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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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It's A Love Story, Baby

Summary: Secret relationships can be fun, but sometimes the love runs so deep that it’s just begging to get the spotlight. Love like that is difficult, but it’s the realest thing Spencer and Y/N have ever felt.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X GN Reader (this is my first time writing GN, so if anything seems to be gendered, PLEASE tell me)

Content Warning: Brief innuendo (like barely PG-13) but it's there if you think about it. Kissing...

I’m so so dumb. I forgot about the shower scene when I was writing the content warnings. I wrote 2 versions. So ugh. There’s a shower scene but it’s intimate and romantic rather than sexual.

Author’s Note: I don’t particularly like writing from a second person point of view, but please let me know what you think. I’m still learning & appreciate feedback.

Also..... this is my fic for @willowrose99 anniversary! so congrats!!

Word Count: 2.6

It's a Love Story, Baby

It was in the quiet moments in the early morning that always remind you of how much you love Spencer Reid. The morning light seemed to make him look even more beautiful than anyone could possibly be. You always marvel at how young he looks while he sleeps. His face isn’t contorted into a perplexed frown and his mind is at ease. You love every iteration of Spencer, but sleeping Spencer has to be your favorite.

It’s impossible, you know that, but still. You’ll tell yourself all these lies and will yourself to believe that it’s a Saturday. Any excuse to stay tangled in between the sheets with your chest pressed up to Spencer’s back and your arms hugging around his waist.

Reality, however, seems to have it out for the pair of you. The blaring alarm wakes you from your clandestine fairytale. It’s a signal that calls you and Spencer back to Earth. Even though it happens every morning, the crash from Paradise stings.

Spencer, his brown hair tousled and messy, groans as he puts his pillow over his head. You twist your body to turn off the alarm. For whatever reason, Spencer insisted that you use an old fashioned alarm clock; the kind that’s jarring and ridiculously loud.

“Y/N,” Spencer mumbles, his voice groggy and low. If you weren’t pressed for time, you’re sure that considering the way your name sounds from Spencer’s lips, you’d be spending more time in bed and less time sleeping.

“Spencer,” You tease back, dragging your hands under his pajama top. Spencer Reid has a lot of quirks, like the alarm clock, but the one you find most endearing is his affinity for matching pajama sets.

“Just stay a little longer, please. I can’t stand when you leave,” Spencer says, turning his head to look at you. You lay there in his bed, tempted to give into him. Tempted to stay in this little paradise that you carved out for yourselves.

“You know I’d love that more than anything,” You say, trying not to get swept up in the starry way Spencer gazes up at you, “but you promised me a picnic, Romeo and I want a picnic with my favorite person,”

“You brush your fingers across his face, committing him to memory for the days to come. Those sleepless nights where the only thing you want is to be in Spencer’s arms. Those dark moments on a case where you need to touch him, to touch something that’s so pure and good and kind. Those silent stares can only keep you at bay for so long.

He simply closes his eyes and swallows his words. Silently, he places a kiss on your forehead. It’s a light peck, but those are the ones that seem to be just dripping with love. But instead of his kiss leaving needing more, all you feel is guilt. Spencer doesn’t deserve to be loved in the shadows, but there you were kissing him with the guise of secrecy.

But maybe today was going to change that. Maybe you’ll be able to kiss Spencer in public and hold his hand. Or even stroke his hair as his head rests in your lap while he reads to you. All those normal couple activities were always just a grasp and a leap away. But the menacing foe of the FBI relationship rules proved to be a looming enemy.

“I’m going to shower,” Spencer says. His voice trails off, like he expects you to finish his sentence for him.

“Care if I join?” You ask, hoping that it’s what he wants too. His devilish grin is enough for you to stretch your back and scamper on into the bathroom with Spencer at your heels.

He likes undressing you more than any other man you’ve been with. He takes his time unbuttoning your pajama top. His fingers, though they look like they’d be rough and coarse, are soft and slip down to your hip bone, just grazing the skin. Spencer lets his fingers press a little harder, urging you to spin around so your back is up against his chest. He places wet kisses along the exposed skin of your shoulders; he’s more adventurous this morning. Spencer’s kisses are usually sweet, almost chaste. Usually the opposite of how his hands rank over your body or how his eyes look at you when you smile and writhe from his touch.

“I love when you steal my clothes, Y/N,” He says, his voice still a little husky and you don’t think it’s from the lack of sleep.

You close your eyes, as if eliminating one of your senses would heighten to ones that Spencer is letting on fire. Suddenly, his touch is gone and you feel a lot colder. He turns the water on in the shower and you take the opportunity to pay attention to him. He, much your disdain, dodges your kisses by getting under the warm water.

Spencer, gesturing for you to join him, lets his hands hover over your hips and up your arms. There’s isn’t a spot on your body that he hasn’t touched. Every piece of your being is open to Spencer’s love, but only in the quiet privacy of your apartments.

It’s hard to think about that, as he holds you in his arms. The warm water mixes with the way his chest presses up your back.

“What smell do you want?,” He asks, referring to the many bottles of shampoos, conditioners, and body washes. The citrus scents are yours while Spencer prefers this ridiculously expensive coconut and cinnonmen shampoo.

“Hmm, Meyer Lemon,” You day and Spencer grabs the shampoo and matching conditioner from the shower rack.

He squirts some shampoo on his hands and lathers it up before massaging it into your scalp. Spencer, if the BAU doesn’t pan out, should go into professional hair care. He’s got these long fingers that reach across the expanse of your scalp and come down to place pressure on your temples. You lay your head back, leaning against Spencer’s upper chest. You still marvel at how your head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck. It’s hard to feel bad for forcing him to love in private when his hands are all over your body, silently spilling his affections and feelings with every stroke against your back and every tender graze against your shoulder.

“Lean back to rinse,” He says quietly. Faithfully, you lean back and rinse your hair. Spencer’s fingers come to undo the knot and snags, his gentleness is indiscernible from his love.

Finally clean, you turn around to face Spencer. The water slaps against your back, it’s hot and stings but you don’t care. Spencer, so used to having to swallow his affection, tends to go a little overboard when he gets the chance to touch you and kiss you as you and him please. It’s like he’s making up for all the times when he wants to kiss you in the middle of the bullpen, but Emily's door is left open and she can hear everything from a mile away.

“Your turn, my dear,” you say, taking the opportunity to kiss Spencer's collarbones, up his neck, and over his jaw line. It’s a little absurd how pretty he is and totally unfair.

Spencer, not wanting to sacrifice a chance to kiss you, places needy kisses all over your face, except your lips. His goofy kisses send you into a fit of laughter. He seems so free like this, so unafraid to love.

Spencer turns around and crouches slightly, giving you full access to his hair. You lather up his shampoo and mirroring his actions, you massage the shampoo into his scalp. Early into your relationship, you found out that Spencer loves showers. It’s not surprising, he’s the cleanest person you know. But Spencer loves showering with you. There’s nothing sexual about it, even though the way his fingers dance around your naked body leave you wanting more. Showering with Spencer lets loose all those bottled up emotions from the cases. Your clandestine showering meetings are an intimate exercise where you remind each other that you're alive, you’re still breathing and still hanging on.

Maybe it could be like this all the time, only if you’re brave enough to say “yes”

You stand back as Spencer washes off the final suds that collected on his back. He shuts off the water and climbs out of the shower. You follow, but reach for two towels. Spencer wraps his towel around his waist and squeezes the water out of his hair into the bathtub. Drying yourself off, you sit on the bathroom counter and rub lotion on your legs.

The quiet moments of domesticity almost make you believe that this is your life with Spencer. It seems so real that at times you let yourself wonder what it’s like to love Spencer in public.

As it turns out, your little bliss is short-lived when a loud knock disrupts your quiet morning.

You shoot Spencer a terrified look; both of you can recognize that knock anywhere. Luke Alvez is here, and unfortunately you are too, but naked in your co-work/secret lover’s bathroom.

“Spencer! What the hell is he doing here?” You say, your voice raising with your fear of being caught.

“I don’t know Y/N. He was telling me the other day that he wants to take me out to you know,” Spencer says, letting his voice trail off.

“To what, Spencer?” You ask, growing annoyed at Luke’s unexpected arrival.

“To get me laid,” Spencer mumbles under his breath. His hands come up to hide his blush at the uncomfortable conversation that he remembers word for word with Luke.

“What? God. Did you tell him that, that um covered?” You say, hoping that Spencer would catch your meaning, but he shakes his head.

“Oh my God, Spencer. You need to go out there and fix this. Okay, I’m going to look for clothes,” You tell him, throwing a sweatshirt and a pair of boxers at him.

He puts on the boxers before opening the bathroom door. Luke’s loud knocking gets more insistent and Spencer manages to get his sweatshirt on before he swings the door open.

“Took you long enough,” Luke says, standing in the doorway.

“Yeah. Some of us like to sleep on days off. You should try it sometime,” Spencer responds, getting ready to shut the door in Luke’s face and return to Y/N in the bathroom.

“You’re hiding something, Reid,” Luke says, strong-arming his way into Spencer’s apartment.

“I have no clue what you're talking about, Luke. Everything is fine, I’m fine,” Spencer says. You listen from the bathroom with the door slightly ajar.

“You said you were sleeping?” Luke asks, and you internally cringe at what you know is to come.

“Yeah. Work has been exhausting and this is our only time to catch up on sleep. Actually, I was reading this study—”

“Reid. Don’t change the subject. Your hair is wet. And you’re wearing a sweatshirt to a college that you didn’t go to,” Luke surmises. Shit, you think. Luke Alvez, through all his brawn and muscle, is the most perceptive profiler, especially when it comes to Spencer.

“I just washed my hair and —” Spencer starts, but is silenced by Luke’s hand.

“If I remember correctly, Y/N went to Auburn,”

You can’t hear what Spencer says, but you only imagine him out there in his boxers in your college sweatshirt standing awkwardly in front of Luke Alvez. He picks at the embroidered scarlet “A” that’s sewn into the sweatshirt.

“You’re still holding out on that happening, aren’t you?” Luke asks.

“Um, I guess,” Spencer says, “you know I really do love Y/N. It’s not like it’s just a work crush or anything. Y/N is it for me. Even if I’m not it for Y/N,” Spencer says, and for some reason you think that his words aren’t for Luke.

“Come on dude, just let me get you laid. I know you’re hung up on Y/N but it seems like that is sailed. Spence, Y/N is seeing someone and it’s really serious. Penelope was telling me that Y/N mentioned something to her about this guy. I’m sorry, Spencer. But I don’t think that’s going to work out,” Luke says calmly.

“Oh yeah," Spencer says, trying to mask his smile at being Y/N's mystery man that Penelope gossips about, "but, really, uh. Luke, I’m not looking to uh get. I’m not in business of, uh?— ”

Unable to take it any longer, you swing open the bathroom door...

“I think what Spencer is trying to say, Luke is that uh, he, well really we got it covered,” You say, unable to watch the way that Spencer is utterly crumbling under Luke’s stare.

You pop out from the bathroom dressed in Spencer’s robe. Luke looks from Spencer to you and back to Spencer. You can see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to figure out if his friends are playing an elaborate practical joke that’s years in the making or if their longing stares and hidden smiles were evidence of something more.

“Y/N the guy you’re seeing is Spencer?” Luke asks, not fully believing his eyes.

“Yes, uh. You know we just wanted to keep things secret for a little bit because of Emily and the rules,” You answer, hoping he'd understand why you and Spencer were a secret.

“Huh, damn,” Luke says, still shocked that he missed all those obvious signs.

“Yes and I’d appreciate it if you stop insisting that Spencer get laid. I can assure you that that is taken care of. Thoroughly,” You say, sitting down next to Spencer on the couch.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Spencer says, appalled that his partner is giving his friend very innocent details about his quite active sex life.

“What, Spence. I’ve decided that the team should know you're a genius in more ways than one. Besides, the cat has been let out the bag,” You reason, liking the way Spencer’s blush returns to the top of his nose and down his cheeks.

“I’ve heard enough, um. But don’t be surprised when your uh extracurricular activities are interrupted by Penny,” Luke says before dashing out the door, already getting Penelope on speed dial.

Spencer, still sitting on the edge of the couch, turns to face you. His face is contorted, like he’s trying, but struggling to read the emotions of the room.

“You’re okay, Y/N. With everyone knowing?” Spencer asks, his voice full of trepidation. He sounds so scared, like he feels guilty for you wanting to keep your relationship a secret.

“Spencer, look at me please,” You say, scooting a little closer on the couch so your knees touch. He refused to make eye contact with you, until you place your fingertips under his chin, directing his attention at you.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. I messed this up, I --” Spencer went on. His lips could hardly keep up with how fast his brain seems to work.

“Spence, hon. Please relax. I’m not upset. We’ll make it out of this mess. This love might be difficult, sweetheart, but it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt,” You tell him. Your fingers haven’t left his chin, but you do move them down towards the back of his neck.

“The best love stories were never easy,” Spencer says, enjoying the way your nimble fingers tangle themselves in his hair, tugging his head closer to yours.

You close the gap, and even though you’ve done this countless times, Spencer can still make your heart skip a beat or two.

“You still owe me a picnic, Romeo,"

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Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed this and again happy one year to will!

I appreciate and love every single reblog, comment and like ❤️❤️

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Taglist (Comment to be added)

@shemarmooresfedora

@calm-and-doctor

@willowrose99

@nomajdetective

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #willsannievent

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runwithwolvcs · 3 years

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You Know I'm No Good - eleven

just one more

Warnings: none just fluff

It's you,

because no one else makes sense

Pauls PoV

Paul had dropped Tallulah just before midnight, waiting until she had made it safely into her home before heading off towards Sam’s, which wasn’t too far from the Forresters. He cut through the well-known woods as a shortcut before coming out into the same clearing Sam and he had found Tallulah and her friends just one week prior. Where he had found Tallulah and that Chase kid all wrapped up in one another, now mixed with the boy he had found her with tonight, sent waves of anger through Paul's body. Not necessarily from jealousy, more so to do with his imprints lack of care of who she chooses as company. Paul knows he's not much better than the boys she calls her friends, he was them when he was in high school. Before he had shifted at least.

He had known trying to figure her out wouldn’t be easy, especially with the rumors that had been spread like wildfire amongst the tribe before she had even stepped foot onto the reservation. When Rachel had pointed her out at the bonfire her first night, the night everything had changed for him, he couldn’t help but notice how different she seemed. He knew that she had grown up in the city, but even just the air around her, the way she didn’t care that everyone's eyes were focused on her, was so refreshing in comparison to most of the younger girls on the res. Surely, he should’ve known just from that thought she would be special to him, considering who he had shown up to the bonfire with was no longer a thought in his mind, but only when they had made eye contact was it solidified.

Her.

His other half.

And just like that everything had changed. He had wanted to say hello, introduce himself and if it wasn’t for the immediate connection, he would have, but he could feel her resentment. To what he was unsure of, but it was enough to send a ripple of anger through him, and with Rachel's reaction to Tallulah, it was enough to send him over the edge completely, causing him to leave the bonfire early and his imprint.

His first interaction with her had not gone to plan either. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the fiery girl he had met that day excited him, he wanted to know more of her, and still does. Even though she had spent the week helping Paul at the bookstore, and more and more of her personality had come out besides just the exterior front she had put up with him, he wanted to know more about her. What her life was like back in Seattle, what her interests are, besides causing what seems to be an infinite amount of trouble for herself. Her favorite book, and movie. Everything.

Walking down the dirt road up to the familiar wooden cottage, Paul could see his truck sitting off to the side meaning Embry had beaten him back, hopefully he had filled them in too, he thought to himself, wanting nothing more than to just go on his patrol shift and then head to bed.

Walking through the door he was met with Sam and Emily sitting at their dining room table, he could hear that Embry was in the kitchen, no doubt looking for something to eat. They had stopped their conversation as soon as Paul had entered, Sam was now looking at him with a stern look, whereas Emilys was more concerned, “She’s fine.” he reassured Emily, and himself.

Emily had quickly spoken to Tallulah after Paul had unintentionally shifted, something that was so rare for him to do nowadays. Emily was the one who was able to pull out any information from Tal, which he was grateful for, but from the look on Sams, he was not so happy,

“You should have gone to Joseph,” Sam started, causing Paul to scoff, “That's what he’s asked of us, Paul. I let you get away with keeping her night in the clearing from him, but this, this was something he should’ve dealt with himself. Tallulah is his daughter, and if you’re always there to bail her out of the problems she creates for herself, then you’re undermining the limits he’s set with her.” Sam spoke with authority, like Paul was back in school having been sent to the principal's office.

He wanted to roll his eyes, instead he just said, “His daughter? His daughter that he knows nothing about. His daughter that he completely abandoned when she was a child. His daughter, that he doesn’t want to be truly happy because if he did he wouldn’t have come to me and asked for me to ignore the imprint. I’m not sorry that I didn’t go to him, because that was the last thing she needed tonight.” With each sentence he got angrier and angrier, causing Sam to stand up from his spot at the table.

Even the thought of the day Joseph had called a meeting with himself and Sam could cause him to shift on the spot. Being told from the day he first shifted that finding your imprint was a gift, and then being told to stay away from her once he had found her left him in a state of permanent anger. The worst part was that he actually listened and did what he was told despite seeing the repercussions it was having on her.

“Whatever you may think of him, Paul, does not mean you get to overrule what he says. None of this would have happened tonight if she had listened to her father.” Sam reasoned, and before Paul could defend his actions yet again, Emily stepped in,

“I think what Sam is trying to say is that Tallulah needs that family structure. Joseph wants to give her that, and because you imprinted on her so suddenly, he just wants to make sure she still gets it before you tell her everything. That's why he wanted you to fight back from the pull, and obviously that didn’t work out quite like anyone expected. But you protecting her from any consequence that she needs to face is only going to re-solidify for her that she doesn’t need that family structure in her life. Which could cause problems for both of you, once she finds out she’s linked to you for the rest of her life.” Emily explained gently.

Paul ran his hands over his face in exhaustion. He knew she was right, that Sam was too. But he didn’t want to hurt her, their friendship was fragile already and telling her dad about her whereabouts would only fracture it even more. “I’m going to tell her everything. Whether Joseph wants me to or not, she deserves to know. Hell, she deserves to know why he abandoned her and her mom, too.”

Tallulah’s POV:

The next morning Tallulah woke up in a state of sorrow, wanting nothing more than to just be left alone by everyone. Deciding that the only way she was going to truly find seclusion was to go for a hike by herself. It wasn’t the safest option she had come up with but it definitely was the most fool-proof.

She stood at the entrance of a path leading into the woods, pulling her jacket tighter around body as the wind picked up. The only thing she had bothered to bring with her was a small backpack carrying a water bottle. She had left her phone on the kitchen counter next to a note that had said she had gone on a hike, so that her dad and Kira knew she didn’t have it. She didn’t want to see or be contacted by anyone, and she meant it wholeheartedly. Walking into the forest following the worn, dirt path through the what seemed to be never ending trees, the smell of the earthy air mixed with the leftover rain smell from earlier in the morning was intoxicating. She loved it. It was something she craved in Seattle, which was a never ending smell of car fumes and other awful aromas. It was something she grew to love, but she never felt at peace there. She felt as if there was a piece of her missing in Seattle, and being back in La Push had seemingly filled that feeling, though she would never admit it outloud to anyone, ever.

Tallulah felt free in the woods as she continued down the overused path, following all the twists and turns, up all the little hills. The crisp air burned her lungs as she struggled to keep her breathing laboured. She was never one for exercise and it was really starting to show but she continued anyway. The wind seemingly picked up the higher she got from the ground, the leaves of the trees around her bristling with it. This was the most at peace she had felt since arriving in LaPush. No one was around to tell her what to do or how to act, just herself and her thoughts. It was nice for a change.

She arrived at a little clearing just in front of a cliff and decided to take a small break, leaning up against one of the many trees around her. She could hear the waves of the ocean from her spot, but was too nervous to get closer to the edge of the cliff.

A branch breaking nearby caused Tallulah to swivel quickly in the direction she thought it came from, the feeling of being watched by something giving her an uneasy feeling, she forced herself to continue in the direction she had been headed. She was too far into her hike to turn back now, she thought to herself. Walking up another steep area, she held onto a tree to keep her steady as she climbed the rough terrain. The bark of the old tree felt rough on her palm. As she got herself past the steep area, Tallulah surveyed what the next bit of path looked like as she continued slowly, the feeling of being watched had grown severely. The rustle of the trees and bushes around signalling that there must be an animal nearby, probably just a bunny, she thought to herself.

Taking her backpack off her back, she knelt down to unzip it, the ground keeping it up right. Grabbing the water bottle she had packed before zipping it back up. Taking a sip as she stood up, a howl ripped through the air from the area she had just been in, too close for comfort causing Tallulah to grab her bag off the ground and begin to speed walk further up the path, looking behind her to make sure the wolf wasn’t behind her. When she turned back around, Paul was walking towards her. An unreadable expression on his face. He was shirtless, in his usual cargo shorts and running shoes despite the fact that the wind felt more like knives.

“What is wrong with you? Do you know how many people are looking for you right now?” he asked, the concern was evident in his tone.

“I left a note.” she stated bluntly. It's not like she just ran away.

“And your phone!” he exclaimed.

“I wanted to be alone.” she tried to justify but Paul was having none of it.

“You can’t just come out here alone, Tal. It’s dangerous.” he stressed, “You could’ve gotten hurt and nobody would have known.” That's a fair point, she thought to herself.

“I’m not alone.” she said as she walked past him, continuing on the path, “You’re here.”

They continued forward, Paul following a few steps behind, before she stopped at another lookout. Tallulah was exhausted but too stubborn to admit, especially to Paul. There were a few picnic benches in the clearing of the lookout that she had walked over to, sitting on top with her feet on the bench, taking a sip of her water before handing it to Paul.

“How’d you find me?” she asked curiously as he took a swig of her bottle and placed it on top of the table before sitting next to her.

“Only so many trails near your house. Guess I got lucky choosing the one I did” he spoke softly. Tallulah nodded her head, looking him over. He looked so tired and she felt a bit guilty considering the events of the night before. Noticing the circular tattoo on his shoulder, two wolves howling, she couldn’t help but trace it lightly with her finger, amazed at the intricacy of. It really puts all of her little sticks and pokes to shame.

“When did you get this?” she asked quietly, shifting her eyes from the tattoo to his face.

He cleared his throat before saying, “When I was sixteen. It’s kind of a long story.” he trailed off.

She nodded her head and smiled before saying, “It’s nice.”

“You’ve got some pretty interesting ones too,” he teased, “I particularly like the little ghost you’ve got.”

Tallulah laughed, “I thought I did a pretty good job.” she said, shoving the sleeve of her jacket up her arm to look at the little ghost on her forearm that she had done when she was 15 on Halloween.

“You apply to any colleges yet” Paul asked curiously to which Tallulah nodded her head.

“Yeah, I did back in Seattle but I’m not going to get into any of them so..” she trailed off, shoving her sleeve back down her arm, hiding her hands inside her sleeve. He was looking at her, and she couldn't tell if he was confused or concerned by her statement. “I was in the arts stream at my old school. All my applications needed an extensive portfolio that I’m never going to get to finish so they're basically already rejections.” She explained, although she didn’t know if she was upset about the fact that she didn’t have all of the qualifications for the schools she had chosen. She didn’t even know if she had wanted to go to college.

“Do you regret not going to college?” she asked him, turning her body so she was facing him.

“No,” Paul shook his head, “I didn’t really have plans to go. Couldn’t you finish your portfolio here?”

“No, I don’t have any of the equipment and it's all too expensive. Besides, I don’t want to waste my time and money just to be told no.”

He nodded his head in understanding, “You’ve still got lots of time to figure out what you want to do next.” he placed his warm hand on her knee and gave it a comforting squeeze causing her cheeks to flush more than what the cold had already caused. Whether the cold was making her mind delirious and the warmth radiating off Paul's body was too inviting, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning over and pressing her cold lips to his warm ones. It was soft and gentle but also sent shockwaves through her body.

Realizing what she had just done, Tallulah pulled away quickly, eyes wide and wild, “I shouldn’t have.. Oh my..I’m sorry, you have -” she rambled before being cut off by Paul pressing his lips back to hers. His large hand came to rest on her cheek, her eyes fluttered closed. She kissed him back with the same need that he had. It felt like one timeless and passionate moment that she would never be able to relive again and she reveled in it.

Tallulah brought her hand up to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers into his overgrown hair. It was all so sensual and smooth, nothing like any of the boys she had ever kissed before. Nothing like Xander. She felt guilty for thinking about him while her lips were connected to Pauls but it brought her back down to reality, she pulled away from him keeping her eyes cast to the ground. She separated herself from him and stood up from the picnic table, “We shouldn’t have done that.” she said quickly.

“Tal,” Paul reached for her but she shook her head, “You have a girlfriend! And I-” she stopped herself taking a deep breath, looking up at him not knowing what to say.

Paul chuckled, “I don’t have a girlfriend. But hey” he raised his hands up in defense, “It was a momentary lapse of judgement on your part but I’m not going to apologize. I wanted to kiss you, so I did.” he stated.

“Fine , you don’t have a girlfriend and I kissed you first but it’s never going to happen again.” she tried to state firmly, knowing damn well she wanted nothing more to walk up and kiss him again.

“Fine.” he agreed, standing up and in front of her. She sighed exasperatedly, standing on her tippy toes, both hands clasping his cheeks, “Just one more.”

