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reiderwriter · 7 months

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Dirty Cops

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.

Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).

A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~

You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.

Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died.

You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.

As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you.

"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."

"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me."

"Sir, with all due respect -"

"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly.

"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.

"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss."

"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly.

"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies.

A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes.

"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?"

"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds."

"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss.

"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct.

–X–

With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle.

"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off.

Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too.

"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either."

"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you.

"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims."

"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims."

"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table.

"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."

The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in.

Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you.

"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.

"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer."

"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"

"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you.

"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.

"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be.

"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."

You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.

Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement.

"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then.

Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more.

You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid.

"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.

"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee.

"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him.

"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand.

"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position.

“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed.

Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence.

“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks.

–X–

Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky.

This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of.

“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.

“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.”

She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well.

“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”

“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.”

Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back.

“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.”

Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station.

“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman.

She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back.

The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss.

“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you.

You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now.

The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers.

When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.

"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path.

You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk.

"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer.

You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second.

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book.

"Yes, get this bitch off of me."

"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made.

"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become.

Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently?

"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-"

"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?"

The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up.

He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks.

After making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads.

"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.

"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together.

"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice."

"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.

On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same.

"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."

"How quaint and Christian of them."

"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here."

Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass.

"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good.

"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand."

You straightened in your chair, listening closer.

"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you.

"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure.

"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved."

He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone.

Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.

"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered.

"What?"

"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."

"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"

"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty."

"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in.

You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking.

"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze.

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"

"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.

"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences.

"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp."

"What are you insinuating, officer?"

"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.

"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body.

You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear.

"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin.

"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations.

"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."

"I'll notify, Hotch."

"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest.

"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."

He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.

–X–

"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation.

It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile.

Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day.

Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.

Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services.

"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team.

"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over."

"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow.

"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar.

You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar.

He hesitated a moment outside, though.

"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"

"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly.

"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead.

You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you.

You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner.

Surely enough you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.

"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van.

"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks.

Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially.

Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you.

"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again.

"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you.

You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up.

"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching.

"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat."

"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly.

Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left.

"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck.

In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin.

You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now?

However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears.

"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss.

"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out."

Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man.

"What do you want us to do?"

"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."

"Shit. Detective Dumbass?"

"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."

Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood.

"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.

"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were.

You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.

Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking.

"Followed me. Think he's listening outside."

You pulled your own out to answer him.

"Let's give him a show then."

The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull.

Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.

His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it.

You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking.

"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied.

"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more."

You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him.

You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel.

"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.

"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants.

"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him.

After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway.

"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom.

"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."

You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth.

"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl."

He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.

You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand.

"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off."

His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.

Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits.

"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.

It was time to catch a killer.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #kinktober 23

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miley1442111 · 1 month

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jealous?- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: aaron couldn't be jealous, right?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: jealousy, heavy kissing, aaron is mean to spencer, not really cheating but kinda

Aaron truly didn’t mind keeping your relationship a secret.

He thought it was a good idea considering you two were only a few months in. As much as Aaron loved you, and you loved him, hiding it was a necessity.

Right now? Aaron wanted to walk right up to you and kiss you so hard that the officer speaking to you finally got the message. The officer, John Davis had his hands on you, he kept talking to you, asking you dumb questions. Aaron could tell you were getting irritated, if he did what we wanted, he would be sure you wouldn’t mind. Though, workplace conduct also held him back. He was the unit chief after all.

But what happened next shocked him. Shy little Spencer Reid walked up to you, wrapped and arm around your waist, and kissed you.

What?

You were taken by surprise, but the officer just walked away feeling dejected. Spencer pulled back with an apologetic smile and cleared his throat, his face beet red.

“He wouldn’t leave you alone,” he shrugged, explaining his motivation behind kissing you. You just nodded, shocked that your best friend just kissed you.

“Spencer!” Aaron’s voice rang out through the room. Spencer’s head turned, a sickly feeling settling in his stomach. “Outside, now,” Aaron demanded. You sent Aaron a stern glance, silently asking him to not go too hard on Spencer. He didn’t return it.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What were you thinking?” Aaron demanded.

“Hotch, he wouldn’t leave her alone- I- what was I supposed to do?” Spencer attempted to add reasoning onto the sudden display, though a part of him deep down knew that he liked you as more than just a friend.

“Get. Me,” Aaron deadpanned. “If you have an issue with the officers or anyone on a case you need to get me or Jj, she’s our liaison, I’m the Unit Chief,” he growled. “I thought you’d remember that, Spencer.”

“Hotch please, you know that guy wouldn’t have went away-”

“Do I really have to babysit you?” Aaron was just being mean now. You were walking outside to them both anyways, Penelope had another break in the case.

“Aaron,” you sighed, standing beside Spencer. “Stop being mean.”

Aaron’s body language changed immediately. He shut up.

“Penelope has something, you head in Spencer, yeah?” You smiled at Spencer and he nodded and went inside. “What the fuck are you playing at Aaron?”

Aaron sighed, then grabbed your waist and pulled you in to kiss him. This wasn’t like any kiss before. It was heavy, passionate and all-consuming. You smiled into it.

“No one,” a kiss to your lips. “Should,” another kiss. “Kiss,” another kiss. “My,” another kiss. “Girlfriend,” he finished it off with a longer kiss, allowing his hands to travel and squeeze your ass, knowing it usually makes you open your mouth in surprise. Your gasp was swallowed by his lips as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, every attempt you made at pulling away was stopped by his large hands.

“Baby-” breathed in between kisses as his lips latched onto your neck. “The team, they’ll see us-”

“Fuck the team,” he said breathlessly. It clicked.

“You’re jealous,” you stated, a small smirk on your face, Aaron rolled his eyes.

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,” he tried to capture your lips again but you stopped him.

“You have nothing to be jealous of. Spencer is my friend, that's it,” You smiled, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Honey-”

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?” You smiled and he grabbed your hand, reluctantly following behind you. You dropped his hand as you walked into the conference room with the rest of the team, but Aaron felt better.

You were his. He was yours.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #bau team #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #aaron #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader

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uranometrias · 1 month

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✮ꜜ : ❛ you're still a traitor : criminal minds x fem! reader [ pt. 1 ]

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader (unrequited) | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: being in love with your boss was hard. especially when there were so many factors surrounding you that made the possibility of being with him, out of the question. for starters, there was your age gap, and hotch was a stickler with baggage that he couldn't quite disclose to you. hotch was a fantasy, always out of your grasp, that is until emily dies. in the four months that followed emily's death at the hands of ian doyle, you found yourself living a life that you'd only ever dreamed about. hotch was careful, but the proof was right in front of your face as he went out of his way to care for you while you grieved. how stupid of you not to realize something was horribly wrong. but now emily was back, and hotch was back from reassignment in pakistan, and you were all on trial, and absolutely nothing makes sense except for the bitter understanding that you were a pawn in a game that in so few words was "way bigger than you." but at least you had spence.

content warnings: this is literally a barrel of angst. reader breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. mentions of slight! anxiety. follows the plot of "it takes a village" aka the iconic "this is calm, and it's doctor" episode. flashbacks x present day! spencer has been crushing on reader for as long as she's been crushing on hotch. hotch is NOT romantically interested in reader. slight! hotchniss vibes (but that's up to your interpretation. jj x reader angst! reader does not react to emily's return well. mentions of unit transfer / bureau resignation. spencer confesses to reader... open ending making room for a part 2! heartbreak, drinking, crying. best friend! penelope garcia + derek morgan. reader has a sister & niece.

Your leg shakes violently as you sat just outside the court room, hands balled into tight fists as your nails press deep into the callousing skin of your palms. You couldn't say you were nervous, as far as the previous case was concerned you'd done everything you could to save Declan. You'd take whatever suspension they'd throw your way without batting an eye. You didn't regret the part you played, no, you just regretted the team that you were apart of.

It had been a crazy seven months. You remembered when things turned left, back when Emily started acting weird. She was shorter, snappier, she had less patience with any of you. Long gone were the days of wasting your time with jokes and innuendos. She had a lot on her mind, a lot none of you were privy to, and you remembered how you'd stretched yourself. You'd all tried so hard to show her you were there, to let her know that you could be trusted.

Your face contorts into a scowl, it had become your new resting face in the last few weeks. God, you hated how stupid and naive you'd been back then. Now that everything was out in the open, it was almost too obvious where the deception began. What was the point of taking care of people who had no trouble treating you like some disposable pawn piece to be moved to fit their whims. Damn. You were crying again, you'd been doing that a whole lot too lately.

You scrub furiously at your face, and you hate your teammates a little bit more. JJ had gone first, face devoid of any timidity or uncertainty. Long gone were the days of Jennifer Jareau the Liaison, she was a profiler now, one of you. When she'd come back, you'd been ecstatic. The unit hadn't been the same since she was transferred, you'd missed her so gravely. But now, now the sight of her just reminded you of the secret you'd been holding on the tip of your tongue.

Hotch wasn't the only one who had known about Emily.

You feel a hand moving to rest on the top of your thigh, and you flinch violently. You sniffle audibly, eyes moving to rest on Penelope, your God-given solace. Your best friend. She, Derek, and Spencer were the only ones who wholeheartedly understood what you felt. But even still, Hotch hadn't used their feelings to make them blind, the way he had done with you. He'd played you like a goddamn fiddle, and you'd let him. Because you were weak, stupid, grieving, and in love.

Hotch had never been in the cards for you, not that you weren't beautiful, gorgeous, an amazing agent. You had the stamp of approval of both Agents Gideon and Rossi. Erin Strauss had been (by your request) rejecting every request of transfer any other unit had tried to offer. You were an asset to the bureau, and a major part of this team. You'd been around since the beginning. You'd witnessed doe-eyed Spencer Reid join at age 23, full of facts and anxiety.

You'd seen Derek blossom and break out of his play-boy persona, and become someone that other branches of the law fought to have. You'd been around for so long, you'd witnessed so much, and Hotch knew that. Which you suppose is what you allowed yourself to believe was the reason he'd never shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. He was respecting your future, leaving your options open. But those were the delusional musings of a girl in love with someone she can't have. Hotch wasn't into you, and you knew that.

So why, why, why did you let him convince you of the opposite? For even one measly second? And, yes, of course in the grand scheme of things you understood why he did what he did. But it didn't make it hurt less. In fact knowing his duty to Emily outweighed his duty to anything else just made this whole ordeal feel more like a slap to your face. Penelope gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, and you're pulled from your running mind. You blink, registering her worry.

"Are you alright?" she asks, and it's the first time anyone's asked you that since the first day. You know they were giving you space to cope, which only seemed to reaffirm your feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "We'll get out of this, alright? And we'll-we'll be able to be a complete family again." she proceeds, and serves you right for believing someone understood what was going on. They'd all misunderstood you. They thought your behavior was fear of the team being dismantled. Some profilers you were surrounded by.

"I'm fine, Garcia." you say, and you can't bite the snippiness if you wanted to. "I just want to get this over with, and get the hell out of here." you add, and you're standing up, Penelope's hand dropping limply as you move your seat. You find a more isolated corner, plopping back into the uncomfortable seat, as the legs squeak slightly. Your leg is back to shaking, only now you've taken to chomping on your bottom lip. You don't imagine Penelope's hurt expression, you know without a doubt that you'll cave. And you can't.

Not this time.

Your phone chirps in your pocket, and you jump once more. Your jumpiness was a new attribute triggered by the amount of sleep you hadn't been getting. Pulling it out you see that it's a call from your big sister, and you curse under your breath. You were supposed to be watching your niece so your sister could pick up an extra shift. None of you had really expected for things to go this far.

"Hey..." you wince, because you can hear the heaviness of your feelings ladled over your words.

"Hey, are you alright? I got a call from Spence." and you're surprised. You look up, searching for the brunette anywhere in the vicinity, and find that he hasn't shown up yet. It's a bit of a shock, especially for someone as punctual as Reid. You did however spot JJ still meandering about, and she's not looking tense at all. Despite your anger towards her, you couldn't deny that she'd quickly fallen into the role of a profiler. It fit her almost like a glove.

"Spencer called you?" you ask, and you hear the tension in your sister's sigh. You imagine that she must be exhausted. Your sister did a lot, and managing a blossoming family was hard. Your niece was five, and she had a new addition to the family on the way. Which was why it was so important for you to be there on the days she needed you to watch your niece.

"Yes, he said something about..." your sister lowers her voice. "Emily." she questions, and you find your head nodding despite the fact she can't see you. "Are you alright?" she asks again, and this time she emphasizes how important it is for her to hear directly from your mouth the state of your wellbeing. Your sister seemed to always see right through you, it was a wonder she wasn't the one in the FBI.

"I'm-" you trail off before you can lie. "I'm sure if they could they'd disband the unit." you whisper, and you look up just as Derek is exiting the court room, Penelope looking terrified as she takes his place. Derek scans the room before he spots you, and his eyes soften. JJ approaches him and the two seem to chat animatedly. Still they look so serious, there was no room for smiles and banter today.

It's not long though before they're looking at you again, and you know that they know. Your self isolation wasn't something you were exactly being subtle about. You immediately look away, focusing in on what your sister was saying. "Bad decisions or not, they're no good without your unit." she says, and pride still manages to swell up inside of you. "You guys do good work. You work because you're together, everyone plays their role." she proceeds, and it's then you shatter.

Play your role. What role exactly did you play? Hotch was the stoic leader that somehow seemed to play the role of pseudo-father so well for every member of the team, with the exception of Rossi and Derek. Derek, was the shoe-in for promotion. The older brother who teased you relentlessly, but would fight til his last breath to protect you, and he always did. JJ, the pretty girl. The one who everyone on the team at some point had been attracted to. But more than that, she was resilient, a subtle glue that kept your unit running.

You quickly slot through everyone else's roles in your head, and huff. What were you except the odd-woman out. The dummy with a crush on your unit chief, and too much knowledge for your own good. You supposed that was why Hotch had to distract you with exaggerated gestures. If you got out of your feelings and really thought about it, you knew that if anyone on the team was going to see through the smoke, and uncover the truth about Emily, it would be you.

So he had to handicap you. What better way than by hanging the possibility of a romance in your face. Still, it was cruel. Just more proof that this was not the family you made them out to be. "Yeah, I'm not so sure." you reply, and you can hear how disgruntled you sound. It smacks you like a ton of bricks, and it's then you truly realize just how hurt you were by everything. Your sister sighs deeply, and it makes you second guess yourself. Were you being irrational? Unfair?

"I know what Hotch did." she begins, "And it was awful to play with your feelings like that." she expresses, and you feel validated. "And nobody's expecting you to just welcome Emily back with open arms after months and months of thinking that she was dead. You were deceived, and I want you to feel however you want, okay?" she says, and you don't respond, mostly because it feels rhetorical. "Just don't do anything rash without thinking it through alright?"

You don't know what she means by that so your eyes roll. "I think we're well past that, if they find us guilty I could lose my job." you remind her, and she chuckles. You don't find it funny, you can't. Your love for the job outweighed a lot of things, so it had been a no-brainer to help Derek seek out Ian Doyle. You wanted his head spinning on a pike, and you weren't planning to take no for an answer.

two weeks prior.

You were sitting across from Derek, steaming mug of coffee in your head that was more french vanilla creamer than anything else. You held the staged photograph of Declan and Louise. Derek's holding an identical photo, a heady sigh escaping him as you both rack your brains for some sort of bullseye. Something that would point you right in the direction of Declan. "Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity." Penelope says as she walks into the office. She sits in the chair right beside you, arm full of stress balls and files. "So she must have used someone that she trusted." she proceeds.

"Alright, well that's a short list, but it's probably not even written down." is Derek's tired reply.

"Even if it was, she's been so many places, with so many different points of contact. " you speak up, and you take a sip from your coffee, praying it kicks in and wakes you up a bit. "It's not gonna be super easy to track and narrow them all down." you say, and you realize your mistake just as Penelope is placing a file in your hands.

"Oh, tell me about it. Two columns, domestic and imports." she says as she passes the other to Derek, who's looking at you with an amused smile stretched across his face. Serves you both right for underestimating the genius of Penelope Garcia. "I accept your apology, cutie." she says, leaning into you as you grin, smacking your lips in a kiss.

"Hey." JJ's at the door of the office, all three of you turning to look her way as she beams brightly. "Have you guys seen, Spence?" she questions, and you remember how you'd offered to bring him a coffee as a respite from the garbage water they served in the bullpen. He'd shut you down politely asking to reschedule as he was going to be spending his day at the Firing Range. You understood the need, he wanted to protect himself, and the team. He had to get better.

"He's at the firing range." you and Penelope speak in unison, making eye contact, as hers narrow. You knew instantly she would have questions about why you of all people knew Spencer's whereabouts.

"Again?" JJ questions as you shrug your shoulders, her eyes flitting towards you.

"Ever since Prentiss died, he..." Penelope speaks your thoughts.

"Right." JJ nods her head. "Uh... did you guys just get a new case?" she questions, hands clasping together in front of her.

"It's just an old one." Derek answers.

"Do you want some fresh eyes?" she asks, and it's painfully clear that she's still figuring out how to feel more like the team again.

"Not just yet." Derek denies, and he's polite, but you knew why he was being this way. You were all for keeping anything related to Doyle under wraps until you were further along.

"Ok. Um, well let me know." she hums, and then she looks back at you. "Y/N, can I..." your eyebrows raise as she trails off. "Can we talk? It'll only take a second." she hopes, and you look to Derek and Penelope for a moment.

"We won't do anything big without you." Derek promises, and you nod, closing the file, and handing it off, before you stand to your feet. You follow JJ out of the office, and down the hallway, stopping just before you reach the heart of the bullpen. You look to her expectantly, a bit confused, but not on edge. You had missed JJ, and in the two months she'd been back, it'd been pretty hard to get some real time with her. You'd hoped a break in the case would help to change that.

"Everything okay, Jaige?" you ask, and you witness how she exhales in relief right in front of you.

"God, it is now." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. She seems to understand the confusion on your face as she lets out a chuckle, dispelling more of her own tension. "You've been calling me Agent Jareau since I got back... not JJ and definitely not Jaige." she explains, as it seems to register for you. "I guess I was just a little worried I'd done something to make you mad at me." she admits, and she's clearly sheepish.

"Oh." you chuckle yourself, and you reach out to hold her shoulder. "No, you've done nothing wrong." you promise. "I've just been a bit in my head these last few weeks, but I'm really glad you're back." JJ beams at your words, and all the remaining tension in her posture dissipates instantly.

present day.

"Hey, everything alright?" you look up, pulled from your thoughts at the presence of Spencer Reid. He's holding a medium cup of a steaming liquid that you can only assume is coffee, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "I remember you asked me a few weeks ago about coffee." he holds it out, and you're quick to press your phone to your shoulder, neck craning slightly as you take it.

"Thanks, Spence." you mumble, and you can practically hear your sister's smirk from the other line. "Could you just give me one second, I'm talking to my sister?" you question, and Spencer nods his head, eyes widening in understanding. You smile politely, and he beams back at you, pretty eyes seemingly brightening before he's making his way over to Derek who's smirking like the nuisance he is.

"Hey." you mumble once he's gone, and your sister is snickering. For some odd reason she'd been dropping hints that maybe the guy on the team you should be setting your sights on was Spencer. To your defense, it wasn't like he wasn't attractive. You'd be an idiot to deny his boyish charm and good looks, but after he'd sat you down and admitted he had a crush on JJ, back during his second year, you'd sort of blocked any potential attraction towards him out of your head.

Now he was just Spence.

"Hey, I should go. I just wanted to check in, Spence made me aware of everything so I've got everything figured out on this end." she promises you, and you nod once more despite yourself. "Just think about what I said, alright? It'd be a shame for you to leave behind such a good job." she finishes, and you don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. "Call me later?" she questions, though you know she's telling you more than asking.

"I will." you reply, and she sounds pleased as she exhales.

"I'll talk to you soon." and then the phone is clicking. You adjust your grip on your coffee, using your free hand to grab your phone, and place it down on your lap. The coffee smelled good, it was from that cute shoppe that sold different pastries and always smelled like cinnamon. You'd been there with Spencer and Penelope a handful of times, and they always made your coffee exactly how you liked it. Still, Spencer had never ordered for you so you await a mishap.

The first sip warms you up instantly, and you're knocked flat on your ass by how on point the drink was. Your eyes snap upwards, looking across the lobby towards Spencer, who's awkwardly sitting in a seat, Derek beside him. JJ was gone now, but you figured she was probably with Hotch and Emily, the three of them had been attached at the hip since the team was "back together". You're certain them being gone was what led you to standing to your feet.

You walk towards Derek and Spencer quietly, slipping into a seat next to Spencer as Derek leaned up against the wall. "I didn't know that you knew my coffee order." you whisper, and Spencer turns to look at you. He offers a half smile, you were certain you'd be passing a lot of those back and forth until the court proceedings were done with.

"Of course I do." he shrugs his shoulders. "I pay attention when you talk." he promises, and you wonder why he had to like JJ, and why you had to like Hotch. On paper, and off paper Spencer Reid was the perfect candidate for boyfriend, plus he never pretended to be into you to keep you from finding out the truth. You both fall into silence, there's not much else to say, but you let his words repeat in your head. I pay attention when you talk. It makes your stomach twist.

"You alright over there, pretty girl?" Derek's voice barely reaches over a whispered volume. It seemed you all were feeling the dreary aftershocks of an ordeal like the one you'd found yourselves in. You look up at Derek tiredly, and you don't understand why he's asking you this, not until you feel the scalding heat of hot coffee singing your skin. Two sets of worried eyes are drawn to your cup, it's squished in your palm, brown liquid streaming everywhere.

"Shit." you hiss, and the cup falls to the floor, you're quick to clutch your burnt hand. God, you were really torn up over this.

"I'll get this cleaned up." Derek promises, and he looks at Spencer as if he was communicating something he didn't want you privy to. Spencer falters, only for a second before he's reaching out for your forearm, and guiding you to your feet. You trail after him, walking down the long corridor, listening out for the telltale sign that Penelope was done, and they'd be calling you next. On your route you pass JJ who looks concerned as she looks between the two of you.

