#Emily's behavior had my heart clench | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

specialagentsergio · 3 years

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rationalizations

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

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

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

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

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

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

“Mm-hmm.”

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

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

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

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

“You can’t be serious.”

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

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

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

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

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

“And you just listened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

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

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

He pretends to agree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

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

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

---

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

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

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

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

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

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

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

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

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

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

“What was it?”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, what?”

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

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

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

“That’s my job,” she points out.

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

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

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

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

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

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

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

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

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

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wlwloverwrites · 4 years

Note

Okay, Emily prentiss x reader. Readers being a brat and where in the story you pick can you have Emily whisper in her ear “keep it up and I’ll punish you”. Emily just being a brat tamer

Anonymous said

Can I request a Emily x reader nothing to special just some good old dominant Emily with Emily wanting to be called mommy 😏😉 some choking, overstimulation, and or edging if your up to it. Thanks!

Warnings: mommy kink, brat!reader, edging, smut (18+)

Main Masterlist

Lover hours Masterlist

“You look pretty today, baby.” Emily smiles at you, admiring your cute little outfit as she took a small two second break from her huge pile of reports. The stack of paper really does a wonder on top of her home desk.

“What? I didn’t look pretty yesterday?” You scoff, leaning against the doorway.

“Didn’t say that, Y/N,” Emiky replies calmly though there’s a part of her that shock you gave her attitude. “You know I hate when you put words in my mouth.”

“Yeah? Well I’m sure you’d like something else in your-” your words are cut off.

“I suggest that you don’t finish that sentence.”

“Why did I hit a nerve?” You mock.

“Keep it up and I’ll punish you,” Emiky warns, not paying any attention to you, still flipping through the many folders, signing her name on the bottom corner.

“No you won’t.” You say confidently, rising your head up high, show casing your necklace that Emily gave you on your first anniversary.

“I won’t what?” Still her eyes are on the papers, purposely infuriating you.

That’s fine two can play a game.

“You won’t punish me. You won’t tie me up or get rough with me. You’re too soft.” You almost spit out the last three words causing your heart to race. All because you knew damn well you were lying. Just a week ago you had a talk about how you wanted her to be rough with you and she promise she would.

“On my lap.” Her strong voice makes you clench your thighs together, you’re sure there’s already wetness seeping through your panties. “Now!”

Rushing towards the woman, straddling her thighs unbothered by the way your skirt rises up. Emily supports your weight by holding your body flushed against hers, forcing you to wrap your arms around her, hugging her.

If anyone were to walk into the home office it’d look like she was comforting you with you on her lap. But nonetheless Emily finds herself rubbing your clit through your panties whispering in your ear.

“My little brat needs some loving huh? Mommy has been so busy that her girl has become bratty. All because her pussy needs some love,” she explains while mimicking your small pout.

Pout is long gone and replaced with a gape. How did she know? You never mentioned you wanted to call her mommy.

“Will you let mommy love you without being a brat?” She asks with raised eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“You can love me, mommy. But I make no promises.”

“Such a little brat, go to the room.”

Your hands are cuffed to the bed along with your feet cuffed to each other. Your panties are stuffed inside your mouth, stopping you from talking back and being a “fuckin brat”.

“Look how pretty you are when you’re being a good girl,” she praises, her hands spread your legs apart, lightly brushing her fingers over your pussy. Expert fingers find your clit and rub slow circles, occasionally dipping her fingers lower.

Your hips grind up towards her hand earning a firm grip on your throat. Squeezing the sides of your neck, her grip is a warning. Don’t come. You thrash in her hold, your muffled moans fill the air but Emily Mommy does nothing to correct her pace.

Her eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of her. Your head thrown back, black panties stick out from your filled mouth, breasts right in front of her face that begged for her mark. You’re soaked between your thighs and your clit is swollen. With each deep breath your stomach moved, each shakey breath made Emily smirk. She had you right where she wanted.

“Mmm!” You shout, trying to get her attention.

“Wanna talk, little one?”

You do your best to comprehend her words, once you do you nod. Shaking your head up and down violently so she understood you were desperate. You almost moan when her hand around your throat releases and moves to take your panties out of your mouth.

“Please mommy, let me come,” you beg with tears in your eyes. Tugging against your handcuffs, the thick metal digging into your wrist to a point where is hurt.

Your begs go in one ear and come out the other. Your bratty behavior was long gone and now replaced with a desperate behavior. Whining when she fastened her pace, curling her fingers inside you. Lapping her tongue over your clit and moaning at your taste.

“Mommy!” you cry out when you’re so close to coming. Your fingernails dig into your palms and your thighs start to shake.

“What is it?” She questions, perfectly calm.

“I want to come,” you give her you best puppy dog eyes, sticking out your bottom lip for good measure.

“Oh sweetheart, if I let you come I’m not gonna stop,”

feedback is appreciated

a/n: so close to 600 followers. so cool!

#lover hours #type: smut #char: emily prentiss #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss smut #reader x emily prentiss #reader x emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #wlwloverwrites #wlwloversfics

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golden-barnes · 3 years

Text

First of many

Summary: This is your first anniversary with Spencer. And it’s nerve racking.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X GN!Reader

Content/Warning: Just fluff cause I’m a softie. But a few curse words and mention of anxiety.

Word Count: 2,021

Author’s note: I wrote this for @homoose ‘s creator challenge because I love her Spencer fics. I am so happy that you reached 2k, you deserve it and more.

Spencer was, scrolling through Netflix, while you were getting some snacks. He came across Pan’s Labyrinth, which was the first movie the two of you had ever watched.

Very early on you had realized that Spencer hasn’t watched a lot of pop culture-relevant movies and that’s when you decided that they would have mini movie marathons to get him caught up. Spencer smiled at the memory that was in the first months of your relationship. And then it hit him, like a bag of bricks.

Their first anniversary was coming up. Real soon. Like in two weeks soon. How could Spencer forget? He had an eidetic memory. It’s just that everything was just so fast and nice, that it seems like time passed him by and he didn’t even notice. He didn’t have to stress about anything, everything came naturally between you two.

Yes, there were ups and downs. Spencer is a stubborn man and you can be even more stubborn. He would try to protect you by closing off, you would call him out on it. He had his bad days and you had her bad days too, but would always talk it out and resolve it.

He loved you with all his might and you had made this year incredible. He felt at home when he was with you. He never imagined being able to feel this love for a singular person. And he was excited to show you.

One problem though; this was the first time one of his relationships has lasted more than a few months. He didn’t know how to start. He didn’t know the proper etiquette for anniversaries. Hell, he had never read any literature about how to celebrate an anniversary. Fuck, what was he going to do?

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, while waiting for the popcorn to be done to get back to cuddling with your boyfriend, You had an inkling that you were missing something. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch. You grabbed your phone to see if there was anything that would help you remember. But nothing. You still felt something wasn’t right. That’s when you saw it.

You knew you weren’t going to remember, you didn’t have Spencer’s memory. You wrote it on your calendar that was on the fridge. It was right there, with a red heart around the day and everything. Fuck.

Your anniversary was coming up. And you had no idea what to do. But that wasn’t the most stressful thing about the entire thing. It was that it was a reminder that you were Spencer’s longest relationship and this was the first time he has ever lasted a year with someone.

Spencer told you in the beginning about his woes and struggles with dating and being in a relationship. You found it adorable how nervous he was trying to figure out how to manage these relationship things. You even heard him talking to Derek and Luke one night to get advice.

Thankfully, he was much more comfortable now and realized that he just had to be himself. But those first months were filled with you reassuring Spencer that he didn’t have to change or anything. That you loved him just the way he was.

That’s why you wanted to make this day special for Spencer. To celebrate that you have overcome multiple obstacles and are still together, one year later. To show him that he was the best boyfriend you could ever wish for. But, how can you do that? How can you make this the perfect day for the certified genius that was sitting in the living room?

Out of all his friends, he knew only one of them could help him. Someone with the creativity, the passion for love, and the knowledge of you and that was Miss Penelope Garcia. Before he could even finish his sentence, she already knew what to do.

She grabbed a piece of paper off her desk and started to scribble some words down.

“Okay, boy wonder, you will meet me here after your last class. I will not accept any excuses. ” She gave Spencer a piece of paper. He smiled at his friend.

“Oh, I’m not done yet, mighty professor. How do you feel about shopping?” Spencer’s eyes widened. Shopping with Garcia wasn’t an easy thing, or so he heard from JJ.

“Hey, Reid! What are you doing here?” Luke said, poking his head from the door.

“I- uhm. My classes are later in the day and I wanted to ask Garcia something.” Spencer told his friend, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Luke smiled at the brunet and turned his attention to Garcia.

“It’s Spencer and Y/N anniversary in a couple of weeks and we are gonna help our beautiful genius.” She said with the biggest smile. Luke laughed at Spencer’s confusion.

“Oh, this gonna be so much fun.” Garcia clapped.

You, on the other hand, were on a phone call with Emily ranting about it. You had no idea how to start. You knew what you were going to get him, sorta. Okay, you thought about one thing. But it wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel like enough.

“Y/N, calm down.” Emily laughed.

“Emily! Please, I need your help.” You groaned while Emily let another laugh.

“How about a picnic?” She suggested.

“I don’t know. He probably won’t like the grass being close to the food. And then there’s all the people at the park. I don’t think Spencer would enjoy all the germs there must be. ” You rubbed your eyes, stressing out.

“Well, picnics don’t have to be in parks.” And that, folks, is why in Emily Prentiss we trust. You both started scheming to make this the best anniversary ever.

It wasn’t a competition but not even an unbiased jury of profilers and behavior specialists can decipher which one of you two was more nervous.

On one hand, we had Spencer checking his gift that he put in the backseat so you wouldn’t be able to peak. His head wasn’t even in the conversation you were trying to form, keyword trying. He just felt his hands getting clammy. His heart was in his throat, not literally but he felt it. He had never done something like this.

Then, on the other hand, we had you. Gripping the steering wheel as if someone was going to rip it from you. You were trying to calm yourself down by talking with Spencer but he kept looking over his shoulder, staring at the gift he got you. He said he wasn’t gonna show it to you till you reached your destination. The minute you saw a big purple gift bag, you felt your heart stop. But also your brain starts to run. What if he didn’t like your gifts?

You parked in front of the location and turned off the car. Spencer gave you a soft smile and grabbed your hand. He kissed it and rubbed the place where he planted the kiss.

“What was that for?” You giggled.

“No reason. Just because I love you.” He gave you a wink. You grabbed his face and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“C’mon, sweetie. Let’s go.” You opened your car door and headed out. You entered the place, trying to set out everything.

“You can do this, Reid.” Spencer took a deep breath, grabbed the gift, and headed to where you were.

Spencer knocked on the door and quickly you opened it. You gave him a smile and let him in. Spencer gasped.

“Ta-da!” It was an art gallery, filled with brand new paintings and unknown artists. But in the middle of the room, there was a blanket, a light candle, and a picnic basket.

“What? I- How did you do this?" Spencer couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was just too overwhelming.

"Well, Emily Prentiss has friends in high places. And one of them just so happened to own this gallery." You explained, grabbing his hands leading him to the blanket. "So what do you think?"

"I love it so much! It's- Woah." Spencer was speechless. His eyes were sparkling with love. He couldn't believe it.

"Did I just render doctor Spencer Reid speechless?" You joked, Spencer rolled his eyes.

"You know it's not that difficult for you." You smiled at his words. Spencer remembered his gift and started to scratch his neck nervously. How could he top this? What he didn’t realize is that you are still nervous.

"Do you- uhm- want to have your gift right now?" He grabbed the purple gift bag, clenching it close to his heart.

“Well if you want to.” You said, trying to ease his discomfort.

“I mean you already gave me my present and it was spectacular. It’s only fair and just that I give you yours. Obviously, if you want to wait it’s fine by me. Or if you don’t want it till we get home, I understand. I-” Spencer rambled, before being cut off by you.

“Spence, hey, calm down. First of all, this isn’t your only gift.” You stated. Spencer looked at you strangely.

“Woah, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but this is enough. I mean look at this. This is incredible. I can’t believe you did this. I love everything about it. It’s the best way to have a picnic. ” He exclaimed. You chuckled at your boyfriend’s excitement.

“It’s just a small thing. Don’t worry about it. Now.” You made grabby hands at him, and he laughed while giving you the gift. You opened the bag to see a familiar color purple ball of yarn, a box, and a little book.

“I know you like my purple scarf and since I take it to cases sometimes, so I made you one.” You pulled the scarf out of the bag.

“How?” You gasped.

“Garcia took me to this recreational center she volunteers at and they had a knitting class. I don’t know, it just made sense.” Spence explained.

“It’s even warmer than yours.” You said putting it around your neck. Spencer’s heart clenched. “Wait, there’s more. Right.” You pulled the box out of the bag and opened it. It was a simple gold necklace with an S on it. You gasped at the gift.

“Spencer, I-” “That’s not all. Look at the book.” It was a simple leather small letter notebook. You gave Spencer a look, to which he responded by giving you a reassuring smile.

You opened it to see Spencer’s writing on the first page.

Whenever you are feeling sad, lonely, or need a pick me up, read a page from this book.

With love, Spencer

“They are a collection of love letters. Or messages meant to be in love letters, to you.” He said softly.

“Oh, Spencer!.” You pulled into a hug. He gripped you tightly. You pulled away and started peppering kisses all over his face.

“I love you so much.” You said, grabbing his face. He smiled. Something Spencer loved was when you hold his face in your hands. It made him feel safe and loved.

“And I love you.” He leaned in and kissed you. You pulled away first and gave him a smile.

“‘Now time for your present.” You opened the basket to pull out a box. Spencer grabbed the box out of your hands and started to take off the gift wrap. Spencer gasped, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull.

“You didn’t.” He said his eyes never leaving the book in his hands. You chuckled. Spencer had recently been going through all of his mom’s scrapbooks. And you would sit in his lap while he explained every picture and every article. It was like a therapeutic thing. So you decided you wanted to make one for you guys.

“Oh but I did.” You winked at him. He went through the pictures with tears in his eyes. A year’s worth of memories, right there. He noticed there were a couple of blank pages.

“For the years to come.” You said softly.

“For the years to come.” Spencer repeated.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #mooselovescreators

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4stars-uswnt · 4 years

Text

A Shoulder to Lean On [Preath x Daughter!Reader]

requested by anon: More preath with daughter!reader? Something a little angsty where the reader came from a toxic home and can’t communicate her feelings very well with them and they’re worried about her a lot. And she finally feels safe enough to tell them she’s not been doing well mentally and they comfort her.

A/N: hope everyone had a happy holidays and a happy new year!! after a much much needed break, here’s some writing! lol it’s pretty long but i hope y’all enjoy it :)

warnings: mention and brief description of abuse, mention of bullying, slight swearing

“You ready, kiddo?” Tobin asks, as she rolls her suitcase to the front door of the apartment.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “I still don’t see why I have to go with you guys. I’m old enough to stay at home alone, and I’ve done it before.”

“You know why.” Christen gives you a stern glare, reminding you of the exact reason, as you roll your eyes.

A couple days ago, you had gotten into a fight at school. One of the guys in your class had been picking on you, calling you names, hitting you, and asking why your moms would adopt anyone like you, not that you’d told Tobin or Christen any of this.

Ever since you had been adopted about two years ago, when you were 15, you hadn’t been the best at openly communicating with your moms, especially about your feelings. Your previous home life wasn’t the best, as your biological parents would verbally, and sometimes even, physically abuse you.

After going through that whole ordeal and then jumping around in foster care, you weren’t used to expressing your emotions nor were you used to having people, like Tobin and Christen, who actually cared for you.

So when the two soccer players took you in and adopted you, it was certainly an adjustment for you. You found yourself often bottling everything up and then lashing out, usually taking form in a yelling match between you and your moms.

Both Tobin and Christen, but particularly the curly-haired forward, were worried about you. They knew you hadn’t ever actually had the chance to process the traumatic events of your childhood, and your coping mechanism of keeping it all to yourself was not healthy. However, every time they tried to talk to you, you would brush them off.

Though, their worried had been heightened a couple of days ago, when they’d found out you’d resorted to physical violence, punching a boy in the face. But they couldn’t let your actions go unpunished, hence why you were traveling with them to Cincinnati for the USWNT’s SheBelieves Cup training camp and matches.

“Whatever,” you mutter under your breath.

“Come on, this is hardly a punishment.” Christen squeezes your shoulder, decidedly ignoring your comment, and picks up her bag, motioning for you to do the same. “In fact, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“I doubt it.” You grab your duffel, as the three of you make your way downstairs.

“Emily and Lindsey will be there,” Tobin offers, knowing that might cheer you up. Living in Portland, you spent a lot of time with the two blonde women and formed a sisterly relationship with them.

You shrug, trying to hide the excitement bubbling within you.

“Come on you two,” Christen calls over her shoulder, as she packs the suitcases into the trunk of the Uber.

“Just try and tone down the attitude, for your mom’s sake, okay kiddo?” Tobin suggests, patting your shoulder. You roll your eyes but nod in agreement.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you huff quietly to yourself, sliding into the backseat, as the three of you make your way to the airport.

——————

As you walk into the lobby of the hotel, trailing behind your moms, you hear someone call your name.

“(Y/N)!” Emily runs across the room and hops on your bag, Lindsey following close behind.

You wince, as the two older women crash into you and squish your body.

“You’re here at camp!” Lindsey claps your shoulder. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I’m gonna head up to my room.”

You give them a small smile, wiggling out of their hold, and approach your moms.

“Could I have a key to the room please?”

“Here you go.” Christen pulls out the card from her coat pocket, placing it in your hand. “We’re having team dinner at 6, so be down by then.”

You nod and head down the hall to the elevators.

—————

A couple hours later, after you’d unpacked, showered, and scrolled through your phone, you walked into the large conference room, where the team dinner was set up.

Knowing the routine by now, you grabbed a plate and began to serve yourself some food. Scanning the room, you decide to take a seat next to Sonny and across from Lindsey, your moms only a few seats down.

As you begin to take a bite of salad, you feel Emily nudge your elbow. “So was what you did so bad that your parents had to force you to come to camp?” The defender shovels a mouth full of food, looking at you expectantly.

You furrow your brow. “Huh?”

“Well,” Lindsey chimes in. “You rarely ever come to national camp anymore, and when you do it’s usually a punishment of some sort because you look miserable.”

“Fair.” You nod, taking another bite.

“Well, you gonna spill the beans?” Mal asks, joining the conversation.

“Just stuff at school.” You shrug, as the youngsters around you exchange glances.

“What happened at school?” Rose raises her eyebrows.

“Nothing,” you mumble, ducking you head. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Ignoring you, Sonnett keeps pushing. “Did you not do your homework? Get a bad grade on a test? Ooooo did you get into a fight?” The defender leans forward on the edge of her seat, poking your arm, as the rest of the younger players pause their meal, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You feel yourself getting increasingly agitated, and you clench your hand around your fork.

“Emily!” Tobin calls out from across the table. “Stop being so nosy and cut it—”

“I said I didn’t wanna talk about it!” You yell, as you slam your fist down onto the table, causing the plates and silverware to clatter. The entire room goes silent, everybody turning to look at you to see what’ll happen next.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) Press-Heath!” Christen scolds, giving you a glare, nodding her head to the door. “Outside, now.”

You drop your utensils and push your chair away from the table, following your mom out of the room.

Once the two of you are alone out in the hallway, the silence becomes unbearable. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed, you hang your head and avoid eye contact with Christen.

“(Y/N), what happened in there?” Anger evident was evident in the forward’s voice, but she remained calm.

You shrug your shoulders, putting your hands in your hoodie pocket.

Frustrated by your behavior, Christen sighs, “That behavior is absolutely unacceptable, and you know that, (Y/N/N). You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, mom,” you murmur, intensely staring at the plain pattern on the hotel carpet.

“Look at me, honey.” Christen gently lifts your chin with her finger, her eyes softening. “Talk to me.”

You lock eyes with your mom and feel guilt pulling at your heart. You knew that your parents wanted what was best for you and that they actually cared for you, unlike your biological ones, but after what you’d been through, you couldn’t bring yourself to open up very easily.

“I’m just tired,” you easily lie, your eyes fleeting from Christen’s green orbs.

“Okay,” your mom sighs in defeat. “Well in that case, go upstairs and get some rest.”

You give her a small smile and turn to make your way towards the elevators. Before you could get too far, Christen calls after you, “And don’t come back down until you’ve lost the attitude!”

Looking back at her, you throw up a thumbs up, before pushing the up button. After a quick elevator ride up to the third floor, you unlock the hotel room you shared with your moms. Glancing over at your backpack leaning against the desk, you know you should probably start your homework and study for your biology test, but the bed calls to you, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep under the covers, sleep taking over.

—————

The next morning, you wake up in a bed all by yourself. Looking over at the opposite bed, you notice it’s empty, your moms already up. You glance at the clock. 8:17 am. Rolling over to grab your phone of the nightstand, you check your text messages and see one from the group chat with your moms.

