writing fanfiction on my mind

Imagine being best friends with Spencer Reid //part 1.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

[Masterlist] [Part 2]

Image belongs to @loverboyreid.

  • You two often heard that you were nothing alike. Even the team wondered how the complete opposites that you two were could stand each other.
  • On the one hand, you could understand their point of view because you have also noticed the small changes in your and Spencer’s behavior when you were in the same room.
  • For example, you often ruffled his hair (you would kill for having such soft hair and that wasn’t a joke) but he never seemed to dislike or avoid it. When other people tried to touch him, he immediately moved away, even with things such as a simple handshake. Sure, he excused himself rambling about the germs and hygiene but it wasn’t like you were the only person in the world free of them, right? When you jokingly asked him about it, at first he didn’t know what to say, because he was closer with you than with anyone else.
  • “With you, it’s… calm,” was his final answer, hours after your question. You didn’t tease him about his abstract expression, because he has been thinking really hard, almost profiling himself.

  • You two would randomly chat while doing paperwork behind your desks and it would sometimes lead to very ‘geeky’ subjects. Morgan was the one mocking you the most about it.
  • “With so much brainstorm in this room, I think I’ll have to invest in some protection from thunderbolts.”
    “Really, Morgan? That was lame even for you.”
  • The team was surprised by how well you two cooperated. You weren’t one to outsmart the boy-genius, but your ‘human’ point of view on cases often allowed him to better understand what was on people’s minds and how would they really behave in theoretical situations.

  • Spencer wasn’t really fond of close relationships, even if it was only on friendship level, and it took quite some time for him to open up fully and consider spending his free time with you off-schedule. He liked to have everything in his life in its place as much as possible and he rarely let go of his habits, but he made an exception for you.
  • When he suggested that you could watch something at his place for once, you were so clearly shocked that he got red and started rambling something but stopped when you hugged him really tightly (but quickly, because he still hadn’t warmed up to long physical contact). You were so happy that he made this commitment, it made your whole day brighter.
  • “Woah, what a ray of sunshine! And this is the first day in a week I forgot my sunglasses…”
    “Shut up, Morgan.”
  • Your friendship grew slowly and you made sure not to push Spencer’s boundaries too much in one strike.
  • Spencer would find himself actually surprised by how easy talking to you was compared to pretty much everyone else. Even when he started to speak chaotically, you didn’t shush him or roll your eyes, instead telling him to slow down and explain it one more time, this time like for a kid.
  • You would often make him laugh and he honestly thinks it’s the most valuable gift he ever received from anyone. Even when he is surrounded by all his problems or saddened by his mother’s deteriorating condition, you are still able to make his day a little bit brighter, although he would never admit to it.
Imagine Jacob being shy around you until he gets jealous about another man flirting with you

Originally posted by walshconnr

A/N: I got a ton of Jacob requests and this just happened to be the most finished work, so I quickly finished it up and badda bing badda boom! Hope you guys like it!

Jacob Frye.

A charming, ambitious man who was known to be skilled with both his words and his cane sword.

Did I mention he was a gang leader? And an Assassin?

His personality certainly befitted his job. And he knew it. His confidence and occasional arrogance practically radiated off of him.

And yet…

How come he had such a damn hard time talking to you?

It’s not like you scared him, or intimidated him. He respected you, and your presence always put him at ease. But just looking at you wasn’t what made him so nervous and flustered; it was when you talked to him. When you were so near him, he could see every little perfection and beautiful flaw. And when you spoke- we aren’t talking about little things, we’re talking about when you got passionate about the conversation. The way your eyes would light up and your voice would rise a little higher and your lips would curl into a lovely smile. He noticed those things about you, and he wondered how someone like you could even associate with him.

It probably didn’t help that Evie and Henry both knew about his little crush on you. Evie subtly teased him about it while Henry did his best not to bring it up for the most part (although sometimes he couldn’t hold back a small quip). Whenever you and him were anywhere near each other, Evie would cast a knowing look at Jacob, to which Jacob would scowl. It’s not like he was afraid of you rejecting him, of course not!

Well… maybe a little…

Or a lot.


It was a cool, cloudy evening in London. You, the Twins, and some Rooks were all having a few drinks at a pub, celebrating the victory over the Blighters in a big gang war. You were watching everyone celebrate, and your eyes lingered a little bit longer than normal on Jacob, who was drinking alongside a lanky Rook with blond hair. What was his name again? Nathan? Michael? No… Nigel! You were pleased that you had remembered his name, and in those few moments, you didn’t notice a man sit down next to you. You only realized he was there when he began talking.

“And what’s a lovely young lady doing here, all alone?”

You smiled, “Just enjoying the lovely London weather.” You replied. The man didn’t seem scary or malintent, so there was no harm in letting him talk, right? He laughed, “Ah yes, the gorgeous rain and clouds. Why haven’t the poets immortalized this city like they do Rome and Venice?” This in turn made you laugh, which caught the attention of Jacob, who was sitting across the pub. He glared at the man almost instantly- how dare that man just waltz right up to Y/N and start chatting her up like it was nothing! That was supposed to be his job!

He just sat and watched the two converse, periodically taking angry swigs of ale. He wanted to intervene, but it was Y/N’s choice. She didn’t look uncomfortable, so pulling her away would make her cross with him.

“Feeling a bit jealous, Jacob?”

Evie was smiling a tad mischievously at him, that same look in her eyes. Jacob rolled his eyes, “How can he talk to her and I can’t? I’m twice as smooth as that guy- and three times as handsome.”

“Maybe it’s because he has the balls to take a chance.” Evie smirked.

“I do have-!” He paused, realizing he really didn’t want to shout ‘I do have balls!’ in a pub, in front of Y/N.

“I do have them,” He continued, quieter, “But have you seen her? She’s just… wow.”

“I do see her. I’m seeing her right now.” Evie replied dryly. Jacob narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his nose. Evie went on before he could say anything, “Why don’t you just tell her after they’re done talking?” Jacob sighed loudly, “What if they don’t stop talking, though? What if they do more than talk?” Evie lightly smacked his head, “Head out of the gutter, Jacob. She doesn’t seem infatuated with him. They’ll stop talking soon enough- make your move then.”

Sometimes Jacob loved his sister’s logic, and sometimes he hated it. Right now, he wasn’t sure whether he loved or hated it.


“It was lovely chatting with you, love,” The man- Houston Price, you found out- was readying to leave. You just smiled and nodded, “I enjoyed talking to you as well, Mr. Price.” He took your hand and lightly kissed it, and bid you farewell. You felt a light blush on your face- it certainly was nice to be flattered by a young man every once in awhile. Even better, he was an utter gentleman about it. Usually you expected drunken swine.

“Y/N, may I, um…”

Jacob was standing where Houston just was, “May I have a…” He glanced over at Evie, who nodded her head encouragingly. “A word?”

“Sure Jacob, is there something wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, “No, no. Just… Come outside with me.”

You followed him just outside the pub, away from the other Rooks and Evie. You were alone now, and the streets of London were unusually quiet, even for a cloudy night. Jacob looked a bit… anxious? That was strange; Jacob was usually a ball of heave-ho confidence and a sureness that you had always admired. Now, though, he seemed almost worried.

“Y/N… I just…” His face was slowly getting redder, and he had a difficult time making eye contact with you, “I wanted to… ask… about that man from earlier.”

“Earlier, as in three minutes ago?”

“Yes.” He looked to the right a bit awkwardly.

“Well, alright. What about him?”

“You didn’t… you know… enjoy his company very much, right?”

“Well, he was very chivalrous and polite. I cannot say I didn’t.” You told him honestly.

“Oh… well…” Jacob seemed at a loss for words.

“You seem a bit off right now, Jacob,” You tried to look him in the eye, which he seemed adamant to do, “Everything alright?”

“No! Well… mostly, but no!” His voice got a bit more direct, and his eyes snapped up to meet your own. You blinked in surprise, but urged him to elaborate.

“It’s just… He was a stranger, who just started talking to you!”

“That’s how conversations work, Jacob.”

“No! I mean, he was flirting with you!” He put emphasis on ‘flirting’, as well as a bit of bitterness.

“What’s wrong with that?” You crossed your arms. You wished he would just get to the point.

“Because some sod decided it was fine to try to chat you up!”

You were a bit surprised by this. Why would Jacob care about that?

Was he…

“Oh my god,” You said aloud, “You’re jealous?”

Jacob almost looked genuinely offended, “Wha-? Me, jealous? I… I have no clue what you mean, Y/N!”

You were surprised by this newfound talkativeness from Jacob. It’s not like Jacob was a reserved person to begin with, it was just that Jacob always seemed quieter around you. It was as if he had little to say. Evie had told you once he was shy around you, but you hadn’t taken her words to heart. Turns out, she was right, because now that he had had a few drinks, and was overboiling with some kind of apparent emotion, Jacob seemed to be quite able to talk to you.

In the moments of reflection that Jacob had taken for a disbelieving silence, he was looking around as if trying to find what he wanted to say next. An awkward silence fell between the both of you, as you didn’t really know how to approach this situation, and Jacob was still trying to figure out how to word the things he wanted to tell you.

Evie was watching, hoping that Jacob would pull up his little boy pants and just tell her his feelings. Watching the two dance just out of each other’s reach was frustrating, sometimes infuriating. Y/N was a good choice for Jacob, as he needed someone like Y/N in his life.

