#and since it wound up being after they had to change the scene because reid was too happy in it lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spacedikut · 4 years ago

Text

risks ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “Hi! Do you take requests?? If you do, can I please request a Spencer x Reader (Including the BAU), where they are dating and the reader is a year or so younger than spencer, but just as smart and very loved by the team, and one day she has to save the team from an unsub and gets really hurt and after everyone is safe they are all really worried about her?? Idk if that made sense at all. Love you work!” 2898 words

a/n: do i know anything about bombs or surgery or post-op procedures? No. did i still have a lot of fun writing this? Yes . i hope you like it! this specific request has been sent to multiple fic writers which i didn’t know until i’d already written and posted BUT the good thing is every writer is different so every request will be approached differently

masterlist

“No.”

“Hotch-“

“I said, no.”

“My girlfriend is stuck in there with a psychopath, Hotch! I can’t leave her in there!”

“I know, Reid. But I need you out here, alive, rather in there, dead.”

Spencer glares, “She could be dead in there for all we know.”

Emily winces from behind Spencer. Hotch stands, hands on hips, trying to think logically despite the situation, “We can’t afford to think like that.”

“He has a bomb! He-he-“

“Reid.” Hotch says, tone authoritive to show he’s playing unit chief and not old friend Hotch, “I need your head in this. We need to profile him to figure out the best way to negotiate – we can’t do that if you keep threatening to act irrationally.”

Spencer scoffs. Derek steps forward and pulls Spencer aside to talk him down from the metaphorical ledge he’s standing on. He’s one second away from running right into that abandoned building that everyone had just evacuated, bar you, and straight into the arms of the man who now has you hostage with a bomb ready to be detonated whenever he pleases.

Hotch already tried calling and negotiating. The man scoffed, voice gruff, and rumbled, “Either I get what I want, or both me and the pretty agent are getting blown to bits.”

In hindsight, they should’ve been more prepared.

Storming the abandoned warehouse, the team expected to find the remnants of a crime scene – they profiled the warehouse was the base of operations for the unsub, a place for him to store all his supplies, and because it had made the news that the FBI were on the case, they assumed he would’ve started running the second he felt them closing in.

He didn’t. He’s ready to go down with his ship, and you’re the unfortunate one that found him. And his homemade bomb.

Derek found the bomb-making equipment. He shouted in his comm for everyone to evacuate, and Spencer realised the second he stepped outside that you were not there. And you hadn’t responded to any calls after stepping into the building.

All it took was one call from the too proud unsub for them to realise your life is in the balance and for Reid to stop thinking rationally.

Spencer should’ve gone with you. He knows you can handle yourself, you’ve saved his ass enough times, but if he’d just.. followed you instead of JJ. Maybe you’d both be in there, or, even better, out here. Alive. Safe. No hostage situation in sight.

Suddenly, several shots ring out.

The team ducks behind their SUVs, Hotch having to drag Spencer down when he doesn’t react, just in case he decides to run straight in.

“It wasn’t the bomb!” Derek calls across, their heads beginning to pop up from behind the vehicles.

Spencer breaks free from Hotch’s grip and sprints into the warehouse. Bomb be damned, there were exactly six shots fired – the exact amount you have in your revolver.

Also the exact amount he has in his revolver.

“Go! Go!” Hotch shouts. The team all charge after Spencer, separating and flowing through the hallways and doorways of the warehouse – there’s this sense of dread running through all of them. There’s something so unique to the panic you feel when someone so close to you, someone so dear, is the one in danger.

There’s a screech from the back of the warehouse. It’s filled with agony, anguish and unadulterated pain – loud enough to reach every nook and cranny of the premises.

“I need a medic!”

Spencer’s throat burns from the tormented yell that leaped from his throat when he found you. There’s so much blood, and it takes Spencer longer than it should to find where your wounds are: two shots to the stomach, one too close to your lungs for comfort.

Although, none of this is comforting. Your eyes are closed.

The unsub is dead. The team looks around the room and easily pieces everything together: you both shot at the same time. You were able to give fatal hits and Spencer refuses to let the hits you got become deadly too.

They spare little to no attention to the bomb – the bomb squad stampede in and analyse it. Their focus is you, if you’re breathing and if the blood has stopped and how weak your pulse is.

It’s too weak. Spencer chokes on a sob above your body.

“Spence, you gotta move,” Derek’s voice is gentle despite the chaos around them, two medics taking Spencer’s place when Derek pulls him away.

“She-she- I can’t-“

“I know, kid, I know. We have to let them take care of her.”

The team is frozen around you as a stretcher is brought it. You’re being given oxygen, the medics are frantically shouting all kinds of things that Spencer doesn’t register – he follows behind you, shoulders slumped and cheeks wet, scanning you from head to toe constantly to see some display of life within you.

Hotch tells him to ride with you to the hospital. He doesn’t bother sparing the team a glance – he needs to keep his eyes on you because if he doesn’t he’s terrified you’ll disappear and he’ll never see you again and never hear your voice and never get to hear you say “I love you” ever again.

He’s terrified.

+++

You’ve been in surgery for hours.

Spencer’s still covered in your blood. He sits next to Derek, who just force-fed him half a granola bar, leg bouncing while he bites his nails.

The whole team is waiting impatiently. Hotch hasn’t sat down once, JJ has been on the phone to Will and Henry several times so she doesn’t go crazy, and everyone has been taking laps around the hospital to burn off some… fear? Apprehension? Just to do something?

Penelope broke several driving laws to get here. She came in, makeup smeared all over her face and hiccupping as Derek caught her when she approached them and collapsed. It took her an hour and a half to calm down.

“Reid.”

Spencer doesn’t move.

“Reid, kid.”

Derek nudges him. He looks up, lips chapped and bitten raw, and looks at Rossi who holds his to-go bag.

“You should change.” Rossi says, a warm smile on his face as he speaks quietly.

Spencer stares at the bag, then his shirt and sweater vest. He nearly vomits – your blood is everywhere. It’s dried now, a testament to how long you’ve been on that table, and he feels himself getting choked up all over again. He wishes he could help you. He wishes this wasn’t happening.

The guilt sinks in.

If he’d stayed with you. If he’d followed you. If he’d found you a little earlier. If they’d realised who the unsub was quicker. If they’d come to the warehouse more prepared.

Maybe you’d be here. Maybe it would be him on the operating table. God, he wishes it was him.

He needs you alive. He needs you.

“C’mon, Spence,” JJ whispers. She can’t speak any louder or she’ll cry. She takes the bag from Rossi, gingerly takes Spencer’s hand and pulls him towards the toilet just a little way away.

She opens the door and holds it open for him, gesturing with her head for him to go in.

“It’ll take you five minutes. I’ll be right here.”

He sniffles and nods, a tear sliding down his cheek, and heads in.

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they hear the lock of the door.

Spencer hasn’t moved since he got to the hospital and you were hurried away straight into surgery. Your eyes opened in the ambulance and Spencer could only cry harder – you used every last bit of strength you had to grip Spencer’s hand and passed out again.

He hasn’t spoken, either. No one can blame him. But changing clothes, cleaning your blood from his hands and forearms and it’s somehow on his neck, that’s progress. It’s about as good as they’ll get until there’s an update on you.

Spencer slumps back out of the toilet, walking clumsily towards his friends with his head facing the floor. The room is too bright, his eyes are beginning to sting from crying, and his heart is hurting because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. All of it is giving him a headache.

You know how to help him with his headaches. You always know how to help him. You.

There’s movement from the large doors next to Spencer. A doctor comes out, looking frazzled and still in scrubs, and says, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

They all stare.

“She’s stable.”

Penelope lets out a verbal gasp and a “Thank God,”, both Emily and JJ’s heads fall in their hands in disbelief and even Hotch’s head falls back as he lets out a sigh of relief.

Derek’s hand grips Spencer’s shoulder. He’s too shocked to say anything.

“Can we see her?” Derek asks. He knows Spencer will want to see her the second he can, and he’ll spend every moment with her until she’s fully healed.

The doctor gives a pitiful grimace, “Only one at a time, unfortunately. These next twenty-four hours are vital and we don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“I have to see her.” Comes Spencer’s voice, weak and fragile as he still chews his thumb.

Hotch nods, “Of course. Spencer, you stay with her and we’ll come back later.”

He then nods towards the rest of the team and they all filter out slowly, all acknowledging Spencer in one way or another – Penelope kisses his head, Derek and Rossi give his shoulder a squeeze, JJ, Emily and Hotch tell him to text them if he needs anything.

He knows they don’t want to leave, but Spencer would fight every single one of them if any even tried to see you before he could. He needs to see you for himself. Needs to see you breathe.

“Follow me, sir,” The doctor says, “She might look a little off-putting – she had more injuries than we thought. But she’s steady and strong, so we’re confident she’ll make it through.”

She gestures towards your room. Spencer nods and gives a tight lipped smile, mumbling, “Thank you.”

When the door’s pushed open, Spencer chokes on a cry.

He remembers the only time he was shot: that one time in the leg. It wasn’t much. It was a shock to the system, but ultimately he was fine. He’s come to love the scar thanks to you - you’ve placed plenty of kisses on it for him to see it and instantly think of you and the love you bring.

Which is exactly why he can’t lose you. He loves you too much and he knows you love him and he’s never been so sure of anything or anyone in his life until you and he swears to God if you’re taken from him-

He takes a deep breath, pulling the chair towards your bed as close as possible as he moves to interlock his fingers with yours and grip tightly.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

+++

Penelope is the first to visit. She waddles in, flowers, chocolates, a card, a cuddly bear and some food for the good doctor in her arms. When she walks in she realises Spencer is knocked out in the chair next to you. She’s not surprised; she didn’t want to leave you, but Spencer needed to be with you.

She pokes him gently. And again, when he doesn’t respond.

He jumps awake, immediately going to rub his neck that is stiff after spending hours at an awkward angle.

“Morning, handsome,” Penelope smiles. She hands him the food she brought and, after sparing a glance to your sleeping form, he takes the bag and digs in.

“Thank you,” He says quietly. Penelope looks at you.

“How is she?”

“Not bad. She hasn’t gotten worse, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Penelope leans over and presses a kiss to your head, “She’s a boss. She’ll be up and at it before you know it.”

Spencer pauses in his eating and watches you, feeling nothing but love and pride, and his lower lip began to quiver. He clears his throat and looks away.

His eyes have been rubbed raw from Spencer trying to stop his tears and from trying to stay awake all night, just in case you woke up. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep.

Derek appears then.

“Hey, you two,” He’s also carrying flowers and a cuddly bear (the team knows you so well – the way to your heart is stereotypical gifts). He gives Penelope a side hug and shoots Spencer a nod, “How you feeling, pretty boy?”

He rubs his eyes, “I’m awesome.”

Derek chuckles, “Uhuh.”

He looks at you, then, and his smile becomes tighter. Penelope grips his arm and tugs him towards her, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“You two look cosy.”

All attention is snapped to you: half lidded, voice coarse, lips dry. Spencer drops the bag of food.

“Hi, pretty,” He grins, eyes filling with tears again when he stands and leans towards you on your bed. God, what do you do to him?

His forehead rests against yours and you close your eyes in comfort. His smell fills you, all familiar and oh so welcome after whatever the hell you went through. Your whole body aches, breathing feels strange and almost unknown, and you’re acutely aware of the tubes in your nose.

Spencer pulls back suddenly, eyes jerking open, and grabs some water for you, “Here, drink.”

You do as he says, gulping it down and gulping down a second and third cup.

“I’ll get the nurse,” Penelope says, having to tear her eyes away from you because you’re awake and it fills her with so much happiness to see you okay.

After a quick visit from the nurse, you’re told you have to stay for a further few days and you pout at the thought. No one likes hospitals. No one likes being stuck in a hospital.

The whole team arrives and Derek and Penelope offer to go meet them to catch them up on everything before they come in. Everyone knows it’s really so you and Spencer have a second alone.

The second the door closes, Spencer kisses you. It’s eager and full of angst. You wish you could wrap your arms around him and pull him in tight, but everything hurts. So that’ll have to wait.

“You had me so worried,” Spencer gasps, forehead against yours and hands cupping your face, “So, so worried.”

“My apologies,” You giggle. It hurts to do it, but Spencer makes you so happy, even in a dreary hospital. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” He smiles. He feels like all the tension has evaporated from his body - you’re here, you’re okay, you’re awake, you’re as perfect as ever. “You had everyone scared.”

“I have fans?”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at you. You just woke up from being shot and going through a long surgery, and you’re joking around?

He loves you so much.

Your arm slowly moves up to loosely hold his wrist. Your eyes look glassy, suddenly.

“I love you, Spence.” You breathe, “My first thought when I got shot was I’d never be able to say that to you again. I love you so, so much.”

Spencer grips your face tighter and pulls your lips back to his. There’s so much passion in the kiss; he wants to tell you he loves you every second of every day for the rest of his life, and he’s trying to show that.

Now you’re here, he can do that. Thank God he can do that.

“I love you too. So much. I’ve never been as scared as I was when I found you, I-“ He gets choked up again, “If you ever do something like that again, we will have issues I swear to God Y/N-“

“Kiss me again you idiot,” You say, all smiles.

When the whole team roll in, Spencer is perched on the very edge of your bed, hand in yours, thumb rubbing back and forth. They all smile at you, holding various gifts that get you very excited, and tell you how glad they are you’re okay.

Derek’s brows furrow, pointing at your heart monitor, “Now what happened while we were gone, cuties?”

Everyone looks towards the monitor, where your heartbeat is still high from kissing and being close to Spencer after being scared you’d never be able to again.

You and Spencer blush, “I’m just very happy to see my team.” You say, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek smirks at you both, “Just couldn’t keep your hands off eachother, huh?”

Spencer sputters, “It would be so inappropriate to do anything like that in a hospital, Morgan! Actually, hospitals…”

As Spencer rambles on, you scan the room and find yourself tearing up. You feel so cared for and loved, surrounded by the people you consider family and holding the hand of the love of your life. You’re so lucky, you realise, despite the situation that led to this, to have such amazing people so close.

You move and lean your head against Spencer’s shoulder and, mid-sentence, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

It’s an honour to be so loved by such lovely people.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #mine #god does this suck?#man i feel like it sucks

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

infirmity.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part four of our 100 arc, covering 5x02, haunted! I forgot how much i love this episode, so i really leaned into this one. it’s a labor of love!! i can’t wait to hear what you all think (i crave feedback and affection) and if you reblog, i’d love to see your cheeky lil thoughts in the tags!!

words: 4.3k warnings: language, bad decisions

summary: “a friend should bear his friend’s infirmities” - william shakespeare, julius caesar.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on the door at 8:30 sharp. Almost thirty seconds pass before he answers, and you note the hand on his holster as he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you chirp. “Ready to go?”

He turns, gathering his things. “What do we know about this case in Kentucky?”

Thrown a little by the lack of greeting, you follow him into the apartment. The sight of the Foyet files on his desk aren’t foreign to you, nor are they a surprise. They’ve been there every time you came over during his leave (in fact, you’ve sat on them more than once), so why you expected them to go away once he was back you had no idea.

“Um, no connection between Call and his victims. They’re canvassing, but no sign of him so far.”

“Start with his recent history. Find the stressor.” His voice is flat, impassive, and you frown.

He was just getting better…

You’re about to head back toward the door when -

“Don’t move.”

Right. The alarm.

He stands by to arm it. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

+++

You arrive at the tarmac, Hotch in the passenger seat of your car. He looks a little resigned, but straightens and takes a breath before he opens the door, settling into his role as he steps out and straightens his suit jacket.

It’s always a little funny to watch him transform. You’re honored you get to see it, even if he’s in rough shape.

Especially then.

You climb the stairs and follow him in, settling in your usual place.

“Good to see you,” Dave says as Aaron scoots down the aisle. It makes you smile.

“You, too.”

Aaron gets settled and you shift, trying not to hover but finding it difficult to be separated from him after his weeks of absence. He greets the rest of the team, exchanging pleasantries and checking in with Reid about his knee.

“Any other attacks?”

JJ shakes her head, while Spencer elaborates. “Call’s proven hard to track. He’s never had a driver's license so he’s probably still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” Emily notes.

You hum. “He wouldn’t take the bus. His face is everywhere.”

“Has anyone found a stressor?” You weren’t sure if Aaron’s brusque affect was going to continue once you made it to the plane, but his tone just about answers your question.

Stepping back into authority quickly, there, Aaron.

“He just lost his job,” Garcia supplies. “He’s worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”

Derek tilts his head. “That’s a long time to be bitter.”

“Or he doesn’t care?”

JJ looks at Spencer and shakes her head. “Not if he’s got a family to feed.”

“Actually, he’s of the hermit variety as far as I can tell. He’s got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.” You watch Garcia’s eyes flicker around the screen as she talks to you, doing what she does best.

“Nothing to live for.” Derek’s looking a little too pointedly at Aaron for your taste, but your evaluation is interrupted.

“So why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

Your brain sputters at Aaron’s offhand delivery. “What?”

“Sprees usually end in suicide. If he’s got nothing to live for, why hasn’t he ended it?”

The energy in the room grows uncomfortable, fast. Aaron’s voice is still flat - you might go so far as to say it sounds dead, but that inspires a kind of heavy sullenness in your chest you’d rather not subject yourself to.

You wish Haley was around for no other reason but to kick his ass.

You’re thankful for Spencer when he answers Hotch’s question. “Because he isn’t finished, yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim.”

“Well,” Aaron continues, “the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

You meet Derek’s eyes and you can tell he’s trying to read you - trying to see if you’re as concerned as he is. You don’t give him the satisfaction.

+++

Later, you corner Morgan on the plane before landing, keeping your voice low. The case is in your lap so there’s a valid distraction when you need one.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stops and turns. “I thought Hotch was cleared to drive.”

“He is.”

“Then why did you pick him up this morning?”

You shrug. “I wanted to.” His eyes bore into the side of your head and you look up with an exasperated huff. “What?”

He sighs. “He’s only had a month off.”

“Well,” you say, aware that you’re being pedantic before you even get there, “thirty-four days. That’s a little more than a month.”

His stare is withering, but you’re impervious. “And you think that’s long enough?”

“Are you asking me as his coworker or as his friend?”

“Is there a difference?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” Yes. “But if you don’t think he’s had enough time, you should tell him.”

He scoffs. “No thanks. I like my job.”

“You like him more.” A little smile crosses your face. “Though, I know you don’t like to think so.”

“No. I like you.” Derek corrects. “He also happens to like you, so I tolerate him for your benefit.”

“Much appreciated.” You return to your work, but Derek’s eyes linger. You don’t look up as you ask, “What?”

“What if he has PTSD?”

Still writing, you answer with a general air of nonchalance. “He was evaluated.”

“Oh, come on. We wrote those questions. Hotch knows exactly -“

You slam your pen down and lean back with your arms crossed. You draw Spencer's eyes and lower your voice again. “So, what? Are you going to pick at me until you get me to say something you want me to say?” You let out a sardonic chuff, settling back to work. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna be here a while.” You tip your head a little toward the little table by the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

You admittedly feel a little bad for being short with him, but everything seems to be testing your patience today.

And if you’re honest, you’re worried about Aaron, too.

After a few minutes of work in silence, you call out to him again. There’s the smallest of apologies in your voice. “Derek?”

He looks at you, dark eyes open and yielding - concerned and forgiving. “Yeah?”

“He’s back because he has to be. He needs to know we’re here for him.”

“He knows that.”

You offer him a small smile. “Don’t let him forget it.” You pause, your head wavering a little bit as your tone turns a touch facetious. “I can’t do all the heavy lifting around here.”

You get a laugh out of him - just a little one - and it’s enough. “Don’t push it, kid. I remember when you were dead weight.”

You roll your eyes.

That’s enough, for now.

+++

Even your seemingly-endless patience with Aaron rapidly wanes as you spend more time at the crime scene. It’s frustrating.

“He was on an antipsychotic?” You ask with a little frown.

The pharmacist nods. “Well, that’s why I wanted him to calm down. He’s been off of them at least a month, now.”

“And when were you going to tell us this?” Aaron asks, harsh and sharp.

You look at him, your frown deepening.

What the fuck is that attitude?

“He’s armed, he’s delusional. Who’s his doctor?” Hotch’s tone grows even pointier, somehow, as he pushes harder.

“I don’t remember - my computer…” She gestures behind the desk, where the computer has been fried by a bullet.

“Great. That’s great.” He walks away, already making a call.

“Excuse us,” you say in an attempt to recover. Derek echoes you and you try to avoid running after Hotch as he strides down the aisle.

Long-legged asshole. Slow down.

“Hotch,” you call. He doesn’t listen.

“Call JJ and tell her about the meds.” He’s still walking. You’ve caught up.

Derek chimes in, gesturing back at the pharmacist. “This is not her fault.”

Aaron turns on him. “Morgan, he’s in a psychotic break. It changes everything.”

“You want to talk about this?” Derek asks, taking another step closer.

Squaring up to Derek’s shoulder, you’re ready to pull them apart if they get really heated.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

In some ways, Morgan’s admission on the plane was truer than he let on. You are the link between Derek and Aaron, almost like a balm. You see things in them that they can’t see in each other. It helps.

With a pang, you think of Haley, for some reason.

You miss her.

“No.” Aaron’s interruption is sharp and it startles you out of your thoughts. “I want to find him - Garcia,” he turns, continuing on his warpath forward, “he’s been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?”

Your mouth drops open and Derek’s about to deck Aaron while his back is turned. You push in front of Derek, getting between them to give him a chance to cool off. The last thing you want is to handle more wound dressings - for either one of them.

Aaron hangs up and walks out after what you imagine is a rather unilluminating update from Penelope. You turn, putting your hand on Derek’s shoulder and looking him in the eye.

Still think he’s alright? His eyes ask.

You grit your teeth. I don’t know.

+++

The psychiatrist and patient lay dead on the floor, Call nowhere in sight. Derek directs the local officers to check the perimeter, just in case.

You look at Hotch, who still doesn’t look completely checked in, himself.

Or maybe he looks too checked in?

I don’t know.

You’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t freak you out. Though he’s standing beside you, you miss him.

Come back to me.

You miss the man who pliantly sat under your hands as you washed his wounds and brought him takeout and forced him to take naps in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.

You miss the man who fought you for the remote and stole far too many of your fries, who would change the channel if you made the mistake of going to the bathroom on a commercial break.

That man was with you as late as Saturday. Returning has brought something else out in him, the part of him that spent (often very) late nights looking for Foyet has risen to the forefront.

“We’re too late.”

Before the rest of you can do anything, Aaron leaves the room, pushing past Dave in his haste to leave.

Emily calls after him, but he’s long gone down the hallway. They look at you.

All you can do is shake your head with a downturned curve of your mouth.

+++

After a little while, you go downstairs and find Hotch outside. Before you can say anything -

“I should have seen the blinking on the video.”

You huff at him. “Hotch, it could have been a nervous tic. You couldn’t have known - none of the records were available, yet.”

“But it wasn’t a tic. It’s a classic sign of long-term antipsychotic use, and I missed it.”

