#bau reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelwitchergilmore · 8 months ago

Text

First Name Basis

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> You and Hotch have never been on First Name Basis, but as the years go on, thing begin to change.

Disclaimer: Mentions and descriptions of blood, bombs, life being in danger, slight spoilers for S4-Ep3 (Minimal Loss - Reader takes Emily's place) (But that isn't the whole fic). BAU found-family fluff, romantic fluff, soft fluff, happy ending. Not Proof Read.

You were on a first name basis with everyone. Everyone save from Hotch.

Of course, he would introduce you with your first name when it came to meeting police departments or official personnel but to anyone else, specifically yourself, he always used your last name.

And you did the same with him. Like the rest of them.

It was always “Sir,” or “Hotch,”.

Never Aaron.

However, this all changed after a case in Colorado.

Yourself and Reid had gone undercover as Child Protection Agents. And it wasn’t long until things went wrong. An unknown police raid meant everyone was taken underground. And a media segment revealed that someone was FBI.

Between yourself and Spencer, you took the rapt. You weren’t willing to watch him get shot and die.

On the other side of the planted bug, the team could hear everything.

And it was killing Hotch.

And Rossi could see it.

They all could.

His own mind was fighting against listening because he had to, and not because you were being beaten.

A small grunt left you as you were thrown into something, and then a crash came. A mirror most likely. More grunts and one scream before…nothing.

It was the first time in a long time his emotions had started pushing to the surface.

Every day, he had to become an emotionless yet empathetic profiler. But at that moment…he didn’t know what he was. He was a profiler, a friend, a…he didn’t know what he was.

“Y/n…”

His voice was barely audible. A hair above a whisper.

But Rossi saw it.

Even if Aaron didn’t know it yet, Rossi knew.

Then you spoke.

“I can take it.”

There were more sounds of fighting before another.

“I can take it.”

“She’s antagonising him!” Derek shouted.

“No, she’s not.”

“She’s talking to us.” Hotch told them both. “She’s telling us not to come in.”

And he didn’t.

It was killing him not to do so, but he didn’t.

But the moment he got a chance, writing the time of “3 am” on the takeaway box, he wouldn’t be turning back.

When he finally saw you, a wave of relief washed over him. And the same happened for you, too.

Once you both caught clear sight of one another, you ran towards him.

He could see the dried blood on your face, partly washed away. And your eye was bruised. And your arms were cut up, most likely from the mirror that had broken.

But you were alive.

Finally reaching him, you hugged him. And he hugged you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I will be. Where’s Morgan and Reid?”

“They’re inside-”

The place blew up.

Hotch covered you a little, both of you feeling the aftershock of the bomb. The hand you kept on his shoulder pulled him down a little with you. But after you made sure the other was alive, you both turned back to the building. And you started walking closer to it.

“Morgan! Reid!”

They stood up.

“Oh, thank god.”

Making your way up the stairs, you met a coughing Morgan and Reid before Reid finally stood tall and you hugged him.

After that case, everything seemingly went back to normal.

Until another case came, only a few months later.

A bomb had been planted in a building. And, when tracking the Unsub into another one, yourself and Hotch had found yourselves stuck.

The Unsub held a trigger, and by the looks of it, he was wearing one.

But you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

Something wasn’t right.

“So, what happens next? You blow yourself up? What happened to “getting all the glory”? That’s what you said, isn’t it? In your message. It was all about the glory.”

Yourself and Hotch took another step forward, but then he unzipped his jacket.

“Another step and I take my finger off the trigger.” He warned.

Neither of you moved, but your gaze did switch.

The bomb the Unsub was wearing wasn’t one you recognised. It wasn’t his type.

By the time SWAT and Bomb Disposal met you at the top of the building, it wasn’t long before he just…gave up.

“He took hostages from the last site.”

“But we found them all.”

Hotch nodded in agreement. “I still want to do a sweep just in case.”

“I’ll come with you.”

By the time you both reached the fourth floor, you still couldn’t shake the feeling.

And just as Hotch reached a small storage unit, it clicked.

“It was a fake.”

“What?”

“The bomb, around his chest. It’s a fake.”

“Why fake a bomb and then give yourself up?”

Then it clicked with the both of you.

“How many agents are in this building?”

“Enough to keep this case in the news for the next fifty years.”

“We need to clear the building now.”

By the time you both reached the floor, calling for every agent to clear the building, someone came and found Hotch.

“We found his briefcase. You’re gonna want to see this.”

Walking over, both yourself and Aaron peered inside. There were plans, memos, and enough cash to give him a whole new life in any country he could possibly want.

“Get all of this processed as soon as you can.”

And Hotch walked away.

But you stayed.

However, the longer you stayed, the bigger that gnawing feeling in your stomach grew again.

And once you finally lifted a pile of cash, you saw it.

A watch with a timer.

“Morgan! Clear the area, now!”

People started running but when you did so, Hotch was still in his place.

“Aaron!”

Grabbing his arm on your way past, you both started running. And whether it was luck, or fate or…whatever it was. Yourself and Aaron managed to clear the site fast enough so as to not die from the explosion.

You both were propelled forward, and landed, rolling onto the ground. And for a few moments, were stunned from the blast.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, managing to catch your breath. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“I think so.”

Once you were able to open your eyes, you sat back on your heels and took a look at Hotch. He was sitting in a similar position to you, except he was bleeding.

You pushed yourself closer to him, “Jesus, Hotch. You’re bleeding.”

Once you touched it, he seemed to feel it and tried to move his head away from your hand, but you pulled him back.

“Don’t move.”

Through your wire, you called for a medic.

“Y/l/n, I’m fine.”

“Hotch, you’re bleeding. You’re not fine.”

“So are you.”

You shook your head and turned away for a moment, pulling out your pocket knife and cutting the torn piece of your t-shirt.

“Wait.”

Hotch took the cloth from your hands before tearing it into two and handing you a piece back, but keeping one for himself.

Just as you pressed the cloth to his head, he did the same for your cut. There wasn’t much blood coming from your head, so once he knew that had slowed at least, he dabbed at the wound on your arm before tying the piece tight around your arm.

Once the medics finally reached you both, you told them what injuries Hotch had and might have.

“Check her over, too. She’s got a cut on her head. She could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

The medic had helped you up from the floor and when they did so, you felt a little dizzy.

Hotch didn’t even have to say anything.

“Shut up.”

Thankfully, the next time either of you talked on a first name basis was when on a short vacation.

Considering the fact that no-one of the team was due to go on holiday or drive out of state for at least three more days, Penelope Garcia took it upon herself to plan a small getaway for the entire team that meant even if they got called back (as you all usually would), you would have, at least, a break away.

So, on a random Friday morning, you all drove to the beach.

And it was fun, to say the least.

By the time you arrived, you parked next to Will’s car. Both himself and JJ were getting Henry ready along with the beach bags and diaper bags. From what you could tell, everyone else was already on the beach.

“Need some help?”

JJ nodded. “That would be great.”

“Hi, Henry. Is this his first trip to the beach?”

JJ smiled and nodded. “It is.”

“We did try and take him a few weeks ago but then he got a fever.” Will told you.

“Well, it’ll all be worth it.”

Will handed you a couple of the bags whilst he carried the rest and JJ carried Henry, along with her beach bag, onto the beach.

The minute you spotted Morgan flirting with a group of women a few feet from the water, you spotted Jack playing in the sand with Emily and Penelope. Spencer was trying to avoid the sun and Hotch was finishing setting up the area with a couple of windbreakers and chairs, with Rossi.

And once you, JJ and Will arrived; the two dads continued setting up with the addition of sun parasols.

It wasn’t long before Jack had come running up to get his dad and yourself to join him. JJ handed you Henry for a moment whilst she dug through the diaper bag to find the fruit pouches she had brought with her.

From behind you, Aaron set up another parasol giving both yourself and Henry shade.

“I’ve put Henry’s fruit pouches in the cooler. Ready to go?”

Lifting her son from your arms, JJ carried Henry down to the water whilst Will grabbed his camera. And yourself and Aaron joined Jack, Emily and Penelope.

By the end of the day, you had all swam in the water, built sandcastles, sunbathed, read and even been chased by Morgan when he realised yourself. Reid and Hotch had been hustling him in a game of football.

And at some point after all of that, you must have fallen asleep because you woke up to someone lightly shaking your shoulder.

“Y/n, hey, y/n…”

As you slowly came around, you realised it was Hotch.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.”

It was odd.

His voice was soft. It was rare, if slightly unbelievable, that Hotch showed this side of him. The one he had for Jack. The one he had for those he held close to his heart.

“The others went for some food, they should be back soon. Garcia said she knew your order. Pizza with fries and a side of pickles.”

“That’s my girl.” You said with a sleepy smile.

“Pickles? With Pizza? Really?”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.”

Then he laughed. “Okay, I won’t.”

You smiled at his laughter. And then you thought. In all the years you knew him, you couldn’t think of a time where you had heard him laugh. Sure, you’d seen him smile a little over the years. But before The Beach…you had never heard him laugh.

And it was like music to your ears.

Unknown, at first, but then very quickly became your favourite song.

By the time the others got back, Jack was excited you were awake and ran over to you, jumping towards you and you fell back with him in your arms.

Aaron laughed again, “Jack, let Y/n breathe.”

“Penelope got you pickles.”

“Extra pickles.” She said as she handed you the pizza box and takeaway tub with fries and pickles.

“Have I ever told you you’re a saint?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well you are a Saint, Penelope Garcia.”

“She has to be, for buying you pickles with pizza.” Morgan added.

The rest of the evening passed with stories, smiles and even more laughter.

It was also after that day you noticed when Hotch called you by your name. It hadn’t clicked with you right away, when he woke you up. But when you fell asleep in the round table room after more than 30 hours of work, you noticed it more.

Usually, whenever you fell asleep when case hours ran over, you would be jolted awake by someone (typically Hotch) calling your last name.

But since The Beach, you were woken up with a soft touch to your arm, shaking you lightly, before he said your first name.

“Go home, get some rest.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

You grumbled, sitting up. “By the time I get home, I’ll be on my way back.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine. But you can use the sofa in my office. It’s better than your desk.”

“Thanks, Hotch.”

However, a few months later, something else changed.

A case had been brought into the roundtable room, and everyone was there. Except for you.

“Not like Y/l/n to be late.” Rossi said, pulling out his chair.

“Try her again.” Hotch told Garcia.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Maybe she’s just catching up on sleep.” JJ offered.

“Why would she be catching up on sleep? We all landed back here two nights ago.”

“Is she dating?” Morgan asked.

Hotch looked up.

“No, but her neighbours are.” JJ told them.

“Ooh, that’s gotta be tough.” Prentiss said. “Back in college, I had a roommate the same. Many sleepless nights. That was when I bought my first pair of noise cancelling headphones.”

Garcia called you three more times.

“We’ll continue with the case,” Hotch told everyone. “We can catch her up when she wakes up.”

Except two hours later, you still hadn’t picked up.

And then Hotch got a phone call.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going to find Y/n,” Hotch told Rossi as he passed him.

“Do you know where she is?”

“A good idea.”

“I’ll come with you.”

After thirty minutes, and eventually passing the turn for your apartment complex, Rossi spoke up.

“Her apartment-”

“I know, but she won’t be there.”

“Then where is she?”

“She has a second home.”

Rossi didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but notice that Aaron knew the way, without having to put anything into the GPS.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Hotch sighed a little. Part of him didn’t want to, because he didn’t know if you would want anyone to know. But he’d gone this long without telling Rossi.

“There was a crash this morning. Don’t worry, she wasn’t hurt. But one of her friends was. They’re okay, too. They’re being kept in the hospital for a few days but were more worried about Y/n’s reaction.”

“How did she react?”

“She didn’t.”

“Well, that’s not good.”

Pulling up outside of your home, Aaron stepped out and rushed towards the door, finding the spare key and letting himself in. The doorbell camera would have let you know they were there.

And then he called your name.

Rossi took in the structure and the decoration of your home. He didn’t know you owned a property outside of your apartment, but by the looks of it, you spent more time outside of work here than you did at your apartment.

There were photos of yourself with your friends, as well as the team. It was tidy, and the place smelt of blueberries and cinnamon.

Turning around the bottom of the stairs, Aaron took them two at a time before reaching the top and when he did, Rossi could see him standing on the landing, as well as stall when you called back.

“Aaron?”

Coming from out of your room, you walked down the hall and Rossi watched as Aaron’s demeanour changed. In the car, he had been tense. In fact, he had been tense since you hadn’t walked into the office.

But standing at the top of the stairs, hearing your voice as well as seeing you, he relaxed.

And his voice became softer.

“Hey,”

You walked towards him and he hugged you instantly.

“How did you find me?”

“The hospital called. The nurse said Abby was worried about you. Are you okay?”

Aaron moved back a little to examine your face. You had been crying. Your eyes were a little puffy and your cheeks were tear-stained.

With his thumb, he wiped away the streaks and you melted into his touch for a second.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

You nodded, “I just…it scared me, you know?”

Aaron nodded. “What do you need?”

“A hug?”

A light smile graced his lips for a moment. “I can do that.”

And he embraced you, tightly. Securely.

Rossi smiled for a moment before quietly walking away to snoop through your house. And by the time you both walked downstairs, you hand in Aaron’s, Rossi was in the kitchen.

“Next time Penelope tries to arrange a dinner party, we’re holding it here.”

“So long as you cook.”

“But I don’t see any-”

You and Aaron gave each other a knowing look before you moved and opened up two cabinet doors. It contained three different spice racks, a selection of dry herbs and all standard ingredients to make any one of Rossi’s signature sauces.

He’d given you enough recipes over the years (not that you didn’t have to work to get them – there had been so many coffee runs) that you made sure you always had the main ingredients needed, and you could always pick up fresh ones on your way home.

“You’re not the best snooper.”

“I’m a profiler. Not a detective.”

“You’re still an FBI Agent.” Aaron added, backing you up.

“So, sue me.”

After that case, nothing else changed.

Both yourself and Aaron remained on a first name basis. Especially considering that two years later, you and Aaron started to share the same last name.

939 notes · View notes

waywardxrhea · 11 months ago

Text

Heart's Desire - Spencer Reid

part 2 | part 3

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 9.58k

When working a serial killer case in Tennessee, you become the bait for a violent unsub whose victims all match your description. When going after the man you collapse and are rushed to the hospital for medical treatment.

a/n: so yes, this is a Reader one shot, but it is super niche so...whoops? this honestly was just a super self-indulgent fic for me to write because i can't say i have ever seen the heart condition i had presented in the media and i really wanted to explore how Spencer may interact with it, so here we are! this is my first time writing for the criminal minds fandom, so shout out to my bestie who helped me out with coming up with case details and smaller plot points that have been incorporated into this little one shot!

content: fluff (oh how i adore the fluff in this one!), multilingual Reader, secret relationship, implied smut (if you squint lol), insecure Reader, Reader fits the victimology, graphic description of canon level violence, Reader is bait for the unsub, protective Spencer, mentions of jealous and possessive Spencer, language, medical emergencies, small medical inaccuracies (no AED on the scene - i had to do it for the drama don't judge), crying Spencer.

(not my gif), CM dividers by @firefly-graphics , EKG dividers by me

“Good morning, beautiful,” you heard Spencer’s sleep ridden voice mumble from behind you as you began to stir awake with the sun that was filtering in through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom. The two of you had just gotten back from a case the day before and you were utterly exhausted. All you wanted to do was sleep in, and although he had bought blackout curtains for this exact reason, the sun still somehow managed to slip through, which you cursed the manufacturer for every time…

You flipped around in his arms to face him and sent a sleepy smile at him before mumbling, “Bonjour mon amour.”

“Oh, so it’s a French morning?” Spencer asked with a quiet chuckle as he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

“I was debating between that and Italian, but… French usually gets us to where I would love to spend this free day with you,” you replied with a smirk before leaning up to kiss him.

After a few slow and loving kisses, Spencer pulled away for a brief moment to rest his forehead on yours and say, “You know, since we just got back from a case out of state that took so long to solve, the odds of the team getting called back out are significantly lower than if-”

And then your phones started ringing.

“What were you saying about the odds being low?” you muttered with a sigh as you turned back over in the bed and grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You heard the automated voice on the other side tell you that there was a case the BAU was requested to work and that your presence was requested as soon as possible.

As you sighed and closed your eyes briefly while you tried to sink back into the pillow, Spencer noted, “Well I did say the odds were low, not zero…” You couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto your lips at the comment as you laughed and lightly hit him in the bare chest with a throw pillow.

“‘Never tell me the odds,’” you told him as you reluctantly began getting out of bed, sitting up on the edge and stretching to wake up your tired muscles.

Spencer positioned himself to where his legs were on either side of you and wrapped his arms around your torso before kissing your neck and mumbling, “No matter how many times you quote Han Solo at me, it’s not gonna stop me from telling you the odds of things, you know that right?”

“I know, I know…” you told him with a giggle as you toyed with his hands that were clasped in front of your stomach. “How far apart do we have to leave again so they aren’t suspicious?”

“Well, your apartment is about a thirty minute commute from the office while mine is twenty depending on traffic, so you'll leave ten minutes after me,” he reminded you as you both began to get up and untangle yourselves from each other. “I have an extra go-bag packed for you in the closet as well as a few outfits so you aren’t wearing the same clothes you came home in yesterday.”

“You’re the best, Spence,” you told him quietly as you both made your way into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

As you jumped into the shower to take advantage of your extra ten minutes, you thought about your relationship with Spencer. You two had started dating about a year after you joined the BAU and out of fear of getting in trouble, like two teenagers you hid the relationship from your teammates. Your transfer from Homeland Security was prompted when your interrogation and hostage negotiation tactics landed you on the BAU’s radar, and you very quickly became fast friends with the whole team. So with the guise of being your usual friendly self, it truthfully hadn’t been too hard to hide the relationship from your friends. And while Spencer was hesitant about hiding a relationship from a group of people like the BAU team, your fear of being let go as the “more inferior” member out of the two of you was what convinced him to keep it a secret. It also prompted him to lecture you on your clear inferiority complex, but that was neither here nor there.

“I’ll see you there, drive safe,” Spencer told you before kissing your cheek as you wrapped yourself in your towel to dry off while finishing your routine.

“You too,” you replied, giving him a peck on the lips before he began walking out of the restroom and apartment to head to headquarters.

When you got to HQ, you yawned as you made a beeline for the kitchenette for some much needed caffeine. When you got inside, you cordially told Spencer and Derek, “Good morning you two,” as you poured your coffee, creamer, and sugar into the mug you always had on your desk. It was your parting gift from your Homeland team that was in the shape of the sun and what prompted your nickname from Derek.

He laughed as he watched you and Spencer prepare your coffees, telling you, “You know, Sunshine, I think with how much creamer you put in that, you may have Pretty Boy beat on sugar consumption.”

“Ha ha very funny,” you told him with a playful roll of your eyes as you turned to walk into the bullpen.

As the three of you ambled into the area, Hotch emerged from his office and announced, “Sorry to call you all in so soon after getting back from a case, but this one is something we aren’t taking lightly and needs to be stopped because the unsub is escalating quickly.” So, after a quick briefing on what he knew of the case, Hotch told you all to be prepared for wheels up in thirty.

When the plane landed in Tennessee later that afternoon and you stood up from your perch, you stumbled a bit when you felt your heart give an irregular stutter in your chest. “You okay, kid?” David asked you with concern in his eyes after seeing the brief moment of panic flit across your features.

“Yeah, fine, just feeling a bit off after that flight, I guess,” you replied, taking a deep breath and straightening up which seemed to do the trick as your heart began beating in a regular rhythm once more.

“You know, I wouldn’t say I blame you if you were a bit anxious,” he told you as you both exited the jet and started making your way to the black SUVs awaiting your arrival. “It isn’t every day we get cases as violent as this one, especially when the victims…”

“All look like me?” you supplied quietly when he trailed off at the end of his sentence. It was true that when you began going over the pertinent files on the flight that all of the unsub’s victims shared many of your physical features, and while that did alarm you, you knew that your team would have your back during this case no matter what. You placed a small smile on your lips as you told him, “I’ll rest easier when this guy’s behind bars.”

“That’s the spirit,” he told you with a warm smile as you loaded into the SUV, your bag at your feet and your case file in your lap as you continued to read over what all the unsub had been up to in the last couple of months.

After you all got to the local police precinct and got settled in and assigned tasks, you made your way to their break room for another cup of coffee, only to be followed in by Spencer a few moments later. As you both made your drinks, you casually turned so you were leaning on the counter and watching over the office as Spencer asked, “Are you okay?”

“You know, Dave asked me the same thing, I’m starting to think you guys are more worried about me than I am,” you told him, your lips covered by your cup in case anyone you couldn't see was watching.

“I always worry about you,” Spencer told you softly as he stirred his sugary drink.

“And I, you, but for now we need to work on getting this guy in cuffs, and it won’t happen if either of us get distracted,” you said with a sort of finality in your tone, determined to make sure you conveyed a sense of confidence or else you too may fall victim to worrying about yourself instead of working the case.

As you walked out to the desk where you were allowed to set up, Penelope ran past you, almost toppling you over as she shouted, “Hotch, I found out how he’s luring the victims!”

“How?” your unit chief asked as she made his company. The team had barely been here a couple hours and the locals' work was already being combed through and missing clues were being found.

“Dating apps! On every victim’s phone was a dating app and she had planned a date with a man from there. None of the men’s accounts were the same and none of them had common pictures, but the unsub always used the same lines when chatting the women up!” she told him in a rush as she showed him pages she had printed out while doing her dive into the womens' phones.

Spencer emerged from the break room with his coffee in hand, saying, “Well, based on that knowledge we can assume that dating apps have a significant meaning to him.”

From her place nearby, JJ spoke up, saying, “Every victim had her left ring finger severed off, maybe his wife cheated on him using one?”

As Derek walked into the room with David hot on his heels, he added, “And turns out they also had their ovaries taken out by the unsub.”

“As well as their cervix glued shut with industrial sealant before their genitals were mutilated,” David supplied, his head shaking as he handed Hotch the ME reports.

A scoff huffed out of your chest before you mused, “So he feels slighted by his ex wife and has decided that in order to pacify that anger he does what he wishes he could to her to the victims…”

“Do we know if any of the victims was the ex wife?” Derek asked.

“Nope, all the victims are single women who have been on dating apps for quite some time and none of them have an active or otherwise marriage license under their name,” Penelope replied.