“Look, Y/N, I just…” Jacob rubbed the back of his neck, deciding that he would rather get it done and over with instead of drawing it out like he was doing, “You know the way that Evie and Greenie look at each other? All sickly sweet and that rot?”

You nodded, and could faintly hear a tsking sound from Evie.

“Well, that’s how…” He shifted awkwardly, “That’s how I look at you. I guess I just wanted to say… I like you. A lot.”

“Like… like-like, or just…?”


“Oh…” You felt a rush of hidden happiness. Jacob had feelings for you? This was great! You grinned, “Well, Mr. Frye,” You tried to sound calm, although your insides were all fluttery, “I like-like you too.”

Jacob’s eyes lit up, “Really?” His voice was higher pitched from his surprise. He then coughed and repeated, “Really? Well, good.” His goofy smile spread across his face, and from where she stood, Evie could almost feel the happiness radiating off of him.


“You seem very pleased with something, Evie.”

Henry walked up to stand beside her, noticing Y/N and Jacob just outside. The two looked happy. Like two kids hearing that they would be getting their favorite dessert.

Evie smiled, her blue eyes glinting with quiet contentment. They were happy together, and they finally both realized it.

It took them long enough.

“For the hundredth time, I’m not your babysitter.”

Installment III in the Drabble Challenge

Spencer x Reader, Prompt #142 | takes place after Reid gets shot in the leg in “Nameless, Faceless” (S5 E1)

You heard a loud thump from the bedroom, followed a muffled curse. With a frustrated huff you rose from the couch and marched towards the source of the noise. You could barely resist the urge to roll your eyes at the sight that greeted you.

Spencer was on the floor, wrestling with his tangled sheets and pausing every so often with a pained expression on his face to reach for his injured leg. Barely even 2 weeks after getting shot by an unsub and he was already insisting he could get up without any assistance whatsoever.

“Seriously, Spencer? Again? I told you to tell me whenever you needed anything,” you scolded, making your way to help him get back into bed.

“And I told <you> that I don’t need a babysitter,” he said stubbornly as he batted your hands away. You rolled your eyes and looped your arms around him to heave him onto the bed despite his protests.

“For the hundredth time, I’m not your babysitter. I’m your girlfriend and I’m trying to help you, you idiot.” You brushed his hair away from his face just a little too roughly judging on the annoyed look Spencer shot you.

“I have an IQ of 187.” His face scrunched in pain as he attempted to shift back to lean against the headboard.

“But you’re still an idiot.” You punctuated your claim with a kiss to his furrowed brow. “You got shot in the leg, love. Hate to break it to you but that warrants a bit of help.” He let out a heavy sigh. You sat next to him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “What’s eating at ya, doc?”

Spencer stared down at his fidgety hands, a sure sign that something was bothering him.

“I just - I just don’t want to feel… like a burde-”

“Don’t you say burden, Spencer Reid,” you interjected. “You, while on a case to protect a man and his son, saved said man by taking a bullet for him. You’re far from a burden - you’re a hero.” His lips twisted up in that way they did whenever he was trying to hide an oncoming smile. You knew all he needed was a bit of affirmation. Spencer was one of the bravest people you knew and sometimes he just needed someone to remind him of that.

“You good?” you asked with another shoulder nudge. He gave you a small nod before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Now, what is it you were trying to do earlier?”

“I um… I needed to get to my bookshelves?” he admitted meekly.

“You risked ripping your stitches and irritating your wound for a book?”

“I finished the 5 you put on the side table… and the 3 tucked between the mattress and the bed frame.”

You shook your head disbelievingly. “Fine, how about this? I’ll grab a couple books and we can read them in bed together, but you have to promise not to try and get up without help until you’re properly healed. Deal?”

“Will there be cuddling?”



Asa Butterfield Imagine (ASAnators)

Anon asked, “heeey, could you write an Asa Butterfield with 39 and 53 pleaaase”

A/N: Of course! This was fun to do in class, because pshhh who does their actual work in class. Not this girl! (eh sometimes lol) Anyway- I hope you enjoy it! Reminder: Reader could be male or female.

39. “How long have you been standing there?”

53. “I’m flirting with you.”

Word count: 605

I slept over Asa’s apartment… I kind of got into an argument with my parents about stupid stuff, so I called Asa asking if I could hang around his for a while. “For a while” ended up being the whole night. I didn’t really wanna be at my parent’s house.

I had a crush on Asa too, he was just- the best. He was my best friend too, and he was just so great, how could I not like him!? His voice is so soothing and beautiful. His eyes? Precious. Everything about him, is so good…and I just- like him a whole lot.

In the morning I woke up in Asa’s bed. He wasn’t next to me which means he probably slept on the couch, leaving me the bed. I got up out of his bed, and went to the bathroom to do the casual morning routine or whatever.

When I got out I went to the kitchen and happened to pass by the living room and saw Asa sleeping on the couch. I smiled softly. He looked all cuddly and warm and adorable, and just…he looked perfect.

I saw a paper on the table, and in his handwriting it said, “make yourself @ home, stay as long as youd like” I smiled again and left it at the table and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Might as well, right?

I decided to make beans and some toast. That’s Asa’s favorite. Beans on toast. That would sure make a nice morning. I put some music on. It wasn’t so loud, just in case I would wake him up or anything.

I started making everything, and I just do this naturally I guess…but I started singing quietly and dancing to the music that was playing. When I turned around to get a plate I saw Asa standing there next to the door way.

My eyes widened as a deep blush grew on my face. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked with a worried voice. Of course I was worried! That i so embarrassing, oh my gosh…

“Long enough.” he said walking to get the plates I was going to get IN THE FIRST PLACE. “Was that supposed to be cute or something? Intentional?” he asked. Yes Asa. I dance like an idiot to look cute. Duh.

“Yes. I’m flirting with you. Can’t you tell?” I say sarcastically. He laughed and put the plates down at the table. I laughed as well trying my best to not seem awkward. Thank God, I didn’t burn the toast…

I put some breakfast on his plate, and some on mine, and I kept the music on. “You don’t mind, right?” I asked about the music. “No, no, it’s fine.” he did say to make myself at home so, that’s what I’m doing. I nodded, and we both started eating.

After breakfast he looked at me and asked, “So when are you going back to your parent’s?” I sighed, “If you wanted me out that quick you could’ve just said so.” He shook his head and a smile showed up on his face, “I’m kidding. Come here.” he said holding his arms out and I received them.

This hug was amazing…it felt like all the bad things in the world no longer existed. I mean- that sounds stupid, but it’s true. “Thanks Asa. For letting me stay here and honestly everything.” I said. “No problem. It’s what friends do.”

Oh, friends. Right. Yeah, I doubt this is going any farther. So I nod and smile, hoping this hug lasts forever, even though I know it won’t.

Under The Pressure

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warnings: being taken by the unsub

Wordcount: 657


Original imagine: Imagine meeting Spencer when he rescues you on a case and you both instantly hit it off and go out to dinner that night,    by @dazzadazzledazz

Gif does not belong to me.

You raised your eyebrows skeptically, listening to the FBI agents giving you and your co-workers a profile. Sure thing, somewhere out there, a psycho was wandering and killing young women in the most brutal ways, but did anyone really think that you could have known him for years and not notice? If there was someone like him in your surroundings, you wouldn’t have missed him.

The other thought that hit you hard was even more gruesome. If police truly needed help from office workers, the case wasn’t just a bad joke or exaggeration. The agents looked serious, even grave. All but the youngest, standing in front of a map in a corner of the conference room, not bothering to notice anything in his surroundings. People walked past him, talking with each other or throwing him suspicious looks, but he kept muttering to himself, marking some spots with a marker. You couldn’t see his face, but the soft locks on his head were disheveled and clearly needed a good, old brush.

You sighed silently to yourself, looking away from him. You had more urgent problems. If the situation in your workplace didn’t change really quickly, it may close for good. You didn’t have any money saved, so you should start looking for a new job right now. This “unsub” was probably way easier to find.

Little did you know, that the day you were going for an interview for a way better and less dangerous job, you would be also caught by the most wanted murderer in your state. Two in one, as they say…

Three, if you could count being caught with a very young, very disheveled agent you noticed a few days ago. It felt like years actually.

“So…,”you started hesitantly once the man left you both alone in a dark, dusty basement, tied to each other. “ I’ve always thought that FBI agents were last to be caught by the man they were looking for.”

“Actually, it’s not true – we are only less likely to be caught  due to our training and work experience…” Spencer stated, trying to sneak out of the ties. “I was going to rescue you. I made the connection about the identity of the unsub only an hour ago and he was the closest to you, but I’m sure my team will be here soon.”

“I hope so. If I’m not wrong, I heard a chainsaw. Did he ever use a chainsaw? Nothing about that was in the TV…,” you started rambling, your heartrate increasing gustily.

Spencer felt his mouth getting dry.

“Yeah, on the last victim…,” he couldn’t stop himself from saying. You gave him a furious look over your shoulder.

“How much longer is it going to take you?” you addressed his attempts to free himself.

“Right… now,” with a deep sigh of relief, he quickly got up, pulling your ties. “Let’s get out of here.”