"Spence, Y/N?" she says, and you avert your gaze, you're not sure if you're more angry or embarrassed.

"Sh-she spilled some coffee." Spencer explains, but he doesn't stop walking. "Shouldn't be more than a first degree burn, if she soaks her hand for five minutes, everything should be fine." he is passive as he speaks, eyes never quite meeting hers as he continues to lead you.

"Let me take her." JJ offers, and both you and Spencer are quick to offer denials. She looks hurt but masks it quickly. "It's not like you can go into the girl's bathroom with her, right?" she says and it's then you both realize you've got no other choice. He looks to you, trying to gauge how you'd feel about it, and you sigh. Maybe this was for the best, you could finally get things off your chest with JJ. It was only fair. He seems to clock the instant you've decided, and concedes.

"I'll be right out here." he promises, and you nod slowly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't get the chance to.

"Spence." JJ says his name a bit more sternly, and he resists the urge to cut his eyes in her direction. He ignores her long enough to take in your ailed hand, he saw the way the skin began to redden and swell. He seems cross as he passes you off to JJ, and you feel a bit silly being fussed over for something as minute as a coffee burn. JJ's earnest in the way she takes you to the nearest women's restroom. You hiss the second the cold water comes in contact with your skin.

You don't say anything to JJ though, losing your nerve the second the two of you were alone. She looks like she's waiting for you to say something though, eyes brimming with some sort of unease. She was reading you, using her new skills to profile you. You suppose that's exactly what pushes you to finally speak. "We said we'd never profile one another." you remind her crossly, and she's sheepish. "Just because you're doing it in your head doesn't make it any less invasive." you keep your wrist in place, hissing silently.

"If you would just talk to me I wouldn't have to go that far." she counters, and you blink. Fair, but you had every right to keep your distance from her. Just because the rest of the team was still more or less unaware of JJ's role in harboring the secret of Emily, you'd read right through her.

"What's there to talk about exactly?" you ask. "None of us want to be here dealing with this." and you take the route of the naive girl.

"I'm not talking about with the trial... and the senators." she shakes her head, and she's almost pleading as she tries to catch your eyes in the mirror. "I'm talking about Emily." she deadpans. "Everything that happened?" she proceeds. "You've hardly said a word to her since she came back." she doesn't want to come off like she's scolding you, and so she takes in a breath before her tone can become defensive.

"I don't speak to ghosts." and it's a quiet little dig that she hears all the same. It forces a tense silence to wash over the restroom, the only sound slicing through the awkwardness is the water rushing from the spout. JJ clears her throat, blinking a few times as she adjusts your wrist, allowing the water to evenly coat your burn. Only a few more minutes of this and you could make your grand escape.

"That's not fair." she finally voices her thoughts with a deep sigh.

"Isn't it?" you snap. "Seven months we thought she was dead." and you suppose that was a mistake of hers, getting you started. "Pretty lucky that you were off at the Pentagon, right?" you ask sourly. "Or was it lucky that you were in on the whole scam? I mean you were at the funeral, but you didn't have to cry, you didn't have to grieve." you accuse, and JJ's jaw slackens, clearly surprised at your outburst.

"I lost my friend too, okay?" she counters and you scoff.

"Did you?" you argue. "All those nights I called you crying, all those texts, those check ins... how long did you know Emily was still alive?" you demand, and JJ's feeling cornered, and her heart rate is picking up. She knew there'd be mixed feelings about this, but she'd never expected to ever be at odds with you. You, Spencer, and JJ rounded out the younger crowd on the team, it was your job to stick together. "Answer me." you insist, and you sound so crushed as you speak.

"I knew the whole time." she answers, and you nod your head, because of course you already knew.

"Exactly." you sneer. "You're a liar." you hate how angry this whole thing makes you, but you can't deny it. They'd played with your feelings, all of them, and now you were meant to behave like nothing was wrong. "Did you know about Hotch?" you ask, and JJ flinches. She doesn't answer for a while, and the water seems to rush even louder in your ears.

"I told him it wasn't smart." she finally answers. "But we needed to ensure that Emily wasn't at risk, it was harmless... just some flirting to keep you from getting too close to the truth." and JJ is speaking as if this wasn't some major breach of your position as coworkers and alleged friends. "He'd never cross the line." she reminds you, and the reminder that yeah, Hotch would never be with you makes you wince.

"And he didn't." she says this like she knows for certain. "It was flirting, Y/N. it didn't mean anything, we just needed you to..." and she trails off when she sees how destroyed you look at her admission. "Y/N..." she trails off, and you inhale sharply.

"Don't." you exhale, and you snatch your hand from her grasp. The cool air of the bathroom immediately attacks the welts blooming on your hand. You don't have time to pay them any mind.

"We just wanted to protect you... and keep Emily safe in the process. The more of us that knew Emily was alive, the more of a liability we'd be while Doyle was still on the run." she says, and you suppose in the grand scheme you understand. As profilers, as special agents working for the FBI they'd done great work. As your friends, as people you'd considered family for years... they'd betrayed you.

Plain and simple.

"Congratulations, you did exactly what you meant to." you say dully, and you sniffle, though no tears are set to come. Instead you feel more anger blossoming in the pit of your gut. "I hope it was worth it." and it's dramatic, but you deserve the dramatics, sidestepping the blonde and leaving her behind just as Emily is stepping inside. She looks at you wide-eyed, before she sees JJ standing there seemingly frazzled.

"Is everything okay?" she questions, and you don't offer her an answer, instead leaving the restroom as your earlier words ring in your head. I don't talk to ghosts. And you don't, and despite your history you'd never allow yourself to. You find your way back to the seats that led to the courtroom, Derek was gone, the only person still there was Spencer. He stands up as soon as he hears your shoes.

"Where's Derek?" you ask quietly.

"He left with Garcia." he answers quietly. "I guess they're dismissed for now. They're in with Dave now." he explains, and your eyes shift to the door. More than likely you or Spencer would be next.

You sit down, and Spencer follows you, sinking back into his seat as his legs just barely brush against yours. "Are you scared?" you ask, and Spencer's head shakes.

"Are you?" he shoots back, and you look away from the door.

"Not of this." you admit. "But of what comes after." you add and Spencer's pretty brown eyes are swimming with confusion. "Can we really all bounce back from something like this?" you ask, and it's rhetorical, but he answers you all the same.

"We've come back from worse." he reminds you, and that faint smile is worming back onto your face.

"Sure we have." you agree numbly. Spencer's eyes drop to your hand.

"How does it feel?" he asks, and you follow his gaze with a shrug of your shoulders. He doesn't look pleased by this approach, and it makes you sigh.

"Just feels like I ran some water over it." you admit, and Spencer chuckles. "A bit anticlimactic if I'm honest with you, Doctor." and you're partly teasing, mostly because it's so easy.

"You'll need some sort of petroleum jelly... there's some pretty good products that aren't at all carcinogenic like the leading brands." he begins on a tangent, and it makes you smile a bit bigger. "That with some gauze is the perfect remedy for such a mild burn." he proceeds and you look down at it. There's a moment of silence between you, before he's talking again. "Can I ask what happened?" he whispers.

You hum, almost like you're pretending you can't hear him.

"With the coffee? Was it not good? I tried to follow your order exactly." he says and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"It wasn't you or the coffee, Spence." you promise him, and without thinking you reach out, small hand resting on his shoulder. "The coffee was perfect." you insist, and he relaxes, but not enough. "I guess I'm just thrown about all of this." you proceed. "No matter how much I try to remind myself that they did this to protect Emily... that their deception was for a good reason, it just makes me angrier. Why is it that I have to rationalize being angry?" you question.

"I have to reign my feelings in for the sake of the team." you're careful not to grow loud. Spencer's eyebrows are pressed inwardly, head shaking.

"You don't." he denies you quickly. "You shouldn't." he corrects.

"You're right." you agree, and your silent for only a second. "I wish everyone could be like you, Spence." you say, and your words surprise him. He feels this familiar wave of adoration that always seems to swallow him whole whenever he was around you.

"Really?" he knows it might be pathetic, to be hopeful for something like this. The chance to hear what popped in your head whenever you thought of him.

"Yeah." you say firmly, and he tries not to look too eager. "You're so smart." you tell him, and he knows this, but it still feels nice hearing it from you. "And you're always nice to me." you add with a quiet laugh. "And you'd never lie to me would you?" you ask, and in truth, it's not a fair question. Spencer wasn't in the position the others were in.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and he fears it may be the wrong response. You don't even react, at least not that he can tell.

"Nothing." you settle on, head shaking from side to side. "Forget I mentioned it." and he doesn't really want to remind you that his memory quite literally makes that impossible. "I heard that you weren't fighting the suspension." you say conversationally, and he's surprised, mostly because the only person he'd told about that was Derek. Which meant you had been talking about him when he wasn't around.

"I guess I just stand by everything we did." he tells you, and your hand still hurts a bit, but it's definitely a problem for a later version of you.

"Me too. I'm glad we got Doyle, and Declan's safe." you exhale, and despite your anguish towards the team, you meant every word.

"And the team's back together." Spencer himself doesn't sound so convinced. You look over at him at this, your own unconvinced expression slowly cracking through his attempt at a cool facade.

"Is it?" you ask, and Spencer's face softens, a small little frown taking over his otherwise usually content face. He couldn't admit it now, mostly because it didn't feel like the right time, but he paid attention to you. He knew all about your complicated feelings for Hotch "I don't want to be on a team with people who purposely keep me in the dark about things." you ask, and Spencer pauses.

"I'm sure they wouldn't if they had another choice." he offers, and it's not how he feels at all, but it's what you need to hear.

"You don't believe that." you deny, and Spencer can't fight his chuckle. "Or maybe you do, you've always been good at seeing the best in people."

"Oh, do you think so?" it's a bit of a surprise. With your job description it would've made more sense for you to tell him that he saw the worst in people. He felt it was a fair thing to say that he was exceptionally good at his job, but it's then he recognizes what it is you're truly saying, or at least alluding to. It makes his face heat up immediately, cheeks blossoming a rosy red that makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Of course." you promise, and then you're looking at him again. Your face is one of the prettiest he's ever seen, and it's not even subtle. You seem a bit uncertain of your own allure though, which to him is a major shock. "You're like the best person ever." you add, and he expects you to snicker or show some sign that you were joking, but you don't. Bad for him, because his deluded mind full of fantasies starring you would take words like those the wrong way.

"I think you're the best person ever..." he's whispered this, but you hear it all the same, and he's lucky enough to witness the way your entire face morphs. Despite the bleariness in your eyes, you beam brightly. He hates though, that you start to cry. It starts with one tear slipping down your cheek and dripping into your lap. The onslaught comes right after, and before you know it, you're choking on sobs.

"God..." he hears the bitter tang of self-loathing that attaches and weaves itself into your otherwise honey-filled tone. "You're making this so hard, Spencer." you huff, and you scrub at your face harshly. He doesn't understand, but he's too frozen in place to ask you what you mean. Lucky him, you seem to know that you've got explain a bit, so you do. "I'm gonna resign." you say this quietly, sniffling as more tears fall. Spencer feels like he's misheard you.

He wants to have misheard you. He flounders a bit, and he's mentally scolding himself, because he has to hurry the fuck up and say something. "You can't!" and he's scolding himself again for sounding too eager. You jump a bit at the outburst, and he winces right along with you. "We just got everyone back." he reminds you, and you exhale, head nodding in understanding.

"I know." you promise him. "Why do you think this is so hard. You think I want to be the asshole that turns the unit on its head?" you ask. "But I can't stay here and pretend that everything's fine... or act like I don't feel thrown about all of this." you proceed, and of course, Spencer understands, he's upset he was lied too as well.

"I understand." he admits with a sigh, and you let out a quiet noise of relief, almost like you were worried he'd be upset with you. He assumes this is just him being delusional again. You look like you have something sitting on the tip of your tongue, so he stays silent to give you the room to say all that you need to.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone?" you ask. You chuckle at the look he shoots you, "Not just for a second, Spence." you proceed. "I mean like... take your breath away, kind of almost-in-love feelings." you indulge, and Spencer's keen to shut his mouth. Yes, is the loud and resounding answer that rings in his head, because foolishly he'd allows you to captivate him like the siren you were almost three years prior. He'd be a dummy to tell you such now though.

"I-" he blinks harshly, eyes feeling too dry. "I can't say I have." he lies, and he remembers your words from earlier, how you'd praised him for being someone who would never lie to you. You don't seem to notice his deception though, and if you do, you're too in your own head to comment on it.

"Good." you say with a shuddered breath. "They're nothing but a headache, especially when the person doesn't want you back." you exhale the words, and it's like a dagger is being lunged into his chest. How dense could you possibly be with all your super smarts?

"Did something happen with Hotch?" he asks, and now it's your turn to be embarrassed, face pinching up as you choke on a breath. "I don't mean to pry, if it's personal... it's just that-" he trails off, seemingly waiting for you to berate him or tell him to back off. You don't, instead your nose twitches, and you begin to look at your shoes. "Y/N?" he nudges you with his elbow, and it's light.

"No." you finally say, head shaking. "I thought maybe..." you trail off, more embarrassment slicing at you as you cringe. "But it was all a ruse, just a way to keep me from getting too close, and figuring out everything about Emily before they wanted us to know." you say and Spencer's eyebrows furrow.

"They?" he pries, and you look at him like he's silly.

"Hotch and JJ." you answer plainly, and it takes Spencer a second. JJ who he'd went to for comfort for ten weeks? He blinks at you, and you shrug. "So you see... anyone that could take my feelings and use them to manipulate me... are they really worth sticking around for?" you ask, and Spencer doesn't want to validate you in this way. He wants to be selfish, he wants you to stay on the team.

He thinks about how devasted everyone would be. How devasted he would be to walk into the bullpen and find that your desk was empty.

"I don't want you to go..." he admits, and it's quite pitiful, the sadness that soaks the words like gasoline. You find yourself chomping on your lip again, nails pressing into the cuts of your palms, and Spencer's catching your bad habits in real time.

It's a bit invasive, the way his hand surges out, and stops you in your tracks. "Please don't do this." and you're not sure if he's talking about leaving the unit, or if he's referring to the gashes littering your hands. When he holds your palm out flat, and rubs his thumb across the bleeding indentations, you find that you understand quickly.

Every few seconds it's ebbing with more droplets of blood, and he's quick to wipe them away like they offend him. Just as he's moving to say something else, the doors to the courtroom are opening, and Dave Rossi is exiting, his eyes immediately on you and Spencer. You must look foolish, hands intertwined as you stare wide-eyed at the team's senior agent. It's probably why Spencer is dropping your hand as you're snatching it away from his grasp.

You still find that your eyes are quick to appraise one another. He's looking at you, and you're staring back, mouths parted as if you'd been caught. Had you been caught? Had there really been anything to catch? You don't have time to answer, because you're being called next. You frown at Spencer, standing to your feet as he feels his pulse threaten to leap to disrespectful speeds.

"Y/N..." he calls after you, and you stop for a second. Eager eyes fall back on him, and he's trailing off, because the look in your eyes says it all. If you got out of this without being fired, you could imagine a world where quitting the FBI no longer made you sick to your stomach. Silence befalls the space, and he shakes his head after a beat. You look disappointed but not surprised, inhaling deep and audibly as you march towards the court room.

Spencer doesn't know what you're going to say, but he hopes recalling all you'd been through in the last few weeks will be enough to make you stay. At least until he has the courage to ensure that you leaving the team doesn't equate to losing you entirely and completely.

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shewroteaworld · 6 months

Text

PCOS

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

100 Follower Celebration Request: "🤨 + 'You’re braver than you think and more beautiful than you know.' "

Premise: You've been keeping a secret from your boyfriend. At the most inopportune time, it thrusts itself into the light. He doesn't have the reaction you feared.

Warnings: mentions of Criminal Minds--typical violence, mentions of nausea, discussions of chronic illness, mentions of poor self-esteem

Word count: approx. 3,000

When the unsub impaled you with the knife, you gasped awake.

You blinked open your eyes to pitch black darkness, a pulse of 200 beats per minute, a stomach frothing with queasiness, and cold skin sticky with sweat.

Something velvety constricted your body like cling wrap. The suffocation was akin to being buried six feet under. Fortunately, the feather pillow cushioning your head and the soft foam squashed beneath your fingertips broke through your sleep-addled mind.

It was only a nightmare. You were still laying in bed next to Aaron Hotcher.

Your breath caught, and you went rigor mortis still. Once A’s soft snoring reached you, you relaxed.

Tiredly, you smiled at a ceiling you couldn’t see. You didn’t wake him. The last thing A needed after a horrifying case was to not only be woken before dawn but also be woken by his girlfriend gasping in terror.

Your boyfriend of six months, Aaron, was an FBI supervisory special agent. As a civilian, there was plenty of work information to which you were not privy, especially if a case went south. Often, Aaron didn’t tell you where he flew for work. All you knew was, he’d be away for days. However, sometimes you’d know where Aaron was flying back from once the case was handled. Either, he could tell you once the target was apprehended or you found out via news report.

Based on the news reports from New Mexico that featured the BAU's media liaison, Jennifer Jareau, a cult leader ended his sadistic campaign with an AR-15 shootout and a murder-suicide that caught the state police completely off guard. The FBI caught the scent of his plan, but by the time they sniffed it out, they were 5 steps too far behind. Thankfully, Aaron nor any of his unit members died.

Aaron returned to his DC brownstone to ceramic pans full of your best dishes— all piping hot— on his kitchen counter. You made sure to prepare enough food to last him a couple weeks; emotionally trying work events and tons of paperwork were the perfect recipe for Aaron to not eat enough, and you weren’t going to make it easy for him. The past work weeks had been a whirlwind for you as well; you’d billed 15 plus hours every day for the past week to resuscitate a major merger on its deathbed. You set the last dirtied spoon on A’s drying rack two seconds before he unlocked his front door.

Aaron left the details of his past case vague. He kept the details of his emotional state even vaguer. But you could tell in the extra tight grip of his hello hug that he was in need of grounding. You anchored him with a constant, comforting grip, on his calloused hands. You fed him your best mac and cheese; you even cut back on your beloved pepperjack for his spice sensitive taste buds. Later that evening, you took a soothing shower together and collapsed into bed. You broke your typical bedtime routine: instead of discussing the latest novel you’ve read or life realizations, you watched a so-bad-it's-good corporate soap and ripped it a part for its inaccuracies. That’s when Aaron laughed for the first time since he came home.

You were relieved you didn’t wake him. Even though food comas were “scientifically disproven,” a factoid Aaron passed on to you from his team's young genius, Doctor Spencer Reid, you hoped the welcome home dinner you made him helped sustain his deep sleep.

Your adrenal glands calmed. You closed your eyes, but, not a second later, you were rudely interrupted by a sharp pain three inches below your belly button--- right where the unsub stabbed you.

It was just a dream. With a quiet huff, you rolled onto your side and curled against Aaron’s back.

That’s when you felt it— a tacky liquid sticking your satin pj pants to your thighs. A swell of nausea overtook you, and you feared it was not a byproduct of anxiety alone.

Gingerly, you slid out of bed. With the nausea sliding up your esophagus and the sensation of the room spinning, it wouldn’t take Holmes to confirm the cause, but you refused to panic without irrefutable evidence.

Gently, you folded the covers back. Not daring to turn on your phone flashlight, you tapped your home screen and raised the brightness.

When you hovered the light over the bed sheet, deep red splotches of smeared period blood screamed against Aaron’s stark white sheets.

Something deep and cold coiled in the pit of your stomach. You clicked your phone off. Carefully, you took a few steps back from the bed.

Your stomach whirled. A shiver crawled up your spine. You hurriedly tiptoed across the carpet to Aaron’s ensuite. Even in your haste, you quietly shut the door behind you. As soon as the door was in its oak frame, you turned the lock.

You pulled the roots of your hair with an iron grip. Shit. Shit.

You collapsed onto the edge of Aaron’s bathtub. There was blood all over your pj bottoms. You stood in a panic. You looked back and, of course, in a matter of three seconds, you stained the white acrylic.

You went to his faucet and patted ice cold water on your cheeks. Get a grip. Stress would only make the inevitable worse. Why it was possible for your body to malfunction this severely, you’ll never understand.

If you’d only been blessed with a normal body, one that menstruated on a timely schedule and didn’t come with a laundry list of ugly, graphic symptoms, tonight would be nothing more than a minor embarrassment.

The guilt for waking Aaron on tonight of all nights would be strong, but all you would have to do is tap him awake, apologize, and attack your blood splotches with a hydrogen peroxide–soaked cotton ball and the night would revert back to a typical night with your boyfriend.

You wished you were well enough to clean his sheets. Unfortunately, for you, it wasn't possible. You’d get even more nauseated. Or too lightheaded. You already felt sick when you woke up, which meant you were menstruating for a few hours.

How did you not catch this? Your body at least has the decency of shooting some warning flares, and the new medication your OB/GYN prescribed three months ago was far from 100 percent effective at calming your PMS symptoms.

You ran a hand over your face and through your hair. You were two weeks early after billing unbelievable hours for that merger dispute. This was stress induced.

You forced a deep breath. You needed to find a way out of this.

Suddenly, your vision swam. With no other option, you sat on the stained portion of Aaron’s bathtub. You gripped your stomach as the pain twisted deeper into your abdomen. You hunched over yourself.

Tonight could not become Aaron’s baptism by fire into your PCOS. He was exhausted physically and emotionally. He shouldn’t have to deal with all the baggage that comes when you experience the most natural thing in the world for a woman.

The nausea crawled up your throat, and you forcefully swallowed it back with a groan.

You put your head in your hands. You didn’t bring enough pads. Or tampons. You didn’t have any anti-emetics. What if you got a migraine? What if you fainted and A woke to what appeared to be your corpse lying on his bathroom tile?

Your spiral was interrupted by the man in question. “Honey?” Aaron called, voice strung.

Before you could respond, he yelled. “Honey?!”

You stood, and Aaron’s bathroom tilted on an axis. You barely managed to stumble to the doorway.

Fumbling, you unlocked the door just as Aaron reached the it.

His brown eyes were wide blown and wild. You'd never seen that expression on him before. “Are you okay?” He held your forearms as if he were afraid you’d crumple with too harsh a touch.