Taglist: @cperry0516 , @bhasbhabiessss, @fuzzyfingersandcavier @haventdecidedyet

#paul lahote #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote imagine #twilight wolf pack #you know im no good

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ghostburs-blue · 4 years

Text

Gas Station Coffee

Summary: y/n and reid are literally oblivious lmfao, classic best friends to lovers trope

Warnings: angst if you squint, lots of fluff! some kissing though

Word count: 3.8k

a/n: i really hope you like this guys!! i’ve worked for the past 4 hours straight on this asjdhnaksdjh <33 this has not been beta-ed! im tired, please forgive me if you notice any spelling or grammatical errors. much love!

Spencer stepped into the bullpen with his favorite tan coat slung over his arm, eyes immediately casting towards the desk where he knew you sat. A small smile played across his lips as he saw JJ leaning over your shoulder, pointing and laughing at something on your computer screen. He watched, entranced, as you looked over at JJ and grinned before doubling over in fits of your own laughter.

He found himself walking towards you as if he couldn’t control his own actions. His feet brought him directly in front of your desk.

You glanced up at him, eyes beginning to sparkle when you realize who it was. “Spence!” You squealed, and it was all you could do to stop yourself from launching at him.

With an amused “woah!”, Spencer’s arms engulfed your frame, stumbling backwards ever so slightly. He buried his head into your hair, inhaling the smell of your rose shampoo.

You pushed at his body ever so slightly, signalling him to give you some space. He stepped back, taking in the sight of your blushed cheeks and slightly ruffled hair. Heat rose to his face at the thought of you looking like this under him-

“Spencer?” Your voice cut into his thoughts, and Spencer refocused onto you waving a hand in front of his face. You smiled at him, pure happiness filling your gaze. “JJ just left, you guys have a case,” you explained, laughing at the frown that now adorned Reid’s features.

“Ugh,” he groaned, pulling you in for a quick hug and forehead kiss before dashing towards the round table.

You stood, stunned, hand slowly rising to the top of your head. Did Spencer just give you a kiss? You thought, astounded. You sat down again, though you still felt like you were in shock. You eventually got to work, though the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin never faded.

15 minutes later, you noticed the team quickly leaving the conference room, everyone heading to their desks to grab go-bags before making their way to the airstrip.

You noticed Reid grabbing his duffel from under his desk, and you gently placed a hand on his bicep. He looked up at you, flushed.

Before you even said anything, he responded. “California,” he whispered. “We’re going to California.”

You tried to hold in your disappointment, but judging by the softness overtaking Spencer’s gaze, you assumed it was showing. It was his turn to grab your hand, and you ignored your heart beating furiously in your chest.

“It’s so far,” you whispered, sadness lacing your tone.

He offered a tiny smile in an attempt to comfort you. “I know, I know,” he replied. “But we can call any time I’m on break, okay?” He reassured you.

You nodded, fully knowing you never call him on breaks because that was the one time he could sit in solitude.

You pulled him in for a quick hug, punching his shoulder slightly as you break away. “Go be a hero,” you laughed, attempting to mask your dread. He chuckled in response before grabbing his luggage and walking away, not looking back.

You watched with a heavy heart, only turning when you heard Garcia calling your name, asking for help with some files.

A few days passed without any contact from Reid. You had assumed your regular position in Garcia’s office, ranting to her while playing with one of her many bobbleheads as she listened and gave you advice as you spoke. It was a comical sight, really; you lay in a chair that you had reclined back as far as possible with a pink feathery bobble in your hands as you spoke, while Garcia spun her chair in circles and gave you advice to your life problems.

The topic in question today was Spencer. To be fair, the topic for the past few weeks had been Spencer. Garcia was sure he liked you back, but you were too scared to make a move or ask him about it.

“Does he like me or does he not?” You exclaimed, frustrated. Penelope had stopped spinning, and seemed to be trying to tell you something. “Like honestly, it’s not hard to stop sending mixed signals!”

You quickly quieted down as you glanced over at where Garcia sat, eyes ghosting over the computer screen and widening as you met the faces of four very amused agents.

Garcia groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “$10 to whoever can guess who y/n was talking about first,” she joked, and the group laughed. You bowed your head sheepishly.

Thankfully, Reid wasn’t there; he and Rossi had gone back to the M.E. to get some tox screen reports. However, JJ, Emily, Hotch, and Morgan very much were there, and were very much trying to hold back their smirks.

You zoned out as you heard Morgan and Hotch discussing a possible unsub with Garcia, instead thoughts racing with what could have been.

What if Reid had been there? What would he have done? Would he have thought you were talking about him?

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts; you knew enough about psychology to know stressing about something that didn’t even happen was just setting yourself up for failure.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, though your cheeks still burned with shame every time you thought about what had happened a few hours ago.

You made it home fine, pushing the door open with your key in the lock. You sighed as you slid off the small bag you took to work; there were some extra files you needed to take care of that you weren’t able to finish at the office.

It was nearing midnight when you finally finished working through the pile of paperwork. Your eyesight blurred slightly as you tried to focus on the clock in front of you. Cursing, you realized you had forgotten to put in your nightly contacts.

Stumbling to the bathroom, you placed the tiny pieces of plastic in your eye and blinked in an attempt to clear your vision.

You groaned as the fluorescent lights in your bathroom suddenly became too bright. A hand came up to shield your eyes, making your way to your bedroom. As you fell onto the bed, your phone started to buzz next to you. You let out a sound of frustration as you grabbed it and lifted it up to read who was calling you at this hour. Your eyes widened as you read Spencer’s contact name in bold across the screen.

Scrambling to pick up the call, you exhaled a sigh of relief as you heard a croaking voice say, “y/n?”

Worry overcame you once again, however, when you noticed how tired and sad he sounded.

“Spencer? Are you okay?” You asked quickly. You did some math in your head before realizing it was well over 3 am in California. “Why are you calling me so late?”

You were met with silence on the other end of the line, permeated with the occasional sound of sniffles.

“Oh, Spence,” you whispered into the receiver, feeling your heart break. “What happened?” You asked, though in your heart, you already knew the answer.

“We couldn’t save him,” he quietly cried, and you could feel your body yearning to comfort him.

“Baby,” you whispered, not thinking before you spoke. Your breath caught in your throat, but Reid didn’t seem to notice or care. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Reid was full on sobbing on the other end of the line at this point, and you felt tears rising to your own eyes as you listened to his heart wrenching cries.

You continued to whisper sweet nothings into the phone until he calmed down, still hiccuping slightly.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay baby?” You asked, worried for him and his well being.

“Can I video call you?” You could barely make out the sound of his voice, but you nodded quickly before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“Uh- yeah, yeah of course Spencer,” you murmured. In an instant, you received the video call request on your phone. You quickly accepted, letting out a small gasp as you met Reid’s red rimmed and puffy eyes.

“Could we please just-” His voice broke slightly, and your chest ached for the poor boy even more. “Could we please just stay on call? For- For the night?”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. Reid asking to fall asleep with you over video call wasn’t unheard of, but had only happened a few times before.

You tended to stay awake until you were sure he was asleep, but you never told him that.

So that’s how your night ended, watching the face of the man you loved as he slowly drifted off to sleep across the country, instead of in your arms like he should be.

The case ended soon after that, the whole team opting to leave immediately instead of spending one more night in California.

You and Garcia waited like normal at the office for them to come back home. This time, however, you were a little extra nervous. Maybe it was the video call a few nights ago, maybe it was the slip up in front of your coworkers. Whatever the reason, you were antsy, constantly shifting your weight back in forth between your feet and fidgeting with your hands.

You were in the middle of a staring contest with the ground when the sound of the elevator door opening caused you to look up. A small smile spread across your face as you saw Penelope practically run towards Morgan. You gave a quick hug to everyone else, but faltered before you got to Spencer.

He offered you a tired grin, the eyebags prominent under his eyes.You frowned slightly, sizing him up. His clothes hung a little more than usual on his already lithe frame, causing you to tut disapprovingly.

“Mr. Reid, how much did you eat over the course of the past week?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. The members of the team who hadn’t already dispersed laughed, knowing Spencer was in for a scolding.

Reid shook his head, a smile making its way onto his features. He stepped forward and practically engulfed your body, catching you by surprise. “I missed you too y/n,” he whispered into the hug.

The team had a mandatory day off after every case they finish, meaning they could all sleep in as much as possible. This normally meant you would spend the night at Spencer’s apartment, waking up to the sight of his adorable bed head and sleepy voice.

This night, however, was much different. Reid practically never left you alone the whole way back to his apartment, whining when you attempted to remove the hand he had placed on your thigh while you drove the both of you to his apartment (you had deemed Spencer unfit to drive after the long flight).

Even when you fell asleep next to him in his large bed, his arm managed to snake its way around your waist, legs looping around yours.

The next day came and went; Spencer continued to be clingy and you continued to let him. You knew it was rare when he would let his guard down, and you wanted to make him feel as comfortable around you as possible.

The next morning you woke up, feeling more tired than usual. You picked up your usual coffee from your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop, sluggishly hauling yourself to work.

If anyone seemed to notice your strange demeanor, they didn’t say anything. You got through about half of the day before you realized something was wrong; you hadn’t seen Reid at all yet.

So, leaving the large stack of files that needed sorting behind, you set out to search for him.

You had almost given up all hope for trying to find him until you rounded the corner to Morgan’s office. You heard voices echoing, and you could barely make them out through the closed door.

You quietly creeped to the door, placing your ear against it as you strained to understand what they were saying. “But what if she doesn’t like me?” Your heart dropped slightly. That was Spencer, you were sure.

“Kid, you’re going to be fine. Just do what I told you to, and everything will turn out alright.” That was definitely Morgan.

He didn’t like you. He liked a different girl all along.

You choked back a sob as you quickly ran to the bathroom, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle any noises as you made a mad dash for a stall.

You stayed there, crying quietly, for at least 10 minutes. You thanked the Gods above that you had decided to wear minimal makeup that day.

You attempted to dry your face as best as possible with the toilet paper in the stall (gross, you know), before finally emerging from the bathroom.

Because your luck was just fabulous that day, you practically slammed into Spencer’s body as you were exiting the restroom.

The moment Reid took in your puffy and disheveled appearance, you knew you were done before. You tried to maneuver around him, but for such a skinny person, he was quite strong. He grabbed your arms and turned you to face him, gently lifting your chin with a single finger to meet his gaze. You almost crumpled right then and there.

“What happened y/n?” Spencer asked, voice soft and full of concern. Your mind raced to come up with a lie.

“My uh- my childhood dog died?” You offered weakly, internally beating yourself up. A childhood dog? You didn’t even have a pet growing up! You thought to yourself, making a mental note to get better at lying, especially to Reid.

Something shifted in his gaze, and he stepped back abruptly, letting your chin drop without his finger to push it up. Confused, you looked at him, only to find a cold stare looking back at you. You instinctively drew your hands around your body; you did it every time you felt scared in a situation.

You thought you noticed a flicker of something in his gaze, but you couldn’t be sure. Reid gave you a tight-lipped smile, then swiftly turned and walked away. You were left staring at his retreating figure, extremely confused.

The next few days were, to put it lightly, hell. You hadn’t texted or called him in forever, nevertheless actually spoken to him in person. It seemed like he was purposely avoiding you; you couldn’t figure out why.

At this point, you had had enough. You slammed your pen down on your desk, marching over to where Spencer sat hunched over some paperwork.

“Reid,” you started, coldly. He looked up at you, poorly masking his shock. You never called him Reid, ever. “We’re going for a walk, leave your stuff.”

You turned and headed to the glass doors without checking if he was following you. Sure enough, you heard the soft padding of his footsteps behind you.

You walked into the elevator, holding it open for Spencer to come in too.

When the doors closed, he turned to you. “So, will you finally tell me what’s happening?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” You asked, still staring straight ahead. You could see him opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of the corner of your eye. He clearly hadn’t expected you to be so… blunt.

“I- uh- what?” He stammered.

You turned to face him with a no nonsense expression. “I said what I said. Why have you been ignoring me, Spencer?”

His face turned sheepish and red, and he ducked his head as he muttered something. You frowned, not catching what he said.

“Huh?” You asked him to repeat it.

This time, you could make out the words.

“Derek told me to,” he murmured, ashamed. You frowned, still not following.

“What do you mean?” You asked, the pieces not clicking together in your mind.

Reid sighed. “I asked him for girl advice…” He started.

Your eyes widened, and your hand flew over your mouth. “No,” you whispered.

At this point, you both had reached the ground floor of the building already and had exited the elevator.

Spencer’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

It was your turn to be embarrassed. “Remember when you saw me crying a few days ago, and I said my childhood dog had died?”

Spencer nodded.

“Well-” You started, only to be cut off.

“That was a lie,” Reid stated, surprising you. Before you could say anything, he went on. “You didn’t have a childhood dog, much less a pet of any kind. Your mom is scared of animals,” he said. You continued to stare at him with your mouth open.

“How did you…” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the question.

“You told me the first time we ever hung out outside of work,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “I remember things, you know.” You nodded, smiling to yourself slightly. “So what exactly did Derek tell you?” You asked, curious.

“He told me to play hard to get. You know, ignoring texts, not talking to you, etc.” Reid explained, and you nodded. You were going to kill Derek.

Spencer sighed, and put out a hand to stop you from walking. You turned to face him. “Look- I don’t know how to see this but I really like you. Like, like like you. A lot,” he stammered. You giggled slightly. It wasn’t everyday that you heard the famous Dr. Spencer Reid stumble over his own words.

“Spencer, I like like you too,” you laughed.

“Really?” He whispered, eyes hopeful.

“Really, you confirmed,” amusement present on your features. Without a second to spare, you leaned in and captured his lips in a perfect kiss.

You two broke apart after a few seconds; Spencer’s chest was heaving. Whether it was nerves or he was out of breath, he couldn’t tell.

You two walked back to the bullpen, hand in hand and happier than you’d ever been.

You cursed as you pushed through the glass doors, holding a hot coffee in one hand and an unwrapped Ring Pop in the other. You turned and looked for Spencer with a smile on your face.

You and Spencer had been dating for 3 years, and you were extremely content to spend the rest of your life with him.

You were currently wearing his extremely oversized sweater, the sleeves so big on you that they dangled past the tips of your fingers. You were also sopping wet from the rain outside.

It was a cold winter day in Quantico, meaning lots of rain. It was around 7 pm, and it wasn’t uncommon for the team to stay until 9 to finish going through and completing case files.

Spencer had wanted coffee, but you knew how much he hated the break room coffee. Oddly enough, Reid loved your local corner store turned gas station’s coffee. Even though there was a thunderstorm outside, you had made the trek to the store to pick up a steaming cup of joe (and a Ring Pop for yourself).

The beautiful sounds of pure laughter fell upon your ears as your gaze rested upon your very own Spencer Reid. His face was stretched into a wide grin as he gazed at you.

You made your way over to him before he grabbed the edge of your (well, technically his) sweater and pulled you towards him.

“I got coffee,” you waved the hot cup tantalizingly in front of his face, prompting him to lean in and kiss you deeply.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt yourself smile.

“I know,” you whispered back teasingly. You placed the coffee and Ring Pop down on his desk. Immediately, Reid pulled you into a warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for who knows how long, simply enjoying each other’s presence as you buried your head into his collarbone. He held you oh so tight against his chest, as if he was your shield against the evils of the world.

You leaned up and began to pepper his face with kisses, making him squirm and laugh slightly. You were glad the rest of the team was sitting elsewhere to finish their papers.

You suddenly noticed Spencer pull back from you, lifting you up and placing you on the chair he was sitting on.

You closed your eyes, frowning at the loss of your personal heater. Opening your eyes, you were surprised to see Reid wasn’t in front of you.

Looking down, you could feel your heart start racing.

Spencer was on one knee in front of you, a stupid grin on his face. Instead of a ring, he held your untouched Ring Pop in his hands, cradling it as if it were made of glass.

You gasped, eyes filling with tears.

“These past 3 years have been the best of my entire life, y/n,” his voice cracked slightly as tears streamed down his face. “I know this is a Ring Pop and this is out of the blue and you’re probably extremely unprepared-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off. He looked up at you in surprise. “What?” He asked.

“Shut up,” you repeated. You slowly pulled yourself off the chair, kneeling down to be at eye level with him. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss, one that you hoped would explain everything.

Your salty tears mixed together, creating a briny taste as your tongues clashed.

Spencer broke apart first, gasping for air slightly. “Is that a yes?” He asked, breathlessly.

You grinned, leaning back in. “Yes,” you whispered against his lips.

Reid slipped the candy onto your finger, making you giggle. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you laughed, pure joy flowing in your veins.

“Me too,” Reid admitted, causing you to kiss him once more.

A loud thud followed by a scream echoed throughout the room, causing the two of you to jump apart and look around, alert and ready.

Garcia stood at the entrance to the bullpen, a mess of files laying scattered at her feet. Her eyes darted between the “ring” on your finger to the amused look on your guys’ faces, causing you to laugh loudly.

You held your hand up, pointing to the ring, shaking it slightly. “I’m getting married!” You squeal.

Penelope matches your energy, running up to give you a hug. The sound of footsteps rings through the large room, causing you all to look up.

“We heard a scream,” Morgan explained, worry covering his features. You laugh, once again pointing to your ring.

“I’m going to be a married woman!” You exclaim. Suddenly, you and Spencer were both being bombarded with hugs, and “congratulations!” resounding in the air. Rossi clapped Reid’s back with a “so, a Ring Pop, huh?”, causing you all to laugh.

You looked up at Spencer’s face, smiling to yourself.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way, you thought to yourself.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #reader x spencer reid #bau x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fandom #y/n #reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #roo’s fics

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softhxtch · 3 years

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TITTLE: FBI Charity Blind Date Night SUMMARY: For last four years FBI has been organizing a lot of events for charities. One of them are blind dates. This year Emily, Penelope and Derek decided to join in with Hotch’s name. Let’s just say, that at first he’s not the happiest person in the world. PAIRING: female! reader x Aaron Hotchner CHARACTERS: reader, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia (at the beginning), Angela, Olivia (OCs), Daivd Rossi and Spencer Reid (literally mentioned once) WARNINGS: none (?), it’s just fluff and cuteness, I mean they go to the hospital, nothing bad happens, but be aware of errors and mistakes. ALSO in this story Jack is not born, not sure why just thought it would fit better. ALSO2: CAC - Crimes Against Children Unit WORD COUNT: 4,5K A/N: i’ve had a long break from writing and with this new year I decided to break it. there’re probably a lot of mistakes, so feel free to correct me. english is not my first language and i’m doing this just for fun!

'Did you send everything correctly? Are you sure?', Emily asked looking over Penelope's shoulder. She tried to keep up with whatever blonde woman was doing, but it was hard since she was moving so fast with her work.

'Yes! Who do you think I am?', Penelope answered with raised voice. Her head was shaking but eyes still glued to the screen. 'Can't you just trust me?'

'I do, we all do. But don't you think it's weird, that we still didn't get anything from-', Emily argued, but didn't even finish the sentence as her work phone started to make sound. She quickly picked it up with short 'hello' and was listening to whoever was on the other side. Her face was slowly changing as more and more words were going through the phone. Emily's eyebrows were risen and eyes bigger, scanning the room around her. Finally she nodded quickly and after adding short 'of course', she put the phone down. 'Hotch wants to see us.', Emily explained.

'Oh god.', was all Penelope could say. She stood up quickly, putting her laptop down on Emily's desk. 'I guess he got the message. Today's the day we die.', she added as dark haired woman also stood up, nodding

'Come on, Derek. You're going with us.', Emily pointed at him, raising her eyebrow.

'Me? I didn't even do anything!', man defended himself.

'It's all your fault anyway. You came up with the idea. Come on.', she added.

'Fine, but to be fair it's our idea. You're as much in it as I am. Just so we're clear.', Derek pointed out, as Emily rolled her eyes. 'Let's go.'

Derek's words were like a signal, because after that all three of them moved towards the Chief's office. They knew it was coming sooner or later. They would be called to see Hotch, he probably would be angry at what have they done, maybe furious and that's it. Maybe they would get more paper work to do. But it was unavoidable, Hotch would find out sooner or later. And some like Derek would prefer it to be sooner, but some like Emily or Penelope - later.

Derek was the one to lead the way to Agent Hotchner's office, with two women right behind him. He knocked two times one the door and opened them after hearing 'come in' from inside. Aaron was sitting in his chair, focused on papers in front of him. Pen in one hand, tracing text that for most people was really hard to understand.

All three agents looked around just to see any signs, that they could help. They paid a lot of attention to the big desk with a lot of papers on it, but everything was the same. Nothing too suspicious, but then in front of there were three chairs. Not one or two as usual. Like especially for them.

'Everything's okay?', Penelope was the first one to break the silence.

'Yes.', Aaron’s answer was short as he looked up from his papers with a raised brow. 'Is there a reason why something's should not be okay?'

'No. Of course no, sir.', blonde woman laughed as all three of them walked more inside the room.

'You wanted to see us?', Emily asked, her voice was quieter than usual.

'Did I?', Aaron answered back with an questions, putting his pen down. All three of the agents looked at each other with confused faces.

'Emily said-'

'What exactly did Emily said?', he asked. Aaron tilted his head, waiting for an answer. His face was stoic and stern as usual, very hard to read for any of them.

'Emily said you wanted to see us.', Derek answered. His eyebrows were furrowed, with thousands thoughts going through his mind per second. He was very much present when dark haired woman got the phone call, but all of the sudden he wasn't sure about it anymore. Maybe she heard something different? Or mixed up his words?

Hotch just nodded slowly. He moved his eyes from Derek to Emily, who was confused with this whole situation. She knew what he said, but just to be one hundred percent sure she went through the short conversation they had, like fifty more times.

'You said, and I quote, 'I want to see you in my office as fast as you can'.', Emily said slowly, her hands in front. It's like she was trying to calm herself down from this confusing situation.

'Exactly. I didn't specify who 'you' is.', man sitting in the chair said, like it was the most obvious thing on the world.

'Oh my God.', Penelope said, waving hands in front of her face as if she was trying to stop the tears. You could visibly see Emily's shoulders going down, her letting out breath she was holding for a long time. Derek just let out quiet laugh and shook his head.

'But since all three of you came here, then I guess something's happened.', he added, putting his hands together on top of the desk. 'You did something, that you know you shouldn't do and now you're just waiting for the consequences. That's why all three of you came here together.'

'I thought we weren't suppose to profile each other.', Derek said.

'Yes, especially when not everyone in the room is a profiler.', Penelope added with a firm nod.

'Garcia, you don't need to be a profiler to see all three of you having weird conversations, barely working in the office and basically being constantly out of place.'

'We didn't do anything wrong.', Derek said, pointing at all three of agents.

'Okay.', Aaron said quickly nodding. 'But next time when you put name that isn’t yours somewhere, you make that person is aware that you're doing this. And they give you their consent.'

'We didn't put anyone's name anywhere', Emily finally said something after, what felt like, hours of standing in their boss's office.

'Agent Hotchner, we write to thank you for joining our 4th annual FBI Charity Blind Date Night. Don't worry we'll make sure to choose precisely your date, just they way you put it in our questionnaire. Thank you so much and see you in February!', man read the email he got few hours ago.

‘You don’t have any proof, that it’s us, sir.’, Penelope said, her voice cracking at the end. Derek just sighed and closed his eyes, knowing how screwed up they are. ‘Anyone could do this!’

‘True, but you three are on the first place.’, he said like it was something obvious. The rest just looked a bit confused how they were first suspects, which made older man sigh. ‘The next one was Rossi, but he’s been out of town for the last few days. In the past he tried to set me up for few dates, but I don’t think he would do it through blind date, that you have to do questionnaire before. Who’s next?’, he asked, making his thinking face for a second, before continuing. ‘JJ? She has her own life and two kids to take care of. I don’t think she would have time to play with something like this. Oh and on top of that, she doesn’t put herself in someone else’s business. The last one is Reid and we all know, that he didn’t do it.’

‘But you have no proof, that all of us did it.’, Penelope started. Her hands were shaking and she started rambling, not knowing how to get out of that situation.

When Derek and Emily came to her with this whole idea of putting their boss in a blind date she didn’t know what to think about it. She thought that maybe it was a good thing. After divorcing Haley and breaking up with Beth, Hotch didn’t do much dating, or at least that they knew about. And Penelope thought that someone like Aaron Hotchner deserves to be happy. He deserves to laugh with someone who he likes and is not necessarily in a team or a friend of his. She wanted him to have a person, who would be with him in tough times and would take care of him when he needed it. Hotch is a tough person, but Penelope Garcia strongly believed, that there’s a person in this world who would understand him. He just needed to start looking and if she could help, she would do it.

Of course there’s also a lot of guilt, because whether she liked it or not, she was messing with his boss’s personal life. And how would they even tell Hotch about the fact, that they put him into FBI blind date. Penelope knew he would be furious and angry. So this kind of reaction was weird for her. Hotch wasn’t screaming, showing any anger. Nothing. Maybe a little annoyed, but that’s it.

‘Penelope.’, Derek started, trying to make her stop. She was only making it worse, by digging the topic.

‘You can be mad at us all you want, but a date would be a good thing for you.’, Emily started, making Hotch raise his eyebrows. Derek just groaned in the back, wishing for it to be over. ‘You know, sometimes it’s good to get out of your comfort zone.’

‘My comfort zone?’, he repeated.

‘Yes.’, dark haired girl answered. She put her hands together in front of her, not knowing where she’s exactly going with this conversation. ‘You have to go out sometimes, Hotch. Have conversation with someone, that’s not us. Have a meal, that wasn’t pre made months ago, drink wine and make jokes. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll meet someone wonderful.’, she ended, going closer and closer to the man as she was going on with her speech.

