#FBI fanfic

[fopdoodle99]

I will start by saying I love Maggie and OA together. Next I am in traffic about 3 hours a day (going to and from school) and these are the things I think about.

1- how long did Maggie stay in the hospital? long term stay or transfer to rehab center

2- did her family come from Indiana and help with rehab? If so, did they meet OA? What were their interactions like?

3- what if she went back to Indiana to complete her rehab so her family could help her?

4- in the episode with the terrorist from OA's past, he went to therapy. What was that session like and did he continue to go?

5- what were Maggie's therapy sessions like?

Just wondering what other people think. Thanks for the input.

[openheart12]

This Is Me Trying

Summary: During her recovery, OA was always there for her. But when he thinks she's pushing herself too far, he's quick to step in. 

WC: 1,007

When she heard the key in the lock turn and open, she would’ve grabbed her gun if she hadn’t known what time it was. He was on time, as always. She was curled up on the couch, watching some show she had found based on the FBI. The last couple hours had consisted of her pointing out all of the discrepancies. If only the job was as easy as it looked like in the shows.

“They were out of the blueberry muffins, but the girl said the raspberry one was the next best one so if you hate it, it’s not my fault,” he said, handing her the bag with the pastry and the cup of coffee.

“Oat milk?” She asked, taking the food from him.

“I don’t have a death wish, Maggie,” he laughed.

She smiled in return. “Thank you.”

OA had been coming to her apartment every single day since she got out of the hospital. Some nights, particularly on rougher ones, he’d spend the night. Every morning before he left to go to work, he’d drop by her local coffee shop along his way.

It had been a long road to recovery, seven months and she was just now getting the clearance to go back to work. She hadn’t mentioned it to OA yet because she knew he would be worried and be overprotective and as much as she loved it, she needed to get out of her apartment. She started to go stir crazy at the two month mark, her sanity was almost completely gone now. The only thing keeping her sane was OA’s daily trips to see her.

“What are you watching?” He asked, turning his attention to the tv.

“It’s called FBI and trust me, it’s nothing like what we actually do. Apparently they have a consultant from the FBI who helps them with the different cases to make it more accurate. Can you imagine getting paid to do that?”

“They probably make more than the both of us combined still,” he joked as his phone rang. “Zidan,” he answered.

“Hey, it’s me. I tried calling Maggie, but it went straight to voicemail and I was wondering what time she was going to be here tomorrow.”

“I’ll ask her and get back to you,” he replied before hanging up the phone. “Isobel wanted to know what time you’re coming in tomorrow.” He met her gaze, but she looked away. “What aren’t you telling me? Are you coming back to work?”

“I was thinking about it, I was going to talk to Isobel about it tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “I knew you would worry.”

“Are you even ready to be back in the field?”

At that, she snapped her eyes to him. “I’m sure.” She hated being treated like a victim.

“It’s only been seven months, recovery can take over a year.”

She shook her head, pushing herself up off the couch, feeling her eyes start to tear. “No one knows that better than me, OA. I lived through it, it’s constantly in my head and I… I need to go back to work.” She leaned up against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself.

He paused to gather his thoughts before speaking. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too much,” he explained, getting up and walking over to her. “I do worry about you, you’re my best friend and I…” he trailed off.

“And what?” She prodded.

“And… I want what’s best for you.” That was the furthest thing from the truth and he didn’t miss the disappointment that crossed her face. The urge to tell her how he really felt only grew after he thought he was going to lose her. She had come so close to death and it would’ve been his fault. The first time he saw sarin gas take the life of his friend had haunted him then and still does, but after seeing it almost take Maggie… that was something he never wanted to see again or think about.

“I know,” she replied softly, “but I’m ready. I promise.”

“Okay,” he said finally. Glancing down at his work, he noticed he had to leave if he wanted to be on time. “I can pick you up tomorrow morning if you want,” he offered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled before he left. And she was left alone with her thoughts again.

The thoughts of that day kept replaying in her mind like a broken record. When OA had accused her of having a death wish, she knew she was being reckless. Driving that bomb away and with only seconds to spare before she would’ve been dead, she didn’t care. Not really. But staring death directly in the face made her realize just how much she wanted to live.

Ever since Jason’s death, one of the few people she cared about was OA and seeing the desperation in his face trying to break the glass in the lab, trying so hard to get to her changed her entire outlook. He was there every step of the way while she was in recovery, he’d spend days in the hospital with her. Sitting with her, holding her hand, cracking jokes to get her mind off of it, getting takeout so she wouldn’t have to eat the hospital food.

It reminded her of how incredibly lucky she was to have him. And how incredibly hard it would be if she ever lost him. When they were talking earlier and he had paused, she thought there was a slight chance that he felt the same way she did.

But it was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. Even if everything in her body screamed at her to tell him. Losing her partner, her best friend, was something she couldn’t recover from.

Tomorrow, everything will go back to normal. She hoped she was as ready as she felt and the anxiety she was feeling would go away. Ready or not, he would be there to help her.

