#drawing side profiles are hard but I think I did an alright job here

[rozahline]

How Groovy!

Redraw of this:

#bro im so embarrassed rn this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever drawn #HOWEVER… #we were lacking some discount shaphne here #had to fix that #my art #fan art #fanart #the funky phantom #hanna barbera #my ocs #skip gilroy #monica #Mona #monica o’hare #oc x canon #drawing side profiles are hard but I think I did an alright job here #I was gonna do more redraws but I didn’t want to draw anymore side profiles #bro I was going insane #okay byeeee

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 16-20

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 10k

chapter 16

It was 7 am when they got the call. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep that night, Spencer was adamant that laying on the left side helps maximize blood flow. Meaning she faced the wall all night with him happily cuddled into her back. She hated it.

Between peeing 100 times a day and the constant heartburn, she couldn’t really pick the worst part about creating a human.

It fuckin’ sucked and no one thought to warn her.

She dragged herself out of bed, trying her best to do her morning routine with only one eye open. Spencer, on the other hand, seemed to bounce out of bed like he slept 12 hours. Dancing around the kitchen as he poured his coffee and took a smoothie out of the fridge for Y/N.

He fed the cat, changed the litter and even took out the garbage by the time she pulled herself from the bathroom and to her closet.

Her jeans didn’t fit, she let herself take a minute to cry out of frustration in the closet before she looked for anything presentable. The only pants she could get into were a pair of leggings, and at that point, she didn’t care anymore. She was probably going to stay back with Penelope anyway.

She threw on an FBI sweater to hide her bump from the rest of her co-workers, grabbed the rest of her shit and followed Spencer to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and immediately closing her eyes again.

“Wake me up when we’re at Quantico,” she told him. Leaning against the window, ignoring the world.

Maternity parking was the only bonus, she only had to walk 4 feet from her car to the elevator. She felt lazy, but she was allowed to.

“Hopefully,” Spencer finally spoke to her as they entered the elevator. “At the end of this week, your energy should return as your placenta is done developing. You’re the most tired right now because your organs are working 3 times harder than they’re used to.”

“I’m tired because I had nothing to cuddle with all night, but thanks for the insight,” she tried her best to be cheery.

The door dinged, opening to the rest of the team standing in the entryway. “What’s up?” Y/N asked them.

“Hotch got a call, we’ve got a weird one coming in, he’s in his office talking to someone right now,” Morgan said. He looked just as tired as Y/N.

“Are we going in?” She asked, walking past them and towards the bullpen.

She rushed through the room and waddled up the stairs, searching for a chair before she actually passed out. Everyone followed her soon after, patting her back as they walked around the table to their seats.

“Over the past few months 6 feet have washed up on different beaches along the coast of Maine,” Penelope started explaining the case while Hotch was still on the phone in his office.

“6 feet belonging to 6 different people, all incredibly hard to identify. Interpol, Europol, the RCMP and the FBI have all been in communication with each other as no one knows where the feet washed in from. International Water laws prohibit just one of us from taking jurisdiction until we identify the nationality of the victims.”

“How are we going to Identify the feet?” Prentiss asked.

“We’re currently running the DNA against missing persons along the east coast as well as anyone who recently travelled to North America by boat, so far we don’t have any matches. We do know all 6 feet are white so hopefully, hopefully,” Garcia repeated for extra magic help, “this isn’t a refugee transport gone wrong.”

“We’ve been seeing an increase of boating accidents from Syrian refugees recently,” Spencer added. “The wars in the middle east are continuing to push people from their homes in mass numbers, meaning a lot of the boats are overpacked and capsize mid extraction.”

“So we’re probably looking at someone from North America who is using their own boat to sail out and release victims,” Y/N added. “Do we have the ME reports on the 6 feet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Garcia said, flipping through papers and handing them to her.

She read it over carefully, trying to see through her new blurred vision. Another wonderful pregnancy symptom. “Normally when feet wash up on shore, they’re in shoes. If a body is lost in a boating accident or drowning, the rubber soles will always want to float to the surface. When a body is decaying in water long enough the bones will separate, and when the ankle bone goes, the feet float to the surface,” Y/N explained.

“How do you just know that?” Rossi asked.

“In Nevada, we had a lot of drownings in a man-made lake, people would get stuck at the bottom on tree roots. And every year a few feet would wash up,” she added. “I only explained that because it says in the ME report that the feet were cut with a sharp blade, all clean cuts with no shoes or socks. So someone is cutting these bodies up and bringing them out to sea, probably to use as bait for a big catch.”

“It’s weird to me that the feet are the only parts washing up?” JJ’s face was absolutely puzzled as she flipped through the files.

“Not really,” Y/N argued, “I’m more concerned with why he’d even cut the feet, to begin with. With most shark attacks they go for full limbs, if I was the unsub and I was cutting the body up for bait, I wouldn’t make the pieces so small. There isn’t enough blood or flesh on feet to entice a large fish or shark to take it.”

Rossi was tapping his fingers against the table, “Do you think he wants us to find the feet?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good.”

Then, Hotch finally walked in. “Which 3 of you want to travel to Maine to take a look at all the findings?” Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi raised their hands, “alright, meet me on the runway in 20. The rest of you, find a way to identify the feet.”

—

She sat at her desk most of the morning, munching on a bag of animal crackers to keep her nausea at bay. JJ brought her a cold ginger ale around 11, rubbing her back for a bit while she flipped through files.

She had a doctor’s appointment during lunch that day, so she headed downtown to give blood in the hour she was permitted. Knowing that she could be late and no one would really care.

She waited in Dr. Korrapati’s room patiently, looking at her arm as she rested it on the table. Her veins were more prominent now than they had ever been in her life. JJ insured her that they would go back down but it did make her a little self-conscious.

“Hey mama,” Dr. Korrapati cheered as she walked into the room. “How are we feeling?”

“Good, tired but good.”

“Work kicking your butt?” She asked as she prepped her arm for the blood draw. “Or just the baby?”

“Having a hard time finding a comfortable sleeping position, I’m probably going to get one of those long pillow things to help,” she rambled to take her mind off what was going on with her arm.

For someone who looked at dead bodies as her job, seeing her own blood freaked her out. Dr. Korrapati noticed she was a little stressed, “how about when I’m done here we take a look at your little person?”

That piqued her interest, she sat completely still and looked away as the nicest doctor she could’ve asked for, got the test over and done with, in record-breaking time.

“Do you have any other symptoms that are bothering you?” She asked as she wrote the exact tests down in her paperwork.

“Yeah,” she struggled with the sleeve of her shirt as she tucked her arm back in. “The nausea is driving me nuts, I’m living on animal crackers and ginger ale.”

“If you eat small meals every few hours it should settle it out,” she explained. “But if it is really bothering you we can give you some anti-nausea medication.”

“I tried that, everyone keeps bringing me snacks and trying to take care of me but I don’t want anything because I’m so tired,” she ranted as she climbed onto the exam table.

“Have you tried sleeping on the other side of the bed?” She asked.

“no, why?”

Dr. Korrapati laughed, “you sleep on the left side of the bed right?”

“Yeah?” She questioned, wondering how an OB could profile so well.

“So I'm assuming your smart and overprotective boyfriend has advised you to lay on your left side like he told JJ?” She smiled. “And because you sleep on the left side of the bed already, that means you’re not cuddled into him. He’s the big spoon now and you hate it.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head, “oh my god?”

They laughed at the fact it was so obvious and she never clued in. “It happens all the time, you’re so in a routine that you don’t realize you can just switch sides and it’ll work.”

“You’re so smart!”

“Ready to hear and see this baby of yours?” She asked, waiting for Y/N to raise her shirt and lower her leggings to expose her lower stomach.

“Can we?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “you’re in week 9, so you’re exiting the embryo stage and moving towards the fetal stage. We’ll be able to see the fetus and hear the heartbeat.”

“Can I record it for Spencer?” She asked, not wanting him to miss it.

“I’ll do you one better and put it on a disk for you.”

Just like that, she was smothering her stomach in warm jelly. Spreading it around with the ultrasound wand before she began to search for them. Pressing in slightly on her right side, she heard her own heartbeat whooshing. The closer she got to the centre, the more they heard the second.

Her baby’s heartbeat was strong. She saw them on the monitor, they had changed from being a jellybean to actually looking like a person. 4 strong limbs were stretching and moving, growing faster than she thought possible.

“That’s insane?” She was in such awe of it, “when will I feel the kicking and stuff?”

“In a few more months, they’re only the size of a green olive. You’ll probably feel it around Christmas?” She guessed. “You’ll be 16 weeks around then.”

“Wow okay,” she was just astounded by the magic of growing a child, she felt like absolute shit but it all made sense at that moment. In just a week, muscles and limbs formed and her baby grew the ability to self-soothe in the womb. Growing 10 fingers and toes that they already knew how to put in their mouth.

She cleaned the gel off Y/N’s stomach and began exporting the files for her. “So, I will call you when the results are in, and I can just email you guys a copy and go over it with you on the phone when you’re free? I know your job is unpredictable?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. We’re working on an international case right now so for all I know I’ll be in Ireland next week,” She laughed.

“Of course, take care of yourself make sure you’re taking all the vitamins and having 8 cups of clear fluids a day, you have to stay hydrated.” Dr. Korrapati handed her the disk in a sleeve as well as her contact card.

“Yes ma’am, I can’t wait to hear from you,” she smiled before leaving the office.

—

Y/N walked back into the BAU around 1:15, wandering down the hall to Penelope’s office to get a rundown of what she missed.

Spencer and JJ had the same idea, all turning towards the door as Y/N walked in, “hey.”

“How was it?” Spencer asked softly, beckoning her to his lap.

She sat down on him softly, “I got a DVD copy of the ultrasound.” She waved the disk around. “But, we can’t watch it until I get a rundown on what we know so far.”

“I hate how professional you are sometimes,” Penelope huffed. “Luckily, it is very important.”

“We matched a tattoo on one of the feet to a missing person’s case in Nova Scotia. So we focused our efforts on missing person’s cases who fit the same features and backgrounds as her,” JJ explained.

“Okay cool, who was she?”

“Andrea Carlton, 18. She was hitchhiking, apparently wanting to run away to meet her boyfriend in Newfoundland. I traced her transactions before she disappeared and it looks like she bought a ferry ticket, however, there are no reports of her ever getting on it,” Penelope added. “So I’ve looked into other people from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, who went missing hitchhiking or after booking a ferry ticket.”

“Smart, how many matches did we get?”

“5,” She laughed.

“You’re kidding?”

They all shook their heads, “nope. And we were able to match all the feet to them.”

Y/N handed the ultrasound video over to Penelope. “Your reward.”

She snatched it from her hands so fast, taking it out of the packaging and shoving it in her CD port. Loading the file within seconds.

She watched Spencer’s face the whole time. Already having seen the footage herself, knowing the real show would be his reaction.

He was so mesmerized, his eyes blown up in awe as tears welled. His grip on her leg was more intense, he was squeezing along to the beat of the baby’s heart, absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief, that was his baby in there.

The phone rang before they could really talk about it, Hotch requesting the team hop on a plane and meet them in Nova Scotia. The RCMP and the FBI have taken sole jurisdiction over the case.

Y/N was able to convince him that it would be best if they get some sleep before they go. He agreed, telling them he expected to see them in Canada at 10 am sharp.

“Before we go home tonight can you cross-reference freelance charter boats or fishermen in the area the day each victim missed a ferry? Someone desperate to get a ride might be willing to hop in a boat with anyone going where they are,” Y/N suggested to Garcia.

“I’ll run it in the background, you two go home and get some rest so my god-baby can get big and strong!” She hugged her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice, practically running to their car. She let out the deepest sigh ever once she had her seatbelt on, so excited to go home.

Spencer drove them home, getting used to it as she got more pregnant. Soon she’d be too big to drive at all let alone stay awake the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as they cleared the security check.

“Good, Dr. Korrapati is going to email us the results when they’re in and go over them with us on the phone. I told her we’d probably end up going out of the country soon,” Y/N recalled the day.

“The ultrasound was so cool,” he gushed.

“Yeah,” She smiled. Reaching to hold his hand on the centre console. “She also suggested we switch sides of the bed so that we can still cuddle while I’m on my left side.”

“She’s a genius.”

“that’s what I said!” She laughed, “literally how dumb are we?”

“187 till I become a dad and then I’m an idiot,” he smiled back at her quickly. “I’m glad you had a good day. Now we can go eat and get a full night’s rest.”

She let out another deep breath, “I can’t wait to cuddle.”

—

Garcia was waiting for them at the elevator the next morning. “Patrick Timmins.”

“Who?” Y/N asked, fully awake and ready to go, just confused by the ambush.

“I ran the perimeters that you asked for and I found a freelance fisherman slash charter service run by a guy named Patrick Timmins,” Garcia explained. “The townspeople call him Patty Tims, they think he’s fine and lovely according to his Yelp page but his criminal record tells a different story.”

“Really? I thought that was such a long shot!” Y/N was cheery from the extra sleep she got with Dr. Korrapati’s advice.

“The plane is ready when you guys are, I have all the updated info in this as well as some snacks for the plane,” she handed Spencer a cloth bag.

“What would I do without you? My pretty penny,” she kissed her friend on the cheek.

“If it means I get some sugar from you, I’ll do anything,” Garcia flirted with her in the absence of Morgan. “Go get on your plane, I will see you when you return my loves.”

They landed in Nova Scotia around 10 am like Hotch had requested. Bypassing customs and driving directly to the RCMP headquarters. They needed to come up with a plan, they had no idea how to find a man who travels by boat and lives at sea.

“We could always send undercover’s out in the areas he’s picked up before, have them dress as hitchhikers, miss the ferries and wait and see who tries to pick you up. Everyone will have a team watching and police boats on standby?” Morgan was theorizing as Spencer, Y/N and JJ walked in.

“We have report’s that he’s in the bay, if we’re going to do this we need to do it now,” An RCMP officer she hadn’t met yet announced to the room. “Who here is comfortable posing as a vic?”

JJ raised her hand, “get me some dirty clothes and I can be ready in 5.”

They raided the lost and found, they filled a backpack with random things and tried their best to dirty her fingernails and hair. She looked like she had been travelling without a proper place to stay for a while.

They managed to hide a wire on her, prepping what she was going to say if she was in danger and they needed to move in. Hiding a gun and a knife in her socks in case she needed them later.

They drove her down to the bay dropping her off 1 kilometre away, letting her walk into town while they parked closer to watch with binoculars. They planned it for her to arrive as the ferry pulled out of the bay.

She ran down the dock, trying to catch the ferry. Putting on the best performance of: “fuck, I missed the boat!” That they had ever seen.

“She’s going to win an Oscar,” Morgan whispered in the back of the surveillance van, trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” They heard over the wire, trying to identify the source of the voice. The man was standing on his boat, hanging over the edge to get JJ’s attention.

“I missed the ferry, do you know when it’ll be back?” She played dumb. “I promised my mom I’d be back tonight and now I won’t be.”

“I can give you a ride, for a price,” the man suggested. “Names, Patty Tims.”

Hotch turned around from the front seat and motioned for Y/N and Morgan to head out quietly without making a scene. Listening in their headsets as JJ replied. “How much?”

They hid around the corner of the ticket booth, watching as the undercover officers walked around the civilians.

“Just a simple photo, I like to put a face to the stories I run across. Come on up,” he motioned for her to get on the boat.

She walked closer to him, “I don’t know sir, I should probably wait for the ferry.” She smiled.

“No,” he ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw, reaching for her.

She grabbed his arm and flipped him, getting into the boat and pushing him to the ground. She cuffed him by the time Morgan and Y/N could board. “What the fuck is this?” He struggled in her grasp.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 6 people,” JJ replied, about to tell him his rights.

“Only 6?” He laughed.

JJ shoved him into the floor harder, reading him his rights before lifting him to his feet and shoving him off the boat and into RCMP custody.

Y/N lifted her hand up to high five JJ, pulling her into a half hug as they walked back to the surveillance van.

She never had a sister before, JJ was probably the only woman in her life that she felt this close to. It was mostly to do with the fact she’s always been so wonderful to Spencer. She helped him feel loved before Y/N, and that was important to her.

“Can we search the boat? Or are we still waiting on the warrant?” Y/N just wanted to check with Hotch before she barged onto the boat. Not wanting to jeopardize what they’re allowed to enter into evidence.

“We got it, you can start looking,” Hotch said, handing her a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags.

JJ went with her. They walked in together, noticing that he wasn’t lying about wanting a photo to go with the story. Below the deck, the entire wall was filled with Polaroids of terrified people moments before their deaths.

They bagged them all into evidence, dreading having to put them all into the system and match them to missing person’s reports. Delivering the news that someone’s loved one was gone for good was never fun.

Telling 58 families that their loved one was dead was a nightmare.

chapter 17

She’s a little confused when she wakes up to the sound of geese honking. Rolling away from Spencer’s embrace and immediately being blinded by the sunlight in the room. She sat up in a small panic.

She had forgotten that they stayed the night at the new house.

The large windows in the bedroom faced the water. She could see the sun’s reflection on the lake as it stretched over the house from the east. It was absolutely stunning. She could get used to waking up early with a screaming baby if this was the view.

Then she remembered it was the day they got their test results, she bounced a little as she reached for her phone to check her messages.

“Morning bunny,” Spencer’s groggy morning voice startled her a little.

“Bunny?” She questioned, never hearing him call her any form of nickname before.

He reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly, resting his head in her lap. “Have you ever noticed you hop a little bit when you get excited?”

“Yeah, it’s called Asperger’s,” she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s honestly better than bugs bunny though, just don’t throw carrots at me okay?” She laughed to herself as she recalled the childhood trauma.

It was a little funny, looking back now.

“Never, you’re my bunny. I love my bunny.”

He was so soft in the mornings. Snuggling in against her skin as he slowly woke up. He stretched and yawned a bit, making the cutest little sounds as he did so.

She kept her fingers in his hair, twirling the ends every once and a while. Mostly running her nails along his scalp, soothing that big beautiful brain of his that she loved so much.

“We find out what the sex is today,” she reminded him.

He lifted up her shirt to expose her belly. Kissing the skin as she laid back against the pillows.

“What’s going on in there today?” She asked softly.

“They’re the size of a prune,” he mused. “speaking of, as you enter the fetus stage this week you’re going to get constipated.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “thanks that’s exactly what I wanted to know!”

“Right now the fetal development is focusing primarily on the bones, tummy and teeth,” he explained with the largest smile on his face.

“There we go.”

He hovered over her, brushing the hair from her face so he could look at her, “You look so beautiful right now.”

He said that as if he wasn’t blocking the sun from her view, perfectly casting a halo glow around him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his body softly against her’s. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. Covering her face and neck with small pecks, making her laugh as he covered her body in kisses.

The phone rang on Spencer’s night table causing him to press his forehead against her hip, letting out a deep sigh. Y/N reached over and picked it up. “Doctor Spencer Reid’s phone,” she answered. “He can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Funny,” Penelope replied.

“We have a case,” Morgan added.

“What time do we need to be on the plane by?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s 7:46 now, so you’ve got an hour, tops?” Penelope guessed, “why?”

“I said he was busy. I’ll see you later.” She hung up.

“You did not just do that?” He looked absolutely horrified, his whole face turning pink.

“They could either think you got some, or you could actually get some?” She teased. “We have an hour.”

—

“All 3 Vic’s had been strangled and raped before they were wrapped in plastic and released into the river,” Garcia explained to the team over the laptop as they travelled through the sky. “Washing away all of the unsub’s DNA, however, they did find carpet fragments under the victim’s finger-“

“Like the ’84 Oklahoma Child Murders,” Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Garcia asked.

“Oklahoma 1981 to 1984. Local black children between the age of approximately 6 and 17 were being abducted, raped and murdered. Their bodies were mostly discovered in wooded areas and along the edges of the river, never submerged. The BAU worked the case, only ever being able to solve the last 2 murders before the Oklahoma governor, I think, kicked you off the case, right? They cared more about the money going towards the investigation than the black children going missing,” She explained.

“Gideon and I tried,” Rossi said. Still very bothered by the ending. “We wanted to catch the guy, the last 2 murders were so different from the others and yet the local cops considered it the same guy. Much like this new unsub, he raped young men before strangling them and dropping them in the river. All the way down to the carpet fibres.”

“It ended up being a local man named Oscar Pope, they caught him dumping an older male victim at a police checkpoint. They matched carpet fibres at his house to the 2 rivers Vic’s, but none of the children,” Prentiss cut in. “This has to be a copycat right?”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N added. “The BAU was working the angle that a local boy who knew the majority of the victims was in on it. Um, Daryl Livingston, he was in foster care at the time. He was the 7th boy to go missing and then every one of his friends was found dead after that. However, his body was never found. They suspected that he formed a bond with his captor and offered to bring him, other boys, if he let him live.”

“Any chance that this unsub could be the same kid, using Pope’s tactic to get our attention back on him?” Morgan asked.

“I was about to say that too,” JJ cut in. “they might’ve even been a team back then as well. That would explain why the murders stopped when Pope was caught but they still never found that boy.”

“That’s possible. They concluded that the last victim Pope dropped into the river was a long-time, secret boyfriend of his who found out what he was doing to the children. His MO changed when he didn’t want people to tie the murders together,” Spencer provided the extra information. “Only backfiring when local cops patrolling the river heard a splash.”

“Garcia, can you see if any of the Vic’s have any relation, contact or even geographical coincidences with the original murders?” Rossi asked. “If this is a victim continuing Pope’s work we need to find out who knew him.”

“Sir, Oscar Pope is still alive in a local correctional facility,” Garcia added. “I’m going to run background checks on all contact he’s had in his entirety at the prison, it might take a while but I’ll get it.”

“Garcia, I can go to the facility and just read everything they have there. It might not be all digital yet,” Reid offered.

“Good idea, take Y/N with you. You two bounce ideas off each other better than the rest of us,” Hotch agreed. “Morgan and Rossi join the search teams at the rivers. JJ and Prentiss, we’ll set up communication with the locals and go through old case files.”

“Reid’s good at bouncing somethin’ off her, alright,” Morgan teased him. “You were on speaker this morning.”

Spencer turned bright red once again, burying his face into the table as everyone laughed, reaching across the aisle to give Y/N high fives.

—

Being in a prison was always weird for her.

Having to hand in her gun just to read papers in a dusty office made her uncomfortable. She understood the protocol and she knew the guards would keep them safe, but knowing she was near men she helped put away, that scared her slightly.

“I’m not finding anything,” Spencer sighed. “There was a flood 2 years ago that destroyed most of the files near the ground. Including the Pope documents.”

“We can always just go ask him?” Y/N suggested, “he’s in D cell, he’s behind bars. We can just talk to him from the hallway unofficially. Pretend we’re here for someone else. I’ll say I never thought he really did those murders and gain his trust, see what happens.”

“I don’t like it but, I think we have to,” he agreed. Opening the office door for her to lead the way, “after you.”

Spencer felt very protective, she could tell. He was never pushy or controlling with her, but for some reason, he was now manhandling her. Making sure she walked on the inside of the hallways, closer to the brick walls so that no one could get her through the bars.

“So Doctor Reid,” she picked up the conversation as they hit the D block. “I was reading the book you lent me about engineering.”

“Oh,” he tried to play along. “How did you like it?”

“It was good,” she replied while trying to look at each inmate she passed. “I loved page 187— oh my gosh?” She stopped at Pope’s cell.

“You’re Oscar Pope?” She pointed at him.

“and you’re?” The old man questioned her. “A fed?”

“We’re here for something political, nothing to concern yourself with,” she lied, getting closer to the bars, whispering. “I just want you to know I never thought you did all 16 of the child murders back in the day.”

“Thank you,” he was suddenly enthusiastic. “Now why can’t all the fed’s be as smart as you?”

She laughed, tapping his arm through the bars. “How are you doing? Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”

“Phone privileges!” He answered quickly, “the mail’s taking forever and I’ve got people to talk to before I croak in here.”

“I’m sure you do sir,” she smiled at him. “I’ll pull some strings, you have a good day!”

“You too, beautiful!”

Spencer placed his hand on her hip and led her away from the bars, she waved as they walked away.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice stopped her at the end of the hall.

She turned to see a man sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. His orange jumpsuit gathered around his waist as he sat in an undershirt. She glanced over his body, stopping at his face. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Didn’t I say only good boys get to talk to me, Bitch?” She snapped at him.

“Congratulations on the little one.” He replied. Laughing as Spencer placed his hand over her small stomach and led her out of the room, through the big metal doors.

“Keep walking with me,” Spencer insisted. “Or I will turn around and I will kill him.”

She huffed and continued down a narrow hallway with him. “We need to call Hotch.”

“Yeah,” he flipped his phone open and hit the speed dial.

“Reid?” She heard Hotch answer.

“We couldn’t get any of his information from forms, they all had water damage so Y/N and I walked past Pope’s cell and struck up a conversation,” He explained.

“And?”

“She got on his good side, pretending that she could get him a favour while she’s here for political reasons. He said he’s desperate to make a phone call today.”

“I’m on my way, get Garcia to prep paperwork to allow us a meeting with him now,” Hotch instructed, hanging up.

Y/N dialled Garcia on her phone. “How’s it going love birds?”

“Not good,” she replied. “We need you to get the paperwork going to allow us to sit down with Oscar Pope today. And we’re going to need to tear through his cell.”

“Oh, damn okay,” She replied. “Ask him about Cody Kollins.”

“Who?” Spencer asked as his phone rang again. He flipped it open, “we’ve got Garcia here too.” Putting it on speaker.

“Morgan and Rossi just intercepted a man dropping a body in the river,” Hotch confirmed. “I need you to rush that paperwork.”

“Sir, what was the man’s name?” Garcia asked.

“Cody Kollins.”

They sighed at each other, “let’s do this.”

—

Y/N watched him through the mirror. She could see him fidgeting. He was frustrated. He was exhibiting the exact same behaviour as he was when he was caught the first time.

“Every time we one-up him, he breaks down,” she whispered to Spencer. “Even in his interrogation tapes, he was like this. When they found the single patch of carpet left in his closet and were able to match the fibres, he lost it. He likes to play it cool and under control, he wrote the story and he wants us to stick to it.”

“How upset do you think he’d be if we went in there and told him we actually caught the original killer and he’s going to be released pending DNA testing?” Spencer suggested.

She tilted her head, biting her lip as she thought. “I think he’d be violent.”

“Sit here,” he said as he walked into the interview room.

She hated having to just watch. It helped that Pope was cuffed to the table, and the table was drilled into the concrete floor, Spencer wouldn’t get hurt. The guards are right behind the door. It’s fine.

“Sorry for the abrupt interrogation, I promise this isn’t what you think,” Spencer smiled softly. “We have reason to believe that the original killer has returned, the state is running the DNA now.”

Y/N watched as Pope’s right eye started to twitch, his finger on his leg was tapping at an odd rhythm as Spencer talked.

“The second we can prove you had no hand in any of the killing’s we’ll issue a pardon and your discharge papers will be filled out,” Spencer finished his sentence and moved to open the door once more.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he hissed. His voice was completely different than it was when they were speaking in D block.

“Why?” Spencer asked, easily playing the innocent and stupid role.

“You think some crazy-obsessed, fuck toy of mine whose doing half-assed attempts at my signature, is the real killer!!!” Pope spat his confession out. Literally covering the table in spit as he became more feral. Shaking violently.

Spencer walked right out of the room. Y/N watched as Pope smacked the table, tugging violently at the cuffs, scratching himself all up. The guards had to run in and hold him down, shooting a sedative into his neck.

“Jesus,” she whispered. Taking her phone out of her pocket to call Garcia, when she noticed the voicemail notification in the bottom corner. She ignored it, calling her friend instead.

“Hey,” Penelope answered quickly. “So turns out we were right, who would have thought, Cody Kollins is actually Daryl Livingston.”

“We just got a confession from Pope,” Y/N shared her news. “They had to sedate him so we’re going to come back to the station. Wait until tomorrow to interview him again.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Hotch and Morgan are in with Livingston right now,” she updated them. “Make sure to eat something when you get there.”

“Yes mom,” she teased, hanging up and smiling.

Spencer put his hand out in an invitation to hold it. She interlocked their fingers and followed him back to the filing room, gathering their things before exiting the prison.

She sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she and Spencer just sat there and took a few deep breaths. Processing everything the exact same way, quietly and on their own.

She cut the awkward silencer by taking out her phone and playing the voicemail. Putting it on speaker.

“Hi Y/N, this is Doctor Korrapati calling. I’ve emailed you your results. The gender is at the bottom, under the little read more button, in case you wanted it to be a surprise. Call the office and let us know when you’re free to go over the results and we’ll book you in, as far as I can tell everything looks good, so don’t feel the need to rush. Take care!”

Spencer looked over at her with a soft smile on his face, reaching out for her hand once more. Holding her hand with both of his now, “do you want to do this?”

“I’m ready if you are?”

He nodded, watching her contently as she opened her email up, finding the right one and scrolling to the bottom. Her heart fluttered a little as she looked at the read more option.

She took a deep breath and clicked on it.

Chromosomal sex: XY

“Well?” Spencer asked softly.

“I’d really love to tell you,” she bit her lip trying not to laugh, “but I don’t remember what this means?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the screen. He blinked with glossy eyes as he read it, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he cried softly.

It had to be a girl, she knew he wanted one. She convinced herself in that millisecond that it was a girl.

He reached over and placed his hand flat against her belly. “Hi Matthew,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, the two of them happily crying into each other. She wasn’t sure if she was giggling or sobbing, she just knew she was shaking in Spencer’s arms with happiness that this was her little family.

He kissed all over her one cheek as he held her close. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

She pulled back, wiping her tears off on her shirt sleeve, laughing at the serendipity of it all. “I love you too, dad.”

“I have to drive, don’t make me cry again,” he laughed, wiping his own tears before tucking his ever-growing hair behind his ears.

“Let’s go.”

—

Y/N sat beside JJ in the break room of the police station, salad bowl in her lap, shovelling the dressing-covered leaves in her mouth.

They weren’t tasked with anything until Hotch and Morgan attempted to get some info out of the unsub. “Were you crying earlier?” She asked.

“A little,” Y/N smiled at her. “We’re having a boy,” she whispered.

“Oh my god!” JJ whispered back at her, reaching out for her arm and shaking her a little. “I have a feeling your little guy will be bigger than Henry was so he’ll fit into all Henry’s summer stuff when he’s born!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “By the time he grows out of everything I might have a second boy and we can rotate it around again,” she laughed. “This is going to be so fun.”

“Matthew and Henry are going to be best friends,” Y/N smiled.

“Matthew,” she repeated. “That’s a nice name, I like it.”

“My brother’s name is Levi, I thought it was a nice way to keep a family name in my baby’s life, and his middle name is going to be Gideon,” she spoiled it for Spencer.

JJ looked a little emotional, “sorry it’s just so surreal thinking about me and Spencer having kids who are friends.”

Y/N moved her dinner out of the way and hugged her then, holding her tightly. “You better not be pregnant too,” she whispered in her ear. Not wanting to give it away if she was.

JJ just laughed, rocking Y/N back and forth in her embrace, not answering. “Right?” Y/N asked again.

“We’re trying, so who knows,” JJ replied.

“Shut up?” Y/N pulled back and stared into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or not. “Holy shit? Since when?”

“Honestly, I think the night we celebrated Canadian thanksgiving,” she laughed. “You and Spencer got us talking about babies, and you got Henry to sleep through the night, so this is technically your fault.”

“JJ,” Y/N started to cry, “I’m so happy for you.”

“They’ll only be a few months apart, so they’ll be best friends too,” JJ smiled. “This is going to be really fun.”

chapter 18

For Christmas this year, Y/N just wanted to be fully moved into their new home before they had to leave for Vegas. Spencer followed through with the present. Inviting the entire team over for drinks if they promised to stop by Y/N’s apartment and bring a few boxes to the new house. It was basically just free labour.

She spent the night nesting while her friends drank in her kitchen. They understood why she was nervous, she was going to tell her parents about the baby and the engagement, and the house, in 3 days.

It was all going to be a lot.

She was 16 weeks along as of Christmas Eve. Waking up the morning of their flight to a weird twitching sensation in her gut, like butterflies or a muscle twitch but right where the baby would be.

“Spence,” she shook him awake. “Spencer.”

“What’s wrong?” He sat right up, squinting at her as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it?” She worried.

Spencer placed his hand on her belly feeling the slight flitter. “He’s kicking.”

Spencer’s early morning smile was the best, he tackled her back against the pillow and dug his face into the crook of her neck. “That’s my baby in there.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” she laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “We have to go to the airport soon.”

“I know,” he mumbled into her neck.

“If you get up now, we can go get breakfast before we have to board?” She enticed him, “we can get sprinkle donuts for the flight.”

“Okay,” he said as she freed him from her grip. “Are you nervous?”

“I know they’ll be happy, just not ready for them to ask why I didn’t say anything sooner,” She explained. “I’ve been really distant since I got the job, I’m really excited to spend time with them this weekend.”

“Same,” Spencer smiled. “Come on you two.”

They took a 9 am flight one-way to Las Vegas. Y/N slept most of the ride, spending the last 45 minutes just snuggled into Spencer’s shoulder as he watched a documentary on some form of science or math. She couldn’t hear what it was about, all she saw was a man writing out numbers on a chalkboard.

She ran her hand over her belly lightly. There was no way she could walk into her mother’s house in a few minutes and just pretend it wasn’t there. It was there. So were the 5 pounds of baby weight on her hips and the swelling in her face and knuckles.

She was pretty quiet during landing and baggage claim. Thinking in her head what she was going to say to everyone, how she would explain it. She sat in a cab beside Spencer, absentmindedly following him through the airport they’ve both been through at least 20 times.

It was a short trip to her parent’s house. Spencer traced little shapes into her leg with his finger to distract her. A flower, a 4D cube, the words I love you. It was sweet, non verbal comfort was very important to her.

When they arrived, she stayed in the cab to pay while Spencer got their bags out. Taking as long as possible so she could avoid it a little longer.

Biting the bullet, she took a deep breath and walked out into her parent’s front yard. Taking the handle of her suitcase and dragging it up the walkway.

She walked right into her house, her parents and brothers all standing up from the living room and rushing into the entryway. She was wrapped up in 7 hugs within a matter of seconds.

“You look so different,” her mom said as she pulled back from her hug. Holding her arms as she examined her, “what did you do?”

“I got pregnant,” she replied, scrunching her face as she waited for their response.

She could’ve sworn she went deaf at that moment, reaching down to cover her bump as everyone cheered and jumped around her. She was pulled into a group hug before she could process anything. Laughing awkwardly at the whole experience.

“Be quiet, he can hear this week!” She laughed.

“He?” Her father inquired.

She looked back at Spencer, smiling at him. “It’s a boy,” Spencer confirmed.

“Holy shit!” Her brothers cheered, high-fiving each other. “When are you due?” Harrison asked.

“June,” she smiled. “3 days after mom’s birthday, see I do remember it.”

“Come sit,” her mom insisted, pushing everyone out of the way and dragging her to the couch. “Put your feet up, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted. “You’re almost worse than my co-workers.”

“Are they taking good care of you?” Her father asked.

She waited for Spencer to join her on the couch, they had all been so excited about her they forgot he was there. “Yeah. Um, we have a lot to tell you,” She explained, holding Spencer’s hand for comfort.

“I asked Y/N to marry me,” Spencer announced. “I am so in love with her, this baby is a dream come true and I’m very excited to become a part of your family.”

Her mom cried, tossing her hand over her eyes as she sobbed. “Mom,” she was so overwhelmed with everything she started to cry too.

“You’re a wonderful man Spencer,” her father interjected. “It’s an honour to have you.”

Spencer smiled and nodded towards him, silently thanking him for the approval.

“So, it’s kind of insane how it all happened. It wasn’t intended, but we love him so much already,” Y/N glowed as she spoke. “Are we going to tell people the name yet?”

Spencer nodded, “we can.” He smiled down at her with such wonderment, the moment she had been scared of for 16 weeks turning out to be the best time she’s had with her whole family in one room.

“His name is Matthew Gideon Reid,” Y/N smiled. “After my favourite brother, no offence Harry, and Spencer’s mentor.”

Levi was her more emotional brother. He was her best friend growing up. The 5 year age difference gave them the time to grow up separately but still find common interests to bring them together. They were the closest in the family before she moved to Virginia full time it became hard to keep up with him as much.

Now they were both parents, their kids only having a 3 year age difference. Meaning next year there would be 2 little ones at Christmas.

“That’s a lovely name,” Levi smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever, don’t expect our kids to have your name either,” Harrison replied as he held his wife close, pretending he was a little offended.

“We also got a house,” she added to change the topic, “Jason Gideon, he kinda gave us his place in Virginia.”

“You’re kidding me?” Debbie gasped. “For free?”

She laughed, “it’s complicated.”

“I grew up without a father, and Gideon neglected his son for his work at the BAU,” Spencer chimed in. “We bonded, and he wanted his house to be used for good. He specifically asked for us to fill it with love and laughter. We’ve just finished moving into it. You can visit any time!” He panicked and rambled by the end.

