#i kept trying to put it in penelope's pov | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plentyoffandoms · 1 year

Text

Chuck Taylor x f/Reader (18+)

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Chuck Taylor Masterlist ♡ Alternate Universe Masterlist

Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. If you are a minor, do not read. Virgin reader. Loss of Virginity. Oral (M and F receiving) Creampie.

WC: 5583

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & Photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @dragonairstims 2nd gif @graculuss 3rd @allelitewrestlings 4th & 5th & 6th gifs @tekkers

This is dedicated to the number one Chuck Taylor fan I know @legit9thlunaticwarrior

Summary: f/Reader decided to run away from home after her Father decided that she was going to be married off. She ends up lost & is saved by a Lumberjack who lives alone in the woods.

Dustin - Chuck Taylor ☆ Olivia - Penelope Ford ☆ Simon - Kip Sabian ☆ James - Orange Cassidy

Set in the 1890s

YN'S POV:

I looked out my bedroom window, hoping for it to be a cloudy night tonight because if not, then I have run out of time, but as I was just about to give up hope, clouds finally came.

I grabbed my hidden satchel from under my bed and my cloak and quickly put it on. I opened the window as gently as I could, trying not to make any sound, but as my foot landed on the ground, I stepped on a twig and I snapped it.

I didn't move as I waited to hear any movement from the room next door, where my parents slept, but no sounds could be heard besides my Father's snoring.

I closed the window and breathed a sigh of relief as stage one of my plan went off without a hitch, now just have to get through the next couple of stages.

I walked as quickly as I could through the property that my family owns, forcing myself not to look back at the home I grew up in. I knew I just had to get as far away as I could.

It would be hours before they realised I am gone. I just know they will send a search party to find me. Especially him. The man whose hand I have been promised to.

But I couldn't be his wife. I would be his third wife, his other two have both tragically died in some type of mysterious way and I refuse for my life to be cut short by some man.

So I did what I had to do. I had to run away from home and head deep into the woods and work my way across the rugged landscape and try not to succumb to the elements.

The sun was rising and will be overhead soon, but I will be deep into the forest by then, where any sunlight breaks through the peaks of the trees.

I walked and walked until I felt like it was finally safe to take a small break and eat a bit of bread. I pulled out the pocket watch my Father got me for my last birthday and noticed that it was well past noon. If they haven't found me now, they never would, but it is best to keep on moving. I walked for hours until I found a small cave and made camp there.

I made a small fire as it grew darker and tried to sleep, but the sounds of the forest kept startling me awake, but I willed myself to sleep for only a few short hours.

This was my new normal. Walk for a few hours, stop, rest, eat and walk until I couldn't anymore and make camp, but I feel like I am lost.

As I walked past what I assume is the same massive rock three times now. In my haste to leave, I forgot to grab one of the many compasses that my Father keeps in his study and now I am truly lost. Winter is fast approaching and I know I will die due to the harsh winters we have.

But I continued, instead of turning right or left, I just went straight and found a stream and decided to follow it, not knowing where it will take me, but this is better than what I was doing.

As I walked I noticed that there was a path and the foliage was cut back and out of the way. I became almost hopeful at the thought that this may lead me out of the forest.

But I heard a twig snap behind me and the sound of a gun cocking and the sound of a male voice, one that made my heart race as I stopped mid-step.

"Now you turn around. No sudden movement and I want your hands out in front of you." I did as the man asked, trying to cry or show any fear.

CHUCK TAYLOR'S POV:

As I was walking back towards my cabin, with my small catch of the day, when I noticed a new set of footprints walking towards it. The footprints were smaller in comparison and I knew they were not mine.

I moved as quietly as I could, not wanting to give myself away when I noticed a woman, who was alone, walking just a bit away from me.

I followed her a bit longer, trying to be quiet and I was doing well until I stepped on a twig. I watched as the woman stopped and I knew this was my time to talk.

I brought my gun up and cocked it, demanding the strange woman to raise their hands and turn around. She did as I asked and I could tell she was trying to put on a brave face.

"Now tell me your name and why you are on my land?" I noticed that she gulped but didn't speak.

"I asked you a question." I wasn't playing around.

"My name is YN and I got lost in the forest. I found this stream and decided to see where it takes me."

"You better not be lying to me." I gruffly said.

"I'm not. I swear I got lost and I was always told to find a stream as I can follow it." One hard stare at her and I knew she was telling the truth.

"Well, you can go now," I said as I lowed my gun.

"Please Sir," I snorted at that. No one calls me Sir.

"I am lost and I need shelter."

"I don't take in strays," I said as I walked past her.

"I don't have much money, but I can cook and clean Sir. It will only be for a short while." I stopped walking and turned to look at the strange woman.

I took in that her dress is ripped and extremely dirty, but she was clutching a pouch to her chest.

I knew I didn't have enough food to feed her but a few days can't hurt, can it?

She tried to leave only after two days but I realised I have missed the human company that I only get in the colder months, where I work as a Lumberjack.

Her eyes seemed to light up when I mentioned I would be leaving soon. "May I come with you?"

"I am sorry YN, but where I will be going is no place for a woman such as yourself."

"But I can not stay here, alone."

"You won't be. I will show you the way to the next town and we will part ways."

"Thank you, Dustin," and we went back to eating the soup YN made.

A few days turned into a few weeks and we had a routine of sorts. I got up and tended to my small parcel of land and YN took care of inside the cabin and even did laundry.

But I started to notice odd things about her, whenever there was a strange noise, she would stop and stare until the noise went away. If I mention running into any other people when I go deeper into the woods, a scared look comes over her face.

I also noticed she refused to leave and go give herself a proper cleaning, even though I showed her where she could go.

I got sick of it and decided to confront her about it. "YN, I am going to be blunt here, you need to go and have a bath and I mean a proper bath, not this whores bath you keep giving yourself."

She was fighting an inner battle with herself and she finally sighed and looked down at her hands that were on her lap. "I haven't been perfectly honest with you. I ran away from home."

"And what would make you do a silly thing like that?"

"My father promised my hand to some man, who is a cruel man to his wives. I would have been his third one. The other two died and I just know he will kill me."

"May I ask what this has to do with bathing?"

"I don't want to be alone because if he finds me, I have no idea what he will do to me."

"Why didn't you ask me YN?"

"And have a man who I have not married see me naked? I rolled my eyes at that.

"I will not stare and have my back turn as you get undressed."

"Okay, but may I borrow one of your shirts to walk back in as I will wash my clothes there as well."

I felt my cock twitch at the thought of her wearing my shirt. I didn't speak as I nodded my head yes.

The very next day, as the sun was right over us, I found myself with my back turned as YN stripped herself of her clothes.

I heard a slight yelp as she descended into the cool water. I turned myself around, feigning concern that she may have hurt herself. I hid my disappointment as I noticed she was fully submerged in the water.

"Sorry, I am used to my baths being warm."

"Well, I am sorry YN, that is not going to happen out here." I took a step back as I didn't want to fall into the water, but just as my luck would have it, I found a very muddy spot and fell flat on my back and landed in what I am hoping is just smelly mud.

"Dustin, are you okay?"

"Yup," I said as I was still laying on the ground.

"Are you sure? You aren't moving." The concern in her voice went straight to my heart.

"I will need to wash now and I am waiting for you to finish." A small "oh," was all I heard. I felt bad that I may have to rush her now.

"You can come in, I will turn around."

"I don't think that is a good idea YN." I tried to contain the groan that threatened to leave my chest at the thought of being so close to her naked.

"Please Dustin," I lifted my head and looked at her. I saw that her arms were on the side and her head was resting on her crossed arms. I placed my head back on the ground, trying to calm myself down. "The water will make you feel better." She said softly to me. I knew she was right and let out a happy laugh when I stood. I started to take off my clothes and I watched as her eyes widened, she slapped her hand over her eyes and turned around.

"Could of warned me, Dustin." She said as I walked into the water, shivering at the coolness of it. "And what fun would that have been for me?" I laughed.

"Are you sure you are a Lumberjack?" My laughter stopped.

"Yes, I am. Why you asking?"

YN'S POV:

When I saw him stripping, I wanted to watch, but all I heard in my head was my Mother screaming at me about looking at a man naked. I could feel him as he got in the water, his body heat making the water feel already better.

"Are you sure you are a Lumberjack? His laughter stopped.

"Yes, I am. Why you asking?"

"With the way how you fell there, I guess I have to worry about you coming back hurt." I didn't notice how his body tensed when I said about him coming back.

I was expecting some type of retort. Some snide comments, but all I got was a big splash to the face. I sputtered and gasped for air as I pushed my hair away from my face. I started to splash him back and he was laughing so hard, he was snorting.

"Okay, that is enough YN." He tried to say but I paid him no mind. I splashed him two more times until I felt his hands wrap around my wrists and pull me flush against his body.

"I said that is enough YN." His voice started as loud and then by the time he said my name, his voice was soft, noticed how close we were. He let go of my wrists and he went to give us some space when I wrapped my arms around his neck and smashed my lips against his.

His hands went around me and gripped my thighs and wrapped them around his waist, never once stopping our kissing.

I gasped against his mouth when I felt him poking me. He took that as a sign to start kissing down my neck and leaving his mark.

The sound of an animal brought us back to reality. I pulled away from him and swam to the other side. "YN I am,"

"We shouldn't be out here much longer. I have to prepare dinner and give you lunch." I said as I grabbed the spare shirt he brought for me.

I didn't turn around, even though I wanted to when I heard him get out. Our walk back to the cabin was quiet. The only sounds came from the forest.

Dinner was a quiet affair. I ate by myself as he at outside. I wanted to cry as I know I have messed this all up and I have no idea how to fix this.

The door opened and there he was, having to duck slightly just to get into his open cabin.

"Dustin, can we talk?"

"I have to head to town to grab some little minute supplies. I think it may be best if you come with me and we part ways. My heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces.

"Oh, okay. Yeah." I turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears as they stream down my face.

Dustin was out cold as I closed the door quietly behind me. I looked back when I was far enough and said goodbye.

I walked in the direction that Dustin told me was where the town was. I walked until I saw the first hint of civilization and I tried to push the man who I have come to grow to love to the back of my mind.

I didn't stay very long in that town until I worked my way to the next one. More of a village and just the place I was looking for. I found work as a barmaid at the local tavern. Not glamorous, but I had an income and a roof over my head.

The married couple who owned it were very kind and didn't need help, but they saw that I was desperate and needed the help. I do whatever I can to help them out.

But the tavern seems to get more and more business these days and I asked Olivia, who owned the tavern with her husband Simon.

"The Lumberjacks are making their way through. Their camp isn't far from here." We were interrupted by a group of men who came in, looking for food and a drink. I quickly got to work, trying to push the image of Dustin out of my mind and how he kissed me that day.

I waited week after week for him to come by just like they all did. I almost gave up hope until I finally heard his laugh.

My head snapped up when I heard him laugh as he walked through the door, my heart rate speeding up at finally seeing him. Not knowing how he will handle seeing me after I left him the way how I did.

CHUCK TAYLOR'S POV:

I was talking to James and laughing at something he said as we walked into the tavern. Just glad to be around people again.

"You are being watched, Dustin," James warned me. I looked in the direction he was and I was stunned at the woman who was looking back at me.

No, it couldn't be.

I figured she would have gotten as far away as possible. When I realised she was gone the next morning, I went searching for her, afraid that she got lost or worse, but I couldn't find her.

I figured she left so we didn't have to say goodbye as I told her we were parting ways. I knew I had to get her away from me. I wouldn't be a good match for her. Not when she grew up better than I did. She was smart and did not need me to ruin her life.

"I'll be right back." I gulped down my drink and stood to walk towards YN who was standing behind the bar.

"We need to talk Dustin," She said when I got close enough to her.

"Yes, we do."

"But not know, after we are closed up."

"I will be waiting." I winked at her and went back to my seat, my friends asked me about her, but I just told them she was an old friend.

The night continued and everyone else got drunk except for me. I needed to be as sober as possible to talk to YN.

I could see different men hitting on her but Olivia or Simon were always right there, telling the guys to back off and if they dared to argue, they were thrown out.

The night came too close and Simon came over to our table to say that they were closed. "You all have to leave, except for you," He pointed at me.

"I'll see you later," I told them as they left the tavern, very happy with beer and food in their bellies. Now they were probably off to find the local whore house.

"Dustin, I am done. Follow me, if you still want to talk." YN called out and I stood up so fast, the chair tipped backwards.

I followed YN up two flights of stairs to the attic. "Simon and Olivia let me stay here." She said as she lit a few candles.

Being so close to her after all this time, was making it hard on my self-control. I took a few steps forward as I saw her shivering in the candlelight. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against me.

"I missed you, Dustin," Now it was my turn to shiver when I heard her say my name.

"You left me," I finally said.

"You told me we were gonna part ways and I don't do well with goodbyes. You know you were my first kiss, the first one to touch me the way how you did," YN said as she pulled away from me and turned around to look at me.

"I know and I should not be the one to take anything more from you."

"And you get to decide that? I wanted you, Dustin. I still do. I dream of you night after night. I dream of you when I pleasure myself."

My mind went numb when she said that. All I got were flashes of YN, her hand between her thighs, moaning my name.

I found myself almost growling as I crashed my lips against hers, lifting her up by her ass and her wrapping her legs around me.

"I need you, Dustin." She whimpered against my lips. "I got you YN," I said to her as I gently placed her on the bed, her legs hanging off the edge as I got down on my knees. I reached up and practically ripped her dress from her body and her gasp went straight to my cock.

Seeing her all laid out for me and only me, made me almost feral. I parted her thighs and licked my lips at how wet she was for me.

"Eyes on me YN," I said to her just before I licked her, getting a taste of her. "Aa Dustin," She whined as her hands gripped the back of my head. I started to eat her out like she is my last meal. Her moans and whines making me go crazy and all I wanted was to slam my cock into her, but I couldn't.

I pushed one finger inside of her and I felt her body get tense. "Relax, I have to stretch you out."

YN'S POV:

I did as he asked and I covered my mouth to stop the loud groan from being heard as he started to move his thick finger back and forth.

"Don't you do that YN. Do not quiet yourself. I want, no need to hear you. You understand that?"

I was going to answer but he pushed another finger inside of me and a loud drawn-out moan was all I could manage.

"Just like that YN. Taking my fingers so well," Was all Dustin said before he went back to fingering and eating me out.

I can feel myself getting close. I am crying out his name and just as I was about to cum, he pulled away. I cried out in frustration and glared at him through the tears.

"I need to feel you cum around my cock YN," He said as he stood and took off his clothes. My mouth let out little puffs of air as I saw more and more skin. My eyes trailed down his body until they finally landed on his cock. My eyes widened and I actually gulped.

I watched as he stroked himself a few times and I wanted to taste the liquid that was coming out of the tip. It was like he could read my thoughts as he chuckled as he got into the bed.

"I will teach you to suck my cock another time," He told me as he situated himself against my pillows and the wall.

"Come here YN," He gripped my arms and pulled me into his lap, the both of us moaning as his cock rubbed against my pussy. He gripped my chin in his hand, softly and kissed me. I melted into the kiss, not believing that this giant of a man could be so gentle.

"I need you, Dustin, please," I told him. Not knowing what else I should be doing and letting him take the lead.

"I'll take care of you YN," He said as he rolled us over so he was looking down at me. I watched everything he did. He gripped his cock in his hand and rubbed the tip against my pussy, getting it nice and went.

"Now this may hurt YN, use me if it becomes too much," Dustin said to me just as he slid the head of his cock inside of me. My whole body felt like it was on fire and he slowly sunk into me. I dug my nails into his shoulders and he groaned when I broke the skin. My eyes were squeezed shut, my mouth open as am gulping in some air.

"Are you in?" I asked, stupidly.

"I am barely halfway. Do you want to stop?" I shook my head no. "Then relax, and let me take care of you."

I opened my eyes and looked into his. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his arms were straining and I know he was holding himself back from slamming into me.

Going this slow wasn't helping me relax, so I placed my feet on his butt and pulled him closer to me, making him slam into me.

I cried out in pain, his eyes wide as he realised what the hell I just did. He went to move back but I begged him not to move.

I have no idea how long we stayed in this position, but then the pain went away and I told him it was okay.

He started with a few, shallow thrusts and once I moaned out I was fine, his pace quickened. The bed was slamming into the wall at how hard he was fucking me into the mattress.

He leaned back on his feet and he brought my body up against his chest, hitting me at a different angle, deeper if possible.

I pushed him away from me as I wanted to try another position, that I have seen many people do since working here.

He watched as I got on my hands and knees and he groaned as he ran his hands over my ass and slapped it a few times. I have no idea why he did that, but it made my pussy clench around nothing.

"My naughty girl," Dustin moaned as he sunk back into my pussy. I almost screamed at this new angle. "So deep, so full, feels like your in my stomach." I cried out as he gripped my hips and fucked me harder and faster.

"So tight, so perfect. All for me and no one else. You're mine YN." Dustin cried out as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me back against his chest. His other hand reached down and played with my clit.

"Oh I can feel you getting close. That's it squeeze my cock love. Fuck me." He groaned in my ear and I lost it.

I screamed out his name as I came, clenching his cock as my body shook from my first orgasm brought on by someone else that wasn't my fingers.

I turned my head and he kissed me hard as he groaned against my mouth as he came in me. His grip on me got tighter as he fucked me through his own orgasm.

He pulled out of me and I groaned as our combined juices started to drip down my thighs. The two of us went to sleep now long after that.

CHUCK TAYLOR'S POV:

I was having a wonderful dream. YN was there and she was sucking my cock. It felt so real I didn't want to wake up.

"Dustin, come on love, wake up." I looked down at YN, wondering how she can talk with my cock in her mouth when I heard it again.

I sat up, looking around and then I felt something warm and wet on my cock. I looked down and there was YN, with her mouth stretched as far as it could go, her hands jerking off the part that she can't take in her mouth.

"This must be a dream." I groaned as I closed my eyes, not wanting to wake up from this dream. She moaned around my cock and that made my eyes open.

"Am I doing okay?" She looked up at me, her mouth covered in spit. "So well YN, soon you will take me completely down your throat," She smiled and went back to bobbing her head, trying to take another inch down her throat.

I have no idea how long she was sucking me off that first morning, but I came rather quickly. My poor YN choked on my cock as I came, but she tried to swallow as much as she could.

I ate her out, not wanting to leave her unsatisfied before I had to leave to head back to camp to start another week. I wanted to fuck her again, but I knew I had to give her body some time to heal before I take her again and again.

I made sure to stay behind every Saturday night as YN and the tavern owners closed up. They never said a word as they watched the two of us go upstairs to the attic.

The first time I was back, I barely got my clothes off and YN had pushed me onto my back, pulled my pants down and sank on my cock.

This went on for weeks, every Saturday, the men and I would go to the Tavern and since we had Sundays off, instead of going to church like they wanted us to, I was praising YN as she finally learned to take me all the way down her throat and let me fuck her face.

I watched as she took control, bouncing on my cock, her hands gripping my shoulders, her head flung back as she got herself off using my body.

She looked like an angel as she came, quivering above me and rode me through her orgasm. She collapsed against my chest and I planted my feet on the mattress and pounded up into her, her screaming into my chest as I came with a deep groan.

This was going great until the owner of the camp and my boss came to see how things were going.

"So you see Mr Hager, we are ahead of schedule," James said to Hager Senior. His son was standing not far from him, looking bored as he looked around.

"Good, good. Now I know you men go to the Tavern on Saturday nights, how about a drink on me?" The owner was a good man, but his son was a downright idiot when it came to business and even his old man knows this. That is why he hasn't passed it down to him yet. He knows his son will run all his business into the ground.

The men made it to Tavern, just like we did every week and my eyes tried to find YN, who was usually smiling at me as I walked in, but there was no YN to be found.

Olivia waved me over and told me that YN was running an errand but will be back later. I thanked her and went and joined the men and sipped my drink as I waited for YN to return.

YN returned a few hours later and she smiled when she saw me and waved me over. I got up and ignored the smirks from the guys around me.

"Olivia said you had to run an errand."

"Well, yes I guess it was but I was seeing the midwife," I instantly became concerned.

"Is everything okay?" I asked her as we walked away towards the back.

"I haven't bled in a few months and Olivia said I may be with child, so I went to the midwife and well, I am pregnant Dustin."

The last four words kept repeating in my head.

"We are going to have a baby?" She nodded her head and I turned and looked at everyone who was in the room.

"I am going to be a Father!" I exclaimed. I turned back to YN and lifted her in my arms and kissed her. The celebration ended just as quickly as it started. A drunken voice spoke up.

"So this is where you ran off to? To be a whore for some lumberjack?" Came the voice of Hager junior, Jacob, or as he was known, Jake.

"And I see you must have been the man who she was supposed to marry," it wasn't a question as it was a fact.

I placed YN back on the ground and Olivia quickly came and got her and took her away. Simon stood by, ready to put a stop to any alteration that may happen.

"Now son, you sit down," but Jake ignore his Father as he wobbled over to me. "So was she good? I bet she was. I knew she was a virgin before she got to you," his speech was slurred.

"Sir, if Son doesn't back away, I will be punching him," I called out to his Father, who tried to get his son to back down once more. But he gave up and as he walked away, I thought I heard him mutter that it was about time someone hit his son.

"I spent months looking for that bitch," He didn't get to finish his sentence as my fist connected with his nose. He stumbled back, crying out in pain as his nose bled. Jake came charging at me and I punched him in the stomach, as he fell to his knees in pain as he clutched his stomach.

