#also I just think the people I have literally seen say 'I will unsub if Zenos comes back' are gigantic dramatic whiny babies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reiding-writing · 7 months ago

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Hiiii, first of all i wanna say congratsss!! You’re an amazing writer and i LOVE your stuff! Secondly, i would like to mention that i’ve never actually made a request before so bear with me 😬 Okay okay, so i was wondering if you could write cold!reader with angsty prompt 28. "I can't believe I didn't see that coming." and general prompt 23. “I thought I’d lost you.” Maybe spencer gets hurt and reader shows emotion (maybe some tears) and the team is all like ???

(feel free to ignore this btw 💗💗)

CLOSE CALL [CLIMACTERIC]

28. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.”

23. “I thought I’d lost you.”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, guns, hostage situation, character death, reader is her typical rash self, happy ending

spencer reid x cold!reader || hurt/comfort || 2.8k ||

a/n: thank you <3 i’m honoured to be the conduit you chose for your first request and i hope this is what you envisioned 🫶

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

event masterlist!!

Spencer’s hands shake so much as he pulls off his bulletproof vest you’re not sure how he has enough articulation in his fingers to do so in the first place.

“Reid, you’re not ready to do this.” Your words aren’t as harsh as they are truthful, but it cuts him down the same anyhow. “Let me or Hotch do it.”

“No, I need to do this myself,” Spencer shakes his head determinedly, and if he wasn’t so focused on the sheer amount of adrenaline running through his veins right no he’d probably be proud of himself for standing up to you and not just following your word as law, but alas, the only thing he could feel right now is absolute dread. “He won’t listen to you.”

Why was it always him that got personally involved with the unsubs? It was like they were a heat-seeking missile locked only onto his location.

Literally locked onto his location in this case. He’d seen him —Daniel as he called himself— on the train home from work, in the coffee shop he frequented, the local library, and he swears he also saw him parked in his apartment building’s parking lot.

It was like he was silently screaming at Spencer to notice him, and when he finally got to speak to the man, he asked for help. He was afraid. He was afraid of himself because he was having horribly intrusive thoughts that made him want to do terrible things and he viewed Spencer as his only scapegoat. Pros and cons of being all over the news for his job he supposes.

Spencer really did try to help him, but every suggestion he made was shut down like they weren’t good enough, like Daniel wanted Spencer to physically go into his brain and remove all of the faulty parts that were making him feel insane.

Spencer’s help just wasn’t good enough, and it lead to multiple people dying as a result.

And now Daniel was holding a woman hostage in her own house.

How was he supposed to not feel solely responsible for that?

Spencer had to be the one to speak to him. Not you or Hotch and your negotiation training, him and his personal connection to all the deaths that had happened because he wasn’t able to help someone that was begging him to save them from their own mind.

He practically shoves his revolver into your hand as he commits to going inside, taking a second to regulate his breathing before emerging from behind the SUVs to approach the closed front door, leaving you all in wait, guns raised at every window in the event that something goes wrong.

Something was bound to go wrong.

“Reid the minute that something feels off you leave, understand?” It technically wasn’t your call to make, but as you spoke into the small radio on your chest you weren’t really thinking about that. It’s not like Hotch would disagree with you anyway.

There’s a few seconds of silence over the radio, even though you know he heard you from the slight jolt in his spine as he reached the front door of the house. “Reid. Tell me that you understand that.”

“Copy,”

You had half the mind to drag him back into the car from that response alone. He clearly wasn’t listening to you, not properly anyway, and having such an emotional involvement in something like this was going to get him killed if he treated it the wrong way.

“Be careful,” Hotch was less antagonistic in his warning, but it held the same message.

Spencer threw an arbitrary thumbs up above his head before knocking on the door of the house and entering slowly with both his arms raised.

Then it was a waiting game. A stalemate where you had to sit with your guns trained and just wait for any sign of change. It was like absolute torture.

It was virtual silence and tumble weeds for the best of five minutes, and then there was a loud gunshot sound that echoed from inside the walls of the house, and all of that waiting felt for naught as you pressed the button on your radio with a steady stream of trepidation raising in your throat that he might not answer you. “Reid? Reid come in.”

You wait for something to come from the other side of the radio, even if it’s just the crackle of static from him pressing the button without actually speaking into it. But all you get is silence, and it makes that sinking feeling grow until you literally feel like you’re about to throw up your stomach.

You don’t think twice about running towards the front door of the house after you don’t get an answer, ignoring the calls of Hotch for you to back down and let SWAT take care of it so he didn’t possibly lose two agents instead of just one.

He knew you weren’t going to listen to him either way.

You open the door with your pistol raised at your eyes, the weight of Spencer’s revolver tucked into the waistband of your jeans acting both as an instrument to ground you and as a torturous reminder that the gunshot you heard couldn’t have possibly been from him.

It had to have come from Daniel.

Logically you should’ve swept the ground floor first before rushing straight into the dining room where you knew the three had been last, in case Daniel had left the room and approached you from behind.

You don’t of course, and you kick open the barricaded dining room door with enough force to splinter the door frame holding the hinge pin in place, the door hitting the wall with a thud.

The sight you’re met with is not what you expected to find.

“Reid—” You drop your gun to your side the second your eyes land on the back of his head, his back to you and his eyes locked on Daniel, lying on his back on the dining room floor with a bullet hole to the side of his head, his blood slowly pooling on the linoleum.

The woman he had hostage was alive too, thank god, practically trying to melt into the corner as she cried into her hands, obviously still in shock over what happened.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming,” Spencer’s words didn’t feel like they were coming from himself as he spoke, his voice feeling detached from his consciousness as his mind focused on fully comprehending the situation.

“I can’t believe how stupid you are—” Your body forces a sharp breath to leave your mouth as it cools don from the adrenaline rushing through your system, and you pull Spencer backwards by his arm to stop the blood from Daniel’s body reaching his shoes. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I just- I don’t know,” Spencer gives up on trying to find an explanation for his actions before even really thinking about it. He knows there’s no use, because he really wasn’t thinking, it was just acting on instinct.

“You see this Reid?” You give the radio on his chest a pull with your hand, causing him to stumble forward towards you in the process. “It’s a radio, use it.” There’s no denying the insurmountable rage in your tone as you berate Spencer for his carelessness, something that he most definitely deserves as he stands there nodding at you like an idiot.

You let go of his radio with a small push, sending him stumbling backwards this time, and you take a second to compose yourself before pressing on your own radio to communicate with the rest of the team. “I’ve got Reid and the hostage alive. The unsub shot himself.”

“Copy that, we’re coming in.”

Hotch’s voice may as well be a leaf in the wind as Spencer puts his full focus into how absolutely furious you seem with him.

“I’m sorry—”

”Sorry isn’t good enough.” You ignore the arrival of your teammates in the house, how they carefully guide the hostage outside to get her looked over by the ambulance waiting outside and how they secure the scene for the forensics team to deal with. “You cannot throw your life away by running head first into a dangerous situation knowing you can’t defend yourself.”

“I thought—”

“What? That it’d be fine? That you all of a sudden had all the training you needed to talk down an armed serial killer with serious delusions that could leave you as his next victim?” Maybe you we’re being a bit too harsh on him, but it was important he understood exactly what could’ve gone wrong. “You might be a genius Reid, but you are the dumbest goddamn person I have ever met.”

Spencer presses his lips together into a line at your declaration, lowering his head until his gaze is firmly planted on the floor.

“You are not an expendable resource, you can’t be replaced, and you need to understand that before you throw yourself into a possible line of fire do you understand me?” You ignore the lingering gaze of Hotch as you continue your verbal assault on Spencer, and you know you’ll probably get an earful yourself for being so hard on him, but he gave you a real scare, and you were expressing that to him in the way that suited you most.

“Yes I understand, I’m sorry…” The slight waver of his voice as he responds to you is enough to knock your anger down a peg, and you drag your hand down your face with a sigh.

“We were scared for you Reid, you could’ve died.”

“I know…”

You give another soft sigh at the voice he barely keeps his voice controlled as he whispers out his answer to you, on the verge of tears from your thorough verbal assault.

“Don’t do it again. I thought I’d lost you.” You lift up one of your hands to put it on his shoulder, although it lands closer to the curve of his neck, prompting his face upwards to meet your eyes once more. “And as much as you can be idiotic, the team needs you alive.”

He gives you a soft hum as an answer this time, not trusting his voice to not crack if he were to speak properly.

He tries not to focus on the warmth of your hand on his neck, nor on the fact that you’d said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ when talking about being concerned for his safety under fear of only worsening his attempts at keeping himself composed.

Your gaze softens marginally as you spot the glassiness of his eyes, and for a second he swears that the protective shield you cover yourself with disappears to show the amount of concern you truly felt for him.

“I’m okay… I promise,” He nods softly at you with rounded eyes. He’s mildly flattered by how much you care, but he doesn’t want you to show it as concern, positive emotions suited you much better he thinks.

“You’re lucky, and it won’t last forever,” You use you hand against his shoulder to turn him around, pushing him gently towards the front door and using the opportunity of him not facing you to swallow the start of your own tears, clearing your throat into your elbow as he takes your lead in leaving the house.

“Reid,” Hotch is on top of the two of you before you even walk out the door. “Go and meet Morgan by the ambulance, I want you checked over,”

“But—“

“Go,” Hotch’s inherent ability to be authoritative trumps Spencer’s resistance immediately, and Spencer begrudgingly leaves your side with a small “yes sir,” to go and be checked out by one of the EMTs.

You attempt to follow him at first, but you’re promptly stopped by Hotch raising his hand in your direction, and then gesturing you over to him.

“Berating somebody for running into a dangerous situation head first with how you responded is very—“

“Hypocritical, I know,” You interrupt the end of Hotch’s sentence by finishing it yourself. “But if he hadn’t gotten into that situation in the first place then I wouldn’t have had to respond the way I did,”

“I understand you care about Reid,” Hotch crosses his arms over his chest, and although there is zero malice in his expression or his tone, you can still tell that he’s not exactly happy with you right now. “But you also need to be more careful with how you handle yourself,”

You narrow your gaze at him a little, and he mirrors it right back at you. “You can’t worry about keeping Reid alive if you’re not alive yourself, you need to be more careful, understand?”

“Yes sir,” The words are almost begrudging as they leave your mouth, but you know he’s right really. Running in after Spencer without a second thought and then berating him for being reckless was hypocritical, and you probably deserved to be reprimanded for it.

—

“You really gave her a scare you know,” Morgan speaks, prompted by Spencer’s very obvious lingering glances in your direction as you speak with Hotch.

“I know,” Spencer sighs dejectedly as he finally removes his eyes from you to allow the paramedic in front of him to check his pupillary response. “She made sure of that,”

“She cares about you Reid,” Morgan gives him a squeeze on his shoulder. “You’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack if you keep this up,”

“That’s quite dramatic, the chances of somebody going into cardiac arrest from shock is extremely low, only 5% of all cases, and technically it would actually be cardiogenic shock, which isn’t a heart attack,”

“It’s a figure of speech Reid,” Morgan gives him a small playful shove after the paramedic has finished his evaluation, rolling his eyes. “Point is, you scared her, and I don’t know whether to be amazed or concerned at the fact that’s even possible,”

“She’s just as likely to be afraid as anyone else,” Spencer bites his cheek at Morgan’s declaration, unsure whether he should feel guilty or flustered at just how much you seemed to care about him, from the words of the rest of the team anyway.

“I mean yeah we were all worried about you, but she ran head first into the house with a potentially manic shooter inside, by herself, after Hotch told her to wait for backup,” Morgan gives Spencer a light nudge with his elbow, raising his eyebrows with an amused expression. “You know what I call that? Favouritism,”

Spencer lets out a small airy laugh, shaking his head as he stands from the edge of the ambulance.

“Face it pretty boy, you’re stuck with her for life, even if it means she follows you into an early grave,” The teasing in Morgan’s voice is unmistakeable, but his words ring truth either way. “Let’s just make sure you don’t end up in an early grave alright?”

“Yeah—” Spencer lets out another small breath through his mouth as Morgan pats his hand between his shoulder blades, gesturing for Spencer to follow him towards the rest of the team with a nod of his head.

Spencer doesn’t want to cut himself short just yet, especially if that means you’ll serve yourself the same fate. Although the idea of having you accompany him, even if it did mean in whatever lies after death, didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.

#✎𓂃climacteric。#cold!reader ᝰ.ᐟ #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

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mshexley · 2 years ago

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I think what’s very interesting about the defenders of the nazi magic game is that it’s a clear case of people being more concerned with being seen as a bad person than actually reflecting on why ppl view them that way and watching them argue with ppl on Tiktok has made that clear.

(putting a cut causes it’s long)

real shit I should go to school for sociology or psychology or something, this shit is fun to watch unfold

Because if they had just quietly played the game, they could’ve been quiet and wrong and wouldn’t have to be fighting for their lives. However, when people set the boundaries, the lines in the sand and said “hey I’m going to unfollow or unsub from anyone that streams the game” “hey, I’m gonna unfriend people who cross that line” and other variants, that’s when the pro-nazi wizard brigade truly starting their grandstanding.

Because being the type of person that others distance themselves from sounds like hell, especially in the landscape where the internet makes it easier to scrunitized. However, the response to justified scrunity is often to deflect.

One of the actual cons of this era of political correctness, is that when people like or dislike something, they don’t let it just be that. It has to be tied to some moral high ground to either justify your dislike or like of something.

This isn’t the case for everything obviously so here’s some examples for what I mean:

Koreaboos claim people are racist for not being liking Kpop or a specific group while also partaking in racist behavior themselves like harassing black Kpop fans or the very obvious example of them fetishizing Korean ppl.

The Boyfriends WebToon is also a good example because rather than leaving it at “oh I think it’s cringey” “oh it’s not my thing” they would have a moral high ground by claiming that the comic is fetishizing gay men because the author is a “woman” (the author is a gay trans man btw)

In more smaller instances, you can find this behavior in shipping wars. You’ll see a ship that’s being shat on for having a claimed “toxic dynamic” of some sort because simply saying you don’t like the ship doesn’t sway ppl’s opinions in your favor.

Back to the main topic, there is a similar thing happening with defenders of the game. Because despite the years of bigotry that Rowling has spewed and supported, despite the game having an ex-lead with an alt-right page that the company KNEW about already and that after his departure they felt is was too expensive to get rid of his inputs in the game…the real offense to these people…is that folks will stop liking them.

But rather than accept that, (which granted that’s rough but it’s a part of growth) they’d rather pretend that they are victims. No one held a gun to their head and told them to play the game. That was the bed they made but sitting in that shit is hard so they deflect.

“Well, I might have bought the game but LOOK I donated to trans charities. So that cancels it out.”

Except you could’ve done that with any game. Why this one? It’s not an own on anyone. Like it’s the equivalent of when conservatives were boycotting Starbucks…..by buying Starbucks.

Arguably even worse, are people who are going the “No you” approach where in response to people actually taking the time out of their day to educate folks about the history of Jewish caricatures and how goblins relate that, (something that don’t HAVE do to), people respond with by pretending that simply just isn’t the case. Literally ran across one comment that said “I just see goblins as goblins, if you see Jewish ppl then YOURE the one in the wrong”.

Except that when THIS

is in the game, it breaks that response into pieces. Many Jewish folk have pointed out that the item is a “shofar” often used for religious reasons. In Harry Potter, it’s a “war horn” that annoys witches and wizards.

“that’s just coincidence”

the year is interesting too. 1612 was the goblin rebellion in the game, I wonder what happened in the real world—

Hm. An infamous case of anti-Jewish bigotry in the country that would later become the deathbed of so many Jewish ppl during WW2.

so now at what point do these stop being coincidences? At what point do you just take the L?

Now people have more reasons to not associate with you and you’ll be left with a circlejerk of ignorance.

and it wouldn’t have even been that bad if y’all would’ve just shut the fuck up and read another book.

0 notes

vole-mon-amour · 2 years ago

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6x21.

Derek: "And she didn't know the UnSub was waiting for her? C'mon."

Spencer: "Villain."

Derek: "What?"

Spencer: "In the movies they're called villains."

Derek: "My bad."

What I can't get over is that irl they're not called UnSubs, too. The writers really created this terminology & went with it, making people that actually work in this field cringe.

You know when parents pretend about something with their young children in order for their children to learn and not being disappointed by the lack of their parents' reaction? David is doing the same with Spencer. What a good dad. x)

I love the unspoken rule within the team of "Rossi and Hotch sit next to each other", leaving an empty chair for one of them next to another one at the time either of them is absent/late.

"Where do you wanna sit?" — "Next to you."

This isn't from the show, but if you know, you know.

Aaron "I-know-your-politics-and-fuck-off-kindly-please-and-thank-you" Hotchner. <3 Idk if it's just me, but IDK what should happen for me to start liking Strauss.

Can we appreciate the timing? Someone Aaron can truthfully talk to just walks into the room while Strauss orders him to talk about it with someone. Why find Strauss when Aaron can sit down with David again & David can create a report? Like, c'mon, a scene from 6x20 literally exists. We could have that again & more of it.

David immediately offering his help & Aaron's quiet & soft "Tell me about it." How about Aaron thinking for a moment & going, "You know, I think you might have make my grief assessment." Even though David dislikes doing the paperwork, it's not that of a burden when Aaron is involved. He'd do it for him.

I can I can also imagine Aaron talking to Strauss, hating it, then coming home to David & David comforting him & making him better. Might as well write it. So many plot bunnies...

Spencer doesn't need to be taught things, he's already smart and experienced enough (and, even though David technically has more experience, Spencer has an amazing memory, he's savvy, so they're kind of even in this), but the way I see this as a family business and a proud dad watching his son helping on the case and doing great. x)

Ok, two quick unrelated questions:

I've seen David wearing that ring non-stop of his since the moment he came back to BAU. What significance does it hold to him? UPD: Joe said on his twitter that it's a 25 y.o. BAU ring, which only proves that he's the same workaholic that Aaron is. They ARE married to each other.

2. Why the hell doesn't the team goes to the possible victim's house first? Ah, we found our killer, let's kindly visit their apartment first, just in case. If you know that the killer is searching for his new victim & or already know who he's planning to attack, go secure them first?? I don't get it. They found out that the killer wants to (more likely) hurt his stepmother, but they visit his apartment in the middle of the day, hoping for what? That he's waiting for them to arrest him? Lol.

This sassy bastard. :D Hotch got it all in him.

Maybe he knows that they're not getting any new agents to the team rn, so he has no other choice rather than to teach her (when he doesn't have to, it's a dangerous situation). Luckily, just 3 more episodes until she goes away & I get my girls back, both of them. <3

Aside from the obvious, I dislike even the way Seaver tries to talk to victims. It's like she's a talking robot reading from a programmed script. "I had to be agressive towards you in order to gain Gregg's trust," she says in an automatic voice. "None of this wasn't your fault," she continues with a resting bitch face. Girl, you ok?