[dazzlingstarlight]

Hi! Thank you so much for your interaction. :) I’m working on my answer to your ask rn, but in the meantime lemme send you one in return! :D Do you post your fics on AO3, or maybe FFN?

Hi! Yes, you can find me as TwilightPony21 on AO3! I think most of my Tumblr prompts have made it over there now, and you'll find that I write a lot of Maggie/OA. 😊 But I've also tried occasional prompts for some of the other characters (Scola is one of my favorites even though I find him so hard to write). I hope you'll stop by and read a few if you have a chance. Thanks for reading and thanks for the ask!

[altankatt]

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/altankatt/part-11-chapter-18

Thank you for reading.

[captain-penguin2]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: FBI (TV 2018) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nina Chase/Stuart Scola Characters: Nina Chase, Stuart Scola Additional Tags: elevator scene, nina decides what she want to do Summary:

scolina elevator scene

Nina’s big decision

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Hey! I’d love a one-shot where Hotch is really protective over the reader, who’s been getting some unwanted attention from someone at work. Maybe she’s a bit younger and new to the team, and she’s always been close with Hotch, but lately, he’s noticed that someone’s been making her uncomfortable. I’d love to see how Hotch handles it, especially since he’s been realizing he has feelings for her. Lots of protective Hotch vibes, maybe a little angst, but definitely some fluff and maybe a confession at the end. Thanks so much!

Of course lovely!!

Title: “Shield of Silence”

Pt2

You weren’t sure when it started, but the pit in your stomach had been growing for weeks now. At first, it had just been lingering looks—nothing overtly inappropriate but just enough to make your skin crawl. You’d brush it off, thinking you were imagining things, but the feeling only intensified as time passed. It was like being watched constantly, a gaze that clung to you when you least expected it.

It was your third month with the BAU, and although you were still adjusting, you felt like you’d finally found your place among the team. Spencer had been a wealth of knowledge, always eager to share some obscure fact or statistics. JJ had quickly become like an older sister, guiding you through the maze of FBI procedures and office politics. And then there was Aaron Hotchner—your unit chief, your mentor, and more recently, the person you found yourself gravitating towards the most.

Hotch had been nothing but professional with you, but there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. You admired his leadership, the way he commanded respect without demanding it, and his quiet but unwavering sense of justice. More than once, you’d caught yourself staring at him, wondering what it would be like to cross that line between professional and personal. But you always pushed those thoughts aside—he was your boss, after all.

Lately, however, you found yourself needing his presence more than usual. There was someone on the team who was making you uncomfortable, someone who lingered a little too close, who spoke a little too softly when he was near you. It was subtle—nothing you could report without feeling like you were making a mountain out of a molehill. But you knew it wasn’t just in your head.

The elevator ride that morning had been the final straw. You were alone, checking your phone, when you felt the presence beside you. Your stomach twisted as he moved closer, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. You stepped away, mumbling an excuse about needing to review a case file, and practically fled to your desk.

It wasn’t until you were safely seated that you noticed Hotch watching you, his brows furrowed with concern. He’d always been perceptive, but this time, his gaze felt like it was peeling back the layers you’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

“Y/N,” his voice was low as he approached you, leaning on the edge of your desk. “Is everything alright?”

You forced a smile, trying to mask the anxiety churning in your gut. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Hotch didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “If anything’s bothering you, you can always come to me. You know that, right?”

You nodded, grateful for his concern but unwilling to drag him into something that might just be a product of your overactive imagination. “I know, Hotch. Thank you.”

But Hotch wasn’t the kind of man to let things go easily, especially when it came to his team. Later that day, as the team gathered in the conference room for a briefing, you noticed that Hotch had positioned himself closer to you than usual. It was subtle—just a shift in his usual place—but it felt like a protective barrier, a silent assurance that he was there if you needed him.

The meeting went smoothly, but as it wrapped up, the same coworker who’d been making you uncomfortable sidled up beside you, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that made your skin crawl. Before you could step away, Hotch was there, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Y/N, I need you to stay back for a moment. We need to go over the details of the Montgomery case.”

The man beside you stiffened, his eyes flickering between you and Hotch, but he said nothing as he backed away. You watched him leave, your heart pounding in your chest.

When the room was finally empty, Hotch turned to you, his dark eyes filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it?”

You swallowed, nodding reluctantly. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I thought maybe I was overreacting.”

Hotch shook his head, his jaw clenched. “You’re not overreacting. If someone’s making you uncomfortable, it’s my job to protect you. I don’t take that lightly.”

There was something in his tone that made your heart ache, a protective edge that spoke of more than just professional duty. “Hotch, I—”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush your arm where the other man had touched you. The gesture was tender, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not when I care about you as much as I do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your mind racing to process what he’d just said. “You… care about me?”

Hotch’s eyes softened, the usual hardness melting away to reveal something far more vulnerable. “I care about you more than I should, given our positions. But I can’t help it. I need you to be safe, Y/N.”