“I saw the blood and I…” He swallowed. He scanned you from head to toe repeatedly. “I thought the worst.” He whispered. Your heart fell through the pit of your stomach to the soles of your feet.

He cupped your cheeks. “Baby, you’re really off color. I need you to talk to me. Where are you hurt?” The blood stains on the back of your pants were out of his view.

“I’m not hurt, A.” You said.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Your side of the bed is blood stained.” He said, his voice taking a sterner edge.

“I’m on my monthly.”

“Oh.” He released your arms. His cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, honey, I…” He ran his hands over his bedhead. “I should’ve…I jumped to conclusions.” He sounded shocked with himself.

“You’ve had a long day.” You whispered. “Give me a minute. I’ll clean.”

Suddenly, everything went blurry. Your muscles slacked, and your forehead dropped onto Aaron’s pectoral.

A hand was back on your forearm, this time with a tighter grip. A calloused hand tapped your cheek. “Hey. Hey. Baby. Stay with me.”

Carefully, he walked you away from the door. “Sit.” Fully supporting your back, he sat you on the floor and leaned you against the bathtub.

As soon as your back was fully supported, his ensuite regained color. You could take a deep breath again.

Aaron knelt in front of you. “Honey,” Aaron said, his stare piercing through yours. He stroked your hair out of your face. “I need you to be honest with me. What’s wrong?”

“I told you.” More accurately, you began to tell him.

You shivered. He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead and stroked down your cheekbone.

“I don’t have a fever.” You insisted. “It’s just my monthly.”

He pecked your forehead. He didn’t believe you. “Is it always this bad?” He asked with a mix of concern and skepticism.

“Yes.” You sighed. “I have polycystic ovarian syndrome.”

“PCOS?” He asked.

You were shocked. “You know what that is?”

He nodded. “I’ve heard of it.”

“It can make my time of the month super severe.” Stubborn tears leaked from your eyes. You wiped your cheeks with the cuff of your pajama shirt.

You were supposed to be the woman who kicked ass in the boy’s club of corporate law by day and kicked ass as the perfect girlfriend by night.

He was not supposed to see you trembling before him, huddled in pain. He was not supposed to see you on the verge of throwing up from period cramps when he almost died in a hail of bullets less than twelve hours ago. He was never supposed to see how weak you truly were.

He took over wiping your tears with his thumbs. “Scale of 1 to 10—how bad is the pain?”

“Maybe an 8?” You said. It was a 9. If you could’ve managed without your head aching, you would’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. The one thing about dating a profiler is they always know when you’re fibbing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

You sniffled. “About my condition or that I’m in pain?”

“I think those are a package deal.” He said gently.

You sighed. Your instinct was to lie, but you stopped yourself. Aaron could see right through you. He was one of the best behavioral analysts in the entire world. For the first leg of your relationship, you’d managed to avoid this confrontation which was a blessing in itself.

“I didn’t want you to see how sick I get. How sick I am.” You toyed with the ends of your hair. “I didn’t want you to know how weak I am.” You whispered.

His eyes softened. “Honey, you’re not weak because you have PCOS."

“There are months where I can’t even stand up.” You said, voice taught with tears.

“And that’s why I need to know." He smoothed your hair. "Have you been going through this every month by yourself?”

“Since I moved out of my mother’s place for undergrad, yeah.” You sniffled with a watery smirk.

He wrapped an arm around your back, then hesitated. “Can I hug you?”

“Please.” You whispered

He pulled you into a hug. His hold was looser than normal, but his embrace still filled you with warmth from head to toe.

“Darling, I love you so much.” Aaron said. “I would never look down on you for this.”

“It’s just…I’m not used to….”

“Being this vulnerable.” Aaron finished sympathetically.

You nod. “It’s just…I get so sick. It makes me so ugly.”

He shook his head. “Hey.” He made sure you were looking him in the eye. “You’re never ugly.”

You chuckled. “You’ll revisit that answer when you see me dry heaving at 3 in the morning.” You said, unpleasant nights resurfacing.

His lips don’t do so much as quirk upwards. Rather, he looked shattered. He squeezed your hands. “I won’t.”

“What can I do to help?” He pivoted.

“You can change the sheets.” You looked to the top corner of the ensuite door frame as more tears welled. “And go back to bed.”

“I won't ever leave you on the bathroom floor in pain, alone.”

“But you should.” You said. He cupped your cheeks with his homey hands. He gently pulled your chin back to level your gaze, but you resisted.

“Why should I?” He asked.

“Because you’re tired. And I’m sick. And I’m broken. And there’s nothing you can do.” You make eye contact and immediately are wracked with full body sobs.

Suddenly, every second of you’d spent building up your self-esteem went out the window as your deepest insecurities broke through. You were never supposed to be a burden to him.

He pulled you into chest and wrapped you in his arms..“Helping you when you’re sick is never a burden. I love you so much.”

“What if you get tired of me?” What if this made him stop loving you?

“I won’t.” He promised.

He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “We’ll return to this conversation when you’re feeling better.” He stroked your cheekbone with his thumb. “What helps? Do you have medication?”

“I have daily medication. I’m still working with my doctor to get a regimine that works.” You wiped your eyes. “Heat helps. I drink this peppermint tea to help my stomach when I’m at home.” You rambled.

“The one by that British brand?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“When I saw their tea in your apartment, I bought some to keep here. I might have some peppermint. I’ll be back, honey.” He left you with a kiss on the cheek.

The tailoring he did to his world to accommodate you would never cease to flutter your heart.

The pleasant moment was quickly halted by your stomach bubbling.

As A’s slippers padded down the stairs, you crawled across the tile floor over to the toilet. You forced your head between your knees.

About ten minutes later, you heard the clack of his slippers against the bathroom floor. “Nauseous?” He asked.

You nodded.

He sat the mug close to you. “Your tea to your left within arm's reach. I’m going to grab some blankets and pillows. I’ll be right back. Shout if you need something.”

You learned by “some blankets and pillows” Aaron meant an entire blanket set.

As you leaned your head back against the wall, Aaron began prepping your makeshift bed. In your peripheral vision, you laid pillows as floor cushioning.

“I won’t judge you if you go to sleep in bed. This gets ugly.”

“Baby, I’m an FBI agent for the BAU. Even if you threw up on me, it wouldn’t make the list of the top fifty gross things I’ve experienced by miles.”

You scooched onto a pillow. Aaron slipped the blankets around you.

Your head found the soft crook of his neck. He pressed his head onto yours, and the pressure instantly relaxed you. Unfortunately, your your uterine muscles corkscrewed. You squirmed in pain.

Aaron shushed you. “You need to breathe. This will pass, just breathe.”

You clasped his hand like a lifeline. What feels like hours later, when the pain begins to ebb away, you pant, “It’s alright if you need to go to sleep.” Aaron already relayed his plans to go into the office on Saturday morning to attack some dense paperwork.

He placed his free hand overtop of yours. “You will always be a priority for me. I hope I’ve shown you by now that I will always take care of you.”

You smiled into his shoulder.

“Also, the heating pad is charging in the bedroom, and, before you ask about the sheets, they’re already in the wash.”

You sighed in happiness. “I could kiss you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?” Gently, he pressed his lips to the top of your forehead.

You smiled again. You could count on your hand the number of times you’d smiled when you’re like this: on the bathroom floor, nauseous and dizzy.

You squeezed his knee with your free hand. “You promise you’ll stay with me?”

“Of course I’ll stay with you. I love you. And, just for the record…this may be tough, but you're not ugly and you're not weak. You're braver than you think and more beautiful than you know. I'm grateful to be the one holding you through this."

In the coming days, you’re certain you’ll have a laundry list of next steps from your boyfriend: call your doctor, check in with a dietitian, monitor stress, anything he could think of to lessen these symptoms. He’ll probably want to talk more about why you didn’t tell him sooner.

But, for now, you're both satisfied with sitting on the bathroom floor and riding this out. And in a moment where the pain could split you in pieces, you somehow felt whole.

Author's Note: I'm happy to say the 100 follower celebration fics are finally going live!

I hope you're having a good day or night! Thanks for taking the time to read my work! And, to anyone struggling with a condition similar to the reader's: you, too, are braver than you think and more beautiful than you know!

xoxo,

shewroteaworld

#aaron hotchner x reader #shewroteaworld 100 follower celebration #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner

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adora-but-ginger · 22 days

Text

Psych you out in the end

Word Count: ~400

Synopsis: The BAU is known for its impulse. According to Gideon, that meant hiring you.

Pairing: Eventual Spencer Reid x gender neutral! reader

Warnings: s2 setting for this one, which means, and say it all together now, glasses reid is here!

masterlist

next addition to the collection

A/N: AAAAAND I'M BACK BABEYYYY. Sorry for the delay in writing (it's been months whoopsie). Had to quickly finish getting a degree--but I'm back! This is the start to a series of stories that can be read as stand alones, but also altogether. This is simply just a quick intro, but I am SO excited for this. Think of this as an adaptation of the show psych into the BAU except the reader is an actual medium.

"Gideon, you're pulling our leg right now." Morgan was flabbergasted to say the least at what his boss just announced to the room full of agents (and a doctor).

"I most certainly am not. Believe what you'd like, but the matter of the fact is that they're good at their job and based on their prior experience they will make a beneficial addition to the team. The BAU is full of exceptions, and they will be no different." They were all thinking the same thing--what was Gideon on?

"There's no way the FBI would hire a 'psychic'". Spencer put air quotes around the word. After all, he was a man of science.

"I actually prefer the term medium, thank you very much, Dr. Reid." You figured this was the right time to come into the office. You knew going into this that there would be a lot of push back and when word got out about Gideon's decision to hire you for what you really were, people were going to talk. Technically, you were hired under the title of 'professional profiler with a concentration of psychological tells,' but that was just a fancy title. It wasn't like you were a money grab, you truly were good at what you did. You were in a similar position as one Penelope Garcia Gideon told you, in the manner that you were on the FBI's radar. You knew too much in some people's eyes, so you were either offered cell time or this job. You took the latter.

You made it your business to know what you were walking into. Derek Morgan had the muscles, Emily Prentiss made your heart skip a beat, JJ was the communication liaison, Aaron Hotchner was the second in command, Penelope Garcia was the tech master, and Dr. Spencer Reid was the genius.

"You know, the term medium actually emerged in the late 19th century when--" the doctor started to ramble, but was soon cut off by another team member. Hotchner.

"Reid?" A look his way made silence ensue. "This was a very...impulsive design we made, don't give us reason to regret it. Okay agent?"

"It's actually doctor, sir. I have a PhD in Psychology."

He nodded towards you, face showing no emotion. "Doctor it is. JJ?"

You took a careful seat next to the Reid, who in response pushed his glasses slightly up his nose with a side glance towards you before tuning into the case description.

This was going to be something, that's for sure.

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #bau #criminal minds x reader #gender neutral reader

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rreids · 2 months

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MASTERLIST

gn!reader unless other specified, mdni with works marked 18+

spencer reid - in the moments between - waiting for a case to end with spencer - want - spencer can't get enough of you (fem reader, 18+) - progress - spencer is ready to be intimate again following the aftermath of tobias (18+) - practice run - teaching spencer what it's like to be on a date - little by little - spencer helps reader feel better after a depressive episode - promises - spencer comforts reader (gn, has bpd) after he has to suddenly cancel plans - kiss stains - covering spencer in your lipstick marks (like the mgg video) - untitled drabble - using a vibrator on him for the first time (18+) - show me - spencer wants you to show him what you do when thinking of him (18+), for my sleepover event - angel - spencer thinks you look angelic (fem reader, 18+) - cramps - spencer helps you lessen your period cramps - truth - reader asks spencer the truth about what jj told him (fem reader, 14 x 15 spoilers) - tell me - in which hotch finds out spencer is dating his daughter - puzzles - you attempt to finish a puzzle with spencer - grounded - spencer and hotch help an injured reader feel grounded again (fem, hotch's daughter!reader) - childhood comfort - in which spencer finds a stuffer animal from reader's childhood and thinks it is adorable - flaws - spencer comforts reader about their scars - untitled drabble - 18+ aaron hotchner - late nights - helping a tired hotch get ready for bed — early mornings - you'd promised kisses in the morning (18)+ - be good to me - age gap, getting with hotch (one 18+ scene) - out of it - no happy ending (angst), aaron lost you - need - soft couch sex (fem reader, 18+) - close - first time together, for my sleepover event (fem reader, 18+) - lunch break - you bring him gifts at work, for my sleepover event - want you - you want aaron more than anything (fem reader, 18+) derek morgan - like molasses - flirting with a cowboy who promises to slowly steal your heart (fem reader, very loose inspo from rdr2) emily prentiss - nothing yet jennifer jareau - untitled drabble - helping jj finish up work and go home - untitled drabble - car sex with liaison jj (gn reader, 18+)

chip taylor - here - you don't leave chip the morning after

#i will write for elle penelope etc.. just put the members i feel i am most likely to write for :)#masterlist

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mxmmyprentiss · 3 months

Text

your ivy grows

Summary: It’s unfair, Emily thought. Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ. And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning. Genre: Angst (with happy ending) Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader ; Jennifer Jareau x reader Warnings: none Word count: 6.6K

A/N: 2 fics in 2 days because my brain is trying to avoid other feelings. Also, this does not follow any canon timeline in the show. All likes, shares and comments are very much encouraged and appreciated. Thank you! Enjoy!

AO3

It all starts when you join the BAU.

You walk past the glass doors and immediately feel eyes on you. Of course, you’re a new face. They have never seen you before. You are instantly intimidated by the suits and the files on the desk and the dark brown eyes staring at you.

“Hello,” A tall raven-haired woman approaches you. The one with dark brown eyes. “Do you need help with something?”

You bow your head a little as a sign of respect. “Hi, I’m here for the unit chief? Agent Aaron Hotchner?”

“Oh, sure. Let me show you to his office. You must be the transferee from the Hostage Rescue Team.” Emily offers her hand for a handshake. “I’m SSA Emily Prentiss.”

You shake her hand firmly and smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“You too.”

When Emily leaves you at Hotch’s office, something in her ribcage hurts and her stomach suddenly feels weird. And when you mouthed a thank you and flashed her a smile that reached your eyes, Emily thought her heart might drop to the floor.

After a short talk with the unit chief, Hotch introduces you to the team. You meet all of them - Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia.

“Where’s JJ?” Hotch asks.

“I’m here, I’m here,” A blonde blue-eyed woman approaches the team. She’s carrying tons of files in her arms. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, communications liaison. Everybody calls me JJ.”

And the way your eyes twinkle as you and JJ shake hands doesn’t get past Emily’s scrutinizing eyes.

Emily has yet to know why but her rib cage might explode because of how fast her heart goes.

---

Your adjustment with the team isn’t easy at all. They have known each other for years and you’re the newcomer after all. But all of them have been kind and welcoming to you so far.

You are partnered with Emily and Derek most of the time. You spend a lot of time sitting at the back of the SUV and listening to them talk about their theories regarding the UnSub, which you have been fond of because you learn a lot from their insights.

Emily has always been considerate of you though. She always asks your opinions which you assume she does so you won’t feel left out or unheard.

“You can always speak your mind, Y/N. You’ll never know what might help our case.” Emily says to you, tapping your shoulder.

“I will try. Thank you, Emily.”

Emily has never loved her name until you said it and Emily knew she’s a goner.

---

It is the first time you accepted an invitation for drinks from your colleagues. It’s not the first time they asked though. If you’re not wrong, this would be the third.

Spencer was the first person who invited you but you politely turned down the invitation due to your throbbing migraine at that time.

The second time, it was Emily. She told you the team is gathering for dinner and drinks at Rossi's and everyone would love it if you would come. But you feel something’s off. You didn’t deserve to dance with their victory just yet. You haven’t earned it yet. So, you told Emily you can’t make it because you’re meeting your parents that night and you haven’t seen them in a while, which is technically true. (Hint: Your parents died when you were sixteen.)

Tonight though, the third time, JJ approaches you. Her smile is so radiant that the sun would be so jealous.

JJ sits on your desk. “So … we’re betting who could make you say yes to drinks with the team.” JJ speaks faintly, but still just loud enough for the people on the next desks to hear. “I need the cash.”

You snort. “What’s in it for me?” You ask boldly.

Derek wolf-whistles. Spencer watches the scene unravel. And Emily tries to hide a glare by playing minesweeper on her computer.

“Pasta, wine and my eternal gratitude and friendship.” JJ folds her arms. “So, what do you say? We’ll split the cash?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Deal.” You shake JJ’s hand.

Groans are heard and JJ does a mini dance while collecting 20s from her friends. You catch Emily’s quick stare. She’s probably pissed at you for losing the bet.

---

Since that night at Rossi’s, you and JJ start spending more time together, both in the field and at the office. It’s not your fault though. It’s just something that happens. After all, Hotch declares who goes with who.

During your work travels, JJ always chooses you to bunk with her at the hotels you stay at while the others mix and match with their own roommates. Nobody else complains and so you don’t either. You like spending time with her and it’s not so bad when you hear her sleeping soundly at nights that leave you awake.

You and the team are in New Orleans for a case. New Orleans PD has requested the FBI’s help about a series of murders involving several - twelve, so far - white redhead women.

There’s something reserved about JJ’s smile when she approaches a certain policeman you don’t recognize. He introduces himself as William LaMontagne Jr. and you catch the way JJ’s shoulder brush against his multiple times when he discusses the case.

“He and JJ had a thing,” Emily tells you as you both proceed to the crime scene. “On and off, I guess.”

“Oh.” You frown. You don’t know why Emily is telling you this. Maybe you should try being more subtle.

Emily wishes she didn’t tell you this instead because the frown on your face has been more frequent as the days of this unsolved case pass.

---

JJ invites you to a pub near the hotel. The BAU and New Orleans PD just caught the serial killer this morning and somehow, everything feels right again in the city. You happily accept her invitation and put on your coat, walking past the rooms of your colleagues who must already be asleep.

JJ links your arms together the whole time of the walk to the pub. The only time she lets go of you was when you saw a familiar face waiting for her at the counter.

Will.

JJ kisses him on the cheek and he holds her wrist when she places a hand on his chest.

You want to vomit. Must be the acid. But you haven’t had drinks yet?

You go back to your hotel alone that night. JJ and Will dropped you off at the lobby, claiming they will just take a walk around and he promises to bring her back early tomorrow for your flight.

So now, you’re in the hotel lobby watching people pass by.

“Y/N?” Emily calls you. She’s still wearing her clothes from this morning and from the looks of it, she hasn’t slept yet either. Emily sits next to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Just … thinking.” Emily glances at the way you’re clicking your thumb and middle finger. “I’m okay. I just can’t sleep yet.”

“Does JJ know you’re here?”

“She’s with Will.” You respond impassively.

Ah.

Now, Emily knows why you’re here.

“Do you play scrabble?” Emily asks.

“Yeah.”

“I have one in my room.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It’s the first time today that Emily saw you smile without restraint.

---

“So, where are you staying now?” Spencer asks JJ one afternoon in the bullpen.

“Well, that I’m still trying to figure out.” JJ sighs. “I might stay here for the meantime.”

“Here at the office? How are you going to sleep?”

“You can stay at my place.” You offer out of nowhere causing your friends to look at you. “I mean, if you’d like. I have a spare room.”

JJ’s eyes light up. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll help you pack. Whatever you need.”

It happens frequently now - Emily’s heart sinking to her stomach when she thinks about you with someone other than her. She might need to puke later.

Her jaw tightens as she rewrites a finished report. To hell with this paragraph and typo and this ugly font.

---

The plan is for JJ to stay for three months at your place while her apartment is being renovated. You and the team help her move to your spare room.

You prepare dinner for them and your new roommate. Everyone is taking a look around your place and luckily, you cleaned up yesterday so the house isn’t at all a mess.

Emily joins you and JJ in the kitchen. “Can I help?”

“You can set the table.” You suggest.

“Sure.” Emily washes her hands in the sink. “Where are your plates?”

“The plates are on the drawer beside the fridge, spoon and fork on the next drawer to the left, glasses are next to the water dispenser.” JJ replies.

“You already know your way around here.” Emily states the obvious, trying to mask the pang of jealousy.

“I already slept here a couple of times before.” JJ admits and Emily wants to combust.

“I should have already charged her by the hour for rent.” You joke but Emily doesn’t laugh. She proceeds with setting the table instead.

It takes every ounce of self-control Emily has not to break the plates.

---

You and JJ quickly adapt to living with one another (not together, you cautiously remind yourself). JJ wakes up early and makes coffee. She doesn’t make breakfast though. Caffeine is all she needs in the morning. You, on the other hand, like to cook a little something to start your day.

Since JJ stayed in your apartment, the two of you always arrived at the bureau together. It’s no surprise to the team really. But since you and JJ established that routine, Emily hasn’t smiled much at your arrival to the office like she used to do.

You kind of miss it - being welcomed by a warm smile knowing the day you’re all about to have.

---

“Y/N,” You hear JJ’s voice in the dark. “Y/N.”

Your eyes flutter open and see JJ sitting on the edge of your bed. Even in the dim light, the bags under her eyes are noticeable and her cheeks are flushed.

You sit up. “What’s wrong, JJ?”

“Can I … can I stay with you? Just for tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

Of course, this would be crossing the very thin line of boundaries you have left with her. If she sleeps beside you, she will be near you and if she’s near you, your thoughts will be filled with more of her and that’s … well, that’s just wrong - harboring thoughts about your friend.

But you are yet to learn to say no to Jennifer Jareau.

So you let her crawl to your bed and slip under the covers. You turn your back on her and face the lamp on the bedside table, praying to a God you don’t believe in to let you sleep without JJ running through your mind.

You wake up to an empty space beside you the next morning.

---

The wall comes crashing down when the thin fine line becomes a teeny tiny dot.

It has become a habit now - JJ crawling to your mattress when she’s sad and scared. You don’t get much sleep from that point forward because you feel her snuggling towards you while she’s asleep and the tiny noises she makes rewires your brain. Only for you to wake up early in the morning with a fixed set of pillows and JJ’s scent on the empty side of the bed where she used to lie.

This leads to you having additional caffeine intake every day.