“Good work everyone, let’s get to work finding this guy,” Hotch said. “Find out all you can, I want to give this brief before nightfall.”

“Yes sir,” you all replied before once again splitting off into your assigned tasks.

Right as the sun began to set that evening, Hotch called everyone together and the team began giving the locals the brief on the unsub. Hotch of course began the brief, informing the locals, “The unsub is a caucasian male in his mid thirties to early forties who we believe to have a medical background in surgery and likely just went through a rough divorce."

You were the next to speak, announcing, “We believe he was cheated on by his ex wife, which is what triggered the break and the murders. The victims all share common features which we assume are also shared by the ex wife.” As you said this, you clicked the remote in your hand and on the board behind you popped up the faces of the victims.

With the slightest tremor in his voice, Spencer was the next to piggyback, saying, “The victims have all been found with mutilated genitals as well as their left ring finger cut off. The unsub also took the time to use industrial glue to seal the victim’s cervix shut and to cut out her ovaries.”

Derek was next to speak, adding to Spencer’s statement, “The cause of death in all the victims was prolonged blood loss. This tells us that he's performing these rituals while the victim is still alive.”

“He’s tech savvy, enough so that he is able to create difficult to trace profiles on dating apps on which he seduces victims before murdering them,” Penelope said sadly.

JJ was next, telling the team, “The only evidence that he’s left behind are the bodies in secluded dump locations and as of right now we do not know where the victims are being killed.”

David was the last to speak, rounding out the brief with, “All of this combined leads us to believe that he is a very calculated and dangerous individual who needs to be found before he strikes again.” When he was done, Hotch dismissed everyone to begin their search with this new information.

“Hey, chief?” came a voice from the front of the office a few minutes later. Both the local police chief and Hotch looked up at the young man expectantly before he replied, “There’s been another victim…”

“He’s escalating again…” Hotch mumbled as he ran a hand over his chin. “There was a lot less time between victims. We need to work faster.”

“Yes sir,” everyone replied before attempting to double down on their work.

As they all began working, the gears in your mind began to spin, and when you finally formulated a plan, you approached Hotch and said, “Sir, I think I may have an idea on how to catch him.”

“How?”

“We do a sting. Penelope makes a dating profile for me on one of those apps and we use me as bait,” you told him, never breaking eye contact to convey that you were serious about the idea. “If we can get someone inside then we get our guy as well as possible evidence for half a dozen murders.”

Hotch sighed before saying your name warily. “You know how risky that is.”

“And that risk is something I’m willing to take in order to stop this guy. If we don’t do this then there may be another victim tomorrow, maybe two,” you said. Squaring your shoulders, you added, “I agreed to take this job in order to help people. I fit the victimology. This is how I can help.”

A few moments of silence passed as Hotch seemed to weigh his options before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he said, “Fine. I’ll think through the details. I want everyone well rested tonight before we start planning tomorrow. You and Garcia share a room at the hotel so she can start making that profile for you.”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a small smile and a nod before heading off to find Penelope so you two could head to the hotel and begin.

“So, are you on one of these apps normally?” Penelope asked as the two of you sat beside each other on one of the hotel beds, laptop and phones in hand to create this fake profile for yourself.

“Me? No, I don’t trust them for this exact reason,” you replied, shuddering as you thought about the poor women who thought they were simply going to meet a new man but paid with their lives and dignity.

“Oh, I see,” Penelope said before instructing you to find a specific type of photo in your camera roll that the unsub may find attractive. “Are you dating at all?”

“Oh, uh, not really,” you said, trying to pace your words so they didn’t seem panicky. “This job takes up a lot of my time and all, so it would be hard to find time for a relationship between cases.”

“You have an excellent point, but you can’t let something like that hold you back! You deserve all the happiness in the world!” she told you cheerfully as she continued typing away at the laptop. “What are your interests?”

Smiling inwardly at how the subject turned from your dating life you told her, “Reading, rom coms, coffee, patisseries, art, the occasional drink.” As you thought for a moment, you added, “Ooh, make sure you put ‘not looking for anything serious.’ I think that’s something that may trigger the unsub into choosing my profile.”

“Smart!” she replied before selecting that option on the profile. “We should do this more often! Maybe when this is all said and done we can make you a real one and I can just do a background check of the person before you go on a date!”

You laughed lightly as you told her, “Let’s make sure I survive this case first then we’ll go from there.”

The next morning came and went as the team tried to track the guy to no avail, so right before lunch, Hotch gathered everyone around and announced, “Okay, this unsub is proving hard to find by other methods, so we’ve decided to pull a sting. We can’t just sit around waiting for our surprisingly extensive list of divorced surgeons to make a move.” He motioned to you and Penelope and said, “These two worked on creating a fake dating profile that the unsub may fall for. The plan is to get him alone and our resident interrogator will pull a confession out of him.”

“Wait, what?” Spencer asked immediately, his eyes wide. “Is it a good idea to send her in when we know the unsub is escalating?”

“It’s the only lead we can get right now,” Hotch told him. “If we don’t do this tonight, then we may risk another woman dying at his hands.”

“Yeah, and it may be her,” Derek said sharply, the idea of sending you into the belly of the beast not sitting right with him either.

“Not if we’re all on our A-games when it goes down,” David said in an attempt to calm the younger men down. “If you’re so concerned, we can send you into wherever he asks to meet her so we can have eyes on her the entire time." He chuckled before adding, "Derek, not you Spencer, no offense but you do tend to stick out like a sore thumb in certain environments."

“But-” Spencer tried, but was cut off by Hotch.

“No buts, we’re doing this. Tonight. Garcia, activate the profile.”

“Yes sir,” she replied quietly before opening up her phone and clicking a few buttons. “It’s done.”

“Good.” He turned to you and said your name to get your attention. “Just make sure you reply to any account that may fit the profile. Garcia will run a trace on it to see when it was created since we knew he makes a new account for every victim.”

“Yes sir,” you replied, nodding your head as you pulled out your phone and got to work. While you scrolled through the app and took a seat in one of the secluded offices to eat your lunch, you were startled by another presence entering the room without knocking. “Geez Spence, you scared me!” you scolded him, clutching your chest in a vain attempt to slow your racing heart.

“And you’re scaring me,” he told you as he shuttered the blinds to prevent any passersby from seeing the two of you in there together. As you sat your phone down on the table, he covered your hand with his and asked sincerely, “Are you okay with this plan?”

You nodded. “It was my idea. We need to get this guy before another innocent woman dies.”

Echoing Derek, he asked, “And what if that turns out to be you?”

You scoffed humorously before deadpanning, “And you really think you’d let that happen?” After he floundered with his words for a few seconds, you kissed him gently before saying, “I trust that if anything goes sideways, you’ll be there to save me. You always are. I just need you to trust me and my judgment on this one. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, it’s just-” he tried, but you cut him off with another kiss.

“Just trust me, love,” you told him once you pulled away again.

After you said this, your phone pinged with a notification that caught your attention. You picked it up and saw that there was a new message in your dating app’s inbox. “‘Hey beautiful, you look like you are in need of some company. How about you meet me at Monroe’s tonight and we see where this goes,’” Spencer read with disdain in his voice. He cringed before saying, “Please say that’s not what I sounded like flirting with you…”

You laughed, telling him, “No, the poetry you quoted at me was much more romantic than that line.” You placed one more quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “I’m gonna have Penny run this profile and we’ll see if it could be our guy.”

Turns out there was a high chance of it being your guy, seeing as the profile was created just hours before and yours was the only account that he interacted with. So after a chat with Hotch about the plan to get this guy to confess, you got dressed in a little black number and silver heels, finishing your look with the most effortful hair and makeup you had done in a while. When you emerged into the precinct, you saw that Spencer was the only one in the immediate area. “Where is everyone?” you asked.

“Getting the gear ready and briefing the police. I got the distinct honor of greeting you,” he told you with a warm smile as he drank in your appearance. His eyes darted around the room to ensure the two of you were alone before he wrapped you in his arms and kissed the top of your head, mumbling into your hair, “Tu es magnifique.”

“Merci beaucoup,” you replied, feeling a heat rush up your neck and into your cheeks at his words. No matter how long you and Spencer had been together, whenever he flirted with you, especially in any of the different languages you spoke, you still got flustered.

When Spencer’s arms quickly untangled themselves from your embrace, you rightly assumed that the team was emerging into the offices once more. Hotch called out your name before asking, “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied with a nod, smoothing out your dress before joining the team near the door.

On the way to the bar in the taxi you were assigned to take, Hotch went over the plan once more, detailing to you that Derek was already at the bar to keep an eye on you in case things went sideways, that you are to attempt to get any sort of confession out of the unsub, and if you could get information on where the killings were happening that would be even better. You had a plan in mind to attempt to get inside his head and get him to confess without even realizing it, so as you walked into the bar, you feigned confidence as you walked up and sat on a barstool to wait for the unsub to approach you.

Derek sat across the room behind you and to your left, near the door, and his soothing voice came through the in-ear you had, saying, “All right, Sunshine, if things go sideways you just say the word and I’m all over this guy.”

“Just trust me,” you told him quietly as you took your first drink from the water glass that the bartender handed you with your drink.

“I believe I’m supposed to be meeting you here?” came a voice from beside you a few minutes later.

You turned toward the voice and smiled in greeting. He did fit the profile, strikingly actually. You noticed a tan line on his left ring finger and how his hands were slightly cracked and dry, perhaps from surgical scrubbing at his job. You offered out your hand for him to kiss as well as your name before telling him, “I believe so. And you’re already nearly half a drink behind, so why don’t you catch up, handsome?”

“I think we can make that arrangement,” he said after kissing your knuckles.

"That was smooth, remind me why you're single again?" JJ asked with a quiet laugh through the in-ear.

You kept your facial expression in response to the comment neutral as the unsub ordered his drink from the bartender. When the two of you began talking, the team kept their ends of the coms silent as you worked to get what information you needed from the unsub.

During the conversation, you almost dragged out what you wanted from him, but he always skirted around it. You knew he was your man though, that was plain as day when he spoke about his ex wife who he told you moved off to California to be with the man she cheated on him with. During the conversation, Penelope informed you quietly that she had found record of the woman as well as IDing the man sitting across from you as Doctor Samuel Costner, who specialized in abdominal surgery.

After another paced drink from you and a couple more for him, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you, his hands splaying out over the tops of your thighs as he asked, “How about I take you back to my place and show you a good time?”

Bingo. His place. One of the things the team couldn’t figure out was where the unsub lived, otherwise it would have been much easier to locate him and the possible murder site. With this information in mind, you leaned back into his embrace and told him, “I like the sound of that.”

The silence from the team was broken as Spencer’s voice asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“As long as we tail them it should be fine,” you heard JJ tell him.

“We have his name now though, can’t we just have Garcia dig into where he lives and go from there?” Spencer countered.

“And go in with what suspicion? We need evidence that he’s killing there in order to step onto the property,” JJ replied.

“But this is a controlled scene, if she gets in the car with him, we can’t control what happens in there. What if we lose the truck on the backroads? This is too risky, I’m-”

“Reid, sit down and trust her,” you heard Hotch scold him. “What we need is a location and she’s getting us exactly that. Now sit back and let her work or else I’m pulling you from this case.”

“Yes sir…” Spencer eventually said.

“Remember the signal,” Derek mumbled as you and the man made your way out of the bar and to his truck.

A nearly thirty minute drive took you to a farm that had vast amounts of pastures and trails hidden within the woods as well as a large picturesque barn that looked just like they all did in the movies. “So this is where you live huh? It’s beautiful…” you breathed as you looked around, trying to take in any specific details you may need to relay to the team in case they weren’t able to tail you.

He nodded as he pulled up in front of the barn, putting his hand on your thigh as he said, “Family owned and operated since the 1800s. And while I don’t do much of the labor around here because of work, I am still the proud owner. Maybe you could be too one day.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked in your most alluring voice as you slightly widened the space between your thighs, the gesture making you feel filthy, but if this was how you caught the unsub then so be it.

The kisses that he gave you started off innocently enough, but soon turned aggressive and you cringed inwardly at the fact that you knew the team was listening to everything from their end of the coms. You didn't even want to think about what was going through Spencer's mind - the man had a reputation of being jealous and possessive sometimes when you two went out and guys flirted with you.

Before you knew it, the unsub was coming over to your side of the truck and opening the door. He pulled you into his arms and asked, “How about we go for a roll in the hay?” You giggled innocently before agreeing, subtly eyeing the black SUVs that had begun to creep onto the outskirts of the property line with their headlights out. They followed you. Good.

So, as he took you deeper into the barn and to an area that was lined with tarps that had seen better days, your eyes began scrutinizing every little thing that could be evidence that he had killed those women here. And you found it as you eyed a corner of another tarp that seemed to have dried blood on it.

Right as you were about to sneak in your code word to the team to signal you had what you needed, you heard Spencer’s distinct voice shouting, “FBI, hands where I can see them!”

“Shit!” the man shouted before jumping off of you and darting away, the large knife you had somehow not noticed before dropping to the ground as he sprinted off.

“We’ve got a rabbit!” you shouted, tossing off your heels and beginning to run after him. “I’m taking the back exit, someone go around the side!”

“On it!” JJ called as she began running around the other side of the barn to cut him off.

When you ran out of the door you saw him leave out of, you were met with a wooden fence that he had jammed in the few moments you were distracted. Not wanting to waste any time, you opted to climb the fence, jumping over and landing awkwardly on your feet. When you did, you felt your heart give an irregular stutter in your chest before starting to beat rapidly. As you stood up, you began to get light headed and it felt like cotton filled your ears as you faintly heard a commotion around the corner of the barn. Heat seemed to fill every part of your body and your vision started to tunnel as you gasped for air, stumbling around to try and steady yourself on the side of the barn before your body gave in and collapsed.

“Stay down!” JJ sternly told the man as she pinned him to the ground and cuffed him. “Samuel Costner, you’re under arrest for the murder of six women.”

As JJ recited his rights and escorted him to one of the police cruisers that had emerged on the scene, Spencer looked around and asked where you were. “Didn’t she say she was going out the back?” Derek asked. “I didn’t see her come back around…”

Panic filled Spencer’s body immediately and he began quickly making his way around the barn with Derek hot on his heels. What if Costner got to you in desperation before JJ arrested him? What if you were bleeding out behind the barn? He had to get to you quickly.

When he rounded the corner and saw you collapsed on the ground, he shouted your name before sprinting over and feeling for a pulse. After a few seconds and some quick math, he said, “Her heart rate is 238 and she feels clammy… She’s not bleeding that I can see, but she’s hardly breathing. Derek!”

“On it!” he shouted, pulling out his walkie to dispatch an ambulance to the location. “They said it’ll take about twenty minutes to get here.”

“She might not have twenty minutes!” Spencer snapped as he watched your now frail body and how you were losing color quickly. With a strength that Derek didn’t know he had, Spencer lifted you into his arms and began carrying you to one of the SUVs, telling him, “Get one of the officers to give us an escort, we’re taking her!”

“Oh, got it!” Derek stuttered out before barking orders at an officer and getting into the driver’s seat of the SUV.

“What’s going on?” JJ asked as she quickly jumped into the passenger seat while Spencer got you and himself into the back seat.

They took off at a rapid speed, Derek intending on cutting the ride to the hospital in half at least as he pushed the pedal into the floor as far as it would go.

“I don’t know, her heart is racing though, and we found her collapsed,” Spencer told her, his own breath beginning to come in rapidly as he began to panic.

“Spence, look at me,” JJ told him gently which prompted him to look up at her. “We’re gonna figure it out. She’ll be okay. What do we know?”

As he ran his thumb over your jaw as a way of soothing himself, Spencer rattled off to JJ, “Well, obviously she was in a state of stress during the sting, but even a panic attack wouldn’t cause her heart to beat this fast, panic attacks top out at about 200 beats per minute. She’s usually good at controlling her anxiety anyway, especially under pressure like this… He couldn’t have drugged her at the bar because she got all her drinks directly from the bartender and she was cognizant of what she was doing and saying the whole time. As far as I know, at her last doctor’s appointment she was given a clean bill of health…”

“Well, not being drugged is good, we can work with that,” JJ reassured him. She checked the map on her phone and said, “We’re almost there, just hang in there.”

When you arrived at the hospital, Spencer carried you in and placed you on the stretcher that was waiting at the triage door. “What happened?” a nurse asked as a doctor walked up while the team began placing EKG leads all over your chest.

“We’re FBI. We were working a case and she was chasing down a perp. I didn’t see her come back from where she said she was going and I found her like this,” Spencer replied as he began following them while they pushed you into a room, JJ and Derek hot on his heels.

“Any significant medical history?” she asked as they began plugging the wires into machines which immediately began blaring with alarms.

As Spencer began rattling off your medical history, two of the nurses escorted JJ and Derek into the hall to clear some space for the medical team. After two nurses got IVs started in your left arm, another came running in with some syringes, vials of medication, and a cart. As they began preparing the medication, the doctor looked toward Spencer and told him, “We’re about to give her a medication that’s going to stop her heart.”

“What?!” he shouted, his eyes wide.

Calmly the doctor continued, saying, “It’s got a super short half-life so it’ll only be for a few moments and then her heart should go back into a normal rhythm. It’s a very routine drug. She may feel sore afterward but that is to be expected.”

And so a pair of nurses worked together to quickly administer the medication. When it hit your system, sure enough, for a few moments he watched the monitor as your heart stopped and Spencer could practically feel his own stop too. The tension in his shoulders eased up slightly as your heart returned to a normal 88 beats per minute, but then alarms started blaring again within seconds as the EKG suddenly looked like a toddler was scribbling on the monitor. Spencer knew that rhythm from a book he read one time and knew that it was deadly if not treated quickly. In a blind rage, he shouted at the doctor, “You said that medication would help! Look what happened! I want a different doctor on her case right now and-”

“Get him out of here! Geneva, get the defibrillation pads on her and deliver 200 joules. If that doesn’t work start CPR!” the doctor called before calling more orders to the rest of the team, two of which began trying to escort Spencer from the room.

“You can’t just-!” he shouted in frustration before he felt a hand on his shoulder that squeezed gently.

“Let them work,” came Derek’s voice from behind him.

When Spencer wrestled himself out of the nurses’ hold and watched them go back into the room, closing the door that now had a blue light above it, both JJ and Derek saw the dangerous look in his eyes. JJ though was the one brave enough to ask, “What the hell was that about Spence? You can’t just yell at the doctor like that! He was trying to help!”

“Him trying to help sent her into v-fib and now her heart isn’t working!” he retaliated, running a hand through his messy hair. He tried to hide the tears in his eyes as he turned away and stalked off down the hall, unsure of what to do with himself at the moment.

“Spence!” JJ called after him, about to follow him, but was stopped when a gentle hand grabbed her forearm.

“Let him go,” said David as he too watched Spencer’s retreating form.

JJ sighed in frustration and said, “I just don’t know what’s gotten into him! Why would he yell at them? Yeah, I’m worried too, but that was a whole other level. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him that mad.”

“Just think about it from his perspective,” David told her vaguely before encouraging the two of them to meet the rest of the team in the waiting room.

Once the pair of them parted ways, David sighed and took off in the direction he saw Spencer going. When he found him a few hallways over staring out a window into nothingness, David cleared his throat and asked, “How long has this been going on?”

“From the time I found her with her heart beating that fast, it’s been twenty-eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds give maybe three minutes from the moment she took off after Costner. It’s been two minutes and forty-eight seconds since that doctor sent her into v-fib and effectively made her heart useless as a pump,” Spencer mumbled.

“That’s not what I meant, kid,” David told him, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips. He leaned his back against the window and said, “I know love when I see it.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, his back straightening as it clicked in his mind what he was saying.

Now David chuckled as he said, “Don’t lie to me, kid. I see the way you two look at each other. The way you joke around together. You’re relaxed around her.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And between you and me, I’ve seen you two sneak off together when you thought no one was looking.”

Spencer cringed at the last bit, but couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips at the thought of you. “We’ve been together for just over a year,” he said softly, the smile growing wider as he remembered your anniversary a few weeks prior. That smile quickly faltered though when he remembered what was happening in that hospital room a few halls down.

“She’s going to pull through,” David said gently, his hand landing on Spencer’s back, giving him a gentle pat.

When he said that, Spencer’s phone started ringing with a call from Hotch, who told him, “She’s stable and resting, they gave her a sedative so she doesn’t overwork herself again. The rest of us need to finish up at the scene. I trust you can get your paperwork done on the jet later. Call with updates, please.”

“Yes sir,” Spencer replied, a tinge of hope in his voice at the words.

“Well?” David asked expectantly when Spencer hung up.

“She’s stable!” he told him, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he exhaled deeply.

“Then go to her!” David said, a smile on his face.

“I-I will!” Spencer said, turning to take off toward the room he left you in. Before he could leave the older gentleman’s presence though, he asked, “David?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t tell Hotch.”

“It’s not my secret to tell,” he replied with a nod before he answered his cell, presumably with his own call from their unit chief.

The wait for you to wake up took longer than Spencer would have liked, and by then they already had to move you out of the emergency department and to a cardiac monitoring floor to make room for more emergencies. When your eyes finally fluttered open in the early hours of the morning, you cringed at the bright light coming from the window before orienting yourself to your surroundings. You were in a hospital room that much was clear, and beside you was Spencer, with one hand in yours and the other holding up what looked like a map that you assumed was a medication insert. Only Spencer would be reading up on whatever medications they may have given you for whatever you ended up in here for…

“Spence?” you whispered to get his attention. When his hazel eyes flicked away from the pamphlet and met yours, you could see how they instantly flooded with tears as a smile made its way onto his face. As he gently threw his arms around you, you asked, “What happened?”

“When you ran after the unsub you collapsed and your heart was beating extremely fast. I got you into the SUV and Derek drove you here to get treated,” he replied, his voice muffled by your hair. You could hear this disdain in this voice as he added, “They gave you this medication that stopped your heart and was supposed to put you back into a normal rhythm, but it ended up making things worse. You went into an even deadlier heart rhythm and they had to shock you. No CPR thankfully, but the nurses said that if that first shock didn’t get you back they would have had to…” He pulled you impossibly closer as he whispered, “I was so scared. I thought I lost you…”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you attempted to comfort him by rubbing soothing circles into his back. That was a lot to take in, but you hated seeing Spencer so upset and that was your biggest concern at the moment.