Twelve minutes and a few mild injuries later, the both of you sat breathlessly on the ground between two police cars, trying to push the gunshots away from your hearing. You didn’t even care what was going to happen to the unsub.

“You know what…,” you swallowed a sip of water brought to you by one of the medics. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” Spencer nodded, feeling his own stomach twisting.

“There is a 24/7 bar right across the street behind us.”

The thought of food almost ready to be eaten made Spencer’s head spin.

“We still have to make a statement,” he pouted only half-heartedly.

“Screw them. They are busy right now.”

“If anyone asks, I did it only under the pressure.”

“Of course. I’m very convincing.”

The Vegas Lights

Anonymous Asked:   I have this idea in my head and I was hoping you’d be able to do some justice for it. I was wondering if you’d be able to do a Spencer x reader where the reader is a magic con artist and she is involved in a case in Las Vegas and Spencer starts to fall in love with her.

Author’s Note: This is probably how I’ll post stories from now on, just so its easier to look at. Also I apologize for my absence I was really struggling and having a hard time but hopefully I’m back. Because this is what I love doing and I love hearing from you all. I know this isn’t probably what you had in mind anon but it’s where my brain went so enjoy. P.S. Not edited so sorry for mistakes, I’ll fix them later but I really wanted to post something. 

You were working your usual area, outside on the strip under all the neon lights. You needed a bigger, open space to work your shows, made it easier to take cash without anyone noticing. You missed your stage, but when times were tough you made do with what you had. Today felt like your day. You were able to get your new wardrobe, your new tricks were working without a hitch and you already had more cash than you should carry in the Vegas streets. Now, it was time for your final act.

That’s when you noticed the detective. She was a fiery spirit, older, and really didn’t like you. Interesting development, she was being followed by two other detectives. You took another look as you tried to pull the crowd closer to you; they weren’t detectives they were FBI. Sadly this meant you couldn’t pull off your real final act, so you’d just have to settle for a disappearing illusion instead.

You had what looked like a changing tent on wheels; it was circular and had a long black curtain that dragged on the ground. It was perfect and you borrowed in from the shop that was behind where you were preforming so it wasn’t your responsibility to clean up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll need a volunteer who’s very good at walking.”

“I’ll volunteer, (Name).” The detective called to you, but she was still working her way to the front of the crowd with the two agents.

You tsked. “Sorry detective, but you just got here so that’s not very fair.” You grabbed a girl who was in the very front and you enclosed yourself inside the curtain. “Okay, sweetheart, I need you to spin this thing around three times, and then the detective will pull back the curtains and I’ll have a surprise waiting for her.”

Of course, you were standing in the back of the crowd by the time she pulled back the curtain. You would have gotten farther but you really liked the look on the detectives face when she pulled aside the curtain to find you missing. You quickly slipped on a sweater, and as cheesy as it was you also put on a pair of fake glasses. But it did help you blend easier in the crowds Vegas seemed to draw in. You were checking behind you, trying to see if any of the agents were coming after you, when you walked straight into someone.


Spencer had a feeling that you’d escape the moment you saw the detective, so he kept his distance from the scene while Derek and Emily followed the detective. He couldn’t get a good view of you from where he stood but he could see the act. He was able to see you escape, but then he lost you in the crowd. He was scanning to see if you somehow got ahead of him, when someone knocked right into him. He wasn’t expecting it and the person was going at full force so that you both fell onto the ground.

Well, Spencer fell onto the ground, while you fell on top of him. You groaned in pain, before bolting up to a sitting position. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Spencer looked up, and recognized immediately that you were the suspect they were looking for. But he felt his breath stolen away from him, as he got lost in your beauty. It was more than that of course, but he couldn’t stop his heart from racing at just the mere sight of you. As a profiler, Spencer could see your ability to care and be gentle even with your tough exterior. All these complex thoughts raced through his head in a matter of seconds but he suddenly became extremely aware that you were still sitting on top of him. “I’m alright, but could you get off of me? I have a thing about germs.”

“Right and we’re on the side walk, in Vegas.” You quickly stood up, and Spencer could see you wincing as he got up too.  

“Are you okay?”

“I just scraped up my hands a little, again, I’m sorry.” You made a move to walk away, but since you were the suspect they were looking for, Spencer couldn’t let you leave.

“I have some bandages and some antibacterial spray in my car. It would be best to get that taken care of.” Spencer saw the indecision on your face, but he also noticed the way you scanned the crowd behind you and saw the detective, Derek, and Emily heading towards the two of you.

“That sounds…” You gave one last look at the detective before interlocking your arm with Spencer’s. “Wonderful. Please, let’s go right now.”

Spencer started to lead you back to the SUV’s they came in, when you suddenly jumped away. He didn’t know if you were on to him, so he didn’t say anything until you gave him a shy look, blushing slightly.

“Sorry! You said you had a thing with germs, I have a tendency to invade personal space, sorry about that.”

Spencer was more surprised that he didn’t even really notice, he was always worried that something about her seemed familiar to him. He rubbed his arm suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s no problem. My car is right here.”

You inspected the SUV, and Spencer couldn’t have timed it better. Right then, the Detective and the rest of his team walked up. The Detective had handcuffs on you before you could even let out a curse.

“Come on, (Name), we need to bring you in for some questioning.”

So that’s how you ended up in an interrogation room. Glaring daggers and the cutie that conned you here, along with one of the other agents who caught you.

           Cutie started the conversation. “So, (Name), you’re a magician?”

           “That’s the best name for me, Spencer.”

At his confused look, you only smirked. The cuffs luckily didn’t stop you from reaching your pocket. You pulled out his official F.B.I. ‘badge’ and threw it on the table. He quickly swiped it up, still looking a little lost of when you were able to grab it.

“So you mean you’re a con artist.” You think her name was Emily, Agent Emily. She obviously didn’t like your tricks.

           “I preform, people pay me, and I’m good at a little slight of hand. I used to have a professional stage but now I do just fine on the streets.”

           “Your stage? Where you used to perform with your partner Stephen Roth?”

           You rubbed your head. If you were here because of that idiot you were going to lose it. “Doesn’t he go by something else now, what was it? Stephen Shade?”

           Spencer finally spoke up again. “Shadows.”

           “That still sounds shitty.” You felt a little tension grow in the air. You should have guessed, F.B.I. wouldn’t be coming after you if Stephen was just bad to his old habits. “What happened? Did he do something?”

           “You don’t seem surprised that this is about him.” Emily noted.

           “Yeah, well he was an asshole with a gambling problem and violent tendencies.”

           “We suspect him of committing five murders. All of young and attractive women.”

           Well that stopped you. Murder? But he promised you he was getting help, why would he lie to you? After you forgave him even, for stealing your show.

           Emily gave Spencer a look, apparently it was a surprise to them that you didn’t know about this. “This must be quite shocking for you, but it’s really important that we find him before he can hurt anyone else. According to our profile we don’t have much time before he grabs his new victim.”

           You shook your head, probably too aggressively but you couldn’t believe this. You didn’t want to believe it.

           Spencer spoke to you now, softly in a tone that brought a sense of clarity to your head. “You can help us, and help him. We just need to know places that he’d be, he’s not at his house or anywhere near the stage he performs at. Is there any place you know of that he’d be?”

           You did, you knew exactly where he’d be.

           But you weren’t telling them that.

           Spencer watched you exit the police station, not being able to shake the feeling of him doing something wrong. What was he supposed to do chase after you? His eyes lingered on the door too long, he was caught.

           “Pretty boy, what are you thinking?”

           Spencer tried to snap himself out of it but he couldn’t. “She wasn’t saying everything. I think she knows something.”

           “What like a partner?”

           “No.” Spencer said with just a bit too much force. “Um, no. Just that she knows something that might put her in danger.”

           At that moment, an officer rushed out of one of the rooms and out the front entrance. The team could hear what sounded like shouting before the man rushed back inside.

           “Agents!” He greeted them while running up to them. “I was watching your informant leave the station on the cameras and she was grabbed down the street almost out of view of the camera. A man in a truck hit her over the head, then dragged her into the truck and drove away.”

           Hotch spoke up, while the rest of the team was already in motion. “Send that footage to our tech analysis, hopefully we still are able to catch up.”

            Spencer was first out the door and instead of waiting for his team; he hopped in one of the cop cars that would be leading the chase. Spencer couldn’t believe that he just let you go, when you obviously knew something. Now you were in even more danger, and he didn’t know why but he couldn’t let anything bad happen to you.

           Before anything you felt the pain. Someone had split open your head you were sure of it. You knew exactly where you were before you even opened your eyes. It was a vacant house, on the bad side of town. You two used to come here to practice new tricks and work on your act before you got your own stage.

           When you opened your eyes, you were disgusted on the point of vomiting. Red and blue lights outside the window lit the room, every stain, every fragment of what used to be a human and a lifeless girl sprawled out on a mattress on the floor.

           Stephen looked dirty, he was scratched up too those claw marks from human nails were visible as he peaked through the window holding a gun.

           “Oh, Stephen.” You groaned surprising him. “What happened to you?”

           “Shut your fucking mouth. Things weren’t the same when you left, no one could get it right like you could.” You saw the crazed look in his eyes, he was too far gone.

           “It’s not our time to die Stephen, put the gun down.” From the corner of your eye you were able to see shadows in the kitchen. You didn’t dare look away, but you really hoped it was that Agent coming to pull you out of here. This wasn’t the Stephen you worked with or knew. This was a monster.

