#behavioural analysis unit x reader

[magewritesstories]

[ SPENCER REID ] WHIPPED

cw. derek uses a little experiment to prove that the reader's whipped for spencer (fluff.) wc. 542

"YOU ARE SO WHIPPED," Derek says as the two of you stand in the tiny kichenette next to the bullpen.

You turn towards him and raise a brow, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh? So you weren't making heart eyes at pretty boy just now?" he counters, "Or when he was going on about Doctor Who this morning, or yesterday when he told you that dumb fact about the Mayans and their sun calander?"

"Again, I have no idea what you're talking about," you deny, reverting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.

Derek looks between you and Spencer before smirking. "Yeah? Let me give you a little explanation then."

He drags you over to Spencer's desk.

"Hey, pretty boy, Y/N and I were just talking about how horrible the coffee from the new coffee machine is," he said as the boy genius turned to them, "So she's going to that coffee shop down the street, you want anything?"

Spencer thought about it for a second, "Uh, no, I'm good actually."

"You sure, it's Y/N's treat?" Derek added in a sing-song.

"Uhm, I guess a glazed donut would be nice?"

You turn to Derek with a confused look on your face, which Spencer the Amazing Profiler somehow managed to miss.

Derek turns to you with a knowing smirk, "Give it a second—"

And just as those words leave his mouth Emily pipes up from next to JJ. "Oh, if you're going, get me a coffee?"

"I'd love a chocolate cookie," Penelope, who had come out of her batcave to hand over some reports to Hotch, adds excitedly, "You're going to that new coffee shop right? I could smell the deliciousness from a mile away."

Slowly but surely everyone in the bullpen piles onto it—all of them clearly not a fan of the new coffee machine either—and your teammate looks at you with a smirk.

"You want a notepad or?"

"Shut up."

The man lets out a bark of a laugh. "You'd have to dissapoint boy genius over there," he offered, before looking pointedly at Spencer who was now excitedly talking about the new café with Penelope, "But you could just not go."

You let out an annoyed huff as you looked at him too.

A full twenty minutes later you stood in front of Spencer's desk with a crumbled bag containing his favourite flavour of glazed donut (because of course I know what it is, Derek, I'm a good colleague), completely and utterly out of breath.

You'd just spent 15 minutes of your break running to and from the new café—in your brand new heels too— and then giving everybody their coffee and/or cookie.

"Thank you," the boy genius replied with a bright smile on his face, looking in the bag, "Oh, and you got my favourite flavour too, you're amazing!"

You just offer him a small, tired smile. "Of course, Spence, no problem."

On your way back to your desk, you walk into Derek, who's already leaning against his.

"Just couldn't stand dissapointing your pretty boy, huh?"

"I swear to all that is holy, Morgan, I will throw this scalding hot coffee on you."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so whipped."

"I hate you."

"W-H-I-P-P-E-D, whipped."

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3

sorry it’s so long! love your works!

Aaron Hotchner X Young Daughter reader

Request: can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3

I do love young Hotch daughter who is completely opposite to her dad. Around season 1, Hailey is alive and just had Jack.

Third person pov...

Hailey smiles as her Husband runs around after their hyperactive 2 year old, little Y/N Hotchner was a ball of sunshine and energy.

The 2 year old was excited she had a baby brother and loved to play with him, though she loved playing with her Daddy even more.

Currently the little ball of energy was running around the house away from her Dad who was attempting to put her in her clothes, she was going to work with him for the day.

The little girl was only half dressed as she ran before the man could put her trousers on, giggling she shouts "no daddy!" As the man almost grabs her, a smile on his face.

Still chasing the girl, surprised at how quick she was for a tot, though he wasn't running more like in slow motion, wanting the chase to last a little longer, it wasn't every day he got to do this with his daughter (besides he had time before work started)

From the living room, Hailey watches her Husband and daughter with a smile on her face as she held her sleeping baby, Jack was sound asleep as if nothing was happening.

As they make another loop around the house Aaron stops and hops into the doorway of the living room, back pressed against the wall, Hailey watches her husband as he made a shush motion.

"Daddy?" Calls Y/N as the tot ran past the room, a confused look on her face and she looked for her dad. Poking her head around the door she looked at her Mum. "Where daddy?" She asks a pout on her lips.

Hailey fails to hide her smile as her daughter was grabbed and thrown upside down, giggling madly Y/N yelled to be let down. "Daddy! Let go" giggling even more when her tummy was tickled.

"Never, now its time for naughty girls to be dressed" he tells his daughter smiling wickedly as he continues to tickle his daughter, the H/C girl only wiggled in his grasp.