Ma 🤙:

Morning kiddo. Breakfast starts at 8 but we didn’t wanna wake you. Hope you slept well. Please be down before 9. Love u

You simply give the text a thumbs up, before sliding out of bed and making your way to the bathroom for a shower.

Once the water is to the temperature of your liking, you step under the hot water, steam filling the bathroom. You were honestly grateful your moms had already gone down to breakfast, as it left you alone to shower in peace.

When you were back at your old home, the shower was the only place you could escape. You would use it as a place of refuge, where the water would drown out all the noise of your parents’ yelling and screaming, numb the pain of your cuts and bruises, and leave you to empty your mind.

Closing your eyes, you let the water hit your face and drip down your body. You try to feel every single drop when it hits and as it falls, grounding yourself in the present.

After a few minutes, you pull your head out from under the water, wipe your eyes, and get on with cleaning yourself.

Once you’ve finished showering and getting dressed, you make your way down to breakfast. You grab a banana and a yogurt before sitting down across from your moms.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Christen coos. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” you respond, as you peel your banana.

“You feeling better?” Tobin subtly asks, raising her eyebrow at you.

You nod, your mouth too full to voice a response.

The two women exchange a worried glance, causing you to roll your eyes. “Moms, I’m fine.”

“Alright, kiddo,” Tobin sighs. “Just know if you ever need to talk about anything, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, giving her a small smile.

“Well,” Christen starts, as she begins to clear her plate. “We have to leave for training in about ten minutes, so you either have two options: you can either come to the field with us and watch training or you can stay at the hotel and do your homework and study for that test coming up.”

You grimace at your options, not really like either of them. Before you can formulate your decision, your mom interjects, “And yes, you would actually have to do homework. Phil agreed to stay back with you of that’s what you choose.”

“Like a babysitter?” You scoff.

“No,” Christen calmly states. “Just someone to make sure you’re actually doing your work. And Phil does have an MD, so he’d probably be able to help you with your biology.”

“I think I’d rather come watch your training,” you decide, wanting to see your moms play, also having some interest in the sport of soccer.

“Awesome!” Tobin grins at you. The forward had been trying to warm you up to the idea of playing soccer, obviously not pushing anything onto you, but she couldn’t be faulted for trying.

“Okay.” Christen nods, putting a hand on her girlfriend’s arm to calm her down. “That means you will have to study and finish your work later.” She gives you a stern look, daring you to protest.

You nod, taking one last bite of your strawberry yogurt and putting the banana peel in the plastic cup.

“Okie dokie. It’s time to go. Let’s get moving.” Tobin slaps the table, getting up from her seat.

After quickly cleaning up breakfast, you follow your moms, along with the rest of the team, onto the bus. Looking down the aisle, you try to find an open seat, knowing your moms sit together.

“(Y/N)!” Emily shouts, waving to you from the back of the bus. “Come sit with us.”

You make your way towards where all the youngsters sat and see that Emily and Lindsey have squished together, making room for you on the aisle seat.

As you plop down, Sonnett rests her hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N), I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have been so nosy. It won’t happen again.”

“Thanks, Em.” You nod, a small smile on your face. “And I’m sorry for snapping and yelling like I did.”

“It’s no problem, (Y/N/N).” Emily grins, ruffling your hair, as she goes back to being her goofy self.

For the rest of the bus ride, you watch and listen to the youngsters antics, ranging from Sam’s terrible puns to Mal’s mediocre rapping. To your surprise, you find yourself having a decent time, glad to be spending time with people somewhat close to your age.

—————

After getting off the bus and arriving to the field, the team slips on their gear and starts warming up. You find a seat on the bench, bundling up in your mom’s puffy jacket.

About an hour and a half later, Vlatko blows his whistle, signaling the official end of practice, but a bunch of the players remain on the field, either getting in some last minute shots or playing a fun game of 1v1 or 2v2.

“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Lindsey yells from across the field, where her Emily and Mal are playing keep away. “Come join us.”

You glance over to your moms, silently asking for approval, to which they both give you a thumbs up and large grins, encouraging you to go play.

Getting up from the bench, you jog over to the group of younger players.

“So it’s gonna be me and you versus Sonny and Mal. Sound good?” The blonde midfielder asks you, passing the ball to your feet.

All you can do is nod, before Emily is quickly pressuring you, almost stealing the ball. Trying to remember a move you’ve seen Tobin do a million times before, you roll the ball out in front of you, baiting the blonde defender, and then quickly slip it through Sonnett’s legs, passing it to Lindsey.

“Wooooo!” Tobin cheers from behind you. “Nice move, kiddo!”

“You taught her well, babe,” Christen gushes to her girlfriend, bumping their shoulders.

For a second, all Emily can do is stand in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just megged me, (Y/N/N). How could you do that to me?” She gasps, feigning offense, as she puts her hand on her chest.

Rolling your eyes, you playfully shove the older woman. “Don’t be so dramatic, Sonny.”

As the four of you continue your game of keep away, you can’t help but love the way the ball feels at your feet and the way you have complete control over it. The control and freedom of the game feels nice, practically foreign.

Lindsey makes a pass to you, splitting the two defenders. Once you receive the ball, Emily is, once again, quickly on your back, but this time, as you hold the ball away from her, shielding it with your body, she can’t control her momentum and crashes into you.

You fall to the ground with a huff, feeling the wind knocked out of you, as you’re not really used to the physicality of soccer. Rolling over so you can sit up, you grimace. “Ouch.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N/N),” Emily chuckles, as she moves to stand over you, holding out her arm to help you up. “That tackle wasn’t that hard, probably didn’t even hurt at all. Don’t be such a baby.”

The words ring in your head, triggering old memories of the man who called himself your father. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he’d say whenever you whined about something, even though that was to be expected of a five year old. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he’d say as he slapped or kicked you. ‘Don’t be such a baby,” he’d say when you told him about the bullies at school. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he’d say, and so you didn’t, at least you tried.

As you ground yourself back in the present moment, you to catch your breath, as you gasp for air. The rage ultimately consumes you, as your blinded by the pent up anger and resentment you held towards your father.

You abruptly push yourself up off the ground and get in Emily’s face. “Don’t talk to me like that!” You grit between your teeth.

“Woah, (Y/N).” Emily backs away from you, holding her hands up in innocence. “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You yell, pushing the other woman’s shoulders, causing her to stumble backwards.

“Alright, (Y/N/N).” Lindsey quickly moves in between the two of you. “You’re okay.” She tries to calm you down, but to no avail.

Tobin and Christen, hearing the commotion and your yelling, run over to you and gently but firmly grab you, pulling you away from the blonde defender.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Christen scolds. “We’re going back to the hotel. Now.”

The three of you make your way towards one of the team vans, your moms deciding it would be better than to ride back on the bus with the rest of the team.

During the ride back to the hotel, a tense silence hung in the air. You still hadn’t cooled off, your fists clenched and your knees bouncing. Though your mom was upset by your behavior, she couldn’t help but worry, stealing glances at you in the rear view mirror.

The elevator ride is much more of the same, no one daring to speak until you’re in the privacy of the hotel room. Even as you enter the room and take a seat on your bed across from your parents, you’re still silent, waiting for your moms to yell at you.

Tobin waits, her eyes darting between her daughter and her girlfriend, as she knows Christen is usually the disciplinary out of the two of them. Christen, herself, is choosing her words wisely, not wanting her frustration to boil over.

“(Y/N),” your mom begins her scolding. “That behavior is absolutely unacceptable! It’s one thing to be getting into fights at school, but here, at our workplace and with our teammates, that won’t be tolerated.”

You hang your head, as you fidget with your fingers, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetie,” Christen gently directs. Lifting your head, you meet the looks of both your moms, and you can’t stop the guilt from bubbling in your chest.

“I’m sorry, moms,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, or disappoint you.”

“Thank you for your apology.” Your moms move to seat on either side of you.

“We forgive you, kiddo.” Tobin says, taking your hand in hers. “But we’re worried about you. And until you talk to us and tell us what’s going on, we can’t help you and that’s all we want to do.”

You slightly shake your head in disbelief. “Why?”

“What?” Your ma furrows her brows, confused.

“Why do you wanna help me?” You say a little louder, getting frustrated by the thoughts in your own head. After having to fend for yourself for so long, the thought of depending on others was still difficult for you to accept.

“Because we care, (Y/N). We love you,” Christen cries, as her voice cracks, and she rubs your back soothingly.

“Well I don’t need your help!” You exclaim angrily, shaking off your moms hands, as you stand up from the bed to turn to face them.

At your outburst, Christen’s heart breaks with the weight of defeat. Taking a deep breath, trying to compose herself, her face hardens.

“Watch your tone when you speak to us,” your mom sternly states, her eyes telling you that she’s not messing around. “You’re going to stay in this room and finish your homework and study for your test. No TV, no phone, nothing but your school work. Got it?”

You nod, gulping down the knot in your throat, as tears burn your eyes.

“Hand over the phone, kiddo.” Tobin holds her hand out and gives you a sympathetic smile.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out your phone and and place it into your moms open hand.

“We’ll leave you to it.” Christen moves closer to you, before kissing your forehead. “We love you, (Y/N/N), and that’s why we’re doing this.”

All you can do is watch as your moms exit the room, Tobin grabbing the television remotes on her way out. Sighing, you plop down on the bed and run your hand through your hair.

For a second, you contemplate just taking a nap and not doing any of your work, but you knew if you did that, your moms would be even more upset, and you did’t want to test that.

So, you unwillingly sit down at the desk and pull out your laptop and notebooks, starting with your history homework.

—————

After about two hours, you’d completed all your homework and started reviewing for your biology test. It wasn’t that school was hard or that you had trouble understanding the material, it was just that you did’t like doing the monotonous work. You never really saw the point in doing homework if you already understood the concepts.

You check the clock and notice it’s 6 o’clock, almost dinner time. Sitting up straight, you stretch arch forward, stretching your back and lifting your arms.

You wonder what your moms wanted you to do for dinner, but seeing as you had no way to contact them, you decide just to quickly grab something from the team’s buffet and pray they don’t see you. However, you have a feeling they wouldn’t be too upset at you for not staying in the room if you were getting food, but you knew you’d pushed the envelope earlier, so you honestly didn’t know what to expect.

Quietly closing the door behind you, you quickly make your way down the hall towards the elevator. Just as you’re about to turn the corner, you hear your mom’s voice.

“I just don’t know what to do. I mean she’s never really opened up to us that much, but she’s never resorted to violence.”

Immediately you press yourself against the wall, hiding yourself but also so you can hear what they’re gonna say.

“Well, I don’t know if you can keep bringing her to camp anymore, especially if she’s gonna act like that.” You hear Megan’s voice echo in the hallway, and you feel a pit form in your stomach.

“Hey,” Tobin protests, coming to your defense. “(Y/N)’s a good kid. I think she’s just been through some stuff, but I think she enjoys coming to camp and hanging out with the team, even maybe playing soccer.”

You fondly smile, hearing your ma defend you to her good friend, even when you weren’t there.

“I think I’m gonna run up some dinner to her after we eat,” Christen says, worry evident in her voice. “I may have been too harsh on her.”

“Babe, it’s a tough situation, but I think you handled it very well,” Tobin tries to ease her girlfriend’s concerns.

“Hey, why don’t I bring her her dinner and maybe talk to her a little?” Ashlyn offers. “I mean I just thought I might be able to get through to her, maybe even share some of my own experiences with her.”

“That’d be great, Ash, thanks.” You see your mom, but you can hear the smile in her voice.

You don’t hear the rest of the conversation, as you turn around and quickly make your way back to your room, now that you know Ash is bringing you some food.

—————

It was about an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. “Hey, (Y/N), it’s Ashlyn. I brought you some dinner.”

Getting up from the desk, you go to open the door, revealing the blonde goalkeeper holding a plate of food. “Hey, Ash. Thanks for the food.”

“Can I come in?”

You bite your lip, weighing your options. “Yeah, sure.” Opening the door wider, you move to let her in.

Following her into the room, you place your plate on the desk, after moving your work to the side. You sit down to start eating, when you notice that Ashlyn is still watching you from the end of your bed.

“Ummm,” you mumble awkwardly. “Was there something you wanna talk about?” You ask, even though you already had a good idea as to where this conversation was heading.

Ash takes a deep breath before talking. “Look, (Y/N), I’m just gonna be straight up with you. I know about the fight you had at school, and I saw what happened at dinner last night, and I saw the almost fight you had with Sonnett today at practice. And I know that you’re not that kid, because I’ve heard what your moms have had to say about you.

“But I also know that this aggression, this anger, that you have, it’s not healthy. I don’t know if it’s some pent up shit or if it’s something you’re going through currently, but whatever it is that’s bothering you, it’s not gonna go away if you keep it to yourself.

“And honestly, I should know because I’ve dealt with some tough shit that life’s dealt me, but you know what? I didn’t get through that alone, and neither will you. But luckily, you have two amazing and supportive moms that are there for you, and will support and love you, but only if you let them. You even have all of us because this team is a family, and so now you’re part of that.

“So basically, I’m just here if you wanted to talk. It doesn’t even have to be about school or what’s been happening. Could be about anything: your favorite food, the stupid biology test I heard you’ve been studying for, Tobin’s weird obsession with using the same three emojis, Christen’s morning routine, whatever you want, I’m here.”

During Ashlyn’s speech, a whirl of emotions circulate your body, but most of all, you feel warm. You feel warm knowing you have people in your corner rooting for you, something you weren’t entirely familiar with before.

Almost as if the older woman’s words had knocked down a damn, your eyes flood with tears, sobs wrecking your body.

“I just— I’ve never had anybody who— They were always so mean— I could never say anything— I didn’t want—,” you gasp, struggling to breath with the intensity of your crying.

“Shhhhh, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” Ash coos, as she wraps her arms around you, allowing you to cry into her chest.

After a couple of minutes, after your tears have subsided and your breathing’s evened out, you sniffle, pulling out of the goalie’s embrace.

“I didn’t really have the best childhood growing up with my biological family, you know, before Tobin and Christen,” you begin to explain the shortened and simplified version of your story.

“My parents weren’t the best, actually they were the worst,” you say with a chuckle, knowing that was an understatement. “The kids at school, Emily at the dinner table and at practice, it’s all just a trigger, reminding me of things my parents used to do and say. I guess, when I was younger, I never really processed what happened, so now, I just react with all this anger that I have for my parents.”

“(Y/N).” Ashlyn squeezes your shoulder. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I really think that if you talked to Tobin and Christen and opened up to them, even if it’s just what they told me, they’d still love you and support you.”

“Really?” You ask, uncertain.

“Mhmm,” she hums. “As much as it would calm their worrying, and you know how much Chris can worry sometimes,” the two of you share a laugh at that, “I think that this is something you need as well: to have parents in your life who will actually be parents for you, who will guide you, support you, love and care for you, tell you when you’re being stupid, give you advice, let you make bad decisions because that’s how you’ll learn, let you be your true self. I think, deep down, that that’s something you truly want.”

You follow her words and nod. “Yeah,” you sigh. “I do want that.”

Ashlyn gives you a soft smile, as she stands up from the bed. “How about I go get your moms and you guys can talk?”

“That’d be great,” you agree. Just as Ash’s about to leave, you call out to her, “And Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” You give her a sincere smile, trying to convey your gratitude.

Ashlyn just nod with a grin, receiving your message, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

—————

After Ash left, you started to pace around the room, nerves fluttering in your stomach, as you were mentally rehearsing what you were gonna say to your moms.

About ten minutes later, a knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. “Sweetie,” you hear Christen’s muffled voice. “Can we come in?”

“Yeah,” you call back, resuming your pacing, as the two women enter the room.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tobin approaches you. “Ash said you wanted to talk to us?”

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath and shake your hands, ridding yourself of the nerves. As you sit down on the bed, both of your moms take a seat opposite you on the other bed.

“I just wanted to explain some stuff to you guys, tell you my story or whatever, you know, all that jazz,” you stammered awkwardly.

“(Y/N/N), we don’t want you to feel pressured to tell us anything if you’re not ready,” Christen assures.

“No, I need to share this with you. I want to,” you insist, adamantly shaking your head.

“Okay, we’re here for you.” Tobin nods, giving you an encouraging smile.

You take another deep breath before diving into the story of your life. “As you obviously know, my biological parents weren’t really fit for raising a child, which is why you adopted me, but you already knew that.”

You run your hands through your hair, as this was proving to be more difficult than you thought. But looking at the warm and understanding eyes of your moms, you push through.

“My parents, especially my father, were abusive, both verbally and physically. It started as early as I can remember. They would always be calling me names and insulting me if I didn’t do things correctly, even for the tiniest mistakes like leaving the toothpaste on the counter.

“Growing up with that and hearing it everyday, I started to believe it. I thought I was useless and stupid, a no good child, those words ingrained in my mind. But I was taught not to show any emotions. ‘Don’t be such a baby’ is what they’d always say to me.

“So, I learned to hide it all, even if that meant keeping it all to myself. I guess that’s why I’ve been acting out recently; it’s all bubbling over, exploding out of me.”

You quickly glance at your moms, scanning their faces for any hints of disgust or anger, but all you can see is empathy and sadness.

“I didn’t tell you this, but I guess I should’ve: the kids at school bully me, calling me names, insulting me, and sometimes even kicking me. Sometimes, they even talk about you two, why you’re together or why you would adopt someone like me.

“At dinner yesterday, Emily just kept pushing me to talk, which I’ve never really encountered before, and I was really uncomfortable, so I just snapped. And at training, she said ‘don’t be such a baby’ after she’d tackled me, and those words triggered all those memories of my father, and all that anger and hatred I have for him just came out.

Hanging your head, tears falling down your cheeks, you bite your trembling lip. “I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior, and I accept my punishments, but I just thought you should know my past, especially because your my moms and I’m your daughter.”

Through the blur of the pools in your eyes, you see your moms giving you a sad, fond smile.

Sniffling, you choke back a sob. “I’m sorry I’m not the perfect daughter you guys wanted, but I love you, moms.”

Tobin and Christen immediately move to either side of you, wrapping you up in their arms and rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Oh, (Y/N/N),” Christen whispers, kissing your temple. “Sweetie, will you look at me.”

Lifting your head from the crook of her neck, you meet her teary eyes.

“(Y/N), we don’t want a perfect daughter. We want you, every single part of you, even the most scarred and damaged parts of you, because you know what?” She brushes loose hair out of your face.

“Hmm?”

“All those parts of you are what make you you. (Y/N), you are an incredibly intelligent, kind, caring, and beautiful soul, even with all your scars.”

“Don’t forget talented!” Tobin chirps from next to you. “I saw that nutmeg earlier today.” She smirks, as she gives you a knowing look, causing you all to share a wet chuckle.

“Thanks, moms.” You lean your head against Tobin’s shoulder and hold Christen’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m so grateful for you, moms. I love you guys.”

“We love you, too, kiddo.” Your ma leans down to kiss the top of your head, as Christen lovingly snuggles against your side, humming in agreement.

“And just know that if you ever need to talk to anybody or just need a shoulder to lean or cry on, we’re always here for you.”

You nod against her shoulder and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of contentment and warmth, the feeling of home that you found between the love of your moms.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #preath x reader #preath x daughter!reader #uswnt #tobin heath #christen press #preath

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scullydubois · 3 years

Text

Only the Light Ch. 20

I now present to you a chapter that is filled with more angst than Chris Carter could ever dream of, and for that, I am truly sorry.

Scully and Mulder's foray into domesticity with Emily is interrupted by the past catching up to them. Faced with despair, they cling even tighter to each other.

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

Scully is granted maternity leave, though it’s only for two weeks, which Missy let her know is “a piss-poor bargain.” And she knows this is true, but she also has more incentive to stay at her job than ever, so she’d like not to lose it. The fact that advocating for herself and her child would mean risking her job is a mess in itself, but one lone woman can’t be expected to take down the patriarchy, and besides, she’s already tried and failed.

As for she and Mulder, they hide their flirtation in plain sight. Mulder’s perpetually present in body or spirit, but his behavior never reveals anything more than it did before. Every morning he swings by to say hi, brings Scully coffee and a bagel with full-fat cream cheese, and checks if Emily’s picked up any new words. Personally, he’s working on “alien” and if you ask him, she’ll get it soon. She knows that it refers to her UFO stuffie, so sounding out the letters can’t be far behind, much to her mother’s dismay.

On Wednesday of the first week, he shows up at 6pm with takeout carbonara from a local Italian joint. His presence makes every Scully girl happy, but it makes one in particular the happiest, and Melissa realizes that there are definitely things her sister has failed to mention. She doesn’t question it, but watches with glee as the situation unfolds.

After that first night, Mulder keeps coming back with dinner and refuses to let either sister shoulder the cost. On Friday, he stays for a movie too and gets to participate in Emily’s nightly tucking-in ritual (a tickle on the left foot, a tickle on the right foot, and a big smooch on the forehead).