“I don’t know if you know this,” her mom tried to joke with them. “But there’s this thing called a phone, where you can call your mother and tell her these things.”

“I wanted to!” she hurried the words out. “But I’m still working in the field, I was weary with who really knew besides the team. It’s my only weakness on the job.”

“I get it,” Debbie smiled. “Honestly, I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N choked back tears. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Pregnant things, y’know.”

—

Visiting hours at the nursing home changed during the holidays. Spencer and Y/N were permitted to enter anytime between 8 am and 10 pm, giving them lots of time to spend the afternoon with Y/N’s parents before visiting her.

They borrowed her dad’s truck, driving to the nursing home with a special gift for Diana. Spencer had spent the last 2 weeks making a scrapbook page about Matthew for her, he knew how much her book meant to her and he wanted to add to it.

Her mom’s co-workers all stared at them as they walked in hand in hand. Her bump on show under the T-Shirt she chose to wear.

Diana was in her room, then walked down the long hallway to her suite. Knocking lightly on the door, waiting for her to greet them.

The door swung open, “Spencer!” She cheered. Hugging him tight in her arms.

“Hi mom,” he held her just as tight. Knowing he was a mama’s boy always made Y/N’s heart flutter.

She pulled back and looked at Y/N, “you look so nice!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Stepping in close to give her a hug as well.

Diana welcomed them into her room, closing the door behind them. Y/N took a seat on the couch while Spencer looked around at the new things she had on display.

“I made you something,” he said softly, taking off his bag and pulling the pressed cardboard out of the protective sleeve. “here.”

She held it in her hands, looking at the ultrasound photo they got a few weeks ago at the anatomy scan. “What is this Spencer?”

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” he explained. Watching her run her fingers over the words on the paper. She was in shock, she had nothing to say. She just looked at the photo.

She quietly walked over to Y/N and sat beside her, “may I?” She asked, holding her hand up.

Y/N leaned back a little, “absolutely.”

Diana placed her hand on the bump lightly. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to really experience this one day,” she whispered. Trying her best not to cry. “Thank you.”

Y/N cried, not realizing how special this must be for them. She was so focused on her family that she forgot that this was going to change Diana’s whole world. She now had 2 boys to love unconditionally.

“His name is Matthew?” Diana asked, running her hand over the bump softly.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “He’s due in June. If you can, you can fly out and stay with us for a little?”

“I’d love to,” Diana replied. “I have enough points for a trip, and I’ve been feeling really good on my medication.”

“If your doctors clear it all, Debbie and you can fly in together,” Spencer confirmed.

“Wow,” Diana smiled like Spencer. Wide thin lips, straight white teeth, big rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. She hoped Matthew inherited it too. “This is my best Christmas yet.”

—

Y/N woke up Christmas morning with Spencer cuddled into her side in her childhood bedroom. She slipped out of his grasp and sat in her windowsill instead.

She pulled her knees to her chest as best as she could now that she was pregnant, looking at the lone swing across the street that swayed in the December morning breeze.

It should be 8 am back at Quantico, her parents must have let them sleep in while they opened presents. She could see Chloe in the front yard trying out her new car. Levi smiled as he pushed her down the road, Lizzie filming the whole thing on her phone.

Her whole life was so different from the last time she really sat on the windowsill in her bedroom. Back then she was about to move to Virginia, graduating college in Nevada and getting into the training program at the academy. Harrison was already there at Fort Meade, she was about to move into his house with his wife for the first semester before settling into DC. Levi and Lizzie had just started dating, Chloe wasn’t even conceived yet. And she had no idea when she’d run into Spencer.

She rubbed her hand over her belly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t wait for the day that she was pushing her own child on that swing across the street. The day she and Spencer tell him about the love story that bubbled between two kids with books who looked at each other for years before they fell in love.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, removing her from the moment she allowed herself to have.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, “they’re happy tears. Go back to sleep.”

“Come cuddle?” He pouted, his big puppy dog eyes drawing her back to the bed.

She snuggled into him, running her fingers against his bare chest as she watched him breathe. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he kissed the top of her head.

“When I was 17, I had my appendix out.” She rolled over and laid back, showing him the 3-inch scar on the right side of her stomach. “It was pretty bad, they said I would have died if my mom waited 15 more minutes to get me to the hospital. They had to fix parts of my stomach and intestines that were eaten by the ruptured appendix bile.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered, running his finger along the scar. “I always thought that was just a scratch.”

She shook her head lightly. “It was December 5th, ’98. They uh,” she took a deep breath before resuming. “They put me on a drug called Dilaudid, they told my mom it was a non-addictive version of morphine and that I’d be fine but, I kinda got addicted to the pill version when they let me out,” she scrunched her face as she told him. Not wanting his opinion of her to change.

“You’re kidding?” He asked, a chuckle fell past his lips as he sat up. “In my second year at the BAU I was kidnapped by a man with dissociative identity disorder and he drugged me.”

“Dilaudid?” She asked, sitting up too and shaking her head in disbelief.

He laughed at how absurd it was, “yeah.”

“I moved to Benadryl for the sleepy and calm effect after I couldn’t get any more refills and didn’t want to admit I had a problem, and weed in college” she added. “but I haven’t even taken a Tylenol in the last 5 years now.”

“I had a small problem with it after everything, but I’m also clean now,” Spencer smiled at her. “Why did you want me to know?”

“Because I don’t want to take any drugs when I deliver the baby, even if I beg for them I don’t want them to give in. I talked to Dr. Korrapati about it but I wanted you to know too,” she explained. “Being in here all night got me thinking about a lot.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tackled her back against the pillows. “I love you,” was all he said.

“I love you too?”

“Seriously,” his voice was so soft and low. “I’ll never stop.”

chapter 19

She woke up to the feeling of hair tickling her face. She swatted at her face to try and get it to stop before opening her eyes. She blinked into the early morning sunlight, only to Spencer looking down at her, his hair long enough to tickle her skin.

“You were snoring,” he whispers down to her. “Also, Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, pulling him down and into a hug. “Thank you.”

Every morning with Spencer for the last 10 months had been special. Something about the warmth of his body against hers, and the sunlight bouncing around their new bedroom made this morning her favourite.

It was so calm on the water. She could see the snow settling on the ice as the sun made it glisten like diamonds. The birds had all but disappeared for the winter, the stillness in the world was lovely. It was like time stopped with Spencer laying in her arms.

“What do you think Penelope has planned at work today?” She asked him softly, playing with his incredibly long hair. It was almost longer than hers now.

“She told me to bring you in after 8.”

“So does that mean you have to distract me for a little while, Doctor Reid?” She teased him.

He pushed himself up, leaning on his arm as he hovered over her. “Any requests?”

She spread her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Have at ‘er,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Spencer just shook his head.

He dipped down to her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her protruding bump. “Good morning to you too little dude,” he whispered against her skin. “Go back to sleep.”

She shoved him lightly, not able to stop herself from smiling, “he is asleep, leave him alone.”

It was the best morning ever.

Every time she thinks that she’s reached peak happiness she discovers another level. It felt like every time he touched her, she wanted to describe it as the best she’s ever felt.

When they finally got dressed and made their way downstairs for the morning, she found it incredibly odd that he wasn’t asking her what she wanted for breakfast, like he did every morning. Very concerned that she had all her meals and then some.

She fed the cat, picking him up and giving him a little snuggle after he finished his breakfast. “You are getting so big and chunky buddy, I might have to change your food timer.”

He meowed at her, sounding really pissed, making her laugh. “Fine but when you can't climb all the stairs in this house it’s your fault.” She placed him back on the ground and watched him wander into the sunlight. Plopping onto the hardwood and stretching out. Just living the life.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, are we stopping for breakfast?” She asked, the second trimester making her hungrier than ever before.

“Penelope has it covered,” He said, placing his hand on her back as he leads her to the foyer.

“Oh this’ll be good,” she smiled, putting her shoes on before arming the alarm and heading outside.

Spencer locked their beautiful green front door, it was colder out than they had expected. He held her hand as she shivered slightly, they walked down the 3 steps together, Spencer not wanting her to fall if it happened to be icy.

Seat heaters were a blessing from god. The car was freezing when they first got in, the heater barely kicked in by the time they reached Quantico. Living 10 minutes away now was really nice.

Up the elevator they went, she was basically bouncing with excitement. “See?” Spencer nudged her with his shoulder. “Bunny.”

“Shut up,” she smiled as the door dinged before opening.

They walked into the bullpen to find it empty. She took off her coat and placed her bag on her desk before slowly walking up the small set of stairs and heading towards the briefing room.

All her co-workers were sitting around the table waiting for her and the boy wonder to arrive. Strawberry cheesecake danishes sat on a tray on the table, a strawberry milkshake in front of Y/N‘s regular spot.

“Happy Birthday!” They cheered as she walked in.

“You guys!?” She was so flattered. Never in her life has she been thrown a party by someone who wasn’t her mother. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” Penelope insisted. Placing a danish on a napkin and putting it on her spot on the table. “I know you can’t have ice coffee right now, I thought a milkshake was the next best thing.”

“I seriously love you, come here,” she pulled Penelope into a hug, kissing her right on the mouth as everyone cheered.

“See that?” Penelope blushed. “Kisses are how I should be thanked around here.”

“HR already hates us,” Hotch made everyone laugh, “don’t push it.”

They all ate breakfast together, sharing stories from their weekend. They decided to spend New Years’ apart, everyone taking time to themselves for the first time ever.

“Where did you go, Prentiss?” Morgan inquired.

“Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Oh my god?” Y/N looked at her with absolute astonishment.

“What’s that?” Morgan and Spencer asked at the same time.

“Nothing.” Emily and Y/N replied in unison. Making a look at each other that screamed: ‘tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.’

Like a saviour, the fax machine in the briefing room turned on, spitting out 15 sheets of paper in a few minutes. Penelope cleaned off the table while Hotch ran everything over.

“Last night a family in Boston had their home burned down with them inside it,” Hotch explained.

“How is that something for us to look into?” Rossi asked.

“Because the unsub broke in and turned the water off and tampered with the gas system, causing CO2 to render them unconscious. He stabbed the father to death in the bed before laying gasoline all over the floors and lighting the house on fire.”

“Damn,” Y/N whispered under her breath. “That is personal.”

“I’d say,” Hotch agreed.

“Who was the family?” JJ asked.

Garcia looked through the sheets of paper spewed across the table. “Thomas Greenway, 61. His wife Alison 43. And 2 children aged 8 and 12.”

“We need to head to Boston,” Hotch announced. “I’ll call about prepping the plane. Y/N you can stay here with Garcia if you’d like, your insight will aid her search greatly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” she smiled at Garcia. “Good luck out there.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

Everyone sighed before standing up. Spencer leaned in and kissed Y/N softly before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home to me safely Doctor Reid.”

He smiled down at her, fixing his shirt before he left with Morgan.

“I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave,” She said softly towards Penelope, making her laugh in the process.

“Come on mama, let’s go to my office,” Garcia said, putting her arm out for Y/N, the two of them skipping down the hallway with their arms linked as the team filled the elevator.

Y/N sat in Garcia’s office and immediately put her feet up, still drinking her milkshake as she flipped through the case files. “Can I suggest possibly the dumbest thing ever?”

She laughed, “shoot.”

“So, homeboy here breaks in and knocks out a family with co2 poisoning, just to stab the father to death and light the house on fire.” She ran it down once more, “What if we just search mothers stabbed before dying in a fire and just see if this is some traumatized kid, at this point that’s what they all end up being.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Garcia said, typing away as she added the parameters. “It’s like you can see the fucking future?”

Y/N threw her head back in a laugh, “did you get something? Seriously?”

“Adele Hollis was found dead in a burning apartment building in Boston in 1978. ME reports say she was already dead from co2 poisoning before she was stabbed 6 times in the chest. The whole apartment complex went up in flames after the unsub doused the bed in gasoline and lit her up.”

“Well fuck,” Y/N replied. “Does she have children?”

“Yes, her son Cameron was at school when it happened. He was 8, he moved in with his step-dad shortly after, they ruled him out and never found the guy,” Garcia added.

Y/N leaned across the desk and dialled Hotch, the plane hadn’t even left yet. “I think I found the unsub?”

“How?” Hotch asked.

“I jokingly asked Garcia to search and see if there are any men whose mothers died in a fire after being stabbed cause we deal with sooo many traumatized kids, and we found one,” she laughed at just how insane it sounded.

“Video in and give us a rundown.” Hotch hung up. Ever the conversationalist.

Garcia and Y/N squeezed into the same frame seeing everyone gathered in the little plane seats. She gave them the basic rundown of her findings, watching them all shake their heads at the fact she solved the case already.

“Have the local PD issue a warrant and bring him in. Can you check and see if he knows the victims?” Hotch asked.

“On it sir,” she smiled, clicking away.

“How did you do that so fast?” Morgan has to ask, “it’s not human.”

She laughed again, “If I’ve learned anything in the last 10 months it’s that traumatized little boys can fuck up a lot of people’s lives.”

“Preach,” Rossi added.

“Um, guys,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Cameron Hollis’s birth father is the father who was stabbed in this case.”

“You’re shitting me?” Y/N couldn’t believe it. “Do they have any kind of relationship?”

“His father is on the birth certificate but it looks like Adele left him when Cameron was 3, after some domestic disputes that had the cops at their door. She was remarried when he was 6, it doesn’t look like they ever really talked,” Garcia explained while continuing to dig.

Y/N watched through the monitor as the team gripped their seats, the plane was taking off now. They would be in Boston with this guy in just a few hours.

“Thanks, Lady Wonder,” Morgan winked at the camera for Y/N before leaning in and turning the monitor off.

She sat back and put her feet up once more. “Best birthday ever.”

—

They had Cameron Hollis in custody with a full confession before 5 pm that day. Everyone was beyond thankful that they would be back home with their families shortly.

Y/N had said goodbye to Penelope shortly after, driving home to have some alone time. Rossi would drive Spencer home, they lived close enough now that they could all carpool if they wanted.

She had never been in their new house all alone before. She took the time to just walk around and admire everything, being thankful that her life ended up like this. Not taking a second of it for granted.

She sat down on her bed finally, taking her phone out and calling JJ.

“Hello bestie,” she answered.

Y/N smiled, “Hey, do you think Will could find a babysitter tonight?”

“Probably, why?”

“Tell him to drop Henry off and head to my place. I’m going to have pizza delivered and you can come here with Spencer when you land,” Y/N offered. “Have a date night with us.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll call Will right now. See you later,” JJ sounded happy. It made her smile.

“See you.” She hung up, laying back against her bed softly.

She changed quickly before heading downstairs, wearing a pair of leggings and an academy t-shirt. She was getting too big for almost everything she owned now.

She placed an order for a few pizzas to arrive at 8:30. Next, making sure she had more beer in the fridge, for the nights when Will wandered over with JJ. They had visited almost every weekend since she and Spencer moved in.

That’s when she saw him.

chapter 20

Previously...

The dream was always the same:

A man would get into their home, he knew their schedule, he knew when she’d be alone.

He’d get in without any trouble and he never made a sound. She wouldn’t even know he was in the room until she felt the cold metal gun press against her face, as shaking hands instructed her to tie her own behind her back.

He’d always use her supplies. Duck tape, shoelaces, scarves. Anything at his disposal that he didn’t have to bring with him. Almost as if he didn’t fully choose her to be his victim until the very last minute.

He assaulted her all for what felt like hours, stopping occasionally to cry in the bathroom or eat a snack in their kitchen. And he always showered at the end. Sometimes, he’d wrap her up in a housecoat, put her sheets in the wash and sincerely advised her to invest in a better lock for the sliding door.

Then he was gone.

Slipping into the night, on his way to become someone else’s nightmare...

There was a man in her yard, he was dressed in all black, with a backpack wrapped around his shoulders and a ski mask on his face.

He couldn’t see her from where she was in the kitchen, but she could see him. She ducked to the floor and crawled towards the stairs, booking it up the steps and grabbing her gun. She made sure it was loaded, grabbing a second clip from her nightstand and tucking it into her pocket. Then she detonated the alarm system from the remote on Spencer’s bedside table.

She crawled into her closet, making herself look like a pile of clothes.

And she waited.

She felt a little insane, she tried to convince herself that it could be anyone from a neighbour to a lost person from the trail. For all she knew, it was someone from the academy lost in the woods.

She tried to calm her breathing, calling Will with her cell phone. “Hey, JJ just filled me in-“

“There is someone in my backyard in all black with a backpack, how fast can you get here?” She panicked in a whisper.

“Fuck, okay, I just dropped Henry off at the sitter. I’ll be right over, stay put and I will call you when I’m there,” his southern accent came out more when he was stressed.

“Okay, thank you,” she hung up and took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds in her house.

She remembered what the house sounded like that morning. The stillness, the quiet peacefulness of her and Spencer in the bed only 12 feet away from where she was now hiding.

She remembered the way the floors creaked as it popped and settled with the heat, how the tree outside would sometimes tap the window, the sound of snow tumbling off their roof. Passing cars on the main road kicking up gravel, the odd bird singing in the cold breeze, her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then she heard the alarm turn off with its overly happy welcome home chime. Only knowing one man would be able to disarm her alarm system without a code, and he was in the air right now.

“Open,” she heard the alarm’s voice as the door opened.

Footsteps travelled along the hardwood floor in wet shoes. She listened to the sound of the wet rubber on hardwood explore the first floor.

There were 2 people in her house, splitting up as one went to the kitchen and one went up the stairs.

She aimed her gun at the doorway, aiming to shoot anyone who walked through the door in the leg. Not wanting to kill anyone who she knew that might’ve gotten in for a different reason, unannounced.

In the rare happenstance that this wasn’t her worst nightmare coming true.

Her hands were shaking as she kept the gun pointed for what felt like hours, just waiting for him to find her. The door handle started to turn slowly, she heard the sound of the old metal grinding ever so slowly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, yet again. The same eyes that haunted her dreams, the eyes every woman she spoke to for 2 years remembered from behind the ski mask.

Fuck Wichita, he was her own personal nightmare. He had been for a while. Those eyes, big and black all the way around, not a single glimpse of colour or life or hope. Every single dream came flooding back as she saw him in her doorway, the same aura of death, destruction, loneliness and despair from all those months ago was now filling the most special place in her home.

He still hadn’t seen her in the closet, looking around the room carefully as she watched him. Waiting for him to get closer, and closer to where she was. Finally peeling back the wooden closet door.

“Surprise, bitch,” She said before aiming higher and shooting him between the eyes, knocking him down.

She stood and stepped out of the closet, “Travis fucking Johnson,” she shook her head as she looked at the man bleeding on her bedroom floor. Taking his pulse to ensure that he was dead.

She couldn’t hear anything for a second, trying her best to zone in on the sound of someone tiptoeing in her kitchen, “WHO ELSE IS IN MY HOUSE?” She screamed.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of a car on the gravel and then a door slamming. She stepped into the hallway, gun pointed, looking over the railing towards the front door.

“Y/N?!” Will yelled. Gun pointed as he entered her house.

“I’ve got one down, I think there’s another in the kitchen,” she replied.

“On it.”

Y/N looked down the hall, none of the upstairs rooms were open, every door exactly how it looked when she ran up the stairs. She headed down the steps when 2 shots were fired.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to see another man on her floor behind the counter, his feet the only thing she could see as he laid there, dead. Will was standing over him, taking his pulse.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

Y/N finally let herself panic, shaking as she tried to catch her breath, pulling out a chair from the counter and sitting down. Her adrenalin was running wild in her bloodstream, she didn’t even know how to speak let alone think about what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Will’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He was right beside her, wrapping his big strong arms around her to try and calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“Who was it?” Is all she asks him.

“I have no idea, who was upstairs?” Will asked.

“Travis Johnson, from my first case with the BAU,” she calmed down a bit, breaking away from the hug to get off the chair.

She walked around the counter island, looking down to find another man she knew, bleeding on her brand new hardwood floors. “Oh my god,” she felt sick at the sight.

He smelled the same, stale and rotten. The same look on his face even as he slipped into eternal damnation. Empty as when he was alive, pure evil down to his core. Dead to match how he felt inside as he did those awful things to undeserving mothers.

The second worst man she’s ever come in contact with.

The Winnemucca Womb Raider.

She backed up into Will, he held her close so she didn’t drop to the floor, helping her back into the chair. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” she felt herself starting to cry. “How? They were both in prison?”

“We need to call the police,” Will said softly before taking his phone out.

“911 what’s your emergency?” She could hear the muffled woman’s voice as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“This is Detective William LaMontagne Jr. Two men just broke into my friend’s home and tried to kill her,” he explained the situation, making her shutter.

She watched as he talked to the woman, suddenly not able to hear anything as her body slipped into shock. She was completely numb. In the last 10 months she hadn’t fired a single shot on the job, and yet on her birthday, the one time she's alone, she has to kill someone in her own home.

The place where she was supposed to feel safe and happy. Where her new life with Spencer and Matthew was supposed to start. They promised Gideon love and laughter, having that dream stripped from them when Pure Evil stepped over the threshold.

It was just like the dream, the last one she had before Spencer wrapped himself around her, calming her down.

This time he wasn’t here, he didn’t even know that this had happened, he wasn’t always going to be there to save her. She pulled herself back into the moment, calming herself like she had all those years before him.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, he knew that.

A man walked into her home, the one time he knew she’d be alone and vulnerable.

That was the only part of the dream that matched.

Unlike her dream, she wasn’t a victim. Not in this house. Not in her space. Not ever.

The sound of the sirens echoed in her ears finally, she turned to the commotion of officers running into her new house. Will walked them through it all, telling them who Y/N was and that this was her home. How she saw a man in her yard and hid before killing him upstairs.

“Ma’am?” A stranger in a uniform tried to get her attention. “Ma’am, can you come with me?”

She nodded, standing up and finding support in the man’s arms. He wrapped her up in a silver blanket before he led her outside and into an ambulance. She had her vitals taken and an oxygen mask placed on her to help her calm down.

“Is the baby okay?” She asked the EMT, pulling the mask off her face so he’d hear her.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress but you need to relax so we can keep it that way.”

Will climbed into the ambulance then, taking her hand in his, “hey doll, are you okay?”

She nodded, “just a little shook up.”

“I called Spencer,” he said softly. “They’re 30 minutes from landing, then him and the team are on their way. No one told the team about the prison break in Oklahoma, they didn’t even think to connect them back to you.”

She sighed, “two cases in 2 different states, where the offenders ended up going to a 3rd state to meet and do time together and bond over the women who put them away. Makes sense.”

“You put them both away?” He asked.

She nodded again. “I basically made it my life goal to get Travis Johnson, he’s the reason I have this job, he’s the reason I’m pregnant right now,” her words trailed off into whispers. “I saw him in November, he congratulated me when he saw the bump.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“The Winnemucca womb raider, he would kill pregnant women by strangling them before removing their wombs,” she looked at him, horrified. “They wanted to kill us...”

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach, she had almost forgotten to worry about him. To even think that she was more than just one person at the moment.

They weren’t after her, they were after the most important thing to her. Her son, her baby boy. Like all the mothers before her, like their own. They wanted her to suffer, for her son to be spared a future worse than death in their opinion.

All the images from the cases came flying back as she blinked faster and faster. Strangled women, removed wombs, thanking God for a second that Spencer was the one to see the recovered organs in his trailer. A sick feeling bubbled in her body, a chill ran deep in her bones.

Then everything went black.

—

The first thing she remembers when she gained consciousness again was that Spencer was furious. She could see him and Hotch in a heated conversation from inside the ambulance, she tried her best to wake up and zone in on what was going on.

It was too dark for her to read their lips, but he was angry.

JJ was sitting beside her now, holding her hand. “Hey, bestie.”

“Did the cat get out?” She doesn’t know why that’s the first thing she asks, “the door was left open, did he get out?” Still in shock, still trying to understand everything.

JJ shushed her, petting her hair as she leaned in close, hugging her softly. “He was in the laundry room, Will said he made sure to find him when you were getting checked out.”

“Good,” she nodded along as she listened. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

JJ let out an awkward laugh, “I can imagine.”

“I’m also starting to fall in love with your husband,” she found her sense of humour then. “He has perfect timing.”

JJ laughed a little harder, causing Spencer’s focus to shift to the ambulance. Y/N watched him run towards it and jump in.

“Y/N, oh my god,” Spencer wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m safe, the baby’s healthy,” she assured him.

He kissed her all over her face, making her giggle when he wouldn’t stop, repeating kisses all over her face, her ears and her neck. She could hear JJ also laughing as she watched with Hotch just outside.

He finally stopped to catch his breath, hugging her again with his face in her neck. “I love you,” she reminded him.

“You love me?” He pulled back, “I love you so fucking much, I am never leaving you alone again.”

“Spencer,” she laughed, “I think I handled it pretty well.”

He huffed and shook his head, “you shouldn’t have had to handle this in the first fucking place! It’s not that fucking hard for someone to call the god damn FBI and say hey two psychopaths that your genius new girl put behind bars, fucking escaped!”

She finally knew what Hotch meant when he said Spencer’s anger scared him. She looked at him like he was a whole different person, “Spence, baby, I know. It’s okay, I’m fine see?”

She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, watching his pupils change size as he focused on her. Love and life behind them, true happiness clouded by horror at the thought of losing the love of his life.

He was what a true man was supposed to be, a real genuine person with love and kindness, and empathy. Her soulmate, her Spencer.

“We can’t control everything, that’s what you told me. We handle what’s in front of us, and we do it well,” she smiled as she reminded him.

Spencer started to cry, pulling her in close. “I can’t lose you.”

She cried at the sound of his voice, his heart shattering as he cried in her arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Terrified on a level she’s never seen in him before.

She rubbed his back as she held him, rocking him lightly as she shushed him absentmindedly. Soothing him as if her life depended on it, it broke her heart to see him this broken about the idea of losing her. She loved him so much it made her heart physically ache in her chest as she held him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, whispering against his hair. “I’ll kill a million men if it means coming home to you.”

He laughed in the middle of his cries, she could feel him smile softly as he sniffled against her shirt. “Promise?” He asked as he pulled back to look at her.

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, his beautiful eyelashes clumped together in the wetness. He was so sweet, she couldn’t help kissing him quickly, “promise.”

—

Hotch insisted they head to the BAU with the rest of the team while he handled the crime scene and the forensic clean-up, knowing on a personal level what it was like to clean Evil’s blood out of your bedroom carpet.

Y/N was sitting in the car waiting to leave when she saw Will coming out of her house with 3 pizzas. “I forgot I ordered those,” she gasped at the sight.

“You should’ve seen the look on the delivery guy’s face,” JJ laughed.

It was really bizarre having a pizza party in Rossi’s office after shooting someone in her home. Everyone was trying to be as chipper as possible to try and take the tension off the situation, but Y/N was pretty quiet.

Morgan got everyone to settle down before closing the office door, sitting close to her and Spencer. “Everyone in this room has either been shot, in danger, held hostage or worse,” he offered her some support.

“If you want to share anything, express any feeling or just tell us to fuck off, you can,” his words were soft, she watched him with soft eyes as he spoke.

“The only thing I can think of is that fate is fucked up,” she replied, the honesty slipping off her tongue like it was made of butter.

“You have the floor,” he insisted that she continue.

“I moved into a tiny apartment, farther away from my job, because I needed somewhere to live, and I found Spencer in the hallway. Spencer led me to you, and you guys helped me find Travis Johnson, my personal nightmare case of 2 years,” she explained like they never knew that. “But it’s so much more than that now.”

“We ran into Travis at the prison in Oklahoma a few months ago,” Spencer added. “He noticed that she was pregnant and congratulated her.”

“But the thing that’s fucking me up the most is that, and sorry TMI,” she warned them before continuing. “but we conceived the baby in Kansas when we caught the VICAP counsellor, only a few towns over from where we arrested Travis. Then we ran into him on a different case in Oklahoma, and he happened to be in the same prison as a man from New Mexico I put away for killing pregnant women. Something about this all lines up so perfectly... I hate that I find it so interesting.”

“That is kind of insane,” Morgan agreed. “I think it just means you and Spencer are being pulled together by something with bigger plans than you realize. And you’re a good shot, so thankfully you have nothing to worry about now.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

She held Spencer’s hand, looking down at the ring on her finger that meant she was his forever. As much as she hated the idea of a man owning a woman, she loved the idea that Spencer was her person forever.

They were tied together in a way no one would understand, she loved him deeper than she ever thought possible.

Everything happened for a reason. Her reason just so happened to be Fate wanting her to spend the rest of her life, Happily with Doctor Spencer Reid.

—

She woke up around noon the next day, Spencer was sitting up beside her reading a book when she finally clued into where she was. They had spent the night at Rossi’s house while the forensic cleanup team handled her kitchen and bedroom.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, stretching against the sheets as she fully woke up.

He put his book down and joined her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her neck softly.

“Good morning,” he replied finally. She loved his voice when he hadn’t spoken yet. His vocal cords yearning to be used.

She smiled against his skin, holding him against her chest as she breathed him in. Her safety, her cosmic soulmate.

Everything just felt better in the world when they were pressed this close to each other. This was how they were meant to be.

“How are you feeling?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

She rolled him onto his back, snuggling into his chest and lifting a leg over him so the baby wasn’t squished. “Good, I’m excited to go back home later.”

“You’re not scared,” his fingers ran through her hair as she felt his breath on her face.

“No,” she shook her head against him. “Yesterday could’ve been a lot worse, but I’m trained to think on my feet and the danger is gone now. I’m never going to let myself be a victim in my own home.”

“I love you,” he reminded her. “And after yesterday-“

“I want to get married soon too,” she cut him off, getting up and sitting on his hips. She ran her hands over his chest as she looked down at his beautiful, still puffy, morning face.

He beamed up at her, “I feel it too, I want to make it official. I want to shout it from the rooftops that the love of my life chose me too.”

She nodded softly, “and we agreed that in April this year we’d go to Vegas, and we’d do it. I think we still should, I just want to plan it a little.”

“Of course,” he agreed, squeezing her thighs in his excitement. “Come here.”

She held his face in her hands as she leaned down, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip as she looked at him ever so softly. “I love you,” she said before kissing him.

His hands wandered over her back, holding her into the kiss. Breathing in deep through his nose, kissing her as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.

Spencer was desperate to love her, and she was desperate to be loved by him.

She broke the kiss to just look at him, moving his hair back and pressing her forehead against his. “The park across the street from my parents house,” she whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to get married there, I want to start the rest of my life in the spot where I first really fell in love with you,” she explained, her lips close enough to him that the words could have stuck to his skin.

“I think I can pull some strings and get us a permit by April,” He smiled against her lips, “what day are we thinking?”

“The 23rd, 1 year exactly,” she said before Spencer pulled her back into another kiss, this time it’s soft and delicate. “Until forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“You need to promise me one thing,” he added. Feeling her nod as she kissed down his neck. “I know you said you’re fine, but the second you’re not I need you to tell me.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back up as she straddled his hips. “You have to do the same, I can’t handle you crying in my arms like that again, it really broke my heart.”

He held his pinky out to her, she smiled as she wrapped her own around his. Both leaning in to kiss the other's knuckle, a small tradition Y/N adored.

—

They were back at their house by 5 pm. Hotch had ensured that everything was completely cleaned and there was 0 evidence that a crime had even taken place on the property. Penelope on the other hand had taken it upon herself to break into their alarm system and reset it for them shortly after everyone left.

They changed the code, closed the door and sighed at the beautiful home that felt a little different now. “I think I want to paint,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Spencer laughed at the suddenness.

“It’s too blah, y’know? I see what they were doing with the whites and beige for all the light. But, I’m thinking green in here to flow with the cabinets in the kitchen,” she walked through the foyer as she imagined the colours that would look good. “Like an olive or forest, maybe even jade. It’ll look nice with the dark wood.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed. “Make it feel more like the old apartment.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. “I miss the clutter and the intimacy of the last place, and I know you miss the look of books everywhere.”

“I’m still alphabetizing them in my office,” he added. “I’d like to paint in there as well, I’ve been looking at antique chairs and couches for my reading.”

“Hotch is going to make us take 2 weeks off again,” Y/N looked at him with excitement. “We can put all our energy into this place now.”

“Let’s make it ours,” He agreed.

“Wanna go to the hardware store and look at paint samples?” She hopped with excitement, grabbing his arm and tugging on him.

He laughed, pulling her into his chest. “Sure, bunny,” he pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he held her. “What about Matthew’s room?”

“Oh, me and Penelope have it all planned, all the stuff is being delivered next month. She kinda went a little nuts,” Y/N laughed.

“He’s going to be one loved little boy,” Spencer chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 3

chapter 1 chapter 2

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A close call has you on the move.

Note: Alright, things are ramping up. As always, mind the warnings and take care of yourselves.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

A third glass of wine helped you sleep better than you had in the last week. You didn’t remember much past the bottom of the glass; only the fear and the way it burned your throat. You didn’t remember falling asleep or even going to your bed. 

Slowly, as if drowning in oil, you woke. One eye opened, then the other. Your head pounded as the grey winter light peeked in. You groaned and a sudden crash made you shoot up in your bed. The duvet fell away from your chest as you listened to the grunting and the footsteps barreling across the floor. You were dizzy as your heart raced.

You kicked out from under the covers and stumbled frantically to the bedroom door. You peered out into the living room, the dark figure at the open door. Bucky braced himself against the frame and swore. He looked as if he would bolt out until his eyes settled on you.

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself straight. He closed the door and locked it firmly. He shook his head and crossed to you.

“I didn’t mean to wake you--”

“What’s going on?” You looked around. The coffee table was overturned, the lamp too, and pillow leaked its innards onto the floor. “What was that? What happened?”

“It’s okay, I think I got him much worse,” Bucky assured you. 

You noticed for the first time the knife in his hand. The same black handle that he holstered on his belt. You blanched as your eyes scaled his torso and the dark blood spread across his grey tee shirt.

“Did you?” You asked as you backed away. “Oh my, that’s a lot of blood.” You touched your stomach, still sensitive from the night before and roused by the sight of red. “Are you okay?”

He looked down and touched along his ribs. He hissed and carefully set down his knife on the arm of the couch. “Shit.” He pulled open the slice in the cotton and chuckled. “Fucker got me good.”

“How can you laugh?” You gasped. “What do you mean-- Was it him? Was he in here?”

“Yeah and so was I,” Bucky raised the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “I took care of him.”

“He got away,” you looked at the door. “He got in! How could he--”

“Well, I assumed it was easier in a carrier’s uniform,” Bucky bunched up his shirt and stemmed the blood with it. His thick arms tensed and his broad chest puffed out. “But… I think I got a decent peek at his face.”

He went to the lamp and pulled it up. You watched him stunned. How could he be so casual? Your eyes fell to a trail of blood that led to the door and was smeared across the side of the coffee table.

“I told you, I got him worse,” Bucky said as he looked at you. “You got some bandages, or something?”

He sat heavily and leaned back as he looked under the tee shirt. You blinked and nodded dumbly. You recalled the video call the night before; the woman’s blood pouring from her throat, bubbling along her lips. You went to the bathroom and searched beneath the sink for the first aid kit you’d never even opened.

You came back out and unclasped the metal box. You set it on the corner of the couch and bent to flip the coffee table. Bucky stopped you. “Leave it. It’s got evidence on it.”

You stood and stared at him as he took the first aid kit and balanced it on his thigh. He stirred around with one hand and pulled out the bottle of alcohol. He pressed down on the tee before removing it and sprayed the gash. You slumped onto the couch and tried not to look. You had never done well with the sight of blood. There was so much, you could smell it even.

“Shit,” he uttered, “I think I’m gonna need some help.”

You looked up again and he pulled out a spool and a packaged needle. You’d never thought you’d need those.

“I can’t-- Blood, it makes me… sick,” you murmured. “I don’t know--”

“Well, I can’t exactly see well enough to do it myself,” he grunted. “Honey, it’s fine. It’s nothing serious but it needs stitching.”

You squinted at the pet name. The more he said it, the more odd it seemed. You weren’t his honey, you were a job. 

You sniffed and neared him. Your hand shook as he ripped open the packet and threaded the needle. You took it from him as he held it out. You stared at the metal point then glanced at him.

“I’ve never…”

“Have you ever sewn? A cross-stitch maybe?” He asked.

“I took home econ in high school but that was… a long time ago,” you swallowed. “What if I make it worse?”

“It’s just like a tear in a pair of pants. That’s all. Don’t think about it. Just--” He gripped the tee shirt tightly, “Do it.”

He lowered the cotton and bared the cut again. Your lashes fluttered and you let out a long breath. You got closer and bent over him. You hesitantly touched the flesh along the cut and pointed the needle along it. You bit down as you poked his skin.

“Come on,” he rasped, “We got a lot more to do.”

You pushed the needle’s nose through his flesh and your stomach flipped. You held your breath as you pulled the threaded through and repeated the action, again and again. His blood stained your fingertips and when you reached the end, he stilled your hand and took the needle from you. He looked down as he knotted the tail and you barely kept from tripping over the coffee table as you retreated.