"That one was for your other two wives."

I took my seat and placed my hand in the cold beer, trying to soothe the pain. His Father was looking at me.

"Am I fired Sir?" Already mentally preparing myself to go and pack.

"No, but a week with no pay sounds fair." I didn't argue, as I was still stunned I had a job.

I got up and walked past the Father and son, as the elder was telling the younger one that he was disowned and has brought enough shame to the family.

I found YN in the back, with Olivia who was ready to fight whomever came through that door but calmed down when she saw it was me.

"I'll be right out there if you need me," She said as she walked past me.

"So a baby huh? Looks like we should get married YN," I said to her as I knelt next to her.

"I believe we should," She smiled as I placed my hand on her stomach. "Next Sunday after church. We will wed and then when the spring rolls around, we will head home to the cabin and I will add to it."

"You are serious about this Dustin?"

"Extremely. When you left the first time, I knew I loved you then. I fell for the stranger who I met all those months ago when I was just out hunting. I love you, YN"

"And I love you too, Dustin. My saver, my Lumberjack."

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @crowleysqueenofhell @legit9thlunaticwarrior @malakaiblacksgirl1989 @nicoleveno14 @blaquekittycat @1rsolideranna

#aew #all elite wrestling #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #chuck taylor x reader smut #chuck taylor x reader #chuck taylor imagine #chuck taylor fic #chuck taylor fanfiction #chuck taylor Alternate Universe #alternate universe #chuck taylor x female reader smut #chuck taylor x female reader #chuck taylor x f!reader #wrestler imagine #wrestler x reader #wrestler x reader smut #wrestler x female reader

31 notes · View notes

away-ward · 2 years

Text

See You Around

3.9k words on the first time Emory meets Will. Emory's POV. Notes at the end.

Emory would be about 13, and Will 14. I'm horrible at math, but I think since Will said he saw her during the summer when he was 14 and his birthday is in May, he would be starting his sophormore year at that age.

Usual disclaimers: This is all for fun. I can't write like Penelope Douglas. Emory won't sound the same, but I try. Thank you for giving it a shot.

Emory

I shifted on my feet, double checking the number on my printed schedule with the number on the locker. The excited voices of Thunder Bay Prep’s student body hollered all around the hall. Spinning to the last number on the dial, the door gave easily and I stepped closer, sticking my head inside. I didn’t have anything to put in the locker yet, but I use the metal walls to block the world.

For just a minute.

My heart was still in my throat. Had been since Martin dropped me off at the curb out front. Everybody stared at the squad car and then at me. As if I needed anything else to separate me from them. Not only am I new and poor, my brother’s a cop and my guardian. And everybody knows. My social life was DEA before I even stepped foot on the premises.

Which was fine. Thunder Bay Prep was my ticket out of town, not up the social ladder. The public school I would have gone to had crap extracurriculars, and I had every intention of taking advantage of what was offered, especially if it kept me out of the house for any length of time.

I rested my head against the cool blue locker, breathing in the smell of disinfectant. They must have just had the school cleaned for the first day. I tried to let that distract me, because I knew that it wasn’t just the judging glances from the other kids that had me wound tight. It was Martin. He wanted something from me.

I said 'thank you' for the ride, and told him to have a good day, but there was something else he wanted me to say and I failed. I failed and I knew he wouldn’t let it go. His disappointment with me would simmer in him all day until he got home and then nothing I said would matter.

My throat tightened again. Words and speaking up were still difficult. Martin didn’t like it when I stopped talking after our parent’s deaths. But nothing I said now was right either.

The locker door next to me opened and a girl started unloading her designer purse into the space. She was mid-conversation with her friend and I turned into my locker even more in an effort to be invisible. They ignored me anyway. From the sound of the voices, they weren’t freshman like me, though the way some of those kids looked and acted, it was hard to tell.

I peeked, just to get an idea of what I’d be dealing with. It confirmed my suspicions. The girl closest to me had thick, dark waves that reached midback, while the other had hair of spun gold, layered and highlighted. Both were tan – the natural kind, from weeks laying at the beach.

They wore the newest version of the uniform, the pattern on the skirt slightly different from the second-hand one Martin acquired from a recent graduate. It was too large for me and I had to safety-pin it so it wouldn’t fall form my underdeveloped hips. It still fell passed my knees, and the too large shirt hung off my boney shoulders.

Comparatively, their uniforms seemed almost too small. The shirts clung to the swell of their chests, and the skirts were rolled to midthigh, a lot shorter than what I thought was mandatory.

Seniors, if I had to guess.

A third girl approached, and amid hugs and squeals, I gathered it had been a while since they’d seen each other. Questions of vacations and trips followed. The newest girl showed off her diamond bracelet, a gift from ‘daddy,’ but the way she said it left room for interpretation of who exactly ‘daddy’ could be.

My eyes followed the bracelet on her thin wrist, barely processing what they were saying. She asked about their summers and when the two girls paused briefly before erupting into giggles, she stepped closer and asked again more eagerly.

The blonde broke first. “Maisie slept with Michael Crist at the end of summer party last weekend!”

“What?” The newest girl gasped. She has dark hair too, but lighter than the other, and eyes the color of a clear summer sky. They widen with surprise at Maisie.

“Oh, please. Don’t looked so shocked. You haven’t seen them since you’ve been back.”

Her friend didn’t look mad, only disgusted. “Since when to do we sleep with freshman. They’re practically babies.”

“Sophomores now,” Maisie insisted. Then she leaned in closer to her friends. “But trust me, there’s nothing soft about him.”

I frowned as they laughed. Gross. I’m officially uninterested.

“He can’t be more than 13,” the third girl continued. She looked half between a grimace and a smile.

“He just turned 15, actually.”

“Still. You’re kidding right? You’re panting over a 15-year-old boy. Where’s the challenge?”

“One, no one is panting here. Two, wait until you see them. Then you might not be so judgy.”

The bracelet girl shared a look with the blonde, but she only nodded to confirm Maisie’s words.

“Worth enough to commit a crime over?”

“Who’s going to tell? Him? Please.”

“Nothing stays a secret in Thunder Bay. You know that. It’ll all come out eventually.”

I heard Maisie close her locker. “Besides, I heard from Rebecca that she had a bit of fun with Damon Torrance…and then Will Grayson.” She laughed like it’s a big scandal. “Clearly, they’re not holding out for anyone. Those boys are ready to play.”

The girl shook her head in disbelief, then paused, seeming interested. “Wait. Like, at the same time, or…”

That was when I decided I needed to get out of there.

I tried to discreetly shut my locker and move in the opposite direction, giving one last look over my shoulder. I just…wanted to see them. To see these girls who cared about nothing but having a good time, as disturbing as their conversation was.

My movement caught the attention of Bracelet Girl and we made eye contact. She arched a brow, blue eyes hardening as I tried to duck away.

“What are you looking at?”

My throat pinched again, closing around my breath. My large glasses slipped down my nose and I freed one hand from it’s death grip on the strap across my chest to push them back up. “Nothing,” I finally push out in one breath. I waited, immobilized under their glares.

The blonde squinted her eyes at me. “Wait, I know who this is. Her brother’s that cop that shut down our parties all summer.”

Their eyes scanned me from head to toe and back up, taking in what I already knew they’d see. Sloppy uniform, scuffed shoes, stick-thin body. New and Poor and Snitch. I breathed in sharply. Please, don’t let that be what I’m known for.

Maisie stepped closer, crowding me against the lockers.

“I – “ I broke off. I, what? I’m not going to tell. Because that wouldn’t have been suspicious as hell.

“Here’s a tip if you want to stick around: look down,” Maisie advised. “Don’t make eye contact with those who are superior to you.”

That close up, I didn’t need my glasses to see the details of her face. I could see her hostility just fine over the thick, black rims. She waited for me to give in. I did, almost immediately, with Martin’s last warning look flashing in my head.

I flinched and dropped my gaze to the floor, like the coward I am.

Laughter broke out among them. I glared at my feet, already anticipating what the next year would bring with her as my neighbor. Like with Martin, I’d have to start timing my day so that we never crossed paths if I could help it.

“Maisie,” the blonde said, new excitement ringing in her voice. “Look.”

I felt the shift in the atmosphere. Maybe it was the way Maisie seemed to stand it bit taller, her chest jutting out just a bit more, or the way the hall seemed to hush. Something changed. The air became charged. Beyond my control, I lifted my head to look for the source and my attention was hooked by them.

A group of boys dominated the hall, heading in our direction. They were various ages, some taller than others, but four stood out the most, as if they had a gravitational pull that affected all of us. It was weird to see, because it was clear that they weren’t the oldest or the biggest. They still had round faces compared to the older, bigger boys – men, really, for all intents and purposes. Hierarchy should dictate they were at the bottom, yet somehow everything moved around them.

“Hi, Michael,” Maisie called as the lot passed by.

One boy glanced and barely gave her a nod, a single tilt of his head downward. Hardly an acknowledgment if I’d ever seen one. It looked like he could have been agreeing to whatever his friend was saying, except the friend also spared her a flick of his dark eyes before turning back to Michael.

Ouch. I almost felt bad for her. If I hadn't also found it slightly funny.

Another with darker hair and eyes of black made a show of skimming her form. His fingers came to his lips, playing with the full bottom one as he smirked at her desperation. Maisie gave him a coy smile and his tongue ran the edge of his teeth. He reminded me of a shark.

Ugh. I was disgusted by both of them.

Then my world was made of green.

Verdant. Viridian. Malachite. Lush, rich, green.

So green, like the leaves of an oak tree in the middle of summer, when you sit under its shade and drown in the color.

Attached to the green eyes that pinned me was a roundish tan face, and chocolate brown hair, purposefully gelled to look messy in that style I hated. He rotated fully as he passed, walking backward to keeping me in his sight. His eyes never deviated from mine. I know that because I couldn’t tear myself away either.

Then, his eyes dipped slowly. They danced with light and humor as his gaze wandered down.

And for a moment, my chest hurt. I knew what he saw.

New and poor and weak.

And standing next to Maisie and her friends, I was aware of what my thirteen-year-old body must look like. His roving gaze lingered somewhere below my eyes before coming back up. He bit his lip, the tip of which curved upwards in beginnings of a broad smile. He looked like he smiled easily.

Still, despite myself, my heart thumped. Was it embarrassment? Shame? I’d felt those before, but this didn’t match. It wasn’t familiar.

His dark-haired friend threw an arm around his neck, dragging him along to keep up with the group as it turned the corner at the end of the hall. Life followed them, and when they were all gone, the hall felt dead, like a light had gone out and none of us were breathing.

The hall started moving again, life returning. Maisie’s head snapped back around and she zeroed in on me. Martin had already taught me what came after that. Instead of sticking around for it, I attempted an escape.

I didn’t get far. Maisie grabbed the collar of my navy blazer, yanking me so hard my back hit the locker and I bit down on the cry that came up. It shouldn’t have hurt that much. Once the pain reached it’s peak and started to come down, I opened one eye and then the other.

Maisie didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The look she gave me said it all.

Message received.

Not that she had anything to worry about.

She left first, the blonde followed, but the girl with the bracelet stayed. I watched her warily, waiting for her attack. She held her large black binder to her chest, and unlike her friends with their designer purses, she made the sensible choice of a Jansport.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” she started softly but firm, “but boys like that will never be serious with a girl like you, and you’ll only end up worse for it. Do you understand?”

It’s not what I expected to hear and I think my surprise showed. My mouth dropped open, but I didn't answer. Wasn’t it obvious?

“I’m not trying to be mean. It’s only the truth.”

“Don’t worry,” I manage to say, squeezing the strap of my bag. “I’m not here to steal anyone's future sugar daddy.”

“That’s not what –“ She broke off, eyes hard again. Dipping her head, she sighed. “Never mind. Figure it out yourself. Hope it hurts."

By the end of the second week, I’d figured out my schedule so that I was gone before Martin could give me a ride and I barely saw Maisie and her friends. My favorite times of the day were before school and after school, when the building was mostly empty and I didn’t feel eyes following me. Judging me.

I stopped at my locker to get the books I needed for the weekend. My plan was going well enough. Band would take up Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Fridays would be game days as soon as the season started. I planned on trying out for the swim team, and that would take up Mondays and Wednesdays. I’d figure out something for the weekends. With any luck, I’d rarely be home except when I absolutely needed to be. For Grand-mere. I missed her already.

The air in the empty hall shifted in a way that had become all too familiar. The skin on the back of my neck prickled with heat and I flipped around, fusing my back to the wall of lockers now behind me.

“Hi,” William Grayson smiled. Full lips framing perfect, straight white teeth.

Up close, it was more than obvious he was rich. He had wealth written all over his features. One day, he’d grow from boyishly cute to big and handsome. With broad shoulders already, he was getting there. Still, there was a touch of softness to his face that kept him from being ‘hot’ just yet.

It wasn’t hard to learn his name. It seemed to be on the lips of nearly everyone at school. Youngest son of one of the richest families in the country, no wonder Maisie and her friends felt territorial. I agreed – I shouldn’t even be allowed to walk the same halls as their kind. And even though they were only sophomores, his group of friends stood out, small as the student body was. They just...vibrated on a different plane than everyone else.

And again, I got caught in his eyes. Twin pools that drew me in with how they dance with life. A life of pleasure and freedom, without pain. That’s him. I kinda hate him for it.

I was half-convinced I was going crazy.

“There’s a party out at the warehouse tonight. A sort of welcome back bash thing.”

I’d heard about it, but not directly. News of the cop’s sister traveled fast. On top of that, freshmen usually didn’t get invited to those types of parties. Too risky for teens who just want to drink and have other kinds of fun.

At that moment, I was more concerned with why he was standing so close and stepping even closer.

“Are you going?”

“No.” I answer firmly, swiftly.

I didn’t expect that to be the end of it. He didn’t seem to be the type to give up, so to send an even clearer message, I slammed my locker closed and attempted to move around him.

He moved with me.

“I can pick up you. That’s no problem.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you fourteen?”

His devilish smile widened and I cursed myself for being so obvious. “Don’t worry about it. You in?”

“My answer is still no.”

“It'd be dope if you came.”

Seriously? Dope? Kill me. What's his angle? “Let’s see,” I tapped my finger to my chin, “going to an abandoned warehouse with a stranger and his buddies? Sounds like a invitation that only stupid girls would fall for.” I looked him dead straight in his laughing green eyes. “Go find someone else to live out your horror movie fantasies.”

He stuck out his hand. The tips of his fingers brush the front of my shirt because he was standing so close. “William Aaron Paine Grayson III.”

I froze, completely dumbfounded by his response.

I wasn’t kidding earlier. Literally everyone knew his name.

He leaned in as if to whisper a secret. “If you shake my hand and then say your name, we won’t be strangers anymore. We’ll be friends.”

I took a deep breath to bolster myself against the onslaught of his scent. “You know who my brother is?”

“All I'm hearing is that you have access to handcuffs.” His eyes shined. “Wow, this is quick, but I’m down. Didn't know you'd be so kinky. Guess I should've. It's always the quiet ones.”

I involuntary rolled my eyes and bite my inner lip out of frustration. His gazes dips like that first time and then it darkens, narrowing. His throat works with a swallow. My whole body buzzed in response. What was that about?

Shaking out of my thoughts, I tried a second time to get around him. He blocked me once again.

I dart to the left, and he's right in front of me, pushing me back.

“I’m on the basketball team. I can do this all afternoon.”

I ground my teeth and glared. “I know this is new for you, but leave. Me. Alone.”

“Come on,” he laughed lowly, stepping even closer and crowding me. “Just tell me your name.”

“I don’t need to.” I half-shouted in the empty hall. My eyes darted around him, looking for an exit.

“Emory.”

I stood, shocked and frozen in place. Even breathing was a struggle while blood rushed through my ears. But it wasn’t the same panic I felt when I heard Martin pull up. This was different. He said my name so softly, it was almost a pleasant whisper.

A caress.

He said it again, his voice deeper than before. “Emory Sophia Scott.”

People often got my name wrong, replacing the ‘O’ with an ‘E.’ It’s a small difference, but wrong nonetheless. However, my name rolled off of Will’s tongue as if he’d been practicing it.

“Would that have been so hard to say? It’s a beautiful name.” His hand came up and brushed the jacket of my oversized uniform, finding one of the loose buttons to play with. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

Beautiful name for a –

I scoffed.

No.

Hell no. I can’t believe him.

He somehow found the space to step even closer - seriously, how is there still space left. Any closer and I'd have been breathing in him. I back up as much as I could, causing the dial of my locker jutted into the exact center of a bruise and I gasped. But I couldn’t tell if it was from the pain this time.

“I’d really like to take you to that party tonight.” His tone had shifted, and though he was still smiling, I got the feeling he wasn't playing anymore. He seriously wanted me to go for some reason.

But I've seen Carrie. That's not happening here.

When I didn’t say anything, he slid his hand under the strap of my bag and lifts it over my head, taking it with him when he stepped away. Another step back, and then another. Before long, he was down the hall, walking away from me while keeping me locked in his sight.

With my bag.

I launched away from the lockers. “Give it back!”

“You want it?” He held it out of my reach with his superior height. “Come to the party. You’ll get it afterwards.”

“I can’t go.” I made a dive for it as he swings it around to his other hand. My fingers swept the fabric but clenched around air.

He spun out of the way, turning around me so that for a moment he was at my back. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.” I growled when I saw that he’d opened it and was pulling out my class binder. “Stop going through my stuff.”

He looks up gleefully. “You’re in band? That’s so cute. I can already see you in that little hat. It’ll go great with your glasses.”

So now he was openly making fun of me. Thanks for making it so clear.

“It’s great too, because you’ll be there to play the fight song for all of my games.”

“I’ll never play for you.” I jabbed and darted for the binder, but he effortlessly dodged my every attempted. Not only did he have height on me, but natural athleticism. Basically everything I lacked in spades.

“How many AP classes are you taking? Don’t you want to have a life,” he asked, going through my schedule.

If only he knew.

“Swim team, huh?” He stopped and eyed me up and down again, as if seeing me for the first time. Maybe picturing in a swim suit, even if the school’s team uniform was modest. “Maybe I should come to some of your meets. Would you like that?”

“Don’t bother.”

He shrugged dismissively. “I’ll already be there. Kai’s thinking of joining the swim team in the off season. Although, I have to admit I’m a lot more excited to see you than him.”

“Wrong choice. He’s prettier.” And he was. Kai Mori was something else.

Will smirks and nods. “Oh, he’s hot, for sure. But we’ll have to disagree on that.” There was an undercurrent to his words; something left unspoken that I couldn’t figure out.

I stared, breathing heavily from the exertion. He hadn’t broken a sweat.

“Fine,” Will said. “You can’t come to the party. Maybe another time. I’m still holding this until Monday unless you find me sooner and make me give it back.”

He just doesn't get it. I rushed up to him, getting in his face, bag forgotten. He didn't back up on my approach. In fact, he leaned in, his facing lighting up I grew near. It filled me with venom.

“Correction: I don’t want to go to the party. I’ll never want to go anywhere with you. I don’t want you talking to me or coming to my swim meets or looking for me in the stands during games. I don’t want to know you, and I don’t want to be friends. That will never happen. So go find some other girl to play with.”

I glared in spite and anger. He returned it when a stare of wonderment, like I’m somebody new. Like I’ve transformed in front of him. But I’m still just me. Suddenly, I became aware of how loud I had been. I shouted in his face. The first time in a long time I raised my voice.

For a second, I feared his reaction.

He leaned down. “I’m not trying to be your friend,” he whispered against my lips. “That's just the first step.”

The first step to what?

“Mr. Grayson? Miss Scott?”

We both turned at the sound of his name. My math teacher, Mr. Sorrel, stood at the end of the hall, his eyes darting between us. Will still had my bag over his shoulder, holding my binder in his hands. This doesn’t look good.

Will stepped back. “I was just helping Emmy with a class.”

“You? Helping her?” I heard the doubt dripping from each word and, irrationally, my irritation flared up.

Wait. Emmy? I glared at Will. Who gave him the right?

Mr. Sorrel didn't buy it for a second, but he sighed anyway, giving Will a regretful, tired look. “Give Miss Scott back her things and be on your way, Mr. Grayson.”

I blinked. Be on your way? That’s it?

Staring at Mr. Sorrel, Will took his time putting the binder back in my bag and closing it. Then, he held my bag out to me, dangling from one finger. I gripped it with both hands, hugging it too my chest as if it would protect me from his inspection.

He lingered longer than necessary, causing the teacher to prompt him again, that time with more force. Will rolled his eyes. Stuffing his hands in his slacks, he stepped up to me and then around.

As he went, he leaned down so that his lips brushed my ears. “See you around,” he said, his voice warm and delighted, “Emmy.”

I hugged my bag even tighter. Unable to stop myself, an exhilarating feeling surged through me. He wants to see me again. Maybe I misjudged him. It couldn't happen because Martin would have my head, but it was a nice thought.

My heart and stomach plummet at the thought of Martin, and all good feelings disappeared into the void too. There's no way a boy like Will Grayson would want anything to do with me. Not when Martin is around to ruin the fun. It had to be a trick after all; a plan he and his friends came up with.

Will’s words echoed in my mind as I walked out of the school alone. The kindness I thought I heard morphed into something else. Something dark and threatening.

See you around.

Emmy.

----

So...the response to my other willemmy was better than I thought. Thank you! I really apprecaite it. I suspect it's mostly a lack of other fics, but I'm still happy to see every like and reblog.