Saturday afternoon, he joins them for a stroller push through the park, earning some serious side-eye from Scully when he suggests that they stop at the playground because, according to the mama bear, “Em can only take six steps at a time, Mulder.” So instead they buy hotdogs from a vendor and eat them on a bench, Emily sandwiched between her mother, her aunt, and her...Mulder. They couldn’t ask for more.

That night, Mulder hangs around after dinner because what else is he gonna do? Go home and watch old baseball games until he falls asleep? A new leaf has been offered to him, and he’s gotta turn it.

He’s baffled when, upon announcing that it’s Emily’s bathtime, Scully goes to the kitchen and switches on the sink.

Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What, your mother never washed you in the sink when you were a baby?”

“Not that I know of...I have a hard time envisioning myself ever fitting in a sink.”

Scully scoffs. “I forget. You were a Vineyard boy.”

Before he can come up with a smart response to that (as if there actually is one), Missy pipes up. “Oh, I bet you were the kid that took baths with your mother,” she teases. “Care to confirm or deny?”

“If I did I blocked it out of memory, thank god,” he testifies.

Having spread a towel on the counter, Scully strips Emily down and perches the girl on her hip. She sticks her hand under the faucet.

“That’s not too hot, do you think?” she asks Missy, who tests it as well.

“That should be fine.”

Mulder joins in too, and immediately regrets it. He shrinks away from the water, shaking droplets all over the room. “Jesus, Scully! Are you trying to boil her?”

“Babies lose heat quickly because of their body surface to weight ratio,” she says matter-of-factly. “They’re more susceptible to the cold.”

“I think the cold will be the least of her worries,” Mulder quips.

“If you really think it’s too hot, I’ll turn it down…” There’s a concerned crease beneath her eyes, and it makes Mulder feel bad about his joking.

“No, no, you know what you’re doing,” he assures her. “You’re her mother.”

As she lowers Em into the sink, Scully’s heart twinges. Her. A mother. How many times will she have to hear this before it stops feeling like news to her?

One week and bathtime has already become routine. Missy fills a plastic cup and pours it gently over her niece, the water cascading down Em like she is nature’s own. Scully soaps her palms, then glides over her daughter’s skin with such care that its memory may blight any future affection Em is graced with. And then another waterfall, and the gentle brush of a wash cloth against eyes and nose.

Scully squeezes a penny’s worth of baby shampoo into her hand, looks to Mulder. “Come on, get in here. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” she says with a smirk.

He smirks back and shakes his head as she lifts his open palm and shrinks her accumulation to a dime. “Although, technically I am getting my hands cleaner…”

She boops him right on the nose with a shampooed finger. He laughs.

Missy smiles. Oh, to see destiny play out right in front of you. “Someone’s cracking dad jokes,” she points out, unable to resist. This observation is much too on-the-nose for the pair (quite literally for Mulder), who simultaneously blush but say nothing.

Mulder wipes the shampoo from his nose and plants it on Emily’s head, joining his partner in making soapy circles over the girl’s tuft of strawberry hair. Scully’s full attention is directed toward her daughter. As soon as the lather is sufficient, she dons the lifted lilt of motherhood. “Okay, time to rinse! Missy, will you do the honors?”

Missy turns the faucet, fills the cup, and lets it flow over Emily. Mulder and Scully wash their hands off in the stream.

And as Scully leans for the towel, a splash of red dirties its fresh white surface. Mulder notices it first. He points at his partner’s porcelain face. “Scully, you’re bleeding.”

Her hand shoots to her nose. Sure enough, it stains her fingers. “Shit.” She turns away, goes for a tissue. “I haven’t had nosebleeds since I was fourteen,” she tells them, as if that invalidates this one. She wipes away a glob of blood, her stomach turning. “Missy--” her voice shakes involuntarily, “--will you dry Em off?”

“Uh-huh.” She nudges Mulder. “Will you grab a new towel from the linen closet?” she whispers, not wanting to further upset her sister.

Mulder goes off without a word, and Missy squeezes out Em’s hair as best she can. “What a pretty girl!” she gushes. “All clean!”

“Yee!” Emily throws her little fists in the air, injecting joy back into the room.

“Time to put your PJs on, and get a tickle, tickle, smooch.”

Mulder scrambles back in with a new towel, skirting around Scully, who remains occupied with her own situation. He slides the soiled towel away and helps Missy swaddle Em. Mulder ruffles the little girl’s hair, and she laughs like a music box.

“Mol-dy.” She spits it out in halves, as if she’s been rehearsing.

Mulder’s eyes water with recognition. “Mulder? Mul-der? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Moldy,” the girl declares again, certain of herself.

Missy adjusts Em on her hip, smiles at Mulder. “Looks like you’re Moldy now.”

Mulder bites his lip to hide his overwhelming delight. “Yeah, I...I never thought I'd be so happy to be called moldy.”

Next thing he knows, Scully is at his shoulder with a tissue stuffed up her nostrils. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Em called me Moldy,” he tells her, full of satisfaction.

“Oh.” It comes out relatively unimpressed, but really, she’s just distracted. “Missy, will you get a diaper on her before there’s an accident? I would but I’m still--” She gestures to her nose.

“Yeah, yeah.” Missy smiles at the baby in her arms. “PJ time, Em!” They go off toward the bedroom, a happy pair.

As soon as Em is out of sight, Mulder spirals toward his partner, panic-stricken. The glee of moments ago has evaporated.

“Are you okay?” He touches her hair, shoulders, and the familiar small of her back, unsure of where he should land.

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Her grip on his elbows--keeping his hands firmly placed on her waistline--suggests otherwise.

“You’ve got to see a doctor,” he pleads. “This could be...”

“This could be what, Mulder?” The steel in her blue eyes is a death grip. She’s never liked being told the obvious.

“Scully…” He sighs, rubs his neck, wills her to say what they both know. When she doesn’t, he takes his hands off her and wrings them together. “The Mufon women...they said it would happen to all of them eventually.” He’s careful not to lump Scully in with their group.

“And what do they know?” she retorts. “One of them was sick. One.”

“Okay, well, don’t you think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” he reasons. “You have Emily to look out for now.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Don’t guilt trip me. It’s a nosebleed. Those happen all the time for completely benign reasons.”

“Yeah, but they don’t happen to you. You just said--you haven’t had one since you were fourteen.”

She clenches her jaw. He’s right, and she’s playing the fool. His position is the one she would take if this were anyone other than herself. She’s gonna have to lose this fight with as much grace as possible.

“Fine. I’ll get it checked out, but they’re gonna think I’m insane for coming in because of one nosebleed.”

“That’s a nice change of pace--you being the insane one for once.”

“Well, you’re the one who wants me to go, so you’re not out of the woods.”

“Good, I’ve finally got some company!”

Scully smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, yes you do.”

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

It happens very quickly, as most calamities of life can be said to. This gives it the unreal quality of a nightmare that might soon be woken up from, if there is any justice in the world.

Scully snags a doctor’s appointment for three days after the initial nosebleed. By the time she walks into the waiting room, one nosebleed has quadrupled into four, and her minor concern has snowballed into abject terror.

Margaret Scully drove into the city to watch Emily so Missy could join her sister. Scully insisted that she would go alone, but Missy wouldn’t accept this. She threatened to tell Mulder the details of the appointment if Dana didn’t let her go, and that was enough to earn her a spot in the passenger seat. Scully can’t take the thought of Mulder witnessing the worst--let alone her reaction to the worst.

And so it goes something like this: they are taken to an exam room, at which point Scully explains her situation to a nurse, including that she has recently learned she is at high risk for cancer. The nurse assures her that such a diagnosis is highly unlikely, but makes a note for the doctor. The doctor comes in with knitted eyebrows and listens to Scully describe the aftermath of her abduction experience with a heavy emphasis on the convoluted but substantial claims of the Mufon women. She asks if Scully has had any other symptoms, to which Scully replies that it’s hard to tell because she has an infant in the house and thus, a marked lack of sleep.

The doctor laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, more of an I feel your pain. She agrees that the women’s claims are concerning, but tells her patient not to fret. They’ll take all the precautions, run any test that might assuage her worries. There’s a quip about how it’ll be on the government’s dime since it covers Scully’s insurance, and then the doctor leaves to order an MRI.

A full body MRI, which Scully has never had, and which she hoped she would never require. There’s no deeper sickness than one that cannot be pinpointed, and no greater fear than of the unknown turning into the worst case scenario.

The MRI is completed that same day. As she slides into the machine, Scully thinks of Betsy Hagopian and wonders how she’s doing. It has been many months since she stood outside an exam room and watched Betsy enter one of these. Has fate been kind to her?

For a few minutes, her world is limited to the mere inches between her face and this life-saving yet life-ruining contraption. It is noisy and sometimes bright and altogether disorientating. She is glad when it’s over.

The images return almost immediately, and maybe it would all have been okay if Scully weren’t trained in radiology herself, if she wasn’t able to recognize the glaring speck of light in her nasal cavity for what it is. But that one glance is all she needs to know that waiting by the phone isn’t an option.

“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” she blurts as the radiologist tries to escort her and Melissa from the room. “In the nasal cavity. I have a M.D. I saw.”

“Your doctor will call with the results,” the radiologist insists, standing by the open doorway.

“No, no, you can’t do this to me,” Scully sputters. “I know what I saw, and I don’t have any time to waste.” Her eye twitches in a combination of stress and anger. “I have an infant daughter.”

The radiologist sighs, pity on top of pity. “Perhaps your doctor will talk it through with you now.”

“Yes. Please.”

And it is talked through, though there’s no need to make it complicated: nasopharyngeal carcinoma. Inoperable, and just barely in the realm of treatable. That’s the kicker, the coyote in the pasture, the cloud covering the sun. In the words of Scully’s doctor, it is auspiciously rare. And in Scully’s brain, it is the bottom she’s been expecting to drop out from under since she held her daughter in her arms.

Melissa drives home. The sisters cannot fathom how they will tell their mother. Cannot fathom ruining her blissful time with the granddaughter she’s just met. When they turn onto their street, Scully swallows hard and coughs on her own spit. “Will you do something for me?”

Missy looks over, eager to do anything she can, yet terrified by the possibility of the request.

“Will you take me to Mulder’s?” Scully mumbles. “I would just take the car but...I can’t face mom right now. I don’t want to risk it.”

Missy bites her lip. “And what am I supposed to tell mom when she asks where you are?”

“The truth,” Scully says curtly. “She doesn’t need the backstory.”

Missy drives past their building, though she’s not completely sold on her sister’s reasoning. “Don’t you think she might wonder why you aren’t coming home to your daughter?”

“I know she’ll wonder, Melissa, I know all of this,” Scully snaps because she needs to. “I don’t care.”

“Okay.” Missy’s voice is barely perceptible. I don’t care; she knows how low her sister has to be to say those words.

They complete the drive in silence, Scully biting her nails--a habit which she has never possessed, and perhaps just acquired. The car idles as Missy pulls up to the curb of Mulder’s building.

“I can pick you up when you need it,” she tells her sister as she pulls herself out of the car. “I’ll bring Em.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Scully says, closing the passenger door and edging toward the building. Missy hears a thanks float toward the car, then her sister is gone like a teenage girl embarrassed by her mother.

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

They sit on Mulder’s couch, muted. Words cannot fathom the injustice of this situation, nor can they suffice as empathy. Their hands are clasped together, a throughline of strength between them. This is what they need now; the most primitive language of all.

Scully’s watery eyes brush Mulder’s face. His own eyes, more pained than usual, look into hers. Without a word, she drapes an arm around her partner’s shoulders and scoots into his lap. He is surprised but not distressed. What else is left for them, now?

She is tiny, so tiny. And she is his.

Their eyes meet once again, speaking in tongues. Scully nods, and then Mulder does too. This is it. This is it.

Permission granted at last, Scully’s lips travel to her partner’s jawline. The first time her lips have touched his body, and this is where they go. She is a constant box of wonders, a fortune he can never predict. Her lips are much like he has fantasized they would be: wondrously soft and silky, stroking him like they have always meant to be there. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the urgency with which they burrow into his skin. As if she’s making a mental map of his bone structure. He never expected that she would want him this much.

His hands find her hips and grip the cotton of her shirt between his fingers. It is enough to tear her away from his flesh. Mission accomplished. His breath travels past her ear, hitting her neck. It is shallow and warm as he breathes her name. Her real name, the one her family calls her. She breathes his own back to him, like a bird responding to a mating call.

She feels his lips on her neck, wet and aching. It feels like God. This is the most blasphemous thought she has ever had. She throws her head back, exposing the whole of her skin to him. What is holiness, if not this moment?

He showers her in tattoo kisses, and she lets him, she lets him, she lets him. This is not just what she wants, but what she needs. No one will save her now, she knows this. So she has decided not to be saved.

Her shirt ripples as he clutches it. “May I?” He is breathy, awe-struck.

“Only if I can do the same.” Always about equality, his Scully is. He lifts his arms, lets her strip him first. He is fraught with the temptation to feel insecure, inadequate, but this is not about him--this is all for her. There is no time to dwell on this anyway. Scully takes in the sight, then puts her own arms up with a hint of impatience. He pulls her shirt over her head, and goosebumps adorn her as the air hits her bare stomach.

It is unimaginable, the significance of this moment. All Mulder can do is keep going, lest the emotion hit him and he find himself blubbering all over her. His hands travel her body...it is slender and white, but so solid, so strong. Cartilage forming ligaments forming joints connecting bones. And her skin, stretching over her hips and framing it all. The masterpiece that is Dana Katherine Scully.

He fears for the day she will cave in on herself. Already, one of his hands covers her whole rib cage. Right now he can cradle her body comfortably against his own, but the day will come when a single cautious touch will crush her, and his heart along with it. He wants her as she is now forever.

Seeing that he wants to pamper her, Scully lets herself be pampered. He showers the taut length of her collar bone in kisses. The vibration resonates throughout her bone structure, and already she can feel him in places she’s only fantasized about having him. He is going to heal me, she thinks. If anyone could heal her in any way, it would be him doing this.

She shows her gratitude by kneading circles into his soft tissues, so tense from all their days chasing ghosts. The sinew relaxes beneath the pads of her fingers, and she feels like she has solved the most important X-File of all.

Mulder traces his way along her spine. He has never touched her here, nor ever even fantasized about it, and there is an erotic tension--like a needle about to drop on a record--that neither one of them could have seen coming. Inevitably, his hands converge at the hooks of her bra. She arches her back in approval. He slides the hooks away from each other, and both of them feel the release. She shimmies off the garment before he can pull it out of the way. No secrets, not anymore.

Mulder didn’t expect to cry and is aware that most women wouldn’t take that as a positive sign, but seeing her, like this, knowing what they both know, tears feel like the least he could offer up. She is...beautiful is too weak a word to describe it. He needs to invent a new word to capture the essence of his emotions, the reverence with which he views her. He is not a religious man, but he will worship her until the end of time.

He has known this, intuitively, for a while, and now he’s putting it into practice. He wants to do everything he can for her, give her everything she wants. Yet he doesn’t know how to, and this scares him. She has always slipped through his fingers, always turned on a dime just when he thought he figured her out. Tonight is no exception. How was he to know that he’d be on his couch with a half-naked Scully in his lap?

He fears the tears will offend her, so he nuzzles into her heartspace, his nose pressed against the heart that is--by the grace of that God she worships--still beating. His lips meet the plush of her left breast.

Where does he go from here? The dusty routine he’s used with other women--the few who have given themselves to him or let him hand himself over--is not worthy enough for Scully. He could never touch Scully in the ways he’s touched the women before because she is not like the women before. There is no mere giving or taking here, no detached exchange of commodities or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. This is survival. They are symbiotically keeping each other alive.

A drop of water hits Scully’s skin, slides down the curvature of her breast. She shudders. A tear. That’s what it is, she realizes. Mulder is crying. It’s a baptism of unfortunate proportions.

She cups her hand against his chin, tilts it up so his bleary eyes meet hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She kisses each eye closed, his lids fluttering beneath her lips. “It’s okay.”

His breathing steadies. He is quite certain that it is not okay, that it never will be, but he listens to her, lets himself pretend.

Hands still on his chin, she careens their lips together. His mouth on hers; a godsend. They caress each other for a moment, then Scully opens wide, and Mulder does too. They are reflecting.

If Scully could compress herself, pushing every particle of air out of her lungs and into his, she would. As a sort of thank you, for everything. For what he has done, what is doing, what he will do...She will never have to live without him. She knows this now, and it makes this easier. But he will have to live without her, and so she must make sure he gets the memories he needs to carry on. This is how grief works, she’s acquainted with it. These moments, these feelings, these bated breaths and tender touches, will be his survival mechanism for awhile. Until the day when he can throw them off and go on without her ghost. It will happen one day, and she will be glad that he made it.

She feels him pressing against her stomach, which is certainly not where she wants him. “Fox…” Her hands hover above his belt. She unzips his fly first, her hand warm against him. He is dizzy with want as her fingers curl against his belt buckle, loosening it with confidence. In a sweeping gesture, she pushes his jeans off his hips, exposing him. The thrill she feels, seeing him big and bare in front of her, is a new kind of livelihood. She’s overcome with the desire to take him in her mouth--and that has never, never been her first instinct. She ducks down, but he stops her.

“Dana, no. You.”

She doesn’t need to hear it twice. She sucks in a breath, arches her back, and slides onto him. Slowly, gasping as they go.

“Am I hurting you?”

Scully shakes her head, lips parted. It has been nothing like this before...nothing so fulfilling. She crosses her ankles, binding them completely together at last.

Unity triumphs against the self, their union abolishing the world’s insistence on the solitude of the individual. This is what it’s about, isn’t it? Being joined, not only in spirit, but in body? Knowing that whatever horrors are to come, he will feel them as she does. Her dwindling will be his too, her losses an equally empty space within him.

She is teetering on the edge of something she can never come back from. She is not afraid.

She careens her fingernails into his back as the pressure builds. If it doesn’t come to a head, she’ll die right here, she thinks.

She barely registers the cathartic noises coming out of her, though they give Mulder great delight. He thought she would be quiet, and the fact that she’s not trying to hold anything in--after holding everything in for so goddamn long--is the most moving part of the experience.

And they want this to go on forever, but they want the release. Mulder swivels his hips into her, bringing them both closer to climax. Scully curls against him.

“I’m sorry,” she cries into his ear.

“What?” He nearly pulls out of her, fearing that she’s hurt.

“No, no--” She scrambles to stay with him. “This--” she pants “--is so good.” She lowers her lips onto his as confirmation, then speaks into his open mouth. “I’m just sorry to be the one to go.”

He frames her ribcage, thumbs arching toward her belly button. “Fuck, honey...don’t say that, don’t even think that…”

They won’t linger on the choice of pet name, the tenderness with which it settles over her, nor the absolute devastation of her words. There is simply no time.

Scully hides her face in his neck as the wave breaks over both of them. There is no world anymore, only the two of them on this couch. They have forsaken the physical realm, ascending to heaven in time with their heartbeats.

Mulder understands then what his reciprocal means when she says she needs proof to believe. Now that he’s been there and felt it, he knows that heaven exists, and holy shit, what does that mean for the life he has lived and the time he has left? What did it mean for Samantha?...What will it mean for Scully?

They collapse into each other, a melted mass of skin and bone. Two becoming one, becoming two again. Mulder strokes the back of his partner’s head, presses his lips to her temple. Her chest rises against him in jagged breaths.

“You are the only proof I’ll ever need that this life is worth it,�� he murmurs. “Just you.”

Scully looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks. He kisses them away and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know if you got the memo, but I love you, Dana Scully.”

She rests her cheek against his. “I love you too, F--Mulder.”

Mulder chuckles, his amusement shaking both of them. Scully closes her eyes and snuggles into him. He puts his hand over her heart, feels it beating steadily into his palm, and longs for it to stay like that forever.

#i have been working on that last scene since uhhh...october #i apologize for any emotional distress this and the following chapters will cause lmao #probably only two or three chapters left!!!#thank you for reading <3 #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #txf #txf fic #the x-files #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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definitelynotkatesblog · 4 years

Text

6 PM ∣ Spencer Reid Fic

Summary: Spencer has very eagerly awaited your return home and he did not like to be kept waiting.

A/N: This entire fic literally came to me as I was writing 6 AM. I was thinking of titles in the back of my mind, and at one point was trying to describe Spencer’s behavior as night and day then BOOM- 6 PM was born. Anyways, enjoy some smut, ya filthy animals.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fingering, Oral sex (female receiving), Mild exhibitionism (phone), cursing

WC: 2.1k

Coming home to Spencer was objectively the best part of my day. The annoyances and the stress all melted away as soon as my key turned the lock, knowing he was on the other side of the door.

I twisted my key in the door and was surprised when it opened before I could even fully twist the knob. I looked up to see my handsome man standing in the doorway with a hungry look in his hooded eyes.

I grinned and stepped inside, expecting to be welcomed home with kisses and a ‘How was your day?’. What I was welcomed with was far from it.

Spencer’s hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door quickly behind me before flattening my back against it, caging me with his body.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he breathed. His knuckles slowly brushed the side of my face.