‘I’m not in a mood for a relationship, Prentiss.’, Aaron shook his head, putting some papers together on his desk.

‘That’s why we put you on a ‘friendship list’. It means, that you’re there as a friend and for chairty, not really looking for a lover.’, Penelope said quickly, stepping forward towards Emily.

‘The answer is still ‘no’, so please cancel my application.’, he shook his head, looking at the papers in his hands. When he hear any movements or complaint from the three agents in the room, he looked at them again. ‘I will pay the charity in return. And I guess you had to put some money into it too, so I will pay it off. But please withdraw my name from the list.’

‘But sir.’, Penelope started again, bringing his attention. ‘Maybe you should consider what Emily’s said. You know, new experiences.’, she added with nervous laugh.

‘So what’s the bet about?’, Hotch asked, leaning back with curious face.

‘If you go Rossi said, that he’ll do our reports for a month.’, Emily said after few seconds of debating if she should actually say anything else.

‘And if I don’t?’

‘We have to do this for a year.’, Derek admitted.

‘Please, Hotch.’, Emily begged, coming closer to his desk and leaning on it. She looked into his eyes for few seconds, trying to get some mercy from him. ‘I’m still half way through Reid’s reports from last month. I can’t lose this one!’

‘Well, you should’ve thought about this before going into another bet.’, Aaron answered, trying to keep his stern face, but Derek saw one side of his lips rising for a split of a second. ‘Now like I said, withdraw my name from that list and please go back to work. All of you. You can go and please close the door.’, he added. After finishing the sentence he went back to his paper, waiting for them to leave and when they did, he just couldn’t stop himself from small smile.

'I thought you wanted to go.', Angela said as we entered my office. She had one of the flyers of the charity events that she took from the entrance to the FBI building.

'Yeah, I did. But half of kids at the kindergarden are sick, I have a feeling, that Olivia is next.', you said, putting bag on the desk. You turn around to your friend and gave her apologetic smile. 'And I don’t wanna leave my sick child with my sister-in-law. She already helps me enough.'

'I'm sorry.', Angela just said, not knowing how to actually react. 'I know, that after last year you wanted to go.'

'Yeah, it sounded pretty fun.', you nodded. 'Plus it would be nice to finally get a kiss on the lips. Or talk to someone in full sentences.'

'Excuse me?', Angela joked, pointing at herself.

'Outside of this office.', you shook head, letting out quick chuckle.

'Someday you'll find someone. I'll make sure of this.', she said, coming closer to you. She stopped for a second and gave you quick hug, trying to make you feel better.

'It'll be kind of hard. Usually when they find out, that I have three year old child, they run. If they don't, then they get scared when I tell them I work for the FBI. And when I go on a date with agent they usually do this, because I'm a Unit Chief and have connections with a lot of important people here.', you explained with a sigh. 'I was excited for this blind date not only for meeting new people, but also because we will be on the same position. I won't be used and person who will be choosen for me would understand where I come from.'

'I know.', she said truthfully, caressing your shoulders. 'You know what? Screw it. I'll take care of Olivia.'

'Really?', you said shocked about the proposition. You knew, that Angela was the last person on earth who would offer herself to take care of kids. It's not like she hated them, just she's not the best with them. Mainly the youngest ones. But kids found their ways to her. Especially Olivia. She always loved being next to Angela and you could be sure, that she would be happy to have her as a babysitter for few hours.

'But it's just this one time.', Angela reminded, putting one of her fingers in front of your face. You immediately agreed and hugged her as a thank you.

'So? How do I look?', you asked after walking to the kitchen. You looked at both Angela and your daughter sitting at the dinning table, consuming their supper. Your friend made circles with her fingers, asking you to turn around so she could see the back of the dress.

When the email with the set up date finally came, you were the most excited since you could even remember. It was something you looked forward to for days or maybe even weeks now. Nobody in your team didn't know about this, except Angela. And she also was very excited for you. Whenever you had breaks from cases, she would come with new ideas for a dress or make up. And even though she'd be brushed off, you actually liked it.

For a long time you had no idea what to wear. Should it be something less formal? Or full on glam outfit? But when Angela came to you with a picture of navy bodycon dress, you knew it's the one. She advised you to wear it with simple black sandals and light make up, adding darker lipstick.

'Mommy! You're so pretty!', Olivia exclaimed from her chair. She still had her mouth full from the sandwich, that you made her few minutes ago. You could see her be really excited about this night, not because you're going out, but mainly that she's gonna be playing with Angela.

'Thank you, sweetheart.', you skilled, coming closer to them. 'I'm gonna be out for few hours and you're gonna be with aunt Angela, okay?', you explained, playing with her hair. Little girl nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich. Then you stood up facing your friend. 'Okay I should be back before midnight. If I don't call you and I'm not home, then you can track my car or phone.'

'Of course, as always.', she said with a wink, which made you laugh.

'And remember, if anything happens - call me. You've been in this house so many times, so you know where everything is. But if you're unsure or Olivia does something, call me okay?', you said, raising a brow.

'Hey! Don't use your 'I'm your boss' voice!', she said, putting finger in front of your face, which made you laugh.

'That's actually my 'mom' voice.', you shook your head.

‘Doesn’t matter. Just go before you’re late.’, she said, pushing you out of the room. ‘Remember it’s really bad to be late for a date, but it’s just awful to be late on a date with FBI agent.’

Aaron was sitting in one of three restaurants, that bureau offered to cover the expenses in. He told Penelope and Emily many times to pick the table somewhere in the corner, where he and the person who was a match to him wouldn’t be in a center of attention. It was a really long time since he went on a actual date or even out with someone, that’s not on his team. For a really long time he hated this whole idea. But the one night he was sitting in his flat with a glass of whiskey and thought, that maybe, but just maybe, it’s a good idea. That maybe Emily was right?

‘I’m really sorry, I’m late.’, female voice took Aaron out of his thoughts. He looked up, expected to see someone familiar, but that wasn’t the case. He thought, that maybe it would be someone that he knew. It definitely would be easier, than starting from zero.

But even if Aaron didn’t know personally the person he’s meeting, maybe he could just recognize the face? Place it with unit, that they’re working in or at least department. But as you appeared it didn’t ring any bell. Aaron furrowed his eyebrows, which made you immediately confused and started looking around.

‘You’re from FBI, correct?’, you asked, pointing at him and then at the back, getting more and more nervous. ‘The woman in front told me to go to table number eight. And that’s it, but maybe I said something wrong and she didn’t understand-’

‘I am.’, Aaron said immediately, standing up from his seat. ‘I was just expecting someone-’

‘Different?’, you asked, smiling a bit.

‘No, no!’, he answered right away with his hands in front, like he was trying to stop you from something. ‘Someone, that I know.’, he ended, explaining.

‘Oh, of course.’, you nodded. ‘I’m Y/N Y/L/N.’, you extended your hand with greeting, after what seemed like liftime in silence.

‘Aaron Hotchner.’, he answered, shaking your hand gently. Then he motioned to the table. You just nodded as both of you sat down. ‘Which department are you from? Sorry to be put it so bluntly, I just don’t think I’ve ever met you in the bureau.’

‘CAC.’, you answered, looking up from the menu. ‘I came here from New York few months ago. Got offered Unit Chief position, better salary - guess didn’t have to think through it twice.’, you shrugged.

‘That explains a lot.’, Aaron said with small nods. You just raised a brown, silently asking the same thing he did few seconds ago. ‘I’m from BAU.’

‘Oh ‘The Dream’ unit.’, you said. The statement made Aaron very much confused. ‘When I arrived in Quantico, there were actually quite a lot of changes and I had to hire new agent to my team. And about half of them started the interview with ‘well my dream is to be in BAU, but this unit could be a good start’.’, you explained.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault. More of a complement. It’s very rare, that most of agents, that want to work in a field also want to work in your team. And I’ve also heard only good stuff about BAU.’, you said, trying to keep the conversation light.

In fact this was the last time your conversation went to the topic of work. As soon as some of the comments, that either one made, were about work, you immediately would change the topic. You promised yourself, and Angela of course, that today won’t be about work. It’ll be about having fun and going out with not-so-stranger.

Aaron saw the effort that you made and he actually really liked it. No work, no phones, no cases, no murders. Just the two of you, great food and wine, that he didn’t even drink yet. He didn’t expect it but he was actually having a good time. So this one time he would answer his previous question: Emily Prentiss was, in fact, right.

‘Excuse me for a second.’, you said, hearing vibrations of your phone from the bad. Aaron just nodded, understanding as you opened bag and looked for phone. When it was found, you immediately opened it and panicked right away.

3 missed calls

2 unread messages

9:39 I know I was supposed to call only when there’s an emergency, but I think it is.

10:21 We’re going to ER.

‘Everything’s okay?’, Aaron asked, observing very closely your reactions.

‘I-I have to go.’, you said stuttering. You picked your bag and coat, wanting to leave as fast as you can. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘What happened?’, he stood up quickly. He grabbed you by the arm, stopping from leaving the room.

'My daughter is in a hospital. And my friend, that's babysitting her won't tell me what happened.', right away the worst scenarios came to your head. What's could actually happen, that the two of them had to go to the emergency room? Did she broke a bone? Or just hit herself and needed few stitches? Or maybe she fell down the stairs and is unconscious? The questions, that were driving you crazy.

'Let's go.', Aaron just nodded and took you out of the restaurant, after paying for the whole meal.

'Wait, no. I can't ask you to come with me. I've already ruined your evening.', you shook your head as Aaron was taking you to his car.

'Don't worry about it. We can do it on a different day.', he waved you off, getting into his car. The comment caught you off guard a little. And you didn't even realize, that you were still standing on the streets until Aaron knocked on the window, getting your attention.

'Sorry.', you whispered, getting inside. He just started the engine and drove as fast as he could to the hospital that Angela land Olivia were at. 'Wait. Different day? We'll meet on a different day?', you asked, thinking about the whole conversation from few minutes ago. He laughed at how at first you didn't realize what he meant.

'If you want of course.', Aaron explained, getting slow nod from you. It was still funny for him how long it took you to get through it all. 'Look, I'm not a parent, but I can just assume, that your daughter comes first for you.'

'True.', you agreed.

'So, I could make huge scene about how you literally stormed out of our date.', he continued to explain his thoughts. 'Or just understand where you come from and help you.'

'Thank you.', you said, looking at him for the first time since you walked inside the car.

'No problem.', he said with a smile.

If it wasn’t for Aaron, you would probably be panicked, running around the hospital. Well, you still were panicked and scared of what exactly happened, but he made you a bit calmer. Told you to step back and he was asking all questions of where to go and what happened.

After twenty minutes the two of you ended up of third floor. Your heart was beating so fast, searching for either Angela or Olivia, but you couldn’t see them anywhere.

‘Y/N, you have to calm down. It won’t help-’, Aaron started, grabbing your arm. You stopped, but didn’t look at him, only scanning the room. And then you saw it. Familiar dark hair and the handbag you bought her for Christmas.

‘Angela!’, you called her name, bringing the attention. Woman turned around and let out deep breath, being visibly relieved.

‘Oh my God!. You’re finally here. I didn’t know how long I could keep her attention. She was constantly asking for you.’, Angela said. Then she looked behind you, seeing Aaron running after you. ‘Sorry for ruining the night.’, she whispered.

‘It’s okay.’, you shook your head. ‘What even happened? I leave you for few hours and you end up in hospital.’

‘We just were having fun.’, she explained and you just raised a brow. ‘Okay, we were playing tag. And then Olivia got tired, so we sat down on your bed. Then obviously she wasn’t tired anymore and started jumping up and down on your bed. And she asked me to join her, so I did. And then it broke.’, she started talking very fast and chaotic.

‘You broke my bed?’, you asked as if that was the only thing you could make out of whatever she said.

‘But I didn’t mean it. I tried really hard.’

‘And where’s Olivia now?’, you asked, trying not to get angry.

‘They took her to a cat scan. Doctor said, that her arm is probably broken.’, Angela explained, seeing you get more and more annoyed. ‘Anyway, nurses asked for legal guardian or parent, so I’m gonna go and tell her, that you’re here.’

You nodded and let her go. Your eyes were closed and head hanged down for few seconds. Were you angry? Yes. Were you annoyed? Yes. But your daughter was fine. She was alive and even though having a toddler with broken arm won’t be fun thing, you’d take it.

‘Again I’m sorry.’, you turned around to Aaron. He was still standing behind you, just watching the whole situation. ‘I won’t hold you up anymore, you can go. Thank you for everything.’

‘It’s not a problem for me to stay. If you-’, he said, coming closer to you.

‘You’ve done a lot for me today. Beside we have work tomorrow. So let it just be one of us who’s gonna stay up all night.’, you cut him. Aaron just nodded, understanding everything.

‘So, until next time?’, he asked, slowly taking few steps back.

‘That would be amazing.’, you answered. But then realized something. ‘Hey, but I don’t have-’, you started and put hands in coat pockets. Then felt something in one of them. You took it out and made on ‘oh’ sound as you read: Aaron Hotchner, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Behavioral Analysis Unit with phone number. You looked up to look at him one last time. Aaron just shot you a huge small and waved before turning around and going to the elevators.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds scenario #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fan fiction #emily prentiss #spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #david rossi

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lady-charinette · 4 years

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Adrien Agreste =/= Sociopath - About Adrien Salt

I've seen a lot of posts going around about Adrien being a sociopath or the other (harasser, abuser...etc.)

What I find most of those posts lacking is looking at the big picture, or just zeroing in on certain moments of the show and even disregarding the context of those selected moments to unfairly rule judgement on a child (in canon) no less.

Definition of sociopath: A sociopath is a term used to describe someone who has antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). People with ASPD can’t understand others’ feelings. They’ll often break rules or make impulsive decisions without feeling guilty for the harm they cause.

People with ASPD may also use “mind games” to control friends, family members, co-workers, and even strangers. They may also be perceived as charismatic or charming.

We have to analyze the context and the surroundings Adrien is in.

Family, social life, relationships (platonic and romantic), personality, age, environment...etc.

Family:

We know Adrien has a father who is controlling, preferring to micro-manage every aspect of his son's life to continue to have a semblance of control at all times. We assume (heavily implied in the show), that his mother was kind, warm and emotional (whether that emotional is the "out-there" kind her twin sister has, it remains to be seen.)

According to a snippet from "Simon Says", Adrien also has "Quite a temper, you remind me of someone" according to Gabriel's own words, we can assume the "someone" is Emilie, Gabriel says this when Chat Noir refused to follow his orders and told him to basically "get off his high horse". In this context, anyone who defies Gabriel in such a way would either be branded as "disobedient" or to "have quite a temper".

According to Adrien himself in "Adrien's Double Life" (from Miraculous Secrets) he describes being Chat Noir as "...I can finally do whatever I want to do, say whatever comes to mind." He doesnt feel as restricted and controlled since that's the one aspect of his life his father has no knowledge of.

Social life:

Adrien has had no or very little interaction with peers.

Evidence: Chloe being his childhood friend. Felix commenting on Chloe's appearance in the video she sent for Adrien's birthday, saying "Chloe. Just as annoying as usual." suggests he knows her from before, maybe even as early on as their childhood days.

This makes Felix and Chloe the only kids, of spoiled and rich background, with whom Adrien interacted.

Felix is shown to be good at manipulating people and keeping up appearances (potentially connected to insecurities within the family? Not confirmed), Chloe is openly mean and bullies others (with underlying insecurities also connected to her parents).

The only positive adult (if Gorilla isn't as involved and Nathalie had been solely Gabriel's secretary and not Adrien's caretaker since there was Emilie) in Adrien's life would be his mother, who also fell into a coma during Adrien's formative years (and still during a time where he's figuring himself and his emotions out: puberty), leaving him with his father.

Moving on, even if the writer's sometimes may not always successfully show Adrien being awkward in social interactions, it doesnt mean they dont exist.

This interaction between him and Marinette, asking for her autograph, very formal in his question, awkward in posture:

He's picked up on some speech patterns from his frequent interactions with Nino ("dude", "Hey man." "Totally dude.") showing he's, like many people, mimicking his friend's behavior and speech to grow more favorably in their eyes.

The same pattern can be observed with Gabriel and Adrien: Adrien adopts his father's formal speech whenever talking to him, since that appeases him.

Adrien has had very limited friendly interactions with his peers, romantic interactions are basically non-existent. The scenes where Adrien is being chased by his fans, who obsessively adore him, cant be linked to Adrien experiencing healthy romantic contact (Lila doesn't count since she only uses Adrien to further her goals). Marinette doesn't count since Adrien's isn't even aware of her romantic feelings for him. (Again, difficulties picking up social cues due to only ever being homeschooled > limited social contact with peers)

So no, in my humble opinion, Adrien sometimes doesn't understand other people's feelings not because he's a sociopath, but because he's an awkward kid with very little experience about making friends and having healthy relationships with them.

Relationships:

Let's be direct here: Gabriel is an abusive as*hole.

If the writer's wanted to show Gabriel struggling or having remorse for his actions being Hawkmoth and putting his son through danger, well... They blew it. "Gorizilla" was a 5 second reaction of Hawkmoth showing concern after letting Adrien fall from a skyscraper. Applause. After that? Not much.

Nathalie: Adrien likes, she takes care of him, his schedule, was the one to convince Gabriel to let him attend public school. There are moments in the show where she softens up towards Adrien, but always carries that air of professionalism on her to (possibly, assumption) not grow too close. Gorilla is...Gorilla, but at least the man tries with his nonverbal support and affectionate grunts. Lol.

Gabriel: He loves his father. It's his parent, after all. However, Adrien's reactions to him are vastly different than to how he reacts when thinking of his mother. He shows signs of fear (tensing up, growing obedient...etc.), he excuses his father's excessive controlling tendencies to just be "he's just worried about me", "that's the way he always was", "father cares and protects me". Adrien shows to be frequently disappointed with Gabriel, one of the first scenes being that Gabriel couldn't attend parent's day at school, Adrien was talking on the phone alone in the school hallway. He was genuinely surprised by the blue scarf his father gifted him (not knowing it was Marinette), since all he used to get were pens (again, not even from Gabriel, but Nathalie). This is my assumption but: Adrien has previously begged his father to go outside more or attend public school, but this time it worked only because Nathalie managed to convince him.

Friends from school: Nino is his best friend, Adrien seems to be good friends with Alya too, basically everyone in class, with varying degrees of closeness. Chloe is a childhood friend whom Adrien is fond of but also grows exasperated with and corrects her behavior if she's too harsh.

Marinette: likes and respects her, but can't read her well or at least when he thinks he's got her figured out, she claims the opposite. Marinette has been sending mixed signals, on one hand even making Adrien believe (and fear) they weren't friends. "Chat Blanc" contrary to popular belief, showed that Adrien is delighted at the prospect of Marinette being Ladybug (he'd severe doubts when Chloe or anyone else was brought up as a possible option).

Kagami: likes her, respects her, admires her fencing skills, learned to have fun hanging out with her and playing as kids usually do since she also has a controlling parent and they both know some ways/tricks around their boundaries to sneak off and meet their friends. Adrien and Kagami have similarities in that respect, Gabriel pushing Adrien to be a model, Mrs. Tsurugi pushing Kagami to be a master fencer.

Lila: At first defended her, was friendly towards her since she was a new student from overseas he sympathized because surely it would be lonely? The new girl would need a friend who supported her through all this things that were new for him too. However, as soon as he caught wind of Lila's schemes, he changes his tune. He feels uncomfortable around her overstepping his boundaries, expresses anger when Lila accused Marinette of crimes she didn't commit and even makes a deal with her to not bother Marinette again (but use him instead, doing photoshoots together...etc.) to keep her safe.

Age:

A 14-15 year old, having lost his mother, the only positive, healthy relationship in his life. Surrounded by a controlling father, not much free time, many extracurricular activities and being a superhero alongside Ladybug.

Some of the signs of being a sociopath include: Breaking rules and being impulsive.... Didn't Ladybug do those too?

Breaking the rules: (since LB and Marinette are the same) stealing phones, sneaking into places where she shouldn't, using the miraculous for personal gain (latest example: getting Kagami away from Adrien), giving Adrien the snake miraculous due to personal preference instead of drawing logical conclusions. Sneaked into the Agreste mansion.

Impulsiveness: Marinette's daily fantasies (sharing a future life with Adrien and their hamster-who-must-not-be-named), when Lila's "precious family heirloom necklace" was "stolen", Marinette was quick to include her classmates in the list of potential perpetrators for it (without ill intent, but still..)

You know who the real potential sociopath in the show is?

Gabriel

Some of you might include Lila too (since she fits all the criteria for being a sociopath), but the key difference is: Lila is still just a kid.

We don't know much about her family life. Just that her mother is busy with work, we don't know where her father is, who her friends were/if she even had them. She might be lying and manipulating people to follow her own agenda, but she thrives in attention, when people notice and praise her. In some aspects, that could've been Adrien. With one neglectful parent, a missing parent, no friends (prior to going to school)...etc. There is also a lot we don't know about her.

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morelike-bi-light · 5 years

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As much as I love our meme culture where we romanticize or slam our favs, I do genuinely think there's really interesting flaws to explore with all of the Twilight vampires. It's not developed super well in the series, not front and center since whether we see main characters make mistakes with consequences largely depends on how Meyers personally feels about them and what they represent to her, but the complexity exists and there's a whole heap of potential to explore.

Like Carlisle's need to 'save' and how it conflicts with itself. There's that post that points out exactly how selfish his decision was, seeing as how he views vampirism as damnation, and yes! That makes it so much more interesting. What would he be without this conflict? A pretty one dimensional saint figure with a million PhDs. I love that Carlisle spent hundreds of years denying himself company and then crumbled beneath a single Chicago mother's plea to save her son, in my mind as an excuse to soothe his own crippling loneliness. And then when he had someone to exist beside, he just... he did it again, ostensibly because Esme deserved better. And again, this time for Edward. Then he did it for Rose. And then they picked up Alice and Jasper, and I wonder if he felt that much more guilty knowing that if he'd just waited a decade or so more, he might've found family anyways without having to 'damn' the others. Exploring how that interacts with his religious beliefs? Sign me up.

Then there's Rosalie's resentment. It's been covered in much better depth by other users, and I think I've reblogged those posts, but the validity of her anger and fear of losing the only things that give her comfort in a life she never chose bears repeating. Not to mention how this possibly affects her relationship with her coven - it's like when your child or spouse or sibling or best friend who has depression. How do you interact with a loved one who wishes they were dead? Who thinks life, even with you, whom they claim to love, is a prison? How do you interact with the man you believe to be your soulmate when you genuinely believe that you would be better off having died before meeting him? What does it say about her sense of self prior to death versus as an immortal?

Which leads perfectly into Edward's self-flagellation. He murders and feeds, because he's a monster who deserves to feel like one - but he's not the only one who suffers from that (though we give him some points for understanding that from the get-go and targeting people he thinks deserve it). But then he feels bad for acting like a monster and he has another reason to punish himself. He deprives himself of joy and distances himself from his family because how dare a monster like he ever find comfort in others like him, and how dare he enjoy a life that's so unnatural - but his family suffers alongside him. But then he feels guilty for being a dick to them, which gives him another reason to punish himself. He sends Bella mixed signals by alternating between caring, coldness, and cruelty, because he wants her to be happy but he also doesn't want himself to be happy - but Bella suffers because of this. Then he feels guilty about putting her safety at risk, which gives him another reason to punish himself. It goes on and on, and this line of thinking hinders his growth as a character through the entire series without being properly addressed.

Bella's bull-headedness. Jasper's survivalism. There is so, so much to be said here. Even with the three least developed of the coven, Alice has her impulsivity, Esme has her passivity, Emmett has his impatience.

On the flip side, we have the native characters, who are all either poorly developed or most characterized through off hand, arm's-length negativity, so as to make the vamps look better, and all I want for them is more content exploring all the good they have to offer.

Like, Jake's defining quality is his loyalty - Smeyer may have butchered his character, but I'm not talking about the bullshit she had him do in the last two books. I want to see more exploring how warm and good and patient and generous he is with his friends, no matter what it is he's up against, be it social conflict or an emotional crisis. I mean, in the books, we only ever get to see him really care about Bella. What about Embry and Quil? There's an entire foundation to their friendship that's hardly brushed by canon. I want to see his loyalty to his father and sisters and the memory of his mother. IT is interesting when loyalties conflict, preferably with greater nuance and weight than the Uley vs Cullen dilemma, but what's more satisfying is getting to see Jacob act in his element. I wanna see his other good traits explored too, the ones that exist outside of the necessity that he be a good friend/alternate LI for Bella - like the passion he has and his down to earth attitude.

And don't get me started on the Uley pack. Sam himself had so much potential to be a nuanced foil to Carlisle - I'm going to need to make an entire other post on it, it gets me so worked up, so keep an eye out for that! But also there's Paul, who is literally just an angry caricature version of Emmett, Emily whose entire characterization is built on a mess of racist and sexist tropes, and how many of the others even get characterized at all?

And Leah. Was she done the dirtiest of not only all the native characters, but also all the females? Arguably, yeah. I'd say so. Again, there was so, so much potential to explore her even in subtle ways through the later narrative and literally next to none of it was fulfilled. By the end of Breaking Dawn I was genuinely irritated, even as a kid, because it felt like Leah had been pointed out time and time again as being so special - only important native woman, only pack member to have been ostracized through the entire series, and the only female werewolf, hello - only for none of it to be relevant literally at all to the major plot. There wasn't even any follow up. Why is she the first female wolf? What does that mean for the future of the shapeshifters? (I'm absolutely thinking about this for my - probably shorter than planned - fic, jsyk.)