           “ I know… I know what I did was wrong but once I started I couldn’t stop. It was addictive better than any drug, or any performance. But there is only one way out of this for me.” He said tapping the gun to his head, finally turning back to the window. “(Name), I’m not going alone either.”

           You twisted to face behind you, fear starting to take control of you, and were relieved to see Spencer standing there.  If Spencer could trick you into getting taken into custody, than he could handle Stephen. Spencer was gesturing for you to come towards him, so you tried to slide as quietly as you could.

           “You were my partner (Name), you deserve better than a bullet.” He spoke to you while still gazing out the window, but his venomous tone made you pause. “Maybe I’ll let you see exactly what those other girls saw, how their final moments were ended by me.”

           You looked back to Spencer with tears forming in your eyes, your heart was pumping so fast you could barely hear and you felt your breathing start to turn heavy.

           Spencer mouthed at you, still remaining out of Stephen’s sight. “Calm down,” He mouthed. “I’m here, just come to me. It’s okay.”

           You couldn’t take this anymore, you quietly made your way to your feet and now being able to stand ran to Spencer as other agents ran past you towards Stephen. Spencer grabbed you quickly embracing you and covering your ears as you cried onto his bullet proof vest. Gunshots went off, you wanted to scream but it couldn’t escape your throat. So instead you just held onto Spencer and cried as you heard the body of your old friend fall to the floor.

           Once he was sure the gunshots were through he used his hands to hold you and stroke your hair. “I thought,” You mumbled to him. “You had a thing with germs.”

           “You were already on me once today, so just for you I don’t really mind.”

The idea just wouldn’t leave me alone and even though I’ve never really written fanfiction, it just wouldn’t leave me alone so I wrote it.  And no one will probably read this, but I didn’t just write 2.5k words to not post it on the inernet (yes you heard that right).  So, if by some magic you do read this, I would really love to know what you think!  It’s Stiles and Lydia, about that nights where Stiles come to see Lydia because he thinks there’s something supernatural.  So I hope you like it (or read it i guess)

The Boy Who Cried Supernatural

The first time it happens, Lydia’s sure she’s dreaming. Because there’s no way- no fricking way- that Stiles Stilinski is standing over her bed, whispering her name so softly “Lydia, Lydia, Lydia” over and over again like a prayer. But Lydia blinks twice, long and hard and reaches without thinking, slowly reaches her hand out to lightly touch his cheek. It’s real and solid and there, and immediacy recoils her hand, a sharp contrast to her previous movements. Lydia’s sense of wonder is almost immediacy replaced by annoyance. 

“What are you doing her” she groans, still half-asleep. She rolls her head to the side, glancing at her alarm clock, “At 2:30 in the morning?”

“I found something,” he says, his voice anxious. The anxiety in his voices wakes her up. It’s 2:30 in the morning and he’s fully awake, and hell, that has to count for something right? 

“What?” She asks, sitting up, slightly terrified. She realizes that her pajamas are slight generous in a certain area on her chest. His gaze shifts for a moment, then back to her face. 

“Something…supernatural” he says, and then quickly corrects, “at least I think it’s supernatural. I need you and you’re all knowing banshee powers to tell me if it is or not”. 

“My banshee powers are not all knowing,” she grumbles, “Look away”. She looks back and he’s dutifully shut his eyes. She climbs out of bed and quickly slips on the nearest dress because of course Lydia Martin sleeps in her underwear. She cautiously looks back (his eyes are still closed, and he’s absentmindedly playing with his car keys) and she slips on the nearest pair of boots and grabs a jacket. 

“You can open them now,” and his eyes snap open. The car keys stop. His gives her a quick once over. 

“Let’s go,” he nods and they make their way to Stiles’ jeep. 


They’re riding in the jeep, stiles’ eyes darting back and forth, even though there’s no one in the road. The right hand is on the wheel, the left absentmindedly tap tap tapping on his left leg while his right one shakes. Lydia slightly smiles. Stiles can never sit still even for a second. She glances out the car, and catches her reflection in the rearview mirror. She pauses for a second, a realization striking her. This is the first time she’s ever been around Stiles without makeup on. 

“Stop it,” Stiles says, as though he’s reading her mind, “you look beauti-fine. You look fine.” Lydia turns away so he won’t see the blush that’s threatening to form on her face. 


The reach the “something supernatural” that Stiles was referring to, a clearing in the middle of the woods. There’s rock forming a perfect circle, and maybe it’s just because it’s 2:30, no 3:00 in the morning, but it looks creepy to Lydia too and she can see and sense Stiles’ worry. 

“How did you find this?” She whispers, touching on one of the rocks. 

“I…uh…” and now he looks embarrassed, and now he’s starting blushing and she realizes there’s only one way that he found something this isolated in the middle of the woods. 

“Do you patrol the woods?” she asks, and it sounds disbelieving but of course, she believes it, of course this idiot boy patrols the woods, looking out for the supernatural. 

“I…erhm…yes?” She laughs, and then the moment turns serious. She walks to the middle of the clearing and sits down. She closes her eyes, waiting. She doesn’t understand how this whole beacon for the supernatural, probably never will but it she sits still, clears her mind, and hopes to whatever god(s) might or might not be out there, usually something will come to her. 

So she sits and waits. And she waits. She can feel Stiles’ impatience radiation off of him in streams. 

“Well?” He asks impatiently, after silence that to his nervous mind was probably an eternity. 

“Nothing,” she says, almost relieved. 

“Nothing?” He asks in disbelief, “but the…the rocks…they…” he spins out pointing, “There has to be,” he whispers, and she senses urgency in his voice even though she doesn’t realize know why. 

“There’s not,” she says comfortingly, “I promise, Stiles. Now can you take me home? I would like to actually get some sleep tonight." 

She starts walking back to the car, and he follows her after a minute, but she notices that he keeps looking back at the forest, at the clearing. 


The second time it happens, a week later, she comes to a lot quicker. There’s no doubt, and there’s definitely no touching although there is a lot of groaning (from Lydia).  

"I think I found something,” he says, pacing the floor of her room. She glances at him skeptically, but she knows he’s not going away anytime soon, so she makes him look away, slips on acceptable clothing, and wordlessly walks to the car. 

“Let’s go,” she calls up to him. He’s still standing in her room, as if in a daze. He snaps too, and almost jumps following her to the car. 

The weird flickering street lamp turns out to be just that, a weird flickering street lamp. She tries not to notice the obvious disappointment that’s so clearly written all over his face. Why would he be disappointed? She puts that in the category of things to be dealt with later. She’s been doing that a lot these days. 


The third through tenth time he comes, she starts to get annoyed. He’s getting more desperate now, she can tell, even if she doesn’t understand why. 

It’s the flicker of the possibility of the supernatural that he overhears from his father’s walky talky one night (or many nights), or the weird behavior that their English teacher is exhibiting during class (“because you can never be too careful after what happened last time, can you Lydia?”).  Each time he’s more panicked, more frantic.  Each time he needs it to be real; she can sense that, even if she can’t sense anything supernatural anywhere he takes her.  


The fourteenth time it happens, she finally asks him.  

“Why Stiles?” she asks, after the leave another failure, a grocery store, where the people going in and out of the back room just a little too much in Stiles’ opinion.  The worst of it?  Spoiled milk. Which is nasty, Lydia thought mentally, but not supernasty (she’s been spending too much time with Stiles to think of a lame ass pun like that), “Why do you keep dragging me all over Beacon Hills?”  They get in his car, and he starts driving.  Right hand on the wheel, left on his left knee, taping, right leg shaking up and down.  

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and Lydia shoots him a scathing look, “I don’t!” he screams in her face, and he looks immediately taken aback, “I don’t,” he says quietly, and it looks like he’s given up, “It’s just…we’ve been through so much.  One supernatural threat after another for the last four years and all of a sudden everything’s all well and dandy.  Well I don’t buy it Lydia!  Everything’s not well and dandy and you can’t tell me that there’s not another supernatural threat out there, waiting to attack us!  You can’t!”

“You’re right,” Lydia says quietly.  He looks at her, shocked, as if he never expected her to agree with it, “We have been though a lot, and there’s nothing wrong with being vigilant.  But…”

“But what?” Stiles says quickly, almost snapping but not quite.  

“But, Stiles, sometimes seeing patterns when they’re not there is not a good thing,” she says, as gently as she can.  

“So what, you think I’m crazy?” he says, definitely snapping this time.  Lydia licks her lips, takes a deep breath.  

“No,” she says, slowly, carefully, “I think you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he replies, not looking at her face, not meeting her eyes.  

“Sometimes the future is less scary than the supernatural,” Lydia says, giving him a meaningful look. They’re in Lydia’s driveway by this point, stopped, but the engine’s still running, the only break in the silence that forms.  Lydia knows Stiles doesn’t want to talk to anyone about this, much less her, so she does the only thing she knows she can do, leaves.

“Goodnight, Stiles” she says, slamming the car door behind her.


Lydia talks to Scott and Malia the very next day.

“Stiles has been coming to visit me almost every night,” she blurts out.  Scott’s eyebrows raise, and a slow grin starts to form on his face.  

“Well, Lydia, I can’t say this is unexpected,” he starts but Lydia cuts him off.