You step in front of him, squarely meeting his eyes. “We all missed it.”

He’s got another pessimistic jab that you choose to ignore just before Emily and Dave arrive with news from Garcia.

Oh, Aaron.

+++

The officer huffs. “I don’t care why he took him.”

Aaron had, once again, escalated the situation with local police. Tensions are high, and you only hope he can get his shit together at some point. “You should.”

Goddamn it, Aaron.

He continues, advancing on the police captain. “Call’s memory is no longer suppressed. He’s reinventing his past and unless we understand how, we’re not going to find either of them.”

“Well, I’m not gonna just sit around and speculate.”

It’s an old-fashioned Western standoff, now.

Who’s Clint Eastwood?

Well, Hotch has the looks but -

Quit.

Fine.

“Then don’t.”

The captain turns to you, Emily, and Dave. “You don’t think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Dave answers evenly.

The captain looks at Aaron once more before storming off. The rest of you approach Hotch, and Emily’s a little frustrated when she reminds him, “There’s a kid missing.”

“They don’t need the extra manpower.”

You squint at him. “Since when?”

“If we had studied Foyet’s initial crimes -”

Oh for the love of fuck.

“- we would have known that a survivor didn’t make sense.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

Great question, Emily.

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet’s history. But we didn’t, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. I am not making that mistake again.” He leaves the three of you stunned in his wake. After a moment, you follow him.

You always do.

+++

“Let’s go.”

You’ve got the address to the unsub’s home and you take the car with Aaron, the rest of the team following behind you.

He drives fast, but that’s nothing new. He throws the siren and floors it. You call SWAT yourself, getting Derek prepared for staging.

When you get out of the car, you throw your vest on, helping Emily with the straps across her shoulders before she can reach them themselves.

“Prentiss,” Aaron says, putting his earwig in. “Check in with the lieutenant, see if there’s anything we can use.”

She nods. “Yes, sir.”

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You throw your head to the side, and he takes your flank as you get closer to Emily. Her briefing with this particular lieutenant could go sideways, but you don’t want to leave him feeling trapped.

“...The kid’s in there. We got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. He’s still focused on the old man.”

Emily squints, adjusting her comm. “For now, but we’re gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I’ve got a team in the back and one on the way. We’re going to infiltrate.”

“You do that and someone else dies.” The balance of firm and collaborative rests delicately on her tone. She’s doing well.

“Either Call or a child murder. Flip a coin.”

His tone frustrates you, but you leave Emily to her devices, checking your magazines for the third time. Your sidearm is in place, as is your backup.

“It doesn’t have to end like that. We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” She pauses, and a streak of white flashes in your peripheral. “Hotch!”

You whirl, ready to sprint after him as he walks decisively past the rest of you, past the gate, and into the house. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a break for it. A wall of arms stops you, and you know Derek’s behind you when you hear, “What the hell is he doing?”

No vest...Is he even carrying his gun?

“Let him go.”

You turn on Dave, your face plastered with fear and fury. “What do you mean let him go. Rossi -”

“I’m not letting him go in there solo.” Derek pushes against Dave again, but to your surprise, he’s locked in tight.

“We have to trust him.”

That cools Derek off, but not you. You thrash, freeing yourself from one of the local cops. “The hell we do.”

“Kid - wait, no.” The roles reverse, and Derek catches up to you and locks you in his arms before you can breach the perimeter. Your elbows don’t land against his vest, but you sure try. “You’ll get him killed.”

There’s only stress and silence as you stop struggling. All you can do is wait.

Derek keeps his arm around you, but you almost feel like the contact is for both of you. You take deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate. It’s through the roof.

“What’s he doing?” Emily asks into her mic.

Dave leans into his comm. “Stalling.”

You can almost feel Derek’s jaw tightening. “He has nothing to lose.”

He has everything to lose.

You have everything to lose.

Don’t be a hero, Aaron. Don’t do anything stupid.

You hope that he can hear you somehow.

Too late.

Hotch appears in the window, followed by the boy.

There’s a quick SWAT conversation in your ear.

“Do you have the shot?”

“Negative, negative.”

He’s blocking the shot.

Goddamn you, Aaron. Goddamn you.

“Bringing the boy out,” a faceless voice on the radio says. The hostage runs down off the porch and you catch a glimpse of Aaron before he disappears behind the door again.

You turn your head a touch, keeping your eyes on the door. “Get him out of there.”

Dave shakes his head. “That’s his call.”

Your body is wound tighter than a coil and you’re not sure if you’re ready to storm in there or just start walking home.

There’s a gunshot, and you’re out of there like a bat out of hell. You launch yourself over the short fence and attach yourself to the first SWAT agent you see, remembering your training at the last moment.

You breach the house and find Aaron cuffing Darin, whose father is dead in the armchair in front of him. Your jaw has never been tighter.

Once you confirm that he is in fact still alive and still only has nine holes in him, you turn on your heel and you storm out of the house. You don’t stop until you’re leaning on the front of one of the cars, trying to catch your breath. Your hands shake and you don’t trust your knees to hold you up.

The relief wars with something hot and unpleasant, leaving you more exhausted than you’ve been in weeks.

You keep your head turned away from Aaron as he approaches you. It’s petty, but you also don’t want him to see the fear on your face.

He calls you with a sigh in his voice and it finally ignites the fear into anger.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you spit. Your voice isn’t loud, but it certainly carries. JJ’s eyes flicker to you from the other side of the yard. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

His jaw tightens. “Let’s not do this here.”

Your brow draws across your eyes and your mouth opens, indignant. “Let’s not do this here? You’re fucking kidding me.”

In his current state, nothing is off the table. His temper is running short and you know you’re capable of pushing him until he breaks. It hasn’t happened yet, but today might be it.

Much to your surprise, a sigh leaves him, and he knows he’s stepped in it. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

His remorse only stokes your anger. Go figure.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry. You could have died, Hotch. What you did was so beyond protocol I don’t even know if I should start with the necessity of your life because we need you as our unit chief or the importance of your safety as my friend -” You cut yourself off and look away from him, frustrated you even got that far.

He has nothing to say to that. You’re completely right. The guilt might as well be written across his face in Sharpie.

His absence fucked with you, to say the least. It felt awful, empty, in the field without him. And then when you were home - well, back at the apartment, he was only ever in pain.

Overall, your anxiety regarding his health and safety is riding high.

Much to your frustration, your eyes water, and your lower lip shakes - angry tears an ever-present threat. Your arms cross over your chest. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

He reaches out for your arm, but you throw him off before he can make contact, turning your head. You stare at the ground, watching him flounder out of the corner of your eye.

“Go. Go do your fucking job, Hotch.” His nickname is acid in your mouth. It feels like a punishment, a lash of a whip. He doesn’t move, and you turn on him, meeting his guilty brown eyes with your flinty ones. “Go. Make the arrest. They’re waiting on you.” You throw your chin to Derek and Emily, who are indeed waiting for him on the porch with the unsub.

With another heavy sigh, he turns and rejoins the rest of your team.

You stay where you are, directing coroner and local law enforcement personnel to relevant staging areas as the crime scene is processed and handled. Aaron’s eyes try to find yours, but you avoid them, focusing on someone, anyone else with crisp professionalism that hardly belies your fear.

You’ve never been so angry in your life. Even if you have, you can’t remember it feeling this wretched.

+++

He sits beside you on the plane once you’re up in the air and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The rest of the team sleeps scattered around the cabin, but you suspect that at least one of them is faking it, waiting for some kind of spectacle or spectacular blowup between the two of you.

You haven’t spoken to Aaron since leaving the crime scene. You drove back to the precinct with Emily and Dave, staying close to JJ and Spencer while you packed your things. There’s a part of you that feels bad for creating what Strauss would call a “hostile work environment,” but the other part can’t bring itself to care.

You can’t even begin to articulate the fear that coursed through you as you waited for him outside that house. You couldn’t begin to explain the extent of your fear, but after the stabbing and the removal of Haley and Jack from your lives, the prospect of losing him in the field was beyond unbearable.

It’s frustrating to feel so comforted by his proximity while you’re still so angry with him. The familiarity of it all hardly blunts your anger. If anything, the relief at having him back at your side sharpens your anger into something that scares you.

The impossibility of it is beyond measure. You’ve known for some time now, but this is the first you’re willing to admit it.

I love him.

Fuck.

You love him. You love his son. You love his wife.

You love the weird look he gets on his face when he has to say “penetration” while he’s delivering a profile. You love the way he tries not to smile when Emily beats Spencer at chess. You love the way he twiddles with pens when he’s thinking or nervous or both. You love that each of his smiles feel like a gift just for you.

There’s nothing you don’t love about him.

Except, of course, the way he, with profound idiocy, endangered his life today for no particular reason in addition to his generally asshole-ish behavior.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m sure you know that.”

You do.

He waits on you, quiet and still.

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He nods, his jaw flexing.

“Don’t do it again.”

He blinks once, slowly. You know he can’t promise that, but you appreciate his acknowledgment nevertheless. There’s quiet for a moment.

“Aaron…” You look at him, nothing but concern in your tone.

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say…” You swallow, trying to find better words but coming up short. “We’ll get him.”

+++

Derek’s voice echoes down to the bullpen as you finish up the last few pieces of your paperwork. “I will not stand by and watch this man kill himself.”

Aaron’s door is closed as he works. You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if you’d rather he hear it. You can’t really hear Dave - not that you’d want to, you’re almost as pissed at him as you are at Aaron - but it doesn’t matter. You know what he has to say.

Derek’s voice drops lower than you can hear. Dave drops his head.

Moments later, Derek flies back down the stairs, grabs his jacket, and takes his leave with a cursory goodbye thrown in your direction. Dave returns to his desk and Aaron’s door finally opens.

You look up as his lights turn off, gathering your things at your desk. With a little sigh that looks a bit like defeat, he stops at your desk. The smugness doesn’t completely leave your tone. “Need a ride?”

Of course, he does. “Please.”

You rise and walk to the elevators together. In the silence, you tell him, “I’m still really mad at you.”

A sigh. “I know.”

+++

You walk him upstairs and take care of the alarm while he removes his suit jacket and throws it over the couch.

“Do you think Call’s gonna be okay?” You ask, still facing the alarm.

“I don’t know.”

“He got his answers,” you note, turning to him. “He killed the man who haunted him.”

His eyes are fixed on a spot on the carpet. “And what else is there?”

“Years of torture.” You both know you’re not talking about Call anymore, but it’s nice to pretend. It gives you the opportunity to say things you wouldn’t - shouldn’t - say to him. “Fear. Grief.”

“Think he’ll get over that?”

“How could he?” A humorless smile pulls at one corner of your mouth. “But at least he doesn't feel like he’s alone.”

He finally meets your eyes. “He doesn’t have anyone.” I don’t have anyone, his brow says.

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.”

You have me. You’re not alone.

His brows pull low over his eyes, and you take another opportunity as it comes. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?”

“No, I’m alright.” He takes a little breath and you round the corner, pouring him a couple fingers of whiskey before making a slow, purposeful trek across the room. “Thank you,” he says, taking it.

“Of course. Anytime.” Now, you both know you aren’t talking about the drink.

Nevertheless, you pat your pockets for your keys, phone, and various federal paraphernalia, finding them all where they belong. “I should head out, then. Call if you need anything.”

He nods, watching you with quiet eyes as you close and lock the door behind you.

+++

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eideticmemory · 4 years ago

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FINE LINE 3 | SPENCER REID

Two decades of history and two kids later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting. Part 3! Read Part 2 Here!

If you saw typos, no you didn’t ❤️

Word Count: 3,165.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, romance, drama, yay!

PART 3: EDEN

Eden Penelope Reid was conceived on the twenty-sixth of September, on a ugly, yellow couch in the BAU briefing room. Not two feet from the roundtable! You didn’t mean for it to happen. The sex . . . or the baby. But they were both the result of a dark, disturbing case, sleep deprivation, a long plane ride back to DC, and an encounter in a dark room after everyone had gone home.

Spencer placed a long and slimy kiss to your lips, almost like he had been holding it from you for days. You stepped back, jolted, and you would’ve fallen backwards had Spencer not had his arms around you.

“What on earth are you doing?” you whispered, your voice still laced with shock and surprise.

“Wha — what do you mean . . . ?” Spencer asked, genuine confusion plastered over that pretty face of his. “I thought that’s why we came in here?”

“Oh, my goodness, I came in here to grab my things and go home, Hugh Hefner, where is your mind?”

“My mind’s on you,” he murmured, nuzzling your body into his, pressing his lips to your cheek. “Always.”

“Hm,” you hummed, your eyes fluttering closed as he gave you a dreamy kiss. “You’ve always had that verbal thing . . . quick mind, soft lips. You could talk your way into anything, Spencer Reid.”

“Yeah?” he mumbled, his lips pressed feverishly to yours. “Anything?”

“Yeah . . . anything.”

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, surrounded by the scent of fresh lavender, you wrapped yourself in a cotton towel. Your outfit was laid across the bed, from the top to the pants to the black flats. It felt a little morbid, as if you were staring at a dress made for a funeral. But, God, let’s face it, you’re just being dramatic.

You tied your hair up, and dropped the towel to your toes, warmth caught under the surface. As you took your shirt between your fingers, your bedroom door swung open with an intense creak, and you jumped out of your skin.

“Ah!” You screamed, hugging the fabric against your body, crouching down to hide any and every inch of your figure. “Spencer!”

“Whoa!” He crowed, immediately backing out of the room. “Sorry!”

“What the hell?” You shouted. You hugged the shirt, pressing it to your chest, your torso, one arm outstretched to cover your legs.

“I’m sorry, [y/n], I thought you were dressed!”

“Yeah, right . . . pervert. What are you doing here? I’m meeting you at the office in an hour.”

“I told you I was dropping by in the morning.”

“So?”

“So . . . here I am.”

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you being somewhere when you say you are, my mistake.”

He shook his head to himself, chin ducked down to avert his eyes, “I came to ask if you’d like a ride this morning? After we drop the kids off?”

“A ride?” You responded, quickly dressing yourself to maneuver an icky, uncomfortable situation. “We’re carpooling to therapy?”

“If you want,” he shrugged. “Thought we could get breakfast, maybe.”

You scoffed, and rolled your eyes as you marched towards the door. Prepared to confront Spencer with a bit of sass and sarcasm, you were taken aback by the sight of him. Early in the morning, hair perfectly curled around his face, and he was dressed in a wrinkle-free, perfectly pressed black suit. Like the ones you used to buy for him, just to see the way he moved in them.

“I think I’ll pass,” you told him. “I told the kids I’d take them to school today, and they’ve already got their hearts set on getting Dunkin’ this morning, so . . .”

“So, I’ll see you at the office,” he nodded, solemnly.

You returned the nod with a gentle motion of your head, and as you turned to walk off, Spencer aligned beside you, ultimately following you through the hall. “You look good,” he said. You didn’t respond, just released a silent exhale while focusing your attention forward. “It’s nice to know that . . . some things are still as nice as I remember.”

You laughed -- head thrown back, mouth open, the sound erupting like a volcano. “It’s not,” you explained, looking him in the eye as you approached the stairs. “It’s better.”

Four weeks after Eden Penelope Reid was conceived, you were in Texas, a small town outside of Austin haunted by a head of murders throughout the area. You can’t remember specifically what the town was called because you were so, fucking, sick. You woke up with a headache, nausea threatening to spill by the second, and a stomach ache that wouldn’t kick it. It was bad.

But you know how to put on a Brave Face. You pushed through, even with your husband’s voice echoing in your ear, close to your ear, his worried hand on your back.

“[y/n],” he pleaded. “You’re sick, just — please.”

“Spencer, I’m fine. I’m up, I’m walking, that’s a good sign. I’m okay.”

You visited a crime scene not fifteen minutes later. It was hot, very hot, suffocatingly hot, and you felt yourself. You felt yourself wobble on your heels. Felt the life just fall out of you, like gravity had sucked it into the Earth. Spencer called your name as your body fell.

“Mom?” E called, the sound of the traffic blending in with her voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, hun,” you glanced at her, balancing your attention between E and the road. “Why?”

“You’ve been hitting your juul more than usual lately,” she explained.

“What?” you gasped. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have. You’re driving with it in your hand right now!”

“On average, mom hits the juul 16 times an hour, but she’s just hit it seven times in the last five minutes,” Em added from the backseat.

“There. Statistics to back me up,” E gloated.

“I’m fine!” you laughed. “Really. I’m more than fine.”

“Really? So the sudden nicotine uptake has nothing to do with your super secret meeting with dad this morning?” E asked.

“It is not a super secret meeting, it’s two parents, meeting for a discussion.”

“Right . . . not secret at all.” She nodded.

You sighed, “A secret is an awful thing to keep. You can ask your Aunt Emily about that one, but, you know I’d never keep a secret from you,” you smiled.

“Right,” she nodded, suspicious at your sudden change in tone. “You sure you’re not keeping a secret, mom?”

“Are you profiling me?”

“Okay, enough with the profiling jokes.”

“No. Why? Are you keeping a secret from me?” you piqued. It’s been buried. For almost a week now. E, and the boy, as you call him. For a few days, you just needed solitude, time to process and understand. After that, came the confrontational period, well, as confrontational as you get with Eden. Which means you dropped subtle hints until she just thought you were being weirded than usual. But now, she had reason to be suspicious that you were suspicious, and two suspicious Reid women don’t make a mix.

“No?” She responded, slowly, her eyebrow raising at you. “Why?”

“No?” You paused to take a breath. “Okay.” “What does that mean?” “Nothing.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” E asked, her arms now crossed over her chest. Not good. She’s defensive. E’s never defensive.

“See, that’s just the same as the secret thing we had going earlier,” you joked.

“Ugh,” E groaned.

“What?”

“You always get like this,” she shook her head.

“Like what?” “Like this when dad comes around!”

You stopped the car, the brakes skidding to a halt at the school entrance. “Are you -- E, this isn’t about your dad, this is . . . about that boy. That boy that kissed you at your party. The boy who kissed my sixteen year old daughter on the cheek.” “What?” E snapped, sitting up in her seat.

Em slid out of the car, ran to class.

“I mean,” you rambled. “ I have an eidetic memory, E, I can’t unsee that!”

“See that . . . ?“ she whispered to herself. You could see the wires clicking in your head. Her eyes widened, “You saw that? You saw --” She began to pack up her stuff, scrambling really, grabbing her iced coffee.

“E --” you stuttered. “What are you doing? Hey, hey, talk to me.” “I’m late for school, mom, I’ll text you.”

“E --”

“Bye.” you were cut off by the sound of the car door slamming in your face. If ‘what the fuck?’ could be a facial expression, you were wearing it right now.

You had a concussion when the doctor told you about Eden Penelope Reid. You had fallen on the concrete, and couldn’t really see straight. You felt Spencer though. He was holding your arm and supporting your wobbling body with his since you’d hoped straight out of the hospital bed.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Reid,” The doctor smiled at you.

“Huh? What? Congratulations?” You slurred, tired and confused and looking to your husband.

“Oh, I’m . . . sorry, I thought of you . . .” After exchanging glances with Spencer, she sighed and beared another grin. “You’re . . . pregnant. About five weeks along.”

You fainted. Again.

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, following your fast footsteps with his eyes.

You rounded the edge of the couch and took a seat beside him, huffing as you plopped down, only to give him a glance of acknowledgement.

“You’re late, I thought you got lost,” he said.

“Nope, just took the scenic route,” you grumbled. “Hi, I’m [y/n],” you directed at the therapist sitting across from you. She wore dark red lipstick and a matching blouse, her nails a deep purple over her slacks. Okay. Cool.

“Olivia Oliphant,” she nodded kindly. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” “Oh, just [y/n], please,” you told her.

“Well, [y/n], Spencer here was just telling me about your kids.”

“Oh?” You looked at Spencer. “He was?”

“Yep, Eden and Emerson, beautiful names. How did you guys pick them?”

When you were approximately five weeks pregnant with Eden Penelope Reid, you felt the most excruciating pain of your life. That’s including two rounds of childbirth, some beatings, a bullet wound. You clamp down on your lower stomach, grasping for air as you collapsed to the floor, in the middle of a crowded police station. Penelope rushed to your side, calling your name, “Oh, my goodness, [y/n], what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” “I don’t --” you whimpered. “Something’s not -- ow! -- something’s not right!” Local PD helped you to your feet, a worried Garcia following behind them. “C--call Spencer!” You pleaded, although the phone was already to her ear.

Spencer had just been shot in the neck.

They didn’t think he was going to make it. They didn’t think he was going to make it. You beat Derek, pounding your fists into his chest for not telling you sooner, broke down in the center of the waiting room.

But he did make it.

He made it, and he was right here. He was right here, and you were right here, and E was at school, mad at you, and it was eating you alive. Did you completely undo your ‘cool mom’ reputation with one meltdown? No, how could you?

“[y/n]?” Dr. Oliphant called.

You zoned back into reality, both Spencer’s and her concerned faces focused in on you.

“Yes,” you cleared your throat. “Well, Eden is named after East of Eden by John Steinback, and . . . Emerson is named after Ralph Waldo Emerson.”

“And,” she began. “Would you say your kids are your main reason for being in therapy?”

“Oh, wow, okay, just jumping into it, got it,” you huffed.

Spencer was still eyeing you, worried and troubled. He knows you. He knows when you’re upset, and stressed, and he couldn’t stop staring at your nails. “Uh . . .” you hummed. “Hm? . . . hm? Would I say that there’s any other reason I’m in therapy for sixty minutes with my ex-husband? No.”

“[y/n].” Spencer spoke, turning his body full to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head.

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “ I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Yes, yes, yes, you’d ask what’s wrong, and I nothing’ed my way through our marriage and we got divorced. I know.”

“Jesus,” he sighed, exasperated, pressing his palm to his forehead.

An awkward silence floated throughout the room for what felt like hours. You stared at your shoes, and huffed. Lifting your head up to smile at Dr. Oliphant, you said, “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

There was an earthquake in California the day Eden Penelope Reid was born. A magnitude of four. This would not have mattered in the slightest -- due to the fact that you were on the other side of the country -- but Spencer was there. In California, sitting in the dark, surrounded by broken glass when Eden was born.

She came at night, after your water broke at the BAU headquarters. You spent hours of the day stumbling around a hospital room, waiting for Spencer to show. Penelope’s quick with a phone, she knew hours before you finally asked her.

“Penelope?” You whimpered, curled up in the bed with your hand pressed to your back.

“Yes?” She pipped.

“Spencer’s not coming . . .” you turned to her. “Is he?”

“We’ve got to talk.”

You glanced over your shoulder, rolling your eyes, “Spencer, please.”

“[y/n], come on,” he pleaded.

You looked him in the eye, sighing as you leaned back in your seat. You could hear the kids shuffling around upstairs, having just been dropped off by Spencer, who was stern and pressed. It was kind of funny.

“I was in a bad mood,” you told him.

“Bad mood? [y/n], you sat there for forty-five minutes sipping your coffee every time Dr. Oliphant asked you a question so you couldn’t talk with a full mouth.”