Thank God for Seth, I guess. We all love Seth, but still I think even he is basically just a puppy's personality given human form. It's as if Smeyer thinks that complexity is counter blank to goodness, friendliness, and openness. (And I think this is an issue with Emmett, Alice, Esme, and Angela, too, to be fair. It's just that where those four are just Defined by a trait - boisterous, fun, gentle, and nice in turn - Seth's behavior specifically plays into a... cutesy... paternalism? That makes me narrow my eyes a bit.) Anyways, I wouldve liked to see his feelings about Charlie and Sue, or about his sister's transformation and his father's death, or uh, any of the violence against the newborns many of whom were literally his age from Eclipse? And not just in an, oh, sad boy is sad kind of way. He's not a care bear - there's gotta be some conflict about what he's been through seeing as it's a LOT.

To be real, though? In some ways, I'm actually okay with it that Smeyer dropped the ball on so many of her characters, while still giving us what we have to work with - largely because it's actually so cool to think about all the potential buried in the content we have, waiting to be unearthed. It's why, regardless of when or why it started and how long it should've lasted, I don't see myself exiting the Twilight fandom for a long time. There's so much work to be done, you know, stuff to be said, and I think it's been and is and will be a beautiful conversation. This was just meant to be a long meta, but really, I have to take a moment and celebrate everyone in the fandom who has kept it alive and funny and interesting, whether you're a staple like @howlonghaveyoubeenseventeen and @shittytwilightaus or you're just here to reblog and enjoy. We all sort of rediscovered this thing we liked in our childhood and just collectively decided to fix it and make it something worth loving as the people we are, and it makes me proud to be here!

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stxrrywildflower · 4 years

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cat fight

pairing - spencer reid x brenner!reader (platonic)

summary - after being recruited by the bau for a singular case, maxine brenner’s little sister ash has to work with a team she’s never met but has one familiar face. (set around season 11, reid has already met max and are together)

warning - cursing, violence

word count - ?

walking into the bau building on monday morning, ash brenner was a bundle of nerves.

the previous day, ash had received a call from agent hotchner requesting her to work with their team on a case that was being presented the following day.

ash worked in a different building than the bau, mainly focusing on sex crimes and counterterrorism as well as doing minor research into bombings. each had also taught her the skills of a profiler which ash thought would be why she was called in.

after walking through the glass doors, ash was unsure on where to go. she glanced around at the various agents moving throughout the floor area until an older man with black hair approached her.

“ash brenner?” he asked. in response ash nodded. “i’m agent hotchner, we spoke on the phone last night.” ash nodded, everything suddenly clicking. “yes we did sir,” she replied. “please, hotch is fine.” hotch led her up to his office and motioned for her to take a seat across from his desk

“i called you in to work on this case due to your experience in a variety of fields especially profiling and sex crimes. the case will be explained more in depth when we brief in the conference room but to some it up, the unsub is attacking people of all ages. some are killed while others are just kidnapped. we believe that it has something to do with the human trafficking ring or possible sex offenders,” hotch spoke

ash opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a knock at the door. a blonde woman appeared and looked between her and hotch. “were briefing in the conference room now,” the woman spoke before turning and walking down the hallway. hotch stood up and motioned for ash to follow him. she did and a few seconds later were in a large room with a circle table and a tv monitor.

she glanced around the room, observing her soon to be teammates. none looked familiar until a tall man with short brown hair walked in. ash narrowed her eyes at him with a slight smile which he returned. ash had forgotten that spencer reid, her older sisters boyfriend, was apart of this team in particular. judging by the rest of the teams reaction, none had realized that they had already known eachother.

“everyone this is ash brenner, she will be working on this case with us while emily is in london,” hotch announced, “that’s agents morgan, rossi, j.j., reid, and then our technical analyst garcia.” ash nodded along to the introductions before taking a seat next to morgan.

“over the past month in westfield, indiana, there have been a series of kidnappings and murders. 4 male murder victims and 4 children kidnapped. the unsubs have left notes revealing that the children are alive and well which is part of the reason we haven’t been called in. but after this recent murder, they figured they would need our help,” garcia spoke as she moved through the images. after finally settling on the 8 pictures of the victims, ash decided to speak up.

“between the killings and the kidnapping, there’s two possible motives, either involvement with the human trafficking ring and the ones killed are preventing this unsub from partaking in it. or there is the possibility that the unsub sees themself as a savior and is protecting these children and hurting those who aren’t.”

morgan nodded and added on. “by sending notes about the safety of the children it shows that the unsub has some remorse for them. maybe they work in a school or around children.”

the team discussed other possible motives before hotch announced “wheels up.” ash stayed behind for a moment and glanced over the case file. “funny seeing you here,” a voice spoke from behind her. thankfully she didn’t jump.

“hey spencer,” ash greeted, quickly putting the pictures back into the folder. “i forgot you worked with this team for a quick minute.”

spencer smiled at that. “yeah well i hope you know i’m going to have to be looking out for you extra during this case. because if you get hurt, max will literally kill me.” they both laughed. “yeah well then at least one fbi agent will be able to solve your murder.”

after take off, the team re-grouped in one end of the plane. ash sat in one of the seats and examined the pictures of the victims. the top four murdered were all males while the children were mixed. it didn’t make sense to her or to anyone else.

she was taken out of her thoughts by hotch’s voice. “reid, you and ash go to the most recent crime scene and then meet back at the station.” ash and reid smiled at eachother before listening to hotch’s instructions.

_____

three days later, the team still had nothing. another body was found but this time no children were taken. everyone on the team had agreed to work through the early hours of the morning to hopefully have a lead.

morgan and j.j. had passed out on the chairs in the conference room they set up in. hotch just shrugged and let them sleep as he and rossi went back to going over victim files. reid was going over the notes while ash stood at the board.

the team had profiled the unsub to be a male in their late 20s to early 30s and have a job revolving around children. as ash examined the profile, she realized a flaw.

“i think i figured it out,” ash called out, getting the team members who were awake attention.

“the unsub is a woman, it has to be. statistically, children are more comfortable around women due to mother like bonds. it also explains why we didn’t see a struggle with any of the children. they willingly went. and the fact that all the adults killed were males shows that they may have been seduced by this woman,” ash rambled.

hotch pondered for a moment before speaking up. “so you’re thinking a babysitter?” he asked. “that or a tutor of some kind,” ash responded. “good work,” rossi spoke as hotch called garcia.

some time later hotch returned. during his absence, morgan and j.j. had woken up. “we have three potential suspects. the best way to do this is to split up and each pair take a house. two are in the same neighborhood and one is further away. reid and ash you take that one and rossi, j.j., morgan, and i will take the closer ones.”

ash and reid rushed out to the suv as they both put their vests on. “you think she has a victim with her now?” reid asked. “i sure hope not.”

in the time that it took for reid and ash to arrive at the house of one of the suspects, the other two were already clear. they had collectively decided that they would head over to that location as backup. on the way, garcia had pulled up the cameras that were inside the house and displayed it on a computer for the team to watch during the drive.

reid and ash drew their guns and moved to the front door of the house. from inside they heard a faint yell which was their signal to move in. ash kicked the door down and the two immediately went to clearing the first floor.

from the teams view, they were silent as the pair moved throughout the house. “come on, i can’t be the only one who sees that,” morgan spoke up. “they’re moving perfectly together. you think she already knows him or something? that’s my only explanation,” rossi asked. hotch just shrugged and kept driving.

meanwhile, the two had cleared the first floor. “check the basement, i’m heading upstairs,” ash whispered. reid nodded and moved towards the door heading further down into the house as ash climbed the stairs. she cleared one of the room but felt a presence behind her.

as ash spun around, she was met with the unsub who was holding a fairly long knife. before she could react, the gun was knocked out of her hand. the unsub soon charged at her with the full intent of stabbing ash.

she dodged most of the hits and had landed a couple punches on the unsub. however, ash was currently pinned down with a knife to her throat. if she spoke, her throat would surely be slit. the unsub taunted her as she moved the knife down her forehead, cutting the skin open. it wasn’t that deep of a cut but it wasn’t shallow either.

however, with one swift move, ash managed to kick the unsub in the stomach which made her roll off. just as she grabbed her gun, the unsub was already in the back bedroom.

“reid!” ash shouted down the stairs before taking off.

the sight she was met with absolutely terrified her. the unsub was behind a man who was tied to the bed. the knife was pressed up against his throat and he was gagged but she could still hear his protest.

“you don’t have to do this maria,” ash spoke calmly, using the unsub’s real name.

“but i do! he will kill me if i won’t!” she called back, tears begining to leak from her eyes. at this point, spencer had arrived and moved behind ash.

“who will maria?” ash responded, taking a risk and slowly dropping her gun on the ground.

“my father!” maria sobbed.

“your father is dead, he can’t hurt you anymore. just drop the knife tell me where the children are,” ash made sure to speak softly.

at this statement, maria dropped the knife and sat back defeated. “attic,” she cried over and over. reid moved out of the room to the attic as ash pulled out handcuffs and successfully caught the unsub. sirens could be heard in the distance and she sighed.

once hotch jumped out of the car, ash appeared holding the unsub. morgan ran over and took her away to one of the cop cars.

“reid’s in the attic with the missing kids. there’s a guy on one of the beds upstairs who also needs help and probobly medical attention,” ash informed the team and cops who had arrived. the group rushed in leaving just hotch and ash who moved to lean against the car.

“you’re bleeding,” he informed her. she reached up to her forehead where the unsub had cut her. blood had dropped down her face and was continuing to bleed.

“yeah well getting in a cat fight with the unsub isn’t too fun,” she responded. hotch ordered her to go see the ambulance that arrived and she did just that.

in the middle of being patched up, spencer came over and sat next to her. “you call max?” she asked him. he nodded, “she’ll head over to the bau when we land. expect a scolding about your injury,” spencer informed her. she just smiled.

on the way home, everyone had pretty much passed out due to the long hours and knowing they would have to work late on paperwork. there were no nightmares due to this case being a fairly big win.

with only 10 minutes left on the flight, everyone had slowly began to wake up, all expect for ash.

“when we get back i need to see you all in the conference room. garcia has already been informed as well as emily is going to be there via phone call, don’t mention it to ash,” hotch announced before allowing reid to wake her up. everyone was beyond confused.

once arriving to the bau building, ash had told the team she needed to go down to her car to grab a bag before coming up to do her paperwork which would most likely be a lot due to her involvement with the case.

up in the conference room, hotch had grabbed a cup of coffee before begining to speak to everyone. “with emily’s absence, i’ve been thinking about something for awhile and i wanted to get all of your opinion on,” hotch started, “how would you feel about adding a new member to the team?”

everyone glanced up, a little shocked. a new member hadn’t been mentioned before. “i have someone in mind but it obviously has to be a team descision,” he added.

“i’m all for it. i think adding another mind to this team can be nothing but helpful,” morgan spoke up first. obviously garcia was on board with having another person around. “i agree, it would be nice to have a new person here,” j.j. added. reid nodded alongside her, obviously voting yes. next was rossi and prentiss, who also voted yes.

“now who do you have in mind?” rossi asked.

hotch sighed for a moment. “i was thinking about recruiting ash full time. judging her performance on the last case, she solved it and took the unsub down with mininmal harm. plus her strength and intelligence would be a great addition,” hotch suggested.

everyone smiled at his thought and instantly agreed. emily has spoke up and expressed her excitement to meet her. “i’ll go talk to her now,” hotch announced as he exited the conference room. ash walked in a few moments later and placed her bag at emily’s desk which she had been allowed to use.

“ash, can i see you in my office?” hotch called.

she nodded and began her way over to the stairs. on the way she passed the rest of the team who was grinning widely at her. that added on to her confusion.

“with your performance on the previous case, the team has come to the conclusion that we would like you to officially work with our team permanently,” hotch said, getting right to the point.

ash’s eyes widened at this. “a job offer?” she asked, hotch nodded in response. “i would love to,” ash spoke after a moment. hotch smiled and shook her hand.

“i’ll be in contact with your superior about the transfer immediately. expect to start here next week,” he told her. ash thanked him one more time before leaving his office and slowly moving back to her desk. “what did you say?” rossi called from his office.

“i said yes!” ash exclaimed resulting in cheers from her various team members. once the commotion died down, ash stood next to spencer, striking up a conversation with him.

“ash brenner,” a voice called from behind her. upon recognition, she sighed and spun around, feeling the team’s eyes on her.

“hi max,” ash greeted her sister, accepting the hug she offered. “i can’t believe you got hurt,” max groaned going into her ‘mom stage’. “i’m fine max. spencer had my back the entire time.”

upon hearing that, max moved away from ash and over to her boyfriend. she smiled softly at him before leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek. “that true? you looked out for her?” max asked. spencer nodded, “yes i did, and she even took down the unsub herself.”

max turned around. “way to go baby sis.” ash now figured it would be a good time to tell her. “and i got offered a job on the team,” ash added.

after a congratulation from max, she now had to leave. with a quick squeeze to ash’s shoulder and another kiss to spencer’s cheek, max was moving out the doors of the bau.

“brunch at 9 tomorrow!” she called on her way out.

the two smiled and turned back to the team. “they did know each other!” morgan exclaimed throwing his pen down making everyone in the room laugh.

65 notes · View notes

need-a-new-hobby · 4 years

Text

Memoriam

Piper chewed on her lip as Rossi sat, sipping his cappuccino. Derek pulled the bulbous lever next to her, the loud clanging beating Emily’s ears into oblivion. She kept staring at the bright sunlight streaming through the wall to ceiling window onto the potted fern, tapping her foot as Emily stumbled and pleaded with Derek to stop, oblivious to the guffaw emitted by Derek at her hangover. She only woke from her stupor when Emily plopped down next to her, muttering her hate for Vegas. “How could you hate Vegas, Em?” Morgan laughed. “This is a grown folk's playground.” Piper snickered half-heartedly as JJ and Hotch joined them.

“Where’s Reid?”

“He stayed with his mom last night, but he should be here by now. He knows the departure time and it only takes a few minutes to--” Piper trailed off as she caught the familiar brown, tousled hair bobbing into the hotel. Her eyebrows crossed as he explained he was going to stay in Vegas for a few days to stay with his mom. Emily just shrugged, slipping on her sunglasses as she dragged her bag out to the SUV with JJ. They slipped away, one by one and Piper stood, hand smushed in the back of her jean pocket, teetering on her heels. She watched Reid shrug off JJ’s concern before telling her to take care of the two of them, glancing towards her bulging baby bump. As JJ walked off, Spencer smiled at Piper. “You look like you slept well. No nightmares?”

“Fine. How, uh... how’d those cookies turn out?”

“Let’s just say I hope she finishes them before we get back.” He chuckled but the laugh died in his throat at her grim face.

“Everything cool?”

“You know, you keep trying to hide it even though I can see right through you,” she murmured, and Spencer’s hands travelled to his trouser pocket.

“Pipes, I just-- I need to deal with this myself.” Piper nodded.

“You’ll--”

“I’ll call if I need anything.”

“Kay...” They stood there awkwardly until Rossi yelled out for her. “Sorry. Um…take care Spence.” She waved stiffly before walking away, still worried. Spencer watched his team leave and his smile wavered as he left to make his way to the precinct a few miles from his old house. No later had Piper and Rossi seen him drive off, they snuck back into Spencer’s room. As Spencer looked through Riley Jenkins’ records, Piper lay out vending machine snacks and Rossi switched on the Young and the Restless. Spencer balanced the box on his thigh and heard voices through the main door to his hotel room.

“So, let me get this straight… Yolanda reported Ana as a missing child, so the police took Ana away from Tyra? Even though Tyra’s the legal guardian?”

“Yep.”

“And Katherine’s amnesia means she’s working at the diner? But retrograde amnesia doesn’t work like—”

“What are you guys doing here?” Spencer asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced between Rossi and Piper sipping soda, plopping down his box of files.

“What does it look like?” Rossi retorted. Spencer snorted as Piper caught a popcorn kernel in her mouth.

“Uh, breaking into my room and watching "Days of Our Lives."

“Young and the Restless,” he corrected Spencer and Piper shut off the TV.

“Aren’t you meant to be in D.C.?” Spencer sighed exasperatedly.

“You're supposed to be hanging out with your mom,” Piper pointed out as she got up, brushing off any crumbs onto the floor. She gazed pointedly at the box he’d plopped down. “Riley Jenkins?”

“No, it's not-- that's actually not why I'm here.”

“Spencer, I did not watch 2 hours of Young and the Restless for you to lie to me. I think my IQ dropped like 7 points.” Rossi smirked as he got up.

“Let us help. Maybe together we can find out who killed him.”

“I think I might already know.” Rossi and Piper glanced at each other before returning to Spencer.

“So, tell us about the suspect.”

“Truth is, I don't know anything about him. He's my father.” Piper’s jaw dropped and she glanced between the two male agents as though they were playing in the US Open with significantly minimal movement and groaning. Spencer blinked exactly 5 times before he returned to his bounty box.

Piper licked her lips before she broke the silence. “You need to be sure, Spencer.” Spencer faltered.

“She's right, some rocks don't need looking under,” Rossi offered him a way out.

“My mind is sending me signals. I can't ignore them anymore.”

“Mixed signals. Spence, you know better than anyone how ambiguous the subconscious can be. There’s no solid explanation for these dreams.”

“I've come this far; I'm not going back.” Rossi glanced over at Piper who sighed at Spencer’s resolve and picked up a file. They plopped down in different spots, Piper reclining on the mattress belly-down, Rossi in an armchair with his polished shoes resting on the coffee table and Spencer perched on the side table.

“Riley Jenkins,” Rossi started, “6 years old. His father, Lou Jenkins was supposed to pick him up from t-ball practice at 4. He got delayed at work, prompting Riley to walk the 3 blocks home. When his mother got home in the early evening, she found him dead in the basement.”

“So, the offender came to the house after the boy arrived home,” Piper proposed.

“Or picked him up on the way there. Coaxes Riley into the basement where he sexually assaults him,” Rossi offered instead, and she nodded. Spencer simply stared at the young boy in the red baseball uniform, matching the one his father had once forced him to wear.

“The boy's mouth was taped shut. Symbolic. The unsub fears Riley will talk, panics, weighs his options... Decides to make certain that he'll never talk,” Rossi interrupted Spencer’s thoughts.

“He finds a knife in the fishing gear under the stairs, stabs Riley 9 times in the chest, stuffs him behind the washing machine,” Piper outlined.

“So, the unsub's a white male in his late 20s to early 30s. Means we're looking for a man in his 50s. Likely knew the boy. Maybe been to his house. Neighbour…” Spencer trailed off.

“Reid? What is it?” Rossi asked, leaning on his knees as he looked to Spencer.

“My family lived less than a half mile from the Jenkins'.”

“Do you think your dad knew the boy?”

“I don't know. My memory's lack of recall just reinforces how little I knew about him.” Piper’s head drooped and she straightened up on the bed.

“We should talk to your mother first, neighbours. Get their impressions,” Piper added as she scooped her hair up away from her face, a small strand dropping from her fingers to adorn the curve of her jaw. They watched him grab his keys and leave.

“He gonna be okay?” Rossi asked, staring at the closing door as Piper started stacking up the files.

“I dunno. This case is personal. I just hope…” her voice trailed, and her hands needed no instruction, working mechanically and methodically to organise the files. “I just hope he isn’t trying to pin this on his father.”

“What do you mean?” She plopped her remaining stack and turned to Rossi.

“His father left him and his mom, Rossi. When he was 6. He hasn’t seen him in almost 20 years. When you’re that young, it’s easy to make your father a villain.”

Spencer was lost in thought as they drove to the Jenkins’. Rossi drove as Piper reviewed the case file. “Hey, Doc, what did your mom say anyway?” she asked, crunching into her apple.

“He liked being around kids. He coached my little league team—”

“You were in Little League? God, Rossi, can you imagine? Mini-Reid with his mini bat. Please tell me there are pictures.” It struck Spencer how she saw the joy in the smallest things. His father could be a paedophile, but she lit up with glee with the notion of him in a baseball uniform as a child, but as she caught his grim face, she realised now wasn’t the time. “Right. Sorry. Was there anything else?”

“Not really. He wanted more kids. My mom preferred just one.”

“Huh. I get it.” Spencer turned around as Rossi kept ignoring the two infants in his SUV.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I can imagine your mom only wanting you. Why mess with perfection right?” Piper laughed at Spencer’s raised eyebrow. “Spence, your mom loves you so much. I didn’t expect her to want any more kids.”

“Besides,” Rossi finally interrupted. “You were probably a handful enough on your own.” Piper laughed heartily in the back at Spencer’s pout. But as they exited the vehicle to walk over to Mr Jenkins, a sombre mood descended over them like darkness blanketing a starless sky. Rossi noted the father’s disbelief for their questions, frustration evident as he kept loading boxes into his truck.

“It's just a theory, Mr. Jenkins,” Piper tried placatingly.

“You must be out of your damn minds if you think will Reid killed my son.”

“So, you were friends?”

“Who the hell are you to come here, asking this?” Spencer placed a hand on Piper’s shoulder as he stepped forward.

“I'm his son.”

“Spencer? Spencer, a G-man? How about that?”

“Was William around your house often?” Piper held back a snicker as she continued questioning.

“The occasional barbecue, that sort of thing.”

“Riley around on these occasions?” Spencer continued.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I need to know.”

“Take it from someone who does know, he was a good man.”

“Thanks for your time,” Piper finished and started back towards the car, stopping when she noticed Reid was still standing there.

“Where is he, these days? My dad?”

“It's been years, but he's probably still at that same firm in Summerlin.”

“He's been in town this whole time?” Spencer’s voice went soft, the pain of 20 years collapsing over him.

“Far as I know.” He nodded before waving and turning back to Piper and Rossi.

“You know Summerlin?” Rossi asked.

“Yeah. It's like 9 miles east of here. Off the 95.” He started walking, the reality of his past leaning on his back. Rossi looked at Pipe quizzically and she filled him in.

“He was 10 minutes away and never let him know.”

^-^

The three agents walked up to the golden reception desk, Spencer leading but as he tried to speak, his voice died in his throat. As such, Rossi spoke up instead, asking for William Reid. Stammering, the young doctor asked to be excused and rushed off to the mens’ room. “I've never seen him like this before.”

“17 years is a long time to go between visits,” Piper remarked mirthlessly.

“Not long enough. The kid's still angry.”

“Yeah...” She glanced at Rossi, then rushed over after him.

Outside the mens’ room, Piper waited, smiling awkwardly at employees walking past her. She breathed a sigh of relief when a familiar dark, tousled head of hair popped out of the room behind her. “Why are you doing this?” She crossed her arms across her chest, jutting out her chin slightly.

“Doing what?’

“Don’t act dumb. Why are we here? Why are you so intent on making your father the villain here?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” He shifted from foot to foot.

“Tough. You’re gonna have to. I’m done being nice about this. Doctor Spencer Walter Reid, what am I doing here?”

“Do we have to do this now?”

“Spencer, you haven’t seen the guy in 17 years, I get it. That doesn’t make him a paedophile.” Piper tried to keep her voice measured and controlled. “I just don’t want to see you in pain.”

“I can’t help it. I have to know he didn’t do it.”

“No.” She sighed. “You want to know that he did do it. Because the real Spencer Reid, the one with 3 PhDs and an IQ of 187, wouldn’t rely on something as inconsequential as a dream to incriminate someone, especially his father.” She glared him down until Rossi called for them.

^-^

In the picturesque office, the three agents were spread out. Piper almost snorted at the psychological irony of their positions. Rossi reclined on the dark leather couch, gauging his colleague’s father. Professional. Piper stood in the corner next to the bookshelf, feet shoulder length apart. Protector. Spencer stood near the door; arms crossed. Prudent. “You don’t look like me anymore. You used to. Everybody said so.” Spencer practically snorted at his father’s pathetic attempt at small talk.

“They say some people look like their dogs, too. It's attributed to prolonged mutual exposure. Elderly couples, also. They unconsciously mimic the expressions of people they've been around their whole life. So, it kind of-- kind of makes sense that I wouldn't really look like you. I haven't seen you in 20 years.” Piper raised her eyebrows in second-hand embarrassment for William, who was struck dumb.

“So, are you in town on work?”

“We're just wrapping up a case. A 5-year-old boy was abducted and murdered.”

“I read about that. Uh, Ethan Hayes, right? That's terrible.”

“That case got me thinking about Riley Jenkins. You remember Riley Jenkins?”

“Of course.”

“I've been having dreams about him for a really long time. But when we came back here for this case, it jogged something, and the dream changed. I saw his killer and he was you.”

“Interesting dream.” Rossi smirked at the remark.

“You don’t seem all that surprised,” he remarked.

“I stopped being surprised by Spencer's mind a long time ago.”

“There are certain criteria we consider when looking at this type of suspect,” Piper explained. “You fit parts of that profile.”

“Me?”

“We just want your cooperation,” Piper held her palms up, signalling surrender.

“My cooperat-- You're not actually saying you think I killed Riley?”

“We didn't say that.”

“Good, 'cause that's absurd.”

“We'd just like permission to look through your computer, access your records.”

“And what would you be looking for exactly?” The three agents remained silent. “You want access to my files? Get a warrant.” He ushered them out before slamming the door behind him, and Piper ran a hand through her hair as Spencer walked straight past her down to the SUVs, already on call with Garcia. Rossi simply sighed, following the young agent. Piper glanced back at the closed door behind her, weighing her options. Damning the doubts in her mind, she called out to Rossi, saying she’d meet them at the hotel later, before knocking on the door again. It flung open on the third rap and William’s eyes glared back at her.