“Not like that,” she whispers forcefully, hitting him on the arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to know that she’s annoyed, “He’s been dragging my ass out of bed to look at things he think are supernatural every night for the past two weeks!”  Scott groans.  

“I know,” Scott says, and Lydia shoots him a patented Lydia glare.

“You know?” she growls.

“Who do you think he came to before you?” Scott asks, and Lydia feels a pain of guilt that she wasn’t his first choice, but she suppresses it before she can even fully register it, “I said no, of course, and since I’m not exactly a beacon of the supernatural myself, he wasn’t too interested in me.  I think he actually just stopped by on his way to your house,” and he says this as if he knows about the pain in her stomach that just dissipated when he spoke.  

“What do I do about it?” she asks desperately.  Malia, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up.

“Have you found anything supernatural?” she asks.  

“No, of course not,” Lydia shakes her head.  

“What if…you did,” Malia said, “Not anything serious or ‘end of the world’ variety like we usually deal with, but something small,” she adds quickly.  

“A small supernatural problem?” Lydia snorts, “Malia that’s…not actually half bad,” Lydia considers thoughtfully.  

“No way,” Scott says instantly, “There’s no way I’m tricking Stiles.”

“You won’t be,” Lydia says, “I will.”


He comes the next night, just like he has all the others.  There’s a little more spring in her step as he leads her to tonight’s destination…the hospital.  

He leads her to an empty room.  

“They were treating a girl in here,” he says, “They recovered her from a lake.  She almost drowned…but somehow she didn’t.  It was a miracle.”  The word “miracle” sounds like a disease when he speaks it and she looks at him.

“So what do you think it is?” she asks, “Mermaids?  Sirens?” It’s a joking that Lydia’s not used to making, but she’s trying to get rid of the permanent frown that has taken up residence on his face.

“Maybe,” he says quietly. Lydia moves over to bed, smoothing it down before taking a seat.  She closes her eyes.  She frowns. She can hear Stiles’ breathing get faster.

“What?” he asks sharply, “Lydia what?  What it is? What do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” she says, her eyes still closed, “But I think that there definitely could be something here.”

“Bullshit,” Stiles says, and then mimics her, “’I think that there definitely could be something here’. Bullshit, Lydia.”  Lydia’s eyes shoot open the first time he says bullshit, and she licks her lips.  She’s trying to find the words, to say “no I’m telling the truth” but she doesn’t want to lie to him and she’s sure it’s written all over her face.  

“I’m sorry,” she says. She looks down, opens her mouth, but he cuts her off again.

“Fuck Lydia,” he says, “You don’t have to pretend to spare my feelings okay?  I’m not some kid, okay?”

“Stiles-“ she starts.

“You know how I knew you were lying?” he’s yelling now, and it hurts, but she’s a big girl, and she can sit there and take it, “Because it only took you five fucking seconds to come to a conclusion.  If you thought there was something there, you would sit there and make sure because you wouldn’t want to play me like that.  Because you’d want to be sure because you’re always so careful and meticulous about things like this.  So next time you try to screw me over, at least make it convincing!” She stares at the ground.  She doesn’t know what to say.  Finally, she looks up and all the anger has disappeared from his body.  Now, he just looks sad.  

“Stiles-“ she starts again, but he cuts her off.

“C’mon let’s just go,” he says.  They don’t talk the whole ride home.  Lydia was sure that he was going to leave her there in the hospital for a moment there, but he didn’t.  And he wouldn’t, a little voice in her brain says.

His driving habits are the way they usually are, right hand on the wheel, left on his left knee, taping, his right leg shaking and Lydia wonders how many other people notice his driving habits.  Or how many other people know about her habits as well as Stiles.  

Sometimes she wondered if anybody else knows her as well as Stiles does.  But tonight, she knows that he does.  


He leaves her alone for a week after that, but he eventually comes back for the sixteenth time.  

“Lydia,” he says, but this time his voice sounds different.  She resists opening her eyes for as long as possible.  

“What are you, the boy who cried supernatural?” she replies, trying to sound annoyed, but she can’t resist smiling.  She can almost see his face crinkling up to a smile, and sure enough, when she opens her eyes, it’s there.

“Something like that,” he says, almost wistfully.

“Stiles,” she says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you.”  The last week, they’d been speaking less and she knew it was because of this sudden weight that had come between them because of last week.  And she missed him.  It surprised her how much at first.  When she walked into school and he didn’t meet her the first day that feeling in the depth of her stomach had returned and taken up permanent residence there.

“I know,” he said, “And I know you did it for the right reason, but Lydia,” she looks at him and he looks at her, “Don’t ever lie to me about this again.  Please Lydia-“ and his voice is desperate now, just like it’s been desperate for the last two weeks, there’s been too much desperate lately, and Lydia is sick of it.

“I won’t,” she promises and he looks at her and he knows that she believes him.  Then the silence hangs there for a minute.  

“Let’s go.”  And she gets up out of bed this time without protesting because she knows he needs this, and she’s here for him, she will always be here for him.  

Because this is their little routine right now, they’re Stiles and Lydia, he’s the human who shouldn’t know better but does, that human who always figured it out, the one who is attracted to the supernatural, and she’s the supernatural.

So they go off into the night, like vigilantes, the boy and the banshee, the girl and the boy who cried supernatural, saving the world from a threat that doesn’t exist.  

Wrong //part 1

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Spencer Reid, reader, Derek Morgan

Summary: Reader is caught by the BAU believing them to be the unsub.

Word count: 934


Gif does not belong to me.

The interrogation room was small, dusty and horribly hot. And it smelled like sweat, although that could be just you. Did you mention how horrendously hot it was in there?

Tapping your fingers impatiently against the metal table, you waited for anyone to finally come and tell you it was all just a joke. A really bad, really stupid joke. FBI, huh? Right. All the uniforms and guns would cost… too much. Besides, you didn’t have any friends to prank you, so unfortunately, your hopes were flying away on a big, sweaty pigeon that from time to time sat at the other side of a small window. Closed window, of course. Why would anyone think about opening it? You shouted it only about four hundred times.

You were tired of shouting, so you just stuck your middle finger (just to stretch a little bit – you couldn’t even take a walk) to the glass on the left, because there certainly was someone to keep an eye on you.

“What do you think?” Hotch asked, coming out of the conference room with a phone in his hand. The woman they had captured, still sat where they placed her a few hours earlier. She seemed to be bored out of her mind.

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Reid rubbed his cheek, his thoughts rushing one after another in order to understand the woman on the other side of the glass.

“Yeah”, Emily sighed, shaking her head. “It definitely looks like we got something, but I’m not sure if that’s the unsub we were looking for. I mean – just look at her!”

“I looked at her when she threw Morgan to the ground without losing her breath. I am certain she could have restrained our victims.” Hotch raised an eyebrow, not convinced.

“It was actually in self-defense,” Spencer mumbled. ”Morgan was the first thing she saw and he was pointing a gun right at her head. The usual time of reaction in a situation like this is…”

“I don’t think she’s gonna crack anytime soon.” Emily shushed the genius. “And certainly not on her own. Is Rossi coming?”

“He’s still stuck in traffic, but Morgan will be here any minute.”

“I doubt it’s a good idea.” Emily warned her boss. “They are already conflicted. Maybe I should try?”

“No, she may make a mistake. But you may assist if you really want to. Reid, watch her.”

Genius didn’t answer, instead just nodding. Everyone could make a mistake and with every passing hour, he grew to believe that this time, they had made it.

“Finally,” you growled when the door opened and refreshingly cool air entered the room, but your mood quickly changed back to nasty when you recognized one of the two agents coming in.

“I’m agent Derek Morgan and this is agent Emily Prentiss.” The man sat in front of you in one of the two chairs. The beautiful, dark-haired woman chose to stand to your left.

“I missed you, honey,” you blew him a kiss in order to provoke him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“So you also know perfectly well why you are here.” The man stated calmly, looking you straight in the eyes.

“Yeah, I heard how you shouted I’m convicted of murder, but guess what – you are wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” the man teased with all-knowing look at his face. “And I don’t only think – I’ve got evidence.”

You chuckled. You knew all too well how police worked.

“So why won’t you use it and just throw me into prison instead of just waiting for me to admit to a crime I didn’t commit? Oh, right. You are wrong and you know it. So why won’t you just release me and catch the bad guy?”

“We’ve caught the bad guy,” Morgan said. “And she’s right in front of me. You have been seen in places where the victims disappeared, you had at least three guns in your shitty apartment our people are still searching and you know how to overpower someone much bigger.”

“And you still can’t connect me with those murders. Because I didn’t do them!” you shouted, your anger running through your veins. The woman on your left winced, but Morgan calmed her down with a small gesture.

“I know what you have been through,” he said with a soothing voice, leaning toward you. “Two tours in Iraq? That’s impressive. But the reports don’t show everything. Some men were just too much, weren’t they? Always insolent, always rude.”

“Yeah. You sure understand them very well,” you snickered, the situation was driving you insane.

The silent woman unexpectedly sat down on the other chair. The agents exchanged looks you couldn’t decipher and the tall man left the room.

“Look”, the woman inhaled deeply. “You have to understand our situation. We have to catch the murderer and if you can help us, not only you will be free of charges, but you will also protect people he already chose as his next victims. This beast won’t stop until someone puts him into jail.”