This one came about because I really just wanted to see their first meeting, and I'm kind sad we never got it. We got 3yo Michael holding Rika. We got Damon and Winter in the foutain. And Kai and Banks in the confessional booth.

But for Will and Emory? One line. Admittedly, this is probably the least important of the four, but I still wanted it. So, I headcanon.

I'm interested to know if you you thought about what their first meeting would have been like?

Again, sorry for any mistakes and thank you so much for your time!

Master List

#willemmy #will grayson iii #emory scott #my fic #devil's night series stuff #devil's night series #nightfall #penelope douglas

58 notes · View notes

bluerosejuliet · 1 year

Note

So I'm invested with the Polin Harry Potter AU now lol so what happened at the Hogsmeade? I really want Colin's POV cuz I know the man was FUMING the whole night. And how he put his foot in his mouth (again)

Cue the next few weeks of chaotic Colin running around trying to talk to Pen but gets thwarted at EVERY move by the combined powers of Eloise and the 2nd gen Marauders while James woos his littlle pretty redhead friend.

(BTW Im torn if I wanted this to end up as Poil or Pen x James crap)

Sorry for the late reply, it's been a bit hectic with the end of the year (I teach elementary school plus my mom ended up in the hospital with pneumonia) but here is basically what Colin is thinking during the Yule Ball and the fight that causes the first break in his friendship with Penelope (yes there will be another, much worse one later on).

Here is the link for the first two parts:

And now I present to you Colin Bridgerton, putting his foot spectacularly in his mouth.

When Colin had woken up that been, he'd felt a mixture of excitement and guilt. He was of course excited to see Marina looking no doubt gorgeous as ever in whatever dress robes while also getting a chance to twirl her around the dance floor (and if George Crane happened to be watching all the better!) He'd been in love with Marina Thompson since third year, when she'd offered him a sweet after class. His father had passed away the summer before and he was doing his best not to cry and be strong for his siblings but it was tiring.

Yet Marina, being the sweet and beautiful girl she was, had noticed and offered him the sweet she had been planning on eating.

Colin knew from that moment that she would be woman he would marry one done, his soulmate. His father had fallen in love with his mother during hogwarts after all so it was only natural Colin would find his other half as well.

Of course, their relationship wasn't perfect. Marina's father put a lot of pressure on her to do well while things seemed to come easy to Colin. Marina had plans to make a career for herself while Colin dreamed of traveling the world and researching new creatures. Despite their differences though, Colin felt confident that they balanced each other out.

Yes, he'd been upset when she'd broken up with him and utterly heartbroken when she started dating George Crane not even weeks later. But he could admit that he should have listened to her more and taken her a bit more seriously.

But all that was in the past and once more Marina was in his arms and all was right.

In fact, tonight might turn out to be a most excellent night as Marina kept hinting at slipping away to go to the room of requirement and finally take their relationship to the next level.

Perhaps he was old fashioned but Colin had heard how his father had not slept with anyone before his mother, wanting to only sleep with the woman he would marry. His brothers had of course not followed this path, especially Anthony who he was positive slept with half the girls in his year by the time he graduate. But Colin was a romantic and what could be more romantic than him and Marina giving themselves to each other on the night of the ball.

Of course Colin would have understood if Marina slept with George, he would never shame or judge his soulmate for not thinking the same as him. But Marina had mentioned that she could never take that step with George and she had realized that Colin was the one she wanted to share that part of herself with.

But while he was excited about the events of the night, another part still of his mind was occupied by thought of another girl.

Penelope Feathering, a dear friend of his family and one of his closest friends. They had been friends since Eloise and Penelope met as children and she had been there for both Colin and Eloise during their fathers passing. She'd also been the one to comfort him through his break up with Marina.

While Eloise and his siblings would spit vitriol words or muttered insults under their breath about Marina, Penelope merely listened and never said a cruel work about her. She understood that Colin loved Marina and still held her in high regard, given that they had been friends long before they started dating. It was why he originally asked her to be his date to the Yule ball.

Pen wouldn't try to hit on him or make a snide remark about his ex. She had a great sense of humor and would be wonderful company.

So when Marina had come back to him, by some miracle of fate, and Colin had to let Penelope know his change in plans, she'd of course been her usual sweet and understanding self.

Until she'd overheard his argument with Eloise and had avoided him since.

He knew he'd hurt her, he'd known that the second he met her eyes. But for the love of God he hadn't meant to! He knew Pen probably thought he meant that no one would want to date but he hadn't meant it like that!

She was his dearest friend and he could imagine treating Penelope the way he did Marina. It was unfathomable. It would be like trying to imagine dating his sisters (shudder).

Unfortunately for Colin, he hadn't been able to approach Penelope that whole week with Eloise guarding her religiously. So he'd given up in favor of spending time with Marina who seemed to want to be around far more than before.

But tonight he would find time to slip away to the Ravenclaw dorm and apologize to Pen. He doubted she'd want to attend the ball when Eloise was going with Theo (that itself was another thing that seemed unfathomable, his spitfire sister dating someone!) So he'd make sure to stop by and apologize when Marina was busy with her friends.

Everything had been going splendidly at first.

Marina looked breathtaking in a lovely gold dress that made her look even more beautiful and she'd even surprised him with a kiss that promised more to come.

His friends met him by the entrance the the great hall and they'd started a conversation about quidditch until Richard Fife had stopped mid sentence, eyes widening as he looked at something over Colin's shoulder.

"Is that-Penelope Featherington with James Potter?" he sputtered as Colin looked at him confused before turning around.

The boy coming down the stairs was certainly James Potter, dressed in black dress robes with his dark hair slicked and and mischievous eye which were currently gazing at his smaller red haired companion.

The girl looked similar to Pen with her red hair and short rounded figure. But his Pen didn't wear makeup and always wore her in one or two braids, explaining it was more manageable with her curls and wore baggy sweaters that her mother had bought as she was certain her daughter would only increase in size. And when she wasn't wearing her school uniform, she was always in yellow. She was his adorable Pen.

Which is why the girl coming down the stairs could not have been Pen

The girl coming down the stairs with James looked nothing like Penelope, with her emerald off shoulder dress robes lined with white lace that hugged her waist before poofing out into a floor length skirt. Around her pale neck was a black satin ribbon choker with some pendant hanging off of it. Red curls cascaded over her left shoulder from a bun adorned with tiny white flowers. Her blue eyes were framed by dark curly lashes (mascara her thought) and her cheeks were colored slightly pink as her red painted lips curved into a smile at something James said.

This girl was a lovely creature no doubt and he could see why someone like James Potter would have asked her to be his date but there was no way she was his adorable red haired friend-

"Penelope, James over here!" called Michael Stirling and Colin felt his body stiffen as James placed a hand on Penelope's waist (far to low for his liking!) as he lead Penelope over to the Marauders 2.0 but not before Colin caught the smirk James shot his way.

At some point Marina said something to get his attention and he put on his charming smile as they entered the Great Hall for dinner.

He did his best to pay attention to what his girlfriend and friends were talking about, but his eyes kept wandering to the table across the hall from them. Michael Stirling was waving his hands around and saying something that resulted in the people at his table laughing (except for Theo who looked strangely upset).

It wasn't until the dancing had started with Colin twirling Marina around, when he spotted James giving an overdramatic bow to Penelope as she giggled and followed his lead as he moved them across the floor that Colin's shock melted into fury.

Colin was not known for his temper, Anthony being regarded as the hothead of the family, but it took every fiber of his being to not march across the floor and punch James Potter in his smug little face.

The Marauders were known for their pranks and they had always been pretty tame, considering that no one got hurt but it seemed as if the boys were upping their usual pranks to acts of cruelty.

Colin knew that while he found Penelope to be adorable, many other made fun of her for looks. Unlike the Bridgertons, her family was not the most popular and of her sisters she often found herself the source of the most ridicule. Of course he'd done his best to reprimand his friends when they snidely commented on Penelope (except for Will and Alice who were the kinder members of the group) or changed the subject.

He didn't know why James Potter decided to play around with Penelope's heart but he was putting a stop to it right now!

Colin bided his time, waiting patiently until he finally saw James leave to get a drink leaving Penelope alone for the first time that night.

Murmuring an excuse to Marina, Colin quickly walked over to Penelope and grabbed her hand.

"Colin wha-"

"We need to talk. Now," he said firmly, sounding a bit like Anthony, as he dragged Penelope out of the Great Hall and into an empty corridor nearby. As soon as Colin deemed them far enough way, he let go of Penelope's hand and started pacing.

Penelope let out a huff, crossing her arms, looking a bit irritated with Colin.

"What on earth has gotten into you? You could have just said what you needed to in there. If this is about me being mad at you, I told you I'm fine! You know how Eloise gets though -"

"This isn't about that," interrupted Colin as his eyes were drawn to where Penelope's arms had pushed up her breasts. Merlin when did Pen grow boobs?

Shaking his head, Colin quickly removed his dress robes and wrapped Penelope, feeling more relaxed now that she looked it bit more like herself. Thankfully Penelope didn't try to shake it off, pulling it closer to her instead while shooting him a curious look.

"Okay then why the dramatics?" she asked.

Colin ran a hand through his hair, knowing what he would have say next would no doubt hurt Penelope but better to tell her now than let James continue to lead her on.

"It's about Potter," he said ask Pen titled her head in confusion.

"James?" she asked curiously making Colin frown.

"Yes. Look I'm not saying this to be mean or hurt you but I'd rather you hear it from me then have to face this all later on. I know you think he's a great guy and he's handsome and what not but he's not who you think he is. The Marauders are Hogwarts biggest pranksters and sometimes they take their pranks a little to far. I'm not sure if they realize that people can get hurt but I don't want you to be be hurt by James later on," he said as Penelope's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Prank? Colin I highly doubt James, Fred and Michael will do something like set off fireworks in the Great Hall or turn the dance floor into an ice skating rink. Headmistress McGonagall would have their heads and Phillip would never allow it," she said calmly as Colin sighed in frustration.

"That's not the kind of prank I'm talking about Penelope! I mean pranks like tricking people for fun like turning Cressida Cowper face into a cows or convincing a second year that mermaid like to eat cake or" Colin closed his eyes as he uttered the next part, "tricking girls into thinking they actually like them."

Silence.

Colin opened his eyes to see Penelope gaping at him in shock.

"You think James," she said slowly "asked me to the Yule Ball... as some sort of cruel prank?

Colin threw his hands up in the air.

"Yes obviously! I mean it makes no sense why he would ask you to go to begin with. The guy has had girls asking him out for the past two weeks and he suddenly decides to ask you. It just seems suspicious. Plus you and him are completely different," he ranted not noticing how Penelope stiffened.

"Different?" she said softly but Colin didn't seem to hear.

"Yes! I mean just look at the way you dressed up for him tonight! The makeup, the dress, the hair! This isn't you Pen and I don't want you to feel like you need to change yourself to get a guy like Potter to like you when he's only leading you on! James Potter is someone who likes having all eyes on them and your-"

"A wallflower?" she finished raising an eyebrow as Colin stopped mid speech as Penelope continued. " So you think the only reason James would ask me to be his date, when he's had much prettier girls asking to be his partner., is because he's pulling a prank on me?"

Colin fell silent as he looked shamefully at the floor.

"Oh I see. You honestly don't think someone like James would be seriously interested in me to want to ask me out because he can do better?"

Colin's head shot up as her grabbed Penelope's hand in his.

"That's not it! Your mind is utterly brilliant Penelope and any guy who can't see that is an idiot."

Penelope smiled sadly at him.

"Brilliant but not beautiful enough to attract someone's attention," she whispered as Colin stiffened.

"It's not like I haven't heard it before Colin. I've heard it all before. From my mother. From my sisters. From the other kids at Hogwarts. I just never thought you would have considered to be the ugly duckling as well. But you know I wanted just one night, one night where I didn't feel like the ugly duckling for once so I dressed up for myself!" she snapped before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"And you know, for once in my life, I actually felt pretty. Maybe I'm not as beautiful as Marina but formonce I actually liked what I saw in the mirror. And then you went on about how ridiculous I look and it made me realize that there's no such thing as an ugly duckling turning into a swan," she laughed sadly as Colin startled, realizing that there were tears filling her eyes.

"That's not what I meant! I told you you are brilliant Pen but it just doesn't make sense for James Potter to ask you to be his date out of the blue a week before the dance when he's turned down everyone else! None of the other the Marauders have dates yet James comes with you out of nowhere. It just doesn't add up," Colin babbled wondering why Penelope couldn't see that he was just looking out for her! He'd been protecting her since first year and he wasn't about to let someone hurt her.

Penelope shot him a glare.

"Colin, I've been tutoring James for the past year and a half. Eloise and I have gone to Hogsmeade with him and the others plenty of times," bristled Penelope as Colin shook his head.

"That can't be right! Your my best friend Pen and I would've definitely noticed-"

"That's because you've been seeing Marina! For Merlin's sake Colin, you barely spent any time around me or your siblings once you two started going out. You always said we'll catch up later but eventually I just gave up because you never followed through. I'm not blaming Marina for this but I think you need to find a better way to balance your priorities. We only started hanging out after Marina and you broke up and even then you only talked about her. I'm fine with listening to you but not once did you ever ask about my life. Do you even know how my classes are going or who I'm hanging out with? "

Colin quickly tried to back peddle.

"Of course I do Pen! You said something last week about having trouble with the mandrakes right?" he asked desperately as Penelope shook her head sadly.

"That was during my first few weeks of Herbology class last year," she whispered before shaking her head. She gently removed Colin's robes and placed them back in his arms before turning and walking away towards the Great Hall.

Colin knew he should go after, beg for her forgiveness or something but he remained frozen in place.

Penelope shot him one last look over her shoulder.

"Just so you know, I've been friends with James since last year. Yes he's a prankster but he's not cruel or malicious Colin. He asked me to go as friends since he knew I wouldn't try and use him like other girls. He's been an amazing friend and to be honest," she let out a shaky breath, "he's been a lot better of a friend than you are. I'm not sure what happened with us but I need some space from you for now."

With those words, she disappeared around the corner perhaps heading back to James or back to the dorms. Colin didn't know how long he stood there until Richard stumbled upon him. carrying a bottle of fire whiskey followed by an amused Will Mondrich and Harry Dankworth.

"Colin mate! I found some fire whiskey and me and the others are heading to the room of requirement for a drink? You in?" asked Fife, wiggling his eyebrows making Colin remember how he'd left his girlfriend back in the Great Hall. As if reading his mind Will answered Colin's unspoken question.

"She headed back to the dorms with Alice. Apparently the food was not agreeing with her," he said as Colin grabbed the bottle and took a swig from it.

"I'm in," he said, hoping to forget about this night as soon as possible.

And forget the fact that he'd probably just ruined his relationship with his best friend permanently.

_____________________________________________________________

Meanwhile

Once she was sure she was far enough away from Colin where he couldn't see her, Penelope hurriedly collapsed by the stairs to the Great Hall, thankful no one was around to her wretched state.

The night had honestly been magical. She'd been unsure about what James would think of her dress (she'd ordered a green one to match Colin's eyes) and had sat nervously as Edwina had finished place the violets James had given her in her hair.

All the nerves faded when James gaped at her as she exited the through the portrait hole, nervously stammering on about how beautiful she looked and she'd had to bite down a laugh at how he was acting like he was asking her to the ball again. But eventually they fell into their usual banter as James proudly escorted her to the Great Hall where the other Marauders greeted them and she'd spent the next few hours in their company, laughing and having a great time.

Surprisingly, James was a very skilled dancer, whisking her around the floor with the occasional dip that made her laugh, pouting like a child when one of his friends (usually Michael) would step in and steal her away.

It was the most fun she'd had in a long time and the evening had been so perfect.

But she was Penelope Featherington, so of course the other shoe was bound to drop at some point.

She just honestly hadn't expected it to come from Colin though.

Penelope knew she wasn't attractive, it would be impossible not to be when your mother was Portia Featherington. She was too short, too curly, too curvy, too pale, too everything. It was only with the Bridgertons and her friends, that she felt even halfway decent about herself.

Why she thought Colin would think any differently was a mystery to her but it still hurt hearing someone she cared about confirm all the things her mother said.

Penelope Featherington would never be good enough, no matter how hard she tried.

And so she sobbed for the friend she lost that night, wishing she had seen the cracks earlier before it had been shattered and cut at her heart.

It must have been only a minute when she heard someone slowly walking over to her. They said nothing as they sat beside her and pulled her into their arms.

"I'm sorry, I've made a whole mess of things," she hiccuped, earning a reassuring squeeze.

"Nah Feathers, you haven't ruined anything. It's not your fault Bridgerton is a prat," huffed James as Penelope pulled away to look up at him. Normally, she would have begun defending Colin but for once she didn't have the words to say to come to his defense.

"How did you-"

"Michael saw him pull you away. Didn't want to intrude but when you didn't come back I decided to check and see if you were okay," he said softly as Penelope sniffled.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want but can I make a suggestion?" he asked as Penelope nodded against his chest.

"I say we forget about Bridgerton and go back in there to finish the rest of our night because I'll be damned if I let you leave this ball sad when you've been looking forward to it for weeks," said James as Penelope did her best to wipe away her tears.

"You still wanna dance with me after all this?" she questioned, as James helped her to her feet.

"No, I what I really want to do is find Bridgerton and hex him into next year or better yet sick Eloise on him. But I did promise you a good time tonight and I intend to follow through on that promise. So, what do you say Penny? Still willing to chance getting you toes stepped on by me? Seventh times the charm," he said, wiggling his eyebrows as Penelope laughed.

She quickly pulled out her wand from her pocket, muttering a spell that would fix her makeup back to normal (thankful that Daphne had taught the trick to her earlier). Smiling, she tooks James' arm as they headed back into the ballroom, passing by three of Colin's friends who thankfully ignored her.

As promised, the rest of the night was spent dancing and laughing, though she did notice Theo had left as some point leaving Eloise by herself. Her best friend had looked a bit put out until she started chatting with Phillip about something, neither being in the mood to dance apparently.

At last, the ball ended and like a true gentleman, James escorted her back to her dorm, Phillip and Eloise walking ahead of them. Eloise had already gone through the portrait hole leaving just her and James outside the corridor.

"I had a really good time tonight James," she said smiling as he shot her a mischievous grin.

"Well I did promise you a magical evening Miss Featherington and I take my promises very seriously," he teased.

"That you did," she agreed.

She couldn't say why she did what she did next, only that it felt right in the moment, but for whatever reason, she quickly stood on her tiptoes and kissed James on his cheek.

Pulling back, she hid a smile at the shocked look on his face before turning towards the portrait hole.

"Goodnight James," she called over her shoulder as she entered her dorm room where Eloise stood waiting for her, clearly wanting to talk.

It would be year before Penelope kiss James Potter again.

Only this time, she knew exactly why she was kissing him and she was not the first one to make a move.

Ironically it would also take place on Christmas.

______________________________________________________________

I know this is longer than what many of you were expecting but I wanted to show what lead up to the fight and how both of them reacted afterwards.

Penelope will end up dating James (as you can see from the last couple of lines).

If you have anymore questions about this AU, feel free to ask! I have a whole bunch of scenes worked out, including some big events like:

The aftermath of the ball where secrets are revealed and someone is dead

Penelope and Colin reconciling before he leaves to go travel the world for his job (I'm deciding between him being a Magizoologist or Dragonologist)

The Christmas after the ball (AKA Penelope and James first real kiss!)

The REAL big fight between Colin and Penelope that happens the summer after Penelope's sixth year that leads to them not talking for seven years.

The Event (that's it, because more words will spoil what goes down but I'd be happy to give a hint.

#bridgerton #bridgerton au #Bridgerton Harry Potter AU #asks and answers

15 notes · View notes

klarolineashur1919 · 2 years

Text

Only We Matter Series

Part 8

January 2, 1926

Ruined

Penelope pov

He woke up from my lap and kissed my forehead then left. That's last memory I have of him.

No letters, No calls. Only years later my brother dead and my cousin in the hospital.

What did I expect?

He said only we mattered but it was an empty promise.

I haven't left Michael's side since his surgery was over. We don't talk much but I'd rather just be with him than the rest of them. None of this would have happened if Thomas and John listened to me not to start a war but I was just their little sister what did I know.

Little did they know they ruined everything for me. The one thing, one person I cared about besides my family, they ruined it.

Michael was handling company work while he rested. I tried to help him but he insisted he could do it himself so there wasn't much for me to do but read and think about the past ruined now. The way Luca took me to the theater, walks through the park, how he taught me Italian, how he kissed me, how we danced. His laugh, his smile, how gentle he was towards me.

All ruined.

Here I am reading Dante's Inferno about a knight trying to save his lover from hell. Will I be saved from this hell? From this hell of remembering, from this hell of constantly mentally screaming at my family for what they've done to me but never being able to tell them what they did. I became like Thomas. Never smiling, no emotions. Just like him losing Grace, I lost Luca. But it's worst because he's alive and it will never be the same.

I was in a mental void. I just sat and stared at a book, not noticing what was happening until Michael shouted and fell to the floor. But before I could even catch the nurse, that's when we heard the gunshot.

I helped Michael up fast, not thinking of much else to do.

Then moments later a man that looked but didn't seem like my love came through the double doors as I stood frozen in place.

Everything about Luca looked dark, his eyes were cold.

He looked like a man on a vendetta.