“That’s your fourth cup today. Are you okay?” Emily asks you in the break room.

You massage the back of your neck. “I’m okay, Em. Just haven’t been sleeping very much lately.”

“JJ snores loud?” Emily jokes but the sharp pain in the pit of her stomach says otherwise.

“She doesn't snore.” You say.

And the pain in Emily’s stomach surges into something else entirely. Because how do you know? You have separate rooms. Your rooms are on the opposite sides of your apartment. You don’t sleep next to each other.

Unless …

“You two sleep together?” The crack in Emily’s voice is enough to make you stifle a giggle.

“Not in that way.”

Emily is tempted to ask in what way do you want to sleep with JJ. She’s also tempted to chug a hot freshly brewed cup of coffee to stop herself from further talking about this. She doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t want to know.

“She and Will are fighting a lot lately. She sleeps next to me when she’s sad, which is every night now I guess.”

Emily’s head is spinning and her ears are ringing and maybe her eyes are bleeding? She’s not sure. But it feels a little bit like that.

You watch Emily gulp her scalding hot coffee then spray it to the nearest sink. You rub her back gently, worried she might have burned her tongue.

---

Your apartment feels empty.

JJ flies back and forth to New Orleans during the weekends and weekends are the only days you can stay at your apartment for longer than a night’s sleep.

It’s too quiet now that JJ isn’t around. Your Law and Order marathon is left on its last episode that you two watched. You have no energy to continue it now.

You lie down on the couch and scroll through your phone. The online scrabble app that Emily installed catches your eye and you open it. Emily is online and you invite her to play. It lasted for almost a whole day before Emily calls you up and invites you to dinner at her place.

You accept.

You show up to Emily’s door 30 minutes later, bringing your promised take-out foods. Emily welcomes you into her home. A black cat purrs on your leg.

“Hi, buddy!” You excitedly pet the cat’s head. “Who are you?”

“That’s Sergio. He’s the boss around here.” Emily chuckles.

“Emily Prentiss, how come I didn’t know you’re a cat person?”

She smirks. “I’ll tell Hotch you need to be re-evaluated.”

You roll your eyes. You pick Sergio up and he doesn’t fight. He settles on your shoulder and purrs. “He’s so cute!”

“And expensive to have around.”

“I want a cat.” You blurt out. “I realize I want a cat.”

“You sure? You can’t take him though.” You and Emily share a laugh.

“Not this guy.” You squeeze-hug Sergio and he meows. “He will miss you.”

“Your apartment getting lonely?” Emily senses.

You nod. “JJ hasn’t been around much. I know she’s not going to be around forever, too.” You swallow, glancing to the floor where Sergio just jumped. “She and Will are working things out, I think. She’s flying out to New Orleans every other weekend.”

“JJ must like him a lot then.” Emily watches your lips purse.

“JJ loves him.” You correct her. And in a way, remind yourself of the fact.

Emily’s eyes dart towards your fingers involuntarily clicking. She observes you a lot of times and she knows your little tics by now.

“Let’s eat, Y/N.” Emily ushers you to her living room where the food is already prepared and the TV is already being set up. “What do you want to watch?”

“I want some light comedy if you don’t mind.”

“Modern Family?”

“How do you know?”

Emily recalls the Claire Dunphy Defense Squad button pin on your shoulder bag when you first attend the team gathering at Rossi’s. “Lucky guess.”

It’s halfway through the sitcom’s season when you fall asleep. Emily gazes at your head bobbing up and down as you try to keep yourself awake and failing. She gently cups your cheek and rests your head on her shoulder. Emily thinks you’re waking up when your body moves but you just shift in a more comfortable position which ends up lying your head on her lap and hogging the blanket you’re supposed to share.

Emily lovingly gazes at you, fixing your hair that falls out of place as you sleep.

Emily wishes this moment will stay forever.

You. Her.

Emily never felt more at peace.

---

“I have news.” JJ announces one morning in the kitchen. You are cooking breakfast for yourself and she’s brewing coffee for both of you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Good or bad?”

“I’m not really sure.”

You scrunch your nose. “I’m not a fan of news like that.”

JJ beams. “I’m pregnant!”

And your world stops.

Gravity is pulling you to the ground. Your feet feel heavy.

You almost burn the egg.

“Y/N?”

A tear falls on the pan. Additional salt, I guess.

You turn off the stove and approach JJ with open arms. “I’m so happy for you.” You hug her tightly. “This is good, JJ.”

“It is.” She hugs you back. You don’t let her go for a while until you can control your tears from dropping. “Thank you.”

You blink rapidly, pursed your lips then smile widely. “Congratulations, Jennifer.”

“I have to tell the team.”

“Of course.”

JJ looks so happy and she’s in a glow you have never seen before. You wonder if it’s the pregnancy or the fact that she’s in love.

Regardless, you’re happy she’s happy.

Even if the weird tightening in your chest says otherwise.

---

JJ announces her pregnancy to the BAU 3 days after she told you. Everyone is excited and happy for her. Hugs are happening left and right from the team.

But Emily is looking at you.

And from the corner of your eye, you see her too.

Suddenly, air is not enough. You excuse yourself from the celebration for a minute. You’re suffocating and you need to breathe.

“I knew you’d be here.” Emily’s voice startles you.

You’re sitting in a block on the rooftop. You don’t respond to her and instead, you light a cigarette from your pocket.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

You frown. “Just when I feel like it.”

“You can talk to me, Y/N.”

“She told me 3 days ago, if you’re wondering why I wasn’t surprised.”

“How do you feel?”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

“Because …” Emily pauses. Overwhelming number of scenarios running through her head in a second. “Because you’re my friend.”

You blow smoke into the wind. Emily smells it.

“That’s what I seem to be to everyone. Just a friend.” You say bitterly. “I mean, I’m not really surprised. I’m basically disposable.”

Emily wants to storm to JJ’s office and she doesn’t care what the hell she’s doing in there, she wants to slap JJ hard; put all the pain you’re going through - because of her - in one hard strike. Sure, JJ is still one of her closest friends and she loves her to death but God -

It’s unfair.

Emily loves you.

If you were ever caught in a crossfire, Emily would come running to protect you in a heartbeat, no questions asked and all orders and protocols be damned. She will gladly take all the bullets for you until she loses her own heartbeat.

Emily loves you.

If anyone ever spoke of you wrong, Emily will be there to defend you with all her might. She will flip tables and look them in the eye and tell them how you're the kindest, most genuine, charming person she’s ever met and they’re lucky to even breathe the same air that you breathe.

Emily loves you.

If you were crying and out of breath, she would drop everything and give you the air she breathes if it means you will be okay.

It’s unfair, Emily thought.

Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ.

And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning.

Emily loves you.

And not just as a friend. Because friends don’t treat friends this way.

Emily wants to tell you how she desperately wants to hold your hand especially when it’s cold so she could warm them up, to kiss your lips every time you bite them and every time you don’t, to hold you close when you need to be held, to arrange your hair when it’s turned into a mess.

But the anger and dejection bubbling in her chest take over instead when she hears how you describe yourself.

“How dare you.” Emily speaks in a monotone voice.

“What?” Your head turns to her, confused.

“How dare you call yourself disposable when all I ever wanted was you!” You are both caught off guard by her sudden outburst. All caution is gone now and Emily takes a deep breath in before continuing in a calmer but more desperate tone, “I see you, Y/N. I see you.”

“Em …”

“I see your fingers click when you’re uncomfortable. I see you watch sitcoms on your phone during breaks and once while Hotch was giving the team another talk. I see you care for others. You gave Garcia a unicorn mug just because it reminded you of her. You bring Morgan homemade lasagna when he told us he misses his mother’s cooking. You bought Reid the book he couldn’t find at the bookstore. You drink Rossi’s wine even when you hate it so he wouldn’t feel bad for offering. You fix Hotch’s ties when it’s messed up. For fuck’s sake, you always give me the last piece of pizza every damn time even when you’re still hungry! I see you talk to the victims’ families with so much love, care, and regret that you couldn’t prevent the crimes. I see your nose scrunch when you smell Morgan’s overwhelming perfume in the car. I see you grinding your teeth when you’re in deep thought.” Emily sighs, running out of breath. “The point is: I see you, Y/N.”

“Em …”

“It’s not your fault you don’t see me that way.” Emily walks out and closes the door behind her.

You hear the strain in her voice over and over in your head and it almost makes you want to jump over the ledge.

---

The past few days have been awkward to say the least.

Emily is clearly avoiding you. She gets coffee a little later than she used to just so you won’t meet at the break room. She sits far away from you during the briefings. When you were lying on the couch in the jet, she moved to the other end so you would be out of her sight. She doesn’t look you in the eye when you have to talk about the cases.

And truthfully, it hurts.

---

You walk into the bullpen and slouch in your chair. Spencer greets you and tells you about the book he’s reading and a fun fact about its author. You smile in acknowledgement but don’t say anything else.

Your eyes scan the room to look for the woman who sits on the desk in front of you.

“Emily’s in Boston for a conference.” Morgan says when he notices your eyes wandering the bullpen. “She might be gone for a few days.”

“Okay.” You lean back on your chair and open the reports you've been working on since yesterday.

It’s quiet, you realize, when Emily’s not around.

She’s the only one who frequently talks to you even when you’re both busy. She brings you coffee twice a day - one in the morning and one before going home - and she knows just how you like it with two teaspoons of sugar and three teaspoons of cream, not milk. She sends you online game invitations through your personal email so you can play them on your computers when Hotch isn’t looking. She sends you playlists based on your mood after each case.

You let out a deep sigh you have been holding back.

It’s awfully quiet when Emily is not around.

---

JJ moves out of your apartment. Derek and Spencer help her and Will with moving and driving to their new place. Will has relocated to be with JJ. Even from afar, you can sense that they’re happy about starting their family and being with each other.

You are happy for her. JJ deserves the whole world and Will gave it to her.

When they leave, you don’t waste time sitting around. You change your bedsheets and pillowcases and throw them in the washer. You vacuum the bedroom, then the living room and the room JJ stayed in. You wash all the dishes and rearrange everything in the drawers and cabinets. You throw all the leftover food from the fridge. You deep cleaned your entire home.

And it feels good.

You feel an overwhelming liberty when you finally sink in your bed, hugging your pillow, and it no longer smells like JJ.

---

Emily comes back from Boston a week later. It felt like months for you though.

You spot her sitting on Spencer’s desk beside Derek. She’s giving out souvenirs she got from her trip and they laugh about something Spencer said.

As you come near to your desk, Emily hasn’t glanced at you, not even once.

You settle down on your chair and it’s Derek who spins your chair around to face them.

“Emily’s got something for you.” He passes you a couple of button pins and a dark green mug with BOSTON printed on it.

“Thanks.” You say.

“Tell her, not me.” He stands up and squeezes Spencer’s shoulders. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

“Where?” Although confused, Spencer still follows him.

That leaves you and Emily just a desk away from each other.

“How’s Boston?” You finally ask. You couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Uh, the conference?”

“Boston was humid. The conference was boring.” Emily answers. You see her pick her nails and your hand hovers her hand. She instantly stops. “You’ve been busy?”

You shake your head. “It’s honestly refreshing to not have a case for a while. It’s better than finding dead bodies for breakfast.”

“It is.” Emily agrees.

Then, it gets quiet again. Emily is refusing to look you in the eye while you are hopelessly trying to get her to.

You can’t do this anymore.

You can’t stand having Emily so close and tiptoeing around the thing you need to talk to her about.

“I bought scrabble.” You blurt out. You don’t know why you said that.

Emily raises an eyebrow. “You bought scrabble?”

“Y - yeah. I did.”

“Okay …”

“Do you want to play?” Emily stares at you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just … I’m inviting you. If you’re not busy and have nothing to do, that is. I - I -”

“Y/N, breathe.” Emily chuckles. “Are you inviting me over?”

You exhale loudly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” You puff out your chest to gain some resolve. “Do you want to come over tonight? Uh, 8pm?”

You finally meet her eye to eye. Dark brown orbs meeting yours. You’re instantly weak at how soft and gentle she’s looking at you.

“I’d love that.” Emily replies.

---

You leave work earlier than you’re supposed to. You tell Hotch about needing it for personal time. He didn’t pry and let you go, only reminding you that you need to be early tomorrow.

“You going home?” Derek asks when he bumps into you at the elevator.

“Yes, I might have a date.”

“Might?”

“I’m really not sure what it is. I’ll find out. Gotta go!” You press the elevator button to the basement, walking back and forth inside the elevator.

You haven’t thought this all the way through. What the hell were you thinking asking Emily Prentiss over to your apartment? Your fridge is literally empty aside from your stash of electrolyte drinks.

Then, it clicks. You can think when you shop for food. You need to buy groceries.

---

You end up buying a lot more than you can carry.

When you got everything sorted out, you open your ipad to search for recipes. You’re not entirely sure what Emily would enjoy and frankly, you’re just winging it, hoping that whatever you might end up cooking would be good enough for her.

You lay out the scrabble board on the center table in the living room. You also prepared nachos and homemade salsa dip and laid it next to the board game.

When the doorbell rings, you make a startled jump. You peek at the peephole and see Emily standing outside, hands in the pockets of her coat.

“Hi,” you say as soon as you open the door. “Come in.”

“You have -” Emily brushes her thumb against your cheek to wipe the sauce off your face. She licks her thumb. “Salsa dip?”

“Guilty. Let me get changed. I just finished cooking.”

“Okay.” Emily’s eyes follow you to your room. She laughs lightly when she hears you curse because your foot caught a shoe and stumbled.

---

You and Emily sit across from each other at the dining table.

“This looks delicious, Y/N.”

“Let’s only hope it tastes as delicious as it looks.”

Emily hums in approval upon tasting the shrimp pasta you made. “Are you sure you’re not a chef?” She teases.

“You have homemaderecipes.com to thank for that.” You giggle.

The dinner went better than you could imagine. Emily complimented the dishes you made, hinting that you’re trying to make her gain weight with how many dishes you made just for tonight. In your defense, you like being prepared and having options in case she has food allergies.

Emily insists on helping you with the dishes and putting the leftovers on tupperwares. You tell her she’s a guest and she didn’t have to. But you know better than to argue with her.

“Did you rearrange your kitchen?” Emily asks after opening every drawer and cabinet trying to figure out where everything goes.

“I did. When JJ moved out.”

Emily doesn’t say anything. She places the last fork on the drawer.

“I cleaned up everything after she left.” You continue. You’re waiting for Emily’s response but it doesn’t come. “I changed the sheets and vacuumed.”

Emily is leaning against the countertop, holding the glass of soda she has yet to drink.

“There’s no trace of her left here.” You say confidently.

“Y/N,” Emily murmurs. “I don’t want to be your rebound.”

Your head snaps fast and you stare at her with terrified eyes. “No, Emily, no.” You move closer to her, just enough to not invade her personal space. “It’s not what I want.”

“Good because neither do I.”

“When JJ left, I cleaned the entire house. I rearranged everything, I’m not even sure where everything goes exactly right now.” Emily listens to you intently. “And I didn’t feel sad when there were no traces of her left behind.”

Emily looks at you with a much softer, more hopeful expression on her face. She hopes that you won’t crush the tiny little hope that she’s holding on to.

“I just felt … free.” You continue. “And when I saw them walking to their car, Will had his hand on her belly and I felt genuinely happy for them.” You start to pace back and forth at the kitchen aisle. “But then, this past week without you, I realized that it’s quiet.”

“Quiet?”

“It was too quiet that I could hear myself and Spencer next to me thinking. And you know how he thinks a lot.” You continue your pace, hands flailing uncontrollably at times. “Then I kept seeing the empty space in your desk.”

“Y/N, you make it sound like I left you.” Emily lets out a scoff.

“I mean, I can’t blame you if you did but the thing is: I see it now.”

“See what?”

“You.”

You stop.

Emily stares.

There’s a long pause and though it may be silent, it isn’t awkward at all. Something shifted in the air, you could feel it.

You speak again, “I see your smile light up the room when I come in to work. You didn’t do it as much when I started arriving with JJ. I didn’t tell you how much I missed it. You have always been so welcoming of me, making sure I’m comfortable. You always ask for my insights when I wasn’t confident to share them with the rest of the team. You always make sure I have water and candies in the backseat when we’re investigating. You saved me that one time a police officer tried to hit on me. You leave aspirin on my table when you see me rubbing my head when I get migraines. You know the little things that mean so much to me.” You sigh, shoulders falling. “I see it now, Emily.”

Emily wipes the tear that fell to her cheek.

You take Emily’s hands and grip them, making sure she feels the intensity of sincerity radiating in your body. “And, I think, by now, it’s a reflex that I’d go looking for you in a room full of people.” You tell her. “I’m sorry it had to take not seeing you to actually see you.”

Emily pulls you into a hug. She wraps her arms around your neck and you hear her sobs. You tighten your arm around her waist, giving everything you had to that hug.

Because this, right here, is an entire universe you’re holding.

You stay like that for what felt like an eternity.

Emily is the first one to pull away. She places a hand on your cheek, caressing your face. “We’re going to do this right.”

“We’ll take it slow.” You agree. “We’ll go on dates.”

She nods. “That we will do, Y/N.”

---

It took a month for you and Emily to memorize where things are in your kitchen. Not only that but she has made herself comfortable knowing where everything is in your apartment.

You learn about hers as well.

She has invited you to her place more than a few times over. Her air freshener smells like lavender. Her lamp lights are always cool and never warm, she says it hurts her eyes. Her bathroom reeks of luxurious bath bombs especially during the weekend. She likes having dark curtains in her bedroom and light ones in the living room.

Emily adores Sergio. She has a whole list of reminders about him - his feeding time, vaccination dates, neuter date, etc. - stuck on the refrigerator door.

Emily also doesn’t have framed pictures of anyone at her place but as of two days ago, she has one on her bedside table - a photograph of you and her sharing ice cream from one of your dates.

---

It takes another month when you tackle Emily, your hands protecting her head before you both fall to the ground. The UnSub was taking a shot at her but you got her just in time. You watch Derek and Hotch go after the UnSub, leaving you and Emily on the muddy ground.

“Em, are you okay?” You muffle under your breath.

“I’m good, I’m good.” Emily sits up and checks on you. Her face instantly turns pale when she sees blood flowing on your left arm. “Y/N, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not that deep.” Emily takes off her FBI vest then her coat. She uses it to put pressure into your wound to stop the bleeding. Curses of different languages leave your lips.

Emily calls an ambulance. She doesn't leave your side on the whole way to the hospital. She waits as the doctor and nurses finish patching you up.

“How’s Y/N?” Hotch asks Emily when he arrives at the hospital with the rest of the team.

“I’m still waiting for an update. She’s still in the ER. Probably getting some stitches.” Emily says, biting a nail.

Spencer puts a hand on Emily’s shoulder to calm her down.

---

The doctor says recovery will take at least two weeks. You wear an arm sling and are stuck at a desk job for the meantime. You don’t hate it. And even if you weren’t a tech genius like Penelope, she is fun and entertaining to be around during case consultations.

But every time the team leaves, your heart sinks knowing Emily might fall into another danger. You worry about all of them, of course, but Emily …

It’s five months later that you’re in the unit chief’s office talking about your budding relationship with a coworker.

Emily has your heart and you will wreak havoc if something happens to her. You wish the universe won’t test you.

---

Emily is sitting on the opposite chair. Hotch is behind his desk.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Hotch tells the both of you. “I’ll have HR send me the files that you need to sign. It won’t be complicated.”

“Are you sure none of us needs to be transferred?” You ask him again, scared that the answer might change.

“I’ll make sure of it. You’re both an asset to this unit and it would be a damn shame if we lose either one of you.”

You and Emily can finally breathe.

“Thank you, sir.” Emily says.

“Thank you. I promise this won’t affect anything, especially work.” You tell your boss.

Hotch nods. “It hasn’t, so far, and we’ve known for months.”

You choke on air upon seeing Hotch’s smug smile.

“You’d literally take a bullet for her, Y/N.”

“Which I told her was stupid and reckless.” Emily adds.

Maybe you and Emily aren’t so subtle after all.

---

It’s a year later when you and Emily are throwing a housewarming party. The team arrives one by one. Spencer brings you an espresso machine. Derek hands Emily a toolkit in all pink; he gets a jab on the shoulder from Emily. You happily accept Penelope’s cheese board set. Hotch sets up the money tree he bought by the door. Rossi brings white and red wine for dinner. Will, JJ and little Henry arrive last. Will is carrying their son on his arm while JJ brings out their gifts.

“I come bearing gifts,” JJ announces.

She bought a lot of healthy and unhealthy snacks for you and Emily but the personalized cushion for Sergio with I Love My Moms embroidered in it is your favorite. You excitedly show it to your cat and he immediately lies on it.

“It’s Sergio approved!” You squeal.

JJ takes a picture of Sergio enjoying her gift.

“Hi, little buddy!” Emily takes Henry to her arms, cooing the little boy. “God, you’re heavy.”

“You’re a big boy now, aren’t you, Henry?” You slightly pinch his cheeks. “What are you feeding this kid? He grows up so fast.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me I will cry.” JJ chuckles.

Everyone gathers on the table. You and Emily have one rule during the dinner though: No Work Talk.

Rossi compliments your pasta and you thank him. Emily opens the red wine that Rossi brought tonight.

The rest of the night goes better than expected. You have no idea why you and Emily were ever nervous about hosting.

When everybody left and everything was cleaned up, you and Emily found yourselves cuddling in your bed.

Yours and Emily’s bed.

“I love you,” you whisper against her chest. Your fingers are fidgeting on the button of her pajama shirt.

Emily’s eyes widened. Everything stops and her heart feels like it’s going a hundred miles per hour.

“I know this is the first time I said it,” you say, hearing how fast her heartbeat is going against your ear. “But I have felt it for a long time now.”

Emily pulls you closer to her, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Whatever the future holds, you’ll be fine as long as she’s in it. Everything finally feels good and right in the world.

Because Emily Prentiss loves you.

And you love her.

#jaye writes #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss angst #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau x y/n

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jxmis · 1 year

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Second Choice

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're tired of always being the second choice... even in your own relationship you were the backup.