You cleared your throat, but before you could ask what was on your mind, there was a knock at the door and two people came in: a nurse and a doctor of cardiology. The doctor sent you a warm smile and said, “It’s good to see you awake Miss, you gave the ED team a real scare last night!”

“It was the doctor down there that caused such a fuss…” Spencer muttered, which earned a squeeze of your hand that warned him to be cordial.

“Yes, that’s actually what I came up here to talk to you two about, er, you Miss.” He glanced down to your hands and didn’t notice a ring, so he asked, “And what’s your relation may I ask? Are you okay with him being here for this?”

“He’s my boyfriend and yes he’s allowed to be here. If I don’t remember something that big brain in there will,” you said, a quiet laugh leaving your lips.

“Okay, great!” the doctor said as he clapped his hands together. “So, when you came in, you were in what we call SVT which they treated with a medication called adenosine since you were unresponsive. It’s a fairly routine drug for emergent SVT conversion. When they gave it to you though, it threw your heart into V-fib, which essentially caused your heart muscles to quiver instead of contract. In my years of experience, I’ve only ever seen one condition that would cause that medication to make your heart react like that.” He motioned for the nurse to hand the two of you a piece of paper as he continued, “What I think may be going on is called Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome. It’s a condition in which the conduction system in your heart misfires and sends you into SVT. Luckily enough, it’s easily treated with a heart ablation surgery, but you will have to go through the steps of a formal diagnosis before going through with that as this is just a guess. Do you have any questions for me?”

You looked at the doctor for a moment, your eyes wide as you shook your head no, unsure why you did it, but in your state of shock you didn’t know what else to do. You were sure whatever research Spencer does on the condition would answer any of your later questions anyway. Through the ringing in your ears, you of course heard Spencer’s muffled voice asking the doctor as many questions as he could think of after reading through the education packet, but you paid no attention as you thought of the implications this might have on your job and life as a whole…

What felt like only a few moments passed in the fog of noise and chaos in your brain before you were gently pulled back to reality by Spencer’s soothing voice as he called out your name to get your attention. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asked when your eyes finally met with his concerned ones.

“Too much… I don’t wanna think about it right now…” you whispered, a tear slipping from your eye as an array of emotions blasted through your body. He pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back, not pushing the topic further for the moment.

Wanting a change in subject, you cleared your throat and focused on work, asking, “Did we get him? The unsub?”

As Spencer pulled away and tried to discreetly wipe a tear from his cheek, he laughed incredulously before saying, “All thanks to you.”

“Good. At least he’s put away now,” you said, relaxing as much as you could into the stiff hospital bed.

Spencer looked at you and shook his head in disbelief as he said, “Only you could be told your heart stopped practically twice and that you may need surgery to fix it, and you’re still more concerned about if we caught the unsub or not.”

“What can I say, I was passionate about putting that one away,” you said, forcing a small smile on your lips.

Spencer, for the first time in a while, was at a loss of words for what else to say on the subject, so instead he simply whispered, “I love you,” before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

The two of you quickly broke away from each other when you heard a squeal and something hitting the floor behind Spencer. When you both looked over to identify the sound, you saw your team standing in the room holding various gifts as well as your go-bag and some palatable food for breakfast. “You two! I- We- You-!” Penelope stuttered out as her eyes darted from your face to Spencer’s and back. She quickly crouched down and picked up what turned out to be a pack of makeup removing wipes before asking, “When did this happen?!”

“My man!” Derek said with a sly smile on his face as he went over to clap Spencer on the back.

“I- We can explain!” Spencer said, a bit of desperation in his voice as he watched Hotch place his get well balloon down on the table before walking out of the room.

Spencer took one look at the returning terrified look on your face before starting to stand up to go after Hotch, but stopped when David placed a hand on his shoulder to stop his movement. “I’ll deal with it in a minute, kid. You stay with her.”

After a few moments of tense silence, you managed to say, “Surprise?” as Spencer once again resumed holding your hand.

JJ laughed quietly as she sat down on the couch in the room, asking, “Like Garcia said, when did this happen?”

“Just over a year ago,” Spencer replied, squeezing your hand as his smile once again appeared.

“A year?!” Penelope and JJ asked at the same time, their eyes wide in shock.

David laughed and shook his head before asking, “And how did anyone else not notice?”

“In my defense, I thought it was an unspoken rule not to profile each other,” JJ mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s not profiling if it’s obvious,” David said with a chuckle. He leaned over and placed a kiss to the top of your head before telling you, “Rest up and get to feeling better, you scared us all.”

“Yes sir,” you replied, huffing out a laugh as you watched him exit the room followed soon after by the rest of the team who gave you their well wishes too. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag now…” you whispered, pulling your blanket closer to your body as your anxiety began to creep in.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” Spencer reassured you, his eyes flicking up to the heart monitor and noticing that your rate was beginning to climb. He squeezed your hand as he said, “Right now we just need to focus on figuring out if you have that condition the cardiologist mentioned. Dave is talking with Hotch and I’ll talk with him soon too, okay?”

He gently lifted your chin and mumbled, “Deep breaths, sweetheart…” You simply nodded in response as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe in time with him to calm your racing heart and mind.

After a few moments, Spencer reached over you and grabbed the pack of makeup wipes and took one out, starting to bring it to your face, which prompted you to ask, “What’re you doing, Spence?”

“I’m helping you take your makeup off,” he replied simply as he began to gently run the wipe over your jawline. “I know you hate when you get acne from your makeup when we're busy with cases…”

“I can do it, love, I’m sure you’ve been up all night and you need rest too,” you told him, gently grabbing his wrist to stop his movement.

“I don’t mind,” he told you with a small smile on his lips. “This gives me an excuse to admire your beautiful features…”

You could feel yourself blushing as you mumbled, “You’ve had my features memorized intimately since around two months into our relationship.”

“And I’ll never tire of your beauty,” he told you as he coaxed your hand off of his wrist and began gently working the makeup off your face.

“Je t’aime, Doctor Reid. You always know how to make me feel better,” you whispered a few minutes later when the last makeup wipe was discarded.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on your lips once more.

When you were cleared to discharge the next morning, the rest of the BAU had already flown back home. Hotch offered to send the jet back to get the two of you, but knowing that they could be called out on a case, Spencer declined, also citing to him, “People with unstable heart disease and arrhythmias have the risk of deadly episodes while in the air due to the pressure changes within the cabin as well as the lower oxygen levels and higher risk of dehydration, not to mention the added stress both physically and emotionally.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re just renting a car to get back?” Hotch asked, and the pair of you could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose as he asked this.

“Yes sir,” Spencer replied shortly. “If anything comes up feel free to call. We’ll both get our paperwork done before coming back to the office.”

“Thank you,” he said simply before hanging up.

Since he hadn’t wanted to leave your side, Spencer hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with Hotch about your relationship, and over the phone it was hard to tell what the annoyance in his tone was over… As you began to think about those implications, Spencer glanced over at you before taking your hand in his and saying, “You’re working yourself up again…”

“I’m just scared is all…” you mumbled as the pair of you followed the rental car agent to the car you would be taking back to Virginia.

Once you were both in the car after Spencer inspected it for cleanliness, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, reiterating to you, “We’re going to figure it out. David said he thinks Hotch will come around, and if you’re worried about your heart, we’ve already got your appointment scheduled for when we get back home. Whatever happens we’ll take it on together like we always do.”

“Thank you, Spence,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes once more. You felt like you had done more than enough crying in the past few days, even though there had been more than one occasion when Spencer had rattled off some facts about crying being a great form of stress relief.

Walking into headquarters a few days later, you tugged at your shirt uncomfortably as you and Spencer stepped into the elevator together. You had been to the doctor the day before and they had attached you to a 24-hour heart monitor that they would use to aid in your diagnosis. You’d be lying if you said all the wires didn’t cause you to be filled with an overwhelming feeling of insecurity.

Taking note of your shifting, Spencer asked quietly, “Would you like to wear my jacket?”

“And give Hotch another reason to let me go?” you rebutted, your voice breaking at the end.

“That’s not going to happen,” Spencer reassured you as the doors to the elevator opened and you two walked out and toward the BAU offices.

It definitely felt that way though when the first thing you heard when emerging into the bullpen was Hotch calling both of your last names and saying, “You two, my office.”

Feeling like two teenagers caught in the act, when Spencer closed the door behind him, he immediately started rambling. “Hotch, please I can explain, we-”

“I don’t need an explanation, I need you to sign these forms,” your unit chief said, handing the both of you a packet of papers that you began reading even though the papers shook with the tremors in your hands.

“If you just give me a second to-” Spencer tried again as he took the packet but didn’t so much as glance at it.

“Sign the papers,” Hotch said, ignoring Spencer’s pleas for him to listen.

“But-”

“Spence, read it,” you said a few moments later after you had read the summary of the form on the front page of the packet.

At your words, Spencer finally looked down at the packet in his hands and within moments had it read, his mouth opening a little in shock as he asked Hotch, “Wait…you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m mad. I’m mad that you two would keep such a secret from us, not only because I thought we functioned as a family here, but also because of how much your relationship played a role in that Tennessee case," Hotch told him sternly. "Seeing as even I never noticed before now, and up until that case, it has never interfered with your work, I came up with some forms that should appease the higher-ups if for some reason this relationship were to get out to other teams.”

“So, if we sign these forms then we’re both allowed to stay on the team as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work?” Spencer asked, slightly breathlessly.

“Correct,” Hotch replied, the corners of his mouth almost tugging up into a smile. “We can’t afford to lose either one of you from this team.”

“Well, that’s a relief…” you mumbled as you grabbed a pen out of the cup sitting on his desk and signed the paper in the appropriate places.

“No more secrets, okay?” Hotch asked sternly as he eyed the two of you, pointing his own pen at each of you in turn.

“No more secrets,” you both agreed, giggles flying out of both of your mouths as you looked at each other after saying the same phrase.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Derek asked with a chuckle as the two of you emerged from the office once everything was filed away.

“Once we get her heart situation figured out because I know she’ll want to go to Europe for the honeymoon,” Spencer replied as he pulled you close and placed a kiss on your forehead. The statement made your heart leap in your chest and you began to think of excuses to tell the cardiologist about what caused that reading on the monitor.

So, with your job at the BAU still secure, you took a seat at your desk across from Spencer’s and sipped at the decaf coffee JJ had bought for the kitchenette, completely grateful for the team, but even more so for Spencer. You weren’t sure how you would navigate this crazy and unpredictable life without him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #angst #romance #secret relationship #bau team #bau reader #fanfic #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #spencer reid secret relationship

2K notes · View notes

hotchscoffeecup · 11 months ago

Text

“Power Struggle”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: M

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: For months, you and SSA Aaron Hotchner have been toeing the boundary between romance and your careers. When the unsub that's been killing women in Michigan by way of replicating Zeus' punishments from Greek mythology takes you as his next victim, it's up to Hotch and the rest of the BAU team to find you before it's too late. Hurt/comfort and angst with happy ending.

Tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader kidnapped by unsub, blood, implied SA, nudity, electrocution, scarring, hospitals

“You’re telling me someone is out here killing people to recreate, what? Greek legends?” Sheriff McCullen’s brow pinches as he shakes his head.

“Legends are stories often loosely based on a real person or event to teach us a lesson. Mythology is based on supernatural or sacred lore and explains why things came to be. It’s a common mistake.” Reid speaks quickly and methodically, as if reciting from a textbook. “It’s straight out of the mythos,” he explains, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement as he approaches the whiteboard where photos of the victims had been pinned up for review. Using a ballpoint pen as a pointer, he taps the first image of the first victim. “Regina Manford, she was found tied to a boulder in Craig Lake State Park with her liver removed. Animal predation showed birds had pecked at her while she was still alive. In Greek mythology, Zeus did this to Prometheus to exact revenge on him after he stole fire to give to man.”

Reid moves on to the next victim, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Sarah Walters was found bound to an old water wheel that had been set on fire. Greek Mythology suggests this is a copy of Zeus’ punishment for Ixion.”

“And what did he do to deserve that?” asks the sheriff.

Reid’s lips form a tight line. “He was invited into Zeus’ home on Olympus. After attempting to seduce his wife, Hera, Zeus punished him by binding him to a wheel of fire cursed to spin forever toward the underworld. She might’ve smiled or even looked at him, and in his delusion believed she was a seductress deserving of punishment.”

“So, what? This guy sees himself as some sort of god?”

“We believe that is his delusion, yes,” answers Emily. “Each victim also bore signs of sexual trauma, this is something Zeus is also renowned for in the mythology. Our unsub thinks he’s infallible and that these women’s lives and deciding when and how these women live and die is his divine right.”

“Do we know if there will be more victims?” asks one of the detectives.

You step forward from your place between Morgan and Hotchner. “Given the number of victims Zeus punished within the mythology, we can assume he is not finished. These kills are two weeks apart. It’s been twelve days since the last body was found. We can only assume he’s currently hunting for his next victim. And when he finds one, he convinces her to go to a second location. It's once they leave the primary location that he attacks. In each case, the victim suffered a blow to the head, leaving a uniquely shaped gash in her forehead. This suggests that he strikes them with a distinct blunt object or even a ring that’s on his hand.”

“We need every man out on the streets,” Hotch states, his eyes hard as he scans the group of law enforcement gathered to receive the profile. “He stalks his victims in the city, often on the weekends when night life is busiest. He’s charming. He has no problem approaching women because he views himself as a deity and carries himself with the arrogance and confidence of one. He’s white, in his early to mid 30s, good looking, charming, and likely has a career that would’ve provided him with medical training.”

A female detective with short blonde hair sticks her pencil in the air. “How do we know that?”

“The incisions made on Regina’s body were clean, precise, and showed no signs of hesitation,” explains Rossi. “The M.E. also informed us that the hepatic artery was clamped off, meaning,” Rossi hesitates before continuing on, “meaning Regina Mansford was alive as her liver was being cut from her body.”

An uncomfortable murmuring breaks out. Hotch raises a hand, silencing them. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow, hoping your team doesn’t notice the way your eyes dilate when you look at him and the silent way in which he can command a room.

“This is why we need every available officer on the streets. Increase units in the downtown area. Have plain clothes officers on the streets. That’s where we’ll be. Thank you.” Hotch tucks his head and sweeps out of the bullpen, the rest of the team trailing after him into the conference room.

“Where do you want us?” asks Morgan as you shut the door to the conference room.

“Reid, I want you here working the geographical profile. See if there’s anything we missed that could bring us closer to a precise location where he’s kidnapping his victims. Rossi and JJ, I want you to go back to Sarah’s apartment and see if we missed anything that tells us where she was exactly on the night she was kidnapped. Derek and Emily take the north side of downtown.” He inclines his head toward you. “You and I will take the south side.”

His eyes linger on yours a moment longer than they ought to have. You dip your head and swiftly exit the room, jacket in hand as you prepare to brave not only the frigid Michigan cold but working one one-on-one with Hotch. This had been going on for months; subtle looks, brief touches where his fingers would slide over yours while passing off a case file…yet a part of you still wasn’t sure if it would ever go any further than that. You spend so much of your time with the team, it would be so easy to mistake one gesture for something that it wasn’t. Yet you knew that wasn’t true. You know behavior. You’re trained to recognize the subtlest of shifts in demeanor and body language and you know exactly what is going on.

You jump as someone pushes through the front door of the precinct. Emily’s gentle laugh disrupts your rumination. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She moves to stand closer to you as she zips her jacket. “The guys went to grab the cars.”

You nod and shove your hands in your pockets.

Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow. “What’s up?”

You school your expression and feign nonchalance. “Nothing, I just want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”

Emily’s brow furrows and then straightens, a glimmer of knowing in her eye. “Something tells me there’s a different guy on your mind.”

Your heart skips a beat and you nearly choke on the crisp winter air. “What? I don’t—“ Your words falter as Derek and Hotch arrive, the SUVs humming to a gentle stop at the curb.

Emily eyes you, a sly smile curving one side of her red lips. “We’ll talk later.” She winks and steps forward to open the passenger side door, sliding inside and disappearing into the dark interior.

As you turn to move toward the SUV, Hotch is there, opening the door for you. The gesture surprises you, but it shouldn’t. He’d been doing little things like this for weeks now. You nod your head in thanks and as you turn your body to slide past him, his hand catches your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers glide against the small of your back, guiding your movement into the vehicle.

His hard eyes meet yours as he shuts the door and you’re grateful for the shadows inside the car as you feel your face flush bright red. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat with ease. He shifts the car into gear and pulls onto the road, heading in the direction of downtown.

After a few minutes, you open your mouth to disrupt the silence, but his cell rings. Hotch answers and places it on speaker as JJ’s voice floats through the receiver, “Hotch, we think we’ve got something at Sarah Walters apartment.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“There’s a sticky note in her trash can,” a garbled sound echoes through the speaker as she shifts the phone. The sound of paper crinkles as she reads, “Tony’s at 9, does that mean anything? Has Garcia come across a Tony in any of her research into the victims’ lives? Maybe an Anthony?”

An image of a neon sign flashes across your mind’s eye. “It’s a bar,” you say matter-of-factly.

“A bar?”

“I remember seeing the sign on our drive-in. It’s a bar on the south side of downtown. That could be where he’s meeting these women.”

“We’re only a few blocks away, we’ll head there now. Thank you, JJ.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his jacket pocket.

“How do you want to play this?” you ask.

“We go in, make observations, see if we can identify anyone that matches the profile.”

You smirk and a small laugh escapes your lips.

“Something funny?” Hotch asks, his voice low in his throat.

You purse your lips, pausing before you proceed. “If we go in looking like feds, we’ll scare this guy away.” You tilt your head, considering. “Well, one of us anyway.”

A slight twitch in his brow is the only indication your words have just barely gotten under his skin. “Touched a nerve, sir?”

As the traffic light ahead blinks red, he eases the car to a stop. He breathes out slowly, the amber glow of the stoplight reflecting in his eyes. In less than two heartbeats, he thrusts the car into park and with both hands clasps your face, drawing you in to kiss you with such fervor white spots dot your vision. It takes a moment to process the heat of his mouth on yours and the way his tongue slides between your lips, and before you can truly reciprocate the light turns green and he pulls back, his breathing ragged against your mouth as his forehead touches yours. “Be careful when and how you choose to call me sir.”

Before you can exhale, his eyes are on the road again and you’re driving deeper into downtown.

“Understood,” and then you add, almost imperceptibly, “sir.”

A small smile quirks at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing more as you approach your destination.

It's nearing 9:30pm when you pull up on the street parallel to Tony’s. People trickle in and out of the bar in groups of twos and threes; most are young, in their mid to late twenties.

“Right,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to exit the vehicle. “Stay here.”

“Excuse me?” Hotch asks, reaching over your lap and grabbing your wrist to stay your hand from popping the door open. Your breathing stills and he just barely turns his face toward yours. “Since when do you give me orders?”

Unsure where the confidence to challenge him comes from, you lean in near his ear. You swallow once before speaking. “I think you like taking them.” Feeling incredibly brazen, you nip at his ear once and as the unexpected gesture disarms him; flick your wrist out of his grasp and pop the door open. You slide out of the car and are immediately greeted by the frigid January air eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. Extending an arm overhead to hang on to the frame of the SUV; you lean down into the cab of the vehicle. “I’ve got you right here,” you say as you tap the hidden earpiece. “Let me know if you see anyone from the outside that fits the profile.”

Hotch eyes you and there’s a fierceness in his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he’ll ultimately retaliate for your little role reversal now that he’s gone and upped the ante in this little game of cat and mouse. “See you soon,” you wink and slam the door shut.

As you approach the bar, you make sure your coat is buttoned in a way that hides your sidearm and credentials from sight. The bouncer doesn’t even pretend to ask for an ID as you approach and move through the front door with ease. As you cross through the threshold, your senses are assaulted by the smell of beer on tap, the sharp tang of liquor, grease, and an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes.

Immediately you begin scanning the room. You note the layout of the bar: three exits for patrons, the one you just came in through, one near the bathrooms for cigarette smokers, and an emergency exit on the far right wall near to the kitchen. There are three pool tables all of which are occupied as well as three dart boards along the far wall. Groups of friends engage one another and dates carry on without a hitch. You approach the bar, which is centered along the far wall. Stools line the high countertop and behind the bar, two women work to fulfill the never-ending drink orders. You approach the bar and slide into one of the empty seats, relaxing your shoulders as you do so, and order a rum and coke that you don’t plan on drinking.

After a moment the bartender drops a cocktail napkin in front of you and places the drink on top. You thank her and stir the contents of the drink with the swizzle stick popped inside.

“Is this seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to prickle and you know immediately that it’s him.

Painting on a saccharine sweet smile, you turn toward the voice. A white man, standing at about 6’2”, is smiling down at you. The neon lights behind the bar reflect in his blue-gray eyes and his honey blonde hair falls in soft waves to his shoulders. “Please,” you say demurely and gesture toward the seat. You tell him your name and continue smiling.

“Ronan Carlson,” he introduces himself as he slides in beside you and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket, a fake Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. He’s preening, you think to yourself. The bartender approaches from behind the bar and he smiles, the curve of his lips the opening act of his charming performance. “I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.” He pulls a roll of cash from the inner pocket of his jacket, flips through several bills, and pulls a $100 bill free before sliding it across the counter to her.

The bartender’s eyes widen in surprise and he winks at her. She nods her thanks and turns to make his drink.

“That was very kind of you,” I say, stirring my drink for the thirteenth time.

He shrugs and tips the baseball cap he’s wearing down over his eyes and you know it’s to obstruct the view the cameras have of him. “It’s only money, and I think I may have made her night.” He inclines his head toward the bartender whose head is bent close to the other woman’s. She’s smiling wide and shows her the $100 bill.

Internally, you roll your eyes hard, but externally you smile and look at him from beneath your lashes. “You must have a great job, what do you do for work?”

His hand flexes as he sets his drink down on the counter and you note the two chunky platinum rings he wears on his right hand. There are symbols etched into them offset by different colored stones, but you don’t want him to catch you staring as he answers, “I’m in business for myself these days,” he says with no further explanation. “Though I used to be in the military.”

You feign surprise, though you were hopeful he’d continue to divulge information. “The military, wow. Let me guess,” you pause and allow your eyes to slowly scan him from head to toe. You remember the profile. “Army…medic.”

“Reign it in,” you hear Hotchner’s voice through the earpiece. “Be mindful of how much you reveal to him. Don’t let him know you know more about him than he’s letting on.”