"Uh-uh-uh Where I'm from, a hat on the bed's unlucky" He kept his eyes on Michael, hasn't even acknowledged me since he's walked in.

"My family . . say it brings death" he walks towards Michael, he has the same way about him but it's different then he used to be with me. The way he's moves towards Michael, that bloody toothpick in his mouth, and even the way he talks.

It's all different to me. But why wouldn't it be?

"Maybe . . maybe that's what happened Last time my man was sent for you, you got lucky" He was standing in front of Michael now, not breaking eye contact with him. He pulled a gun out of his waistcoat a moment later.

"Now . . your luck's run out" as he puts a gun to Michael's head, that's when I finally made a move. I silently pushed Michael back into the bed and replaced my head to the barrel of the gun. That's the first time Luca has looked at me since he's been here. It in a way broke my heart.

It wasn't like how he used to look at me. It was cold and mocking.

"Is this the Shelby family right here. Letting their women take bullets for them?" He gave a dark chuckle as he stared down Michael from behind me, who was not moving out of fear. Luca seeming like he was giving Michael a chance to move me out of the way, now turned back to me.

As he cocked back the revolver and all I could think was no he couldn't.

But his eyes and his face told a different story.

And in those few seconds I decided if I was going to die than I'd be happy it was by him as least. Maybe if I thought that, it would hurt less that he could.

Then he shot the gun, and I didn't flinch just a single tear rolled down my face as I realized I wasn't dead. Suddenly he pulled me to him and tilted my head up to him.

"Pensi davvero che potrei farti del male Vita mia" but all I could think of was the sound of the gun going off against my forehead now replaced by his lips as he kissed my head. Now his face, the way he looked at me almost back to the way it used to be.

Almost.

"Incontrami dove mi hai visto l'ultima volta" I opened my mouth to protest that I couldn't meet him but that's when his face turned back to how it was before. I knew I couldn't say no as he started to leave.

"And tell your mother . . we have a deal." Luca did the Sicilian sign for watch out and left.

Me and Michael looked at each other confused. Me confused at what Luca meant and Michael confused by how he was with me.

But when Tommy came soon after neither of us said a word that would have betrayed the other.

Translations:

you really think I could hurt you my life

Meet me where you last saw me

Taglist:

@nikirkrym @mariamyousef702

#luca changretta x oc #luca changretta #luca changretta x shelby!sister #shelby oc #luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta x shelby!reader #luca changretta x reader #dark!luca changretta

31 notes · View notes

juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid.

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail.

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them.

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match.

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one.

The newest addition to the list is her.

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible.

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him.

A trillion. At least.

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him.

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening.

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior.

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book.

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach.

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him.

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it.

And probably because she just said it to me right now.

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence.

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity.

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.”

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels.

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.”

That surely kept us apart.

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that.

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work.

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age.

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.”

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?”

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me.

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too.

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me.

What was going on?

What is going on?

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with.

“What do you think about me dating again?”

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue.

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is.

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch.

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that?

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought.

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish.

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.”

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.”

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine.

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?”

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …”

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag.

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one.

Red.

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice.

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect.

_ _ _

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes.

That story for later? This is the one.

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do.

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really.

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates.

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down.

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word.

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.”

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered.

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.”

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise.

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well.

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand.

If he kissed me.

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here.

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe.

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting.

I don’t wanna seem the way I do

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all.

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way.

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half.

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress.

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes.

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner.

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently.

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance.

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go.

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that.

But I’m confident when I’m with you

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained.

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it.

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke.

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable.

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me.

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again.

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.”

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said.

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.”

_ _ _

“In what way?”

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer.

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated.

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet.

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him.

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?”

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.”

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed.

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.”

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was.

“How am I wrong?”

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?”

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.”

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own.

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger.

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice.

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine.

_ _ _

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission.

I was the first.

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him.

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t.

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line.

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face.

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.”

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!”

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day.

_ _ _

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter.

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility.

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg.

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things.

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?”

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.”

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me.

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else.

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered.

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite.

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

If you’re on this taglist, I strongly suggest commenting, reblogging, or liking!

CLICK HERE TO JOIN A TAGLIST

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid @spenxerslut @you-sunshine

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #juniorgman187 #be forever young

304 notes · View notes

spencerreidscoffeecup · 3 years

Text

Night Out (smutty/fluff)

CW: kissing, getting caught kissing (by a child), slight teasing, dirty thoughts, talk of alcohol consumption, mutual pining, mention of nipple piercings, fluff!!, #milfalert ;), pervy spencer

Word Count: 3300

AN: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this one shot! <3

Spencer's POV:

"Can't you find anyone to babysit?"

Looking up from the book I was currently reading, I listened in on the conversation that was going on between Emily, Penelope, JJ, and Y/n.

We had finally come back from a week-long case, and the girls had been planning a night out once everyone got back home. As of now, we were on the jet, half the team asleep, the other half discussing their plans.

"Everyone's busy," Y/n frowned, combing a few loose hairs behind her right ear. "Besides, I haven't seen Aaliyah in over a week; I should probably stay home."

"Y/n, Aaliyah is three- almost four- years old! You haven't gone out since the year before she was born. You deserve to take a break and enjoy yourself. You can hang out with her on Saturday." Emily reasoned, splaying her hands out on the table in front of her as I listened.

"I would love to, Em, but everyone is too busy to babysit. It's not like I'm gonna send her to her abusive father in New York; fuckin' asshole," she mumbled the last remark, rolling her eyes.

Before I could stop myself, I piped into their conversation. "I-I'll babysit Aaliyah."

JJ raised her eyebrows at me. "Spence, you've never babysat anyone before. Do you know how to?"

"I know how to babysit!" I squeaked, laying my book down on the table in front of me, crossing my arms defensively in front of my chest. "Besides, I haven't seen Aaliyah in a month. I miss her."

"You would do that for me?" Y/n spoke quietly, smiling softly.

I blushed. "Of-of course. I would do anything for you--" the words flew from my mouth like vomit.

Jesus, Spencer.

Could you be any more obvious?

Emily chuckled as I tried to revise my wording, the beautiful woman sitting on the couch blushing slightly as she bit her lower lip.

"I-I mean! I would- I-I love Aaliyah, of c-course I would help you out. You deserve it."

Y/n smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling slightly.

God, she's so beautiful.

So perfect.

"Thank you, Spence," Y/n stood up from her place on the jet's couch, bent down, and gave me a kiss on the cheek, then stood up, lightly hugging my head to her pelvis lightly as she looked down at me, before combing her fingers through my hair as she talked with the girls; leaning her body against my seat. My heart fluttered in my chest as I blushed. Hard.

Before walking away to grab some more coffee, she ruffled my hair. Her hips swayed as she walked to the other side of the jet. I reluctantly tore my eyes from her without being too noticeable.

I turned my head back to the girls, their eyebrows arched, a smirk crawling up their lips.

I gulped, "W-what?"

JJ shook her head dismissavely, "Oh nothing, loverboy."

Heat crawled up my neck, spreading across my face as I willed myself to look back at my book.

But I couldn't read properly.

I kept touching the cheek Y/n so delicately pressed her soft lips upon. My face tingled slightly and my heart leapt, replaying the moment in my head over and over.

Turns out, that was a better entertainment than my book for the next two hours on the jet.

Friday Night: 6:56 PM

If I thought the butterflies that circled my body once Y/n had kissed my cheek had been bad, it was nothing compared to the feeling I got when she opened the door; her blue pajama pants on and a tank top that was taut to her upper body making my slacks tighten shamefully.

She looked so beautiful when she was in comfortable, domestic clothing, that I was barely able to focus on the words that were coming out of her mouth as she tried inviting me inside her apartment. Instead, I stood in the doorway, eyes wide as I swallowed thickly, my eyes wandering her figure and face.

I imagined waking up next to her, the golden sun illuminating her face. I would cherish the small kisses we would share sleepily, smiling against one another's lips. The embrace we share: warm and inviting.

"Spence?" she laughed softly. I snapped out of my daze.

"Y-Yeah?"

"You okay?"

I nodded, smiling. "Yes of course, I'm sorry."

Y/n only giggled, the sound filling my body with butterflies and a great dose of serotonin.

She opted to pull me in by my tie, and I yelped slightly at the sudden force. I bit down the small moan that was begging to be released from my throat as she closed the door and smoothed my silk tie out for me.

Smiling softly, she put a hand on my cheek. "Thank you so much. I know this probably isn't the first thing you'd want to do on a Friday night."

I smiled meekly.

"It's no problem. And usually I read at home. Alone. During any occasion or day of the week, really."

I subtly nuzzled my head in her palm before hearing little footsteps approach.

"Mommy! Who-? SPENCIE!" Aaliyah's curly hair bounced on her head as a great smile split across her cheeks at the sight of me. She ran over, jumping happily and wrapping her tiny arms and hands around my upper thigh. She giggled as I swooped down and picked her up.

"Hello, Aaliyah!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around her pj cladded body, to which she wrapped her arms around my neck and sprinkled light, but slightly open mouthed kisses on my face.

"Aaliyah, quit suffocating Spencer," Y/n chuckled nervously, pulling the three-year old away from my body and settling her daughter on her hip. Aaliyah made grabby-hands for me, so I extended my hand and let her wrap her tiny hand around my thumb. She played with my digits as Y/n kissed her daughter's forehead. "I'm sorry about her energy, I told her you'd be coming to babysit but she must've forgotten. Now she's all worked up."

"Don't worry about it," I assured her, smiling happily at the image in front of me.

"Spen- Spencie we can bake cookies!" Aaliyah hiccuped, beaming.

"That sounds great!"

Y/n smiled before hearing her phone chime in the other room. "Oh, shoot. I should get ready,"

I nodded, taking Aaliyah from her arms as Y/n made her way to the bedroom.

The toddler squished my face with her tiny hands, a giggle bubbling from her throat.

"Thanks for arriving early, Spence," Y/n called from her room. "And thanks for doing this."

"It's no problem, really." I set Aaliyah down, letting her hold my hand.

It was quiet besides the little fits of laughter made by Aaliyah and me, and the soft music that played as Y/n got ready.

"Spencie," Aaliyah whispers, pulling me in close by gripping the fabric of my sweater vest. "My mommy really likes you. She talks about you so much." she whispers into my ear, the smell of strawberry baby soap wafting from her curly hair. I feel myself blush.

Y/n talks about me?

A lot, apparently.

Aaliyah giggles and runs off to her room, telling me that she is going to grab some more toys.

My thoughts swarm throughout my head until Y/n exits her room.

Fuck.

"Uhm, h-how do I look?" she asks nervously, flattening her dress out beneath her palms.

She wore a cotton, navy blue, low-cut, U-neck, short-sleeved dress. It was tight against her body, the image making my body and face heat up as I gulped heavily. Her black high-heels made the urge for wanting her to step on me grow.

I adjusted the drooping glasses on my nose as my mouth opened slightly. I felt my breathing pick up.

With a clearer image, I saw that tonight, she wore nothing underneath; the sight made me feral. Two small bulbs on either side of her pebbled nipples caught my attention. I was confused for a brief moment before I realized. Nipple piercings.

Fucking hell.

I was sexualizing her. I knew it. I hated myself for it. Thus, I tore my eyes away from her.

"I-I mean- you look- just- well, you know- very uhm- y-you look grea- beautiful. Y-you look absolutely beautiful." I cleared my throat, subtly adjusting the tightening in my slacks.

God, I'm a terrible person.

"Thank you, Spencer." she giggled.

I can only imagine her taking control over my body, her hand wrapping around my throat as she scolds me for being like this. For thinking of her like this. She would ride me until she came and wouldn't allow me to finish until I made her cum three times. And I would feed on her pleasure. Feed on the way my essence would drip down from her body and pool at mine.

My heart hammered in my chest as I looked down, fidgeting with my hands.

I didn't even realize Y/n striding over to me. My hair must've been in my eyes as she got down next to me and combed some of my hair back. Again, I felt my face turn red. It was a routine at this point. She straddled my thigh as she did this, leaning over and fixing my once-gelled hair.

"Sorry," she laughed softly, standing back up as Aaliyah ran back into the room. "I've been wanting to fix it all night."

A content sigh left her mouth as she kissed her daughter's head and grabbed her purse. I stood up in pursuit.

A ding rang from her phone. She read from her device.

"Alright, they're here!" she announced, picking Aaliyah up and hugging her tightly. "Be good for Spence, okay?" Aaliyah nodded happily, running back over to me once her mother set her down on the ground.

"Okay, Spence?" Y/n turned her attention towards me. "Aaliyah's food is in the refrigerator, don't let her have more than one cookie, and her bedtime is 9:00. She's gonna try and push it back further, and no matter how much she begs, please; don't budge." she chuckled, fixing her lip gloss in the small mirror next to her apartment's front door.

"Food: refrigerator, one cookie, bedtime: 9." I recited.

Y/n grinned and quickly kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you for doing this again, Spence. It means a lot to me."

I smiled bashfully. "Of course. Have fun."

Y/n smiled back and ran out the door, kissing Aaliyah on her forehead and began to meet with her friends.

I stared at the door before I felt small hands tug on my left pant-leg. "Spencie, I want cookies!" Aaliyah huffed.

I snapped out of my dazed feelings and followed the toddler into the kitchen.

"Okay! Cookie time!"

After one Barbie movie, a dozen cookies baked, dinner eaten, and two children's books, I, and Aaliyah were exhausted by the end of the night.

Thus, at 9:05, (Aaliyah had been sneaky and hid from me under her bed (giving me quite the panic) as to extend her bedtime) I tucked the sleepy child in.

"Spencie?" she whispered sleepily, I hummed in response as I ran my fingers through her hair. "Mommy loves you. A lot. Just thought you would wan' know." she yawned, snuggling closer to her pink bunny-rabbit I had gifted her the day she was born.

My heart fluttered in my chest at her words.

Spencer, what are you thinking?

She's three years old.

She still thinks unicorns still exist.

There's no way Y/n likes you like that.

I smiled softly and kissed her forehead gingerly as she snuggled closer into my chest.

Although, those contradicting thoughts were shushed a sleepy goodnight as I felt my eyes flutter close. Even in the cramped space of Aaliyah's bed, I still dreamt of a happy life with Y/n and Aaliyah. I dreamt of happiness that would warm the coldest of hearts.

I dreamt of my dream girl, who so happened to be Y/n.

I dreamt of the sweetest of things.

The most beautiful.

Y/n.

Reader's POV:

Coming back home at midnight from a loud and eccentric club was seemingly always therapeutic.

I had missed Aaliyah.

A lot.

And I had also missed Spencer.

But I was glad to go out and enjoy my time with the girls. I milked an alcoholic strawberry daiquiri all night as we danced and grinded on one another.

It was fun.

However, I still missed my daughter (and the babysitter).

I couldn't wait to shower and crawl into my bed, dreaming of the happiest of things. I couldn't wait to dream of my fantasize of my dream man, who so happened to be Spencer.

I saw the way he looked at me.

I knew his feelings for me. I had felt the same way about him. And although this may be cruel, I loved to innocently tease him. I loved to make him nervous and loved watching him stutter around his words at the slight touch of my hand on his shoulder or chest.

I wanted to feel him. Have a domestic life with him. Be with him.

I wanted Aaliyah to have an amazing father, and I knew that if Spencer was up for it, he would love me and her unconditionally. He would fit in the spot of 'father' so comfortably.

And I felt shameful for those nights I would pleasure myself to the thought of him. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips against my skin. The way he would pour himself into my body with all the love he could muster.

And although those were the more tame thoughts, I still dreamt of the way I would control him under my touch. Make him beg.

Those thoughts made my heart flutter in my chest and my orgasm erupt from my body whenever I would play with myself.

Going back to now, as if I could think the mere sight of Spencer was enough to melt my heart, I definitely was not prepared for the sight I would see once at home.

Aaliyah was snuggled on his chest, a book splayed open across his lap as they both slept so soundly. His arms wrapped protectively but comfortingly around my daughter, her tiny body a fraction of his.

I almost didn't wake him until I realized that it was probably cruel for him to sleep in such a small bed, even if he looked so comfortable in it. His feet hung over the edge, the mismatched socks he wore making me laugh softly.

I bent over, kissing him softly on the forehead. He stirred, his eyes closing tightly before fluttering open.

"Hi," I whispered, combing some hair from his eyes.

"Hey," he yawned softly. "Sorry, I must've fallen asleep."

I shrugged slightly.

"No need to apologize. Looks like she likes you more than her stuffed animals," I chuckled.

Spencer laughed quietly along with me as he grabbed his shoes, then bent down to kiss Aaliyah's cheek; her nose scrunching up in response as she snuggled closer to her pink rabbit.

We walked to the living room as to talk some more.

I loved hearing Spencer talk.

It was one of my favorite things about him; the way he rambled about random things.

Him and Penelope were definitely the reason why we figured so many cases out.

"Thanks again," I smiled, hugging him.

"Of course. I love Aaliyah. And I love hanging out with her. She's a lot of fun."

I smiled and then pulled away, grabbing my purse, then pulled out a fifty dollar bill.

Spencer's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What's this for?"

"For babysitting." I explained.

"No way. You don't need to pay me." he whispered.

I bit my lower lip, smiling softly. "Please. You've done so much."

Spencer's warm hand opened mine with the fifty dollar bill and gently forced my hand to close around it.

"Seriously, it's okay. I love being with Aaliyah. And I love helping you out. I don't want you to pay me."

I nodded reluctantly after a moment, putting the money back in my bag.

"Well then," I began, smoothing his sweater vest out underneath my palm. "How can I repay you?"

I looked up at him through doe-eyes, biting my lower lip softly. Spencer noticeably gulped.

God, he's so cute.

"W-wh- uhm," he cleared his throat, laughing softly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," I began, our bodies slowly closing the gap between us. "I'll do anything you want me to do in order to repay you." my voice was a whisper as I wrapped my hand around the bottom of Spencer's tie.

Spencer swallowed thickly once more, his eyes peering through a half-lidded gaze; his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Before I or we could say another word, his lips were on mine. My whole entire body seemed to light aflame, the adrenaline and small amount of alcohol I consumed fueling the fiery kiss.

Lewd, wet noises sounded throughout the living room of my apartment as I pulled Spencer in closer, our tongues twining together then softly massaging one another. His hands hovered above my hips before I placed one on my ass and the other on my hip bone. He whimpered softly.

His hand that sat on my hip bone ran up the side of my torso very gently as we kissed, his other hand on my ass squeezing it softly. I hummed into his mouth at the feeling. I pressed my body against his as my hand cupped his neck, my neck recoiling at how intensely we were kissing.

I made my way to sucking on the skin of his neck and jawline, his hands now fully on my ass as he experimented with squeezing it; his breath hitching in his throat and his eyes closed.

I felt him hard against my thigh, our heated kisses so intoxicating that we were gasping into each other's mouths. We were so into one another that I didn't even realize Aaliyah had snuck downstairs and had cleared her throat. She did it louder this time and I gasped before pulling away. A blush creeped onto Spencer's cheeks. He looked so beautiful and ruined. His lips were red and slick, his hair was tousled, and his glasses were astray on his face. Kiss stains and my red lipstick marked his neck; the makeup practically as red as the blush that sat on the apples of his cheeks.

"A-Aaliyah. Hi, baby," I stammered breathlessly, combing my fingers through my hair. "Why are you up so late, my love?"

Aaliyah dodged my question and in turn focused her attention on Spencer, a smile brimming at her lips.

"Are you my new daddy?"

Oh my god.

"Oh, god," I muttered, laughing nervously before picking my daughter up and kissing her cheek. Spencer laughed along, seemingly happy at the question.

That's a relief.

I bit my lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing before taking Aaliyah upstairs, and tucking her in bed.

I ran back down, hoping to see Spencer, however, he was gone. I felt my heart drop in my chest.

Damn it.

I ran out of my apartment, seeing the young doctor fixing his hair as he walked to the elevator.

"Spencer!" I called after him, and I saw relief wash over his features. Before saying another word, I planted a kiss on his lips. I pulled away, our faces decorated with smiles. "Thank you. Maybe we could do something like this some other time? Preferably.. alone?"

The genius laughed softly, his face still adorned with a blush. "That sounds great. But then we are going to have to search for a babysitter somewhere else."

"That sounds like a good idea." I laughed before our lips met once more into soft kisses.

#spencerreid #spencerreidxreader #fluff

105 notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter twenty-eight

Hi babes! I forgot to say this last chapter, but I made a playlist for this story! Here’s the link xx. You’re welcome to snoop around my Spotify! I make tons of playlists haha (Here’s the link to the “pov: you’re falling in love with aaron hotchner” one <3)

Chapter title is from “Let’s Get Married” by Bleachers!

Warnings: lots of ~suggestive~ comments (no smut), angst if you squint (i think), loads of fluff

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Eight: I know it’s hard enough to love me

Aaron doesn’t get done at the BAU until seven. Much later than he wanted, but he had work that he couldn’t abandon. The case still wasn’t closed yet – all the paperwork is done now, but it normally doesn’t take him this long.

He shouldn’t overanalyze his every move, but he can’t help it. He knows he’s walking a thin line, dating a member of his team. A fellow agent, a much younger fellow agent, when he’s a divorced father who doesn’t even have custody of his own son, only visitation.

It’s tearing him apart. But the one thing that puts him back together, is seeing you.

So, that’s what he does.