Warning(s): Angst with no happy ending

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Inspired by the Little Women scene of Laurie and Amy but with my own twist <3

(gif not mine! credit to the owner!)

You knew what everyone thought of you. Oh poor Y/N, always the second choice. Her being the second choice in her family, her brother always being the first and favorite. Always being the second best in her class in the Academy. And even her boyfriend’s second choice. How pathetic of you. You know that.

Of course, he’d rather be with the beautiful blue eyed dirty blonde haired woman. She’s not only beautiful, she’s smart, amazing at her job, a great friend, and everyone loves her. You on the other hand, you’re just… you. You will never compare to Jennifer Jareau.

It shocks you how Spencer Reid even noticed you at all. Sure, you work with him, but you never would’ve guessed that he'd ever want a romantic relationship with you. You’re not blind or naive, everyone practically knows how Reid is in-love with JJ. You witnessed it from the very beginning when JJ had joined the team as the media liaison. But they never really happened, to your surprise.

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to go on a date with Spencer. That one date turned into two… three and eventually, he had asked you to be his girlfriend. You thought that maybe… just maybe he could love you the way he loves JJ. That he’d look at you the way he looks at her. You thought that you could help him move on. However, that wasn’t the case.

It’s been almost a year since you two have been together. It never even feels like you really had all of him. That's because… you never did. Unlike JJ, who always had all of him, she has his full respect, trust, and most of all… love.

You can’t help but see looks of sympathy from others. Even they notice the way Spencer would sneak glances at JJ, how he looks at her, hugs her, how his smile would grow brighter and bigger because of her. You’re tired. Tired of competing for Spencer’s love. You should've known this was a battle you’d lose. Of course, you have no resentment towards JJ. She’s with Will, you know how much she loves her husband and Henry. You know her love for Spencer will always be platonic. The only one to blame is yourself. Though, you can’t help this burning anger towards Spencer. For- For leading you on, making you let him in when he couldn’t even do the same. Mainly, for making you fall for him.

You’re sick of being the second choice. Today will be the last day and you vow to yourself that you’ll never let anyone make you feel that way again. You deserve better. This ends today.

———

You had told Spencer earlier how you wanted to talk after this case. Well, the case was over, it was a tough case and as much as you’d like to be comforted by Spencer’s arms you know alcohol will be what will comfort you tonight instead. However, you all had landed almost 20 minutes ago and most are preparing to leave. Instead of Reid doing the same thing, he’s rather smiling and laughing with JJ.

“Spencer, let’s go,” you called out. To no one’s surprise, you were ignored. You see JJ motioning for Spencer to go but resulting in the opposite.

“Give me a sec! I’ll meet you at the car!” Spencer responds back. The urge you had to yell, but instead, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down. You put on a fake smile and indeed go down to the parking garages. Tears started to run down your face as you head to the car. Instead of waiting for Spencer, you drove off.

Right as you had arrived in your shared apartment with Spencer which was originally his until he had suggested you move in with him. You had honestly thought this act of his meant he’s finally moving on, but it was another misleading act of his.

You began to pack all your stuff as fast as you could wanting to leave this place as soon as possible. When you open the door to leave, you’re surprised to see the person about to knock.

“Derek? W- What are you doing here?” You ask very confuse.

He raises his eyebrows, “You goin somewhere?” You look down, your eyes becoming filled with tears dying to fall.

“You got a place to stay tonight?” Your head snaps at his question. Your mouth opens and closes but couldn’t get a word out. “C’mon, you can stay with me till you find a place.”

———

You and Morgan arrive at the BAU the next morning together. You both were bickering about the movie you two had watched last night. Watching a movie and drowning both yourselves with ice cream was a way Morgan hoped to make you feel better. It honestly did help along with him listening to you. There was not a single moment did you see or even feel judgment coming from him. He’s a great friend. You’ll miss him. No, you’re going to miss everyone.

Unfortunately, your bickering and thoughts were interrupted by the one person you wanted to avoid. “Y/N!” Spencer calls out as he speeds to you. “W- What happened last night?! You- you left me! A- And all your stuff… they’re gone!” Spencer’s reaction genuinely shocked you. It actually seems like he cares.

You snap out of it and scoff, “I’m surprised you even noticed.” You walk past him and head to your desk. Now, all eyes are on you both, but they don’t forget to eye Morgan. All he does is put both his hands up, not giving them anything.

“What’s going on with you, Y/N!” That was the tipping point for you. You turn to the brunette and drag him to Hotch’s office, closing the doors. You were so angry, you didn’t even think to close the blinds.

The rest of the team couldn’t help but watch you both obviously having an argument. They’ve never seen you so angry… so full of rage. They’d be lying if they didn’t think it was bound to happen at some point, they’re profilers for god sakes! JJ is standing there and can’t help but feel guilty as she watches the scene. Morgan sensing this, he puts his hand on her shoulder and whispers, “Don’t go blaming yourself now, JJ. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m tired, Spencer! I’m tired of us, I can’t do this anymore. We- we’re… We’re done.” Spencer stands there in shock whilst you head to the door so close to heading out.

“That’s it? You’re just going to give up on us?” You couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from you.

“Give up on us? Are you serious right now, Spencer?” You turn facing the clueless brunette. “I had done nothing but hold on for dear life!”

“Well, you breaking up with me with no explanation really shows you holding on to us, huh?” At this point, you didn’t have it in you to yell and fight anymore. He wants a reason, you’ll give him one.

“I’ve always been the second choice in everything in my life. My family, past relationships, even the academy! You knew that… I told you.. Trusted you with that information. God, you even promised that you wouldn’t make me feel like that.” You sigh, “The problem is that you did, Spencer… you did.”

The tone of your voice… so broken… so fragile breaks Spencer’s heart. The door being open, the team could now hear the conversation and it kills them to see you in such a state. “Y/N…” but before Spencer could say anything, you raise your hand up not wanting him to interrupt.

“I will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her. I won’t. I won’t do it.” Tears now escape your eyes much to your dismay. You didn’t want Spencer or the others seeing you cry. You start to back away, “I won’t- not when I’ve spent my entire life loving you.” With that, you leave Hotch’s office, sadly, only to be met by looks of pity from the rest of the team.

You wipe your tears. You head to your desk grabbing your belongings and walk past all of them, not once daring to look them in the eye knowing what their facial reactions already look like. Even though you hear your name being called out by some of them, you continue your way not once ever looking back.

You thought you could stay at least the rest of the week to say your proper goodbyes to the team. You’ve been with most of them since the beginning. They were basically your family, it was only fair to have a proper farewell. But now, it’s too late for that, you can’t bring yourself to step foot in there anymore. Maybe someday, but for now, you’re okay with how things were left. You’re left with only sending them a letter as your goodbye. Your only hope is that they’d understand. You grabbed your stuff at Morgan’s and got everything in your car. You email Hotch your transfer request. You don’t know what’s next for you, but you couldn’t wait. This time, it’ll be different, it’ll be better.

#spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #derek morgan #jennifer jareau

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 17 days

Text

kisses over handshakes | s.r. x fem!reader

“who’s the new guy?”

jj turned to you before looking in the direction your eyes were focused on. standing outside hotch’s office was derek accompanied by a mystery guy, well he looked more like a boy. tall and lanky with a short haircut that was starting to grow past his ears and curl to his skin. he was wearing a short sleeved button up that looked a size or two bigger on him, practically swallowing him in the fabric, and he paired dark brown stacks for his office attire.

“that’s spencer reid. gideon helped bring him into the unit when he brought him in as an apprentice, also he’s a genius. graduated high school at twelve, has three phds, a 187 iq and can read fast and remember well. own our human internet.” jj listed off his qualifications for the job at- “how old is he?” “only twenty three.” boy genius indeed.

you followed behind jj as she walked towards the two, “hello boys. spencer i wanted to introduce you to y/n, she’s my assistant.” skirting you closer into his directions, teeth biting into your bottom lip from slight nerves.

“hi it’s a pleasure to meet you,” sticking out a waiting hand. spencer looked to your hand then directly into your eyes as he said, “the number of pathogens passed between a handshake is staggering it’s actually safer to kiss.” and you could tell he was completely serious.

so you shrugged, “okay,” and leaned in to peck his cheek. you saw how derek smiled widely as he shook his head, “told you someone would be bold enough to do it.” reaching out to flick at your shoulder, you swatted his hand away with a frown.

eyes back to spencer, his cheeks turned flushed and his mouth was opening and closing, eyes slightly bugged. “sorry, that was unprofessional of me.” apologizing for overstepping, not wanting him to hate you already.

“no- no it’s alright. just the first to do so, caught off guard.” he smiled nervously, lips quirked. “i- i wouldn’t mind if you- if you kept doing so.” rolling his lips once the sentence settled over the four of you, you smiled back at him.

“looks like you got an admirer, pretty girl.” derek pipped in snapping you from your staring contest with spencer’s profile. you just rolled your eyes to the older man, “guess i know how you feel now, playboy.”

jj pulled you along, “alright, well we have some cases to look over and i’m sure you two have paperwork to fill out, so we’ll see you later.”

“bye pretty ladies,” derek bid you goodbye. you waved at spencer over your shoulder and he held his hand up in reply. you chuckled quietly at his awkward nature.

“by the end of the year, i’m gonna date him.” sounding confident in your statement. you turned to jj and she furrowed her clean brows, “why not sooner?”

“cause i want him to ask me and i know it’s gonna be awhile, but im in it for the long game with boy genius. he’s a special one.”

#erin writes #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x liaison!reader #early seasons spencer reid #season 1 spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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lowaltitude · 1 year

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Oblivious | Spencer Reid

- Criminal Minds - x Reader, Rossi’s daughter. (Y/N Baker-Rossi)

❪ FEM! ❫ ❪ adult aroace virgin attempts to write smut Altitude

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Spencer Reid x AFAB+FEM!reader, in which SSA Dr Spencer Reid is dating his coworker. OR in which SSA David Rossi’s daughter is has been sneaking around with the smartest man in the FBI for months.

𖥻 established relationships. Not directly connected to Criminal Minds series timeline but an estimated place in the timeline around season 5. 8.2k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

───── ❝ backstory ❞ ─────

Carolyn Baker-Rossi, first wife of SSA David Rossi. After the loss of their son James, the couple began to drift apart and eventually filed for divorce after a case made him miss their anniversary in 1983 and he came home in time to see Carolyn packing his things. A few months later, and with no complications, a daughter was born. Y/N Baker-Rossi.

Y/N was always a gifted student, deciding when she was 7 that she wanted to “catch the boogie monsters that daddy does” and following through. Eventually, a few book releases and divorces later, Rossi’s 22 year old daughter completed her degree, resulting Rossi using his connections to get her allowed into the BAU as a liaison.

Y/N was spending 85% of her time at the BAU following around Penelope Garcia, 10% getting everyone coffee, and the other 5% staring at Dr Spencer Reid. The boy genius who joined the BAU 2 years prior as a Supervisory Special Agent.

2 years passed and Y/N— Agent Baker, affectionately nicknamed ‘Cupcake’ by Derek Morgan— was promoted, officially joining the team. And although she loved him, she refused to use her father’s last name while at work.

───── ❝ Oblivious ❞ ─────

Rossi‘s chair scraped along the floor as he pulled it out, and I groaned. Morgan called and woke me up at 6am, how much more murdering could happen if we waited just 1 more hour?

I wasn’t angry, but It was my first official case. I was no longer a liaison I was an SSA. My seat at the table meant something, but I didn’t expect them to drag me into work while it was still dark outside.

“Wheels up in 30” Hotch said, ending the briefing and giving us time to get what we needed from our desks.

Spencer was sat across from me like always, his hair messy and shirt collar a little messed up, and he pushed his chair out from the table before getting up.

I walked behind him as he went to his desk, and I went to mine. “Rough night?” I yawned.

“No, no. I’m fine.” Reid put his bag over his shoulder, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand.

I hummed in response and walked up to him, noticing that he tensed up as I got close to him. I put my hands on his collar, fixing it and his tie as he just watched me with his lips slightly parted.

“Uh, New collared shirts often come with stiff collars; however, after a number of washes and wears, the material that keep the collar stiff begins to soften, causing the shirt collar to lose its shape.” I nodded, enjoying the seemingly pointless information that he would often share. Everyone had left, the space around us now empty. “This leads to shirt collars curling and folding.”

When I was done, I went to step back and gave him some space, but Reid put a hand on my waist stopping me.

“Are you aware of how hard it is to avoid touching you while we’re at work?”

“You’re touching me now”

“But i’m stopping myself from… More”

“Nobody’s around” I kept my voice no more than a whisper, putting my hand on Reid’s chest and pushing myself up to reach him.

“Ready to go, Cupcake?” Morgan entered, back over his shoulder and eyes down as he looked at his phone. Reid and I jumped away from each other before Morgan had the chance to look up and tuck his phone in his back pocket. “Kid?”

Both of us nodded and he turned towards the doors, Reid following a few steps behind him. I slung my bag over my shoulder, jogging to catch up.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“How was your first case?” Garcia asked, rushing towards me with an open container of cookies in her hands as we entered the BAU. Returning from the long trip to Florida.

“I might be a little traumatised but that’s part of the job” I looked in the plastic container, happily taking one and almost melting at how good the warm cookie was.

Morgan patted my shoulder as he stopped beside me, swiftly taking a cookie and earning a shocked gasp from Garcia.

“Those are not for you”

“Thanks, baby girl” He smiled. “You look like you need a drink after that.”

“I do, I really do” I sighed wiping the cookie crumbs on my pants. “Garcia?”

She nodded enthusiastically, putting the lid on the container. “Yes.”

“Drinks?” Morgan asked the other members of the team, clapping his hands together. He earned a few responses as the team packed the extra things from their desks.

The team conversed as they left the building, leaving Garcia, my dad and I a little behind.

“You did real good, kid. Make sure you call your mum later”

“Got it.” I nodded, watching him hurry to catch up with Hotch.

“So…” Garcia started.

I shook my head at her. “Don’t” Garcia and I had spent so much time together over the past few years that she was practically my sister at this point.

She claimed knew about my crush on Reid before I did, noting that ‘22 year old Y/N came in to see her dad and immediately took notice of the 24 year old who’d just joined the team.’ But i’d managed to keep it from her that we had progressed our relationship.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

With my FBI visitor pass— Which honestly seemed like a bad idea in retrospect, I walked into the bullpen and was barely noticed. Agents passing by without so much as a quick glance in my direction.

I spotted my Dad in a glass office, along with Hotch, and who I know knew was Garcia. He waved my direction, Hotch doing his best to smile at me before going back to their conversation.

Walking further into the room, I narrowly dodged someone with their head down looking at an open file as the walked and bumped into someone’s desk.

“Oh shit, i’m sorry” I muttered, the boy at his desk seemed barely older than I was.

“No, it’s perfectly fine. Young adults fall more frequently than expected, most falls even occur during everyday activities such walking and talking.” The boy looked up from the open book and papers scattered on his desk and It felt like I got slapped in the face by emotions that made no sense.

I couldn’t think of anything to say, I just forced my mouth closed so I could stop gawking at him. “Totally”

“Uh…” He stared at me for a second before quickly blinking a few times. “Each— Each year slips, trips and falls cause thousands of preventable injuries. In most cases, people trip on low obstacles that are hard to spot.”

I laughed, not really understanding what the boy was rambling about. Just nodding and smiling like a fool.

“Y/N” Hotch called my name, I turned to face the 2 men and the blonde. “Hey, I see you’ve met our newest SSA.”

“You’re an agent? I wouldn’t have guessed” I gave the boy another once over.

“Boy genius.” Rossi sighed “IQ of 180, photographic memory—”

“187, actually, and I have an eidetic memory. Eidetic memory refers to the ability to retain visual information with extreme precision while in contrast, photographic memory refers to the ability to remember everything in a scene, not just the visual elements.” The boy pushed his chair back from his desk, playing with the pen in his hand.

Woah.

Hotch cleared his throat. “Y/N Baker-Rossi, this is our technical analyst Penelope Garcia , and doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Baker-Rossi? As in, you, Rossi?” Garcia’s eyes widened, looking between us quickly.

“Yes.” I laughed. “From his first marriage.”

“Wow, I didn’t even know you had spawn. It’s great to meet you”

Rossi put his hand on my shoulder, taking my bag from my hands. “She’s actually here to see you, Garcia.”

“Me?”

“Y/N just completed her advanced degree in behavioral science, and while her application is pending I got permission for her to be a temporary liaison, somewhat of an assistant for you”

“Oh, assistant wow. Yes, yes. Come my child, I will be your seeing eye dog for the BAU.” Penelope linked my arm, taking the bag from my fathers hands and wishing me away. Hotch and Rossi already making their way back to the office.

I was flabbergasted to say the least, looking around as Garcia began to explain her position here. I looked back at the boy sitting at his desk and smiled. “Uh, bye Spencer”

“Yeah— Yeah, bye Y/N.” He spun his chair, watching Garcia and I as we disappeared down the hall.

When he was gone from sight, I took a deep breath. Spencer Reid.

When he spoke there was something eerily calming and familiar about him. Something in the pit of my stomach told me that this guy was special. Special in different way than being a young genius working for the FBI.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we entered the bar and found somewhere to sit, JJ and I sat beside each other so she could show me pictures of her son, Henry, on her phone. Spencer at the other end of the table across from Garcia.

I finished my drink and sighed, moving away from the table taking my glass with me to the bar. Rossi passing me his empty glass with a smile as he engaged in conversation with Morgan.

“Hey” I tiredly smiled at the bartender “Can I just get another Vodka and Coke, and 3 fingers of Whiskey please.”

The bartender got to work on the drinks and I found ed my attention on my shoes.

“Y/N?” I looked up at the person calling my name. “Oh my god, it is you.” I stared at the man in utter confusion as he walked up to me, leaving his friends chatting at their table behind him. “George. We went to High School together.”

“Whoa, George Maddison?” It finally clicked, he chuckled, nodding that it was in fact him. He was a handsome sight but in my memory I can still see him wearing his Harry Potter-esque glasses in his brown coat and black beanie.

“You look amazing. And I heard you work for the FBI now, isn’t that what your dad did?”

“Thank you, I really don’t feel amazing right now so it’s much appreciated.” I laughed, thanking the bartender as he put the drinks on the counter for me. “My dad actually still works for the BAU, he’s right over there. The team is just celebrating my first case.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Spence” Garcia whispered, the boy practically grunting in response. “You’re going to burn a hole in the back of her head if you don’t stop staring.”

“I’m not staring” Reid snapped his attention to Garcia, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention from the other agents. He was staring, and he knew it. But of course he was there was someone else talking to Y/N, and he knew that when men go to a bar, they are typically looking for a good time, to catch a buzz, to let off steam, and maybe find someone to take home for a one night stand.

Garcia hummed, finishing the rest of her cocktail and pushing the glass towards Reid. “Here. Get me another, there’s your excuse to go interrupt.”

“Why would I interrupt, I’m sure Y/N is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She’s a highly trained federal agent and although studies suggest drink spiking may be more widespread than previously believed, on average—”

Garcia wasn’t listening, instead looking across the crowded bar at the tall blonde making Y/N smile. “He’s like Derek Morgan levels of hotness.” She muttered, Reid immediately shutting his mouth.

After a moment of silent contemplation, the 26 year old took Garcia’s empty glass and walked to the bar. Swallowing the lump in his throat and leaving Garcia smiling to herself as she thought about adding ‘Matchmaker’ to her resume.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Another one of… Whatever this is” I heard Spencer’s voice behind me and turned my head to look at him.

“Hey” I smiled, my heart almost skipping a beat at the sight of my coworker.

Reid licked his lips quickly before smiling back at me. “Hey, sorry to interrupt.”

“Not a problem”

“Hi” George stuck his hand out for the lanky brunette to shake. “I’m George”

Spencer ignored his offer and instead chose to just nod at him in acknowledgment. “SSA, Dr Spencer Reid. Do— Do you two know each other?”

“Yeah, High School. We even dated for a while.”

“I wouldn’t really call going to the mall and a few kisses during spin the bottle ‘dating’.” I awkwardly laughed, swirling the straw around in my drink.

“Dating is a term coined in America to signify that stage of romantic relationships in which two individuals engage in an activity together, most often with the intention of evaluating each other's suitability as a partner in a future intimate relationship. Most couples go on 5 to 6 dates before discussing a relationship, and some take even longer.”

George momentarily seemed frozen, letting Reid’s words sink in. “See! We were dating, and I guess technically we never broke up. Thanks dude.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, dude”

I laughed at how unnatural it seemed for Spencer to say ‘dude’. My smile even beginning to hurt my cheeks. He turned to the bartender, taking the drink they had just put down and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What the hell are you drinking?”

“This is Garcia’s actually, she wanted me to come get it for her.”

“Oh” He didn’t want to come be my knight in shining armour, rescuing me from the mystery man that could swoop me away from him.

“What is taking the two of you so long?” Rossi asked, reaching past me to grab his drink from the bar. “You’re young, aren’t you meant to be fast? Don’t answer that Reid it wasn’t a real question”

Spencer shut his mouth quickly. Rossi sipping his drink and noticing George standing with a smile on his face.

“Mr Rossi” He put his hand out to shake again. “How are you?”

“Have we met?”

“No” I answered, I didn’t want to hear another remark about us ‘technically’ never having broken up. “We did a play together in High School but, you were on a case.”

“I’m sure you want to get back to celebrating, but i’d really like to see you again Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow at the blonde “You would?”

“Really?” Rossi and Reid said almost simultaneously.

“Definitely. Can I have your number?”

“Uh” I thought for a minute, I didn’t want to give some guy at a bar my number and lead him on in front of my boyfriend. But on the other hand my dad was standing right there. “This job doesn’t give me a lot of time to myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll work something out” Rossi smiled, gesturing for me to put my number into his contacts. Reid’s eyes widened and for self preservation he turned and went back to the table.

“Okay.” I forced a smile, keying in my number and passing the phone back him.

George left, my dad and I waving as I went back to the table and I took my seat beside JJ again. Sipping my drink and raising an eyebrow at the stares I was receiving. “What?”

“Who was that?” Emily asked, a slightly suggestive look on her face.

“Just someone from high school.”