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken feelings. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to a truth you hadn’t been ready to face. But as you looked into Hotch’s eyes, saw the sincerity there, you felt the walls you’d built around yourself begin to crumble.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your hand resting on his chest. “I feel the same way,” you admitted softly. “I’ve tried to ignore it, but… I can’t anymore.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with the tension of words left unsaid. But then, Hotch’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“Let me take care of this,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “Thank you, Hotch.”

He smiled—a rare, genuine smile that lit up his usually stoic features. “You can call me Aaron, you know.”

Your own smile mirrored his as you felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the lingering tension. “Okay… Aaron.”

The moment was perfect, the beginning of something new and fragile, but full of promise. As he pulled you into a comforting embrace, you knew that whatever happened next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt safe.

[zylev-blog]

Jazz is Special Agent Fenton of the FBI. She doesn’t go by Fenton when she’s out on a case though; she uses Nightingale. She does this because it keeps her identity secret.

Jazz is investigating a series of crimes. One of the other agents goes undercover to try and set them up in a sting operation. Things go south and now Jazz is going to Gotham to view the murder scene.

When she gets there, GCPD try to stop her at the crime scene barrier. She flashes her FBI jacket and her badge and is given access. She walks over to the police commissioner, a man named Gordon. Gordon obviously doesn’t recognize her, and neither does the vigilante with him—Batman.

“This is a closed crime scene, Miss…?” Gordon asks.

“Nightingale. FBI.” She shows Gordon her badge. “You and your men can clear out. This is our jurisdiction now.”

“We haven’t gotten approval to—“ Gordon stops, but was interrupted by an officer walking over to Gordon and whispering something in his ear. “Fine.” Gordon grumbled, and started telling his men to leave.

“You too, Spooky. I don’t need a vigilante’s help.” She waves off the man without another thought, but Batman doesn’t move. Instead, he completely ignores her and starts walking towards the crime scene. “Obviously, you didn’t hear me.” Jazz scowled. “If you don’t leave, I will remove you with force, Batman.”

Batman turns to look at her. “That isn’t how things work here, Agent Nightingale.”

“It is now.” She kept her expression neutral. “Clear out, or be removed. Your choice.”

Batman tried to look intimidating. Jazz refused to bow. The two stared each other down before Batman took another step towards the crime scene. She reacted instantly. Pulling out a taser, she placed it on his back before he could even react.

He reacted quickly, and sent three batarangs at her in rapid succession. His movements were a bit slower than normal after getting tased. She dodged two of the batarangs, and opted to catch the third in her hand. She flicked it away lazily and cracked her knuckles with a small smile. “I love it when they choose force.”

Batman didn’t react to her comment. He seemed to understand he wasn’t going to be able to get around her without a major fight. He let out an annoyed grunt and grappled away.

Three days later, they meet on the roof of an abandoned building. It seems like Batman was still on the case after all. Jazz was not happy about it. She felt that he was going to ruin the entire operation. She couldn’t trust someone to have her back if they didn’t show their face. She doesn’t let the annoyance show on her face as Batman joins her at the edge of the rooftop.

“I thought I told you to stay off my case, Batman.” She said quietly.

Batman gave a quiet grunt. If she had to put it to words, it would translate to a ‘I do what I want.’

She didn’t speak to him again, but she didn’t kick him out, either. The two didn’t speak a word as they sat for two hours, inspecting the warehouse across the street. It was nearly morning by the time Batman left. She did make sure he left, too—she watched him grapple down the street and heard the roar of the Batmobile pulling away before she breathed out a sigh of relief.

Watching the building was doing nothing. She was going to have to get closer. She was going to have to go undercover herself. The thought didn’t make her any happier, even with knowing what happened to the last agent that went undercover for this operation. She also knew that to keep her tracker on her at all times, she would need to shove it inside a place that nobody would look for it. And boy was that uncomfortable.

Two days after she met Batman did she meet Brucie Wayne for the first time. By now she had been undercover with the modeling agency for a day, and it was going well so far. She was playing her part perfectly, but it could take weeks for them to trust her enough to give her information that she needed to know.

She had been hired to be arm candy for a wealthy man in Gotham. It wasn’t Brucie, though she knew he had a few models on his arms as well. She had gotten through most of the night without incident before she ran into Brucie. Quite literally. Brucie’s champagne spilled down her dress, and she gave a mock scream of outrage.

Brucie tried to clean up her dress, but she swatted his hands away and went to the bathroom to clean up. She never noticed the tracker that Bruce put on the nape of her neck. When she came back out, she noticed her date looking for her. She rejoined him and the rest of the night went smoothly.

A month into the operation and she finally was getting some results. She had been moved from building to building more than once, but she finally got breadcrumbs for what she needed to take them down. It took her another three weeks after that to gather all of the evidence she needed.