You watch him assess you and your read into him. One blonde brow creeps up toward his hairline and that wicked smile curves his lips again. “Excellent guess, how do you figure?”

Leaning on to your forearms, you push your drink aside and slide your hand over his and you don’t miss the way his fingers tense at your touch.

“It’s the hands,” you say coyly. “You look like you know how to handle yourself.” He relaxes under your touch and a heat ignites in his eyes that makes your stomach churn, but you don’t let it show on your face. “You look like you know how to handle a lot of things.”

He licks his lips and turns the ring on his finger. “Tell you what,” he says as he picks up his drink. He places the glass to his lips and downs its contents. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He looks down at you from beneath dark lashes. “And I’ll show you just how much I can handle.”

You stand up and flash him a grin. “Let me quickly freshen up and I’ll meet you out front.”

His lips quirk into a smirk, “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

You smile as you slip away toward the bathroom. As you push through the crowd you inform Hotch that the unsub is on his way out.

“There’s a line growing out the door,” he answers over the earpiece. “Does the description match the profile?”

“To a T,” you answer as you push past a couple with their tongues in each other's mouths. The amount of patrons has increased dramatically over the last hour. The volume of the music makes it hard to hear through the earpiece. You push your way into the restroom and are surprised to find it empty. Fortunately, the outside noise is muffled. You begin to describe Ronan’s appearance and note the jacket and hat he’s wearing. “He’s wearing two oddly shaped rings,” you add. “I think it’s what’s caused the unusual injury to the victims’ faces.”

“I’ve got him. He’s cutting through the line toward the parking lot.” You hear the car door open and slam.

“Got it, I’ll be right there.”

“Good work,” Hotch says over the open line.

You smile to yourself as you unbutton your jacket, glad to be on the receiving end of his praise. For a split second you wonder what else you could be on the receiving end of if you continue to play this game with him. After the case, you remind yourself. Priorities. Priority number one is getting this sick bastard off the street, and he’s right here within your grasp. You shoulder the door as you reach for your gun, positioning your thumb over the rotating hood to dislodge your weapon from its holster.

Over the speakers, an employee is calling to celebrate someone’s birthday. The crowd is distracted and pushing toward the source of celebration. The bar erupts into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday but you don’t hear it as 30,000 volts of electricity course through your veins. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you fall forward. Pain radiates from your abdomen in waves that crash over you again and again. You try to tell your body what to do as strong arms catch you and pull you into a chest that smells like cigarette smoke, but your limbs don’t cooperate. You feel his nose root into your hair as his lips find your ear. “How’s that for capable?”

As he shoulders your weight and steers you out through the emergency exit you hear Hotch’s voice in your ear. “It’s not him!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice as he says your name. “Do you copy? It’s not him. He gave another man $500 to wear his hat and jacket into the parking lot. It’s not him. Do you have eyes on him?”

Dark spots the edges of your vision as he drags your dead body weight. You try to focus all of your ability on getting out any words that can signal to Hotchner what’s happening, any at all but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.”

You hear the tinkling of keys and a door slide open. Pain rattles through your skull as he throws you into the back of whatever vehicle he’s operating. Pain slices through your wrists as zip ties slice through the skin there. Through tunnel vision you see him leering at you. He’s backlit by the streetlights.

As his fist flies toward you, you finally manage one word.

“Aaron.”

•

When you come to, the first thing you feel before the splitting pain in your head threatens to cleave your mind in two, is cold.

Your mouth is dry, but as you move to lick your lips you realize you can’t because there’s a gag in your mouth. You try to move your hands, but they’re bound too. Zip ties cut into each wrist, securing them at your sides on the legs of a wooden chair. When you try to shift the chair, you learn that it’s bolted to the floor and your legs are spread open; zip ties at your knees and ankles keep them apart. Except for your bra and underwear, you’re naked. He undressed you. You feel the wound from the stun gun before you glance down at your stomach and see the two bloody pinpricks in your abdomen. You feel your heart rate increase as panic begins to set in. Do not panic , you tell yourself as you take a steadying breath. The minute you start to panic, you’re dead. You close your eyes and piece together the last dredges of your memory.

Tony’s. Sitting at the bar. The unsub. Ronan. Hotch was in pursuit. And then there was just pain.

Hotch.

The pain in your skull is overwhelming and you’re not sure if you can feel the earpiece anymore.

“Hotch,” you attempt to say through the gag. “Hotch, do you read me?”

You close your eyes as hot tears brim along your lash line when there’s no response. The signal is out of range or the unsub found the earpiece and removed it.

A door creaks open on squeaky hinges and your eyes dart toward the source of the sound. Ronan walks through the door with a sick smile on his face. As he saunters toward you, he rolls the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. Without looking away from you, his arm drops to his side and he scoops a folding metal chair with one hand, carrying it with him as he edges closer to you.

You flinch as he cracks the chair down in front of you, forcing it open. He chuckles as he takes a seat. His eyes skirt the length of your body and you wish any limb were free to deliver a blow to his smug face.

He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws your badge. He flips it open and holds it up to your face, the way his eyes flit between you and your credentials makes your lip curl.

“An FBI agent,” he says slowly. He slaps your credentials shut against his denim-clad thighs. “Hot damn!” he shouts and whoops. He throws your badge to the wayside and it clatters against the cement floor. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been minutes. The torture is unrelenting and the pain is unending. Your chest heaves as you brace yourself for the next surge of electricity. Ronan, if that’s even his real name, twists the knob on the amplifier and taps the jumper cable clamps in his hands together. He smiles when he hears the buzz of electricity between them. As he presses them into your thighs, you cry out in pain as the shockwaves paralyze your body and mind and the pain overwhelms you.

“YES!” he roars as he pulls them away from you. He’d taken his flannel off, but now he peels off his t-shirt, balls it up, and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face.

With the voltage no longer coursing through your veins, you slump forward, chest heaving as your scrambled brain fights to stay alert.

He drops the cables and clasps your face in his hand, forcing your chin up to meet his wild eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you? You're special.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as if he cherishes what he’s doing to you. “You are worthy of a god.”

When you come to Ronan is watching you. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.

“She wakes,” he muses.

You glare at him and his brow pinches. He purses his lips together like he’s been stung, but his eyes are alight with amusement.

“You,” he says, gesturing up and down your body, “look beautiful.”

You don’t need to look down to know the number of bloodied burn wounds spanning the lengths of your legs. If you couldn’t keep track of any other thought, the count was all that kept you grounded. There were ten. Five on each leg. Your wrists and ankles bled from the way you’d pulled against them with every shock he delivered.

He reaches forward and this time you don’t flinch. He hooks two fingers into the gag and pulls it down over your chin, his fingers trailing your lips as he does so.

“Here,” he says, bringing a bottle of water to your lips. “Drink.”

You clamp your lips shut and turn your face away. He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on now, don’t refuse me. That’s not how you show gratitude when a god shows you mercy.”

You muster as much hatred into your stare as you focus your attention back on him. “Mercy?” you hiss, and your voice is hoarse from screaming against the gag. It hurts to speak. You pull against your restraints. “This is what you call mercy?”

“I’m only testing you to see if you’re worthy,” he says by way of explanation. "You've lasted longer than the others."

“Worthy of what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“To be my Hera.”

“How is what you’re doing to me, what you did to those other women, going to help you find her?”

“They weren’t worthy,” he answered. “They couldn’t take my power like you could, my lightning. They were false. They needed to be punished.”

He leans in, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel his smoky breath on your skin. “But you, you deserve to be rewarded.” Your skin bristles at his words. His lips find your jawline and you grimace as he drags them up the side of your face. When he pulls away, dried blood flakes onto his skin.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes as he smoothes your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “You’ll enjoy it.”

Unable to suffer any more of his poisonous bullshit, you rear your head back and slam it forward. Pain explodes behind your forehead, but it’s worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. He roars in pain and clutches his bleeding nose. White light blinds you as he backhands you and curses your name. His ring splits the skin of your cheek open. The force of the blow causes you to bite your lip and you feel your teeth cut into the chapped skin there. You spit blood at him, angering him further.

“You are false!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he shoves the gag back into your mouth. “You are not her!” He moves to pick up the jumper cables, twisting the knob of the amplifier all the way up causing the bulbs overhead to flicker. You know this is it. If he touches you with those, it will kill you.

Bracing yourself for the killing blow, you go to the grave knowing you did not give in to this bastard.

It never lands.

Instead, three shots ring out and he’s falling to the floor dead at your feet. As the unsub’s body falls, Hotchner’s frame comes into view and a choked sob escapes your lips. He holsters his weapon and runs to you. Emily and Morgan are right behind him. Morgan passes Hotch a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and he makes quick work of the zip ties binding you to the chair. From the corner of your eye, you see Emily turn off the amplifier and check Ronan’s pulse.

Unable to hold yourself up, you fall forward into his ready arms, letting yours fall over his shoulders. Hotch drops to his knee to support your weight. “You’re okay,” he says as he pulls the gag free from your mouth and you sob into his chest. He smooths your hair back from your face, his eyes assessing the damage done to you. Blood stains his shirt, your blood.

“Morgan, your jacket.” Hotch orders.

Without hesitation, Morgan unfastens his bulletproof vest and unzips his jacket. He passes it to Hotch who drapes it around your shoulders in an attempt to preserve some of your modesty.

“I need a medic!” he shouts before directing his attention back to you.

Your eyes waver as you try to keep them open. You lock in on the depths of his warm brown eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says but his voice sounds far away.

“He wanted someone to be his Hera,” you say weakly.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Hotch soothes.

You swallow and it hurts your throat to do so. Your lips crack open, “You found me.”

Hotch cradles your head against his chest. “Of course I did.”

You wince as the sound of a gurney crashes into the room, the metal wheels squealing as it draws near. Your head swims as you’re swept into the air and laid out on its cushiony bed. A light shines in your eyes and voices are overlapping. Blindly, you use what strength you have left to drop your hand off the side. Unable to focus your attention on where he is, you know he’ll hear you. “Don’t leave me.”

And as you lose consciousness, you feel his hand slip into yours.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

•

A steady beeping fills your ears as you slowly come to. Your eyes feel bruised and you don’t think you have it in you to open them, but you feel something around your wrists and bolt upright. Pain crashes over you in a wave. It was a dream. You’re still bound in that basement. The beeping increases, growing louder and faster. Someone says your name and you feel hands on your shoulders. You try to swing your fist and are surprised when your arm follows through and makes contact with flesh. Did you break through the zip ties? You hear your name again, clearer this time. A man. He’s asking you to stop, to relax.

“It’s me,” he repeats and says your name again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” He says your name again. “It’s me, it’s Aaron.”

You stop fighting and blink hard. Hotchner’s stern face comes into view, except there’s concern wavering in the depths of his brown eyes. His brow softens as you relax. A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “Hey there,” he says. A nurse rushes into the room and he raises a hand, “We’re fine, here. Thank you.”

The nurse looks at you and you nod. She looks unsure about leaving but ultimately relents. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

Aaron cups the back of your head in one of his hands and gently begins to lower you back down onto the pillows behind you. You allow him to guide you and feel the tension ease from your muscles as your back sinks into the surprisingly plush hospital pillow.

As the adrenaline wears off, you’re finally able to take stock of your injuries as the pain quickly makes itself known. You feel your pulse beating in your skull, pounding at your temples, eyebrow, and cheekbone. With shaky fingers, you touch the places where you remember the unsub striking you. You feel a thick bandage taped over your right eyebrow and steri-strips over your cheek. Your lip is swollen from where you bit it.

Bandages encircle your wrists and there’s an IV stuck in your hand. You’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and the sheets are drawn up to your waist covering the burn wounds. You don't have to see them to know how bad they look. The pain is telling enough.

“Is he dead?” you ask, lowering your hand back down to the bed.

Hotch’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”

You blink back tears as that information sinks in. “Good,” you whisper in a choked voice. You blink and allow your head to loll to the side. A colorful bouquet of roses and carnations dotted with plastic ladybugs and butterflies sits in a clear vase on the side table.

You smile, “Garcia?”

Hotch smiles in turn. “It was tough to convince her to go home and get some sleep, but I promised her I wouldn’t leave you alone. Even then, it was still a hard-fought battle.”

You chuckle and wince as the movement irritates your injuries.

Hotch telegraphs his next move, and you know it’s to avoid startling you. He cups his hand over your uninjured cheek and strokes the skin there with his thumb.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, and his voice sounds tired and pained. “I should’ve gone inside with you.”

“Hotch, don’t.” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He didn’t know I was with the FBI until after he took me. If you’d been there, he might’ve pegged us as law enforcement and taken off. He might still be out there and we’d be finding another dead woman in a matter of days. You know I’m right.”

Hotch closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. “I could hear you.”

“What?” you whisper. You try to sit up and wince as the movement stings the wounds in your legs and abdomen. Hotch stands and helps adjust the pillows behind your back before sitting back down in the chair at your bedside.

“Not for very long. He drove out of range, but I heard him speaking to you. I heard the blows land. I heard your head smack against the floor when he threw you in the van.” He stops and shakes his head. “I felt so helpless. I was afraid. I couldn’t get to you, just like,” his voice catches in his throat. “just like I couldn’t get to Haley.”

Your heart breaks for him as he speaks. You reach for his hand and take it, squeezing it. “Aaron, you did get to me. You saved my life.”

He clears his throat and swallows. “Yes, but we were almost too late.”

“But you weren’t,” you state, your tone firm. “Aaron, look at me.”

He hesitates and inhales deeply before lifting his gaze to yours. The corners of his eyes soften as he meets yours and you smile. You gently tug his hand, “Come here.”

Hotch glances toward the door and then back at you, “The doctor—“

“Isn’t going to do shit,” you finish. “I’m the one that endured hours of torture. Pretty sure I’m allowed some close comfort.”

He lets out a shallow laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Standing, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. With one hand he loosens his tie until he’s able to pull it up and over his head. He tosses it onto the chair and circumnavigates the bed, assessing the best way to join you on the small mattress.

You groan as you slide over. Hotch reaches out to stop you but you silence him with a pointed look. “Mind the IV,” you say as you pat the space beside you.

Hotch acquiesces, using the tips of his fingers to raise the IV drip enough for him to slide into bed beside you. He slips an arm around you and drops the feed. It falls across his torso. The feel of his arm around you is comforting, like a security blanket, like safety. You relax into him, and rest your head on his chest. His lips brush against your bandaged brow.

“Not quite how I imagined we’d first be sharing a bed,” you joke softly as you nuzzle in deeper against the wide plane of his chest.

You feel him smile against your hair. “Only you could joke at a time like this.”

“If I can’t laugh at what’s happened, I’ll never be able to close my eyes at night.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” He rubs the bare skin of your arm in small circles. “I’ll be there until you can.”

You turn your head to look at him then, your heart full. This is happening. His eyes are on yours and you push yourself toward him ever so slightly. He closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours. It wasn’t hungry and primal like the kiss in the car. There would be plenty of time for that later. This kiss was light, tender…healing.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to go home, I really did but as soon as I got there I—” Garcia’s voice abruptly cuts off. You look up and her initial look of surprise turns to one of abject joy.

You feel your cheeks flush as Emily and Morgan appear in the doorway behind her. Morgan’s eyes widen and Emily’s brow arches as a smile curves her lips.

“I, uh, brought backup.” Penelope giggles. She remembers she’s holding something. “And cookies! I couldn’t sleep, so I baked. I figured I could bribe you into going home and getting some sleep.” Her words leave her mouth at a mile a minute. “I thought you’d fight me on it, so I brought some muscle.” She gestures with a tilt of her head. “They’re the muscle.”

Morgan exhales and points a finger at you and Hotch. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”

Emily elbows him and he drops his arm. She takes the tray from Garcia and walks it over to the side table where she places it next to the flowers. She winks at you as she turns back to Garcia and Morgan. “It’s about time,” she says.

Penelope laughs as she hooks her arm in Emily’s. “What's it been? Two, three months?”

Morgan guffaws. “Months?”

Penelope pats his face with a ring-adorned hand. “My sweet oblivious profiler. Come on, hot stuff.” She takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. Emily shakes her head and laughs. “Men.”

“Safe to say the team knows.”

Hotch releases a breathy laugh and kisses your forehead again. “I know what will be the first thing on the agenda at tomorrow’s debriefing.”

•

6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks since you’d pressed the elevator button that would bring you back to the office. The weight of your gun feels right where it sits upon your hip, your gait more familiar to you now than when it wasn’t holstered to your side. You nervously adjust the grip on your go bag. You’d packed and repacked it the night before.

This morning as you were getting out of the shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your cheek had healed nicely though the skin on your brow that had been split by the unsub’s ring had scarred, severing the tail end of your eyebrow from the rest of it. The ligature marks around your wrists and ankles had healed and the skin was smooth once more. The stun gun had scarred your abdomen, but all that remained were two purple pinpricks of scar tissue no bigger than the size of an infant’s thumbnail.

Your legs are a different story. The front of your thighs are an array of mottled scar tissue. One burn had gone so deep that they’d needed to graft skin from your calf to salvage it. The wounds no longer hurt physically, but you’d woken up from nightmares on more than one occasion.

You were never alone though. Garcia worked remotely on secure laptops with VPNs as often as she was able. Rossi brought you home-cooked Italian at least twice a week and talked with you over numerous glasses of red wine. Reid brought black-and-white foreign existentialist films that you didn’t understand, but his enthusiasm as he watched made you happy all the same. Emily and Morgan brought coffee and donuts as often as they could and Hotch…if he wasn’t at the office or visiting Jack, he was with you. On several occasions, he brought Jack. Jack would sit on the bed beside you, playing with his toys, narrating the adventures of his action figures as Aaron stood in the doorway, smiling. At night, when you had woken in a cold sweat, Aaron was there with a washcloth to wipe it away. When the bandages had stuck to your burn wounds and it felt like your skin was being peeled apart, he got your pain medicine and helped change the dressings, holding you until the pain had passed.

You blink as the elevator dings, signaling you’ve reached your destination. You take a deep breath and smooth down the front of your blouse as the door opens wide. Everything looks the same, yet everything feels like it's changed as you approach the desk you occupy perpendicular to Emily’s. A smile crosses your lips as you see the Welcome Bac k card on your desk. Two vases of flowers sit behind the card. One is almost exactly like the one from the hospital so you know it’s from Garcia. The other, a bouquet of purple tulips, has a note attached to it. You open the note and read it.

Glad to have you back. Things haven’t been the same around here without you. -AH

Hotch. You should’ve known. You smile and tuck the note into your purse.

“Hey, hey, look who’s finally decided to get her ass back to work.” Morgan’s charming laugh is followed by Emily chastising him.

“Ignore him,” she says as she places a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.

“You’re a godsend,” you say by way of thanks and take a long drink. Two sugars, no milk, just the way you like. “Wow, Emily, that’s perfect. I needed this.”

“How come you don’t remember how I take my coffee?” Morgan asks pointedly.

She shrugs, “Chicks before dicks, Derek.”

You sputter and choke on your coffee.

“Look,” he says as he pats you on the back. “Her first day back and you’re gonna kill her.”

At that moment JJ passes by with a file in hand. She raises it in the air and gestures to the conference room. “We got a case.” She smiles at you warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

Together, you, Morgan, and Emily enter the conference room where Reid, Hotch, and Rossi have already gathered. Once you’re all sat, JJ begins presenting the case. You review current victims and why the Sacramento Police Department has invited you onto the case

“Sacramento PD is expecting us this afternoon. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty, understood?”

A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echo throughout the room. As the team gathers their belongings and moves to leave, you wait for Hotch to catch your eye. You wink at him before mouthing, “Yes, sir.”

1K notes · View notes

badathumanemotions · 5 months ago

Note

Hey, would you be able to write a nsfw fic with spencer but maybe where a few of the team members decide to play poker at Rossi’s and it turns into strip poker with like a bit of truth or dare and you end up sat on Spencer’s lap with like barely any clothes on or smt. And then like later they end up having to share a room at rossi’s and then yk..

High Stakes

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Strip Poker, Half Naked Lap Sitting, Grinding, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Face Fucking, Dirty Talk. WC: 5,799 I have no idea how to play poker. (Not Proof Read)

"Alright, who's up for a round of poker?" Derek Morgan announced, his eyes scanning the table.

You looked around at the weary but smiling faces of your teammates. After a long, successful case, dinner at Rossi's had been the perfect way to unwind. The aroma of his homemade lasagna still lingered in the air, mingling with the sweetness of their dessert.

"I think I'll pass," Aaron said, pushing back his chair with a stretch. "It's been a long day. I'd love to join you all, but I better get home to Haley and Jack." His eyes crinkled at the mention of his wife and son.

Rossi nodded, understanding. "Alright, I'll walk you out." They disappeared into the hallway, leaving the rest of the team to rearrange the furniture in the den.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. "You in?" Emily Prentiss asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You nodded, trying to hide your nerves. "Sure, I'm in. It's been a while since I played, but I'll give it a shot."

The table was soon set up with cards, chips, and drinks. You took a seat next to Spencer, who was already shuffling the deck with a focused intensity that was a little unnerving.

"Okay, everyone," Rossi called out as he re-entered the room. "Let's get this game started." He took his place at the table, his eyes showing a hint of fatigue. "But remember, I'm only playing a couple of hands. It's been a long day and I need my beauty sleep." His comment was met with laughter from the others.

The first hand of poker began, with Spencer dealing the cards with a swiftness that spoke of his years of experience playing the game. His eyes darted around the table, reading the subtle tells of his teammates. You took a deep breath and picked up your cards, feeling the smooth edges against your fingertips.

As the hand unfolded, the banter grew more playful, the stakes rising with each round of betting. You watched as Derek Morgan's face remained unreadable, his poker face firmly in place. Meanwhile, JJ's occasional glances at her cards betrayed her excitement, while Garcia's fidgeting with her chips was a clear sign she was bluffing.

Spencer's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his cards, his mind racing through probabilities and possible outcomes. When it came down to the showdown, he laid out a full house with a smug smile. "Well, well, well," he said, collecting his winnings. "It seems like Lady Luck is on my side tonight."

The room buzzed with good-natured groans and teasing. "How does he do it?" JJ jokes, shaking her head.

A couple more rounds went by, the tension rising as the pot grew. Each of you played strategically, the air filled with anticipation and the clinking of chips. Prentiss leaned back in her chair, her arms folded as she studied the table.