Once my brain caught up to my body, my eyes searched his and found a dark hunger that made my heartbeat pound in the junction of my thighs.

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he said. His tone was playful, but paired with the look in his eyes I knew better than to think he was joking. That didn’t stop me from plastering a wicked grin on my face, though. “In that case, I’m really sorry.”

My hands snaked around his waist, forming fists in the material of his shirt, pulling it taut around his torso.

Our lips crashed together, his impatient avidity heating the space between us. I teased him with a quick sweep of my tongue across his bottom lip before pulling my head back when he leaned forward. I smiled against his lips, but was quickly made aware of the severity of my mistake.

One hand skated up and over my chest, resting on my collarbone while the other flexed around my hip. He raked my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down harder as the plump skin dragged between them. A whimper escaped my throat, the mix of pain and pleasure creating a pool of heat low in my belly.

He rolled his hips forward slightly, alerting me to the presence of the bulge growing in his pants.

A hungry moan left my lips and spilled into his mouth, fueling the fire burning between us. His hands flew to my hair, lacing his fingers through and grabbing a fistful in one while the other pulled me impossibly closer by the nape of my neck.

The shrill cry of his phone ringing cut through the electric charge in the air, ruining a perfectly good moment. He pulled away from me, leaving me breathless as he casually walked away to answer. I swiped my thumb across my bruised lip and inspected it for blood before trying to read his body language from across the room to determine if he’d be swept away for a case or not.

I huffed and smoothed my dress, making my way over to him. He paced around the living room, his eyes darting left and right, processing and figuring. He looked so cute when he was concentrating. What a shame it would be if someone were to… distract him.

I plopped down on the couch and bent over to start unbuckling the strap around my ankle. Spencer waving caught my attention from my peripheral. He covered the bottom half for a second and tilted the phone away from him for a moment. “Leave them on,” he whispered.

Oh?

A wicked grin spread across my lips as he rambled on about some gory happenings in a city a few towns over. I sauntered over and stood in front of him, sure to make heavy enough eye contact for him to furrow his brow before I dropped to my knees.

He shot me a warning look that I promptly ignored, running my hands up his legs to the front of his thighs. I palmed him through the fabric of his pants, looking up through my lashes to see his jaw clenched and his fist coming up to cover his mouth, biting a knuckle.

My hand wandered, pawing coyly until I felt him harden under my touch.

“Yeah, mhm. Okay-”

I began unbuttoning his pants, humming to myself as his hand came down and closed around my wrist. He looked genuinely shocked at my behavior. Served him right for earlier.

Unphased, I used my other hand to pick up where the other left off.

“Alright, thanks.” He tapped the screen and looked down at me, his eyebrows raised.

I smiled sweetly and stood up, dusting off my knees.

“You almost made me hang up on my boss!”

“Hmm, Emily would have understood.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips and patted him through his pants.

I turned to walk towards the kitchen, leaving him standing there with a half-hard cock and his jaw on the ground.

“How does Chinese sound for dinner?” I asked, digging through a drawer of miscellaneousness to find the glossy pamphlet.

“Sounds good. Will you call and order?” he called from the bedroom.

I nodded to myself, leaning over the counter to flip through the menu to decide. This place had quickly become our go-to take out spot; a quaint family-run hole in the wall with decent pricing and portion sizes.

“I don’t know why you flip through it if you’re going to get the same thing every time,” he laughed from behind me. “Because!” I countered, the one word being my only rebuttal. He wasn’t wrong.

His hands slid around my hips, while he rubbed his hips against my backside. I smiled to myself at his bulge having not yet resolved itself.

I dialed the number we both- well, I, knew by heart and held the phone to my ear, lazily swaying my hips from my bent over position. His fingers flexed around my hips, forming a grip.

A bored sounding voice answered the phone. “Thank you for calling CC’s Chinese Cuisine. Can you hold?”

“Yeah, I can hold.”

I stood and spun around, throwing one arm over his shoulder while the other held the phone to my ear. I toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging it a little with a wink. His eyes raked over my face, dark and hooded like they were when I first got home.

His hands on my hips quickly spun me back around, one hand flying to the space between my shoulder blades to bend me over again.

The change of pace made my head spin for a moment and my cheeks flush. His hands quickly made their way to the hem of my dress, lifting it to the small of my back. A small giggle escaped my lips at his brashness. I turned around expecting to see a playful look on his face, but found his jaw clenched, watching me intently instead. One hand moved to gather the fabric of my dress while the other skated along the skin of my belly at the waistline of my underwear. My breath hitched as his fingers made their way past the barrier.

“Thank you for holding. How can I help you?” Somehow the voice on the phone sounded even more bored than before.

“Wh- Um, yes I’d like to place an order for delivery, please.”

My free hand on the counter moved to stop the southbound motion of his hand. His hand deftly avoided mine, instead grabbing my hand and placing it firmly on the counter again.

His hand returned, this time landing directly on its mark, slipping a finger between my folds.

“Sp-”

He shushed me and rolled his hips, pressing his hardness into my backside again.

“Go ahead.”

Spencer’s finger worked in quick circles, swirling around my clit then pushing into me, joined by another digit moments later. His thrusts were slow at first, coaxing my wetness to slide down his fingers. His hand remained on the small of my back, keeping me compromised and at his mercy.

“Can I please have an orange chicken w-with lo mein noodles-” I brought the phone away from my mouth, silencing a moan. “A-and a beef and broccoli with veggie fried r-rice.”

“Okay,” the voice droned.

The irony was not lost on me that the lack of enthusiasm on the other end of the phone was being met and exceeded by the red, hot coil winding in my core.

“Don’t forget the rangoons,” he whispered from behind me.

Son of a bitch, I wanted to be off of this god damned phone call already.

“I’d like to add an order of crab rangoons to that as well, please.” I squeaked out.

“Let me check if we have anymore. Can you hold?”

“Mmmm, so wet.” Spencer said, only loud enough for me to hear. My hand flew to my mouth to cover the gasp threatening to escape.

His fingers switched their tempo, now curving just so before diving deeper with each thrust.

“YES. Yes. Uh huh, I’ll hold.” As soon as I heard the phone be put down and the voice shouting in the background, I slammed my fist against the counter and let out the frustrated moan I’d been trying to suppress.

“Fucking hell, Spencer! What are you-”

He didn’t answer, instead removing his hand and dropping to his knees, pulling my underwear down with him. With my heels still on, he was at perfect eye level with the mess he was making.

He hummed from behind me, dragging a single finger through the wetness threatening to drip down my thighs.

I swallowed the pant crawling up my throat as the voice came back on the phone.

“Okay we have them. Is that all?”

Spencer’s hands found their way to the tops of my thighs, forcing them apart before laying a long lick between my folds, damn near knocking me off my feet. I felt my legs start to shake as his laps got quicker, the sounds of his moans into me enough to make me cry.

“Yep, mhm, that’s all” I squeaked, biting my finger between my teeth to contain the scream building in my throat. His fingers crept their way up to my clit again, slipping to form quick circles as his mouth and tongue continued to work.

“Okay, that’ll be, uh-” the voice hesitated, and I could faintly hear keys clacking on the other end. At this point I wasn’t sure what was going to come first, me or the total.

God, I could fucking scream.

“$23.50.” the voice said. “Give it 30 minutes or so.”

“Okaythanksbye” I rushed, smashing the end button and pulling the phone away from my face. At this point, I couldn’t be bothered to be polite.

Spencer’s mouth continued relentlessly- sucking and thrusting while his fingers formed a V and slid on either side of my clit, gently squeezing and drawing downward slightly. Stars started to cloud my vision as a guttural moan left my chest, finally able to escape my body.

My head fell to the side, my cheek pressed up against the cool counter top- the hot and cold offering a new sense of stimulation to my poor body.

“Oh, god.”

He moaned against me as my walls spasmed around his fingers, my orgasm racking through my body like glass shattering, creating a mosaic of pleasure. The white hot fire coursing through my veins illuminated me from within like a stained glass masterpiece at a chapel. Spencer was on his knees worshipping me, devouring me like the blood and body of Christ himself on a holy Sunday. His name left my mouth like a prayer as I begged him for mercy and repented for my sins.

My body fell limp on the countertop, my chest heaving as broken breaths shuddered from my lungs. Spencer’s fingers slowed and his lips pressed soft kisses against my cheeks as I put my pieces back together again. He chuckled from his position on his knees and dragged one last finger through my wetness before popping it into his mouth and sucking it clean.

The sight alone made me knees weak and reignited the flame in my belly. My attempt to stand was thwarted by my legs going into full Bambi mode, struggling to balance in my heels. Spencer stood and grabbed my hips, offering his support while stifling a laugh. I shot him the dirtiest look I could manage in my fragile state.

“He probably knew what was happening!” I whined.

“Yeah, I don’t think he would mind,” he said on a wink.

“You know,” he said casually, “We still have about 27 minutes.”

***

Let’s chat!

#Spencer reid #criminal minds #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x fem! reader #Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid fan fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #smut #my writing

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rekrappeter · 4 years

Text

Room for One || s.r

pairing: Spencer Reid x SSA!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angsty | post!prison reid | lmk if i forget anything

summary: your decisions affected your friendship with spencer but you never realised how serious it was until now

a/n: another spencer reid fic but y’know i can’t help it and i’m thirsty af for him. any requests, send them my way ♡ ♡

masterlist ||

“And that leaves Y/L/N and Reid,” Your unit chief instructed, handing the two of you a key each for the same room. Smiling up at the doctor that stood beside you, you wished that he tried his best to hide his annoyance at being paired with you. Spencer stalked away towards the elevator, Emily’s eyes following his figure. “Don’t worry about him, he’s just exhausted.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” You exhaled, picking up your duffel bag from the floor and walked with the brunette to catch up with the rest of the team. “He’s still pissed at me for not visiting him.”

“Well, tonight is the night to sort out your differences.” Looking at Emily, your eyes narrowed at the smirk on her face.

“You sly-” She shushed you, just in time to enter the elevator with the other members of your team. The case that you’re currently working on is a tiring one, it’s been four days since you landed in Atlanta and there hasn’t been in any progress to determining a suspect; it was Rossi’s idea to turn in for the night, to start fresh in the morning and hopefully close the case. You didn’t leave the precinct until two in the morning, hence the exhausted bodies leaning against the wall of the enclosed space.

After bidding sweet dreams to the team, you followed Spencer into your allocated room. You were surprised he held the door open for you, you were used to getting the cold shoulder from him since you’ve returned from time off. Spencer has always been passive-aggressive, he was a kind man but when he was wronged by you in some way, you’d know that it affected him and the way he was around you.

You knew what you did to him was unforgivable. He was one of your closest friends in the BAU and when he was locked up in prison, you refused to go see him, despite him begging the team to ask you to come in. You couldn’t bear to see him in pain, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. No matter how many times you were sitting in your car outside the prison.

“Which one do you want, Spence?” You asked, you kept your voice low and you feared that he’d reject your question, again.

“I’ll take the one by the door,” Spencer replied, he avoided looking at you as usual. You got used to his behavior, he would find something more interesting to avert his gaze to whenever you walked into the room or spoke around the round table. You wished it wasn’t just you that he felt like this with but it was, he was back to normal with everyone else.

Sharing a room with Spencer was not new in the long run. Back when you first joined the BAU, he was the one you volunteered to stay with because you kept comfortable with him and you enjoyed the late-night conversations that you shared. Thinking back on conversations, you couldn’t believe some things that you disclosed to him but it was the late-night delirium that would set in. He was never judgemental, and he always listened, something you were grateful for.

“Do you want the shower first?” You questioned again, cringing when Spencer exhaled a little too loudly for your liking. He was annoyed but these were questions that you had to ask.

“No, you go ahead.” He mumbled, brushing his long hair out of his face. Lifting your bag on your bed, you took out your necessities. Why would Emily even want to put you and Reid in a room together? The atmosphere was tense, you were afraid to breathe in case he turned around to lecture you about breathing too loud or uneven. Or maybe you would rather he actually gave you time of day and talk to you.

You tiptoed around him and made your way to the bathroom, locking the door behind you and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. When you returned, you were surprised to see the lights were switched off and Spencer was already asleep in his own bed. It was hard to make out the route to your bed, and you grimaced when you banged your toe into the chair you didn’t know was there. You let out a string of profanities, biting down on your hand to suppress the pain.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to sleep.” Spencer mumbled, twisting in his bed.

“I-I’m sorry…” You whispered back, not in any mood to argue with him. You quietly made the way to your single bed, falling under the covers in a split second but you couldn’t sleep. Not with Spencer in the bed less than two meters away from you. The room was eerily quiet, barely being interrupted with deeps breaths and the darkness was black around you until you heard Spencer move, and his bedside lamp switched on suddenly.

“Why didn’t you come to see me?” Reid asked, laying on his back with his arm tucked behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, knowing that you were looking at him over the locker that separated your beds. You were laying on your side, eyes boring into his temple.

“You want to talk about this now?” You whispered back, feeling your chest getting heavy.

Spencer sighed, shaking his head. “Not really, but Emily told me that I had to become civil with you.” You sucked in your bottom lip; guilt, and rejection washing over your body. Your eyes studied his face from the side, he was exhausted and the black circles beneath his dreamy orbs were more evident than before. The stubble he grew out made him look serious and intimidating, but you knew deep down, he was still somewhat the sweet Spencer you used to know. Just more confident, which wasn’t a bad thing.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say,” You spoke after hesitating, you had tried to explain yourself to Spencer before but no excuse was good enough.

“I just want the truth.” Spencer sighed, any hint of anger or annoyance vanished from his voice as he sat upon the edge of his bed, his eyes finally landing on your face. His elbows rested on his knees and he leaned forward slightly, waiting for you to answer. You lifted yourself on the bed, keeping your body hidden with the covers and you leaned your back up against the headboard.

“The truth?” You swallowed, and he nodded not saying anything. His jaw was tense, his eyes hollow but they were gentle. “I couldn’t bring myself to go see you knowing there was nothing I could do to get you out of there.”

“That’s it?” Spencer asked, rolling his eyes. “I was dying in there and every team member came and went, except you. What made you so different? What made it so difficult for you to come see me?” His tone was fierce and you wanted to hide underneath your duvet.

“I don’t know, Spencer! I didn’t want to have a permanent memory of you in prison imprinted in my mind, you were hurting and you didn’t deserve to be in there. I was angry and upset-”

“I was in prison!” Spencer erupted, standing from the bed. His covers dropped from his body, he wore a plain white t-shirt and plaid trousers. “You were angry? You were upset? What about me? I thought you cared about me, I thought we were friends and then when Emily told me you refused to come see me without any explanation, how do you think that affected me? I spent weeks in there thinking that you didn’t care about me, that-that the person I loved didn’t care about me.” His shoulders slouched, his breathing heavy as he got everything he needed to off his chest. He leaned against the wooden desk that was in the room, and your eyes looked up at him instantly.

“Loved?” You whispered, climbing down the bed and standing in front of him.

“Loved.” He repeated, his teeth clenched. “As in past tense.”

“Spencer, I did care about you, I still do. I care about you so much,” You reached for his face but leaned away from your touch causing your heart to clench. “I couldn’t come see you because I loved you too, and I still do love you, Spence. It hurt too much thinking off you being trapped in there-”

Before you could continue, Spencer grabbed your wrist and pushed you away gently. “I said I loved you, Y/N. The months spent thinking you didn’t care about me changed those feelings, I don’t love you anymore.” His words were like knives that were aimed straight at your chest, your heart being torn in two. The worst thing was he spoke every word while staring you in the eye without flinching. He stepped away from you, grabbing his overnight bag, and before you could say anything, he walked out of the room.

He left you, just as you left him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x ssa reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #post prison reid #reid #reid x reader #reid imagine #writing #criminal minds writing

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- And now, I shall make it complicated)

Masterlist

Warnings- Jealousy

Chapter 2 All In a Long Weekend

Saturday

That Saturday morning, breakfast had been done a tad earlier than usual, and afterwards, Emma had stayed back in the kitchen, packing a picnic while Keanu oversaw the children as they got ready for the day's beach trip. Matt and Poppy had been raving about their trip to Malibu for the past two weeks, asking every night before bed if they'd still be going. Each time, Emma had assured them that unless it rained, they were certainly going.

"You look excited," an older woman came up beside Emma, setting down some sodas into the cooler, just as Emma continued preparing sandwiches for the container that was set to be packed into the woven basket. She and Zelda, despite the fifteen or so years between them had become fast friends, always eager to help each other out when possible. The older woman was also sometimes keen of giving Emma little snippets of advice that she thought my be helpful; never go into Keanu's office when he had the door shut, don't give the kids ice pops inside and possibly the one that had saved her the most trouble, always check the allergy list that Keanu had stuck to the fridge before making the kids something new.

Beaming absently at her comment, Emma carried on with her task, making cheese and turkey sandwiches; a favorite among Keanu and his kids, "I am, it's been a while since I've been to the beach, and even if I'm still working, it's gonna be fun." Closing up the Tupperware, Emma set it in the basket, moving on to prepping snacks, just as Zelda started on some frozen treats for the sizable cooler. In retrospect, it might have seemed like a lot, but when you were having a day trip with kids, it was best to prepare for anything. "Plus, it'll be nice to spend some time together, just the four of us."

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Zelda paused for a minute, "Five dear," she corrected, a little shocked when Emma didn't understand what she meant.

Certainly, Keanu must have told her!

But really, he hadn't.

Just as Zelda was about to explain though, the sound of the front door opening and shutting, followed by a very loud, and an annoyingly exuberant; "Darling!" After that, it wasn't long before the sound of heels clicking against the floor drew nearer, and out of the long hallway emerged a woman, tall, blonde and just as famous as Keanu.

"Sweet-" Upon seeing the pair, the Miranda Riley, former Victoria Secret model and world famous actress, stopped in her tracks, scrunching her perfectly straight nose as if she'd smelt something terrible, "Oh," her made up face fell, "Its you; Zora and…….the new one."

A little annoyed by her obviously snooty behavior, Emma opened her mouth to speak up, "Actually it's-" Though, when Zelda grabbed her arm, squeezing warningly, she shut up immediately, sealing her lips tightly.

Though, it didn't really seem like any of it greatly affected Miranda, especially when Keanu jogged into the room from the other hall, still bare foot while his worn out t-shirt was soaked at the front, probably from herding the twins into a bath. "Mandy," he grinned, and Emma swore it was stiff and forced. Maybe it was just her imagination though, cause with barely any hesitation, Keanu was taking the woman in his arms, holding her in a more than friendly hug before planting a lengthy kiss on her deep, ruby lips, one of his hands reaching up to cup her face.

The world seemed to slow down as the entire scene unfolded before her; the way he held her, looked at her when they pulled away to speak. A soft, pained gasp seeped past her lips and Emma wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when Miranda walked into the house, but she did know that the last thing she’d predicted was that it would hurt so much. Her lungs were set ablaze and a similar sensation prickled at her eyes. Rage, betrayal, jealousy, Emma couldn’t tell which it was, but she did know that she wanted to run out of the room and not have to face Keanu for the rest of the day. Hell, maybe even the rest of the month.

Slowly, as if she were just coming up from being submerged in an ice cold bath, Emma brought herself back to the moment, raising her gaze when Keanu sought to introduce them, “Mandy, you remember I told you about Emma, our new nanny.” That was what she was, the nanny; the woman who took care of his kids, nothing more. Even if quieter moments had suggested otherwise. The tension, the long stares and innocent touches that thrilled her nerves, they meant nothing to Keanu. “And Em, this is my girlfriend, Mandy.” Well that didn’t feel like a bullet to the chest at all.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the smile that she plastered on her face was probably the hardest one she’d ever managed, and when Emma offered her hand, it wasn’t difficult to miss the flash of disgust that crossed Miranda’s pale features. Never meet your heroes, they said. For as long as Emma had known herself, Miranda had been an icon in the fashion world, she was well connected, and had set most of the trends that Emma had her friends had desperately wanted to mimic in their teens. It was her, among other inspiring names in the fashion world that had prompted Emma to go to a design institute and not a conventional college. But right then, she might have been happier going back to a time where she’d never crossed paths with Miranda.

Hesitating before offering Emma a toothy, winning grin, Miranda took her hand, shaking quickly over the counter before letting it go again, “Mmm, yes, it's…….nice to meet you too, Emily.”

“Emma,” she corrected, having to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t say anything more. The last thing she’d want was to lose her job after telling off her boss’s out of touch bitch of a girlfriend.

“Right,” Miranda appraised her look, a bright blue sundress, raising an impressed brow, probably only complimenting her to appease Keanu, “Cute dress.”

Before Emma could speak up, Keanu interjected, “She looks lovely doesn’t she? Made it herself,” he didn’t seem remotely aware of the heaviness in the room, or the way Miranda clenched her jaw when another slew of praises for Emma left his lips, “She’s so talented, Poppy is already roping her into making princess dresses for Halloween,” he chuckled, shaking in his head.