"No no daddy, wanna wear princess dress" yells the tot, Aaron stops his attack and looks at his wife. Hailey only shrugs her shoudlers.

Ever since her birthday Y/N loved one gift in particular, it was a beautiful poofy princess dress her parents got specially made for her.

She loved wearing it every time they went out and was always careful to keep it clean. Hotch sighs of course she would want to wear it to his work.

Looking down at the sad puppy look hisbwas getting he gave in. Hanging his head he stood up Y/N in his arms.

"Okay, Princess dress it is" he declared, dramatically, while bouncing the little girl in his arms before walking upstairs with a happy Y/N "yayy" cheers the young girl.

Finally ready to go Hotch grabbed his brief case, his lunch and Y/N lunch. As he headed for the door he called for Y/N the little girl eagerly bouncing over to him as he helped her put on her light up shoes.

"Ready princess" he asks her, Y/N gives him a huge gumming smile. "Yes Sir Daddy!" She saluted him before hugging her Mum and baby brother before leaving. "Good luck" Hailey whispers as she kisses Aaron.

When they arrived at the FBI headquarters Hotch pulls his daughter aside. "Now N/N, I know your excited, but I need you to stay close to me today okay? The office is busy and I don't want you to get lost" he explains to the girl.

Y/N smiles and hugs his neck giggling. "Yes Daddy! I be good" she smiles, Hotch pats her head a smile on his lips. "Thank you N/N" the two Hotchners then walk into the busy building.

And what a pair they made, Hotch in his usual suit and red tie combo, his stoic expresson on his face. Y/N in her pink poffy dress with light up shoes waving and smiling at all the agents she sees.

Once they get to the bullpen, Y/N is introduced to the team who are all excited to meet the young girl. Soon Hotch is busy in his office mountains of paperwork to go through.

On the floor lays Y/N, the young girl had grown bored it staying in the office. She had drawn lots of pictures, played with her toys. Now she wanted to explore.

Getting up from the floor she walks over to the door and opens it quietly, giggling silently she squeezes through the gap and is now free from the room.

Giggling she runs around the bullpen looking at all the desk and the members of her daddy's team, one person stand out to her, that's person being Spencer Reid who had jsut recently joined the BAU.

Walking up to thr agent she grabs onto his pant leg and shakes his gaining the surprised Dr's attention, looking doen and the girl dressed in pink spencer gives her an awkward smile.

"Hi..?" He says Y/N grins up at him. "Hi! I'm Y/N" she tells him proudly. Spencer is taken aback how smiley Hotches daughter is.

"I'm Spencer, nice to meet you Y/N" he says, before Y/N holds her arms up to him, Spencer was confused before realising she wanted to be picked up.

Nervously looking over to his bosses office he picks the girl up and sets her down on his lap, Y/Ns smiles brightens as she was held by the young man.

The brown haired man was surprised again when the ball on energy on his lap twisted around so she could koala hug him, pressing tightly to him Spencer hugged her back.

" your nice" came a muffled voice pressed to his chest, Spencer let out a surprised laugh at that making Y/N erupted into giggles all over again.

After hugging spencer the H/C tot began moving around as he tried to work, afgwr wriggling a bit she finally settled behind him, half sitting on top of his chair and half holding onto his back.

Y/N happily played with the agents hair as Spencer worked, he was slowly getting used to the girl spending time with him.

As this happened a very worried Dad was panicking in his office trying to find his daughter, after going through everything in his office Hotch threw open his door and stepped down the ramp into the bullpen.

Morgan stood from his desk as he saw the worried expression on the man's face. "Woah woah, what's happened Hotch?" He asks the worried man.

Shoulders shaking Aaron explained he couldn't find his daughter anywhere, instead of helping Derek just laughed and pointed.

Following his arm Hotch breathed a sigh off relief as he saw where Y/N had got to, smiling he watched his daughter laugh and play with the young doctors hair.

He was glad she was okay and made a new friend. Quickly taking a few pictures he sends them to Haily who messaged back just a quick. "Some one made a new friend" chuckling he responded. "I think they both made a new friend"

Putting his phone away he went back to his office, happy to leave his daughter in his agents capable hands.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot sorry for the wait! Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word Count : 1375

[antheaholmesblog]

The pain in his eyes. The tears...the trauma...his trauma. Everything that involves children... it's too much for him. And I can't blame him when you think back to what he said in episode 8 season 1. Where his own abuse was implied...the abuse by his father as a child. It all makes sense and I just want to give him a big hug and hold him close. To tell him that he doesn't always have to be strong...even if he thinks he does.