“May we have a private conversation? Without the other agents?” Grumpily, he nodded, giving her access to the room. He moved over to the desk, motioning for her to sit.

“You have 10 minutes. What do you want?”

“I want to know why you left.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, I don’t know everything about your relationship with Spencer, but I do know that at one point he cared about you. Deeply. Unquestioningly. He loved you. I don’t doubt that he doesn’t still want you around. But he’s like family to me. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know why you left them.” The man sniffed.

“Have you met his mother?”

“Diana? Yes.”

“So, you’ll understand that living with her was difficult?”

“I don’t doubt it was, sir. But if I could ask you this, if you, a grown and accomplished man, couldn’t live with a paranoid schizophrenic, how could you expect a 6-year-old to?” His voice drained.

“I didn't know how to take care of him anymore.” Piper nodded, absorbing this.

“And you’re still firm on your decision about not letting us see your files?” His face hardened.

“Yes.” She nodded again, getting up from her seat. She halted halfway to the door and turned around.

“Do you still care about him?” He just smiled softly.

“Always.”

Spencer pushed the door to his hotel room open, briefly glimpsing the large yellow envelope that fell to the floor. He grabbed at the envelope, reading the small note pinned to it by a small silver paper clip. You’re looking at the wrong guy. Groaning, he clutched the envelope and ran down to the hotel lobby to Piper and Rossi.

“Was the envelope dropped off at the front desk first?” Piper asked, almost reaching her hand out to touch his arm. Almost.

“Nope, it went straight to my room.”

“So, they knew what room you were in. The timing of this is a little suspicious,” Rossi pointed out, perusing the file.

“Yeah. An hour after I see my father, we're handed another suspect.”

“You think you knew this guy?”

“I don't know. I think so, but I'm not sure. I--I--no, I don't know.”

“Exposed himself to a minor. That's a precursor to molestation.”

“And murder. I’ll get Garcia to take a closer look at this guy.” Spencer’s cell buzzed. “Speak of the angel.” Rossi smirked. “What have you got?”

“Reid, we've been all up in your father's business.”

“What did you find?”

“Well, let me tell you first what I did not find. No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

“We went back 10 years. No questionable transactions that we can find apart from a ticket to see Celine Dion 6 months ago. But I think we can overlook that.”

“He's smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?”

“Well, of course. But from what I can tell, Reid, he doesn't fit the profile. I can tell you other things about him, if you want to know. He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat. He appears to spend most of his free time alone, he goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is—”

“Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.”

“He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a kajillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioural science journals, he even has a copy of your dissertation. He's keeping tabs on you. That’s saying something.”

“Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.” He shoved the cell into Piper’s hands and left the lobby. Piper just sighed.

“I thought we were giving him good news.”

“So did I,” Piper murmured.

“What else can we do?”

“Look up a name for us, if you would. Gary Brendan Michaels.”

“You like this guy for the Riley murder?”

“Somebody does. They sent us his file.” Piper and Rossi glanced at each other as she flipped the cell shut. “I’ll go and talk some sense into him.”

Piper shrugged and traced Spencer’s footsteps, stopping at the sight of a young blonde flirting with the tall doctor. She felt a strange pit in her stomach as she watched them talk. Uneasiness. She stood there awkwardly as the two talked in front of her and glanced back at Rossi still in the lobby. As though something possessed her, she launched forward.

“Tell you what, I'll put mine out if you buy me a drink,” the blonde offered as she leaned into Spencer.

“Sorry, he’s on duty,” Piper intervened. “Spencer?” Almost as though he was in a trance, he got up slowly, walking with Piper towards the exit. “I know that look. Pursed lips, knotted eyebrows, must have been some conversation. What’s going on up there?” He just licked his lips as they approached Rossi.

“I think I know how to rekindle my childhood memories.”

^-^

Spencer lay on the bed as Piper gripped his hand. “You know, I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“How long?” Rossi asked from behind them.

“Like 2 and a half years. I mean, I’ve only ever done it a few times.”

“You have certification, Pipes. You’ll be fine. We don’t have time for a professional,” Rossi encouraged her.

“I can’t promise the memories will be accurate. You know the limitations of hypnotherapy, especially the power of suggestion,” she frowned.

“I know. You can do this.” She took a deep breath. For Spencer.

“Okay. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Relax, Spencer. Think of home. How do you feel?”

“Okay. I feel…ready.” Piper glanced back at Rossi worriedly.

“If you feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?” Spencer nodded. “Focus on my voice. You’re at home, tucked into bed in your favourite pyjamas. You should be asleep, but you keep hearing your parents arguing. Do you hear it?”

“He's coming in. My dad.”

“What’s he doing, Spencer?” She felt him squeeze softly.

“He…He says he loves me…I don’t want to be here…”

“It’s okay, Spencer. We’re here. Listen to my voice. Take us to where the light is. To the next morning. The sun is coming up. Where are you, Spencer?”

“Outside. My mom, she's at the window… She's been crying. She saw him.” Piper’s face paled.

“Who? Your father? Do you talk to her?”

“No. No, I wanna-- I wanna see...” She grimaced as Spencer’s grip tightened on her wrist. Her injury flared as she tried to regain control.

“What is it, Spencer?” Rossi rushed over.

“Wake him up. Wake him up now.” He hissed.

“Damn it. I'm going to count backward from 5. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.” Spencer lurched upwards, still gripping her wrist and Rossi latched onto him, murmuring condolences in his ear. Piper slowly unwrapped Spencer’s grip and rubbed her wrist gently.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmured as Piper walked over to the bathroom. She washed her wrist in freezing water from the faucet before splashing her face. She took a deep breath, dried her face and stepped back outside. “You okay?”

“’M fine. You?” He just nodded. “You remember anything?”

“Yeah. My dad.” Spencer rubbed his face, the bags under his eyes more prominent. “He was burning clothes with…” He took a deep breath as Piper moved closer to the two agents. “They had blood on them.” He rubbed his eyes a little and got up, about to start pacing until he announced, “I need to see my mom.” As he left the hotel room, Rossi motioned for Piper to go after him. Grabbing her blazer from the couch, she rushed after him, following him into the SUV.

Piper sat quietly on the couch as Spencer questioned Mrs Reid softly. “Try to remember, Mom,” he kept repeating softly as his mother protested. Piper noticed how Spencer kept pacing, how Diana pulled her cardigan around her torso, how Spencer voice started to gain gravity as he urged his mother to remember. “This wasn’t a dream. It was a memory, and I saw you. You saw Dad burn the bloody clothes.” Piper stood up but he wouldn’t let her get a word in edgewise. She stepped back as Diana grasped Spencer’s head gently.

“Ugh, your mind. Such a treasure. Even as a baby, you knew things you weren’t supposed to know.”

“This isn’t about me, Mom. This is about Riley Jenkins.”

“It was always about you,” she murmured softly, letting go. Piper intervened.

“Mrs Reid, please.” She guided his mother to the bed, rubbing circles on her hand. “Riley Jenkins. Please remember.”

“Riley…” she murmured, “Riley was real. Poor Riley.”

“What happened to Riley, Diana?”

“I-no, I don’t know. I don’t know,” she repeated softly.

“It’s okay, Diana. Be gentle. What happened to Riley?” Piper kept rubbing as Spencer paced behind her.

“Riley’s dead. Poor Riley,” she murmured, and Piper looked back at Spencer helplessly. Getting up, she pulled him aside.

“I think we should get a nurse in here and show her a picture of what happened to Riley.”

“Piper—"

“I’m aware of the risks, Spencer, but we need to kickstart her memories. She said it was always about you, Spence. What do you think that means?” Spencer’s face morphed from hostility to childlike wonder. He looked back at his trembling mother. “Do you think she can handle it?” Spencer nodded and turned to getting a file out as Piper called in a nurse and explained their plan. She watched intensely as Spencer showed Diana the picture of the little battered boy and she cried out.

“No. No. No.” With every repetition, her voice soared in pitch and she got up. “No. I’m not—I’m not supposed to tell you. No. NO!” she yelled, slapping herself when the nurse launched forward as released the sedative in her veins. Piper rubbed her shoulder, silently cursing herself, staring at the disquieting scene unfolding in front of her.

“This was a bad idea,” she murmured to Spencer as she leant back against the wall, but he’d already moved to her side, listening carefully.

“It could have been you,” Diana murmured, her hair dishevelled, breathing becoming steadier. Piper left the mother and son inside and tapped her foot as she replayed what had happened inside. Jesus, Piper, you have to be that stupid? You really showed a paranoid schizophrenic a photo of a dead kid? Good going. As she bounced the back of her head on the brick wall of the sanitarium, a tousled head popped up next to her.

“Spence, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” He walked past her, but she tugged on his sleeve.

“You’re right to be mad. I shouldn’t have—”

“No. You shouldn’t have,” he spat. Piper recoiled at the bitter venom.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No, she was just magically supposed to remember everything.” Her words died in her throat and she blinked through the tears welling up in her eyes. Nodding, she meekly followed Spencer to the SUV. The car ride was silent, and she couldn’t find her voice until they got out of the SUV to head into the precinct.

“So, how is she?”

“Better.” They walked a few paces before he continued. “She said it could have been me.”

“Spencer, no. You don’t think—”

“It makes sense. I don't need to tell you this is textbook. Father reroutes compulsion to molest away from his own son to a surrogate.”

“He wouldn’t do that. We met him, Spencer. I talked to him.”

“Yeah, we all did. But you don’t know him.” Taking a deep breath, hoping she wasn’t digging a deeper hole, she pulled him back from the steps of the precinct.

“I know what a bad father’s like.” She stared into the fire blazing behind his dark brown eyes. “Mine didn’t leave. I had to live with one. Trust me, he thought he was doing what was best for you.” He pulled his arm away and scoffed.

“Yeah, well. We saw what happened the last time I trusted you.” He turned to go up the steps, only to see Mr Jenkins going down the steps with a file in his hands. “What’s he doing here?” Spencer glanced back at Piper who narrowed her eyes at the other man before running up the steps to find Rossi.

^-^

As Piper scrubbed her face in the bathroom, staring at her reflection, Rossi and Reid talked to the former lead detective. “Look... Why don't you just head back over to the fountain view and have a couple of drinks by the pool and think about this.”

“I have thought about this,” Spencer remarked bitterly.

“The guy's your father.”

“What's your point, detective?” He narrowed his eyes at the balding man.

“Maybe you're here to work out some other issues?”

“Look, Detective. We’d really appreciate if you helped us out with this. We just want the guy on the defensive,” Rossi reasoned, stepping in before things got ugly with the kid. The detective relented, giving them 24 hours and Spencer stormed out, slamming the door on its hinges. He sidestepped Piper, ignoring her sunken face, out into the fresh air. She shot Rossi a curious look.

“Don’t ask. News?”

“Yeah. Gary Michaels is starting to look more and more like our guy. Well, that’s if Garcia could find him.”

“What’s that mean?”

“She can’t find him.”

“Piper, Garcia can hack into the FBI, you’re telling me she can’t find our suspect?”[RN1]

“There’s no record of him after the murder. Probably didn't want to stick around for the investigation. Apart from the indecent exposure, he also had some lewd behaviour, trespassing at a nursery school… The guy’s sick but smart enough to change his name.”

“Any way to find him?”

“They have his DNA from the exposure charge, Garcia’s running it through VICAP and CODIS. Also, JJ may be in labour, they’re taking her to the hospital now.

“Okay, good. Wait, now? But she isn’t due—”

“Guess the baby doesn’t wanna wait 3 weeks. So, he still wants to bring in his dad for questioning?”

“He needs to know. But, uh… he’s been saying that a lot lately.” Piper sighed.

“Rossi, I think—no, I know I made a mistake.” He guided her to a seat, and she tapped her foot on the linoleum floor. “I thought that showing Diana a picture of Riley would, I guess, kickstart her memory. But it just triggered her. She was convulsing, Rossi. Slapping herself.”

“Hey, I get it. You made a call. There are no 100% right decisions in this job.”

“I risked her life. I made that call. I put her in—” Piper’s voice broke and she stared at the ceiling, trying to force her tears down. “I put her at risk,” she sniffled. “He won’t forgive me for that.”

“That will come naturally, Piper. The real question should be, do you forgive yourself?” Piper shook her head, then left her seat, claiming she needed some air. Rossi rubbed his face, letting out a big sigh. “I don’t get paid enough for this,” he murmured.

^-^

Piper entered the interrogation room where Rossi stood, watching the Reids in the adjacent room. “He’s not gonna stop, is he?”

“He needs to know. How’s JJ?”

“Fine, Hotch called me a few minutes ago. Said they were checking her in now. They also got a ping back from CODIS. Let’s get him out of there.” When Spencer re-entered the room, Piper explained what Hotch had dug up.

“He’s dead?”

“They found parts of Gary Michaels in the desert in California when some new construction broke ground. Whoever killed him was smart enough to bury him across state lines. Vegas P.D. never made the connection. That’s not even the worst of it. Judging from the fractures, they think he was beaten with something. A pipe, maybe. Or a bat. Sound familiar?”

“Maybe it wasn't Riley's blood on those clothes my dad was burning…” Spencer trailed off and Rossi groaned.

“I know that look and I am not driving,” he grimaced, tossing the keys to Spencer.

^-^

Piper took up her usual spot in the back with a book as Rossi flicked between stations. “Jesus, Rossi. Just pick a station and leave it alone.” He tried to glare at the young woman, but she simply flicked a paper ball at his face, laughing as it bounced back at her.

“You remind me of my ex-wife.”

“Really? Which one?”

“My last one.”

“Oh, your twelfth wife?” she snickered, and Rossi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How many times do I have to—I only got married three times!” Even Spencer managed a small smile at that.

“We know,” Spencer explained. “You’re just funny when you’re angry.” Piper smiled goofily at them, glad that Spencer was back to normal, even if it was only an ephemeral moment.

^-^

The three sat in perfect fashion; Reid on the spinny chair, looking over case files, Rossi reclining on the couch and Piper staring out the window. “You think we should be looking into this anyway?” Rossi and Reid glanced up at her. “The man attacked and abused a 6-year-old. Sounds like he got what he deserved.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“She’s right, kid. We don’t have to run this print,” Rossi tossed the file in his hand on the table.

“’Course we do. Whatever Michaels did, he deserved a fair trial.” Piper snorted derisively.

“You got what you wanted Spencer.” Piper moved over to the couch, closer to the two other agents. “You wanted to know if your father killed Riley. He didn’t. You got what you needed.”

“What I need is the truth.” Spencer slammed his hand on the table and Rossi looked between the two like a deer caught in headlights.

“No, what you need is to let this go. Whoever killed Michaels, I don’t blame them. Can you?”

“That’s not justice.”

“Screw justice, Reid. You don’t care about justice,” she spat, looking at him levelly. “You're just determined to nail him, aren't you? Doesn't even matter what for.”

“If you don't want to run it, I will,” he said coolly. Piper straightened, looking at Rossi who remained silent. Biting her cheek, Piper weighed her options. But taking one look at Spencer’s face, there was no other option.

“Fine.” She grabbed her blazer and purse before walking out to clear her head and grab some coffee.

^-^

Spencer, Piper and Rossi waited in the hotel lobby for a call from Agent Todd who was now filling in for JJ. Piper sat on the black leather couch, tapping out a rhythm on her cup of coffee. Rossi’s cell buzzed and Spencer stopped pacing immediately. “You're 100 percent certain? Okay... Thank you.” Rossi looked back at the two agents, unsure of whether the news was good or bad. "They found a match. It wasn't your dad's." He hesitated. "It's Mr Jenkins." Piper simply sighed and left for the SUV outside. They drove out to the construction site and she watched as Rossi handcuffed Mr Jenkins and took him back to the station. Methodically and efficiently, they tied up the loose ends of the case as Spencer talked out the events of the case with his parents and Rossi extracted the confession from Mr Jenkins while Piper packed up, carefully tagging evidence and piling case files. The flight home was equally silent as they switched off for a long needed rest, only waking for the landing and their arrival at the city hospital. Piper trudged over sleepily over to Garcia, giving her a brief hug and gasping very softly at the beautiful boy wrapped up in a blue blanket.

"Will, he looks just like you," she cooed.

"That's what I said," Penelope whispered back as Will chuckled.

"Let's hope he grows out of that."

"As long as he doesn't inherit the accent," Emily joked, wincing as Piper elbowed her, chuckling. Spencer entered behind Hotch, giving his congratulations to Will. JJ gave Will a look, which clearly meant something to him as he asked everyone for a cup of coffee. As they left, Spencer stepped forward to JJ, unable to stop the smile spreading on his face.

"How is it that I just went through 15 hours of labour and you look worse than I do?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You look beautiful." She chuckled, adjusting her hold on her little boy.

"Spence, there's something I wanted to ask you."

"What is it?"

"Will and I were talking, and, um... We want you to be Henry's godfather."

"I don't even know-- I don't know--" he stammered.

"Here, do you want to hold him?"

"Hello, Henry," he cooed despite himself.

"If anything should happen us, it's up to you and Garcia to make sure this boy gets into Yale."

"Yale. Do you want to go to Yale, Henry? That was your godfather's safety school," he murmured to the softly sleeping child. "Don't worry, I can get you into Cal-Tech with one phone call." Piper chuckled as Garcia entered holding two cups of coffee for them, taking Henry into her arms. As the two blondes talked about Henry's future, Spencer went to find his closest friend who was near the coffee machine laughing with Will.

"But she was trying so hard to tie her shoelaces, and she was only about 5 years old. It took me half an hour to coax her out from under the table," Piper told him and he chuckled as Spencer approached the two. Will thanked Spencer for accepting his position as godfather, his confidence in the doctor beaming through his albeit tired smile. Will excused himself from the conversation to check on his girlfriend and child. "So godfather huh?" Piper murmured as she sipped on her terrible coffee and Spencer grinned.

"You look ready to sleep."

"I wouldn’t be if you hadn't hogged the couch," she scoffed, and Spencer held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Listen, about before. I'm uh… I'm sorry for being umm…"

"Passive aggressive?" she supplied. "Don't be. I was mad at myself for doing that stupid thing. I can't blame you," she said, handing him a cup of coffee. "I'm just happy you found your family. They smiled at each other like two blissful idiots until Garcia pulled them in for a group picture in JJ's room.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x oc #bau #bau x oc #spencer reid #dr reid #dr spencer reid #dr piper bishop #spencer reid x oc #doctor spencer reid

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thephantomofthe-internet · 5 years

Text

Lavender and Daisies

Steve Harrington x Holland!Reader, Max Mayfield x Reader (PLATONIC)

Word Count: 4,183

Warnings: Death, grief, violence, mourning, funerals, angst, crying, swearing

Tag List: @carolimedanvers @thechickvic @moonstruckhargrove @hotstuffhargrove @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @agentsinstorybrooke @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @mickmoon @buckybarneshairpullingkink @marvelismylifffe @spidey-pal

You found yourself drawn to the Hawkins Cemetery after the announcement of the Starcourt Mall’s demise. You’d spent a lot of time there two years prior. Two years ago you knew why you spent so much time around those gravestones. This time, you weren’t sure.

You always made sure to dress appropriately for the stones. Your mother had drilled it into your head, after your Great Aunt Amelia’s funeral almost twelve years ago, that the souls of the dead were offended by any colours other than black, grey, and navy blue. Dark winter tones were the only colours appropriate for the stones. You couldn’t help your bright yellow converse sneakers though; they were your only shoes with flat soles and anything with a heel would sink into the grass, loose dirt, and mud.

You knew how to dress for a funeral. You were a Holland girl.

You lost your baby sister Barb in your junior year. It destroyed you. She was this little dork you’d been trying to protect since the day she was born. You were Irish twins, less than a year apart. Your sister was a miracle baby; your parents were told by several doctors that they wouldn’t be able to have children after you, due to a seemingly botched c-section. When they found out that they were pregnant again so soon after having you, they had to go through with the pregnancy, purely because they might never have another shot at a kid.

Barb was your sweet little geeky sister, with her prissy friends and her homework parties. You still felt guilty about not telling her to skip the party she was going to. Not that Steve Harrington inherently threw dangerous parties, simply that you knew that it wouldn’t be her scene. Not that you thought she’d listen, Barb was a teenager. Teenagers never listen, especially when they had it in their heads that they were right. So you mourned her death hard. You spent every day at her grave site for the first year. Your parents had intended to use their life savings to pay for a private investigator to research her disappearance. And while, at the time you weren’t sure as to whether or not she was even alive, you weren’t comfortable with them selling everything to hire some random guy they found in the penny saver. You moved in with your Aunt Jeanine while your parents lost their minds for awhile, so you could try to keep your mind on your studies. And while living with your aunt and her four kids, all no older than preteens, off a pull out couch in their basement wasn’t easy, you made it work.

You graduated. But you didn’t get into any colleges. And once Barb was discovered dead, covered up by an evil corporation, you were forced to deal with your own issues head on.

Staying in Hawkins and going back to high school was the only way to clean up the mess you’d made of your own life. It meant you could stay close to Barb, which your parents had trouble doing. They were destroyed with grief, you understood why they felt the need to sew their wild oats and try to discover themselves beyond their pain.

The Hawkins Cemetery was like a second home to you now. You found yourself wandering around even when you felt well enough to not have to visit Barb every day. You found yourself wondering about the people who’d been buried there for years. You did your best to mourn them properly, dressed in your darks and keeping quiet. You tried to avoid funerals whenever you could.

Today, you ran into one.

Neil Hargrove didn’t get around to planning his son’s funeral until almost August. He’d demanded that his wife do it for him, but Susan was having none of it. It wasn’t as if she hated Billy, but she hardly knew him, he’d only been her stepson for two years and he hadn’t exactly let her into his world. Neil was forced to do it himself. So he paid for the cheapest funeral possible. And he refused to call his ex-wife, Emily; Susan had to call her herself, the one thing she did to help plan the thing.

The day of Billy’s funeral was hellish hot, he probably would’ve loved it. The sun beat down on the scattered, small group like migraine, sending sweat pooling down each and every mourner’s back and making their heads pound painfully. You found yourself wandering cautiously into the mix, fitting in just enough and just intrigued by the scene enough to stay. You and Billy weren’t friends, you wouldn’t even say that you liked the guy, but you felt bad for his family over what had happened.

Neil Hargrove wiped his forehead and moustache with his white handkerchief, shoving it violently into his pocket. His eyes were dry as the pastor spoke over the coffin, a small wreath of roses on its lid. Susan stood at his side, trying to whimper quietly, her green eyes misty and her thin red lip quivering slightly. Her hand was squeezed tight in her daughter Max’s, whose free hand was wrapped around the end of a tight red braid. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her whole face red and splotchy. You’d guess that she’d been crying for over an hour and by the heavy purple bags under her eyes, she hadn’t much sleep the night before.

You knew that look. You’d been in her shoes. You felt like you were kindred sisters.

You recognized the rest of her little group, all in various stages of grieving. Mike Wheeler looked bored, his fists shoved into the pockets of his black dress pants. Lucas Sinclair had his arm wrapped around Max’s shoulders, watching her cautiously. Dustin Henderson and Will Byers seemed deeply uncomfortable, although Will seemed a bit more saddened than his friend. There was a girl with them who you didn’t recognize who was holding Will’s hand and leaning on his shoulder, tears brimming in her eyes.

Then there was Steve Harrington.

He made about as much sense being there as you did.

You understood why those kids were there, they had to be friends of Max, but Steve was an outlier. He wasn’t friends with Billy, hell they were enemies the second he sauntered into the parking lot of Hawkins High. You heard the stories about Billy beating the crap out of Steve and saw the evidence yourself. Why on earth would that boy show up here, in a suit, to stand in the burning heat with people who either don’t know him or don’t like him? You didn’t understand.

But his big brown eyes caught yours and you found yourself offering a shy, small smile, which he returned. The pastor signal for the group to join in the hymn listed in the funeral program and you found yourself slinking further into the back as the small, cracked voices of the mourners rang out in prayer, following along with the pastor. You hummed to the rhythm of their words, keeping your head down. Funerals always eventually became about god, even the concept of resting easy eluded to some sort of afterlife and almighty creator above. You didn’t exactly adore the concept of god, but it wasn’t something that you outright decried. You understood why religion was a fixture in society and you didn’t want anyone to feel lost or aimless. You understood that feeling tenfold.

When the hymn ended, you looked back to the children, who now huddled around little Max. The bored looking one, Mike, was whispering in her ear and her broken expression shifted slightly from sadness to anger as her brown eyes met yours.

The pastor finished his sermon and the pallbearers lowered the coffin into the ground. Some members of the group chose to throw handfuls of dirt onto the coffin. Susan tried to bring Max over to do so, but she refused. A bright blonde woman, whom you could only assume to be Billy’s mother, cried softly as she threw two handfuls onto the coffin, standing over it with this broken expression you could only match to your mothers just two years prior.

You didn’t add any yourself. Neither did Steve. The pastor announced that there would be refreshments at the nearby funeral home and most of the masses headed off behind the pastor. Susan again tried to egg Max on towards the funeral home, but she held back with her friends. You took one last look at the gravestone, noting the inscription “William Calvin Hargrove: Son, Brother, Friend; Mortui Vivos Docent”

Mortui Vivos Docent-The dead teach the living. The quote was on enough headstones to draw your attention and force you to learn its meaning. You wondered sarcastically what they expected to learn from his death. Just like that, he was another soon to be forgotten member of the Hawkins dead. Just four rows from Barb.

You turned on your heel, letting out a soft sigh through your nose, planning to return to your aunt’s house. You had promised to help her embroider cushions for your Cousin Sarah’s upcoming baby shower.