Finally, after one particularly intense round, Rossi rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Alright, I think I've had enough fun for one night. I'm going to call it quits and head upstairs." He glanced around the table. "If anyone wants to crash here tonight, the guest rooms are all yours. No need to drive home if you're feeling too tired."

The team bid him good night, their eyes lingering on the chips and cards as they continued to play. With Rossi's departure, the atmosphere grew slightly more competitive. You felt a thrill as the game went on, the camaraderie of the team mixing with the cutthroat nature of poker.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a devilish grin spread across his face. "You know what would make this night even better?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"What's that?" Prentiss asked, her interest piqued.

Morgan's grin widened. "How about we spice things up a bit?" He suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Strip poker, anyone?"

The room fell silent for a beat before bursting into laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up, surprised by the proposal. Prentiss's smile grew wicked. "Now that's a twist," she said, her gaze flickering to JJ.

JJ caught your eye and noticed your hesitance. She leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on the table. "You know, we can always play truth or dare instead," she suggested, her voice low and soothing. "It's less… risky."

Morgan's smile grew. "How about both?" he proposed, raising the stakes. "You can opt to either take a piece of clothing off or complete a truth or dare from the group." The room buzzed with excitement and a little trepidation. You swallowed hard, trying to decide if you were ready for this.

Garcia squealed with delight. "I'm in!" she exclaimed, her cheeks already pink.

You took a deep breath, the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. The thought of playing strip poker was a bit intimidating, but the alternative rule of truth or dare had its own thrill. You found yourself nodding in agreement. "Alright, why not? Strip poker with a twist it is."

The game continued, the stakes now higher in more ways than one. Garcia was the first to go, losing a shoe to a bad bluff. She giggled, tossing it aside and taking a shot of tequila.

JJ's eyes widened slightly as she had to remove her sweater, revealing a tight tank top underneath. The room was getting warmer, and not just from the heat of the game. The tension grew palpable as each player weighed their options: fold and risk embarrassment, or push on and hope for the win.

You felt your heart race as the game continued. With each round, the pile of clothing on the floor grew. Before you knew it, you were down to your last few pieces of clothing.

The next hand was dealt, and you picked up your cards with trembling hands. You had a good hand, but the idea of losing was now more than just about the game. You studied the faces around the table, looking for signs of who might be bluffing.

Morgan leaned in, his gaze intense. "You're looking a little flushed, Y/N," he teased. "Is it the game or the thought of what's next?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your cheeks spread down your neck. The game had indeed taken a turn, and you found yourself in a situation you never would have imagined when you accepted the dinner invitation. You had continued playing, the excitement and the thrill of the game keeping you in your seat until you were down to just your bra, skirt, and panties.

The hand began, and you focused on your cards. You had a decent hand, but not a sure win. The betting went around the table, each person raising the stakes. You looked around, trying to read their faces, their body language, looking for any hint of what they might be hiding.

As the final round of bets were placed, you felt the weight of the moment. If you won this hand, you could keep your skirt on. If not, well, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. You placed your bet, trying to keep your voice steady.

Morgan called, his smile never wavering. Prentiss folded, a knowing look in her eye. Spencer studied you closely, his cards held tight to his chest. Garcia bobbed in her chair, her curiosity and excitement palpable.

As the tension grew, so did the distraction of your state of undress. You noticed Spencer's eyes darting to your chest every few seconds, the effort he was making not to stare becoming more and more obvious. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of power at the sight of him so flustered. The others had also caught on. They knew Spencer's intense focus was split, and they hoped to use his distraction to their advantage.

The final card was flipped, and you watched in horror as Morgan revealed his winning hand. The room erupted in cheers and whistles, your heart sinking as you realized you had lost your last piece of lower body clothing. With a dramatic flourish, you stood and dropped your skirt to the floor.

Spencer's eyes traced down your legs, his cheeks reddening when he realized he'd been caught staring. He quickly looked away. The room fell silent for a moment before the laughter and clapping began again.

Others had invoked the truth or dare clause here and there, but you hadn't yet. Each time someone chose dare, it seemed to push the boundaries a little further. Garcia had to sing a karaoke song, JJ had to do a sexy dance, and Prentiss had to tell a steamy secret from her past. Each moment had been met with laughter and cheers, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the real fun was just getting started.

The next hand was dealt, and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized you had nothing. You didn't want to remove your bra, so you knew what you had to do. You took a deep breath and announced, "Dare." The room grew quiet, all eyes on you.

Morgan's grin grew wicked. "I dare Y/N to sit on Spencer's lap for the rest of the night." A chorus of laughter and cheers erupted around the table. Spencer's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks burning.

You felt your own cheeks rouge at the suggestion, your heart skipping a beat. Being that close to Spencer, especially in your current state of half-dress, was both thrilling and terrifying. But the excitement of the game and the desire to keep playing overrode your nerves. You nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Fine."

Spencer's body moved back before he even had time to process the words. His chair scraped against the wooden floor, creating a sharp sound that echoed in the tension-filled room. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of surprise and something else that you couldn't quite decipher.

You took a deep breath and slid onto his lap with more confidence than you felt. His body was tense beneath you, his muscles rigid as he held himself perfectly still. You could feel the heat from his body, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt and into you. Your heart was racing so fast it felt like it might leap out of your chest.

The others smirked as they shuffled the cards for the next round. They could see the electric tension between you and Spencer, and it only added to the excitement of the game. Prentiss began to deal, her eyes glinting with amusement as she took in the situation.

The next few rounds, Spencer's focus was undeniably scattered. His usual poker face was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a constant battle to not look at you sitting on his lap. His hands fumbled with his cards, and his bets were erratic. It didn't take long before the team noticed and capitalized on his distraction.

"Looks like someone's lost their mojo," Prentiss teased, placing her cards on the table with a smirk. You tried to ignore the smug looks from the others, focusing instead on the way Spencer's breath hitched every time you shifted slightly.

The next hand was dealt, and you could see the determination in Spencer's eyes as he picked up his cards. This time, you noticed the way his thumb brushed against your bare skin as he held his cards, and the electricity that shot through you was anything but calming.

You tried to keep your focus on the cards in your hand, but Spencer's proximity was making it near impossible. His breath was warm against your neck, and you could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath you. You thought you had been careful hiding your cards, but apparently, not that careful.

"You're holding your cards too tight," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and gentle. "It's giving you away." You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into him slightly. His scent filled your nose and it made your head swim.

You took a deep breath and tried to loosen your grip, his words sinking in. The whispers continued, his breath warm against your neck as he pointed out small tells from the others at the table. His voice was a comforting rumble, guiding you through the game.

Slowly, the closeness didn't feel so awkward. In fact, there was a strange sense of comfort in having him so near. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, his arm wrapping around your waist in a protective embrace.

As the game went on, Spencer's whispers grew more frequent. He noticed every little detail about the others' playing styles, sharing his insights with you in hushed tones. "Look at how Garcia's thumb is pressing down on her chips," he murmured. "She's bluffing." His voice was low and calming, his words of advice a secret shared between the two of you.

You followed his lead, and slowly, you saw your luck begin to change. You won a couple hands, the pile of chips in front of you growing. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and the gentle guidance of his whispers had a surprising effect on you. You felt more relaxed, more confident. The daring glances and smiles you exchanged with him grew more frequent, hinting at the thrill you both felt.

Then it happened. As you readjusted yourself higher on his lap for better comfort, you felt it. The unmistakable pressure of Spencer's erection against your backside. A blush crept up your neck, and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. His breath hitched, and you knew he was just as aware of it as you were. The room's temperature seemed to rise a few degrees.

You wondered how long he had been like that and how you hadn't noticed it before. His arm tightened around your waist, and you felt a low groan in his chest. You felt yourself start to get wet, the heat and the thrill of the moment making your body react despite the situation. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

Without realizing it, your hips had begun to slightly rock against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his cock growing harder with every movement. The others at the table were too engrossed in the game to notice, but you were acutely aware of every little sound and sensation.

Spencer's breathing grew shallower. His hips made the tiniest of movements, pushing back into you in a silent bid for more. You bit your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but it was getting harder by the second.

The game continued around you, but the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Each time his hips rocked against yours, it sent a jolt of desire through your body. You could feel your own breath quickening, your chest rising and falling more noticeably with every shallow breath.

You tried to keep your poker face, focusing on the cards in your hand, but it was difficult when you could feel his hardness pressing into you. Spencer's whispers grew softer, his voice a gentle rumble that made your skin tingle.

Suddenly, Garcia broke the spell, standing up from the table with a dramatic yawn. "Alright, I think I've had enough for tonight," she announced, her cheeks still flushed from the alcohol. "I'm going to crash in one of the guest rooms."

Her declaration created a domino effect. One by one, the others began to nod in agreement. The energy of the game dissipated as they all started to collect their scattered clothing. You felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as Spencer's arm loosened around your waist.

Reluctantly, you slid off Spencer's lap and began to gather your clothes from the floor. The fabric felt cold against your skin, which was now sensitive from his warmth. You couldn't help but feel the loss of his touch as you dressed, the excitement of the moment fading into a confusing mix of arousal and awkwardness.

"Thank you for a… memorable game," Spencer said, his voice strained as he stood up. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding yours.

You tried to ignore the wetness between your legs as you helped the others clean up, focusing on the mundane task of gathering the cards and chips. Your body was still humming with the tension that had built up during the daring rounds of poker. The room felt too small, too hot, as you tried to act like nothing had changed.

The group chattered about who would take which guest room, the conversation light and easy. Yet, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment lingering in the air. The way Spencer's arm had felt around your waist, his erection pressing into you, was etched into your mind.

"Dibs on Morgan!" Garcia exclaimed, slapping a hand on Derek's arm playfully.

You laughed along with everyone else, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

"Alright, let's all head upstairs," Prentiss suggested, breaking the spell. "Three guest rooms, and we're all adults here."

You nodded, eager to escape the charged atmosphere, and followed the group up the stairs. You felt Spencer's gaze on you, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same things you were.

Without a word, Emily and JJ claimed the first room they saw. Garcia and Morgan didn't waste any time either, disappearing into the room across the hall. That left you and Spencer, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension as you both stared at the last guest room at the end of the hallway.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Spencer's eyes darted to the room before meeting yours. "Looks like we're sharing," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of something that was definitely not disappointment.

With a sudden burst of courage, you grabbed his hand, your pulse quickening. He looked surprised but didn't resist as you led him to the last open guest room.

Once you closed the door, you pushed Spencer to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes widening as you straddled his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

"Do you want this?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all he saw was the same hunger reflected in his own.

"God yes," he replied, crashing his lips against yours with a fervour that stole your breath. The heat between you was undeniable as your bodies collided, his hands gripping your hips tightly. The kiss was deep and hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could devour you whole.

You grind against his lap, happy to feel that he was still semi-hard. His grip on you tightened, and you could feel his cock growing harder with every movement of your hips. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, panting heavily. Spencer's eyes followed your every move as you stood up and began to strip away your clothing, until you were left in your underwear.

You sat back down onto his lap, this time with a sense of purpose, your legs straddling his. He groaned into your neck, his hands roaming over your bare skin as you kissed along his jawline. His touch was gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat wherever he went.

Spencer's fingers slid up the outside of your thighs, his touch feather-light, sending shivers of anticipation through you. His grip tightened as they reached your ass, cupping you firmly. He pulled you closer, aligning your hips with his, and you gasped as his erection pressed against you.

You rocked back and forth, the friction building between your bodies. His breath was hot against your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone. You wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure grew.

Suddenly, the angle was just right. Your clit rubbed against his erection with just the right amount of friction, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. The sensation was intense, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bit back a moan.

With every grind, you grew closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to stay in control. Then, with a final, desperate thrust, you climaxed, your body shuddering in his embrace.

Spencer watched you, his eyes hooded with lust. He could feel your wetness soaking through the fabric of your panties, and it was all he could do to keep from tearing them off.

With a surprising show of strength, Spencer picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You gasped as he laid you gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was desire mirrored back at him.

His hands traced the line of your underwear, his thumbs hooking under the waistband. Slowly, so painfully slow, he began to lower your panties. You watched as he pulled them down, revealing your wetness to the cool air of the room. Instead of tossing them aside, he folded the damp fabric and tucked it into his back pocket with a smirk.

He spread your legs wide, taking in the sight of you with a hunger that made you blush even deeper. His eyes roamed over your bare skin, lingering on your most sensitive spots. He leaned in, his breath hot against your folds, and you shivered.

Without further teasing, Spencer's tongue darted out, licking a slow path up your slit. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. He took his time, savouring the taste of you. His tongue was soft and insistent, lapping at your clit and dipping into your entrance.

You grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets, your back arching off the mattress as he worked you into a frenzy. The feeling of his mouth on you was heavenly, his skilled tongue flicking and pressing in just the right places. You were so close, your body tightening in anticipation of another orgasm.

But just as you were about to tip over the edge again, Spencer paused, leaving you panting and desperate. He slid a finger into your wetness, and you could feel him smiling against your skin as he found your g-spot with ease. The addition of his fingers sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your legs quiver.

As his tongue danced over your clit, his fingers began to move inside you in a rhythm that was both torturous and heavenly. He knew exactly how to hit that spot, his movements measured and precise, as if he had studied your body's every response. You moaned, your body begging for more as he continued to explore you with his mouth.

Spencer's mouth grew more urgent, his tongue lapping and sucking on your clit messily. He was too desperate to care about the wet sounds he was making, too lost in the taste of you to be self-conscious. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, and you gasped, your nails digging into his scalp as you held him in place.

He could feel your orgasm building, the way your muscles tightened around his fingers. With one final, deliberate thrust, he pushed you over the edge, his tongue never leaving your clit as you came hard against his mouth.

As your body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, you felt a surge of energy rather than exhaustion. The orgasm had been so intense that it seemed to have recharged you. Without warning, you sprang up from the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you turned to face Spencer.

You reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Spencer's eyes widened, his gaze drinking in the sight of your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air.

Standing before him, you began to strip Spencer of his clothes. Once down to his last article of clothing you knelt before Spencer, your eyes never leaving his as you gripped the waistband of his boxers. His eyes darkened with anticipation as you began to pull them down his legs, revealing his cock, which stood at full attention. Your heart raced as you took in the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making your own body respond in kind.

You reached out and gently touched his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it. Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you explored his length with curious fingers. The tip was wet with pre-cum, and you couldn't resist leaning in to taste him. Your tongue flicked out, a soft and tentative touch that made him jerk in surprise.

Encouraged, you took him fully into your mouth, his length stretching your lips wide. You could feel his hands tighten in your hair as you began to suck, your mouth moving in a steady rhythm. Spencer moaned, his hips forward to meet your eager mouth. You took him deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

You paused for a moment to adjust, then took him as far as you could, holding yourself there and swallowing around his tip. The sensation was overwhelming for Spencer, his eyes rolling back in his head. His hips bucked slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and you could feel his muscles tightening beneath your fingertips.

Finally, you pulled off of him, licking your lips to catch the last drops of his arousal. Looking him in the eye, you whispered, "Use me." It was a simple request, but it held a world of meaning. You wanted him to take control, to show you the full extent of his power over you.

Without hesitation, Spencer grabbed the hair at the back of your head and guided his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him. He began to move his hips, fucking into your mouth with a gentle rhythm that grew more urgent with every passing stroke. His grip on your hair tightened.

Your eyes peered up at him, watering slightly from the effort to keep up with his pace. You could see the desire in his gaze, the way his pupils had blown wide with lust. It was a heady feeling, knowing you had this powerful, intelligent man at your mercy, reduced to a trembling mess by your touch.

But Spencer had other plans. He pulled out of your mouth with a soft groan, his hand still tangled in your hair. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky. "I want to feel you first."

With surprising strength, he offered you a hand and pulled you up from the floor. Your legs were shaky, but he held you steady. You climbed onto the bed, feeling the cool sheets beneath your knees. You positioned yourself on all fours, the soft mattress sinking slightly with your weight.

You dropped from your hands to your elbows, arching your back and sticking your ass up in the air. You couldn't help but wiggle your hips back and forth, a silent invitation to Spencer.

He moaned at the sight, his eyes glazed over with desire. He scrambled onto the bed behind you. His hand reached out to cup your ass cheeks, the heat of his palms searing into your skin.

Spencer spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the glistening wetness that leaked from your swollen entrance. His groan was low and guttural, a sound that sent a thrill of pleasure through your body. His thumbs traced slow circles around your opening, teasing your sensitive flesh.

With agonizing slowness, you felt the tip of his cock nudge against you. He pushed in gently, the head of his erection parting your folds. You gasped, your muscles clenching around the unyielding intrusion. Spencer waited, giving you a moment to adjust.

Inch by inch, he filled you up, his cock stretching you deliciously. You could feel every ridge and vein, his length sliding deep within you until you were fully impaled. He didn't move for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled.

Then, once he felt you relax, Spencer set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against your ass. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, the rhythmic slapping echoing off the walls.

You whimpered, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the sensation. It was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't want it to stop. Spencer's hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you back onto him with each thrust.

The scent of sex and desire filled the room as he claimed you, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the wetness of your pussy. Each time he pushed into you, your nipples scraped against the soft cotton of the bed sheets. The friction was maddening, making your already sensitive breasts feel like they were on fire.

Spencer's hands moved to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he adjusted his angle. He threw his weight into each thrust, the force of his hips pushing you further into the bed with every movement.

Then he slid one hand down your body, his fingertips skimming over your stomach and pausing when they reached the apex of your thighs. He found your clit, swollen and sensitive from his earlier attention, and began to rub it in gentle circles.

The combination of his deep strokes and the pressure on your clit was too much. You felt yourself climbing again, the pleasure building to a crescendo. You began to moan, the sound muffled by the pillow you had buried your face in.

Spencer leaned over, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you like that?" he whispered. "Do you like it when I fuck you like this?" He grunts out.

You nodded, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. His whispers grew more explicit, describing every little sensation he felt, every way your body was responding to his. "You're so tight, so wet for me," he continues. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so tight."

With each thrust, he whispered about his desire for you, how long he had fantasized about this moment. "I've wanted to fuck you like this for so long," he groaned. "To feel you this way, to hear you like this." His words were like a drug, leaving you craving more.

"Remember when you were on my lap downstairs?" Spencer panted, his hips never slowing. "How badly I wanted to rip your panties off and bury my cock inside you?"

You moaned, his words painting a vivid picture in your mind. The thought of him wanting you that badly, of him fighting his urges while everyone else played the game, was an aphrodisiac.

As Spencer whispered about how he had imagined watching you bounce on his cock in the middle of the poker game, your orgasm crashed over you. You couldn't hold back the moan that tore from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, the muscles spasming with pleasure.

It was wet and messy, your juices coating his cock with each withdrawal, only to be pushed back in with a slick sound on his next thrust. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal, and the scent of sex grew stronger.

You felt your body tightening around him, your pussy pulsing with each stroke. Your orgasm was still fresh, but the relentless pace Spencer had set had you spiraling towards another peak. His breath was hot and ragged against your ear, his whispers of filthy confessions only fuelling the fire within you.

As Spencer spoke of his fantasies, his hand never ceased its torment of your clit. The pleasure grew unbearable, your body a live wire. Then, as if on cue, another orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake uncontrollably. You cry out, your voice a high-pitched whine.

His thrusts grew erratic, his own need for release becoming apparent. You felt your pussy flutter around his cock, the walls tightening and releasing in time with your racing heartbeat. It was this feeling, the tightness and the warmth of you, that pushed Spencer over the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could go. You felt his cock twitching, and then the warm flood of his cum filled your pussy. He groaned your name, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into you, his orgasm intense and uncontrollable. The sensation was intoxicating.

Panting, you both collapsed onto the bed, your bodies entangled in a mess of limbs. You clung to him, your chest rising and falling in time with his, your breaths mingling in the quiet room. Spencer's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as if afraid to let go. You felt his heart racing beneath your cheek. You were both thoroughly exhausted, the passionate frenzy leaving you drained yet content.

After a moment, you lifted your head and met his gaze. His eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a silent question hanging in the air. You offered a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. The tension dissipated, replaced by a gentle warmth.

As your breathing evened out, you leaned in to capture his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. The taste of yourself still lingered on his lips. Spencer's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders, the feel of his skin smooth and warm beneath your fingertips. He mirrored your movements, his touch gentle and exploratory, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

Spencer's lips trailed down your neck, peppering kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You nuzzled closer to him, your breathing slowing as the weight of sleep began to claim you. "With how loud we were, we're definitely sneaking out before the others wake up, right?" you whispered against his skin.

He chuckled, the vibration running through you. "Right," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. You could feel his smile against your shoulder. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, the gentle pressure lulling you closer to slumber.

#request #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #masterlist #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #strip poker #bau reader

951 notes · View notes

springtyme · 5 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 ♡

Emily Prentiss x BAU!Reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

summary: You and Emily takes a break from the case you're working on together.

word count: 875

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓) 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞

The leaves crunched under the tires of the SUV as you drive down the winding road, the vibrant oranges and yellows of fall foliage creating a picturesque backdrop that contrasted with the weight of the case you were working on. It is one of those crisp autumn mornings where the air feels electric, vibrant leaves swirling like confetti in the wind, the windows rolled down and crisp autumn air is swirling through the car.

Emily sits in the passenger seat beside you, her focus directed at her notebook, scribbling down notes. Every once in a while, she will look up, scanning the tree line as if the answer to the case might materialize from the colorful landscape.

You can’t help but steal a glance at her, your heart fluttering. Something about her is just so captivating—the way she focuses with such intensity, the slight furrow in her brow as she brainstorms, and the way her dark hair falls around her face, framing her features in the golden morning light. It would probably all be easier if you weren’t colleagues, you wouldn’t feel as bad or as complicated about your attraction.

The conversation had been light so far, but a lull has settled in the cabin of the car. When you had told the others that you would go for a little drive to clear your head and contemplate the next steps in the case, you hadn’t expected for Emily to ask if she could come. As you navigate the road, you think about what to say to bridge the silence.

“Hey, Em,” you finally break the quiet, keeping your voice casual. “A penny for your thoughts?”

She tilts her head slightly, pulling her focus from the notebook to meet your gaze. The sunlight catches in her dark hair, creating a halo effect that amplifies your stirring emotions. It takes a second for her to respond, her brow relaxing as she launches into her thoughts.

“I was just going over the timeline of the events,” she says, tapping her pen against the side of her notebook. “There’s still something off about the alibis we were given. I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s hiding something.”

She looks away, eyes drawn to the swirling leaves outside. “I just wish we could find a way to crack this, you know? It feels like we’re chasing shadows.”