I almost started crying too.

[doctorreidswife]

Anything for you - Aaron Hotchner

You put yourself in danger and Hotch gets worried.

word count: 1433

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

You and Spencer had been sent on a case together with Child Protection Services. They were stuck in a room with what felt like a cult, worshipping this man - Cyrus - a man who was married to a 15 year old girl. While you hadn't given away that you were FBI Agents, they somehow got the idea that one of you were. You and Spencer were separated from the rest of the cult and approached by Cyrus and another one of his men. 

"Which one of you is the FBI agent?" He asked, his hand resting on his hip, fingers dancing over his gun. You froze, your stomach sinking. You had no idea what was about to happen and you were hoping Spencer would be able to talk you way out of this one and manage to get you out safely. 

"Why do you think one of us is an FBI Agent?" You could see the dread in Spencer's eyes too, glancing back at you. You swallowed thickly as Cyrus opened his mouth again. 

"God will forgive me for what I must do." He spoke before pulling out his gun and pointing it at Spencer's head. His friend cocked the rifle in his hands and pointed them at your head and for a brief moment you thought you were going to die then and there. 

"I--i don't know what you're talking about." Spencer stuttered, shaking his head. Cyrus didn't like that and aggressively pointed the gun at him. 

"One of you does. Who is it?" He pressed angrily. You could see the fear in Spencer's eyes; he didn't want anyone to hurt you, but you weren't about to let anyone hurt him. 

"Me." You spoke up, your voice quiet. Cyrus turned his head to you slowly and you looked up at him, your eyes meeting briefly before you spoke more confidently. "It's me." Cyrus reached out and grabbed a fistful of you hair, dragged you to your feet and dragging you down the corridor. You let out a series of grunts, trying to fight against him, your heart pounding beneath your ribs. You knew what was about to come, but you couldn't let them hurt Spencer. He was like a brother to you. He dragged you into a room and slammed the door shut, throwing you on the floor before getting in you face, his breath wafting over your cheeks. You stared up at him, too afraid to say anything back to the man,

"I told you not to put me in this position!" He roared in your face, spit splattering on your skin. You flinched away from him, hoping and praying that Spencer and the rest of the team were figuring out a way to save you. He hit you harshly across the face, the slap so loud that your team - who were listening in on the conversation from the bugs they'd planted - could hear it clear as day.

Hotch balled his fists up in frustration, not being able to help, his eyes closed and hand pressing against his forehead, struggling to listen to you getting hurt. Derek winced, his eyes closed. He hated hearing you in pain. Cyrus' knee came in contact with your stomach and you grunted again, winded.

"We gotta go in there." Hotch said, taking his headphones off for a moment, his stomach turning. He hated the idea of you being in danger. He always did everything he could to ensure that you were safe and he hated the fact that he couldn't be there right now to stop the beating you were enduring from the sick man. 

"We'd be risking the lives everyone in there." Rossi shook his head, listening with a deep breath. It was a struggle for everyone, nobody knowing what to do other than just stand and listen to you being hurt.

"Get up!" Cyrus dragged you up before immediately punching you with such force that you flew back into the mirror on the wall behind you, the glass shattering and cutting into your skin. Cyrus pressed you into the wall, blood dripping down your face from your nose as he spoke into your ear. "Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil." He grabbed the back of her shirt before throwing you into the opposing wall of the small room. Another grunt left your lips as you staggered to your feet, looking up at him with a burning hatred behind your eyes. 

"I can take it." You spat out. He let out a low chuckle, cocking his head. 

"Oh, you can take it?" He mocked, hitting you again. Rossi frowned, listening to your voice.

"Wait--wait. Listen to what she's saying." He said, the team frowning as you repeated yourself, louder.

"I can take it." You got to your feet.

 "She's antagonizing him." Derek said, turning his head to look at Rossi. Rossi shook his head looking at Hotch.

"She's not talking to him." Hotch looked up, wiping his mouth. The worry was evident on his face. 

"She's talking to us. She's telling us not to come in." He spoke, his mouth dry. He knew you were strong and you could persevere, but he really didn't want you to be hurt. You were his saving grace. 

"Pride comes before the fall." He snarled, continuing to hit you. You didn't even get the chance to fight back, being thrown around. Your body hit the floor, trembling as you tried to hold yourself together. Cyrus stepped away, looking at your blood covered body. You didn't think you would be able to hold out this long. Derek threw his headphones off and Hotch looked to Rossi, visibly worried.