After another minute spent gritting her teeth, Miranda sought to change the topic, clearly having had her fill of Keanu’s pride in his nanny, “Where are the little ones anyway? It's nearly ten, we’re going to be late.”

With that, Emma’s head snapped towards Zelda, who'd opted to finish the cooler and snacks in silence, so she wouldn’t have to endure any of the painstaking conversation, “She’s going?” She whispered when Keanu and Miranda weren’t looking, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Yeah,” she nodded, barely looking as Emma when she followed her to the fridge, while Keanu and Miranda spoke, or rather, canoodled in hushed tones, "I feel like I should have told you he has a girlfriend," Zelda paused, just after reaching for a half filled carton of strawberries.

"Ya think?" Emma hissed, glancing backwards at the couple, feeling her heart pinch at how lovey dovey they were. She could have sworn there was something between herself and Keanu. "How hard was it to say 'Hey Em, you know our boss has this girlfriend, and she's like, a total bitch.' What the hell does he even see in her anyway?"

"She's tall and gorgeous?" Zelda shrugged casually, "Look, I don't get it either, but he loves her, they've been together for almost two years and I think she's convinced him to go public by the end of this year." Her face fell at Emma's troubled expression, reaching out to rub her shoulder sympathetically, "I see the way you look at him, and if there's something between you two, then……and I don't mean this harshly at all, maybe you need to back down. Miranda, she's……she's not someone you want to mess with," sighing deeply, Zelda peered over to see if they were being overheard, "She gets what she wants, and right now, she wants Keanu and you don't want to be in her way."

Gritting her teeth, Emma pulled away harshly, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," she squared her shoulders, "There's nothing between Keanu and I," maybe she was getting more defensive than she needed to be, but Emma didn't care. "I'm gonna go finish getting the twins ready," she announced loudly, stalking out of the room and down the hall, and hopefully, leaving behind whatever she'd started to feel for her boss.

As it turned out, Matt and Poppy had all but put their clothes on over their swimsuits, and they were so excited about going, that they got into their little summery outfits without fuss. Afterwards, tiny feet clad in colorful sandals, they raced each other downstairs, leaving Emma to collect their bags before she headed down.

She was walking towards the stairs, backpacks in hands, really just minding her own business, having just started to calm down after the whole Keanu/Miranda fiasco, when, just as she neared the door of Keanu's home office, she heard it. He was deep in conversation, and had unknowingly left the door just a sliver open, enough for her to catch on to some juicy bits. "I know mom," he sounded exasperated, and when she dared to peek in, Emma found that his back was to her, as he stood facing the window, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, "But I'm not getting any younger, what do you want me to do? Wait till I'm sixty?" He sighed heavily, shaking his head, "Matt and Poppy need a mother, and Miranda……" he trailed off, listening intently to what his mother had to say. Leaning closer, Emma wished she could be privy to the other end of the call, aching to hear what his mother thought about the succubus that he called a girlfriend. But alas, she'd have to settle for whatever she got.

After a few minutes had passed, Keanu spoke again, turning around, leaving Emma to dash for cover, though still within earshot. For a minute, she held her breath, awaiting the moment where Keanu would poke his head out the door and catch her eavesdropping. But it never came, and instead, he continued, "I think I'm going to do it tomorrow night, we're going to dinner, and the nanny will watch the kids. I have the ring already. I think she might like it."

Ring?

The sirens in Emma's head were going off so loudly that she barely registered his tone, the absence of excitement or joy, things that were usually there when someone was smitten enough to propose. There was too much going on in her head; the irrational fear of never having a chance with Keanu, the more rational fear that Miranda might become her boss too. Tuning out the rest of the conversation, not caring to hear anymore, Emma dragged herself towards the stairs, slinking down towards the kitchen, where she found Zelda entertaining the children.

“Everything okay?” She probed when Emma placed the bags on the counter, next to the cooler and picnic basket, her features still crestfallen.

“Yeah,” she mustered up a smile, inching closer to her friend, her voice dropping an octave, “I think Keanu’s going to propose to Miranda, like tomorrow night.”

“What?” Zelda’s eyes went wide, her jaw hanging slack, and she almost dropped the dishes she had just started putting into the cupboards, “How do you know that, did he tell you?”

“Tell her what?” Speak of the devil. Miranda startled them both, and for a second, Emma was worried that she’d overheard their conversation, though that too was short lived.

“Everyone ready?” Keanu strode into the room, and though Emma wanted to meet his gaze, she restrained herself, not even trying to respond, just going over to gather some of their things, her teary smile faltering when the kids excitedly started following her to the car.

At some point, Miranda had eased Keanu away from where they’d set up their picnic on the beach, urging him into a walk even though the kids had pleaded with him to stay and help them build sandcastles. Emma had taken his place, helping them with their little construction project, highly aware of how upset Poppy still was. “You okay Pop?”

The girl frowned, using her fragile fingers to sweep some hair out of her face, “I wish daddy would have stayed and built it with us,” she mumbled, dumping another bucket of sand to create segment of the castle, though doing it so harshly that the new section just crumbled, “He always leaves when aunt Mandy comes around.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” even if she didn’t like Miranda, if she was going to be Matt and Poppy��s step mother, Emma couldn’t go around bad mouthing her to them, “I’m sure he still spends time with you. And aunt Miranda seems really like you two.”

“Not as much as you,” that was Matt, his expression skewed by his dark mane falling over his face, “She’s always telling us to be quiet. And she’s so boring,” he stressed, lurching forward, only half interested in ranting about Miranda, still very invested in their sandcastle, “She almost made dad stop my swimming lessons.”

“What?” That time, it was a struggle to keep her annoyance at bay. Even if it was just one side, even if Matt couldn’t possibly know the entire truth, it was still enough to rile Emma up. How dare she? Matt was the best on his team! Taking a breath, Emma knew it was time to shift the conversation, and cheer the twins up before she said something that she’d regret, “You know what? Why don’t we give this a break? We can go to the water, have a splash war!”

“Yeah!” They jumped up immediately, barely giving Emma a minute to shimmy out of her sundress, revealing her simple, floral bikini before joining them in the water. It didn’t take long to lift their spirits, and before long, Matt and Poppy were teaming up to out splash Emma. Their gleeful giggles were music to her ears and she adored seeing their wide grins. They’d waited almost a month for that trip, they deserved to enjoy as much as they could, even if Miranda was going to take up most of Keanu’s time.

They probably spent hours past noon in the water, and not once did anyone’s smile falter. Emma gave them ice pops, and insisted that they have some water once or twice, though each time, they accepted without fuss, and she couldn’t tell if was the sugar from their snacks, or just how immersed they were in the games, but even when Keanu and Miranda returned near sunset, they didn’t show signs of tire.

“You guys having all the fun without me?” Keanu let go of Miranda’s hand, standing where the water would wash over his feet, pulling the sand back as it receded.

A pang of anger flared inside of her, making Emma want to remind Keanu that he was the one that left, but she suppressed it. A fight wouldn’t solve anything. She was so caught up in being annoyed with Keanu, that she hadn't noticed how dark his gaze had grown when his eyes fell on her, kneeling in the water, rivulets rolling off her tan skin, the top of her bathing suit pressing her breasts together, a generous amount of her cleavage spilling out voluptuously. “Well why don’t you join in?” She made herself laugh, and while Emma was hardly as much of an actor as the two A listers before her, she’d liked to think she managed pretty well.

“Sounds great,” he didn’t even seem to notice Emma’s irritation, bubbling beneath the surface. In a flash, he was pulling off his t-shirt, tossing it to the sand, getting into water wearing just his swim trunks, and as he drew closer, his cheerful tone faltered, probably realizing that being in the water with her wasn’t going to do him any favors, “Do you guys wanna play chicken fight?” Keanu turned to his kids, only to be met with excited nods, “And maybe Mandy wants to play too?” He turned to her, eyes somewhat hopeful, “And we can let Em have a break,” swallowing thickly.

“Oh, I…..” Miranda seemed perfectly out of her element, smoothing a hand over her stylish, white sundress, and then pushing up the dark tinted sunglasses, which formerly guarded crystal green orbs. It took a minute, but eventually, she conjured up a tight grin, “Chicken fight isn’t really my kind of game,” she laughed nonchalantly, “Besides, the water will ruin my hair. You should let Emily play, childish nonsense seems right up her alley.”

Subduing the urge to roll her eyes and fire a few obscenities towards Miranda, Emma took a breath, gazing between Keanu, who’d gone cold, and Miranda who’s wicked mirth was reflected in her defiant smile, “Like I said this morning, it’s just Emma. And that’s fine, I actually love childish nonsense, its way more fun than sitting on the sand like a……” stuck up bitch, “Boring grown up.”

Amused with her half hearted insult, Matt laughed loudly, while Poppy just giggled, already trying to get up on Emma’s shoulders. Fuming, Miranda turned on her heel, stomping off towards the mat, and it wasn’t long before the rest of them had forgotten the almost-spat, getting on with their game.

Monday

As usual, Emma was up early, preparing breakfast for everyone. It was just past seven am, and since Mondays didn’t promise cartoon reruns, the kids weren’t up yet. Instead, Zelda had come in earlier than usual, saying that she wanted to get a head start on the housework, but really just looking to gossip. They were in the kitchen together, preparing for hash browns, eggs and bacon, working over quiet chatter, “So…” Zelda nudged Emma’s shoulder with her own.

“So?” Emma chuckled, nudging her back, the comfy cotton of her robe brushing against the sleeve of Zelda’s shirt. She knew exactly what her friend was seeking, but truthfully, she didn’t know how Keanu’s proposal had gone. All she knew was that they’d left for dinner around seven, leaving her to make something for Matt and Poppy, and hadn’t returned until the twins had fallen asleep and Emma had stolen away to her room.

“So, is the wicked witch of the west coast going to be out new boss or not?” Zelda teased, continuing with helping Emma shred some potatoes.

“Honestly-” Emma cut herself off when Keanu walked in, sans shirt and with low riding sweat pants. His hair was a mess, and his good morning was punctuated by a tired yawn. "Good morning Keanu," both women greeted in unison, sharing a look.

They both wanted to know so badly that the itch was almost physical, but it wasn't like they could simply ask. With their one question would come a dozen more from Keanu. Though, as faith would have it, the truth they were seeking wasn't far behind a still half asleep Mr. Reeves.

"Darling," an all too familiar voice purred, shuffling into the kitchen, her blonde hair held up in a loose ponytail and her elegant frame wrapped up in fine satin. Unlike Keanu, Miranda didn't even bother with pleasantries, going straight over to where he stood at the integrated refrigerator, holding him in a hug from behind, strategically angling her left hand so the large rock on her finger would be on full display.

"Still wanna know?" Emma whispered near Zelda's ear, their heads almost touching.

Scoffing, Zelda seemed caught between a sarcastic smirk and a frown, "Not any more."

And because the world was such a cruel place and open wounds would be pointless without a little salt, Miranda abruptly turned to them. "Ladies! Have you two seen my ring?" Without warning she thrust her hand towards them, making the engagement ring on her finger hard to avoid, "Gorgeous right? Keke loves to spoil me," her words were perfectly gag worthy and Emma was finding it difficult to keep down the half cup of coffee she'd had. It wasn't like she was opposed to love or affection or anything, she'd really liked to think of herself as well adjusted in that way, but during the one weekend she'd spent around Miranda, her affections for Keanu always seemed so dramatic that it was nothing short of an elaborate farce.

Yet, it wasn't like she had much of a choice when it came to going forward and having to endure it. Jobs in the fashion world were hard to come by and freelancing would hardly be enough to cover living expenses. So, alas, she'd have to put up with Miranda for a quite while to come. "Don't worry Emily," Emma hadn't even realized she'd zoned out until Miranda called her by the wrong name, for probably the dozenth time. At her next words, Miranda's voice dropped below what Keanu could hear, and there was a wicked glimmer in her gaze, "You're pretty enough, I'm sure you can trick a man into buying you a nice ring. Might not be as many carats, but you'll manage."

That little quip was definitely pay back for Saturday. Fuming, Emma longed to just let her have it, but she was growing so versed in holding her tongue that she did again, deciding right then and there that as much as she loved the kids, she was wholly willing to take the next sustaining job as long as Miranda was in the picture.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x ofc #keanu reeves fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #nanny au #au #ff #chapter 2

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whump-town · 4 years

Text

Spare the Rod, Spoil the Child

Warnings for torture, violence, puking, blood, and lots of heart-wrenching whump

Hotch is kidnapped.

(and just so you don’t have to keep refreshing your feed: @ishouldvebeenawelder)

It’s been… at least three days. He’s been given four meals and he thinks, or rather he’s assuming, that averaged one a day. Not that his stomach can handle the stale bread sandwiches thrown at him each time the door opens. He’d thrown up the first one. Stomach cramping painfully around the meager dry bun with a single slice of turkey.

A man-- lumbering and booming with each step-- had come in after he’d cleared his stomach of its contents. The man had kicked and hit until Hotch felt certain each and every bone in his body had cracked or broken. As the man walked away, his angered speech slurred by the heavy scent of alcohol, Hotch had laughed.

It wasn’t loud enough to draw any sort of attention his way. It had been a wheezing sound-- easily passible as labored breathing. But he’d laughed for so long and so hard his entire body hurt. It hurt worse. The irony was going to kill him. He’s not sure if it’s just his luck or what but only he would be kidnapped by an unsub who tortures his victims. The humor, of course, is that Hotch has only had one round. One round of the torture.

What do a couple of kicks and a punch or two compare to his childhood? To ducking blows from the man who’s supposed to teach you how to ride a bike?

Nothing. It doesn’t compare at all.

This might just be luck.

If he were able to remember. He knows the important things.

My name is Aaron Hotchner. I have a son, Jack. He’s turning five this fall. My team-- JJ, Spencer, Emily, Dave, Derek, and Penelope-- are looking for me.

But he can’t remember… why.

Cigarettes.

He's talking to-- He was talking to a teen in an alley. He remembers squinting, his head pounding as the lights from the street poured in. He'd chosen not to say anything when the obvious sixteen-year-old pulled out the pack of cigarettes. She was clearly less than thrilled to be talking to the cops-- lease of all him.

He scared her. He could see it in the tremble of her hands and the way she shuffled about. He’d been so distracted by trying to figure out the exact reason for her fear that he hadn’t seen the attack coming. She’d lured him in-- maybe unwilling or unknowingly-- and he’d paid that consequence.

The last thing he remembers is the cold, wet ground against his cheek and the stench of the cigarette smoke against his face.

And then the basement-- How much longer until they come?

His bones have forgotten this pain and his body aches from being held down, beaten, and left on the cold cement floor. He’s too old for this. For all of this.

There’s an infection steadily growing in the cut on his wrist from where his hands had been zip-tied behind his back. The fever is starting to get to his head but it’s hard to tell if that from the infection, the malnutrition (he really should start eating more), or the complete lack of sleep.

He’s pulled upright by a strong grip on his hair. Dazed and brain logged with fever he scrambles to find purchase and to get away from the pain. His eyes raise to the figure before him. A part of him, the strong unwavering Supervisory Special Agent, recognizes the danger the man before him posses.

But fear spikes through his sternum, spreading across his ribs. He’s stuck between the logic and the irrational. The part of his brain that’s always protected him-- don’t blink. Don’t think. Don’t react. And the part that is trembling and so exhausted from this mess.

“What are you now, tough guy?”

The man’s breath is putrid and there’s just enough of an alcoholic undertone that makes Hotch lose it. He’s thrown headfirst into the wall behind him and his head temple connects with the plaster, he’s painfully reminded of his childhood. His father’s big hands wrapping around his skinny wrist and hauling him up onto his feet. Knuckles breaking open his skin from a slap so hard that it jars his brain.

Another punch reigns down and he recoils from it despite knowing better.

Dad always hits harder when he flinches.

The fist connects with his right ear and the world falls silent as he feels the strong, immediate pain. He can feel his grunt tearing up through his throat but he can not hear it. He looks back up at the other man, confusion bleeding into his alarm. He can’t hear.

Fuck. He can’t hear.

The man says something, lurching forward as he does so. It’s meant to scare Hotch but that sort of behavior he sees on a daily basis and without the threat of whatever the man’s said… it falls short. Hotch just blinks up at him. That doesn’t go over well.

The next blow comes out of nowhere-- or maybe it’s coming but Hotch isn’t expecting the pain that rocks through the side of his face. He spits out the blood pooling in his mouth but he’s not quick enough and the taste, mixed with the knots his stomach is twisted into has him on his hands and knees bringing up stomach acid.

There’s little to no reprieve as the puking takes his breath and as he’s pulling in one, the UNSUB kicks his ribs. He falls flat on his back, stars dancing across his vision as he lays there in silent panic failing to breathe.

Reality blurs.

He’s confused. He doesn’t know how he got here to this cold, damp place. The pain that each breath he takes has is not new, this he knows. He knows this ache the way he knows his name. And no matter how many times he repeats his mantra to himself-- My name is Aaron Hotchner. I have a son, Jack-- things just aren’t right.

“Dad--” his head is whipped back, the grip on his hair forcing him to bare his neck. “Please,” he’s trembling, too weak to even lift his torso and relieve the feeling. Time passes but it has no concept, he has no ability to feel it. He just knows that it hurts. “I’m sorry.”

He wakes up on his stomach, blood running into his eyes. He can’t remember why.

Placing his fingers to his lips, he repeats his mantra to himself. Feeling the way his lips move over his hand. He is real. This is all real.

A blinding light.

“Dave,” he lifts his head from the cement but curls in as a coughing fit wracks his sore ribs. The whimper that leaves his mouth falls deaf to his ears-- the world fell silent a long time ago. “Dave, why--” the older man is saying something but Hotch can’t hear him. Yelling, Hotch can tell by the way Dave’s chest expands. Yelling and motioning for Hotch to follow him. “Dave, please come back.” He feels a tear fall over his nose, stinging the opened flesh across it. “I’m sorry. Please, Dave, I’m sorry.”

But-- Hotch pulls his arms underneath his body, pushing with all his might but his arms tremble beneath him and give with the weight. His chest hits the ground and tears pool in his eyes. “Don’t…” he sobs into the hard cement below him. Head growing light as his eyes roll back into his head. The last thing on his lips is Dave’s name… he’s still waiting for him to return.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since Hotch went missing from the alley-- not the supposed three days he thinks have passed.

Derek Morgan knows they’re just looking for a body at this point. Something-- anything-- to bring home. Every night he calls Jessica and talks with Jack. Every night he sends the other’s home and tells them they’ll look for Hotch in the morning-- they’re no good to anyone too exhausted to walk. Besides, he almost hopes they’ll find Hotch in the dead of night. That way the other’s won’t have to see.

He’s not even sure he can handle the sight. The thought alone sends a shiver down his spine. They’re all mortal. From the beginning, they all understood that their lives could ride the line for this job and yet… Hotch has always seemed above that. No matter how many times the world pushed him down the man always gets back up.

Through Boston with Gideon.

Karl Arnold.

George Foyet.

The Fisher King.

And Derek Morgan knows that the human body can only withstand so much but… but if anyone can handle two weeks of torture it has to be Hotch.

The thought makes him sick.

He’s prepared to identify his friend’s body but…

At what cost?

Hotch doesn’t shiver. His eyes half-lidded as he looks at the door… waiting. Just waiting for his father to return.

He’s spread out on his back. Too weak to curl his thin frame up and find shelter in his arms wrapping around him. He just lays there, numb to the wet ground seeping into his clothes. Numb to the pain. He’s just waiting. He passes time by talking to himself. Whispering into the darkness and imagining his team is here.

They are.

Derek’s sitting in front of him, cursing him and fighting with him to keep trying. Emily’s holding his hand while JJ encourages him to get up. Spencer is confused and pleads, downright begs for him to stand but… Hotch can’t. Penelope-- soft, Penelope-- tells him to take his time.

His hearing has returned but his ears ring. He misses the silence.

The door creaks open but it’s not his father standing in the doorway.

“No,” he sobs, turning his head away. “Not you,” he rasps, hopelessly. And Dave is standing in the doorway. He knows the other man’s build too well. Like science. He knows it’s Dave the way he knows his own name. “Please,” his broken voice cracks. But this he can’t take. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I will, I promise.”

Dave pulls in a shuttering breath at the sight before him. His heartbreaks. “Son,” his shoulder’s deflating with the agony of Aaron’s soft voice pleading. “Oh, my boy.” He steps into the room, clenching his fist when as he gets closer Hotch grows more frantic.

“Look,” Hotch flinches as Dave crouches down and touches his shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you, son.”

Hotch looks up at him with tears streaming down his face, mixing with the dried blood caked to every bit of pale skin Dave can see in the low light. “You don’t have to hit me,” he whispers to Dave, clenching the older man’s shirt. “I promise,” his voice trembles with his fear. “I promise, Dave,” his voice turning to a plea. “I’ll be better, okay? I promise.”

Dave pulls him close, blinking back his own tears as Hotch sobs into his chest. “I know you will,” he whispers, rocking their bodies. “I know.” Dave looks up over his shoulder, nodding the officers hovering about to move on. He runs a hand down Hotch’s back before cupping the back of his head.