At the final takedown, she was joined by none other than Batman. She had half-expected him to show up after she noticed the tracker on her neck six hours after it was placed. She didn’t know when she had even run into the Batman at a stuffy charity gala. She had debated crushing it, but she didn’t have backup and she figured his help was better than nothing. She still didn’t trust him, though. She made sure he knew that, too.

Bringing the tracker up to her lips, she whispered, “Don’t you know it’s rude to listen in on a lady, Batman?”

Together, she and Batman took down the traffickers. They had been using models and trafficking them all over the world to be used as sex slaves. She feels a certain satisfaction while watching everyone be escorted out in cuffs.

“Nice work.” Batman says, figure tall and dark.

She hums. “Thanks.” The silence stretches on for a few minutes before she adds in, “Thanks for having my back.”

“I thought you didn’t need a vigilante’s help?” Batman teased.

She didn’t look at him, but she could hear the teasing on his voice. She smirks and crosses her arms. “I don’t. But you’re harder to get rid of than a ghost in a net.”

Batman didn’t respond back to her, and it takes her a few moments to realize what she had said. She was of course, referencing her parents ghosthunting activities. But he didn’t even know her real name, so how would he even know what he was talking about?

“When do you leave?” Batman asked.

“After everything’s wrapped up. Why, you going to miss me?” She finally turned to look at him. She wished she could run facial recognition and figure out who was under that mask. The psychologist in her wanted to know just why a man would put on a bat mask and fight crime.

“I have a case that could use your input.” Batman deflected her question.

Was that a compliment from the Batman? His way of telling her that he trusted her opinion? Or was it an olive branch?

“Mine or the FBI’s?” She already knew the answer to his question, but she wanted him to say it.

Instead, he just grunted in annoyance. She rolled her eyes and pulled a card out of the pouch that she kept her FBI id at and handed it to him. “That’s my office phone number.” She tapped the card with her finger as he held it. “If you want my personal cell, you’ve got to earn it.”

He nodded and tucked the card into his utility belt. She could see the beginnings of a smile from Batman as he disappeared into the shadows and grappled away.

Surprisingly, it only took Batman a week to call her. She had gotten settled back into her office in DC, and had mostly forgotten about the encounter. She had to report Batman’s appearance in her report, but beyond that, she didn’t have to explain that he helped her take down the ring.

She made a flight back to Gotham the next day. Batman brought her into the Batcave and told her everything she needed to know about the case. She didn’t know where the Batcave was, as Batman had blindfolded her, but she was impressed with his initiative.

“Im not wearing that.” She glared at him with all of the venom she had—which was quite a lot.

“You can’t go out in your FBI jacket.” Batman deadpanned.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Do you think I’m a rookie?” She shook her head and gestured at the costume that the vigilante had made for her. “That doesn’t give you the right to—to—ugh! Im not your Batgirl, or Batwoman, or whatever! I came out as a consult. I don’t dress up in latex, and I don’t wear costumes!”

The costume itself was gorgeous, not that she’d ever tell Batman that. It was solid black, had a red bat on the front of it, and was fully equipped with a utility belt, knife holsters, and a taser. It had a full cowl like Batmans, along with the pointy ears on top.

“I don’t see the problem.” Batman’s voice had undertones of offense in it.

“Look.” She gestured at the costume. “Im honored, truly, that you want me to watch your back. But I’m not a vigilante. Nor will I ever be!”

She had watched what vigilantism had done to Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Valerie over the years. Sure, she’d gone out with them more than once. Without a mask. But there was something more complex about the costume sitting on the table in front of her.

“You said you were going to help.” Batman’s gruff voice got closer as he took a few steps towards her.

“And I did.” She gestured to the Batcomputer. “I already gave you my opinions of the case. I dedicated a weekend of PTO time to be here. But this is as far as my help goes.”

“What about the last operation? You owe me.”

“Owe you?!” She exclaimed, thumping her finger against his chest. “I told you to get lost. You still stuck around. You could’ve cost me the operation!”

“It worked.”

She groaned in frustration. She was close enough to him now that she could smell the faint smell of Kevlar and aftershave from him. She rubbed a hand down her face as she thought over what had happened last time she was in Gotham.

“What about all your other winged vigilantes? You had uh.. Nightwing, and Robin, right?”

“It’s only Nightwing.” Batman responded. “He’s unavailable.”

“I could’ve sworn you had a Robin, too.” She looked up at him and noticed the stiffness of his body.

“Robin has moved on.” Batman replied.

Hmm. Touchy subject. She wasn’t going to push. It wasn’t any of her buisness.

“You must be really desperate if you’re trying this hard to get me to go out in that.” She smirked.

“Things could go wrong.” Batman said with a quiet sigh.

“Don’t they always?” She tilted her head.

“Not always.” Batman mimicked her actions, clearly studying her. “What will it take?”

“If I put that mask on,” She gestured to the table behind her, “You take yours off.”

“No.”

“Fine. Deals off, then.” She pulled her phone out and immediately started looking for flights back to DC.

“Why?” He questioned.

“I can’t trust someone who won’t tell me who they are.” She shrugged.

