dead to me| 2- s. r

EIGHT

warnings: smut (semi-public, choking, restraints)

To you, the holiday of Halloween is associated with deceitfulness, a day full of people acting like imposters, dressing up and pretending to be someone-- or something they're not for a night. In your youth and well into your college years, you used to enjoy dressing up, living peacefully in a bubble of childhood naivety and innocence that surrounded you as a child. Now, Halloween was an excuse for you to put on a mediocre costume and go to a bar or a party, getting so drunk that you won't remember it the next day. Tonight, said party just so happened to be held by the one and only, Penelope Garcia. 

You told yourself that you would not willingly spend money on a costume this year. As a matter of fact, you probably wouldn't have even shown up in a costume if Penelope hadn't deemed them necessary for everyone, no exceptions whatsoever. You aren't fond of the idea, but manage to find a black mini dress and a black halo that you figured you most likely acquired in college during your partying phase. You shimmy into the dress, zipping it up at the side and smoothing down the soft fabric so it clings to you in all the right places. You adjust the halo on your head and slide on the black chunky heels you found, clasping the strap around your ankle and standing up again, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror.

You grab your purse and call yourself a cab, knowing that if things go your way, you won't be in any condition to drive home tonight. You maneuver your way into the backseat, tapping your heels against the door impatiently until he pulls up in front of Penelope's place, the exterior decorated in different skeleton and ghost decorations and fake cobwebs. You knock on the door before entering inside, catching a glimpse of a brightly coloured Penelope Garcia running rapidly around the place.

You let yourself in, venturing further into her place, spotting a few familiar faces, as well as other friends of Penelope you'd never met before. You spot JJ in the corner of the room with Will and the kids, all of them dressed up as Toy Story characters together. You grin as you walk over, grabbing a glass of punch from the punch bowl and grimacing at how much vodka Penelope put, but you think that move was definitely on purpose.

"How come Hotch is the only exception to the mandatory costume rule?" You ask JJ, jutting your chin toward Hotch in the living room with Jack. JJ chuckles, shaking her head, "Apparently he's wearing his 'FBI agent' costume," she replies, earning a playful eye-roll from you. Spencer rolls into the party next, dressed in some kind of Doctor Who costume, with Morgan following in shortly after him in what looks like a fireman costume of some sort. Prentiss arrives next, opting to sit beside Hotch and Jack, Rossi arriving last, claiming to be "fashionably late."

You stay glued to the side of the punch bowl for the sake of easy refills and to avoid making small talk with any of Penelope's friends. Spencer wanders over toward the table, grinning at you as he reaches for a glass and filling it up with the punch. "I wouldn't drink that if I were you," you warn, keeping your eyes focused in the center of the room.

"Why not?" He asks over the loud music, taking a sip from the punch and immediately coughing right after, "Jesus!" He manages to get out during a coughing fit, his entire face scrunching up in a wince.

"Told you."

"What is that, vodka?" You nod your head, giving him an awkward pat on the back as he continues coughing, reaching for a bottle of water instead. You answer with a nod of your head, "I don't think she was supposed to put that much." You shake yor head, taking a sip from the first of many glasses of punch you're planning on consuming tonight.

"Why don't you look happy to be here? It's Halloween, Y/N!" He grins like a child, motioning wildly to the surroundings. You glance at him with a raised eyebrow, "I would have guessed it was thanksgiving if it hadn't passed already," you reply sarcastically.