“What do you want from me?” you asked after a while, judging her openly.

“Help. You may know this person. And if we are right about this, he is gonna strike again very soon.”

“Well,” you cracked a smile. “You weren’t even right about me in the first place. I guess you won’t do anything right if I don’t help you, huh? So, when do we start?”

Master List of My Jemily Fics (Updated)


What Makes a Home
Summary: JJ and Emily talk about their first date at a Katy Perry concert and other memories with Penelope.

The Disposition of Emily Prentiss
Summary: When JJ spots a beautiful brunette in a bar she employees Derek and Penelope to help her win over her new crush.

Piccino Merlo
Summary: Emily is undercover as Lauren Reynolds and meets a seductive blonde arms dealer

Change Your Mind (Drabble)
Summary: JJ and Emily wager their first ‘wife bet’

The Mutt (Drabble)
Summary: JJ rescues a dog from traffic and begs Emily to keep her.

Breakfast (Drabble)
Summary: Emily finds her hands full of a certain toddler

Love is an Open Door (Drabble)
Summary: Henry helps Emily on a secret mission

Nine Years (and Three Days) (Drabble)
Summary: Emily and Jj have been celebrating their anniversary on the wrong day

Gravity (Drabble)
Summary: JJ comes home to a very drunk, very miserable, Emily

You Picked Me (Drabble)
Summary: Emily has a hard time expressing how she feels and the team comes over for Thanksgiving

Imagine Me and You (Drabble)
Summary: JJ sees Emily with a baby and gets to wondering

Breathe (Drabble)
Summary: Emily comes ot the rescue when Henry is sick with a cold

I and Love and You (Drabble)
Summary: Emily gets wedding day jitters

Mother’s Day (Drabble)
Summary: Henry helps Emily prepare a Mother’s Day surprise

Dreams Do Come True (Drabble)
Summary: Emily takes JJ and Henry to Disneyworld for their first family vacation

London Calling (Drabble)
Summary: JJ makes a rash decision and calls Emily in a panic

A Series of Unfortunate Events (Drabble Collection)
Summary: How each member of the team found out JJ and Emily were dating

300 (Crack!fic / Drabble)
Summary: The 300th episode of Criminal Minds finds Emily and JJ in a precarious situation.

The One Where JJ Reads Fic (Crack!fic/ drabble)
Summary: AU where the team is on a reality show about the BAU


Speak Now
Summary: Rossi and Hotch take bets on which drunken member of their team will make the biggest fool of themselves at JJ and Will’s wedding. However, they are surprised when the least likely person stands to object in the middle of the ceremony.

As It Seems
Summary: JJ is falling apart and desperately wishes she had someone to talk to.

Come Around to Me
Summary: Emily plans to leave for London as JJ plans for her future

The Secret Life of Lauren Reynolds
Summary: JJ finds Emily’s passport under her alias, Lauren Reynolds

{Text} Blackbird.
Summary: A series of text messages between JJ and Emily exploring their feelings for each other


Summary: After the plane crashes on the way home from the case the team must ban together to survive

The Five Horsemen of the Silent Chasm
Summary: An in depth look at JJ’s PTSD after her minor break down in The Forever People. (This story has 2 ending options)

Into the Light of the Cold, Black Night
Summary: An alternate ending to 200

Summary: Emily gets Penelope’s phone call in “Lauren” and comes home

Save Tonight
Summary: JJ finally gets the courage to tell Emily how she feels but is she too late?

1000 Times
Summary: JJ visits Emily in London, hoping to pick up where they left off

Summary: JJ finally breaks down about her abduction

Ashes and Wine
Summary: Emily’s emotional insecurities threaten to tear her relationship with JJ apart

I Will Follow You Into the Dark
Summary: JJ tries to piece her life together after a crushing personal loss

Hotel Celiing (Drabble)
Summary: It should have been their six month anniversary


Luck of the Irish
Summary: An alternate version of Lauren

The Call
Summary: Emily gets a call from Spencer and becomes worried about JJ’s well being


Unsubs and Handcuffs
Summary: JJ finds herself at the whim of her captor after being bound and gagged.

Coming Home
Summary: When Emily returns in It Takes a Village JJ has a hard time restraining herself.

Take it Slow
Summary: JJ is nervous about her first time with Emily

First Orgasm
Summary: Jemily enjoy a quickie in the car


Pandora’s Box
Summary: After a drunken confession JJ and Emily take their relationship to the next level


Summary: When Emily finds out Will has become abusive she helps JJ get out of the situation safely. 

Words Left Unsaid
Summary: When Emily’s sister arrives in DC she is faced with traumatizing news and JJ has to face emotions of her past

To Catch an Unsub (WIP)
Summary: Emily and JJ go under cover in a rural Alabama town to catch an unsub.

It Was Always You
Summary: As JJ prepares to leave for her new position at the Pentagon, Emily makes a huge confession which changes everything.

THINGS YOU SAID (Drabble Collection)

Things You Said When You Were Crying
Things You Said Under the Stars
Things You Said Over the Phone
Things You Said With Too Many Miles Between Us
Things You Said When You Thought I Was Asleep
Things You Said When We Were On Top of the World
Things You Said When I Was Crying
Things You Said When You Were Scared
Things You Said After You Kissed Me
Things You Said That I Wasn’t Meant to Hear
Things You Said Through Your Teeth
Things You Didn’t Say at All

UPDATED: Decmber 25, 2015

#1 - Goodbye my almost lover

She was the most stunning bride she had ever seen.

Her smile was brighter than the sun itself. Her ocean blue eyes were shining with love and happiness. The delicate summer wind was slowly blowing in the golden halo of her hair, gathered in a loose ponytail that let some strands escape around her face. Everything about her was perfect, up to the very simple but yet sophisticated dress she was wearing. The fabric was silky and very light, softly glowing under the bright sunlight. It was a very simple, yet elegant summer dress, the kind she had seen on the girl multiple times.

There was a spring in her steps that reminded her of the old times. For a few seconds, her mind drifted to several years ago, when she was the CEO of her own empire and when that girl in white was nothing more than her assistant. Her annoyingly, desperately optimistic, and sunny assistant with a cheap and painful wardrobe made of rainbows cardigans and doubtful trousers. So young and so bright, yet so old and so wise.

Keep reading

My Light (Part One)

Author: @loverofdrreid

Trigger Warnings: Abuse/Domestic Violence/Language

Summary: You and your boyfriend Rob have lived next to Spencer for a couple months and it doesn’t take a genius to guess what’s really been going on in your life. 

The apartment was always dark, Rob preferred it that way. He also preferred it to be spotless, which was really hard to do in the dark. Tonight’s mistake was missing something while sweeping, which left you bruised and locked out in the complex’s hallway. Your lip was bleeding, but it’s not like it’s the first time this had happened. You know that things will be better in an hour, he’ll play your favorite movie for you and get you ice cream and you’ll spend the rest of the night laughing together. It’s not like you had anywhere else you could go or any of your own money. This was your life, and you had no one else you could turn to.

You heard a loud sigh. “Not again.”

Well, almost no one. There was your neighbor, Dr. Spencer Reid, he always made you feel better and you liked listening to him. If you were a normal girl and life was your perfect world you’d want to be with him instead of the situation you’re in right now.

“Yeah,” You responded to him. “I know. You can give me the statistic of women in the US who are victims of ‘this’ over and over again. Everything is fine.”

Spencer leaned down to your eye level, and you couldn’t look away in time. “It’s not fine, (Name)! You’re bleeding and I bet you have other injuries that are just as bad!”

You shushed him. “Spencer, please don’t yell he’ll hear you.”

“Honestly, I don’t really care if he hears me because I’m about to arrest him! You deserve better than this!”

“Spencer, really, everything is fine and I’ve honestly seen a lot worse. Everything he does can only be qualified as a domestic misdemeanor; you can’t arrest him unless I make a complaint to the police.”

In Spencer’s mind he could only think about what would come before that day, imagines of you bloody and broken on the ground slipping between life and death finally ready to call for help. But by then it’ll be too late.

“At least come inside, I’ll bandage you up and give you something warm to drink.”

You smiled up at him and the outstretched hand he offered to you. Spencer was the only thing that brought light into your life. You always wished you could run to him, not for protection, but for a better life. But the thought of dragging your only source of light into the darkness you’re forced to live in is worse than any beating you’ve ever received.

“(Name), please take my hand.” The way Spencer said that to you made you realize that he knew, if you took his hand you’d give up this act of courage. He knew as well as you did that you wanted to finally take his hand and finally be free from this dark path.

“Well what are you doing out here, silly?” Rob’s voice stopped you cold. “Hey there, neighbor, hope this little drunk isn’t giving you trouble.”

So you were drunk this time? That was Rob’s masterminded excuse, usually he preferred crazy. You tried to control yourself not to flinch as Rob reached for you, pulling you up by your arms. You’ve never felt more like a coward, and you couldn’t even look Spencer in the eyes. Rob led you back into the dark house, and you were barely able to hear Spencer’s goodbye over the sound of the locks clicking into place.

After seeing Spencer you always felt better, a little more invincible, but the apartment you lived in felt like a prison closing in on you. Who were you kidding? You’re life has always been a prison since the moment you moved in with Rob. Maybe living on the streets and on the run was better than being trapped like this.

“Why were you talking to him, again?”