His dark hair is thick with blood.

It makes Dave’s stomach churn.

“We have to get out here,” Dave whispers, rubbing his back. “Can you get up for me?”

Hotch nods even if he doesn’t really know. “I’ll get up,” he replies shakily.

Dave wants to make a point that it’s okay if Hotch can’t but… he’s not sure Hotch is here enough to understand. He’s spent two weeks being brutally beaten and torn apart-- Dave can’t expect too much.

Together, they do manage to stand.

Hotch holds Dave tight. He’s torn between the physical need to be touched by another human in a way that isn’t painful and holding on to Dave so he can brace for any sudden shift in his mood. In case, Hotch swallows thickly around the sickening thought, Dave decides he’s not good enough. In case, Dave hits him too.

The sun is setting over the mountains and as Hotch steps foot outside a cold chill runs down his back.

“Here,” Dave wiggles out of his jacket and wraps it around Hotch. Smiling reassuredly when Hotch just looks back at him in confusion. “Come on,” Dave loops his arm back around Aaron’s shoulders. He leads Aaron, slow and steady, over the hill. Towards the sound of sirens and people.

“The UNSUB’s in custody.”

Derek had heard the dogs barking just up the mountains a ways ahead of him. He’d looked up but with no radio call, he knows better than to press onward. Shots ring out a moment later and Morgan takes off over the ridge, his own gun out.

He sees the UNSUB with his own eyes.

He’s a giant, wearing flannel and--

“I’ve got Aaron and coming your way Derek.”

Derek had given up. He’d lost his faith.

He laughs out loud, a good hearty laugh. Aaron Hotchner, that son of a bitch!

His run comes to a staggering halt. Hotch doesn’t look like himself. In fact, he looks small and weak with his arms pulled into Dave’s jacket. His eyes haunted-- even from afar-- as he takes in his surroundings. Assess them for danger.

“Derek,” Hotch whispers to himself. Was Derek in the explosion? Hotch can smell the fire. He shakes his head-- it all happened to so fast. He hadn’t known there was a bomb under the car. He didn’t know it was going to explode like that. “Is he okay,” Hotch slurs, his foot catching on a raised root.

Dave’s hand tightens but Hotch’s mind is elsewhere, he doesn’t even feel it.

“Derek was…” he keeps mumbling to himself, unaware that Dave doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand that Derek might have gotten hurt in the explosion with Kate. Someone has to check on him. Hotch needs Dave to check on him. He looks over at Dave. It causes him significant pain but it’s worth it as he manages to say, clearly enough to Dave to understand, “Morgan’s hurt. You have to… help.”

Morgan gets closer and Dave grunts as Hotch pushes himself from Dave’s arms and staggers to Morgan.

He’s quick and catches Hotch just as his knees begin to cave beneath him. “The bomb,” Hotch slurs, allowing Morgan to ease them both to the ground. “- ‘splosion.”

Morgan looks up to Dave, “what the hell is he talking about?”

Dave shakes his head, sad eyes turning down to Hotch. “I don’t know,” he says, truthfully. He looks back up, waving a hand and whistling as loud as he can. “We need a gurney over here!”

Hotch lays limply in Derek’s arms, just looking up at the younger man. He doesn’t see any blood and that releases some of his tension. “You okay,” he slurs, eyes dropping as fights against the light feeling in his head.

Morgan looks down at his boss. The strongest man he knows. He’s a mess. Covered in blood and dirt. He takes Hotch’s hand, the two might not always get along but Hotch has always been there when Morgan needed him. “I’m alright, man.” He taps Hotch’s cheek, rousing him. “Stay awake for me, okay?”

Hotch forces his eyes open.

He can do that. He can stay awake.

The EMTs swarm them and with them come the rest of the team.

Hotch smiles as he sees them, reaching out with a shaking hand to touch-- to really know they’re here and that this isn’t a figment of his tortured mind. When JJ’s thin fingers slide between his, a soft sob breaks from his lips and her own eyes fill with tears.

She crouches down next to him, brushing the tear that falls from his eyes with a soft stroke of her hand. “We’re here now,” she whispers to him. “You’re safe, Aaron.”

He knows it, too.

As a needle breaks through the skin of his right elbow he winces and Emily bites out a threat. It makes him smile and a moment later he feels her rest her hand on his shoulder. Her thumb brush against his chin. He can see rather than feel Reid but the intense gaze of the genius is something his mind could never conceive and as a mask is placed over his face he breathes in the cool relief of oxygen.

He knows he’s safe in their arms.

“Get some rest.”

A warm palm is pressed to his cheek and he leans into it.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #david rossi #derek morgan #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #tw torture #tw voilence #tw puke

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waitingfortheendtocome · 4 years

Text

Forced To Let Go CH 2

This is the second chapter of my Jemily fic Forced to Let Go. I’m sorry for delaying it, I kind of got caught up in the game Lara Croft: Tomb Raider lol.

Looking back at this story I realized I turned it into two chapters not Three. Whoops lol If you want to see a third part to this story let me know and I’ll be happy to write it. I was honestly going to make it more angsty by adding some ideas I have in my head but decided against it and ending it here.

I’m working on the second chapter to my Ocean’s 8 Lou Miller/Reader fic and I’ll pot it as soon as I finish it. I’m just working on the angle on how I want the story to go. :)

Warnings: No major warning except Angst andd even more Angst.

****************************************************

Two Days Later

Day of Wedding

Emily had arrived at the wedding a little late. It hurt too much to come and watch the woman she loved marry someone else and knowing she probably essentially pushed them together. Just the thought made her heart clench heavily. The other reason why she was late was because she technically didn’t have anything to wear since she packed all her belongings and put them in the trunk of her car. She had already given her landlord the keys to the apartment before she drove to the wedding. Her intentions were to come for the ceremony and sneak away and leave as soon as it was over, not able to bear to be there any longer let alone say goodbye to anyone.

Emily had gone to the bar to drink a little and be away from everyone only for Morgan to catch up unfortunately for her the man had been extremely observant since he had noticed how quiet and closed off she was after talking to him she confessed about her leaving much to his disappointment and Hotch popping up trying to talk her out of it but she shook her head stating she had already made the decision looking away and walking away but both men knew it was much more they where profilers they knew something else was driving Emily to pack up and leave but they didn’t pressure her. Instead they both made a point in making her final night with them worthwhile and memorable even though Emily doubted anything could cheer her up but nodded smiling not wanting to disappoint them.

The wedding ceremony started without delay and JJ walked down the aisle. Emily watched her walk down the aisle and Emily couldn’t look away. Emily thought JJ looked breathtakingly beautiful, she looked like an angel in her white dress and she couldn’t look away. The dress hugged her figure perfectly and her hair styled to perfection but what snapped her out of it was the smile. Emily saw JJ give Will the happiest smile she has given anyone and that broke Emily all over again but she pushed it back.

When JJ walked past Emily, Emily made sure not to meet JJ’s eyes instead she looked at Will’s direction and didn’t help but roll her eyes slightly. She looked around making sure no one noticed and was relieved when no one did. Emily after sat through the long ceremony and watched them say their final I do. After the priest asked if anyone objected and no one did despite the fact that Emily loved her but she wouldn’t be cruel despite the outcome. During that minute paused Emily caught JJ looking at her and Emily’s eyes flashed with pain but hid it instead Emily looked down and away pretending to look to see if anyone would object.

***************************************************

The reception party began quickly after, it had started a bit ago and Emily began walking around watching her team. Her now ex-team danced and partied the night away, celebrating JJ and Will now husband and wife’s wedding. It was at this moment that she decided to leave. Seeing them dancing smiling happily made Emily wonder why she did after so many times JJ expressed that she couldn't see herself marrying Will.

Emily herself found the man slightly controlling given how he forced JJ to tell the rest of the team that they were officially even threatening to break up over it and on top of that forcing JJ to tell the team about the pregnancy and even telling them himself when she wasn’t ready. Emily knew he made her happy but some of his behaviors unnerved Emily and she secretly had hoped JJ would choose to be with her but she knew it would never happen despite their fling and quite frankly she wasn’t surprised.

Emily watched Garcia dancing with Morgan, Hotch dancing with Beth and Rossi with Strauss. JJ dancing with Will. Emily walked near a tree and her eyes suddenly locked with JJ, Emily could see the look of regret and apologetic and Emily’s eyes betrayed how heartbroken she was. Emily simply walked on mouthing out congratulations, eyes more on Will than at JJ. Emily didn’t want to make JJ feel bad at her wedding so she locked eyes one more time to see JJ mouthing out an apology and Emily despite herself gave a single curt nod at her as a way of telling her it was fine and it didn’t matter.

She made sure she kept up a mask of calm and indifference all the while she pretended she was happy and enjoying herself. Despite feeling led on and hurt she was actually happy for JJ but at the same time she just couldn’t express it at the moment. Although Emily knew that JJ could see through the fake smile and sudden professional nod, JJ has seen her use it too many times it was the same indifferent professional nod she gave anyone she meets while working cases or even anyone her mother introduces her.

At this point Emily had to keep her distance and stay far from her best friend and being indifferent was the only way they thought she could. As well as running away Emily seems to be a pro at doing that too.

Emily walked to her table to grab another drink when she felt someone tap her shoulder. Looking over her shoulder to find Morgan staring intensely at her with a knowing look beside him was Spencer.

“What’s up guys?” Emily questioned

Morgan glanced at Spencer than at Emily, “I was going to talk to you.”

“Same, us coming here at the same time is a coincidence although I have to say Emily don't think I haven’t noticed.” Spencer told her eyebrow raised

Emily gulped nervously wondering what he was talking about. She knew he wasn’t aware of her leaving since it was a last minute thing and she has been very subtle when it came down to her crush on JJ not to mention her relationship with the blonde or lack of relationship.

“Emily I saw the look you gave JJ just now and could read right through it and no I wasn’t profiling. If that look doesn’t scream I’m not happy for you than I don’t know what is also I noticed a few months now how distance you’ve been with her, you only talk to her professionally when it involves cases and when she wants to have a casual conversation you either pretend you're interested or make an excuse and walk away.” Spencer explained worried

“I have noticed as well Prentiss. Tell us what’s really going on with you. I know you went through a lot and this is something that’s much more then.” Morgan told her arms crossed

“Ugh what did I say about profiling.” Emily told them irritated

“It wasn’t profiling Emily. You’re in love with her... Emily why didn’t you ever told her even before she meet him.” Reid tone was frantic and changed to disappointment at the last part of his sentence as if the idea of Emily never telling JJ was devastating to him

Emily froze and immediately flushed shaking her head, “Whatttt no what gave……..me and JJ? Nooo...we never…… I mean….” Emily stuttered but paused sighing taking a deep breath, “What I mean to say is nothing is going on between JJ and I.”

Morgan shook his head, not impressed by her excuse and Spencer rolled his eyes but his eyes shone in amusement.

“Emily who are you trying to fool, I’m a bisexual man I can tell you’re gay from a mile away and JJ is as closeted as they come and I know you two secretly slept together so I’ll asked again. Why didn’t you ever tell her, you know if you needed help I could have helped anything to get you two together.” Spencer explained crossing his arms equally disappointed

Emily’s jaw dropped for a moment shocked but sighed knowing they caught her and there was no way to lie to them and it would be nice to tell someone about it for a change.

“Okay fine I’ll tell you and I didn’t knew you where bisexual. How did I miss it?” Emily questions suspiciously

Reid laughed shaking his head and Morgan chuckled, “Emily I don’t exactly try to hide it you know. I didn’t just went to see my friend play you know.”

“Oh…….OHHH.. Go Reid.” Emily cheered earning a blush from the man

“You’re evasive Emily.” Morgan pointed out and Emily sighed

“Fine… long story short JJ and I had something going on for years even while JJ was with Will. I tried to stop it a few times but when things got serious between them I stopped it somewhat I only agreed to be with her a few times feeling it wrong. In Paris she stayed a while with me until I recovered and during that time we talked a lot she told me Will had proposed a few times and she refused him. She told me he isn’t the type she would marry and would never marry him. I asked her about her type and she told me she would rather date me and give me a chance… she even promised we can date when Doyle was captured we can start dating.” Emily told them sounding sad looking down

Both men looked at Emily worried but confused. They both looked at each other and thought the same thing. If JJ was willing to be with Emily what happened? They both looked back at JJ and Will dancing and back at Emily.

“What happened? That could be you there not him. Nothing against Will but between us three I rather see you and her there.” Morgan told Emily

“I second that.” Reid stated smiling brightly

Emily smiled weakly at them, “She changed her mind a few weeks ago during the Oregon worshiping ritual case I told her and asked rather what we were. Anyways she told me she can’t leave Will and cant hurt him… well more like tell me she cannot bear to hurt him. She also said she isn’t ready for that commitment or the consequences that came with it whatever that means….” Emily shrugged. Reid gave Emily a sad look out of all the reasons that was the last thing he was expecting and all Morgan did was shake his head frowning, also surprised and baffled.

“So she didn’t love you back? She could have fooled us don’t think we didn’t know about you two but none of us said anything because it wasn’t our business and you never got in the way of work.” Morgan pointed out

“That’s not important anymore… She is married now I have to get over her that’s why I have to get away… Guys are alright, it was nothing but a fling between friends. Friends with benefits but I put an end to it completely weeks ago.” Emily told them shaking her head

“Wait! Leave what do you mean leave.” Reid squeaked surprised

“Sorry Reid but I’m leaving for London. I was offered a position to be director of Interpol and I took it… I wasn’t going to but I have to get away…. I….is not the same after Doyle I would have stuck around but after what happened a few weeks ago and now this I really need to leave I already gave up my apartment and packed but I wasn’t going to leave without at least saying goodbye to you Reid I was actually going to go tell you before I leave in a twenty minutes.” Emily promised

Reid looked at her sad and put out but nodded, “I understand Emily, I would want to get away for a while too if I was in your shoes.”

Emily hugged them promising to keep in touch; they then pulled her to dance which earned a real laugh for the first time in weeks. After Morgan winked and went to distract everyone alone with Reid while Emily snuck away but not before Hugging Rossi and whispering her goodbye to him. He was saddened but nodded understanding and she took advantage and walked away looking back one last time. The team was all dancing and partying Morgan and Reid doing a really good job keeping everyone occupied and distracted so none of them even noticed she was gone. JJ was holding Will tightly smiling brightly which made Emily frown saddened the ache coming back full force making her eyes water.

“Bye JJ. Despite how things turned out I’ll always love you.” Emily whispered one last time to herself staring longingly at JJ’s direction before walking to her car and driving off to the airport.

An hour later Emily sat at the airplane drained but she could never sleep in an airplane the days events catching up to her but she knew there was no turning back and she had to get away from it all. She wondered how it was that Doyle single handedly took everything from her yet it was JJ’s wedding that became the last straw. A lone tear fell from her eyes, feeling the plane taking off.

Is for the best Emily. You have to forget her, she chose Will. Emily thought over and over again trying to remind herself.

“Forgetting someone as special as JJ is the hard part.” Emily sighed softly looking out the night sky watching the lights of the city fade into the distance.

****************************************************************************

After the Wedding Reception

JJ looked around once she and the team finished cleaning up Rossi’s yard after cleaning they hung out for a while but JJ spent it thinking about Emily wondering where she was. JJ and Will an hour after it was all over drove home with Will originally they where suppose to go to a hotel to essentially have sex a couple but JJ wasn’t up telling Will another time but her mother had overheared and had none of it forcing her too thrilled to have her daughter finally marry what she described as an exemplary man who she always dreamed her daughter to marrying and JJ felt a wave of guilt thinking of Emily suddenly wondering if the wedding was a good idea when she knew who she truly loved was Emily.

She hasn’t seen Emily since they shared that look which hasn’t left her mind all night. She had a really bad feeling about it and she really wanted to talk to Emily and maybe straighten things she didn’t want to lose her best friend but something Reid said struck out just now that she couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. He had told her privately how sometimes during life and death situations is not wise to make major deciduous because you have the tendency of regretting them later on, that is why experts always say to wat twenty-four to forty-eight hours once the adrenaline is gone before making any decision and is worse if someone you care about nearly dies. What had unnerved JJ was the way Reid looked at her square in her eyes as they danced and said what he said to her made her heart drop but before she could ask they stopped dancing and went back to where Morgan and Garcia where and Rossi took over to dance with her.

“JJ I understand you almost lost the father of your son and want him around for Henry and to give him a family having him grow up with both parents close but why the sudden chance specially when you rejected the proposal so many times. Jayje as your friend and the godfather of your son know that experts say that you shouldn’t make big decisions like this as soon as you face extreme traumatic events or life and death situations you tend to regret them later.” Reid stated while spinning her gently

JJ looked confused at him, “What are you saying Spencer that I made a mistake marrying the father of my child who I love?” JJ looked baffled at him

Spencer shook his head at JJ, “There’s a difference between Loving someone and being in love with someone JJ for example I love you but as a sister I’m not in love with you romantically. They’re many different kinds of love JJ siblings, paternal, and you can love someone enough to procreate but not truly love them deeply in love with them.” Spencer spun them both gracefully while spinning JJ and catching her meeting JJ’s wide surprised eyes with his own knowing ones which JJ found unnerving.

JJ furrowed her eyebrows confused, “What’s w…”

Spencer interrupted her, his tone gently and kind, “I know more than I let on and all I can say is is stability, comfort, the obvious choice and family expectations really worth losing the person you’re truly in love with because trust me by the time you figure it out it’ll be to late. You said your I do’s to the obvious choice who had already giving up asking content with not marrying and trust me even Will had noticed. Think about it JJ and congratulations on the wedding regardless of your choice is your wedding and we are happy for you.” Reid stopped there dancing and winked walking away

“Wait Spencer.” JJ called out

“Yes?” Spencer quirked an eyebrow

“What do you mean and when did you learn to dance so well?” JJ’s voice was soft

“Just giving my best friend advice and Richard taught me.” Spencer gave JJ a wide grin and a knowing wink before walking away

That last part didn’t click to JJ right away until now the tone of pure fondness Spencer used when he said the name and when it clicked her eyes widen in realization that this Richard guy might be someone Spencer was dating but JJ didn’t knew Spencer way gay since she seen him show interest in girls too so that meant he was bisexual but that last part wasn’t what was in her head it was the entire conversation and when she looked around for Emily she couldn’t find her but before she could even go looking for her. Her mother and Garcia had shoved her in a car with Will sending her off.

*************************************************************************

The Next Day

JJ snuck out of the hotel dressed in casual and ran off. The entire night her mind was on Emily but unfortunately she had to focus for an hour on Will. Usually she can get off fine with him but last night she found herself faking it for her husband's sake. Thankfully he was no profiler and JJ was a pretty good actress and he didn’t tell a difference. She felt guilty for doing that on her honeymoon night but she did say she wasn’t up for it but not wanting to ruin it for him.

JJ got in her car thinking about Emily, she had asked last night about her but no one had seen her so she had called Emily’s phone but it was off. Today JJ called a few more times but it was off again and became even more worried JJ left a note to Will letting him know she’ll be back.

JJ drove as quickly as she could to Emily’s apartment. She wondered why Emily would walk out in the middle of her wedding like that, it wasn’t like Emily and she wondered why. JJ knew she was a coward and chose the easy way out and regretted it. Reid’s words sunk in and she realized he knew about JJ’s relationship with Emily so that means he knew something more and he was expecting her to choose Emily.

JJ ran out of her car and inside JJ’s apartment building and up the stairs JJ stopped at Emily’s apartment door and knocked frantically but no one answered. Now that JJ thought about it Morgan gave her the same look and felt dread that they knew that she didn’t.

“EMILY.” JJ shouted, knocking violently at the door feeling more dread.

JJ wiggled the doorknob to find that it turned. Unlocked? JJ thought confused and barged in knowing it wasn’t like Emily to leave her door unlocked. JJ didn’t even think of the potential danger she rushed in the apartment calling out to Emily. JJ ran in the dark apartment looking everywhere.

“EMILY.” JJ called looking from room to room finding no one except an empty apartment it looked as it was abandoned. As if Emily never lived there. JJ’s eyes widened and suddenly felt a wave of nausea at the thought. She felt the air getting knocked out of her lungs.

“No.” JJ gasped and ran into Emily’s closet yanking the door open finding it empty. “Noooooo.” was all that left JJ’s lips sounded like a broken whimper

JJ searched all of Emily’s apartment to find Emily’s belongings gone; nothing was left; it was as if she never even lived there. A broken sob escaped JJs lips at the realization and it all made sense. The phone calls and Emily brushing off the question when Reid asked, Emily being distant towards her, the smile yet JJ knew it was faked the heartbreak that flashed in Emily’s eyes at the reception party when she was dancing with Will and again at the ceremony. Everything hit JJ and she crumbled broken sobs escaping her lips followed by heavy regrets and realization now Reid’s words made sense. JJ fell on Emily’s bed curling herself into a ball crying inconsolably.