“Go. Pack a bag,” He pushed himself to his feet as he tossed the thread in the kit and slid the needle back into the plastic. “I’ve gotta make a call. I doubt they’ll let you stay here any longer.”

“Where will I go?” You asked as you rubbed your fingertips, still wet with his blood.

“Somewhere safe. I promise.” He said as he wiped his hands on his tee shirt. He looked around and bent to retrieve his phone from beside the tv stand. “But right now, we don’t have time for all the questions.”

You just nodded as he dialed and retreated to wash your hands. 

As your adrenaline slaked away, your hangover became more apparent. Not only your head, but your entire body ached. Had it been worth fleeting moments of oblivion?

You went to your bedroom and dug around the closet for the wrinkled old duffel bag. It felt hopeless; futile. Even with Bucky there, that monster had almost gotten to you. Was there anywhere he could keep you safe?

You shoved some clothes in the bag and went to the bathroom to grab your toothbrush and other toiletries. You heard Bucky talking and the distant voice buzzing from the speaker.

“We need somewhere more secure. I understand, I didn’t expect it so soon but… well, he knows now. He’s going to be even more desperate…”

You zipped up the duffel and marched out to the living room. You plopped it on the floor and crossed your arms. Bucky hung up as he turned to you, dropping his fingers from the blinds he’d been peeking through.

“You said he would hide for a bit,” you said. “But… why is he doing all this?”

“We’re just going of the BSU assessment. They can be wrong. They can draw up a whole profile but it’s almost impossible to predict what these types do next. We went off similar cases, similar circumstances. But like I said, this isn’t our typical suspect.”

“Uh huh, and yet you won’t tell me how. And he’s dangerous enough to almost get past you--”

“Not even close,” Bucky insisted. “Honey, come on. I do this all the time. You have no idea what the fuck we’re dealing with so stop it with the questions and go get changed. Back up’s on the way.”

You flinched at his tone. You huffed and shook your head. You went back to the bedroom and pulled out some jeans and a long-sleeve sweatshirt. You really didn’t care what you looked like.

When you entered the living room again, Bucky dropped your bag closer to the door. You crossed your arms as he took his hoodie from over the back of the couch and zipped it up over his bare torso. You grabbed your phone from the shelf where it was charging and he was on you in an instant. His hand covered yours, the metal cold and hard.

“You have to leave it,” he said. “We can’t compromise our new position.”

“What? But--”

“What do you think is going on right now? Life as you know it is over. No more phone,” he yanked the cell from your grasp, “No more apartment, no more work.” You grimaced and held up your phone. He squeezed until you heard it crack and it bent in his metal grip. “You got to trust me.”

“What the fuck? You didn’t have to do that.” You stared at your broken phone as he dropped it back on the shelf.

“Honey, you gotta start listening to me. Fuck around and I can’t protect you.”

Your lip twitched. Honey, honey, honey. That wasn’t your name. You shrugged and spun away from him.

“When are we going?” You asked.

“Soon,” Bucky said, “Get your coat, your shoes. I’m just waiting for the call.”

You brushed by him and pulled on your boots, ignoring your heels. You grabbed your jacket and you heard a soft vibe. Bucky reached over your shoulder as he took his own coat and stepped into his own boots. He exhaled as he checked his phone.

“Alright, let’s go. Back door.” He directed as he turned the lock, “Come on.”

He opened the door and grabbed your duffel. He waved you into the hall and locked the door behind him with one hand. He tucked away his key and nudged you onward. Only the stomp of your boots sounded as you hurried down the stairwell and he pushed by you to open the heavy door.

He ushered you out into the early morning chill and caught your elbow as he followed you. He urged you across the parking lot to a black car with tinted windows just at the edge of the tarmac. He opened the back door and tossed our bag inside.

“Get in,” he said as he looked around. “Now.”

You ducked through the door and Bucky climbed in the passenger seat. You blinked as you caught a glimpse of the driver in the rearview. Then he turned to nod at Bucky and you recognized him. Steve Rogers greeted his old friend with a quiet ‘hey’.

“Go,” Bucky demanded. 

“No introductions?” Steve put the car in gear and pulled past the rows of cars.

“This is Steve,” Bucky said sharply as he looked back at you, “I know you’ve read the case file. You already know her.”

“Where are we going?” You asked softly as you leaned on the duffel.

“Safe house. About two hours out,” Steve answered before Bucky could. “You’ll be safe there.”

You chewed your lip. Well, surely two was better than one and yet Captain America’s presence was hardly reassuring. That just confirmed to you how fucked this whole situation was.

“Fury didn’t like the last minute notice but he understood,” Steve said to Bucky.

“Mmm, we can talk about it later.” Bucky grumbled. “Honey, why don’t you get some more sleep. It’s gonna be a long ride.”

Steve peeked at you in the mirror as he turned out of the parking lot. He glanced at Bucky next but stayed quiet as his eyes returned to the road.

“Take your own advice, Buck,” Steve snickered. “You both look like you need it.”

👁️

You didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. A mixture of anxiety and the shadow of alcohol kept you awake. Even so, you closed your eyes and kept quiet in the backseat. The motion of the road lulled you and helped ease your headache. Few words passed between the men up front.

When you did open your eyes, tall trees passed you by and lined the winding road ahead. You were well out of the city but couldn't guess where. Maybe you should have paid attention. Or not. It was better to be far away, to lose yourself in hopes your stalker would as well.

The cabin was nothing special. It looked like any other retreat away from the world. Deep in the heart of the forest, it felt an entirely different world. As Steve killed the engine, you sat up and unbuckled your seat belt. You slid out of the backseat with your bag in hand as Bucky went to the trunk and pulled out a bag of his own. Steve did the same and checked the time on his watch.

You followed Steve as Bucky stayed to your rear. You didn't miss his hand on his knife or the way he looked around. Up the steps, you wait as Steve pressed his hand over the sign that said “home sweet home" and the door clicked. He nudged the door open with his foot and let you in. Bucky closed the door and the latch whirred loudly back into place.

Steve turned and opened a panel beside the door. He pressed a finger against the screen and quickly typed in several codes. A sudden lurch and the shudders rose on their own; metal slats folding and rolling up in unison. The lights all flicked on at once and the growl of a generator rose from below.

"Windows are bulletproof. There's no way in or out without one of us," Steve pointed between himself and Bucky, "And most assuredly, you have two super soldiers watching your back." 

"Mmhmm," you muttered as you looked around. "Well, I think it's bad enough I even need two."

"Well better than none," Bucky said. "Steve, you can show her around. I need to call HQ, give a description of this guy before it's too far gone."

"Sure," Steve said and waved Bucky off. He turned to you as he unzipped his coat. "Not sure why he's asking me. I've never been to this one before."

"How long will I be here?" You asked as you took of your jacket and he took it from you to hang it over his own. 

"Well," he leaned on the wall as he removed his boots, "I hope not too long. If Bucky got a good look at this guy, no more than a week or two. "

"So… you know… everything?"

"I've caught up," he said, "Not gonna lie, it's… intense but you shouldn't worry. Me and Bucky, we've never had a mission we couldn't handle."

"Guess it's better than being on my own," you said. "I just… why me?"

He tucked his hands in his pocket and looked at you. "Well, from what I know, these types rarely have logical reasoning. You can't blame yourself." He shifted his weight on his feet, "Hey," he pointed behind you to the next room, "A woodstove. How about that?"

👁️

When Steve finished the tour, or rather aimless wandering, of the safe house, he let you pick a room. There were several and you didn’t give much thought to your choice. You just wanted somewhere to relax. It was barely after noon and already it felt like the day had dragged on. After such a terrifying night, you had been thoroughly unprepared for the startling reality of the day.

He left you to seemingly ordinary room. A double bed, plaid duvet, chestnut night tables and a matching dresser. A carpet woven in the Navajo fashion was sprawled across the floor and a small desk looked out the window. A portrait of pine and maple seemed to mirror the view on the opposite wall and added to the cabin’s cozy allure.

You placed your duffel atop the dresser and slid open one drawer at a time as you unpacked your hastily collected attire. Two pairs of jeans, a pair of pajamas, a pair of loose shorts, socks, several shirts with vary styles and sleeve lengths, a second bra, and your scramble of toiletries. The only thing that was missing were your underwear. You swore you had grabbed those first as they lined your top drawer but they were no where to be found in your mess.

You could’ve overlooked them. Easily. You were so rattled, so hollow, so suffocated by terror that you couldn’t think of much but the smell of blood and the voice that grew clearer and clear in your mind.

Your head continued to pulse with the dregs of your previous night’s excess and the bile boiled in your stomach. You sat on the bed and held your head. You took a breath, restless despite your fatigue, and sighed. You hadn’t done anything and yet it felt as if you had dug yourself into the hole. As if no matter what you did, the pit got deeper and deeper and soon the dirt would start to pile in on you.

You shook off your despair and stood so quickly you stumbled. You needed to just stop. You needed to breathe; calm down. As blunt as Bucky could be, he was often right. You had him and Steve looking out for you.

You peeked out into the hallway and listened. You heard the two men talking but they were not close enough to decipher their words. You stepped out and crossed to the washroom just opposite your room. You locked yourself in and searched the cupboard for a towel. There were at least a dozen to your surprise and you hung one over the bar before you twisted the faucet on.

Anything to wash away your hangover. To cleanse you of the constant dread of your existence. A couple minutes under a hot shower to forget. A few moment for yourself. To just be.

You undressed and winced as the peculiar pain between your legs. You’d felt tender for much of the day and assumed maybe the stress was bringing on an early period. No blood, however. You felt grimy as you peeled off your layers and stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked as worn out as you felt.

You slipped past the curtain and welcomed the sheer heat of the downpour. You let it wash over you, let the steam smother you, let the rivulets slake over you and swirl down the drain. It was second, minutes, hours, eons… you could not tell.

You were sleepy as you turned off the tap. You wrapped yourself in the fluffy white towel and gather your clothes. There wasn’t much for you to do here; Steve had said as much. You stepped out into the hall and were startled by the figure in your bedroom door. Bucky turned to face you. His eyes flicked down for just a moment as you clutched your towel.

“I knocked,” he said. “I didn’t realise--”

“It’s fine. What do you need?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“As good as I can be,” the warmth seeped from you as the air nipped at your bare skin, “Thanks.”

“Good, good,” he nodded and smiled awkwardly. “I have a favour to ask you.”

“A favour?” You hugged your clothes in one arm as you kept your distance.

“Well, we only have rations really in the cupboards. Not very good. Vacuum sealed and bland. So thought maybe you could make a list and me and Steve could take care of that tomorrow.” He explained. “And anything else you need. Shampoo, toothpaste, whatever…”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you pressed your lips together. “You mind if I, uh, get dressed then get back to you?”

“Y-yeah,” he seemed to realise he was blocking your door, “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be downstairs. We’re just going over some evidence.”

“Alright,” you sidled past him. “I’ll be down soon.”

You quickly closed your door and leaned against it. You listened through the thick wood. You heard a soft tap and the drag of something against the other side. A whisper you could not discern before his footsteps finally retreated. Odd but perhaps you were only hearing things. Paranoia could make the tallest tales seem true.

You dressed, mournful of your forgotten underwear, and made your way downstairs. Bucky sat with his back to you as you entered the dining room, a chandelier with fake candles hung from the ceiling and cast hazy shadows along the walls. Steve sat to his left and slid over a piece of paper. 

Both heard you enter and looked over at you; Steve smiled, Bucky stared pensively.

“I can make that list now,” you neared as you hugged yourself. “It’s chilly in here.”

“Oh…” Steve looked down then scoffed, “Yeah, afraid we’re not so sensitive to it. We tend to forget.” He stood and stretched his arms. “I’ll go figure out the furnace.”

“So, have you--” Your voice caught in your throat as you neared. You caught sight of the frantic scribbles, the smeared led across the paper. Bucky tried to sweep the sheet into a folder but you stopped him as Steve froze behind his chair. “What is that?”

He didn’t need to tell you. It was a drawing of you, crude but discernible. You were bound and naked, legs wide and there was blood smeared down your chest. You gaped at the sketch and shook your head. Bucky stood slowly.

“He did this?” You rasped. “How many-- how many of these has he done?”

“It’s confidential,” Bucky snatched the paper and placed it in the folder. “You shouldn’t be looking at all this.”

“After last night? After he broke into my apartment this morning?! What am I supposed to do? How can I do anything if I know nothing?”

“We are taking care of it,” Bucky grabbed your shoulders. “So you just be a good girl and let us.”

“I can’t do nothing! Please, do you have any idea what it’s like? All I can think of is this-- this monster and everything he’s done. What he’s gonna do to me.” You latched onto his wrists and tried to pull him away. “I almost just wish he’d have it done with.”

Bucky growled and Steve warned him with a hum. He dropped his hands and backed away from you. He stacked up the folders and looked at Steve.

“Take her back to her room before you deal with the heat,” Bucky said. “Lock her in if you have to.”

“What? You can’t--”

“Honey, I can do whatever I want to keep you safe,” he pointed a finger in your face. “I have the clearance.”

You snorted and glanced at Steve. He gave a pitiful look in return. He motioned to the doorway as he raised his brows in exasperation. You didn’t look at Bucky again as you turned and stormed out ahead of Steve. As he caught up to you at the bottom of the stairs, he kept his voice low.

“I won’t lock you in,” he said, “Just don’t push him. He just needs time.”

“He needs time?” You scoffed.

“Look, he told me what happened this morning. He’s not the type to be left bleeding like that.” Steve explained, “And he really does want to keep you safe.”

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #short series #scopaesthesia #mcu #marvel #serial killer #serial killer au

[the-bau-quinjet]

Sore

I don’t love what this idea turned into, because it was supposed to be lighthearted, but it really spiraled. I will say, I like the ending.

Summary: Reader breaks down after a tough case. Spencer is there to help. 

Warnings: mentions on child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual assault, unhealthy coping mechanisms, therapy

Word Count: 2930

She didn’t mean to overdo it, but sometimes it’s inevitable. It’s her only escape.

 The team just finished up a domestic violence cult case in Laramie, Wyoming. It took six days for them to even realize the cult aspect, having been trying to connect the victims to one offender. The case was draining for everyone, but especially for her.

Everyone in the BAU has some kind of past trauma. Nobody randomly decides to do this kind of work for a living without some significant inspiration. Over her time in the BAU, Y/N has come to learn about these traumas and how they’ve shaped the people around her. She has yet to share hers though. Not because she doesn’t trust them, but rather because she only ever talks about it to her therapist. She’s made significant progress in coping with her trauma, but she hasn’t worked through it enough to bring it up herself.

 Of course, keeping it bottled up doesn’t work so she found a way to relieve the stress. Exercise. It’s never been a problem before now. She’s never overdone it before. If a case has her thinking about it, or she’s having a particularly bad day, she’ll do a HIIT or fully body workout until she’s tired enough that her brain shuts off.

 Her therapist is working with her to limit the bad days. Honestly, since joining the BAU her bad days have been rather infrequent. There’s just too much else to worry about for her to think about her own problems.

 But this case hit too close to home. Every new victim and every new piece of evidence reminded Y/N of what it was like growing up with abusive parents. She went into foster care at 15. Three years later, she went to college and did everything in her power to forget it.

 But history has a way of repeating itself. Her college boyfriend hurt her. It started small. He grew controlling, accused her of cheating, and then tried to beat the “truth” out of her. She finally left him, only to wind up with another guy who wouldn’t take no as an answer. So she stopped dating. She threw herself into her work, trying to rid the world of men like those of her past. That’s what lead her to the BAU.

 The group of profilers on the jet could all tell something was off, but Y/N isn’t one to be pushed into opening up. They know she’ll come to them when she’s ready to talk about it. Whatever “it” is. So, rather than poking and prodding, each member shows they are there for her in their own way.

 Derek and Emily each give her a hug before departing, something reserved for after especially difficult cases. Rossi squeezes her shoulder, much how she would imagine a loving parent to. JJ offers a kind smile, the one that always brings you joy, and reassuring eyes before heading out for the day. Hotch gives her less paperwork than everyone else. Penelope sends her extra videos of cute animals to lift her spirits. And Spencer stays by her side for the entire flight. Normally, Spencer would sprawl out on the sofa to catch up on the sleep he always lacks. Instead, he sits beside Y/N and offers her the blanket he typically uses, calming her nerves with the gentle swishing of pages being turned in his book of the hour.

 With everything on her mind, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She should call her therapist, but they aren’t landing until 9:30 pm and she knows Dr. Robbins has a family of her own. So, she treats it like she used to treat a bad day. She finds a workout to do, and puts every last ounce of energy into the different exercises.

 Only, it doesn’t work like it used to. After completing the nearly hour long workout, her mind is still whirring with the pictures from the evidence board. Every time she closes her eyes she sees her father’s face, and hears his drunken yelling. Her mother in the background, unbothered because she only had Y/N so he would have a new punching bag.

 So, she finds another workout. And then another. And then another. After three more hours, she’s finally exhausted her brain into tuning out the memories long enough for her to sleep.

 She sleeps for most of Saturday, waking only long enough to shower and eat dinner. Sunday morning, the memories are back. So, she’s back to working out.

She knows in her head that it isn’t healthy, but the logical part of her brain isn’t exactly functioning at its highest level. All she’s focused on is making the pain go away. If turning the emotional pain into physical pain is what it takes, then so be it. She’d rather have the aching muscles.

 All of that, lead her to now. It’s Monday morning and she can barely walk like a normal person. Every step requires more energy than the last. Hell, she can’t even sit down without falling into the chair.

 The elevator doors spring open, revealing the glass doors that lead to the BAU bullpen. She walks in as best she can, tossing her bag on her desk with a dull thud. Of course, she’s later than normal and so Spencer and Morgan are sitting at their desks, watching as she throws herself into her chair.

 “Hi Y/N…” Spencer trails off when he sees the bags under her eyes and notices her stiff posture. “Um, are you alright?” Spencer’s puppy like concern warms her heart.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. I just did a little too much at the gym this weekend is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.” She tries to hide the underlying emotional stress behind why she did too much. Morgan can tell she’s hiding something though, even if he is way off base about what it is.

 “Yeah, the gym.” Morgan snorts his response, cutting Spencer off before he could start rambling about how to combat the negative effects of too much exercise and simultaneously drawing the attention of Emily and JJ who were reentering the bullpen after getting coffee.

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” JJ questions before Y/N can defend herself.

 “Little mama over here is sore from too much time at ‘the gym’.” It’s clear to her, and nearly everyone else in the room, that Morgan thinks she is sore from being absolutely railed. Suddenly all eyes are on her. It’s just too much for her to take. The combination of mental and physical exhaustion crossed with not wanting to talk about it causes her to break.

 She’s not sure what thought process her brain is following when she replies. Actually, she’s pretty confident her brain isn’t functioning at all when she starts speaking. Her words are painfully quiet, lacking the typical edge one would expect from someone so mentally and physically exhausted. She sounds broken. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was in the gym for four hours Friday night and seven more yesterday, so excuse me if I’m a little bit stiff. It’s hard to work in time to stretch afterward when you’ve finally exhausted yourself enough to sleep without having to worry about remembering-.” With tears in her eyes, she cuts herself off, pushes herself from her chair, and starts the walk toward Hotch’s office, stopping to whisper her gratitude to Reid. “Spence, thank you for checking in on me.”

 Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Reid share confused glances as she opens and closes the door to Hotch’s office without even knocking.

 “Hotch, I think I need to go home. I- I need to talk to someone and I can’t do that if I’m here.” She manages to mutter out the words without fully breaking down, but Hotch can still clearly see something is wrong.

 “If that’s what you need to do, please go ahead. I just want you to know that we’re here for you too. You’ve been part of this team for a little over two years now. None of us want you to feel like you have to keep it all to yourself. Unfortunately nightmares come with the job, but I want you to know we all-” He stops talking as the tears begin to stream down her face. Rising from his seat, he walks around his desk to offer her support.

 Without even sparing it a second thought, Y/N collapses into his arms. She’s too exhausted to hide her emotions anymore. It’s all become too much.

 “I just can’t keep it in anymore. I feel like I’m hiding a piece of me from all of you, and I just don’t want to anymore.” It’s not exactly how she pictured letting it all out, but it makes sense. She’s hit a wall and there’s no way forwards but through.

 “Shh, it’s okay. What do you need?” Hotch is protective over his entire team, but something about Y/N makes him feel like an older brother. Like it’s his job to protect her from anything and everything he can.

 “I just want to go home. I need a break from remembering it all.” Hotch nods in understanding, reaching for his coat.

 “I’ll take you now.”

 “Actually, can Spencer take me? I want to tell him first. And can you tell Morgan I’m sorry? It wasn’t fair to say that. He didn’t know.” Hotch guides her out of his office, promising that Morgan wouldn’t hold it against her.

 “Reid, take L/N home.” Spencer nods in understanding, already reaching for Y/N’s keys since he takes the metro.

 It feels like hours have gone by, but it couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes before Spencer was sitting next to her on her couch in her apartment. They didn’t talk at all on the drive. Tears were still falling down her cheeks, but at a much less alarming rate.

 “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. We can just sit here.” Spencer has never felt less equipped to handle a situation. His years of learning everything there is to know haven’t prepared him for seeing the one person he cares about more than anyone else in the world so broken.

 “No. I- I want to tell you. But I need you to do me a favor afterward.” She sniffles, slowly looking into his eyes.

 “I’ll do anything you need me to.” His words are so sincere, it almost brings about another round of sobs.

 “After I tell you, I need you to tell everyone else. I just know I won’t be able to force myself to relive it more than once, so if I tell you, then you can tell everyone else because-”

 “I’ll remember exactly what you say.” He nods to himself, thinking she picked him for his memory rather than because of any potential feelings.

 “Well, yeah. But, also I wanted you to hear it from me. I wanted to tell you because I couldn’t bear the thought of you hearing it from anyone else. I wanted to look into your eyes when I say it all for the first time without being with my therapist because I know you will still look at me the same way afterward. You won’t treat me any different because you know what it’s like to feel like the baby of the group and as much as everyone else cares, with you it’s different. I just know you’ll understand what I need in a way nobody else will because you’ve always been able to read me, even when I tried to hide it.” She manages a weak smile in his direction, taking a deep breath to prevent anymore ramblings.

 “I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I- thank you for trusting me enough to be here for you.” For the first time since meeting Y/N, Spencer feels like she might feel the same way about him that he feels about her. Of course, now isn’t the time to act on it, but it still fills him with a confidence he would have otherwise been lacking.

 Before she starts talking again, Y/N reaches for Spencer’s hand. An action he would quickly come to understand is a big deal for her.

 “As far back as I can remember, I never had anyone who cared about me. My dad, he would hit my mom. When she got pregnant, she saw it as a way out. He stopped hitting her because she told him once I was born, he would have his own personal punching bag, but I had to actually be born for that to happen. I don’t really know when he started hitting me. If I was an infant or a toddler or whatever. But it’s all I can remember of them.” Spencer begins rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb when he hears her breathing speed up.

 “It was like that until I managed to tell one of my teachers there was something wrong. I was fifteen when I was placed in foster care. I switched between homes until I went to college on scholarship.” Spencer does his best to provide comfort to you, but he can tell there’s more to the story.

 “Freshmen year of college a met a guy. We started dating, and I thought I found someone who cared, ya know? But, he started to get angry at the smallest things. He would lash out, break things. One day he started hitting me, forcing me to do things.” She takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I was more prepared this time though. I had a therapist I could call. She helped me work up the courage to leave him. But then right after graduating I met another guy and it all turned out the same.” Silent tears pour down her face as she continues.

 “I felt trapped. Like there was no way for me to escape the cycle. No matter what I did differently I kept meeting people who hurt me to deal with their own pain. I gave it all up, figured I’d never find people who would care about me. I focused on work, made it to the BAU. On bad days, I would work out until I was so tired I couldn’t remember my own name let alone the things they had done to me. Then when I met all of you, it felt too good to be true. There was this whole team of people who suddenly cared about me. It was hard at first, to accept that it was real. But you have to know I never thought any of you would hurt me, it was just in my head that I would never have this kind of familial bond with anyone.

 This last case, I don’t know what it was about it, but I couldn’t stop seeing the evidence boards. The faces of women who were passed around from man to man as objects to abuse. So, I fell back into my old habit. Only, it didn’t work like it used to so I just kept going and going until I could escape.” The tears slowed as she managed to get everything off her chest. All that could be heard in the room was her ragged breaths.

 “Y/N, I… I can’t imagine how difficult that was to share.” Spencer shifted closer to her, but not too close in case she didn’t want the touch.

 “I’ve always felt like the team- like you would understand. I’ve been working on it in therapy actually. Figuring out a way to tell you all, but I guess I hit the proverbial wall first...” She’s shaking her head as she looks at the floor.

 “Hey, none of that. I know self-deprecation when I see it, and I will not tolerate it from you.” His words carry a gentle conviction. “You are truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I’ve seen you take down unsubs three times your size with pure physical strength. I’ve also seen you talk an unsub down, saving countless lives without laying a hand on them. Never doubt that you are strong enough for this job, because you are one of the strongest people I know.”

 Spencer’s words bring tears to her eyes, but the happy kind this time. She throws her arms around him, snuggling as close as she can. Spencer, at first surprised by the contact, freezes. He quickly melts into her embrace, rubbing circles into her back until she falls asleep.

 Spencer manages to fill the team in via text, explaining enough that everyone understands what happened without having to go into too much detail. He helps her move to her bedroom, trying to prevent any more soreness. When she asks him to stay, he lays down by her side.

 The next morning she wakes up cuddled next to Spencer with several texts from her BAU family. Rossi invited everyone to his house for dinner, an offer she greatly appreciates.

 That night, the team shows her what it feels like to have a family over pasta and wine, a classic combination. In the future, they’ll continue to show her what family really is.

 Spencer will show her what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship. He’ll show her how it feels to be loved without living in constant fear. She’ll show him what it means to be loved for who you are.

 They’ll show each other what it means to be happy.

  tag list:

@mac99martin​

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Extreme Aggressor: Part Two

Pairing: Eventual Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

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

Summary: Jason Gideon is called back from a six-month leave from the Behavioral Analysis Unit to profile a killer. Meanwhile, the team flies across the country to Seattle when another young woman goes missing at the hands of "The Seattle Strangler," another serial killer.

Author’s Note: Here is it finally! After hard work, it is finally ready for your viewing pleasure! Please, feedback is always appreciated so let me know what you like about it and what you didn’t!

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

So without further ado, please enjoy!

After arriving at the police headquarters, you followed Gideon and the rest of the team inside the building. It still felt awkward between you and the rest of the team which is why you stuck to Gideon’s side the whole time. He walked fast throughout the building, and you did your best to keep up.

“He never stands with his back to a window. When I was between him and a doorway, he asked me to move,” Derek gossiped about your friend.

“That's hypervigilance. It's not uncommon in post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Just how much disorder are we talking about?”

“Morgan, it's been six months. Everything's okay,” Hotchner calmed him down.

“And he brings along a woman we don’t even know? How do we know we can trust her? I’m sorry, but she doesn’t mean anything to me yet,” Derek asked just as you passed them.

Looking at them over your shoulder, you caught Spencer’s eyes before moving on.

“Give her time. You gave me time,” he said, catching up to you. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. He’s right. I’m a stranger to you guys.”

“Hopefully by the end of this, you won’t be,” he smiled, walking into the main room with you that was crowded with uniforms.

“This is special agent Gideon, special agent Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes, special agent Reid—”

“Dr. Reid,” Gideon interrupted.

“Dr. Reid, our expert on well, everything, and the newest member of our team, Y/N Y/L/N. And after two years busting my ass in this office, I hope you all remember me,” Hotchner smiled with the laughter that ensured throughout the room.

“He's willing to travel with the body,” Gideon speaks, looking at the map.

“Then he drives a vehicle capable of concealing one,” Hotchner added.

“1 in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns an SUV,” Spencer spat out.

“But how do we know it's his car? Ted Bundy drove a VW Bug. What about a Jeep Cherokee? Jeeps are more masculine,” Derek voiced his thoughts.

“We all know how an unsub feels about asserting his masculinity,” Gideon chuckled.

“When did the bureau become involved in the case?” Hotchner asked the lead police officer.

“After the fourth body. He dumped that one out of state.”

While everyone was conversing and talking, you walked up the board with the recent pictures of the latest kidnapped victim, Heather. She went missing about a day ago which means she has about 24 hours left until she is dead—and the clock is ticking. Her image and the photos of the abduction site certainly does something for you, but it’s not enough. Reaching up to touch the image of her, you closed your eyes to see if you can get anything from a picture.

A flash of an orange car here, her heart rate increasing while inside the car, but other than that, you got nothing. It would be better if you were touching some of her things since the human body leaves traces wherever they go, whatever they touch. Since she wasn’t murdered, there isn’t a dump site that would give you even more clues and answers.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked when he saw you.

Opening your eyes, you lowered your hand before looking at him.

“I am trying to connect myself with her through a photograph. It’s not that common to get anything, but it does happen. I see an orange car and her fearful expressions, but that’s about it.”

“What do you need in order to get a clearer picture?”

“Her belongings. Every human leaves a spiritual trace wherever they go. It’s stronger with personal items.”

“Agent Gideon, where would you like to start?” one of the policemen asked.

“Let's start at the site of the last murder. Y/N, you coming?”

“I think I’ll get a better read on Heather and whether she’s alive or not if I’m with her things. I’ll go to her house.”

“Reid and I will go with you,” Hotchner announced.

Knowing you wouldn’t go alone, you bit your own tongue and followed the two men out the door. The fact that the Bureau provided government standard SUVs were pretty cool. It didn’t take long to go to Heather’s house, and when you arrived, you met her brother and the dog she owned.

“Sandy, no, no, no. I'm so sorry,” Heather’s brother, David, apologized when the big dog started barking and trying to playfully attack you three. However, when it came to you, the dog just stared at you silently.

“No, it's okay. It's what we call the Reid effect,” Hotchner stated, causing the young doctor to be confused. “I'm agent Hotchner. This is special agent Dr. Reid and Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N is fine,” you quickly added.

“You two look too young to have gone to medical school,” the man observed.

“They're PhD's. 3 of them. She has two.”

“Spencer,” you whispered softly to get him to shut up about it.

It’s not like you don’t want people to know you have 2 PhDs, but you just didn’t want the attention. Plus, if your dad knew you went to school to be a profiler in the FBI, he’d have your head.

“Are you a genius or something?”

“I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute,” he gushed. The man stared at him like he was crazy, so the young doctor just agreed. “Yes, I'm a genius.”

“Sandy, you get a lot of attention, don't you?” Hotchner asked the dog who just panted.

Instead of being with them, you took a look around the room to see if you can get a feel to the place. Heather’s spirit was here through certain items, but because there are more than one, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from. The conversation went on about her dog until it got back on track.

“David, does your sister drive a Datsun Z?” Spencer asked when he picked up a magazine.

“No, but she's in the market for one. How'd you know?” he asked, and Spencer held it up. David just shook his head and took his dog outside since she was getting antsy.

“There's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller, a certain level of trust. If I want to coax a young woman into my car, I’d offer her a test drive,” you said, causing the two men to stare at you.

Their bodies were emitting tension, and you knew they didn’t trust you at all. You needed to do something to prove to them that you were worthy enough to be on this team.

“Let me show you what I can do, okay?”

“Alright,” Hotch said.

Taking the magazine from Spencer’s hands, you closed your eyes in concentration. A multitude of pictures flashed through your mind due to the residue that Heather left behind, until those pictures turned into film. Heather was seated on the couch right behind Hotch and Spencer, flipping through the magazine happily. When she got to the page she wanted, she grabbed the red marker on the table next to her and circled the orange car a bunch of times. She then grabbed her money and began counting it to see if she had enough money to buy it.

“Heather is sitting on that couch, super excited to buy the orange car I keep seeing. She circles the one she wants with a red marker, and she starts to count her money,” you open your eyes, and began to flip through the magazine until you found the page you were looking for. “If I’m right, it’s this page she was on. She found someone with this exact car, and whoever took her did it because they got her to test drive it.”

The page you landed on was the same exact page with the red marker.

“Nice job,” Hotch complimented.

“That’s amazing,” Spencer muttered.

“Thank you. I just want to help, Agent Hotchner.”

“Please, call me Hotch.”

“Okay, then how about the fact that on one hand, we have paranoid psychosis, but the autopsy protocol says what?” Derek asked.

Back at the office, everyone was talking about the case and how the MO of this unsub didn’t make any sense. Derek was the one who was freaking out about everything since apparently not having a profile ready didn't bode well for him.

“Adhesive residue shows he put layer after layer of duct tape over his victims' eyes,” Spencer answered.

“He knows he wants to kill them, but he still covers their eyes. He doesn't want 'em looking at him, apparently. Okay, but then he takes the body and dumps it right out in the open, murder weapon nearby.”

“Not the MO of a paranoid convinced he's being watched or surveilled,” Spencer added.

Gideon stares at the drawing board while the rest talked about the case. Just by the look of his face, he was drowning out whatever they were saying. Even though you can get a read on his spiritual energy, that didn’t mean you could understand what he is thinking.

“Jason? What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, making sure only he could hear you.

However, he didn’t answer you directly.

“Alright, enough,” he interrupted the chatter in the room. “Let's tell them we're ready.”

“We're ready?” Derek gasped as Gideon left the room. The young genius started to write something down on his notepad, but the older agent wasn’t finished. “Reid, you're good with this? We've got a woman who's only got a few hours left to live, an incomplete profile, and a unit chief on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

“They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore,” you noted.

“It's called a major depressive episode.”

“I know, Reid,” Derek sighed.

Walking away from the board, you looked at Spencer quickly right before you left the room. Gideon gathered everyone in a conference room to deliver the profile and stood in the middle of the room with the tables blocking him in on three sides like a square. The rest of his team stood off to the side, and while Hotch, Spencer, and Derek were listening, you were watching the reactions of everyone in this room. If your abilities told you anything, it’s how untrustworthy even the most highly respected person could be.

“The unidentified subject is white and in his late 20's. He's someone you wouldn't notice at first. He's someone who'd blend into any crowd. The violent nature of the crime suggests a previous criminal record--petty crimes, maybe auto theft,” Gideon began. Running your eyes over every person in this room, you tapped into their energies to see what the normal eye couldn’t.

“We've classified him as an organized killer—psychopathic as opposed to psychotic. He follows the news, has good hygiene, and he's smart. 'Cause he's smart, the only physical evidence you'll find is what he wants you to find,” Gideon continued. The person right in front of you wanted to pay attention, but all of his focus was centered on his phone. He’s got some private issues at home that you rather not delve into right now.

“He's mobile, and his car in good condition. Our guess is a Jeep Cherokee with tinted windows. The murders have all involved rapes, but rape without penetration is a form of piquerism, and that tells us he's sexually inadequate.”

The person to your right is paying very close attention to what Gideon is saying, but she is focused on his lips and the way he talks which says that she’s attracted to him right now. That made you want to laugh because you knew for a fact that Gideon was seeing someone on the down low.

“What is it?” Spencer whispered when he saw the hint of your smile.

“That woman over there wants to bone Gideon,” you whispered back.

“How do you know?”

“I’m psychic, Spencer. I know more about a person than you think. Want me to do you?”

“No, thank you,” he whispered and got back to what Gideon was saying.

“Psychiatric evaluations will show a history of paranoia stemming from a childhood trauma—death of a parent or family member, and now he feels persecuted and watched. Murder gives him a sense of power. Organized killers have a fascination with law enforcement. They will inject themselves into the investigation. They will even come forward as witnesses to see just how much the police really know. That makes them feel powerful, in control. Which is why I also think in fact, I know you have already interviewed him,” Gideon finished, causing the entire room to feel shocked at the news.

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@averyhotchner​

#extreme aggressor #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm angst #season 1 episode 1 #s1e1

[chimnevhan]

Mystery Man: Luke Alvez x Female Reader

Prompt: The reader has to go to a wedding and tells her mother she is bringing her “boyfriend” that doesn’t actually exist, so Luke volunteers to go.

Words: 4.7k

Notes: This is my first real fanfiction I have written in about a year! I hope you enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~ Y/n woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. She checked the caller id to see that it was her mother. She answered the call and her mother began to yell in her ear.

“Y/n this wedding is in two weeks, and you said you were going to rsvp last week. You are cutting very close to the deadline and you know your cousin hates it when you do that. Also, are you bringing that mystery boyfriend?” Y/n’s mother yelled through the phone. 

“Good morning to you to Mother. I know I said I was going to rsvp last week, I just got busy with a new case. I will put in for the time off today and talk to my boyfriend and see if he wants to come with.” Y/n said as she started to stress over how there was no mystery boyfriend. She made it up to please her mother. 

“There is no seeing if he wants to come with Y/n. He is either coming or you are not coming at all. I can not have my only daughter come without her boyfriend. The family will think I raised you to be a joke, which I did not. Do you understand me? Send in your rsvp today and I will talk to you later.” With that, her mother hangs up leaving y/n speechless as she lay in her bed. Y/n looked at the clock and realized she was going to be late for work. 