You shrugged. “I was locked out and he saw my lip was bleeding.”

“He ‘saw’? You mean you showed him!” He roared, rage contorting his face. “You’re so careless! Didn’t you realize that he’s a fed?”

“N-no, I had no idea. I didn’t show him anything on purpose. I’m sorry.”

Rob stopped listening to you and that was the best response you could hope for from him. Until he started moving around the apartment, grabbing your luggage out from the closet. He grabbed every carryon bag you had and started to fill each one with whatever he could lay his hands on.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? We’re moving the fuck out of here.” You started to protest but he just continued talking. “I’m sick of this shit. You’re always talking to that fed, so now we’re leaving. We’ll be gone tomorrow.”

Spencer felt off heading into work the next morning, and he knew his friends could tell. He sat fidgeting at his desk, on the fence whether bringing in his team would help or hurt the situation. But one thing he did know for sure is that he wanted you out of harm’s way, he needed you to be safe and wanted to see you happy.

“Alright, spill it, pretty boy.” Morgan said taking a seat on Spencer’s desk, Emily and Penelope stood a little behind Morgan wanting to be there if support was needed.

“I have a friend who’s in a dangerous situation and I want to help her, but she won’t accept my help and denies that she’s in danger.” Spencer looked desperately at his friend, which cut off the sassy remark Morgan had been about to say. “I don’t know what to do, what can I do?”

Emily stepped forward when Morgan paused. “What kind of situation is she in, Reid?”

Spencer felt guilty about sharing something that was private to you, but he honestly believed that this was best for you; he just wanted to help you. So he shared every detail he’s ever noticed, the abuse, the torment of always being locked away, and the way you almost reached out for him. Everything, he shared every detail he’s ever noticed about you to his team, things he didn’t even notice he was paying attention too. When he was finally done sharing everything he could see the shock plain on his friends faces.

“Spencer, how long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“That she was being abused?” Spencer asked, confused about why Morgan thought this was important over everything else that he shared.  

“That you’re in love with her.”

Spencer didn’t even have time to process the idea before a young agent rushed towards him. “Sorry, Agent Reid, there’s a woman downstairs requesting to see you.”

“Why didn’t you just send her up?” Penelope asked, after all, it’s easy to get a visitor’s pass.

“That’s the problem; she was covered in blood when see walked up. She barely was able to request the agent’s name before collapsing. There’s a medic looking at her now but we called an ambulance to take her to the hospital.”

Spencer was already out of the room before the agent could finish talking, but instead of chasing after him the agent looked over to the group of three that stayed behind.

“Is there something else you’re not sharing, agent?” Emily asked crossing her arms. The panic and confusion was clear on his face, it didn’t take a profiler.

He hesitated. “My boss told me not to get Agent Reid.”

“Why’s that?” Morgan asked.

“The woman also said that she was being chased. That a man with a gun, Rob, was coming after her.”

Emily and Derek didn’t need to hear another word before they took off after their friend and this new friend of his in a very dangerous situation.

kastle prose aesthetic;
  • karen is always making coffee. she doesn’t even drink it. it just sits in cups around her apartment, just in case, just in case. her mugs are dark with it. black, no sugar.
  • there’s a voice at the back of frank’s head. a conflict between two words: “monster” and “hero.” it’s always accompanied by the memory of a pretty woman, a flash of blond hair, as he pulls the trigger.
  • days pass. weeks pass. each dark figure turning a corner is the same man, just out of reach, gone by the time karen gets there, because she could have sworn that that time, it was him.
  • he keeps hearing her name. the police scanner mentions her articles. the newspaper carries her byline. his fingers trace the words like it brings them to life, and he can hear them, see her sitting across from him and spreading files before him, asking him to talk, to question, to step outside the war and remember the world, and it almost works.
  • karen accepts she’ll never see him again. she accepts it as much as she accepts the fact that someday the sun will die, something far in the future, something that can’t be real but all evidence points to. she’ll never see him again. she should be relieved. she curls up on her bed at night and reads his file for the thousandth time.
  • sometimes he catches himself humming. it’s the same song every time, the song that became a signal, the song he worries she’ll hear and turn off when it comes on the radio because it reminds her of him. worse, he worries she’ll let it play and forget it ever meant anything. he keeps humming.
  • karen makes a mistake one night. there’s a gun aimed at her head. it was planned, it was her the gunman had in mind. he mentions something about an article she wrote in the heat of passion, but the threat is interrupted by the bullet through his head, the echo of a gunshot in through the alley. karen turns.
  • she’s not scared, he can tell. she’s never scared, was never scared of him even though she should have been, should have learned to fear his name after all the trouble he put her through. she falls into him. he can only say one word. “ma’am.”
  • she looks up, and there are hands cupping karen’s face, fingers against her pulse. hands that could strangle a man without remorse. hands that are steady as the pillars of the earth holding a gun but tremble as they hold her, the softest touch in the world. safe. safe. safe.
Your Body on My Mind

Anonymous asked: bellarke prompt: “You open the door. There ain’t nothing but a smile drawn to the floor. And you whisper in my ear ‘baby I’m yours’”

First off: amazing prompt for Bellarke sexy times ;)

Second: Listen to the song in the background, I promise it’ll be hotter.

Third: Thanks for bearing with me through my semi-hiatus! Hopefully this will tide you over until I get back around.

Without further ado, enjoy your smut *smirks off into the distance*

Clarke’s heart is pounding in her chest in the seventeen minutes it takes Bellamy to drive to her apartment. She plays with the hem of her shirt as she lies in bed, debating, then strips it off, shivering at the cool breeze through her open bedroom window. The hot summer days give way to muggy nights nowadays, not doing anything to help the low throb in her stomach that her fingers just can’t alleviate the way all of Bellamy Blake does.

Keep reading


early Regal Believer, little toddler Henry in Regina’s office, FFnet

Big thanks to Anastasia @spiral-nebula for beta-ing this :-* Seriously, what would I do without you? Regina would probably still sit under that desk ^^
This is also an attempt of peace-offering for Sophia @onceuponahappytime ;) Congratulations on passing your exam today, Madame Lawyer!

This day is endless.

Every day has been endless for the last two decades. Day in, day out. Always the same. She gets to her office in the morning, goes to meetings, does paper work, does her job as a mayor of this town. A dull day on repeat. Someone will barge in to claim ‘new’ rules and regulations or complain about one of her ‘latest’ decisions in town. Who interrupts her varies though. Sometimes often it’s Leroy, sometimes it’s Graham; even the cursed version of Snow strolls into her office from time to time. But often it’s just some random unhappy citizen. But are they? Are they actually unhappy?

Regina sighs as she’s sitting at her desk, and slips out of her heels. She grabs the next paper from her “to-do” pile (even that is on repeat) in front of her as she hears a little gurgle from the couch.

Her little prince.

Henry was a bit under the weather this morning. It’s the beginning of fall and almost every child in that daycare seems to be sick. So she brought him here with her to the town hall. He’s playing quietly with his toys, builds little towers, babbles incoherent words, creates stories and worlds that only he understands. He seems to be happy. She hopes he is in this world of repeat.

She’s concerned about what these endless days will do to him. When will he notice that something’s not right? When will he notice that the other kids aren’t getting taller like he is? He seems to be happy now but she doubts it’ll stay like this forever. In all these endless days.

She feels selfish for bringing him here, for letting him grow up in this made-up world that isn’t real. Did Regina do it only for her own good? So she doesn’t have to be alone anymore, doesn’t have to feel that hole in her heart getting bigger with every endless day?

Little feet tap over the marble floor. Regina looks up and sees him grinning from ear to ear, holding a red wooden toy block out towards her.

“What do you have there, sweetie?” she beams at him. His smile is contagious, as long as Henry’s happy, Regina is too.

He’s still standing next to the couch, unsure what to do next. Then he starts with small but fast little steps in her direction. Her little boy just got the hang of walking, so his steps are still a little unsteady but confident.

Step, step, step, ste-


He lands on his knees with a thud, the red block tumbling through air as he catches himself on his little hands. Regina instantly turns in her chair and wants to get up to help him. She can see he’s distraught, his bottom lip is wobbling as he looks up at her, a pleading expression drawn on his face.

She resists the urge to swoop him up from the floor, stays where she is and says “It’s okay. You can do it, Henry.”

He lets out a big sigh and wriggles a little on the floor. “Mama.”

“Yes, sweetheart. You can do it, I know it.” She opens her arms to him. “Come here, my little prince.”

Henry looks at her again with beseeching eyes, in one last attempt to get her to help him so he doesn’t have to do it on his own. But she doesn’t move, apart from rolling a little closer with her chair, her arms still open to him.

He lifts his little butt in the air, which looks way too adorable, and pushes himself up until he’s standing. He grins again.

“There you go! Come here,” she encourages him. He starts running again but stops mid-way to pick up the red block that fell out of his hand earlier. He squads down, grabs the toy with tiny fingers and continues running across the room, straight into her arms. Regina picks him up now, lifting him in the air, wriggling him for a moment, drawing a giggle and a toothy smile out of her little boy before flopping him on her lap, hugging him tightly. “See, you did it! All by yourself. I’m so proud of you, my little prince.” She kisses the top of his head and pulls back to look at him. He grins up at her, his eyes shining with happiness.