Batman let out a quiet growl. As he took his cowl off, he scowled. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Miss Fenton?”

“Holy shit.” Her eyes got wide.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

[im-tired-404]

I am going to (respectfully) rip his clothes off, (respectfully) leave hickies on his neck and jawline, then (respectfully) pamper him.

Im going to eat him arm. Right now.

[mariasont]

Our Minds Entwined------------------------

ch 1, ch 2

Aaron Hotchner x Original Character x Spencer Reid

in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest youngest member

Chapter One:

The bar was abuzz with the kind of infectious energy that only comes from a group of friends riding the high of a celebratory night out. In the center of it all was Evelyn Gideon, her laughter a melody that seemed to turn heads and draw smiles even from strangers. She was the embodiment of sunshine—her allure as undeniable as the curves she carried with effortless grace.

Evelyn raised her glass, her eyes sparkling with excitement and liquor. "To new beginnings and breaking ceilings," she toasted, her voice carrying over the crowded room.

Her friends echoed the sentiment, "To Evelyn, the FBI's newest and brightest!"

As they sipped their drinks, the conversation flowed easily, touching on memories, aspirations, and the occasional playful banter about the 'aesthetically pleasing' aspects of her new job.

Evelyn leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, "You know, I've had my fair share of late-night googling and let's just say the FBI isn't all work and no play. They've got some serious eye candy too."

Her friends giggled, urging her on, and she obliged, a little tipsy from the copious amounts of wine. "There's this one agent, my boss, Aaron Hotchner. Oh, and another, Spencer Reid. They're like the real-life versions of those FBI recruitment posters. So hot, it's criminal."

The group erupted into laughter, unaware that just a few tables away, two men had paused their conversation, a knowing look exchanged between them. They said nothing, just an awkward cough as they went back to their drinks.

Spencer's eyes met hers briefly before averting his gaze.

Aaron's expression was unreadable as he scoffed, "Interns."

The laughter from Evelyn's table continued to ripple through the bar, a stark contrast to the muted tones of conversation at the agents' table. Spencer's eyes flickered back to his drink, the ice clinking softly as he swirled the glass, a thoughtful expression on his face. Aaron, meanwhile, maintained his stoic facade, though the corners of his mouth twitched in a suppressed smile.

Evelyn, buoyed by the warmth of the wine and her company, leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting across the room. She caught Spencer's eye again, realization drawing on her face, and this time he held her gaze, an unspoken challenge passing between them.

One of her friends nudged her, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "He's cute."

Evelyn's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing with the implications. "I think that's my new boss and colleague."

Evelyn, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and her earlier comments, caught the agents' glance and felt a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over her. She fumbled with her purse, her laughter trailing off into a nervous giggle.

"Uh, I just remembered, I have an early meeting tomorrow, and I should really get going," Evelyn stammered, avoiding eye contact with the table of agents. Her friends, sensing her discomfort, offered her quick hugs and understanding nods as she made her hasty retreat.

As Evelyn vanished into the crowd, Aaron and Spencer's attention was momentarily captured by the bar's TV, where a breaking news segment flashed across the screen. They leaned in, their focus on a case they'd been following, the world around them fading into the background.

When they finally turned back, expecting to find the lively group still immersed in their celebration, they were met with the sight of an empty chair where Evelyn had been. A twinge of disappointment flickered across their faces, though neither would admit it aloud.

Spencer cleared his throat, "Well, interns are always full of surprises," he remarked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Aaron nodded, his gaze lingering on the now quieter table. "Indeed. But let's not forget, we were all there once," he said, raising a glass in a silent salute to their beginning memories.

"Statistically speaking," Spencer began, his voice barely above the murmur of the bar, "the chances of us overhearing a conversation about ourselves in such a setting are quite slim."

Hotch couldn't help but chuckle at Spencer's comment. "And yet here we are," he added, the hint of a smirk betraying his amusement.

—

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across Evelyn's sleep softened face as she awoke to the chirping of birds and the distant hum of the city. She lay in bed for a moment, her mind a whirlwind of memories from the night before. The laughter, the wine, the unexpected encounter with Dr. Reid and Hotchner.

She was Jason Gideon's daughter, a fact that filled her with pride yet weighed heavily on her. At 23, she was young to be joining the FBI, especially the BAU, and she felt the pressure to prove herself as more than just a legacy hire.

Evelyn sat up, pushing back the covers as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Today was the day. Her first day at the BAU. A mix of excitement and nerves bubbled within her, but there was something else too—a hint of mortification. She couldn't shake the memory of calling her new boss and coworker hot within earshot. She hoped against hope that they hadn't overheard.

With a deep breath she rose and made her way to the mirror. She took pride in her appearance, and today was no exception. She chose her outfit with care, professional yet undeniably her.

As she applied her makeup, each brush was an attempt to paint away the embarrassment of last night. She styled her hair, letting it fall into soft waves around her shoulders. We one last glance in the mirror, she was ready.