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

As soon as y/n sat down at her desk, Luke could immediately tell something was off about her mood. It didn’t take a profiler to tell she was upset about something. He was about to get up to ask her what was wrong but before he could Emily called the team into the briefing room. Luke walked with y/n to the briefing room. 

“Hey, do you want to talk about it on the jet?” He whispered in her ear as they walked up the steps. She nodded in response as she walked into the room. Luke took the seat next to her and opened up his tablet to see what the case was about.

“We have a case in Lewiston, Maine. Four women have been tortured and killed in the last 4 days. The local police are calling us in due to the connections each of the victims have. They are all between the ages of 21-25 and were all last seen leaving local bars. Alright, we will discuss more once we get there. Get your go bags and then wheels up.” Emily stated as she turned off the board and walked out of the room. 

Y/n and Luke grabbed their bags from under their desks and headed to the elevator. Once the elevator doors shut Luke looked at his sad coworker. 

“So what is going on in that beautiful head of yours?” Luke asked as he put his hand on y/n’s back. 

“Oh my cousin’s wedding and just me disappointing my mother again. How does she expect me to have a boyfriend with the job I have? I honestly do not understand how JJ and Will make it work. I mean they even have kids too.” Y/n said with a sigh as she looked up at Luke.

“So what about the wedding. Are you going? It will be a good chance to get out of work for a week. You do need a break.” Luke said, trying to comfort her. 

“I want to go, I think it would be nice, but I don’t have a boyfriend. I told my mom I had a boyfriend about 4 months ago. Yet I don’t, and she said if I don’t bring him with me, I am not allowed to go.” 

“I will go. You know, if you want. I mean come on. The team already thinks we are dating. We spend almost every day together, we share rooms on cases, how hard could it be?” Luke said with a smile as the elevator doors opened. 

“Luke, are you sure? I mean. It is a lot more than what we have now. You know my family.” Y/n said as she got into the passenger side of Luke’s car. 

“I am sure. I have a suit and everything. Just let me know how many days and I will request off. I have as many vacation days as you if not more. I am sure Garcia would be more than happy to watch Roxy while I am gone.” Luke replied as he started the car. “Plus, it will get you a break from your mother hounding you.” 

“Well, I guess I will send in the rsvp,” Y/n mumbled as she took out her phone. With a click of a button, she was in. “No backing out on me now Alvez.” Y/n said with a smirk on her face. 

They arrived at the airport in no time and met the rest of the team on the jet. As they walked in they received smirks from the rest of the team. 

“There are the love birds.” Rossi said as Luke and y/n sat down on the couch. Everybody laughed and received eye rolls from the pair. 

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

 The flight wasn’t long and the team was in Lewiston within 2 hours. Emily assigned everyone to go to different offices, pairing everyone up. Reid and Simmons, Tara and Rossi, Her and JJ, and Y/n and Luke. 

On their way to the corners, Luke asked Y/n about what he should bring and what he should be expecting at this wedding. 

“Well it is in the Bahamas so bring a swimsuit, and nice dress clothes. Honestly Luke, just be yourself. My family will like you more than they like me anyway.”

“Oh, Y/n that isn’t true. I am sure they all love you very much.” Luke comforted her with a soft smile. 

“Well. We will be sharing a room, but that shouldn’t be a problem, since we do it all the time. Basically, act as my boyfriend. Kiss me every now and then, hold my hand, tell me you love me. I will play along. No one there will notice a thing, they didn’t go to school to be a profiler. They don’t notice the little things like you and I do.” Y/n told him as they pulled into the corners parking lot. 

“So you wouldn’t mind if I just-” Luke grabbed y/n and kissed her. 

“LUKE!! Oh my god- WE ARE WORKING!!” Y/n screamed as she pulled away. “But yes, do that, except when we are not working!!” As y/n got out of the car, Luke sat there in shock. After a few seconds passed he got out of the car

The two of them walked into the coroner's office, silently. Y/n was still shocked that Luke would kiss her in the middle of a case. They met up with the medical examiner and went back to the morgue. The bodies laid covered on tables throughout the room. 

“Which is the first victim?” Y/n asked the medical examiner. 

“This one over here.” She replied, leading Luke and y/n over a body. “Her name is Melissa Vernon. She is 23 and her cause of death was a gunshot to the head.”

“Was there any signs of torture to any of the victims?” Luke asked.

“No sir, they seemed to be tied to a chair, shot in the head, and then left to be found.” 

“Alright, thank you. Give us a call if you find anything new.” Y/n said as she followed Luke out of the morgue. Luke and y/n walked out to the car and headed back to the station.

“Something seemed off about the victims.” Luke mentioned to y/n while they were driving. 

“What about them?” Y/n answered. She was confused about what he was trying to say.

“None of the victims were drunk when they were abducted nor poisoned.”

“You are right, so either they all knew the unsub or he was able to seduce them to want to go home with him.” Y/n said as she took out her phone. “I am going to ask Penelope to look into the background of the victims more. Have her check past history with the victims.” 

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

Once back at the station Luke filled Emily in with the information they gathered while y/n was on the phone with Garcia. 

“So according to their cell phone records each victim had a 2 minute phone call with the same number 5 minutes before they were abducted. Garcia tried to find the owner of the number but it was on a disposable phone, but based off of the towers the phone pinged off of. The unsub was in this area during the time of each call.” Y/n said as she drew on the map on the whiteboard. 

“If we spread out, tonight we might be able to catch him if he is around. I am sure with his killing pace, one victim a night, he will strike again. I think it is time to give the profile.” Emily stated as she texted the rest of the team to get back to the station as fast as they could. 

When the rest of the team arrived at the station, they gave the profile. 

“Alright, everyone go back to the motel, freshen up. Get some lunch and then meet back around here by 5 pm.” Emily told her team. As everyone left Luke and y/n stayed behind. 

“Hey Prentiss, I have to talk to you.” Y/n stated as she sat down at the table Emily was sitting at. 

“Alright, Luke, wait outside.” 

“No Emily, he can stay.” Luke shut the door and sat down at the table with the women. “In two weeks I need to take personal time for a week, and so does Luke.” Y/n said to Emily as she fiddled with her hands. She looked up to see that Emily had a grin on her face. “No Emily it’s not-”

“No need to explain y/n whenever we get back to Quantico I will put in both of your personal days.” Emily said as she got up from the table and led the two out of the room. 

“Do you want to go get some dinner since we have an hour to kill?” Luke said as he opened the station door so y/n could walk out of the building. “You could also tell me more about what I am getting myself into going to this wedding.” 

“Yeah, we can do that. I am starving.” 

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

After they sat down at their table, Luke noticed something off about y/n as she looked around the restaurant. He looked around to see what she was looking at, but then suddenly her head snapped back in his direction. 

“Y/n what is the matter? Tell me what you see.” Luke questioned her. 

“Something seems off about the guy in the corner, but I am probably just over reacting. Anyways, what do you want to know about my family?” Y/n answered as she drawed all of her attention back to Luke. 

“Well I know you have one of the richest families in the Quantico area. Anything I shouldn’t say or watch what I say around them?” Luke asked as he took a sip of his lemonade. 

“Well, don’t make smart ass comments, don’t be loud, just act like my mother but in Luke form.” Y/n began. “Wait, do not act like my mother, don’t be a bitch. Basically if you just stand there and nod your head you will be fine.” Y/n laughed at the comment she made about her mother, receiving a laugh from Luke as well. 

“Alright, I won’t act like your mom. So, how long has your cousin and her fiance been together?” 

“Oh, they have been friends since highschool. They have probably been dating for years by now.” Y/n said with an eye roll as the waitress brought over their food. While eating y/n saw the strange man from the corner exiting the building. “Luke, he has a gun.” 

“Well, y/n so do we.” Luke said as he took another bite of his lo mein. 

“Luke, he has it hidden in the back of his shirt, and it is the same gun used in the murders.” Y/n said as she got up from the table and Luke followed. “Luke tells the waitress that we will be back in to pay. I am going out to talk to the guy.” With that she walked out of the building to see the man leaning against the side of the building smoking a cigarette. “Hey, do you have a permit to be carrying that firearm sir?” 

“Well hello there pretty lady.” The man said as he put out his cigarette. Luke walked out of the building right as the man drew his gun and aimed it towards y/n. Luke walked up slowly behind y/n and pointed his gun at the man. “I can take you both out in one shot, now I suggest you let me leave peacefully if you want to get back to your little date.” Both Luke and y/n lowered their weapons and let the man go. 

“If we see that man again. I-” Luke began before y/n cut him off. 

“You won’t do anything.” 

“Y/n he drew his gun on you for asking a question. You expect me to just let that happen?” 

“No, but I had it under control Luke. I am going to go pay the tab and then we can head back to the station to meet with Emily and the team.” Y/n said as she walked back into the restaurant. 

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

The car ride back was silent because y/n was taking a short nap. Luke was going to be honest with himself. He was glad he was going to be spending the week with y/n down in the Bahamas. Maybe she will get the same feelings that he has for her while they are fake dating.  

Once at the station everyone headed out to their designated destinations. It was getting dark and the unsub should be making the call soon. Penelope was on the phone with the team and was keeping track to see when the phone would ping. Y/n was standing next to Luke when she noticed movement in a car. The car looked just like the car they saw the strange man get into at the restaurant. 

“Luke over there. Penelope, have you got anything yet?” Y/n whispered as she crouched down behind a bench as she moved closer to the car. 

“Y/n that is him. Be safe my angels.” Penelope said before she hung up. The team slowly moved in and circled the vehicle. 

“FBI get out of the vehicle and keep your hands in the air!” Luke yelled as he moved toward the drivers side of the car. The Unsub jumped out and took off in a sprint. Luke followed him down the street. 

“Agent Alvez I have a clean shot. Do you want me to take the shot?” One of the sharpshooters asked Luke. 

“No don’t shoot, I repeat Agent do not shoot!” 

“Agent Alvez are you sure?”

“Yes.” Luke groaned as he caught up to the unsub. The unsub had nowhere to go; he ran into a dead end alleyway with no escape plan. Luke knocked the guy down to the ground and cuffed him. Y/n caught up and helped Luke put the man in the car. 

“I figured I would see you around again pretty lady.” The unsub said as Luke shoved him into the back of the officer’s car. Y/n shivered over the fact that this awful man called her a pretty lady. 

“Hey Luke are you okay? That was a rough fall to the ground.” Y/n said as Luke walked over to where she was standing. 

“Yeah. I will ice it when we get back to the motel room. Speaking of the motel room, do you want to head back now? It is getting late and Emily wants to leave before 7 tomorrow.” The two of them walked over to their vehicle and drove back to the motel. Y/n asked Luke if he wanted her to drive but he insisted on driving. 

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

Two weeks had passed and the team had been fortunate to have been doing desk work since the Lewiston case. Today was the day y/n and Luke were leaving for the wedding. They face timed the night before so they could make sure they had everything they needed for the trip. Luke arrived at y/n’s house earlier in the morning so they could leave for their flight. Y/n was tired and slept through her alarm so she didn’t hear Luke knocking on the door. 

“Y/n we are going to be late if you don’t hurry up.” Luke said as he stood outside of her door. A few minutes passed and she still didn't answer, then he remembered that she gave him a key to his apartment. “Y/n, I am coming inside.” Luke announced as he opened the door. He saw her bags on the floor in the living room but didn’t see her anywhere. He walked around for a bit looking for her, until he found her sleeping in her bed. He has seen her sleeping many times before but never in her own bed. He couldn’t help but smile. She looked so peaceful and he hated that he had to wake her up. He walked over to the bed and crouched down next to it. “Y/n we have to leave.” He said in a soothing voice trying to wake her up. It worked and she sat straight up. 

“Oh god, I slept through my alarm. Let me brush my hair and we can go. I am so sorry Luke.” Y/n groaned as she got out of bed and ran into her bathroom. 

“No no take your time, I figured we could stop and get coffee before we leave anyway, so no rush.” Luke said as he walked back into her living room. “I am going to take your bags down to my car y/n I will be back up then.” 

A few minutes later y/n met Luke down at his car. She helped him load her bags into the trunk and backseat of his car and then sat in the passenger seat. Luke readjusted some things in the trunk and then joined her in the car.

“I am so sorry Luke, I really didn’t mean to oversleep.” Y/n sighed as she rested her head against the car window. 

“Hey Y/n it is fine, really it is. You can sleep some more, so you will be rested for the trip.” Luke said with a smile as he rubbed her shoulder. The touch of his hand caused y/n to blush. She was so glad to have Luke as her friend, but she didn’t want to admit to herself that she had some feelings for him. 

“Alright, thank you for coming Luke. Honestly, what would I do without you?” Y/n chuckled as she shut her eyes. Luke laughed with her and continued his drive to the airport. 

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

Thirty minutes later Luke pulled into the parking lot at the airport. Their flight would leave in about twenty minutes. He figured he would let y/n sleep for about five more minutes so she would be well rested for their long flight. 

“Hey y/n we are here.” Luke said softly as he opened the passenger door. Y/n stretched her arms and yawned. Luke didn’t know if he had ever seen something so beautiful before. The way the sun shined in her tired eyes and her smile. He wished she felt the same way about him as he felt about her. Y/n got out of the car and grabbed her bags from the back of the car. She noticed someone standing outside of the airport, someone familiar. As they got closer she realized it was her mother. 

“Oh my god, Alvez hold my hand.” Y/n mumbled as she reached for his hand. He accepted her urgent offer and took her hand in his. “See that woman standing over there. That is my mother.” Luke nodded his head in response to her statement. Once they made their way over to the front of the airport y/n’s mother greeted them with a smile. 

“Hello dear, you must be the mystery boyfriend, my daughter has been talking about for a while.” Y/n’s mother said as she gave Luke a hug. Y/n just rolled her eyes. “What is your name, darling?” Y/n’s mother asked as she started to walk into the building.

“My name is Luke, it is a pleasure to meet you. Y/n always says such nice things about you.” Luke answered with a smile as he opened the door for y/n and her mother.

“Wait, you are Luke? The one that works with my daughter?” Y/n’s mother said in shock. Luke nodded in response. “Wow, whenever she is over she never stops talking about you. I was going to be a bit upset if you weren’t the mystery man.” Y/n’s face got bright red and she looked down at the floor of the airport. Luke gave y/n a soft grin to let her know it was okay. “Well, Luke, I apologize you couldn’t bring your dog with. Roxy is her name, correct?” Luke was surprised, y/n did talk about him a lot. 

“Yes ma’am that is her name. It is fine, she is being watched by one of our coworkers while we are away.” He answered with a smile as he loaded the bags into the bag cart. After some more small talk with y/n’s mother they all boarded the plane and they were off to The Bahamas.

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

Six hours later the plane landed in The Bahamas. Half way through the flight y/n had fallen asleep on Luke’s shoulder. He saw her mother taking photos of them, and to be honest he didn’t mind. Luke was glad to see that y/n was finally getting some rest, since their job didn’t allow a normal sleep schedule. After they got off of the plane they received their bags and headed to the hotel room. 

After they got to the hotel Luke helped y/n’s mother take her luggage to her room, and then joined y/n in their room. When he entered the room he was surprised to see her nowhere in sight. He laid his bags on the bed and that is when he noticed she was standing on the balcony. He sat on the bed and took a photo of her. He figured he would use it as his wallpaper while they were on vacation. Y/n’s skin glowed in the evening sunlight, her hair was moving with the wind, she was honestly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He got up out of bed and walked out to join her. 

“Hey sunshine.” Luke said as he hugged her from behind. Y/n lifted her head up to look at him. 

“You know you don’t have to be so nice to me when my family isn’t around.” She muttered as she turned to face him. 

“I know, but how could I not be nice to you?” He said with a chuckle. Y/n punched him on the shoulder and walked back into the hotel room and flopped on the bed. 

“Well “babe” what do you want to watch on tv?” Y/n asked him sarcastically and patted the spot next to her on the bed. 

“Whatever you want to watch is fine, and I am not Roxy, you don’t need to pat the bed for me to come over.” Luke replied as he sat down next to her gently. She smirked at his reply and started to look for a channel on the tv. “So y/n, what does your dress look like?” 

“It is a tea length lavender dress, with a lace pattern on the front. I hope whatever you chose matches well.” Y/n said as she laid back and rested her head on Luke’s chest. Luke felt his face getting hot and he could tell it was most likely red. He never imagined that y/n would use his chest as a pillow. “Well there is nothing good on tv. I think we should just go to bed because we have, well at least I do, a long day tomorrow. My cousin is already mad I didn’t come to the rehearsal tonight.” She said as she turned off the tv. Luke yawned and that was their que that it was time to get some real rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Luke awoke to the sound of y/n moving around the hotel room. He laid there and watched her move in and out of the bathroom. She eventually noticed that he was watching her. “Do you like what you see Alvez?” He nodded and sat up in the bed. “I am going to need your help then.” y/n said as she grabbed her dress and walked back into the bathroom. After she shut the door Luke got up and got on his suit for the wedding. He left the tie in his suitcase and kept the top two buttons on his dress shirt open. He turned to look in the mirror and caught a glance of y/n as she opened the bathroom door. She glared at him and waved for him to come over. “Keep your mouth shut Luke. I know what you are going to say. Now can you help me zipper the back of this thing.” 

“Y/n… You look beautiful.” He said as he zippered up the back of her dress making sure she didn’t get any of her hair in the way. 

“Well, this will be the only time you ever see me in a dress because it never happens.” Y/n told him with a chuckle. “Well we better get going, I don't want to tick off my cousin anymore than I already do.” Y/n grabbed her bag and headed to the door. Luke was so glad that y/n chose him to be her fake boyfriend and not anyone else. He was glad that he was able to have some alone time with her and was going to be able to treat her like he has always wanted to, plus he figured there is no one on their team here to make fun of them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Y/n’s mother met them in the hallway and her jaw dropped as she saw Luke and y/n standing together by the elevator. Luke heard her mother approaching and figured now would be an appropriate time to kiss y/n. 

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” Luke asked quietly so her mother wouldn’t hear. Y/n could feel the heat from her stomach rising up to her chest, she could feel Luke’s lips getting closer and closer to her’s. She knew her mother was standing behind them watching their every move, but she didn’t care. Kissing Luke was the only thing on her mind. The moment his lips touched hers y/n felt a sudden feeling of relief. This kiss lasted a lot longer than the one in the car outside of the coroner's office. When Luke pulled away y/n was a bit upset, but she knew there was more to come. “We will finish that later.” Luke whispered in her ear before he hit the elevator button to go down. 

“Yes, yes we will Agent Alvez.”

Taglist- @scandinavian-punk @hotchsbabygirl @haleymalaffey @queer-rambling @gravelyhumerus @luke-alvez @thelukealvez @sunlightgalaxy

#sunny writes #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #luke alvez #luke alvez x y/n #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #luke alvez fanfiction #luke alvez fic #luke alvez fluff #luke alvez angst #fanfic #fanfiction

[winterscaptain]

three’s company.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: and here we are! the final installment of the ajf 100 arc. this takes place right after mosley lane in season five, and from here on i promise we’ll see some happier days :) i can’t thank you all enough for coming on this adventure with me, as hard and fraught as it was. 

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! (the pieces stand alright on their own as well, for the most part!) one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 1.6k warnings: none!

summary: “let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.” - william shakespeare, the tempest

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

“You’d never believe it, Hales. The sass on your kid these days is unreal.” A laugh leaves you as you lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “He pulled one right out of your book the other day with Aaron when he told him it was time to come in out of the snow...” 

It’s just one of those Saturdays where you needed to talk to her. Not for any particular reason, but just knowing that if this was any other timeline, the two of you would sit out in the breakfast nook in the big house, watching the snow fall and the sun set as the February evening wore on. 

There’s a crunch of snow under day-off boots behind you, but you ignore him and continue talking, just as you would if she were here. 

“We miss you. I think the weirdest thing so far was skipping your Christmas present. Had it all wrapped and everything and then I remembered you wouldn’t be there.” You look up, taking a little breath. “Had a good cry about that one.” 

“It is getting better though, all things considered…” You trail off, not sure what to say. Sharing silence with a headstone is a little less companionable than the alternative. 

It wasn’t a lie, though. The grief didn’t overwhelm you now like it did those first weeks. It sometimes clocked you at the oddest of times, drawing a few tears (or more than a few) or a little smile. 

Sometimes, both. 

You huff a little laugh to yourself. “We had a really good case outcome last week. Found three kids who’d been missing, got them all back to their parents. It was just one of those that reminded us why we do it, you know?”

Aaron sits beside you without a word. 

“And you’d be proud of Aaron, Haley. He’s saddling the rest of us with the paperwork and going home early, most nights. It’s kind of impressive. Though, I know it’ll wear off and he’ll be back on his bullshit soon enough.” 

There’s a snort from beside you, and you finally acknowledge him. 

“Tell me it isn’t true and I’ll take it back,” you say, looking over at him.

He shrugs. “Can’t. But then again, you’d never lie to Haley and you’d never lie to the dead, so we’re two for two, there.”

You smile at him for a moment, gesturing vaguely to the headstone. “We were just catching up.”

“Of course. I thought it would be one of those days.”

“Where’s the kiddo?” You look over your shoulder, halfway expecting Jack to be playing somewhere in the snow. 

“Helping Jess with dinner.” He addresses Haley’s headstone. “Hear that, Hales? Your son is helping with dinner, now.”

You both pause, acknowledging the laughter you know you’d get if she were here. 

Looking over at him, you wryly note, “Yeah, see, Jack might be helping with dinner, but you still aren’t. What’s your excuse?”

“I have been sent to bring you to the apartment for dinner by request of my son and my sister.”

You tut at him with a little smile “Nice to see Jess has been promoted.”

He rolls his eyes. 

+++

The first time the entire team gathers at Dave’s after the New Year is a refreshing return to something that feels halfway normal.

You’ve got Henry in your lap so JJ can actually eat something. He’s messing around with one of the rubik’s-cube-like toys Spencer got him for Christmas. To everyone’s delight, the novelty of them has yet to wear off and they’ve saved the entire Jareau-La Montagne household a couple of meltdowns. 

“How’s he holding up?” JJ asks between bites.

You glance over at Hotch, on the floor with one leg outstretched and the other tucked underneath him. Jack’s holding his attention, explaining some advanced maneuver with his army men. “He’s doing alright. Better every day, I think, but there will always be bad days.” 

She hums. “And Jack?”

You shrug, catching Henry’s toy before it can fall from your lap. “He’s still adjusting, of course, but Jess is doing a great job at keeping up with his routines.” 

“Actually, that’s really all kids need at Jack’s age, other than socialization and physical affection,” Spencer says. “The retention of a consistent routine is key to development after the toddler stages of childhood.” 

You toss a grin over your shoulder. “Thanks, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s just true.” 

JJ huffs a laugh and puts her napkin on the table. You pass Henry back to her, and he’s more than happy to tuck back against her chest. 

Dave, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder, takes your plate. You follow him back into the kitchen, turning the water on and starting on the silverware while he tackles the glasses. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

Your brow furrows. “Yeah. Why?”

He glances over his shoulder. “Just not used to seeing you so far from Aaron, is all. Fifty feet is quite a far distance for a shadow to cover, don’t you think?” 

With an eye roll: “Give me a break, Rossi.”

He raises his soapy hands as if to surrender, but you know he’s not even close to done. “I’m just sayin.’” He relents after a moment. “There’s only so much the rest of us can do for him.” 

“What do you mean?” You direct your question at the dishes, remaining studiously focused on your task. 

Unlike you, he pauses, turning square to face you. “For a pair of profilers...You know what? It’s not worth it.”

+++

Aaron stamps the snow off his boots and hangs his coat and scarf on the hook by the door, fresh from an afternoon of errands and paperwork at the office. 

Belatedly, he realizes he missed the fort in the living room when he first came through the door. The couch cushions and dining chairs have all been arranged in an elaborate configuration, supporting the duvet stolen from Aaron’s bed and a fair few flat sheets from the hall closet. All the linens are secured with carefully knotted neckties, or pinned together with some spare clothespins you found God-knows-where.  

Creeping forward, he picks up the corner of what he imagines is a door flap by design. 

In the dark of the fort, he finds you and Jack curled together on your sides around the portable DVD player. Jack’s out like a light - his little hand pressed against his cheek where it rests on your arm. You’re awake, waiting for him. 

Aaron finds your eyes. You smile a little and keep your voice at a whisper. “He’s only been sleeping about twenty minutes or so. He wore himself out playing architect, so I figured a quick nap wouldn’t keep him up too late.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Aaron assures you in a whisper with an equally small smile. “I’m just glad he had fun today.” 

“Yeah.” You arc an arm over Jack’s shoulders and brush at the feathered hair on his forehead. Returning your gaze to Aaron, you playfully (and quietly) ask, “Want to join us for another movie, or are you too old for stuff like this?”

He shakes his head, a real, genuine smile on his face. It’s the first one you’ve seen in a while and it warms you beyond measure. 

When he stoops inside, he rests his head on your calf and his hand on his son. You gingerly stretch for another DVD, and Aaron takes over the logistics after you hand it over - replacing the disk, lowering the volume, and starting the next movie. 

In the quiet darkness, you think of Haley. A few tears slip out of the corners of your eyes, landing between your temple and your arm. You don’t dare move for fear of waking Jack, but it’s as if Aaron can read your mind. He lifts his head just so, finding your lashes inexplicably wet in the light from the screen. 

Your eyes flicker down to his and your close-lipped smile is shaky. 

His eyes narrow. What’s wrong? 

Nothing. You shake your head just a little. I just miss her. 

You watch the inside of his lip pinch between his teeth as his mouth presses into a thin line. 

A trembling breath leaves you as you refocus on the screen, your fingers playing with the hem of Jack’s sleeve as he sleeps. 

Aaron watches you for a moment. He thinks perhaps you are the only person alive who understood what was between him and Haley - the love, the tiffs, the history. Somehow, you managed to see right through them, right through him, right through her, to the heart of it. 

He’s sure you love his son like your own. He remembers the desperate way you held his son when you found him in that trunk. It was that day - when he saw the panic flash across your face when you realized you hadn’t seen Jack, hadn’t found him - he realized that you’d kill, risk life and limb, drop everything, for Jack. 

That day tested you as well. If you thought too long about it, you could still taste the metallic tang of anger in the back of your mouth when you thought about Foyet getting his hands on Jack. It was that overwhelming flood of emotion that brought you to the same conclusion. 

Now, the secure weight of Jack in your arms lulls you into a kind of bone-deep peace. 

You let your eyes close, falling into the sheer comfort of the moment. After a few minutes, Aaron follows suit.

+++

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

[gamergirl929]

You’ve Got A Bad Reputation (And I Won’t Be A Part Of It) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Anonymous Request: I just need me some thot alex in my life!

Some thot Alex with some angst sprinkled innnnn!

You had been with the NWSL for a short time, and were quickly noticed by the USWNT coach, Vlatko Andonovski, the man calling you up almost immediately.  

Your Chicago Red Star’s teammates were incredibly welcoming, Alyssa Naeher, Julie Ertz and Tierna Davidson happy that you’d gotten invited to camp along with them.  

“You’re gonna love it, everyone is so sweet.” Julie grins as you make your way onto the bus, the USWNT members glancing your way, but you only notice a certain pair of blue orbs on you, their owner smirking.  

Alex Morgan had a bit of a... Reputation per say.  

The cocky USWNT veteran forward wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted, and that INCLUDED women.  

She���d built a sort of reputation over the years, being seen with countless women, but never seen with them again.  

Alex wasn’t a one-woman kind of girl either, the cocky soccer player gaining the attention of anyone and everyone.

Julie’s eyes narrow, sending Alex a glare, a glare that Alyssa also shoots her way, the forward clearing her throat as she turns away, but still, she watches you out of the corner of her eye.  

Julie keeps her blue orbs on her, eyes narrowed.  

Unbeknownst to you, Julie leans towards her, growling through her teeth.  

“Don’t you even think about it.”  

Alex smirks, sending the blonde a wink and she groans, causing you to turn your head, but instead of looking at her, your eyes lock with the forward’s the woman grinning.  

She sends you a wink before turning away, your cheeks blood red as you stare at her profile.  

The second you turn away Julie leans back in towards Alex, who simply smirks as she looks at the blonde who snarls at her.

“I will literally kill you Alex Morgan and make it look like an accident.”

                                                           ***

Apparently, Alex didn’t put any stock in the threat, because the second she’s able she’s making her way towards you.  

“Hey.” She grins charmingly and you clear your throat.  

“H-Hi.”  

Alex smirks, eyeing you intently.  

“You always so shy?” She teases and you clear your throat, shuffling from foot to foot.  

“S-S-Sometimes...” You stammer, cheeks flushing when Alex nonchalantly tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes as wide as saucers and cheeks blood red.  

A ball suddenly flies out of nowhere, nearly smacking Alex in the side of the head but she ducks, the two of you turning in the direction the ball had come from.  

Julie Ertz stares your way, her arms crossed across her chest as she shoots Alex with a deadly glare.  

The forward shrugs, sending her a smirk.  

“A little close JJ.” Her lips split into a grin and Julie snarls.  

“OH, I can get closer.”  

Your eyes narrow as they flick from Alex to Julie and back, the forward giving you a wink before she rushes back on field.  

“We’ll talk more later.”  

You nod, dumbly waving at the forward.  

“Ye-Yeah, s-sure.”  

                                                           ***

“Alexandra Patricia Morgan.”  

Alex turns around, a single brow arched as Julie advances on her, scowling.  

“Yes?” Alex asks innocently and Julie growls.  

“Y/N is OFF LIMITS.” The blonde spits and Alex shrugs, glancing at you from across field.  

Your eyes widen when you realize you’d been caught stating, your attention snapping away from the two USWNT veterans.  

Julie gives Alex’s ear a flick.  

“I’m serious. I’ll have Alyssa snap you in half.” Julie nods down field where Alyssa is standing eyes narrowed as she glares at the forward.  

Alex glances back at you, again finding your eyes on her and Julie.  

“But then Y/N will miss me.” She shrugs and Julie snarls angrily, her head hanging as Alex walks off, towards you.  

“THIS ISN’T OVER MORGAN.”  

                                                           ***

Julie can’t even think about sitting with you fast enough to beat Alex, who plops down right beside you, a smirk on her face as her blue orbs lock with Julie’s. Her eyes narrow as she growls, grabbing Alyssa and pulling her into the seats beside you and Alex, she and the goalie staring Alex’s way, eyes narrowed.  

You meanwhile are absolutely trembling, THE Alex Morgan sitting beside you, the woman wearing a charming smile, her blue orbs sparkling as she turns to you.  

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” She grins and you shake your head, mouth hanging open.  

“Ye- I mean, no!” You practically shout, turning away with bright red cheeks.  

Alex giggles, your heart skipping a beat.  

“You’re absolutely adorable.”  

Your eyes widen as you stare at Alex, the woman’s grin further widening nearly splitting her face in half.  

“Do I make you nervous?” She whispers, leaning towards you and you chuckle anxiously.  

“Ummm...”  

Alex giggles.  

“Sounds like a yes to me.”  

You notice the way Alex’s blue orbs dart your way every few seconds, the woman grinning at the sight of your blush.  

Soon after you’re stopping in front of the hotel, your teammates filing out until only you, Alex, Julie and Alyssa are left, the forward grinning at the two Chicago Red Star’s players.  

“I would trip you if we didn’t need you on field.” Julie growls, only earning a wink from the smirking forward.  

Before you can get out of your seat Julie is moving into the aisle, she and Alyssa trapping you in between them.  

“Is something wrong?” You frown, noting the look on both of their faces and they hum, Alyssa practically throwing you over her shoulder when you get out of the bus.  

“Hey!” You yell, wiggling in her hold, everyone of your teammates glancing your way, Alex giggling as she watches you wiggle in Alyssa’s hold.  

“You’re coming with us.” Julie says sternly and you frown, your bottom lip jutting out.

“What did I do?” You pout as Julie and Alyssa head into the elevator, the doors eventually shutting.  

“You didn’t do anything, no pouting.” Julie pokes the tip of your nose and you huff.  

“You need to stay away from Alex Morgan.” Alyssa says and your brows furrow.  

“Why?”  

Julie sighs.  

“She has a bit of a... Reputation.”  

You snort.  

“Yeah, I know that, but she’s...”

Julie groans.

“Trust me Y/N, stay away.”  

                                                           ***

It’s nearly a week later when it’s time for team bonding, which in THIS case, means movie night.  

You watch with wide eyes as Alex flops down on the bed beside you, the forward grinning, Julie’s warnings going in one of her ears and out the other.  

“You alright?” She asks, nudging you and you smile softly, cheeks flushed.  

“Ye-Yeah, I’m okay.”  

Alex grins, shaking her head.  

“I guess it will take some time to get you to not be shy around me.” She giggles and you bite your bottom lip.  

“Maybe eventually.”  

Alex smiles, her brows furrowing when she feels her heart skip a beat, the feeling completely and utterly foreign. She glances your way, smiling softly when you laugh at something Emily was doing.  

She shakes her head, spotting Julie glaring her way, eyes narrowed and she shrugs, smiling.  

“I will murder you.” Julie draws a line across her throat with her thumb and Alex snickers.  

“We’ll see.”  

                                                           ***

Alex’s eyes widen when halfway through the movie you slump against her, fast asleep. She glances at you, smiling softly when your lips part, in a soft snore.  

Julie watches with a furrowed brow as Alex gently guides your head to her lap, the woman’s fingers running through your hair as you sleep.  

Alex, who’d usually only had one goal in mind, had started to feel something for you that she hadn’t felt for anyone in a long time, or ever.  

She shook her head, she’d literally just met you, there was NO possible way she felt anything like that for you.  

                                                           ***

At least that’s what she told herself.  

As the weeks turned into months Alex continues to lay on the charm, and of course, you continue to respond shyly, always stammering when you talk to the forward.  

That same forward who was again flopping into the seat beside you on the bus, turning your way with a grin.  

“Seat taken?” She asks and you clear your throat, shaking your head.  

“N-Nope.”

You’re thankful when Alex turns away, her attention on her phone, but it doesn’t last long considering when you glance her way you realize she’s looking at photos of herself from her recent photoshoot, photos of her in a bikini.  

Alex hums aloud.  

“Do you think the photographer did a good job?” She asks innocently, holding her phone out to you and your mouth falls open, your cheeks and the tips of your ears immediately turning blood red.  

“Uh-uh... I-I mean...” You swallow hard, glancing at Alex who is watching you with a cocky smirk.  

“Is that a yes?” She asks and you clear your throat, watching the way Julie and Alyssa glare your and Alex’s way.  

“Ye-Yeah, I mean, of-of course.” You stammer and Alex grins, leaning towards you.  

“I thought you’d like them.” She winks and you chuckle awkwardly.  

“Ye-Yeah...”

Alex grins, her heart skipping a beat as you nervously rub the back of your neck, your cheeks and ears still bright red.  

She shakes her head.  

“You’re so cute when you blush.” She thinks, though when you turn towards her, eyes wide, her own eyes widen.  

Alex’s cheeks flush before she abruptly turns away, biting her bottom lip.  

Unbeknownst to you, a number of your teammates have their eyes on the situation, Kelley humming.  

“Is Alex blushing?” She whispers to Emily who nods.  

Julie and Alyssa share a glance.  

“Alex Morgan? Blushing?” Alyssa snorts. “Is this the Twilight Zone?”  

Julie hums, her eyes narrowed as she stares at Alex’s profile, the woman nervously glancing your way.  

“I don’t think it is...”  

                                                           ***

“What’s your game here Morgan?” Julie asks, her hands on her hips and Alex’s brows furrow.  

“What game?” She hums and Julie rolls her eyes.  

“With Y/N...”  

Alex turns to her with a smile, her cheeks dusted pink.  

“Uhh, nothing, no game.” She shuffles from foot to foot, Julie’s brows knitted in confusion as she watches the forward’s demeanor change.  

“It doesn’t seem that way...”  

Alex sighs.  

“Al?! Can you-

“COMING!” She screeches, rushing across field towards Kelley, her brown orbs wide as the forward runs at her so fast, Christen’s eyes widen.  

“What was that about?” Alyssa snorts as she makes her way towards Julie, the blonde shaking her head.  

“I have no idea...”  

Though in the back of her mind she can’t help but think, if maybe Alex wasn’t pursuing you for her ‘typical’ reasons but maybe something else.  

Julie shakes her head.  

“No, that can’t be...”  

Alyssa glances her away, a brow arched.  

“Can’t be what?”  

                                                           ***

“Y/N, I just think-

“GUYS.” You yell, silencing both Alyssa and Julie, Tierna holding her hands up from where she’s sitting.  

“Hey, I’m just here. Julie called a Red Star’s meeting.” She shakes her head and you nod.  

“You’re safe.”  

She holds a thumb up.  

“Yayyy!”  

“Now for you two!” You turn to Julie and Alyssa, the two sharing a glance.  