Aaron, David, Derek, Emily, JJ, even Spencer, they all empathize with the victims, they're gentle with them, their tone of voice is immediately changing. Sometimes rubbing the victims shoulder or patting them on the arm or hugging them is worth thousands of words. They always try to comfort the victim & they mean it. Seaver? No, just no.

This moment at the end will only work as gifs or a video, but how David rushes to kill the killer and Aaron, seeing him getting the shot, ducks.

Those glances, that silent communication, David exhaling and nodding. Good teamwork, you two.

Dads. <3 David would be a good dad & no wonder he can often find common ground with Jack in fanfics. Judging by what I've seen about next episode, he can canonically do that, too. Good for him. <3

#cm #natiswatching #writing ideas #hossi #moreid #david rossi #spencer reid #anti ashley seaver #aaron hotchner #joe mantegna

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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ain't it fun?

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Trauma Bonding, narcotics anonymous meetings, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, meet-cute,

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent and overly personal but i def recommend writing why spencer would love you as a form of therapy

read on ao3

In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing around her apartment. Her mental health was like a teeter-totter, and right now she was on her way to the top. Mania was creeping in; changing from just anxiety-induced butterflied to the feeling that she could jump off a building and survive.

That was never a good time. All she wanted was to either spend all her money, fuck a stranger or get high as shit. It made her legs jumpy and her ears ring and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much.

She threw on a sweater and jeans, her hair was up in a butterfly clip and she hastily threw on her fanny pack full of everything she needed as well as a big coat, and she then left her apartment. She got to the stairs before realizing she actually needed to lock the door.

Her hands shook and she tried to slide the key into the lock, dropping them as her neighbour rushed out of the room and startled her. “Sorry,” she heard him say.

She picked up her keys and turned to look at him, “can you help me? I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she asked as she held her keys towards him.

“yes, sure,” he rushed the words out as he walked towards her, only looking at the keys, never in her eyes. But that was okay, she was never a big fan of eye contact.

He placed her keys back in her hand and took a step back, “are you alright?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m going to find an NA meeting.”

“Do you have one in the area? I haven’t seen you around before?”

She shook her head, surprised that he was also an addict, he didn’t look like he’s ever even smoked weed.

“No, I moved in only a little while ago on a whim, but I think it’s time I got some support,” she said as they started to walk down the hallway together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiled softly. “I’m going to a meeting right now, actually, if you’d like to come? I won’t exactly be anonymous to you, but it’s a good one to go to if you just need one to fill the void until you find your preferred group.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiled at him this time as he held the door open for her. “So, have you lived around here for long?”

“For about a few years now.”

“The building is good then? I was a little hesitant but I needed to get away,” she said, this time holding the door for them to leave the building and turn down the street towards where she knew the subway was.

The moon should be out, she looked up but only sees buildings. It was the one thing she missed the most about not being in the country; seeing the stars and feeling like there was a reason to it all.

“Are you running from someone?” He asks as they start the walk down to the meeting.

“Myself,” she said softly. “I’m on disability and don’t drive and I lived in the middle of nowhere with my parents, well into my 20’s, and I needed a change so my parents surprised me by saving up money for a few month's rent and told me to follow my heart.”

“And you picked Virginia?”

“I stayed in Virginia, just moved into the city. I watch a lot of murder documentaries in my free time, I thought being near Quantico would introduce me to some interesting people, but I have yet to meet anyone from the FBI at all.”

She laughed to herself at how dumb it was that she wanted to meet a profiler like Holden Ford from Mindhunter, “either they are all very good at keeping their jobs secret or Virginia is a very large and densely populated area with a low percentage of FBI agents.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, slowing as he walked so he could look at her.

“2 months.”

“It took you two months to meet the FBI agent across the hall from you.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, stopping on the sidewalk abruptly. “I knew that apartment was calling me for a reason.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, are you really just coincidentally my neighbour or are you secretly spying on me because you have an evil plan to kill me and my co-workers?” he's completely serious, it's almost scary.

“No offence, Spence, but for a supposed FBI agent that’s a dumb question to ask,” she said, pointing finger guns at him, “you don’t think I’ll give up my cover that easily? Do you?”

He points a finger gun back at her, “technically, I’m a doctor.”

The two of them narrow their eyes at each other, slowly walking in a circle, still facing each other with their make-believe guns trying to hold back smirks. She lowered her ‘weapon’ first. “It’s okay, doctor, don’t worry. I’m not a spy just an idiot with an imagination.”

He giggled softly, “I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone this fast.”

“Well, you are with criminals a lot, right? That would be alarming if you bonded with them,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his as they walked. “But I feel the same. I actually haven’t talked to someone in person in forever.”

“No?”

“I do most of my work and socializing online,” She felt embarrassed, but in today’s day and age, it wasn’t that weird. “I’m not very good outside or with people.”

“If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t think I would go outside very often either. My co-workers are my only friends, they’re more like my family actually.”

“That’s so wonderful to hear, found family is very important,” her smile disappeared as she thought about how alone she was. “Um, can I ask what it is you do at the FBI?”

“Behavioural Analysis.”

“Holy shit," she gasps, knowing way too much about that unit thanks to fucking Netflix, "that’s what the BSU became right? Do you work with the really fucked up shit?” she asked softly.

He laughed, “oh yeah, I really do.”

“Do you share a lot at NA?”

“Kinda, I tend to ramble about facts when I’m nervous so sometimes my short talk becomes more like a ted talk and what was supposed to be just me saying I haven’t relapsed on Dilaudid becomes a lesson on how the human brain works,” he explained, rambling just like he said he would.

She nodded along as he spoke, “funny, that was also my drug of choice.”

“Liquid or oral?”

“Oral. I was given it after I had my appendix out when I was 17. They get you started real young now, big pharma has its hand in everyone's pocket,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “it was rough.”

He hummed in agreement. “I was held captive by an unsub with multiple personalities. One personality drugged me till I died and the other one brought me back.”

“Spencer, Holy fuck?” she stopped and stared at him so incredibly concerned for someone who just met him. She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “I know I barely know you, but if you need someone to talk I’m literally always across the hall.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly as he looked back into her eyes. “The meeting is right there across the street, do you want a coffee first? The place beside it is amazing.”

She nodded and he took her hand, looking both ways before J-walking across the street with her to buy her a coffee and a snack. Maybe that would help her stop shaking, he looked like he worried about her and she wasn't used to that at all.

He didn’t talk at this meeting, he sat in the chair beside the group leader, she sat down across from him in the circle so she could focus. When the floor was opened up to new members, Y/N stood at the first chance she got.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” she said, to which she was welcomed by the crowd.

“I’m new to the city and looking for a new home group, not sure if I’ll stay here because I know Spencer outside of here but I really just needed to come today.”

She takes a deep breath as she thinks of how to start it, opting to just explain it and let the rant go where it may.

“I’ve never lived alone before and it’s incredibly hard to occupy my time without drugs. I still smoke weed to help me sleep at night but my addiction is with Dilaudid and then Benadryl a little after having surgery in high school. I don’t know if it’s my trauma, my disability or my Autism, maybe it’s my OCD, I really don’t know, but I just feel so useless and alone and boring and lonely, the drugs used to help but they don’t anymore and I really just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

They all looked like they understood, small smiles grew all around the circle as she took a lookout at the crowd, “Thank you for letting me get that out.”

Everyone clapped as she sat back down and wiped a tear off her cheek.

The meeting ended shortly after that, Spencer walked from his seat in the circle to where she was sitting, reaching a hand out to help her to her feet. “For the record, I think you’re funny, smart, kind and pretty. And you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”

She slapped her hand into his and stood up with purpose, “Did we just become best friends?”

“I believe we did.”

The walk home was much like the walk there. They traded facts, they flirted, they laughed, she pushed him into a pole at one point, by accident as they laughed. The two of them stopping to sit at a bus bench, laughing so hard she felt like she would pee her pants right then and there.

By the time they were back on their floor, it was well after midnight. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to meetings with you.”

“Oh, why?” he looked disappointed.

“Isn’t rule 13 that you’re not supposed to want to sleep with your group members when you’re healing?”

“Wanting to and doing it are two very different things,” he corrected her as he waited at his own door.

She smirked, “you’re right. Still don’t think I can go back with you, however.”

“I’ll probably have a case tomorrow, they normally take me out of town for at least a week, but when I get back, can I see you?” he asked lightly.

“Knock on my door when you get back,” she said before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you.”

“Bye.”

They waved from their doors before departing, excited by something that felt better than drugs.

—

120 hours later there was a light knock at her door, she knows exactly how long it’s been because she’s been counting and looking out the door at every noise for the whole time he’s been gone. Waiting for him like a wife whose husband went off to war, not knowing when their next correspondence would be.

“Coming,” she called, stopping to fluff her hair and straighten her glasses before she opened the door.

“Spencer!”

“Hi,” he said softly.

She took a moment to look him over, a little in shock at what she saw. He was in a plain t-shirt and track pants, he had not one, but two black eyes, bandages on his brow bone and scrapes all along his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“You should see the other guy,” he giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Come in, let’s sit you down.” She worried, taking him by the elbow and helping him inside.

“I’m fine, really, I’m used to this.”

“Well I’m not,” she reminded him with a nervous pout, “am I allowed to ask about it or is it classified stuff?”

He sat on the couch and patted a seat beside himself so she would join him. He rested his arm against the back of the chair so that she could slide in beside him.

“Did you hear about the child abduction in Tampa?”

“Yeah? The two boys?”

“I was trying to talk the unsub down and he dropped the gun but he grabbed me as I turned him around and punched me in the face and we fell into the ditch and I luckily managed to flip over him and get his hands behind his back and cuffed faster than I ever have before.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He laughed, “if I really was, I would have waited for backup before talking to the guy.”

“I’ve always wanted to help other people get justice but not being able to go to school makes it hard to get a job doing anything meaningful,” she whispered, ashamed of the fact she wasn’t successful like most people her age.

“Our technical analyst was hired because she was an amazing hacker, they will hire anyone who is valuable.” He shrugs and watches her face light up at the idea.

“You know what, we have meetings all this week unless there’s an emergency, if you want I can show you around the office?” he offered. “It’s not illegal for you to pass by what I’m working on and notice something I missed.”

“Spencer, I don’t even know your last name and you’re inviting me to your government job? When just last week you asked, not so jokingly, if I was a secret agent trying to kill you and that you’ve been kidnapped before?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, and what can I say?” he said shyly, “I’m trying to find excuses to see you smile all the time.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers lightly resting on his purple and yellow bruised eyes. She leaned in slowly and kissed him on the lips, so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll break or turn into a frog… he was too good to be true.

“You can see me whenever you want, Doctor Spencer Reid…”

He kissed her again, letting his hands roam her back and she trailed her free hand down his chest. She pulled back slightly to throw a leg over him carefully and sit in his lap. Holding his face in her hands now, she peppered kisses over his bruised face.

She stopped to look at him, still holding his face in her hands as his hands now rested on her hips. “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Really?”

She looks at him carefully, analyzing his response and seeing the hurt that rested deep inside of him, “I take it you’re like me?”

“What does that mean?”

“You try to not get too involved with people because no one has ever shown you true genuine interest or love, and you never think you’ll find it anyway so you push away all small acts of kindness, thinking it’s friendly because then you can’t get your hope up, just to have that person drop them?” she explained herself in a whisper.

He nodded, “you get it.”

She kissed his lips again, and then over his cheek and up to his ear, “I do.”

He looked extra sad when she pulled away, she just held his face gently as she mirrored his puppy dog eyes. Communicating with their eyes, she knew he was okay and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she smiled.

“Want to watch a movie?” She asks softly.

He nods, looking behind her to see she doesn’t have a tv in the living room. “How?”

“In my room, the TV is on my dresser if you don’t mind sitting in my bed?”

He shakes his head in a simple no, picking her up and taking her to her room. He knew where it was purely because her apartment was just his but backwards. She laughs, holding onto him tight as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He sets her down gently, watching her move up to the headboard and wait for him. They got under the blankets and she found the remote in the sheet before she cuddled into him.

“You’re really cuddly,” she complimented him as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.

“I think I’m going to end up falling in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she whispers the words, afraid of them more than his response.

“I beat you to it,” he whispers right back.

She shoots up, turning to look at him with surprise. “How?”

He looks at her like she grew two heads, “what do you mean how?”

“How did you fall in love with me? You don’t even know me?” She’s so confused, no one has ever loved her before and it’s a lot to take in.

“Y/N…” his face drops, his heart physically breaks in front of her. “I don’t know you, you're right. Not all of you, at least. I’m sure you have your hidden doors and locked cupboards but from the outside, I see you’re so beautiful, you’re radiant… your mind is lovely. You’re so kind, you’re so brave, you’re everything I wish I could be as charismatically as you are.”

She’s just swallowing over and over as she shakes her head and breathes through her nose, processing it. She’s breathing deeply then, staring off and she feels like she’s having a new kind of panic attack. A happier one, somehow?

“I don’t like myself, but if you like me I guess I must be pretty nice,” she smiles, accepting his praise and believing him. “Yeah. Thank you, Spencer.”

He smiles then, it’s cute and press-lipped and she swears he almost has dimples. His eyes are like honey and his lips are like roses. She leans in, kissing him and reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first person she’s kissed in a few years. They’re soft, peck after peck as they hold each other softly, eyes open as they watch each other experience the happiness of finding someone good, finally.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you I’m almost exactly everything you described yourself as in the meeting,” he whispers against her lips, the air touching her skin gently as she absorbs the words.

“What part? My diagnosis or my self-hatred?” She smiles, okay with either really.

“Almost both, I’m pretty hard to be around.”

She shakes her head, “I invited you in for a movie, not a pity party. You can tell me everything you hate right now and then we should just share the good parts okay? Brag about yourself. Tell me what you’re proud of.”

She was really serious, keeping a stern look on her face as she spoke. He nodded, “I’m anxious all the time, I’m always worried because I’ve never had anyone to worry about me. I don’t know how to be a real person really, all I do is drink coffee and solve crimes and I barely sleep. And the only time I was relaxed and okay is when I was on drugs.”

She nodded, “it fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Like why did we get stuck like this, I don't care about peaking in high school but didn’t we deserve some kind of love and support? I’ve never understood if souls and shit are real, why did mine pick this terrible meat suit and awful traumatic path?”

She’s crying because she’s angry and because she’s never said it to anyone before. He cries because she understands. She truly knows.

“I love you,” he announces. “Just because of that.”

Taglist: @blanchardsbk @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years ago

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I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

#my writing #moreid #derek #spencer #derek morgan #criminal minds #spencer reid #moreid fic #moreid fanfic #moreid fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer reid x derek morgan #userpenemily

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gubler-me-up · 4 years ago

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Lost in Translation

Request(s): Hey :) Can i make a Spencer request? Something like that episode in Mexico, with a bilingual reader please <3 Like a trip and he realizes that the reader can speak Spanish, he's kinda mesmerized and she helps the team to get more information about the unsub

hey beautiful :) could u write something (literally anything) where the reader speaks another language or like they have an australian accent or smthg and they have to like translate for the team and spencer just thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world and then the reader gets real worked up and starts yelling in the other language and spencer is just like skdkdmend,,,,u don’t have to if u don’t wanna but like i love u sm ur amazing

A/N: Thanks for the first request @cryingforwill and shout out to the anon who sent the second request! Can y’all believe this is my last fic of 2020? Being posted early? New year, new me (maybe)! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting my work for the last four months of 2020 you literally ROCK 🗣 btw I am by no means bilingual (maybe a lil French but that’s it) so all the Spanish being spoken in this fic is straight from Google Translate so pls forgive me if it doesn’t translate properly and if you’re like me and don’t know Spanish pls have Google Translate on deck while reading

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: Swearing, semi-nudity, mentions of violence

Word count: 2k

————-

It was rare that the team travelled abroad for a case but when an unsub was on the run to Mexico they had no choice to follow their tracks. The team landed in Mexico within a day of finding out the unsub had fled. They didn’t waste time scoping out places the unsub could possibly be according to eyewitness reports.

Unfortunately for Spencer he got stuck with surveilling at the beach with Morgan in the hot sun. They made sure to dress for the part by wearing swim trunks and sunglasses. Well, that’s what Morgan was wearing. Spencer opted to wear a white t-shirt, brown khaki pants and a pair of black converse.

Morgan had begged him to change into something else so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Spencer insisted that if he just stayed on the outskirts of the beach he would look like a tourist sightseeing. The explanation earned him an eye roll and look of disappointment from Morgan.

No matter the amount of disappointment Morgan felt, the surveillance plan went as planned. Morgan went on the beach to blend in with locals and tourists so he could ask people if they had seen the unsub as well as scoping the area for him. Spencer stayed just at the border of the beach surveilling the area. Whenever someone would pass by he would ask them if they had seen the unsub.

From a handful of people ignoring him to them just giving him a weird look, he felt as if he actually did look a bit weird in his attire. He sighed and decided it might be best if he did some surveillance from the car with his pair of binoculars. Before he could turn around to leave, a volleyball hit his feet.

He looked down and picked it up. He had no idea why he picked it up considering he didn’t know who to give it to. Even if he did he wouldn’t embarrass himself trying to hit it back to the person it belonged to. Volleyball was apart of his long list of sports he wasn’t good at.

“Hey, sorry, that’s mine.”

He looked in the direction of where the voice was yelling. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw a gorgeous woman running towards him. He tried to be respectful and not stare for too long considering she was wearing a bikini. He didn’t want her to think he was a creep or even worse, the unsub.

She smiled as she made her way right in front of him. She held out her hands for him to give her back the ball. He looked down at her hands and then at his. He silently went “oh” as he realized he still had the ball in his hand.

“Sorry,” he said as he handed her the ball.

She looked him up and down with a questionable look. She looked back at his face. Spencer for sure thought she was going to treat him like the rest and pretend he just wasn’t there. To his surprise she smiled at him.

“¿Eres de eta zona?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, no lo soy.”

She giggled. “Por la forma en que mataste tu sentencia, puedo decir que eres de los Estados Unidos.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Supongo que eras de la zona.”

She nodded her head. She reached into her bikini top. He watched carefully to see what she was about to pull out. He then realized there’s no way she could be hiding a weapon in her bikini top so he strayed his eyes away from her breast.

She saw how flustered he had become and laughed at how his pale face turned red. She pulled out her I.D. card to show him who she was. He looked at her surprised when he read her identification.

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m originally from America myself but I opted to work for the Policía Federal after serving my time as a special agent at the FBI California headquarters. I’m here to be of assistance to you and your team, agent,” she said.