“Bad mood . . .” you repeated, this time quieter, softer, to yourself.

Spencer’s expression softened, almost instantly. “[y/n]?” he called. “What happened? You’ve been biting your nails, I know something’s wrong.”

You crumbled. You ran yours hands over your face and sobbed. From that moment Spencer and you saw E with that boy, you’ve been reliving it over and over. Trying to recognize his face, and it wasn’t until just last night that you realized it’s . . . Spencer. This boy looks just like Spencer, and you can’t even figure out how you feel about Spencer, -- who you didn’t meet until you were 23, by the way -- let alone this kid.

So how is E doing? How is she already so comfortable around him? And kissing. Have they kissed before? You don’t want to know. No. You do want to know. It’s all you want. You want the most important girl in your life to talk to you, to confide in you the way she did when she was seven years old. But now she’s sixteen and she won’t even look at you.

“And of course, I found a way to blame it on you,” you paused to breath after a long rant. “Because, well, you’re here, which is still weird to me, but hey,” you shrugged, inhaling a hit from your juul.

Spencer nodded his head understandingly, biting down on his to contain a smile. “Now, that . . . is how you should’ve spoken in therapy this morning.” He laughed.

You chuckled, for the first time all day, and rolled your eyes, “Next time.”

“Next time?” He grinned. After connecting his eyes to yours, and seeing a glimmer of confirmation, he sat up, “Well, okay, cool. Then, next time I’ll tell you that you are the best mother on the planet. Raising the kids the way you did . . . you made Eden who she is. You made that incredible girl, and you shaped her into the slightly . . . stubborn girl she is today. She is her mother’s daughter, she just needs someone to push past the hardhead every once in a while.”

You exhaled, a slow, steady breath.

Spencer.

He stayed until Sunday afternoon. Just like he said he would. A whole day after you wandered into E’s room, full of fresh courage and love. You asked her if she was hungry, and she said no. By the time you left, you had a name. Sullivan.

“Sullivan?” You repeated. “Does he go by Sully?” You cackled.

“When he was six!” She shouted, a fit of giggles dribbling from her lips. “He goes by Van now.” “Oh, my goodness,” you feigned as though you were collapsing on the bed. “Van?”

“Yes! Hey, don’t judge! You married a guy named Spencer.”

“[y/n]! [y/n]? [y/n] --” Spencer’s voice lowered to immediately silence the moment he stepped into the room. Under the hospital lights, you laid on a bed, a tiny baby in your arms and a soft smile on your face.

“Don’t be shy now,” you giggled. “Come in.”

He stepped into the room, slowly, his breath shaky from running down the halls. “I--is, is this her?”

“No, I misplaced the actual baby, so they gave me a very life-like doll,” you smirked.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, placing a million and one kisses to your forehead. “You’re incredible, you did -- incredible,” he held you close, looking down at the infant against your chest. “So, what’s her name? You did remember to pick one, didn’t you?”

“Yep, UnSub --”

“[y/n] . . .” he smiled.

You laughed, holding your child up to her father. “This . . . is Eden Penelope Reid.”

Spencer didn’t come out of his room for hours before he was set to leave on Sunday. As worried as you were, you kept to entertaining the kids in the living room. The two of them were snacking on some popcorn, watching a movie on netflix. Em was tucked underneath your arm, and you did your very, very best to focus in on the TV. But the moment you heard the hinge of his bedroom door, you sat up in your seat.

He came down the steps in a stomping rage. Didn’t even come in to join you all, just called for you, “[y/n] . . . [y/n], can you come here, please?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, and stood to your feet, nervously eyeing the kids. “Be right back,” you told them, before walking out into the foyet.

“Okay . . .” Spencer said, just above a quiet whisper. “Okay, okay . . .” He was trying to calm himself down. Pacing, muttering, hands on his hips.

“Spencer?” You walked up to him. “Hey, what’s the matter? Hey . . .”

“I’ve had . . . some time to process, some time to fully understand the information, but I know that you, haven’t, so I’m going to get to it . . . Catherine Adams is being injected tomorrow.”

Crickets. Silence. No sobs, no boo-hoos, nothing. “And?” You replied. “Are we throwing a party? Because that can be arranged.”

“And in exchange for her cooperation in multiple homicide investigations . . .” Spencer sighed, his head ducked down, hands in his pockets. “She gets a final request.”

You scoffed, rolled your eyes, “What does she want now? A night with you at the Ritz? Just give it to her at this point so she’ll kick the bucket.”

“She wants to see Eden.”

“Wha --” The sound slipped out before you could catch it. Thoughts. Thoughts. Thoughts. So many. And all you could say was, “No. Absolutely-fucking-not . . . fuck!”

“[y/n] --”

“The psycho who had my daughter kidnapped wants to . . . meet her? She can go straight to hell, and suffer on the way there.”

And that was the moment, Eden Penelope Reid stepped into the doorway, her hands stern at her side, her face brazen with courage and strength, “I want to do it.”

#mine #fl #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid/reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

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“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 10 - [Reid x Reader]

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Summary: Another morning after. After Dr. Reid’s declaration last night everything feels different. Reader quickly proves that some things never change when our good Doctor forgets the rules.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature

Category: Smut with a healthy dose of Fluff.

Content Warning: Smut, BDSM themes, Femdom, impact play (slapping and spanking), choking, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 4.1k for Chapter 10.

A/n: Early today, I decided to split Chapter 10. This series will now have 11 chapters and an epilogue. I want to thank all of you that follow along and have sent me sweet message this week. I hope this chapter is everything I wanted it to be.

-- Chapter 10 - “Why are you being punished, Dr. Reid?”--

Every night since I was shot, I had dreamed of being whole. Losing Spencer had been unbelievably painful and healing from my gunshot wound was painful but losing faith in myself after all of that happened is what threatened to shatter me. I had kept everyone at a distance for so long, never letting anyone beyond these walls I had put up to keep my heart safe. It was hard to live with the thought that my judgment was so bad, my instincts were so off that I had trusted this beautiful man with his warm brown eyes and soft curly hair…I had trusted him, and he hadn't been what I thought he was. Ever since that night in my hospital room, my world felt fractured and heavy.

I could tell the world was different this morning before I even opened my eyes. The heavy fog that seemed to cloak my entire existence for the past month was no longer weighing me down.

Last night I let Spencer Reid into more than my room. I let him into my heart, I was trusting him to not hurt me again. I knew that these decisions would make my world different, but I hadn’t expected that my acceptance of his love would mend something inside of me that was broken long before I met him.

I told him I’d break all my rules for him, and he wrapped me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine. Spencer kissed me like I was the answer to a problem he never thought he could solve. My soul ached when his lips brushed against mine, but that ache was a sweet one, filled with hope and promise. For the first time in such a long time, I felt no pain.

When I imagined our reunion, I thought we would have been frantic in our need for each other. But all I had felt in that moment was just the desire to be with him. My world felt right for the first time in such a long time. I had fallen asleep in Dr. Spencer Reid’s arms, totally content as the sound of his heartbeat under my ear that rested on his chest lulled me to sleep.

We had separated slightly in the night. Spencer was still on his back, but I had rolled away from him at some point in the few hours we’d been asleep. You wouldn’t imagine that such a skinny man could radiate the kind of heat he did. We weren’t touching, but his right arm was reached towards me. Even in his sleep, he was still seeking me out, and the sight pulled at my heart. My wonderful, wonderful Spencer.

“It’s impolite to stare,” he grumbled, never opening his eyes. “Plus, it’s so dark in here you can’t even see me.”

I giggled, which caused a smile to tug the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t opened your eyes yet; you don’t know how dark the room is.” The teasing note left my voice when I told him the truth. “And…I wasn’t sure you were real,” I whispered. “I wanted to memorize your face just in case this had all been a dream.”

Spencer reached out to grab my arm, pulling me closer to his body. I nestled up against him while he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “I promise you I’m very real.” He stretched his lean body out before letting out a monstrous yawn. “And now that you’ve let me love you, it’s going to be nearly impossible to get rid of me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I pulled back slightly, turning my face up to better see his.

His hand moved up to my face, his fingertips tracing over my cheek. “It’s not a bad thing for me, but you might get annoyed.”

I chuckled. “Are you saying you’re needy?”

My darling doctor simply nodded.

I lifted up on my elbow and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’m sure you remember how well I can handle needy boys.”

Spencer groaned, then turned his head to the left so he could look at the clock on the nightstand. “We have to meet the rest of the team at 8 in the lobby. It’s 5:45 right now.”

“I’m very impressed that you can tell time, Dr. Reid.”

His bottom lip jutted out in a pout when he faced me again. “You can’t tease me like that.”

My index finger ran down between his eyes, over his nose, tracing the outline of his lips before I turned my hand, my thumb and forefinger gripping his chin. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Dr. Reid. Or did you forget that?”

“No, Miss,” he breathed, his eyes wide. “I didn’t.”

“Miss, huh?” I teased. “Is that what you want?”

His eyes ran over my face, searching for something. “If y-you do,” he stammered out. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know things can’t just go back to how they were before but…”

I smiled at him. “But you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of me fucking your brains out?”

Spencer smiled, a tinge of pink appearing on the apples of his cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll ever be opposed to that.”

Leaning closer, I brushed my lips against his. “Have you missed me, Dr. Reid?”

“More than you can even imagine.” The sincerity laced in his words made me pull back, my eyes moving to meet his.

“I missed you too, my darling boy. So, so much.” I rolled my body up so I could swing my leg over his hips, my panty covered pussy pressing against his groin. Spencer was already a little hard, so the friction caused by my movements pulled a whimper from him. I leaned down to press a kiss to his well-defined jaw before nipping the skin with my teeth. “But you really missed this, didn’t you?” I ground against his growing arousal to prove my point.

Spencer’s hands came up to grip my hips, guiding my rocking against him. “What do you want, Dr. Reid?” I asked, my hands coming down to grab his own, pulling them off my body and pushing them over his head. My boy’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his wide eyes rapidly scanning over every inch of me.

When he didn’t immediately answer, I let out a sigh. I sat up, looking down at him. Surely you haven’t forgotten already, baby.

“Dr. Reid, we’ve talked about this. When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” Bringing my right hand up, I quickly let it fall against his cheek, the sound of the sharp slap rang out into the silence of the room.

His cheek was bright red, his pupils blown in lust. “I’m sorry Miss.” Spencer’s hips lifted slightly, grinding against my heat. “I-I want to fuck you again, Miss.”

I smirked. “I’m sure you do, Dr. Reid. But, I’m not sure you deserve it.”

"Please," he whined. "Please, Miss. I need you."

“No, Dr. Reid,” I murmured, leaning over him again, my lips a breath away from his own. “You don’t need me yet, you just want me. But don’t worry, I’ll show you what it’s like to need me.” I kissed him softly. “Do you remember your safe words?”

“Yes Miss,” he breathed, his head jerking in a nod.

I flashed him a bright smile before I moved off of him. Let the games begin, baby. “Good. Take your clothes. Lay in the center of the bed. Now.”

He scrambled to comply with my orders while I moved off the bed completely, walking over to my suitcase. I grabbed one of my thin belts that I always kept in my go bag but rarely wore. I tugged on the leather material, running my fingers over its softness. I didn’t spare Spencer a glance when I tossed it down onto the bed. I faced the bed and began slowly peeling off my clothes, not missing the soft groan I heard come from my boy.

Spencer had followed my instructions perfectly, his beautiful angular body was bared to my gaze. His cock was already hard and resting against his thigh.

“Turn over, I want you on your hands and knees.”

His breathing stuttered, his eyes snapping up to my face. “W-what?”

“You heard me, Dr. Reid.” I picked up my belt, folding it in half, resting the fold in the palm of my left hand. “How many times have I told you that when I ask you a question, I want an answer? Clearly, the message isn't sinking in, baby." I smirked at him, enjoying how he was squirming. "So, we're going to try another way."

Spencer’s face was flushed, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

“You can safe word if you don’t want to do this, Spencer,” I said softly, breaking the scene a bit; my boy was still so new to this. The thought of him being uncomfortable with something was unbearable to me. “I won’t be upset. I’ll punish you some other way.” You know I would never give you more than you could handle, baby.

“I w-want to try it,” he whispered. “But what if I don’t like it?”

“Then you say yellow,” I said simply, my eyes fixed on his. “We’ll move on. Or you can say red and we’ll stop.”

He nodded before pushing up off of the bed, rolling over to get on his hands and knees. I smiled. My darling, darling boy. Before he rolled over completely, I noticed that his neck was flushed, a tell-tale sign of how he was feeling. “Are you embarrassed, Dr. Reid?”

“Yes Miss,” he mumbled.

I moved closer to him, resting on my knees, my right hand gripping the back of his thigh before sliding upwards. “Is it because you’re ass in the air for me? Are you embarrassed for me to see you like this, Dr. Reid?”

He nodded, causing me to scowl. I brought my open palm down against one of his ass cheeks. “You know, for such a smart boy who can’t stop talking any other time, you certainly seem to have a problem answering my questions.” He let out a yelp at the sting of my hand.

I moved the hand that had spanked him up to grip his curls, yanking his head upwards. “You will learn to answer me, Dr. Reid. Is that clear?”

“Yes Miss,” he replied, his voice strangled by his own desire and embarrassment. I saw how his cock hung between his legs, still so hard precum was leaking. I knew you’d be like this, my nervous boy.

With one more sharp tug, I released his hair. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, baby. Not with me, you know that. The next time I fuck this little ass, I’m going to fuck it while you’re like this. I’m going to grab your hips and slam my cock into you. But only after you beg me for it.” Spencer moaned at my words, his body tensing. “Is that what you want, Dr. Reid? Do you want me to shove your face into the pillow and fuck you like the slut you are?”

"Yes, Miss. Please."

I brought my hand down against his ass again, softer this time. “Good.” I moved the belt into my right hand. “I’m going to punish you now, Dr. Reid.” I ran the leather of my belt up the back of his thighs, over his cute little ass. “Why am I punishing you?”

“Because I didn’t answer your questions.” His response was immediate. Progress.

"I'm going to strike you 5 times, Dr. Reid. After every strike, you will count them out loud for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss."

“If you’re a good boy, I’ll reward you when we’re done.” I leaned over, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as a sign of reassurance. “Ask me to punish you, Dr. Reid.”

He whined the sound was a mix of deep need and arousal, but also a tinge of uncertainty. "Please, punish me, Miss. Please."

I pulled the belt away from his body. I looked him over one final time before I brought the belt down quickly, striking where his ass met his thighs. He yelped slightly at the sensation, his body shifting forward. “Count, Dr. Reid.”

“One,” he gritted out, his fingers twisting in the sheets. I could almost feel his embarrassment. But, after he counted the first strike he pushed his ass back, silently asking for more.

“Such a dirty, dirty boy,” I whispered, so quietly I’m not even sure he heard me. I gave him a moment before I lashed out again.

“Two.”

My third strike was less intense, but it went over the area that I had already hit.

“Three,” he whined out.

“You’re doing so good, Dr. Reid,” I praised. “Your ass looks so pretty like this. I wish we were home so I could give it the proper attention it deserves.” I brought the belt down again.

“Four,” he cried.

“Why are you being punished, Dr. Reid?”

“Because I didn’t answer you when you asked me a question, Miss.” His voice was a thick, pathetic whimper; his hips were shifting desperately. Even if he didn’t understand it himself, his body wanted this.

“And have you learned your lesson?”

He nodded franticly before his head dropped. "Yes, Miss."

I brought my belt down one final time. I could feel my own arousal starting to coat my thighs at the sight of him. His ass was pink, his cock was hard, and his fingers were gripping the sheets so tightly the veins in his hands were visible beneath his skin.

“Five,” he said, his voice almost a broken sob.

I kissed his shoulder, my hand moving over his ass to soothe the tender skin. "I'm so proud of you Spencer. So proud of you. You're such a good boy." I peppered his back with kisses.

My nervous boy looked up at me, a sheen of tears in his eyes. My heart squeezed. “Are you alright, baby?”

He nodded. “Green. Green, Miss. I need you so much.”

I dropped the belt on the bed, my fingers going to his hair to pull him upright. "I know you do, my greedy boy.” My mouth met his in a hungry kiss while my other hand went down to run over his cock, causing him to release a strangled moan into my mouth.

Pulling away from the kiss, I waited until his eyes fluttered open before I spoke. “I’m going to reward you now, darling boy. I want you to lay down on your back and let me fuck you.” I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes Miss,” he whimpered out, nodding his head, which only caused his hair to pull against my grip. “Please.”

I released him, letting him lie on his back. I straddled his hips, my dripping pussy hovering over his cock while I lined us up. “You can touch me, Dr. Reid. You’ve been such a good boy.” With that, I quickly sank onto his cock, taking him to the hilt in one movement.

“Oh my god,” he groaned loudly, his head was thrashing against the pillows, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I was sure I’d have bruises.

“Do you feel how wet my pussy is, Dr. Reid?” I leaned over him bracing one hand beside his head, but the other I placed over his throat.

"Yes, Miss. You feel so good." His hips started to raise up to meet my motions. "I need you so much."

I smirked down at him. “I always know what you need Dr. Reid." I watched his face carefully before I applied some slight pressure to his carotid artery. His eyes fluttered; his hips jerked slightly. “I know you need to feel my hot, tight, little pussy cum all over your cock. I know you need for me to fuck you so hard you cum deep inside of me. Do you need to fill my pussy up with your cum, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer was experiencing an onslaught of sensations at that moment, I’m sure. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when he brought his hand up to tap against the one on his throat. I removed my hand immediately, leaning over to press a kiss against the side of his mouth. “Good boy.”

He whined loudly while he pushed me down more forcefully on his cock, trying to accelerate my motions. "Please, Miss. I need that. I need to feel you cum around me.”

I kissed him properly, my teeth catching his bottom lip, tugging harshly. “Then make me cum, Dr. Reid.”

His hand went in between our bodies, bringing his thumb to the crest of me to circle my clit. My mouth broke away from his in a harsh moan while my walls fluttered around him.

Spencer moaned so loudly I wouldn’t be surprised if someone in the next room could hear him. “Fuck, Miss I’m so close.” His circles against my clit sped up. “Please, please let me cum.”

I felt my orgasm quickly rising up inside me. Seeing this beautiful man so fucking desperate for me was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen. “Cum for me, pretty boy. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Something inside him snapped at my words. His fingers gripped my hips so hard it hurt, he slammed me down onto his cock, while he chanted my name almost frantically while he fell over the edge.

The feeling of him losing himself inside of me sent me over the edge. My pussy clamped down on his cock while my mouth opened in a silent scream. Spencer’s body jerked underneath mine with the last tremors of his orgasm. When I started to come down, I collapsed onto him, pressing kisses to every inch of his skin I could reach. “You did so well, Spencer,” I praised between kisses.

Knowing I needed to hurry, and silently cursing myself for not planning out the aftercare a bit better, I lifted off of his body. I was watching my boy closely, so I saw the wince he gave when his cock slipped from me, coated in a mixture of both of our releases. Making my way to the bathroom, I wet two washcloths before dashing back into the bedroom.

Spencer was still on his back, his breathing was even but his eyes still looking a bit dazed. “Are you okay, Spence?” I asked, gingerly cleaning him up with one of the rags.

He licked his lips, his eyes finding mine. “I-I think so,” he said softly. “It doesn’t feel like the first time, but it still feels…”

I tossed the rag on the floor before using the second one to clean myself up. "I know, darling boy.” I laid down with him, bringing the covers up to shield our bodies. “You couldn’t have done better, Spencer. I’m so proud of you.”

He seemed to shine in the light of my praise. “Thank you, y/n.” He pressed a soft kiss to the skin between my eyebrows.

After a few moments, I asked, "Can you get up for me? We need to clean up properly so I can put some lotion on your cute little butt.”

He chuckled at that. “It sounds like an excuse to touch it again.”

I nodded, not trying to keep the smile off my face. “You’ve found me out, Dr. Reid. Everything I do is all part of an elaborate ruse to fondly your cute butt.”

After our shower, true to my word I had Spencer face down on the bed while I “fondled” him.

“This is humiliating,” he mumbled, his face pressed into a pillow.

“You’re gonna have to get over this, Doc. This ass is officially mine. This is not the last time you’ll be like this.” I finished my work by giving him a playful swat on his behind. “I’m done. You can cover your virtue now.”

After our shower, I had dressed and gone to Spencer's room to get his clothes. It was still early enough that I hadn't seen any of the team, but I don't think it would have mattered if I had. He was mine now, and our friends would find out soon enough. That thought warmed me to my core.

“So, how did you feel about the impact play?” I asked, once he was off the bed and getting dressed.

He flipped his hair out of his face, looking at me while he fastened his pants. “I liked it; I think. I don’t know that I’d like anything more extreme than that.” He reached for his shirt before he spoke again. “At least not yet.”

Yet? “Noted, Doc.”

“What about you?”

I quirked one of my brows at him. “I clearly liked it.”

Spencer smiled, shaking his head, his damp curls already starting to shift into his signature look of perpetual bedhead. “I meant how did you feel about making traditional sex a part of our…relationship?”

I paused, considering his words. Ever observant, Dr. Spencer Reid had noticed something I hadn't thought of yet. I hadn't had vaginal sex with a submissive during a scene in a long, long time.

“It felt…natural,” I said softly while he walked over to stand in front of me. His thumb caressed my cheek while he tilted my face up, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Everything feels easy with you, Spence.”

My boy’s smile could have lit up the whole room. “I love you so much,” he murmured, adoration dripping from his voice, before turning to finish getting ready.

Wait. I stood up quickly, walking over to him. “Spence.” He turned towards me, but in the way that he knew everything, he didn’t seem particularly surprised that I had gotten up so quickly.

“Realized something, have you?” He tucked my hair behind my ear, his face was so fucking tender while he looked down at me, his warm brown eyes were shining when he looked at me. I saw everything I had felt in my heart for so long reflected back at me in those remarkable eyes that belonged to the most remarkable man.

He was right, I had realized something. I cupped his face in my hands, my voice shaky but strong. “You’re the brightest thing in any universe, Spencer Reid. And I love you, I love you, I love you.”

I thought our kiss last night was the best a kiss could get, but Dr. Reid quickly proved me wrong.

We didn’t see the rest of the team until we met them in the hotel lobby at 8 am. Spencer was carrying my bag and our fingers were laced together as we walked towards them.

JJ was the first one to spot us; she clapped her hands together before jumping to her feet. The rest of the team turned to see what she had noticed, only to have similar reactions.

We were quickly enveloped in hugs and showered with well wishes.

“I knew you had it in you, Pretty Boy!” Morgan had pulled Spencer into a tight hug. No sooner had Morgan released him than Rossi grabbed him, kissing both of his cheeks, looking every bit the proud father. We really don’t deserve Rossi, I thought, not for the first time.

Hotch offered me a brief hug, which startled me. “You’ll have some forms to fill out when we get back. Reid already filled out his.”

I smirked over at my boy. “Looking forward to it, Boss.”