“I know you’re trying to look out for me, but I can take care of myself...” Your eyes narrow, Julie and Alyssa sharing a glance, their heads hanging in shame.  

“I love you both, but I’m old enough to make my own decisions...”  

Julie takes a deep breath, exhaling comically loud, her bottom lip jutted out.  

“No pouts.” You point to her and the woman smiles.  

“I know, I just, I worry about you, I know you’re nearly as old as we are...”  

“But you’re the team baby...” Alyssa shrugs and you snort.  

“That’s Tierna.”  

“I thought I was safe!” She gasps and you snort.  

“Back to what I was saying, I can make my own choices...”  

Julie hums, a smirk stretching across her face.  

“I imagine this has something to do with a certain forward we all know?” She asks, her arms crossed across her chest.  

Your cheeks flush, and you clear your throat.  

“N-N-No, not at all.” You stammer and Tierna smirks.  

“Sounds like it.”  

“Remember how I said you were safe?” You smirk, the younger girls' eyes widening.  

“Yes...?” She swallows hard and you smirk.  

“I lied.”  

You tackle the girl to the floor, the two of you playfully fighting as Julie and Alyssa look on.  

“Didn’t she just say she was old enough to make her own decisions?” Alyssa pinches the bridge of her nose and Julie nods.  

“Yep. She did.”  

                                                           ***

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest as you drop down onto a bench in the locker room.  

You were starting, which you hadn’t for the first few games, so needless to say, you were incredibly nervous.

A tap on the shoulder nearly makes you jump out of your skin, you flip around, cheeks flushing when you see Alex standing behind you.  

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything, that is until she reaches up and plucks your air pods out.  

“Can you hear me now?” She giggles and you smile bashfully, your legs bouncing.  

“Ye-Yeah, I guess taking those out helped.”  

Alex shakes her head, surprising you immensely when she moves to stand behind you, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her chin resting on the top of your head.  

“You’ll do great Y/N, you’re incredibly talented, everyone can see that from your performance with the Red Stars, now just show them how great you are at a national level.”  

You hum, leaning back against Alex, the forward smiling as she moves to sit behind you, straddling the bench as she holds you against her chest.  

She pops your earbuds back in and holds you close, your body sagging, no longer tense with nerves as you let yourself get lost in the music, Alex’s arms around you and the feel of her body heat behind you just a plus.  

“Remember...” Alex jumps slightly at the feel of a whisper in her ear, blue orbs wide when Julie peeks around her shoulder.  

“If I hurt her, you’ll kill me?” She snorts and Julie gives her a thumbs up.  

“Atta girl.”  

                                                           ***

Everything Alex had done in the locker room made your nerves fade away, so much so that in the first few minutes of your first game, you assisted on a goal, firing a beautiful cross that ends up at Alex’s feet, the woman finishing it off, sinking it passed the fingertips of the Mexican goal keeper.  

Alex sprints across field and you jump up, the woman wrapping her arms tightly around you as she laughs.  

“I told you, you could do it.” Alex grins as you bury your face in her neck and beam, the others patting your back and Alex’s.  

“Yeah, you did.” You pull back with a grin, slipping from Alex’s hold, though the forward doesn’t go far, giving your shoulder’s a pat.  

“Let’s go get another.”  

“Or a couple.”

                                                           ***

By the end of the game you have 3 assists, all 3 resulting in goals courtesy of Alex Morgan’s foot, the forward getting a hat trick with your help.  

The final whistle blows and Alex grins, making a beeline straight for you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.  

“Yeah, you’ll be starting a lot more often.”  

Suddenly Kelley runs in from out of nowhere, diving on the two of you who have to catch her.  

“Let’s celebrate!”  

You weren’t sure what REAL celebrating with the USWNT was like, but you were about to find out.  

                                                           ***

The club’s music was LOUD, so loud in fact you couldn’t hear ANYTHING Tobin was saying, leaning closer and closer until she was practically screaming straight in your ear.  

“You don’t take me as the dancing type.” She yells and you snort, shaking your head.  

“I’m definitely not.”  

“Oh, but if Alex asks, I bet you’ll dance.” Emily teases, she and the other babies of the team giggling.  

“Shut up.” You pout, your cheeks bright red.  

Suddenly Alex materializes from nowhere, the woman grabbing your hand.  

“Dance with me.” She grins and your cheeks flush, glancing over your shoulder at Tobin and her squad every single one of them smirking.  

“Y/N would literally do ANYTHING for Alex, wouldn’t she?” Christen asks Tobin, the forward nodding.  

“Totally.”  

Alex giggles as you stiffen, your heart racing in your chest.  

“You’re so cute, get over here.” She grins, pulling you against her, spinning around so her back is to your front.  

The music is loud as the two of you dance, the feel of her against your front and the dancing sweaty bodies around you moving you to grab her hips and pull her back against you, the woman biting her lip as she grinds against your front.  

Your breath hitches when Alex slips her hand behind your head and pulls you forward until your chin settles on her shoulder, the woman turning towards you as you both dance.  

Your eyes widen as Alex’s lips brush your cheek, the woman rolling her hips in a way that makes your hips stutter.  

It’s what happens next though that makes you still entirely.  

You feel his hands before you feel him against you, your eyes widening as you abruptly flip around to face an incredibly tall, and obviously drunk man.  

“Come on baby let’s dance.” He grins, only for Alex to put herself between you and him.  

“Back the fuck up, she’s with me.” She snarls and he smirks.  

“Two for one, I like it.”  

Alex rolls her eyes, shoving him back before she grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd, not towards the table, but outside.  

“Wh-Where are we going?” You stutter, the woman dragging you out of sight before shoving you against a wall.  

“Bastard thought he could touch what was mine.” She snarls.

Your eyes widen as Alex’s hands rest on either side of your head, palms splayed on the wall behind you.  

“Yours?” You ask, licking your lips, your eyes darting from her blue orbs, to her lips and back.  

“Yeah, mine.”  

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest.  

Alex’s eyes widen when you grab her, flipping her around so her back is now against the wall.  

“Goddamn it, Alex.” You huff, the woman’s eyes tripling in size.  

“I want to kiss you but you have a reputation and I don’t want to be a PART of that reputation. Get your shit together Morgan, then kiss me.”  

Alex watches you go, mouth a gape as you walk off in the direction of the hotel.  

“Well damn.”  

                                                           ***

Needless to say, when Alex tells Julie and Alyssa, you’d left the club they aren’t happy, the two practically running down the street until they catch up.  

“Y/N!” Julie yells and you still, glancing over your shoulder.  

“How the hell did you catch me?”  

Julie points at Alyssa, sliding off the woman’s back.  

“Alyssa carried me.”

The goalie holds a hand up, panting.  

“I need a minute.” She pants, her hands on her knees as you pat her back.  

“Why did you leave? What the hell happened?” Julie asks, cupping your cheeks and you huff.  

“Alex didn’t tell you?” You ask and Julie’s eyes narrow.  

“Alyssa, take me back to the club!” She yells, the goalie looking at her in wide eyed terror.  

You shake your head, flailing your arms.  

“No! No! I told her I wanted to kiss her but I didn’t want to be part of her list of trysts!” You yell, the blonde’s eyes widening.  

She looks at you for a moment before patting your shoulders.  

“Maybe we should’ve let you take over a long time ago.”  

Alyssa nods, wrapping an arm around both of your shoulders.  

“Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”  

She ducks down so Julie can get on her back, but you shake your head.  

“No, I got this. You literally ran like 3 miles.”  

Alyssa scoffs.  

“Child’s play.”  

                                                           ***

Unfortunately, Alex doesn’t see you after that, the woman begrudgingly heading towards her hotel room, but when she gets there, she realizes she has an audience, more than just Kelley, who she was rooming with.  

“They forced their way in...” Kelley shrugs, as Alex eyes not only Christen and Tobin, but Mallory, Sam, Emily, Lindsey and Rose, each of them eyeing her intensely.  

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Alex says nervously, the mob of women all sharing a glance.  

“What happened to Y/N?” Christen asks and Kelley hums.  

“You know I was wondering that myself...” She says as she kicks her shoes off, nearly taking out Emily when the shoe goes flying.  

“You could’ve killed me!”  

“BACK ON TOPIC.” Christen yells, everyone jumping in fear.  

“She told me she didn’t want to be a part of my reputation and told me to get my shit together.”  

Everyone is silently for a minute before they all nod, speaking at roughly the same time.  

“Well damn.”  

Alex rolls her eyes.  

“Exactly what I said.”  

                                                           ***

The following morning the two of you don’t talk, but the second she gets the chance she swipes your bag, carrying it onto the bus with a small smile.  

You shake your head, following her with a blush.  

You plop down in the seat where she’d placed your bag, a seat that you noticed wasn’t with her, something that tells you she heard you and is giving you the space, you want.  

Alex gives you a grin before you turn away, taking a deep breath.  

Maybe she’d gotten the message that you didn’t want to be another one of her flings, at least you hope she did.  

                                                           ***

Practice is much the same, you and Alex clicking much like you had in the game against Mexico, getting a number of goals passed Alyssa, the woman pointing at her eyes before pointing at Alex.  

You would be remissed to mention that almost everyone’s eyes are you, making you aware of the fact that they must ALL know what happened last night.  

“You okay kid?” You jump as Ashlyn slips an arm around you, the goalie ruffling your hair.  

“I’m okay.” You smile, the blonde nodding as Ali joins the two of you, fixing your hair that her wife just messed up.  

“Is it true you told Alex to stop her thottin?” Megan asks as she joins the three of you and Ali slaps a palm against her forehead.  

You let out a snort, throwing your head back with a belly shaking laugh that has everyone turning your way, Alex grinning at the way you wrap your arms around your middle as you laugh.  

“Ye-Yeah, pretty much.”  

Megan ruffles your hair, Ali scowling as she AGAIN fixes your hair.  

“We better get back to practice.” You shrug and Megan nods, jumping on Ashlyn’s back, the blonde shaking her head as she carries her onto the field.  

Ali glances at you, shaking her head.  

“I swear to God, those two...”  

                                                           ***

It’s when practice ends that things change.  

Alex timidly approaches you, again swiping your bag so she can carry it and you don’t have to.  

“I can carry it you know.” You smirk and she shrugs.  

“I know...”  

Alex closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.  

“Look, I want to talk... Not here though...” She turns to you and your eyes widen.

“Maybe we could go for a walk...?” Alex shrugs and you hum, smiling.  

“I think we can do that.”  

Alex stops, biting her bottom lip to stifle a grin, but she can’t, her lips splitting in a dazzling smile.  

You stop when you realize the forward has stopped walking, turning around just in time to catch her throwing a fist in the air, her cheeks a bright red when she realizes you were watching her.  

“Ummm....”  

Alex clears her throat.  

“Th-That’s cool...” She nods, jogging to catch up with you and you laugh.  

“Didn’t look just cool to me.” You wink and she rolls her eyes, cheeks darkening. 

“Shut up.”

                                                           ***

Alex nervously makes her way to the lobby, hoping that you were there and hadn’t decided she wasn’t worth the hassle.

She rounds the corner and immediately stills, a frown pulling the corners of her mouth down when she realizes the lobby is empty. Her shoulders hunch, her head hanging in defeat.  

“What’s eating you Morgan?”  

Alex abruptly turns around, her eyes wide.  

“Y-You’re here.” She mumbles and you nod.  

“Of course, you thought I wouldn’t be?”  

Alex shuffles nervously from foot to foot, shrugging.  

“Maybe?”

You reach for, and gently take Alex’s hand.  

“Why would you think that?” You frown and Alex shrugs, glancing away.  

“Not worth the hassle?”  

You cup her cheek, turning her head until her blue orbs meet your Y/E/C orbs.  

Alex’s eyes widen when your hand slips behind her neck and you pull her down, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  

“You’re not a hassle and if you were you’d be worth every bit of it.”  

Alex’s cheeks flush as you take her hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Ready?”  

Alex’s mouth opens and closes for a minute before she nods.  

“Ready.”  

                                                           ***

You couldn’t really explain how RIGHT it felt to walk hand in hand with Alex Morgan, her fingers slotting perfectly in between yours.  

Every few seconds, you glance at her out of the corner of your eye, realizing that she’s doing the same thing.  

Alex takes a deep breath.  

“I know I haven’t exactly got the best reputation in the NWSL...” Alex murmurs, the two of you stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, to some’s annoyance.  

You pull Alex to a nearby bench, the two of you taking a seat.  

Alex closes her eyes, nervously playing with your fingers, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.  

“I don’t have the best reputation, but I DO care about you, more than I have anyone else...” Alex stares at your and her hands.  

“I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone before... And I just...”  

Alex goes silent, the woman unable to look you in the eye.  

“Alex, look at me.” You whisper, the forward fidgeting nervously.  

“Please?” You beg, seconds later the woman relents, picking her head up, watery blue orbs locking with you Y/E/C’s.  

Your hands leave hers, the woman briefly pouting until you cup her cheeks.  

Alex hums, leaning into your touch.  

“I want to... I want to try this.” You whisper, Alex’s eyes as wide as saucers. “I just can’t be one of your flings Al, I want more with you.”

Alex leans in, her forehead resting against yours.  

“You won’t be... You could never be just a fling Y/N.” She brushes her nose against yours and you smile. “Never.”  

Your tongue swipes against your lips, Y/E/C orbs locked on Alex’s lips as you lean in, Alex closing the gap between you as your lips meet for the first time.  

The kiss is gentle, in no way fueled by lust, but passion, and emotion and something that felt like a new beginning between the two of you.  

Little did you know, it would be the beginning of a journey the two of you would be on for the rest of your lives, a journey you would begin and end...  

Together.  

#uswnt x reader #alex morgan #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

[slowly-writing]

Hometown

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Word count: 2.1K

Requested by anon: hey! Can you do a JJ x reader where the BAU works a case where the reader has to go to her hometown and it brings up some difficult things for her but JJ helps her through it?

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence and a crappy family

“Three women have been found dead in their homes in the last week. Each time the unsub has left an elaborate harddrive at the scene. The locals have been unable to get into them and have requested our help,” Hotch starts the briefing. Everyone looks down at the case files in front of them. You’re all saddened at the brutality of the crimes, but your sharp intake of breath draws all eyes to you.

“You good, y/l/n? It’s bad, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” Morgan says and you shake your head.

“I’m fine,” you snap, and that only confuses them further.

“Obviously you’re not. What’s going on?” Penelope asks and you grit your teeth.

“I said I’m fine Garcia. Just drop it!” There’s a moment of tense silence as everyone tries to process the situation before Hotch continues the briefing. As everyone looks back to the screen JJ grabs your hand under the table. She knows what’s going on, she saw it in the file too. You’re going back to your hometown, and it’s not going to be a nice reunion.

Hotch dismisses the briefing not long after and you dash from the room. Everyone looks to JJ, waiting for her to explain your behavior.

“Spill,” Morgan says and her jaw drops.

“Spill what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tries to blow it off and is met with several simultaneous eye rolls.

“Spill what’s got your girl all riled up. She’s never snapped like that before. Especially not at me,” Garcia states, crossing her arms and pouting slightly and JJ sighs.

“I know, and I know she’s gonna be beating herself up for it. Just, please be gentle,” she knows how upset you’re gonna be with yourself for taking your frustrations out on your team, and she hopes they won’t hold it against you.

“We’re gonna forgive her. We just wanna know what’s going on,” Rossi tells her.

“The case is in her hometown. She’s got some…not so great memories there. I don’t think she’s quite ready to relive them just yet,” the team all nods in understanding. “But it’s coming one way or the other. Come on, I’m sure she’s halfway to the tarmac by now.”

xxxxx

You had your hands shoved in your pockets as you walked into the precinct. You didn’t want anyone to see how tightly your fists were clenched. You shuffled in behind the rest of the BAU. You hadn’t talked to them yet, but they seemed to have an unspoken agreement to form a barrier between you and the locals, but there was only so much they could do.

“Well if it isn’t little Y/n Gardner, what brings you back to our humble town?” You flinch as the cop throws an arm around your shoulder and ruffles your hair. The rest of the team sends you confused looks for the second, and probably not the last, time of the day.

“I’m here for work, Charlie,” you shrug the man off and straighten your hair.

“Always working, aren’t you? Curious, wanting to solve all the mysteries. That curiosity of yours has caused you some problems in the past. Don’t you think it’s time you let up?” The rest of the team senses the anger in his voice and Hotch steps in.

“Regardless of the past, we have a job to do. Could you lead us to where we can set up?” He asks firmly and Charlie smirks.

“Chief Gardener is probably around here somewhere. He could show you,” he’s looking around and you cut him off.

“I know where the conference room is. We’ll get there on our own,” you say, walking toward the room on the other side of the precinct. You open the door, ushering the team inside with a grimace, “we can set up in here.”

The team is full of questions, but they’re also profilers. They know you’re in no mood to open up to them right now, so they shove the curiosity to the back of their minds and focus on the case.

xxxxx

“Alright, let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced to the team. It took everything in you to hold back your groan. Over the last few days you’ve been able to avoid direct contact with local law enforcement. They all had their eyes on you constantly, either sending looks of pity or hate to the girl who divided the town. Mainly you stayed in the conference room. Reid taught you how to build a geographical profile, and you helped Penelope with the computer where you could. You even managed to not be seen by the chief yet, but this briefing would put you right in his line of sight.

You stood up silently and went into the bullpen as Hotch asked the nearest officer to gather everyone. Your plan was to stand in the back and be quiet, but as you saw the man across the room look at you, you realized that wouldn’t be happening.

“The man we’re looking for is-“ Hotch is cut off.

“I wanna hear it from y/n,” the chief says and you clench your jaw.

“Now isn’t the time Jacob. Just shut up and let Agent Hotchner tell you who we’re looking for. The sooner we catch him the sooner I’ll be out of here and you won’t have to worry about me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“And let you ruin another innocent man’s life? I’m not gonna sit by and watch you do to somebody else what you did to dad,” he says, pushing himself off the wall he’s been leaning on and taking a few steps towards you and you snap.

“Dad was a lot of things, but innocent wasn’t one of them,” you can feel yourself losing your cool as you close the gap between the two of you. “He hurt a lot of people, Jake.”

“Oh and you’re quite the reliable source. His bastard daughter. What was it? Daddy didn’t give you enough attention? You had to find another way to get all eyes on you, huh?” he spits out. You’re about to throw a punch, but luckily you’re surrounded by a group of profilers who know you better than anyone. As you go to pull your arm back Derek wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up and quite literally removing you from the situation. When he sets you down a few feet away JJ’s face is in front of yours, her hands on your shoulders.

“Calm down, everything’s alright,” she whispers as you avoid eye contact, brushing her arms off of you.

“I’m fine,” you say for the hundredth time this week and take off, going outside to get some air. You make your way to the back alley, furiously rubbing at your face and trying to stop the tears you can feel building up. JJ is the first one outside and you don’t fight her this time as she pulls you into her arms. You bury your face in her shoulder as the tears start to fall. You’re exhausted from trying to keep it all in, both physically and emotionally, and soon you’re sobbing so hard you’re starting to hyperventilate.

“Hey, look at me, right at me. Just focus on my voice,” JJ says as she pulls away and takes your hand, placing it on her chest. “Just follow my breathing love, you’re okay.”

After a few minutes you’re able to get breathing back in check, and you latch onto JJ again. You hear the door open and your whole body goes rigid, not ready to face Jacob yet.

“Hey, it’s just us. We wanted to check on you,” Spencer’s voice is barely above a whisper, as if talking to a spooked animal.

“I’m okay,” you mumble, pulling away from JJ and wiping the tears away in embarrassment. You still keep a tight grip on her hand, but your gaze is on the floor.

“You don’t have to hide from us. We all get it,” Penelope says and you smile a bit.

“I guess you want an explanation,” you say with a self deprecating laugh, hating that you’ve ended up in this situation.

“Only if you’re ready,” Hotch gives you an out, but you don’t take it.

“No, I want you all to know. It’s just kind of a long story.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, babygirl.” You roll your eyes at Derek’s nickname before speaking again.

“That was my brother in there. He’s a few years older than me. Our dad cheated on his mom with mine when he was six and they had me. My mom died when I was four and I went to go live with my dad. None of them particularly liked me. Ever since I moved in there had been problems between my dad and Jacob’s mom. She pretended I didn’t exist and my dad…well I wished he did. He beat up on me pretty bad, but he was the chief of police, so everyone turned a blind eye. When I was nine I found out my dad was involved in some pretty shady stuff. Drug dealing, embezzlement, you name it he was probably doing it,” you explain and Penelope speaks up.

“How does a nine year old figure that out?” She asks and you look away again. JJ squeezes your hand drawing your eyes to her as she puts the pieces together. You can see the question in her eyes and you just nod, you can do this.

“I uh…I found his stash. I saw some powder in this little bag in his room and I thought it was candy, like a pixie stick or something. So I hid it in my pocket when he wasn’t looking. I was at the station after school, sitting in the conference room actually, when I went to eat it. I poured some on my tongue, the second I tasted it I spit it out. I came running into the bullpen yelling ‘Dad why does your candy taste funny?’ and waving the bag around. He panicked, started screaming at me, calling me every name in the book right there in front of the whole precinct. Half the guys still work here…I still don’t know if it’s the cocaine that I ingested or the fear of having him lose it, probably a bit of both, but I passed out. They had to rush me to the hospital. The one here doesn’t have a pediatric unit so they had to take me to the county one. When an ambulance came in with a little kid and half a dozen cop cars following it, the doctors had some questions. It launched a whole investigation. There was a whole ring here in town and a lot of people went down. It’s not like I was trying to break it apart, I was nine. I wasn’t investigating it. It was an accident but I sure got blamed. I had to testify at his trial. I knew the way he treated me was’t right, but I didn’t realize I was digging his grave a bit deeper with every word I said until a few years ago. Last I heard he was doing fifteen to twenty years. He should be up for parole soon,” you realize, and you start to spiral, staring off into space and wondering what will happen when he gets out. JJ calling your name pulls you back into reality.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I ended up living with an aunt after all that. I went by my mom’s last name, legally changed it when I turned eighteen. I kept my head down and worked my ass off. I graduated high school at 16 and never looked back. If I had I might know how the hell Jacob was able to get a job in this precinct, let alone run it,” you finish and before anyone can speak Penelope has practically tackled you into a hug.

“Did you know any of this?” Rossi’s question is directed at JJ and she lets out a sigh.

“I knew she had a bad experience with drugs as a kid. She freaks out whenever I leave a bottle of tylenol where Henry can see it, that makes sense now. I knew it was because of her father. And I knew she wasn’t on speaking terms with any of her family,” JJ lists off and you feel your eyes starting to water once again.

“It’s not something I talk about. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.” JJ shakes her head, cupping your cheek in her hand.

“I’m not mad. It was your story to tell me when you were ready,” she places a kiss on your forehead  and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Alright, let’s go catch this son of a bitch so we can get the hell out of here,” you say and the team agrees, heading back into the building with a renewed desire to close this case. 

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @5aftermidnight @im-salt-but-not-salty @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Criminal minds tag list: @reidingandwriting

#jj x reader #jj criminal minds #jj fanfic #jj fanfiction #jj #jj x fem!reader #jj x you #jj x y/n #Jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #Jennifer jareau x female!reader #Jennifer Jareau fanfic #Jennifer jareau reader insert #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x fem!reader #hometown

[pinktwingirl]

Loki Series Rewrite (AKA Loki Series But With Squirrel Girl) Ep 3

INT. TVA - DAY

Loki is attacking Sylvie. Suddenly, Doreen enters and rushes up to them.

DOREEN

Loki, catch!

She tosses him a prune stick. Loki takes it and he starts fighting Sylvie with her. During the battle, Doreen manages to overpower Sylvie and tackle her to the ground. Doreen holds her knuckle spikes to Sylvie's throat, but Sylvie twists her arm and kicks Loki's prune stick away. Sylvie then kicks Doreen's face and grabs Loki. Doreen freezes when she sees Sylvie is holding a dagger to Loki's throat. Just then, Ravonna and several other agents enter.

SYLVIE

Come any closer, and I'll kill him.

RAVONNA

Go for it.

Doreen glares at her. Before she can attack, Loki whips out his tem-pad, causing himself and Sylvie to disappear.

We cut to later, when Mobius, Ravonna, and Doreen are standing where Loki and Sylvie vanished.

DOREEN

(to Ravonna)

Thanks for nothing.

RAVONNA

I called her bluff. I knew she wasn't going to do it.

DOREEN

Yeah. Sure.

MOBIUS

Where the hell did they go?

DOREEN

You don't know?

MOBIUS

Loki took the tem-pad with him. We can't find his location if we don't have it.

(He groans in frustration.)

That bastard! He directly disobeyed me! I knew I shouldn't have trusted him!

DOREEN

He probably just wanted to know what was going on! Look, I can find him with-

(She takes out her Loki locket, only to see that it is broken.)

Shit...

MOBIUS

What?

DOREEN

This thing must've gotten damaged in the fight.

MOBIUS

Can't you just fix it?

DOREEN

It's not that simple. Thor let me borrow parts of rare Asgardian technology to build this. They were some of the last parts they had, so I would have to go back in time to Asgard to get more. And... I have no idea where I would even begin to start looking there.

Mobius sighs.

MOBIUS

Alright, look, I'll search through our files on Asgard to see what I can find. In the meantime, just try to salvage what you can, and don't dilly-dally. Every moment those variants are on the loose, we're all in danger.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Doreen is trying to work on the locket to no avail. She slams it down and sighs. Just then, her squirrel Monkey Joe hops up on the table, carrying spare parts. He sets them down and squeaks at her.

DOREEN

No... Those won't work, Monkey Joe. We need gear that can navigate through both space and time.

Looking dejected, Monkey Joe lets out a few sad squeaks. Doreen pets him and gives him an almond as consolation.

DOREEN

I know, buddy, you tried your best...

Doreen's other squirrels, Tippy-Toe and Mr. Lieberman join Monkey Joe to eat pieces of the almond. Just then, CASEY turns around and peers at the squirrels in horror.

CASEY

What are those?

(Beat)

DOREEN

Um, almonds? Want some?

CASEY

No, the... things eating them...

Doreen raises an eyebrow.

DOREEN

They're squirrels.

CASEY

"Squirrels?"

DOREEN

What, you've never seen a squirrel before?

CASEY

No... I've spent my whole life here, so I've never seen any animals at all.

Doreen looks mortified.

DOREEN

That's the saddest thing I've ever heard in my life...

INT. TVA LIBRARY - DAY

Mobius is looking through various old books on shelves. He pauses when he flips through a book that has Asgardian writing and a map of Asgard.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Doreen is showing Casey pictures of different types of squirrels on her phone as Casey looks on in wonder.

DOREEN

So, this here is a red squirrel. I just love their little pointy ears! Ooh, and these ones are extra rare: The Japanese flying squirrel! Look at their beady little eyes! And their fluffy tail! You can only find these in one island on all of Earth!

CASEY

Wow... That's amazing!

Just then, Mobius walks in.

MOBIUS

Doreen!

Doreen quickly slams her phone down.

DOREEN

Uhhh, yes, sir, we are hard at work!

She does an awkward salute. Mobius frowns at her.

MOBIUS

I found this book in our library.

(He flips to a page that has a drawing of Odin's treasure room with a description written in Asgardian.)

This look familiar?

Doreen frowns as she peers at the book.

DOREEN

This is all in Asgardian. I can't read it.

MOBIUS

Forget the text; look at the picture.

He points to a section of the drawing where several golden parts are stored in the treasure room. Doreen's eyes widen.

DOREEN

Oh my God... I think that's it!

Mobius grins.

MOBIUS

Yeah? You think you could go get it if I sent you to Asgard, say, a couple decades in the past?

DOREEN

Sure, I mean... All I would have to do is find Odin's treasure room... wherever that is, somehow break in, get the parts, and then, by some miracle, get out undetected, and then we're home free!

MOBIUS

Easy!

DOREEN

Easy!

(She pats him on the back.)

Good job, Moby! I might need a change of clothes, though.

MOBIUS

What's wrong with your clothes?

DOREEN

I mean, I can't just walk into Asgard like this; I'd stick out like a sore thumb!

Mobius sighs.

MOBIUS

Alright, I'll see if we have any old stuff from the Asgardian variants we've taken in. But study that book and maybe try to come up with a halfway coherent plan for sneaking in. I'll set the portal to send you back to the same moment in time once you're done, so you can take however long you need to look for the parts. But don't use that as an excuse to sight-see!

He chuckles under his breath as he walks away.

MOBIUS

"Moby"...

INT. LAMENTIS-1 TRAIN - NIGHT

Loki and Sylvie are chatting on the train.

SYLVIE

How about you? You're a prince! Must've been... would-be princesses. Or, perhaps, another prince?

LOKI

A bit of both. I suspect, the same as you. But nothing ever...

SYLVIE

Real.

LOKI

Hmm.

(Beat)

SYLVIE

What about your mortal girl? What was her name? Doreen?

Loki raises an eyebrow.

SYLVIE

She seems nice.

LOKI

Oh, I'm sure she'd appreciate that, coming from the person who practically kicked her face in.

SYLVIE

Hey, when she's on the run, a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

LOKI

And, no, she's... just an acquaintance. 

Sylvie raises an eyebrow and smirks.

INT. ASGARD PALACE, 1960 - NIGHT

Doreen enters the palace through a portal in a pretty, albeit slightly ill-fitting blue Asgardian dress, with her hair done up like all the other noble ladies. As she wanders around, she spots a crowd of noble ladies in ballgowns chatting and laughing while they walk. She tries to inconspicuously join the group, when a MAID calls out to her.

MAID

Um, pardon me, my lady?

Doreen freezes to see if the maid is talking to her.

MAID

Do you not have something to wear for tonight?

DOREEN

I... Um... Well, I was just going to wear this... very Asgardian dress...

MAID

Do you... have anything a little more formal? I trust you haven't forgotten that the ball is tonight?

DOREEN

Uh... Right... Yes... Of course... Um...

MAID

We have some spare dresses if you'd like to borrow one. I'm sure the queen wouldn't mind.

Doreen hesitates for a moment.

DOREEN

A-alright... Thank you.

She follows the maid into a corridor.

INT. CHANGING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen sits in front of a mirror while the maid styles her hair. She has a layer of light, pretty makeup on her face.

MAID

Have you decided which dress you'd like, my lady?

DOREEN

Oh... I liked the green one.

The maid raises an eyebrow.

MAID

Are we... hoping for something?

DOREEN

Wh-what do you mean?

MAID

Well, if you're wearing the colors of Prince Loki, some might think you were... trying to get his attention.

(Beat)

DOREEN

W-will he be there?

MAID

He should. I must warn you that he detests these types of social events, though. At last winter's ball, he projected an illusion of himself in the ballroom to make it seem like he was present when he was really in his room reading books the whole night.

Doreen grins.

MAID

Shall I help you put on your dress?

DOREEN

(Lost in thought)

Yeah...

(Her head shoots up as she comes back to her senses.)

U-uh, I mean, no! No, no, no! I... I can do it myself...

INT. ASGARDIAN BALLROOM, 1960 - NIGHT

Loki is standing off to the side while Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three talk and drink. They are all dressed in their outfits from 2011 Thor. Thor downs a mug of ale.

THOR

Another!

He smashes his drink on the ground and Loki rolls his eyes. Thor approaches him and claps him on the back - a little too hard. Loki grunts and gives him an irritated look.

THOR

Come on, brother... You could at least try to have a little fun!

Loki scoffs.

LOKI

Watching every maiden in the palace fawn over you and Fandral is not my idea of fun.

Thor laughs.

THOR

Loki... Must you be so down? You can't spend all your time shut up in your room reading all those books and doing your little magic spells.

LOKI

Why not? I'd infinitely prefer it to this.

Before Thor can say another word, Loki walks off. A SERVANT approaches him, carrying a tray with a goblet of wine on it.

SERVANT

Some wine, your highness?

Loki eagerly takes the goblet and drinks it, nearly downing the entire thing in one swig. He freezes when he sees something in the distance.

We pan up the staircase as we see Doreen descending down it, wearing an elegant green and gold dress. Her hair is done up in an intricate braid, with golden ornaments adorning it. She looks around the ballroom nervously, peering at different corridors in an attempt to find the treasure room. Never taking his eyes off her, Loki sets the goblet down on a table nearby and walks off-screen.

As Doreen makes her way across the ballroom, Tippy-Toe suddenly scurries off to a table where grapes and nuts are laid out.

DOREEN

Tippy!

(She rushes after her.)

We're supposed to be keeping a low profile!

Tippy-Toe gives her a pleading look and a few squeaks. Doreen sighs.

DOREEN

Alright, fine. But just one.

She hands Tippy-Toe a macadamia nut. As the squirrel eats her treat, we suddenly hear Loki's voice behind them. Startled, Doreen whirls around.

LOKI

As much as I'm sure your friend is pleasant company, the kitchen staff might not take kindly to seeing a rodent on the refreshment table.

Tippy-Toe cocks her head and gives him an inquisitive squeak. Loki smiles at her.

LOKI

No offense.

DOREEN

Ah... Y-You're right, um... Tippy, why don't you go eat that outside? I'll catch up with you later.

Tippy-Toe squeaks and runs off with her nut. Nervously wringing her hands, Doreen glances back at Loki, who smiles at her.

DOREEN

So, um... Are you... actually here this time, or is this just another one of your creepy illusions?

Loki smiles and extends his hand to her.

LOKI

Perhaps you should find out for yourself.

After hesitating for a moment, Doreen gingerly places her hand in his. Loki kisses the back of her hand, causing her to blush.

LOKI

I'm terribly sorry; I don't believe I caught your name?

DOREEN

U-um... Doreen.

LOKI

Well, Lady Doreen... Would you care for a dance?

DOREEN

Huh? O-oh, I, um... I-I don't... really know how...

LOKI

It's easy! I'll teach you! Here...

(He leads her into the center of the ballroom, where other couples are dancing.)

Just step forward like this... Then back... Right... Left...

Doreen glances nervously around the room as he leads her into a waltz.

LOKI

You don't have to watch what everyone else is doing; just follow my lead...

(Beat)

You're, um... You're stepping on my foot.

DOREEN

Oh, sorry!

They continue to chat as they dance.

LOKI

You know, I'm surprised a noble lady like yourself never learned to dance.

DOREEN

Oh, well, um... I don't... really like going to parties very much.

LOKI

Ah. I don't either, to be honest.

DOREEN

Then how'd you get to be so good at dancing? Are all the girls lining up to dance with the youngest prince of Asgard?

Loki laughs, embarrassed.

LOKI

Ah.... N-no, not exactly... That's... more Thor's forte. I... mostly learned from dancing with my mother.

Doreen grins.

DOREEN

Aww...

Loki laughs.

(Beat)

LOKI

You're stepping on my foot again.

DOREEN

Ack!

She takes her foot off of his.

LOKI

You know, I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose.

DOREEN

I'm not!

After a pause, she grins devilishly and stomps on his foot, causing him to yelp in surprise.

DOREEN

Okay, maybe that was on purpose.

They both laugh. Doreen glances at his helmet.

DOREEN

That helmet looks... comfortable.

LOKI

Oh, it is.

DOREEN

Yeah, I don't believe you.

LOKI

Well, it only weighs about 30 pounds, give or take. It's like wearing a feather.

They both snicker.

DOREEN

Doesn't it ever throw you off balance?

LOKI

Not once you get used to it. You should try wearing it sometime. I'm sure you'd love it.

Doreen grins, laughing to herself.

DOREEN

Yeah, I'm sure...

LOKI

I, um... I must ask... Did you... wear green tonight deliberately? It is my favorite color, after all.

DOREEN

Oh, really? I never would've been able to tell!

They both laugh.

DOREEN

No, it, um... It's actually my favorite color, too, so...

LOKI

Ah.

DOREEN

Is that, like, something people actually do? I mean... wearing certain colors to get people to notice them?

LOKI

Well, sometimes, yes. I... admit, I... actually tried it once myself.

DOREEN

Oh yeah?

LOKI

A few years ago, there was a prince visiting from Vanaheim that I was... rather taken with. It was known that he loved silver, so I thought if I wore silver armor, I might... endear myself to him.

DOREEN

Did it work?

LOKI

(laughing)

No.

DOREEN

Well... I think you look better in green, anyway.

We cut to Thor standing with ODIN and FRIGGA on the far side of the ballroom, watching Loki and Doreen.

THOR

Mother, who is that Loki is dancing with?

FRIGGA

I'm not sure... I don't believe I've ever seen her around the palace before...

ODIN

Neither have I. I would wager she's merely the daughter of a poor social climber trying to pass himself off as a noble. Nothing to concern yourself with.

Thor grins as Odin walks off-screen.

THOR

Well, Loki seems to be finally enjoying himself...

They watch Loki twirl Doreen around as she giggles, her face flushed red. Frigga laughs.

FRIGGA

That's the first time I've seen him smile all day...

