

“Get that information to Garcia, we’ll have to talk to the store owners before they erase the tapes, and then she can track your movements and see if anyone’s a little too close for comfort.” he said.

Your eyes lit up with that intelligent sparkle that Spencer had always loved, the one you got in the moments when a case finally started to seem solvable.

“Spencer Reid, you are the key to everything, aren’t you?” you teased.

He opened his mouth to respond, his cheeks already flushing bright red, when Hotch’s door opened and their team leader stepped out, a stony expression on his face.

“Alright everybody,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the bullpen, “briefing room now please. We’ve got a case.”

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