“How did you know I was-”

“My team was informed by your unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, that an unsub had crossed over to our borders, so we know everyone on your team. Also, no one dresses like that unless they’re undercover.”

Spencer looked down at his attire. He guessed Morgan had a valid point of him sticking out. She laughed and grabbed his hand to escort him onto the beach. He hesitantly held back.

“I hate sand in my shoes,” he complained.

“Well, you should have worn sandals. Aren’t you the genius of the group? Dr. Spencer Reid? How come you didn’t think of that?” She questioned as she yanked him onto the beach.

Spencer trailed behind her unwillingly. He could already feel the sand seeping into his shoes already. He would have been more upset but he was entering the beach for some reason Y/N hadn’t explained to him yet. Since she was on their side, there wasn’t a direct reason not to trust her.

“I wasn’t going to go onto the beach. My partner, Derek Morgan, is surveilling the beach,” he explained.

“The beach is the best part to surveil though. Seems to me you got the short end of the stick,” she said.

“It’s the stick I chose and I’m fine with it,” he said.

She giggled. “Tonto, tonto chico.”

“Uh, gracias?”

She led him over to an area where there was a blue beach towel set up with a cloth bag on it. She let his hand go and kneeled on the towel. He looked at her strangely as he watched her ruffling through her bag. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.

“Can you apply sunscreen to my back please?” She asked.

“I-I don’t know if-”

“Do you want to blend in or not, khaki pants?”

He looked down at his pants before looking back at her. She reached the bottle out to him and he didn’t feel as if he had a better option so he took it from her. She smiled as she scooted down to make some room for him to kneel behind her.

He went behind her and kneeled. He opened it up and squeezed a good amount on his hands. He rubbed his hands together before he started applying it to her lower back. He had to admit her skin was the softest thing he had ever touched.

“Crees que puedes seguirme si hablo español durante esta conversación?” She asked

“Intentaré,” he said.

“Excelente. Tengo un hueso personal que elegir con su sospechoso,” she said.

“Que hizo…Wait, what are you doing?” He asked.

Y/N reached one hand to the back of her bikini top and untied it. She held the front of it with her free hand so her breasts wouldn’t spill out, flustering Spencer anymore than he already was. She looked back at him with a smile as she saw him turn red again.

“You need to get the whole of my back,” she said.

“Uh…I guess?” He said.

“You sound unsure. Wait until you have to do the front,” she said.

“I what?” He choked.

“I’m kidding. We’ll save that possibility for another time,” she said with a wink before turning her head.

Spencer’s mouth was gaped open but he couldn’t find the words to say back to her. He honestly didn’t know what would be the appropriate way to respond to her. If Morgan was there he probably would have been even more disappointed by the way he was acting around Y/N.

“Your unsub, Eric Brown, almost killed my partner,” she said.

“I heard,” Spencer softly said.

“Ese hijo de puta nos sorprendió. Le disparó a mi compañero en el cuello y si no estuviera allí para evitar que se desangrara, habría estado muerto,” she said, gradually becoming louder in her tone.

“Lamento que tu y tu pareja hayan sido víctimas de él,” he said.

“¿Ser víctima de él? Si vuelvo a ver a ese hijo de puta voy a hacer que me caiga víctima,” she yelled.

He let her have her little moment because he knew how upsetting being in that type of situation could be. Even though he was upset for her, he couldn’t help think her yelling was tantalizing. It didn’t help he was enjoying rubbing her back with sunscreen and feeling her soft skin over and over again.

“Estamos aquí para ayudar en todo lo que podamos. Queremos hacer justicia a su pareja y a las otras víctimas de Brown,” Spencer said.

She turned around to look at him with a smile. He smiled back at her as he took his hands off of her. She looked down at the string that dangled at her side and then looked back at him. He didn’t need her to say anything and grabbed both strings on both sides of her to tie it around her back.

“Eres muy dulce, Spencer. Le devolveré el favor diciéndole esto: escuché de un informante hoy que Brown intentará esconderse en un carro de cargamento de drogas que se dirige a Cuba,” she said.

“Really?” He asked in shock.

“Sí. The shipment leaves in six hours, but the dock isn’t too far from here. If my hunch is right, he isn’t staying too far from the dock,” she said.

“Reid.”

They both looked up to see Morgan walking their way. Spencer immediately got up and dusted the sand off his pants. Y/N also got up and picked up all of her belongings off of the ground.

“Morgan, I-uh…I know what this might seem like but I was-um.”

“Hi, my name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m with the Policía Federal. I was informing agent Reid about Brown’s possible whereabouts,” she said.

“Yeah, apparently, he’s going to get on a drug shipment to Cuba in six hours,” Spencer whispered.

“He’s most likely hiding out somewhere north of Cancun,” she said.

“Great. Thanks for the information. Are your units scouting the area out?” Morgan asked.

She nodded. “Yes, but we’re not trying to penetrate the area directly. We have no idea what kind of people Brown has paired up with and he’s already attacked one of our own before, so we’re treading lightly.”

“Fair. I guess we’ll meet in six hours to catch him,” Morgan said as he reached out his hand.

Y/N grabbed it and shook it. “We definitely will, agent.”

As she let go of his hand, she looked over at Spencer. She smiled and reached out her hand. She noticed his hesitation to grab it, so she did him the favour and latched into his hand. She pulled him in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Gracias por aplicarme protector solar en la espalda. Tal vez después de atrapar a este hijo de puta, podamos ser más íntimos,” she said into his ear.

She pulled away from him and saw that confused yet intrigued look on his face again. She laughed before waving them both goodbye. They both watched as she walked off from their sight into the overcrowded beach.

Morgan flopped his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. Spencer looked at Morgan to see a grin spanning from ear to ear. He sighed as he already knew what Morgan was going to say.

“So you spent the time you were supposed to be surveilling rubbing on a hottie’s back?” Morgan asked

“How about we don’t talk about it?” Spencer said as he shrugged off Morgan’s arm and started to walk away.

“You can’t keep your secret move from me,” Morgan said as he walked behind him.

“What secret move?” Spencer asked.

“The “standing there out of place but yet attract all the ladies to me” move,” Morgan said.

Spencer smirked. “I would teach you if I knew why it happened.”

Morgan chuckled. “You know what, I think I’m more content with you finally not knowing an answer for something than I am with you getting a potential date.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @bluerose512 @laneybobeczko-g @averyhotchner @littlewierdalien @cynbx @mggsprettygirl @jessalyn-jpeg

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eunoiaflow3r · 5 years ago

Text

Agree to No Promises

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, thank you for requesting!

Warnings: mistakes, angst, fluff, mentions of kidnapping (nothing gory), and language. fem!reader.

Word Count: 4.5k

Requests:

i have a spence request!! you know that one scene where he says “this is calm, and it’s doctor”. i want a whole fic of that kind of aggressive spence in which he defends the readers honour to the rest of the BAU people, maybe she makes a call that’s risky for her own safety and the others are calling her out on it and spence gets defensive and morgan is like “calm down kid” or it can be whoever and THEN HE SAYS THAT LINE I WOULD DIE ❤️❤️

actually, some enemies to lovers with spencer would be great if they work at the bau together and for years they don’t get along and bicker and the reader knows she’s in love with spencer but doesn’t have a chance and he finds out while they’re arguing

~~~~~

You wanted to punch Spencer in the face. You wanted to shut him up, and you felt in that moment - punching him would be the perfect way to do so. But no. Your brain was not listening to what you wanted, and instead what your heart wanted, but you could not afford that right now.

When you think of Spencer Reid, you think tall, skinny, uncoordinated, annoying, rude and cocky. You can’t stand the way he looks at you, or the way his hair falls over his eyes, and even the fact that a grown-ass man never wears matching socks. You also don’t like the fact that he always seems to be right, even when you wish he wasn’t.

According to Spencer, you were no walk in the park either. He hates that you’re so dramatic, and that you’re so hell-bent on proving yourself right. He hates that you never listen to anything he tells you, and how you act like nothing can ever get to you no matter what it is.

When Spencer thinks of you, he thinks she’s self-righteous, and that you have this stupid hero complex that you need to get over.

“L/N.”

“Reid.” You greeted with just as much hostility.

Even on the plane, you both seemed to successfully make eachother mad. The team always noticed the rigidness between you two, and had even asked about the elephant in the room multiple times, but the only thing you two had seemed to come up with to explain your behavior - which you both had ironically subconsciously agreed on, was that, “It’s not my fault he/she is impossible.”

On countless random occasions, the team had tried to help fix whatever bad blood was spilled between you, but you two never caved in and instead insisted on the fact that, “nothing could be done,” to fix the unyielding tension if the other wasn’t going to change.

After they went over the ins and outs and asked the necessary questions of the case like usual, Hotch began to put the team into pairs to send them on their individual assignments.

“Prentiss, Morgan, I need you to go to the morgue and see if there’s anything significant other than the ligature marks.”

They nodded.

“JJ, Rossi, I need you to go visit the victim’s families and see if there’s anything you can find that ties these murders together. Like we said, probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”

“Of course.” JJ answers.

“Y/N, and Reid I need you two to go to the most recent scene and tell us what you find there. I’ll meet you there after I check in with the locals.”

Both you and Spencer looked absolutely offended, and you both collectively tried to come up with any reason in the books so that you would not be paired together.

“But surely-” you tried to reason.

“No.” Hotch interrupted.

“But I should -” Reid began to bargain.

Hotch interrupted once again with a cold stare, and an even colder if not snarky, “No.”

Yours and Spencer’s eyes met for a brief moment before you both decided to give up defeatedly, and roll your eyes at one another.

The team had noticed the interaction between the two of you once more and they couldn’t decide if they wanted to laugh at your childish actions, or if they wanted to shake their heads in annoyance and say something about your behavior.

They chose the latter and ignored the both of you.

Once you had landed, and before the team all went their separate ways, Hotch told both you and Spencer to behave.

“No promises.” you replied opening the driver door to the black SUV that awaited the both of you to ride in.

Hotch gave you a harsh glare.

“I’m joking Hotch.” you smile. “It’s a joke.”

Nodding, he walks away and gets into a car of his own with the local police department. Spencer gets in the passenger seat and immediately if not frantically, puts on his seatbelt.

You chose to ignore his actions, turned on the ignition, and drove out of the parking lot.

“Uhm, are you sure you should be driving?” Spencer asks eyebrows furrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean since -”

“You misogynistic prick!” you practically shout, now pissed.

“You’re wrist.” Spencer nods towards your hand. “You were complaining earlier about how it was cramped and all.”

“What do you care?”

“Well, ya’know. I wouldn’t want it going out, and I don’t know, kill the both of us because you weren’t careful.”

“You’re a jerk Spencer Reid.” you shake your head not taking your eyes off the road. “You ever shut up?”

“I could ask the same Y/N L/N.”

Your relationship with Spencer has been this way since the day you arrived.

“Everyone, meet agent L/N.” Hotch introduces you. “Y/N, meet Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid.”

You waved at everyone and said a quick “hello,” before sitting in the empty seat right across from Spencer Reid.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had done a little back up check on you before you had even arrived. Your record was crystal clear, you had done nothing wrong, your parents were alive and well, and it seemed as though you had been through nothing traumatic and this shocked Spencer.

No one’s record was this clear, which meant you were hiding something. Because of this, he could not trust you.

Instead of asking you himself, he decided to just ignore you and act rude until he got the answers he wanted. Perhaps this was you’d feel the need to tell the truth - whatever that was.

“I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?” You had asked once.

You had barely been at the Bureau a day and already you had seemingly made an enemy, which sucked because from what you’ve heard Spencer was the sweetest one there, and by the looks of it, definitely the cutest.

“No, you did nothing.”

“Okay.”

You don’t remember what he was talking about, but Spencer was ranting and that was one of your favorite things about him - just the way he could talk on and on and on about anything.

His voice itself made you want to swoon, but everytime he spoke to you, he always seemed disinterested, and you hated that

You got on Spencer’s last nerve. How did you seem so perfect? You were beautiful inside and out, and he didn’t understand it. There were days where he literally just wanted to talk to you to hear your voice, and he wanted to just ramble on and on and on to you about everything, but everytime he stopped himself.

He reminded himself that you were suspicious, and besides - with your beauty, who knew how many men you’ve been with.

He didn’t feel like getting his heart broken anytime soon.

You gave him a couple of weeks - a month and a half - to warm up to you, and still nothing.

His attitude had got nothing but worse towards you, which was confusing because when you saw him interact with anyone else, he was an absolute sweetheart.

“Why do you treat me this way?”

He ignored you.

“Fine.” You had grown impatient. “Don’t say I never tried Spencer.”

And you walked away.

You were no longer going to take the way he gave you the cold shoulder and the way he talked to you, so from that day forward you had done to him the same way he had done to you.

You gave him the cold shoulder, and acted annoyed whenever he spoke to you.

This had become routine for the both of you. So much of a routine, that you both had forgotten why you hated each other in the first place.

After awhile, all Spencer knew was that he couldn’t get your condescending voice out of his head, and even when he told himself that you weren’t, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Everyday was a struggle to get eachother out of your heads. It seemed as though no one but that small voice in your heads knew you were secretly pining for each other, and that “hatred,” was covering up something much, much bigger, but there’s doubt you’ll be uncovering anything any time soon.

There were nights where you laid in bed just thinking about him, and times you cried yourself to sleep because at some point you realized you were in love with him, but you knew he would never ever feel the same, and that’s what hurt you the most.

“Excellent work guys.” Hotch compliments. “We’ll pick this up in the morning.”

The team had come together, and gathered a significant amount of information about the unsub, but it was late, and everyone needed a good night’s sleep for fresh minds the next day.

Unfortunately, roommates were the team members you were paired with earlier that day, so you were stuck sharing a room with Reid.

You huffed and through your bag on the bed. The last person you wanted to share a room with was Spencer Reid. At least you didn’t have to share a bed.

Putting a fake smile on your face, you turned to him and asked, “So are you taking a shower first or am I?”

“I’ll take mine in the morning.” he answered shortly, seemingly unbothered.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.” you replied, kind of hurt.

A hot shower should do it for you. You brought your bag into the shower, and got ready to relax under the steaming water. You rubbed your hands across your face because honestly - you were stressed. Arguing with Spencer on a daily basis was just…tiring. Sometimes you wished you knew why he hated you so much, but you knew the man wouldn’t ever tell you.

You opened your eyes, and you looked around the shower for your shampoo, but on the wall right above it was a spider.

“Shit!! Oh my God!!” You jumped out of the shower as quickly as you could, wrapped a towel around your body, and just about flew out of the bathroom.

Spencer looked up hurriedly and jumped out of his seat, in fear that you were hurt.

“What the hell? Are you okay?”

“No!” you huffed. “There’s a spider in the shower!”

His face was now a serious Hotch-like face. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes!”

Spencer walked into the bathroom and checked for the spider. He was now just as confused as ever.

“This is just a wolf spider,” he sighed, bringing it into the room in a cup with a napkin covering it. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“What the fuck Spencer, what are you DOING?”

He looked at you, and then the towel around you and his nostrils flared. You were practically naked - as the only thing between the two of you was a flimsy hotel towel. He had to get out of there, so instead of answering you, he left the room and went to go free the arachnid.

Once he was outside, and had freed the spider, he took a few breaths. He was frustrated. Absolutely frustrated, and he wasn’t sure what to do. All he saw now was that towel wrapped around your wet body and he hated the way his stomach clenched everytime he thought about that stupid towel and how easily it could have fallen and how he would have been able to -

No. He must not think this way about you. Not only was it incredibly inappropriate considering you were his coworker, but he had to keep up his, “I can’t stand her,” persona.

When he got back to the room, you were, he assumed, finished showering, and you were sitting on your bed in a pair of shorts and a tight fitted tank top leaving little to nothing of your figure to the imagination.

Of course, he was now incredibly irritated because you were real, and this wasn’t just one of his many dreams starring you where you two were using your mouths for a little something other than argue.

You had watched Spencer go into the bathroom, and you audibly let out a breath. He had said nothing to you, yet the way he looked at you made your heart and lower stomach go into a fucking frenzy.

When he got out, he was dressed in just a regular t-shirt and basketball shorts. You practically swooned. You had never seen him in anything other than his usual work attire, and you regrettably loved this look on him.

You shouldn’t have been thinking this way about him.

He hated you. How could anything ever happen if he was furious with you for every little thing you did?

“You know what I don’t understand?” Spencer asked climbing into his bed and turning the light off on his side.

“What?”

You did the same so now you both were laying in the darkness.

“How do you face serial killers almost every single day, and you’re afraid of spiders?”

“Same way you’re afraid of elevator crashes I suppose.”

“But death by spiders are extremely rare - that spider was harmless.”

“I’m not afraid of getting killed by a spider, they’re just hideous.”

He laughed and said, “Yeah, well I’m sure they find you hideous as well.”

You both went to sleep with giddy smiles on your faces.

The next day went by pretty smoothly, and ever since the night in the hotel, Spencer had seemed a little less hostile towards you. You couldn’t help but wonder why. What changed?

Anyway, just like the day before, you were paired with Spencer, mostly indoors working on the board. Collectively you two had noticed some pretty interesting details, and you both realized you worked well together.

Soon after you gave a profile to the locals, Hotch told you and Spencer to follow a lead to a suspect’s home. You had knocked on the door, and nothing. You checked the front yard, backyard, and nothing.

It wasn’t until you checked inside a kids’ clubhouse, that you had found a secret trap door hidden underneath.

“Reid, call the team.”

He did, and once he was sure they were on their way, he helped you move the playhouse over so that you could open the door.

Once he opened it, all you two heard were sobs and the unsub yelling. You went down even after Spencer told you not to, and you saw the girl tied to a chair with a gun pointed to her head.

When the unsub saw you, a guy named Fred you believe, he changed directions, and held the gun out in front of him straight at your head.

“Fred? Hey. I’m Y/N L/N and I’ve come to help.”

“H-h-h-help? H-h-h-how can can y-you he-he-help?”

On your way over to this house, Garcia called and told you and Spencer that Fred had autism and, because of this he was like a child, he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Well Freddie,” you paused and looked him in his eyes, “May I call you Freddie?”

He nods quickly.

“Well the FBI is out there,” you heard the sirens a moment earlier, “and they’re upset that you took this girl. They might hurt you.”

“But I-I-I-I like h-h-her.”

You heard someone try to come down, and you yelled, “No!” which made all noises stop. “Do not come down here!”

Fred was scared, and confused, and he didn’t know what to do. All you could see was that the girl continued to cry, and he held his gin tighter.

You put up your hands dropping your gun, and this made him trust you a little bit more.

“Do you like me, Freddie?”

He nods enthusiastically.

“So, how about you let this girl go, and take me instead?”

“L-let her go?”

“Yes, Freddie, let her go and you can have me.” You were trying not to shake. “Can I untie her?”

“Yes.” he says and follows your movements with his gun. You walk slowly over to the girl, and untie her quickly. “When you go up there, tell them not to shoot. Tell them that the man is more unstable than we thought, okay?” She nods tears streaming down her face, and runs towards the latter.

Spencer was freaking out. He was pacing, and his heart was racing, and everytime he sat down his legs wouldn’t stop moving, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had cried, almost pulled out his hair, crumpled up papers in frustration and had yelled at almost every single one of his team members.

How could he have let this happen to you? He should have gone instead of you. He should have gone with you, he should have stopped you or something.

And on top of this, he always been an absolute prick to you, when deep down he felt the opposite and all he wanted to do was kiss you and tell you how he felt but now you were gone and he didn’t know if he was getting you back, and all he did know was that his heart hurt and all he wanted to do was just see you.

Just see you.

You had woken up tied to a chair in a child’s bedroom.

You tried to untie or loosen the ropes, but it was no use - they were way too tight.

Fred came into the room with a tray of food for you, and he looked at you almost sadly.

“Freddie, you know they’re looking for you, right?

“I-I-I know.”

“So what’s going to happen when they do find you? You’ll kill me?”

He gasped and covered his mouth. “I could never hurt you!”

“But you hurt those other girls, Freddie.”

“Th-th-those g-girls hurt me. You’re r-re-really n-nice to me. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

You tried to smile, but all that came out was tears. You were scared to death and you had no idea what made you make the decisions you made.

“Oh, no Y/N p-please do-don’t cry.”

“Freddie these ropes really hurt, can you take them off?”

“But you’ll leave m-me.”

“Freddie, I won’t leave you, I promise okay?

They had a location. They knew where you were. Spencer couldn’t have been happier.

Soon enough the team had found the house, and quietly came into the house. Morgan saw you first, relieved you were okay, and you silently told him that Fred was upstairs. He nodded and let the officers up there to make the arrest. You ran outside tears running down your face, and as soon as Spencer sees you, he runs up to you hugging you tightly. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into his shoulder.

“Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt?” He says checking you as he pushes you away from him checking for any scratch or scar or anything.

“No, I’m - I’m alright.”

“Good.” he says, getting serious now. “Then explain to me why you would do something so incredibly stupid? We were all worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?”

He shakes his head and tries not to show how angry he was with you for leaving him. Instead of answering, he walks away.

He walks away because if he stayed, he would have kissed you, and he can’t -

He just can’t.

If he shows you that he cares, you just might hurt him and sometimes it’s easier to just shut you out, than get used to you being around and then leave him. He doesn’t want you to know how much you could hurt him if he let you in.

So he pushes you away.

After everyone greeted you, and asked if you were okay, and the doctors checked you out, you were all on the plane home.

You kind of just distanced yourself from everyone because all the team seemed to do was patronize you.

“That was a huge risk Y/N, did you even think about what you were doing?” Emily asked.

“Honestly, what if it didn’t work L/N? What about the girl?” Morgan said, shaking his head.

“You could have gotten severely injured Y/N, we’re just trying to look out for you.” JJ tried to reassure you.

Everytime you tried to explain yourself, you were bombarded with another stupid question, which caused silent tears to fall down you face. Spencer saw this, and he decided he had had enough with everyone.

“You guys act like you had never made a decision like this in your entire career. At the end of the day, everyone made it out alright, and I’m sure Y/N has learned her lesson, but you guys humiliating her doesn’t help at all. Think about what she’s just been through. Just for a second can you think about how she’s feeling right now?” He sighed. “This is the first time Y/N has dones something like this and you all are giving her the third degree. So just stop.”

“Hey, calm down Reid, It’s not that we -”

“This is calm Morgan, and it’s doctor.”

With that being said Spencer moved to the back of the plane, and sat across from you. You both said nothing, but you silently thanked him.

Once you were back at the BAU, Hotch told him he wanted you to take some time off, and you understood. The team left avoiding both you and Spencer, mostly because of what he said on the plane, and they weren’t sure what to do now.

“Reid, can I talk to you?” He was packing up to go home, you two were the only ones left on this floor.

“Yes?”

“Why did you do that - on the plane I mean. Why would you stick up for me?”

He shrugged, basically ignoring you. Just right where you thought you were getting through to him, he closes himself back up again, and goes back to being mean to you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please don’t do that again. I don’t need your help.”

You were walking away, when he decided to argue back.

“Oh you don’t? So you'd just would have wanted them to keep patronizing you? Honestly, I don’t see what your problem is Y/N, goodnight.”

And he was walking towards the door. You ran out in front of him blocking him from leaving.

“My problem?” You scoff. “Oh I’ll tell you what my problem is. I don’t need your saving. I don’t need you to come in like a knight on his steed and prove that you’re smarter than me every single time. Because yes, you’re smarter, and yes, you’re a doctor, and yes, I know you dislike me for some reason, but don’t go switching up your attitude if something happens to me. Just leave me alone.

Obviously you don’t know what it feels like to be me, otherwise you would know that the worst pain there is, is being in love with someone who just hates you. So, just stop. Please, just stop.”

And once you said what you needed to, you walked off gathering your things so that you could go home too. You felt like crying, but you couldn’t. Not here. You couldn’t believe you just said what you did.

Despite what he wanted, he stood frozen in place. He was conflicted. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was telling him to do one thing, while his heart told him to do another.

He took quick strides over to your desk, and turned your body gently so that you were facing him, and you were basically trapped between him and your desk behind you.

“I couldn’t save you.” He began. “I was with you, and then I wasn’t and I couldn’t help you. You were doing that stupid heroic shit you tend to do, and I wasn’t there to help you. You were hurting, and it hurt me that I wasn’t there to heal you. And believe me, it keeps me awake at night when I think about the way I treat you, and I’m sorry, I am. I’m sorry if you felt like I hated you, because believe me, I don’t.

There is nothing to hate about you other than the fact that you’re just so goddamn perfect and I know I could never have you, and even if I did, I would give all of me to you, and that scares me. It scares me that I would be so willing to hand my heart over to you, and it scares me that you have all this power over me. It hurts that you have the power to torture me, so yes, I push you away, and I’m sorry I care about you, but I just, I just-”

And this was that moment.

That moment where your head told you to punch him, because God knows you wanted to, but your heart told you to just swallow all of that angst and just give yourself to him.

To tell him with your lips that you felt the same, and just leave all the arguing behind.

But something was -

You didn’t hate him. And he just confessed that he didn’t hate you, and now his face was under your fingertips, and your lips were on his. Tears were falling, you weren’t sure if they were yours or his, but he was kissing you back and his arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt like you were on fire. Your hands were now tangled in his hair, and his hands caressed your sides. He had brought you closer to him, and through this kiss you both felt all the so-called, “hatred,” and, “dislike,” evaporate into thin air.

He pulled away from you, and you wiped away his tears.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you didn’t deserve what I did to you. None of it. If I could take it all back, I would. I’ll make it up to you, I promise I will.”

“You’re such a boy Spencer Reid.” You say.

“What?” He’s confused.

“Mother’s tell their little girls that when boys are mean to them, that they must like them, and that’s why they’re acting that way.”

“Well that’s not very healthy. That tells those little girls that when a man hits them, or is crude towards them, that that’s perfectly normal and that they should just take it because the man loves them.”

“Well true,” Spencer was still holding you, and you went on “but the point was that you must have really liked me since you were so mean to me.”

“I mean, sure. But I don’t see why a mother would -”

“Hey, agree to disagree, okay?”

A month or so passed, and the team noticed a huge shift. You and Spencer were no longer arguing constantly, well, of course there were disagreements and such, but you two didn’t act like you hated each other.

“Promise me you’ll stop trying to be the hero.” Spencer told you once.

“No promises.”

Because if you weren’t the hero, you wouldn’t have saved the girl, wouldn’t have gotten Fred help, wouldn’t have the arrogant prince turned good, and you wouldn’t have agreed to disagree.