“Emily…….I should have chosen you…..now it is too late.” JJ sobbed crying her body shaking with every sob, “I love you Em please come back. What have I done...I choose you Em….” JJ sobbed

She chose Will because she knew she did but her heart was with Emily and JJ knew she was the reason Emily left and she didn’t know when she’ll come back or if she’ll come back. JJ knew she had made a mistake.

JJ laid there for what seemed like hours crying thinking about the what if and how happy she was with Emily and more importantly how she blew it due to her fears. JJ’s phone ran suddenly startling. JJ’s struggled to stop crying, taking deep breaths after a bit handling her emotions. She picked it up hoping it was Emily but her heart sank when it was Will who was calling. She answered and sighed telling him she’ll be right there hanging up. A fresh wave of tears fell curling herself into a ball again ignoring her now husband in favor of laying there crying over the loss and heartbreak she felt at the realization that the woman she loved was gone.

“You didn’t even say goodbye.” JJ whimpered sobbing. JJ grabbed on to the covers sobbing uncontrollably over having lost her best friend and the woman she truly loved. The once warm lively apartment now felt cold and empty the sounds of JJ's sobbing echoing on the eerily silent apartment a constant reminder that Emily is truly gone and JJ now realizing the mistake she made and not able to take back.

#Criminal Minds #CM #Emily Prentiss #Jennifer Jareau #spencer reid #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #jemily #jemily angst #jj #JJxEmily #jj and emily #jennifer jereau/emily prentiss #Jennifer Jereau x Emily Prentiss #I'm so sorry in advance for the Angst #angst

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gamergirl929 · 5 years

Text

A Player By Default (Christen Press x Reader)

Anonymous Request: What about a Christen Press one when the reader is like the teams fuckgirl but Christen caught feelings so Tobin teases her about it and Christen keeps denying it until the teams at a bar or something and gets jealous when she sees reader dancing with someone so Christen drags her to the bathroom and uh... you know what to do from there.

SMUTTY SMUTTT SMUTT SMUT AHEAD

Christen Press watches with a frown as you swagger over to one of the opposing team’s players, taking her hand, giving it a shake along with a charming smile that made the woman blush.

“Y/N got her dick out again?” Megan asks Tobin leaning towards the woman who nods when she catches sight of you.

Ashlyn shakes her head, propping an elbow up on Megan’s shoulder as she watches the woman you’re talking to giggle at something you said.

Tobin catches sight of Christen out of the corner of her eye and makes her way towards her, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

“You okay Chris?” She asks and Christen sighs, turning to the woman with a forced smile.

“I’m fine.”

Tobin’s brown orbs narrow, as she stares at her best friend’s profile, the brunette’s eyes back on you and the woman you’re shamelessly flirting with.

“Admit it Chris, you got a thing for our team’s fuckboi.” Tobin smirks and Christen turns to her abruptly, eyes narrowed.

“I do not.” She mumbles, bottom lip jutted out, only jutting out further when you move to tuck a wisp of hair out of the woman you’ve been flirting withs face.

“Y/N! YOUR DICK IS SHOWING!” Ashlyn yells, earning a smack on the chest from Ali.

Meanwhile, across the field you smirk, shrugging.

“I MEAN IT’S PRETTY BIG.” You yell back, the blonde shaking her head, it’s then you spot Christen out of the corner of your eye and you grin.

You give the Canadian player a wave before jogging towards her and Tobin, the latter giving her best friend a grin and a wink before you reach the two of them.

“Hey!” You beam, throwing your arms around her neck, hugging the woman tightly.

You pull back with a massive grin, completely missing the tinged pink cheeks of the woman you’d had in your arms moments before.

“You did great today Chris, you too Tobe.” You grin, your eyes lingering on Christen, cheeks dusted pink.

Someone slaps you hard on the back and you grunt, turning to see Emily standing beside you.

“Get her number?” She asks and your brows furrow.

“Whose number?” You ask and the woman snorts.

“The Canadian girl?” She points over her shoulder at the woman who’s still looking at you, doe eyed and you nod, mouth hanging open.

“I kind of told her to wait there...” You wince, glancing at Emily, who also winces.

“I’ll DM you later!” You wave the Canadian women’s brow furrowing before she nods and runs towards the locker room.

You turn back around, your teammates all looking at you with narrowed eyes, arms crossed across their chests.

“I’ll DM her that I’m not interested.” You shrug, earning a smack on the chest from Kelley.

“Keep your shlong in your pants.” She yells and you shrug.

“It’s hard to sometimes it’s huge.”

“OW! YOU ALL DIDN’T HAVE TO HIT ME!”

***

“Hey.” You wink at the waitress at dinner with a grin, immediately getting slapped in the back of the head by Alex.

Across the table, Christen frowns as she fidgets with her napkin.

Tobin gives her a shrug and a smile.

“It’s okay.”

You pick your head up, eyes widening when you see Christen’s frown.

“Hey.” You whisper, leaning across the table to put your hand on hers. “You okay?” You ask softly, completely missing the way Christen’s cheeks flush red.

“Excuse me I was wondering...”

The women’s voice falls on deaf ears considering all your attention is focused on Christen, the waitress eventually giving up and leaving the table.

You glance over, shrugging before you turn all your attention back to the forward.

“Are you alright? Feeling okay?” You ask and Christen nods, giving you a small smile.

“I’m okay.” You nod skeptically, but give her hand a squeeze nonetheless.

“Remember, I’m here for you, whatever you need.” You whisper softly and Christen nods.

“Thanks Y/N.”

“Anytime.”

***

“Wait, I got it.” You smile, as you hold the door open for Christen, but not before you grab her bag out of her hand.

Christen smiles softly, cheeks red.

“Thanks Y/N.” She whispers and you grin.

“No problem.”

Christen sits on the bus beside Tobin, wearing a massive grin that has her best friend giving her a nudge.

“What’s got you so smiley?” She asks, the forward shrugging, but as soon as you slip on the bus Tobin’s brows arch.

“Damn it, of course you’d sit with Toblerone.” You pout, the aforementioned woman sticking her tongue out.

“Sorry, I already won her heart Y/N.” She grins, her brows furrowing when she notices the corner of your mouth tick down momentarily before you again put on your cheery facade.

“We’ll see about that.” You wink, Christen rolling her eyes, apparently missing your small frown.

You flop down in an empty seat, kicking your legs up and letting out a groaning yawn.

“Wake me when we get there.”

Emily scoffs.

“No, you’re staying here.”

You scoff.

“Bite me Sonnett.”

***

“Jesus Christ, can Y/N ever keep her dick in her pants.” Ashlyn mumbles when she sees you flirting with a camera girl of the side lines.

Christen lets out a sad sigh, drawing the attention of Tobin, who of course, slips her arms around her in a hug.

You glance towards your teammates, frowning when you see Christen in the woman’s arms, your heart tightening in your chest.

You clear your throat, turning back to the pretty camera girl with a smile, the camera girl turns towards your teammates, noticing the change in your demeanor as she puts her hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe you should tell her how you feel?” She asks and you scoff, glancing away, looking behind you as if she’s talking to someone else.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You shuffle on your feet and she rolls her eyes.

“Don’t play dumb, you’ve been glancing at her ever since you started talking to me.”

You swallow hard, taking a deep breath.

“She won’t ever see me that way, besides, she’s with...” You nod towards your teammates with your head to where Tobin is holding Christen.

The camera girl shrugs.

“It doesn’t hurt to try, I mean they only look like friends to me.”

You shake your head, frowning sadly.

“I don’t think I can do it.”

Camera girl surprises you by pulling you into a hug, her arms around your neck.

“If you’re ballsy enough to hit on everything with two legs, then you’re ballsy enough to ask her out.” She pulls back from the hug with a wink and you laugh.

“Hey! I do not flirt on everything with two legs!”

The girl scoffs.

“You do, but that will never get her out of your head.”

Wordlessly, the woman walks off, your hands slipping into your short’s pockets.

“Damn it.”

You turn around, slowly making your way towards the team, confidence in your steps when you notice Tobin and Christen looking your way.

“Did you get another number? Saw you got a hug.” Lindsey nudges you with her elbow and you shrug, grinning cockily.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

***

The weeks go by, your behavior still the same as Christen clings to Tobin, the two hugging and holding hands more often than not which of course, sends a knife straight through your heart.

It was your own fault, camera girl was right, you needed to try, but she would never look at you the way she looked at Tobin there was no way she wou-

“You alright?” You jump at the sound of a familiar voice, looking up to see Christen’s worried green orbs on you.

“Ye-Yeah...” You stammer, the woman’s eyes narrowing as she takes a seat beside you on the bench, practice still going on as the two of you take your break.

“So...” You clear your throat. “Uhh, Chris...”

Christen turns to you a brow arched as you nervously rub your hands together, cheeks pink.

“I was wondering if... Maybe ummm...” You exhale loudly, running your hands down your face.

“Don’t fuck this up.” You whisper against your palms.

“Would you like to... Sit with me on the bus?” You ask, brow furrowed, where the fuck did you come up with that?

Christen smiles, patting your back.

“Sorry Y/N, I already promised I’d sit with Tobin.”

You open your mouth, immediately snapping it shut with aforementioned forward runs towards the two of you, brown orbs narrowed as they dart between the two of you.

“Hey Chris, you ready? I need you...” She points over her shoulder and the woman nods, jumping up off the bench.

“See you later Y/N.” She grins, Tobin grinning too before they both run off.

You look down at your lap sadly, chest clenched.

“See you later.”

***

“You have to admit, Y/N’s got game.” Ashlyn mumbles to Ali, both looking at the dance floor as you dance between two women, a drink in your hand that you throw back without even a wince.

Across the table Christen has Tobin’s hand in a vice, the forward’s teeth clenched.

“Chris, I know we play soccer, but I still need my hand.” She cringes, sighing when the woman lets go, the white outlines of Christen’s fingers on her hand.

“Sorry Tobe...” She whispers, sighing deeply as she watches you laugh, one of the women now facing you.

“Go get her.”

Christen’s brows furrow as she looks across the table, nearly all of her teammates looking back.

“What?” She scoffs.

Mallory shrugs, glancing at everyone.

“You like her, go get her, show her you like her.”

Her teammates all nod along, the fast forward’s eyes going wide.

“I don’t know-

“Save it.” Megan says, putting her hand up. “We know you like her, yeah Y/N might be a fuckboi, but it doesn’t hurt to try.” She shrugs.

Christen opens her mouth to reply, but immediately snaps it shut when she sees the woman facing you is going for a kiss.

“Uh-oh.” Tobin mumbles as the woman jumps to her feet and hurries onto the dance floor, grabbing you by your shirt and dragging you away.

“What the hell Chris!” You yell over the booming music but Christen doesn’t stop, pulling you eventually out of view from the team.

“10 bucks say they hook up in the bathroom.” Ashlyn whispers to Megan who smirks.

“You’re on.”

***

“Chris, what’s wrong?” You ask when she shoves you into the bathroom, immediately and sternly kicking everyone in there out.

The second they’re gone she immediately locks the door.

“Chris, what’s going on-

Suddenly, and much to your surprise, the woman seizes you by the front of your shirt, pulling you into a kiss.

The kiss is short, sweet, a confession that has you completely shocked, your eyes slammed shut and mouth gaping.

Meanwhile, Christen is looking at you, waiting for a response.

“Did you just kiss me?” You whisper in disbelief and Christen smiles, backing you up against a nearby wall.

“I did.” She whispers, finally, your eyes crack open.

You blink rapidly, grinning when you realize Christen Press is standing right in front of you, hands still holding fistfuls of your shirt as she stares at you nervously.

“But...” You lick your lips. “Tobin...?” You ask, brows furrowed.

Christen’s brows arch.

“Tobin?” She asks, confused and you shrug, blushing as you glance away.

“You and Tobin, I can’t come between tha-

You gasp when Christen’s hand slips to the back of your head before pulling you into another kiss, a kiss that’s longer than the first, fueled by the same passion.

Again, when you part you can’t help but gape, your eyes still shut.

“There is no Tobin and I...” Christen whispers and your eyes flash open, locking with her beautiful green orbs.

“Se-Seriously?” You ask, shocked and Christen nods.

You scoff, shaking your head.

“You mean I could’ve asked you out all this time...?” You mumble aloud and Christen’s eyes widen.

“Asked me out?” She smirks and you shrug.

“Maybe...” You squeak, voice an octave higher.

Christen smirks, her green orbs running down your front where a few buttons had been popped on your dress shirt.

Your eyes widen when Christen starts popping the buttons on your shirt, pupils dilated as she traps her tongue between her teeth.

“Right now, there’s only one thing I want...” She purrs and you shiver, your core throbbing.

“What’s that?” You whisper, licking your lips and Christen smirks.

“I want you to fuck me.”

You release a quivering breath, watching as her green orbs darken with lust.

You put your hand up, Christen thinks you’re about to cup her cheek, but instead you slap your own face.

Christen lets out a giggle when your eyes further widen.

“Wait, that actually hurt.” You mumble. “I’m awake?” You say incredulously.

Christen cups your flushed cheek.

“Yes, you’re awake.” She giggles, leaning in to peck your lips.

You grasp her waist, pulling her against your front before your lips meet again, kisses sloppy as your lips meet over and over again.

Christen sighs when your tongue probes at her bottom lip, immediately welcoming your tongue inside, the pink organ flicking against the roof of her mouth before tangling with her own.

Christen gasps when you flip the two of you around, pressing her against the door as the two of you kiss, moans tumbling from your open mouths as your tongue play.

At the first roll of her hips you pull back, your eyes darting around the woman’s face, cheeks flushed as she pants heavily, chest rising and falling.

You smirk cockily, Christen letting out a squeal as you pull her into the air and carry her towards the sink, sitting her on top of the counter top it’s affixed to.

“I think you wanted me to do something, didn’t you?” You tease, kissing the woman’s neck gently, the forward’s body trembling.

“Yes...” She gasps when you nibble on her pulse point.

“Where do you need me Chris?” You whisper, ducking your head to nip at the exposed flesh at the top of her dress.

“Fuck!” She moans when you suck on the swell of her breast, leaving a purple bruise behind.

You hum, kissing from between her breasts, up her neck, along the underside of her jaw before you again meet her lips, grinning cockily as you pull back.

Your eyes remain locked with Christen’s dark green orbs as you roll her dress up, the woman picking up her hips to aid you in your mission.

The cool air hits Christen’s heat when you strip her panties off, pulling them over her heel covered feet.

Without another word, your eyes still on green orbs, you sink to your knees, the woman’s eyes nearly bulging from her skull as you hook her legs up over your shoulders.

“Shit...” Christen whispers as you press kisses to her calves, before reaching her inner thighs, the woman’s tongue darting between the tight line formed by her lips.

Finally, you reach your destination and you take a deep breath.

“You smell so fucking good Chris...” You whisper, turning your head to gently nibble on her thigh. “I bet you taste just as great.”

Without any further warning you dive in, face hidden by Christen’s dress as your tongue runs through her folds.

“Fuck!” She cries out, slapping a hand over her mouth as your tongue drinks her in as if she were the fountain of youth.

“Oh, my fucking God!” She moans, unable to see exactly what you’d done with your tongue, but whatever it was, it felt fucking amazing.

You smirk, repeating the action and getting the same result, the woman letting out a squeaky moan.

“Don’t get us caught.” You whisper, kissing the apex between the woman’s thighs and she laughs, gasping when you lick her slit.

“Easy for you to say...” She sighs biting her fist when you do the thing with your tongue that drives her wild.

“You’re so wet.” You whisper, teasing her entrance with your tongue. “Fuck, I could do this all night.” You grin, the woman above you trembling as your tongue slips inside her, exploring the tight channel.

“Oh god...”

“Feel good?” Your tongue retreats, just so you can cockily ask, grinning at Christen’s wordless and rapid nods.

“Feels so good.” She moans when your tongue again slips inside her, the organ not finished probing her from inside.

Christen tousles your hair, her thin, long fingers tangling in it as she pulls you closer to her core.

“So good.” She quivers, body shaking slightly as you began your assault on her clit.

“Wait...” You whisper, pulling back, much to Christen’s dismay.

The woman watches as you roll her dress up further, her green orbs nearly black as they dart around your face, your chin wet with her slick.

You lean in, the woman moaning as she tastes herself on your tongue.

“I want you to watch me fuck you.” You growl against her lips the woman’s throat bobbing.

“Then fuck me.” She challenges and you grin, pecking her lips before you again sink to your knees.

“Gladly.”

Christen watches for a millisecond, realizing that what had earlier felt so good was your tongue wiggling and teasing her clit’s shaft, her eyes slamming shut as she rocks into your face.

“Fuck Y/N...” She shivers and you grin, nipping at her clit.

“Say my name.” You whisper, sucking her clit into your mouth.

“Y/N!” She cries out, your tongue lashing against the little bundle of nerves.

“Fuck...” You quake, giving her clit a hard suck.

Without absolutely no warning the woman lets out a cry, body spasming as she cums, hands fisting in your hair as she rocks into your mouth with absolutely no sense of rhythm.

You meanwhile are in utter ecstasy, the woman’s essence coating your tongue, but you’re suddenly cut off guard, turning to let out a loud groan against her thigh when your body convulses as it reaches its climax.

Christen watches, wide eyed as you cum from absolutely no stimulation, the mere act of bringing her pleasure enough to send you over the edge.

You raggedly breathe as you come down from your high, body still quaking slightly.

“Th-That’s never happened before...” You mumble embarrassed, your cheeks flushed.

Christen cups your cheek, running her hand down your face to gently take your chin between her thumb and index finger.

“It’s okay...” She purrs and you smile softly, tilting your head down to kiss her thumb.

You stand your back and knees popping as you do so before your lips meet Christen’s, the taste of herself on your tongue making her moan.

You pull back from the kiss, breathless, running your lips along her cheek before they brush her ear.

“I’m not done with you.” You whisper, the brunette letting out a grunt as your fingers run through her folds.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you?” You tease, your fingertips teasing her entrance.

“You didn’t think I’d not want my fingers inside you, did you?” You lick the shell of her ear. “Didn’t think I wouldn’t want to feel your slippery clit beneath my fingertips?” You ask, Christen sighs when your fingertips brush her clit.

Christen’s mouth opens and closes a few time, the only sound leaving her mouth being a whine.

You press your fingertips against her clit, smirking when her hips cant. Gently, you take her hand, placing it on your shoulder before doing the same with her other.

“You’re going to want to hold on.” You smirk, Christen’s pupils dilating a millisecond before your flick your wrist.

Christen’s nails dig into your shoulders as your fingers move, drawing tight, fast circles over the sensitive nub between her legs.

“Fuck... Yes, yes...” She cries when two of your fingers easily invade the woman’s tight channel, your thumb rubbing her clit mercilessly fast as your fingers work inside her.

“You like that?” You ask, intently watching Christen’s face, gauging her reactions to see what drives her wild.

The deeper your fingers slip, the wider Christen’s mouth opens, the wrinkle between her brows deepening.

“Yes, God yes.” She sighs, green orbs fluttering open, locking with your Y/E/C orbs.

You press your lips to hers, the woman grunting against your lips when you palm her breast with your free hand.

Much to your surprise, Christen suddenly slips off the sink surprising you by backing you up against the door.

“You don’t get to have all the fun.” She whispers into your mouth, spreading your legs with her own before slipping it between them.

You throw your head back, letting out a groan when the woman rolls her hips, her thigh rubbing between your legs.

“Fuck.” Christen sighs, when you bend your leg, thigh now between her legs. Her fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the base of your neck as the two of you rut into one another.

You let out a deep moan that makes the woman shiver.

“God, fucking, do that again.” She sighs, relishing in the sound of your raspy moans.

“Chris...” You sigh, ducking your head and burying your face in her neck as your hips rock harder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Christen cries out, turning her head to hide her face against the side of your head.

“God Chris, ugh...”

Christen cries out, body shaking as she cums, your hold on her tightening as she quivers in your arms.

Christen’s arms wrap tightly around you as stars explode behind your eyes, your orgasm tearing through you, the sound of Christen’s climax prolonging your orgasm as the two of your rock slower, helping each other down from your highs.

The two of you pant heavily, your lips meeting softly, kisses less sloppy and more passionate.

Christen’s bottom lip ends up between yours and you pepper it with tender kisses, so soft it makes the woman weak at her knees from more than just her orgasms.

“Fuck, that was...” Christen sighs and you grin.

“Amazing.” You sigh, your voice affectionate rather than cocky.

You turn your head, kissing Christen’s cheek over and over again until the woman giggles.

“So uhhhh...” You swallow hard, glancing anywhere in the bathroom other than at Christen’s face.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, frowning, hoping you don’t think what the two of you had done is a mistake.

“Do you uhhh....” You bite your lip. “Want to go on a date with me?” You ask and Christen smacks your chest.

“Christ, don’t scare me like that, I thought you were going to say you regretted it.” She lets out a relieved sigh.