Rossi hummed, looking over to where George was laughing with his friends

“He’s cute” JJ commented

“Yeah.” Reid said, catching my attention. “Dude seems great”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We were lucky to have 2 days off before being sent on our next case, Reid and I sitting beside one another on the plane and enjoying what little intimacy we could have on the trip; Our arms touching on the arm rest.

The jet ride consisted of Rossi making popcorn, me and Morgan trying to sleep, Garcia calling us with more information and everyone doing their own thing.

As we left the airport terminal, Reid walked a few steps ahead of me, and I watched as the wind blew his hair into his face. The boy stopping and looking at me when my phone started to ring.

“Hello…?” I said cautiously

“Hey! Y/N, it’s George”

“Oh, hi. I didn’t actually expect you to call this soon, isn’t there some men’s unspoken rule to wait 3 days?”

“I’m just really excited to talk to you I guess.”

“I actually can’t talk, we just landed in North Carolina for a case.”

“Already? Wow, serial killers work fast.” He laughed on the other end of the line. “I’ll call you back some other time then”

My phone beeped and I took a second to look at it before putting the cell back to my ear “That would be great. I have to go, work call.” I hung up, not hearing whatever he tried to say before I cut him off and answering the other call. “Garcia?”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Hotch had split us up for the case, him, Prentiss and Rossi at the latest crime scene. JJ and Morgan at the house interviewing the family. Leaving Reid and I at the police precinct trying to find the MO, and looking for potential UnSubs.

Reid and I were professional, apart from lingering when our hands touched and the occasional longing stare. But we made it through the case without a hitch, and as soon as Morgan called to tell us they’d caught the guy we began to pack our things.

“I think it was pretty, uh, pretty hot how you worked out that the UnSub was taunting the victims.”

I scoffed, putting the photos from the whiteboard into a manila folder. “Replicating murders from famous movies isn’t that difficult to realise”

“There’s a number of generally agreed elements comprising popular culture. These aspects are often subject to rapid change, due to omnipresent media. It encompasses the most immediate and contemporary aspects of our lives.” He paused for a second to breathe and I leaned against the table to look at him. “Considering my circumvention for most aspects of modern technology or media, I show a fair amount animosity against popular culture, the likelihood that I would have figured that MO is only about 3%”

“I’m taking this as I need to educate you on horror movies”

“I’m well educated on classic horror films. In fact, I think my favourite would be Anita. The 1920 Austrian film that depicts a societal lady trapped under the spell of an unskilled hypnotist.”

“Have you ever watched anything that wasn’t a foreign black and white silent film?”

The door to the precinct briefing room opened before Reid could respond. The team walking in, exhausted from working without a moments peace.

Hotch put his phone down on the table. “Unfortunately theres thunderstorms coming in and we won’t be able to get a flight out until some time tomorrow. Garcia’s booked us into a hotel in the meantime, we can all hopefully get a good nights rest”

“I doubt that.” Emily said, a disgusted look on her face as she pushed the picture from one of the crime scenes across the table away from her. “This one was some real nightmare fuel.”

The photo made my stomach turn as well, a recreation of a scene from 1976 film The Omen. The victims face sewn into a Joker-esque smile and hung from the room of her house.

I quickly put the photo in the envelope and closed it so i’d never have to see it again.

“That gives you some time to call George.” Rossi smiled, helping pack up what was left scattered across the table.

“Dad” I groaned, earning a puzzled look from the officers nearby. Morgan and JJ chuckled at my annoyance I shot them both a glare.

“Reid, tell her she should be putting herself out there. I want grandkids eventually”

Spencer choked on air, his eyes wide as he tried to stop coughing and everyone looked at him in concern.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked, Reid nodding and putting his hand up to stop anyone from helping him.

“Um” He finally caught his breath. “Single men are far more likely than single women to be looking for a relationship or dates – around 61% compared to 38%. While looking both men and women report equal levels of dissatisfaction with their dating lives and the ease of finding people to date, women are more likely to say they have had some particularly negative experiences.“

Rossi stared at him for a moment, dissatisfied with his response. “Don’t listen to him. Call the boy.”

I rolled my eyes and Rossi picked up the case files, heading out of the precinct with the rest of the team and leaving Reid and I behind.

“That was… Uncomfortable” I laughed, combing a hand through my hair and picking up my bag.

“I was actually thinking how we could possibly utilise this whole George situation.”

“Yeah?”

Reid put his hands either side of me, pinning me against the table and putting his face a few inches away from mine. “You can tell Rossi you’re going out with him and then we’ll actually be able to spend some time together”

“And after a few ‘dates’ with George, or multiple nights where I don’t come home, how do you suppose he’ll react if I don’t start bringing George around as my boyfriend?”

“Just a few dates, not enough to be considered a relationship but enough so he’ll believe you’re trying.”

I hummed in response, my lips just about to press against Reid’s— The feeling i’d craved for the past 3 days that we’d been running around on this case—

“Agents?” One of the local officers stood in the doorway, Reid taking a large step back with his bright red face. “Sorry to interrupt, but Agent Hotchner is waiting outside.”

Clearing my throat and smiling, I moved off the table. “Thanks.”

She smiled briefly, taking one step away before turning back. “You two are a really cute couple.”

Reid put his bag on his shoulder, looking down to try and hide the smile on his face. “Thank you.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Completely exhausted from the case, I didn’t even bother to change once I’d walked into my hotel room. Instead just collapsed face first on the the plush bed, the TV on at a low volume and the heavy rainfall outside lulling me to sleep.

Of course, as my mind finally went blank and eyes fluttered shut, a knock came at my door and I had to force myself up.

“Reid?” I muttered, the boy standing in the hall rocking back and forth on his heels. And nodding at me as I opened the door, eh just stepped inside and closed it behind him.

“I need you”

“Couldn’t it wait? I’m so tired.” He titled his head slightly to the side, a tuft of hair sliding down his forehead and breaking me. “Fine, what is it? Chemistry? Math? Missing sock?”

“No, no.”

“Then what?”

“I need you.”

I sighed, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. “Spencer”

“Don’t say my name like that if you’re going to say no and send me away” His voice was so soft, breathy and faint. It set goosebumps up my arms.

Hotch’s room was beside mine, at least when Spencer snuck into my bedroom he had no chance of running in to Rossi since it was on the entirety opposite side of the house. I reached for the door handle, intent on sending Reid away, it wasn’t worth the risk even if I really wanted him right now too.

My arm brushed against his warm skin and I looked up at him, eyes locking on one other and drowning out everything around me.

I find life seldom follows the plans you've made.

Turning the lock on the door, Spencer waited for the click before hisface coming close to mine, sleepy eyes closing, medicine-sweet lips puckering up, and all the other sounds of the world going silent— The thunderstorm, whatever had been running on the television, the sound the rain made on the small balcony as it made a small puddle— all silent, as Spencer’s lips finally met mine and I couldn’t get enough of him.

I was tired and sore but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted him, all the time. His weight on top of me. I wanted feel his warm breath on my skin. I wanted his sweat to drop onto me.

Reid took a step forward, his hands sliding down my body and stopping at my hips, cold fingers sitting on the exposed skin where my shirt had ridden up. Our breathing became heavy, more desperate as we gave in to our urges.

He took another step, forcing me to take one backwards and kept doing so until I felt the hotel bed mattress behind me. I slid my hand down his chest, Reid groaning as I reached his waistband, hurriedly unbuckling his belt. I grabbed the zipper of his fly and he pulled away from me.

“You’re going to have to be really quiet” He had a painful expression on his face, eyes shifting between my lips and eyes as if it truly hurt him to pull away from me. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I can be quiet.”

He didn’t waste another second, letting me fall back on the mattress so he could hover over me. Soft open mouth kisses along my kneel as he carefully undid the buttons on my shirt and I tugged at his zipper.

He shifted his weight, using one hand to hold himself up as he dug though his back pocket. Putting the shiny plastic wrapper in his teeth before pushing his jeans the rest of the way down before moving to undo mine.

I take the wrapper from Reid. allow him to take his own shirt off as I open it, watching as he rushes to get back to smothering me in kisses.

My hand touches his chest and begins to fall in excruciating slow designs, the boy almost whining against my lips.

Gripping a pillow in my fists as he breathes against me, hot air down my exposed him.

Reid flips, me now straddling him and allowing me to playfully tug at the ends of his hair.

My phone vibrated on the bedside table, Reid groaning in frustration and pulling away from me.

“Ignore it” I muttered, using my index finger to turn his face so he was looking at me again. The phone stopped and he smiled into the kiss until the phone started again. He pulled away. Making me the one to whine this time.

“Hello?” He said into the phone “She’s busy.”

He hung up, putting the phone back on the bedside table and gripping his hands on my thighs to pull me closer to him. Skin to skin.

I moaned and Reid laughed, moving to place a kiss under my ear and whisper. “Quiet, remember?”

I wanted nothing more in that moment than to be with him. Feeling I was about to crumble like sand as the bed creaks beneath us.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We all arranged to meet in the lobby, Emily and I were talking, entertaining the possibility of a ‘girls night out’ soon.

JJ walked back towards us with coffee cups in her hands, offering us each one. “Where the hell is Reid?”

“Maybe we should send someone to check on him.” Morgan walked towards the elevato, pressing the button and the doors opening instantaneously.

“Hey” Reid greeted. “Ready to go?”

“What took you so long?” Rossi asked

“I didn’t get a very good nights rest.” He walked off the elevator, heading towards the exit. “Poor sleep habits often include an irregular schedule, more than 90 percent of law enforcement officers report being routinely fatigued.”

Reid and I were in seperate cars, unintentionally splitting into women in one and men in the other. I spent the entire drive wondering what they were talking about.

“You alright, Baker?” Emily asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror

“Yeah, i’m fine.” She raised an eyebrow and I sighed. Working with profilers sucks. “I’m just trying to work out why my dad is suddenly so pushy about me dating someone.”

“Maybe he knows you have a crush on Reid.” JJ shrugged

“JENNIFER!” Emily gasped

“You guys think I have a crush on Reid? Did you hit your head or something?”

Prentiss sighed, parking the black SUV “We may have realised a long time ago. It’s not a very kept secret. I think everyone except Reid knows.”

“I’m pretty sure Morgan and Hotch are oblivious too.“ JJ laughed. Climbing out of the car.

We boarded the jet, JJ and Prentiss sharing a knowing look as I took my seat next to Spencer.

“Shut up” I mouthed, the pair of them shaking their head as Reid gave me a confused look.

As the jet started to take off, I listened to everyone’s conversations, checking my phone when it beeped to a new message from Garcia. I looked up through my eyelashes, Prentiss and JJ both looking at their phones and telling me we all just got the message.

Girls Night. Please. Tuesday. - P.G

Emily put her phone down first, mine and JJ’s buzzing again and Hotch noticing. “Are you three messaging each other?”

“Maybe” JJ smiled, putting her phone down after pressing send.

Morgan raised his eyebrow as mine and Emily’s phones buzzed again. “What are you talking about?”

Yes. We need to talk about Y/N and Reid. - E.P

Tuesday’s perfect, and I agree we need to talk about it. Code name: Romeo and Juliette. - J.J

“It’s girl talk, Morgan. And no matter how smooth you are, it’s just not for you.” I sighed, clicking send and making a point to turn my phone off.

“Come on, Cupcake, don’t do me like that.”

There’s nothing to talk about! … but I prefer Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy actually. - /.BR

We had small conversations until we landed, all heading to put away files and clean up our things before heading home.

“So?” Garcia smiled, taking a seat in my desk chair “Anything happen this time?”

“It’s a work trip, G.”

“But Em and JJ know now, so something must have happened!”

“They just worked it out, profilers notice everything.” Apart from that we’d been in an exclusive relationship for a while now.

“You two are totally smitten, just ask Reid on a date. Rossi doesn’t have to know, I can keep a secret. Swear.”

I looked at Reid talking to Morgan across the room, nobody else knowing about the purple marks hidden just beneath his collar.

“See!” Garcia signed “You’re even blushing just looking at him.”

“Nothings going to happen between us.”

“Ready to go home?” Rossi smiled as he walked up to Garcia and I, oblivious to the conversation he had just interrupted. I nodded and he adjusted his bag strap. “Did you call, George?”

Garcia’s eyes snapped to look at my face. I had to focus on how I would answer, he’d know if I was panicked or lying.

“Yeah he called last night.” Truthfully he did, it’s just I didn’t answer, Reid did.

“And?” Penelope urged

I shrugged. “I’m very busy.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Girls Night Out. Usually we’d be out at a bar getting insanely drunk, but the night started at JJ’s house waiting for Will to come home.

“He’s asleep” She sighed, returning in the 3rd outfit she’d tried on since Henry had decided to throw up on her 1st dress and pee on the 2nd.

“Finally. Now we can discuss.” Garcia smiled, shifting in her spot on the sofa to look at me on the armchair. “Go on, Y/N.”

I laughed, having hoped they would have forgotten this topic over our luxurious 3 days off of work. “Discuss what?”

“Tell them how long you’ve been in love with Reid.”

“I’ve never been in love with Reid!” I protested

“First day she arrived at the BAU, the both of them, practically drooling.”

“Really?” Emily smiled, looking at me with a glint in her eye.

“Hey, well don’t you all look pretty.” Will draped his coat over the back of the couch, everyone greeting him and standing ready to leave.

“Henry‘s asleep, we’ll hopefully only be out for a few hours.” JJ kissed her partner and he gave her a warm loving smile. Maybe I could tell them about Reid and I, but we had a very different situation to others.

Most people don’t work with both their boyfriend and father.

As we left JJ’s the topic shifted and I was immediately relieved, enjoying listening to everyone’s funny anecdotes much more.

The bar we went to was busy, full of people out celebrating. Any time my glass was empty, a new one seemed to appear in front of me until I was viewing everything in a slight haze.

“I think we should go!” JJ announced loudly, pushing herself up from the table and knocking over Emily’s drink.

“At least it’s the weekend” Garcia groaned, picking up her back and adjusting her glasses.

Emily snorted “It’s Tuesday”

“Oh god”

As we managed to make our way outside, JJ’s phone rang and I whined. “Please don’t tell me someone’s murdered again”

JJ answers the call “It’s Will”

“Will!” I cheered, flagging down a taxi for us. I told the man Garcia’s address first since her apartment building was the closest, and we drove off as soon as JJ was done on the phone telling Will we were all safe.

Emily, as the most sober. was in the front telling the driver addresses and making sure we all got to the door safely.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” Prentiss sighed, knocking on the front door as I attempted to find my keys at the bottom of my bag.

Rossi opened the door, pyjamas on and sleep in his eyes.

“Dad, what’s up?” I snapped my fingers, finding my keys. I wasn’t completely drunk but I was buzzed enough that I needed a babysitter.

Rossi looked at Emily as he let me inside “Thank you” Shutting the door behind me, he put his hands on my shoulders to guide me to my bedroom. “Don’t throw up on my carpet”

“I won’t” I groaned, pulling my jacket off and throwing it on the end of my bed with my bag. Rossi turned the light on in my bathroom, walking off and returning with a large glass of water and some snacks.

“Get some rest.” He said softly, pushing a loose strand of hair from my face.

After he was gone, I yawned and pulled my phone from my bag, keying in Reid’s number.

“Spencer” I coo’d when he answered, dragging his name out.

“How much did you drink?”

“Not enough.”

“It’s been stated that to reduce the risk of harm from alcohol-related disease or injury, a healthy limit is to have no more than 10 standard drinks a week and no more than 4 standard drinks on any one day.”

I stayed silent for a few seconds, mentally trying to count how many drinks i’d had. “Then I had way too many.” Reid chuckled on the other side. “Come over.”

“Alcohol primarily affects areas of the brain associated with behavior regulation, this impairment in judgment makes people much more prone to saying the they normally wouldn’t sober.”

“But I would invite you over sober”

“A sober brain helps weigh the good and bad consequences of any decision, therefore I know that it’s probably a bad idea.”

“I hate sleeping alone”

“I believe this is what Morgan’s called a, uh, a ‘booty call’. Human nature to be monogamous but humans quite frequently engage in short-term sexual relationships as well. Evolutionary psychologists resolve this paradox by proposing that men and women employ both long-term and short-term mating strategies, depending on the circumstances. It’s important to note that—”

“Spence. Please.” There was a long pause, a few rustles coming from his end. “Spencer?”

“Hold on, I’m putting my shoes on”

By the time I heard the knocking on my window, i’d already changed into an oversized FBI t-shirt and pair or shorts. I pulled the curtains open, smiling at Reid and letting him in. Much more sober than I had been when I got home.

“Hi”

“Hi” He smiled.

He took a seat on the edge of my bed, taking his shoes off and I looked over the outfit he had on. Plaid pyjama pants, a grey shirt.

He dropped his dirty old converse and stood, stepping towards me slowly and embracing me in a warm hug. I practically melted into his arms, Reid pushing the hair from my face so he could gently kiss my forehead.

“Prentiss and JJ think I have a crush on you and you’re oblivious” I muttered, feeling his chest rise and fall as he laughed.

Moving away from him, I laid on my bed and waited for him to join me. The bed dipped and I reached for the remote on my bedside table.

Spencer raised an eyebrow “Really?”

“You need a horror movie education, i’m thinking The Shining. Morgan and I were talking the other day about how it was a revolutionary film for its time since it explored horror conventions such as isolation, fear, mental illness, and duality—”

Reid cuts me off by rolling over so that he's laying on top of me, parting my legs with one hand. "I get jealous when you talk about Derek like that," he says in a low voice, surprised that he's admitting this to her. "It gives me the wrong idea."

I can already feel my heart beginning to beat faster. "You know he’s just a friend" she whispers, my mind going wild when he leans down, pulling the neckline of my shirt and kissing my collarbone.

"But he gets to call you nicknames, and I don’t" Reid whispers back and looks down at me again.

Before I can even think about her response the words, "But i’m all yours" spill from my lips and he smirks.

Our lips become one and Reid grinds his hips against mine, groaning as he does so. He keeps moving his hips, creating a friction that make my breathing shallow— makes me want more.

He pulls away, slipping the shirt over my head and kissing around my chest. "You know how crazy this all is?" He asks, hands reaching down for the button and zipper of his jeans as I nod. Our romantic situation was our secret but we knew it was crazy since we should have just told people from the start.

He stands so that he can pull his shirt off and motions for me to get up with a finger. "Can we try something?" he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling her down with him.

He positions me so that my crotch is on his thigh and places his hands on my hips. Spencer's eyes take every single inch of my body. Never once had I felt bad about myself when with him. Whispering in my ear what he hoped to do with me tonight.

Normally, the idea of dry humping someone to the point of orgasm would sound like a ridiculous and odd suggestion, but with Spencer it was different.

We kiss again and I nod, willing to do practically anything that he could ever want to do together.

Reid’s hold on my hips tightens as he presses me down on to his thigh and, slowly, he begins to rock me back and forth.

I try to think of how many other ways he could make each other feel. Not just physically.

Placing my hands on his shoulders as he begins to move me faster, and pressing his mouth to my neck.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Y/N” Rossi called out, wrapping his knuckles on the bedroom door. “Are you awake, Hotch said he tried to call.”

I shot up in bed, Reid still peacefully asleep beside me and I shook him awake. The boy blinked slowly, smiling at me like I was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

“Y/N?”

The smile disappeared and Reid threw the blanket off of him. Rushing around the room as quietly as possible to grab his clothes.

“One second dad” I picked Reid’s boxers off the floor, throwing them at him. He pulled them, and his pants, on as I opened the window for him to climb out.

Reid put his arms in his shirt, climbing out the window and pulling his head through the hole. He rushed away and I cautiously opened the door, pretending to rub my eyes. “Good morning”

Rossi smiled, cup of coffee in hand. “Your cell must be off, Hotch called asking you to come in.”

“I’m not meant to start until 12” I sighed, looking at the clock on my bedside. 9:30am.

“Better get moving” He brought his cup to his lips, turning and walking away as I closed the door and went to close the window.

“Hey” Reid reappeared outside, startling me.

“Jesus” I put my hand to my chest. “What are you still doing here?”

“I forgot something”

“You never forget anything”

Reid kissed me quickly, his lips warm and soft. “I love you”

He left before I had the chance to say anything back, leaving me dazed at the window for a minute until I managed to force myself to get dressed for the day.

Hotch smiled as he sat me, Garcia, Prentiss and JJ at the table. “Have a fun night last night?”

“The volume is up here” Garcia held her hand above her head, moving it down to the table height. “It needs to be here”

“You still have paperwork to fill out, need it done before the rest of the team gets here.”

Sitting at my desk, I mindlessly filled out the paper. Garcia got to sit in the quiet darkness of her office, meanwhile Prentiss, JJ and I were in the open bullpen. People walking buy constantly, and since JJ had the worst hangover she was constantly complaining I looked over my desk, groaning when I couldn’t find what I was looking for and picking up my phone.

“Hey, Rossi.” I sighed, rubbing my head with my thumb and forefinger. “I must have accidentally taken one of my files home last night, do you mind grabbing it from my room?”

I could practically feel the sarcasm radiating off of him through the phone. “Oh yes my darling daughter, your wish is my command.”

“See you when you get here.” I yawned, ending the call knowing he’d grab the file from my room for me. Spencer pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk across from me. “Good morning, Reid.”

“Morning, Baker.” He greeted, glancing around before leaning forward and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Coincidentally, I found myself walking home in my socks this morning.”

He nodded to his foot, poking his leg out from the desk and I held back a laugh. “You’ll have to collect them later.”

“I guess so”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Rossi put his phone and keys down, closing the front door again so he could go and grab what Y/N had forgotten.

He walked into her room, spotting the folder on her dresser and picking it up.

Feeling the cold breeze coming in through the open window and walking to close it, Rossi almost tripped in the sneakers by the window.

David Rossi picked up the shoes, intent on moving them to the shoe rack in the open closet but stopped. He’d seen these shoes before, but he knew what his daughter wore.

It hit him.

Rossi knew who these shoes belonged to. And he was angry.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We were waiting in the briefing room, all of us chatting at the table when Rossi walked in, smacking the file down in front of me. I looked up with a smile, about to thank him when I saw the look etched on his face.