“Hey!” a loud, angry voice called after you and you turned back to meet the eye of Max Mayfield, whose freckled arms were crossed tightly over the front of her black button down blouse, the cardigan she’d had on for the ceremony already tied around her waist and her gaze stern.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, huh? This is a private burial.” She snapped angrily.

You simply shrugged “I’m sorry. I just wanted to pay my respects. I’ll go now.” You replied, trying again to head again, but the sound of angry footsteps following behind you.

“Who do you think you are? Barging in while my family grieves! This is a private occasion.” Max called after you.

“Max, stop it...” Lucas said softly and the footsteps stopped for a second. You turned to look at the group again. Lucas had grabbed her arm, tugging her away from you. The rest were huddled together, watching in slight horror. Max was seething. You guessed that they’d never seen her that angry before, or at least not in a very long time.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that it was a private affair. I wouldn’t have intruded if I had known. I’m truly sorry for disturbing you.” You said slowly, keeping your gaze on hers as she tried to rip her arm out of Lucas’s grasp.

“What kind of funerals are public?!?” Max turned her attention to Lucas, her voice pooling with exasperation and disbelief.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you turned away heading towards the oldest plot of the cemetery, hoping to sit on the bench surrounded by lavender and daisies. “You’d be surprised...” you muttered, pulling the creamsicle coloured scrunchie off your wrist and pulling your hair up.

Something hard hit you in the back of the head. Several screams rang out as you stumbled forward from the sheer shock of the hit. It wasn’t a very hard hit, although it did sting.

“Max, what the fuck?” you heard a voice call as you turned to grab whatever had hit you. A black ballet flat. And then, suddenly, the other shoe and a foot clad in black tights were in your eye line. You stood up fast as a red fury came at you, tiny fists hitting your arms and shoulders and stomach. She was almost as tall as you and yet she was fighting like a small child. You let her land every blow as her friends and Steve came running after her, all screaming for her to stop.

“He was my brother...” you heard her mutter angrily over and over again, tears streaming fast down her cheeks, her face growing exponentially redder.

You wound your arms under her arms, pulling her to your chest tightly. “I know.” You said firmly as she fought against you “I know. I understand.” It took a couple moments, but eventually she stopped fighting, her head coming to your chest as a loud sob wracked through her tiny body, making her shake and lose her balance, pulling you down with her onto the grass. Your hand came down first, to soften the blow and once you hit the ground, it wrapped around her, rubbing her back softly. Your other hand came to her hair, petting it gently as her tears soaked into your shoulder.

You turned to the boys “Can one of you go and get her a cup of water? And maybe something to eat?” you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb her crying. Lucas nodded turning and jogging towards the funeral home. Mike grabbed the other girl’s hand and led her towards the funeral home. Dustin attempted to get Will to follow, but he simply sat on the grass next to Max’s feet, pulling his knees to his chest. Steve followed suit, sitting next to you.

“I know how you feel, its okay...” you muttered into her hair “Let it out, Max...” Max nodded softly into your shoulder. It took her a few tries, but eventually she sat up on her own and you let her go, letting your hands fall in between the two of you.

She sniffled loudly, wiping her nose again, her eyes still brimmed with tears and red. “How...how you know h-how I even f-feel?” she hiccupped between her syllables. She was starting to hyperventilate, but you saw as she tried to regulate her own breathing.

You lowered your gaze, focusing on the grass. Talking about was still hard. You focused on twisting your fingers into the grass, crossing your legs under you. “I lost my sister, Barb, just a couple years ago.” You said simply. Realization washed over the two, but you knew Steve recognized you.

None of the little party went to the funeral, but you’d seen them at the reception with Joyce Byers when you finally made it back to your parent’s home. You guessed that they didn’t know that you were her sister until that moment.

“I know how you feel about all of this: the pain of losing him, the regret, the anger at the world and at me. I felt the same thing with my sister.” You added, finally able to look up again.

Max crossed her arms over her chest, looking away towards the road less than ten feet away. “Y-you don’t k-know how I f-feel about y-you.” She replied bitterly

“Oh I do,” you chuckled to yourself “When I saw Steve at my sister’s funeral, I wanted to kill him.”

Max raised an eyebrow, which you took as your cue to keep going. “Steve wasn’t even friends with Barb, he didn’t even know her. And it was his stupid party that she went missing, how she got hurt by all that laboratory shit. When I saw him with all those people that loved her, I wanted to destroy him. As soon as the funeral was over, I went right over to him and started screaming at him. He let me try to beat the shit out of him.”

Steve chuckled softly at the memory. In truth, he only went to the funeral because he felt guilty. Guilty that it was at his house, guilty that he’d left her outside, guilty that he didn’t do anything to help her, that he didn’t even notice she’d disappeared until the police started asking him questions. He went to apologize to her, he couldn’t apologize to your parents, they wouldn’t let him. Instead, he apologized to you. He let you yell at him and hit him and cry into his shoulder and wear his jacket when you started to shiver from the cold.

And after that day, he started to check up on you. Little things at first, he knew that you wandered around here so he’d check to make sure that your car came and went. Sometimes he’d drive past your aunt’s house, because it was on his way home anyway, to make sure the car was in the driveway. When he saw you in school, he’d sometimes go over to you to make small talk. He’d eat lunch with you once Tommy and Carol ditched him to hang out with...well with Billy. It was hard to be bitter about that now. You were genuinely one of his only friends.

“I really am sorry for disturbing your mourning, Max. I really didn’t mean to.” Your words pulled Steve out of his memories and his gaze to you. It was a stark contrast to the last time he’d seen you here. Your skin was warm and rosy, your eyes clear and bright, your smile was...heart stopping. You looked so alive, it was beautiful to behold. When he first saw you, you looked so pale and fragile, small in your heavy black dress. But now you sat tall and you smiled like it didn’t hurt anymore. You were fully here, live in Technicolor, and so very alive. Steve couldn’t stop staring at you.

Max nodded softly “Its okay...” she said, looking to Will, who squeezed her shoulder. “C-can I ask you something?”

You smiled “Sure.”

“Does it get any easier?” Max looked so vulnerable, her eyes going wide, she looked almost as she was begging for an answer.

You took her hand gently, your eyes closing as you let out a small sigh through your nose. “It will in time.” You promised “But it won’t ever be okay.”

Max’s gaze dropped away and you squeezed her hand gently “I don’t mean that you won’t be okay, you will be just fine. I mean that what happened to Billy isn’t okay and it won’t be. But you will get some peace one day. It will just take some time, you have to heal.”

Lucas came running up, water from the paper he sported in hand sloshing with his steps. Dustin was behind, carrying a very full napkin. He stopped in front of Max, handing her the drink nervously. You let go of her hand and nodded for her to take the cup.

“We didn’t know what kind you’d like, so we just grabbed one of each.” He plopped down next to her on the grass, opening the napkin to reveal at least five cookies, all different flavours.

You stood up, brushing grass off your jeans “You gonna be alright, Max?” you asked. Max clutched the cup with both hands, taking small sips. She nodded. You smiled “Alright, then eat till you’re sick. Funeral cookies are the best cookies. And if you need anything, ever, you give me a call, okay? Anytime.”

As the kids picked at the cookies, you headed away from the scene. You felt good that you were able to help that little girl in any way you could. But sitting in the muggy feeling of sadness was exhausting and you really needed to breathe in air that wasn’t salty with tears.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Steve called after you and you slowed down, letting him catch up with you. He was wearing the same suit that he did to Barb’s funeral, you reckoned. He looked handsome in it. His hair was deflating and falling into his face, the summer heat making his sweat wash the hairspray out of his locks.

“What you did for Max, that was really cool.” He said, slightly out of breath. You both silently blamed the heat.

You shrugged “It’s the kind of stuff I’d wanted to hear when I was in her situation.” You arrived at your bench, the smell of lavender taking over your senses. You sat down on the bench, smiling at the peeling white paint and the daisies pooling around the tall grass, untouched and forgotten in the corner of the cemetery.

Steve sat down next to you tentatively “So, how are you feeling?” he asked, loosening his tie and taking off his jacket. You knew what he meant; funerals weren’t exactly your comfort zone. You’d confessed to him your deep fear of funerals now, of freaking out and embarrassing yourself. Of having a panic attack and making it about you.

“I’m okay,” you breathed out as his arm came around the back of the bench. You let out a heavy “I really shouldn’t have wandered over there, it wasn’t my place, but I couldn’t help it. I just felt...drawn to it. It was weird.”

“But you did okay. You didn’t freak out, right?” Steve offered with a smile. You nodded, looking down.

“I mean, what you did for Max...it was amazing. She’s been unmovable for weeks. If she’s not crying, she angry. No one’s been able to help. But you calmed her down. It was incredible!” Steve said, his gaze focusing on a faded gravestone for someone named Josephine Bray. “I wish I had been able to do that for you...” he added softly.

You turned to look at him, bewildered “What are you talking about? That’s exactly what you did for me!” you cried. Steve scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re joking right? You told me all about your grandfather’s funeral and how much it hurt.”

“That was stupid shit...” Steve replied, leaning back to stare up at the bright blue sky. It was too beautiful a day for a funeral.

“No it wasn’t!” you slapped him in her chest, startling him into looking at you “Steve, you really helped me. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone, that I’d feel better eventually. You really helped me that day. I never thanked you for that.”

“You don’t need to thank me that all. I mean it was my fault that your sister...” Steve trailed off, not wanted to finish the sentence.

“No it’s not.” You said. Steve shook his head and you repeated yourself firmly “Steve, no it’s not. It’s not your fault. It’s that terrible labs fucking fault. You didn’t know that she would get hurt. You didn’t do shit.”

“I could’ve made her stay inside.” Steve replied bitterly.

“And have her listen to you and Wheeler bone? You know she wouldn’t have gone for that!” you shot. That made Steve laugh against his better judgement. The image of poor Barb sitting in his living room, listening to the sound of his mattress squeak above her was so sad and cringe worthy.

“Okay, that’s fair.” He sighed “But I still could’ve done something...”

“Yeah, you probably could’ve. But the labs could’ve been safer in their disposal of waste or just not done those experiments. And Barb could’ve not gone to your house that night. There are a million variables that could be changed, but we aren’t in charge of any of them.”

You grabbed Steve’s free hand in yours. He looked down at you, a little surprised. “You can’t hold onto your guilt anymore. It’s not your fault. No one blames you.” You smiled up, his big brown eyes finally meeting yours. He swallowed, but nodded, squeezing your hand softly. It felt nice to have your hand in his, it was comforting.

“How’d you find this place?” he asked, pulling away from your gaze to look over the withering stones, growing over with grass and weeds.

“I got lost in here once, found old Jo and this little bench. Sometimes I come in here to read or think when it’s too loud at my aunt’s. It’s like it’s in its own world.” You explained softly.

“You still spend a lot of time here?” Steve asked, a little concerned with the idea of you still wandering around this place.

You sighed “I probably shouldn’t be. It’s just a bad habit now.” You replied, your face heating up just a bit. You knew that Steve had been looking out for you and he knew about your haunting of the funeral. You knew you shouldn’t be hanging around here anymore. It had become a force of habit, but you had to move on.

“You know, anytime your house gets too hectic, you can just come to mine. It’s usually pretty quiet. And I won’t like bug you or anything.” Steve offered shyly. “I mean, if you want to! I know that with your sister it might not be cool but I thought-”

Your hand came to his cheek, silencing him instantly. “Thank you, Steve.” You whispered, kissing him softly. Steve’s heart stopped in his chest, the world coming to a standstill. Your lips barely ghosted over his and you pulled back just as fast. You were far too scared to do anything more, to force yourself on him.

Steve didn’t pull you back, he didn’t want to scare you off. Instead, he let his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You let your head rest on his shoulder, smiling softly. You didn’t know if you’d ever be in this position again, so you savoured it wholeheartedly. It was too beautiful a day to not enjoy it at least a little, with a pretty boy holding your hand.

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wendy-comet · 6 years

Note

"things you said when you thought i was asleep" Samben!!!!

here i am with samben for the soul! this one i am also counting for “things you said after you kissed me,” one of the other prompts that you sent. :D thank you for sending it in!!!!

it isn’t over; it’s just begun

Ben sat on the floor next to his couch, watching an infomercial play silently on the TV and listening to Sammy sleep behind him.

It had been one of those long days. One that had stretched into an even longer night.

The two of them were making their way forward as much as they could, but it was beginning to feel like two steps forward, one step back. Sure, he finally got his best friend out of the house to talk to other people, but then Mayor Grisham ran campaign ads on King Falls public access TV all day long. Maybe Sammy was finally willing to say something about Jack, but then he worked himself up into a guilty panic attack over it all.

So. Things just kept coming.

At least Sammy seemed to be sleeping soundly now. Lord knew he needed it.

“I hope we’re gonna be okay,” Ben whispered. He glanced behind him, ensuring that Sammy’s eyes were still securely closed and his breathing stayed even. Once he was certain, he settled back leaning against the couch and stared at the TV screen blankly.

“I try my best to be optimistic for you, for Emily, for us. I want everything to turn out fine so badly, it kind of hurts.” Ben sighed heavily. He let his head loll back against the couch cushions. “I just… There’s just so much happening, buddy. I don’t know if we’re all gonna make it through.”

He grimaced to himself after that last bit. “Ugh. Can’t believe I’m turning into a cynic. Gross.”

“S’okay.”

Ben stiffened at the voice from behind him and turned to see Sammy, whose eyes were barely open wide enough to see Ben. Sammy cleared his throat and shifted forward, butting his head against Ben’s. “You don’t have to be so optimistic all the time,” he murmured, voice still rough and heavy with sleep. He stopped for a second and wrinkled his nose. “Do you have the bad morning breath or is it me?”

“Probably both of us,” Ben admitted. “A dinner of Skittles and popcorn will do that.”

Sammy nodded. “Sounds about right.” He turned away from Ben to yawn, settling back into the couch and blinking slowly.

“You should go back to sleep,” Ben encouraged. The light from the TV screen flickered across their faces, shadows thrown in all directions. Ben lifted his hand to touch Sammy’s hair but thought better of it halfway through the motion and dropped his arm back to his side.

Probably would send mixed signals if he started doing things like that without having the polyamory talk first.

Which. Ben would get around to that talk soon, definitely.

Sammy glanced over at him and raised his eyebrows. “You alright, buddy?”

Well. No time like the present. Ben took a deep breath, twisting his hands together in his lap. Now or never, and all that.

“So, Sammy… You know how like, I’ve been dating Emily?”

Sammy laughed a little. He rolled back over on the couch to face Ben. “Been a little hard to miss.”

Ben flushed, dark enough that it was visible even in the room’s dim light. “Yeah. About that. I kind of… need to tell you something?”

“Are you okay?” Sammy propped himself up on one elbow. “Are you and Emily okay?” He winced and paled. “I haven’t… Me staying with you isn’t messing you guys up, right?” Sammy chewed on his lip and looked off to one side, away from Ben’s face.

Ben shook his head violently. He got up on his knees, turning to face Sammy full on. “No, no, like, the opposite of that! I promise, you’re fine.” At some point when he was talking, he’d taken one of Sammy’s hands in his, and put his other hand on Sammy’s shoulder.

Sammy was looking back at him now.

It might have been Ben’s imagination that Sammy’s eyes flickered down to his lips before Sammy met his gaze. “So, um,” Ben began. His voice cracked a little and he laughed at himself, in spite of the serious moment. “I’m sorry if this is a super weird or inappropriate question, but Emily and I were talking and… Have you ever read anything about polyamorous relationships?”

There was silence in Ben and Sammy’s living room.

Behind the two of them, the channel dissolved into black and white static. The room was cast into sharp relief, bringing out stark angles in Sammy’s face and intensifying the dark circles that hung under his eyes.

“It’s probably a really bad time for this actually,” Ben continued, no longer able to bear the silence. “You know, given the shadows and the Jack thing and oh man I shouldn’t have brought that up, huh? What if we just forget–Sammy, are you crying? Oh, Jack in the Box Jesus, I am so sorry.”

Ben tried to pull away, but Sammy held their clasped hands tight. “No, wait!” he got out, and it was then that Ben realized Sammy was smiling through his tears. “Ben,” he said. “You’re ridiculous. You’re also a genius, and… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Sammy was smiling so big at him then, soft even in the harsh TV light.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either,” Ben responded. “And. Sometimes I would also like to kiss you. If that’s okay?”

Sammy snorted and shook his head. He scrubbed at his face with one hand, attempting in vain to get his hair out of his eyesight without any way to put it up. “You have no idea how okay that is.” He sighed and sat upright. “As soon as I get my hair out of the way.”

“Here, let me help.” Ben got up on the couch next to Sammy and pulled a hair tie off of his wrist. “I used to help with hair for the theater sometimes, and I can still do some pretty sweet braids if I put my mind to it.”

The two of them shifted on the couch so Ben sat behind Sammy. He didn’t do any of those sweet braids this time around, choosing instead to carefully gather Sammy’s hair into a neat ponytail.

Maybe he took a few extra seconds to comb his fingers through the soft waves of it, tugging out a couple tangles as gently as he could.

Sammy probably wouldn’t mind.

Once he was done, Ben couldn’t resist leaning forward to kiss the side of Sammy’s neck where it was bared by the over-stretched collar of his pajama shirt.

Sammy tipped his head to one side, seemingly almost on instinct.

“We should probably talk about this,” Ben whispered. His eyes were locked on the arch of Sammy’s neck, the curve where it met his shoulders and back, the freckles that spattered over his pale skin…

“Mmhmm,” Sammy agreed. He twisted around, gazing at Ben with eyes dark as midnight and twice as deep.

“On second thought,” Ben breathed. “Maybe we can talk later.”

And then Sammy was kissing him, lips and skin hot in every place he was pressed against Ben. Ben shivered; he pushed forward into Sammy, trying to imprint every facet of this moment into his mind. Sammy’s hands came up to grab Ben’s waist and tug him even closer.

Or at least, Ben assumed that had been what he was trying to do.

As opposed to still being twisted around and unbalancing himself and then pulling Ben off balance as well, bringing both of them tumbling off of the couch onto the floor.

Sammy lay on his back, with Ben having landed partially between him and the couch and partially on him.

For a second, they both sat in stunned silence.

Ben was the first one to break out of their shock as he began to laugh.

Sammy couldn’t help but grin up at him. “Laughing at my pain, huh?” He reached up to shove at Ben’s shoulder. Ben caught Sammy’s hand with his own, bringing it to his face to kiss the back of his knuckles.

“Does it help if I kiss it better?” he teased.

“Gee, I don’t know,” Sammy answered. “Maybe you should try again?”

And. Well. There was no way Ben could argue with that.

#samben #kfam #comet's fics #writing prompts #long post

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Wicked Games (Chapter 21)

“Every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need.” - Daniel Caesar

It was now Thursday and the team was huddling together during a timeout. We were in the middle of our game against our rivals, Bearmount College.

Not only is Bearmount College a traditioned rival to our school, since we both typically are always battling it out for the top spot in the conference in almost every sport. There was also an extra level added for our pride because Coach Tommy and Bearmount’s head coach played in college together. For me though, the biggest reason why I take this game so seriously is because their top guard is my own personal college rival.

Hanna Grace. Don’t let the name fool you, she does not have much grace to her. She is cocky and overly aggressive. Her play style is completely different from mine. I like to beat people with my technical skills, she likes to beat people mentally. I have to give credit where it is due though, she is phenomenally talented at what she does. She has incited numerous fights and has personally caused multiple people to get suspended throughout her career. I would imagine much of Bearmount’s success is linked to how she is able to manipulate and distract her opponents into making reckless, emotional mistakes.

She is one of those players that does everything she can to get under your skin. She talks to you the whole entire game, biting on every insecurity you may have. If you make a mistake, she won’t let you forget it. She constantly swipes at your arms in a very subtle manner that most referees do not notice because it is when you don’t have the ball in your hands. However, when you do have the ball in your hands, she is not afraid to get in your personal space, screaming at you, and if she fouls you, she fouls you hard. The whole forty minutes she pushes you physically and mentally.

I dread, but also look forward to playing her every year. She is a senior same as me, so I have dealt with her my entire college career. I have won some against her and she has won some against me. To me, the real victory is being able to get through the game without losing my cool. Aside from one time my sophomore year, I have been able to accomplish that.

Ever since I started getting really successful on the court during my sophomore year she has taken a special interest in making my life hell. I learned the hard way that year that the girl does her research. She brought up the fact that my mother had cancer during a game. In response, I got in her face and started yelling at her. For the first time in my life I wanted to punch someone, but luckily I held back. She did enough to earn me a technical (my only technical of my career), but it didn’t go any further than that. I thought something like cancer should be an off limits topic, but Hanna is ruthless, nothing is off limits to her if she can gain a special edge and help her team to a win.

Although I have only truly been affected by her once, I was worried for this game. My emotions have been on a roller coaster ride this past month so I am not so confident I will be able to keep calm. I normally consider myself one of the best in the game at keeping my composure, but against her, anything can happen.

We were up by five with one minute left in the first half. Despite the lead, I had been playing mediocre by my standards and Hanna was enjoying every moment of it. I had kept my composure well so far, but I could not deny that she was starting to wear on me. Her aggravatingly high pitched, but stern voice had not been quieted since the game started. She was in my ear whether I was on offense or she was on offense. I was amazed that she could even make time to breathe.

The refs were not calling many reaching fouls either and Hanna was taking advantage of that. Her arms and hands were all over me any time I had the ball in my palms, which was making it much more difficult to keep hold of the ball and run through our plays successfully.

“Camila!”

I looked up at Coach Tommy who had just yelled my name, realizing I had completely zoned out and missed everything he was telling our team. He looked at me with a mix of frustration and understanding.

He quickly strode towards me, putting an arm around my neck and angling me away from the rest of the girls so only I could hear what he said. “Is she starting to get to you?” he asked more softly than I would have expected. Coach was just as antsy as me when it came to playing against their star player. After four years, he understood as well as anybody else how much importance I placed on this game and besting one particular girl on the other team.

I hated to admit it, but she was starting to get to my head. I had missed my past three shot attempts and in our most recent offensive possession I had turned the ball over on an awry pass that was deflected by Hanna. I could hear her calling me ‘weak’ over and over again in my mind.

The refs blew their whistles signaling the end of timeout. Coach Tommy pulled out of his arm lock, but put his hand on my shoulder, demanding my full attention.

“You can either give her what she wants and believe all the nasty things she is saying about you, or you can believe in yourself and how great you can be and achieve what you want.”

I nodded at him, feeling his belief in me. Getting down on myself was only feeding into her hands. It would only benefit her, which is the opposite of what I want to happen.

The refs blew their whistles again, growing impatient with our stalling. I made eye contact with Coach Tommy’s dark blue eyes and nodded, letting him know I was mentally back in this game. He smiled and gave me a thumbs up with one his large hands. I turned and ran back out to the court with a newfound determination.

I stood in the right corner, watching Normani bring the ball down the court, putting two fingers in the air, signaling for our play called “Two”. Two posts go set a high ball screen at the top of the key for Mani. One post goes on the left side and one post goes on the right side. This play is rather simple for my position because the other two guards space out in the corners to be outlets if needed. The play begins once Mani makes her choice on which post screen she wants to use.

I was waiting for Mani to make that decision when Hanna’s irritating voice reached my ears.

“Too scared to have the ball in your hands again?”

That was a sly comment meant to dig at my pride and remind me of my recent mistakes. Before our timeout that would have bothered me, but since talking to Coach Tommy I felt much calmer. Besides, that comment was extremely tame in comparison to a lot of other things Hanna has said to me before. I didn’t even give her a glance.

Mani did an in and out move faking to her right and then crossed over to use Dinah’s screen on the left. Her defender got completely caught on Dinah’s brick wall of a screen, which forced Dinah’s defender to step out on Mani. The very moment she did that though, Dinah slipped towards the basket. Mani faked a pass to Emily in the corner, making Dinah’s man jump slightly to the right just enough to create an opening for Mani to give Dinah a beautiful bounce pass. Hanna tried to help over but by the time she got there it was too late, and even if she did get there in enough time I would have been wide open in the corner for a three. Dinah scored an easy left handed layup.

We weren’t given much time to be happy about that though because Hanna quickly threw an outlet pass from out of bounds to another guard on her team who sprinted up the court in transition, making an incredibly arching pass over my head to her teammate that was running down the opposite side of the court. Mani was there at the basket, preventing her from getting an open look, but the Bearmount guard performed a hesitation move, impressively finishing the contested layup.

Missy inbounded the ball to Normani and she lightly jogged up the court. Coach Tommy was yelling out instructions and tapping the top of his head, which means he wants us to slow down and run the clock out. The team went into their positions for the play Coach was calling for.

Mani tried to come in my direction, but her defender cut her off, purposely forcing her towards Emily’s side.

Mani drove towards the left wing and Emily dropped down to the block, making a V cut running up towards the opposite elbow to set a screen for Missy. Missy ran over top the screen, sprinting across the paint towards the block Emily just left. Unfortunately, her defender snuffed it out and she was not open for a pass.

Dinah from the other elbow stepped over to set a screen for Emily so that she could sprint up to the top of the key. She was only open for a small moment, but Normani was able to funnel a dagger to her that only Emily could catch.

Dinah set a screen on Emily’s right side, which she was subsequently about to use when her Bearmount defender stepped out and made a literal wall with her body, totally attempting to send Emily back to her left. They must have scouted this play because they knew exactly where we wanted to go with the ball. Emily made a freshman mistake and tried to force her way to the right anyway, but lost control of the ball as her defender swiped at it. Her and the Bearmount player got tied up and luckily, she held on long enough for the refs to blow their whistles and call a jump ball. It was still our possession.