~~~~~~

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usermoreid · 3 years ago

Note

what would the unsub maeve story line be like? talk about it!

god im so happy you asked me this. it got so long so it's under a cut but im akfhdh i love unsub maeve arc

okay so she reaches out to spencer because she's been looking for a way to get to the team for a while now, and spencer posting to forums about his migraines was the perfect opportunity. she starts slow - introduces herself as a geneticist, asks to see the brain scans. spencer's so desperate for help he doesn't even ask for credentials, he just sends them to her. what's the worst that can happen, right??

she says she has some ideas, but she needs to talk to him; she needs to get a feel for what sort of lifestyle he's living so that she can figure out the best way to work with it. spencer's immediately overjoyed - someone has an idea of how to help him?? wonderful!! exactly what he needed!! so they start writing letters. she asks about any trauma he's been through in the past. he thinks it's to see if there could be any psychological or physical underlying issues. it's actually so that she can use it against him if need be.

talking about these things just feels so good to him - he's never been able to be so open with someone. but it's for medical purposes, he reasons, meaning that it's not like he's actually talking about it. and then they start talking on the phone. she suggests some vitamins - things she knows won't actually help him with his migraines but also won't hurt. during these phone calls, he pretty much starts using her as a therapist of sorts. and then he learns that she really is incredibly smart and wow she's so funny and oh my god she let's him ramble on and on to his heart's content and oh she's literally perfect.

his headaches become a little less severe. he pins it on the vitamins and the changes in diet and the exercises that she has him doing. he's not necessarily wrong, it is making him healthier. but it's actually due to the decrease in stress. he's not bottling up his emotions anymore. it took a little bit of time but he reaches a point where if he has a difficult case, he picks up the phone and calls maeve, whose credentials he still never asked for because why would he ask for proof when he's literally evidence of her capability himself??

this goes on for a while. spencer partially does actually develop feelings for her, but he mostly just starts associating the lack of pain with her, along with the relief that comes with it. he doesn't realise. she does. it's going exactly to plan.

she tells him about her stalker; says that he's the reason they can't meet; says that it's far too dangerous to get spencer's team involved because i don't want to hurt you and spencer believes it all. why wouldn't he?? he certainly has no reason to believe that they actually can't meet because her plan isn't ready yet, or that the team can't get involved because they'll see beyond the veil that spencer's insecurities have casted and immediately spot the red flags. no, she has no reason to lie to him, why would he ever doubt her?? he loves her, she helps him. and she loves him too, she said so herself. she wouldn't lie to him.

and then one day she gets kidnapped. there's a voice saying zugzwang and she can't answer the phone and oh my god he's going to have to tell the team. so he does. he musters up all the courage he doesn't have and stumbles marches his way into hotch's office, trying to project an air of confidence that's greatly diminished by the overwhelming anxiety coming off of him in waves and he tells his boss everything, from their first meeting to their last conversation.

hotch is skeptical, spencer can tell, but they go through with it anyway. they treat it like a regular case. they think it's the ex-fiance and oh god why didn't she say she was engaged and then they think it's the guy's new girlfriend and they've found where they are, they've figured it out let's go get her!!

and when he gets there he's told to blindfold himself and he does and then he's strapped to a chair and he needs to see her and he finally does and—

i told you we were going to make blindfolds fun again, he hears.

she's standing alone. two bodies in the back - bobby and diane. she had to kill them. bobby was going to expose who she really is and why she really had to disappear from her academic circles and maeve couldn't have people finding out that she was forced to leave after stalking someone to the point of almost getting a restraining order, not after she fought so hard to keep it quiet. and diane - ugh, diane - who stole her boyfriend and wore her clothes without even knowing they were hers. they both had to go.

he stares in shock. he doesn't understand. he came here to save her why is she free why is she stood in front of two dead bodies why is he strapped down to a chair what's happening??

she tells him. she tells him that the bau ruined her life. she tells him that they killed her parents - her real parents, the ones that weren't related to her by blood but through love, the ones who took her in when she was a child who ran away from home. they were serial killers, sure, but they loved her and she loved them. but then the bau came along and ruined their big finale. they didn't get the chance to blow up the people they were meant to, so they blew themselves up. suicide, it technically was. maeve calls it murder. the bau murdered them.

she takes spencer's gun from his hip and fires a shot into the wall, knowing that the team would come running. spencer can't tell them not to, they wouldn't hear him in time. they pile in, seeing maeve holding a detonator in one hand and the gun in the other and they realise, only moments after spencer, that she's rigged the place to blow.

she makes them all put their weapons down and throw them over, as she holds the gun to spencer's head. once the weapons have been dealt with, she throws the one she's holding over with the others and waves the detonator higher, making sure everyone can see it. she tells them that her cells have been dying ever since she returned to her birth parents, never having told them where she was for months and they didn't care enough to ask, because that was the moment she decided she was going to kill herself. she said it happened to her parents too - spontaneous cell death, she called it.

then derek lunges forward. it has such a small chance of working, but it's either this or they all blow up. either way, there's a strong chance they won't make it out. may as well give anything a shot.

he gets the detonator out of her hand by some miraculous luck but before anybody has time to celebrate, she grabs a gun out of the pile and points it to her own head whilst derek's is next to it. if the bullet gets shot, it would kill them both.

it doesn't get shot. spencer's gun does. the one he hides in his ankle holster. the one he grabbed as hotch untied him during the chaos. the one he never told her about because it was such a subconscious act that he never even thought to mention it. he's grateful that he didn't, but not until later. no, right then he doesn't feel anything as his bullet rips through the skull of the woman he loves. or as the gun clatters noisily yet silently to the floor. or as his knees give in and he falls down, staring at the blood pooling from the face he'd never seen in person. she was as beautiful as he had thought. the most beautiful girl in the world. and he had killed her.

#this got SO long #but jesus christ i love it so much i really love unsub maeve #finn answers #taiposting #tw suicide #unsub maeve

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fangirlings-things · 4 years ago

Text

Goodbye [2/2]

➤ PART. 1

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of death

A/N: just a lot of angst (again)!!! thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback and the notes, the messages, everything was amazing so thank you so much, you guys have no idea how much it means to me to see you enjoy my writing!! I hope you guys like this final piece, as usual, let me know your thoughts 💖

GIF IS NOT MINE || TAG LIST CRIMINAL MINDS: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee || GOODBYE TAG LIST: @amordesiempre01 ; @hiiwouldlikesomesleepplease ; @clairedragonessbaker ; @crazyshannonigans ; @ohhersheybars ; @messyhairday-me ; @joyofbebbanburg ; @horriblyquirkyasthmatic ; @basssalvatore2 ; @mac99martin ; @auds24 ; @captainhyenafan ; @uwu-sebastianstan ; @xoprincessmel ; @detective-time-lady ; @haylaansmi ; @tclaerh ; @spencie-reid1864 ; @dreamy-moments

In. Out. In. Out.

Hotch had been trying to control his breathing by thinking about those words. Over and over again, non-stopping. The air seemed tinier, yet heavier. Too dense. Sitting at the passenger seat of an SUV, he looked out through the window to the fields that seemed to be passing by. Rossi was driving too fast, but Hotch wanted him to slow down. He did not want to get to their destiny. Had no intention of doing so.

The countryside of Oklahoma City was illuminated by the sunlight of the middle of the afternoon. Farm houses could be seen here and there, with people walking around, doing their jobs. Animals ate and walked around their owners lands. The world was in place, still spinning, and that felt wrong to Hotch. Extremely wrong. You were gone, the world was supposed to be a horrible place. Things couldn’t just go on like nothing had happened. It couldn’t.

He had accepted that when the line went silent before. You had said your goodbye. You were gone. He had lost you. After the rest of the team had left that room, to probably continue to work to take their minds elsewhere, he stayed there, unable to move. He stared to that phone, and a voice in his head said nothing would ever be the same again. He had survived through Hailey. Could he survive through this? Losing you? He doubted it. He really did.

He just wanted silence and to be alone. To mourn you unstoppably like he new you would not approve, but still, he had to. But then David had entered the room again and said that Garcia had something. And even though Hotch had said he wasn’t interested in knowing whatever it was, David told him anyway. He said that when she left the room, she tried to triangulate the source of the call and was able to narrow down the location to a certain region. From there, Emily helped her with the profile that had been built and Reid added it to his geographical profile. Turns out, they could find the origin of the call. The place where you were. Where you had been, at least.

Hotch had told them that he did not want to go. He did not want to go and see your dead body laying around, disposed like he had seen so many other victims before. To see it… he couldn’t. He told the others to go, to arrest the unsub, he did not care. Because even though he did promise you that he would catch the man, he couldn't do it then. He wanted nothing but you back, but that he couldn’t have. And that thought destroyed him.

He had been dragged to the car anyway, Morgan literally pulled him by the arm all the way out of the station. ‘(Y/N) made you promise to catch this guy and you did. Now you go and keep that promise' he had said firmly, and that phrase made Hotch’s chest ache even more than it already did.

As the fields continued to pass, he thought about all you had done together on the past few weeks. You had taken Jack to a park and made a picnic. He had found you asleep in his office and covered you with a blanket he had laid around from one of his to-go bags. You had shared a rushed meal on your way to the airport, just a couple of burgers and soda. You had placed fries in his mouth while he was driving and you both had laughed hard on that day.

“Aaron” his name was spoken just by his side. It brought him back to the hateful reality. He sighted heavily. Live in memories had never felt so good. Turning to his side, he saw that David was looking at him with a careful expression on his face. “We are here”

Those words took a few seconds to make sense. At first he just frowned, but then realization came and his eyes snapped through the window and he saw it. A barn, right next to a small farm house. Both looked old and abandoned, the field around had clearly not been taken care of for a long time now. It was there. You were there. Your body, that being.

He got out of the car before David could say anything else. Before he himself even realized what he was doing. His hand just opened the door of the SUV and his legs were set into motion, taking him out of the vehicle and advancing several steps in the direction of those two constructions. He felt like something was pulling him in that direction, even though he felt the urge to actually run in the opposite direction. Would he be able to ever forget the sight of your body if he found it?

“Hotch! Wait” one of the car’s doors was slammed behind him and then Morgan came running towards him and stopped at his front, putting a hand on his FBI vest to make him stop from going forward. “The unsub is probably armed. You can’t go in there like this”

“Right” he mumbled to himself, lowering his eyes to his waist where he always carried his gun. He took it in his hands, feeling the weight of it like he always did. His voice sounded strange, even to himself. It carried nothing. It was the sound a ghost would make if he could be heard. He did feel like a ghost, just not feeling the pass of time and seeming unaware of everything going around.

Morgan watched him carefully until Rossi, Prentiss and Reid joined them. All of them had their guns in hand and seemed more than ready to bring an end to that nightmare. Rossi was the one who took command of the situation. “Spencer and I will take the farm house. Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss, you take the barn. Be careful, okay?” Prentiss and Morgan nodded in agreement. Hotch did not do anything.