He didn’t like leaving you this morning. He didn’t want to. But he didn’t expect the psych eval to upset you as much as it did. He truly was only trying to give you a heads up – even though that’s against his rules, too.

He’s breaking all his rules for you. Every last one of them.

And yet, you don’t care.

You open your apartment door to him, and you throw yourself in his arms like you’ve waited all day for him.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he says, kicking your door closed with his foot. His arms are around your waist and yours are around his neck, so he’s lifting you off the ground just enough to carry you over to the couch. He’s careful when he shifts your weight as he sits down, so he can swing your legs around gently so you’re sitting in his lap, your arms never having to leave their place around his neck.

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice muffled due to the fact that you’re hiding your face in his neck. “I’m sorry I was so grumpy this morning.”

Aaron sighs, rubbing your back. “You’re forgiven, I promise.”

You lift your head a little to press a kiss to his cheek, your apology in two parts. “My mom and I talked about it.”

“What did she have to say about it?”

You smile softly. “That you look at me the way my grandpa looked at my grandma.”

Aaron hums, curious.

You continue. “She said you looked like you’d bring the moon down to Earth if I asked you.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I would.” Another kiss. “I’d need some help.” Another kiss. “But just say the word.”

Another kiss and you’re giggling. “I don’t need the moon, Aaron.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow. “Or are you too afraid to ask?”

You shake your head. “I’m not.”

He tilts his head, giving you another look. “Little girl…”

“No,” you stop him, pulling him closer, staring into the glass of whiskey that is his eyes. “I don’t need the moon…because I have you.” You pause, watching his eyes, seeing his reaction. “And that’s enough,” you whisper. “I don’t know how to let you love me, but I’m gonna try.”

“Y/N…”

“Mom told me you just love me too much. You’re not trying to upset me, you’re just…trying to make sure I’m okay and that I can do this without killing myself, I guess.”

“She’s right,” he adds softly.

“I know she is,” you chuckle. “She’s right a lot more than I want her to be, but point is, I’m not mad at you. Thank you for the warning about the psych eval. I know you weren’t trying to be a dick by doing it.” He’s not out to get you. You know that now, or you’re trying to.

“Thank you for saying all this,” he says quietly, the one hand that isn’t holding your back coming up to brush your cheek. “I owe you an apology, too. I didn’t do a good job of explaining earlier and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you right before I had to leave. That wasn’t fair.”

“It really wasn’t,” you laugh, “but thank you.”

He hums, sealing the resolve with another kiss. “Have you eaten dinner?”

You shake your head. “I was waiting for you.”

He sighs, smiling despite his better judgment. “I appreciate that, but it’s late. You didn’t need to wait for me.”

“Well, tough.” You lay your head on his shoulder, biting your cheeks to keep from smiling. You’re more than well aware that that little comment will poke Aaron’s buttons. His hand tightening around your waist is evidence of it.

“What do you want to eat, brat?”

Your breath hitches. Then, as if you want to make it worse, you say, “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

Aaron sighs again, this time tired and ragged, holding on by a thin thread. “Food, little girl. Food. My cock isn’t food.”

“Well…”

“Y/N.”

“Fine, fine. I don’t know, pizza? Pizza is a safe bet.”

“Pizza it is then,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. While he’s looking up the number of the pizza place, he says nonchalantly, “You know I’m not fucking you until you’re fully recovered. I won’t say it a third time.”

You want to argue because technically sucking him off isn’t him fucking you, but you decide not to. Right now.

Later, you will. He’ll cave eventually. You’re sure of it.

+++

Aaron curves your every attempt to steer things in a more sensual direction. You don’t mind it really, you like teasing him like this – even if you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass when he decides to punish you for it all. But he insists on not fucking you.

You know you were just shot, but you wish he’d just slam you into the wall already.

Unfortunately, your injured leg doesn’t coordinate with your desire because rough sex – or any sex – is off the table now.

You weren’t going to take any pain medicine for it because it wasn’t hurting that bad, but then it got worse, and you think it’s probably because you did laundry today when you definitely shouldn’t have. You’re not telling Aaron that, though. No way.

Still, he made you take some pain medicine, and now you’re settling into the first Harry Potter movie. He kept his word and you did, too. He needs to watch all of them.

You’re lying down now with your head in his lap – on a pillow, of course, because he doesn’t want you getting any ideas – as the familiar tune of the opening scene plays.

You doze in and out, falling asleep quickly because Aaron’s hands are massaging small circles into your head. You recall him throwing a blanket over you at some point, so you must’ve been shivering.

It’s not long before you’ve fallen asleep completely, waking only after the movie has ended and Aaron has you in his arms bridal style, carrying you to your bed.

“What time is it?” You mumble, turning to bury your face in his shirt, inhaling the familiar smell that is your man.

“Almost eleven,” he whispers back.

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Are you staying?”

“Of course,” he replies almost instantly. “I stuck a bag in here when we surprised you.”

“You did?” You ask, smiling stupidly. “Cheeky motherfucker.”

He laughs, catching himself and muffling the sound so it doesn’t rattle your eardrums as hard. “Just looking out for my little girl.”

You hum again, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Your little girl loves it. And you.”

“And I love her too,” he murmurs. “Can I put you down now?”

Your eyes pop open lazily, seeing you’re in your bedroom. “Have you just been holding me?”

He nods as he lowers you onto the bed. “I felt like holding you.”

You hold onto his neck, and he doesn’t seem to mind as he stays bent over you, his nose brushing against yours. In the dim light, you take him in, searching his brown eyes, trying to find some reasoning, some magic spell that made it possible for him to love you this much.

“You better stop,” you whisper, not knowing where this is going.

“Or what?” He asks, inching closer, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Or I’ll wanna marry you for real,” you mumble. You’re aware of what you’re saying, but the exhaustion from the pain medicine makes it hard to fully process your own words. All you know is you mean them, every syllable.

“I already want to marry you,” he replies quietly. He’s not sure if you’re even coherent right now. You look like you are, but it seems too good to be true.

And as if his thoughts are confirmed, your eyes slip closed, sleep taking over.

You probably won’t remember this in the morning.

But he hopes you will.

+++

When you wake up, Aaron is long gone.

There’s a note next to a glass of water on your nightstand. He’s left for work and is going to try to be back earlier this evening. You smile at the thought, knowing he’ll get caught up again, but you don’t mind. It comes with the job.

You would love to go to the office for lunch. Maybe surprise him this time? You wouldn’t need a ride, as long as you don’t take anymore pain medicine today. The affects from last night’s is already gone.

He might kill you for it, but you’re doing it anyway. You miss everyone.

So, on that note, you get up and eat a quick breakfast before throwing on the comfiest clothes you own. It’ll be weird going into the BAU in these clothes with your badge clipped to the edge of your sweatshirt instead of to a blazer.

And sure enough, it does.

Stepping off the elevator on the floor of the BAU feels more nerve-wracking than it should.

On one hand, you’re excited to be here again, to see the rest of the team and to surprise all of them. On the other hand, you know Aaron won’t be happy with you (at first) for coming here. And you have this strange pit in your stomach, but you’re not sure what that’s about.

You push the negative feelings away and try to stay positive, focusing on the reactions from the rest of the team. They’ll be happy to see you, no doubt. That’s what you should be focusing on.

You’ve barely rounded the corner when you run into Penelope.

She grins, shaking her head. “You’re not supposed to be here, you sneaky little weasel.”

“I know, I know,” you groan. “But I was going insane and I miss you guys! I had to come visit and surprise everyone for lunch.”

“I can order in your favorite,” Penelope winks. “Come, come. Let’s grab JJ.”

Penelope links her arm with yours and the two of you walk to JJ’s office. JJ is at her desk and not on the phone for once, but the stacks of case files are as tall as ever. She looks up when you knock on her doorframe, and her face breaks into a grin.

“Hey you!” She stands, ignoring the open file to give you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to say hi,” you chuckle, squeezing her tight. “I’m going insane doing nothing.”

“It’s barely been two weeks,” JJ laughs. “What are you gonna do for the other two months?”

“Don’t even tell me that,” you groan. “I don’t know. I’ll just come bug you guys every day off the clock, I guess.”

“And if they’re gone, you can come camp out with me in my lair,” Penelope offers.

“Of course,” you nudge her arm. “I’ll probably hide out with you to avoid the wrath of Hotch.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here?” JJ asks. She grimaces when you nod. “Good luck with that one, sister.”

“Why do you think I want to walk in there with you guys? I’m not going into the lion’s den alone.”

“Oh, you’d be fine,” Penelope laughs. “We’re still having a girl’s night, right? We still need details and you are not getting out of it.”

“Yes, yes, we can, we’ll find time,” you promise.

After another moment of idle conversation, the three of you head up the hall to the bullpen. Through the glass doors, you can see Reid doing another magical science trick, and he must be practicing because Derek and Emily are working on some paperwork instead of watching him.

You decide to surprise Emily first since her desk is closest. Derek spots you, but doesn’t say a word, letting you sneak up behind Emily.

“Did you use my shampoo?” You ask right into her ear (don’t ask why, it’s the first thing that came to mind).

She spins around and jumps up, pulling you into a hug. Derek gives you a hug next, and Reid waves from his desk before going back to whatever experiment he’s in the middle of doing.

“Where’s Hotch?” You ask, glancing between everyone.

“Your man is in his office,” Derek snickers. “What? Did you not get enough lovin’ this morning?”

“Shut it, Morgan,” you try to smack his arm, but he dodges your swing with a laugh. “And since you asked so nicely, I’m never satisfied.”

Your shit-eating grin earns cheering from the girls, but Morgan groans loudly, shuddering.

“I did not need to know that, L/N. Seriously.”

You shrug. “Don’t ask then.”

Morgan shakes his head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m glad to see you’re just as feisty as always.”

“That’ll never leave me,” you wrap an arm around his waist, accepting his hug. “Where’s Rossi?”

“He took today off,” Emily answers.

“Something about his publisher,” JJ shrugs.

“Another book?” You ask. “I thought he was done with that.”

“Maybe,” Morgan says. “And I thought you weren’t allowed back here for at least another month.”

“To work,” you clarify, poking his stomach. “I’m just here to bug you guys and have lunch. I’m enjoying my time off, thank you very much.”

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

“Out of my fucking mind,” you admit with a laugh.

You’re too busy talking to Morgan to realize Hotch has walked out of his office and is standing on the balcony, arms crossed over his chest, and a near death glare settled on you.

“Uh oh,” Morgan mutters, sliding his arm off your shoulders.

Your arm slips from around his waist, your eyebrows furrowing. “What—Oh. Oops.”

“Y/N,” Hotch says firmly. “Can I speak to you in my office?”

“You’re gon’ get it now,” Morgan says under his breath.

But you hear the remark, so you punch him in his side. “Of course, sir,” you say to Hotch, adding another jab to Morgan’s ribs when you hear him snickering at you. You’re gonna get him back later. So bad.

Aaron turns and walks back into his office. He’s closing the blinds when you walk in.

“Shut the door,” he says sternly.

You do as you’re told (for once), shutting the door behind you. “Aaron, I can expl—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because the wind is knocked out of you, and Aaron lips are smothering your own. He nips at your bottom lip, and you open up for him, moaning when his tongue doesn’t even fight for dominance, just takes. The kiss has you hot all over, thanks to his wandering hands that run under your sweatshirt, leaving goosebumps everywhere his fingertips touch.

When he pulls back, you’re breathless, your chest heaving, your eyes wide, lips bruised.

“Um,” you pause to take a deep breath, licking your buzzing lips. “I’m sorry?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he says sternly. “You’re lucky they’re out there or I’d bend you over my desk.”

You swallow thickly. “You still can.”

He smirks, but shakes his head, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. “No. And if they ask, you can say we were discussing your psych eval.”

You deflate at its mention. You try not to show it, but Aaron sees it. “When is that, by the way?”

“The Friday after next,” he says quietly. “At noon.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “When are you supposed to formally tell me?”

He chuckles. “Today is fine. I can tell Strauss I called you in to discuss it and you decided to have lunch with the team – if she asks.”

“Are you okay with lying to her this much?”

“Believe it or not, I’ve lied to her more often than you think. Before you joined us.”

“I don’t believe it,” you smirk. “You’re always such a stickler for the rules.”

“And yet here I am,” he pauses, kissing you again, “in love with you.”

“Loving me is dangerous, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Next chapter

561 notes · View notes

writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Converging Parallels

Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Summary: Spencer goes to a support group Penelope suggested after the death of Maeve. He quickly connects with a single mom who’s experiences have been similar to Spencer’s.

A/N: I’m prefacing this by saying I know shit about math and am horrible at it lol 😂 so my math analogies might be horribly off 😂 This is my fifth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April- this one was requested by @samuel-de-champagne-problems- this is the request- (go check out there fics too!!) I tweaked it a little bit so I hope you enjoy it 🥺 a lot of it is confined to Spencer grappling with his thoughts- but there is dialogue I promise lol 😂I had a good time writing it ☺️Thanks for all the love recently and if you want to drop me an ask for any reason you can do so here- I’m always looking for some new friends on here (I promise I don’t bite lol) Thanks again and hope y’all enjoy 🥰

Warnings: Angst with a hopeful ending, General dealings surrounding death and grief, Mentions of Maeve’s death, Reader’s a widow, Guilt about moving on, Reader’s child is a daughter

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

Parallel lines were never supposed to meet, they were set on a strict path following in a similar direction with no hope of ever converging. At least that’s what was the widely accepted definition by anyone with any authority in the field of mathematics.

My own math degree was being contested by a set of two lines set on a collision course with each other, though they were not supposed to. Logically I knew that the two lines were not beholden to any mathematical equation as I was referring to two human lives.

We were set on a similar course, only slight differences that seemingly were leading us to different destinations, or at least I tried to convince myself that. I tried every night to convince myself that she was only a friend, that it wasn’t what she wanted and I was desecrating the memory of the person I still claimed to be the only person I loved.

Logically I knew that by forcing where I wanted our relationship to go, what I thought the universe wanted to happen wasn’t what I truly wanted. The reason I had boxed us in so vehemently was only because I was scared and guilty, I knew it too. I wanted us to converge, but logic doesn’t always win out when dealing with guilt.

It had all started with Garcia mentioning that I should consider going to a grief support group after the death of Maeve. Every action I took was being weighed down by her death, whether I cared to admit it or not.

Garcia had good intentions when she suggested going to this meeting to me, of that I was sure. It isn’t that I saw no reason to go to the support group, I just knew that it would dreg up all the unwanted feelings that bombarded me enough already.

The flier in my hands felt heavy even though it was made of paper it weighed my hands down enough where I almost dropped it. I could have let it go then to have it fly away, being taken by the wind, that would let me forget about it. But, I knew it would have only made me forget for a short while, I’d inevitably get questions from Garcia and my own mind wouldn’t let me forget the reality of what had happened. And, logically I knew that it would most likely help. So instead of letting the wind take it away, I crumpled the paper slightly in my hands out of frustration, moving my feet forward one step at a time to enter the building.

That’s where I had first met her. When I first walked in I didn’t immediately lock eyes with her or anything, my eyes were too fixated on the ground for that to happen.

I only noticed her when she was invited to tell her story. Her strength instantly captivated me, almost making me feel like a failure at first. Her story of how she lost her husband was eerily similar in some aspects, especially the cause of his death. The feeling of failure on my part to be strong swirled in my gut as she recounted her struggles that were so starkly similar to mine. She even had a young daughter to take care of as well, she often spoke of her whenever she told her story, almost neglecting herself sometimes- which she admitted she knew she needed to work on.

However, when she came up to me to talk after the meeting was concluded my opinion switched to view her as inspiring. We began getting coffee after each meeting, sometimes talking for hours, sometimes sitting in silence. Whatever I needed she was there to give it to me, whenever she needed help I wanted to be there too.

To see our almost parallel lives begin to converge at first felt like someone had driven a car into traffic about to collide straight into my path. My mind would not stop arguing about whether or not I should pull away from her or not, like guilt was on shoulder and my potential happiness was on the other.

—-

Guilt was eating away at me from the inside out slowly, that part of my mind would not stop clawing away any good aspect of my relationship with Y/N. The relationship between us had shifted in recent weeks, tension invading what had once been a simply platonic connection formed through our shared experiences. When it became clear to me what our lingering stares and touches were leading to, guilt had reared its ugly head to burrow its way down deep and take root.

It had disrupted my sleep even more than usual, nightmares ranging from Maeve guilting me to the visuals of her death. The images of Maeve and any time I had shared with her invaded my brain at all hours of the night, haunting me. I scrunched my eyes up tight, maybe that would banish the images from my brain. That only made the guilt worse it seemed as I now felt double the guilt for wanting to banish the thoughts about a person I still claimed to love.

My hand hit the pillow in frustration, then grabbing it and throwing it to some unknown location across the room. Sitting up, no longer being able to tolerate laying down knowing that sleep would never come, made my exhausted joints beg me to lay back down. I leaned forward to put my head in my hands, also tangling my curls with my fingers. I tried to think about what Y/N had said to me at one of the first meetings I had attended, my normally impeccable memory struggled as the memory of Maeve’s bloodied face would not leave. Screaming internally was the only thing that seemed to work to push the words I was looking for forward,

“I try to think about something my therapist told me- Although it's difficult today to see beyond the sorrow, May looking back in memory help comfort you tomorrow.”

The quote wasn’t something groundbreaking or new, though the origins were unknown. But, the words still struck me deep everytime I forced my memory to call back on them.

The words she had spoken in the meeting when talking about her husband made me want to try too. She inspired me whenever she told snippets of her story to me or the rest of the group, her story had been similar to mine- with the added element of having a daughter to raise on her own.

Her strength was what had drawn me to her initially, like a moth to flame. Our relationship wasn’t even a friendship at first, just two people sharing advice (more her giving it to me) about how to deal with crippling grief.

What had blossomed since then from death and decay had thrown me for a loop. I hadn’t been expecting for this to happen, I never even thought romance would be an option for me again. I thought that I would have one great love and that our time in the sun had ended along with any option for romantic interests in the future.

Then she came along and spun my thinking upside down, not that I blamed her at all for it. She originally had just reached out to help me, not to pursue any romantic connection purposefully while I was vulnerable.

She continued to stay with me to help despite my urge to push her away even though that’s not what I wanted. I tried hard to convince myself that our lives were never meant to connect, that we were destined to remain apart.

It took many more sleepless nights for me to realize what I hadn’t seen for so long, even with Y/N reassuring me at every turn. Maeve would want me to be happy, I was sure of it. So I’d try to let myself, no longer letting myself get hindered by my own swirling thoughts of guilt that Maeve wouldn’t have wanted me to feel.

—-

Asking her out on a date had been surprisingly easy once I had let go a little of my guilt. We had chosen to go somewhere different than a coffee shop, since we already did that often. I took her out to more of an upscale restaurant than she was used to, which may be too fancy for some for a first date, but she deserved it. She worked so hard to take care of her daughter and even me to some extent.

At the end of the night we were both standing outside her door ready to go in to relieve the babysitter for the night. I had already given her a chaste kiss for the night, even though my nerves kept trying to talk me out of it. I was about to say goodbye when she grabbed my wrist to hold in her hands. She looked afraid at first, almost like she wondered if I wouldn’t like her touching me. Touch may bother me with most people, but she wasn’t most people, I’d happily share germs with her. When I did not pull away relief was evident in her eyes, then taking a big breath before speaking,

“Would you like to meet my daughter?” Her voice was shaky, understandably full of worry.

“Of course.” In the past hesitation would have littered my voice if she had asked me the same question. But, my thoughts had been slowly shifting to want our lines to converge fully and with no fear. Sure, Maeve would always capture a place in my heart, but I was ready for our lives to collide. Our parallel lives converged into one line, with a set path forward. It may get derailed from its intended path, but we would be stronger together than apart.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (damn tumblr just let me tag them)

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fanfic #30 fics in 30 days

224 notes · View notes

slutfornat · 3 years

Text

Little Hotch // Scared To Death.

Warnings: haley slander, sad boi spencer and mention of killings.

Y/n's POV.

After my dad having two weeks off and him not believing the fact my mum is clearly cheating despite answering a call from the guy she's with, I've decided to go to work with him.

Technically, I wasn't meant to go with dad but as I did todays school work yesterday and mum finds me irritating, she dropped me off at the BAU so I finally get to go on a case with them after years of begging.

I walk into the room as who I believe is jj say "we have four bodies in Oregon". When dad begins to talk he sees me and immediately stops as they all turn back to look at me.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? You have school" he asks whilst I begin to feel nervous from everyone staring. Trying not to roll my eyes at him because oblivious, I say "well I've been doing all my work at home since September and obviously my teachers don't mind as it's one less sophomore to deal with".

Suddenly, who I know to be Garcia turns to me and seems to have a crisis for a minute, saying "but my research says your eleven? Please tell me I'm right and not losing my fabulous skills."

"No, I am eleven but I was moved up four years" I answer as she lets out a sigh of relief. My dad, knowing he can't say no just agrees before going back to talking about Gideon leaving and the case.

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

Not long after we're on the jet when because of spencer not paying attention, penelope says "good thing you're handsome, doctor".

They continue on with the case and I pay attention to the majority of it but slowly get bored when they go over most of the same information in the files.

About two hours later we are being introduced to the sheriff by jj when the sheriff just points at me for a second before deciding not to even question the fact that an eleven year old is with the BAU.

Whilst the others are doing the profile, dr reid comes over to me and asks "so why do you like profiling? Not many kids are that interested in it."