“Right, and there’s still so much we don’t know about our suspect.”

She nods, her eyes narrowing as she considers the situation. “I feel like we’ve overlooked something crucial. Maybe it’s in the way the incidents are connected? We should try and see if we can get an overview over everything and see if we can find a common thread.”

You lean back in your seat, contemplating her words as you keep your eyes on the winding road ahead. Emily's passion for detail and her determination to solve the case only deepen your admiration for her. “A detailed overview is a good idea,” you reply, trying to channel your thoughts into a structured response.“Let’s map it out when we get back,” you suggest. “If we can visualize everything—the timeline, the suspects, the alibis��it might give us a clearer picture.

You nod thoughtfully, but as you shift your gaze back toward the winding road, a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the open windows. The vibrant leaves from the trees dance gracefully into the air, swirling around the SUV like golden butterflies. As one particularly daring leaf flutters in through the window, it makes a delicate spin before settling on Emily’s notebook.

Startled, she looks down, her eyes widening in surprise before breaking into a radiant smile as she picks up the leaf up between her fingers. The light filters through it, revealing an intricate pattern of veins that almost resembles a work of art.

You can’t help but grin at her delight. “Well, if that isn’t a sign of inspiration, I don’t know what is,” you joke lightly, grateful for the moment of levity amidst the weight of the case.

Emily holds the leaf up to the sunlight, allowing its golden hues to shimmer in the light, her expression a mix of wonder and thoughtfulness. “Maybe it’s the universe telling us to take a break,” she suggests, her tone playful yet earnest. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee and a pastry right about now,my treat.”

You chuckle, unable to suppress the warmth blooming in your chest at her offer. “I’m always down for coffee and pastries,” you respond, glancing at her with a playful smirk. “Especially when you’re the one treating.”

Emily laughs, a sound that mingles with the rustling leaves outside, bright and infectious. It feels good to share this lightness with her, especially in contrast to the heaviness of your work.

As you navigate the road that leads to the quaint little coffee shop you have in mind, the vibrant landscape outside only adds to the cozy atmosphere you’re creating in your head, intermingling with the scents of pine and damp earth that waft through the open windows. The trees close in, their leaves glowing under the sun, and for a moment, all the weight of the case seems to fade into the background.

215 notes · View notes

luwritesstuff · 1 month ago

Text

Breaking Point

Spencer Reid x reader

notes: angst/arguing followed by fluff/comfort, gn!reader, no use of y/n

wc: 884

Every relationship had their weakness, the one thing that tested how strong two people really were together. You and Spencer found out months into dating that your relationship's pressure point was exhaustion. It hit you both after two back to back cases across the country in one week, a friend’s wedding on Saturday, and a dinner with your parents on Sunday. By the next week, the two of you were stretched thin.

For you, the exhaustion made you irritable. Things you usually had patience for were getting under your skin and turning you into, quite frankly, an asshole. Spencer somehow had the most patience in the world and this only pissed you off more. Why wasn't he annoyed that your neighbors kept taking up two parking spots? Why was he so calm when you lost power for 12 hours?

As much as you ranted, Spencer listened. He made it a point to be a good boyfriend even on your worst days. This didn't mean that the exhaustion didn't get to him too. Spencer’s lack of sleep brought out his insecurities. The more irritable you got, the more worried Spencer became that he was the one annoying you.

On a normal week, you had more control over your emotions. You were thoughtful about how you spoke to Spencer and you were able to let the small stuff roll off your back. But this week wasn't a normal week and you couldn't stop the anger that kept slipping out of you around every corner. Spencer’s solution was to give you space, but deep down, you didn't want to be alone. Not even on your worst day did you want Spencer not to be curled up on your couch with you.

And how could Spencer say no to you? He wasn't evil, if you asked him to stay, he'd stay. Even if you had a permanent scowl on your face and didn't offer any conversation.

“Spencer!” You groaned, fighting the urge to stomp your foot like a child. “Why do you keep putting your wet towel on top of mine? There's another hook behind the door and every time I go to use my towel, it's wet!” You brought the towel out to Spencer and threw it onto the couch. Before he could finish his apology, you were continuing, “It just drives me crazy, honey. It makes me cold getting out of the shower and-”

“If you hate having me around so much, then why am I even here?” Spencer cut you off, raising his voice in a way you'd never heard directed at you before. Anyone who didn't know Spencer well would see his words as anger, but you knew Spencer well and you could feel the hurt and insecurity seeping out through his voice.

You both froze, staring at each other in silence while you replayed his words in your head. After a beat, your shoulders sagged and you moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him. “Shit,” you sighed and grabbed the towel to start folding it, “I'm being mean, I'm sorry. I do want you here,” you promised and looked over to find Spencer staring at his lap.

“It's fine if you don't, just… tell me that. I don't want to keep pissing you off and making things worse,” his voice was calmer now and your heart ached. Spencer, the light of your life, felt unappreciated and unloved, because of you.

You reached out to take both of Spencer’s hands into your own and gave them a squeeze. “Hey, I want you here. I love you,” you emphasized, “having you here helps and I'm sorry I haven't been showing it. This week was just… you know how it was. And my parents just get under my skin, but I shouldn't have taken that out on you. I'm sorry, sweetheart.” Spencer couldn't hold any anger towards you if he tried and the thought made you want to cry. Your Spencer, that you were cold and bitter to, still held your hands tightly and pulled you to his chest after your apology.

“I'm sorry I put my wet towel on top of yours. I know you like having a warm towel after your shower,” he said softly and kissed the top of your head, “and I'm sorry I raised my voice at you.”

You sniffled and shook your head against Spencer’s chest. “No, don't apologize for that. You should've raised your voice at me sooner, I was being a brat,” your voice was muffled by Spencer’s shirt but he took every word in, rubbing your back as you spoke.

After you'd both calmed down, Spencer took you to bed where you both slept a solid three hours. You woke up feeling lighter than you had all week and Spencer felt relieved to have you back to your usual self. “There you are, my beautiful love,” he whispered and brushed your hair from your face.

“You're one of a kind, Spence. Let's not overdo ourselves like that anymore. Next weekend, we’re taking both days off and we’re not seeing anyone but each other,” you promised and rolled over until you were straddling Spencer’s hips. His thumbs traced shapes into your hips and he agreed eagerly by pulling you down into a kiss.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #gn reader #no use of y/n #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #x reader #hurt/comfort #bau reader #spencer reid x bau!reader

133 notes · View notes

bringmeanangel · 2 months ago

Text

I Smell Snow

Pairing: Spencer Reid and GN! reader Warning: talks of a case, but not in detail Synopsis: The team is stuck on a case and you know you're missing something. Spencer knows what you need to clear your mind.

A/n: Just came to me. Hope you enjoy. Not totally edited. Drabble

The team was working on a case in upstate New York. The weather was finally turning cold, which you absolutely loved. The whole team knew how much you liked when it snowed.

"It's going to snow today" you said more to yourself smiling wide.

"You know, you say that every time and you're always right. How do you do that?" Emily asked.

"I can smell it." you walked into the building missing the playful glances from the team.

Unfortunately the case was going nowhere. Everyone was felling discouraged, but you in particular because you there was something obvious that you were all missing.

"Hey" Spencer nudged you gently and you looked at him and towards the window where he was pointing.

You couldn't help but smile "Snow" you were excited

Something about the tone of your voice, he couldn't help but chuckle. You had seemed so tense and looked almost on the verge of tears, but once you saw the snow, you were relaxed.

"Do you want to go outside?" he whispered and you shook your head.

"We can't. The case."

"I know, but we've all hit a wall and I know how much you like to go outside on the first snowfall." he was already standing up.

"That's true, but Spencer-"

"It's good to get fresh air, plus it will help clear your mind. I'll go with you and then maybe whatever we're missing will come to us."

"Yeah..." you knew he was right.

You looked out the window and Spencer smiled to himself. You looked peaceful.

"Come on." he said.

You stood up, and Spencer let Hotch know that you to were just stepping outside for a moment.

The cool air felt refreshing and you two made your way to a small alley by the police station.

You looked up at the snow with a huge smile on your face. You stretched your arms out wide and stuck your tongue out.

"What are you doing?" Reid laughed.

"Catching snowflakes" you looked at him, dropping your arms to your side. "Didn't you ever do that as a kid?"

"Uh, no. I did not." he blushed.

"Do it!" you said, almost childlike wonder and he smiled shaking his head.

"You enjoy yourself."

You stretched your arms out side again, looking up and sticking your tongue out. You out a few snowflakes. You wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Ready to go in?" the hopeful tone in his voice was not lost on you.

"Not yet. You go inside. I want to stay out a bit longer."

"You're going to catch pneumonia or a cold."

"Party pooper" you stuck your tongue out at him.

All of the sudden looked so shocked, Spencer looked behind himself thinking someone was there.

"That's it! That's what we've been missing with the case. Ugh, you really are a genius."

"I am." he said matter of factly.

"You were right, coming out here would help." you grinned

Spencer opened the door to let both of you in "That and I wanted to see you smile"

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #fluff #bau reader #snow

115 notes · View notes

writersrkive · 3 months ago

Text

Warmth | Aaron Hotchner

summary: Your period arrived, and you are feeling like shit, but that doesn't mean you won't go to work. Your body is pleading to rest, but you are stubborn, so you act like you are fine. However, Hotch is there to take care of you.

genre: comfort pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader warnings: cramps and physical discomfort caused by menstruation, fainting.

a/n: maybe is not a good one, but I'm on my period, so let me be delulu. English is not my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

When your lower back started to hurt, days prior, you knew what day of the month was getting closer. You prepare yourself, however that morning your body felt heavy, almost numb.

Walking out of bed, going to the bathroom, showering and dressing up were difficult tasks. The morning didn't go any better. You had problems with your car, the traffic was hell, and when you arrived at Quantico, fifteen minutes late, your ID wasn't in your wallet. You had to walk back to your car and go up to the floor where you worked five minutes later.

“Did you have cardio yesterday? Is that the reason why you are so late?” Derek asked, teasing, but you were not in the mood to joke with your best friend.

"Maybe I just took too long to hide the body of the rat that was bothering me last night, do you want me to show you what I did with it?" I asked, finally sitting on the chair to rest my lower back. My belly was hurting a lot.

“Uh.” Emily said and chuckled when she saw Derek's surprised expression.

“Maybe not the time.” The dark skinned whisper.

“Definitely not.” I answered. “Did Hotch…” I started, turning to JJ.

“Don't worry. He has been inside his office since we arrived. I don't think he noticed."

A few minutes later, I was leaning towards the files I had on my desk, not because I couldn't see, but because I needed to feel something warm towards my belly. My hands weren't enough, but it was all I had.

“Take this.” Spencer said, handing me some pain killers.

“Thanks, but last time I tried, they didn't work."

“Try again.” Emily said softly, understanding what was happening. “If you don't feel good, tell us.”

“Thanks, but seriously, I'm fine.”

That wasn't true though. Thank God we had just file day, because I wouldn't be able to fly in that condition. But at least I would have the opportunity to sleep a little thereby.

I needed something warm. So I stood up and walked to the mini cafeteria, where there was a coffee machine, with tea bags on the side and snacks. My tea was already prepared, I only wanted to grab a chocolate bar, but the cramps hit me, making the cup of tea almost fall from my hands.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.” That calm and velvety voice made me realise the man who I liked was now next to me, helping me by taking the cup and steadying myself with his other hand.

“Sorry, boss.” I whispered.

“What happened? Are you sick?”

“Kinda… I'm just not feeling good. You know, that day of the month.” I answered, still trying to breathe, feeling a tear of cold sweat slide down my back.

“It's okay. You need to rest. Go home.” He said with a firm, yet soft tone of voice. The team was always saying he only used that tone with me.

“I'm fine, seriously.”

I could see in his eyes that he was not convinced. “Okay, but let me know if you need something. Don't think I didn't notice that you arrived late.”

“I'm really sorry. That won't happen again.” My cheeks were probably burning, and I didn't know if it was because of my period, or the embarrassment.

“What I'm trying to say is that I know that you are not feeling good, and I will understand if you need to go back home.” He reassured me, lightly caressing the arm that still held me.

“Thanks.” I whisper.

“Here. Take this.” He handed me a warm compress that he took out of the microwave after heating it for a few minutes.

The tea and compress helped a lot, however, the painkiller didn't work. I felt like I was about to faint. The noises of our workmates, the weather, and even poor JJ's breathing was stressing me out. A break was what I needed, but I wouldn't be able to take one, so instead, I went to the bathroom. I didn't know Hotch was observing me from his seat, through the office window.

In the bathroom things weren't better. My forehead was covered in sweat, my throat felt dry and my legs and arm were about to give up. All of that was reflected on the mirror in front of me.

Someone knocked.

I opened the door and then my vision turned black. Next I remember strong arms embracing me on the floor. “That's it. I'm taking you home.” He said.

“I'm…” I tried to talk.

“No, you are not fine. Sometimes you need to hear your body and rest.” He explained gently, moving my hair out of my face. “You are going to drink water. I'm going to get your stuff and I'll take you home.” It was obvious there was no room for discussion.

“Got it, boss.” I whispered, letting myself smile on his chest. It wasn't a surprise how excited I was because he was taking care of me, even if I was feeling like shit. He was the warmth I needed.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #bau team #bau reader #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds #boss aaron hotchner #criminal minds stuff #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #writernagisaarchives #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

482 notes · View notes

katharine1994-blog1 · 25 days ago

Text

Aaron Hotchner xBAUreader!

I Will Find You Part1

First time posting this kind of fanfic, super excited, would love feedback but please be kind haha! not totally sure of correct terminology so forgive for any mistakes.

Back story: You and Hotch have been very close/pining but nothing has ever happened despite all the team knowing and wanting you both together, when something goes wrong with a seemingly unconnected murder case and your stalker, Hotch is forced to confront his feelings about you and fight to keep you alive.

CW: age gap, pining, stalking, murder, kidnapping, physical abuse/assault, adult themes, sexual content. POV reader and POV Aaron Hotchner

The bullpen is eerily quiet, its a Friday 2am, the other agents have gone home or are out on field for other cases, your team is the only one in the office.

The team have been working tirelessly on a local murder case for a few days now and are no closer to catching this killer, 5 young women, all killed by asphyxiation, he's raped them before and again post mortem but leaving no physical evidence, then they are posed in the middle of the bed with a bouquet of dead flowers and dressed in a white dress, the rest of the scene is tidy and spotlessly clean, the local PD requested the BAU's support on Monday when they had the name of another missing girl, hoping she would be found alive, the press have started dubbing him the 'Black Groom' and started causing panic and chaos on the streets of DC, JJ has desperately tried to steer them away from using this name but to no avail, on Tuesday when the latest victim was discovered, Hotch, yourself and Morgan were first on the scene where you discovered a new detail, a new part of the signature.

The first periluminal profile built was he's a white male in his 20s to 40s, he's a sexual sadist and has a deep routed hatred of women in his life, possibly started with his mother but most likely a girlfriend or wife are the current stressor, perhaps a recent rejection or stressful situation where he feels a woman has emasculated him, despite his sadism he is methodical, calm even, keeps the girls for a few days before returning them home 'safely' tucked in bed or left in a motel room close by if there's too much police presence, none of the girls are linked, all single workaholic types with friends being the ones noticing them missing after a few days, usually these women keep to themselves so not hearing from them wasn't uncommon in most scenarios, no men in their lives not even online.

Garcia has combed through these girls lives and there's no link, all are on dating sites but with no common linked matches meaning he's likely stalking them for a few days, learning their habits and routes to and from work before taking them in a spree attack, he's using chloroform to subdue them, then he continues using this drug during the following 3 days likely to keep them subdued and too weak to fight back. But where is he holding them?

The only factor about the girls which was painfully obvious is that they all look just like you, no one had said it out loud which made it worse, you had been with Hotch when you saw the most recent victim and you'd become visibly distressed, Hotch tried to approach you but you had played it off as a bout of sickness, how could you tell him? The single perfect red rose left at the foot of the bed, the new signature, you see it in your minds eye, with the black satin ribbon tied round it, is it him?

You'd been working with the team for over a year now and grown close with them all, at first understandably they were weary of you but making some great calls on your first case and saving Morgan's life with an unsub along with a police officer in New York had really propelled you forward in their estimations, you noticed the most change in Hotch, at first he seemed to not like you very much, he seemed to pay particular attention to you, at first you thought he was being over bearing because you were younger, but as it continued you realised he was protecting you, he would stand with you when out in the field and would often put you in his team, he would help you with your bullet vest and would always check on you after a rough case, he even sometimes drove you home, you thought it was him being a great boss until Morgan pointed out it might be more, deep down you tried to stifle your feelings for him but you felt yourself leaning towards him while he spoke, reaching for his arm and being equally as protective of him, maybe he did feel the same, but nothing could happen, how could they? He is your boss for a start, your stern, tall, strong boss! he's had a kid, Jack was such a great kid and since Hayley's death 3 years ago Hotch had really taken time for them both, stopped taking on everyone else's work and allowed the team to help, all of you helping him finish reports on time, even Will and JJ making play dates even though Henry was far too small to really appreciate a bigger kid to play with yet you all spent time together outside and at work, its not surprising you feel this way. Everything screamed for you to stop liking this man, but you cant help how you feel, and even if he didn't feel the same way, what harm is it doing? apart from that one night, the memory is burned on your memory.

"Alright lets go over this again, the ME said the ligature marks were made on top of each other with fibres found deep under the skin like friction burns, these fibres are commonly found in satin scarfs or something similar, there's no way to pin point exactly from what or where, the unsub is likely choking them until they fall unconscious, the ME also suggested by the wound pattern he's raping them while they are unconscious" Hotch states stiffly rubbing the bridge of his nose "can we deduce anything with a geography profile Reid?"

"Not really, all these women live in different areas and are from different class backgrounds, so there's no safe zone he's choosing its very sporadic I cant work out whether he's working in or out of his comfort zone, I think he's choosing the girls rather than whether its easier or further from home. Their bodies at first seemed to never leave their own home with no evidence of a break in or struggle but the last people to see them said they were heading home they likely never made it, he's likely picked them on the way in a spree attack meaning ne knows their routes to and from home and picking the ideal spot, he will have a car or likely a van to go un-noticed. The latest victim we knew was missing which gave us an advantage slightly thinking he would bring her back home, but he's watching us too it seems, the motel was a few blocks away, he was in and out before anyone noticed she was there"

Reid says staring away from the map on the white board and turning to face the room, fiddling with the marker pen lid popping it on and off the pen, chewing his lip.

"Garcia, anything from the motel CCTV" Hotch didn't look up from his file as he spoke

"No sir nothing, the rooms were vacant with no security cameras on the grounds, seems like a cash on the door no questions asked kinda place, only ones I could find were located around the buildings and apart from supplier vans, cleaners, laundry services picking up, which I've checked there's nothing suspicious and all accounted for and have alibi's, its like he's a ghost" Garcia clicks the keys on the laptop in front of her joining the team in the main conference room as according to the current time frame, he has another girl and she's got less than 12 hours.

"Don't his actions scream remorseful to you guys? like he has to do this rather than wants to? he's not a rapist seeking dominance and to overpower his victims, not like your usual sadist, its the equivalent of turning their faces away during the act by having them being unconscious or asking how it was, his first kill could've been accidental, the scene seems more practice then perfect but caused him greater sexual release, leading him to want to do it again, to rein act the fantasy"

Emily interjects chewing the top of her pen leaning on her elbows on the table glancing down at the scene photos on the table.

Empty coffee cups and take-away containers scattered around the table, yours is untouched, you, Morgan and Hotch went to see the last victim on Tuesday and you've not been the same since, seemingly unfocused and jumpy, you've attempted to shake it off, he keeps them for 3-4 days, he's likely got a victim now but no ones been reported missing, he's 2 steps ahead and with this change in leaving the rose, his time line might of also changed, you sit staring into space chewing your nails anxiously

"Yet the Unsub is now killing them on purpose, you could argue it was an accident on the first victim but now he's got a taste for it, he's coming into his own sadism, he's likely a slim build, can't overpower women normally so the choking and drugging is a crutch, how he's leaving them yes you could say its an act of remorse, but what if its actually a taunt?"

Morgan points out to Emily, leaning back with his feet on the desk balancing on two chair legs

You shiver at the thought of it crossing your arms rubbing them as goosebumps appear all over, these girls suffered for hours before dying and he's only getting more confident, it makes the hair on your neck stand on end, but you've seen worse so why does this case matter you wonder? because its in your city, your home? or something else, the rose.

"He's spending hours with them, days even, I don't think the unsub is leaving them alone at all, the multiple rapes and choking is only a small part of it, see her hair has been washed and combed, she's got makeup on, it its well applied so maybe she's done it herself? but see her arms and legs, she's been beaten, and look this victim is the same, her abdomen is also bruised, victim one seems to of got the worst with him even leaving bruises on her face, he's beating them, either to keep them submitted or something is triggering him into a angry rage, this show pure rage in-between all the calculated steps he takes" he pauses and takes a breath in before continuing "they are workaholic, single, strong women, same build, hair type and race, who would likely not give him a second glance, we need to figure out who his real target is, profile the victim then we might find him, and figure out if she was one of these women or if she's still out there" Rossi states, removing his glasses and stares at everyone before letting his eyes fall onto you, he lingers then returns to his file in front of him.

You and Morgan look at each other knowingly from across the table, you try to avoid his piercing stare as your stomach starts turning when suddenly your eyes catch Hotch, he's been watching you for a while, even though you kept your eyes forward you knew he was watching you, you could feel it, his stern brow knitted together burning a hole into you, but when your eyes finally meet his eyes are all softness and concern, somethings off with you and he knows you are keeping something from him, you've been close in the past but for a few weeks you've been distant and it hurts not to tell him, since that night, keeping him at arms length and maybe been a little short with him, he keeps asking if you're ok, you cant worry him, not now, its better this way, its what he wanted right? there's a girls life on the line.

Morgan signals you to leave the room, you stand Hotch's eyes don't leave you as you try desperately to lose his gaze, if you could melt in to the wall you would

"excuse me" you say quietly and exit the room

"are you alright Y/N?" Hotch's stern voice low and calm freezes you into place.