Our plane was set to take off at 9 am, meaning we had to board at 8:30. I was still tired from all the sleep I hadn’t gotten last night. With that in mind, I made my way over to the couch, intending to stretch out for our flight back home. I found myself smiling when my boy approached me. He lifted my legs up with a feigned sigh before he sat down, once he was situated in his seat, he pulled my legs into his lap.

It was a few minutes later when he shifted in his seat, wincing slightly.

I pulled my lips between my teeth to contain a laugh. “Something wrong, Dr. Reid?”

He gave me a fake glare, his mouth twisting into a pout. “You’re lucky I love you,” he muttered.

I know, I thought. I know, I know, I know.

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honey-andtea1889 · 5 years ago

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Battered and Bruised

AN: Hello! This is my very first Spencer Reid blurb! I’m super excited to write this and I seriously hope you all enjoy it! My requests are open and ready for business, please don’t be afraid to ask! Xx

Summary: The BAU team gets called on a case in Omaha, Nebraska for kidnaps and murders of women around the city. When Y/N get taken, Spencer goes to the ends of his being to find her.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, death, mention of rape, shit ton of fluff

Song: Battered and Bruised by Circa Waves

---------------------------------------------

Mornings weren’t Y/N’s strong suit. Especially when it included waking up at 5:30 am because your boss calls you in on a case. She knew it was a serious case just because of the time and after the last case the team had finished, she knew she couldn’t be too upset.

Y/N loved her job at the BAU. It was pretty much her who reason for living. She absolutely loved helping people and putting away criminals that don’t deserve any more than a kick of dust. Just the feeling of saving someone’s life made the job worth it. She always put her heart fully into every case that came up, making sure that every person that was found was safe and every bastard that would cause the victims pain would get every ounce of punishment they had coming to them. Y/N couldn’t think of doing anything else.

Her team made it even better. She got along with everyone. They were all so welcoming when she first joined the FBI, Y/N felt that these people, this wonderful team, was her family.

Y/N soon made it to the BAU and went straight into the break room for some coffee. She ran into a very groggy, barely woken Derek Morgan. He smiled at her, sipping his morning brew.

“Good Morning, Princess. How was your nap?” Derek asked as he chuckled.

“About as good as it can get. Can’t believe we got called back in so quickly. Did Hotch tell you anything about today’s case?” Y/N asked.

Derek shook his head. As far as they knew, no one was told about the case. Hotch had just called everyone in saying that it was an emergency. The two were soon joined by none other than David Rossi. He smiled as he made himself a cup of coffee, sighing at the time.

“One of these days, I’m just not going to answer my phone.” Rossi grumbled.

The three of them laughed. Derek and Rossi made their way to the briefing room while Y/N fixed herself another cup of coffee. A loud groan echoed through the hall, and you knew who that belonged to. Dr. Spencer Reid came into sight as he trudged over to the coffee machine, smiling a tired smile at Y/N.

Spencer and Y/N had a weird relationship. It was evident that the two of them had feelings for one another, but neither of them acknowledged them. There were times where Y/N wished she had the courage to just walk up to Spencer and ask him out, but she could never convince herself to do it. Spencer was the same way. He thought she was so beautiful and smart. He felt so comfortable around her and just being in the same room as her was a gift in itself, he just didn't know how to ask without making a fool of himself. Everyone on the team could feel the romantic tension between the pair and it killed them. Spencer couldn’t could how many times Derek had mentioned it to him that he should ‘make a move before someone else does.’

“Whoever allowed anything to be done before 11:30 in the morning is psychotic.” Spencer grumbled, pouring coffee into a mug.

“I hear ya, but Hotch sounded pretty serious on the phone. We should probably get up there.” Y/N sighed.

The two made it into the briefing room, Penelope setting everything up for the team. Spencer took a seat next to Y/N, smiling at her as he took his first coffee sip of the day. Prentiss, JJ, and Hotch soon flew into the room as Penelope began explaining the case.

“Three women were found dead in ditches all around Omaha, Nebraska. Jenna Lender, 25, was our latest victim. She was last seen yesterday morning, getting coffee for her boss. Jenna’s boss tried calling her after noticing she was gone longer than she needed to be but got nothing.” Penelope said as she clicked through the presentation.

“How long did the unsub keep the other victims alive?” Emily asked.

“That’s the thing, all of the girls were only alive for a day. once he was finished with one, the unsub would spend a week hunting for a new woman.” Hotch says.

“He stays in the same area, he’s got a comfort zone.” Spencer said, eyeing the file in front of him.

“He obviously doesn’t have a type, the women are all different. The only thing that is connecting them is their age.” Y/N said.

“And their jobs. All of the girls worked at the same company just different departments. It looks like the building is downtown, did they know each other?” JJ asked.

“No, its a huge company. Jenna worked on the 23rd floor in Accounting, Sierra on the 12th floor in Marketing, and Marie on the 33rd as an assistant to the CEO.” Penelope said as she clicked on her tablet.

“Are we looking at the CEO of this company? Maybe he’s got something to do with it?” Derek questioned.

“No, he’s got a trustful alibi.”

“Whoever it is, we need to find him before he kills again. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said, gathering the files to head out to the jet.

The team gathered their things and boarded the plane. Everyone was slowly dozing off in their seats while Y/N and Spencer stayed up and talked about the little things. They did this every so often. Whenever they had a long trip, the pair would sit closer to the back and just talk. They never had a set conversation, the topic was always changing. Y/N loved that.

“No way, you can’t possibly think that Stephan King outranks Edgar Allan Poe.” Spencer laughed.

Y/N shrugged and smiled at the genius to her right.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Edgar, but something about King’s writing just hits a little on the different side.” She said as she sipped on her coffee.

Spencer studied Y/N. He took in her features, her beautiful Y/E/C eyes, her gorgeous smile, intoxicating laugh. He became so enthralled by her beauty, he didn’t realize that the plane had landed and the team were departing the aircraft. Y/N noticed his staring and blushed. Now wasn't the time to flirt though. They had a job to do.

“Alright, Prentiss and Morgan, I want you two at the first crime scene. Look for any details that were missed. Rossi, you and I will go to the second crime scene. JJ, talk to the families of the girls. We need to know if there was anything linking them. Reid and Y/N, go to the latest crime scene and gather as much evidence as possible. You both are then to go to the police station and set up. We’ll meet there in about two hours.” Hotch explained.

Everyone broke off into their respected groups. Y/N and Spencer quickly arrived to the recent crime scene, the body still laying in the position it was found.

“FBI?” A detective asked.

“Yeah, this is SSA Y/L/N and I’m Dr. Reid. Is this how the body was found?” Spencer quizzed at the detective.

The man nodded and led the two over to the body on the ground. Y/N looked at the woman to see if there was any form of self defense wounds on her. Spencer was taking note of the area in which the body was found. It was just outside of town, the woods just a few miles away from the dump sight. Spencer was about to look around until Y/N called him over.

“Take a look at this.” She said, moving the arm of the woman.

The two saw marks around her wrists, showing that the woman was tied up when she was captured. As the looked even closer, the agents could see the body had bruises all along her neck, hips, and thighs.

“This woman was raped, Spence.” Y/N said disappointedly.

Spencer sighed. This case was not going to be an easy one. The two headed back to the station to set up the search. Spencer could see that Y/N was a bit off since they left the crime scene. Morgan and Prentiss came into the room, they were almost out of breath as the entered.

“Marie Thomas was raped.” Prentiss explained.

“So was Jenna.” Y/N stated, pinning up a photo of her lifeless body.

“So he stalks them for a week, kidnaps them, rapes them, then dumps their dead bodies in ditches.” Derek said as he flopped onto a chair.

“None of the girls had enemies at work, they all got along with their coworkers and mostly kept to themselves.” JJ said as she walked in.

“So what sick bastard is taking these women?” Emily questioned.

Hotch and Rossi soon joined the rest of the team, both looking more on edge than everyone else.

“Guys? Are you okay?” Y/N asked.

“Something isn’t sitting right.” Rossi sighed.

Hotch walked over to the board as Spencer explained how he wanted the people of Omaha to see that he means business. Y/N became uncomfortable with the topic and decided to stand outside to get some fresh air, clearing her mind from all of the horrifying information she had taken in. Derek came to check up on her almost immediately after she left.

“You okay mamas?” He asked.

Y/N chuckled at the nickname.

“Honestly? No. These poor women were just living their lives and then this happens to them.” She explains, her heart sinking at the thought.

“Look, Y/N, I know this is hard, but we have to keep our heads up. We’ll catch this sick son of a bitch, no matter the cost.” He said.

“Derek, we don't have a lead. We can’t even connect the girls to each other besides the fact that they’re all the same age and work in the same building. To me, it almost seems like a revenge story.”

Y/N’s head picks up after she said that. What if it was a revenge plot? What if the unsub was hurt by an ex or embarrassed by a coworker of the opposite sex and it just trying to get payback?

Derek looked at Y/N curiously. She bolted back into the station and ran into the conference room where the rest of the team was.

“This is a revenge spree.” Y/N said.

The team looked at each other, confusion taking over the room. Y/N walked over to the board and began explaining her theory.

“All three women worked at prestigious jobs, all three women were young, they were successful. Maybe this guy was ridiculed by someone like them, a girlfriend, coworker, boss, whatever. He is most likely killing them because he’s intimidated by them.” She said.

“That explains the connection. But what about the geographical profile? What the significance of the ditches around the city?” Rossi asked.

“He obviously wants them seen but not immediately. He’s almost trying put on a show for people, saying that he’s superior.” Spencer adds, looking over the photos.

“It adds up but what about the rapes? He just does it because he can?” JJ asks.

“No, he’s asserting dominance to these women. Showing them that he’s in charge.” Hotch said.

“Gather all your officers up Detective. We have a profile.”

About 15 minutes later, Omaha Police Officers and Detectives were surrounding the FBI agents as they gave the profile.

“The man we’re looking for is in his late 20′s-early 30′s. He socially awkward and intimidated by women of higher class.” Hotch starts.

“He won’t approach anyone first. He would be someone that keeps to himself at work unless his boss came up to him.” Emily said as she looks around the room.

“Over the years he’s been humiliated by women of authority, this could be a boss, higher up coworker, a girlfriend even. He has been taking this for years and has had enough.” Y/N said.

“He’s definitely the odd one out, he doesn’t look like he could do something as gruesome as this. Think of like a nerdy kid in high school.” Rossi explained.

“He’s trying to assert his dominance. He’s been submissive almost his whole life, he’s trying to show that he’s the one whose in charge by not only kidnapping, but raping the victims before he kills them.” Derek said as he sat in front of the group.

“He’s on the hunt right now. He could be anywhere around the city so be on the look out.” Spencer said.

“We’ve already made sure that everyone never leaves a location alone and that a city wide curfew has been set.” JJ says, crossing her arms.

“This man is very dangerous, stay alert and stay safe.” Hotch said, ending the briefing.

Y/N exhaled and decided to take a breather. She walked outside and took a deep breath. The case was starting to get to her. It could also be the lack of sleep she had.

Y/N turned to go back inside, until she felt a sharp pain coursing on her head and the world went black.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a few hours, Spencer had noticed Y/N missing and started looking for her. He looked around the station and even went downtown to see if she was at some coffee shop. He called her phone, only to be answered by her voicemail. Somethings wrong Spencer thought. He quickly went back to the station, panic taking over his mind.

“Hey, Y/N isn't answer her phone and I can’t find her anywhere.” Spencer said frantically as he entered into the conference room.

The team looked around at each other, trying to figure out where she could’ve gone. It was normal for Y/N to wonder off during a case but not for longer than a half hour. The team knew that sometimes, some cases can be a little much for her so she steps away to take a minute to gather herself. Spencer would always go to make sure that she was okay, comforting her whenever she became overwhelmed with any case they were working on.

“Oh god..what if..” Emily started.

“Our unsub has her.” Hotch said grabbing her phone and dialing Penelope’s phone number.

“Hello my sweet, beautiful, darlings. How might I be of assistance.” Penelope sang through the small phone.

“Garcia, Y/N has been taken. We need you to run a search on her phone to see where she could possibly be.” Rossi said.

“Oh my god, no.” She said, sadness and worry taking over her demeanor.

“It’s gonna be okay baby girl. We’re gonna find her, right now we need you to get that search started.” Derek cooed.

Spencer was standing in the back, watching everything unfold.

How could he let this happen? Usually he would check up on her but today, he was so wrapped up in the case that he didn’t even bother to make sure she was okay. He wanted to make sure that you weren’t over stressed, especially with cases like this one. This was all his fault. He should’ve gone with her. His guilt began to eat at him, anxiety gnawing at him like a dog on a bone.

“Spence? You okay?” Emily asked.

“This is all my fault..” He whispered.

“Spencer, you couldn’t have done anything to stop this. We’re dealing with a violently aggressive man-”

“I check on her when cases become too much. I make sure that she’s okay. I’m always there for her and this time, I wasn’t. I wasn’t able to protect her from this maniac out there. And because of that, I’m losing the love of my life...again.” Spencer snaps.

Emily looks at the sad Doctor with empathy. She rubs his back for just a moment and returns to the rest of the team, leaving Spencer on his own.

---------------------------------------------------------

Y/N groaned as she picked her head up, the weight being ridiculously heavy. She took in her surroundings, seeing only a dark room with a single light bulb above her. She tried to move but her hands and feet were tied together on a chair. Well this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day, she thought. Y/N soon heard a loud slam come from down the hall. Footsteps were soon followed, dragging along the concrete floor.

“Well. Aren’t you a pretty one.” A man with a deep voice seethed, slowly making his way over to the light.

Y/N could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. To say she was terrified was a huge understatement.

“What do you want from me? I wasn’t the one who hurt you.” Y/N said, trying to sound as brave as she could.

“No, but you’re like her.” The man yelled as he slapped her cheek.

“What do you gain from this? Huh? Some sick form of pleasure?” Y/N screamed as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

The unsub punched her in her face. Y/N could feel a bruise forming under her eye as she panted. Y/N was a strong girl, and she wasn’t going to give up that easily but she definitely couldn’t hold on forever.

She hoped the team would save her soon.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Okay so by the looks of it, her phone was up and active until she got closer to the forest. That’s where the trail runs cold.” Garcia says, clicking away on her many computers.

“Detective, is there any abandoned houses or barns out that way?” Hotch asked.

“There’s actually an old barn just passed town. It’s deep in the woods though. Kinda hard to see at night.” The Detective said.

“Well we can’t wait until morning, she’ll be dead by then, so if you could tell us what the coordinates are, that’ d be great.” Spencer hissed.

“Reid.” Hotch said sternly.

“No Hotch, if we wait any longer Y/N will be dead. She’s part of the time and a huge part of my life. I can’t just wait around until it’s convenient for everyone!” Spencer yelled.

The team looked at Spencer in surprise. Hotch signaling to Derek to get Spencer to calm down before he’s removed from the case.

“Kid, I know you care about this girl, but you need to keep your cool.” Derek said, pulling Spencer to the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry, Morgan. I just want her to be alive.” Spencer said, his voice wavering.

“I know. We’ll get your girl back.” Derek promised.

Spencer nodded and hugged his friend.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Only a few hours left gorgeous, better get some rest before I destroy you.” The man said.

Y/N was beaten beyond belief. She felt as though she’d been to hell and couldn’t recover. Her vision was hazy, she could tell she had a huge concussion. Her lip was bleeding and by the throbbing of her eye, she knew there was going to be some bruising. Her body ached from being beaten in a chair. She could barely keep her eyes open.

Her thoughts went to Spencer. She thought about ever seeing him again, about ever being able to tell him that she loved him. She wanted to finally express her feelings to him, but probably won’t ever get the chance now. Her swollen eyes began to fill with tears as her heart breaks.

It’s not long until the man come back and beats her again. Constantly throwing fists at her face.

“How does it feel to be less than nothing, you bitch.” He whispered.

“Go to hell.” Y/N seethed.

With that, Y/N spit some of the blood from her lip at the unsub. He yelled and slapped her across the face. As he was going in for a punch, Y/N hear footsteps outside, Her heart beat picked up, knowing her team finally came to her rescue.

“You think you’re all big and bad because you kill and rape women? hah, I’ve seen bugs better than you.” Y/N spat.

It was that moment where a click of a gun rang throughout the barn and Hotch’s voice rang through Y/N’s ears.

“Put your hands where I can see them.” He said sternly.

The unsub grabbed a knife and pulled it to Y/N’s throat.

“If I die, she dies with me.” He said.

Spencer locked his gun and pointed to the unsub. He could see the terror and shame in Y/N’s eyes as his fingers landed on the trigger. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to keep her safe, and after this, he was going to make sure you weren’t in harms way.

“Sir, just let the girl go.” Hotch tried reasoning.

“Why? So she could go tell scrawny over there to work harder? So she could torment him just like I was?”

The unsub looked over to Spencer.

“You know she screams your name, right?” he said.

“She screamed it while I was beating her to a pulp. Guess you could say she-”

A gunshot was fired. The man’s body flopped to the floor as Y/N hyperventilated. Spencer ran over to her, untying ever blasted knot that was harming her precious skin. Once she was released, Y/N flopped down on top of Spencer, holding him as tightly as she could.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.” he whispered.

“I was so scared Spence. I thought he was going to-”

Spencer cut Y/N off.

“I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you, Y/N. I care about you way too much to let someone manhandle you like that.” Spencer said lovingly.

Y/N pulled away from him and crashed her lips onto his.

The kiss was delicate, yet full of passion. The pair kissed for just a few moments before they pulled away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while, just couldn’t find the right time.” Y/N said, softly smiling at the cheesing Doctor.

“Well I’m glad you finally did. Come on, let’s get you home.” Spencer smiled.

Both agents stood up from the ground and made their way outside of the barn. Y/N was looked at for her injuries and soon after, the team made their way back home.

---------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t worry about the reports just yet, guys. Go home and get some rest.” Hotch said as they entered the BAU. Everyone cheered as they all made their ways to their designated cars.

“Hey, Spence?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can I please stay with you? I don’t know if I could stay there by myself tonight.” Y/N blushed.

Spencer smiled and pulled Y/N into his chest. Y/N snuggled in tightly, feeling the warm embrace of the Doctor who saved her.

“Of course you can stay, do you want to run back to your place and get some clothes?” Spencer asked.

Y/N nodded as they headed to his car. The drive back to Y/N’s apartment was silent, but a comfortable silent. The two held each other’s hand tightly, afraid of letting the other person go. They pulled into the parking lot and made their way upstairs. Y/N unlocked her apartment and quickly slid inside, allowing Spencer access to her home. Y/N quickly ran back to her room, gathering some clothes and her tooth brush so she could stay over at Spencer’s.

As she exited her room, Spencer was sat on her kitchen counter, looking through a small cookbook her mother had given her.

“These snickerdoodles sound really good, do you mind if we bring this and make cookies tomorrow?” Spencer asked.

“Sure.”

Spencer smiled and took Y/N’s hand, leading her back to the car. The drive to Spencer’s apartment wasn't too far from hers. The two quickly made it up the stairs and into the apartment.

Spencer’s place was cozy. With the many books on the book shelf, it made Y/N’s heart fill with joy. A yawn passed Y/N’s lips.

“You wanna go to sleep, darling?” Spencer asked, placing a hand on her back.

Y/N nodded. Spencer lead her to his room. They both began to get ready for bed when Y/N spoke up.

“Can I wear one of your shirts to sleep?”

“Of course, here.” Spencer said, handing Y/N a black crewneck sweater.

Y/N threw it on and climbed into bed. Spencer follow shortly after, snuggling close to Y/N as possible. She rested her head on his chest and sighed. Spencer kissed her head sweetly whispering:

“I love you.”

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aperrywilliams · 4 years ago

Text

New blurbs-series: 10 days to my birthday!! (Day 3)

(Not my gif)

Author Masterlist - Series Masterlist

My birthday will be in 3 days from now. So I’m going to celebrate myself with 10 Spencer Reid’s blurbs. Enjoy!. Well, this can´t be called a blurb... maybe I need to change the name series to “mini-fics-series”.

Day 10 | Day 09 | Day 08 | Day 07 | Day 06 | Day 05 | Day 04 | Day 03 | Day 02 | Day 01

Day 03: Spencer Reid says he loves you for the first time.

Through the time you have worked at the BAU, your skills in the field improved considerably. In the beginning you avoided having physical contact with the unsubs - if you weren't trying to persuade them by negotiating, your best tactic was to point a gun at them. But as the months go by, melee fights were no longer a problem for you. You understood perfectly why Morgan liked to kick doors so much. Deep down inside you felt as you liked kicking asses. Which seemed to be a contradiction in itself but at the same time a good strategy: people seeing you would not think that you are a person who would opt for a hand-to-hand fight.

That earned you several injuries: after two years working at the BAU you had already been stabbed twice, shot in the leg once, shot in the shoulder twice, and earned some contusions on the head. You didn't consider yourself an reckless person in the field, just that sometimes the job demanded more exposure.

That was something your now three month-boyfriend Spencer didn't like at all. Whenever there was an operation in the field you could see how his body tensed just thinking what could happen to you this time.

“We have to use a bait, otherwise we won't be able to catch it,” were Hotch's words as you discussed your options during a case in Denver.

“Well, how do we do it?”. Rossi asked.

“We need to come back to the victimology,” Prentiss stated. Hotch nodded.

“White women, in their thirties, with an attractive personality...,” JJ began to describe. Spencer immediately shook his head.

“…With the same hair and eye color as (Y/N). No guys, that's not going to happen. We won't use (Y/N) as bait,” Spencer rushed to say. You immediately looked at him with a disapproving expression.

“Excuse me? I remind you guys that I am here and you are talking about me,” you said with some exhaustion. “And Spencer, I suppose it's a decision for me to make, right?”

“(Y/N) is right, it's her decision. But the way I see it, it seems like our best option,” Morgan stated.

“Okay, let's think about the pros and cons. What can go wrong?”. You asked to the team.

“Everything!”. Spencer started to raise his voice. “How can't everyone see it? Didn't you see the photographs of the victims? Do you realize what he did to them? He could do the same to (Y/N)!”. Spencer ran his hands through his hair in disbelief that no one would notice the impending danger.

“Reid, we know of your apprehensions, but it's the best we have right now. Besides (Y/N) won't be alone, we'll be covering all the entrances to the place and we'll have agents stationed inside too,” Hotch tried to reason with Spencer, but he only had his eyes fixed on you.

“Are you going to do it?”. He asked you. Spencer knew what your answer was going to be, so he knew perfectly well that he was cornering you in front of everyone.

“Yes, I will do it”, you told him without hesitation. Spencer got up and left the room without saying another word.

You really understood Spencer's concerns about your safety a lot, but that's what this job was like and when you took it you knew there could be situations like this. Furthermore, Spencer was not the example of self-care in the field: he had also been shot and beaten on more than one occasion. In addition to his inability to keep his bulletproof vest on.

Before starting the preparations for the night's operation, you tried to talk to him. Neither when you started to be friends nor now that you had been in a relationship for a few months have you both been upset with each other for long.