Evelyn grabbed her gun and badge, the weight of them both a reminder of the responsibility she was about to undertake. She was a member of the FBI now, and she had a role to play.

—

Evelyn's heels clicked against the polished floors of the FBI building, a steady rhythm that matched her racing heart. She drew a deep breath, letting her bubbly personality shine through her nervous smile as she passed through the security checkpoint. She didn't spot Hotch or Dr. Reid, a small mercy that allowed her to collect herself without the weight of their gazes.

The first day formalities were a blur—ID photos, paperwork, and the endless maze of hallways. It was all so technical and impersonal, yet it was the gateway to her dream.

Then, a beacon of light, she spotted Penelope Garcia. They had connected over an online forum for crime fiction enthusiasts, bonding over plot theories and character developments. Garcia's vibrant attire and smile were just as welcoming in person.

"Penelope!" Evelyn greeted, her voice a mix of relief and excitement.

"Evelyn! Honey, you're even more stunning in person!" Garcia beamed, pulling her into a hug. "Welcome to the BAU family!"

As they chatted, Garcia led her to the bullpen, where Evelyn was introduced to the team. Emily Prentiss's firm handshake and measured smile spoke of strength and understanding. JJ's friendly nod and Derek Morgan's charming grin were disarming, making Evelyn's nerves ease slightly.

"So you're the prodigy Gideon was always bragging about," Morgan teased, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Evelyn laughed, the sound light and genuine. "I hope to live up to at least half the hype," she replied, her tone playful yet sincere.

Prentiss leaned in, her voice low but encouraging. "We've all heard great things about you, Evelyn. We're glad to have you on board."

"And we'll make sure you find your footing," JJ added, her smile reassuring.

The warmth of the welcome eased the knots in her stomach. She was a part of the team, surrounded by legends, and yet, they made her feel like she was one of them—bright, capable.

"Gideon."

The newfound calm in Evelyn's stomach vanished as swiftly as it had arrived when she heard her last name echo across the bullpen. The authoritative tone of Aaron Hotchner snapped the easy atmosphere like a taut wire. She turned, her heart hitching as she met his gaze. For a fleeting moment, she saw the mask of his composure slip, a flicker of surprise that quickly schooled into neutrality. "A word, please?"

Derek couldn't resist the opportunity for a quip. "Don't keep the man waiting, he's not known for his patience," he said, eliciting a round of chuckles from the team.

Evelyn's heart pounded as she approached Hotchner's office, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts seeming to rest on one—he was going to confront me about what I said. She stepped inside, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Hotchner's office was a stark contrast to the lively bullpen, its walls lined with commendations and case files. He gestured to a chair.

"Good morning, Evelyn," Hotchner began as he motioned her into his office. "Please, have a seat."

She moved past him, her senses heightened, astutely aware of the shift in his demeanor. As she settled into the chair, she caught him glancing at a file on his desk, his eyes momentarily distracted.

"I didn't expect you to be so..." he started, his gaze lifting to meet hers.

"Young?" Evelyn filled in, her voice a mix of confidence and self-deprecation, butterflies filling her stomach. "I get that a lot, but I assure you it won't affect my performance, sir."

In his mind, Hotchner corrected himself, Attractive, but he let the thought pass unspoken of course, cursing himself for even thinking it. "Of course," he said aloud. "Your age isn't a concern. Your qualifications speak for themselves."

He leaned back, interlacing his fingers as he regarded her. "As a new member of the BAU you'll be expected to undergo a period of observation. You'll accompany the team on cases, but your involvement will be limited until you've completed your training."

Evelyn nodded, absorbing every word.

"You'll be assigned a mentor," Hotch continued. "Dr. Reid will take on that role. He'll guide you through our protocols and procedures."

"I'm ready to learn and contribute, sir." Evelyn responded earnestly.

He had been called "sir" by many, but when the word left Evelyn's lips, it was as if he heard it for the first time. He caught himself staring at the lips at which the words came from, snapping his focus back to her eyes.

Hotchner's expression softened ever so slightly. "I believe you are. And remember, this team is a family. We rely on each other's strengths to face what most can't even imagine."

With a final nod, he stood, signaling the end of the meeting. "Welcome to the BAU, Agent."

next

[fopdoodle99]

story idea: for the last three years OA has taken Mona to the annual West Point Ball. This year he wants to take someone else.

[amell333]

His own personal desk pet. S.R

HELLO this is my fist ever fic pls Iwould love to hear what you guys think and i hope you will like my first ever fic! enjoy!

!!English is not my first languge!!

summary: Spencer like having you sitting near or on his desk, he like being able to have you close to him so he can hold you, but sometimes forgets you're not the only onse there. but can you blame him he loves having his own personal desk pet. especially one as cute and pretty as you. but just bc you can doesn't mean others can.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Content Warnings: none really just dr Reid being cute and needy. And reader being a litte embarrassed. just fluff yk.