A moment later, Reid looked up at me noticing the tension and then looking up at my dad.

Rossi ran his tongue along his teeth. “Why haven’t you called George?”

“We’ve been busy, but I’ll— I’ll do it” I tried to smile but the look on his face didn’t change, instead, taking his hand from behind his back and revealing none other than Reid’s shoes.

“Crap” Spencer whispered. Everyone silencing as they tried to understand what was happening now.

“Dave?” Hotch asked “You alright?”

“Spencer? Anything you want to say?” Rossi urged

I swallowed the lump in my throat “Dad”

Rossi slammed the shoes down on the desk “He’s messing around with my kid!”

“Technically, uh, I think ‘messing around’ implies that we’re frequently having unprotected sex” All eyes went to Reid, nobody knowing what to say exactly.

“Kid—” Morgan started

“Which We’re— We’re not.” Reid held his hands up in defence. “Well, we are, uh, active just not an impractical—”

“Spencer!” I shouted, trying to get the man to stop talking all together.

“—Amount. Once a week is a common baseline, although that statistic depends slightly on age: 40 to 50 year olds tend to fall around that baseline, while 20 to 30 year olds tend to average around twice a week.”

“Spencer!”

“Right.” The boy finally stopped talking. Everyone at the table was silent, eyes shifting between Spencer and I.

“Are you really mad?” I asked quietly, Rossi pulling out his seat and putting his head in his hands.

“No” He sighed. “Disappointed.”

“Why?” He’d already walked in here and slammed shoes on the table, making it everyone’s business. They’d find out eventually so we may as well have this conversation now.

“You kept it from me. I’m your father and you were sneaking around behind my back, don’t you trust me?”

“Can I say something?” Reid asked, Rossi pointing a finger at him.

“No.”

Spencer ignored this. “In our field everyone is at constant risk. We all know someone who’s been effected by our job, it was a lot safer for us to not tell anyone when we started dating. We actually discussed telling you around month 2 but it was—”

“How long has this been going on?”

“228 days” Everyone looked at Reid. “7 months”

“Rossi, it’s not that bad.” Hotch tired to make his friend see the bright side. “Albeit I didn’t know how far it had gone, I thought it was obvious they had some sort of attractive to one another”

Rossi looked at him with wide eyes. “You knew?”

“How did you not know? They always sit next to each other, long stares and awkward glances.” Morgan practically scoffed.

“Oh shut up, none of you really knew.” I laughed, feeling the mood change in the room.

Everyone laughed, agreeing and talking about how they only thought it was a meaningless crush that we’d never pursue.

“So” Rossi started once the laughter had died down, a small smile on his face. “7 months it’s serious? You’re not going to hurt my daughter?”

Spencer tensed. “No— No sir.”

“Good, because you know I have a gun and can use it.” Rossi leaned back in his chair. “Please just knocknext time you come to my house.”

“Oh my god you would not believe how big the bucket load of crazy in this case is I—” Garcia walked into the room, ready to present us with our new case when she stopped. “What did I miss?”

“Everyone knows that Y/N likes Reid.” Emily informed her. “And that Reid likes her.”

God it sounded so much like some school yard drama.

“Everyone? Oh… So what now?”

After Penelope was caught up, and celebrated that she was right— Noting “Penelope Garcia will always notice a blooming office romance. Always. Especially if it’s love at first sight.”— We were sent to pack for our case, Reid and I staying behind in the briefing room as he put his shoes on.

“No exactly how I wanted everything to go but I’m assuming it’s been accepted. We’ll have to fill out an Employee Relationship Management in HR.” Reid stood and I grinned up at him. “What?”

“I forgot something”

He looked at the table. “No, there’s nothing—” I cut him off by kissing him, waiting until he kissed me back before pulling away. “One more, one more.” Our lips met again, full of emotion. Gentle, loving and romantic. The perfect kiss.

“I love you, too” I whispered as I pulled back, Spencer staring at me in silence, slowly sliding his hands across my body to rest in the small of my back and resting his forehead against mine.

“Hey!” Rossi knocked on the glass. “None of that. Hands where I can see them Reid, you’re a smart boy you should know better.”

527 notes · View notes

arabellavernierwrites · 11 months

Note

For Spencer Reid x reader request (if u still want)

What about reader has to give a speech or something for the press (for some reason JJ couldn't, maybe it was meant for the unsub or something and reader fits his type or whatever) and she's like really nervous because she hates talking to such a large public. Spencer comforts her but when she stood in front of all those people she just frooze and got a meltdown. Just Spencer comforting reader (maybe autistic reader but doesn't have to) :)

Thank u in advance!

public speaking. s.r.

summary : in an especially difficult case , you are asked to hold a press conference. having to face your fear of public speaking , spencer helps encourage you. (could be read as platonic , as well as autistic reader if you like !)

word count : 2022

warnings : anxiety attack , overstimulation (could also be read as autistic overstimulation , i wanted to include themes of both), mentions of feeling sick (vomit) , extreme fear , descriptions of panic

a/n : hello guys ! oh my gosh thank you so much for sending in a request ! they are so much fun to do , and i am so grateful that you all like my work enough to want me to write something for you. it really means a lot to me. i’ve been really in the mood for writing lately , so i will be getting around to putting more out , so please send requests if you have any ! you guys have been so wonderful to me i really am so grateful for the treatment that i have received from you all , you are so sweet ! have an amazing incredibly wonderful day ! love you guys !

when jj left for maternity leave, you were more than happy to step in for her. a good friend and a good coworker, you wanted to make her proud.

you were great at your job, more organized and efficient than anyone at the bureau on most occasions. case files would fly in and out of your office on the daily, stacks forming and diminishing with each passing hour that you worked.

you were praised by your superiors often, making everyone’s taks easier for them with just how skilled of a liaison you were.

when it came to conferences, or communicating with large groups of press, you struggled. the idea of standing in front of dozens of bright, flashing cameras, men and women barking at you from all angles with questions and accusations, and having to make sure you speak to the public in a matter that satisfies them, all while not revealing more than allowed, petrified you.

your body shook at the possibility of getting tongue-tied in front of everyone, messing up, tripping over your words, or misspeaking and costing yourself a career. the very thought of walking up to a podium to make an announcement for a case detrimental to someone’s livelihood made you freeze up and panic.

when jj had returned, your mind was at peace knowing that you weren’t going to have to hold down vomit in front of a meeting hall of untamed journalists again. or so you thought.

“look, i know that this isn’t ideal. but you fit the type that this guy is after,” jj spoke sincerely, “i talked with hotch, and we both agree that we think that it’s best if you hold the conference. it may draw him out”.

all oxygen had left your body. an icy chill shuttered down the length of your spine, your fingers and toes falling numb. the way the hairs stood on the back of your neck was sickening, making you feel like prey being hunted for sport.

“jj, i-” you started, preparing yourself to turn her down in a professional manner.

“trust me, i know how scary it is,” she stroked your arm, “but if we don’t do this now, this case is just gonna drag on and we are going to continue to lose more people”.

weeks into a gruesome case, everyone was exhausted and worn thin. you all wanted to put a criminal behind bars and return everyone home safely, but you felt miles away from that possibility.

the police station you had been working at was overflowing with officers, everyone flying in and out of rooms, falling all over each other with stacks of paper and coffee cups in hand, anxious to get this case solved.

“okay,” your hands shook, “i’ll do it”.

you and jj spoke for hours. she coached you on what to say, how to act, and what to do if things went awry. you two wrote and rewrote outlines for your very public announcement.

what was supposed to make you feel more prepared for the meeting later, ended up sinking fear and doubt deeper into your skin.

the team was waiting in an empty classroom at the local elementary school. heat radiated through the windows under the mercy of the summer sun, journalists and reporters flooded into the gymnasium in hopes to get a seat to witness the fbi’s latest statement.

you sat on one of the desks in the small, uncomfortably warm classroom. your mind was racing, your heart beating in competition to keep up with it. you tried to breathe deep, to fill your lungs with confidence and release the doubt that plagued your thoughts. but the more you inhaled and exhaled, the more you found yourself coming up short of breath.

the thick air of the classroom laced itself around you, pulling itself tighter until it suffocated you. beads of sweat threatened to form on your forehead as you felt your vision tunneling. you hopped up off the desk, shaking your hands out as you hurried into the empty hallway.

the sound of your heels clacking on the floor reverberated off the walls as you paced. the pattern on the linoleum was dizzying as it moved beneath your feet.

“are you alright?”

your head turned. spencer approached you from the end of the hallway, his tall, lean figure highlighted by the obnoxiously fluorescent lights above you.

“spencer, what do i do?” your voice teetered on cracking as you slid down the wall next to you, your back brushing against the lockers as you pressed your face to your knees.

“may i ask what you’re afraid of?” he spoke genuinely, taking a seat next to you.

“i’m afraid of messing up and saying something stupid, or forgetting what i’m supposed to say and sounding stupid,” you ran your fingers through your hair, gently tugging at the roots, “i’m afraid of saying the wrong thing and getting another young woman killed. i’m afraid of this guy coming after me. i’m afraid someone is gonna ask a question i have no idea how to answer. i’m afraid of freaking out and embarrassing myself in front of all of those people”.

“hey, he’s not gonna go after you,” spencer stopped you from pulling at your scalp, “and you’ll do great. you know more about this case than anyone else, you’ve been reciting information about it to the precinct for weeks. you shouldn’t worry about stumbling over a word, you’re an eloquent speaker. and if this does add another victim to our board, you know it won’t be your fault”.

you lifted your head to look at spencer, your hands still in his. his big, brown eyes bore into yours. a painting of worry, and sickening sweetness, framed his face. care and kindness poured from his soul in a way that almost made you nauseous to think about.

you groaned, throwing your head back against the lockers behind you, “stop making me believe in myself. it’s corny”.

spencer laughed, feigning disbelief, “i just gave you an uplifting speech!”

a door at the end of the hallway creaked open, hotch peaked his head out and called to you, “it’s time for you to go”.

you pressed your forehead to spencer’s shoulder, “you’re sure i’ve got this?”

he smiled, “i’m sure”.

“thank you,” you sighed deeply, “i feel like i’m gonna throw up all over your shoes”.

“come on,” spencer stood up, reaching his hands out to pull you to your feet, “we’ll walk you in there”.

the elementary school gym was filled to the brim, guests overflowing through the doors into the parking lot. loud chatter occupied the space, the air buzzing with heat and anticipation.

you took a deep breath, entering the double doors to stand behind the podium.

shouts erupted from the audience. people struggling to refrain from jumping out of their seats, cameras flashing, shuttering, spewing clacking sounds that mocked their owner. the already loud room grew with noise, voices climbing up walls and swinging from the ceiling, pummeling your sensitive eardrums.

a wave of cold rushed over you, your body tensing as you stood behind the small black microphone. a small yelp of feedback echoed as you placed your hands on the sealed wood of the podium. you tried to control the fear in your eyes, needing to put a mask of professionalism on in front of a crowd of animals.

“good afternoon,” you started, “as of 5:00pm today, we are still looking for the subject that has committed these heinous acts”.

the crowd erupted once again. insults were thrown at you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if chairs were to join that mix soon.

“we have been utilizing every force of manpower we have for several weeks now. our officers are spread thin, but we are working overtime to make sure this we can get this case closed and bring everyone home safely,” your hands were shaking in front of you. a sense of false confidence had gotten you this far, but as the atmosphere of the gymnasium started to sink in, your breath caught up with you.

“we have no further updates at this time,” you cleared your throat, trying to remain unbothered by the incessant yelling and flashing lights, “but we are continuing our search”.

a queasy feeling started to overtake you as the volume of the crowd became unbearable. shouts became deafening, camera clicks echoed the kickback of a gun, and you had to blink to make sure the walls weren’t actually closing in around you.

you knew that your silence had gone on for too long now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a tightening rope around your neck. your mind went blank in a white, hot explosion of panic.

“we,” you tried to breathe deep, but it came out sounding more like a hiccup, “we will not be taking”.

you cleared your throat again, feeling like the floor had just opened up beneath you, “we will not be taking any questions at this time”.

you rushed yourself off of the stage, bursting through the double doors again, pulling at the ends of your hair as you choked on hot tears.

the fabric of your blouse fluttered at the pace of the rising and falling of your chest. you unbuttoned it slightly, tearing off your blazer as you practically fell into the nearest classroom.

your ears burned, your face burned, everything burned and stung and started to shut down as you stumbled your way through the room, catching yourself on a desk.

you hunched over, panting, trying to pull your mind from the depths of the sea of thoughts it was drowning in, but no amount of deep breathing was going to keep it afloat.

“hey,” spencer hurried in after you, running over to hold you up, “are you okay?”

“i screwed up,” you gasped, his touch the only thing reminding you you’re still alive.

“breathe,” he ordered, turning to face you, “breathe with me”.

you gripped his forearms tightly, locking eyes. he was worried, but his gaze remained calm, grounded here with you. he slowly breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, keeping a steady pace that didn’t feel as much like a wild animal thrashing around as before.

the room around you began to return, no longer as dark and blurry as before. you felt real in your skin again, the sensation of spencer’s pulse beneath your fingertips gluing you in reality. the fear of looming unconsciousness escaped you as oxygen filled your lungs once again.

as you came back to yourself, the guilt and embarrassment set in. you fought the tears welling in your eyes.

“i messed up, spencer,” you choked back a whine, looking to the floor in shame.

“it really wasn’t as bad as you think,” spencer leaned in, pulling you to his chest, gently, “towards the end you froze up a little, but i don’t think anyone would have noticed”.

“i forgot like half of what jj instructed me to say,” you sniffled, “that girl could die because i didn’t inform the public of necessary information”.

spencer ran his fingers through your hair, “you told the public all the information that could be potentially helpful. there’s not all that much we can go on, and that’s not your fault”.

you swore under your breath, feeling yourself breaking in his arms, “i feel awful”.

the tears flowed as fast as they came, hot and ugly and full of embarrassment.

spencer’s hand rubbed soft circles on your back, “i don’t want to tell you how to feel, but it shouldn’t be awful. regardless of how you think you did, i’m proud of you for getting up there and doing it. so, please, don’t beat yourself up over it”.

“we both know that’s a promise i can’t keep,” you tearfully chuckled, looking up at spencer, “thank you. for those few seconds that i felt like i stood a chance, that confidence came from you”.

“so my uplifting speech was uplifting?” he asked, smiling bashfully.

you jokingly smacked his chest, “i guess you could say that”.

272 notes · View notes

radiant-reid · 1 year

Text

Irreplaceable

Summary: Sad about JJ’s sudden departure from the BAU, Spencer begins to hate her replacement

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst)

Content Warning: a tiny cm case description

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist | Navigation

Y/n met Jennifer Jareau twice before walking into the BAU for her first day at her new job.

The first time was a hush-hush meeting in Erin Strauss's office when JJ, as she preferred to be called, was informed she would be leaving the team and transferring to a highly classified job at the Department of Defense, and Y/n would be filling her role. She admired how well JJ took the news and dealt with Strauss.

It directly contrasted how JJ spoke about their mutual superior when they'd left Strauss's office and could speak privately. Clearly, she wasn't happy about it and assured Y/n it wouldn't happen once she told her Unit Chief.

Y/n wasn't worried either way. Her team at counterterrorism was okay. They didn't exactly make her feel like she was part of their unit, usually treating her like she was less than them for only being a communication liaison, but it wasn't a bad job, and she got to help people.

Still, there must have been something inside her that worried her because she pressed the sixth-floor button on the elevator and briefly showed Y/n around while explaining what her role was.

The second time was directly after JJ had been transferred from the team, unwillingly and unable to be stopped by her Unit Chief. It was awkward, to say the least, happening at the worst possible time, the blonde tearful as she explained her duties in more detail. She knew it was coming, judging by the list of responsibilities she already had made for Y/n.

The team had already gone home that night, aside from Aaron Hotchner who was clearly upset about JJ's sudden departure, but made an effort to sound welcoming.

Monday is the first day she'll be taking the elevator to the sixth floor instead of the seventh. Strauss didn't want to waste a moment in not having the BAU team fully staffed, even though it was her decision to remove their old communications liaison. Being new on a team is always scary, and knowing JJ's loss is still raw for them makes Y/n nervous. She knows they'll hate her or Strauss, and as bad as it sounds, she's hoping it's directed at the latter.

She goes to Hotch's office first, knocking on the door before worrying about if the knock is too loud, and he'll think she's overeager or annoying or too quiet, and he'll wish the Bureau had gotten someone more assertive.

"Come in." He calls.

She opens the door, balancing her box of stuff between her left hand and her hip. "Hi, I'm Y/n L/n. The new communications liaison." She says, unsure of if she's supposed to introduce herself.

"Of course." He nods, standing up to shake her hand before nodding to the seat in front of his desk. "Sit, please." She follows the instruction. "You didn't need to be here this early."

She cringes, realizing she's already appeared enthusiastic to her new Unit Chief, who's probably wishing she was JJ and that it was a regular Monday.

"I'm sorry if that's not okay." She quickly apologizes. "I just wanted to get my stuff from upstairs, set up before everyone else gets here, maybe have a trial run in the conference room." And now she looks like an insecure agent with no idea what she's doing.

Hotch proves how good a profiler he is quickly. "L/n, your evaluations show you're an excemplarary agent. You needn't worry so long as you keep up your high-standard of work on this team."

She nods, slightly more relaxed now, knowing he has some faith in her abilities. "I will, sir." She assures him.

"Settle into your office." He directs her. "There's a case file on your desk. Usually, they come straight to you, but I'm sure JJ explained that."

She nods again. "As well as leaving detailed notes."

"I'll present it to the team for you to observe, but you'll be liaising when we land in Denver." He informs her. "You have a go-bag packed?"

"Yes, sir." She answers, getting up to leave his office.

"You can call me Hotch like everyone else." He tells her. "And there's coffee in the kitchenette, help yourself to it."

Then he goes back to his paperwork, and she slips out with her box, shutting the door behind her. She tries not to focus on everyone's desks as she walks past, not wanting to invade their privacy, but she can't help figuring out who's messy and who's not, who has pictures or books.

JJ's office is slightly less cluttered than when Y/n first saw it. There are still stacks of paperwork, but there's room for the few personal effects Y/n brought.

The case file is there like Hotch said it would be, and she memorizes every detail in the time she has. It's not Hotch who comes to get her but another agent.

He smiles, dazzlingly, offering out his hand to shake hers. "I'm Derek Morgan." He introduces himself. "My office is down the hall."

"Y/n L/n." She introduces herself in exchange, standing and shaking his hand. "The new liaison."

Before he can say something else, someone else pokes their head around the doorway. "You're new." She states. "Are you nice?" She turns to Morgan. "Is she nice?"

Y/n stands there a little awkwardly at them discussing her in front of her, and she's a little worried that this is what it's like at the BAU.

"Baby girl, slow your roll." Morgan places a hand on her shoulder, soothing her. The petname doesn't phase her and Y/n wonders if they're dating or if they're even allowed to do that.

"I'm bad with change. I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly, visibly concerned about being rude. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the tech analyst."

"Y/n L/n." She introduces herself again. "I'm sorry about your friend leaving. I'm nice, though, I promise."

Penelope nods, accepting the answer. "Good. I think it's time for the profile briefing."

Y/n turns back to grab her copy of the file before following them out of her office. "Do you guys really have a private jet?" She asks as they walk along the hallway and through the glass doors.

"Not that I ever get to go on it, but yes." Penelope answers. "I spent my time in my lair, which you're welcome to come by anytime. I have fuzzy pens, toys, and lots of links to funny animal videos. As well as any and all information you might need."

"She's the woman who knows the most," Morgan says in agreement.

Garcia grins at him. "You're just saying that because it's true."

Before Y/n gains any more information, they arrive at the conference room, and she's got to calm her nerves before meeting the rest of the team.

Hotch is already there, as well as two other guys, one much older and one about her age, and a woman with dark hair. "This is Y/n L/n, the new communications liaison." Hotch does the introduction for her. "L/n, this is David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid."

She greets Rossi and Prentiss by shaking their hands, but upon offering Reid a handshake, he just turns away from her and sits down, not even acknowledging her verbally.

Thankfully, Hotch does something about the awkwardness they all sense from Reid's dismissive behavior and starts talking about the case.

For two months, she has worked at the BAU. For two months, Reid has despised her.

She's not sure if it was the offer of a handshake that started the hatred or if she'd fucked up some other way, or if she's just not who he wants to be communications liaison, but she walks on eggshells around him, terrified to slip up and have him yell at her or try to get her fired. So far, it's only been snarky comments, but it could get worse.

The rest of the team has been much more welcoming, even though they miss JJ. She's learned a lot about them. Rossi writes books, Hotch has a son named Jack, Morgan's from Chicago and he's not dating Garcia, and Garcia has the best collection of happy items.

Emily understands her the most, being the second newest team member, and Y/n can tell some of the time Emily comes by her office, it's just to chat and not for work.

This time with the gift of coffee. They got back two days ago, having one day off before they had to be back in the offices, where it's time for Y/n to pick another case.

"How are you doing?" Emily asks.

"Good." Y/n answers, although it's not convincing to Emily, who raises her eyebrows. "Everyone has been really welcoming... except Reid. Did you have problems with him when you started?"

Emily shakes her head. "The first case I worked, I spent most of my time with him." She answers. "He was snappy with me when he- well, when he was going through something. I thought Hotch hated me, though."

"Why?" She prompts.

"Well, he thought I was sent here to bring the whole team down," Emily answers like it's casual gossip and not a crazy, complicated speculation.

Y/n's eyes widen. "I guess that's worse."

"I didn't say it so that my situation sounded worse." She assures her new friend, who did already know that. "All I mean is, maybe something more is going on."

Y/n had already guessed that the something more was JJ's departure. "They were really close, huh?"

"Yeah." Emily agrees. "I'm still on your side, though. I love him like he's my little brother, which is why I can say he's being a dick." She laughs at Emily's words. "Missing JJ and liking you aren't mutually exclusive."

"Thanks, Em." She replies, feeling a little more cheered up for the next few days she's going to have to spend with Reid.

"Good morning, pretty ladies," Penelope says, poking her head around the doorframe. "Oh, are you gossiping without me? You better not be."