When Morgan and Prentiss moved, he moved. He followed them with calculated steps and an erratic breathing, that came from the sense of panic he was feeling growing little by little inside of him. He saw Morgan pushing the doors of the barn open. From holes in the roof, light illuminated the place that once might have been dark even during the day. He saw Prentiss pointing her gun around as she looked for anything suspicious or a movement of any nature. He walked along with them, pointing the gun randomly, mind fogged and confused. Morgan took the front. Prentiss the right. He went left, to the corners, and that’s when he saw. You.

The first thing he noticed was that you were wearing your dark blue jeans. He hadn’t noticed that before, when you had gone out to follow a lead, but now he did. You were laying on the cold ground, hair spreaded around in a mess that used to be in his pillows by the morning. Your white tank top was a complete mess, teared apart in the belly, where you had been stabbed at least three times. Blood. Blood everywhere. Your face was turned away from him.

He fell to his knees, just realizing such thing when the impact seemed to crawl all the way up to his brain. The tears he thought had ended, came back as if to prove a point to him and instantly started to fall down. Always falling down. He wanted to look away. He need to look away. But how could he do so? You were just laying there. Left behind like some broken object. You had without a doubt been treated as such by the unsub. He wanted to scream. He wanted to sob. But quickly he realized he couldn’t emit any sound. Wasn’t able to.

“Prentiss! Here!” Hotch heard Morgan scream suddenly and he watched as the agent ran towards your body and threw himself to his knees to grab your dead body and bring it towards him. “Dammit, (Y/N)” he said, in the verge of tears.

Hotch finally fell completely down and placed his arms on his knees, then leaned his head down on it. He stared at the could ground and cried. And cried. And cried some more.

“Oh my God” Prentiss said from a few feet away, then she ran towards Morgan and also leaned down, from the sounds Hotch heard. Silence filled the barn as the three of them tried to accept reality. Emily was crying hard when suddenly, she spoke again. “What?”

“(Y/N) has a pulse” Morgan said, his voice seeming to come from far, far away. It was unsure, did not have any confidence. But then after a few more seconds of silence, his voice grew louder. “Emily, it’s a pulse! Get Rossi and Reid here!”

Hotch heard with a confused mind as Prentiss ran away towards the entrance of the barn and shouted for the other two agents. Her voice echoed through the fields. As it did, Hotch raised his head slowly and looked back to where you were. Morgan held your body loosely against his chest, an exasperated expression on his features. His eyes were fixed on the leader of the unit. “Hotch, (Y/N) has a pulse!” as the words seemed to have no effect on the other, he became more desperate. “Hotch, (Y/N)'s alive! Alive, Hotch!”

Hotch got up to his feet and walked towards your body and Morgan, stopping himself from believing that. From having hope. Once close he went down on his knees again and from up close, he saw your face. Eyes closed, blood in the corners of your mouth. The mouth he had kissed so many times. The face he caressed with his fingertips whenever he could.

“Here, Hotch, give me your hand” Morgan demanded and before the other could even do so, he grabbed Hotch’s hand and pressed it to your neck. Your skin was cold. It frightened him. He was about to move his hand away when he felt it. Just a little pumping under his finger. A pulse.

“Alive” he mumbled to himself, trying to set his mind straight. Trying to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t gone. You could still be saved.

“Yes, Hotch, alive!” Morgan smiled out of pure joy as he passed your body into Hotch’s arms and quickly took off his vest and then shirt. With a lot of skill he wrapped the clothing around your bleeding stomach, doing the best he could to prevent the bleeding from keep happening. “We have to get to an hospital”

It was as if Hotch had just been struck by a lightning. He felt filled with an odd energy, that set him into motion in an instant and made him get up with you wrapped in his arms carefully. He ran out of the barn as fast as he could without wanting to hurt you more, passing by Rossi and Reid on the way. “To the car. Now! We have to go!” the firmness in his voice, going back to how it usually was, made the others move as well.

He got in the back of the SUV with you still in his arms. Reid got to the passenger’s seat and Morgan got the wheel and set the car in movement as fast as he could. Rossi and Prentiss took the other vehicle. “Garcia!” Reid’s voice was loud and filled with urgency. “I need you to give me directions to the closest hospital to where we are. Now!” a few silent seconds. “(Y/N) has a pulse”

Hotch had his eyes sat on your face as all of that happened, fingertips running through your face and hair as he fought back more tears. Hope. He had to grab himself to hope right now that it was possible. Your breathing was barely there, chest almost not moving at all. But it was still there.

Still there.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

“What about the unsub?” J.J asked the others, with her arms crossed over her chest and a heavy look on her face. Just the mention of that man disgusted her.

Hotch sat at one of the hospital's reception chairs, elbows on his knees and eyes on the too clean floor. So different from the barn's. Hours had passed since he had stormed into the E.R with you in his arms. Hours had passed since you had been taken to surgery and disappeared through many doors with doctors all around you. He hadn’t had news since. Any. At all. So all he did was sit there and wait, hoping, praying, wishing and listening to the others talking, without saying anything.

“I found him” Morgan, who now wore a shirt Garcia had brought to him on her way there, said, and Hotch could feel his stare upon himself from the corner of his eye. Even though he was not looking at them, he did pay some attention to that part of the conversation. Honestly, the unsub had not even crossed his mind until J.J mentioned him. All his focus was on you. “He was dead. Shot in the stomach. Bled out. For the way there was a gun left a few feet away from his body, my guess is that (Y/N) managed to shot him before or after being stabbed. He tried to leave by the back exit of the barn, but didn’t make it”

“Good” Reid said with conviction, getting nods of agreement from both David and J.J. He had his hands on the front pockets of his pants and his eyes kept on going to the door through where doctors had been coming to notify other people about their loved ones. He was impatient. Everyone was.

“(Y/N)'s a fighter” Prentiss said in a proud tone. She had been unable to keep a smile away from her lips from the very moment Morgan had said you had a pulse. Even though she was still worried if you would pull through, she was hopeful. Maybe too hopeful, but no one could blame her right then.

“Hey” the proximity of the voice made Hotch raise his eyes, only to be met by J.J's sight standing by his side, lips squeezed in a thin line and hair tugged behind her ears. She sat at the empty chair beside his and joined her hands over her lap. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m not” Hotch pressed his palms together, sighting heavily. They were sweaty, shaking quite a bit. He squeezed them, trying to stop that from happening. “J.J, what if…”

“Stop” the blonde cut him short, so firmly that he fixed his eyes on her in surprise. She was determined, like she usually was when she decided the case they would be working on nextly. “Don’t go there. Don’t torture yourself like that. (Y/N) is going to pull through”

“Are you sure about it?” the question was made weakly, tone just above a whisper. Maybe not even to her. It was more like a unstoppable thought that he desperately wanted to shake away.

J.J opened her mouth to try to formulate an answer but before she could the doors Reid kept on watching were opened and a doctor in scrubs passed through them. He looked around the reception and then fixed his eyes on the FBI team. He started walking towards them.

Hotch got to his feet and started to walk forward, to meet the doctor halfway. The doctor sat his eyes on his face. Even though Hotch was a profiler, in that moment he had no clue what that man was going to say to him.

It scared the hell out of him.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

You opened your eyes slowly, to then quickly shut them again. The light. It hurt. It was too bright. You tried to take a deep breath. It also hurt. You set your breathing into shallow ones, those you could handle for now. After several moments, you tried to open your eyes again, right eye before the left one. ‘Baby steps', you thought to yourself, mind a bit fogged and confused.

It took some time, but then the place you were in started to get into focus. The walls were extremely white. You were laying in something soft. Soft. So different from the barn. The barn… suddenly the pain you were feeling made sense. You had been stabbed. Did you die? Had that been it? Falling into unconsciousness and everything just stopped? Just like that?

“(Y/N)?” the voice was so sudden it scared you. Made your eyes snap to your left side and then you saw him. Sitting at a chair, elbows resting on the bed you were on. His face was close, eyes incredibly red making it clear that he had been crying. Short hair a bit messy, so unlike the usual organization he always valued. “(Y/N)?”

“A-Aaron?” your voice sounded shaky, deep. Your throat was very dry, and you could feel it burning a bit, as if you had just taken a shot of whiskey. Oh, you could really use one of those.

He smiled, chuckling a bit as his eyes got filled with tears. He fought with them for a second, trying to hold them back. “I’m here, babe. I’m right here” one of his hands travelled to the top of your head and he kept it softly there, stroking the strands of your hair gently.

“How…?” the question died in your dry throat, as you frowned, looking for a possible answer. A thought occurred to you and it made you stare at him in fear. “Hotch, if you died too, I’m going to be really pissed”

He chuckled a bit. God, that did sound exactly like something you would say. Even haven just gotten out of a major risk surgery. “I’m not dead. Neither are you” he saw the relief in your features and smiled. He thought about the fact that he probably had never given someone a smile as pure as that one. How he was feeling… he couldn’t even begin to describe it.

“B-but the call… the barn…” you began, because that did not make sense at all. You remembered perfectly making that call, saying your goodbyes to him and the team. How could you have survived that, when you had already admitted to have been beaten?

“Garcia triangulated the call. She narrowed the location. Reid used his geographical profile and the others crossed references with men with criminal records in the area” the words just slipped across his lips, one after the other. Now that he knew you were okay, he stopped to think about how great had been the other’s work. If they hadn’t done that… well, he tried to push away that terrible thought. “They found your location. They found you”

“They?” you echoed his saying, confused by the choice of words. Usually, there wasn’t a 'we' in that team. It was a 'we'. And 'we' only.

Hotch swallowed dry at the questioning. He averted his eyes from yours and being a profiler, you recognized that body language. He was embarrassed. Feeling guilty. “After your call, I… I lost my ground. I froze” he squeezed his lips on a thin line. “They did everything on their own, I helped with nothing. In the barn, when we found your b-body” he struggled with the word for a bit. “Derek was the one who approached you and noticed you had a pulse. I had given up hope. All I did was sit down and cry” he sighted heavily, obviously trying not to cry right then and there. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should have reacted. I shouldn’t have sent you out there in the first place, it was my fault”

“Aaron” you slowly managed to move your hand enough to grab his, that still stood in the bed. Your touch on his skin finally made his gaze travel back to your face. You felt that usual spark of excitement when your eyes met. “Nothing is your fault. You were in shock. If this happened to you, I would have reacted in the exact same way. So, please, don’t go there” he nodded in agreement, but you could see that he would struggle with the matter still. For how much you knew him, you guessed that for quite a long time. However, you would be there for him. As you thought everything that had happened, you suddenly got agitated. “What about the unsub? Did you get him?”

“You were the one who got him, babe” Hotch said, and his words made more memories come into place. The stabbing. The fact that when that man was about to pull away from your bloodied body, you grabbed his gun and managed to shoot him. Just a single press to the trigger, that took all the strength you still had. You could still hear that awful sound ringing inside your head.

“I shot him” you said, and he nodded in confirmation.

“He tried to run, but I suppose you got one of his main organs. He died right there, a few feet away from where you were” he told, Morgan’s speech from earlier becoming quite useful. In that moment, he was grateful for having paid attention at all.

You had killed him. You did that. You won. “Good” was the only thing you said, and he chuckled. You smiled softly at him. “What?”

“Reid said the exact same thing” he said, still stroking your hair.

“Reid” you echoed the Doctor’s name, thinking about him and the others. About how much you would like to see them. In that barn, you had realized just how much you loved all of those people. People who used to be only your co-workers in the beginning of that job, but now were your family. “I-is the team here? Can I see them?”

“I’ll tell them to come in right now” Hotch kissed your forehead for a long moment, got up from his chair and disappeared through an open door in the corner of the room. Looking around the white walls and being able to hear only your own shallow breathing, you instantly wished to not have sent him out. You feared that being alone, would send you right back at that barn with nobody but that man. The unsub.

Before you could start to really panic though, Hotch got back, passing by the door. But this time, he was accompanied by the others.

“There you are” Emily was the first one to approach your bed, smiling like you had never seen her smile before. She seemed radiant, utterly happy. The fact that it was because of you, warmed your heart. “I knew you would pull through. You’re a badass” she got your hand in hers and squeezed it tightly, making you smile.

“Hey, sibling. I’m glad you’re okay” Spencer was the next one to approach you, as Emily got a spot close to one of the white walls. His saying was clearly a reference to the fact that you had said to consider him the 'brother' you never had, and that made you realize something.

“Y-you all heard that call?” you asked, looking around the room, to all of those familiar faces.

“Every single word” David confirmed your theory, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “We’re sorry for invading your privacy like that, but… honestly we couldn’t leave. And Aaron… it was better not to leave him alone in there” he looked at his side at Hotch, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking a the floor for a few seconds.

“I’m glad you didn’t” you said to David and your words made Hotch’s eyes raise to meet your face again. As you smiled reassuringly, he was able to smile too.

“And as for me marrying again, I’m not going to promise anything. What if I met a person who would be an wonderful ex?” Rossi said, making everyone roll their eyes and laugh. You tried to laugh, but your chest hurt too much, so you turned out to just cough a bit.

Hotch reassumed his position at the chair by your bed on that exact moment. “Don’t push too hard” his hand went back to your hair, as you agreed. ‘Baby steps', you reminded yourself.

J.J then came close, eyes filled with tears. She touched your arm gently, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re fine” she leaned down, kissed your forehead and then stepped back as you were only able to smile at her.

“I already made you three playlists” Penelope said as she was the one who now approached you, her eyes were red. She had clearly been crying very recently. You wished you could hug her. “One for your time here in the hospital, one for your recovery time at home and one for when you get back to work. I tried to include versions of Hotch singing 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' or 'Every breath you take', but he didn’t think my idea was too great, so” she shrugged, in that good humored way of hers. You fought back the urge to laugh. The others did.

“Now that, would be stuff I wish to hear” you looked over at Hotch, smiling. He mumbled 'not going to happen' in a serious, smiling way that made you bite back a laugh. You looked back at Penelope, reaching your hand out to hers. She grabbed it. “Thank you, Penelope. Thank you so much”

As she stepped back, you saw Derek standing behind her. His expression was serious, a bit sad even. As he got close, you saw that he was squeezing his lips tightly. “You do know you scared the hell out of me out there, right?” After you mumbled out a ‘sorry’, he grabbed your hand. “Now, you focus on getting better so we can have those pizza nights you talked about”

“Now that’s a plan” you said, and he nodded in agreement, face cracking up in a smile. You felt good from seeing him smile. After a few more seconds Derek stepped back too, and you looked at all of them, standing there, watching over you. “Thank you, guys. For finding me. For caring. For… for everything” you took a breath as deep as you could take, trying not to let tears fall down. “Now please, go to the hotel, rest. I know you’re all probably extremely tired”

“Actually, due to your physical work preparation, we could have more eight sleepless hours before…” Spencer said, and hearing him rambling like that again felt as music to your ears. Seeing the look in your voice though, very serious about them going to get some rest, he stopped talking.

“We will be back first thing in the morning” J.J assured, with that defining tone of hers that let you no doubt she would keep that promise.

“At the very first light” David agreed.

“Don't go out killing bad guys without us in the meantime” Emily winked at you, still smiling.

“We love you” Derek said, seriously.

“And I love you all” you said, running your eyes through all of them. Then, you watched as one by one, they left the room and then it was like it had been in the beginning, just you and Hotch. You closed your eyes for a long moment, just enjoying the feeling of his touch in your hair. When you opened them again, you met his gaze. “It’s selfish, but c-can you stay?”

Hotch stared at you as if you had just told him the most absurd thing in the world. “(Y/N), did you really think I would leave? I’m not getting out of here until you do” the sight of satisfaction you emitted could not have been held back.

“We can share the bed” you suggested, smiling.

“I’m completely fine with this chair” he kissed one of your hands, bringing it close to his lips before placing it down again, with his over yours. You saw a thought run through his features and before you could ask, he spoke his mind. “Will you marry me, (Y/N)?” you were speechless, incapable of saying anything. You thought how much your admittance on the call to having found the ring would have hurt him. “I had the ring in that drawer for months now. With the job, and everything… I was waiting for the perfect moment to ask but almost losing you like this made me realize that there is no such thing. My perfect is whenever I’m with you. And that’s what I want. I want to marry you”

Hearing that, you could no longer stop the tears. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you”

Hotch smiled, chuckling too. His eyes were filled with tears. “Good, because I was beginning to think that you had only accepted because you were in the verge of dying”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled back. “How did you guess?”

He chuckled a bit more and then kissed your forehead again, like he had done before. “I love you”

Looking at him, the man you loved, you thought about how lucky you were. To have him. To be alive. To have that team. Being so close to dying like that, made you see just how important what you did was. You put away bad people, like the man who had kidnapped you. You saved others. And to be honest, you couldn’t wait to get back on the job.

“I love you too”

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch fanfic #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral

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lilacerull0 · 3 years ago

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JOOOO!!!! I'M HERE TO SCREAM IN YOUR INBOX!!!!!!!!

I finished season 1, watched the first episode of season 2 because I couldn't wait (they were connected if you remember). The finale was AMAZING!!!!!!!! They introduced us to Reid's mother, Elle's past, we learned more about the characters' personal life than any other episode!! I loved every bit of it!!!!! We've seen how truly they care for each other!! Garcia and Reid bonding?? Yes!!! Elle was saved (thank God 😅). I even loved the way they made the crime, like the unsub knowing personal things about the team, giving them clues in order to solve the crime. Reid and Garcia were incredible together!! Gideon not leaving the hospital, telling hotch to not blame himself for what happened!! Hotch's concern about everyone especially Gideon and Elle? Loved it!!!!

But the most beautiful thing is hotch going to Elle's house to clean it before she leaves the hospital, only when he was sure she's going to make it!!! It was wholesome!!!

Morgan and Elle's friendship. Morgan and hotch exchanging looks when they found out about Reid's mother in the unsub's house!!!! These two episodes really showed how they love each other like family!! I am absolutely in awe. I literally stayed up late just to finish it even though I had to wake up at 6:30 the next morning!!!!

Perhaps you don't remember every scene and I hadn't taken screenshots because I was watching the episode with such concentration, but I need to rant to someone about it!!!!!!!

I'm really glad I get to enjoy this with you!!!! Thank you so much for putting up with my insanity that can only increase with every episode I watch. I hope you're having a nice day!!!!!! Love you 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍💫💫💫

Also, Reid's hair pushed back in this episode was a nice addition. (Me saying this in order to show how normal I am about this).