"I do like profiling but it was more as a way to get my dad's attention, doctor. I know Jack is my parents favourite but I still like when they give me some attention" I answer, I know I seem petty but I can't help it.

"Well, you should know that Hotch is proud of you. Do you know how much he bragged when you won the Bard in your first year of middle school? Or how he was excited about you liking profiling like him?" dr reid lists.

"Or how he kept laughing at how excited you were to dress as spider-man when you went to your school dress up day after the teacher asked which princess you were going to be" he sad as we laugh at the memory of six year old me.

"Dr. Reid, don't tell them this but I want to be a profiler and I've only told you this because it gives me more of a chance as telling less people gives you higher motivations" I confess to him.

Reid smiles at me, saying "you know I miss Gideon". "So do I, he was my role model when I was younger and it even affected my favourite flavour of ice cream being mint chocolate chip" I mention, laughing slightly.

"Yeah, him and Hotch have always been like my bau dads, that now he's gone it feel different" he said and I can't help but feel bad because I knew how close they were from the way Gideon talked.

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

By the time I get home after the case, I'm somehow only slightly tired. Haley has already gone to bed while my dad put on the tv for a bit so I decide to go to the kitchen for something to eat.

Whilst we watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off and ate mint chocolate chip ice cream, I can't help but smile at the fact other than the cases he's done this is the closest we've ever actually been to doing anything together.

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

Taglist -

@lovelyweaslxy

#lucia one shots #bau x teen!reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #teen!reader imagines

263 notes · View notes

choosing-criminalminds · 3 years

Text

One More Time

Summary: Their love was years and years in the making, and even when prison quickly builds back up the walls they worked so hard to break down, Spencer learns just how strong the foundation of their trust is.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader(ish) -> told mostly in the 3rd person, from Spencer’s POV

Category: angst (?)

Warnings: mentions of character death (Maeve, Gideon), mentions of blood (Maeve’s death), slight panic/anxiety, language -> let me know if there are any more to add!

Also, un-beta’d, we die like the trash we are.

Length: 5.6k

A/N: Okay yeah so first post. So…this turned out much longer than expected? This is for Ellie’s ( @spenciebabie ) writing contest/celebration and goodness I’m so nervous because I’ve barely written, much less posted, anything in years. Anyway, I guss I decided to challenge myself to write this? I hope you guys like it?

Also, if anyone wants a new friend, please hit me up because I’m too shy to say hello myself.

Prompt was: “Why don’t you make me?”

-*-*-*-

“Trust has to be earned, and should come only after the passage of time.”

—Arthur Ashe

-*-*-*-

For all his genius, Spencer didn’t know what to make of the fact that he found himself inexplicably drawn to her.

It wasn’t until years down the line that he realized he had been exceptionally aware of her since they met, carefully observing, cataloguing the way she so gently and kindly defied every expectation and pushed past every preconceived notion he had of her. By then, she had already settled in a little corner of his heart and helped seal the cracks in his life that he didn’t even know existed.

But when she first joined the team as an intern, he was more than a little reluctant to get to know her. It was during the summer between her college graduation and the start of her graduate studies, and she seemed too worldly, too perfect. She wasn’t like the girls from high school, or even college, for that matter, who were simply mean. On the contrary, she was wonderfully polite and incredibly ambitious, intelligent, and very much the type of girl that was far too out of his league, one that wouldn’t spare him a second glance before continuing down whatever focused path she was on.

That’s why he planned to avoid her as much as possible her first day in the office. She had, thankfully, spent the morning in Hotch’s office, since he was her official supervisor, but when he saw them about to emerge right before lunch, he panicked, muttered a random excuse, and shuffled out of the bullpen, leaving a bemused Derek and Elle in his wake.

It didn’t help that he was ducking out of rooms while JJ was giving her a quick tour and making introductions, and almost every member of the team had cornered him, encouraging him to talk to her, to befriend her due to their closeness in age. (“She’s only what? Two-ish years younger than you?” When he mumbled that exact date, Penelope had broken into a large, wicked grin, poking him teasingly in the cheek. Gratefully, she held back any further comment.)

Spencer had blinked, a little surprised, when Penelope Garcia, who generally disliked change, had only good things to say. Remarkably humble about her achievements, and not in the standoffish fake way, Penelope commented after admitting she had run a background check on her. Genuine, and quite sweet.

Polite, Derek had said, if a little quiet, trying to see where she fits in the team dynamic. You should reach out, be a friend, he suggested.(Spencer ignored the very pretty slipped somewhere in the comment, as well as the knowing smile shot his direction when he felt his cheeks flushing.)

A surprisingly wicked sense of humor, was all Elle said with a sly smile. (Spencer chose to ignore that too.)

And when Spencer tentatively asked the man, Jason Gideon, a man of generally few words, had spoken of her, however briefly, with surprising fondness, because of course Gideon had met her when she was a child, because of course her uncle now headed legal three floors up, and of course her uncle was the last third of the BAU’s Holy Trinity, of which Gideon and Rossi were a part of.

You’ll get along very nicely.

Spencer was incredibly intimidated, to say the least.

And then when he couldn’t avoid her anymore (because of course they were desked next to each other), all it took for her was noticeably catching herself from extending a hand, then offering a small little wave and a nervous smile to leave him breathless. (He pointedly ignored the look knowing look JJ shot him.)

He tried to stifle the little seed of hope—that she definitely wasn’t interested in him, and her saccharine smile was nothing more than a false front to make a positive impression during a lucrative FBI internship meant only to bolster her resume—but the resolve crumbled quickly. She turned out to be so genuinely kind and sweetly humble that Spencer cursed the fact that the internship lasted only through that summer.

It also certainly didn’t help, either, that the very first thought he had when meeting her was a single word.

Pretty.

-*-*-*-

It was almost ridiculous how well she got along with everyone in the office.

She clearly made it a mission to make the most of the time she had and was more than willing to put in the work and prove her worth. Although she was technically Hotch’s intern and her main role was to assist the core field team, Spencer watched as she managed to get on absolutely everyone’s good graces through a combination of unassuming charm, sharp wit, and willingness to learn and to help that was so uniquely her.

For Spencer, it meant that she happily listened to what he had to say, encouraging him to continue when appropriate or saving a quiet question for later when it wasn’t. When she told him that she enjoyed listening to him talk, Spencer was taken aback, stuttering as he tried to figure out if she was only saying that to be polite. She gave him a gracious smile, ensured that she “quite honestly enjoyed” listening to him, and proceeded to ask a few well-timed and well-pointed questions to smoothly nudge him back to their previous topic.

Spencer stared at her, slack-jawed, then smiled bashfully, and allowed himself to hope.

(He definitely didn’t know what to do with the fact that when she knowingly reached out to his hand resting on the table and lightly tapped the back of his hand, he didn’t have his typical knee-jerk desire to pull away. He also mostly certainly didn’t know what to do with the fact that when her thumb grazed over his knuckles to sooth the tension he didn’t even realize he had, he felt an inexplicable calm ease into his very bones.)

-*-*-*-

“It’ll take a good five, six years to finish my J.D./Ph.D., but Hotch offered me an open invitation to join the team when I do, and I’m more than inclined to take his offer when the time comes.”

Spencer peered at her, breathing out a sigh of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. It was the last day of her internship, and she was making the rounds to say her thank you’s and goodbyes individually to the members of the team. He was the last one, and he had been dreading the conversation the entire day.

While he wouldn’t describe what he felt for her as anything beyond a genuine, platonic friendship—in the grand scheme of things, they’d only known each other for ten weeks—their easy companionship had become very dear to him. And he was terrified and nervous that her time with the BAU would be just a small chapter in her life before she moved on to the bigger and better things, leaving him behind as a fond but distant memory.

She laughed softly at his surprise, before it trailed off into a sigh. She then took a deep breath and asked. “Do you trust me?” Spencer looked at her, a bit dumbfounded. Did he trust her? Her gaze was heavy on him and the question weighty, a gentle demand for an honest answer. Did he trust her? Yes, he did, he supposed, they were friends. Right? He breathed in deeply, squared his shoulders just a bit, and answered in the affirmative.

As if she sensed his hesitance, his unease, she gave him a knowing look and took one of his hands into hers, fingers brushing over fingers, before hooking her pinky around his. “Because I promise you, Spencer Reid, I’ll be back, right here. You’ll be waiting for me, yeah?”

He looked at her in awe, the dim light of the nearly-empty office reflecting off her kind eyes. Warmth spread through his chest, and she smiled so brilliantly that he nearly forgot to breathe, to answer. To answer. He smiled back, twitchy, introspective, and considered the weight of her question. He nodded and responded simply.

“Always.”

-*-*-*-

She managed to remain on the Bureau’s consulting payroll over the next several years, though she was primarily based in the Bay Area as she finished her graduate studies at Stanford. The team as a whole still went to her for a fresh perspective when needed; she video called in to help on cases when necessary and met up in person if a case called them to California.

He knew that she kept in touch with JJ, Penelope, and Derek, and that Hotch and Emily (whom she met shortly after Emily joined the team and a case brought them to LA) were also friendly, if professional, contacts. Spencer himself was known to receive the odd phone call from her.

However, what had Spencer almost covetously pleased was that they had something they shared exclusively between the two of them, because she had steadfastly kept her promise to write to him.

-*-*-*-

Her letters were as beautiful as they were constant, and Spencer handled and read each one with care.

Her handwriting suited her; while it generally was neat and clear little scrawl, he knew it would get a little freer, and little loopier when she was tired, if she was particularly excited, or if she found herself a bit tipsy. (And yet she still managed to always write in an almost perfectly straight line even on a blank sheet of paper. He was envious, and when he told her as such, he could hear the laughter in her response as she wrote it a little more wobbly than usual.) And while he knew her to be tilted more on the quiet, introverted side of the scale, she had a way with the written word, each phrase poetic and thoughtful.

And they were remarkably therapeutic to write in return, Spencer found. Their initial letters mostly consisted of light banter about their mutual and individual interests, updates on the progress of her research (sprinkled amusing tidbits of her exasperation and frustration), bits and pieces about his cases and updates on and amusing anecdotes about the team.

However, over time, he slowly opened up to her, about his fears, his hopes, his dreams. And when he hesitantly divulged bits and pieces about the drugs, his mother, the headaches, he felt the relief in his entire body when she responded with empathy and grace. In turn, she did the same. She was vulnerable, she was open, and as wonderful and quite near perfect as he knew her to be, he was pleased to find her so incredibly human.

Those letters he slowed down to read, committing them to memory with more intention.

(He kept her letters in the drawer of his desk at his apartment, and eventually moved them to a specially designated box when he needed more room. When he learned that she did the same, he couldn’t help the tender warmth that fluttered in his chest. He still didn’t know what to do with the feeling.)

-*-*-*-

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

It took six years, and an additional five months at the Academy (and then another few weeks as she was introduced to the legal team, with whom she would also be working with in her role as legal liaison), but she kept her promise and found her way back to the BAU, and it was like she was never gone.

This time, in her re-introduction to the team, she was a breath of fresh air.

When she approached him individually with a nervous smile, she reached out, then hesitated, and a sense of déjà vu washed over Spencer. But then, she had placed a hand on his elbow, and when she smiled, he breathed in a sense of peace and familiarity, of comfort.

“You waited.”

He smiled back, and in a rather forward gesture on his part, he adjusted so he could take the hand on his arm into his.

“Always.”

-*-*-*-

She was too good for him.

Whatever relationship they had—Spencer didn’t know what to call it, though friendship seem too trivial of a word for it—he knew it was too good, too perfect to last.

Because in a cruel twist of fate, her first case back on the team, however unofficial it was, was Maeve.

He was hyperaware of the neutral expression on her face when he finally brought his fears to the team. To anyone else she would seem serene and put together, but to him the slight sag in her shoulders and the realization transitioning to acceptance were clear as day. Spencer never mentioned Maeve to her in their letters, but later, in retrospect, he believed she had an inkling, at the very least. You seem happier, she had written, once, not too long after he first became acquainted with Maeve, and that makes me happy.

Did it? Then he didn’t want to know what his misery would do to her because then, Maeve died, and in his grief over another woman, he fought desperately to push her away.

She could share his happiness, but he refused to let her share his pain, his brokenness. She did not deserve that, and he would not be the one to destroy the beauty and sunshine and hope she brought everywhere with her.

But when they finally took Maeve’s body away, and when the blurred commotion of sirens and law enforcement and emergency services and constant hammering of half-hearted condolences and check-ins finally died down, he felt the blanket around his shoulders be adjusted, and a now-familiar pair of hands take in his own, firm, and refusing to ever let go. Thumbs traced over his knuckles as soothingly as he remembered, and only then did he begin to vaguely process the fact those hands had been tucked into his almost the entire evening, anchoring him through the haze and the fog.

As if on cue, she squeezed his hand gently, like she knew exactly when he was slowly becoming aware of her presence, and he suddenly found he lacked the strength to do what he initially intended.

Still dazed, he felt her shift, and she was kneeling on the ground in front of him where he sat on the curb, and softly drew him into a hug. Any form of resistance he previously had dissolved; he clung to her, tears stinging his eyes once again.

It’s okay, I’m here, I’ll stay, she whispered, I’ll stay, always and always.

Just don’t push me away.

“I-” His voice cracked. “I loved her.”

He paused, his voice weakening.

“I love her...”

Hands ran soothingly through his hair.

“I know.”

She always did.

“…so much.”

He didn’t need to see her face to realize that she was crying with him, for him—he could feel her trying to contain the trembling in her chest, trying desperately to remain composed. He tried to do the same, but when she tilted her head and let him bury his face into her neck, Spencer finally felt fresh tears begin to flow, and he allowed her to take his face into her hands and chase the tears with her fingers.

And Spencer wept freely, first for death of the woman he loved, and then for the tears and the grief he caused the one person he could call his kindred spirit, his soulmate.

-*-*-*-

He healed, slowly.

There were good days, when the thought of Maeve did not stir up memories of blood and fear and gunshots but, rather, of auburn hair and admiration and hushed conversations on the phone. On those days, he felt like he was no longer haunted by a ghost and could finally begin to move on. On those days, he could slow down, appreciate the small things again, and focus on how a pair of familiar, steady hands pulled him out of the past, anchored him in the present, and allowed him to hope about the future.

But then there were the bad days when her touch scalded and burned his skin. The warmth and the pulse of blood rushing through her veins and the germs on her hands and her life was overwhelming because Maeve was dead and cold and gone. So, with every glare and with every sharp comment aimed at where he knew it would hurt, he finally made good on his desire to push her away.

It was on those days the bitter voice in the back of his mind whispered how it was supposed to be Maeve, not her, there alive with him, holding his hand as they faced the world.

It was also on those days he chose to disregard the regret that settled in the pit of his stomach each time he heard his own biting voice, and disregard the horror brought on by even thinking of wishing she were dead instead. He began to ignore the tremble in her hands when she reached out to him and brushed her fingers against his in concern, and he ignored how she gradually began pulling back, hesitant, nervous that her touch would be unwarranted, unwanted. He certainly ignored the unconscious flex in his hand, the ache for the reassurance and comfort he had become so accustomed to—

He ignored it all until he woke up, one night, to an empty bed, and a sudden surge of panic rushed through his body and bile rose in his throat. She was right there, when he fell asleep, giving him a small smile and nod when he asked if she could read to him, to stay the night. Now, without a word, she was gone, she was gone, shewasgone and Spencer could feel the tightness in his chest and tears sting his eyes when realized that the only one to blame was himself, himself, himself.

Why, he thought bitterly, why was he like this? Why must he try to push away every good thing in his life?

But then, there he stood, barely aware of the tears on his cheeks and ice running through his veins, as he found her curled up on his couch, franticly wiping away her own silent tears and exhaustion from her eyes. He stumbled forward, upset, upset at himself because he made her cry again. And when she flinched when he cradled her face in his hands, apologizing to him, he nearly choked back a sob, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe away the tears that did not belong on her face.

Neither of them went back to sleep that night, and Spencer began to realize just how strong she was, as she gently told him through her tears the hard truths of his situation and where she stood in relation to him.

I can’t fight with a ghost, she had murmured hoarsely, but I can work with her legacy and her memory.

And then, with a pinky wrapped around his, she promised that she would be there to help him through it, but the only way was if, and only if, he let her.

It was that night (or, rather, morning, as the sun rose) that he began to come to terms that, whether he deserved it or not, she—and her pure and unadulterated goodness—was more or less a permanent fixture in his life, and he felt more at peace than he had in ages. And when the early rays of sunlight filtered through his windows and caught her in a soft glow, he found himself once again in awe. He reached out, hesitantly, and his heart soared when he felt the familiar pressure of her hand slipping into his.

She was steadfast and loyal and strong. She was brave, she was patient, she was kind. Moreover, she was alive, she was breathing, and she was here, present, by his side. It took time, and more painful conversations and more painful realizations, but eventually, the good days were a bit more consistent, the sun just a bit brighter, and his breathing a just bit freer with her hand pressed firmly into his own, her pulse thrumming beneath his fingers until his heartbeat synced with hers.

And Spencer was finally learning, learning about what to do with the fact that with her by his side, he felt like he could truly face the world.

-*-*-*-

Face the world he did.

When Gideon died, he felt his hand twitch, and the compulsion to escape and hide tugged at the back of his mind, and an old, nearly forgotten itch made its way from the crook of his elbow, slowly ebbing into in his veins and nagging in the crevices of the back of the mind.

But when he felt her hand slip into his, he felt it abate, the tension in his muscles eased. When her lips twitched into a knowing, gentle smile, he could see the underlying grief and frustration. Of course. She had known Gideon just as well as he did, if not better.

He breathed deeply and smiled back. It was weak, it was twitchy, and it was sad, but it was a smile, nonetheless. He wasn’t in this alone.

-*-*-*-

They were seated on a large blanket in a secluded park in D.C. on one of their rare days off when she pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, and suddenly it seemed like all the right pieces finally fell into place.

And when she whispered those three little words, and everything made sense. He looked up from where he laid, and again he was breathless at how the setting sun caught in her hair and reflected off her skin and her eyes. But then, when he opened his mouth to respond, the same three little words caught in his throat and his breath hitched, and he wanted to cry. He wanted to respond, to let her know that her feelings were returned, but the words failed him.

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, and he trembled as he felt her hands cupping his face and fingers gracing over his cheekbones, “if you don’t reciprocate; I’ll live. But I just wanted to let you know–know that I’ll be by your side no matter what happens.”

It wasn’t until they were at the door of her apartment, when he found the strength to push past the nerves and respond.

“I do re-reciprocate, and I want–I want to say it, because I do,” he stuttered out, “but I just…don’t know how to say it yet.”

He suddenly felt like a prepubescent schoolboy, nervous and quaking and terrified. But then, magnetic as she was, she brought his gaze back to her face, and her knowing smile breathed air back into his lungs. His heart blossomed, and the fingers rubbing circles into his hand anchored his attention on her. “Then I’ll wait until you can. Always. Forever.” She paused. “Do you trust me?”

Spencer peered up at her, brows furrowed. Unbidden, the memory of the first time she asked him the same question floated to the front of his mind, and he couldn’t help the breath of amusement. The question caught him off guard, but this time, when he found his voice it was resolute, quick, and sure.

Yes.

He felt a pinky hook around his, and the now-familiar warmth bubbled in his chest.

“Good, because it’s a promise I intend to keep.”

This time, the tears her fingers caught were those of appreciation and relief.

-*-*-*-

And then, the sun set, and prison happened.

-*-*-*-

At first, it was easy to ignore.

Prison changed him. He knew it did, and he knew that she wasn’t naïve to the fact either. He was a bit harder, a bit more defensive, and while he tried his best not to show it, he knew she could see the darkness had just a little bit more of an edge. He was well aware of how she watched him just a bit more closely.

It seemed alright at first. It took a while for him to adjust; there were certainly bumps and bruises along the way, along with some admittedly choice words exchanged in frustration, but that was expected.

But he supposed it was the small things, and small things add up.

The first week her hand naturally slipped into his like nothing’d changed, but his grip was tighter and more desperate than normal, like she’d disappear or slip through his fingers if he didn’t. At the same time, he was also too terrified to touch her otherwise, as if she’d break like glass if his grip on her waist was just a bit too tight.

She never commented, gave him space, and allowed him to initiate physical contact.

She didn’t need to know, he rationalized, it wasn’t her burden to bear.

Then he began to hold her at arm’s length. She pushed, gently, and he pushed back, harder. He knew she was only trying to help, but he needed to figure it out for himself, lest he hurt her again. She only sighed, and relented. While her concern was apparent with how she watched him with just a little more unease, she gave him space.

However, while she was an exceptionally patient person, there was only so much distance and space one could handle. When she reached out, worried, and pressed just a little harder, he withdrew completely, and his rationalization slowly evolved. Stop hovering. Don’t need you treating me like I’m broken. Don’t need your pity.He ignored the pain that flashed in her eyes, the quiet desperation in her voice whenever she called after him after he refused to listen, and the increasingly familiar ache in his entire body when he began to avoid and refuse her touch.

It was the small things, because when the nightmares started, it wasn’t so easy to ignore.

-*-*-*-

“—eathe, Spencer. That’s good, breathe.”

The mumbled affirmations continued as he slowly processed his surroundings.

Queen-sized bed. Egyptian cotton sheets. Breathe in. Goose-feather down pillows. A firmer memory foam pillow that smelled of her shampoo. Breathe out.

Safety.