Suddenly he remembers the reason why he ran towards her and holds up the red block proudly. “Mama!”

“For me?” Regina gasps in played surprise and takes the wooden toy from him as he nods. Only now does she notice its form. There are still edges for a better grip for young toddlers like her son, but the shape is unmistakably round, round like an apple. Henry’s jumping up and down a little on her lap, looking up at her expectantly.

She looks stunned from the wooden apple to her little prince. “Thank you, Henry” she says, her voice thick with emotions. “Thank you” she repeats in a whisper while hugging him close to her again.

Regina can hear him giggle, tries to copy her by flinging his little arms around her torso.

This day might still be endless, but it’s a little brighter thanks to her little prince.

Merry Christmas, My Love (Jumin x Reader/MC)

Note: I know I have a lot of requests, but I was really in the mood to write a fanfiction and this came to my mind since it’s Christmas. It’s just a short one shot but I hope you all enjoy it!

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Jumin Han x Reader/MC/You

Summary: Jumin and Y/N are setting up stuff for Christmas.

Word Count: 277

Keep reading

Meeting the “Family”

Author: @loverofdrreid

Summary: Penelope hunts you down at your job to find the girl Spencer has been talking about. She kidnaps you and takes you to meet the rest of the team where your feelings for Reid are over heard by Reid himself. (First Fic and I’d love to write some more!)

There was no denying it now, she was staring.
You were sitting in the local, little coffee shop trying to catch up on some reading before you needed to get back to work. You were still in your uniform even on break, but you didn’t think that’s why she was looking. She had beautiful blonde locks and a bright wardrobe that you knew you would recognize if she was a regular. She was still staring you down but you pretended to be focused on your book as she got up and made her way towards you.
“Uh, hi, I’m sorry.” She said taking a seat directly in front of you. “You don’t know me but I’m Penelope Garcia and you’re (Name).”
You couldn’t help but raise a brow, and put your book down. “Your name actually sounds familiar, I know someone who talks about a Penelope.”
“That’s Spencer, right?” She asked excitedly. The name brought a smile to your face, Spencer was a regular at the shop whenever he wasn’t on a case and you’ve always enjoyed talking to him on your breaks. Sometimes when you knew he couldn’t sleep, he’d come in right when you opened and just read at the closest table until you took your break.
“Oh my god, shut up.” Penelope said smirking. “You’re thinking about him right now aren’t you?”
You tried to laugh off your embarrassment at being caught. “Let me guess, you’re a profiler too?”
“Oh, no sweetie I’m their tech analysis slash sorceress. It was just pretty obvious from your face that you have the hots for him.”
“It’s that bad?” You asked rubbing your arm nervously. Penelope wasn’t even a profiler and she saw right through you, you only could fear that Spencer guessed the same thing a long time ago and clearly didn’t feel more than friendship.
“Don’t worry though! The boy may be a genius in every aspect except when it comes to noticing things like this.”
“Still, I’d rather you not say anything because I’m pretty sure he just views me as a friend.”
Penelope let out a loud laugh. “Honey, I honestly don’t think that’s possible. From the way he always talks about you-“
“He talks about me?” You asked clearly surprised and slightly embarrassed.
“How do you think I knew, your name, your work, and the fact that you’d be here on break ‘probably reading’? Reid talks about you a lot, well more like little comments that he quickly rushes through because you know we all ask and that’s how Reid answers us while trying to keep us out of his life.” She was rambling a little now, but you could barely focus over the overwhelming feeling of happiness that Reid might actually care about you, at least enough to talk about you. “You know what? You should come to the office right now-“
“But I can’t-!” You tried to explain, but were cut off.
“I’ll make a big order that you’ll have to deliver, I just want the rest of the team to see you and they can explain how head over heels Reid is over you.”
You supposed it wouldn’t hurt; after all it was almost night so the shop would be pretty slow until close. “Alright,” You agreed. “but only because I know the girl on can handle the rest of the shift.”
Penelope cheered, and then began to give a tall order of almost every flavored cappuccino you had.

That’s how you found yourself in a very intimidating federal building, carrying an arm full of different flavored coffees into the ‘team’s office’. Penelope sneaked a peak into the area with a bunch of desks before opening the door for you and instructing you to place everything on a counter to the right.
“Baby girl that better be something you’re sharing.” You heard a voice behind you say.
“Shush for right now, sweetness, where’s Reid?”
“He stepped into the conference room to take a call, who did you bring with all that coffee, mama?”
Turning you found a small group had formed around Penelope, and you began to question if this was the greatest idea. Besides Penelope, there were three guys and two girls standing around her looking interested in what was going on.
“Tell us,” An attractive blonde said (who you later figured out was JJ) directing her words at you. “If this woman kidnapped you and all your coffee we have no part in this.”
You laughed feeling a little awkward. “No, um, I’m here on my own free will. I’m (Name), and uh Penelope bought all this coffee.”
“Wait,” the well-built, dark skinned man said repeating your name again as if trying to piece something together.
“That’s the girl Spencer is always talking about, right?” This came from the older Italian looking gentleman from the group.
“That’s what I wanted to tell you guys!” Penelope said. “I found her coffee shop and just had to bring her by so everyone could meet her!” Turning back to you Penelope formally introduced everyone and started handing out all the coffee she ordered.
“Now it makes sense,” the man you now knew as Derek said. “Reid’s found himself a pretty girl as his girlfriend.”
“Oh no,” You said kind of embarrassed. “We’re not dating.”
You weren’t a profiler, but you could understand that everyone looked pretty confused over what you said.
“I know, right?” Penelope asked the group. “She really is crushing on him, but she thinks that he only sees her as a friend.”
Aaron, who you knew after learning the name was their boss, spoke up. “We are all Reid’s friends and the way he talks about you is very different then the way he talks about us.”
“Well, that doesn’t really prove it.”
“We could just go by the telltale signs,” Emily said. “If the way he talks isn’t enough to prove that Reid has feelings for you what other signs would be able to give it away?”
“There are many different ways to tell,” You heard a very, very familiar voice say. “not only will the pupils dilate and your heart rate will increase but also there’s subconscious closeness where our minds think that physical closeness can result in emotional closeness, automatic rapport establishment by mirroring the body language of those we like, keeping them in your constant line of sight when you’re with them, extended smiling, and a person’s body language can give it away too. Of course the list could go on, but I think everyone gets the point.”
You found yourself lost in a trance as soon as Spencer started talking, surprising what seemed like everyone and he snuck up on the group. He stood almost directly in front of you now, but instead of the normal smile you’d usually get from him he looked concerned.
He cut you off. “You don’t think I have feelings for you?”
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest. “I, um, I couldn’t tell like I knew we were friends and everything but you never really expressed anything else so I didn’t know what to think, and I know I’m rambling right now but this is so weird that this is happening in front of all your friends and-!” You took a breath that you desperately needed. “I have feelings for you, Spencer.”
Spencer smiled as you blushed because of the crowd and Penelope saying “Aw!” at your confession.
“Well!” Emily said after a minute. “Don’t leave her hanging, Reid.”
“Sorry,” Spencer said smiling. “I-of course, I have feelings for you too, it would be impossible not to.”
“Really?” You asked smiling.
“Of course, I-“
Spencer was cut off by the chant of “Kiss her,” that you’re pretty sure Penelope started. But once it got going by each team member, there wasn’t really anything either of you were able to do against it. Spencer leaned closer to you, extremely hesitant, until you grabbed him throwing your arms around his neck and doing something you’ve wanted to do since first meeting this genius.
You kissed him.

And in the silence afterwards, not even the sound of their breathing exists.

Cas didn’t mean to say it, Dean can tell—or at the very least, he didn’t mean for it to come out as abruptly as that. He can tell by the way Cas’ eyes have gone all wide with fear and shock, and by the way his hands shake when he slowly works them free from the lapels of Dean’s coat, holding them in front of his body like he has no idea what to do with them. He steps back, but only a little.

Although Dean is no longer being pressed up against the motel door by the curled fists of a pissed-off angel, he doesn’t relax his stance in the slightest. He keeps himself flat against it, stiff as a board.

This is the part he doesn’t understand.

Fighting he can understand. He knows fighting. He’s good at fighting. He’s never enjoyed it when it was with Cas—if anything, it’s always left him with a hallow and vaguely sick feeling in his stomach, accompanied by another feeling in his chest he cares not to examine. But he still knows it. He knows what words to say to make the deepest cut, knows how to ask all the wrong questions, knows how to speak with his teeth bared and with a growl lodged in his throat.

But this is the part that overwhelms him. This is the part he doesn’t even let himself think about. Cas is just staring him with his mouth parted open and looking like he’s about to take off the moment he can get his senses back, and Dean shouldn’t feel like prey who’s been cornered, but he does.

It’s so much. It’s too much. Dean doesn’t even know if he could possibly hear anything besides the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, a constant drum against his temples as his vision turns to red. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and does the same to his mouth, having not even realized it was open.

Dean Winchester doesn’t get this. This doesn’t happen. Those words were never meant to be said to him, and they definitely were never meant to be said by Castiel. It’s blasphemy. The moment between them seems to stretch on endlessly.

Unable to gain complete control of his body and with so much emotion rising that Dean couldn’t stop it from escaping him even if he dared to try, he does the most girly, stupidest, most embarrassing shit he’s ever done: he fucking cries.

Keep reading