HERE I AM AT LAST!!!!! Time to be very normal about Reid *wink wink*

GOSH!!!!!! These two episodes!!!!! I always say that friendship and family (and all the ways in which they overlap) are the heart of CM as a show and that's so beautifully brought to surface here. It's how all these storylines work together, Elle's dad, (even the unsub's family history!), Spencer's mom, the BAU being positioned as something that directly correlates with those familial themes which is wonderfully proven with Reid's mom standing with all of them and helping them solve the case. AND THOSE GLANCES BETWEEN HOTCH AND MORGAN AND GARCIA'S FACE WHILE REID IS ON THE PHONE!!!! The writers did this amazing whole circle thing, they took the common meanings and mixed them up with unconventional ones. Like I mentioned, giving Reid's mom the role of a profiler (something that's private and personal and purely familial coming in contact with the job which isn't usually associated with bonding, especially this job) and having everyone mess around and have fun at the beginning of the finale (s1), like Morgan and Elle just being people for a change. (which points out how their relationship isn't strictly work-related! they're friends!!!! or Reid knowing about JJ's love for butterflies... so many things like that giving their job this not very common meaning of love and closeness and care) I just love how the writers play with that, it's the best thing about this show!

Gideon cooking 🥺 Hotch and his wife 🥺 Gideon being devastated because the unsub took that one thing that was just his, that wasn't related to his work, away from him. This is a common theme in the show, how their jobs affect their private lives and it's so gut-wrenching, but it also works as an emphasis on the importance of the connections all of them have with the people they work with. It's all so 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I think these are the first episodes that put an accent on that like this. By bringing all these drastically different characters together. I must admit that what makes CM feel so real to me is how it isn't about building relationships between characters, but about showcasing all these aspects to the audience with time. They're like: oh yeah, this is how they've always worked, it's just that you as a viewer didn't know about it. It helps you forget that it's all planned out which I appreciate. And it makes any new layers added feel more organic.

Hotch is everyone's parent tbh. HE'S GIDEON'S PARENT!!!! He cares so much and he still manages to maintain a clear perspective. I just love that he's not your usual stoic seemingly cold hearted character, he's just... always thinking about everyone and that care is entirely about them. HE!!!!!!!!!!

Let's just say I have a lot of feelings about Reid with his hair like that mhmhmhm (I - I have entire notebooks filled with his name and tiny ridiculous hearts surrounding it, 11 year old me was something alright... HE WAS SUCH A COMFORT AAAAH he IS such a comfort)

Oh and there was this:

Last one is specifically dear to me because SHOCKER, Reid and JJ are (probably?) my favourite relationship on the show. Literally the touchstone of my fandom preferences. THEIR FRIENDSHIP! IS! SO! LAYERED! They are all about those dimensional pockets existing between words friend and lover and aaah. Pretty sure she lightly touched his arm in that last photo and I'm always a sucker for characters who aren't all that into physical affection allowing that one specific person to touch them and that other person realizing the weight of that? (see: Riley & Farkle from Girl Meets World or House & Cuddy :")

I am So. Glad. I get to share this with you, it's such a rollercoaster of emotion for me in a surprisingly pleasant way. 2022 is the year of me coming back to my childhood favourites 😎

#criminal minds: is about what it's about #jo & mais: everyone is sooo 🥺🥺🥺🥺 in this show #sbdjjdkdkdkdk #criminal minds #mais <3 #love love loveeeee that i get to be insane with you

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420pogpills · 2 years ago

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The thing that I find the most frustrating about all of this isn't even the antis shit talking it's other creators. Like you know how much hate he is getting (and probably know yourself how that is) and still make it your priority to shit on this? I've seen so many of them post the leaked picture, like why?

If you got nothing nice to say don't speak at all.

i'm not sure what leaked picture you're talking about but this sadly doesn't surprise me. a lot of people are assholes, some of them just happen to also be content creators. it's really frustrating.

i was so upset last night because a different community i was a part of were being absolute cunts about dream's face reveal and even the content creator we were all fans of was partaking in all of it so i literally just unsubbed to him and i told everyone i'm going on an indefinite twitter break and just logged out of that account 😂 i have no plans of going back. because yes i was a fan of dream first, but this isn't about dream - this is about people thinking it's okay to mock someone's appearance, so how am i supposed to feel confident around you people to show my appearance? or express myself and express my love for the dream team??? it made me so uncomfy so i just dipped, i don't participate in nasty behaviour like that and i don't wanna be around it either 🫡

people can just be really fucking weird. like how do you find it within yourself to be so cruel online? as if you're not all interacting with real human beings who are real feelings...

so i agree with you - if you've got nothing nice to say, shut the fuck up 👍🏻

#ask #anon #dream face reveal #cw negative #cw negativity

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x-reader-theater · 3 years ago

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I'm not sure if your requests are open but here I go. Can I suggest a Spencer Reid x Reader that likes to gamble? Maybe they met on a case and the unsub was spotted in casinos and while interrogating, Spencer met the reader? I don't know, I'm just tired at this point

I'm making the game Texas hold-em, because that's literally the only kind of poker I know how to play. Edited by @mystic-writes as always. 💛

Gif by @reidgifs

"Alright, blinds shifting to the right!" the dealer says from the middle of the table. The game was not standard casino fare, with everyone knowing each other and talking the entire time. But, seeing as it's the only game in town you learned to play.

It doesn't bother you, the lack of professionalism. You don't play to win, you play to have fun. And maybe take some money from your neighbors.

You know everyone at the table. Your next door neighbor Chucky is sitting to your right, his blonde hair just as unkempt as usual. George is sitting to your left. He's across the way from you. Frankie lives down the street, he's next to Chucky, and Harry is dealing tonight.

The only person you don't know is a man sitting next to George. He has shoulder length brown hair and is far too skinny to be from anywhere around here. Your town values hard work, and stands up against corporations that try to take over their farms. Everyone works their own land, and that's how they like it. That also means everyone is stocky and strong. The man does not look like he's from around here.

"Alrighty then, new-guy. What'll you have?" Miss Mary Garland asks, her circular metal tray tucked underneath her arm.

"Uh, just water please," he says, and you raise your eyebrows at that.

"Alright, I'm callin' the ten," George says, throwing in his chips. It's not a high stakes game at all, and you're glad for it. You would hate to take any significant amount of money from these people. It's all for fun.

"I call," the unknown man says, throwing in his own ten.

The rest of the round goes by uneventfully, you fold, not having anything good and not wanting to lose more than ten chips a round if you didn't have to, and the new guy ends up winning the fifty dollar pot, on what you can only assume is a bluff. That or he's not very good at the game. But the way the man's eyes are looking at everyone around the table, with a discerning eye, trying to see what they have based on their expressions, he's definitely bluffing.

The next round starts, and you find you have pocket sevens. You call the ante, putting your ten in, and it moves off to the next round. Another seven shows up, as well as a jack and a ten. You school your expression, as you raise by ten. The three men you know fold, and it's just you and the stranger. He looks at you, and you hold his gaze, his hazel eyes narrowing at you, trying to ascertain what you have.

The flop is put down and none of it interests you. A king and a queen, as well as a two.

Your percentage is pretty good at this point, but you can't put everything you have into it. The man could have something better. Potentially.

The turn is put down and it's an ace. Not helpful to you, so you put in five, and the man does the same.

Finally, the river is placed. It's another seven. You fight down the grin you want to bring to your face so badly, but you fight it, pushing it down, your face little more than a blank slate. You put in half of your pile, which, admittedly, isn't much, but it is a good 25 dollars. The unknown man, whose face is as blank as yours, raises you another 25. Your entire pot.

You swallow, but push the rest of your chips in. You think he swallows as well. Your hand is the third best, and the only thing that can beat you is a straight flush or a royal flush, and looking at the odds, he most likely doesn't have that. If he does, you'll eat your hat.

"Alrighty then," the dealer says and it's at that moment you realize how tense it's become. No one's said anything since they folded, and you've been too focused on the man sitting across from you. "Show us what you got!"

The unknown man lays his hand down, and you suck in a breath as you see what he has. A pair of Jacks. Full house with sevens.

"Full house," he says, and you almost forget to put your own cards down when he speaks. His voice is smooth but young, and you have to wonder how old he is.

You put your cards down and grin at the man, saying, "Four of a kind."

You pull all of the chips to yourself at your place at the table, stacking them, before saying, "Sorry boys, but I'm gonna take my winnings and go."

You push the chips to the dealer who gives you 100 dollars in twenties and another 15 for the blinds. You collect your money as the rest of the table, besides the unknown man, boos you, but you just laugh as you walk out of the room, into the main dive bar, and order yourself a glass of water, putting away your money.

The unknown man takes a seat next to you, holding his own water you didn't realize he got, too focused on the game.

"So, you come in, and somehow get a seat at our private poker game. Do I at least get to know your name?" you ask, taking a sip of the water placed in front of you.

"Spencer. Reid. Uh, Spencer Reid, is my name," he says, awkwardly, and you raise an eyebrow. This man is different to how you saw him only minutes ago. He's not as confident, cocky.

"Spencer. I like it. Classic," you say, and the man in front of you actually blushes. You smirk. "So, Spencer, what are you doing in my little town?" you ask, leaning forward into Spencer's space.

He flushes an even deeper red, and stutters out, "I-we- I'm here investigating the murders that-that occurred recently."

You nod. "And you think it's someone in the poker group?"

Spencer nods. "Yes, but the unsub took someone and is holding them, torturing them right now and it seems like everyone was there…"

You shake your head sadly. "We have another member who usually sits in your place. He's right shit at the game so we never talk about him. We just take his money usually, and send him on his way. He's a real creepy bastard if I've ever seen one."

"What's his name?" Spencer asks, and you go to write it down, taking a pen from your shirt pocket and a napkin from the bar, and writing the name, and something else down.

"Buddy. Buddy Green," you say, handing over the napkin.

Spencer takes it, nodding, before frowning. "What's this? Is this Buddy's number?" Spencer asks.

"What?" you ask back, flippantly. "Nah, I don't know Buddy's number. That's my number."

You wink, and Spencer blushes a deep red, thanking you for your info before running off. You down the rest of your water as you lean back against the bar.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer read x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #my writing #my work

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goldentournesol · 4 years ago

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The Receptionist and the Profiler (One)

Chapter One: Wins and Losses

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

If you’d have told high school senior Y/N that she’d be working at the FBI after graduating college, she would have never believed you. Not only did she have zero interest in law enforcement, she also seemed to lack any athletic skills to back her up. She was nothing like her fiancé, who’d had his heart set on joining the bureau since middle school. She and Grant Anderson were friends in high school and ended up getting together during their junior year. Anderson proposed to Y/N during her second year of college. She’d graduated almost two years ago now, but the wedding date was unknown. They’d been dating for four years and engaged for another four years with the wedding nowhere to be seen. He’d been the first and only boy–and man, to ever pay her half a mind. To her, that was good enough. Hell, she’d been with him for eight years, if she’d wanted to leave him, she’d have left long ago. Right?

Imagine her surprise when he’d told her that his new boss, Aaron Hotchner, was looking for a receptionist for the BAU. Fresh out of college, landing a secure job? That was a miracle, and she really did have to thank her fiancé for it. But everyone around her was so cool and she was just…there. Her job was basically to sort through files, organize Hotch’s meetings, among other things like making reservations at the hotels the agents stayed at on their cases.

The Agents of the BAU.

They were essentially the coolest people she knew.

First comes Agent Gideon, one of the founders of the BAU. His ability to read people scares her sometimes. How can one man’s beady little eyes have the ability to read people like they were some kind of book stowed away on a dusty shelf? A shelf only he can reach.

Then, comes Agent Hotchner, the unit chief. A stoic man with an even more stoic face. He’s a man who, to put it lightly, takes his job very seriously. On more than one occasion has she met his wife, Haley. They made a beautiful couple in her eyes and they’d just had their child, Jack Hotchner. She never knew how a baby’s face could be so wrinkly–yet so cute. Haley and Aaron were high school sweethearts, much like she and Grant. But that seemed to be the only aspect they shared. Despite his suffocatingly hard shell, Aaron was a loving man. That much was obvious. She wondered if Grant had ever looked at her the way Aaron looked at Haley.

Agent Derek Morgan, where to begin? He was tall, dark, and every bit handsome. His charming nature made all the ladies of the sixth (and fifth, and seventh, and eighth and–) floor swoon over him anytime he walked by. He is one of the bravest men she’d ever known. His ability to put himself in the place of the unsub was something she’d only heard stories about–but it gave her chills every time.

Next comes Agent Elle Greenaway, one of the most headstrong women Y/N has ever met. Her bluntness can come across as harsh, but she knew a woman in law enforcement had to stand her ground to be treated with as equal respect as her male counterparts. She admired her strength.

Agent Jennifer Jareau, or as Y/N knew her, JJ, was a kind hearted, compassionate woman who’s way with words absolutely blew Y/N away. The way JJ handled the media with such finesse was simply astonishing. She knew she could never string together the right words like JJ seemed to, up on those podiums, in front of all those nosy reporters. It was mind blowing to watch her in her element.

Penelope Garcia, or otherwise known as literal sunshine embodied in a technical analyst. She was the best at what she did, hacking, searching, filtering. It was a science, and Penelope Garcia made it look easy. She and Y/N had grown close since both of them stayed at the office while the other agents flew around the country, solving cases. They’d often spend endless lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ as she called it and was practically hellbent on teaching Y/N how to use Photoshop every chance she got.

And last but certainly not least, Dr. Spencer Reid. She’d never met a man with a more brilliant brain. He was known as the resident genius, the expert on well–everything. The man had an eidetic memory and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute. Is that not the most impressive thing on the planet? Nope, he just has to have three PhDs in three of the most complicated fields of study: mathematics, physics, and engineering, achieving all three before reaching 22 years of age.

He had joined the bureau about a year after Y/N had started there. She could remember their first interaction like it was yesterday.

He had been in and out of meetings before spotting Y/N at her desk, where she usually stayed during her lunch break, at least for the first year she was there. She was halfway through a cup of mixed berry yogurt when Spencer came up to her desk to ask where the breakroom was. Y/N directed him to the room and followed his gaze to the yogurt container in her hands before he left.

“Did you know that the origins of yogurt are pretty much unknown, although historians agree that there was no mention of it before 5000 BC? It’s thought to have been invented by the Mesopotamians.” He said as he pursed his lips and raised his brows, as if realizing he made a mistake too late.

“No, I didn’t know that! That’s super cool. You must be Dr. Spencer Reid, right?” She said, giving him her full attention, which made him slightly more nervous than he had been previously. He nodded, a shy smile on his face.

“And you’re…” he looked for her name holder, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

She giggled and the sound activated some kind of blood rushing mechanism right up into his cheeks, “Yup! I’m the BAU’s receptionist slash Agent Hotchner’s assistant, you know, nothing fancy but I like to think I’m pretty good at sorting through files.” She raised a brow and gave him an adorable smile and suddenly Spencer wasn’t so nervous to talk to her.

She seemed way more interactive and easygoing than just about 98% of the people in the building. He wondered if it was because she wasn’t an agent. Spencer also wondered if gaining a title like ‘Supervisory Special Agent’ would make him cold like the others, but then he remembered he has three doctorates and already introduced himself with the honorific.

She picked up on his silence, “You know, you have nothing to worry about, I overheard Agent Gideon talking about you landing the job with Agent Morgan.” She nodded her head towards a tall, muscular man, who Spencer gathered must be Morgan. Spencer smiled back at her, her words easing even more of the tension he collected in his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, you should see the massive list of exceptions they have to make to let me into the field.” He said with a ghost of a smile on his face. She had to physically repress a laugh. And right then and there, the seed of a beautiful friendship was planted.

Fast forward to two years after that interaction, Spencer and Y/N became pretty much attached at the hip whenever he was actually in the office and not flying around the country catching serial killers. Their desks were quite far from each other, hers right near the glass doors of the BAU and his across the room right near the railing that had Hotch and Gideon’s offices as well as the conference room. It gave them both perfect views of each other, which they used to send each other encouraging smiles throughout the day, maybe a funny face or two. He always had a way of making her smile, she hadn’t felt the fuzzy feeling of friendship in years. Besides Garcia, Spencer was the only person who had made an effort to get to know Y/N. In the past two years, she’d say Spencer knew her better than anyone else, possibly even Anderson, but that was surely because he was a talented genius profiler…

Budget meetings at the FBI were definitely the most boring types of meetings in the world. She had to be there because she was the one making all the reservations at the hotels, but once they began talking about the jet and fuel consumption–Y/N totally spaced out. Spencer enjoyed the meetings, though. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Y/N would sometimes space out and let her head fall against his shoulder. The weight of her head brought him inexplicable comfort and joy. He hates it when people come near him, when did it become so endearing to him for her to trust him enough with such a simple gesture? He found himself attending the meetings and sitting next to her whenever he got the chance, hoping that one day, maybe, just maybe she’ll allow her head to rest upon his shoulder again. Perhaps it was pathetic, but he found himself feeling overjoyed at the thought of budget meetings, they became the only thing he’d look forward to.

He wondered if this was how Anderson felt when she rested her head on his shoulder, but then his knee would start bouncing and he’d practically feel the envious monster growing in the pit of his stomach, so he’d stop. It certainly didn’t make it any easier to stop when it was so easy to look over and find Anderson leaning against her desk and flirting with her. Technically, he has every right to flirt with his fiancée, but that didn’t stop jealousy from coursing through Spencer’s veins violently.

The team had just landed last night, they were coming back from a case revolving around the famous actress, Lila Archer. Apparently, she’d had a stalker. Y/N couldn’t wait to hear the details of the case, she had watched almost all of Lila’s movies. She eagerly awaited Spencer’s arrival. Just then, she heard the ding of the elevator and saw a very sheepish -and flushed- Spencer with a very playful Morgan hot on his tail.

“Morning, pretty girl!” Derek halted his seemingly incessant teasing to greet her as they walked towards her. Spencer was oddly quiet as he tried to pass by, offering her a small, awkward wave instead of his usual smiley ‘good morning!’, but Derek grabbed him by the strap of his messenger bag. He made it his mission to embarrass Spencer as much as humanly possible when he woke up this morning. What Derek didn’t know was that Spencer wanted Y/N to be the absolute last person to know of what happened. Spencer shifted uncomfortably and was positive he was sweating more than he ever had in his 24 years of life.

“Morning, Derek! So, tell me all about it! Did you meet her? Of course, you met her, duh! What was she like? Was she a stuck up diva like her character in Wins and Losses or was she more down to earth?” Y/N questioned curiously with a hint of excitement.

“Oh, I think pretty boy here has all the answers you could ever wish for. After all, it wasn’t me who made out with a hot movie star in her own pool.” Derek laughed, eyes squinting as he clapped Spencer on the shoulder proudly. Neither of the two men caught the way Y/N’s face dropped. Spencer was too focused on looking anywhere but at her and Derek was too triumphant to look anywhere but at Spencer’s -alarmingly- red face. He attempted to clear his throat when the few seconds of stunned silence became much too suffocating. Derek turned back to Y/N just in time to see her collect her jaw from off the desk and morph it into a smile.