You found him sitting on a bench outside the station. When he saw you, he barely made eye contact with you. He preferred to look at his shoes again. You sat quietly, trying to find the right words to start that conversation.

“Spencer...”

“Yes, I know. I understand this job works this way. I have also done the same before. I’ve never doubted your capabilities (Y/N). If you felt that I'm sorry...,” he said without taking off his eyes off the floor.

“Please, look at me,” you asked almost in a whisper. It hurt to see him like this. He hesitated but did what you asked. “Spencer, I know you are worried about me and I’ve never wanted to contribute to that concern, but you’re right when you say that this is the way this job is. We all risk something more than once. It's not the idea, but sometimes it happens...”. You subtly tried to hold his hand and he let you.

“I know, but... but now it's different...,” he muttered trying to avoid your gaze again.

“Why do you say that?”. You asked him.

“Well, at least for me it's different. I mean, I've always been concerned about the safety of the whole team, but... thinking about the times you've been injured in the field and now that we're together... just thinking that something could happen to you... I don't know. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I wouldn't know what to do if something happened to you...,” he rambled.

“Spencer, for me being with you these three months has been one of the best things that has happened to me and of course I want to have the opportunity to continue discovering things with you...,” you tried to reassure him.

“You don't understand... it's not just that we're a couple... it's more than that…,” he trailed off.

You looked at him strangely. What was disturbing him in this way now that you hadn’t seen in the previous months? In the short time you guys had been in a formal relationship, you both made the decision not to rush things. And so far everything was working out fine. You were sure you loved Spencer, but you never told him precisely because you didn't want to overwhelm him. You knew that Spencer liked to take small but safe steps. And you were fine with that.

“So tell me, what is it about?”. You asked him to elaborate. At the time that Spencer was going to develop his idea, Prentiss with JJ approached where you were.

“(Y/N), we have to get you ready for the night,” Prentiss told you. You looked at Spencer who was silent again. Whatever he was going to say to you, it was no longer the time.

“Okay. We can talk about this later, right?”. You spoke to Spencer. He just nodded. You got up and went with the girls inside the police station.

The plan was simple and risky at the same time, but it seemed effective. The idea was that you were in a specific bar that they knew was frequented by the suspect. Given your resemblance to the victims, the bet was that you attracted their attention until they could make a safe arrest. As Hotch had promised, there were agents posted outside the bar and some undercover inside as well.

“Hey, I think I see the unsub,” you muttered into your earpiece, as well as described his appearance so that it would be known to the agents.

“Good job (Y/L/N), now you must get his attention,” Hotch instructed. That's how you approached the bar, right next to the unsub and ordered a drink. According to the profile that you had all developed, the subject fit perfectly. After engaging in conversation with him, you agreed to go with him to the alley behind the bar. You didn’t count on the fact that the unsub was not really ‘the’ unsub, but rather a bait of the real murderer whom you had not seen all night and of whom no one had a description. ‘Fuck!’, you mumbled when you felt a blow to your head. Hotch started calling you and when you didn't answer, everyone mobilized. The unsub dragged you to a property next to the bar, further from the alley which quickly filled with police officers and your team.

When the unsub was about to drag you inside a truck, you felt someone yell.

“Stop! FBI!”. You were dizzy but could immediately recognize Spencer's voice. The unsub turned around and pulled a knife from his vest which immediately pointed at your neck. Trying to recover you only saw Spencer's panicky face. This was one of the results that he had surely calculated and that could end very badly. In a second of thinking and not thinking at the same time, you elbowed the unsub in the stomach, who before releasing the knife managed to graze part of your skin, ripping it. Free from your captor's grip, you ran towards Spencer. He had lowered his gun without realizing that the unsub was pulling a revolver out of his boot, pointing and firing rapidly in Spencer's direction. Again, with the adrenaline pumping, you retraced your steps and jumped on the unsub, making him fall and dropping the gun. You hit him a couple of times for good measure until he stopped struggling and passed out.

Spencer's whines brought you back to reality. When you turned around you saw he was on the ground and was holding his arm in pain. The bastard had hit him on the shoulder. You ran in his direction again.

“Spencer!,” you knelt in front of him and began to inspect his wound.

“(Y/N), are you okay?,” he told you. Why he asked you that since he was the one who was shot? There you realized your white blouse was stained with blood, thanks to the cut made with the unsub's knife near your neck.

“Yeah… yeah. It must be superficial. Sorry, I screwed it up. I didn't realize it was a trap...,” you started to sob and ramble. Spencer tried to calm you down.

“Hey, it's okay. We'll be okay...”

The next few minutes were confusing. The police arrived at the scene, along with the entire team. Two ambulances also arrived: in one they brought Spencer up to check his wound. They took you to the other to see the cuts on your body. The unsub was arrested and taken to the station. The paramedic who checked you cleaned up and patched your cuts. When you were ready you went to the other ambulance to see Spencer. The shot had been shallow and the bullet only grazed his shoulder, so cleaning and bandaging would be fine.

“Hey...,” you said as Spencer got out of the ambulance and fixed his vest over his patched shoulder.

“Hey...,” he replied. “You're good?”.

“Yeah. You?”.

“I'll be fine,” he told you smiling. He knew you were stressed and needed words of encouragement.

“Spencer, look... I know things could have gone very wrong today and you had your apprehensions, and I respect them... and you were right, I never doubted it was risky, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got hurt. And thank you for saving my life again. If you hadn't been by my side, maybe the result would have been different...,” you began to ramble.

“I love you,” Spencer told you taking your hand. You stopped your speech immediately and looked at him dumbfounded.

“What…?”

“I love you. That is what I was trying to tell you this afternoon. It's not that I worry just because I have my apprehensions with everything and everyone. With you it’s different because I love you. And it scares the shit of me that something happens to you and lose you. I'm terrified (Y/N), because bad things happen to the people I love and I can't do anything to stop it. And if I hadn't told you this before, it's because that means I have to admit that I'm afraid...,” he trailed off. Your heart was about to explode. You was thrilled to know that Spencer loved you but it hurt he felt so vulnerable to confess it.

“God Spencer. I love you too. So so much... I didn't tell you because I didn't want to overwhelm you. We agreed to take things slow and I was fine with that”. You told him hugging him tight. He buried his head on your shoulder.

“And I know you are scared. I must confess that I am too. I have never felt this for anyone and it also scares me to lose you... I may not say it or not show it, but it is the truth. But, you know what? We can do this together. We can face our fears together. Would you do that with me?”. You asked as you pulled away from his embrace slightly to look at him.

“The truth?... I'm willing to do anything as long as it's with you, (Y/N),” he told you leaning down and sealing his vow with a deep kiss which you reciprocated with equal intensity.

That was the first time Spencer Reid said 'I love you' to you. The first of many. It was also the first time you pondered more strongly the importance of balancing self-care at work with duty. Both, you and Spencer, would have a lot to learn about it, but you would do it together.

——

Permanent Taglist: @dreatine @andiebeaword @paulaern

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #10 days to my birthday #aperrywilliams #criminal minds #mini series

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 4 years ago

Text

Undercover - Chapter 4

Chapter Selection

The next day

I touched on the Reid subject yesterday but I didn't want him to worry so I decided to drop it. I brought It back up and Hotch called Reid.

"Hello."

"Can you come down the office for a few there's some paperwork I need you to lookover."

Hotch doesn't mention me but I sit in on the call. "Yeah I'll be there in 10", Reid hangs up.

"Haven't you noticed", Aaron focuses on the road. "Noticed what?", I keep my eyes on him.

"Okay so a few days ago I saw Reid in the elevator and I assume I've been at the BAU long enough so he's not awkward with me." He hummed in agreement.

"And he was avoiding eye contact, he was shuffling towards the door like he was trying to get away from me." I take a breath then continue.

"I've been noticing on cases he's not talking as much, he's avoiding just everyone in general."

We pull into the garage an make our way upstairs. I walk into the building first Aaron coming in a few minutes later.

Reid walks into Hotchs office, then he calls me in after. "Take a seat." He gestures to Reid, "We need to talk." His brows furrow and he pouts. "About?" I watch his body language and listen to his speech.

There's a single bead of sweat going down his forehead. His hands are trembling in his pockets; he's shuddering more than he usually does. Is he withdrawing?

I step in, "Hotch I think I know what's happening." He looks behind Reid and at me. I walk to the desk leaning on hit crossing my arms.

"So... how long has it been." Reid slowly turns up at me and Hotch.

He lets out a sigh, "3 days." Hotch watches him closely. "You're back on dilaudid? since when?", Reid stands up, "2 months."

A small gasp leaves Hotchs lip, and I stand in a bit of a shock. Nobody realized, 2 months he'd been high off his ass on cases and we didn't know.

"Why?", I asked; It hurt that he couldn't have told us he was hurting enough to relapse.

"My mom's been getting worse, the meds aren't helping as much as they were. I wanna visit her but there's been so much going on here that I didn't wanna leave."

Hotchs face softens, "You can take some personal time you know that right. I don't wanna see you in the office for the next 2 weeks. Go visit your mom."

I walk out of his office going to my desk. JJ walks up to me, "What are they talking about." She nods to the window. Morgan and Emily approach.

"Reid's... back on diluadid." I say in a hushed tone to not attract attention; gasps leave all of them. "I had know idea", Emily said.

"Emily none of us knew, I'm the one that told Hotch something was wrong." Morgan smirked, "you told Hotch huh."

I gave him a glare, Hotch closed the blinds and called me in; Morgan winked at me.

I shut the door and walked up to him. "What's the plan"

"He told me he was gonna go to some meetings try to stop but....I don't know if that's going to work."

"So he's gonna go to rehab?", he nodded. I let out a sigh and sat on the his desk. "I'm not the closest with Reid but I want him to be ok."

I said and Aaron came up to me. "Reid gonna be fine", he reassured.

"Hey I wanna ask you something", I hummed. "How would you feel if you met Jack." My eyes widened and I smiled, "Of course.. when."

"Maybe in a week it depends on when Hayley will let me see him."

"What if he doesn't like me." Hotch put his hands on my waist and pecked my lips, "He'll love you don't worry."

__________________________________

I was at Aarons sleeping and was woken up by the sound of his phone. I reach over without checking the ID.

"Hotchners phone," the other side of the line was quiet. "Hello?", the other person finally speaks up. "Hello is Hotch there?"

The person on the phone was JJ. My eyes went wide and I go to wake up Aaron.

He opens his eyes, "What is it baby." I muted the phone, "It's JJ she doesn't know it's me but here." Handing him he phone he unmutes the call.

"What is it." I can hear JJ say there was a case so I go into the shower. I feel hands snake around my waist and kisses being placed on my jaw. I turn around and peck his lips.

The water going in his hair and down his back. He tosses his head back and I wash his hair massaging his scalp.

He washes it out and does the same to me. He takes the body wash and runs it over my skin.

The movements are slow as he washes around my legs and back. I moan softly and he stops.

Leaning to my ear whispering, "Only if we had time."

"We can make time." I go to kiss him but he pulls back. "There's fun in waiting."

We step out the shower getting changed for work at 4am.

Finishing the shower. I try to be comfortable wearing a turtleneck and black pants. Aaron was about to put on his tie but I interrupt him, "Let me." He watches me carefully want to know what I was up too.

I just wanted to tease the hell out of him for fun. He wants to wait fine. I'll just make him wait till he's begging for it. I thought to myself.

Getting into the car and driving; his hand on my thigh the whole time tracing patterns. We go in holding hands until we get to the bullpen then we pull away.

The team looks tired, irritated and sluggish. "Let's go over the case." Hotch says walking up the ramp to the round table.

Garcia walk in, "Okay my lovely's you are going to Seattle, there has been 5 murders in the area all married mothers with a single child. Each victim was found with multiple stab wounds in the abdomen. Each in different parks"

"The mothers could represent their own, taking out there anger building confidence till he can take out the original source", Morgan States

Emily looks at the crime scene photos, "The victims were cleaned up, there hands by their side and hair combed. Maybe the unsub knows the them."

Hotch takes a looks and flips the page. "The unsub could be punishing the mothers for being terrible to their children."

I put my hand on Aarons thigh has he's talking. His breathing hitches but continues.

"So he sees himself as a protector." I say and everyone nods. "Wheels up in thirty."

________________

They team file out of the room and I stay behind holding Hotch by his thigh. He looks down and a small smile spreads on his face.

I meet his eyes as I slowly bring my hand to palm him through his pants; rubbing him till he was hard.

A small groan erupts from him when he grabs my hand pulling it away.

"Not here", he whispers into my ear then nibbling on my ear lobe.

I close my eyes when it goes cold; he'd left the room leaving me to imagine what would've happened.

I get my go bag and I go to the jet being the first one there. Aaron steps on taking my hand and dragging me to the bathroom.

He pins me against the wall and his hand makes it way to my throat. A soft moan leaves my lips.

He uses his leg to separate mine and puts his knee in between.

"Little girl, do you really wanna play that game with me?" I nod and he kisses me dragging his hand and ghosting it over my core.

I try and lean forward; grind on his palm but he pulls away shutting the door behind him.

When I gather myself and walk out the bathroom. I'm met with Rossi sitting next to Aaron with a smirk.

"How are you guys", Rossi says; me and Aaron glace at each other both saying fine in unison.

The rest of the team files on and takes there seats. I sit across from Aaron my leg running up and down his. Morgan surrounded by JJ and Emily.

Reid took the personal days to see his mom.

The majority of the team taking a nap. Rossi had gotten up to move to a single space so I took his seat, staring at Aaron.

I looked around and realized no one could see us. I leaned my head on his shoulder; he kissed the top of my head and I took a quiet nap.

Woken from Aaron shaking my shoulder to go over the case before we land. Garcia appears on screen.

"Ok let's go over the case", Hotch says in a stern tone. JJ speaks up, "Stabbing is consistent with those that are imponent. He could be using the stabbing as an outlet for sexual release."

"What if he's not though", I say in an unsure voice and they all look at me to continue.

"Now yes it is unlikely for the unsub to be a women but what if there was no sexual assault because they had no need too.

I mean yeah they could use the stabbing for release but if they were a women they just wouldn't have the need for it."

Hotch nods, "Let's not rule anything out and keep that thought in mind." I grin to myself knowing I got I wasn't completely wrong.

Morgan starts speaking, "Baby girl were the victims married?" I can hear her typing.

"Technically yes but the fathers were all absent. It was just the mothers and the kids."

"How are the kids", Emily asked Garcia, "Some of them have a pretty long hospital records, I see broken wrists, arms, and some ribs. Honestly guys I think they were getting abused."

"So lets say they were abused the unsub could've been a doctor or nurse at the hospitals.", Rossi states.

"Rossi and Morgan go to the latest crime scene. JJ and Prentiss interview the closet family. Y/n and I will set up station", Rossi gives us wink. He defiantly knows.

Hotch pulled Rossi to end of the jet.

"Do you mind if what you think you saw earlier, you keep it to yourself."

Rossi smiles to Hotch, "How long."

"2 months", He says happily and slightly embarrassed.

"I won't say a word."

________________

When the plane lands I reached for my bag when I felt something behind me. Hotch had pressed himself to my ass it made me gasp a bit. "What the fuck?"

He tried to have a serious face but I could tell that he had a grin. He knew what he was doing and he was defiantly gonna pay for it later.

When Hotch and I got to the station it was 7pm most of the Officers had gone home; leaving only the sheriff and 3 other cops. The sheriff walked up to us holding out his hand.

"Hello this is SA Y/n Y/l and I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner." We shook the mans hand as he showed up to the board room.

We pinned up pictures of the victims and the crime scene photos to try and get a feel; seeing it from a different point of view.

The room was closed off, blinds shut, and we had already set up; we were waiting for the rest of the team to come back so it was just Aaron and I.

I was looking over the photos when I wanted to tease Aaron a bit more. I bent over the table just enough so he could get a perfect view of me. I heard footsteps behind me and hands grab my hips.

"Little girl you're just begging me to fuck you right here aren't you." I suppressed my moan but he noticed. "Yeah you are aren't you." I nodded.

"Come on baby we've been over this use your words." His voice was coated in lust and it was low.

I bet if he really was able to he'd fuck me here and now. I finally spoke up.

"God... yes please." He wrapped his hand around my neck and brought my head to his mouth.

"I don't think you deserve it at this point little girl." He pressed me back onto the table.

My chest hitting the cold wood as his bulge pressed against me. Then he walked away sitting back down going back to drinking his coffee.

That was when the team walked in. They didn't see or hear anything thank god but it still worried me; what would've happened if they caught us.

They carried on with casual conversation; Aaron talking to them like he didn't just slam me on to the table a minute ago.

It was now 11:30; there was no leads on the case so far other than the possibility that the unsub could've been a women; that the mothers may have been abusing their kids.

So the unsub see themselves as a protector/ savior to the children. We were currently trying to put together other theories but half of us were asleep. Morgan was knocked out in the chair.

JJ and Emily were laying down together on the couch. Hotch was drinking his coffee with me next to him. Rossi had left for the hotel an hour ago.

Hotch took the last sip and woke everyone up, "Okay we've done all we can let's go; we can continue in the morning." The team had left before us and they were so sleepy; not paying attention.

My finger intertwined with Aarons as we walked out not wanting to attract too much attention.

Once we got to the hotel everyone got a separate rooms. Me and Aaron got conjoined rooms but I was sleeping in his.

I was wearing a white crop top and a pair of Aarons grey sweat pants; Aaron was wearing a white t-shirt and black pajama pants.

I got situated and threw my stuff on the chair before heading to bed.

I was swept up from behind and was thrown over Aarons shoulder when he slapped my ass hard and tossed me on the bed.

His voice was dark and dominant, "I think we've played enough for today."

He leaned in closer my lips grazing his; he whispered, "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to stand."

Wetness grew between my legs and from that moment on I knew.

It was gonna be a long night.

_____________________

@mac99martin @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @appleblossoms-posts @marie1115

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #reader x aaron+hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron #hotch x y/n #hotchner x reader #hotch smut #smut #fanfic #writing #story #criminal minds #bau #ssa hotchner #hotchner

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years ago

Text

Page Numbers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of rape and sexual assault, murder. Just getting into the angst guys...

A/N: So I decided after like two people responded (thank you guys) to split the second part into two because it was so ridiculously long. You guys don’t even want to know how much I had to cut off this to end this at a place I felt comfortable. Rest assured, you’ll probably get the next part tomorrow. Remember to like, comment, reblog, message me, send me asks, and just do anything to feed my constant need for praise and attention from strangers. As always, thank you so much! I love you all and I hope you enjoy!

___

[Part One]

“I can never figure out if I like local cases more because I get to sleep in my own bed every night we work the case, or if they make me more uncomfortable because they’re so close to home.”

Rossi glanced at Morgan, who cast his eyes to the review mirror as he spoke. Reid sat in the back, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips as he read something on his phone.

The youngest member of the BAU team had been uncharacteristically chipper over the last three weeks, constantly taking calls or responding to texts. Even when he started to ramble about something no one was really interested in listening to, the topics were about things that were of a happier nature. Things like a single grain of rice having five times more DNA than an entire human being has in their whole body, or that the term ‘nerd’ first showed up in print in the book, If I Ran the Zoo, by Dr. Seuss published in 1951.

He shoved the cell back into his pocket, looking up into Morgan’s eyes in the mirror. He knew that they knew that something was up, but he didn’t want to say anything until it got a little more serious. And it was rapidly going that way. Spencer had spent nearly every second of his free time with you, doing things like getting coffee or going back to the bookstore that just so happened to be forty minutes out of his way.

In fact, just last week you had come over to his house to have dinner and watch a movie. You begged him to watch The Princess Bride instead of some very obscure French movie that no normal person would actually own.

“I love all the new and intelligent things you show me, Spencer, but I want to show you a new and slightly less intelligent thing. Let me rub off on you for a change.”

You quoted the entire thing, your lips silently moving with every word spoken during the movie. Afterward, you confessed that you had read the book even more than you’d seen the movie and could probably quote it just as easily. He picked up a copy from the library this morning before coming into work. While he hadn’t had the chance to read it yet, or either of your own published works, he was determined to finish it before he saw you again.

It was only 493 pages, so it shouldn’t take him that long.

“What?” He blinked, his brows dipping dangerously close to those impossibly long lashes of his. Morgan looked back to the road, his own amusement twitching at his cheeks.

The car bumped over a dip in the road just before they pulled into the already packed driveway of the crime scene. Rossi shut the car off and Morgan pulled his sunglasses on before getting out of the car, but not without a teasing comment.

“Get your head in the game long enough to solve this case and you can go back to whatever has had your attention these last couple of weeks. Okay, kid?” The blush that colored his cheeks was the same shade as when he realized you were staring at him in awe that first time you met.

Inside, the mood of teasing and distractedness changed. Everyone focused while crime scene techs circled the room taking pictures and gathering every bit of tangible evidence they could possibly find.

The first victim, or by the looks of things, the last victim, was a male in his early to mid-forties. His salt and pepper hair was combed back and styled, his beard perfectly trimmed. Even in death his clothes were unrumpled, only the pool of blood-soaked into his khaki pants and maroon shirt ruined the look of an otherwise very put-together man.

He was slouched in a wooden chair pulled into the living room from the dining room table, his hands bound behind his back with three blue zip ties, his ankles bound to the legs of the chair exactly the same way.

“The victim is forty-four year old, Joseph Kyle. He’s a lawyer with Kyle & Anderson. Cause of death appears to be two gunshot wounds to the chest.”

The next victim was a woman. She wasn’t as put together as her husband, laying in a pool of her own blood on the kitchen floor. Bruises and cuts littered her arms and legs, massive handprints still marred the skin around her biceps. It went without asking that she had been sexually assaulted, her underwear hanging on the knob of a drawer and her skirt bunched around the top of her thighs.

“Synthia Kyle, forty. Stay at home mom. She was stabbed sixty-one times in the abdomen, chest, and thighs.”

The last three victims were children. Each in their own rooms, each tucked into bed and shot in the head execution-style. One look around the room and anyone would know that they were happy kids, smart and well-rounded, and loved.

“James, Massey, and Devan Kyle. Seventeen, fifteen, and ten. All shot in the head.”

For all the evidence that could be seen with their eyes; the brutal attack against the mother, the cold killing of the father, and the remorseful executions of the children, it shouldn’t have been so hard to form a profile.

“And where is the number?” Reid turned his whole body away from the little boy's room, the image of him lying in bed with his eyes closed and a bullet hole in his head was enough to turn the pits of his stomach against him.

The lead detective, a slight man with inky black curls and piercing blue eyes, led them into the dining room. The number ‘302’ was smeared across a painting hanging on the wall, the blood so thickly layered over the Botecelli copy that is dripped down and over the golden frame.

“At first glance, it would appear to be a family annihilator. His primary goal being the rape and torture of Synthia Kyle, and the rest of the family simply casualties of his rage, but just like the last three crimes, there is nothing even remotely similar in victimology or the killings.” Reid’s lips skewed to the side, crossing his arms and combing over every detail.

“Alison Crane was sexually assaulted as well.” Morgan offered the information up with skepticism, aware that, besides the numbers at every crime scene, it was the only thing that could be pulled from the two. Rossi shook his head, his eyes scanning the air as he thought.