He was still bleary-eyed when he sunk back down, burying half his face in the pillows and ashamed as he mumbled a quiet apology. Her voice was kind, understanding, telling him it was alright as she tucked a stray lock of curls away from his face. When he seemed to settle back down, her hand gentle rested on his jaw, thumb absently tracing his cheekbone.

“Do you want to talk—”

“No.”

She frowned, sighed, took a moment to flick on the lamp light and collect her thoughts; he could see, through his lashes, the gears turning in her head about how to proceed. Meanwhile, he heaved a sighed, and sat up against the headboard. His eyes closed, doing the same as her. She then reached out, touched his hand, grazed her thumb over his knuckles and drew circles on the back. It started slow, hesitant—she was surprised that he didn’t recoil, and frankly, so was he—but the motion was familiar, grounding, so he let her continue. He knew it helped her focus as well.

“Spence, you’re…you need to talk to someone—it doesn’t have to be me! But bottling it up all inside, it’s clearly tearing you apart.”

“I agreed to start talking with my therapist, haven’t I?”

His voice was flat, defensive.

“But you haven’t, and…knowing you, you won’t be telling them the whole truth.” His jaw tightened and his lips pursed, his hand gripping the sheets flexed, and he looked away from her, intently staring at a random point in the room that wasn’t her. As always, she seemed to know him far too well.

She let out a breath of a sigh; she knew he was beginning to shut her out again. Her free hand lifted to his shoulder, rested in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve told you before, that you’ve started to shut people out. I know–I know you’re so, so strong, but you don’t have to face it alone. You don’t need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders; we’re not as fragile as you seem to think we are.” She paused, contemplating. “If you need someone with distance that you can trust, call Derek, call Hotch, even, but remember, Spence, I made you a promise: I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

When he didn’t answer, still staring off into the mid-distance, she sighed.

“I’ll leave, give you some space. Think about it.”

She was at the bedroom door when he finally cleared his throat and responded. His voice was bitter as he bit out: “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

A quiet ‘wha–’slipped from her lips as she angled toward him as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

“If you want to leave, fine. You seem to be doing that quite well recently. The door’s right there and you don’t have to come back until you want to make me a charity case again. But if you want me to talk, if you think you can handle it, then be my guest. Take a seat and why don’t you make me?”

He instantly regretted the words, but some dark part of his mind as pleased that he could see the anger and annoyance spark through her as she inhaled deeply and slowly turn around to face him in full. “I will if that’s what it will take.”

Spencer’s gaze hardened.

“You don’t have the fucking guts.”

A brief moment passed as she took him in full, eyes flashing. Spencer raised his gaze, challenging, daring her, and then, the same, shadowed part of his mind was savagely happy that he had finally gotten a rise out of her, because she bit back with venom.

“Fucking try me.”

And then, he watched her warily as she visibly froze, then deflate, her jaw tightening and eyes welling with unshed tears as she stumbled backward to the door.

“But–but not like this. Not like this. I’m–I’m so sorry you didn’t–you don’t deserve…” Her voice was quiet, but it was hitched with a swirl of emotions Spencer couldn’t pinpoint, and he was suddenly aware of the hot tears dripping down his cheeks. “I’m going–I’m going to go…” He heard the doorknob turn, and suddenly the sound of gunshots rang in his ears, and he could the taste the metallic bitterness as blood and dead brown eyes filled his vision.

Wait. Wai- She was halfway out the door when he called out, voice cracking, and through blurred tears he saw her shut the door and shuffled and stumbled back into the room toward him, kneeling in front of him. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear the whispers of his name and the urgency of the apologies. And then his eyes fluttered closed when she reached up to brush the tears away, and the motion opened the floodgates. It was one of the many little touches they shared—thumbs wiping over cheeks and hands cupping faces—and he had half a mind to shove her aside, but dear God he hadn’t felt it in far too long; he leaned, almost desperately, into her touch and he could hear her sniffling back her own tears.

Fuck.

He was always like this.

His passive aggressiveness was his defense mechanism; he lashed out blindly whenever he felt vulnerable, not caring who he hurt and how much. It was something she had been helping him work through, and he thought he was getting better, but here he was, hurting her because of it again.

Not like this.

He barely noticed that she had pulled him into a tender hug, but now that he did process the warmth of her embrace seeping into his bones, he wanted to push it away. He didn’t – he didn’t deserve this but now she was pulling back, and it sent a brief course of panic through his body, a fear that she was pulling away, away from him, away from the darkness and shadows that loomed permanently over him. He wouldn’t blame her, but–but…oh.

Her eyes always spoke volumes for her, and now that she had firmly tilted his chin up, her gaze firm, resolved.

“I know you are feeling vulnerable, and I know that you believe you can do this on your own.” She breathed in deeply. In turn he gazed up at her through his tears, as evenly as he could, and she met it without wavering. “You are strong, Spencer Reid, so, so strong, been so for so long. But…but I made a promise that I would always be by your side, and I’m never going to break it. So please.” Her voice hitched, and his breath caught in his throat. “Please, trust in me, one more time. Just one more time.”

Moments ticked by to the time of his heartbeat before he finally nodded, and the relief and the elation in her eyes soothed the dull pain inside his heart. This time, he drew her into his arms and into his lap and sighed as he leaned into the crook of her neck.

Thank you.

I love you, too.

-*-*-*-

“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.”

—Maya Angelou

-*-*-*-

#spenciebabiesficcontest #joy's writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

124 notes · View notes

mostlymaudlin · 3 years

Text

wip ______day

i havent done a wip thing in a bit bc ive been stupid busy and my writing has been messy and not very snip-able. but i just found this thing i was working on a while ago that exists in the nothing equals the splendor universe (aka gbbo au). the working title is "instagram husband" which makes me laugh. no spoilers for the fic except that like ya... simon and baz end up together. big surprise lmfao.

thx to everyone whos been tagging me in things even tho i havent been sharing -- i always want to see ur stuff! here's some shep POV.

I lean over Baz’s shoulder as he scrolls through the photos he took, marking the best shots with a heart so he can find them later.

“These are great,” I say. “You’re a good photographer.”

“I’ve got an easy subject,” Baz says, smirking. Simon has stopped paying attention. He’s trying to choose between a purple bowling ball and a black one with silver sparkles.

“Actually, Simon usually looks like shit in photos.” I say it loudly enough for Simon to hear. He looks over his shoulder, laughing. “He’s always doing a weird thing with his eyes. Or moving so much that he’s blurry.”

“Penny says I’m made to be seen in motion,” Simon says, lining up at the top of the lane. “That’s why she thought television would be good for me.”

Baz tilts his head to the side, considering. Then he opens up the Instagram app and puts the camera on the Boomerang function. He starts recording as Simon winds up, capturing the moment Simon releases the ball in a smooth, repeating loop. It looks sick — the flashing neon lights of the bowling alley catch in Simon’s hair and in the sparkles on his ball. His eyes are determined, but his lips are quirked up in a little smile.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Simon pouting up at the scoreboard. He didn’t get a strike this time. Good. That was starting to get freaky. But Baz and I are ignoring his mini tantrum, transfixed by the Boomerang looping back and forth on his phone.

“Penelope Bunce is a genius,” Baz says, saving the Boomerang and starting a new post on Simon’s account. I smile, patting him on the shoulder.

“Cheers to that.”

anyway, i was reminded of this because i'm writing a different scene where baz takes simon's photo rn. and also im soft for bake off universe, so even tho i don't think i'll get to finishing this for a while (there's a tricky bit of the narrative that i don't have the inspiration to fix yet), i wanted to give these versions of the characters some love n appreciation haha

tagging some ppl whose enthusiasm for this verse kept me going when i was working on this fic hahaha - @tea-brigade @urban-sith @palimpsessed @sillyunicorn @knitbelove @facewithoutheart i lov u all dearly

#my writing #simon is really fucking good at bowling guys #and baz sucks :)

20 notes · View notes

klarolineashur1919 · 2 years

Text

Part 2

Jan 1, 1919

When we first met

Penelope pov:

"La signora Changretta è qui?" I heard something, but I don't speak Italian and I rarely am spoken to here, so I ignored it. Maybe they're not talking to me. Hopefully they're not talking to me.

"Ehi signorina è la signora Changretta qui?" Please go talk to Marta. Usually, people know not to talk to me here or just don't. Sometimes when people talk to me in Italian here, I talk back in Romani. Pol said not to make friends here but to be aware of things. That was like the rule if I was to work here. Don't get close to anyone. So, I just kept organizing the pins and supplies.

"Hey miss are you deaf?" yeah I have to turn around now. When I did I wish I didn't. I don't usually look at boys or men I should say. Ada likes to tease me saying I fancy girls, which I sometimes believed because I've never really found any man attractive until now. The minute I saw him there was just something about him I found attractive. Maybe it was his presence, it reminded me of Tommys for some reason. I always thought I wanted to find a guy like my brother Tommy. Having that kind of head on their shoulders. I starting to realize he was staring but when I realized he was, I realized I was too.

''You don't speak Italian, do you?" I slightly shook my head no. His body language looked like he owned the place. He was obviously a gangster. I know the look now.

"Is Mrs. Changretta here?" I again shook my head no. He was a well dressed gangster. He looked like a businessman. A rich one, I could tell from the fabric of his suit and the rings on his fingers.

"Do you know where she is?" I shook my head again no. I started to look at his hands instead of his face, I thought it would be less intimadating, but I was wrong. His tattoos I hadn't seen those types of tattoos before. I really haven't seen many tattoos before now that I thought about it.

"Do you know if she's going to stop by?" He started to tilt his head to the side down trying to get my attention back to his face, I shrug my shoulders.

"Yes or no?" he's going to make me talk isn't he. He's smirking too. I don't understand why.

"S-she usually stops by once a day but it's never a certain time" I say very softly. I hate speaking English for some reason I like Romani better. He nods, he looks like he about to take off his hat. I don't want him to stay.

"B-but t-there are times when she doesn't come in though" I sounded like I yelled the last part just trying to get it out god sakes get yourself together Penelope.

"Well if she comes in will you tell her Luca came by, her son" I just nod and realize I was fidgeting with my fingers. I don't even want to know how long I was doing that. I thought about Mrs. Changretta had mentioned him to me and the more I think about it she's mentioned him to me very often.

"You have a good day miss" His accent showed as he said that tipping his hat to me.

The side of my mouth moved up a little to smile and nod him goodbye. I went to the window just to watch him leave. He really walked like everywhere he went he owned but this was Changretta territory after all so I guess he did own this area. But he had a humble way about himself. How he tipped his hat to women as he walked by and he said excuse me to this one guy who wasn't watching where he was going. My brothers probably would have beat up that guy. He was a gentleman. I never really met a gangster who was a gentleman like Arthur tries but I don't know this man was interesting. Funny though as I was watching him I starting to drift off in my thoughts admiring his suit. Just working in a tailor shop you start to appreciate a well made suit. I didn't realize he wasn't moving anymore and he was watching me now. It took a minute to process he wasn't anymore maybe I thought he was waiting to cross the street. But the minute my eyes met his turned head toward me I jumped into the corner.

"Te kurel" I put my head into my hands absolutely horrified.

I hoped I never see him again but I knew for some reason that wasn't going to be the last of him in my life.

Translations:

Is Mrs. Changretta here?

Hey miss, is Mrs. Changretta here?

F*ck

#Luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #Luca changretta x shelby!sister #Shelby oc

28 notes · View notes

ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

Undercover - Chapter 1

Story Warnings: Smut, rape, mention of suicide, murder, domestic abuse, sexual assault, mention of abortion, addiction, torture, kidnapping.

Just a mention that these are serious topics and are not promoting anything and those topics are specifically for character development....

Chapter Selection

______________________________

I walk into the building and feel a rush of cool air. Dammit I wish I brought a sweater. When I walk into the office I get called by a man wearing a black suit with a red tie,

"Agent y/l?" I turned my head and walk over to the man that called my name; my Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. "Yes?"

"Can I see you in my office." He asked in a clam stern voice. I walked up to his door and walked inside.

He gestured for me to take a seat. "I see that you have a degree in criminology and criminal psychology."

"Yes sir." I started to rub my thump over my fingers. "Why the BAU", I couldn't read the emotions on his face. He was like stone. "I've always been interested in criminals and their behavior the why was the question I constantly asked myself when I'd see or read a story of a crime."

He doesn't say anything he just looks. His brows furrowed with his eyes focused on my body language.

"Okay", Hotch stands up and holds out his hand. I follow his movements and shook his hand. He walks out from behind his desk and walks to the railing outside. "I'd like to introduce you to Agent y/n y/l."

A crowd of 6 people came around from all over the bullpen. Hotch pointed to all the people; "This is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, and Penelope Garcia,"

We all made conversation about how it was at the BAU and the types of cases they had gotten in the past. They were quick to disperse having paperwork to do. Hotch showed me to my desk and Garcia helped me get familiar with the system.

"Hey you need some help." Morgan approached me. "I'm already in the system and I have nothing to work on." He looks a me.

"I can show you around the building if you want; I'm already done my paperwork and I don't get off till 5 so." I shrug I've got nothing better to do.

JJ walked into the bullpen with a file at hand, "We've got a case." Everyone files to the round table taking a seat. Emily looks around taking notice at y/n and Morgan's absence, "Where's y/n and Morgan."

"He took her on a tour of the building, he was done his work." Reid says.

Me and Morgan were walking back into the bullpen when we notice everyone at the round table.

Hotch gave Morgan a disappointing look and showed me no emotion. "Don't be late. Garica." He wanted her to start.

Garcia starts ,"16 yr old Julia Martin went missing in Georgetown, Delaware Tuesday night at 10:32pm. She goes to Sussex Central High School, she is a sophomore and keeps to herself, she has a few close friends. She doesn't go out very often."

Now it's common knowledge that with cases like these it's time sensitive. "Wheels up in 30", We all head out to get our go bags, getting into the SUVs and heading to the jet.

We start to go over the case again. Hotch starts, "Prentiss, Morgan and I will go to the police station to set up, Reid and JJ go talk to the family.

Y/N you're with Rossi I want you guys to go to the school and talk to her teachers and friends."

The plane lands and we all get into the cars.

Rossi gets into the driver's seat. "So how do you like it so far." He continues to look at the road.

"It's great I've always wanted to be in the BAU since I was a kid." I look at Rossi, "Is Hotch always so serious?" He glances at me, "Most of the time but he'll warm up to you."

The rest of the car ride is filled with small conversation.

We get to the school and walk and start talking to her teachers. I asked "What was Julia like in class? Did she talk to anybody that she usually didn't and how were her grades?"

"She didn't really talk to anyone other than a few of her friends. I would try and help her to talk but she would end up doing the work independently even with a group and she would do all the work and as for her grades they were great. She was an A, B student for the most part."

The rest of the teachers said the same thing as the first.

"Okay so if nothing was going on at school and there were no suspicious people hanging around then they must have grabbed her at home."

I told Rossi as we walked back to the car. Someone caught our attention. There was a boy leaning against our car.

"Can we help you", Rossi asked. "I might know what happened to Julia, she was talking to this guy online... she might have mentioned that she was gonna meet up with him."

"Can you come by the station later we're gonna need to talk to you", I said and he agreed.

We drive back to the police station and the rest of the team is there. "So apparently Julia was talking to someone online and her friend thinks that's who might have taken her." Rossi says.

"And she's never met this guy. He doesn't even go to the same school according to her friend" I continue, "The friend's name is Kevin Philips and he's coming by tomorrow."

"Okay everyone we have a long day tomorrow let's get some rest." Hotch tells the team.

We go outside to the cars and drive over to the hotel. "There were only four rooms left so we're gonna need to share.

JJ and Emily I'm assuming you two are gonna share, Morgan and I will share so that leaves Hotch and y/n." Hotch stares at Rossi

"So you just get a room to yourself?" "Exactly." He walked off going to his room.

Of course.. "Are you ok with that, you can just share a room with JJ and I."

"No really it's fine." It wasn't fine. It was my first case and I sharing a room with my boss. Not just my boss but someone I found attractive.

Hotch grabs the key and we walk to the room. He walks in, drops his stuff on the chair and I just look at him then the bed. "What is it?"

"Um there's only one bed."

He looks at the bed and then the floor. "If it bothers you I can sleep on the floor I dont mind."

"No, it's ok, it's a large bed." He then turns around, grabs a towel and hops into the shower. I heat up our leftovers from lunch; I know he hasn’t eaten since this afternoon.

I put on some music and I start to change into a black crop top and grey sweatpants when he walks out of the bathroom.

I don't notice him at first but I can feel his eyes traveling up my body. I turned around and he's looking at me and I was staring at him.

He was buff, not ripped, but perfectly toned. You could clearly tell he had abs and a V line that went straight to..... I hadn't put on my clothes yet I was only in a black lace bra and some matching underwear.

He kept staring and I was too lost in thought to do anything about it. "I'm sorry", and he turned around and walked back into the bathroom out of embarrassment. "It's ok Hotch really."

"You sure." "Yes I'm sure." He walked back out with just the towel when I finished changing. While I was eating at one of the desks.

There was a mirror in front of me and I could see him perfectly. While I was chewing I could hear a faint voice. "y/n...y/n" I snapped to look up at his eyes through the mirror.

"Uhh you were staring." I didn't answer but I didn't have too. The brush rose to my cheeks and he could tell.

"You made my food?", "Yeah i knew you hadn't eaten so I figured."

Once I finished I turned off most of the lights as Hotch was still awake; I crawled under the covers and drifted off to sleep.

Aaron POV

I finished up eating the food she made me. I noticed the music she had on was still playing, the song was Brian Crain - Earth.

She was already sleeping...she looked so beautiful and peaceful. I turned off the music and crawled into bed. She didn't move and I went to sleep.

I woke up at 2am and her arms wrapped around my torso. Her head was laying on my chest; I slowly got up and went to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and saw the sweat through my shirt so I took it off.

I went back into bed and right as I put one foot in she grabs my hand and pulls me toward her.

I'm now laying next to her with my arm wrapped around her back with my hand on her waist. She pulls me closer to her, puts her head back on my chest, and put a hand at the base of my neck.

"Where'd you go", she whispered into my ear. I got chills that ran up and down my spine.

"I had to go for a second but I'm back now", my voice was soft and low almost a whisper as I didn't wanna wake her even more. It was nice, I did like her.

She nestles her head in the crook of my neck. I felt her breath on my body. We both just drift in each other's arms.

She's just so beautiful... everything about her. The dips and curves of her body to the sound of her voice.

I notice something though, the scars running down her back. Like someone had dragged a knife down it.

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

I woke up first again this time; it was 6am. I didn't wanna wake y/n so I just stayed in bed laying down looking at her.

This time she wasn't holding me, she was almost on top of me; I could feel her heart beat at a steady pace. Her legs were on mine, her face nestled into my chest and her arms around my body.

I put my hands on her holding her close. After about 10min she started to open her eyes. "Hey", I said with a soft tone. Surprisingly she looked at me and didn't visibly freak out but her heart rate was picking up, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip.

"How'd you sleep", I asked her and she looked down at my chest. "It was good", She said lazily. Y/N let out a loud sigh and got up into the bathroom.

The heat that was next to me started to fade away as her side of the bed got cold. I heard the shower turn on when I went to get some food.

When I came back she was out of the shower and dressed. "I got you some coffee." She took it from my hand and waited for me to get ready for work.

Y/N POV

Oh my god, I was sleeping on my boss....all night. I enjoyed it- he didn't get up when he saw me. Did he enjoy it too?

I get out of the shower and Hotch is gone. I started to get changed; I put on a white dress shirt and a black slacks with black heels. I hear someone knock at the door.

It was Hotch holding some coffee and two muffins. "I got you some coffee." He said holding it out.

I start eating my food and he started asking me questions. "So what made you wanna join the FBI?", that was one question I didn't really wanna answer right now.

"It was my sister for the most part but also the fact that basically my whole family was involved in the government."

"Why your sister?", He looked at me studying seeing how I was reacting. When he asked that question my heart sank into my stomach. "She-", I was trying not to cry; I took a big gulp.

"She was murdered when I was teenager, I was the one who found the body...It was a long time ago but it still hurts", tears started to fill my eyes and my face was getting red. I looked up for a moment trying to blink the tears away.

There was a flash of regret in his eyes, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get upset."

"No it's okay you didn't know." I was trying to hold it together clearly it wasn't working when he walked over to me, he put his arms around my waist and back and hugged me.

I was caught off guard by the sign of affection but I put my arms around him and hugged him tight.

"it's okay, I'm sorry." A few tears managed to escape from my eyes; they rolled down my face they were absorbed by his shirt. He cupped my face and wanted me to look at him.

He didn't say anything, he used his thumb to wipe the tears that were still falling from my face and hugged me again.

I started to calm down in his arms listening to his breathing. I felt protected, secure, and warm. Being in his embrace was like a shield; nothing else mattered.

Time skip

While waiting for Kevin to get here we all are gathered around talking. I walked over to Reid; he has his nose buried in a book, "Hey." He looked up at me. "Hey", "How's it going." I was getting a little nervous running my thumb along my other fingers.

He seemed to notice when his face softened a bit. "Good"

"Look I'm sorry in advance I'm not really good with conversation." I said as he stood up from the chair. "It's okay neither am I, I always worry if I'm saying too much or saying the wrong thing."

Knowing there was someone else on the team that was also awkward it was comforting. "Well since we'll be working together a lot how about when we finish this we go get a cup of coffee."