“Spencer Reid, you did what?!” She attempted to laugh in order to lighten the mood, hoping the two profilers wouldn’t pick up on her dis-ingenuousness.

They hadn’t, thankfully.

Spencer’s shy eyes met her curious ones as he tried to imitate Derek’s proud smile,and he could have sworn he saw a sort of unfamiliar heaviness in her gaze, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

Could it be? Was she feeling jealous? There’s no way, she thought. But what else could be behind the not so subtle burning feeling in her chest?

“Um, yeah. She kind of pulled me into the pool with her…” he recounted with a small voice, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“And?” Derek said in anticipation, despite already knowing.

“Alright! We kissed a few times, what’s the big deal?” He huffed, turning to look at Derek and resisting the urge to punch him in the face for embarrassing him in front of Y/N.

Garcia suddenly appeared next to them, catching the looks between the two agents and Y/N’s shocked expression, “Oh! Are we talking about boy wonder locking lips with miss Lila Archer in her pool?”

Spencer’s face dropped, “How do you know about that?!” he all but screeched.

“I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.” Garcia wiggled her eyebrows at Spencer before sharing a knowing look with Derek which led to a prompt punch to Derek’s arm from him which then led to an over exaggerated yelp of pain.

“I’ve also got photos!” Garcia said, quickly pulling out her PDA and showing Y/N.

“Garcia! How?!” Spencer exclaimed, but it was too late. Y/N was already scrolling through the photos, laughing.

“Spencer, you sly dog!” She laughed, though the situation awoke an unprecedented, seemingly underlying feeling of envy. Spencer rolled his eyes in embarrassment and stormed off in the direction of his desk, leaving the three of them behind.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, although Y/N had to keep fighting against the way her chest felt tight every time she remembered those photos. She had a feeling she was never going to watch Wins and Losses ever again.

next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!!

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid masterlist #the receptionist and the profiler #goldentournesol #mgg #the office

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hotchley · 4 years ago

Text

strawberry cheesecake

BAM! IT’S HERE!!! BEFORE MIDNIGHT AS WELL!! It was 23:14 when I hit publish on ao3 and I really do need to go to sleep, but it’s here, with some level of accuracy because I googled what happened when someone has an allergic reaction.

Finally, I, the pioneer of Aaron Hotchner’s strawberry allergy, has written the fic where he eats strawberry cheesecake at an FBI function and has a reaction. It got unexpectedly dark, but we’re going with it.

As usual, I have not proofread it, and I kinda need you to suspend all belief about how the FBI works/is run because the function kinda doesn’t make much sense and yeah... you’ll see what I mean when you read... I’m really hoping this doesn’t suck because you guys actually looked forward to it??

Trigger/Content Warnings; food, referenced child death (most recent case), alcohol consumption, anaphylactic shock/allergic reactions, child abuse, hospitals and I think that’s everything

Word Count: 7669 (it got really out of hand...)

read on ao3!

If there was one thing David Rossi hated more than local press giving unsubs ridiculous names because they believed it would make a good headline, it would be FBI functions. And not just any type of FBI function. The FBI function where the Behavioural Analysis Unit- which nobody had believed in- would be mentioned so frequently that it felt like they were on a case.

It was just his luck that one was being held on the same day that he was supposed to be going to the ballet with one of the lovely women that worked in the White-Collar unit. Because despite the rumours that went flying around about him and his dating habits, he was not going to take advantage of his position and make rookies or anyone else uncomfortable. The woman he was supposed to be meeting had approached him and asked if he’d liked to go.

Hotchner had been watching him, looking slightly scandalised as she had placed her hand on his tie, and so Rossi had said yes. He’d even leant in slightly and asked if she would have a problem with him giving her a kiss on the cheek. When she said that she wouldn't, and would actually quite like that, he did and Hotchner had fallen off his chair.

Rossi had smirked, the lady had laughed and Hotchner had hit his head trying to get back up, gone an even brighter red and made something up about dropping his pen and needing to grab it. Rossi’s date had snickered, whilst Rossi had just raised an eyebrow.

Hotchner had excused himself to the bathroom.

As he ran out of their area, closely followed by Anya- she’d slipped Rossi a piece of paper with her name and number, Erin Strauss had walked in, holding two envelopes.

Rossi didn’t need to be a profiler to know what was in there.

“No,” was the first thing he said.

“David,” Strauss warned.

“Erin,” he mocked.

Strauss sighed. “Look, I know you hate these things, but the entire bureau is founded on politics and people-pleasing. If you come to this, then there may be less questions about what exactly it is you do all day, apart from ogling the other agents.”

“I do not ogle. And I guess it’s too much to hope that the other invitation is for Anya, isn’t it?”

Strauss nodded. “It’s for Aaron. Do try and get him to come, it’ll give us all something pleasant to look at whilst we slowly die inside.”

Dave stared at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m not saying that I want to ruin his marriage or sleep with him, I’m just saying he’s objectively attractive. And I don’t know why you look so surprised, Jason told me about the women that flirt with him. And that you started calling him pretty boy, which hasn’t exactly gone unnoticed.”

“Right.”

“Just make an effort to actually attend. And please get Agent Hotchner there too,” she said.

Dave just nodded.

Aaron had returned from the bathroom.

“Agent Hotchner. I hope Dave hasn’t been making you feel too awkward with all of his comments,” she said. It was clear that she was just trying to see whether any had been made.

Aaron’s cheeks flushed again. “Not at all ma’am,” he said, holding the door open for her. She nodded and left, but not before turning to Dave one last time as she gave him an extremely pointed glare. He made a face at her, which caused her to laugh.

When Hotch had sat back down again, Dave finally acknowledged him.

“That trip to the bathroom seemed rather urgent,” he joked.

“I- well, so,” Hotch stuttered.

Dave shook his head. “It’s fine. And it doesn’t look like that date will be happening anyways, so it’s not a big deal.”

“Wait why won’t it be happening? You both seemed… excited at the prospect of going.”

In response, Dave threw the second envelope at his head. Aaron’s reflexes weren’t fast enough, so it just bounced off and landed on the floor. As he bent down to pick it up, Dave began to understand why Erin and the other agents thought of him as being something pleasant to look at. As in, Aaron had pretty eyes. And his hair was constantly falling in his face, which was endearing.

“That envelope is why it won’t be happening.”

Aaron stared at him and then opened it. “Oh.” He seemed even less enthusiastic than Dave did about attending.

“I thought you would have been thrilled at the thought of going. It’ll be like all those balls you went to when you were just a young boy growing up in the good old South Virginia," Dave said. He knew he was toeing the line.

Aaron's silence about his childhood revealed more than his words ever could.

"First of all, I didn't attend balls when I was a young boy. The only dance I ever went to was my prom, and that was only because Haley basically forced me to go. And South Virginia isn't that good, that's just a stereotype that people have because people live in fancy houses with white picket fences," Aaron snapped. It was uncharacteristically sharp.

"Sorry," Dave said. And he meant it.

Aaron's eyes widened. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You've not done anything wrong. I just-"

"It's okay. Do you want to talk about it? There's no pressure, it's just if you wanted to. That seemed like quite an extreme reaction to something so trivial." Why was he so bad at this? He could charm any woman he wanted, yet the moment he tried to speak to Hotchner about anything other than work and Haley, he sounded like an idiot.

"I left prosecution because it was always more about politics than actually helping people get justice for the terrible things that had happened to them. And now it just feels like nothing has changed and time that could be spent stopping someone from destroying lives is just going to go on people-pleasing," Aaron confessed. He wouldn't meet Dave's eyes.

Dave wanted to pull him in for a hug, but he knew it would most likely not be well received. He also knew that wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't his place to push. Aaron felt things, more deeply than the rest of them, but he would never admit to anyone that there were certain cases that got under his skin.

Like the one they had just finished. A child wasn't going to be coming home, but the look on the mother's face when they informed her was not one of sorrow. It was one of relief. Aaron had asked to stay behind to speak to her for just one more moment. And when he returned, there was an anger written in the clench of his jaw that Dave had never seen before.

Jason had told everyone to give the kid space. Against his gut instinct, Dave had listened to him. Which he now very much regretted.

"Kid. We all have limits. Nobody can spend every hour of every day hunting down these guys. At the end of the day, we're all just human. I won't lie to you, it will be a lot of people-pleasing. However, it will also- if you let it- be a bit of fun. You're a good agent Hotchner. And an even better person. Let yourself breathe for once."

Aaron looked down. "Thanks Dave."

Dave just shrugged. It was only when Aaron left the room again did he let himself groan. Now he was going to have to pretend to enjoy himself at the function or else Hotchner would just be upset because of his ruined date.

Depending on how you looked at it, the members of the BAU were either lucky or unlucky when no cases turned up the morning of the event. Dave had been watching the fax machine intently, and Max had been looking through a suspicious number of case files the entire day. But in the end, there was nothing.

Which was how Dave found himself standing around, sipping a glass of champagne he thought tasted horrible, talking to strangers he couldn't care less about and silent seething at Hotch. He wasn't there yet, despite phoning Dave to say he would be there in half an hour about forty five minutes ago.

The only reason he'd bothered to attend and not faked some form of emergency that would let him go on his date with Anya was because he wanted Hotch to have someone to keep him company and make him laugh as he suffered through conversations about being an ex-prosecutor and the change to the FBI.

He was looking round for a waiter so he could take yet another glass when Aaron appeared in the doorway, fiddling with his cuff links. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his hair was more ruffled than usual. As he entered, awkwardly greeting people and tripping over his own feet, Dave rolled his eyes.

How the kid had managed to pass all of his assessments and be the best shot in the entire building was still completely beyond him.

"Hi," Aaron greeted, a dopey grin on his face.

"It's lovely of you to join us," Dave remarked. He just couldn't help it. When Aaron's face fell slightly, he regretted it. He kept forgetting that Aaron took the things people said a bit too literally sometimes. Especially if it came from someone he looked up to.

"I'm sorry about your date being ruined," Hotch said. He was looking around at all the other people in their perfectly tailored suits and beautiful dresses. It made him- with his slightly too big shirt and undone bow tie- look even younger than he already was.

"Well barring any disasters, this should be over in time for me to make it. Anya said she could wait."

There was a slight silence, broken only by Dave rejecting what would have been his third glass of champagne and Aaron quickly accepting it. And then it became too much for him to bear.

"Kid, why is your tie undone?"

Hotch's eyes widened like he had only just realised. Rossi wouldn't have been surprised if that was true. For someone that was a profiler, he was quite oblivious sometimes. Not realising that if you took your vest off and then someone shot at you, you would suffer more than a few bruises, forgetting that his shirt collar wouldn't cover his entire neck, the list went on.

But this was something entirely different. Aaron Hotchner's tie was never undone.

Rossi raised an eyebrow when an entire minute passed without him explaining himself and the colour rose to his cheeks.

"Well, it took me a really long time to do it the first time and then Haley came into our room to grab her bag. And then she really likes it when I get all dressed up because I normally hate doing it- I mean I always hate it- so then she, you know and then I thought I had tied it properly but clearly I hadn't."

Rossi had never heard so many words spoken in a single breath. He did however, understand what the kid was trying to say. "Well at least one of us got to have some fun tonight," he joked.

"Is that why everyone's been staring at me?" Hotch asked, turning his back to Strauss. The woman simply raised an eyebrow, then raised her glass of champagne at Rossi, who glared at her, just because he could.

"Yes," he lied, because he was not about to be the one that explained to him that people were staring at him because he had been deemed the eye candy of the Quantico and therefore, everyone loved him.

"You're lying to me. I can tell! What's the truth?"

Not for the first time, Dave wondered what he'd been thinking when he saw the lead agent in Seattle run after a suspect without any sort of back-up, slip in poison ivy and then carry on running, even though everyone else had realised it wasn't the killer they were after and decided that he would make them into a profiler.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he said, making his voice as serious as he could in a vain attempt to make him change his mind.

"Yes. Because it's nowhere near as bad or as serious as you're making it out to be."

Damn him.

"Fine. But I did warn you. It's because you are- objectively- attractive. And apparently, your slightly repressed accent makes everyone swoon. Also Strauss thinks you have a nice ass," Dave said, completely nonchalant.

Hotch's cheeks went brighter than ever before and he spun round, searching for Erin. She had rather coincidentally turned her back to the two of them as she engaged in a very serious conversation with another Section Chief.

"I- I don't even want to know how you know that," Aaron muttered, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, looking like a petulant child.

"Oh I thought you would love it! You're basically a Southern Belle."

Dave was lucky he was immune to the Hotchner Glare as it came out in full force. "Don't call me a Southern Belle. Do you even know what that is?"

Dave shrugged. "I'm sure I could guess. Look, I'm sorry, I'm just being bitter. Come here."

Aaron regarded him suspiciously. "Why?"

If it had been anyone else, Dave would have told them it was a surprise. Or that they wouldn't know until they stepped forward. But Aaron wasn't anyone else, and Dave needed to remember that. There were certain things he just couldn't say.

"We're going to be here for a while. You can't just stand there with your bow tie undone."

Aaron narrowed his eyes, but stepped forward. When Dave reached forward and grabbed the ends, he tensed. To anyone else, it was too minute a gesture to be noticed. But Dave had spent more time reading people than he had with his second wife. He knew why Aaron was tensing. It was why he took as little time as possible tying it neatly, even though he wanted to take forever.

So that the other agents wouldn't be staring and making him self conscious. That was his only reason. It had nothing to do with the attachment he could feel himself forming, and it most definitely was not linked to his desire to help Aaron associate touch with love and comfort.

When he stepped away, Aaron seemed to relax slightly. "Thank you," he said, ever the gentleman.

Dave just shrugged. "You look better with it done properly. Speaking of, where is Haley?"

"What does Haley have to do with me looking better with my tie done properly?"

"Your tie wasn't done properly because of Haley. Come on Hotch, I thought you were meant to be an ex-prosecutor. And we both know the two of you are inseparable."

Hotch flushed, the way he always did when someone mentioned just how in love with Haley he was. Dave found it adorable, even though he hated himself for that. But he knew how important Haley must have been to Aaron's survival, so even though he wasn't her biggest fan, he begrudgingly respected her.

"She's out with her sister," he mumbled. "They made plans ages ago and they've been so excited for it that I couldn't ask her to cancel just to keep me company."

"That's kind of you. Most men probably wouldn't let their spouse just leave them when there's an event like this going on," Dave said.

"If you want to go on your date I'll cover for you when Strauss comes calling," Aaron said, rather suddenly.

Rossi frowned at him. Aaron had seemed excited at the thought of spending the evening together when he first arrived and for him to suddenly seem so willing to spend it apart, just so Dave could go on a date with someone who he was sure was lovely but he couldn't envision a future with, was more than a little unusual.

"Like I said, barring any disasters, I should be able to make it. Are you annoyed at me for bringing up Haley? I know that we had a bit of a rocky start when we first met, but I do respect her. And I like to think she appreciates the fact that I keep you alive."

"I'm not annoyed at you for bringing up Haley," Hotch said, huffing slightly. He was fiddling with his cufflinks. Dave wanted to comment on his behaviour, but did not want to be reminded of the no-profiling rule- which Hotch himself had implemented.

"Well you're annoyed at me for something and I would appreciate you telling me, instead of just bottling it up until we're on a case and something else happens."

"Dave, I am fine," Hotch snapped, tone mitigating his words.

"I'm sure you are," Rossi snapped back, turning away. Strauss was frowning at the two of them and he rolled his eyes. Screw etiquette, and screw the people that thought they were being unprofessional and causing a scene.

They were, but he wasn't going to admit it.

"Do you really think I would forbid my wife to do something as harmless as going out with her sister the same night that I have to attend quite possibly the most boring function known to man?" Hotch suddenly asked, tone laced with malice.

"Of course not Hotshot. I was joking," he said, softening his tone as the problem clicked.

"I wouldn't. I'm not her keeper. And I'm not-" he caught himself, shaking his head. "I just wouldn't."

"I know. I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to joke that like that," Dave said, catching Erin's eye. She nodded, clearly pleased that he had resolved something without resorting to violence or shouting.

He didn't acknowledge her. He wasn't an idiot, and he knew that resorting to violence or even raising his voice would lead to some sort of shut down from Aaron. And he did want the kid to enjoy himself, even though he did agree that playing politics whilst people were dying was stupid.

"The decoration is nice," Aaron commented, a few minutes later.

"It is, isn't it? It reminds me of this opera house I took Carolyn to, for one of our anniversaries. Actually, that opera house seems like the sort of place Haley would enjoy going to. I'll give you the name, you can surprise her," Dave said, deciding he would take the win and prod later.

Aaron choked on his champagne, colour rising to his cheeks when he realised people were watching him cough. He cleared his throat once more before turning to Dave, making absolutely no attempt to hide his shit-eating grin.

"What?" Dave said, hating himself for taking the bait.

"I have to tell Haley that you think she's the kind of person that would go and enjoy herself at an opera house."

"Is she not?"

"Dave, for our last anniversary, I took her to the local theatre because they were putting on Pirates of Penzance because that's what got us together. And the year before that, we both thought it was a week later than what it was, so her sister ended up taking us out."

Maybe Dave wasn't as good a profiler as he thought he was, because in his mind, he had a very specific image of Haley, and none of what had just been said fit with that image. He supposed that was what he got for making assumptions, having never actually met her in person.

"Oh, that's certainly interesting," Dave said.

"She's a very interesting woman," Hotch said, smiling so wide it physically hurt Rossi to see because he knew how the BAU burnt out love, and the strain it put on marriages. Hell, he had lived through it.

"Hold onto her Aaron," he said, without thinking.

Aaron frowned. "Of course I will. Dave, you've been acting weird the whole time we've been here. Are you okay?"

In all honesty, he wasn't. He always said he wasn't like Jason. He had no interest in being a mentor, or finding the next generation of profilers. That was never what he wanted. But there was something about Aaron, and his too large suits and his floppy hair that made him feel things he wasn't ready to confront.

But if he said any of that, Aaron would probably run for the hills. Hell, he probably would too.

"Of course I am. Now loosen up and enjoy yourself. I can tell you want to," he said, smiling when Aaron's eyes sparkled.

"What do you think Strauss would do if I told her I know what she thinks about my butt?" he asked, the smirk on his face far too mischevious for anyone's comfort.

"You can find out now," Dave said, nodding as Strauss approached them.

"Dave. Aaron, you look very handsome," Erin said, looking him up and down once.

Whatever had possessed Aaron just a few moments before had clearly vanished, as his cheeks flushed and he awkwardly stuttered out something that nobody, not even the person speaking, understood.