"Yes, I just need some coffee" you lie with a full stone cold cup on the table, Hotch clocks the cup and his eyes burn into your head as you keep your back to him so he doesn't see the rising panic as you slink out the room, as you leave you hear Rossi whisper "come on Hotch she's clearly not OK, this unsub is hunting girls just like her, just give her a minute"

Morgan excuses himself and follows you, nodding at Hotch letting him know that he's on the case.

You stand in the small kitchen area your hands are shaking, you take some deep shaky breaths trying to steady them, you grab a glass and start filling it with water and take some slow small sips, barely being able to hold the glass, you it grasp with two hands, this cant be happening, it cant be him?

You had told Morgan a few months ago you'd been getting strange notes under your door at home, love notes along with a bouquet of red roses with a black ribbon nearly ever other day at work, at first you were flattered if not a little creeped out, Pen and Emily immediately started the 100 questions of who this guy was and how many dates we went on, but you played it off, after a while of sneaking them into the garbage you had told reception to stop bringing them through, as the attention was getting a bit much particularly from the team teasing about dating someone, and why they knew nothing about him, and he clearly likes you, this seems to really bother Hotch who you noticed would avoid the pit when you didn't get in early enough to remove them, but then they started appearing at home instead, you had tried to play it off and believed they would eventually lose interest, Reid had mentioned how he got gifts from victims we saved when they projected feelings on to us so you supposed this was a likely explanation. But as time went on you thought best to ask for some advise, once Morgan knew he got Penelope to see if she could find who it was, nothing, this guy was a ghost, Morgan even came home with you a few times to check everything over and had a rather heated discussion with the building manager about letting people through the building who didn't live here, the letters became increasingly graphic about your 'relationship' but a few weeks ago everything stopped, that was until Monday morning on your way out the front door of your apartment a red rose with a black ribbon lay on the ground next to a note saying 'we will be together soon', you hadn't yet told Morgan about this new development and weren't sure when it would need to come up again, surely it was nothing.

when you saw the rose at the crime scene everything had gone dark in your mind, this was no coincidence, this was your stalker! Were these girls dying because of you?

Morgan rushes through and grabs your arm forcing you to look at him almost making you drop the glass

"you need to tell him sweetness, this unsub is after you" taking the glass from your hands and resting it on the counter top

"we don't know that for sure, and you know the moment I do I will be off this case, I am much more useful to you helping the team"

"come on Y/N, the rose, you saw it, he's not been active for a while, has he been in touch again?"

you look at the floor contemplating how you should tell him, Morgan sighs and takes your face in his hands forcing you to look at him

"when?"

"Monday morning"

He drops his hands and panic filling his eyes and takes a deep breath

"Y/N you should've told me!! don't you get it? you are in danger"

"why is Y/N in danger?" A deep rumble seems to come from Hotch's chest, you both freeze and hold your breath as you turn and both see Hotch standing looking straight at Morgan, shock and pain all over his face

"its nothing I-" you begin but Hotch raises his hand to quiet you

"I was asking Derek, so will you finally tell me what is going on?"

It felt like hours past but it must've been a few seconds, you pleaded with Morgan in your mind to not make this a big deal, once he knows, everything will change, you will be a victim to your team.

"She's being stalked, and I believe the stalker might be our unsub, I think she's who he's actually after"

The air seems to leave the room, it was true, you thought the same you just didn't want to believe it, you were the intended victim, you were the reason these girls, these beautiful young women with their whole lives ahead of them, were murdered, because you caught this sick bastards eye. Your eyes begin to brim with traitorous tears as you fight them back.

Hotch looks at you for a while his face moving from broken, to full of rage, to completely calm in a split second, was he mad at you? did he blame you too? At that moment his phone begins to ring in his pocket, he takes a breath and reached in his pocket and turns away from you and Morgan to answer, Morgan turns to you and wraps his arm around you mouthing 'am sorry baby girl' as he kisses your forehead, you feel the tears fall down your face and wipe them away quickly. Hotch turns back to you both still holding the phone to his ear

"they've found another victim, up town"

Part 2 to follow

#aaron hotchner #bau reader #aaron hotch x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #thriller #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #one shot #criminal minds

86 notes · View notes

guiltyasreid · 8 months ago

Text

so high school l spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings/tags: non, fluff, fem!reader, there's one use of 'lady' but other than that its gn, bau!reader (kinda) qord count: 1625 a/n: i legit cannot stop listening to so high school by ts so this is what my brain has pooped out, i've written two based on ttpd but I'm not happy with the other one yet. lmk what you think :))))

Sometimes when you looked at Spencer Reid, you thought how did this man ever look twice at you. How did he ask you of all people out on a date? Everytime he looked at you, you felt as though you were in some k drama and the blossom trees were going to start shedding their petals, as you wandered down the street hand in hand, music would start playing as he gazed at you with those honey brown eyes.

Of course that never happened, it didn't stop you from going red every time he looked at you. He made you feel like you had a schoolgirl crush on him. Blushing, giggling, kicking your feet and talking to your friends about him. Making up code names so he'd never know you were talking about him. Letting them know every small thing he did because he made your heart stop.

It could be him holding the door for you as you walked into the bullpen, or holding out a hand for you as you both stepped off the jet, or how he'd let you lean on his shoulder on the jet while you slept, his hands running through your hair, not caring if anyone was watching him or seeing the interaction, it always made them smile.

He felt like Prince Charming to your Cinderella.

You weren't always so infatuated by him that it caused your brain to break. Most of the time, being with him felt like a breath of fresh air. A calm would come over you where you both could sit in each others arms while doing your own thing.

Then there were times like these.

It was a small abrupt gathering, JJ had already walked down the aisle. Everyone was mingling, drinks were pouring. Penelope had caught your arm before you could make your way inside. "I want a dance."

Who were you to ever deny Penelope?

You both span in obnoxious circles, laughing with your head thrown back as you twirled her out and pulled her back in. Both of you swayed to the lighter music together. "187 is looking at you as if you placed the moon in the sky." She whispered.

Your head turned to look in Spencer's direction. His eyes were soft trailing up you as you swayed. He was in a conversation with Derek but his eyes weren't moving from you. Finally, he landed on your eyes and you looked away red, hiding your face from him.

"You both make me jealous." Penelope giggled. "Why are you blushing? He's already your boyfriend."

"I don't know." You whispered back as if you were telling her a secret. She shook her head smiling. "He's so handsome, I can't help it."

"And you are gorgeous, don't you forget it." She raised an eyebrow at you, you nodded. "Now I won't apologise. Just letting you know." Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Suddenly, the women twirled you out, letting go of your hand, and causing you to stumble into familiar arms. "Caught you." He whispered causing you to let out a laugh.

"Thank you." You weren't meeting his eyes as you both swayed. His right hand was placed at your waist, pulling you flush against him. You placed your forehead against his shoulder, giggling under the twinkling lights.

"What's so funny?" He asked, tilting his head down to nudge yours. You shook your head, not wanting to meet his eye.

His hand slid from the side of your waist to your back, causing you to squeak. His hand that was holding yours, started entwining your fingers together. "You look beautiful." He mumbled into your hair.

"You do too." You whispered back, your arm pulling him closer, you looked up at him, seeing him staring down at you. "Dr Reid, don't look at me like that." You laughed, leaning back down to hide your face as it grew warm.

"How could I not? You're my pretty lady" He kissed the side of your head. "And that dress looks magnificent on you." He whispered. You roll your eyes, laughing as he twirls you out and pulls you flush again.

Finally, you were looking at him, wide smiled at his antics. "You've bewitched me, every time I look at you, I turn to mush."

"You do?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "What do you think you do to me? I've never felt speechless before I met you. My brain stops running, you're my kryptonite." You kissed his cheek at the comment. "Would you like to go home?"

You looked around the room, the party seemed to be finally dying down, Henry was already asleep over two chairs. Hotch was holding a sleeping Jack in his arms, he was saying his goodbyes. You nodded at Spencer who smiled.

Goodbyes didn't take long. Spencer didn't hesitate to grab your hand as you walked towards his car. You shivered at the cold. He opened the car door for you before rushing around to the driver's seat. You blushed again at the small gesture. He smiled at your flushed face as he entered the car.

Spencer Reid was the epitome of a walking daydream.

You'd lay your head in his lap as you watched an episode of Doctor Who, he played with your hair absently. "What you thinking about?" He'd ask.

"About how we met." You replied.

"And how did we meet?" He asked with a small smile.

"Mr Eidetic memory doesn't remember?" You asked sarcastically and he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Jog my memory." He whispered.

"Well it was my first day-"

"Thursday June 6th 2007" He added. You scowled at him.

"Am I telling the story or you?" You asked huffing and he chuckled before becoming quiet to continue. "Anyway, it was my first day...

You stood outside the lift, biting your lip anxiously. The BAU, it was a bigger promotion than you were imagining when they said you'd be promoted. Of course, you had the qualifications for it, you knew you deserved it but there was still the small part of your brain that was telling you that you were in the wrong place.

As you entered the lift and clicked 6 the doors started shutting only for an arm to stop them before they fully shut. It caused a slight bang, in entered Dr Spencer Reid who was red-faced, hair nearly up to his shoulders. He saw your face going more red.

He was dressed in a white button up shirt, a brown vest, and a tie to match. Black slacks that when he turned you forced yourself not to check him out.

"You definitely checked me out." He cut off your story. "No way you didn't take a peak at my ass." You rolled your eyes smacking his arm. "Okay go on."

You definitely took a peak but you forced yourself to stare at the back of his head instead. His hair was curly and honey coloured as if he'd gotten highlights, but you could tell it was natural.

Hotch introduced you to everyone quickly. Spencer continued to pretend you did not exist throughout the entire case, you were 100% sure he hated you for some reason, maybe it was the cheeky peak at his ass. Maybe, he had eyes at the back of his head in that lift and saw you being a pervert.

"Okay, let me tell you what actually happened, because you are definitely telling it wrong." You laughed at his offence at what you were saying.

Spencer stopped the lift before it could close fully, he was red in the face from the embarrassing noise the lift made. It only got worse when he saw you in the lift. You looked like you'd just witnessed a comedy show.

"I did not, I'm pretty sure I was too anxious to laugh at you." You scoffed at his lies. He shushed you to continue.

He only caught a glimpse of you as he turned into the lift, he could tell you were beautiful, his heart was raising from that little interaction and it was as if he could feel your gaze on him which made the entire interaction even more embarrassing.

Hotch introduced you into the team. He knew if he tried to speak to you it would probably sound like a bunch of word vomit. You were magnificent, it was as if every time you looked at him every cell in his body stood in anticipation waiting for your next move. The subconscious part of his mind thought you were thinking about how embarrassing it was in the lift.

You were brilliant, smart, talented, a mean shot with a gun, they had their own sniper if needed, and you thought in ways no one did. You were a breath of fresh air onto the team, not to mention your smiles and silly jokes you'd make to try to get a reaction out of him. Derek would flirt with you and you always insulted him back which made him extremely nervous to even try.

Then, you started complimenting his outfits, listening to him intensely, never telling him to stop talking. You'd find his jokes funny, throwing your head back as if they were the funniest thing you'd ever heard. You even brought him of coffee just how he liked it. He knew if he asked, it could ruin everything. You could destroy him in one word. But, you didn't, you jumped at the opportunity to go on a date with him.

"You know I waited for months." You rolled your eyes. he was looking down at you with fond eyes. "Took your sweet time."

"Well I've got you now, and I'm not letting you go." He smiled, leaning down to kiss your lips.

"Neither am I." You giggled, leaning up to deepen the kiss.

#spencer reid #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid fluff #Criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #Spencer reid x you #Fluffiest #Spencer reid x y/n #mgg #Spencer reid x fem reader #taylor swift #so high school #Penelope garcia #bau reader

786 notes · View notes

marvelwitchergilmore · 8 months ago

Text

Together

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> The team knows something is up between yourself and Hotch, except Rossi seems to be the only one to put the pieces together.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of sick. Fluff. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The whole team knew something was up. They just didn’t know what.

Usually, you were normal with everyone. Chatty. Smiley. Professional. Maybe a little blunt every now and again.

But not this time.

For the last week you had been…cold. Well, not with them, at least.

But with Hotch? You had been as cold as ice.

But no-one could pin why.

Even if it had just been small things, like the feeling in the meeting room in the morning when it just seemed to be the two of you, or the small looks you both gave each other – which had started out as awkward, but then quickly turned to shame and clear annoyance, the latter being much more clear on your end. It was definitely clear now.

From the beginning of the case, you had been quick to change subjects. Always staying on the case, which was normal. But not your abruptness to do so. And when Hotch tried to pull you aside as the others made their way to the main doors, you brushed him off.

Hotch was someone you never brushed off. Not until recently.

And when you all landed in Seattle, Hotch was assigning teams for who was driving. But before he could place you with himself, JJ and Morgan, you pushed past him.

“I’m going with Rossi.”

And Hotch didn’t say a word.

Instead, he watched you walk away with your go bag, throwing it into the trunk with Dave. He gave his orders to Prentiss on what would happen and she updated you in the car.

However, forty five minutes into a ninety minute drive, Emily’s voice started to make you feel dizzy. Then the heat in the car felt like it was blasting. So you rolled down the window. But that didn’t help.

“Garcia said she’s already sent over some case files- Hey, you okay?”

From the backseat, Emily leaned forward to get a better look at you.

“I’m fine.”

But five minutes later, you changed your mind.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Okay, okay. Just hold on.”

The car had barely been put into park by the time you threw the door open, tore your seatbelt away and ran out.

Less than ten feet from the open car door, the last three drinks and meal you ate came straight back up and soaked into the dry grass.

You heard a second car pull up behind and then heard Morgan and Hotch’s voice. Dave had already reached you, placing a hand on your back before pulling your hair back.

“Okay, take it easy. Are you okay?”

You could only hum before throwing up once more. He rubbed circles on your back for a moment before you finally finished throwing up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Is she okay? Y/n, are you-”

“I’m fine!” You called out, a little harsher than you had intended.

Holding out a hand, Rossi signalled for Hotch to stop and stay where he was with the others.

“She’s okay, she just needs a minute. Emily, do we have water in the car?”

“Yep, here.”

Making her way over, Emily poured some water onto a tissue before handing it to you. You wiped down your mouth and your hand before being handed the bottle by Dave.

“Small sips, okay? Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, your back still to the rest of the team. “I just need a minute.”

“Aaron, we’ll meet you there.”

It took him a minute before he moved back to the car, but Hotch eventually nodded, calling out they’d see them at the precinct.

“Do you know what it could be?” Emily asked.

“Probably just some bad sushi.”

Emily nodded before getting back into the car.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Rossi asked once she was out of earshot.

And for a moment, you paused.

“Let’s just get going.”

Things only seemed to get worse from there.

You managed to hide it as best as you could from the rest of the team, but every hour you had spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom throwing your guts up.

A couple of officers did question where you had been when they couldn’t find you but hadn’t seen you leave the building. One mention of Aunt Flow and they didn’t ask again.

Your coldness with Hotch didn’t ease, either. It just seemed to become more frigid. And everyone saw it.

By the third day in Seattle, Prentiss and Morgan had questioned you on it in the break room.

“Yeah, what do you have against Hotch all of a sudden? What, one week away from us and you’ve suddenly made an agenda against him?”

“Because I love you, I’m going to ask this only once. Please don’t ask about Hotch.”

Morgan and Prentiss looked between each other, slightly worriedly, but both silently agreed to drop it.

“But you will sort it out?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know.”

A few hours later, you were coming back out of the bathroom when Rossi seemed to jump out at you.

“Jeez. Rossi. Give a girl some warning next time.”

Dave smiled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Have we caught a break?”

“No, but I need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“About the fact you’re running to the bathroom every hour to throw up.”

“Like I said, it was probably just some bad food. I’ll be okay.”

Only, as you started walking away, Rossi asked you a question.

“What happened between you and Hotch?”

“Nothing.” You answered, your back still to him.

“Really? Because I wouldn’t call it nothing. I’d call it strange.”

“Rossi, I’ve asked Morgan and Prentiss-”

“I know, and I heard. But, to be frank, I think you’re lying and you’re too scared to tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?”

But rather than voice it, Rossi just gave you a look. It took you a moment before you cracked a little.

“Rossi…”

“You don’t have to tell me how or what happened, but I’m asking, just find out the truth. You don’t have to tell anyone. But I think the sooner you do it, the better it will be.”

“We’re in the middle of a case.”

Rossi shrugged, “Morgan and JJ are on their way back. Reid’s got it handled here. We’ll pick up some coffee on the way back as a cover. Let’s just go now.”

You seemed to hesitate, and Rossi could see it.

“Please, for my sanity's sake?”

“Okay.”

Twenty minutes later, you found a pharmacy and picked up a box.

“Can you wait outside the door for me?”

“Of course.”

And he did.

Once you paid for the box, the cashier directed you to a bathroom in the back. Except, long after the two minutes were up, you still hadn’t come out. So, Rossi knocked on the door.

You swung it open and he jumped back a little.

“I can’t look at it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to at some point.”

“I’ve wiped it down and it’s got a cap but…can you look? I’m too scared.”

Rossi could see the fear in your eyes. Oh, how two little lines could instil so much fear into people who dealt with crime every day.

Handing the package to Rossi, he turned it around and pulled it out of the packet.

“I believe congratulations are in order.”

Turning it around so you could see, you took it back into your grasp as you pushed one hand through your hair.

“Oh, my god.”

“I think you and Hotch need to have a conversation.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

Rossi smiled, holding your hand which he could feel shaking. “You have my word.”

Somehow, back in the precinct, you managed to keep your cool. You’d brought back coffee for the team and, despite the fact you caught Hotch watching you from his seat, noticing your shaking hand, you pulled it back and found a spare pen from JJ’s notepad and spun it over and over in your fingers.

Thankfully, due to the “food poisoning”, you had been kept out of the field when it came to finding the unsub. However, this just gave you a very large sense of dread. You watched them all run out of the door, Rossi placing a hand on your arm talking directly to you.

“I’ll look out for him.” He told you before the others could hear him.

“Thank you.”

Possibly carrying Hotch’s child made watching him and the team run out of the door, without you, made that sense of dread practically triple. Especially considering no-one other than Rossi knew the truth, or at least a part of it, about yourself and Aaron.

Thankfully, no-one got hurt and the unsub was apprehended in time before he could hurt anyone else. They all came back with looks of relief and tiredness when you saw them, but there was a barely visible look of confusion and perhaps, hopefulness, on Hotch’s face when your scowl at him didn’t seem so cold.

On the plane ride back, you were quiet. Everyone was, but there was just an air about you that told those paying attention to you that you were in your own world.

Of course, Rossi knew why.

But it was tearing at Hotch why he didn’t.

Pulling back into the office, Penelope greeted you all by the elevator, hugging you all. And handing you some dry crackers and a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Garcia.”

As everyone said their goodnights, you watched as Hotch walked directly through the bullpen and towards his office.

“I think there are a couple of things you and he need to talk about.”

You nodded, with a light smile. “You’re right.”

Rossi kissed you cheek before saying goodnight and saluting you before the elevator doors closed. You did a small one back before turning your gaze back to the dim lights coming from Hotch’s office.

However, first, you ran to the bathroom.

Sitting at his desk, Hotch was halfway finished with the last of his reports when a knock came to his door.

Looking up from his desk, there was a slight look on his face that told you he wasn’t expecting you. And you couldn’t be surprised. You’d barely been able to look him in the eye for the last month and a half, and you’d been nothing but cold and if a little harsh with him for the last couple of weeks.

“Is everything okay?”

“Can we talk?”

Hotch nodded. “Come on in.”

You nodded back, entering, but closing the door behind you. Which made Hotch stand.

“Is everything-”

“I’m pregnant.”

A silence settled over the room that you were expecting, but still shocked you. And every possible emotion, some you couldn’t even name, passed over his face before he was forced to sit down.

“Oh.”

“Can I sit?”

He nodded, quickly signalling for you to do so. And so you did.

“What did…How- When did you find out?”

“Sometime in the last twenty four hours.” You answered which confused Hotch, which you could understand. It was a vague explanation. “It’s all been kind of a blur.”

He nodded, understanding what you meant.

“Does anyone…know?”

You nodded. “Rossi.”

“Dave knows?”

“He seemed to know before I did…kinda.”

“What does that mean?”

“I guess I had a feeling when I got carsick, but denial carried me through.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “No. Oh, and, um, I-I took another test to be sure. H-here.”

With a lot of nerves and a lot of awkward courage, you passed the second test across the desk to Hotch who took it in his hands and looked at it.

Two bright pink lines.

Positive test.

“Just so I’m…clear. You are telling me because I’m…”

“The father?” you questioned. “Yes. There wasn’t anyone before or after you for it to be someone else.”

Hotch nodded. “Okay.”

You both sat in silence for a while, taking in what had just happened.

“I, well, I haven’t been to see a doctor yet so I can’t know for certain but these tests are usually pretty accurate.”

Hotch could only nod.

“You’re free to make any decision you wish,” Hotch assured you. “I’ll support you either way.”

You nodded in a small thank you. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do. With our line of work, it gives you the handbook over why you shouldn’t have children. But, if I do decide to do this…I’m prepared to do this on my own. If I am going to do it, I’d prefer to have you in their life.”

Your hand absentmindedly touched your stomach and you looked down to it for a moment.

“But, I’m prepared to do it on my own.”

Hotch took in everything you said and nodded. “Like I said, I’ll support any decision you make but if you do decide to have our child…”

Those two words settled over the both of you.

Our Child.

“One thing you don’t have to worry about is doing it alone. I want to be a part of their life. And whatever support you need, I’ll try and help with.”

You nodded before looking back down to your stomach.

Once again, a silence settled over the both of you and it was like he could hear your brain going into overload with information and feelings. But just as he was about to call your name, you looked up.

Tears were being held tight behind your eyes, but a few words and they were ready to fall free.

“I’m…I’m scared, Aaron.”

It didn’t take him a second thought before he stood up and met you where you were sitting. As he got around his desk, you stood and he embraced you tightly.

He swallowed thickly, nodding and placing a quick kiss to your hair. “It’ll be okay.”

A week later, the team had taken notice of the change between yourself and Hotch. It was no longer cold, but it wasn’t what it was. It was something…uneasy. You had both clearly had a tough talk and were on rocky shores, but you were both finding a way to make it work.

It was also a week later that you had made your decision.

You were going to have a baby.

A lot of different scenarios passed through your mind when you thought about what you were going to do. It would be hard, of course. It would be difficult to work the cases you do and not feel a little more emotionally involved. But you also couldn’t help but think that maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

A part of you had wanted children for a long time, but the thought of actually having them was slipping further and further away the more you worked.