Spencer had never really liked the idea of physical contact with another person. He didn’t like handshakes nor sitting too close to people where they were almost touching. Going his way out to mostly avoid having to touch another person. You could say he is a bit of a germophobe if you would.

But that was before you.

Everybody at the BAU knew Doctor Spencer Reid had a massive soft spot for you, ever since you walked in the doors at the FBI, the moment he laid his eyes on you he knew he was hit, Spencer had fallen for a person he didn’t even know the name of at the time, hell even the whole FBI knew how much he liked you, everyone except you. For a member of the BAU you had an extremely impressive knowledge on criminals and murder, but when it came to love you were facing a wall almost stupid on the subject of love.

You were so oblivious that you never noticed how all of his rules was thrown out the window the second you it came to you. You never noticed how his touches would linger on you’re shoulder when explaining something to you or how he would scooch closer to you when you all set at the round table going over a case, or in the jet how the seat next to you was always reserved for him. You never saw how he would stare at you with his adorable big brown puppy dog eyes like if he didn’t, he would be striped of all life.

Being the same age and having common interests made the two of you inseparable from the start, oh and ofc Spencer’s massive crush on you. You two had been best friends for almost 6 years now and in these last 6 years Spencer’s crush had only been grooving bigger and bigger.

“Earth calling Doctor Reid! You there pretty boy? Or are you too busy making lovey eyes to you’re crush over there?” Morgans voice snaped Spencer out of the spell like trance you had put him in.

“What?” not really hearing what he said, Spencer only then looked back at Morgan, locking eyes with him. Spencer’s eyes getting used to looking at something closer again needed some time to adjust. “Sorry? what did you say again? I didn’t quite hear you.”

Snickers could be heard from not only Morgan but also JJ, Emly and Rosi, “Man she got you hooked pretty boy huh? You sure that shot to the leg didn’t effect your braid as well?” spencer still confused didn’t  get time to answer before the sound of  JJ’s voice broke the laughter.

“Guys Hotch just texted we got a case”

And only a few minutes later there they were sitting around the round table explaining the case. You sitting next to Spencer, like always. No one really had seats around the table that was theirs, but you and Spencer did no one had ever mentioned it or even talked about it, but everyone on the team knew it. it was an unspoken rule. No one sits next to Spencer unless it’s you.

Spencer scooted closer to you while the quick briefing was happening, not really completely listening but enough to drop his point of view on the different point’s of the statements on the murders here and there, before randomly info dumping something only just related to the case at hand, no Spencer was far to busy loving the heat you’re  body gave off you’re arm touching his. He loved how warm you were. But once again he was broken from his thought’s by a voice.

“Ok guys wheels up in 20”

Spencer turned his head to you. You’re pretty face already looking at his face. “So see you on the jet. Save me a seat ok” it wasn’t really a question because you know he would he always did.

And like always there you were sitting next to him, you where almost sitting on his lap with how close together you were sitting, but neither of you minded, his hand around you’re waist and chit resting ever so gently on you’re shoulder.

You didn’t fly for long before landing and getting of the jet. The drive to the small town station wasn’t that bad either, it was a small town on a big land a lot of desert with not so much town. When you and the team walked in Spencer’s hand still hadn’t left you’re body it was still ever so gently resting on the small of you’re back.

Having been introduced to the sharif and the people you were going to work with. Next thing was splitting into teams on who were going where and doing what, and with Spencer’s injury it was not hard to see he was going to have to work from the station.

“So who’s staying with Reid at the station?”

Darek was quick to shot a look between you and Spencer before saying. “actually I think Pretty boy is going to be most comfortable staying here with Y/N here more then any of us others” Spencer stopped and looked over at you expectingly.

The other’s looked over to you. You feeling and uncomfortable feeling having all eyes staring at you waiting for an answer Hotch’s voice sounded “Y/N? you’re ok with staying here with Dr Reid?”

“Of curse I’ll stay here with Spence! Can’t have him getting lonely now can we.” You said with an adoring smile on you’re face. “Grate you two stay here and see what you can find on victimology and see what’s may connect the victim in any way’s. sharif could you find a desk for the two of them they can use as work station?”

“Sure yeah of curse, I’ll go find 2 desks for the two of you-“ he was quickly cut off by Spencer. “No one will be fine, we have no problem sharing a desk.” Quick looks was shared between the team. You’re voice rung out. “yeah one is fine I have no problem sharing a desk with Spence.”

“ very well then, I’ll go find and clear a desk you guys can use. In the meantime you can just wait here.” The sharif went off to find a desk you could use. Not even a minute later he came back, and showed you and Spencer to the desk. “well we should get started now huh?” you asked Spenser. He responded with a nod and a dorky smile.

Hours later you were sitting on the desk with you’re legs crossed with a Spencer leaning up against you’re thigh. The news had in someway slipped out to the press and the phones were going off like crazy. “ We know who his next victim is. I’ll go outside and deliver the news to the team.” And with that you hopped off the table and walked out the back door.

and around 5 minutes later a female cop walk up to the desk you only 5 minutes ago were siting on. “So I se you’ve been working hard huh you deserve a teat here I brought you some coffee from the coffee machine.” Handing the Warm cup To Spencer he thanked her knowing damn well he wasn’t even going to thing about drinking it.