"Thank you… Ma'am. You look very nice too," he eventually managed to say, sipping his champagne to distract from his failure at speaking.

"Is there something you need?" Dave said.

"No, just making sure you weren't too bitter about your date being cancelled. And also making sure that Agent Hotchner would save both of us a dance after dinner. I'm sure everyone from Quantico wants to know whether or not our Southern Belle can dance," Erin said.

Hotch downed the rest of his glass. "I'm not- it doesn't work like- I don't- I really don't think- fine. One dance. But that is it, and none of you are allowed to laugh if I mess up, because I'm not the dancer. Haley is."

Haley seemed to be a lot of things that Aaron wasn't. Maybe it was part of the reason they were so well-matched.

Erin nodded, smiled at them both, then went to mingle with different people.

"See, everyone thinks you're a Southern Belle!" Dave said, smirking.

"But why? I've done everything I can to repress my accent, and I have done since the day I started law school," Aaron said. He did not whine, because grown men that worked for the FBI do not whine. But if they did, his sentence would have definitely sounded like whining.

"I know, and most days, it's only the slightest thing. I don't really know how everyone worked it out, but they did. And that's fine!"

Hotch pouted.

"Look, if you really don't want to dance, you could always land yourself in the hospital with some kind of injury. I could take you, sneak off to my date, Haley would affectionately roll her eyes and then give you all the kisses you want…" Rossi said, smirking.

"No it's fine. I'm not going to fake an injury, that would be so embarrassing," Hotch replied.

"Then stop pouting, you look like a child. And go mingle with someone else, if you spend the entire time before dinner with me, what will people say?"

Hotch snorted, then schooled his face into a look of neutrality, before nodding and going off to speak to one of the other higher-ups. Rossi noticed, rather fondly, that it was the one person that actually cared about the people involved in their cases, as opposed to just the politics and the prestige.

About five minutes later, he realised he missed the kid. And then he started to panic. Because he didn't get attached to people. Especially not new agents that had too much hope and faith. Not new agents that were that nice. He didn't. He couldn't.

Him and Aaron ended up seated next to each other at the banquet table, because there genuinely was no other way to describe it. It was long, and grand, and every platter was filled to the brim with food of so many different types. Dave honestly could not remember what the function was actually for, but a part of him was tempted to comment that if part of the budget for these events went to the BAU then they'd probably be able to properly fund the unit.

He refrained, if only because Aaron looked so excited at the prospect of finally eating something. Dave had learnt long ago that you had to eat before you came to these events because people loved talking and more often than not, you'd drink the champagne just to get through their conversations, but clearly Aaron hadn't quite learnt that lesson yet.

"So where is that wife of yours?" Max asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Hotch tensed. "Out with her sister. Why?"

"I've only seen you smile like you are now when Haley is around, but I don't see her anywhere," he said, in that annoyingly patronising tone of his.

Hotch relaxed, but flushed. "I-oh. Yeah. She's out with Jessica because they had made plans a while back and they don't really see each other as much anymore because Haley's busy teaching and doing the school production, and Jessica's getting her Masters so," he trailed off.

"I think it's lovely, how much you love Haley," Erin added.

Dave snorted into his glass, not at the fact that Aaron looked so uncomfortable but at the fact that these people hunted down serial killers and criminals for a living, and yet the thing they got the most joy from was teasing a kid about his marriage.

"Right, that's enough being mean to the newbie. What about dessert?" Dave said.

Aaron flashed him a grateful smile. He just shook his head. He remembered when he’d turned up to his first event, Carolyn in awe of all the decorations and outfits, and everyone else had been ruthless with their teasing. He wasn’t about to let Hotch suffer that same fate. He’d probably faint with embarrassment.

Erin laughed at the two of them, and Jason smiled at Dave’s defensiveness over his new protege. One day. One day Jason would get Dave to admit that the way he felt towards Aaron was nothing short of paternal. Max just rolled his eyes, but the waiters came to clear their plates before he could make another biting comment.

Aaron excused himself to the bathroom, and then the dessert was brought out. Dave, being the saint he was, switched his and Aaron’s plates because he wasn’t getting younger and he knew he was meant to be cutting down on his sugar. So if Aaron had the bigger slice, then it would do them both a favour. And it had a whole strawberry to decorate it, not just the jam.

Erin was giving him one of his looks when their eyes met and he resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. He knew what that look meant. It meant Erin had an opinion on whatever he had just done, and it was one he wouldn’t like or approve of.

“Look, it’s strawberry cheesecake!” Dave exclaimed, poking his fork in Aaron’s direction in an attempt to distract from Erin’s gaze.

The smile that had been plastered across Aaron’s face since they’d been sat down- and Dave really didn’t want to think that it was as a result of Erin’s comment about his butt, although it was the only thing that made sense- faded, and the colour seemed to drain from his face.

“What is it? Come on, you must love dessert, you’re the kid,” Dave said, slightly teasing.

Aaron opened his mouth, seemingly contemplating saying something that he thought would ruin the entire evening, but then he closed it and gave Dave a forced, tight-lipped smile. He almost pushed, but they had been having fun, so he just grinned back and urged Hotch to eat it.

If anyone noticed him wince as he swallowed each bite, or the fear that flickered in his eyes when he ate the strawberry, they didn’t comment. For that, he was grateful. He still had no idea what he was meant to do when the inevitable happened, but so long as nobody realised, he had time to work it out. All he needed was time.

He did really miss Haley though. If Haley had been there, she would have said something on his behalf because she would have known there was no way he would do it himself. It was too late to turn back now though. There was a tiny part of him that secretly hoped he’d outgrown it, but the moment he felt stomach cramps forming, he knew that was wishful thinking. Still, if he was lucky, nothing too serious would happen until he got home. Haley would panic, take him to the hospital and everything would be fine. Nobody else would have to know.

Or so he thought.

He’d gotten so good at not eating strawberries that he had completely forgotten just how badly, and quickly, the effects would hit him. He had forgotten just how allergic he was to the fruit. And he was aware of how stupid that sounded, but it was just one of those things.

Dave was staring. So was Erin. He cleared his throat, awkwardly looking down. When the waiters came out once more to clear the plates away, he smiled at them, hoping his cheeks didn’t seem flushed, or his palms too clammy.

“You promised me a dance,” Dave said, nudging his elbow.

“I did, didn’t I?” Aaron responded, hoping his voice didn’t sound too strained. When he stood up, his vision went slightly fuzzy and unfocused, and he found himself grabbing the table in order to stay upright.

He was going to be fine. All he had to do was make it through another few hours, and there was always a delay between his vision blurring and breathing becoming difficult, so with just a bit of luck, he could still do it.

Luck had never really been on his side.

Erin was standing, talking to Dave, and he couldn’t remember what he was meant to be doing, or why nobody was dancing. Maybe they had just been teasing him when they said he owed them both a dance. Or maybe they were waiting for him to do something. Either way, the confusion wasn’t helping him function.

“Kid, what’s happened to your hand?” Dave said suddenly. It reminded him of that time his cousin had eaten shellfish, but that didn’t make sense. There was no way Aaron had hit adulthood without realising he was allergic to the things they’d eaten.

Aaron stared at him.

Erin grabbed his wrist, the look that crossed her face one of fear and panic. “Aaron.”

It couldn’t be. There was no way the ugly red rash forming on his hand as they watched him was being caused by an allergic reaction. It just couldn’t, because Hotchner may have been stupid and irresponsible, but there was no way he was that irresponsible.

He cleared his throat.

“Now would be a terrible time to tell you that I’m allergic to strawberries, wouldn’t it?” he rapsed.

Dave’s jaw dropped. “You’re what?”

Aaron Hotchner’s timing had never been good. It had actually always been abysmal. He was born early, in both senses of the word, met the girl he would end up marrying on the last day before a three month holiday which she would spend out of the state, and was generally just not smooth with the way he did things.

So as if on cue, he fell to the ground, completely losing consciousness. Clearly the delay between his vision growing blurry and his breathing becoming shallow was not the large space of time he thought it would be.

“Aaron!” Dave yelled.

Erin dropped to her knees by her side. “Dave, phone for an ambulance. Now.”

Dave blinked a few times, then realised what she was asking him to do and ran out the room to find the phone. When he was patched through, he realised he had no idea if what Aaron was experiencing was just a reaction, or anaphylactic shock, but he just explained himself as best he could, only relaxing when they said it was likely everything would be fine and they would be there soon.

He re-entered the room only two minutes later, and Aaron was still in the recovery position.

“The idiot doesn’t have an EpiPen on him. I don’t know why, but he doesn’t, so now we literally have to wait until the ambulance gets here and hope for the best,” Erin said, some strange mix of angry and terrified.

“He doesn’t have his- what kind of- why not?” Dave said.

When he looked around the room, he realised it was suddenly startlingly empty. It was just Erin, him, Aaron- who still hadn’t come around- and Jason. Max was suspiciously absent. He figured that was for the best. If anyone would make the situation more awkward than it already was, it’d be Max.

“He managed to get everyone to go downstairs, then said he would stay with them. We figured the less people around when he woke up, the less embarrassed Hotchner would be,” Jason explained. “And on that note, I’ll go explain to the paramedics what happened,” he added, as sirens filled the air.

“Dave, when did our lives suddenly become co-parenting this mess of an adult if only so he gets home safe to Haley?” Erin suddenly asked.

“We don’t co-parent him. No. We just… look after him the way we would do with any other new agent that was his age,” Dave said, although he wasn’t even convincing himself. Erin didn’t respond, just looked at him with that glint in her eye.

He didn’t get the chance to carry on with his argument because Jason entered with the paramedics, and him and Erin moved away. It seemed like they had already been informed that Aaron didn’t have an EpiPen on him, because the first thing they did was inject him. There was one terrifying moment, in which Erin grabbed his wrist, where Dave thought they were too late, but they weren’t.

Aaron opened his eyes, obviously disoriented and immediately after lifting his head, let it hit the floor again. He seemed far too pale, but nothing gave the impression that he was going to be sick, so Dave relaxed. When he and Erin were finally able to go over, Aaron was almost done answering their questions, some of the colour returning to his face in the form of flushed cheeks.

If he was capable of embarrassment, then everything was going to be fine.

“We’re going to need to take him to the hospital for observation and to make sure he doesn’t have a secondary reaction, but one of you is welcome to come. In fact, it would be preferred, wouldn’t it Aaron?” one of the paramedics said.

Aaron nodded, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Dave, you should go. Aaron, I don’t want to see you in the office until you’ve been cleared both by the doctors and by Haley to return. Do you understand me?” Erin chastised, sound every bit the mother Aaron had never had.

He nodded miserably, closing his eyes, and for a few moments, Dave felt terrible for him because so many pieces seemed to be falling into place now. And then he remembered that the whole thing had been caused by Aaron not saying he was allergic. He still felt terrible, but he also wondered what the hell he was meant to say to Haley.

“Come on kiddo,” he said as gently as he could, helping Aaron to his feet and into the elevator.

When he was safely sat in the ambulance, and they were well on their way to the hospital, he raised an eyebrow at Aaron who pulled a face.

“Don’t,” he protested weakly.

“So you’re allergic to strawberries,” Dave said. “How long have you been sitting on that piece of information for?”

“I’ve known since I was four and ended up in the hospital after I went strawberry picking with my mother and ate one of them.”

“Aaron, nobody was going to be offended. You could have just said something, it would have been okay. Really, you can’t judge someone just because they have an allergy, and everyone would have just moved on. You didn’t need to eat it.”

Aaron swallowed. “When I was eight, my father bought strawberry tarts for my mother and I, because he knew she had friends round and he wanted to seem like a dutiful husband. He didn’t- she’d kept the first time a secret from him because he’d been out of town. And when she tried to tell him, he said I was being difficult, then he made me eat it whilst she told her friends everything was fine. I only survived because she snuck in with my EpiPen.”

“Oh kid,” Dave said, chilled to the bone.

He shook his head. “I knew, realistically, that nobody would say anything, but I just couldn’t shake the memory of being told that if I was going to waste food, then I didn’t deserve it.”

“Aaron, that’s not-”

“I know that. Now at least. Thanks for not reacting weirdly. Or thinking less of me.”

“Agent Hotchner- are you still esquire, oh it doesn’t matter, esquire- nothing would ever make me think less of you. Especially not this. It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault, and I know it’s easy for me to see, but I need you to know that.”

Aaron gave him a slight smile, eyes watering. “Thank you Dave.”

“I do have one question though. Where the fuck was your EpiPen?”

He made a sound, one that Dave was not going to dignify by actually naming in his head.

“That didn’t sound like an answer young man,” he teased.

Aaron sighed. “It- okay. My blazer pockets weren’t big enough to fit it, and I figured strawberries isn’t exactly a common thing, so it would be fine if I left it in the car, but then I didn’t want to say anything, and then I passed out before I could- oh.”

“What?”

“Did everyone see me collapse?”

Dave considered lying, but Aaron had bared his soul to him. He owed him this small piece of honesty. “Yes, but they also witnessed me running like a headless chicken to get to the phone and Erin completely freaking out, so it’s all okay. I promise.”

Aaron nodded, not fully convinced. “Thank you. For caring.”

And one day, Dave would teach him that caring was what people did for each other. That it wasn’t something he had to earn, or something that would be snatched away at the smallest transgression. He would teach him that the love he had always deserved but never been shown was going to come from more than just Haley. It was going to come from every single good person he knew.

But in that moment, he just leant over and ruffled his hair. And maybe the gesture was paternal, but he could live with that.

“Mrs Hotchner’s been waiting for you all to arrive,” the receptionist said the moment they came through the doors. Aaron relaxed at the mention of his wife.

“You can send her in as soon as we go in. He’s been treated, we’re just keeping him for observation,” the paramedic said. The receptionist nodded and turned to one of their colleagues, who immediately got up.

Dave hung around as they got him situated, wondering when would be an appropriate time to leave. He didn’t want to step on Haley’s toes, or make her feel like she wasn’t trusted, but he also didn’t really want to leave either of them. Not if the real timeline matched the one he’d created in his head. She would have just been a child too, but children always believed that they needed to save everyone and anything less was a failure. He didn’t know how to say that their job was to be a child, and it was on the adults to keep them safe without patronising the two of them.

So he sat instead, keeping Aaron company until he was no longer needed.

Haley came rushing in the moment she was allowed to, her eyes slightly red. They must have told her how severe the situation was, and Dave felt guilty for making her panic so much, when Aaron was doing much better already.

“Baby, they told me what happened. How are you feeling? Is your heartbeat erratic? Is there anything you need?” she asked, not even acknowledging Dave. He wasn’t offended though. The love Haley had for her husband was the most fierce thing he’d witnessed, and now he understood. She’d spent her entire life defending him and the love she had for him.

He shook his head, then grinned at her. “Kiss me?” he asked, and for a moment, he was just a normal man, so in love with his wife it physically hurt to witness.

“I shouldn’t- me and Jess had strawberry margaritas before we got the phone call. She’s coming round tomorrow to check on you herself by the way,” Haley said, brushing his hair off his head with a smile.

Aaron nodded. “I’d expect nothing less. Oh Haley, this is Dave. And Dave, this is Haley.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Dave said.

“You too. So, what happened? Because you told me it was just a function, and then when I got home, there was a message from the hospital that you were being brought in for anaphylactic shock which doesn’t make any sense because you don’t eat strawberries anymore!” Haley said.

Aaron had the decency to look away. “I didn’t want to cause a scene so I ate this slice of strawberry cheesecake. And I thought it would be fine- well not fine, don’t look at me like that. I thought I’d be able to last till I got home. I’m sorry.”

“Baby, I’m not angry, don’t worry,” Haley said, taking his hand. “Just do what the doctors say, okay? And please don’t eat strawberries anymore just to be polite.”

“I’m afraid I may have made it worse,” Dave confessed, needing them to know, even though it had not been intentional, by any stretch of the imagination.

“What do you mean? How?” Haley asked. Aaron lifted his arm enough to signal that he had the same question.

“I switched our plates when they got given to us so Aaron had the bigger slice. It also had a whole strawberry on it, instead of just half a slice. Maybe if I hadn’t done that, his reaction would have been less severe. I’m sorry.”

Haley, in spite of, or maybe because of that single comment, started laughing. Aaron just watched her laugh with a smile on his face like he had never seen something so beautiful, and he probably never had. Dave watched them, confusion across his features.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny. It’s just- Dave you have nothing to apologise for. He was always going to have a reaction. And given that he didn’t even have his EpiPen-”

“It was in the car,” Aaron said, not quite whining but definitely getting close.

“Didn’t have his EpiPen,” Haley said, like Aaron hadn’t even spoken, “it was probably always going to end like this. I’m just laughing because you sound like such a parent. Like switching slices is something my dad did for me and Jess when we were little. It’s cute.”

Aaron looked to Dave, fearful and hopeful all at once.

“What can I say? Erin and I need to make sure someone keeps an eye on him,” he said. There were a lot of things in his life he wasn’t proud of. There were lots of mistakes he had made. But this? Being considered Aaron’s parent? It would never be one of them.

Aaron smiled at him, the light in his eyes returning. Haley nodded her approval. When the nurse came in a few minutes later to check Aaron’s vitals, the silence felt comfortable and natural, as though they had already become attuned to the others’ needs.

“Are you two going to be okay?” Dave asked. Someone needed to tell Erin that he was okay, and he really wanted to go to bed. He realised that he hadn’t even considered trying to salvage his date with Anya. He supposed they could always reschedule. Besides, Aaron was more important now.

Haley nodded. “Yeah, I’ll drive us home, make sure he takes a bath and have him back and safe with you on Monday, don’t worry.”

Dave stood up and started heading towards the door. “Oh don’t worry too much about rushing back to us. I’m sure we’ll survive. His cute butt will be missed, but we’ll make it through.”

Haley snorted. “Aaron didn’t I say that there was no way people hadn’t noticed?”

Aaron did not reply, but he did glare at both of them.

Dave smiled. Just before he left, he hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not it was the time and the place. But he just couldn’t resist. “So are there any other allergies we need to be aware of? Shellfish, pollen, nuts? Pretty ladies that want you to call them back?”

“Dave!” Aaron said, and this time it was definitely a whine.

He just smiled, leaving Aaron and Haley in the hospital room. Had it been a normal event? No. But he wouldn’t trade the night for anything in the world. After all, he had just found a whole new family. And he couldn’t wait for Haley to meet Erin. The two of them would definitely cause Hotcher a whole new level of embarrassment.

It was going to be the messiest and most random family to exist, but a family nonetheless.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #david rossi #haley hotchner #erin strauss #hotch x haley #tw child abuse #tw alcohol #tw anaphylaxis #tw allergies #tw child death #tw hospitals #guys i finally did it #tw food #sumayyah writes cm

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