“Alison Crane was kidnapped and beaten before she was found three days later on the Chesapeake Bay. Her wrists slashed. She was staged with remorse, a-a cloth laid over her eyes and her arms crossed over her chest. That couldn’t have been done by the same unsub.” Rossi looked over at Morgan because even still, they knew that it was the same guy because cut into the top of Alison’s arm had been the number nineteen.

It had taken Reid all of two seconds to realize they were page numbers when he’d seen the piece of paper that had been pinned to the second victim’s chest. Obviously torn from a book, the triangle scrap of paper had only had the number 85 printed on it.

And just as difficult as it had been to pin down a book during the Fisher King case, it felt as if it was ten thousand times harder to find the book being used now. All they had were page numbers and murders. They’d narrowed the list to crime novels, but there were still so many books on the list that even with Reid, it would take years to sift through them all.

Garcia has been sad to watch the young doctor leave her office in disappointment when she revealed her ability to narrow down books was still no good. Not that it was her fault since the lack of a central database for every book known to man, made it very frustrating for anyone that tried to narrow down a book based only on crime scenes. And this was still given the assumption that this book was actually published and not a story the unsub had written himself.

This would be the third homicide in this case, the first one done since the FBI had been asked to assist the DCPD. The crossing of victimology and the numbers on the victims had been enough for unit chief, Hugh Lowe to pick up his phone and request for the BAU to stop this man.

Other than the book revelation, and the geographical profile that Reid had come up with, there wasn’t much progress. It had only been two weeks since the death of the first victim and now their unsub’s body count had gone from two to seven.

A young woman kidnapped outside her dorm in Georgetown, held hostage, beaten, and raped for three days, then staged at the Chesapeake Bay with her wrists slashed and clean clothes on.

An older man was beaten in his home while his wife is away on business overseas, killed with a tire iron to the back of his head, stripped of his clothes, which sat folded beside his splayed out body, his ring finger cut off. His wedding ring had been on the clothes beside him but they couldn’t find the finger.

And now a family of five.

It was frustrating, to say the least, each agent so annoyed by the case that none of them spoke on the ride back to the BAU.

“So I don’t have the book, mon ami, but I do have a possible connection in victimology and a shortlist of possible suspects, or at the very least persons of interest,” Garcia said excitedly when all three glowering men came through the clear doors of the BAU. They each lifted their heads and eyebrows with piqued curiosity.

“My link is Georgetown. Alison was going there for a major in political science, Mr. Walters had been a chemistry teacher there before the death of his first wife ten years ago, and I just found out that our newest victims, Synthia and Joseph, met there in the spring of ‘88 as a senior and a freshman.” Garcia had to admit that their minds were quick to gather the information, turning it over in the cogs that constantly spin inside their brains, but her mind was faster.

“Did you-“

“Cross-reference Georgetown alumni with a list of crime novelists? And then cross-reference that list with people who lived in Spence’s comfort zone? ‘How did you know to do that Garcia?’ you may ask. Because I’m a genius. Quick, boys, follow me.” Her heels click in rapid succession as she leads the men into her office of computers, colorful do-dads, and pictures. When she takes a seat, Morgan leans directly over her shoulder, Reid standing just behind her, and Rossi stands just to the side of him.

The list that pops up is only four names, the tension that has been in all of their shoulders relaxes a little at the first stride in the case that they’ve made sense they started working it. Reid’s shoulders tense up again when he notices a familiar name that sits at the bottom of the list.

“This one, click on it.” He points to the line at the end and watches as Garcia moves her mouse over to the area he was pointing to and clicks to reveal a face he knows too well.

You smile back at him in your freshman year Georgetown photo, a set of bangs cut that you don’t have anymore. In the picture you seem impossibly young, your eyes full of excitement, although he knows that you aren’t that much younger than he is. Even still, for some reason, he half expects your smile to be missing teeth you seem so young.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), graduated from Georgetown in 2000 with a master's in criminology. She’s published two crime novels in the last two years. She doesn’t have too much of an eventful life; she isn’t married, has no children, pays all of her bills on time, has no detectable significant other. Mom is a detective with the Atlanta PD, Dad walked out before she was born, no siblings, nothing more than a couple speeding tickets against her.” Rossi pulls one of his hands from his folded arms, pointing at the picture with squinted eyes.

“I met her last year, very briefly, at a publishing party. We couldn’t have talked for more than ten seconds, but she seemed like a good kid. You think she’s our unsub?” Everyone looks to Reid, his expression is stone cold and unreadable.

Garcia almost wishes she hadn’t made the connection in the first place as she watches the muscle in his jaw tick, his eyes flying across the screen several times before he turned away from the group’s prying eyes. Nerves of a whole other kind had exploded inside him, forcing his hands to open and close like fluttering butterfly wings at his sides.

“I’m not sure. Just call her in for questioning.” He wants to say he doesn’t think it’s you, mostly because he doesn’t want it to be you. The thought that he could have invited a serial killer of this magnitude into his life, into the life of his team, it makes him even more nauseated than he had been earlier standing in the middle of a messy crime scene.

But when he runs to the library and finds both copies of your books, flipping to pages nineteen, eighty-five, and three hundred and two, he almost cries. On each page reads a word for word, detailed description of every murder that had happened in this case so far. The first girl even had the same name as the first victim.

By the time you make it to the BAU and you are escorted to the interrogation room, he’s read both books cover to cover. He keeps telling himself that there’s a chance you weren’t doing this, that you weren’t the killer, but it’s so hard to believe when you were the mind behind every murder.

As he looks at you from behind the one-way window pane, a mixture of anger and, strangely, hope has begun to swirl around his chest.

“You sure you don’t want to come in with me?” Prentiss says, looking back at the doctor as she reaches for the door. Spencer shakes his head, lips pursed and heart racing. He couldn’t go in their unbiased, willing to accept that you could be the unsub he’d been chasing for the last two weeks.

“Hi, I’m SSA Emily Prentiss with the BAU, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” She stretches her hand across the table and you return in kind, your shy smile stabbing into Reid’s heart like a knife.

“I’d like to say it is nice to meet you too, but I wish it were under other circumstances.” The chair across from you screeches on the floor as Emily pulls it out to sit in. She absentmindedly flicks her slick black hair over her shoulder before laying the files in front of her.

“Unfortunately, I’m always under circumstances like these, working at the BAU.”

“‘Bad guys don’t take days off,’ that’s what my mom used to say,” You glance at the file on the table, chewing the inside of your cheek like you were trying to keep yourself from saying anything more, “I was told I was needed to give my opinion on a case? Although, I’m not sure how I could be of much help. I just write.”

Spencer watches you push a piece of your hair behind your ear with a small chuckle, glancing at the window like you could see him behind it.

“You’re a published author of two books, not just any writer.” Prentiss is relaxed, letting the case file sit between you like a hook dangling between a fish and a fisherman. You keep looking down at it, curiosity eating away at your nerves the way it used to when your mother came home with a new case.

“Tell that to my mom, she’s still holding out on me joining law enforcement.” It’s a joke, but every profiler watching reads into it. It isn’t hard to fit it into a working profile, the unsub feels unappreciated in her skills as an author with the apparent disapproval her mother has over her career. To both appease her mother and stake her claim as a serious author, the unsub is killing the same way she’s written in her books.

“Why didn’t you? Join law enforcement, I mean. You’re obviously very intelligent, you had a masters from Georgetown at just seventeen, and you seem to have a pretty good grasp on the politics and procedures of law enforcement careers.” For just a moment, you consider the question and your answer to it, but Spencer can see the exact moment that it clicks in your mind on what exactly is going on.

Your entire body language changes; your shoulders curling in toward your body, the chewing of your cheek intensifying, your hands pulling back from their relaxed position on the table and tangling themselves into your lap.

“I’m not here as a possible expert witness, am I, Agent Prentiss?”

Emily responds by opening the file, at last, pushing the pictures of the crime scenes across the table for you to have a look at. Seven pictures splay out in front of you and it doesn’t take you long to register the familiarity behind them all. You have to swallow the bile in your mouth before you speak again.

“I’m a suspect.”

“You’re the only suspect.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spence reid #dr spence reid #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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degrassi-fanatic · 4 years ago

Note

Hey babie,would you like to write some hotchreid fic about "choose reid over haley",like after hotch divorce,he always deny his feelings about reid,but when some unsub mentions about "the one you most care about is in danger ",he try to save reid but the one exactly in danger is haley.And after these there will be hurt/comfort thing and happy ending...I don’t know if I’m asking too much ,just wanna say I enjoy your hotchreid fics so much.Anyway wish you have a good day!!Love you!!

thank you for sending an ask !!! ily

i changed up the prompt a bit because i personally do think, even as a hotchreid shipper, that hotch cared a lot about haley and loved her till the end. so i replaced haley in this prompt with kate joyner instead

hope you like it !!

Having just returned from their latest crime scene, Hotch wracks his brain around for any theories on their latest unsub as he steps out of the driver’s side of the SUV.

The BAU team had been sent out to the FBI Office in New York at the request of Agent Kate Joyner to assist with a case involving the abduction and subsequent murder of federal agents. Their unsub somehow managed to pluck highly intelligent and capable agents off the street and lure them away to a secondary location where he would riddle them with bullets, only to bring their corpses back to the city and leave them strung up in areas with high foot traffic; all without being seen.

It was no surprise that Kate had decided to amass as many resources as possible, she had even created an FBI-NYPD task force. This case was going nowhere and their volume of victims was only increasing as time went on.

He knows he’s not the only one desperately hoping that they’ll get any sort of lead soon.

As Hotch makes his way towards the glass doors of the New York FBI office, he feels his cellphone vibrate in the pocket of his suit jacket. Without looking at the caller ID, he assumes it’s one of his team members and accepts the call.

Before he can greet whoever it is on the other line, a gravelly voice begins speaking, one he does not recognize.

“Agent Hotchner.” the unknown man says.

“Yes, who is this?”

“Oh, me?” he asks flippantly, “Who I am doesn’t matter right now. It’s what I have, or rather who I have.”

In the middle of the sidewalk just outside the office, Hotch stops in his tracks; ignoring all the passive aggressive looks sent his way as people wade around him and the occasional shove against his shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you really think you could come after me and not suffer the consequences?” the man sneers through the phone, “You’re going to regret coming to New York.”

“Who do you have?” he asks, not caring for any of the vague threats the man was sending his way.

“The one you care for the most.”

His stomach drops and immediately, Hotch tries to remember the last time he called Reid, the last time he saw him, and for some reason both instances seem so long ago that he wonders if Reid hasn’t already been shot yet.

“Goodbye, Agent Hotchner.” the man says.

And with that, he hangs up and the call ends.

For a moment, his feet stay planted where they are against the pavement and he cannot move.

Then, it feels as though someone has dragged his head under freezing water and he begins racing into the office; darting past everyone as he makes his way towards the board room where they had been instructed to use as their home base.

As he makes it to the door, his eyes survey the room frantically as he checks to see if anyone else is missing; Rossi is arguing with Prentiss over something trivial, JJ is flipping through case files with Morgan, Garcia has her laptop opened in front of her and is typing away, and…

Reid.

Reid is there, staring at the crime scene board as he pushes his thumb between his lips in deep thought.

“Spencer!” he calls out as he rushes over to him, garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

He watches Reid twist around to look at him, a confused expression spreading across the features of his face. The only expression only grows as Hotch rushes over to him, dragging him into a tight hug. It’s a tad bit awkward at first as Reid’s arms are squished between their chests and his whole body has grown stiff but he cannot bring himself to care about that because he has Reid warm and alive in his arms.

It only gets better once Reid retracts his arms from between them to wrap around Hotch’s back as he returns the embrace.

Reid was okay, he realizes as he pushes his face into Reid’s hair, ignoring the tickling sensation caused by his tousled tufts.

He was fine.

“I thought you were… Thank God that you’re alright.” he says breathlessly as he pulls away, “But, the unsub, he said on the phone that—”

Wait, if Reid wasn’t the one the unsub had abducted, then who was? It couldn’t have been anyone from his team since they were all here and accounted for. Perhaps, the man had gotten a hold of the wrong agent’s phone number or maybe he had simply…

Oh no, Hotch thinks as dread pools somewhere deep inside of him.

“Where’s Kate?”

“We thought she was with you.”

It had taken them a couple of gruelling hours but eventually they had managed to figure out where their unsub, who they discovered to be thirty-three year old Peter Samuels, was holding Kate captive. Although Samuels was clearly a man with an above average level of intelligence, he was clearly lacking when it came to fighting and was overpowered by Prentiss and Morgan within minutes.

In the end, Kate was alright. A bit bruised and a little worse for wear than Hotch would have preferred but she was alive and that’s what mattered. He was still rather reluctant leaving her so soon after such a traumatic event and would have stayed in New York for a bit longer but Kate had all but shooed him off, stating that she didn’t need him coddling her for her entire leave.

Now, the team is back on board the jet and well on their way back home. It’s dark outside the windows and the cabin lights have been dimmed. The team, with the exception of Reid and Hotch, are fast asleep in their own seats; the exhaustion of the last couple of days finally catching up to them.

Hotch fishes his cellphone out of his pocket and pulls up Kate’s contact information; she never explicitly stated if texting was considered coddling.

“Is Agent Joyner going to be alright?” Reid whispers from beside him, in an effort to not wake the others.

“Yeah,” he answers as he finishes sending a message, “It’s going to take some time but she’ll recover.”

“That’s good.” Reid murmurs.

Hotch makes a soft noise in agreement as he tucks in his cellphone back into his pocket. Shifting around in his seat as quietly as he can, he attempts to get into a comfortable position so he too can rest up before they land; he ends up sinking into his chair with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes closed.

“Can I ask you a question?” Reid pipes up again.

“Sure.” he mumbles back.

“Why did you think I was the one Samuels took?”

For a brief moment, Hotch considers feigning sleep but, then Reid is gently shaking his arm to gather his attention once more.

“Hotch?” he whispers, “Aaron?”

“It’s something he said on the phone.” he admits quietly, “He said he took the one I cared for the most.”

“Oh.”

The hand on his bicep falls away and the absence of it feels like a gaping wound.

Right away, Hotch is opening his eyes and sitting up right.

“I’m sorry.” he says frantically, “I know this is inappropriate and you’re probably uncomfortable—”

Oh God, why did Hotch say that? Maybe he could blame it on a lack of sleep? Or he could say he misspoke somehow?

“No, wait, listen—”

He wouldn’t fault Reid if he wanted to file a complaint against him for inappropriate advances or some other form of misconduct. Any formal punishment was far better than the torture he would endure if the rest of the team learned that he was preying on their youngest member.

“I completely understand if you want to file a complaint—”

“Hotch, that’s the last thing—”

Now, Reid will most likely want to transfer out of the BAU. Who wouldn’t after learning their boss had more-than platonic feelings for them? No, he couldn’t do that to Reid. He knows how much the BAU means to the other man; he’ll be the one to leave.

“It probably disturbs you to be on the receiving end of my feelings.” Hotch says “I know I’m old and I’m not enjoyable to be around and that I come with far too much—”

Before he can get another word out, he feels a pair of hands fly to both sides of Hotch’s face, followed by a pair of lips slotting between his own.

It takes a second for his brain and body to realize what’s going on but, once he does, he reels Reid in closer; practically pulling the other man into his lap.

Far too soon for his liking, however, Reid pulls his mouth away.

“Hmm?” Hotch hums questioningly, his eyes still closed.

“I care for you too.” Reid whispers.

“That’s nice.”

“That’s all you have to say?” he questions, his breath fanning out over Hotch’s mouth.

“Sorry, my brain is coming back online.”

Hotch hears him let out a soft laugh and that alone is incentive enough to finally open his eyes again. He’s greeted by the sight of Reid smiling in the feeble lighting of the cabin, his lips glistening with spit and a faint flush across his cheeks that is almost undetectable with how dark it is.

“Well, when it does,” Reid says fondly, “Tell it to ask me out on a date.”

“Will do.”

#criminal minds #~ask~#~fic~#hotchreid

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hotchscotchh · 4 years ago

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hey congrats on 100!!!

could you do ✉️ with moreid with the phrase “for him, i’ll do anything” thank you thank you

Thank you!! This is definitely not the best thing I have ever written, but uh... I answered the prompt lol

“For him, I’d do anything.”

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Spencer had tried to get himself hurt again. They were in Scranton, Pennsylvania. A team of men were murdering pastors who openly preached homophobia. Honestly, some of the team were considering it a public service kill.

They will never be the type of people to condone killing, but blatant homophobia was something that none of them would stand for. Especially because two of the men on their team were openly interested in men and pursuing a relationship together.

By the time they managed to find this team, they had taken an entire church’s congregation hostage. They had found them by pure luck. The team of murderers had been escalating for a few days now, changing from a murder a week to a murder a day, almost immediately after the BAU arrived. In their escalation, they made mistakes. It was almost a given. They didn’t wear gloves, but they cleaned up after themselves. They must have been in a rush to get away from the crime scene because there was a partial fingerprint left on the doorknob.

They ran it and found their one of their unsub’s fingerprints in the prisoner database. He’d been arrested previously for assault and battery, and was involved in a lawsuit that alleged a “Christian summer camp” of being a site for conversion therapy.

Anyway, when the BAU got to the church, they were face to face with at least 10 armed men, ready to shoot their way out of there. They had guessed the team consisted of around five members; they never would have expected this.

Back to Spencer. It is a well-known fact that the man is the proverbial trouble magnet. He had been the first one out of the SUV, so he was in direct line of fire when the men started shooting. Derek was in the seat next to him and immediately jumped out of the SUV, putting himself in front of Spencer. The next round of shots rang out, and Derek went down. So did Spencer. They finally managed to get swat on site and took the men out. There were already ambulances waiting for them, thank god.

Spencer somehow managed to only suffer from a flesh wound in his arm. Through at through. He made it through the ER with some stitches and a round of antibiotics. Derek, however, wasn’t so lucky. He had been shot in the leg. It could’ve easily been a flesh wound like Spencer’s, but the bullet had ripped through a muscle. He was rushed into surgery to have in repaired. Spencer is currently freaking out. He had been asking for Derek the since the second they made it into the hospital, but no one would tell him where he was. They wanted to keep him as calm as possible and thought that him not knowing would keep him calmer than the stress of knowing that Derek was currently in surgery.

They were wrong. He started yelling the second they told him. “Are you all stupid? Why in the hell would I be calmer having no idea where he is? You should ha-”

He was cut off by a surgeon entering the waiting room. “Derek Morgan?”

Spencer stepped forward. “I’m his medical proxy.”

“He’s going to be just fine. We reconstructed the muscle. He won’t be able to walk without crutches for about a month and will have to do some physical therapy. You’re more than welcome to come back and see him now.”

Spencer nodded and followed the surgeon back to the recovery rooms. He didn’t look behind him, but he knew

Hotch and probably JJ were following him. Spencer nearly collapsed in relief when his hand found Derek’s. Derek smiled up at him from his bed. “Hey, Pretty Boy. Glad to see you’re okay.” Spencer had let a few tears fall from his eyes. He gave a watery laugh at the comment and leaned down to give his lover a kiss before pulling back and punching him on the arm.

Hotch interrupted their moment. “Reid, why don’t you go get some coffee?” Reid nodded, knowing that Hotch would be wanting to give Morgan the “you’re an idiot” talk. He heard JJ say she would come with him. He knew she would be trying to apologize, and he knew he would forgive. Spencer had just been stressed and worried earlier. He felt bad for snapping.

When the younger agents left the room, Hotch moved to sit in the plastic chair next to Morgan’s bed. “That was stupid, Morgan.”

Derek gave a weak smile. “I know, Hotch. But, for him, I’d do anything.”

Hotch gave a smile, if that’s what you want to call it, and rubbed Morgan’s shoulder. “I know. Let’s try not to let it happen again, though. I don’t particularly enjoy losing two agents for a month. Don’t give me that look, you know Reid is going to weasel his way into staying home with you.”

#em’s 100 follower celebration #criminal minds #moreid #spencer reid #Derek Morgan #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #drabble

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spencers-dria · 4 years ago

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Light Amongst the Darkness

Ch. 13 of Someone to Stay

Spencer Reid x fem reader

POV: Spencer

I wake up for the third time this morning as a technician comes in the room to take my vital signs. It seems like it's always something, labs, vital signs, or medicine. I look over to see Y/N curled up on the couch, sleeping soundly. She really could sleep through just about anything, but somehow she seems to always know when I get up.

I slip out of bed and make my way to the bathroom as quietly as possible to shower and get ready for the day. I feel a hand grab by wrist as I pass the couch. I look down and see her still half asleep, her eyes aren't even open yet.

"Spence?"

"It's okay, go back to sleep. I'm just going to take a shower."

"Let me know if you need anything" she says through a yawn as she rolls back over. I can tell she has fallen back asleep within seconds by the sound of soft snoring. I can't help but smile. It was an adorable quirk of hers.

By now I'm able to take the bandages off and wash the surgical wound. I wince slightly as the gauze pulls as the staples. It seems do be doing okay. Y/N has really been helping a lot. The nurses here seem to know her well and let her do as much as she wants to help take care of me. I've tried convincing her that she's not at work and she doesn't have to be my nurse but she insists.

I make my way out of the steamy bathroom in fresh sweatpants as I towel dry my hair. Y/N is wide-awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with bandages all laid out on the side table.

I start to sit down next to her as I try one last time to convince her to take a break. "You know you really don't have to..."

"Shush. I want to help."

I turn to face her as she delicately dresses the wound after covering it with an antibiotic ointment. I had to admit, it hurt much less when she did it. I watch her as she puts all of her focus into what she's doing. I really enjoy getting to see her do what she does best, what she's passionate about. She looks really beautiful, despite having just woken up. It's almost not fair. Her hair is hanging down in its natural light waves, I'm almost tempted to reach out and run my hands through it. I can feel my skin tingle where she's placed her hand on my other shoulder for balance as the leans in to examine her finished work. I shake the feeling from my head. I can't scare her off.

After she's finished, I slip on a t-shirt as she pulls out her laptop and we settle into the hospital bed, ready to watch the final Harry Potter movie. Downtime in the hospital had allowed us to make our way through the series much quicker than anticipated. She had asked for a couple extra days off, which I fought against and lost. This was my fourth, and hopefully last day staying in the hospital.

As we get into the movie I hear her say "mmm I miss it."

"Miss what?"

"Hogwarts" she laughs as though this was obvious.

I give her a quizzical look.

She continues. "You know, the wizarding world, in Orlando?"

"Ohhh yeah I almost forgot they had that."

She pauses the movie and turns to look at me with wide eyes. "You mean you've never been?"

"No. By the time they built it I guess I was older and already working for the FBI."

"Spencer I only went my first time in college." She laughs. "You're never too old to go to Hogwarts!"

She sits for a moment, lost in her thoughts, before her face lights up with a huge smile.

"We have to go."

"What, the two of us?"