I looked up at the shot clock, noting that we only had fifteen seconds left as we set up our sideline out of bounds play. Once again I was hanging out in the right corner, getting out of the way. The play was ran through, but nobody was open enough to get a comfortable pass. Eventually, Mani was able to get a risky long pass over to the left side of the court above the three point line. She drove towards the basket, but was cut off by a help side defender around the block. She quickly retreated back out to the wing.

“Ten, Nine, Eight!” our bench began screaming how much time was left on the shot clock. The play had broken down so I needed to get the ball in my hands. I swung my arms in the air, signaling to Normani to make a cross court pass to me.

I caught the ball on the right wing, with Hanna a mere inch from me defending, lifting her arm to swipe at my right hand once. I pivoted away from her, avoiding that strike.

“Five! Four!”

I started slowly dribbling towards the left, pretending to be looking for a hand-off from Emily who was standing at the top of the key, but then I quickly went into a crossover between my legs that Hanna bought and paid for. She lost her balance for a moment, not ready for my sudden change in direction, and I was able to dribble past her. I appeared to have an easy layup ahead of me, but just when I jumped off the floor, I felt a hard shove on my back and a stinging smack across my arm. I went down to the ground, hard.

I looked up, watching the ball roll around the rim and out as the shotclock buzzer went off. I missed, but heard the whistles from the refs, calling the obvious shooting foul.

“This is real basketball,” Hanna hissed at me as I laid on the ground, pain shooting from the knee I landed with all of my weight on against the floor.

For some reason, Hanna has always been of the opinion that I don’t play what she considers real basketball. She grew up in the inner city of Los Angeles, so she is accustomed to street style play. To her, I cannot handle aggressive opponents. Maybe that was true when I was a young freshman, but now I have no problem with that.

Why she is so narcissistic to think her form of basketball is the superior form of basketball, I don’t know.

Dinah and Missy rushed over to me and each one grabbed a hand of mine and helped me up.

I got up with a terrible pain and soreness emanating from my knee. I limped towards the free throw line. I stretched my leg, and bent it back and forth, trying to shake out the discomfort. Coach Tommy called to me, asking if I needed a sub, and I shook my head at him. No way was I coming out of this game and no way was I giving Hanna that satisfaction.

I went through my free throw routine. I spun the ball and dribbled it twice very quickly before going into my shooting form. I missed.

“Really Cabello? Can’t take a hit?” Hanna chimed in from my left using the wrong accent.

I clenched my jaw for a moment. The fellow senior purposely pronounced my name wrong just to irritate me more. It’s so small and stupid and yet it works. I am used to my name being mispronounced, but when you hear your name intentionally said wrongly about a hundred times in the span of one game, it starts to tug on your nerves.

“Quiet, 23,” the ref under the basket finally scolded her. A small smile reached my lips as I finally experienced some quiet.

I shook my leg out once more, the pain starting to subside slightly. The ball was passed back to me and this time I made sure to slow down and take my time. I took a deep breath, went through my routine, and then paused for a moment, making sure to bend my legs and then took my shot. Swish.

I ran back on defense for what I presumed to be the last possession of the first half. There were now sixteen seconds left and surely Bearmount was going to utilize the entire clock.

They started running through their play when their point guard lost control of the ball and it ricocheted off of her shin in my direction.

The ball was rolling across the floor and both me and the point guard from Bearmount dove on the floor to get it. We got on top of each other, fighting for control of the ball, until the refs blew their whistles to call a jump ball.

Hanna ran over and helped her teammate up, her high ponytail swishing from side to side. “Oh don’t worry, I know she loves that girl on girl action, that little lesbian,” she laughed to her teammate, motioning in my direction.

I smiled sardonically and shook my head in disbelief. How did she always know the perfect thing to say to poke the fire? I pushed my palms against the wood and got up from the ground.

Since we got the ball last jump ball, it was Bearmount College’s possession still. There was only nine seconds left now, however.

That means one thing. Hanna Grace is getting the ball.

I was proven right immediately when the ball was inbounded directly to her. She dribbled to the left wing calling for her teammates to clear out. I kept my eyes on her midsection, focusing on her body language so I could anticipate her next move.

She smoothly and easily crossed over between her legs twice, getting extremely low to the ground, waiting for me to slip up. I kept my footing and stayed solidly in the center of her body, angled slightly towards the baseline where my help defense is.

She dribbled towards the left for a moment, getting me to shift my feet, and then threw the ball behind her back. I assumed she would drive all the way to the basket. I assumed wrong.

I sprinted to get back in front of her and rushed to beat her to the basket. Only problem was that she didn’t go to the basket. She performed another behind the back along with a small step back once she reached the free throw line. I didn’t anticipate that, so I was too far back to reach her as she jumped in the air with her arm bent into her shooting form. She went through the motion and the ball went through the net as the buzzer went off.

She left her follow through in the air just to be a cocky jerk. One side of her mouth was lifted in a tight smile of disdain. “Too easy, Cabello! Too easy!”

I let my head drop for just a moment. She didn’t break my ankles, but it was nearly just as humiliating. Dinah put a hand on my shoulder as we jogged back towards the locker room. “You’ll stop her next time,” she encouraged me.

Back in the locker room, Coach Tommy went through his half time talk, making adjustments to our game plan. Our new emphasis for the second half is to feed it inside because Bearmount’s posts are weak in comparison to Dinah and Missy. Simultaneously, our trainer was poking and stretching my knee, applying some sort of tissue pain relief cream that smelled terrible. My knee was already turning a deep shade of purple, but honestly a bruise is nothing to really fret over because it could be something much worse.

“Are you just gonna let her push you like that?” Lauren exclaimed suddenly. I am not sure when she got here, but Lauren was seated at the locker to my right. My guess was she was referring to Hanna.

I had not spoken to Lauren once since Tuesday unless I had to because of basketball. It was nice being the one ignoring her for a change. Although my heart would still beat excitedly every time she attempted to speak to me, I would always remember the Matt situation, and it would immediately dampen those feelings. That gave me the courage and motivation to not respond to her. Maybe it was petty, but it was the best way I could think of to keep myself from forgetting that she is bad for me. I don’t trust myself to stay away from her and not see the fantasy version of her I created in my own mind. Instead, I keep the memory of her kissing Matt, the memory of her public declaration for him, and the memory of how guilty she looked when Keana exposed her at the forefront of my brain. If any other memories of good times between us tried to fight their way to the surface, I would cut them off immediately by flashing to the ones that hurt me.

“Hello?!” Lauren waved her hand in front of my face with clear agitation because I didn’t respond.

I looked at her coldly for just a moment and then looked back at the white board, pretending to focus on the play Coach Tommy had written on there. A simple, “yeah,” was all I gave her, which was even more than I wanted to offer.

She groaned and grumbled some words under her breath that I could not hear. Then she got up and left me alone at last.

I came out of halftime with my game stepped up to a higher level, but so did Hanna. Most of the possessions were like a chess match between us two. She was hitting buckets that shouldn’t go in and I was reading defenses like a book, making the right passes and taking the best shots.

It was the beginning of the fourth period and we were only up by three now. Our team was setting up our zone defense before Bearmount’s in bounds play started when Hanna shoulder checked me on her way to pass the ball in.

“Oops,” Hanna lipped with heavy sarcasm.

“Watch yourself, Grace,” Lauren threatened out of nowhere, appearing next to me.

Hanna stopped in her tracks and turned to the raven haired girl. “Oh, this doesn’t involve you sweetie.” Hanna spoke with a sing-song tone as though she was speaking to a child.

“She is my teammate so actually I am involved,” Lauren fearlessly stepped up to her.

“Who are you again? I don’t even think you were on the scouting report,” Hanna dismissed her and started walking again towards out of bounds.

I could already tell that comment had my teammate boiling by the furrowed eyebrows, stiffened body, and slightly popped open mouth about to respond with something equally nasty. Feeling like a parent reprimanding their child, I yelled, “Lauren!”

Her head snapped in my direction as I realized this was the first time I had directly addressed her in days.

“Stop. She’s not worth it,” I told her, doing my best to abate and deescalate the situation. Lauren nodded, but I could recognize that Hanna had already gotten to her with that one comeback. I quickly leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, “You’re playing amazing, don’t let her get to you.”

It was true. Lauren was playing one of her best games in a long time. She was on a roll, having just recently scored her fourth three-pointer of the game. If I wasn’t so mad at her, I would have been proud. I could not allow Hanna to mess with her confidence because this game was still close. Even if Hanna wasn’t lying like I presumed she was and Lauren wasn’t on the scout, she clearly should have been.

The ref handed the ball to Hanna to get their in bounds play started, so I had no more time to chit chat.

A few more minutes went on when Lauren hit a shot that was suspiciously close to the shot clock buzzer. None of us, including the referees, were quite sure if she had gotten the shot out of her hands in time or not.

We were all standing around, waiting as the refs reviewed the play using the monitors at the scores table. Of course, this was prime opportunity for Hanna to come bother me some more. She stepped up beside me. I braced myself for for more onslaughts, but she didn’t say anything for a minute or so, like she was just trying to annoy me with her presence. I was thankful though, because it was her damn voice that drove me insane, I could deal with her bad smell for a few minutes just fine. Then she had to go and ruin the quaint silence.

“Heard you and your girl broke up.”

That got my attention. I looked at her, my nostrils flaring at the mention of Emma.

She grinned triumphantly, seeing that she had finally won a reaction from me. “Oh.. sore subject?” Hanna’s voice dripped with fake sympathy. Her dark and long eyelashes fluttered with joy. “My condolences.” She over dramatically put a hand over her heart, feigning like she cared.

“Shut up,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh Cabello, why do you want me to shut up? Are you worried I’ll bring up the reason you two split?”

It was finally working. Hanna had found an angle that she could crack me open and mess around with my insides with.

“I heard she didn’t want you anymore. She finally realized that you’re nothing. Good for her.”

If smoke could fly out of my ears like in the cartoons, they would be in this moment. The game temporarily faded from my mind. I stalked towards her, staring her dead in the face with no fear. I was daring her to try something. She flinched backwards slightly, but only for a moment, keeping up her tough facade.

“You’re all bark and no bite,” I snarled.

She narrowed her eyes at me, but the arrogant smirk didn’t leave. “I know you’re probably desperate for a rebound, but I’m not gay, so could you please get out of my personal space?” she finished with a small shove to my shoulders.

We were standing close to the Bearmount bench so when Hanna shoved me a few of her teammates stood from their chairs and started talking excitedly, egging her on.

She was certainly very brave for shoving me like that. Most people in my position would have started swinging, but I am not most people. I knew what she was doing, she was trying to provoke me into doing something stupid that would have repurcussions. Something that would get me ejected from the game and possibly suspended. My team needed me in the game, not to get in a useless fight. Although I was pissed off and wanted nothing more than to punch her so hard that she could never smirk again, I was not going to let her get the best of me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same for another dark headed brunette on our team.

“Get the hell off of her!” I heard Lauren growl from behind me. I turned to see her charging towards us and before I could stop her, she shoved Hanna so hard she nearly fell backwards past the sideline into her bench.

I didn’t even have time to enjoy the sight of that because that is when all hell broke loose. Bearmount’s bench erupted. From the corner of my eye I could see multiple players running towards Lauren. Hanna was rushing back towards her too, with her arm wound up, ready to punch. I wasn’t about to let that happen, especially after Lauren had just come to my defense. I crossed the distance between me and Lauren as fast as lightning, wrapping my arms around her, basically picking her up, and started pushing her back to our side of the court. As I wrapped my arms around her, I felt a slight pain on the back of my head and realized it must have been Hanna who was in the process of punching Lauren, until I got in the way just in time. Instead I got punched in the back of the head. I ducked, hoping to avoid anymore hits.

Lauren was fighting me every inch of the way and hurling swear words at the other team. I had seen the green eyed’s temper before, but never in this capacity. She was like a rabid dog and started swiping at my arms and screaming at me to let her go.

I could hear yelling, but I had no idea what was going on behind me. To be honest though, I didn’t care. My only objective at the moment was calming Lauren down. “Lauren,” I spoke sternly, trying to gain her attention. That didn’t work, she was still looking everywhere but at me. I put my hands on either side of her face and firmly, but more softly this time said, “Lauren, Lauren, look at me.”

When she finally did what I asked and green met brown, I collectedly assured her, “It’s ok, I’m ok, calm down.”

To my surprise, Lauren instantly relaxed. For a moment, there was an unfamiliar tenderness in her eyes while she was looking at me. Despite the chaos of what was going on, my knees started feeling weak as I got lost in what felt like a trance looking into Lauren’s eyes. My heart started beating uncontrollably fast as we just stared at each other. I had all of her attention and I was addicted to that. I was relapsing quickly, getting high on her. My eyes could not help but to find their way to her full lips.

A very loud whistle from a ref snapped me out of it and I finally realized my hands were still resting on her cheeks. I quickly removed them and took a step back from Lauren, confident that she wouldn’t try anything else. I turned to my left to see Coach Tommy walking up to us with an upset look on his face. He immediatey huddled us back to the bench and yelled at us to stay there as he ran back out towards the court where now I could see there was two groups being separated.

Dinah was being held back by Normani, Jamie, and CG, while on the other side Hanna and six other Bearmount players were being held back by their coaches. The refs were in the middle of the two groups, mediating the situation.

Lauren and I shared a look like 'holy shit, what did we do’.

Ally placed a hand on my shoulder and her, along with the rest of our team on the bench started asking us questions about if we were ok and what happened out there. We both tried to answer the questions, but there was still so much commotion going on that I couldn’t focus.

I couldn’t make out what Dinah was saying, but she was screaming her head off back and forth with the group of Bearmount players all by herself.

Eventually, everyone was separated and dragged back to their respective benches. Dinah was pacing by the water cooler, ranting to Normani. Coach Tommy’s head was so red I thought it might explode and CG was yelling at Lauren by the gym doors at the top of her lungs. I understood why they were furious with Lauren, but I was feeling the complete opposite emotion. I was flattered.

She cares.

Yeah, maybe it is not in the way I want, but I have lost sight of the fact that she does care about me as a person. It’s not fair that just because I have feelings for her that she can’t reciprocate, that I should cut her out and ignore her. Yes, it will be extremely difficult for me to be friends with her, but the least I should do is try.

It did not take long for the refs to come to the decision to eject Hanna, Lauren, and three of Bearmount’s bench players. It is an NCAA rule that if a bench player steps on the court for any reason during a fight, they are automatically ejected. Luckily for us, none of our bench players stepped on the court, mainly due to the quick thinking of CG and our trainer, who held everybody back.

The rest of the game went on relatively without a hitch. The tension and aggression levels were still pretty high, but without Hanna on the floor, Bearmount stood no chance against us. They have no one else on their team that can match her level of obnoxious intensity.

We all sat around in the locker room after the game, everyone abuzz with the events of the game. I, on the other hand, was sitting quietly in my locker, somberly reflecting on everything that had occurred. I was proud of myself for how I handled the nuisance that was instigating and prodding at my anger, but things she had said, particularly about Emma, left me feeling down. I was elated that we won the tumultuous game, but I was not impressed with how I performed.

I looked to my right to find Lauren sitting at her locker with an almost equally crestfallen expression. For a small moment I wanted to get up and go hug her, but then I remembered the prior week’s events and re-centered. Still, I needed to speak with her.

I trudged over to her, slightly nervous. I was still shocked that she came to my defense the way she did and conflicted about how I should approach our friendship with the feelings that I have. I still had not decided whether I should be glad for what Lauren did or angry at her for it either.

I cleared my throat. “Hey.”

The pale faced Junior looked up at me. Her mouth twitched slightly as she blinked at me, but her facial expression did not change much. “Hi,” she spoke delicately.

I sighed, scratching the back of my neck and feeling awkward. “I just wanted to say thank you. You stuck up for me and I wanted to let you know that I appreciated that.”

Lauren’s eyebrows raised slightly, astonished. “You’re welcome.” Her eyebrows went back down as she crossed her arms and continued, “That girl is just jealous of you.”

I scoffed and shook my head, not believing that for a moment.

She made eye contact with me subsequently after my dismissal and added, “What’s there not to be jealous of?”

I stared at her and she stared at me. My mouth dried at the flirtatious undertone of what she had just said. 'Wait, no’ I thought to myself, 'she is just being nice’. Here I go again, trying to believe in this fantasy version of Lauren, trying desperately to assume that every look she gives me is filled with love or desire, and every thing she says to me has a seductive motivation. 'Stop being delusional’ I censured myself.

“Um.. thanks,” I responded before quickly spinning around to go back to my locker and leave my delusions in the dust.

Coach Tommy gave us all a long and critical talk in our post-game meeting. He understood Lauren’s response completely, as most everyone did. Many heads nodded in agreement when Coach expressed that sentiment, however he was disappointed in how she had handled her feelings of anger toward Hanna Grace, as well as her need to protect her teammate.

To my resentment, Coach made an example out of me. He told our entire team that how I handled the situation should be how everybody handled a situation like that. I felt bad for Lauren because I could tell she felt like no one was supporting her or coming to her defense, so I did.

I raised my hand and once Coach Tommy saw me, he nodded in my direction, giving me permission to talk. “Lauren had my back like a real teammate today. Sure, it is unfortunate that we might lose her for a couple games over this, but I know now that Lauren is loyal to this team and willing to defend all of us if someone should try to bring us down. I trust her as a teammate more than ever now and I just felt like that needed to be said.”

I was relieved to see most of the other heads in the locker room nod in agreement. I chose not to look at Lauren because who knew what kinds of feelings that might stir up inside of me.

Soon enough, the talks were over and we were all free to go home for the night. I was relieved because I needed to work on my Neuroanatomy project tonight.

I changed my clothes, packed up all of my stuff, and said my goodbyes to my teammates. Exiting the locker room door, I turned the corner of the hallway to head for the parking lot doors. Leaning up against the wall with one foot propped up was none other than Hanna Grace. Her jet black hair was put up in a messy bun. Her duffel bag was lying on the floor next to her and she was in normal clothes. Nike leggings covered her long, athletic legs, and a basic Bearmount College basketball sweatshirt, covered her upper body. She smirked with contempt as soon as she saw me.

It did not take long before she had something to say. “Was that your new girlfriend coming in to fight your battles for you?”

It was like she had been waiting for me and had prepared that line. She truly is one of the most annoying people I have ever come across. “With how weak your punch was, I don’t think it would have been much of a battle for me,” I countered.

She laughed bitterly, nodding in approval to my comeback. She had one of her own though. “Does the rest of your team know about your new romance?”

My jaw clenched slightly, but I smiled, pretending to be completely unfazed.

“Want me to tell them? I can spread the good news for you,” she continued.

I laughed at that comment. The threat was real, but I was unconcerned because I knew my team would never believe her anyways considering she is the source. I relaxed completely knowing she had zero leverage against me and I had come out victorious tonight. The girl was now grasping at straws to edge out a mental victory, but I was not going to allow that for her. I realized in this moment that I truly had bested her today, considering she was going to these kinds of lengths to try to get to me after the game.

“Have a good night, Hanna.”

I waved her goodbye and strolled out of the building into the cold breeze of the night.

______________________________

Wattpad: mothertruckin

#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #camren #based on song #angst drama #submission #Wicked Games

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katleowriting · 6 years

Text

Sister of Darkness-The Turning Point S1 E10

Summary Entire Work: Elena has an older sister, her name is Parker Gilbert. Katherine had a cousin who’s name was Patience. Tatia had a cousin who was raised as her sister named Petra. But unlike the Doppelgangers they don’t just look identical, they are the same person reborn. Parker in all of her lives has had powers of the mind. Eventual a Kol/OC romance and many OC’s with almost everyone friendships

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001889/chapters/38833478#workskin

The Turning Point

Salvatore Boarding House

Parker sat with Liz in her cruiser on the way to the Salvatore boarding house. Liz had woken her up that morning because of another vampire attack; she used Parker to confirm it. So here Parker was riding with the sheriff to the Salvatore house. Once there it was Liz who knocked on the door. Stefan opened the door with a slight look of shock. Parker wasn’t sure how Stefan would react to seeing her, after all she had done nothing to try and stop his brother from mauling her little sisters best friend.

"We're here to see Damon," Liz said looking at Stefan.

"Uh yeah," Stefan said stepping aside as Damon came around for the door.

"Uh Sheriff, what a surprise." Damon said looking at the Sheriff barely glancing at Parker.

"I'm sorry to bother, we need to talk." Liz said in her 'this means business' voice aka what Parker and Caroline dubbed her Sheriff voice.

"Come on in," Damon said catching on.

"Um, you two talk I have something's I need in my old room. When you're done sheriff just leave, I'll be fine, I can walk home need some good old fresh air." Parker said before walking off and going to her old room.

In her room Parker started looking through some of her old stuff. Most of her stuff was boxed up in the room. Going through a box of her old art stuff Parker pulled out a sketch she had done of Zach, Sara and herself. Looking at it Parker smiled, it was the day of her twenty first birthday Zach and Sara pitched in and bought her a new art easel and paint sets. Putting the sketch down Parker continued to dig through the box and a couple minutes later Stefan and Damon both stood in the doorway looking at her.

"You may enter if you like, how did your chat with Liz go?" Parker asked setting aside more art work.

"Good, Liz said you took the day off work and could help me. I didn't know you took on a vampire alone before." Damon said as he looked at a sketch Parker had done.

"Yeah, I have, and I know you have the watch and you interfere with the signal. Do you want me to use it for you? I’m pretty sure otherwise you’d use Caroline and I’d prefer if she stayed out of this." Parker said looking up at the older Salvatore.

"That would be greatly appreciated, but only if you can handle being around people." Damon said causing Stefan to raise an eyebrow.

"Did I miss something? I thought you two hated each other?" Stefan asked stepping next to Damon looking at some of Parker's art as well.

"We had a chat." Damon said as Parker stood up to leave.

"See you later Stefan, you can keep checking the stuff out if you want, let's go Damon." Parker said walking out the room with Damon.

Around Mystic Falls

Once outside Damon handed Parker the watch and they got into Damon's car. Once in town Damon parked his car and ran off so as not to mess with the watch. Parker started walking around town following the watch, every once in a while, she had to shake her head to offset the buzzing, she didn’t want to drink alcohol so early in the morning in front of Liz. After walking around for about an hour Parker stopped in front of a warehouse. After sending Damon a quick text she waited for him to arrive a second later.

"So this is the place," Damon said looking at the warehouse, "doesn’t look like much."

"Well that is because you don’t know what this place is. This is a warehouse maintained by the sheriff’s department and is where we store wooden bullets and other things that we use against vampires. Only members that have been on the council for years know about it, or were showed it by whomever trained them, you haven’t been on it long enough. Many members, even though you’re a founding family member, still might view you as an outcast." Parker said with a smirk looking at Damon.

"You have got to be kidding me." Damon said before receiving a serious look from Parker.

"Nope," Parker said before starting to walk up to the door with Damon.

Walking into the mostly dark warehouse, very little litter got inside making it the perfect place for a vampire without a sun ring to stay, not many people went into it because it was owned by the police department. Damon walked in front of Parker and looked both ways before stopping and his eyes widening before a gun was fired and he got shot. Looking over Parker gasped at the sight of Logan 'Scum' Fell.

"I've got tons of these wooden bullets so nothing funky," Logan said to Damon but never taking his eyes off Parker.

"Scum Fell, lovely to see you." Parker snarked with a glare.

"Courteous as ever Ms. Gilbert," Logan said before shooting her and making her drop to the ground in pain.

Parker lay on the floor in pain, the pain causing the buzzing in her head to get louder and stronger. The buzzing started turning to fuzz and static slowly starting to over whelm her. Parker tried to focus on what Logan and Damon were saying to each other but the static in her head became so strong mixed with the pain form the bullet she passed out.

Parker wasn't sure how long she had been out when she felt something running down her throat and a hand at the spot where she was shot pulling the bullet out.

"Gah," Parker said pushing Damon's wrist away from her mouth.

"I don't care, come on." Damon said helping her up, together they walked out of the warehouse.

Salvatore Boarding House

Damon had vamp sped them to the boarding house and into Parker's old room. "I didn't give you enough blood, due to the wounds he gave you; please tell me you have a first aid kit."

"Yes, go Damon find Logan and kill him." Parker said cringing as she moved. Once Damon left her room Parker took her shirt off and saw that Logan had shot her more than once, the cause for Damon not giving her enough blood. Slowly Parker started bandaging up the still slightly open wounds in her bathroom.

"Fell's at the school," Damon said walking into her bathroom but stopping when he saw she didn't have a shirt on.

"Well then let's go." Parker said grabbing a new shirt from a box nearby and walking out the door.

Random Street Mystic Falls

Ten minutes later Damon sat Parker down next to Stefan as Stefan threw Logan out of a car. As Logan started to run at them both Damon and Parker shot at him.

"Payback's a bitch isn't it?" Damon said smirking as Logan fell to the ground.

"Stefan take her to the hospital, I'll be there shortly to talk to the doctor." Parker said before Stefan takes off to the hospital, and she picks up the phone, "Sheriff, Caroline is on her way to the hospital to be checked. I'm headed there in a moment."

"Thank you, Parker." Liz said with a sound of relief before Parker hung the phone up.

Parker grabbed the tire iron from Damon, with a few well-placed swings Logan was gasping up at the two above him. Damon just stood back and watched as the human let out her frustrations on the young vampire. After a couple minutes of swinging at Logan Parker handed the now slightly bloodied tire iron back to Damon.