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to her or what she was saying to be honest, that was until she leaned half sat herself on the desk not only that but a little too close to him touching his arm. Spencer almost panicked but calmed himself. “please don’t touch me nor sit on my desk I’m a bit of a germophobe.” He said as calmly as he could

“A germo-what? But you let that other girl full on sit on the desk and she was touching you? That doesn’t make any sense buddy.” She said almost offended. “ yeah but she’s different. She’s so much different then you.” With that said she stormed off. And didn’t approach the team again especially not Spencer or you.

 But at the end of the day you caught the killer. And was packing up to go back home. You and Spencer was the fist in the jet. “spence?...” Spencer was confused by the tone and turned around. When he did he did see a smile on you’re face like always you’re expression was impossible to read. It scared him. What if he had did something wrong? Had he done something to make you sad or mad? He didn’t know and he couldn’t read you. It scared him.

“spencer am I different to you then others?” the question made him panic. “Wh-what are you talking about of course not-“ he was quickly cut off by you’re voice. “Spence I heard what you said to the female cop.” Silence the only thing there could be heard was the steps you took to take you closer to him.

“ you- you heard that?! I can explain ok! It’s no because you’re different! I mean you are diff-“he was cut off by the soft touch of you’re lips on his. He was surprised but quick to kiss back, scrabbling with his hands to hold the sides of you’re face. “I like you Y/N. I like you a lot, I would even say I love you but I would want to scare you away like that.” “I like you a lot to but..” he was quick to think of the worst. “but?...” “ but I would love you if you took me on a date.” The smile returning to his face. “of course! Of course I will” hugging you with a smile.

The happy little session you had was cut off with a loud “fucking finally!” you and Spencer turned around to see the whole team standing there. You were embarrassed. Realizing they had probably seen it all or at least most of it. “my man! So you finally got the girl” ohh man this was going to be a long flight home for you and Spencer.

AGHHHH MY FIRST FIC!!  I really hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. and I wish you beautiful ppl a good morning/afternoon/night:33333

[luvfo00l]

Some of my favourite fox Mulder hcs

Pairings: Fox Mulder x F!FBI!reader

Warnings: these are SFW and NSFW, MDNI below the cut!

SFW

Fox’s love language is physical touch, anytime of the day, you could just be looking at a case at your desk, he would lean over from his desk to feel your hand.

Whenever you steal his glasses he blushes almost uncontrollably, he just thinks you’re so cute.

totally writes you love notes and letters, leaving them around your desk and when you two live together he leaves them around the apartment.

Mulder is a surprisingly protective lover, he’s the sort to put his arms around your waist if another man was ever looking at you, he’d kiss your neck too

You two on a case of some crazy X file and Mulder getting bored in the car and singing along to the radio.

Whenever you feel upset he doesn’t leave your side, like at all

Fox is a super romantic man, he could see you’re cold on a case in the middle of the night and give you his big trench coat that was significantly too big for you.

He absolutely adores when you do his makeup, there’s something about you practicing your makeup on him that he just really thinks your concentration is cute.

The first time Fox realised you had taken his heart was when you got sent to work with him on a case in the middle of nowhere Oregon when you were focused on reading, he just..fell for you.

NSFW

Fox Mulder is a switch. You cannot tell me otherwise.

He likes when you wear his glasses and ride him, it just makes him so hard.

He likes missionary and cowgirl.

He REALLY likes your ass in pencil skirts..

Mulder is a tits man, he just loves squishing them, putting his head on them and obviously putting his cock between them.

You two once had sex in a rental car on a case.

You wanna know why he always wears that long coat? To hide his damn boner when you bend over in a skirt or trousers.

Remember when I said physical touch is his love language, it has two meanings..

He LOVES when you leave hickeys on his neck, people in the FBI don’t really call him ‘spooky Mulder’ when they realise his ‘innocent’ little girlfriend gave him those hickeys.

He absolutely loves when you sit on his lap and when you grind on his lap he just loses it completely.

Sorry guys this is my first time ever writing for Mulder so I hope I did good :)

[dazzlingstarlight]

I see you write fanfics and was wondering if you take requests?

It's ok if you don't, I just thought I'd ask.

Hi @darkbluecuriosities! I'm apologizing for this very late reply, as I haven't been on Tumblr much due to lack of time. Unfortunately, I haven't been writing either due to lack of time. I did write several Maggie/OA fics in the past and loved writing them, but sadly I'm not sure I'll have time to do any prompts right now. If anyone else out there writes Maggie/OA fics, I hope they'll see this post and join in fic writing!!

[altankatt]

Here is the chapter: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/altankatt/part-11-chapter-16

[captain-penguin2]

Tiff confronts Scola

source: archiveofourown.org