As they continue to dance, Doreen grows more nervous, suddenly unable to meet Loki's gaze, which never leaves her face. At one point, Loki places his hands around her waist and pulls her closer to him, causing her to tremble slightly. After hesitating, she gently places her hands on his shoulders. He smiles as the orchestra finishes playing.

DOREEN

How did I do?

LOKI

You're a fast learner. I'm impressed.

They smile at each other.

EXT. ASGARDIAN COURTYARD - NIGHT

Loki and Doreen chat as they walk through the garden in the palace courtyard, with Doreen drinking a cocktail in an elegant glass.

LOKI

I apologize if I come off as um... well, stiff... I have to admit this sort of thing is... well, it's rather new for me. I was never really very social growing up... Everyone always admired Thor for his physical strength, and, well... My own talents of magic and intellect are far less revered. The only friends I ever had, I met through Thor.

DOREEN

If it makes you feel any better, I didn't have any friends as a kid.

Loki raises an eyebrow.

LOKI

Not any?

Doreen shakes her head.

LOKI

Well, I... certainly wish we'd met sooner, then.

(Beat)

DOREEN

Yeah, me too.

LOKI

It's certainly never easy being an outcast... I've spent my whole life living in Thor's shadow... I know my father wishes I were more like him and his friends, but... All the brawn and muscle... It's just not who I am. I'm not like them.

DOREEN

Yeah, and, I mean, I'm sure being a frost giant and all must make you feel different, too...

Loki frowns.

LOKI

I beg your pardon?

Doreen's eyes widen, and she almost chokes on her drink.

DOREEN

U-Uh... I-I mean, um... Hypothetically speaking, if someone were... secretly a frost giant living in Asgard, that would... make them feel different, but, you know, that... wouldn't happen... ever...

She lets out a nervous laugh and sets her drink down on a nearby table as Loki blinks in confusion.

DOREEN

Anyways... What are you plans for the future if you're not first in line for the throne?

LOKI

I'm... not sure, to be honest. My parents thought I could gain some title of power by marrying me off to some other royal family, but I... don't think that's going to happen.

DOREEN

I guess it's too bad things didn't work out with that Vanaheim prince, then.

LOKI

Well, actually, I'm... rather glad they didn't now.

DOREEN

Why?

(Beat)

LOKI

Because now I've met you.

Doreen freezes and glances at him in surprise. He gives her a gentle smile in return. For a moment, she looks inexplicably happy, but once her senses return to her, her face falls and she backs away from him. Loki frowns.

LOKI

Is... something wrong?

DOREEN

I... I have to go...

LOKI

If... If I've said something wrong, I-

DOREEN

N-no! No, it's not... I... I'm sorry...

Before he can say another word, she runs away.

EXT. ASGARDIAN FOUNTAIN - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen splashes her face with water from a fountain on the other side of the courtyard, trying to pull herself together. Suddenly, Tippy-Toe runs up to her and squeaks at her.

DOREEN

Right... Parts...

INT. ODIN'S TREASURE ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Sneaking around corridors, Doreen finally finds the entrance to Odin's treasure room, which is protected by two guards.

DOREEN

(Whispering)

Okay, Tippy, you distract them while I sneak up on them from behind.

Tippy-Toe salutes, runs up to the guards, and starts playing with their armor while squeaking at them.

GUARD #1

What the-?! What is that?!

GUARD #2

It appears to be some type of squirrel...

Guard #1 tries flicking Tippy-Toe off his armor.

GUARD #1

Shoo! Begone, creature!

(He turns to the other guard.)

Do you think it's Ratatoskr?

GUARD #2

No, you fool! Ratatoskr has a horn!

Before they can say another word, Doreen strikes them both from behind. They try to attack her, but she expertly knocks them both out in one punch.

DOREEN

(to Tippy-Toe)

Let's go.

She and Tippy-Toe enter the treasure room, scanning the area for the parts. Doreen frowns in confusion when she sees Odin's fake infinity gauntlet, but is quickly distracted by the golden parts in a chest in the far end of the room.

DOREEN

Got it!

She tries picking up the parts, but as soon as she does, a shield of magic blocks the exit.

DOREEN

Oh, that's not good...

She hears footsteps and guards' voices rushing towards the treasure room. Moving quickly, she jumps up to the ceiling and kicks down the mechanism creating the shield.

DOREEN

Tippy, we gotta run!

Hiding in corridors, they slip past the guards and escape to the outside of the palace. Doreen grabs her tem-pad and opens a portal. Before she returns to the TVA, she catches a glimpse of Loki's silhouette in the distance walking around. For a moment, he seems to be looking for something, but he soon sits down on a bench, defeated, and looks at the other party guests in the distance. Squeezing her eyes shut, Doreen turns away and places a reset charge on the ground. As she and Tippy go through the portal, the reset charge disintegrates the area.

INT. TVA - DAY

Doreen and Tippy-Toe rush through the portal, causing Doreen to nearly run into Mobius, who raises an eyebrow.

DOREEN

I got the parts.

MOBIUS

I... can see that. Are you okay? What's with the getup?

DOREEN

I'm fine - There was a ball going on, so I just had to change to blend in...

(Beat)

I should... get started on fixing the locket.

Before Mobius can stop her, she rushes to another room.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Still in her ballgown, Doreen is busying inserting the parts into the locket. Mobius enters.

MOBIUS

I, uh... saw the footage of Asgard...

Doreen grits her teeth and says nothing.

MOBIUS

So... you... like Loki, huh? Gotta say, I wasn't expecting that...

DOREEN

I really don't want to talk about this.

MOBIUS

Does he know?

DOREEN

Uh, no, he doesn't, and I'd like to keep it that way.

MOBIUS

Well, I mean... I'd be lying if I said I thought you weren't an odd pair, but I guess I can see it...

Doreen clenches her jaw and ignores him.

MOBIUS

I just don't see why you're all upset over it...

Doreen slams the locket down.

DOREEN

Because! I'm gonna live, what? 80, 90 years max? Maybe a hundred if I'm lucky? That's a fraction of Loki's life! Why would he ever pay any attention to me?! If that Loki from the past knew I was just a human, he wouldn't have taken a second glance at me!

Realizing she is losing her composure, she tries to focus back on fixing the locket. 

After a moment, Mobius sits down next to her.

MOBIUS

You know, I've studied Loki's entire life. I thought I understood everything there was to know about him. But you... you stumped me. If Loki knew he was going to die at the hands of Thanos, why did he trust you to be the one to bring him back to life? And then, it hit me... It's because he knows you're different. He knows that you know what it's like to be an outcast. He could sense it, just from meeting you, that you would be the first stranger he ever met that wouldn't see him as an enemy.

After a pause, Doreen shakes her head.

DOREEN

Even if I could believe that... it wouldn't matter. I'm never going to live long enough to be a part of his life.

(Beat)

MOBIUS

You know, when you've worked at the TVA for as long as I have, you tend to get a bit of a perspective on these types of things. Doreen... It's not about how much time we have... It's what we do with our time while we have it that matters. And you may not believe me, but I know you've made a difference in his life. You never doubted him, even when you had every right to. And that's always going to stick with him, even long after you're gone.

Doreen looks down and says nothing. After a moment, Mobius stands up.

MOBIUS

Well... make of it what you will. I'm gonna go ask the other agents if they've found any leads-

Suddenly, the locket clicks open.

DOREEN

It's fixed!

(She hands it to Mobius.)

Here, let that charge at a good power source for a little bit. Once it's at 100%, you should be able to see where Loki is.

MOBIUS

Okay, great. We'll get a task force ready to go get him.

DOREEN

Can I come?

MOBIUS

Ravonna would rather you stay here. She doesn't want a non-variant being put at an unnecessary risk.

Doreen's face falls, but she nods. Mobius exits. Doreen sits back at a computer and starts to look through files. She comes across a tab that reads "AGENT PROFILES", but when she tries to access it, she gets a message that reads "ERROR: RESTRICTED". Glancing over her shoulder, she checks to make sure no one else is in the room and begins typing.

INT. RAVONNA'S OFFICE - DAY

As Ravonna sits at her desk, she receives a holographic message that reads "WARNING: DATA BREACH DETECTED". She clenches her jaw.

INT. TVA OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen is reading files on her computer. As she continues to read, her eyes widen, with her expression growing more and more horrified. Suddenly, she turns back to the door.

DOREEN

Mobius?!

When there is no response, she tries to exit the room and follow after Mobius, but a gate of lasers suddenly blocks her path. As she glances at it, confused, Ravonna opens a portal into the room and strikes her from behind, knocking her out.

SYLVIE SMIRKS ‘CAUSE SHE KNOWS HE LYIN

So yeah, I took a lot of inspiration for the ballroom scene from the Laendler scene from The Sound of Music. I imagined Loki and Doreen’s relationship being a lot like The Captain and Maria, ‘cause I’m a huge sucker for the hardened grouch going soft for the innocent, lighthearted dreamer trope lol :P

I also listened to the song “When the Night is Over” by Lord Huron a lot when writing that scene. It’s very sad and haunting if you think of it as Loki’s POV after Doreen runs away.

Finally, I am officially dubbing the Doreen x Loki pairing “Dorki”, and I shall henceforth be tagging these posts as such!

@drawntothedarkside

#loki #loki series #loki series rewrite #loki series rewrite project #loki series but with squirrel girl #squirrel girl #doreen green #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #ravonna renslayer #tippy toe #casey loki #thor #sif #warriors three #frigga #odin #odin is a jerk as usual #squirrel girl x loki #doreen green x loki #dorki #loki x squirrel girl #loki x doreen green

[yikestripes]

Masquerade

Request: Can you write a Hotch x reader where the BAU team attends a ballroom party after helping a rich man from an unsub as thanks. Hotch meets the reader and they talk and dance all night. The reader is intrigued that Hotch is a profiler and at midnight she gives him her shoe and tells him to find her based only on that. Thanks!!!

here you go @lavenderblossom12 !!!! i hope you enjoy this !!! i actually had a ton of fun writing it and i usually have such a tough time writing for hotch. if it’s good maybe i’ll write a part 2 ;)

key:

(Y/H/C): your hair color

(Y/D/J): your dream job

(Y/E/C): your eye color

word count: 2.5k

“Hotchner,” Hotch answered with his usual monotone draw, narrowing his already narrow brow as he listened to whatever the caller was saying on the other end. “Well, I suppose that would be alright. Send me the location. Thanks.” He hung up and turned the phone over and over in his hands before looking to the ceiling.

“What is it, Hotch? Is everything okay?” JJ asked, concerned.

“The BAU team was invited to a masquerade party to celebrate our returning the Schaffer’s daughter,” He said, sounding unsure. He recognized the caller ID as soon as he saw the D.C area code, having spent extensive time with the family in pursuit of the most recent psychopath. They had gotten a location at the most crucial time, they had shown up right before the unsub slit the young woman’s throat. They apprehended him in a matter of minutes and were able to return the girl safely to her family. She had been the target in a war of spite between the unsub and her father, since he had personally fired him from his company 3 months later without any sort of rhyme or reason, beyond slow work ethic. He was furious and decided to get back at him by taking the most precious thing in his world; his 19 year old daughter.

“Well, that’s never happened before.” Reid said, looking confused. He hated parties, clubs, anything of the sort. The loud music made it hard for him to think and he had a tough time connecting with other people, his tangents tended to turn others off from him. Hotch remained unsure about agreeing so quickly, but decided not to press the issue. It was the right thing to do; it was, after all, partially in their honor. The team could deal with it for one night, not to mention they had been working especially hard and could use a single night to let loose and celebrate their work, especially since this case had been a win for the good guys.

It was set to take place that Saturday and although attendance was not required, it was recommended. This was to celebrate the return of a young girl and it was to thank them, so it was only right of them to go.

At least, that was the way Hotch was going to continue justifying it to himself, whether the team or anyone else understood or not. He was going to find a way to enjoy this party if it took everything in him, or even all the liquor at the open bar. Tonight was about relaxing. Every single person in his life never failed to remind him how uptight he could be, or how he could never relax. With all the things he’d seen since starting at the BAU, how could he?

He straightened his tie in the mirror of his small apartment and took a deep breath, before making his way to the ballroom where the party was being hosted. He had apparently been assigned to a table with the rest of the team, of which he was the first to arrive, and he eagerly awaited his fellow agents’ arrivals. Prentiss came shortly after Hotch, wearing a long red gown that accentuated her curves without trying to make a spectacle of herself, followed by Penelope, who was the complete opposite. Her dress was colorful and bright, just like her personality- and typical work attire. JJ wore a gown similar to Emily’s and Reid had gone with a classic all black suit. Derek was what he called “fashionably late”, sporting a suit that was similar to Reid’s, except navy blue as opposed to solid black.

It didn’t take a profiler to see what each agent’s outfit said about them; Reid didn’t want to be noticed, Morgan was impartial since he got attention no matter what he wore, and the girls’ dresses and makeup spoke more to their individual personalities. JJ was able to snag a babysitter for Henry and brought Will as a plus one, so she dressed more suited to being with someone. Classy and elegant, without attracting attention to herself. Emily was similar in the sense of class and elegance, but she didn’t bring anyone so attracting someone else was more of her goal with her dress and her overall demeanor. Hotch, on the other hand, didn’t have much of a motive for anything beyond looking nice and enjoying his time off from work and his typical worries, sporting a plain black suit with a classic red tie. Nevertheless, all the agents looked fantastic and it showed as they slowly eased deeper into the party.

Hotch excused himself from Reid as he went on about the periodic table, he wasn’t even sure how the prior conversation of the butterfly room on the second floor could possibly have any relation, but of course Reid found a way to bring something like that into a conversation. Hotch shook his head to himself as he approached, being only one of two who were at the bar, besides the bartender.

“I’ll take a Kettle One on the rocks, please.” Hotch took a long drag from the glass as soon as the bartender set it in front of him, earning him a small chuckle from the person beside him.

“Thirsty?” You asked, your eyes alight. The liquor went down his throat icy, forcing him to pause for a second before responding. He offered a small smile.

“Not quite.” He said quietly, looking down into the glass.

“Fair enough.” You took a sip from the wine in your hand as you looked across the room, throwing a lock of (Y/H/C) hair over your shoulder. Hotch took another sip himself before inching slightly closer to you.

“It’s a lovely venue.” Hotch said quietly.

“It really is. I came to a wedding that took place here about a month ago, for one of my best friends from college,” You paused to take another drag from your wine. “I gotta be honest though, I like what they did with the place now much better.” She set down the empty glass on the bar and the bartender filled you up without you saying a word. You took the glass in your hand once more, looking to Hotch.

“Is it safe to assume you’re one of the guests of honor this evening?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, how did you know?” Hotch asked.

“Well, you’re sitting at a table that is slightly apart from the other tables, and the other guests at your table who I saw you sitting with before are all glued to one another, seeming as if they’re the only ones they know here.” You said.

“Wow. I guess we do sort of stand out.” Hotch replied, taking another sip of his own drink, feeling the effect slowly loosen him up. He downed the last few swigs and offered you his hand.

“Care to dance?” Hotch was never the dancing sort, except when he went out with his ex-wife and/or coworkers. Haley enjoyed dancing enough, as did Hotch, but they never found the time to do so. However, tonight was about relaxing, and ignoring everything in him that told him not to at least try and enjoy himself. He was going to enjoy this party, he was determined to.

A blush crept up to your cheeks as you accepted his hand, entering the dance floor from the side. Hotch placed his hands on your waist, and you rested yours on his chest as you slowly swayed around the floor.

“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, smiling up at him. You had to hand it to him, he was extremely attractive, and his elusive smiles were something that clearly had to be earned, and you seemed to be doing a pretty good job so far.

“Well, uh, there really isn’t much to tell.” He said, looking around for something to trigger a memory as to what he could use to impress you.

“Come on, a handsome guy like you? I’m sure you’ve got some sort of exciting life.” Now it was Hotch’s turn to blush; he wasn’t used to hearing things like that.

“Well, I’m an FBI agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, so I guess that’s pretty exciting.” He shrugged as your eyes widened, fascinated.

“That’s pretty incredible, I gotta be honest.” You said, closing your dropped jaw. He smiled again, somehow making him even more attractive.

“Thanks. It’s hard work, but it pays off. What do you do?” He asked, readjusting his hands a little higher on your waist. You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed, but ignored it.

“I’m a (Y/D/J).” You grinned. Hotch brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, as blood rushed to your cheeks.

“Wow, that sounds exciting.” He whispered. The slower song had ended and led its way to a more upbeat song, and Hotch saw JJ dragging Will and Reid out onto the dance floor, followed by Morgan, Garcia, and Prentiss, who winked in Hotch’s direction.

You dropped your hands from his shoulders and grabbed his hand, leading him in the direction of your table where you had set down your wine glass previously. You took a long gulp, and turned your attention back to Hotch.

“What do you do for the FBI?” You asked, steadying yourself on a nearby chair.

“I’m a, uh, profiler. My team and I work together to create a profile of both a victim and/or the perpetrator, and use that to help solve the case.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“That’s fascinating.” You said, in awe. That sounded like the coolest job you’d ever heard, definitely something straight out of a movie.

“I’m going to grab another drink, did you need a refill?” Hotch asked, eyeing your emptying glass. You paused for a second to check yourself, and see if another could cause you to embarrass yourself. You decided that if you paced yourself, you would be fine.

“Sure, chardonnay.” You downed the rest of the contents and handed the glass to Hotch with a sweet smile. You watched as he made his way to the bar, confident. Another man approached him, and sent a small grin in your direction before turning his attention back to the man you’d spent almost half the evening with, but you didn’t even know his name. That was the funny thing about these sort of corporate parties; names were almost never necessary, you have the most incredible evening, but never ruin the memory with names and empty promises. You were interested in the fact that the man had never even mentioned anything about names, numbers, or anything of the sort. You almost always had to bring up the idea yourself, whether it was after one glass of wine or several. Most usually wanted to sleep with you, something that usually became apparent by this time of the night.

Not with this man, however. He was sweet and sure of himself, but not so sure that he thought he could sweet talk you back to his apartment. He genuinely seemed intrigued by you, and you by him.

“That’s a pretty girl you’ve been chatting up, Hotch.” Morgan appeared at Hotch’s side, ordering himself another beer.

“Isn’t she beautiful? She’s intelligent, too. And miraculously interested in our line of work,” Hotch replied with a small laugh, taking a sip from his glass.

“You think there’ll be a second date?” Morgan asked.

Hotch sorta shrugged and didn’t answer the question, just picked up your wine and his kettle and was off to find you. Luckily for him, you hadn’t wandered far, just to look at some of the paintings that were hanging up around the venue.

“Your wine, my lady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.” You giggled as you took a short drag, sighing in content. “I hate to say it, but the evening is almost over..” You trailed off, looking toward the giant clock on the wall.

“Wow, I didn’t realize it had gotten that late.” It was nearing 12:15, and the party ended around 12:30.

“Yeah.” You took another sip of your wine as Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph” filled the room. “This is one of my favorites, shall we?” He set his glass down on the table beside yours, took your hand, and led you onto the dance floor once again. This time, he allowed his hands to sit directly on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He said with a shy smile.

“Thank you, so do you.” You giggled. This made his entire face break out into a grin as he lifted your arm, indicating for you to do a small spin. You dressed fanned out around you as Hotch brought you close again. You’d lost your footing amid the spin, not used to spinning in such high heels and after about 3 glasses of wine. You giggled a little bit more.

Hotch licked his lips as he took in the color of your eyes, (Y/E/C), sparkling and bright. He smiled a little and looked down at your lips, which were a lovely shade of pink, slightly parted. You could instantly tell what he was thinking, and closed the gap quickly. He stiffened in surprise, and then melted into it. You pulled away breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear.

The song ended faster than you would have liked, when you got a wild idea. It was something you’d always wanted to do, something you’d only ever seen in movies. There’s a first time for everything, right?

You pulled him down a little so you could whisper in his ear while leaning on him, taking off your left shoe.

“Come find me, Mr. FBI agent.” You whispered, pressing the shoe into his hand and walking away, purse in hand, in the direction of the exit.

Hotch’s eyes widened when he finally processed what had just happened, Morgan and Prentiss quickly approaching.

“What was that?” Prentiss asked, somewhat coherently.

“I… I have to find her.” Hotch said, staring at where you had sauntered right out of the ballroom, and beyond his reach.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #dr spencer reid #spence #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #agent derek morgan #penelope x derek #penelope garcia x derek morgan #derek morgan imagines #derek morgan x oc #jason gideon #david rossi #agent rossi #agent reid #emily prentiss #emily x reader #emily prentiss x reader #jj #jennifer jareau

[angelswithcigarettes]

[If you know me - you don’t.]

“Becoming one”

Summary: Spencer sleeps with both Hotch and Morgan, both of them are aware that he does with the other too.

This is the first time they have a threesome.

Warnings: Sexual Content

Relevant Tags: Light Sub/Dom

Word Count: 3077

Ao3:

[This is the first time I have ever written something like this - my insecurity is kicking in ]

First Chapter:

Giving up control this is what this is about,at least that is what the profiler inside of him thinks. Giving yourself in someone else's hands, not thinking,just doing what you are told.

The first person who ever makes Spencer feel like he isn't in control but not spiraling was Hotch. Hotch who had taken him in his motel bad, gently thrusting into him, while Spencer whines underneath him.

He had never felt something similar, the handjob he got ones from a women five years ago was something totally different than what Hotch was doing. Hitting the spot that makes a shutter spread throughout his body, mumbering sweet words into his ear. His arms next to his head, protecting him from everything bad in the world.

They didn't stop after that, whenever Hotch gets frustrated with Haley,whenever something goes wrong on the job he will come to him, pressing him into the mattress of his wide bed, his bedroom dark, it had always been at night.

The first time with Morgan was different, Morgan had been ruthless at first but the times after that had been gentle. Oh he hadn't known someone could be this gentle and loving with him. Spencer could cry at the warm feeling inside of him that spreads by Morgan's actions. By Morgan's words. It isn't all about sexuality with Morgan as it is with Hotch.

He had told Morgan from the start. The second time he recognised what was about to happen he had stopped him and Morgan could see the fear in his eyes, and stopped immediately, sitting down on the bed and pulling Spencer's legs on top of his now laying next to his waist as he carefully runs his hands up and down while Spencer stumbles over his words. "I am sleeping with Hotch."

"Excuse me?" Morgan had stopped moving his hands.

"I said I have been sleeping with Hotch over the last months."

"But you aren't-"

"No! No- No I wouldn't do that he just- he just likes to- likes to- you know- be a little bit harsher sometimes." Morgan had a hard time not to chuckle at Spencer's innocent way of telling him how Hotch fucks him senseless.

"And you okay with that?"

"Very!"

"And you are okay with sleeping with me too?"

"Yes. Hotch wouldn't mind."

"Alright, then I don't see any reason why we shouldn't do this."

Hotch had been a little bit more unpleasant about it. "How long?"

"Only three times over the last two weeks."

"And you are only telling me now?"

"I am sorry- I- I- I didn't think you would mind." Uncertain if he fucked up, Spencer had looked down on lap playing with his hands until Hotch lifted his face by his chin and then had started kissing his neck. He would never kiss him on the mouth. Spencer assumes it is because of Haley. He hopes he never has to look her into the eyes. But he could feel the possessive touch the sex had after he had told him,how he marked him up, leaving hickeys like a horney teenage boy at his collarbone and bite marks on his tight.

The two man never spoke to each other about it. It had been four months of both of them sleeping with Spencer but never bought it up in a conversation but their actions tell each other the unspoken fight they have over who has the upper hand when it comes to Spencer.

It was a wonder no one on the team had noticed yet.

Morgan would tease Hotch by subtitle touching Spencer whenever he can, it doesn't draw anyones attention,they are close friends and the touches are innocent. Sometimes firmer like moving Spencer to the side with both hands on his hips or putting an arm around him while they look at a file.

Hotch doesn't have the luxury, if he would suddenly start touching Spencer,it would cause suspicion and was also unprofessional.

What both of them see is how Spencer melts in their attention. How he leans into the touch and how he crumbles under Hotch's firm hand.

The first time they talk about Spencer is when he doesn't show up for work, eventhough they both excuse it with their relationship just being sex, their both have a close relationship to him, and care deeply for him.

"Have you seen Spence he was supposed to be here? Has he called in sick?"

"No,he hasn't called. I will check in on him,close the door." Morgan steps into Hotch's office closing the door behind him. They always had the tendency to edge on. To easily break out into a fight but that doesn't stop either one of them from trusting the other when it comes to the job. When it comes to working as a team. And in the end, no matter how much teasing there is,Spencer is, in both of their eyes,the one that is suppose to be the one being happy. "Mailbox. I will try again later it's still early maybe he over slept."

"Alright, tell me if he calls?"

"Of course." Morgan was just about to leave when Hotch asks him to stay back.

"We don't have to talk about it-"

"We do. We should have a long time ago."

"You want to do that here?" Sceptical Morgan looks around the room.

"If you are comfortable with that."

"I am." Morgan sits down in the chair in front of Hotch's desk.

"I think we should be more open to each other about this. I think we should talk about thinks."

"Not above his head. With him."

"Of course." As if they summoned him the door opens and Spencer freezes in his place.

"I am sorry sir I didn't knock. Just wanted to let you know, that I am sorry for being late."

"Apology accepted why don't you come in and close the door behind you?"

"Sir?"

"That's an order." Morgan watches Spencer submit to the request and then sits down in the chair next to Morgan's. "We were just talking about you."

"Why? Did I do something wrong?" Wounded Spencer looks at Hotch and then at Morgan his eyes alerted at the possibility of them ending things.

"No,god no." Morgan suppresses the urge to physically comfort him. Since they started this, whenever Spencer even looks the slightest bit upset he wants to hold him, to kiss him,to protect him.

"We- or at least I thought that it would be nice to have things more communicated between the three of us." Hotch explains leaning forward on his desk and folding his hands.

"What is there to communicate?"

"Nothing you don't want." Morgan gives in to his urges and gently strokes the hair out of Spencer's face. "But I think Hotch means trying thinks with the three of us? And in generally me and Hotch talking more instead of just ignoring the fact that both of us sleep with you."

"The three of us?"

"Only if you want." Hotch assures him. "Nothing will happen that you don't want you know that."

Second chapter:

The first thing that gets changed is the fact that he and Morgan don't have a safeword. Hotch nearly rips Morgan's head off when he finds out but Morgan and Spencer just didn't to stuff before were he thought that was required but they decided on a safeword and the colour system just like Hotch and him use it.

And Morgan takes it seriously, when he learns that it makes Spencer feel a lot safer. "You good?"

"Yes?"

"Colour?"

"Green." Green means he is okay and that they can continue. Yellow means to slow down and maybe move on to something different and red means stop. He starts moving inside of him, making him moan ones.

"Don't be quiet."

The second thing that gets changed is that the other knows when Spencer is with one of them.

But the third thing, and that makes Spencer the most nervous is trying things with all three of them.

While Hotch would just ring at the door and then quickly move things into the bedroom, Morgan normally takes his time with him first, making sure he isn't interrupting Spencer with anything, spending time with him that isn't just sex and they had talked about it and Spencer after a lot of nudging from both of them gave in and shyly said how he wanted it to go down and that he would be more comfortable spending time together first and Hotch, against Spencer's believes doesn't mind at all.

They go to a football game. It wasn't anything that both of them had expected but Spencer had asked for something that completely rules out the possibility that they start things early and it pained both of them to see how self consciousness Spencer was about voicing his needs.

Hotch is having the most guilt when he leaves Spencer's apartment late at night, Spencer bruised up in his bed, fast asleep.

Morgan's guilt hits the most over the day when he sees Spencer failing miserably at tasks, doing things like a child would do them, he sometimes thinks he takes his innocence away.

Spencer is sitting in Morgan's lap, being erger about understanding the game while Hotch isn't sure if it isn't just a facade to cover up his anxious mind about what will happen later. Morgan has one arm wrapped around him, holding him in place.

"Spencer breathe." Hotch reminds him in his ramble and Spencer looks at him and for a moment he can see the how frighten he us and he knows Morgan had seen it too.

They don't try it that evening the moment when they come home instead when they arrive at the apartment they sit down at the table in the kitchen and Spencer tells them how he is afraid because Morgan and Hotch are as different as people in bed can be.

"Why does that scare you?"

"I don't want one of you to- to feel left out."

"That is what scares you this much?" Hotch asks his face softening even more.

"I don't want to have to chose."

"You won't have to."

"You promise?"

"Yeah." Hesitant Hotch puts his hand above Spencer's. "Is there something else?"

"No."

"Are absolutely sure?" Morgan questions, he has the feeling Spencer isn't telling them everything that is on his mind and Hotch had too but Spencer assures them he will be fine.

Third chapter:

Spencer and Morgan are the first ones to be naked. Morgan sitting against the headboard and Spencer between his legs while Hotch still strips in front of them, Morgan's hand moving up and down Spencer's inner thigh calming him down while he slowly gets hard and then he giggles ones, at Hotch stumbling over something on the floor and Morgan didn't think he would ever see the day his boss makes himself look redicules just so Spencer relaxes.

He moves onto the bed, pressing a kiss to Spencer's lips, shocking the younger Agent and then starting to move down his neck while Morgan's hands with ever stroke up and down moves closer to his crotch until the first time a finger touches his length and he whimpers ones in Hotch's mouth who moves his knees up nudging Spencer's cock ones and then moving it back again but pressing him more into Morgan's chest and Spencer can feel Morgan's erection against his back and a little moan escapes Morgan's lips as he feels the man pressing against it. And for a moment it was just that, Hotch kissing him, while he tries to find out what makes Morgan feel good in the moment and then he remembers how he can't also help Hotch and he starts spiraling again. The thing that this should help him with acts up and he moves his hands up to Hotch's chest to push him off, gaining space but the man doesn't react and his heart is pounding, skipping a beat and then luckily Morgan catches Spencer's distress. "Hotch stop." He does, moving back from Spencer and Morgan pulls his leg away from him closing them so Spencer isn't feeling his erection anymore and Spencer sobs ones. Trying to catch a breath and Hotch leans forward pulling him into a hug.

"It's okay, you are okay."

"I don't want it anymore."

"That's okay,you are okay,no one is mad at you." He pulls Spencer in his lap, and Morgan takes a blanket wrapping it around Spencer before he leans down against Hotch's chest, calming down slowly while Morgan gets dressed. "You did nothing wrong, it's okay." Hotch presses a kiss to Spencer's forehead. "Its okay."

Since Hotch is the one he clinches too,he is the one staying the night,making sure Spencer is okay and he can see the relive on Morgan's face when Spencer walks into the bullpen next morning.

Fourth chapter:

It takes two months for them to try again. "Breath baby boy." Morgan tells him pulling him closer to his chest, this time Morgan is still wearing sweatpants, as he hold him. "It's alright, we will stop anytime and we will tell you what to do." Erger and afraid at the same time he nods, biting down on his lip and Morgan presses a kiss to his cheek and Hotch moves in again, kissing him on the mouth but quickly going down on him, placing kisses all over his tight while Morgan kisses his neck and cheek, until Spencer squirmes between his leg and both man stop. "Colour?"

"Green." He presses Morgan's hand ones and then brings out:"Feels good. It feels nice." And Morgan can see the bulb in Spencer's underwear that was the only thing keeping him from being completely naked. "Please keep going?" He more asks then tells Hotch and the man laughs ones, kissing him again and then moves down again.

"Can I?" Passionate but agitated Hotch looks up to Spencer, his hand at the waistband of his underwear.

"Yes." Ones the underwear was gone Morgan moves his hand down, stocking the length and Hotch moves from the bed getting rid of his clothes and then moves back into his positions starting to kiss his inner tights again till his mouth meets Spencer's hard penis and he first only takes the head in his mouth. Playing with his tongue while Spencer grabs Morgan's hand harder turning his head and buring it in his neck,panting when Hotch stops asking for his colour. "Green."

"You promise?"

"Yes- yes keep going." Hotch does eventhough normally he is the one commenting him around. And Spencer feels Morgan's free hand guiding down his ass cheeks until one finger strokes his hole and he flinches, his knee jerking up almost hitting Hotch in the face.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. You are doing good." Morgan promises him, not taking his hand away but leaning down to the mean clinching to his arm, having his face pressed against Morgan's shoulder. "Breath in and out what is wrong?"

"I don't know." Gently Hotch opens his legs again, pressing his knees down into the mattress and starts again while Morgan gets him used to his hand before he puts one finger in and Hotch is still going down on him and he doesn't know if he can hold much longer. "I am gonna cum."

"That's okay."

"No."

"It is, cum for us." Morgan tells him moving his finger up and down knowing that this is still all Hotch's work.

"Aaron-" Spencer's hand moves up to Hotch's hair. "I am gonna- Please-" Morgan uses the moment and adds a second finger and when he comes, with a loud moan and Hotch moves back he flips him over, still panting from the orgasm and Morgan moves his fingers up and down his hole while Hotch starts jerking himself off, both of the other man painfully hard but wanting to make sure Spencer gets the most pleasure out of this. "Colour?"

"Yellow." Morgan slows down a little bit giving Spencer time to get used to the two fingers and then eventually moves them. Opening them causing Spencer to moan and then he moves in a third and finding Spencer's sweet spot making him jerk but Morgan presses him down again.

"You think you can take Hotch already?" Hotch makes a mental note to remind Morgan to not call him that in bed.

"Please." Morgan leans down pressing a kiss to Spencer's cheek and hits the spot a few more times before pulling out and moving away from him, getting out of his clothes while both men make Spencer wait, who is moving against the sheets wanting to please the erection that is forming again but Hotch stops him and when Morgan was back on the bed, he pulls Spencer up by his hip. "Please Aaron. Please- Please ." To Spencer's surprise the moment Hotch's top meets his hole Morgan grabs his cock, stocking up and down and Hotch pushes in carefully,making Spencer whimper.

"It's okay, breath." He let's him catch his breath and Morgan slowly starts moving his hand up and down again while Hotch gives him more time. "You okay?"

"To much." Morgan stops and moves between Spencer and the headboard starting to kiss him while Hotch starts to move and then guides Spencer head down to his own penis and Spencer gets adjusted and starts sucking him off, moaning around his length whenever Hotch hits his postage and eventually gags when he hits harder and they slow down for a moment making sure he is okay and then Hotch continues and Morgan comes first and Spencer swallows most of it looking up to him with cum dripping down from his chin shortly before he cums himself and then places his head on Morgan's tight while Hotch continues thrusting into him till he comes inside of him.

"Come here." Morgan pulls Spencer up kissing him on the mouth, pulling him closer into his lap and Hotch stands up, walking into the bathroom were he let's a bath running to place Spencer in who tiredly lets Morgan wash him while Hotch holds his head.

"Don't fall asleep." With foam on his hands he wipes hair out of his face, making him look up to him with big and slightly red glassy eyes and gets why Morgan finds so much comfort in taking care of him.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #ao3 author #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #moreid #heid #smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Bare Oneself and One’s Soul (Bi!Spencer Reid x Male!Reader)

Summary: Sex workers and strippers are being killed in Portland, Maine. The BAU team investigates the fourth and attempts to build a profile. But with part of the puzzle still missing, the reader contemplates offering to revisit a previous profession of theirs - the oldest in the business - to draw out the unsub.

AN: My first fic for Criminal Minds! I started watching the show about two weeks ago and I cannot stop. I’m on series 4 so no spoilers for me please! I would like to open requests soon, still wanna write more diverse readers hence why this is my first entry into this fandom. 

Thank you @imagining-in-the-margins​ for inspiring me with your Bi The Way fic and answering my queries! You’re the bee’s knees!

Feedback and requests to be tagged in specific fics are welcome

Word count: 6.9k words

Content Warnings: Descriptions of violence, descriptions of dead bodies, homophobia, threats of outing, stripping, lap dances (mild NSFW), Gone Girl spoilers. Please let me know if I have missed anything!

Your name: submit What is this?

“Dancing, at its best, is independence and intimacy in balance.” ― Donna Goddard, The Love of Devotion

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was already hard enough with this job. But someone targeting sex workers and the like, that was going to make things harder. The victims were anonymous in the eyes of the general public, subhuman, not worthy of being reported to warn others in their profession. Furthermore, the associates of the victims were not likely to talk to law enforcement.

Emily, Derek and Y/N returned to the temporary base of operations, having already faced this reality with the limited responses garnered from very few witnesses.

Only the recycling guy who found the latest body was willing and that was a stretch on the definition.

In the police station, Hotch was sifting through the security tapes he had access to, JJ at his side trying to spot the unsub. Spencer was building up a geographical profile and Rossi was out speaking to the family of the latest victim.

Y/N helped Morgan hand out the coffees they’d picked up, dropping a hefty amount of sugar packets and a disposable stirrer on the desk beside where Spencer was working. He stared up at the map and tried to clear his mind in case an epiphany decided to pass by.

The fourth victim was exactly like the three previous. The body was found down the back alley of a local nightclub, this one called Red Effort, and it was sat up daintily in the corner made of the building and a dumpster. A plastic bag was over the head. An expensive silk tie for a gag left in the mouth. Evidence of another used to tie the wrists together but that tie was gone. Other than that, the body was stripped naked.