"Good luck," Parker said to Damon before running off in the direction of her house a block away to get her car. As she ran Parker started to blink rapidly to try and stop a pain in her head, grabbing her and cringing in pain Parker started to run faster until she was to her driveway. Once at her driveway Parker shook her head and walked to the front door of the house and walked in stumbling to the bathroom. Once inside the bathroom she slowly started to reach for the bottle of aspirin, before her hand touched the bottle a large wave of pain went through her head causing her to drop to the floor, slight convulsions wracked her body. Before everything went black Parker could see the bottom of a hoop skirt and Emily Bennett frowning down at her.

#sister of darkness #parker gilbert #liz forbes #damon salvatore #Stefan Salvatore #Logan Fell #TVD #tvd fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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solarbird · 6 years

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The Armourer and the Living Weapon, Chapter 16: Sanjay and Kishori

This chapter contains canon-level violence.

[AO3 link]

The brown-eyed woman raised her right eyebrow. "Oxton."

"Last name only? A bit formal for a waitress, don't you think?"

"Lena Oxton," replied said waitress in her formal black-and-whites, with a bit of a nod. "Mum." Her curly walnut hair - a reasonably convincing wig - bobbed a little with the rest of her head.

"Well then, Lena," said the older woman in her dark business suit - a bit out of place in the grandstand, but layered with enough of the right kind of jewellery to make it up - "why don't you be a good girl and see what you can do about a better version of this." She handed over a lightly-sampled vodka martini, which the waitress took and gracefully placed atop her tray. "I'll be out on the terrace - I'm sure you can find me."

"Right away, mum."

The woman turned back to her colleagues as Tracer slid away, through the crowd, drink on a small tray. "Any sign of 'em yet?" she subvocalised over comms hidden in her ear.

"Non, ma chérie," came Widowmaker's reply from the roof of the recently-rebuilt Maternity Hospital, less than a kilometre south. "If they're outside, I do not have them."

"They're here, somewhere. I've spotted the driver," came Oilliphéist's voice, from atop a fully-rented B&B on the hill to the northwest. "No sign of targets yet, though."

Trader handed the glass over to the Canadian bartender working with the English-speaking waiters. "She says she wants a 'better' one," and the mixologist nodded. "I saw. More vodka?"

"Given how she's been drinkin'? Probably."

"Gimmie a sec, there's a rush." She dumped the glass and queued a double as Tracer turned around and leaned back against the end the bar, coolly surveying the £11,000-a-seat crowd, a mix of celebrities, the 'rich,' and the actually-rich, some few actively caring about the Brazil Grand Prix - those, mostly out in the heat of the pavilion overlooking the track and pits - mixing with a larger number there more to party on their parents' money. The rest hustled and toadied, currying favour with all of the above.

All these bloody 'luxury grandstands' look the same to me, Lena thought, still scanning the glittering crowd, as her supervisor stepped up with tray full of cocktails. "Oxton, do a circuit. I'll take care of the outdoor delivery."

"Gotcha," she said, looking over the drinks. Damn, she thought. No mojito. As her supervisor vanished with the double martini, she leaned back to the bar. "Chloe, priority mix me a mojito for this tray? Please?"

"Why?"

"I've had a bloke on me for one, he's really annoying." A small lie, but only a small one, and she absolutely wouldn't do a circuit without Sanjay Korpal's favourite drink. "Heavy on the mint."

"Right."

"I have him," came Emily's voice in Lena's ear. "Oh, better - I have them both."

"Where?" breathed Widowmaker.

"Behind too much glass. Tracer, second tier, third window from the north."

Lena smiled at Chloe as she added the drink to her tray, and stepped back from the bar. "Thanks," she said, to both the bartender and her counterparts. "On my way."

-----

"I really don't know what we're going to do about this," Kishori said, as quietly as could be said as the F1 automobiles roared by, outside the windows. "The board is on lockdown, neither of us know why - and you're sitting here watching noisy antiques being driven around in circles."

Sanjay smirked, the right side of his mouth twitching up, as he watched the action on the track, actually interested despite himself. He wasn't sure what he liked about it - the noise, the smell, the chaos, everything so utterly unlike everything Vishkar stood for, at least, in theory.

"Reyes has always been volatile," he replied, eyes not leaving the cars tearing their way down the track. "This is not the first time his paranoia has run away with him."

"Half my agents have gone quiet. I don't think this is paranoia."

Sanjay shrugged, having seen it all before, when Akande went to prison. "I don't pretend nothing is going on. I just know the best way not to be involved is... not to get involved. It will blow over." He wondered whether what really kept him on edge was the possibility of a fiery crash and explosion. Even the qualifiers - like the race in front of him - were more than their fair share of dangerous, and his pulse quickened a little as two cars bumped tires during an attempt to pass.

"Boisson, madame? Boisson, monsieur?" A brown-eyed waitress with curly walnut hair and a fleet of cocktails stepped to the small serving table between and behind the box seats, and Sanjay looked back at the tray. "I don't suppose you..."

"English? Of course, my apologies," Tracer said in her carefully-coached French accent. "Cocktails, sir? Madame?"

"Water," said the older woman. "If you have it."

"Of course, madame." She reached forward and across, her hand on the back of the woman's chair, and placed a small cocktail napkin on the table, along with iced water. The small tracking device attached to her collar was as complimentary as the drinks, of course.

"You wouldn't have a... oh, is that a mojito?"

"Yes, sir. But if there is something specific, I would of course be happy to fetch..."

"No, I'll take that." He reached and leaned over to grab it himself, and Lena insured the tray toppled in a way that made it clearly his fault, the drinks cascading into their chairs.

"Oh, for... Sanjay!" Kishori glared at the other Talon board member, as she dodged alcohol, extracting herself from her seat.

"Monsieur, madame, I am so sorry, it is entirely my fault! Please, allow me..." She dabbed carefully with a large cloth napkin, leaning forward as she had with his viewing companion, tracker number two attached as had been tracker one. "It appears that for the most part the... damage is to the chairs. I will summon cleaning staff at once. Would you like me to bring your drinks to your outdoor box?"

"That," Sanjay said, embarrassed, "might be the best idea. Kishori?"

"My seat is soaked, thank you - I'll be outside." She picked up her glass. "But I'll take my own water."

"Very good, madame. Monsieur?"

"Just get me another goddamned mojito," he snapped.

"Vous avez renversé de la vodka sur, ah, I, there is a bit of vodka on your sleeve, here, I have remover..."

"He's fine," Kishori interjected. "Let's go, before you embarrass yourself any further."

"I will bring your replacement drink to you. Would you like an escort to the outdoor grandstand?"

"No," he snapped. "I know where it is. Extra mint."

"Very good, sir," she smiled contritely and bowed a bit, backing away. "I will bring you your drinks presently."

She watched from the bar - cleaning staff already alerted, replacement mojito queued - as the two Talon board members fussed a bit more at themselves, and at each other, before picking up and heading towards the terrace. "Packages en route," she subvocalised. "Trackers," not tracers, she thought, amused at herself, "in place."

"Your accent has improved," Widowmaker said, into her ear. "But you would not fool a native French speaker."

"Yeh, yeh," she subvocalised. "Good thing they're from India, innit. You got 'em?"

"Signals are clear and locked..." said the Widowmaker. "Movement tracking verified. Both trackers confirmed live and functioning."

"Nice work, luv. How much vodka you dump on him? He won't change before going out to the afterparties tonight, will he?"

"Nah - he'll be fine. Everything else ready?"

"We can go as soon as you slip away."

"Gotta get 'em their drinks first," Lena smirked. "Wouldn't want 'em t'go thirsty."

"'course not," Oilliphéist snickered.

"Very well. I will watch for your departure at the gate."

"See y'soon."

-----

[São Paulo Yacht Club, some hours later]

"I'm not going to waste any more time with this stupidity," Kishori snapped. "The cars are bad enough, now you want to go boat racing?"

"I don't expect you to come along for the ride. You're perfectly welcome to stay inside and be grumpy at potential backers."

"You promised ... ah," she dropped a small hologrammatic card, made a frustrated noise, picked it back up, and glared at it. Even at a distance, Tracer could clearly see the yacht club's logo. "This nonsense is a complete waste of my time. I am leaving."

Bugger all,, thought Tracer, now all in black with the wig long gone, backing the slightest bit away as Sanjay ran after his ally. "You hear that, luvs?" she asked, over comms. "She's leaving early. Should I track 'er?"

"No - stay with Korpal," the Widowmaker replied from her position in Parque Guarapiranga, across the water, but with an excellent view of the club's boat launch. "Oilliphéist, do you have her?"

"Not yet, but I certainly will," replied her counterpart, chuckling, from the playfields to the south.

"Are you tracking her?" clarified Widowmaker, dryly.

"Tracking signal clear and strong," Oilliphéist confirmed. "Mind if I have some fun? Different methods would cloudy the picture..."

"I cannot imagine you doing anything less. Go."

Tracer worried a bit at the idea of Emily letting herself have fun. "Don't let's make a mess, Oilliphést."

"Oh, Tracer, don't worry. I'll be careful."

"I don't mean, that, I mean, just..." She felt conflict rising inside her as opportunities began to realise themselves. "...don't draw it out."

"What do you... oh!" She heard a bit of laughter over the comms. "Don't worry! I'm not going to torture her - though it's not like she hasn't directed her own fair share of that. No, no, I'm just going to make it... interesting! For me. It's not as much fun without a challenge, is it?"

"Ricochet shot?" asked the senior assassin.

"Maybe! But we'll see. I'll improvise."

"As long as she goes down," Widowmaker stressed.

"I'm on mission, sweet. She'll go down."

"Perfect."

"I don't care!" Sanjay shouted, regaining Tracer's attention. "Just... send the car back to pick me up when you're done." Lena watched as he waved his arm after Kishori, frustration clear in the motion, before turning back towards the yacht club, where he presented an invitation to the tuxedoed man at the door.

"Don't suppose we've got one of those holograms?"

"I'm afraid not, cherie."

"Right. Long 'way 'round it is."

"Be careful not to wake the capybaras on the beach."

"I'll do my best, love."

-----

Tracer made her way all but silently through the wetlands to the club's south, dance music and boat engines masking her approach. Huh. Didn't think he was the thrill-seeking type, she thought, as she watched Korpal walk towards the boat launch. Is he actually going t' get in one of those?

As it turned out, he was not. Instead, he presented a small teleporter-like device, which projected a hardlight foil racer, similar in size and shape to the two traditional boats already in the water. She could see him grin and nod at other two pilots, who argued with him noisily, one in Portuguese, the other in Mandarin.

"Please tell me you're gettin' some of this," she said, quietly, in comms.

"I have a little of the Portuguese - I believe they're saying he cannot be an entrant, but he may demonstrate his, I think, toy?" She snorted. "From their tone, they have decided he is... gauche, I think."

Tracer smirked, but kept it quiet. "Looks like a closed cowl from here. Can you shoot through that?"

"Almost certainly, though it is difficult to be sure, with hardlight. It would be better if I could get him on the water, without so many close witnesses. He may have many enemies in this city, but it is still worth complicating any investigation, if we... ah, look."

"Yeh, I see it." Korpal guided his craft into the water, climbed aboard, the ship's cockpit sealing itself as he settled into the pilot's seat. He rolled the little boat, foils retracted, demonstrating that he could, and gunned the quiet - but not excessively quiet - engine. The Portuguese-speaking woman made a disgusted noise and walked away, back towards the club, but the other man laughed, jogged over to his racer, jumped in, and cast off.

The two boats roared towards deeper water, and the glittering crowd in the catering tent turned to look at the two sleek ships slicing through deeper water, matching manoeuvres one to one, and Tracer grinned, wickedly.

"...I've got an idea," she said, and, carefully but almost impossibly quickly, made her way to the second launch.

"I... hm, yes. You can...?"

"I can pilot anything, love," she replied, slipping into the Portuguese racer and casting off, following the first pair. "I think it's time for a boating accident."

-----

I knew she couldn't resist, Sanjay thought, grinning, as he saw the third racer, with its São Paulo Yacht Club flag, charging up from behind. Too much pride involved - so easy to manipulate. He gunned the hardlight engine, making it roar - an illusion, of course, the engine was all but silent, but appearances matter - and the São Paulo boat responded in kind, foils out, coming up on his port side, riding very, very close - and bumping, hard, hull to hull.

Oooh, playing rough? I like it, he thought, grinning and bumping back, before spinning round, already past the park, heading northeast, both carbon-fibre craft slower than his 'round the turn.

I'm faster in the straights, Lena thought, calculating. He's got the edge in manoeuvrability, but I'm faster. As she caught up, she shoved him west, port flank against starboard, hard. The Shanghai craft caught up as well, getting into the game, standing off just a bit before gunning past them on the starboard side, the pilot apparently quite happy to let the other two slow each other down. He reached the third buoy in the clear lead, and spun tightly and precisely around it, back down the temporary racing lane, off again before the other two could even get 'round.

"Enjoying yourself, cherie?" came Widowmaker's voice over comms.

"Honestly?" She grinned like a madwoman. "Yeh. I am. This is fun. Think you can do something about the SYC's steering?"

"I believe I can damage the starboard foil. If you could make that engine roar again..."

She did, and there was a little bit of an extra bang, but nothing that sounded like a gunshot, and the Shanghai Yacht Club-flagged craft slowed, veering just a little, slowing to compensate. The Vishkar and São Paulo craft closed, quickly, then passed, as the Shanghai pilot veered off the course, heading back towards the launch.

"I like that," Tracer said. "Ready for your shot?"

"I am, as always, ready."

"I'm gonna ram 'im again. See if you can nick his foil at about the same place?"

"I understand." As they rounded the southern buoy again, Tracer slammed her ship hard into Sanjay's hardlight craft, sending it west, towards the park, where Widowmaker waited, and fired, and Korpal's craft veered the slightest bit further to port, almost exactly at the same point.

He bhagavaan!, thought Sanjay, as his craft shook, and he moved to reset the foil. Something's in the water. Or is it that damned...

"Well, guess that's answered. I'm gonna hit 'im again. You ready?"

"Of course," the assassin purred, as Tracer threw her ship's prow directly into the Vishkar foils. Sanjay's ship flipped, rolling, and as he panicked, Widowmaker sighted, targeted, and fired, the hardlight canopy dissolving like so much candy floss in the water, and Sanjay Korpal's head with it.

"Perfect," she purred into comms, as Lena spun her craft around.

"I think we made a bit of a splash tonight, don't you?"

Widowmaker chuckled, darkly. "Agreed."

"Care to shoot this one's engine? It's combustible..."

"Acknowledged," she said, firing, seeing the craft catch fire, slowing, as light flashed from the cockpit and then beside her, copper eyes now glinting in what would be the darkness. "Oilliphéist, target one down. Check in."

"Oooooh, I saw," came Emily's voice, liquid, thick with ecstasy. "Beautiful. That was lovely work, hon. You too, Tracer - gorgeous."

"Thanks," Lena said, still grinning, for just a moment, before not. "I... I..." she shook her head. "Uh. How's your... target?"

"Oh, she's taken care of. A mugging gone bad, I'm afraid. The area around the track is awfully sketchy, and always has been... really, she shouldn't've gone back there on her own like that."

Emergency sirens blared in the distance, as the burning SPYC craft drifted, sinking, following the Vishkar boat underwater. "We should go," said Widowmaker, sternly. "Rendezvous point one, immediately, yes?"

"On my way. This has been the best date. I'm so happy."

Tracer's smile returned, as she replied. “Yeh. See you soon.”

#widowtracer #tracemaker #gingerspider #overwatch #talon #talon!emily #emily oilliphéist gardner #oilliphéist #lena tracer oxton #tracer #widowmaker #danielle guillard #also on ao3 #overwatch au #lena oxton

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okimargarvez · 6 years

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ONTO PARADISIAC FLAME- 3

Original title: Onto paradisiac flame.

Prompt: regret, bus sequestration, fear of love.

Warnings: mentions of sex, smut, friendship.

Genre: romantic, action, smut.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, JJ, Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 💏😘😈🔦.

Song mentioned: none.

Onto Paradisiac Flame- Masterlist

-I understand, but... why do you think I gave you the kitten?- it's a strange thing, he is able to go over what happened yesterday, but also to stay in the present. And in any case, the common denominator is her. Luke will never know if she would have found the courage to answer him, because their dialogue is interrupted by a shout:

-Careful, ladies and gentlemen, this isn0t a robbery, but you are all life threatening. If you'll be still and silent, at least for now nobody gets hurt.- Penelope and Luke exchange a look. They both know that he has a gun, but this could become a problem, instead of being a source of salvation, both for them and for the other passengers. -We want to send a message only to certain brass of this city. If we have to, we kill someone, but we would be happy if we hadn't to do it.- sounds like a hope, but the looks of the two men who both wearing a black ski mask (not very creative), seem much more menacing of their words.

-Now we walk between you all with a bag. Throw your phones and electronic equipment here.- the other that still hadn't spoken demands, indicating to what he holds in his hands. Then he goes thowards the driver, maybe pointing to a new direction to take.

With a quick glance Penelope realizes that the old men in front of them are shaking, they could die without the intervention of these goons, of a heart attack... and a mother with a baby of just three years, is trying to pull the phone out of her bag, but fails because she is completely anxious. But Garcia feels strangely calm. She taps the arm of her colleague, trying to avoid being seen.

-Luke! I...- they have already arrived in the fourth row, and Penelope e Luke are sitting in the seventh. There isn't much time. He doesn't hear her, so she shakes him a bit stronger.

-What?- je asks in a whisper, leaning toward her. And getting lost himself, even at a time like this, staring at her red lips.

-I have already sent a message of... - but she is stopped when the skinny hijacker appears in front of them.

-Hey, you two, what have you to speak? Didn't you hear what are the rules?- she didn't have time to open her mouth, Luke anticipates her.

Yes, but ... she's feeling bad. She has a bad heart...- he is invented, without knowing that in part is telling the truth. In fact, after she was shot, some of the more traditional functions had been compromised and not everything worked as it was before. For example, it was impressed the pulmonary valve, which sometimes decided to "spit" back the blood, thus having to start over around again again, causing her pain, a sharp pain in the chest painful enough. She observed him with the corner of her eye. Now she is afraid. But not for herself.

-Miss, don't worry. If you behave well, it'll not happen anything.- again the words are reassuring, but the tone of the one and the lascivious look from the other, contrasting completely and lead to the exact opposite effect. She trembles a bit and Luke squeeze her shoulder, as he had done months earlier, during the process to decide whether Reid could stay home until they weren't the ruling was issued.

She is afraid for him because she knows that in the bag at their feet there is his gun. And in her bag, there are her documents, and he too will have his own... in short, if they find that they are FBI agents, they could decide to make an exception to their original purpose.

The man goes away, and his accomplice comes after a few seconds, he merely puts before them the black bag, now filled with cell phones, pager, a tablet, iPod. Reluctantly Penelope deposits her PC and the phone; Luke does the same whit his and the tablet on which are loaded the data of each case they had face, an allocation that was gave him from Bureau. It would be enough that they lighted one or the other, to see the screen with the federal logo. And goodbye.

They have only one hope. While watching the landscape changes, from urban to country, Garcia rejoices for having listened long ago Morgan, who advised her to always have a GPS equipped with alarm system that, by simply pressing a button, would send to the team leader (in this case Emily) the signal that something was wrong, she was in danger. And this little thing, with the size and the appearance of a button, it was fixed in heel of her shoe. It had been enough moving closer her shoes to activate it. But time ran fast and if they had reached a dark area? Who knows if Luke was been able to understand what she was saying before they hear her.

Luke. Why he exposed himself so much? Why he was determined to protect her, always? Well, it was probably in his nature, he did it with all the BAU members. But... with her he always seemed to go slightly beyond the line of simple friends...

Penelope, remembering the evening before- in the bar

It began as an evening any. The bar was always the same: O'Keef, where they often spent their "after" the case, even to remove the bitter taste. Everyone was very happy, they wanted to celebrate, even if JJ was remained short time, because she wanted to go back to Will and the children. Penelope had envied her. She loved to be with her colleagues, after all, they were her family, but that night there was something different, it was more difficult to keep smiling and pretending to have set aside the shouting that she had been forced to listen to, again and again, until to lose count, all to highlight background noises, that made understand them where it could be the basis of the unsub, and... they had not been even able to save her. When they broke into the building, the man had put an end to his suffering now, and also to those of the victim. Another name to a file, another case filed. Not for her.

It was since she had met Savannah that it not happened, but that night she needed, desperately need to drink to get drunk until the cells that had stored that data, would have disappeared, burned by alcohol. Or at least until she would fall into oblivion.

But she didn't put on quite a show, she didn't want that the others guessing her discomfort. After all, each of them had their own demons with which to fight. They had no need to lengthen the list of night visits. She had to be able to leave, to change local, end up in an unknown place where she would be just a dark shadow amalgamated with the others. An apparition, a ghost that would not let any tangible trace of its passage. And even the concern that she might do something reckless, that she will regret the morning after, even this don't have brushing her. Or worse, becoming the next photo hanging next to the blackboard in their conference room.

Who had raise the eyes first, who had catch the eyes of the other? This Penelope thinks, and she doesn't know yet answered. Maybe they were both, they had moved simultaneously. The fact is that, Penelope was coming back from the bathroom, and Luke had looked at her, and she had looked at him, but while she had diverted attention almost immediately, the man had still staring at her as she explained to the team that she doesn't feel fine and had preferred to go home. She was a bad liar, but not this time.

-But... I had to give you a ride... - Emily was upset. She too had her problems, including Reid and Mark. An evening out was what she needed, but if her friend was sick...

-Don't worry, I'll get a cab.- she had blocked the gesture of the brunette who was already about to wear her jacket. She had smile for strengthening the phrase. It wasn't just her impression: he hadn't stopped looking at her the whole time. And at the time to say goodbye, he had made his move.

-Almost, I go too... tomorrow I have to get up early to go out with Roxy...- it was his debut. His dark eyes shone, however, already. -I can take you home.- it wasn't been and it wasn't sounded as a proposal, but as an order, an inevitable condition. Penelope had thought for a moment whether to reject, to experience the thrill of the fight with the knowledge of the loss. Then she had raised her shoulders, with an indifferent gesture.

-Okay, Newbie.- she had had to say. As they were leaving, she still heard the laughter of their friends. But just outside the bar, she turned and had changed expression. -Do you remember that time I told you I didn't want to have your Judgy McJudgerson look as I sipped my drink? And I explained to you that I never drink more than two or three glasses...- she had attacked him right away, without waiting for any reaction from his part. -Here, it's time to exceed that threshold. I'll be direct with you, Alvez. I'm going to go to another place and lose the sense of myself. I don't ask you to accompany me, nor to approve it. Just leave me alone. Let go to your home, to your lover- (where does she get off?) -I don't care. The only thing I demand is that you don't say anything to the others.- she would pay to get into his head, figure out what the heck he was thinking of her one more delirium.

It was a bit too long they were standing there. And if someone had come out and had seen them? For this she had grabbed his arm and dragged into a dark area of the parking lot. -If... - he had finally opened his mouth. -If I'm free to go where I want, why I can't take you there?- his tone was a mix of childhood innocence and pure malice. But in the dim light she couldn't understand what kind of expression he had.

-No! Absolutely not!- sigh -Ok, since just you don't get it, I'll tell you abruptly: I want to get drunk, I'll do things I wish that no one, not even you, or the people I work with, can see. It's more clear now?- she was impatient, she was tired of having to fight against him and against herself. Because Luke seemed interested in her, but only as much as was normal between coworkers. Yes, of course, right. Tell it to someone else. Although it's unbelievable, he doesn't act only as a colleague or someone who wants to have good relations in the workplace. Above all, his looks are... strange. And strange is an understatement.

-I know it's not my right, but I can't leave a woman so colorful and sad all alone.- it was dark night, yes; yet she caught a flash of light and the glow of his smile. Sweet.

It was at that moment, when she was surrendered to his unjust claims, which had decided her own fate? Or even before, in that look tore at the time? It was inevitable. It was like a scene in a movie, a novel, not real. But it really was, it was all determined? No, she couldn't make fun of herself. It would have been enough say no, remain adamant, call the cab and go away. He couldn't force her to do otherwise. There wasn't something inevitable, but deeply desired, regardless of herself.

Luke had immediately understood to have won. He had walked to his truck. They hadn't spoken, he hadn't turned on the radio. Nothing but absolute silence. Fraught with possibilities and anxieties. The only thing she told him was the address of their destination.

-I know that no one could ever think of, but try not too closely on me, in there, ok? I didn't want you looked jealous boyfriend...- she laughed, but he not. His face had remained serious, he had even done almost afraid her. Almost. Once they entered, Penelope had no longer desire to get drunk. She had lost her inspiration. She blamed the presence of Luke, but she knew perfectly well that it was much more complex. At the end she had only drunk to bother him. And for the same reason she had accepted the advances of that playboy. Only just enough to checked if the face of her colleague was going to become green with jealousy. Then she didn't remember anything until the moment he had made her get in his van, but he wasn't directed at her home, but his. She hadn't had the strength to protest. Neither to asked questions. She had agreed to leave him the command, for now, until things went according to what she herself wanted. But how she couldn't wish for one as Agent Alvez? He wasn't less hot than Derek, although Morgan was enveloped in an aura of all other things, built in more than ten years of knowledge. On the athletic and physical especially, besides of Luke's muscular arms, there was Roxy, the way he made her a wink, the mystery about his private life that hadn't ceased to exercise its charm on her...

But it was one thing to be aware of wanting to physically, sexually Luke Alvez . Another was going to aspire to something more.

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#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #luke x penelope #penelope x luke #alvez x garcia #garcia x alvez #criminal minds #cm

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