Emily shakes her head. "I promise we're not. Just discussing Reid and L/n."

"Not like that." Y/n jumps in quickly, making sure an office rumor doesn't start. Worse than Reid hating her for existing would be Reid thinking she's pathetic for having a crush on him.

"What's happened?" Penelope asks, sitting on the edge of the desk and waiting for the gossip.

"He's just kind of mean." Y/n minimizes it, not wanting to seem rude herself. "I think he probably just misses JJ."

Penelope taps her on the nose. "Look at you, little profiler." She jokes. "I'll talk to him."

Y/n shakes her head. "Please don't. He'll get over it, or he'll just be cold to me forever." She jokes.

"Okay, well, Hotch told me to come to get you because he's ready for the case to be briefed, so we can talk more about this later." She informs them.

The three of them get up, trailing to the conference room so Y/n can kick off another case with a briefing. She's gotten better at it in her time there, now delivering the facts effectively.

Then they're off to Chicago to catch what's looking to be a vigilant killer.

Hotch divides the team up as usual, pairing Y/n and Reid together at the precinct to create a geographic profile. It's not unknown that he dislikes her to everyone besides Penelope, who doesn't see them on the field.

Hotch is just hoping that putting them together in the conference room will force him to get over it.

"There's no address on the second victim." Reid realizes, turning to look at the file on the table before looking at the map he's been drawing on hanging up on the board.

"Yeah, he was homeless," Y/n informs him, wondering why he hadn't been paying attention when she said that on the jet. "Oh, I can call Penelope and ask if there was a general area he made purchases." She suggests, reaching for her phone and getting up.

"No." Reid shuts her down, taking his own phone. "I will."

She lets out a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to get a coffee." She leaves before he demands she gets him one too.

Reid ignores her, dialing Garcia's number. "How can I dazzle you with my bank of knowledge today, boy genius?" She asks.

So he asks for what he needs, holding the phone with one hand while he uses his other to trace over the suburbs. As usual, she has all the information he needs, but he can't get off the phone without metaphorically paying for it.

"How's Y/n?" She asks.

"Communications liaison L/n?" He asks, pretending that he'd forgotten her name. It makes Penelope scoff at his childish antics. "F-fine. I don't know."

She taps her pen, trying to find a way to talk about Y/n without making the problem obvious. "Do you like like her?" She asks.

He scoffs at the suggestion. "Of course not. She's trying to be a replacement JJ, and I think she's doing a bad job."

"She's yet to mess up." Penelope reminds him.

He knows it's true, but he doubles down anyway. "She will. And I'll get to say I told you so to everyone."

"Come on, Reid-"

"I have to go, Garcia." He says, ending the conversation before she can add anything else.

His blood is boiling at what's just happened. The whole interaction, thinking about Y/n: he hates it. He misses JJ, and Y/n just turned up and started pretending to be her. It's not the same. He's furious no one else notices it either. Why everyone thinks she's good at her job and so perfect is a mystery that he doesn't want to solve.

Then the team gives the profile, Y/n sitting there without comment until the very end. "And we cannot stress how important it is to keep the unsub's possible location out of the press." She tells the local cops. "Our only advantage is we know where he lives and will strike."

Reid thinks it's reductive, nothing about their profile should be in the media, but Hotch nods in agreement with her. "Thank you." He dismisses everyone.

Another victim is not what they need, but it's what they get, and the media runs wild while Y/n tries to control them. The press conference where she informs the public of (common sense) safety directions goes seemingly well, and the team ends up in the conference room to go over more details.

"Hotch, you need to see this," Y/n announces, walking swiftly into the room and turning the tv on. It's a news channel, reporting on information they shouldn't have, the inner details of the profile. "I don't know where they got it." She tells him sincerely.

Hotch has been in this position so many times that he's not surprised anymore. It's always a beat cop with a big mouth.

Reid, however, flies off the rails. "Are you seriously that bad at your job!? You know how much media attention is going to affect this case, the profilers explained that to you!" He yells at her, gaining everyone's attention and shock. They barely see him angry, let alone at one of them. "The press isn't meant to know any of that."

She gulps at the telling-off, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable. She just stands there in shame, not sure what to say.

Thankfully, Hotch steps in. "Reid, walk with me." He demands, dragging him out of the room.

Y/n is mortified to stand in front of the team as well, seeing their sympathy. Reid has definitely made it awkward. "I'm going to... get some air." She decides, speaking quietly before spinning around and practically running out of the building.

She feels stupid to be sitting outside crying over someone not liking her. It's not like she needs everyone to like her, but the conflict makes it awkward for the whole team, and as the newest member, she feels guilty for throwing the balance off.

Emily comes to see her after a few moments, bringing her the jacket she'd left inside. "Hey, you doing okay?" She asks.

Y/n's decided it's easier to pretend she's over it to avoid everyone else's pity. "Yeah, no, I'm good." She assures her. "Just unexpected."

"You deserve to be on this team," Emily tells her. It's something she wishes she had been told when she struggled acclimating to a new unit. "It's not your fault the press got that, Hotch knows that."

She scoffs. "I wish Reid did." Emily looks at her pitifully again. "I just want to move past it, Em." She decides.

Emily nods, understanding her desire not to draw attention to it. "Okay, let's go solve this case."

So they do. They find the unsub at his house in the kill zone, and when he goes to slide the knife into his victim, instead of surrendering, Reid shoots him. There's a silent agreement in thoughts that it's better he's dead. This way, there's no trial, they don't have to testify, and a jury isn't going to find him not guilty of killing people they think deserve to die anyway.

By the time the final press conference is over, and the media has been informed of the case wrapping with a shoutout to the local police department in true BAU fashion, Y/n's beyond ready to curl up in bed.

Unfortunately, the bed is a hotel one and not her own, but a bed is a bed, and she's too tired for it to matter.

She's about to get into bed when someone knocks on her door, and assuming it's Emily coming to check on her, she doesn't ignore it and walks over to the peephole.

It's Reid.

Y/n sighs, not knowing whether or not to answer it. The light is still on, so she can't pretend she's asleep. Unhappily, she opens it, waiting for him to start the conversation while crossing an arm over her chest defensively.

"Can I speak to you?" He asks.

She can't bite down a snarky comment. "Speak to me or yell at me?"

"That's what I wanted to come to talk to you about, t-to apologize." He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. He actually looks more uncomfortable than her, and she should be enjoying it more. He deserves to feel like that, she reminds herself.

"If it's just Hotch making you, I don't want to hear it." She tells him. He has defined how friendly they're going to be, she's just maintaining the attitude.

He shakes his head quickly. "He's not, I promise."

She steps aside to let him in, figuring it's a conversation that should be had in private. "Alright, keep talking." She prompts, standing in her room.

Spencer stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I've been horrible to you since you joined the team." He admits, and she doesn't protest, just nods. "I'm really sorry about that and, uh, what I said today. It was out of line, and despite what you probably think, not like me."

She's not sure what else to say. She knows he can be caring and kind, just not to her. "Thanks for shooting him." She settles on.

"I didn't do it for you." He says before realizing it sounds bad. "I mean, I didn't do it because you did a bad job. You did great, you always do great, and you really don't need that validated by me. I'm sorry, I'll stop talking."

"Thanks." She says simply. "I'm sorry I have to be here and not JJ. I know I'm replaceable on this team, but I'm not horrible."

"I know that." He assures her. "And I don't think you're replaceable."

She frowns. "I am actually a replacement."

"I guess, but you fit on this team." He assures her. He doesn't know how badly she needs to hear that and feel how different the BAU is from her old unit. "Really well, Y/n, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't. I shouldn't have taken out how I was feeling about JJ leaving on you. You're amazing at your job, and we're lucky to have you."

"We can start over." She decides. He's trustworthy and kind, and she's sure he'll act like that toward her. "Hi, I'm Y/n L/n. It's nice to meet you."

Spencer offers his hand out to shake hers like he hadn't the first time. "Spencer Reid. When I prove that I'm not a terrible person, and if it's not inappropriate, I'd like to take you to dinner."

That surprises her, only slightly less than it surprises him that he let the words come out of his mouth. He'd been thinking about that since what Penelope said on the phone, but it wasn't his intention to come to her room and include it in his apology.

She can't say she's upset about it, even though dating him hadn't crossed her mind while wondering why he hated her so much. "I'd consider that part of us turning a new leaf.”

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miley1442111 · 7 days

Text

the fifth kiss- s.reid

-----------------------------------

a/n: season one, episode 18 'Somebody's Watching'

summary: lila archer gets in the way of you and spencer.

pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader

warnings: general cm topics, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))

-----------------------------------

You sat in your hotel room, confused at the events of the day. Maybe it was the sweltering LA heat, or maybe it was the awful way Lila and Spencer were making goo-goo eyes at each other.

You had been at the gallery with him and his sub-par flirting. At least Lila was happy. When Spencer had to leave he was practically begging you to convince Gideon to leave him with Lila.

-----------------------------------

“Sprence, we have to go,” You grabbed his shoulder and went up on tip-toes to whisper in his ear. You started walking out of the gallery with Gideon and noticed Spencer didn’t follow.

“Spencer!” Gideon called to him.

Spencer walked up to you. “Do you need me? Or c-can I stick around here for a while?” He smiled shyly.

“Gideon wants you so I’d just ask him,’” you shrugged.

“But… Can you just ask him?” Spencer pushed.

“Spencer!” Gideon called. “Y/n!”

-----------------------------------

When Detective Kim asked you to look at the crime scene, and when the rest of the team was called, everyone knew that you’d be most helpful in this case. You’d been in the violent crimes division which meant you’d be able to accurately tell them if it was a gang, what kind of killer it was, and why they were doing it. On top of that you were definitely the most qualified to talk to Lila Archer when she came back with the note from her stalker/ the unsub because of your year as a liaison on a team in London.

“Hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n, this is Agent Morgan, Agent Greenaway, Agent Jareau, Agent Hotchner, and of course, you know Agent Gideon and Doctor Reid,” you introduced the team as she came into the room. “Agent Morgan and I will ask you some questions, if that’s ok?”

She nodded her head but her eyes stayed glued to where Spencer had his arm around you. You two were best friends, in the team's eyes. In reality, you two had been dating for the past 4 weeks. You hadn’t told anyone since it was only new but you really liked him. But, you two had sex and he hasn’t asked you out again. Granted, you’ve both been busy but… doubt was starting to creep in.

-----------------------------------

“Did you know Natalie Ryan?” You asked.

“We spoke when we were in public, but we were never friends,” she shrugged as she picked at her nails, clearly uninterested in what you had to say.

“What about Wally Mellman?” Morgan added.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He was killed a few months ago, did you know him?” You asked.

Lila shook her head. “I read for a part but they went a different way.”

“What way?” Elle asked as she entered the room.

“They cast another actress… it was Natalie,” she admitted.

“Nice way to get rid of competition,” Morgan said, eyeing her agent beside her.

“Hey it wasn’t me! I brought her into this damn police station,” he defended.

“Alright, do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” You asked.

“All the time,” she scoffed. “It kind of comes with the territory.”

“Yes, but an unusual amount,” you continued. “Something out of the ordinary that happens regularly-”

“Repetitive phone calls with hang-ups, gifts left anonymously,” Morgan started listing.

Lila wasn’t listening and she definitely wasn’t cooperating.

“Ms. Archer?” you asked. Her eyes snapped back to yours.

“Pardon?”

“Is there something more important you could be doing right now?” You snarked.

“Why isn’t Dr. Reid in here?” She asked.

“He’s busy,” Elle answered. “I can assure you, you are with the people you need to be with right now.”

“Yes, but why do I need to be with all of you?” She asked and your blood boiled.

“Because we’re the people on the team that have worked on stalking cases before, Dr. Reid, hasn’t,” Morgan gritted out, anger spilling from him too.

“Now back to the questions, does something out of the ordinary happen on a regular basis?”m You asked.

“I receive flowers,” she admitted. “On the 7th of each month they just appear in my trailer. Never a note, just a plain glass bowl. Red anemones, my favourite.”

“And you’ve never questioned who they’re from?” Elle asked.

“Celebrities get anonymous gifts all the time, she has fans y’know?”

“Does the number 7 mean anything to you? Did you meet anyone on the 7th, or in the 7th month of the year?”

“No,” she said, definitively. “I would remember.”

“Alright, who would you have told about red anemones being your favourite flower?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I guess my friends and family?” she sighed. “Can we be done now?”

“Lila, I need a list of people who would know that those flowers are your favourite, like… my boyfriend knows that my favourite flowers are blue lilies-” Lila’s eyes snapped to yours and immediately sized you up.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” She asked. “Are you dating Spencer?”

“No, I am not dating Dr. Reid,” you lied.

“Why are you two so close?” She questioned.

“Am I interviewing you or are you interviewing me?” You snapped back. “Ms. Archer, two people are dead because of you, that’s the reality of the situation. Dr. Reid is working your case, just like the rest of us. So, I suggest you start cooperating before someone else gets hurt.”

Lila’s eyes clouded and glossed over, she left the room, sniffling and on the verge of tears. You didn’t care. She was withholding information for no reason other than the fact that she liked Spencer.

“What happened?” Spencer demanded when he walked in. “Lila’s crying.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking brat.”

Elle and Derek nodded their heads in agreement while Spencer pulled a face of confusion.

“Spencer, she’s just like every other Hollywood starlet, selfish, self-centred, and really annoying,” Elle chuckled and both Derek and you laughed with her.

“She's a person who’s going through a very hard time right now,” he stated then turned his gaze on you. “and you spoke to her in an unprofessional way.”

You scoffed. “Right…”

“I mean it, she told me what you said.”

“You mean… the truth? Two people are dead because of her,” you sighed. “Listen Spencer, I don’t want to fight you over your clear crush on her,” something you hadn’t wanted to admit earlier. “So go for it, sleep with her, kiss her, I don't really care.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. You’d been on 4 dates. You two weren’t ‘dating’.

“Y/n-” Spencer tried but you got up.

“I’m going to grab some coffee,” you announced, then left with Spencer behind you.

“What do you mean you don’t care?” Spencer asked in a small voice as he stood behind you.

“Spencer, we both know you have a crush on Lila, if you want to go for it, go for it,” you sighed.

“But I… what about us?”

“We both know you got what you wanted,” you shrugged. “I just never thought you’d be like that.”

“W-what am I like?,” he stuttered.

You ignored his stupid question.“And Spencer, I don’t really take kindly to people questioning my ability to do my job, alright?”

Spencer just nodded, and walked away.

-----------------------------------

You cared. You cared a lot.

That’s why you were sitting in your hotel room alone and crying, confused about the day.

There was a knock at the door. You opened it and found Gideon.

“Evening?” You questioned as you let him in, brushing the tears off your cheeks.

“You and Spencer need to talk,” he stated.

“About what?”

“Your relationship, for one,” he sighed. “You two are both in love with each other, we can all see it, and now you’ve sent him off to go sleep with a movie star because he can’t stop stuttering around her?”

You looked away in embarrassment. “The goo-goo eyes didn’t help,” you shrugged, speaking like a dejected child.

“What was your first date?”

“We don-t- we aren’t-”

“Yes you did. Now tell me, what was your first date?”

“We went to the cinema near his apartment, we saw this Italian film, ‘La Chimera’, then we got lunch,” you rattled off.

“What was his body language throughout?”

“Gideon-” you sighed.

“Tell me,” he said sternly.

“He was nervous, he kept messing with his hands, he was stuttering, and when I kissed him he tensed up for a few seconds,” you rolled your eyes at Gideon’s antics.

“Exactly, and who is the only person on this team that Spencer genuinely seeks out to touch?” He asked.

“Me.”

“Exactly.”

“But still, he also likes her and I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not her!”

“But you’re you, and Spencer’s in love with you.”

You sighed. “I sent him off.”

“What?” He asked, horrified.

“I told him we were ‘casual’ and that I didn’t care if he dated someone else.”

“Why would you do that?” He hissed.

“Because I thought it was the right thing to do!”

“You’re supposed to be intelligent!” He groaned.

“I know!” You shouted back.

Gideon sighed and walked closer, pulling you into a hug. “You two will be ok.”

-----------------------------------

You sat beside Lila as she got into makeup. “I’m not stopping my life,” she stated.

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” you sighed.

Spencer walked up beside you two with a coke in his hand.

Lila turned her nose up at the coffee that she’d been drinking for the past few minutes and you almost laughed when she took his coke, expecting him to grab it right back. Your mouth dropped open when hee let her drink from it, then took a drink right after. She was called to the scene and you rolled your eyes.

“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” Derek teased.

“Shut up.”

“Go get ‘em loverboy.”

When Spencer met your eyes you swore you saw regret, or some kind of remorse in them. You ignored it.

-----------------------------------

“We were too late,” Gideon’s voice rang over your phone.

“Shit, she’s going to be devastated.”

“Don’t tell her yet,” he asked.

“Course.”

You hung up and gathered Lila and Spencer and some of her things.

-----------------------------------

You got picked up by Derek and Detective Kim, and you sent Spencer and Lila on their way.

“How are the two lovebirds?” Derek asked, exasperation and irritation clear in his voice.

“Oh, they’re all great, never a dull moment where she isn’t trying to get into his pants,” you sighed as you three walked out of the paparazzo's apartment.

“Where are we headed next?” you asked.

“Lila’s. We need to bring more people to her, maybe even get her to a safehouse,” Kim sighed. A motorcycle started and before you knew it, you were against the car and groaning in pain.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” Derek shouted.

“Yeah, it just grazed,” You nodded, looking at the flesh wound the bullet had left behind. “Get to Kim,” you told him. You reached for your gun and shot after the motorcyclist but they got away.

-----------------------------------

After being bandaged up, you and Derek sped to Lila’s house to find Spencer and Lila soaked.

-----------------------------------

“I fell into the pool,” Spencer admitted sheepishly.

“Sure, I’m sure there’s a bunch of photos of it,” you nodded sarcastically. You walked away, an uncertain heartbreak settling deep in your gut as you went through the photos, ripping them out, for his sake.

-----------------------------------

Spencer felt awful. He had been rude to you, he’d gone against you, he’d kissed someone else.

The entire time, all he could think about were the four times he’d kissed you.

-----------------------------------

One.

You two were outside the lunch place he loved and you’d both spent the entire meal talking about the film. It was comfortable, and probably too domestic to be a first date but Spencer didn’t mind. He loved the way you and him were comfortable around each other.

“So I’ll see you at work on Monday?” You smiled, that perfect smile that drove Spencer crazy.

“Yes, you will see me at work on Monday,” he smiled, breathing out slowly. You chuckled, then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips on his genuinely re-wired his entire being. He felt butterflies and heat run through him, until he kissed back. Then he knew that this was an addiction. That he wanted to kiss you every moment of every hour of every day for the rest of his life.

You had to guide his hands to your hips and it was a bit of a laughing/ kissing thing, but it was amazing all the same.

-----------------------------------

Two.

Spencer stood in your kitchen, grabbing his coat from the chair when you kissed him. This time he was prepared. His hands immediately went to your waist, large palms spanning over the navy colour of the sundress you were wearing. God you looked beautiful.

Again, your lips on his was something he’d never get enough of. How perfect you felt. How beautiful you were. He was sure he was in love.

-----------------------------------

Three.

You dragged him kicking and screaming to a farmer’s market, but in the end he’d enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed it because you’d actually kissed him twice. Once when he remembered something minute about you (How could he ever forget?) and another time when you’d simply wanted to. You and that damn sundress.

-----------------------------------

Four.

You were at his apartment and you were on his lap. He had been painfully hard as you continued kissing him and slowly grinding down on him.

“Do you want to…?” you asked, a hazy lust-filled smirk on your face.

Spencer just nodded.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked and chuckled when he sheepishly shook his head. “It’s fine, I’m on birth-control,” you smiled and Spencer just followed your lead.

After what felt like hours of you just sinking down on his ridiculously large cock, you finally started moving.

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled. “You’re so big,” you groaned into his ear. Spencer whimpered as you slowly moved up and down his length.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had thought about fucking you, a lot. Sometimes you were under him, sometimes you were over him, it didn’t matter. He wanted to fuck you.

And that he did.

After you fucked him on the couch, he turned it around and slammed into you with such vigour his couch moved. His fingers explored your core and once he ended up tasting you, he knew he couldn’t go back. He spent half an hour between your legs, licking and fingering you, moaning with you as if he was getting pleasure from it as well, which he was.

Once the both of you were cleaned up you fell asleep in his bed with his arms firmly around you. The next morning you both smiled at each other, not exactly shy but still hesitant to talk about what had happened. Spencer knew that was the right moment to ask you, but he couldn’t. He wanted you, all of you. He wanted you to be his girlfriend, then eventually his fiancee, and eventually his wife.

He was head over heels in love.

And when you kissed him sweetly, nothing like the sex-fuelled kisses from the night before, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

-----------------------------------

“W-what happened?” Spencer asked, signalling to the bandage on your arm.

“A bullet grazed me,” you shrugged.

“A-are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you gritted out. You didn’t look at him, in fear of catching a glimpse of those damn puppy-dog eyes.

-----------------------------------

As Spencer apologised to Lila, you searched the house.

The house was big, too big for one person to live here but you digressed. As you searched you gave yourself a moment to think over the events of the past 48 hours.

“Who’re you?” A blonde woman asked from her seat at the vanity.

“Who’re you?” you asked, pulling your gun. “Spencer!”

You could hear Spencer and Lila running to you.

For the second time that night, you were on the floor bleeding. Great. The police officers out front started running into the house as Spencer reached you. She’d hit you in your chest.

“Shit,” Spencer cursed. He pulled out his phone and called an ambulance. The officers took down Maggie and you were rushed to hospital.

-----------------------------------

Hours and hours of surgery later, you were awake with Spencer’s hand in yours.

“Hi,” he smiled softly.

“Hi.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have let you walk away like that. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “I’m glad things worked out between you and Lila.”

Spencer’s face dropped. “I don’t want Lila. I want you. I’m in love with you. I only want you.”

Your heart sped up, you could hear it on the monitor. Both you and Spencer laughed.

“Good. I’m in love with you too," you smiled once your laughter had subsided.

He leaned down and kissed you softly.

The fifth kiss.

-----------------------------------

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