“No! Not a chance! I could never regret...” Your cheeks flush. “Doing that, with you...” You mumble and Christen giggles, kissing your lips.

“Do you always act like this after sex?” She snorts and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No...” You shrug. “But it’s not every day you get to... See someone as beautiful as you...” You lean in, your lips brushing hers. “Cum in their arms.”

Christen shudders as you duck your head, sucking on her pulse point.

“Wait, wait.” Christen puts her hand on your chest and you pull back with a frown.

Christen cups your cheeks, leaning up to kiss your lips.

“We should take this back to the hotel...” She whispers and you grin, cheeks flushed.

“You read my mind.”

You turn around, ready to leave the bathroom but you stop, turning to face Christen.

“I’m sorry... For how I’ve been acting...” You whisper, Christen’s brows furrowing.

“I... I thought you were with Tobin, and I just... I thought I could use other women to ignore it...” You cup her cheeks. “But I couldn’t, I only ever wanted you.”

Your thumb runs along her cheekbone, the woman’s eyes fluttering shut.

“And you’re all I’ve ever wanted.” She whispers as she kisses the palm of your hand.

Your eyes glaze over as your eyes dart around Christen’s face, your lips splitting in a grin.

“We need to get back to the hotel.” You whisper, leaning in to press a warm kiss to her lips. “I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you and I don’t want to have sex in a club bathroom... Again. I want to make love to you in a bed.”

Christen presses a fierce kiss to her lips before bumping her nose against yours.

“Well Y/N? What are we waiting for?” She asks and you grin, literally tearing the bathroom door open and darting out with Christen on your heels.

Your teammates cheer from across the club when they see you and Christen rushing out of the bar hand in hand.

“GET IT Y/N!”

“Shit.” Christen shivers when you get outside, making you turn around abruptly.

“What?” You ask worriedly and Christen shudders.

“I forgot my underwear in the bathroom.”

You bark out a laugh, throwing your head back.

“Tomorrow Christen Press’s panties are going to be on eBay.”

“Shut up Y/N.”

“I mean I’d buy your underwear.”

"Jesus Christ Y/N, you better shut up or I’m going to sleep when we get back to the hotel.”

“Yes ma’am, you got it, shutting up now.”

#uswnt #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #christen press #christen press x reader #christen press imagine

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mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years

Text

perfect | jj maybank x oc

summary: She’s the kook princess. He’s the pogue prince. They weren’t meant to end up together, but unexpected things can sometimes turn out perfect.

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of drugs and drug addictions, mentions of sex and nudity, angst, fluff, not completed

(gif credit to the owner)

intro prologue part one part two

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

Gracie can already hear the music playing from the beach, despite being a good distance away. She can also feel her stomach doing flip flops as her anxiety consumes her, her mind instantly going to her messy nails she was desperately trying to hide.

Sasha and Emily are on either side of her, obliviously talking about a new show they are both watching. Gracie bites her lip as she nervously pulls down the short, pastel skirt she had on. Her mother had criticized her outfit before she left her house, telling her that people would think she is a slut if she continues to dress the way she does.

Gracie lets out a breath, gently shaking her head, burying her anxiety deep inside as she and her posse arrive at the party.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone waving at her.

“Hey, Gracie.” She recognized the boy from her math class last year. He was a sweet kid named Vincent, who had tremendously helped her with algebra.

Her hand itched to wave back, but instead, Gracie rolled her eyes, continuing forward.

“Do you know that weirdo,” Emily asked incredulously.

Gracie scoffed. “As if I would be hanging out with someone like that.”

Her heart fell, knowing that Vincent could hear their conversation, but she covered it with a smirk, letting her green eyes filter over the crowd. She noticed a group of people standing around the keg and she began to walk over there. Normally, Gracie wouldn't drink, especially not the cheap beer the pogues supply, but she was in desperate need of something to distract her.

As she approached the keg, Gracie noticed it was manned by none other than Pope Hayward and JJ Maybank.

Gracie had never really spoken to Pope, but his father had catered for several of her father's events. She knew that he was a smart kid and he wasn't bad on the eyes. As far as she knew, he wasn't bad.

If there was anyone on this island who had a bigger reputation than her, it would be JJ Maybank. He was gorgeous, attracting every girl who was blessed enough to see him, including Gracie. The girl couldn't deny her attraction to the blond-haired surfer.

He's wearing his typical wife-beater tank top paired with black cargo shorts. It's the opposite of something any kook would wear and Gracie is loving it.

“Kook Princess,” JJ addressed with a smirk as they stepped up the keg. Noticing her friends he added, “And company.”

Yet again, Gracie had to force herself not to roll her eyes at his flirtatious behavior.

“Can I interest you in a taste of Milwaukee beverage?” the blonde asked sarcastically, his outstretched hand holding the filled red solo cup.

“Yes,” Gracie responded confidently, lifting her chin slightly while still maintaining eye contact with the blue-eyed boy.

Even JJ’s eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't too often people saw the queen kook drinking. Gracie reached out to grab the cup, dying to drown away her worries in shitty beer, but before she could grab it, JJ reacted, pulling the cup further away.

“Ah, ah, ah,” JJ said sneakily, lightly lifting his pointer finger off the cup to shake it, “What's the magic word, Princess?”

Gracie opens her mouth, already ready with a witty response, only to be cut off by a voice she has come to hate.

“Watch who you're talking to, dirty pogue,” Rafe says to JJ, slinging an arm over Gracie’s shoulders.

He wreaked of cologne and this time Gracie couldn't help but give an eye roll. Realizing what she did, the girl bit her lip, hoping that no one saw her slip up. But someone did, the blue-eyed boy who hasn't taken his eyes off the brunette girl since she got here.

“Here you go milady,” JJ says, handing her the red solo cup with a slight bow, completely ignoring Rafe’s presence.

“Thanks,” Gracie said, giving JJ an unreadable look.

Before either of them could get another word in, Rafe practically dragged the girl away, leading her to a group of kooks she was all too familiar with. Gracie spots her older brother amongst the crowd, mentally groaning at the sight. She should have guessed it. Wherever Rafe is, Gavin isn't too far behind. The two of them have been best buds since high school and now they are in business school together.

Assholes. Gracie thought with a giggle.

Throughout the night, she stayed in the group. Never leaving to dance or get a new drink, however, her cup was never empty for too long. Rafe seemed to be taking advantage of the fact that the girl was drinking and he was constantly bringing her more.

“Hey, wanna get out of here,” Gracie heard his sluggish voice in her ear. Turning to face Rafe, she notices that his eyes are bloodshot and her jaw clenches realizing that he is probably coked out.

Gracie shakes her head, taking another sip out of her cup. “Not tonight, Rafe.” She did not want to put up with his bullshit right now.

Rafe quickly unwraps his arm from her shoulder, pushing her away. “Bitch,” he says, walking away and quickly taking interest in a tall blonde touron.

Gracie stands up as her eyes fill with tears, deciding to go home. She stumbles through the blurry crowd like a newborn deer.

Fuck. she thought. I'm shitfaced.

As she walks away from the crowd the music becomes quieter and quieter. Gracie has no clue where she is. Somewhere on the cut?

Before she knows it she's stumbling up to a house she doesn't recognize, the red solo cup still in hand. She spots a figure emerge out of the doorway and onto

the porch.

Great. This is how I die.

“Gracie?” the voice questions, but it all sounds hazy to her.

Well, that's fantastic. The murderer knows my name.

The person walks down the porch steps and towards her body. JJ. Her shoulders sag in relief at the sight of the blonde-haired boy. When he gets to her, Gracie immediately falls into his arms, JJ barely catching her before she falls to the ground.

“Gracie,” he says again, his tone clearly confused, “Are you drunk?”

Gracie pulls away from his strong arms with a sniffle to look into the blue eyes she suddenly craves so much.

“Shit. Are you crying?”

The green-eyed girl doesn't respond, too lost in his ocean eyes.

“Okay,” JJ says, holding her shoulders and clearly nervous, “I'm gonna get you home, m’kay.”

Gracie quickly shakes her head at the words.

“Okay,” he says thoughtfully, “You can't go home. Where should I take you?”

Without responding, Gracie leans up on her tippy toes, pressing her lips sloppily to JJ’s. The kiss is messy and rushed, but it's the best one she's ever had. Her hands reach up to tangle in his hair, deepening the kiss. She can taste the alcohol and weed on his lips, so she knows he's not sober either.

JJ suddenly pulls away, leaning his forehead on hers as her hands fall to his neck, playing with the hem of his top, both of them breathing heavily.

“Gracie, you're drunk.”

Gracie hums. “No,” she presses another kiss to his lips, mumbling into them, “I've wanted this for a long time.”

It's not exactly a lie. Any girl on this island would be lying if they haven't thought about sleeping with the hot blonde.

It's JJ this time who deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on the small of her back. Gracie gasps when she feels him grab her ass, allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth.

She's feeling euphoric as JJ leads her up the stairs and into the house.

The place is trashed. Takeout boxes and beer bottles litter the floor and tables as the smell of weed fills all of her senses. But for some reason, she wouldn't have it any different.

Gracie is pulled back into reality when she feels herself being pushed back onto a bed, JJ’s amazing lips working wonders against hers. Her mind fills with questions of what the hell she is doing, but she pushes them aside when JJ starts kissing down her jaw and neck, definitely leaving a few marks.

“Are you sure,” he asks, stopping above the waist of her skirt, his eyes lifting to meet hers.

Gracie nods with a smirk, pulling his lips back down to meet hers.

#jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj fic #jj x oc #jj x reader #outer banks #john b routledge #outer banks fic #outer banks series #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #rafe fic

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restapesta · 4 years

Text

Spencer Reid / One Shots (1) - Doctor, Agent, Professor

A Spencer Reid fan fiction (one shot) that takes place a couple of months after the series finale:

The BAU team was well aware of the fact that Spencer was teaching when he wasn't working the cases, and one of the things they had been dying to do was witness it themselves. So, one day, when they had no cases and a lot of free time, they decided to "sneak in" to one of his lectures.

A near-death experience made Spencer Reid rethink most of his life's choices, if not all of them. After two weeks of pondering over his life, both professional and social, while recovering from his injury, he had concluded that Maeve was absolutely right. Perhaps it wasn't Maeve exactly, but rather his subconscious mind just taking the form of his late girlfriend, but she - or it - was right nevertheless - he needed to do what made him happy.

Spencer wasn't ready to leave the team yet. It was his home, and he loved his job too much to just pack up and give it up for good. The thought made him cringe - being a profiler was something he loved, so it was only natural he continued to do it. The danger would probably never disappear, but at least he wouldn't feel empty inside.

But, being a part of the BAU wasn't the only thing that brought joy to his life. During the time he spent in the hospital, stuck with the nurses and his messed up brain, he realized his passions lay elsewhere, as well. It wasn't only being in the FBI that gave him purpose. He even said it himself - he loved many things - jello, books, fiddling with his pen, learning. And he most certainly, above all, loved teaching.

The reason he started working as a professor in the FBI academy was anything but a happy one - he was forced to do it. Barnes had placed him as a full-time professor, taking him off the team. Although he hated it at first - being stuck teaching instead of saving lives and helping his friends - he grew to love it. It was a thrill, being able to share his knowledge with young students who share the same passion for profiling, crime, and helping people like he did at that age. It was something he was meant to do, Spencer supposed. What would all this knowledge do him good if he didn't pass it on?

The decision to become a professor and a BAU's consultant was a tactical one, but it was also a decision that made Spencer happy. He enjoyed being able to teach, and with it have more time off, as well as being able to help with cases and stay an FBI agent. His time was split between classes and cases, and he tried to organize it as best as he could. He would join the team on as many cases as he could but would also attempt to hold as many classes as he was physically able to, all while attempting to keep his sanity. It was working out so far.

The team had a few rough cases in the past month and Spencer was itching to get away from it all, just for a little bit. It was just his luck that the BAU had some downtime this week and that he was able to spend some time away from the crime scenes and focus more on his social life and other jobs.

It was the first class Spencer had been able to hold in the past month, so he spent some time choosing the topic and preparing for it. He wanted to talk about behavioral analysis, a subject he had only slightly touched upon. He hadn't felt the class was ready for it yet, but, based on everything he had taught them so far, he was certain that it was only fitting for them to finally receive a lecture on how to take a deep dive into the minds of the most vicious killers through their victims. He was fairly excited about it.

The class was pouring in, filling up the seats of the auditorium, leaving only a few of them empty. At first, the classes had only a dozen or more students, but now, it was rare for the auditorium not to be full. And Spencer was extremely happy that only a handful of the students were auditing, unlike at the beginning of his teaching career.

He rarely surveyed the faces in the crowd - he felt uncomfortable doing so, mostly because of some of the looks he would receive from the female - and sometimes male - students. He felt it was just better to keep his eyes unfocused. He trusted his mind would be able to pinpoint unusual behavior.

For a few moments, he waited for the students to settle down. Then, checking his watch to make sure it was the right time, he took a deep breath and began.

The group of friends, colleagues, and teammates had been planning this for a very long time. It was only convenient for them to have very little work this week and be able to finally make their plans a reality.

The planning began a month after Reid had committed himself to teaching. He was still a bit loopy from his injury, but as always, the genius was ready to get back into the game. But, from what the team was able to deduce, he was gone almost as much as he was there. Everyone knew he was only a phone call away, but as an essential member of the BAU, and as the one who was there almost always, it was weird seeing him away.

What was even weirder was seeing that the awkward, antisocial doctor was spending his time away teaching in front of a group of very judgmental teenagers and students in their early twenties. They needed to witness it.

And so, the team piled up along with the other young men and women, seating themselves in the far back of the classroom. They wanted to remain inconspicuous, as not to put pressure on Reid, but, by the looks of it, he didn't even notice.

Tara turned in her seat to look at Emily who was getting something out of her bag. "What is that?" Her voice was muffled by the sounds of backpacks being placed on chairs and notebooks being taken out.

Emily smiled slightly. "Popcorn,"

Luke cast a weird look towards his Unit chief and friend. "Popcorn?"

Emily pointed at a water bottle in her lap. "And water. You know, since I couldn't bring wine."

He gave a shake of his head, looking towards Tara and JJ who were sitting next to one another.

"I wish Penelope was here." JJ sighed. "She would love this."

Luke let out a chuckle. "You know she wanted to be here, but, her job's been keeping her away. She loves it, though - says she wouldn't change it for the world."

"Good for her." Rossi piped in, eyes glued to the whiteboard which was filled with Spencer's handwriting.

"Rossi? What are you staring at so intently? You look like you're at a shooting range, all you need is a gun." JJ questioned, making Dave smile. The others chuckled as they waited for a reply.

"You see that board right there?" He pointed at the board in the center of the room. "Judging by the things written on there, and knowing Spence, I have a feeling this is going to be good."

"Well, I'm excited." Luke shifted in his seat, making Emily nod, mouth filled with popcorn.

The room was starting to grow silent. Rossi took a lot at his watch - 9:58 AM. He knew Reid was a very punctual man, so he expected to class to start in no less than two minutes. He smiled to himself.

"Oh my God, I can't wait!" The girl sitting a row down from the team whisper-shouted loud in enough for the people surrounding her to hear. Emily raised her eyebrows, glancing towards Tara and JJ.

"Shh! He's an FBI agent. If you continue acting like that, he'll read you like a book." Her friend replied, all while applying lip gloss.

"I wish he did." The girl said in a sultry voice, making Tara and JJ exchange a look. Alvez made a snorting sound but quickly covered it up with his hand.

"Are they talking about --" he started, but JJ was quick to cut him off.

"Yup."

He let out a low chuckle, making Tara snicker. JJ's heart clenched slightly, but she pushed her thoughts away. The class was about to begin.

The room grew noticeably quieter. No whispering among classmates, no additional browsing through backpacks and notebooks - the attention of the entire auditorium was solely placed to the front. Rossi took another glance at his watch. It was exactly ten.

The moment Spencer walked into the room, all eyes went to him. Rossi knew he wasn't used to the attention, and he wondered how he reacted to it. He himself never had a problem with it, but he held a couple of seminars with Reid and there was a slight fear that he'd react in a way that would earn him zero respect as a professor. But Dave was also a profiler, and he knew, judging the way Spencer carried himself walking into the room, the fear was completely unnecessary.

"For the past month, we've been discussing all things criminology, but for today, I thought it would be nice for us to move on to a more challenging subject - a subject most of you are here for, I presume. Can anyone tell me what behavioral analysis is?"

Hands shot up across the entire room, and so did Luke's, before JJ elbowed him in the ribs, making him begrudgingly put it down. "You wouldn't have known the answer anyway." She answered his unasked question. Emily snickered, offering him his popcorn, which he gladly took.

"Yes?" He pointed at a girl in the front row.

"I guess it's what profilers use to detect certain anomalies in behavior and uncover secrets people may be hiding." It was obvious she was really nervous, but Spencer nodded while she answered, making her more confident with how she formulated her answer.

"Essentially, yes, that's the premise, but the actual definition slightly differs." His hands moved around him as he explained, "Behavior analysis is a natural science that seeks to understand the behavior of individuals. That is, behavior analysts study how biological, pharmacological, and experiential factors influence the behavior of humans and nonhuman animals."

"What do behavioral analysts do, actually?"

"Focused on teaching others how to collect data to create a therapeutic environment, behavior analysts write reports and implement plans to improve support programs. They teach support professionals, parents, and teachers different ways to implement behavior support plans, procedures, and skills."

"Dr. Reid, is this going to be on the exam?"

He released a sigh, slightly annoyed by the interruption. "As I've already said multiple times, everything we discuss in these classes is of importance, but to make this slightly interesting here's an assignment for all of you enrolled in the class - based on everything we'll be learning throughout the next couple of classes on the subject of behavioral analysis, I want you to attempt to profile what I'm going to put on the exam. You can write it down, remember it, share it with a friend - whatever you want. If you get it right, you'll get extra credit. And, because of that, unfortunately, asking me this type of question would be cheating. Should we continue now?"

"Wouldn't it be more fun if we tried to profile you?" The female student twirled her hair around her finger absentmindedly, gazing towards the doctor.

He smiled, "You can try, but only if you actually pay attention will you be able to get close to the truth." He shot her a pointed look, and the students chuckled as she started to blush. "Now, let's move on."

Tara leaned in and whispered to JJ, "He's really good at this,"

"Yeah," Luke nodded along with JJ.

Rossi just stared intently at Spencer who was now talking about the ways the behavioral analysis was used in FBI. He noticed how confident he was, and how passionately he talked about his job. There was only one way he could describe what he was feeling watching Spencer - he was immensely proud of him.

When the first hour passed, Spencer decided it was enough for the day. He knew that statistically, students could only go on for so long listening to what he had to say. "I think we've gone through enough today, we'll definitely continue off next time. Thank you, guys." He made his way towards his satchel, aware of the students packing up, and leaving the auditorium.

Suddenly, his phone went off. Max's name popped up on the screen, and his face lit up with joy. He didn't waste time answering the call. "Hey, you. What's up?"

Her voice was sweet on the other side, "Nothing much. Just calling in to check on my favorite doctor."

His smile grew. "I just finished a class. Want to meet up, get lunch?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Let's meet at the park, in like, thirty minutes?"

"It's a date."

She chuckled on the other side, "Sure is. See you soon, bye."

"Bye."

"Was that Max?" Rossi's voice made Reid look up from his phone. A smile was plastered on his face.

"Yeah, it was." He noticed his team piling up around his desk which only made his mood better. "Why didn't you guys tell me you were coming? I would've given you VIP seats." He joked.

Tara shot him a quizzical look, "You don't seem surprised to see us."

"Oh, I just kind of guessed it was a matter of time before you showed up."

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

JJ intercepted before Spencer could answer. "When did you know we were here?"

His eyebrows knitted together as if she asked a weird question. "When you walked in?"

"We were trying to be inconspicuous!" Tara exclaimed.

"With Emily eating her popcorn, I think the whole room noticed you."

Emily chuckled. "Guilty as charged. But, I can make it up to you by taking you out for lunch. C'mon, let's go!"

"Yes, I'm starving," Tara added.

"Actually, I can't come with."

"Why, Spence? You got plans?" Rossi asked, poking a little fun at him.

Spencer smiled knowingly. "Actually, yes. I'm taking my wonderful girlfriend out for lunch. You guys wanna join?"

Emily shook her head no, "Nope, you go out and have some fun. Say hi to Max for us."

Spencer nodded, "I will."

"Well, I think we'll head out now. Great lecture, man." Luke tapped Spencer on the shoulder.

"It was amazing," Tara confirmed.

"Couldn't agree more," Emily added.

"Stop guys, you're making him blush." JJ joked, hugging him goodbye.

Rossi stayed back as the team made their way outside. "That was great, Spencer."

"Thank you, Dave."

"I think Gideon would be proud." He smiled at him one last time, before leaving along with the rest of the team.

Spencer took a deep breath, put his satchel around his torso, and smiled.

Thank you, Maeve.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #emily prentiss #luke alvez #tara lewis #david rossi #jennifer jereau #dr reid #dr spencer reid

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