His shoulders eased and his eyes lit up. "Yeah I'd like that." I can tell the corners of his mouth were turning up and his cheeks were slightly pink.

Reid sat back down when I walked away he looked slightly disappointed but resumed reading. I was about to talk to Morgan but Kevin walked into the station.

JJ walked up to him, "Kevin?" He nodded. "Follow me", JJ brought him to a back office and sat him down. "Before Julia left did she say anything to you."

Kevin started, "I might be her best friend but she didn't tell me much only that she'd been talking to him for a few months and that he wanted to meet up with her. She said his name was Danny. He went to another high school but she didn't say which one, he was 17, and lived near Middletown or New Castle; I don't remember which. If it were up to her she wouldn't have told me at all, I was bugging her about it and she finally let it out."

Morgan called Garcia, "Hey baby girl, Do you think you can trace her phone?", then Garcia started talking "Honey if you don't think I can do that then your in for a surprise on what I can do." Morgan laughed. He's obviously the flirty one.

"Her phone is off best I can do is get the last known location....and that is in...New Castle Glasgow Park, its roughly an hour and 30 away." "Alright thanks babygirl"

"I'll call you back if it goes online." She ended the phone call and told the team.

Reid looked at Hotch, Morgan and I. "Either that's where they took her or she really didn't wanna get caught", I stated.

"Y/N and I will drive up there." Hotch glances at me and nodded his head towards the door.

The drive with Hotch was nice. We talked and I learned he had a brother in New York that works as a chef. His dad was a lawyer and his mom was a nurse. He likes dogs, Bon Jovi, and the beatles.

I told him more about my sister, how my mom was a Marine and my dad was a detective. I told him I liked the beatles, cold weather, and Elvis.

When we got to the park we noticed there was no one there, it was silent and secluded. "Walk with me", I tugged his hand gesturing to follow me. "Were on a case", "I know were just looking around."

His eyes looked down at my hand on his, I let go and my cheeks blushed, he took notice; the corners of his mouth turning upwards. There was no one else on the trail.

Trees surrounding the majority of the area. "What did you do.. ya know before this." As we were walking he averted his gaze from the ground to me. "Before the FBI?" I turned slightly. "Yeah", "I was a prosecutor."

I slowed my steps, "Why'd you stop, you were still putting the criminals away. Why'd you lose interest." He smiled a bit when he looked to the side to see me already looking at him.

"I don't know, I guess it was because I was tried of it. When those cases came to me they had already committed the crime. I guess I thought I wasn't doing enough. I wanted to get them before those cases reached my desk."

We were approaching some of the wooded pathways that broke of in two directions.

That's when we stopped, I walked in front of him and kept my eyes of the ground before looking up.

"Well sir congrats you were successful. I mean think of how many lives you've saved based on that one decision you made." His eyes softened and his face eased his shoulders dropped, he was relaxed.

"What's that", he points to the ground in front of one of the gates by the woods. I bend down and grabbed it, "It's a phone. Still has power, no password."

Hotch calls Garcia, "Hello sir what can I do you for." "Can you run a number for me...302-555-4276." After a few seconds and the sound of typing she speaks.

"The number is registered to a.. Julia Martin. Sir, that's her phone" Hotch ends the call.

"The phone was in front of the woods if you were taking someone to a public park to meet with them the woods would be an easy exit", He states.

Hotch gestures me to continue walking into the woods I look at him then the woods. "No you're going first", I put my hands up and he stares down and chuckles. "You scared?", I shrug and grin, "Maybe."

"Think about it in the movies where do the people go missing" I pause before continuing, "the woods and I'm not gonna be one of those people."

While he's stiffing a laugh I follow behind him. It's starting to get dark so we pick up the pace. We go on for 2 miles before I stop him, "Right there", I point to a broken house at a clearing.

I remove my gun, he takes the back while I stay in the front with my gun raised.

I hear Hotchs footsteps through the house, I walk in the front door; seeing nothing but broken chairs, torn wallpaper, and rotting wood. He signals me to go upstairs.

The floor creaking below me feeling like it's going to fall any second. I get to the top and check the rooms. There's a chair in the middle of the room, blood on the walls and clothes covering the floor but they are worn and discolored. They've been for awhile.

As I go back downstairs I fall through into the basement, "Fuck!". "Y/N what happened, are you okay." "I'm fine", I say strained. I slammed my back on the concrete knocking the wind out of me.

I hear something moving in the room with me. "Hotch there's something down here." I call out to him yelling in a whisper.

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x y/n #reader x aaron+hotchner #hotchner x reader #fanfic #criminal minds #aaron hotchner

160 notes · View notes

michaelwheelerseasontwosweaters · 3 years

Text

Classroom Romance

a byler fanfiction ; modern day teacher au

inspired by a @madcaprainbow prompt

WILLS POV:

today was my first day at hawkins highschool. i got a job offer to come work as a art teacher, who am i to say no!

ive always had a love for art, its my love language. it makes me happy for multiple reasons, not to mention it's relaxing.

i started walking down the empty hall to my empty classroom, quietly humming a queen song.

buzz buzz

i took my phone out of my mom jeans pocket and put my thumb on the bottom to unlock it.

my home screen was a picture of me and my step sister, Jane smiling and holding my childhood cat. Flower. Flower was a small, fluffy, orange cat that everyone adored.

I opened my text messages and saw a message from my mom.

mom💞🌍

hey sweetie! good luck on your first day at your new job!!!! to celebrate me and hop are having dinner tonight and Jonathan, and Jane is coming into town. are you gonna be able to come?

will

hi mom !! and i will be able to come to dinner, don't worry. what time? also tell hopper i say hi!

mom💞🌍

around 5:30 sweetheart.

hopper also says "hello will, nice hearing from you in technology world"

hes so old fashioned ❤️

will

bahaha, tell him its nice hearing from him too.

i wish i could keep talking but i have to go meet my future classrooms :)

i don't even have anything set up besides desks, art supplies and my desk.

mom💞🌍

very bland! but ill let you do what you do. see ya later sweetheart!

try and meet a man while your at it!

will

MOM!!!

i quickly turned off my phone and laughed. I saw my classroom that i walked to while texting my mother.

i opened placed my phone facedown on my desk and decided to get to work.

i grabbed a black marker and walked over to the small whiteboard and wrote welcome to art class in cursive. then i grabbed a small sign from my backpack and placed it on my desk.

MR BYERS // HE/HIM

i thought it was important to the students to know it's okay to express who you are and your identity. the kids im teaching are high schoolers, this is when they start learning who they are.

i hope to help with that.

i also grabbed the flag i had in my bag of decorations i brought and put it up on the other corner of the classroom from where the american flag is.

the bell rang and i decided i should stop decorating for today. i opened my door and sat on my desk.

kids started walking in and mumbling greetings. "hello everyone! please pick a seat somewhere, thank you." i explained as more and more kids starting piling in.

once everyone took a seat I stood infront of the class. "okay, welcome everyone to your first art class with me!"

~ ONE WEEK LATER ~

MIKES POV:

I walked down the stairs to the bottom floor and took a left. i pushed up my glasses as i kept reading my lesson planner.

i was out for a week because my mom was sick, shes finally getting a little better. her fever was 102.5! her girlfriend, penelope was out on a business trip, nancy was working at new york times and holly is with my dad so that leaves me.

apparently when i was gone a new art teacher got the job we needed someone to fill. my students say he's cool, nice and caring. i was finally going to meet him as i kept walking to his room.

.......105 band.....

......106 music......

......107 heath.......

i saw a man with slightly messy brown hair with paint and paint brushes all around him, sitting on the floor. he had dark green overalls over his white shirt, he was wearing dirty white high tops with frogs drawn all over them. he also was wearing silver butterfly earrings.

he was painting a door with the obvious Van Gogh sunflower painting. he was pretty. like really pretty.

"hey, your the new art teacher right? mr byers?" i asked him, trying not to startle the beautiful boy.

"oh hey! and yeah, i am. you are...?" he turned around to look at me with a large smile. he had yellow smudges of paint on his face and neck.

"im micheal wheeler, the history teacher." i introduced myself. "well hi michael, how come i haven't seen you yet? ive been here for a week." he asked.

"i took the week off, my mom was sick." i said, trying to hide the blush on my face. his face dropped and had a small frown on his face. "oh, i'm sorry... is she better now?" he asked.

"yeah, yeah. her girlfriend is taking care of her." i explained. i noticed the huge smile on his face at that. "that's, amazing. i'm glad shes doing better."

"well, i have to get going. grading papers and such...it was nice to meet you mr byers." i smiled. "please, call me will." he said.

"it was nice to meet you then, will." i smiled, again for the hundredth time during this interaction.

"it was nice to meet you too, mike."

~ TWO MONTHS LATER ~

over the two months mike and will have gotten closer. extremely closer. they even have been going out to dinner every other weekends. mike brings coffee for will everyday and their conversations linger longer than they should when mike is getting the high schoolers from art class.

they both know how they feel about the other one, but they won't do anything about it. will doesn't even know if mike is gay!

they've both have been walking on eggshells around each other. waiting for someone to make a move. but what they don't know is will isn't one to make a first move. but neither is mike.

their students were getting sick of the constant pinning their teachers were doing. so they decided to take matters to their own hands.

RECESS:

there was twelve kids sitting on the bleachers, their faces having a mix of being done and mischief.

"okay, so mr byers and mr wheeler obviously want to get in each other's pants so what should we do?" a strawberry blonde haired teenager said as she stood up infront of all of the other classmates.

she was wearing a black skirt, a vintage grandpa-style sweater, black fishnets and doc martens. her hair was up in a messy bun framing her face with some makeup on her face.

"let's think, lock them in a room together?" a boy suggested. he was wearing tan pants and a red polo. he also had black hair curled in prominent curls.

"that won't work, otis. they will probably talk about boring teacher stuff." a kid next to the boy, otis said.

they were wearing chunky boots and a dress like the one wednesday adams wore. they had black hair with a buzz cut.

"alex is right, they wont make a first move." a mixed girl on the top bleacher said. she was wearing a cardigan and mom jeans and her red -ish brown hair layed down to her back.

"so we will." the strawberry blonde haired woman confirmed.

AFTER SCHOOL:

will was cleaning up the papers on his desk when he saw a note with a heart on it.

weird.

he opened the envelope and read the note.

" dear will, my love is yours if your willing to take it. meet me at the field at 4:30 on the dot. I'll be waiting. love, your secret admirer. "

will felt his cheeks start burning up as he smiled so big his cheeks hurt. he had a secret admirer. someone liked him! he was over the moon and he started packing extremely faster.

what he didn't know was mike also got a note on his desk. he opened it and read it.

" dear mike, i feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love someone. meet me at the football field at 4:30 and I'll try and make you think that aswell. love, your secret admirer <3"

mike felt his heart grow five sizes bigger. he really hopped it was will who wrote this note, it probably was right? he likes van Gogh doesn't he?

the two men walked towards the football field, buzzing with excitement. mike got there first, waiting for his secret admirer to show up. will skipped towards the field to see mike looking nervous.

"mike..?" he asked, shocked.

"will! your the secret admirer?!" mike yelled in surprise. "no! you are!" will exclaimed.

"what..?" they both said in sync.

"shit this backfired." the girl with strawberry blond hair said behind the bushes. "god dammit! now what?" otis asked. "you know what, ill take care of this." alex said as she got up from hiding behind the bushes and ran over to them.

"alex?!" mike and will exclaimed as they saw her. "you two are idiots for teachers! your both so smitten for each other! just make out and get over with it!!!" they yelled.

"how many more are hiding behind the bushes?" mike sighed. the eleven other kids stood up sheepishly and will tried to contain his laughter.

"emma! ill call your parents!" mike threatened when he saw everyone. "no! don't!" the mixed girl from earlier screeched.

"im sure max and lucas would loooove to hear about you engaging in your teachers love life." mike said, putting his hands on his hips.

her face filled up with panic and she started running towards the parking lot. "kids, go before mr wheeler gives you all detention." will giggled and they all walked off leaving the two men with beat red faces.

"soo...you like me?" will asked catching mike off guard. "what! no! i mean, yes but it doesn't have to change anything. this isn't like perfessional but... i do like you but if you don't like me then totally ignore this. its completely fine and-" mike yelled before getting cut off.

will kissed him. mike was shocked at first but eventually kissed back. they pulled away after ten-ish seconds.

neither of them said anything.

they already knew.

22 notes · View notes

it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 3 years

Text

Going, Going, Gone (Spencer Reid x Reader) Chapter 5

Warnings: Mentions of death and injury/much angst

Word Count: 2k

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

-Spencers POV-

His heart stopped. There she was. Right there, if only he could climb through the screen and grab her, shielding her from further harm. He was angry, she looked so small, from what he could make out on the screen you were tied to a bed, bound by chains, blood and wounds scattered in different shapes and sizes over your almost naked body.

Spencer heard a gasp from behind him, turning he noticed JJ staring at the screen seeing exactly what he was. He didn’t have time to deal with peoples feelings, he just needed to figure out where his girl was and quickly. Emily had joined him back at the laptop.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was full of panic and hate. Then her eyes went wide when she heard Rossi’s voice travelling up the attic stairs.

“Spencer, did you find anything yet.” Spence turned to look at the man and then back at the screen, angling his body so it was in front of Rossi’s line of sight. Emily was trying to get him to go back down stairs but he was having none of it, pushing passed her to get to the source of the commotion. Spencer couldn’t bare to listen to the angry cries of his colleague, the angry, broken cries of a father. He was too focused on taking in everything he could, trying to look passed your broken and beaten down, still breathing body, to figure out if there was anything to lead them to you.

Spencer hit a button on his mobile, a direct line to Garcia who was anxiously waiting for anything back at her cyber lab.

“Go boy wonder what have you got for me.” Penelope’s joking voice faltered when Spencer informed her of their findings. He sent the video clip of Y/N over to Penelope to analyse further. Her voice quivering as she promised Spencer she’d be found.

Spencer took a look at the screen again, noticing marks up the algae covered walls. They were water marks, which told you how high the water sometimes flooded inside the building. He let Garcia know so she could narrow her search to a building that would be underground near water and it took her mere seconds to come back with a location.

“It’s an old underground bunker, the Unsubs father was some kind of doomsday preparation nut, it’s next to the Teal River, i’ve sent the exact location to your phones.” The team were out the door in seconds, hoping and praying that this is where they would find you alive. They needed to find you alive.

“Were coming for you sweetheart just hold on, were coming.” In that moment Spencer did something he never did, he prayed.

-Un-Subs POV-

“It’s almost time. Almost time to get rid of the girl. She put up a bigger fight than I thought she would. A few more stab wounds and cuts aught to do the trick, let her die slowly in her cell, die slowly just like my girl did. They will pay, they will all pay.”

-Your POV-

You coughed. You could hear that your breathing was getting worse and it felt like the air was slowly being sucked out of you. You knew you didn’t have long left. You would have liked to cry, feel sorry for yourself, for the fact that you’d never have a future with Spence, never see your father again and never see the team you called family again, but you were too dehydrated and your body couldn’t even function enough to produce a single drop. You slumped against the sticky cold wall, dry blood smeared across your face and in your hair. Your leg was still bleeding but you’d managed to stop it slightly by using some dirty cloth from the mattress you were sitting on. An infected leg was better than bleeding out.

Your eyes closed and you thought about Spencer. How his mind would be working over time trying to piece together the clues and find you before you met your demise. You wanted to believe they would find you in time but your hope was slowly fading away with your consciousness.

You thought about your father and how he’d been in the BAU for so long, founded it with your godfather Gideon, how it was basically his whole life, as well as you. You hoped that when you were gone he’d be able to move on, that he wouldn’t hurt for too long and hopefully one day he’d re-marry, god knows he could use a strong woman in his life after your mum died.

You thought about your friends.. family at the BAU. Your best friend Luke Alvez who treated you more like a little sister, always taking you under his wing and giving you advice even when you didn’t need it. You hoped he’d stay at the BAU, that if you died, it wouldn’t effect him too much and he’d be able to get back to some kind of normal life. You wish there was a way to tell him he could have your baseball card collection, he’d always wanted it. You laughed a little, a sad laugh, already grieving for the people you were going to lose. Thinking about all the things you still wanted to do in life. They say that when you die you life flashes before your eyes, they were wrong. It’s before that, it plays through your head like a movie, going over all the things you’d never get to see.

In your mind you pictured what your wedding day would be like. Spencer would want a small wedding full of close family and friends and you’d agree. The perfect setting your fathers large back garden, flowers everywhere, surrounded by the people you love. The gentle exchanging of rings and the kiss he would give you that would still make your toes curl even when you were old and grey.

Children. You wanted at least 4. You wanted so many children with Spencer because you knew he’d make the most amazing father, even if he’d be scared they’d carry the gene for schizophrenia. They’d have his curly hair and your eye colour, his calmness and his smarts while they had your artistic nature and kindness. They’d love to stay with Grandpa, who would tell them all kinds of stories of his time in the FBI, obviously leaving out the heavy stuff. Your friends would come over and you’d always have big dinners and get togethers, BBQ’s in the summer, your lives full of life and laughter and there would always be him. Right by your side. Your Spencer. You’d grow old together, still love each other as hard as you do now. Until your last breath. You pictured going out like the scene in the notebook, old and in each others arms. The world would always be right, if you had your Spencer Reid.

You could feel your breathing slowing, the sound of heavy footsteps running down the echoing corridor. It was too late. You were sure the Un-sub was coming to finish you off once and for all, leave you somewhere for your family to find, another body in another case the BAU would eventually solve. But it was too late for you. The door swung open and your eyes closed. The pain was gone and so were the chances of seeing your Spence one last time.

-Spencers POV-

The SUV’s came to a screeching halt outside the bunker. There was a gravelled path that lead towards the doors that were hidden behind shrubs. It was one of those lucky by chance things, the team arrived and the Un-sub was outside, about to go into the bunker. While Prentiss and JJ read him his rights and stuck him in the back of the car, Spencer, Rossi and Luke threw open the metal doors and made their way inside cautiously. Spencer wanted to throw all caution to the wind. Guaranteed the two other men he was with wanted to as well. All they wanted to do was get their girl back. But sometimes looks could be deceiving and more danger could be lurking up ahead. In this case, there wasn’t.

Spencer ran down the long echoing corridor, medics behind him. The cells were empty apart from one.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can you hear me? Were here Darling just hold on okay, i’m here baby i’m here.” Spencers voice was full of panic as the three men used all their strength to open the tightly sealed bunker door. Spencer could faintly see through the porthole door, the grime and condensation obstructing his view slightly. You weren’t moving. He started to panic even more and when the door hissed and flung open it was if the world was moving in slow motion.

You were pale, eyes closed, dry blood across your practically naked body. Dirty cloth wrapped around your blood soaked thigh and cuts littered your body in all shapes and sizes. One of your hands was handcuffed to a railing next to the rusty spring covered bed and you looked smaller than you’d ever looked before. Spencer was on you in seconds. Luke had bolt cutters and had snipped the handcuff from the railing. Rossi was frozen in his spot, his daughter lifeless in front of him. Spencer lifted you carefully in his arms laying you on the ground.

“She has no pulse! She’s not breathing! She’s not breathing!” He started pumping your chest, 1,2,3,4…. check, no sign of breathing. He held your nose and blew into your mouth twice, Luke took over chest compressions as the paramedics set up the defibrillator. More Paramedics arrived, pushing the two FbI Agents away so they could work on you more thoroughly. Some tended to your still bleeding cute, needles attached to you for IV bags and then.

“Everyone clear!” The defibrillator sounded up. The shocking noise and the thud your body made against the cold floor seemed to echo all around. They shocked you a total of four times before they managed to get a weak pulse.

The ambulance ride wasn’t long, especially now that you had a police escort and most of the flashing lights in the city. You died and came back 3 times in the ambulance. Spencer hadn’t stopped crying since he found you bleeding and lifeless.

On arrival to the hospital you were instantly taken to surgery, some of the stab wounds too severe to be treated normally. The BAU occupied the waiting room, Rossi sat numbly staring at the floor, Spencer paced back and fourth, Luke kept on asking the Dr for updates every ten minutes and the rest of the team just waited for any news at all.

——————————————————————————————————

-Your POV-

You hadn’t remembered your cell being this bright. Maybe your captor had taken you outside. Maybe you hadn’t died in time to be spared of the cruel torture that was about to follow. What was that dreadful beeping sound? You blinked, your eyes taking their time to adjust to your surroundings. You were defiantly somewhere else and you started to panic, the beeping got louder and faster. You tried to sit up.

“Spencer! Spencer! Wake up she’s awake!” You couldn’t make out the voice clearly, it sounded like… your dad? But how? Were you dreaming. Maybe this was your body in its final stages playing a cruel trick on your subconscious.

You tried to talk, but your throat was dry and you were hit with a wave of pain. Someone pressed ice chips to your lips, slowly but surely you accepted them, the coolness coating your vocal cords.

“Please, please tell m-me this isn’t a d-dream.” A tear leaked from the corner of your eye and rolled down your cheek only to be kissed away by… your Spencer.

“Baby, it’s not a dream, I found you, we found you. You’re safe now and I’m never letting you go again.”

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

Welp, There we go. The final chapter! I hope you liked this mini series! If you like Criminal minds or want me to write for anyone else.. maybe Luke Alvez... let me knowwww i'll consider it ;) Please Reblog/follow/like <3333

Tag List:

@waddles03

@nocturnalherb16

@reidscardigan

54 notes · View notes