“The bag wasn’t used in the suffocation; it was put on after death. The unsub couldn’t look at the victim after he’d killed him,” Y/N theorised, “But the nudity has a statement of sadism.”

Derek pointed to the photograph of the fourth victim’s neck, “Bruises around his neck show that strangulation killed him. Some kind of rope, possibly a belt about inch and a half wide, just like the others. But the tie is what gets me. Why leave one in the mouth but not the other around the hands? And why not leave the belt?”

“Hermès is an expensive brand,” JJ said, “But if it was cost the unsub was worried about, they wouldn’t leave the other behind. It must be something sentimental about that tie but not the other items used.”

Moving on, Spencer’s geographical profile highlighted the clubs’ connections. Utopia, Pulse Point, Move, and now Red Effort had tacks in them, standing out over the map. His “colouring in” highlighted clearly the MO of the killer they were after: it was someone local stalking the clubs over the last two weeks.

“The previous attacks show that they are only in the city and the unsub doesn’t hit the same club twice - at least so far. The next target is likely to be one of these three clubs in the radius: Focus, Potential, or Encore.”

“Anything in the CCTV?” Rossi asked.

JJ pinched the bridge of her nose, “Nothing so far from Garcia.”

“Well, I think we’re ready to present the profile to your officers, so if you could get everyone together, we can begin.”

When the group of officers had their notebooks at the ready, Hotch began:

“We’re looking for a man in his mid-thirties to late forties. When he’s in these clubs, he will seem confident and charming, even if he is a lone man amidst multiple women.”

Then Prentiss took over, “He is voyeuristic, hence why he is targeting strip clubs instead of approaching a prostitute. He likes to watch his victims perform, see them with other men before he makes his move.

“Outside of the club, he is less confident,” said Y/N, “He may present himself as heterosexual, probably married which is why he can’t target these men during the day. Going into the city likely means that he lives in the suburbs.”

Morgan continued, “His sexuality is warped; violence is what produces sexual release in his mind. The strangulation method, using a belt, shows that he doesn’t have enough strength themselves to take out their victims. He has to get their complete vulnerability before he can strike.”

Spencer turned away from his map to point to the evidence board, “He is targeting young men, strippers. Some of his victims were prostitutes. They were all brunettes, slim build, all performed on a stage in a nightclub the night they died, and witnesses have confirmed that they gave dances to men and women.”

“This unsub is escalating,” Rossi concluded, “The first attack was five days apart; the last was only two days. These are vulnerable people who need our help. Let’s catch this guy before he hurts any more people.”

A few hours later and Y/N was paired up with Emily at Focus. Drinking water in opaque glasses, they moved subtly to the music with their eyes steady across the club’s topography. The debrief played over and over in Y/N’s mind.

Although, his mind did stray to the fact that it was odd being in one of these clubs again. Being on the other end too, as a “customer”. Not disconcerting, just odd.

“Leather jacket, three o’clock.”

Over the rim of his glass, Y/N followed Emily’s direction and found their suspect. He was looking at a woman who was giddily on the receiving end of a lap dance.

No.

He was looking at the dancer. The man who was sporting some body paint that blended well with his tiger print shorts.

“You got eyes on him?” Emily spoke under her breath.

“I do.”

The suspect passed the dancer gradually, sauntering whilst making steady eye contact. Then his head snapped in the other direction and he walked right out of the club, still unhurried. The dancer’s stare lingered after him before he finished up his routine, flirtatiously thanked the ladies for their generous tip. He walked in the direction the suspect had gone.

Without speaking, Emily and Y/N were next to leave after the suspect. Their guns were drawn once the cool air of the night hit them through the back exit. A streetlamp’s light threw the two men’s identities into silhouettes. Emily and Y/N approached with as much stealth as the bare alleyway would give them before Emily made the call.

The suspect reached out to the dancer and Emily shouted, “FBI! Hands where I can see ‘em!”

The suspect looked more annoyed than surprised or scared of the guns pointed at him, “Hey, woah, what’s going on?”

“Hands up!” Y/N repeated sternly.

Y/N got the suspect in handcuffs not seconds after complying, Emily moving over to the dancer to check that he was alright.

“Derek?” The suspect screwed his features up, straining to turn and look Y/N in the eye.

Y/N cut him off, “Shut up.”

But still, as the suspect was dragged over to the cop car parked at the kerb, he remarked, “You’ve grown into your big boy pants.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Rossi unlinked his fingers and pressed them into the case file, pushing the photograph across the table to where Fabian O’Conner was sitting. The Encore club’s new manager had kept up his act of being more irked with the officers than intimidated. He was sloppy in his body language, especially after only five hours sleep in a cell and another hour in that uncomfortable chair, not taking any of Rossi’s questions seriously. All Fabian talked about was his club and how shit things were for him in the last fortnight.

“I’ve had three cancellations alone this week!”

Behind the glass, Emily looked to Y/N, “Why’d he call you Derek?”

Y/N was about to lie through his teeth when Hotch’s mobile trilled on the desk.

“Hotchner… OK… alright, we’ll be on the scene right away.” Hotch hung up and looked grimly at his team, “There’s been another murder, at Potential.”

JJ pointed at Fabian who was swinging on the chair’s back legs, “Well, it wasn’t him, so either he has an accomplice or we got something wrong in the profile that meant the unsub slipped past unnoticed.”

“Prentiss, JJ, Morgan, let’s get to the scene,” Hotch instructed, “Reid, Y/N, stay here, keep us updated on what Rossi gets out of this guy.”

As he watched his colleagues exit the building, Y/N wiped his cheek with the back of his left hand, “I’m gonna make more coffee, Spencer, you want any?”

“Please,” Spencer replied, looking over his shoulder with that white people smile he’d nailed over the years. Tossing a thumb’s up in his direction, Y/N headed off to get them their drinks.

“Why would he kill at the risk of losing business himself?” Reid asked him when he returned, sliding the paper cups onto the desk.

“That’s what doesn’t make sense to me,” said Y/N, “Fabian’s all about business. Plus, he’s the straightest guy I’ve ever met, don’t think he’d be within fifty miles of comfortable leaving these bodies naked.”

Before Spencer could ask how Y/N would know something like that, his phone rang out and he placed it on speaker phone.

“Garcia, whatcha got?”

“An update on that evidence of yours yesterday,” She spoke, “The tie is a very specific kind. Limited edition at Hermès, bought recently online. The paper trail leads us to a Mr Andrew Lowenthal who lives not a mile away from the city. Prentiss and Morgan went to go check out his home.”

“Brilliant, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, boy genius.”

She hung up before Spencer could but Spencer was already off on a tangent: “Limited collection, they’d stand out to the owner, so maybe they’re left as a message for someone.”

“But who?” Y/N asked the obvious.

He tapped his pen against the post mortem report that hid the corpse’s photographs. Something about those ties just stick in Y/N’s head. They kept reminding him of the ex-boyfriend in Gone Girl, his aversion for all the ties Amy bought him. The same ties Amy used to ruin his life, and that same ex-boyfriend couldn’t say anything at all about it.

Unfortunately, Rossi couldn’t get much more out of Fabian and he was let go. The alibi he’d given was checked out and found to be watertight. Apparently he was just looking in his competitor’s club for a dancer who had left Encore a week ago.

The investigation proved to be more fruitful outside of the station however when, a few hours later, JJ appeared with her notebook, “This girl Emily and I interviewed yesterday, she won’t tell me her real name, but she was there today at Focus. Says she saw a woman this time, a woman walking with Daniel into the alleyway behind the club.”

Hotch’s phone was heard entering the building before he was, buzzing in his palm before he promptly answered once in the room, “Emily, you’re on speaker.”

“So Andrew Lowenthal was home. Get this: he’s gay.”

“What?”

“We caught him packing his things to move out. Andrew came out to his wife Marcie recently and she reacted badly, threw a fit, accused him of cheating. Andrew says he’s been meeting with a man, a stripper, he won’t name him but he says they’ve been working through understanding his sexuality. Who can say if he’s really cheating or not, but this all came out a fortnight ago.”

Morgan continued, “Right when the killings started. Marcie won’t ask for a divorce, she’s threatened to out him though. She’s been staying out late as well on the nights the murders happened.”

Hotch looked at the case file in front of him, up at the geographical profile up on the board.

“Alright, thank you. Come back to the station.”

“The reason the unsub got away is because we thought the unsub was a man,” Y/N sighed as Hotch hung up.

Hotch was quick on the contradiction, “We can’t rule out Andrew yet. All the witnesses so far have said the victims were seen a man.”

“Yes, while they were at the club, but they were killed after work in the alley, not in the private rooms they rented!” Spencer pointed out the security tracking the movements of the victims next to his map, “After she, the unsub, had confirmed that these men would dance and, in her mind, sleep with other men!”

“He’s right,” Y/N supported, “It’s how the unsub would verify that her next victims were involved in homosexual activities. I should have thought of that sooner.”

Garcia was up on the phone immediately, searching for Marcie Lowenthal amidst the security footage. The genius that she was, it only took her a minute to find the new suspect at every single crime scene. The clips appeared on the laptop screen and played, this time with a box around the woman’s face to bring her out against the rest of the image.

“Marcie Lowenthal,” JJ pointed to her image on the screen. Garcia was correct, she had been right there, at the corner of each photo printed off from the other clubs

JJ carried on as the conversation between Daniel and Marcie unfolded onscreen, “Around the middle of the night, approaches Daniel, arranges to meet him outside in the alley once he’s finished work.”

“And we thought she was just too nervous to instigate a dance with them,” Derek bit his lip hard, “So what do we do now? She’s not at work, she’s in the air until she kills again. She’s been escalating, so she’ll kill again tonight.”

It was then that Y/N decided to jump in with the idea he had been brewing since his second cup of coffee:

“I could go undercover in one of the clubs.”

Hotch stared for a moment at Y/N, clearly caught off guard by the outburst, before speaking in that collected drone of his, “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Each club is hit once, Encore is one of two potential spots left, the unsub is escalating so they will be at one tonight. It’s “Boys in the Buff’ at Encore tonight, so likelihood of them being there is high compared to Potential’s ‘Dollar a Drink’ gimmick, OK? It’s just a suggestion. If we have another plan, I’m all ears.”

“You fit the MO, but how would you even blend in?” Spencer asked.

The next bit came out a lot easier than when Y/N had expected.

“When I was here during college, I used to be a stripper at Encore, before I worked in the FBI. ‘Derek’ was my pseudonym. Fabian was a bouncer at Encore before he became manager.”

The wave of expressions changing throughout the room were significant: jaws slacking; a little lift in an eyebrow; most notably, silence.

Rossi walked into the room, completely ignorant to the tone set by Y/N’s revelation, “Marcie Lowenthal’s next move is at Encore. She’s building up to Focus where her husband has been going. Garcia tracked his car’s GPS to that club five times in the last month.”

“So, what you’re saying is that Encore is the next step and then Focus,” Y/N fidgeted with his pen.

Hotch turned back at Y/N and in his usual calm and collected tone he spoke, “Tell us what you need for this.”

“I’ll need an hour to warm up, a slot on stage, and a guy to dance with then take to a private room. And some hot pants.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Encore was empty, the stage free from dancers, the bar barren.

It was always weird to look at a club when it was empty and all the normal lights were on. Even more so that it had been redecorated in Y/N’s hiatus from Portland, highlighting how surreal it was to be back.

Y/N climbed up onto the stage and surveyed the empty seats. Then he began to warm himself up. A grunt escaped him every now and again, fighting against his stiff joints. Thankfully, the BAU was another job that kept fitness levels high as a necessity.

Humming his chosen song, Y/N began to test his flexibility against the pole. Muscle memory brought back his techniques one after the other. He repeated one of his old routines in broken segments, saving the transitions for last before he was ready to properly rehearse it. With a sigh, he took off his button up, leaving only the tight spandex that wrapped his crotch in a deep cherry red.

“Nice package.”

Mimi was watching from the side of the stage, her heels dangling by the straps on the tips of two fingers. A fond smile played on her lips, one that grew into a toothy grin filled with genuine glee as she approached him.

“Hey!” Y/N finally retorted, though there was that same playfulness in his voice that meant he didn’t take the comment on his junk to heart.

“Hello,” Mimi gave him a warm embrace, “What are you doing back here, you idiot?”

Y/N settled for the excuse of needing a few extra bucks and figured it would be nice to join in the gender equality of male strippers. Mimi didn’t seem convinced.

“You choose that now? When all those guys in the other clubs are getting murdered?”

“I’ll be sure not to follow anyone the alley. Are you doing ok?”

“All good.”

“Really? I’ve seen you at some of the crime scenes, talking with the FBI.”

“I’m safe, especially with my girls.”

“Speaking of, it’s ladies’ night, what are you doing here?”

“Just picking up something I forgot,” and she poked him in the centre of his chest, “Good luck tonight.”

Y/N rubbed that spot as she left the club, “Thanks.”

Not much else happened between Y/N finishing up his rehearsal and the club opening. The conversations in the dressing room was soon drowned out by the din of eager customers waiting.

To say that Y/N was more nervous about dancing in front of his co-workers – his actual co-workers, not the other dancers – than performing in front of a serial killer would be an understatement. He had gone to the toilet three times in the last ten minutes. And that was saying something; the men’s loos were beyond disgusting.

On the steps up, he could see Emily was at the bar with JJ. They looked normal enough. Two gals on a night out to a strip club. A quick scan found Derek near the door with one of the bouncers. Hotch and Rossi were hidden in the security room, and the other agents at their aid were outside with civvies over protective gear. Everyone was watching as the announcer introduced him as “Derek” for his walk across the stage. Whoops and whistles followed him as he preened for the women in the seats down below.

Then he found Spencer. For once, he was dressed like he was from Las Vegas. Loud colours splashed across his shirt, clashing with the strobe lights. But he definitely stood out as one man amongst tens of women.

And thus began behaving “normally”. Y/N’s head space allowed him to move with ease throughout the groups of women to make it towards Spencer, who had already locked eyes on him.

His hand was shaking a little as he touched Spencer’s shoulder going past. It was a repeat of an action he’d seen on one of the tapes: keeping eye contact with a potential wallet he could dance for before pretending to drop interest.

The look between them was another matter. Eye contact was something that made the both of Y/N and Spencer nervous, but not when it was with each other. That comfort that was oft shared across the table at a meeting still comforted Y/N as his hand fell from Spencer and back to his side. The warmth of it spread through his body and gave new life to his confidence. He was safe. His team were all here. He was going to be fine. He was going to be brilliant.

The first up on the stage to perform was a man, taller and buffer than Y/N, dressed as a fireman. He swept a woman from the audience off her chair in the middle of the routine.

The second was a trio of oiled up men, weaving in and out the front row between exaggerated erotic dance moves. It was a bit of a laugh, goofy with the hen do at the front egging them on.

And now it was his turn.

“Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and then see what we find?”

Y/N took his time stepping up to the pole, using the sultry slow beat of the music to his best advantage. Knowing most of the club had their eyes on him was horrendous and enthralling simultaneously. The next four minutes were crucial for attracting the unsub.

He performed a reverse grab to face his audience dead on.  Hung gracefully upside down, still moving around the pole.

The murmurs of awe were appreciated but not what the unsub was looking for.

Time to up the ante.

Dismounting the pole, Y/N dragged a chair into the centre of the walkway. He pretended to survey everyone at the front of the stage before landing on Spencer. There, he knelt forward and held out his hand. As soon as his grip reached Spencer’s wrist, Y/N pulled him up and onto the chair.

In position, he ignored all the women screaming in the crowds, ignored the fetishization at their expense. He focused on Spencer. And that awful shirt.

He kept an inch between them for now, but Spencer wasn’t tense as he had imagined. No, Spencer was lounging back, and basking in the performance. The smile on his face, it was daring Y/N to move closer.

Spreading his legs to stand between them, Y/N touched him first. He could feel the padding of Spencer’s bulletproof vest beneath his shirt’s soft fabric. At the ends of those lovely arms (the ones often hidden beneath those cardigans) Spencer’s hands twitched.

Y/N backed up against him like he had done with the pole. A cinematic parallel the women definitely appreciated. Bringing those long legs back together, Y/N made himself comfortable on his lap, a fingertip facing the threat of being cut as it dragged along Spencer’s jaw. That prickle of stubble sparked against him. Their faces so close that his lips so close to brushing over Spencer’s, barely any space for the crooning of the possessive lyrics to reach between them. Straddling Spencer gave Y/N even more confidence. He continued to tease Spencer, taking in the smell of the sweat from the light’s heat and his skin’s flush, bolded in bright pink. His lips at his throat, they dragged across the swell of his Adam’s apple that quaked beneath him as Spencer swallowed.

They heard a whistle from the crowds that was almost definitely from JJ, spurring on the crowd to react louder. But over their roars, Y/N heard a gasp fly from Spencer. His eyes instinctively drifted down to look at Spencer’s open mouth, down further at where he was sat. Even if Y/N couldn’t feel everything, the trousers were doing nothing to hide how Spencer was feeling.

Bills were flying onto the stage floor. Y/N continued to play his part, arching his body to ripple against Spencer’s. But Spencer caught his hip, his bottom lip now bitten as he let out a groan, low enough to not be heard over the music’s closing bars. But it was clear that his reaction sparked something in the audience. Y/N leant back to survey his handiwork, twirling a loose lock of Spencer’s hair around his finger in the space between them. Then his hand drew away and left that hair in his face before climbing off him and walking off the stage with a blackout - bar one pink spot left on Spencer.

The second he was off stage, Y/N turned around and watched from the wings. Spencer rose from the chair and took a little bow. He bowed again much to the pleasure of the crowd. As he walked down the steps, Y/N could see that he was very clearly aroused.

Y/N made his way out as soon as the audience’s attention was on the stage. He knew the unsub would still be watching Spencer, now stood at the bar and sipping from a glass. It was hard not to feel the sting of a serial killer’s stare as he approached Spencer with a coy smile.

“Hey.”

Turning to face him, Spencer finished his drink before speaking, “Hello, Derek.”

“Hope you enjoyed yourself up there.”

“I did.” And he leant against the bar leisurely, his hand pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, “Any chance of another round? Without the crowd this time.”

Plucking the money free with one hand, Y/N beckoned with the other, “Right this way, sir.”

Both men could see the unsub watching them in the reflection of the ceiling, following them until they filtered through the beaded curtains. Spencer went into the private room first. Y/N closed the door, trapping them in a room of mirrors and flooded pink light over a disco ball - music only muted slightly on the tiny speakers. The epitome of sleaze.

“The unsub followed us here,” Y/N dropped his act and the dollar bills onto the couch arm, falling into one half of the seat.

After a moment, Spencer sat down beside him. The cuffs of his trousers hitched up, revealing the Reid Special that was mismatching socks. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment.

“Uh, what happened out there…”

Spencer struggled to find the words so Y/N jumped in, “Don’t even worry about it. You’re not the first guy to pop a boner when I’m dancing.”

Even with that reassurance, Spencer was tenacious in explaining himself, “I want you to know I wasn’t creeping on you, and that I was focused on the situation at hand. It’s just, when an attractive man is mostly undressed and dancing like that right in front of me -” he paused to look at Y/N for the first time since they’d entered the private room “- Well, that was the most natural response.”

“I get it. It’s all good.”

Spencer, the germaphobe, perching on a couch that was definitely not up to any kind of sanitary standard, wearing that horrendous gaudy shirt, decided to strike up conversation.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Become a stripper.”

“Kept me fit during college and the tips were good.”

“Then why’d you quit?”

“I wanted to be an agent more than I wanted money.”

Eventually the wordless drone of EDM faded and Shook Me All Night Long began to beat across the room. Y/N jumped right up onto his feet, his hands open and out for Spencer to take, “Come on, up. No way to pass the time like dancing. And I’m not talking the kind from onstage!”

Spencer’s frown was hilariously contradictory, “We are tracking a serial killer, who likely has you for her next target.”

“I know, but we’re in a private room, and we’ve got another fifteen minutes at least to pass. We can’t do anything else, so up!”

“Y/N, I don’t dance. You know that.”

Sighing, Y/N’s head lolled back then rolled around to look Spencer dead in the eye, “Think logically. You need to leave this room, looking like you’ve just gotten the lap dance of your life, all hot and bothered. Either you get up and dance, or I’m gonna have to get in your lap again.”

Spencer blinked, “I know you think that’s a threat, but it’s really not.”

That caught Y/N off guard, and again when Spencer stood up and began a very awkward, very out of time two-step. Y/N let Spencer’s words go to focus on getting him more pumped.

“There we go! Let your body do all the talking.”

“My body is telling me to sit down.”

“Well… Ignore it then. It’s just us!”

Now, when his dances were coordinated like the one he had performed on stage, Y/N was rather good. Dancing outside of the stripping profession however was not his forte. One might even say he was worse than Spencer in this regard. Somehow the random arm movements alongside the bouncing on the balls of his feet were classified as “dancing”.

Spencer couldn’t laugh; his efforts, once he matched the energy, were no better. His curly hair jumping just a little delayed, that one lock that Y/N had pulled onstage still separate, he tried the headbanging like Y/N suggested. It was somewhat terrible, but not completely.

It was midway through the second song that the men fully allowed themselves to enjoy this silly moment in the sea of seriousness.

Only when Locked out of Heaven faded into more EDM did they stop for breath. They went halves on the couch and soaked up the temporary respite.

“Can’t imagine if it was Hotch in here instead of you,” Y/N panted. Spencer let out a little wheeze at the notion as he continued, “Not to undermine the importance of the job but I was glad it was you I was going undercover with. And I think you’re quite attractive too.”

It only took a fraction of a second for Spencer to understand what Y/N was referring to at the end. With a surge of confidence, he replied, “Only quite?”

“No offence to that exploding rainbow of a shirt, but I prefer you in your usual button-up and tie.”

They shared so much in that moment. Smiles, breath, honesty, the couch, endorphins. It went beyond the eye contact across the conference room’s table.

In a spike of nerves, Spencer reverted back to a constant in his life: facts.

“You know, dancing is meant to improve problem solving skills and reduces cortisol – a stress hormone – in the body. Furthermore, Dr Lovatt proved that dancing helps with social bonding. The synchrony involved in dancing to a beat along with other people is a powerful way for humans to connect.”

Y/N propped his head against his hand, arm leaning on the back of the couch as he watched Spencer’s facts unfurl.

“I didn’t know that,” He said quietly, “But it explains why it made me feel better about going back out there.”

“You weren’t nervous though. You weren’t tapping.” And Spencer pointed to Y/N’s hands, still as the rest of him.

Flexing his fingers before relaxing again, Y/N dared to look at Spencer again, “It’s why I said I’m glad I’m undercover with you.”

Spencer held that look, just for a little longer than before, checked his watch, “I guess we should get going if we wanna catch Marcie Lowenthal.”

“I suppose we’ll have to do our jobs,” sighed Y/N, only half joking.

Just before he was about to leave, Spencer was stopped by Y/N, who proceeded to untuck Spencer’s shirt and pull the end of his belt out of the loop.

“Make sure she sees you looking like this.”

Spencer gave him an incongruously polite nod before exiting. Once in view of the unsub, he made a show of adjusting his appearance before going to the bar to get another drink. Y/N took his time before coming out with the stack of bills tucked into his hot pants.

His dancing continued but back to its regularly slutty program. It was an hour with a hen do, six women who were tipsy and very liberal with their dollars. Sometimes Y/N found JJ and Emily while he was blending in, and though he couldn’t smile, and neither could they, he felt that safety net secured. Safer still when he passed them by on his way to the bar where Marcie Lowenthal was nursing a beer in a flower-patterned shirt and black skirt.

She was the one who initiated contact, stroking over Y/N’s arm to get his attention as he passed.

“Hello,” Marcie leant over to speak in his ear, “I enjoyed your dance earlier.”

“Thank you.”

“You versatile?”

“I can be anything you want.” And Y/N touched her waist, “I can make you feel good.”

With a catlike grin, Marcie leant in to whisper, “When do you get off?”

“Doesn’t matter if I do, it’s all about you, darling.” She let out a bark of laughter before Y/N managed to answer her question properly, “I finish in an hour.”

It was then that he realised Marcie was gripping his arm tight, “Meet me outside, in the back alley, in fifteen minutes.”

The team was right; she was escalating, devolving now that she was planning the murder before the night was done.

Y/N kept up the mask of intrigue, though he was cringing into himself underneath. “In here not good enough for you?”

“I like it dirty.”

“Alright then. I’ll see you there.” He winked before heading towards the dressing room.

His palms were a bit sweaty. That soon changed as he stepped outside in just his pants and a button up he’d brought for this very occasion. The alleyway seemed empty, aside from the unsub waiting by the dumpster. But Y/N kept faith that his team was ready and waiting nearby as he approached Marcie who was wrapped up in her leather jacket.

It was when she reached for something in her pocket that the hem lifted and Y/N saw the belt around her waist, hoisting the skirt up over her hips. About one and a half inches wide.

From her jacket pocket, Marcie procured a silk tie, “I like my men seen and not heard.”

“My safe-word is ‘alligator’,” Y/N said before opening his mouth.

Silk never was his favourite form of gag; it was too soft, too soggy once in the mouth. Marcie tied it roughly around the back of his head, causing Y/N to grunt and again when she tugged again with another around his wrists. Then he felt it. The cold tip of a blade pressed against his stomach.

“Turn around,” Marcie spoke through gritted teeth. A glance behind her and Y/N could see the shadows of his fellow agents gaining on them. Complying, he turned around as slowly as possible. The tip of the knife dragged across his skin.

“FBI! Marcie Lowenthal, drop the knife!“

Derek’s booming voice caught Marcie off guard, the knife breaking the skin of Y/N’s lower back.

“Drop it!” Hotch stated with less volume but just as much authority, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Drop the knife and step away from him,” Emily backed up from the other end of the alleyway, taking a step towards them.

Seeing that she was surrounded, Marcie crumbled and dropped the knife. It clinked away somewhere to the right. The team swarmed on her.

“Hands in the air, on your knees!”

The grind of handcuffs snapping around her wrists was the cue. Y/N ripped the gag from his mouth and began untying his hands; he was quick to pass the agents and officers to get on the street. There, he placed the tie in an evidence bag on his way out of the alleyway. Spencer, FBI vest atop his stripy shirt, held out Y/N’s coat for him. He thanked Spencer. He kept his “now I look like a flasher” comment to himself.

Lowenthal did not go quietly, not even as she was forced into a cop car to be driven to the station.

“Straight people are fucking headcases,” Y/N muttered to himself as he ducked around various onlookers.

“The tie,” Emily remarked as she saw the second one being examined, “It was her first anniversary present to Andrew. The others were ones purchased after he found out he was gay.”

“And Andrew couldn’t say anything about her behaviour or else she’d out him,” concluded Y/N.

With a nod, Emily touched his shoulder, “You alright?”

“Yeah, thanks,” and Y/N squeezed her hand before heading over to the club – hopefully for the last time. By the corner of the building, he found Mimi waiting and watching.

She spotted him and spoke quickly, “You take care of yourself.”

She pulled him into a hug. Y/N had enough time to say “you too” before breaking away and joining the team to drive back to the station. Mimi had already vanished from the scene by the time Y/N was looking out the passenger window, driving by the hubbub of Encore.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Thankfully, Y/N was granted the opportunity to change before getting on the jet home – as was Spencer. Both were in their comfort clothing: a hoodie and joggers, and a cardigan paired with slacks respectively. Claiming the couch, Y/N curled up around his pillow and rubbed over the bruise that he could feel growing on his shin. His friends were occupied with their own activities. Everyone was too wired to sleep.

“Get many tips?” Emily joked about fifteen minutes into the flight.

“I did alright, and no wank stains on ‘em either. Makes you rethink your career choices?”

“No stains? That’s how you know you’ve hit the big time.”

“I’m a luxury few can afford.” A pause followed as Y/N thought on the money tucked into his bag’s front pocket, then he addressed the cabin, “Y’all better not think any less of me because I used to strip.”

“Of course not,” JJ spoke up immediately, and a wave of agreement swept through the cabin.

“We’d never judge you for that,” Rossi added.

“Good,” Y/N stood up in the middle of the aisle, “Feel free to judge me for keeping these though.”

And he dropped his joggers to reveal a pair of hot pink hot pants with “BABY SLUT” in sparkly letters on his rear – just visible below the hem of his black FBI hoodie.

Instantly JJ and Derek exploded into splutters, Derek fumbling with his phone to take a photo. Emily was well on her way to laughter as she gawped and grinned. Spencer was hiding behind his book, his eyes peeking over the top. They were crinkled at the corners so Y/N could tell he was smiling. Even Rossi and Hotch had the tiniest of smirks that lit up their eyes with mirth.

“Look at you, Hot Stuff!” Derek cheered.

“Think this is a better uniform than the vest? Alright,” Y/N held a hand up to Hotch who had either opened his mouth to speak or had just forgotten to control his jaw, “I’m putting them away.”

Just like that, he pulled up his jogging bottoms again and fell back onto the couch, as if nothing ever happened. He was pleased as punch that he could joke about this with his co-workers and not at his expense.

A spare glance landed on Spencer, who had dropped his book into his lap and was suddenly very interested in the cuff of his left sleeve. Y/N made no comment but felt very pleased that he’d gotten another response from the doctor.

Sitting in silence, he folded his arms around the pillow, pulling it into his chest. That silence continued until they had landed and were back in the office to drop off the paperwork, ready for revisiting tomorrow. That was when they were alone, when Y/N made his move to speak to Spencer.

“Hey,” he started, drawing Spencer’s attention away from his shoulder bag, “I am sorry about all the touching on this case. I know you don’t like it.”

“Oh, I didn’t mind.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Spencer’s eyes widened and his hand reached out as if to grab them from the air and drag them back, “I, um, I mean I understood that you had- it was necessary for your cover to remain intact; you don’t have to apologise.”

Y/N couldn’t really do anything other than blink. It felt a little formal after their previous interactions, more awkward after the “attractive” comment they had shared.

“Good, no bad blood?”

“Not at all.”

Walking away from the desk when Spencer dragged Y/N’S attention back with a burst of words, “A-And I wanted to say I don’t care that you were a sex worker. In fact, I think you’re brave. Not just on this case; going up to on that stage when you were in college, dancing for all those people, and doing that with a serial killer last night, that took a lot of guts. I really respect that. You, I respect you, Y/N.”

God, that was attractive. That flow of words that were often statistics or fact Spencer had tucked away in that brain of his, something Y/N never wanted to interrupt and it was admiration, understanding, for him.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

Then Y/N remembered something else. The front pocket of his bag was unzipped and he held out the bills to Spencer, “Kept your private room refund stain free.”

The brushing of fingers during the exchange of money filled Y/N with more butterflies than the entire outing in the club.

“Thank you.” Spencer tapped the bills between his thumb and forefinger, looking back to Y/N, “Maybe I could buy you dinner some time, with this stain free money.”

Y/N bit the inside of his cheek to restrain his glee, yet still a comforting smile beamed at Spencer, “I’d like that.”

---> ---> ---> ---> ---> 

“Real intimacy is a sacred experience. It never exposes its secret trust and belonging to the voyeuristic eye of a neon culture. Real intimacy is of the soul, and the soul is reserved.” ― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #my writing #wc: 5k+ #imagine #r: male

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan: It’s Your Turn

Translator’s Note: This article comes from VogueMe Magazine 2020 Feb Issue.

Currently, the trend in the entertainment business is to get famous overnight, the statistics dictate everything – a drama, a variety show, a song… all of which could give birth to a super idol, fame, commercial value and opportunities that come along with it. In 2019, the drama “The Untamed”, adapted from an internet novel, became this window of opportunity. This is the story of a young man who received the opportunity. And like other idols created by their era, his fanbase grew immensely, radiating throughout the youth, his name etched in time. All of these simply points to this – it’s now Xiao Zhan’s turn.

1

The summer of 2015, Xiao Zhan had not yet realized that he was going to job switch from the design firm opened by his teacher. The teacher did not feel so as well – as Xiao Zhan left for the talent search variety show, he told him, “Go play, come back to work once you’ve been eliminated.”

The show was called “X-FIRE”, and positions itself as a large scaled youth talent development inspirational show. During broadcast, the description says “16 secretly trained youths painstakingly selected from a few thousand 16-24 year olds”. At that time, Xiao Zhan was 23 years old – nearing the upper age limit.

Xiao Zhan just wanted to “play around a bit”. He felt that he would be just touring for a round, and he would be back after a week. As the former class Cultural Committee Member in his university, Xiao Zhan loved singing, won quite a few inter-school cultural activities awards, but never trained in dance-singing. Xiao Zhan, who graduated in graphic design, learnt drawing since young, but never thought of becoming an artist, because “it is hard to survive as an artist, you still need to earn a living”. He was willing to lead a simple life and go to work everyday, with a direct and clear life plan – as a graphic designer, do his work well, then open his own firm.

The summer 4 years later, the name “Xiao Zhan” meant a lot of different things – a member of a pop group, the lead actor of one of the most popular drama, the owner of a Weibo account with more than 22million followers, or as what Chinese entertainment business puts it – a “top traffic”. The topics and imagery surrounding him includes – Xiao Zhan’s looks, Xiao Zhan’s design talent, Xiao Zhan’s professionalism, Xiao Zhan’s role as Wei Wuxian…

And like the other idols who broke out in this era, he has his own set of records – moderators of Bilibili (a video hosting site in China) nagged that his drama fans uploaded so much of his videos that they “almost see him 800 times a day”, Xiao Zhan was jokingly proclaimed as “The Man who caused the Bloodbath of Bilibili”; he became the cover person of a magazine, and the two mobile sales platform app broke down consecutively on the day of the sales; his popularity in 2020 only got higher – on 9 Jan, according to Tian Mao statistics (TN: Taobao eShopping Mall), the Portrait magazine, where he was the cover person, sold out 100,000 copies in 3 seconds, overall sales exceeding 13million Chinese yuan, a poster was spread all around the internet with the accompanying text “a fandom that brought paper media back from its grave” – this is the Xiao Zhan statistics.

But different from the breakout idols, Xiao Zhan did not encounter major controversies (TN: This was published early Feb), and his career did not seem to go through much fluctuations. He never thought that he would be at this point – “Sometimes you’re not ready, but life has already pushed you to ahead. What you can do is to quickly keep up with the pace.” He is now at the stage where any of his actions are “studied under a magnifying glass”, but he feels that his stress levels are not as high as his previous few years, “the past few years, I had the drive but nowhere to use that, now I know how to work hard.”

2

During the initial auditions, Xiao Zhan still continued to work as per normal, go onstage – sing – leave, which was quite fun. After the selection down to 32 persons, he did not think much of it, and left his work to go to Beijing to practice the dance for the variety show. After the selection down to 16 persons, he practiced everything – dancing, vocals and flexibility training.

He did not think much of what would happen later. The winter in Beijing was especially cold, after the show recording, it would be around 3am or 4am, and there would be fans waiting for him outside of the studio – Xiao Zhan felt quite sorry for them, “All are young girls, it’s so cold and so dark.” He felt surreal having fans. When the 16 of them went to Zhejiang TV “Running 2016” New Year Eve performance, he saw the stage and felt that it was especially big and he was especially happy, and kept making sure he remembered the moves so as not to make any mistakes. After the final battle, Xiao Zhan’s team lost, but he and a few of his teammates were rescued by fan votes.

In 2016, Xiao Zhan debuted as part of X-Nine. During the signing of the contract, Xiao Zhan finally realized that he was going to make a career switch. “When you look at it now, 23 year old is also still a child, but no one took me as a child then.” – Xiao Zhan was the oldest in the group, he made his own decision to sign the contract, he thought that if it did not work out, he could go back to work, there was no need for him to paint himself into a corner.

3½ years after his debut, Artist Xiao Zhan still had to explain to interviewers his obsession with going to work. That day, he had a pimple on the left side of his face, and the makeup artist was applying essences on his face. The makeup room was simply a curtained area in the basement of the Art Gallery, full of passing staff, the editor was discussing the shooting schedule with his manager, the stylist was here delivering clothes, and he sat there with his eyes closed, allowing others to apply whatever it is on his face.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes are long, and also wide, he is very fair and his side profile is graceful and beautiful. With his looks, one would imagine that his personality would be cooler, more introvert, with mild melancholy, like those prince-like male leads in romantic dramas. But his personality does not really match his looks – he is serious, disciplined, he does not talk much initially, but overall he is a relaxed person, and quite funny occasionally.

“A lot of art students do not want to go to work,” the interviewer said. Xiao Zhan learnt drawing since young, some of his happiest moments in his childhood would be to win drawing awards or to have his works praised by his teachers, other unimportant happy moments includes had a good lunch, went to an amusement park, or had a liking for a girl in high school.

“They never went through the society school of hard knocks,” Xiao Zhan said. He described himself as someone who went through “quite a fair bit of knocking”. Since young, his father thought him to be independent, taught him budgeting, and told him stories about Bill Gates’s children… “I wanted to say, god, you’re not Bill Gates.” Despite all these, Xiao Zhan stopped using his parents’ money ever since his university graduation.

