Story cover for SSA M. STILINSKI by mmwt02
SSA M. STILINSKI
  • WpView
    LETTURE 111,135
  • WpVote
    Voti 2,442
  • WpPart
    Parti 7
  • WpHistory
    Tempo 23m
  • WpView
    LETTURE 111,135
  • WpVote
    Voti 2,442
  • WpPart
    Parti 7
  • WpHistory
    Tempo 23m
In corso, pubblicata il ott 21, 2016
Stiles had ditched Beacon Hills. He was tired of being mistreated by his so-called "pack". He graduated two years early, got his bachelors in criminal justice and psychology, then attended a law enforcement academy and did almost six months training to be an FBI agent all by the time he was twenty-one. He lives in Quantico, Virginia with his daughter, 6 month old Olivia Mae and now best friend of three years, Spencer Reid. He was the baby of his team, whom consisted of Unit Chief/SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA David Rossi, SSA Derek Morgan, SSA/Dr. Spencer Reid, SSA Emily Prentiss, Communications Liason/SSA Jennifer Jareau, and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia. They had been his family for the past year and a half and he couldn't thank them more. Suddenly, there are five unexpected and unexplained deaths in a small town in California called Beacon Hills and the police department finally asks the team to come help after another arises. Join the wild story that is Stiles Stilinski's life.
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Are You Profiling Me?

33 parti In corso Per adulti

Aaron Hotchner x OC "Dani. Are you hurt?" Emily asked. Hotch let go of you and his eyes roamed up and down your body. "No, no, I'm fine. It's the victim's blood. Half of him was propped up in the closet and he fell on me. The other half was down stairs. It's not consistent with the profile he wasn't posed like the others. This was for me. He wanted me to find him." You said to Emily. She nodded but looked at Hotch. "I think that you are right, Dani. Let's head back and the forensics team can handle this." He said, opening the door. You followed out to the SUV and got in the front seat. Emily stayed at the scene as other police cars pulled up. You shut the door and looked out the windshield. Hotch got in the seat and turned on the ignition. He started to drive and went right past the precinct. "You missed the turn." It wasn't a mistake, you knew that. "Hotch..." "I don't want you to go back there." He admitted. "Why? He's surrounded by fifty other people and he can't do anything." You looked down. "You feel threatened. Your hand has been on your gun since we left. You have been checking the mirror every-" "Stop." You cut him off but he kept going. "You haven't cleaned the blood off your face or body but your hands. You think that this is your fault for not seeing it sooner-" "STOP." You yelled. "We made a promise. We don't profile each other. You know that! It's low, so low, and invasive and-and" He pulled over and stopped the car. "Just please..." "What? Please what?" He said. This time holding eye contact. "Please don't do this to me. Not you."