"No genius, me and Hotch." We both giggle at the thought as she elbows me. "I used to take road trips with my friends back home all the time. It's been awhile though..."

I can tell she's been a bit homesick lately. She misses her friends and family. No one has been able to visit her yet. So I decide that this is a great idea for us both.

I look over to her, unable to hide a grin. "When are we going?"

"Really? Really??! You'll go? Oh my gosh, Spencer!" She jumps up out of the bed and starts pacing the room.

"We have to start planning. When do you want to go? I have to ask for days off. You will too of course. I can't wait to show you everything. We'll have to get you a robe..."

"Y/N!" She stops to look at me, as I can't help but laugh at her.

"Take deep breaths. We have plenty of time. You really get excited for trips, huh?"

"Oh you have no idea! Vacations are my absolute favorite! Planning is half the fun."

She stops and loses herself in thought for a moment. "It's not weird, is it? Us taking a trip together?"

I simply shake my head and she continues to plan out loud.

Her question makes me think. We are just friends. Friends can take trips together. My thoughts drift to the events that took place a little over a week ago at her apartment and at the bar. We still haven't talked about that. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it, but ever since then I have taken extra notice of little things.

We used to sit apart to watch movies together, but ever since that day she seems to snuggle next to me. I find myself incredibly aware of how close she is, or when her arm brushes mine, my skin igniting at every touch.

She eventually settles down and makes her way back over to the bed, setting us up to continue the movie. Her head settles onto my shoulder, as if it belongs there. As her gaze falls on the screen, my gaze falls on her, and I can't seem to tear it away. I love watching her reactions. Despite having seen the movie so many times before, her expressions are as dramatic as someone who is seeing it for the first time. She told me she still cries at the boathouse scene, every time. I love that about her, her ability to see light in dark places, good among the evil. She is definitely the shining light amongst the darkness I face every day at work. I never want to lose that...lose her.

Eventually the nurse comes in with the discharge paperwork and instructions for wound care. They try to offer me prescriptions for pain medications at home, but I insist on sticking with Tylenol and Advil. Y/N drives me home and helps me carry my things up to my apartment. After we make our way inside. She immediately starts cleaning, switching on some music before she gets to work. I think about telling her to stop but I know better by now. Instead I lie across the couch and grab the book I was reading before I left for the case.

I try to focus on the words in front of me, but I find myself reading the same page over again as my eyes are continually drawn to Y/N. I see her go in my room and come back out with a laundry basket and bed sheets. After starting a load, she makes her way to the kitchen, wiping down counters and cleaning off any dishes in the sink. She's too focused on each task to notice my lingering stares.

She had come back out dressed in some loose fitting, high-waisted denim shorts and a black tank. She's pulled back the top half of her hair and tied it with a silk, gold scarf. She's still got no makeup on with her glasses. I normally take absolutely no notice of what women wear, but I really admire her style. It's always changing, completely unique and completely hers.

I try to hold back a grin as I watch her dance around the kitchen, barefoot as she sings a song I don't recognize.

"You get ready you get all dressed up, to go nowhere in particular. Back to work or the coffee shop, it don't matter because it's enough to be young and in looovee."

I can't put my finger on it but something about her has definitely been different lately. There's a new glow about her, and I'm drawn to it like a moth.

During her cleaning she's also opened up all my curtains and window's letting light in. She brought home all the flowers that had been dropped off during my hospital stay and is rearranging them into small vases to spread across the apartment. Its almost as if her light is so infectious, she's spreading it into every corner of my life, my home. I blush at the thought of how nice it would be to have her around all the time.

Every once in awhile I catch her gaze and she simply smiles at me as she continues to sing with equal enthusiasm. I appreciate that she's finally comfortable enough around me to sing, to be completely herself.

When she finally runs out of things to busy herself with, she makes her way to the couch and sits across from me, handing me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as she bites into one she made for herself.

"Thank you" I say appreciatively with a mouth half full of food.

"Thanks for everything actually; cleaning my apartment, staying with me at the hospital, taking care of me...and just for sticking around, being my friend."

She leans forward placing her elbows on her knees. "I couldn't have found anyone better if I had hand picked them myself." She laughs at her own cheesiness.

I cough, clearing my throat for a moment. "Should we talk about the other night?"

"The other night? Oh!...oh." I notice her face turns a bit red and she breaks eye contact, staring at the wood floors instead.

"We don't have to I just thought..."

"No it's okay. We should talk about it. Well, first of all I want to apologize for making you uncomfortable. Sometimes when I drink I flirt with just whoever is around. It's not personal. I'm really sorry." I notice her start to nervously pick at the hem of her clothing, a sign of her anxiety.

"No! No you didn't make me uncomfortable." I shake my head, biting my lip as I try to think of how to continue.

"It was unexpected. I've never seen you be so confident. It was really s-s-something else." I feel my face heat up as I catch myself almost saying something I regret. I shift in my seat, incredibly aware of the thick tension lingering in the air.

She finally speaks up. "So the trip? I guess we can pick some dates once you're back at work. Then we can request off and buy some tickets. Sound good?"

"Mmmhhmm." My heart is still racing from the previous conversation. I can't believe how quickly I go from completely at ease around her to a hot mess of nerves. I tell my self it's nothing, that it will go away if I only give it time. It has to.

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #writing #harry potter #original story #spencer reid x y/n #lana del ray lyrics #universal #wizarding world #deathly hallows #Spotify

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flightsoffandom · 4 years ago

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Co-Conspirators Part 4

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Words: 7558

Summary: Strauss forces you and Hotch to talk to an UnSub that you would be much happier to forget existed. Even with Hotch’s protests Strauss orders you both to go. Once there things don't go exactly how either of you expected.

Warnings: Canon Criminal Minds level violence, Stalker-ish and creepy UnSub, vague mention of non-depression related self harm, and cussing.

Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. Was a good chunk of this chapter inspired by Season 3 Episode 14, ‘Damaged’, the scene where Hotch is ready to fist fight an UnSub to protect himself and Reid? Yes, yes it was. Took me a minute to write this because I wanted to do certain feelings in this chapter justice, hopefully it all came through and makes sense. Feel free to tell me if it didn't turn out as good as I intended it to be.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators – Part 1–Part 2–Part 3–Part 4*–Part 5–Part 6

After Aaron and Jack spent the night, your relationship progressed further. Not much changed, considering how busy you both were. But any extra time you both had was spent with each other. You knew that your feelings for him had grown, approaching the realm of love. You weren’t going to express those emotions, though. At least not first since you weren’t sure exactly what Aaron’s feelings were. While you knew Aaron was serious about this relationship, you wanted to wait for him to take the emotional confession lead. After all he had been through Aaron deserved to take things at whatever pace he needed too. It was a good thing you and Aaron had going. Even with having to keep the relationship a secret, it just worked between you two. You started staying at Aaron’s apartment more and more. Jack really seemed to enjoy having you around more often. You relished spending more time with Jack as well. Seeing him and Aaron interacting together and being able to spend time with them both was enough to make you forget about whatever horrible thing you had seen while on a case. Between hotel stays, while traveling for work and staying with Aaron, you barely made it back to your apartment anymore. You didn’t find yourself missing your place all that much. You did manage to get Aaron and Jack to stay the night at your place again once or twice, but it felt more like a vacation home of sorts than your own. Staying at Aaron's had become your happy little normal over a handful of months that helped relieve the burdens of work.

You were currently sitting in Hotch’s office with the door closed. Usually, this could have a chance at being a fun time, but considering Strauss was closed in here with the both of you. It was far from a good time. Hotch was irritated and couldn't completely hide it from his voice, “We won't be going.” You bounced your leg nervously, just listening instead of interrupting the conversation. Both Strauss and Hotch were staring each other down as he continued speaking, “The team has another case. We are needed there.” Strauss still hasn't sat down yet, a power move on her part, “You both have been specifically requested. He refuses to talk to anyone else.” Hotch tenses up and is about to argue. Strauss cuts him off. She starts walking out, “That’s an order.” Strauss opens the door and stops, looking back at both of you, “For BOTH of you.” The door slams closed behind her, leaving both you and Hotch sitting together in silence. Your leg had not stopped bouncing even after Strauss left. Which Hotch easily noticed even as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Hotch sighs, “You don't have to-” You stop him, “Yes, I do. WE both do.” You weren't happy about this. You were extremely anxious. With anger right behind it, trying to fight to be your dominant emotion. Hotch looks up at you. His face had softened since Strauss left. However, his brow was still furrowed, and he looked beyond annoyed. Hotch watched you, “We don't have to give him the satisfaction…” You stand up, “I don't plan on letting him scare me into not being able to do my job. Let’s go pay Ben Monte a visit and see what the asshole has to tell us.”

Ben Monte. Ben was a particular sore spot with you. He was an unsub from a year or so ago. Ben had killed eighteen people before the BAU got called in. He was tricky because he didn’t care about race, age, or sex. Ben enjoyed cutting people up while they were still alive and toying with their organs while they could feel it. He chose victims seemingly at random. Only later to find out that Ben liked taking people with strong and stubborn personalities. Unfortunately, that means Ben set his sights on you after you and Hotch pulled him in for an interrogation but didn't have any evidence to hold him on. Luckily for you, though, by the time Ben tried to make his move to get you, the team was ready to arrest him. You willingly agreed to go as bait to lure Ben out, and he fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. But Ben Monte shot you moments before the team could grab him. Ben had never used a gun before, so you hadn’t been wearing a vest. You spent a few days in the hospital but were able to recover without too many issues. There were some nightmares, but you had put the whole thing behind you. That was until Ben Monte claimed he had other unfound victims and refused to speak to anyone but the team who originally interrogated him. Meaning you and Hotch. You weren't thrilled about it, but if Ben was telling the truth and you could get the information out of him. Then you would suck it up and talk to the monster again.

After the first in-prison interview of sorts, that's when you learned just how much Ben Monte ‘liked’ you. Ben was disgustingly infatuated with you. Since he had only gotten a chance to shoot you and watch you bleed, Ben clung to a fantasy of making you suffer more like he did with all his other victims. Which Ben loved describing in vivid detail to you in between answering the questions you asked him. Ben was so descriptive at times that you could picture the plans he had for you, and it made your stomach churn. You had enough self-control to keep yourself composed during that horrible conversation, but it took a toll afterward. Those scenarios Ben described to you had burrowed their way into your head. Hotch had witnessed you live through this before. Hotch had even seen the aftermath of that interview when you became so tired from the nightmares stopping you from sleeping. Seen the agitation that followed that had caused you to start more than a few fights when anyone questioned you. It took some mandatory therapy to get through it. So you could understand why he was so upset for you. While you appreciate him being so protective of you, you weren't going to let something like this stop you from bringing closure to the families of the victims.

Hotch went to tell the team where you both were going. You went right down to the van, getting into the passenger seat. Normally you wouldn't mind driving, but you didn't think it was a good idea at the moment. Trying not to think about it too much, you try forcing yourself to think about anything else. Aaron gets into the car, takes one look at you, and decides not to start the vehicle. He looks at you, “Do you want to talk about it?” You make a curious humming noise, trying to feign ignorance, “Talk about what?” Aaron scowls at you, “The reason you're holding your side and who we are about to go talk to?” You look down, and indeed your hand had gravitated to your side. You were pressing right on the scar Ben gave you. Consciously realizing what you were doing makes the dull pain in your side come to the front of your senses. You let out a long sigh, “I don't want to talk about it right now…” You frown and look out the window as you finish speaking, “After this little… interview… I’ll probably still not want to talk about it, but I will need to.” You feel Aaron’s hand wrap around the one covering your long healed wound. Your breath catches in your throat, and you tighten your hand around his. Your emotional composure wavered a bit. You knew you couldn't bury your feelings inside forever. You wanted to make it through this accursed trip. Knowing it will at least turn into temporary anger, which would work to your benefit while talking to Ben Monte.

Aaron left his hand in yours even as he started driving. It was silent for a while. Since it was going to be kind of a long drive, you didn't want it to stay quiet. That would give you too much of a chance of getting lost in your thoughts. So you turned back to Hotch, “Let’s talk about something.” Aaron quickly glances at you with an eyebrow raised, “What’s strategy should we go in with?” You laughed when Aaron went right into talking about work, “Nope, we aren't going to talk about work. Not right now.” Aaron flatly states, “We are on the clock.” You roll your eyes, “We've never needed a strategy while interrogating together before.” You lean your head back, “Plus, what kind of work are we supposed to do in a car for like three hours?” Hotch glares over at you. You respond with a whine, “Please just indulge me… the person you happen to be dating by the way…” Aaron’s face softens even as he rolls his eyes, “Resorting to emotional blackmail?” You nod and give him a smug smile, “Anything to get my way.”

Aaron chuckles, shaking his head, “What would you like to talk about then?” You let out a pleased hum, “We should go see a movie soon, take Jack with us and completely turn our phones off. Maybe even leave them at home or in the car, so we don't get called in…” You let yourself trail off. Aaron’s hand tightens around yours, showing some concern. You look out the window, watching the scenery as you add, “Maybe we could take a vacation… somewhere fun…” You can feel his eyes watching you, so you turn to look at him, “What?” Aaron tries to study your face while still driving safely. After a moment, he finally speaks up, “Coming from the person who was so intent on going back to work after being shot that the hospital practically begged me to get you out of there? I think you can understand my cause for concern.” You sigh and nod, “Well, I’m a work-a-holic…” You smile, “But… Since being in a relationship with you, I find it a lot easier to push work aside so I can be with you and Jack.” A smile spreads across Aaron’s face. You playfully roll your eyes, “Don’t let it go to your head. I still enjoy catching bad guys, and I don’t see that drastically changing anytime soon.” Aaron brings your hand up to his face to place a kiss on the back of your hand, “I wouldn't have it any other way.” You smile as you and Aaron start talking about mundane potential plans.

Whatever pleasant conversion you were having with Hotch abruptly stopped when you saw the sign on the side of the road, stating that the prison was only a few miles away. Even if you wanted to continue talking, you couldn't have. Considering your mind went completely blank about what you had just been discussing. Your whole body tenses up, feeling the meeting looming over your head. Your leg starts to bounce. Letting your anxiety out now so you can focus when you get inside the prison. When Hotch parks, your hand separates from his. You practically leap out of the car. Taking a deep breath of fresh air in order to calm yourself. Hotch walks over and waits, letting you take your time. You close your eyes. Pushing all your emotions down and bringing your professional demeanor to the surface. Once you feel as prepared as you’ll ever be, you head up to the prison's main door. You can't help but comment, “I don't understand Ben Monte’s obsession with us.” Hotch follows behind and scoffs, “Unfortunately, he just has an obsession with you. He tolerates me because he knows I won't let you talk to him alone.” You sigh, knowing Hotch was right. Once through the door, you are the one who takes the lead on the introductions, “SSA’s [Y/L/N] and Hotchner.” The guards look over the sheet checking for your names. You start pulling the gun off your belt before they even ask, knowing the drill. Hotch does the same, even taking his second gun out and handing it over.

You felt a bit exposed and vulnerable, but you didn't let yourself dwell on it. Hotch already looked more tense than usual, which was saying something. The guards guided you through the signals to get in and out of the room you would be interviewing Ben Monte in. Once that was understood, both you and Hotch were led into the room. As soon as you saw Ben’s face, you internally started panicking, but you knew how to control every expression and your demeanor. So you kept yourself in check. The door closed behind you both, locking the three of you into a room together.

Instantly Ben Monte lurched towards you, his chains getting caught on the table, “My, My. Look at you. My favorite little canvas.” You stare Ben down, showing only indifference at his statement. You pull the chair at the table out and sit down, “I’m not here to play games… You said you had information for us. If you're wasting my time, then I will leave.” Hotch was standing behind you, glaring down at Ben. Ben looked from Hotch to you, “Ohh… I have so much information for you, but I’ve missed you so much. I’ve only had crime articles you were featured in to sustain me. They don’t take enough pictures of you. I’ve only been able to collect maybe a handful. I like to keep you close to me.” Ben reaches towards you, trying to touch you. You firmly respond, “No.” Ben freezes before pulling back, “You’re such a tease. Only showing me a little blood and then throwing me in here.” You continue your blank stare, “Information or I walk.” Ben grumbles, shifting about in his chair, “You are no fun.” When Ben starts giving you usable information, Hotch sits next to you and takes notes.

Ben stays mostly on topic until he starts talking about what he did to the victim. Ben looks you dead in the eyes, “With that little work of art, I worked too fast. Wasn't as fun.” Ben grins at you, showing all his teeth menacingly, “I learned after that. Taking my time. Like I am with you.” Every part of you wants to tense up and hit Ben in the face, but you control yourself. Ben keeps talking, “I have so many plans for you. Peeling your skin away nice and slow. Maybe even giving it time to grow back. Scars can be exciting things…” Ben lets himself trail off, staring right where he shot you. Hotch tenses up, staring daggers at the serial killer in front of you. You sigh, “This is tedious Ben, if you really called us out here to just play with us, then I will make sure you aren't allowed visitors for the rest of your life.” Ben glares at you this time, “I like the mouth on you, but it only goes so far. Do you think you could still bitch this much if I cut your tongue out?” Hotch speaks up for the first time during the interview, “You will watch how you speak to my agent. We are here as a courtesy to the families of your victims. Not to be part of whatever sick fantasies you have.” Hotch’s voice was loud and stern, intimidating enough to get Ben to comply again. Ben begrudgingly gives you more details about a few other murders he committed.

After giving you some more useful information, Ben slowly gets off topic again, “I've never been one for guns. You're the only work of art I’ve ever shot.” You glare at Ben, “I’m not a work of art, and neither were your victims. You don't own or control anyone.” Ben starts laughing, “Are you sure about that? Maybe I don't own my other playthings… but you… I think me and you share a special connection.” You scoff, rolling your eyes, “We don’t have a connection. You're not the first person who has shot me, and I am sure you won't be the last.” Ben laughs louder, utterly pleased with himself, “I am sure that's true, but me and you share a mark.” Ben doesn’t elaborate further but instead goes into talking about other things, “After you locked me into this place, I’ve had loads of time to think about what I would do to you when I get out of here.” This actually pulls a laugh out of you, “You’re not getting out of here… ever.” You cross your arms, smirking, “I made sure the court gave you life without parole.” Ben doesn’t look overly pleased about your attitude, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I was thinking about cutting you open and poking around inside you.” You show no expression, trying not to think about what Ben says, “Are you done telling me about your other victims then?” Ben doesn't answer. He just continues his psychopathic rambling, “Think you would feel it if I pulled some of your insides to the outside?” Ben went into further detail, being graphically descriptive as he kept going. You felt your stomach churn even as you stared Ben down like you weren’t affected.

Hotch, however, was finished with the games, “That's enough. We are done here.” Hotch stands up quickly, pushing himself away from the table and going to the door. You make no additional acknowledgment to Ben. You just casually raise from your seat and walk to the door. Hotch presses the button to get out. The tone plays, and you wait. Nothing happens. Ben starts laughing again, clapping as he does, “It’s lunchtime. The guard who is supposed to be out there has a real problem of being a chatty Cathy after he gets his food. So you're both stuck with me a while longer.” Hotch tenses up again but turns around ever so slowly, “Is that supposed to scare us? We have dealt with much worse than you.” Ben shrugs, “It should at least unnerve you both. Since I get to keep talking about what I want to do with our favorite little agent.” You turn around, ready to speak up, but then you notice Hotch’s behavior. Hotch went from tense to calm, which wasn't a great sign.

Hotch confidently takes his suit jacket off, before pulling off his necktie in one solid motion. He stands on the outskirts of the room, watching protectively. Hotch stares down Ben the whole time. You couldn't lie to yourself, Hotch’s overly aggressive behavior did make you feel better. Aaron would have never let anything happen to you before when you were just co-workers and friends, but now that you were more than that, there was no way in hell Aaron was going to sit by and watch someone treat you like this. Ben was still smirking and didn't even bother looking at Hotch. Ben just kept looking right at you, “Do you remember when I shot you?” You look at Ben and shrug at him, “It wasn't really that memorable. I’ve been shot before, so you shooting me isn't anything special.” Ben menacingly chuckles, “I remember every second of it. You bleed so well.” Hotch steps closer to him, ready to restrain Ben if need be. He tilts his head, gazing right through your shirt to the spot of the scar he gave you, “I only wish I could have watched for longer…” Ben looks back up at you, “It was hard to manage in prison, but I was able to give myself a little souvenir…” Ben stands up. Hotch, in one quick motion, pins Ben to the wall. Hotch had Ben held to the wall with his forearm on Ben’s throat. Hotch practically growls as he speaks, “I’ve had enough of you threatening my agent.” Ben seemed to enjoy Hotch’s reaction causing him to laugh.

Ben’s laugh was a spine chilling sound. It didn't help that it echoed in the concrete interrogation room. Hotch kept Ben in place, but that didn't stop Ben’s hands from moving. You quickly stood up, ready to help restrain the monster if he tried anything. Ben, however, had another plan in mind. A huge toothy grin spreads over Ben’s face as he lifts the fabric for his prisoner uniform shirt. Revealing practically a mirror image of your own scar on Ben’s body. Your blood turned to ice, and you couldn’t control the fact that your eyes widened. Ben reminisced and traced his fingers over his scar, “It took a lot of effort to get a gun from one of the guards and shoot myself. It was worth it, though…” Ben looks up with his eyes meeting yours, “Now we are connected…” Your so far maintained composure started to shatter. Hotch pushed his arm harder against Ben’s throat. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hand, hoping it will help keep you grounded as you spoke, “We are not connected. Clearly, you put a lot of thought into wasting your time.”

The best you could do was temporarily dissociate with what was happening, so you didn't give Ben the satisfaction of your emotional response. You stare blankly at the prisoner pinned to the wall, “Prison hasn't been good for your memory… That’s not even where you shot me.” It was a bold-faced lie, but it had the desired effect. Ben’s grin falls off his face, and he glares at you, “Prove it.” You stick your hands into your pockets, scoffing, “I don’t have to prove anything to the likes of you… I already proved you were guilty in a court of law. That's good enough for me.” You are able to force a smile onto your face. This causes Ben to get belligerent, starting to fight against Hotch’s hold. Hotch doesn't flinch and keeps Ben in place. Ben keeps struggling, “Show me then! Prove it!” You didn't know how much longer you could keep the act up, so you decided to give the exit door another shot. You press the buzzer and hear the sound, waiting a moment.

By some miracle, the guard had come back. The guard looked more than confused, “What the hell happened?” You moved out the door without saying another word. You hear Hotch drop Ben to the ground. Immediately Ben starts screaming, and the guard has to restrain Ben. Hearing Ben’s chains yank against the table, “SHOW ME! PROVE IT!” Ben Monte kept repeating this. Even after the room door closed, you could still hear his voice through the walls. Hotch stays behind for a moment, and you overhear him yelling at someone, “Get your damn employees in line. When two agents… fuck when anyone is in a room with a prisoner, you NEVER leave that room unsupervised!” You stopped at a gated checkpoint to wait for Hotch while listening to what was going on. There was a short pause which could only be for the person making an excuse. Because Hotch went right back to yelling, “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” There was another pause before Hotch spat out, “Good.” Then you heard him walking down the hall. While you were waiting, that’s when you first noticed it, the dull pain in your side. You press the heel of your hand into your scar in hopes of stopping the pain somehow. You look back when you hear Hotch walking up to you. Hotch still looked stiff, with his suit jacket and tie thrown over one of his arms. The crumpling pad of paper in his hand showed that Hotch was beyond pissed, but when he saw you were looking at him, he automatically softened up.