And, despite you feeling selfish, you wanted a baby. You wanted to see a child, your child, grow up and have a life of their own. You wanted to make the memories you had as a kid, but with them.

You knew it would be difficult to do so when you joined the Academy, but part of you always wanted a home filled with the sound of laughter and joy.

And maybe this was your only chance.

And in all honesty, Aaron had similar feelings.

It would be hard, sure. But he also wanted this in his life. He wanted a child. He wanted you in his life, however that would be.

Of course, neither of you had seen this coming when you had run into each other at the Inn you had found. A halfway stop to your actual destination. Only, rather than continuing on your separate journeys for your week’s vacation time, you both found yourselves unable to leave the small town and the safe walls of the local Inn.

It was that part of the story the team would forever speculate on once they found out you were pregnant and it was, in fact, Hotch’s baby.

That was a piece of information they clued together themselves when Hotch called them in for an early meeting, but had confirmation on just a few moments later.

“So, what’s happening here?”

“Are you together?”

“We’re…still figuring that out.” Hotch answered, looking at you.

Neither of you had exactly had the conversation over what you were. Were you a couple? Were you friends? Were you co-workers? Were you just co-workers having a baby together?

HR weren’t exactly happy about the get-together but so long as the relationship wasn’t going to break any codes of conduct within the field, you were both still free to keep working. And more importantly, working together.

However, over the next nine months, certain things seemed to blur.

Aaron came with you to every doctor’s appointment, never missing one. When you had both first heard your baby’s heartbeat, you had clutched onto his hand and not let go. And when the sound got clearer, he pulled you a little closer, rubbing your arm and kissing your hand.

It was a little odd, feeling the baby kick for the first time whilst being stood outside of a crime scene.

Morgan had been with you at the time, quickly calling for Hotch when your posture and face changed from quizzical to concerned. Only, by the time Aaron had reached you both, you laughed and told them what was happening.

Morgan then called JJ over as you guided Aaron’s hand to your stomach. And you both shared an intimate moment, just looking at one another, feeling your unborn baby kick at your stomach for the first time.

JJ was able to confirm what was going on and both herself and Morgan congratulated you before you all remembered where you were and got back to work.

The cold glares you had given Hotch in the weeks leading up to you finding out had disappeared completely after the hug you shared in his office when you told him. And by the time you were entering your second trimester, they had turned into something similar to what they were before everything had changed.

You had both become friends.

He had also relaxed a little more around you, which allowed him space to take in what was actually happening. So, when your cravings started kicking in, he would hand you snacks throughout the days. You wouldn’t even know what you wanted at the time and he just…seemed to know.

And at some point between him attending doctors appointments, helping you with your pregnancy cravings and reading to your belly, you had both begun to live together.

It made sense, at least for the first couple of weeks after the birth and partly during the pregnancy. If you went into labour, it would be safer if someone was with you. And, it meant he was there when, in the middle of the night, you woke up with braxton hicks and panicked a little before getting checked out at the hospital, just in case.

Also, small touches began.

From you holding his hand against your stomach when your baby kicked, to his fingers tracing yours whilst they held that position. Then, in break rooms. They were quick, but light kisses would be pressed to your head or cheek whenever he handed you something. He was always close to you, barely leaving your side when in the field. His hand, always at the small of your back when leading you somewhere. And in the early hours of the morning, his arms would be across you as you both lay in bed, holding you close against his chest.

Until, finally, one night whilst lay in bed, you asked a question.

Both facing each other, despite your eyes being closed, Aaron traced repeated patterns from pushing your hair back to trailing his fingers down your arm to find your hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

Both of you should be fast asleep, yet you weren’t.

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“What are we doing?”

“Sleeping.”

You laughed a little. “No we’re not.”

“I’m sleep talking.”

“Aaron, I’m being serious.”

With a small laugh, Aaron sighed. “Okay, what is it?”

He finally opened his eyes and so did you.

“What are we doing? About us, I mean. We’re having a baby together, but we’re not together together. We work together, but we also live together. What happens after the first couple of months? Do we…what do we do?”

“I suppose we just have to take each day as it comes and see what happens.”

“I can live with that.”

“Or…”

“Oh, no.”

Aaron laughed a little and shook his head, bringing his hand back to your face and brushing the hair from it.

“Or,” he repeated, “we treat this for what it really is.”

“I don’t…” you shook your head.

“I know I don’t regret what happened that week away. Even more so now, but before…before we both found out. I still didn’t regret it. I don’t. We say we live together out of convenience, but I know, at least for me, it’s something more. Now, if for you it’s still out of convenience and bonding for our child, then we can have this conversation when the time comes. But, you should know my feelings for you run deeper than just you being my co-worker and the mother of our child. Do you…could you see yourself…feeling the same?”

The silence that came over both of you for a moment made Aaron worry. Maybe he had gotten it wrong in his head. Maybe you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you were just caught up in the emotions of carrying his child and, since you were in it together, some form of feelings, similar to that of his, were getting blurry.

But then you blinked.

And a light smile graced across your face.

“I do.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. But still, your words echoed louder and louder around his head.

“You…you do?”

You nodded. “I do.”

Aaron took a moment, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was like your first, all over again. Except, this time, rather than a little fear being behind it, considering at the time you were both still co-workers just on vacation, there was nothing but…

Relief.

More specifically, relief for love.

For months you’d both been avoiding the biggest barrier between both of you. Too scared and too fearful that the answer to each question would be some variant of “No.”

And now…

Finally the answer was yes.

Yes to love.

Together.

Yes to a life.

Together.

Yes to a family.

Together.

884 notes · View notes

l0v3-qu4rtz · 8 months ago

Text

Cat and Mouse

Summary: you've been chasing Spencer for months and finally caught him.

Pairing: Unsub!Reid x BAU!Reader

Warning: One use of Y/N, mention of serial murder, heavy cursing, weapons and use of them, blood, kissing, small make out session, heavy romantic tension, dark romance, UNSUB REID !!! Proofread with love by me, my best friend, and boyfriend <3

Word Count: 3.7K (holy moly)

A/N: This took a whole month and a half to write. It was mainly just procrastination and my lack of commitment to things. Anyway, I hope you guys like this, it took a lot of work <3

Spencer Reid is a criminal, a serial one at that. The FBI has been investigating him for months but everytime he surprises them and goes completely against the profile. He kills dead-beat fathers who abandoned their families. He thinks they're nothing but pigs who are cowards, abandoning their families when they really need them. He's been able to outsmart the FBI for months but not this time. You were completely obsessed with the Reid case, investigating every piece of evidence to the smallest atom. Hunting him every chance you got, every tip, every body, every city, you were there to try and catch him. Unfortunately, every time you failed but not this time. You were on a case in Columbus, Ohio when the police station received a call about a suspicious man in a motel. The description matching the Spencer Reid, you jumped in excitement and rushed to your Federal car. You instructed the police to park across the road and wait for a signal to come in. You waited in an empty motel next to his room, waiting for any sign of movement. Once you heard footsteps, you quietly snuck out and stopped the door before it shut fully. Your footsteps were soft despite your racing heart beat, you finally saw the curly hair you've been longing to see for what felt like ages.

The sound of your gun cocking and fills the room, the air instantly becoming heavy and tense. He lets out a single chuckle. "Finally, Agent L/N." He says with a smirk, his back still facing you. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever gonna catch me." He teases, he was sort of expecting you.

"Spencer Reid, put your hands where I can see them and turn around" You command before adding, "Slowly." You said slowly, your eyes glued to his every movement with a firm grip on your gun.

He lifts his hands in the air and begins slowly turning towards you, your heart beating out of your chest as you finally make eye contact with the killer you've been engrossed in. He has a wide smirk on his face as he finally gets a good look at you, "Is that any way to greet an old friend ?" He teases as he slowly takes a step towards you, not even remotely threatened by you holding a gun right towards his chest. "I'm actually quite glad you're here, but-" He glances down at your gun and the firm grip you have on it, "we both know that wont do you any good here." He looks back up to make eye contact with you.

You take a step back as he takes a step forward, your whole body tense and your grip only growing tighter on the gun, "Shut up, and don't take another step or I'll shoot !" You threaten, the smirk on his face only growing wider and wider til he becomes a cheshire cat like smile.

He chuckles at your response, amused by your empty threats and tense posture. He takes another step forward as your back hits the wall. "You and I both know you won't shoot me, darling" He mocks you and slowly lets his arms collapse to his sides, "You had so many opportunities and you never seized them." He looks down at you, amused by the height difference. You were like a little puppy to him.

You lunge forward and push the barrel into the bottom of his chin, effectively putting distance between you and him from fully pinning you to the wall. "This time is different." You say, quietly and bitterly.

Spencer pushes and leans forward, his face only inches away from yours. "Oh, is it now ?'' His voice is low and teasing. "you've been saying that for years and look where we are" He chuckles before leaning in closer to your ear "You can't bring yourself to do it. You love this little game we play."

Your gun is pressed firmly against the bottom of his chin as he leans closer, "you're nothing but a big pile of unfinished work." You spit out, your voice is bitter and callous.

Spencer gasps and puts his hand on his chest, fauxing offense. "Oh, how you wound me" He mocks and puts his hands in his pockets, still leaning in. "And here I thought our game actually meant something to you" He chuckles and adds "We both know the truth, princess. You can deny it all you want, but I know you love our game"

You quickly bring your leg up and give him one kick to his stomach, causing him to back up from you. You aim your gun and shoot a warning shot near him on the ground. "The only game i'm interested in playing is the one where you're behind bars" You aim your gun at his head. Your voice matches your face, stern and serious. Spencer's cheshire smile turns into a look of amusual at the sharp boom of your bullets.

He raises an eyebrow and looks around, putting his hand out in mock surrender. "Come on, darling, there's no need for the violence" His voice is dripping with sarcasm as his gaze returns to you. "You can never put me behind bars. All your other attempts have been futile." He laughs bitterly and shoves his hands in his pockets again.

You scoff at his almost narcissistic confidence, "I'll do anything I can to make sure you rot in prison like the piece of trash you are." Your voice radiating venom as you speak, poison dripping out of your lips.

Spencer smiles and laughs at your threat, taking a small step towards you. "Wow ! You've got a fire in you today !" He teases "I always knew you were feisty, but this is a new record" He laughs as his eyes focus from your gun to your face. He smirks at the determined look in your eyes.

You take a side step so you aren't up against the wall anymore. Your gun is still aimed and your grip is still firm. "You're a pig." You throw insults to try and shatter his ego.

He turns his body and smiles at the insult, his demeanor still nonchalant and relaxed. "A pig ? Wow how original, princess." He chuckles darkly, taking small slow strides towards you. "You can call me whatever you want, baby" he pauses and looks down at the floor for a second. "But you can't hide the fact that you're attracted to me." He finally says what's been on his mind the whole time he's known you.

You scrunch your face and shoot off another warning shot, this one blasting right past Spencer's face and grazing his ear. Burning at the flesh of his earlobes, making his crimson red blossom. "You're so full of yourself, classic narcissist" You say and laugh sarcastically as he brings his hand up and lightly touches his bloody earlobe.

His face twitches as the bullet burns his ear. He smiles, assumed by the sudden blood. He rolls his eyes at your comment and continues walking his long lanky legs over to you. His grin widening with each step. "Your confidence is bullshit. You think killing fathers who do wrong makes you so righteous, when in reality you're just as bad as they are." You spit angrily at him.

He raises his eyebrows and laughs darkly. "Oh now you're tryna lecture me on morality ? That's quite rich coming from a federal agent who's been hunting me for months." He retorts and steps even closer "Your hands are just as dirty as mine" he smirks, pulling his hands out and making sarcastic jazz hands.

You flash him a fake smile, "at least I can wash mine by saving people and putting pieces of shit like you in prison." Your voice slowly raises as you continue to spit insults at him. You snarl, scrunching your face in disgust as he leans closer and closer.

He snorts slightly, ”Your typical hero complex” He steps closer, the height difference making him tower over you more and more with every step closer. “Let's be real, here darling. You love chasing me around like a lost little puppy. You don't actually want to see me in prison because that means you lose your favorite game” He mocks you and laughs darkly.

You push your barrel into his chest, your grip tightens as he gets closer and closer. Your breath is shallow and rough. “Self projection, much ?” You respond, your tone sarcastic and disgusted, “Me putting you in prison means I win. It's not your place to get rid of bad people '' Your tone is firm as if you're getting on to a child who did something wrong.

Spencer laughs, amused by the banter filling the lone apartment. “Winning ?” He asks rhetorically “You really think you're going to win ? That you can just lock me up and put me in the past ?” He leans in and smiles, looking deep in your eyes. The gun pushed itself deeper in his chest. “You're forgetting the most important part, lovely. You've been trying to catch me for years and you've failed. What makes you think this time is any different ?” He asks, teasingly.

You gulp and try to calm your nerves by reminding yourself that a whole police squad is outside. “I've never had a gun pointed directly at your heart until now” You threaten.

“Ah yes, the almighty gun” Spencer chuckles at your mention of the gun. “You really think that's gonna stop me ? You can point a thousand guns up to my head and yet-” He raises his arms up, “Id still be alive and well.” He mocks the way your confidence hinges on a single weapon. “You don't have the guts to pull that trigger” He challenges.

“I have twice now, nothing is stopping me from doing it” You say with confidence, referring back to the warning shots.

Spencers entertained by your confidence and laughs. “ Act tough all you want, baby. We both know that deep down in that burning center of yours...” he softly points in between your breasts and laughs at your flinch. “You don't actually want to see me dead, baby. You're addicted to this little game we play” He leans closer to you, his face mere inches away from yours “You're addicted to me” He whispers softly.

You breathe hitches at his closeness. “I hate scumbags like you” You seethe.

Spencer smiles calmly, unphased by your hard head demeanor. “There it is, your usual insults. Ya know that gets tiring after a while, baby” He smiles at the way your ears flush at the contrast of his name calling versus yours. “You're just in denial about your true feelings.”

With one swift swipe, you bring your gun up and pistol whip him. He grunts in pain as the butt of your gun makes contact with his forehead and he stumbles backward. You quickly back up more and aim your gun back at him. Spencer lays his head on the wound, blood trickling down and filling his palm. Even with a gash in his head, he still looks up at you with a mischievous smirk.

“You could've asked nicely if you wanted to hit me, darling” He wipes away the blood and puts his hands in the air again. His cockness and nonchalant behavior only makes you more pissed off.

“The only reason I haven't killed you is because I wanna be able to watch as you age in prison and become a sad shell of a person.” You spit, hoping to crack his pride even just a little bit.

Yet, somehow all your threats only succeed to make him even more cocky. He chuckles for the millionth time. “Ah, of course...” He begins, his tone sprinkles with fondness. “The classic watch your enemy rot in prison tactics.” He takes a sharp breath in through his teeth. “It's not exactly original but i'll give you points for effort” He shrugs as he mocks all your attempts to break his image.

“You're a bitch” You spit through gritted teeth as a weak attempt to break him down as much as you possibly can.

He only laughs at your poor attempt, not in the slightest deterred by your repeated jabs. “Such harsh language, lovely” He takes a step forward, frankly you're amazed how determined he is to get so close to you. After pushing him away countless times, he still yearns to be close to you. You find this slightly enduring but you quickly push that feeling away. “But let me ask you something” He begins, never looking away from your eyes.”Why do you keep pushing your love for me to the side ?” If you didn't know any better, you would've guessed he was hurt.

You scoff slightly, backing away again “I'm not in love with you” You clarify plainly.

Spencer continues to get closer to you, you're like a magnet to him. A drug he has to have on hand at all times. “Oh yea ?” He responds sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at your denial. “Deny, deny, deny it all you want” He says as if it's some matra, or a sick lullaby. “But actions speak louder than words.” He says lowly, his signature smirk falling off his face. His body is now close to yours, he lightly rests his hands on your hips and his fingers hide a spot in your pant belt hoops.``Your body language, your flushed ears, the way your breath hitches as I get close” He reads you like a book before reaching up and tilting your chin up with his pointer finger. “Admit it, You're already mine” He teases softly, his smirk slowly coming back to his face.

You quickly raise your hand to strike him across the face but he blocks it by grabbing your wrist. He shoves it against the wall above your head, grinning. “Ah ah ah, Naughty darling” He softly scolds you. “You need to learn how to play nice” His voice is teasing. He moves his body flush against yours and smiles. “We both know you like this no matter how much you struggle”

You reach your hand that's holding the gun to aim it at the bottom of his chin, but he also grabs that wrist. He slams that wrist against the wall next to you, knocking the gun of your hand. Your heart drops as you hear the gun fall on the carpet floor, leaving you helpless under his grip.

“That's better, lovely” His voice is low and smooth. “Now we can talk without you waving that gun all over me”

You struggle against the grip, your panting and your hair falls in your face. “Let me go !” You grunt.

Spencer chuckles at your feeble attempts, his grip tightening and earring a slight wince. “Don't struggle, lovely” He says, his tone bordering on mocking and reassuring. He pushes his body more against yours, pinning your whole body to the wall. “Relax, I won't hurt you… unless you ask me too” He winks.

Your breathing is labored and shallow. You met his eyes with hate. “Youre sick” You spit lowly.

Spencer continues to be amused by your attempts to defy him. He leans in closer, his face so close to yours. “Look at you. All worked up and out of breath. Your body is betraying your words” He teases as his eyes trail up and down your face. He smiles as he watches your face contorted with anger and stubbornness.

You jerk your neck and spit in his face. Your salvia landing under his left eyes and he narrows his eyes. His confidence mixes with anger but he doesnt let your wrist go, instead his grip tightens and pushes you harder into the wall.You yelp and whimper at the tight grip, sure it'll leave bruises. “You really know how to get under my skin, don't you ?” He growls as you try to push yourself into the wall to get as far as you can away from his touch.

“Let go !” You scream and try your best to wiggle out of his grip.

Spencer simply ignores your cries and pleads. He tightens his grip even further, causing you to wince. You feel your hands go numb as the blood stops circulating. You raise your gaze, your hands and see your hands have gone pale. “Ah ah ah, you're not going anywhere” His voice is smooth and authoritative. “I have you exactly where I want you” He chuckles, leaning close to your ear and his breath grazes your neck “And you're enjoying every second of this, aren't you ?” He teases.

“Fuck you” Your snarl through quick, exhausted breathes. You try to jut your foot and legs out to kick him but he quickly pins them to the wall with his knees. Keeping you completely trapped.

Spencer smirks at your defiant language and coos. “Such dirty profanity coming from those pretty lips of yours''. He pulls away from your ear and looks between your eyes down to your lips. “That hot-headed attitude of yours won't do you any good, and I bet you know that. You know you're all mine, whether you like it or not '' He says, his breath filling your nose with coffee and subtle mint.

“You don't own me” You softly claim, feeling as if your hands have been cut off and it's making you slightly dizzy.

Spencer laughs darkly as he notices how faint you are becoming. “But I do.” He counteracts your claim. “Even your body agrees with me. You're all mine” He smirks and leans closer. His eyes flicker to your lips then back your eyes.

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to regain your composure as much as you can. You slam your forehead against his, instantly regretting it as it makes you feel even dizzier. The center of your forehead throbs with pain. He winces but he doesn't let go, much to your disappointment. He grunts, feeling the pang in his forehead then he smirks. “There's my feisty girl, the one that I love. You really know how to keep me on my toes, angel” He presses his body impossibly close to yours, pinning you tightly against the wall.”But you know what they say about playing with fire…” He leans in close to your ear, dropping his voice to a deep whisper “It's only a matter of time before you get burned’

The side of your cheek is pressed against the wall, your head turned to avoid being too close to him. Your breath is quick and shallow, feeling completely defenseless and at the complete mercy of this serial killer who was responsible for the death of several men. You dig your top teeth into the skin just below your bottom lip as your brain searches for any possible way to regain control. “Okay ! Okay..” You begin, your voice is full of defeat as you surrender. “Maybe I like investigating you and chasing you down” You admit, still very angry and annoyed.

Spencer grins at your admission, his pupils filled with mirth. “That's better, angel. It's about time you admit it. You enjoy the chase as much as I do. You love tracking me down and constantly failing.” He chuckles and you turn your head to face him head on. Your brows are furrowed and every muscle of your face is filled with animosity. “But you know what I love most about our game ?” He asks rhetorically “Is the fact that you're just as obsessed with me as I am with you” He leans in closer and his nose lightly brushes against yours.

“You're a creep” You insult him softly, almost as if your breath is being pulled out of you as he gets closer and closer to you.

Spencer lets out a small puff of air, amused by your half-assed insult. He can sense the fact that your walls are beginning to crumble and fall. The change in your voice and the way you're out of breath fills him with amusement and a weird sense of hope. “Just give in, darling. Stop fighting it.” His voice is almost pleading and beckoning.

Without a second thought or a second to waste, you suddenly slam your lips onto his with searing passion. He's taken aback but quickly recovers, returning the action with just as much intensity. He finally releases your wrists, leaving a red and slightly purple band in its wake and moves his hands down to your sides. His fingers softly grip the just below your vest. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss and you feel the tip of his nose lightly caress your cheek. He feels your heart beating just below your chest just before he pulls away. “I knew you couldn't resist me” He mutters against your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your tongue inside his mouth. He moans at the feeling of your tastebuds against his own. His hands roam your body passionately, then he pulls away. He's slightly out of breath and he looks deep into your eyes with animalistic desire. “You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, love” He admits softly and wickedly.

Your lips stretch into a smile “And you have no idea how long i've waited for this.” You reach into your belt holster and pull out a taser. You push the taser into his abdomen, your finger gripping the button, sending several volts of electricity into his nerves. Spencer groans and his body convulses as he falls to the ground. You pull the collar of your shirt towards your mouth, finally giving the command for the officers to move in. You move down to your knees, placing one on his back. He doesn't struggle as you handcuff him, grunting more than resisting. “You really know how to spoil the moment, darling”

“Glad you think so.” You reply plainly through labored breathing. You secure the cuffs and stand up, watching cops take him away. He takes one last look at you, almost as if he was taking a mental picture of you in your current state. Messy hair, Smudged lipstick, disheveled clothes all make him wanna break free and tear you up. He smirks and lets out a single chuckle.

“This isn't over, love. Not by a long shot”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #i love spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #dr reid #unsub spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fic #dark romance #criminal minds fanfic #bau reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

231 notes · View notes