Xiao Zhan not only learnt drawing, he also learnt violin, go and Chinese calligraphy… pushed him to study in “National Key” middle school, “National Key” high school (TN: National Key refers to the top range of schools in China). He was an obedient child, but as a standard art student, Xiao Zhan was better in humanity subjects, and his math was not good, hence all the while he had always been the mid-bottom of the pack, which worried his family of 3 quite a fair bit.

Studying graphic design in university, Xiao Zhan felt that his university life was quite comfortable – everyday before class he would adjust himself a bit, although in the end it seemed like it did not work well after all, but at least his results were decent. Xiao Zhan emphasized that he was “definitely not the school hottie”. He was a good student. After he had learnt what the teachers taught, he started a studio on the side. The design studio would take on poster and logo design work; the photography studio only have 3 persons, Xiao Zhan did the photo taking, the other 2 did lighting. Before graduation he went to intern in a design firm, hence it was easy for him to find a job. Within a year of working, his monthly salary was around 4,000 to 5,000 Chinese Yuan, which would quite alright for Chongqing at that point in time.

Being part of a boy group releasing albums, shooting web dramas. The way to do things right was quite different from his previous job – his characterization in the group is a warm guy, although Xiao Zhan did not like characterization, he seriously fulfilled his role, and he was obedient. When someone in the variety show suggested that he lose some weight, he replied “I’m quite thin already I still have to lose weight”. As a commoner, Xiao Zhan was 183cm and 150lbs, his mother would always say he was too thin, and he felt so himself as well. That person showed him the film, “the camera lens is a really scary thing, I literally looked like a ball”. It was not easy for Xiao Zhan to lose weight, so he did it brutally. He was so hungry that he dreamed that he was eating. Xiao Zhan is now 127lbs, but this was not his thinnest.

“How was it like after debut?” “Unoccupied.” (TN: Xiao Zhan used the Chinese phrase “picking at his feet” to describe the state of emptiness.) Xiao Zhan’s words were paced and gentle, most were caught unawares by the sudden switch to casual humor, he might not be laughing, after others laughed he would continue his conversation seriously.

After his debut, he felt that he was freer than the times when he was still an intern. But he did not allow himself to stay free, he took vocal and dancing lessons, making sure that he could do sing-dancing to the best of his abilities. But he was still a bit lost – when he was still a designer, his future was clear and straight, but after his debut he had no clue where his future led to.

3

“I could count the number of dramas I’ve acted in with my fingers,” Xiao Zhan said. After which, he started counting them – “Battle through the Heavens”, “The Wolf”, “Oh! My Emperor”, “The Untamed”, “Joy of Life”, “Jade Dynasty”, “The Oath of Love”… the earliest work “Super Star Academy” was not counted – It was shot with his boy group, he was still fat, and he had no clue what he was doing.

Acting was his own idea. When he started auditioning he had not even attended any performance classes, he saw the director, took a piece of paper that indicated the scene and lines, and just went for it. Xiao Zhan did not feel that it was awkward, it was something he wanted to do, so he would do so without any inhibitions, and grasp every opportunity to do so. Singing was something that he always liked, his first single after debut was a song voted by his fans. With the stage and his fans, with attention, he would always want to do it better. Acting was something totally foreign to him.

The first turning point was “The Wolf”. When auditioning, within 2 hours, Xiao Zhan had tried many roles – the bounty hunter who was threatening someone, the prince whose brother was about to be executed… Xiao Zhan won the role of the bounty hunter – the 4th character on the character roll, Ji Chong. During the pre-shoot training he was still acting in “Battle through the Heavens”, daytime he would be shooting, nighttime he would be having performance classes. He did not feel it was tough then, as long as he had time to sleep. “Work is something I am willing to do, I will only feel very motivated, tomorrow must be done better than today.” Xiao Zhan liked Wei Wuxian, felt that he was vivid. When acting, during the first month he would be second guessing himself everyday, is the portrayal accurate? Would the audience accept it? Xiao Zhan checked with the director everyday. After a month, he stopped asking, he felt that he was Wei Wuxian. Dramas adapted from web novels are rarely positively received, his hopes for Wei Wuxian was that “I hope people would not dislike the character because of my acting”.

The summer of 2019, the drama aired, and the real turning point arrived.

Billions of fans, frequent trending topics on Weibo, appearing on multiple magazine covers and even causing the sales platform app to crash…

He is one of the few artists in Weibo that sets his account as “only posts in the past 6 months are viewable”, but it did not affect his popularity. His interaction with his fans are witty, the statistics are more than enough to attract attention. Last year on the Chinese Valentine’s Day (TN: 7th of the 7th Lunar month), he posted a photo informing his fans that he had put on weight, his pants folded up, legs in the swimming pool. One of his fans replied, “Fine, good to know that your leg hairs are doing fine.” This reply was boosted to the top with 190,000 likes.

“After watching ‘The Untamed’ and ‘Joy of Life’ and then meeting you, I feel like you are very similar to your performance method, calm. You are like an AI, whatever you do you’re especially precise.” “You’re highly professional.” The interviewer concluded.

At the start of the conversation, Xiao Zhan just finished an exterior photo shoot, we were both seated, leaning forward and warming hands above the radiator. He said, “Artist is just a job, I don’t like artists to place themselves on a pedestal, just like today you are the reporter who is interviewing me, today I am someone being interviewed. Cooperation, is just so that we can complete our jobs, coming in for the photo shoot is my job today, every single staff is also executing this job, it’s just the role is different.” Because he went through the society “school of hard knocks”, he respected and understood the truth behind teamwork.

As someone who once had to face clients, he knew how it felt as someone at the receiving end of endless unreasonable requests, and therefore he did not want to be someone like that. His standards for work is consistent – high efficiency, good results, everyone is happy, no one has to serve another person. Also “once I am done I will knock off, after I knock off no one should come find me, let me be alone.”

“Everyone works to fulfill their needs, they have entertainment after they knock off, they have freedom and privacy. As a public figure, artist, the product is yourself, the works are also yourself. You have to output materials, contribute works, and then gain the opportunity to grow, for higher social status, value and better lifestyle. For some people, besides their career, they also included their dreams,” the interviewer said.

“The understanding is very thorough. You win some, you lose some, after becoming a public figure it meant that there are multiple pairs of eyes staring at you, anything you do would be judged. Whether it is positive or misguided. Truth and falsehoods, isn’t this circle just like this? Whether the rumors or the gossip is true or false, who knows?” Xiao Zhan said.

4

On 5 Jan 2020, Xiao Zhan was working in a sculpture garden in Shanghai Songjiang, shooting a series of photographs to be the cover of VogueMe. It was cold, the gallery’s doors were open, and the wind blew from the first floor to the basement. Everyone was wearing winter jackets.

In the morning, beside the metal sculpture on the first floor, Xiao Zhan and model Chen Yu faced the camera separately. As the shutters rolled, they did not exchange glances or touch each other. As the photographer requested the model to sit on the ground, Xiao Zhan said his only sentence to her, “Careful your head.” and used his hands to shield her head from the protruding portion of the sculpture.

That day’s Weibo opening advertisement was also Xiao Zhan. As per the photographer’s request, he tilted his head up slightly and gave a cold gaze, or side glancing a faraway place, but also at the same time, he was smiling sweetly on mobile phone screens, promoting a series of instant food products.

In the afternoon, the team went to the exterior, to a concrete sculpture beside the gallery entrance, where he and the model stood in front of, facing the camera. The arm was on the model’s shoulders, and the two of them looked at the camera – he was even thinner than the model. In yet another set, the staff erected a ladder to one of the rooftop grass patches on the gallery buildings. An ice cold rock slab was selected, which the assistant padded using a jacket, and tested the light levels. After which, it was Xiao Zhan’s turn. He was wearing a red jacket with blue shirt, wearing a baseball cap, lying on his side on the rock slab, supporting his head with his arm. In between shoots, the assisted would hand him a long wool top, with deep blue diamond checks, quite thin. The top was flipped over, he slipped his hands into the sleeves to protect the front of his body, his assistant handed over another water bottle that contained warm mineral water to warm his hands. Xiao Zhan basically did not speak, he placed the bottle on his neck to gain some warmth.

An artist’s job, the profession included losing weight, staying hungry, freezing and staying up overnight, wearing winter clothes in summer is the norm, not drinking water prior to any shoots to prevent water bloating on screen… people who do those well may become famous, if they look good or are lucky they may become even more famous. Now Xiao Zhan has an opportunity, and like his previous job, he chose to be down-to-earth and do it well.

In the evening, the green screens were setup in basement 2 of the gallery. 17:44, Xiao Zhan was in position, his manager reminded the stylist to take note of the clothes’ proportion – “The sweater is too long.” Hence, the sweater was folded up. After the camera assistant brought down the Apple machines, the cameraman adjusted his machines, and started shooting the video. Quite a few scenes were done in one take, in the middle there was a break, the manager and the camera crew were discussing camera positions. This was the 10th hour of the shoot, Xiao Zhan sat behind the table, laid his head on a prop gift box and waited quietly – we could not see if he was tired or not.

The shoot ended, and the sky was already dark. Xiao Zhan has not yet knocked off. The media had ended their work, the manager was darting around, arranging for Xiao Zhan to change out and get on his car, to rush to his rehearsal that night – they were already behind schedule. Both teams bid their farewell, Xiao Zhan warm and gentle, still unclear whether he was tired. After less than an hour’s journey, he would need to go onstage to sing, and thereafter, his work would be to complete the costume testing of 20 different sets of clothes.

The Initial Cold

The time set for the shoot was 9am, Xiao Zhan arrived at the rural set at 8.30am. His overnight flight arrived only the day before, meeting Xiao Zhan on the cold morning of a deep southern winter, his spirits looked great, his face having the same kindness as usual. The endless job schedules taught him how to conserve his energy – no casual conversation, not even to his staff; take every opportunity to eat or rest; absolutely no procrastination, ensure efficiency, do his best to accommodate and complete every job. He is a highly disciplined and professional artist.

In this shoot, the warm, gentle smiles have been replaced by cold, sharp glares, the metal and concrete sculptures gave him a few minutes of inner emotions and narrative, his scenes with the model was almost like he was acting in the set of “Last Year at Marienbad”. Xiao Zhan displayed emotions and charm very different from usual self – this is the power of an actor. The darker filters and monochrome imagery restored the caution that the youth of his age would have, it was the concealed feelings of a sunny boy. With such an idol, not only he can warm your hearts, there are still much to expect from him.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

[captainjimothycarter]

Steggy prompt: Peggy recently moved to Brooklyn after her divorce, and now Steve is her daughter's first grade teacher

 I don’t even know if this is what you had in mind buuuut it’s what I came up with and kinda love it. 2.7k too --

Jack was a good father, but not a good husband. That was a lie Peggy told herself ever since her daughter was born. Sure, he didn’t change the diaper, he had something against the infant sleeping in their bed, and wasn’t there when she had to have an emergency c-section but he was an okay father.

This was her lying to herself, not for the sake of saving the embarrassment of a divorce or because of money or a job, or any of the bullshit people were speculating, but because she knew what it was like to grow up without a father and she didn’t want that for her daughter. Until she saw Jack was not the father that Sarah needed.

Jack was no father at all, he didn’t even qualify to be a husband. He was a presence in the house, a burden. She made more money than him and paid all the bills. She was the one who read stories to Sarah every night, who did her hair, made her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and took her to swimming practice. In fact, she did everything for Sarah, doctor appointments, homework, parent-teacher meetings, last-minute bake-sales.

What in the hell did she marry Jack for then other than an accidental one night stand and at the insistence of her mother?

Perhaps that was it. Marrying this sexist idiot who thought of himself above others because of the tool between his legs. Because her mother had once again gotten into her head and forced her hand. Michael would be ashamed of their mother – never of Peggy. He would’ve loved Sarah.

“I’m leaving him, mother.” Peggy had called her late one evening after Sarah was put to bed when the clock struck ten and Jack still hasn’t home. Most likely out drinking once again. She could hear her mother’s breath hitch on the other end.

“Of course you’re not, dear.” She always had a way of speaking to Peggy that spoke down to her like she was still Sarah’s age. “This is just a momentarily hitch, you two will get over it. You just have to please him more. Make sure the baby is sated so he doesn’t have to listen to her cries.”

“Sarah is not an infant, mother! She’s seven and is starting first grade come this fall. And I’ll have you know that Jack is not the husband that you say he is. He doesn’t take care of Sarah. He doesn’t do a damn thing but go to work, come home drunk, and make a mess of a home that I spent all day cleaning after I worked all day. Sarah doesn’t deserve to be raised in a household with a man who won’t even recognize her existence.”

“Well, clearly you’re not doing something right, Margaret. Have you-”

Peggy didn’t even hear the end of the sentence, hanging up on her mother with a roll of her eyes. It was a mistake to call her but she had to tell someone and since it was just her and Sarah and she wasn’t putting this on her, it was her mother. Clearly, that was a mistake.

--

Brooklyn was the right choice. It was friendly, open, and a hell of a lot better in some ways than Washington. First off, it didn’t have Jack’s stench all over it. Anywhere she’d turn, there was someplace tainted with his memory and she wanted to escape that. Moving Sarah to Brooklyn Elementary had been made easy by the Principal and Vice-Principal’s assistance and she was grateful, dreading that.

She’d told Jack that night that she was leaving him, divorcing him. He’d turned a strange shade of red and dared to try to take a swing at her before she threw a right hook into his jawline that sent him spiraling backward into the alcohol cabinet that he was so fond of.

“Don’t you ever think about touching me or Sarah like that again, do you understand me?” Her voice was hard and low, dangerous. Her brown eyes intense as they glared down at him as if to burn holes into his skull. “I’ve let you walk all over me long enough until I got some sense about me because I wanted you to be there for Sarah and clearly you’d rather spent time with Belinda at the bar.”

“You won’t find better than me,” Jack insisted, voice slurred as he forced himself off and out of the glass. “You won’t find anyone like me! Do you think I wanted you? I only hitched you because you were pregnant and felt sorry for you! No one is going to put up with you, Carter. Do you hear me? No one!”

Peggy wasn’t listening to Jack, not right off. She was focused on Sarah who’d heard the crash and ran straight into her arms. Her pigtails shimmering as Peggy picked her up and wrapped her in a blanket, glaring at Jack over her daughter’s shoulders. “That’s the point, Jack. I’d rather be alone and caring for my daughter than to deal with the likes of you or my mother. I know what I’m worth and my time isn’t worth staying here with the likes of you. You’ll find the paperwork on the counter. Good day.”

Fall was coming into Brooklyn and Peggy was grateful, tired of the heat. She was British at heart, no matter how long she lived in America, she did not handle the heat well.

“Alright,” she sighed at her daughter, taking her hand as they crossed the last street. “The Principal promised us that we can have a private tour of the school so you’re familiar. We’ll be meeting your teacher today too. Then you start classes next week.”

Sarah was a quiet thing until she was rightfully upset. She spoke her mind and got into loads of trouble. She didn’t like bullies and certainly knew how to defend herself especially from teachers. She was her mother’s child through and through and damn Peggy was grateful Jack never had a hand raising her. To think of the damage he’d do…

The school was large for an elementary school, if you asked Peggy. Large classrooms, gym class, gymnastics, computer classes, and not to mention the hundreds of different sports and after school programs. It would be good to sign Sarah up for some, given Peggy’s work schedule would run over some.

“Library!” Sarah gasped at the heavy oak doors propped open by a stack of books, practically bouncing up and down. Peggy had no hope of calming her down when she saw the rows and rows of books. Sarah had grown up in the library, knew the Dewy Decimal System by heart – or at least more so than other kids her age. Read well beyond her grade level and could comprehend most subjects adults rolled their eyes at.

Still, Sarah’s love was sci-fi and mystery novels.

“Darling …” And, she was gone, Sarah bounded off into the library, making Peggy laugh and lightly jog after her. “I am so sorry,” she told the young librarian as Sarah bounded between the aisles. My, it was large. Two stories actually with stairs and elevators. She was on some hand jealous here.

The young librarian, a man with blonde hair and purple hearing aids just laughed. “She’s no problem. I’m just glad to see someone loving books for once instead of groaning when their teachers drag them in here. She’s gonna be a feisty one, I can tell, but don’t you worry I’ll keep an eye on her.”

They chatted lightly about books while Sarah weaved in between them, pressing book after book onto the counter. The librarian, a man named Clint laughed at her selection varying between a murder mystery, a historic novelization on King Author, deep-sea extraditions, and facts about dogs.

“I should go get her before she checks out the whole library.” Rolling her eyes fondly, Peggy went to search through the isles. “Sarah!”

There was no callback, so she found herself upstairs. She could hear Sarah chatting away to someone. Odd, she was normally so reserved and quiet unless she knew someone. Who did she find so soon to talk to?

Founding the corner, Peggy found herself staring at the side profile of a man with broad shoulders, wearing a tweet jacket, olive green sweater, and thick-rimmed glasses on the tip of his freckled nose. He had a thick beard coming in and his blonde hair swept out of his face. He didn’t look like he belonged in some elementary school, if anything he should be teaching psychology or history at the local university, not elementary subjects. He was quite handsome and that smile, the way his lips caught in his teeth, made Peggy’s heart lurch.

Sarah was in the midst of conversation, doing all the talking as she rambled on and on about a book in her hand about superheroes. The guy was sitting criss-cross on the floor, adjacent his daughter, nodding along. He laughed at something she said, head thrown back, holding onto his chest. A full belly laugh. He wasn’t downplaying her, he was talking to her, listening to her. Not many grown adults did that.

“Hello,” Peggy mused when her daughter decided to pause for a breath. She knelt down beside Sarah, adjusting the flow of her flowered day dress. She smoothed the wrinkles from Sarah’s shoulders and brushed her hair back. “Did you find someone to talk to?”

Sarah’s head bobbed up and down excitedly, missing the way the two adults looked over one another. “Uh-huh! This is Mr. Rogers! He teaches first grade! His favorite subject is history and art – he draws lots too. I was telling him about how we moved here from Washington because Jack was an asshole.”

Peggy’s face flushed a bright shade of pink while Steve laughed, the woman burying her face into her hands. “Sarah, I’ve told you not to say that word. Yes, I will admit he was that, but we do not say that around other people. Only at home.” She was only human and Peggy cursed. Lots. She tried not to around Sarah but became fully aware that Sarah would grow up around that language at any rate. Sarah knew better than most to curse like that.

“Well, he is,” Sarah pouted. “He called you yesterday and said that I was a mistake.”

Oh, that look on Sarah’s face and the anger residing in Peggy. She picked Sarah up and cradled her in her lap. A glance over to Mr. Rogers’ face showed the same anger but better hidden.

“You must be Peggy – she’s told me all about you,” Steve said in a soft tone, setting his book aside and scooting closer so he could gently touch Sarah’s arm. “It’s Sarah, right?”

The little girl nodded and Steve smiled brightly, all white teeth that stood out amongst the beard.

“Only the best and bravest of people are named Sarah. My ma’s name is Sarah and she’s the bravest, smartest person, I know!” His voice was soft as he met Sarah’s chocolate eyes, that mirrored her mother’s and gently rubbed his thumb along her arm. “You are not a mistake, never. Ever. Don’t believe what that a-idiot says, okay?”

The little girl smiled brightly despite the flushed cheeks and Peggy’s arms tighter around her. “Like mama! Mama’s smart and brave! She punched Jack in the face when he tried to hurt her! And this morning she took down a guy who stole an old lady’s purse!”

Steve’s brow disappeared into his hairline, his hair flopping against his forehead as he looked up at Peggy. Peggy’s cheeks flushed a brighter warm again, resisting the urge to fix his hair. “What I would give to be a fly on that wall,” he muttered.

“Sarah has a way of painting tales to make them seem more…exciting than they are,” she sighed, rolling her eyes with a fond smile. “But Mr. Rogers is right. You are not a mistake, little one. You are my sunshine and I will not have you believe a single word that man says. We’re getting my number changed and he will no longer be able to contact either of us, okay?”

“So,” Steve breathed once Sarah had calmed down enough to believe their words and were now taking her last two books to the counter and talking to Barton. He stood beside Peggy, towering over her, even in heels, his hands shoved into his pocket. He still didn’t look like a teacher but he had the natural attitude and calming demeanor of one. “How hard did you punch him – your ex-husband?”

Peggy giggled at that. A giggle of all things! Her. She never giggled. Or she never found the right person to giggle with. “Hard enough to knock some sense into him, though I’m afraid it leaked out.”

Steve gave a soft whistle that was just loud enough for her to hear, Peggy, rolling her eyes again. “And this morning with your thief?”

“Oh, that? That was nothing more than the right place at the right time. He snatched her purse and tried to bolt soon as the train doors opened, I merely grabbed him by his hair and put him into a chokehold to bring him down until he was sobbing.” Steve at least looked impressed and she liked that.

“Remind me to call you when I’m in trouble. And to never get on your bad side.” His hand lingered just a moment on her arm, giving a squeeze before he was stepping up to the counter to talk to a troubled looking Clint.

Peggy could hear the ends of the conversation – something about Sarah not having her student ID but it was fine because Mr. Rogers was going to check out all these books for her on the promise he gets to hear about each one. Ten minutes later they were standing outside of a bland-looking classroom with no decorations or furniture even and Mr. Rogers was rocking on his heels with a nervous look.

“I think it’s a good thing that you’re my student, Miss Sarah, because then I get to hear all about the books.” The way he spoke to her daughter, Peggy knew Steve was sincere about it too. He wanted to hear about the books and all that Sarah had learned. “And I uh, should apologize about this…” He waved his hand at the empty classroom, cheeks flushing a soft pink under his beard. “I promise it’s going to look amazing when you two are here for opening day. I just got everything out and deep cleaned it all, you won’t believe how much stuff the other teachers hoard in those closets. I found a textbook from 1912! It’s actually in the library right now.”

Peggy gave an impressed whistle that just made Steve flush all the darker, their eyes boring straight into one another. Her hand on Sarah’s shoulder, thumb rubbing against the sweater. “Well, I think I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Rogers. I know Sarah is going to be incapable of hands this year. What do we say to Mr. Rogers about the books, Sarah?”

“Thank you!” The little girl hugged the stack stuffed into a tote against her chest with an ear-to-ear grin. “Thank you so much! But Mr. Rogers, you should ask my mama out so you two can talk more about art! Mr. Clint said I am always welcome at the library and I can stay with him!”

Both adults flushed and Peggy suddenly found her watch very interesting while Steve cleared his throat. “Darling,” she finally sighed, shaking her head. “I love you but do not try to set me up on dates and I am sure Mr. Clint doesn’t live at the library and needs to go home sometime too. I think we should get going, Mr. Rogers. We’ll see you at eight o’clock on the dot Monday morning.”

Steve was still blushing as he waved goodbye to an overexcited Sarah before his eyes fell to the well put-together mother who’d been through too much. “Don’t you dare be late.”

It was Peggy’s turn to grin as she hoisted her daughter up and with the other arm, carried what had to be over fifteen pounds of books. “I wouldn’t dream of it, I think Sarah will kill me if I made us late for her first day of school.”

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Steggy Prompt #@womenarethesequel #Not Jack Thompson Friendly #Seriously don't read if you like him #i don't #He's an ass #Single Parent Peggy Carter #Teacher Steve Rogers #Should i post this on ao3?

[bucketslutz]

Get Out the Way

Chapter 1: The Huntress

Summary: You were successful as a bounty hunter for a while, and now as a skilled fighter working in an arena. You were craving excitement, until a Mandalorian crosses your path and offers you the opportunity to help bring his kid back and avenge the death of someone you lost long ago. Working with the bucket-head, though, isn't going as smoothly as you thought. Will it all be worth it in the end?

You can read Get Out the Way on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+ only pls, violence, gore, language, bounty hunting, enemies to lovers sorta, slow burn af, banter, grogu in danger, AFAB reader, badass female reader, yes reader is a bounty hunter, smut eventually but for now they hate each other

Your lip tears open after the butt end of a weapon collides with your face, and a steady flow of bright red blood begins its path down your chin. The Devaronian, armed with a vibro-ax, snarls at you through stained teeth and spins his blade in his hand. Despite the pain and the, seemingly, winning 200 pound opponent gaining on you, a smile crept on your face. Letting him think he had the upper hand was fun. You hated to ruin his party, but you had a job to do. You stole a quick glance from a familiar face in the roaring crowd and he gave you a nod. Returning the gesture, you finally quit fucking around with your toy and ignited your dual shockwhips, whipping them around your head before they meet the floor with an electric crack. The Devaronian’s face fell as your whips narrowly missed his horn. He raises his weapon and ignites its energy chord, attempting to appear confident and in control of the fight. You almost laugh, as if that’s going to do anything, you say to yourself. He charges at your left side, and you dodge his attack effortlessly. You duck when he attempts to swing around at your head. You roll backwards and swing your whip at his leg. It wraps around his calf and you yank your weapon hard resulting in him landing on the floor with a clunk, your whip shocks him, immediately knocking the Devaronian out cold. The crowd erupts in a mixture of whoops and boos, emitting from humans and miscellaneous species alike. The rings filling the arena signal that you won the round.

Your unignited shockwhips return to your belt and you wipe the blood off your face. Departing from the ring, you try to ignore the incessant, nagging voice that calls your name and light footsteps that trail behind you. Finally deciding to entertain the source of the call, you stop and place you hands on your hips and stare up at the ceiling, huffing in indignation.

“Darling, y-” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can finish the thought.

“I told you not to call me darling,” you correct him, as if it was a common occurrence, then continue your journey to the bar hardly paying him any attention.

“Right, of course,” your sponsor corrects his previous statement by saying your name and follows you closely. “You were wonderful tonight, as usual. I’m always confident that you’ll make it out on top. But my patrons on the other hand, don’t like when you, how do you say, play with your food. It takes them out of the experience, makes it feel like they’re watching a choreographed show instead of a bloody fight.”

You hop over the bar and reach for the spotchka below and it lands on the counter with a harsh clank. You pour yourself a snort and down it with ease. Your sponsor was a lame excuse for a human being, he only existed to gain profit. And right now, to him, you were his most profitable investment. He was shorter and weaker than you, hence why he kissed your ass every second of every day. He didn’t want to meet the end of your wrath. The measly halo of white hair on his head and leathery, wrinkly skin did not help to make him look more intimidating. He looked to be two seconds away from death every day, so you had no problem walking all over him.

“Gundi, I seriously don’t give a fuck what your patrons want to see. You should consider yourself lucky to have me working for you. I could go back to the guild whenever the hell I want. Don’t push your luck.” You lift your bag from the ground and swing it over your shoulder. You slide over the bar and pat Gundi on the head when you land on the ground. He was like a trained dog at this point, you reward him by not killing him each time he decides not to step on your toes. You extend your hand out to the weasley man and he sets a sachet of credits in your palm. You close your fingers around your profits and hear it cling in your hand. You listen as Gundi sighs dejectedly once you exit the arena.

Admittedly, you really can’t go back to the guild whenever you want. You need to make a viable living, and Karga hasn’t given you a well-paying hunt in months. There’s only one person on Nevarro who he gives the best paying jobs to, and you’d rather not step on that bucket- head’s toes. So you’ve resorted to what would be a bounty hunter’s equivalent to prostitution. It wasn’t your best option, but there were no real challenging opponents on this stupid rock anyways so each fight felt more like a light workout than a real battle. But it was easy money, so you shouldn’t be complaining. Wincing as you entered the bathroom, you inspected the cut on your lip carefully. Maker, how did you let that nerf-herder lay a blow on you at all? You could’ve killed him in your sleep. Maybe you’re just bored. Winning matches without any challenge gets a little repetitive after a while. You need some more excitement in your life. Like in the early days of your bounty hunting career, you landed gigs with ease and collected bounties as if you were made for the job. After a while though, Greef didn’t want to give you anymore high-profile hunts. You didn’t even need your weapons for the bounties Karga started giving you. The excitement was gone as quickly as it came. After applying some bacta to your wound, you left the bathroom, then Gundi’s slimy establishment soon after.

You whipped through the streets outside the arena until a familiar scent assaulted your senses. You followed the scent to a local vendor selling various meats. You toss some credits at the vendor in exchange for some skewers of the meat. As you begin the walk back to your apartment, out of the corner of your eye you spot a small figure sitting in an alleyway. You stop and turn your head towards a little girl clothed in a dirty, torn dress. You approach her carefully and she meets your gaze. You crouch to her level and you can see her eyeing the food you just purchased. She looked to be starved, so you handed her a couple skewers of the meat along with a sachet of credits. The girl’s eyes light up and she smiles widely at you. You stand up and watch as she disappears into the alleyway. You really don’t like kids all that much, but she reminded you of yourself when you were young. You thought maybe a small act of kindness might help her get on her feet; an act of kindness you wished you’d seen when you were her age. You didn’t like to think about life back then, it wasn’t easy and you had to do a lot of things you didn’t want to do. Some of which a little girl should never see. But when you’re desperate, about anything sounds better than an empty stomach and a restless night on the street. At least it made you scrappy, appreciative of what you have now. Despite being a failing bounty hunter and a sellout, you at least have a roof over your head and credits in your pocket.

The trek back to your apartment felt heavier than usual. The weight of an unfamiliar presence plagued your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. Whoever it is, you could take them anyways. Maybe it’s the voyeur in you, maybe it’s the part of you that longs for excitement, but you almost welcome the presence. The door leading to your apartment slides open and you step inside. Immediately feeling that same presence, you hesitate to turn on your lights, sensing that they’re watching you from the shadows. You flick your lights on and immediately draw your blaster from your holster and aim it at the figure in the doorway leading to your bedroom. The Mandalorian remains unmoving and unarmed. What the fuck is he doing here?

“Put that down,” he commands, breaking the silence. “I’m not here to kill you.”

“I’m not sure I can do that, Mando,” you assert, confidently. You look the man up and down and subtly admire the beskar armor. “I know you’ve been following me. You trying to get rid of your competition, shiny?” Your blaster remains aimed at the beskar clad bounty hunter as he crosses towards you in two steps.

“If I wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead already,” the Mandalorian remarks, still unarmed and showing no indication of hostility.Unfortunately, he was right. Knowing his track record, you would’ve been frozen in carbonite before you even made it to your apartment. So now you’re stuck wondering what he could possibly be doing here, if he’s not collecting a bounty.

“Alright, Mando,” you continue snidely. You return your blaster to its place in your holster and cross into your kitchen. “What could you bucket-head possibly want with little old me.”

“I need your help on a mission. I’m prepared to compensate you substantially for your skills,” he says.

“The mighty Mandalorian needs my help? Wow, I’m flattered, but I don’t work well with others. Trust me, you’d be better off on your own.” You reach for the spotchka in the cabinet over your head. You take a swig from the jug as you brush past the Mandalorian and into your living room. You sink into your couch and set the jug down in front of you on the coffee table.

“I saw you fight tonight at Gundi’s. You’re too good of a hunter to be in that hell-hole,” he says, taking a few steps towards you again, his boots hitting the ground hard with each step.

“If this is your way of trying to butter me up, shiny, then it’s not working. I work there because Karga won’t give me bounties worth my while anymore. The man has no faith in me, so fuck him. I can make twice the amount of credits in a week at Gundi’s than Karga would give me in a month.” You take another long swig from the jug of spotchka and kick your feet onto the coffee table, settling further back into your couch. “And what could I possibly do for you on your mission that no other guild member could?”

“Wraak has my kid, I need your help to kill him and get my kid back.”

The blood drains from your face and your palms become clammy. That’s why he wanted your help. Who else would want Wraak dead as bad as me? You thought to yourself. Mando says your name, “You’re a skilled hunter, you’re worth more than whatever Karga gives you. I’ll put in a good word with him if you come with me to get my kid back.”

“I never pegged you as the paternal type. This kid has to be pretty special if Wraak wanted to get his hands on him,” you remarked, attempting to seem together but in reality you’re kind of losing it.

“He’s important to me. I can’t get him back alone. You of all people should know what Wraak does to people who mean something to someone.”

You remained silent. Kill Wraak. You could kill Wraak. You don’t even know what to say anymore. You’re just staring at the floor dumbfounded. The perfect opportunity to kill that bastard has just been placed in front of you on a silver platter and you’re hesitating to accept the offer. Why? What’s wrong with you? Is it your pride? Do you want this to be something you do completely on your own? Without the help of a Mandalorian? Just take it. Accept the offer and kill Wraak.

“I leave tomorrow at 21:00. If you wish to join me, meet me at the Razor Crest.” …

I’m not going. It’ll be a waste of time. Mando is a pain in the ass anyways. You repeat your mantra as you wrap your fists in preparation for your fight tonight. You rest your hands on the sink as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You’re too distracted, you probably shouldn’t be fighting tonight. But what would you even be doing anyways if you weren’t fighting? Certainly not flying through the galaxy with a Mandalorian in search for his son and in the process gaining justice for an unjust murder. Yeah right, you would never. But what’s stopping you? You’re not afraid of Wraak, you hate him too much. And you’re not afraid of Mando either, he has already made it apparent that he doesn’t want you dead. Why can’t you just suck it up and go on this mission with shiny? Leaving the graffiti-covered bathroom, you attempt to shake those thoughts from your head.

You glare at your opponent when you enter the ring and roll your eyes at the Gamorrean attempting to appear intimidating. Dank Farrik, you could be doing better things right now. This is a waste of time. Maybe Mando won’t be as big of a pain in the ass as I think he will be. You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for ages. What’s stopping you from leaving this lava rock and blasting Wraak into oblivion? That does sound kinda nice. He took so much from you. You’ve always felt the burden of his existence since your last encounter with him. You thought you’d never see him again. At this point in your life, you just wanted to move on. But you can’t and it kills you every day. It feels like the last piece of the puzzle would be to confront him; make him feel the same pain he made you feel all those years ago. After all these years you've spent running away from your past and trying to forget what hurt you, the opportunity to finally gain closure has just presented itself. But you now have to confront the very thing you’ve been running away from for so long. Maker, there’s nothing more you want than for Wraak to get what’s coming to him. Even if it means having to deal with Mando’s strange presence. He might not be so bad. What’s the worst he can do? It’s not like he could take you down, except he can. But you try not to think about how easily he could kill you given the opportunity. There’s nothing keeping you here anyways, you can do better than fighting Gamorreans in Gundi’s slimy arena.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the bell ringing and a feisty Gamorrean charging at you. You roll your eyes again having made up your mind and quickly step to the side and jut your foot out, tripping your opponent. You watch as he lands on his face and you apply pressure to his neck with your foot so he can’t get up. The bell rings signifying you won the round. Wasting no time, you exit the ring and snatch your bag up that was sitting just outside. This time, you don’t stop when Gundi calls your name. You don’t have time to deal with that creature, if you stop now you won’t have time to grab your gear from your apartment before getting to the razor crest.

Holy shit, you’re actually doing this. You’re finally going to kill Wraak after all these years. And with the help of a Mandalorian. This has got to be the weirdest fucking thing that’s happened to you. Well, besides the time you hooked up with that Gungan. But you were drunk so it barely even counts.

…

Shit. You have two minutes to get to the razor crest. You’re practically running to the shipyards now, hoping he didn’t decide to leave early. Aren’t Mandalorians people of their word? Or something like that? You can’t really be bothered learning about those bucket-heads anyways. But there is some sort of appealing mystique to them, why do they keep those helmets on all the time? Are they secretly a really ugly alien species? Are they actually high tech robots under there? But at the same time, you really don’t want to know what Mando looks like. You’re confident that he’d never want to show you his face, and you’re confident that you’d never want to see it. You’d feel like you’d be invading his privacy by stealing a glance at his face. As much as you hate admitting it, you kind of admire and respect Mando. He’s an incredibly skilled hunter and effortlessly strikes fear into complete strangers. It makes you wonder why’d he’d ever choose you, out of all people, to join him on this mission. It’s honestly kinda flattering. He thinks you’re a skilled fighter and that feels good. He’s intimidating and damn good at his job. No wonder Greef gives him all the high paying jobs. But you’d never tell him that to his face, or well, to his helmet. Maybe working with him won’t be so bad. You might get to know the mysterious man who lives in that armor.

Out of breath, you reach the hunk of junk Mando told you to meet him at. He’s standing at the top of the razor crest’s ramp setting down a couple of camtonos inside. His helmet turns to face you and you can only assume he’s making eye contact with you. Not wanting to be the first to speak, you simply nod and adjust your grip on your bag. He returns the nod and points to the pile of camtonos sitting outside the ship, indicating that he wants you to load them up.

“We leave once you get those in the hull,” he states simply. He turns and disappears into the crest. Welcome aboard, you tell yourself as you begin grabbing camtonos and stacking them in the hull of the Razor Crest.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fic #star wars #star wars fic #bucketslutz fanfiction #get out the way #afab reader #reader insert #din djarin x female reader #bounty hunter star wars #grogu #baby yoda #mandalorian #din djarin needs a hug #enemies to friends to lovers #18+ star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fanfiction #reader insert star wars #badass female reader