While waiting for the guard on the other side of the gate to let you through, Aaron looked down at you, “Are you okay?” You stared at him for a moment, “I don’t know how to answer that right now.” It came out in a much flatter and distant tone then you had planned. You felt a bit numb like you hadn’t fully processed what you just experienced. So you didn’t know how you felt. The only thing you knew for sure was that no matter how much pressure you put on your scar, the pain was getting worse. Aaron further furrowed his brows, and he tried to gauge your overall well being. The automatic door swung open and you walked through it before Aaron had too much of a chance to study you.

The rest of the walkout was silent until you reached the last checkpoint where you could collect your guns before leaving. While the guard was giving you back your items, Aaron stopped before collecting his, “I need to go talk to the warden.” Even feeling as weird as you did, you knew Aaron shouldn’t need to talk to the warden. It didn’t take long for you to figure out Aaron was trying to protect you from further dealings with Ben Monte. Aaron was about to order the warden to ignore any future requests from Ben Monte to speak with you. So you look over and question him, “Why?” Instead of answering, Aaron tries to hand you the car keys. You don’t take them. You narrow your eyes at Aaron, but he doesn’t say anything. So you begrudgingly take the keys. When Aaron walks down the hallway, you wait for a minute before following him. You stay outside the warden’s office door. It could be considered eavesdropping, but it pertains to you and your job, so you didn’t see it as a bad thing.

You could hear the conversation through the walls. Hotch spoke first, “Starting today, you will be restricting Ben Monte’s media access. No more crime articles. Certainly, no information about the BAU. He said he has pictures of Agent [Y/L/N]. Find them. Make sure he is never able to get ahold of anything like that ever again.” You were glad about that part. Knowing Ben had pictures of you made your skin crawl. The warden responds, taken aback, “I… I’ll get that taken care of right away. Were you able to get any useful information out of him?” The pain in your side ramps up, causing you to wince. Hotch responds, “Maybe. We will have to look into it.” There is a short pause, “I will no longer let the BAU answer any requests to speak with Ben Monte. His obsession with my agent has been out of hand for long enough. Ben sees it as a reward of some kind. Strauss will be informed of the situation. Don’t even think about trying to go over my head again.” The warden stumbles over an apology of some kind before they can say anything else Hotch leaves. Hotch sees you and sighs, “You were supposed to go to the car.” You scoff and roll your eyes, “It involved my career, so I was going to listen in. Also, you know I’m a stubborn ass and have issues doing what I’m told.” This was able to pull the slightest smile out of Aaron. It doesn’t last long as he quickly spotted both your hand holding your side and the slight wince still on your face. The worried look falls back onto Aarons’s face.

Despite your surroundings, Aaron gently grabs the back of your neck. He leans down and pulls you closer to him, planting a kiss on your forehead. Surprisingly he holds you there for a second. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax a little bit. Some of the previous emotional numbness starts to leave you. Your body lets you become more emotionally vulnerable since you felt safe with Aaron. Feeling yourself go into the early stages of crying, you gently pull away. Aaron lets you go. Blinking rapidly, you were able to stop yourself from crying for the moment. The grimace that covered Aaron’s face was a giveaway that he saw the emotions on your face, not that you were doing particularly well at hiding them. Aaron gives you a gentle nudge so you can both finally leave this horrible place. You head out to the car while Aaron gets his firearms back from the guards.

Your subconscious mind seemed to know that prisons were a work area, so you had to control your emotions, but outside was a whole other story. As soon as you step outside the threshold, a new wave of emotions hit you. Your subconscious completely shuts down the emotional barrier that was letting you stay professional. The first feeling that hit you was nausea. You quickly get away from the prison before moving around the corner of a building so you could have a sliver of privacy. You were able to keep the nausea at bay. That was until you remembered the fact that you now had a brand linking you to Ben Monte. That’s when you lost it. You could handle a lot of the job. You had handled so much, but this made you feel violated. You got sick right then, bracing yourself on the wall. It took a few minutes for your body to stop. When your body ceases shaking, you stand there for a moment to regain your baring and catch your breath. Looking yourself over, you were lucky enough not to have gotten anything on you. You spit a few times to try to get the taste out of your mouth. You wanted out of here. You wanted to shower for more reasons than one. You turned the corner and saw Aaron automatically watching you as he stood by the car. You were catching the tail end of a conversation Aaron was having on the phone.

Aaron’s eyes followed you, “It was worse than I anticipated.” There was a pause, and you walked around to one of the car's back doors, opening it. Crossing your fingers that you had your go-bag in the vehicle. Aaron let out a sigh, “If you guys have the case handled, I don’t think I’ll be bringing them into work today. They need some time off.” You peaked up and glared at Aaron. He was still monitoring you through the car windows. You roll your eyes and finally find your bag, pulling it to you to dig through it. Aaron gives a slight nod as he responds, “Of course, I’ll stay with them to make sure they are alright.” You find what you were searching for, your bag of toiletries. You pull out your travel toothbrush and toothpaste and start brushing the awful acidy taste out of your mouth. Aaron keeps talking on the phone for a moment. You finish up by using your travel-sized bottle of mouthwash to rinse out your mouth. Spitting it out when you’re finished. You get into the passenger seat. Aaron was still on the phone and kept watching you. You glared at him as he did, but Aaron was utterly unfazed by it. When he finished talking, he got right into the car.

You immediately argued with him, “Aaron, I am not going to sit at my house while you and the team go and do work.” You sigh, “I will go stir crazy.” Aaron looked very unamused, “You need to take some time off. At least a day. I would prefer you to take more off.” You glare at him, “I am fine to go back to work. It wasn’t that bad. I don’t need any time off.” You were already more agitated than usual, and you knew it. But sitting at home by yourself with only your thoughts sounded like pure torture. Aaron stares you down, the stern face he normally wears at work showing, “You are taking today off.” You grumble, “Is that an order?” Hotch nods, “Yes.” He answers in a very stern tone, not leaving a whole lot of room for argument. You knew you were being entirely unreasonable, but that didn’t stop you, “As my boss or as my boyfriend?” Hotch closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Both.” Aaron sighs before looking at you with soft eyes, “Please.” You had more fight in you, but seeing Aaron’s face made you readily concede. You nod and huff, “Fine.” Moving in your seat and looking out the window. Silence filled the air as Aaron turned on the car and started driving.

Aaron didn’t let it stay silent for too long. Knowing you well enough that you would retreat into your head if it was quiet for too long. So Aaron was the first to speak up, “You know, I never said I was taking you to your place.” You had zoned out. His voice had pulled you back into reality. Not catching his whole sentence, you look over at Aaron and ask, “What?” Aaron looks at you, the ghost of a smile on his face, “I didn’t plan on taking you back at your apartment.” You make a confused face, which turns to annoyance. You immediately get belligerent again, “Ohh, yes, because sitting alone at your apartment would be so much better than sitting alone at my apartment.” Aaron glared at you, his annoyance starting to show again. You wish you could have said this was the first time you two talked to each other like this. It was admittedly one of the reasons you both got along so well. A pair of hard-headed assholes who could yell at each other without too many hard feelings. You glared right back at Aaron, “I appreciate the thought, I suppose, but I might as well just be at my place if I’m going to be all alone anyway.” Aaron’s glare intensifies, “Like I would leave you to your own devices even if I wanted to right now.” You narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out what he means, “Isn't that what you were just saying?” Aaron’s voice became more stern, even raising his voice, “Would you just listen to me?” You let out a defiant huff but stay quiet. Aaron keeps the stern tone but lowers the volume, “You will be coming to stay at my apartment, AND I’ll be there with you.” Now you were a bit surprised, “You would ditch work just to babysit me?” Aaron’s face softens, “I wouldn’t call it babysitting. Offering emotional support, maybe?” You frown, “You’re not worried about someone on the team connecting the dots?” Aaron shrugs, “Actually Rossi brought up the idea first when I told him about the situation.” You whine and sigh, “How much did you tell Rossi?” Aaron glances over at you, “Enough.” You let out another whine and sink into your seat. Aaron watches you for a moment, “The team is worried about you. They care about you.” Being immature became one of your defaults when you were emotionally drained. So you made a fake disgusted noise, “Gross, feelings.” Aaron lets out a slight chuckle, “I care about you too.” You let a small smile slide onto your face, “That’s less gross.” Aaron adjusts his hands so he can drive with one hand on the steering wheel while his other hand reached over to you.

You took Aaron’s hand in yours. He gave it a comforting squeeze before getting serious again, “I’m going to have to write a report about what happened.” You groan, “Break the rules just this once? Pretend it never happened?” You knew Aaron would never, but you wanted to playfully give it a shot at least. Aaron shakes his head, “Unfortunately not. Especially since I am going to have to convince Strauss never to send us to see Ben Monte again.” At the mention of his name, you tense up. It wasn’t hard for Aaron to notice, your hand had tightened around his. Aaron gives you a worried look, “We should talk about what happened.” You groan, not wanting to but also knowing you need to. You give in, wanting to get this over with, “Will I be telling this to my boyfriend or my boss?” Aaron looks down at you for a moment, “Your boyfriend.” Aaron gives your hand another squeeze, “I’ll keep anything you tell me out of the report.” Aaron lets out a sigh before adding, “Unless it's something that could compromise your safety or others while you’re on the job.” You nod. Understanding that Aaron couldn’t bend the rules that much just for you and you were completely fine with that. You look out the window, “I know I shouldn’t be this affected by him, he only shot me. I feel like I have dealt with a lot worse. I feel stupid for letting him affect me this much.” Aaron starts running his thumb over the back of your hand, “You’re not stupid. He is overly obsessed with you. That can be very alarming.” Aaron lets out a long sigh, causing you to look over at him. Aaron had a sad look on his face, “Even before Foyet broke into my apartment and…” Aaron let it trail off, letting out another sigh. He skipped over whatever he was about to say to continue with the rest of it, “I was anticipating him making a move at any time. Knowing that someone like that is so fixated on you is not easy to handle mentally.” Aaron glances down at you, your eyes meeting for a moment, “I didn’t admit it to anyone even myself at the time, but it sure as hell affected me. I was only able to keep so much of it under control.” This time you give Aaron’s hand a squeeze returning the gesture he gave you earlier. Emotions were neither you nor Aaron’s strong suits, but you did find it much easier to be open around him. You’d like to think he felt the same way about talking to you as well.

Talking about Ben Monte made your old wound hurt. You just brushed it off as a subconscious correlation. Aaron seemed more worried about it, “You should get it checked out by a doctor.” You make a face, “It’s fine. I know it's just a mental reaction.” Aaron shook his head, “I think it's much more than a subconscious reaction, it had been hurting you since before we got to the prison.” You wave your hand at Aaron, ignoring him. You change the subject, “What I need is a shower and a change of clothes.” Aaron lets out a slightly annoyed sigh but lets you avoid the matter, “We will be home shortly.” You give Aarons hand another squeeze, “Good.” You let it stay quiet for a minute, “When you pick Jack up from school, let's do something fun.” Aaron glances over at you, “What are you thinking?” You shrug, “Anything to forget about today…” You think for a minute, “What about dessert for dinner and a lazy movie night?” Aaron narrows his eyes at you, “Dessert as the main meal?” You could tell he was going to shoot it down, so you decided to take the low road. You pout, “Please? It's been a really tough day. And imagine how cute Jack’s face will be when we tell him.” Aaron glares at you, “Really?” You stick your bottom lip out to pout more. Aaron shakes his head, a smirk on his face, “Fine. But…” You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. Aaron adds, “Only if make an appointment with your doctor.” You grumble but accept it, “That seems about fair.” You smile at Aaron before falling into ideal chit-chat for the rest of the drive.

The car had to be dropped back off at the Bureau, but Aaron was kind enough to drop you off at his apartment first so you could shower. The time you spent alone was only twenty minutes, but it was enough time for the dark thoughts you had been suppressing to come back to the surface. It didn’t help that your scar practically taunted you the whole time you were showering. The healed skin was a mirror of what Ben had done to himself, creating a twisted connection with you. Sure, you had lied to Ben and taken away his satisfaction of being connected to you, but you knew the truth. You took a long shower, trying to wash away the sickening feeling that lingered over you. It only helped a little but not enough to lift the weight you felt in your chest. You got out of the shower and lazily dried off. You were more than ready to get dressed. Then you caught a glimpse of your scar in the mirror. It completely stopped you. You got stuck staring at your old injury, running your fingers over it as you tried to figure out what to do. You didn’t want it to look the same. You wanted to change it.

You got more absorbed into that train of thought then you would care to admit because you didn’t hear Aaron get back home or even hear him open the bathroom door. Aaron’s voice pulled you out of your own head, “Please don’t.” You startle for a moment before glaring over at him, “Don’t what?” You wrap your towel around yourself again and push past him. Aaron gives you a bit of space even as he keeps an eye on you, “I know what you’re thinking.” You were still on edge, so you just scoffed and started getting dressed. Aaron continues, “I can’t stop you. At least don’t do it yourself.” You huff and tug on your pajama pants, “Don’t do what myself? I wasn’t thinking about anything.” Aaron sighs and crosses his arms, “You were thinking about ‘correcting’ the look of the scar yourself.” He was dead on which shouldn’t have surprised you, but it still stopped you for a second. You shook your head before starting to pull your shirt over your head. In an attempt to ignore the fact he was right, you stayed quiet and turned away. It doesn’t take long for Aaron to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around you. He pulls you into him, “I don’t want you to cause any more damage to yourself.” You sigh and lean back into him. Closing your eyes tight to hold in your emotions as you nod. Aaron kisses the top of your head, “Let’s go relax and forget about this for the moment.” You offer another nod. Aaron gently lets go of you, and you wipe away wherever tears were forming in your eyes. Aaron starts changing, and you take this opportunity to pour both of you a drink. By the time you got back out to the living room, Aaron was already sitting on the couch, watching something on tv. You set his drink down for him. Then you proceed to drape yourself over him pathetically. Straddling his lap as you sat down, leaning into his chest. Aaron just wrapped his arms around you and let you stay there as you lazily sipped at your drink. You stayed like that for a few hours until it was time for Jack to get off school. You kissed him before peeling yourself off of Aaron. Flopping back onto the couch so Aaron could grab his son. You lazily watched tv finally feeling more relaxed after spending some time with Aaron. When you heard the front door unlocking, you immediately perked up.

As soon as Jack ran into the house and saw you, all the events of the day seemed like a distant memory. Jack tackled you with a hug, excited that you were here. You found yourself smiling again as you and Aaron talked with the little boy about how his day was and what he learned. You broke the surprise to Jack about dessert for dinner. Jack was practically bouncing with excitement at the news. After dishing out healthy bowls of ice cream for all three of you, it was time to sit on the couch. It was such a lovely time as the three of you enjoyed each other’s company. Typically Jack always curled up with his father when he got tired, but as the night wound down this time, Jack came over to you. Jack climbed onto you and cuddled up with you. You looked down at him and held him close, rubbing his back as he started to drift off. For the first time today, you felt yourself getting emotional for a good reason. You slowly moved, so you were resting against Aaron. Aaron wrapped an arm protectively over the two of you, and you felt an overwhelming feeling of comfort and safety. The three of you sat like this for a few more hours until it was officially late enough to go to bed. You gently woke up Jack and helped him get ready for bed. Once Aaron had tucked Jack into bed, both you and Aaron went to lay down yourselves. You laid down, and Aaron wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close to him again. Feeling safe and secure, you were able to fall asleep with much more ease then you thought.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators – Part 1–Part 2–Part 3–Part 4*–Part 5–Part 6

@dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @winterparkers

@thosesteelblueeyesaremysafeplace

#Criminal Minds #aaron hotchner x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #hotch x reader #reader insert #series #aaron hotchner #fanfiction #fanfic #co-conspirators

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ssa-jennifer-prentiss · 4 years ago

Text

Here In Your Arms

hi! here’s some soft jemily for your day! i hope you like it. please let me know your thoughts!

pairing: jj/emily

words:1481

tw: brief mentions of blood, guns

JJ sat tucked into her girlfriend’s side on their plane seat. Emily fell asleep, her head resting on JJ’s, not long after they took off. They had a long flight home from their case in California, which JJ was very thankful for because that meant she was able to relax and enjoy just being with Emily.

JJ reached for Emily’s hand that was resting on her knee. She intertwined their fingers and sat their hands in her lap. She let out a content sigh, snuggling further into Emily’s side. JJ loved just being close to Emily. Ever since they met Emily had a way of making her feel safe, no matter the circumstance.

The two of them had always been close. Over the years they have seen each other at their best and their worst. They’ve stayed up swapping stories and secrets they wouldn’t dare share with anyone else. They held each other after one woke up from an intense nightmare. They’ve wiped the tears off each other's cheeks and helped bandage up battle scars. They’ve celebrated birthdays and holidays. Each moment, good or bad, for as long as JJ could remember was spent with Emily by her side.

Even before they worked up the courage to admit their feelings for one another, they often found comfort in each other’s arms. Being close was always a reminder that they were both alive and safe.

Now, years later, JJ still felt as safe and loved in Emily’s arms as she did day one. She sat, thinking about the moments with Emily that eventually led to this one.

Emily and JJ became friends very quickly. They were the only two female field agents, which led to them spending extra time together because they often had to share a room. Words were how they communicated their love and support. It was how they comforted each other when things got rough. Eventually, physical touch became their primary form of comfort.

It began with the Tobias Hankel case. JJ was a mess, and rightfully so. She tried to hold it together for the team, but Emily could see right through her mask. Even after they rescued Spencer, JJ wasn’t acting like herself. Emily had been watching her carefully ever since they found her in the barn. She assumed there would be a slight change in JJ’s demeanor after finding Spencer, but there wasn’t. It was late the night they rescued Reid, so Hotch had them stay one more night. Emily hoped this would allow her time to make sure JJ was okay.

JJ and Emily were paired together, as they usually were. Emily was overly worried about her friend. Spencer was back, he was safe. Still, JJ didn’t seem any better, which caused Emily’s worry to increase even more. She noticed JJ, sitting on the edge of her bed, struggling with the bandage wrapped around her forearm. Emily made her way over to her, kneeling down and looking JJ in the eye.

“Here,” Emily said, reaching for the bandage on JJ’s arm. “Let me help you.” JJ nodded slowly, not having the energy to protest. Emily slowly unwrapped the bandage, being careful not to put any extra pressure on the wound. She lightly applied the antibacterial cream over her forearm. JJ winced slightly, causing Emily to apologize quickly. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s not you, Em. It’s just sore,” she gave Emily a reassuring smile. Emily finished gently wrapping her arm back up. She pulled herself up on the bed, settling next to JJ, reaching out and placing a hand on hers.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Jayje?”

“I’m fine, Emily, really,” she looked up at Emily trying to convince her, but Emily could see the tears building in her eyes.

“Jen…,” she said softly, running her fingers along JJ’s arm soothingly. “Talk to me.”

JJ shook her head while looking down at her hands. A few tears slipped out as she whispered, “It’s all my fault. We almost lost him and it’s all because of me.” Her breathing began to quicken as she started to cry harder. Emily quickly gathered the shaking blonde in her arms, holding her tightly.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she started to run her fingers through the younger girl’s hair. “None of this is your fault, honey. Spencer’s okay, you’re okay.” Emily continued whispering comforting words to her as she reached behind them to pull back the covers of the bed. Slowly, she moved them so they could lay down and pulled the blankets over them. JJ was still clinging to her, sobs continuing to shake her small frame. Eventually, she felt JJ’s breaths begin to even as the exhaustion of the past few days won, and she drifted off to sleep in Emily’s arms.

This would be the first of many nights where they fell asleep cuddled closely together, seeking the comfort they found when they were together. Way too often, one would wake to the sound of soft whimpers coming from the others bed. Each time they made their way across the room, climbing in beside the other to pull them from the terrors of their mind.

In front of the team they always tried to stay professional, only allowing a few lingering touches here and there. But when they were behind closed doors, they enjoyed spending time being physically close together. Cuddled together watching cheesy movies offered a perfect distraction from the horrible scenes they saw at work each day.

Then there came a case that hit the team hard. Emily was the first to offer touch as a form of comfort in front of the team. She didn’t care who saw, she just wanted to be there for JJ.

Everything changed when Penelope got shot. Emily was upset and anxious, but she knew her emotions didn’t quite add up to how JJ could have felt at that time. She also knew there were no words that could make JJ feel better, all she could do was support her.

She wanted to hold her hand, but was unsure if she would be pushing too far. After a moment of contemplation, she sat beside JJ and placed her hand on her wrist. Squeezing slightly, she let her hand hover slightly above JJ’s so she could decide if she wanted to hold Emily’s hand or not. Emily was relieved when JJ took and gently squeezed her hand.

Hand holding quickly became something they did often, even in front of the team. When a case seemed to be too much for one of them, they could count on the other to reach out and take their hand, fingers sliding together easily. Sometimes it was a way to ground themselves when their minds took them back through the hell they’ve been through. A thumb tracing circles on their hand keeping them in the present.

Since they got together, JJ likes to hold Emily’s hand whenever she has the chance, just because she can. Emily doesn’t like to admit it, but she absolutely melts for JJ. She would do anything to keep a smile on the face of her blue eyed beauty.

They eventually began to cuddle together after tough cases on the flight home. It didn’t matter what anyone thought because they were comfortable and safe there together miles in the air.

This started after a case ending with the unsub being shot right in front of JJ. She ended up covered in his blood, watching him drop to the ground inches in front of her. On the jet, Emily brought her a cup of coffee before taking the seat next to her and opening her book. JJ still hadn’t fully processed what happened in front of her that afternoon, but she knew she wasn’t feeling entirely okay.

She almost stopped herself from inching closer to Emily, but decided that comfort was what she needed. She shifted so her side was pressed against Emily’s. Emily lifted her arm to wrap around JJ, allowing room so the blonde could rest her head against her chest. She began to read her book aloud softly, trying to offer JJ a distraction. Cuddles on the jet became a commonality after that.

JJ was pulled from her thoughts when she felt Emily lift her, using the back of her hand to stifle a yawn.

“Hey,” the brunette smiled down at her. “Did you get any sleep?”

“No,” JJ returned to smile. “I’ve just been sitting here thinking, enjoying your presence.”

“Thinking about anything in particular?”

“Just us, how far we’ve come,” she pressed a kiss to the tip of Emily’s nose. “How much I love you,” she leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips. A sleepy smile spread on Emily’s face.

“I love you, angel,” She pulled JJ back into her side. “More than you’ll ever know.”

thanks for reading! let me know what you think!

#i love their love #jemily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #criminal minds #jj x emily

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