"Tie her up. Put her upstairs." Cyrus said, his friend moving towards your body to drag you upstairs. You just let the man manhandle you; if you fought with him you would end up worse than you already were. 

*****

Due to the bug, you had managed to contact one of your teammates who told you when they  were going to raid the place and put a stop to Cyrus at 3am. You hadn't figured out how to get out yet. You had spoken to Jessica's mom but she didn't seem to be on board and left you..... or at least you thought until she came into the room they were holding you in, talking to you in hushed whispers.

"You were right. They're setting the place to blow up. I told Jessie, Cyrus wanted her gather the women and children." She spoke, untying you. You rubbed your wrists, looking out the window, trying to spot anything before turning back to Jessies mom. 

"Where is the man I came in with?" You ask. You needed to leave with Spencer. You couldn't lose your brother, not now, not here. She reached back and took your hand, her eyes gentle.

"He's in the chapel with Cyrus. It's 2:45 though. We gotta hurry." She said, tugging you with her. 

********

You had successfully escaped the chapel in one piece along with the other members of the cult that was going on there before it had blown up. Your lungs filled with the smoke that was billowing around you. You could barely see what was in front of you, just being able to make out silhouettes of people moving around you. You felt dizzy, having being beaten and then escaping into smoke clouds. You stumbled down a couple stairs, head whipping around, trying to find Hotch. You needed him right now. 

You stepped down the remainder of the steps, the smoke dissipating enough that you could decipher faces. You turned to the left and there stood Hotch. The look of worry on his face made you feel sick but before you could register what was going on, your feet were stumbling over to him. You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck. 

"I've got you baby." He held you tight, one arm around your waist, the other tangling in your hair. "I've got you,,, and I ain't letting you go." You could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his anxiety skyrocketing. 

"Please don't." You whispered. You looked up at him, hands shifting either side of his neck before moving forwards and pressing your lips again his. He held you face gently, guiding your face closer to his. He kissed you back, his moving slowly against yours as you cherished the moment. He was glad you weren't dead and you were glad to be back in his arms. He pulled away, leaning closer to you ear to whisper to you. 

"Anything for you.. My love." 

[veeluvss]

pizza delivery

reader x team (you are jj’s sister)

based of an edit i saw on tiktok but also lonestar ml <3

>1k

"how about we spend our last night together having some fun darling?" johnny snarled, handing me the phone. "order pizza. you're paying. i want a large pepperoni and fries too. don't forget the garlic mayo," she said nonchalantly, taking a seat behind me. i nodded, fumbling with the phone and making sure he couldn't see the screen.

dialling JJ's number, the phone shook violently in my hand. i was risking a lot.  johnny had his gun in my back. i was only ordering pizza. "hey y/n what's up?" jj answered, voice chirpy. "hi," i tried to keep my voice strong. "i'd like to order a pizza for delivery." she laughed down the phone, "a pizza? i think you've dialed the wrong number!" she laughed. i heard emily's voice in the background. then i heard the phone engage to speaker. "i don't think so," i told my sister. emily spoke then. "she sounds scared." i was petrified. "do you still have the cheesy crust?" i mumbled. "the address? sure." i told them the address, praying the team understood - even if JJ didn't.

jj's pov i felt sick to the stomach. morgan looked to me in the back of the car and began speeding off in that direction. i wanted to throw up. my sister. my baby. "y/n are you in danger?" emily asked, her hand resting on my leg. "is someone there making you feel like you can't speak freely?" morgan added. "that's right," she said.

i gulped, shaking my head. i put my head on emily's shoulder. "morgan drive faster god damn it," emily cursed him. "we understand y/n," morgan said. garcia spoke then but i was shaking with fear. "help us on the way." emily leaned over to the phone. "tell me, how many people are in the apartment?" "would a medium pepperoni be big enough for two people?" she muttered back. her voice wavering. i couldn't listen anymore but i had to.

your pov the gun prodded my back and whimpered. "what are you doing?" johnny snarled. "i asked for a large." "there's one other person with you, is that what i'm hearing?" morgan asked. "yes! that's right!" my voice went up, a glimmer of hope. they were coming. "you're doing great," emily praised me and i wanted to cry. why wasn't JJ speaking? where was she? i needed her to come too. "is the person threatening you armed?" i heard rossi ask. they told me to ask for extra pepperoni and my heart was beating harder. this was taking too long - far too long. "is this person known to you?" emily asked. "mhmm," JJ knows johnny. JJ knows how bad he was with me, no one else does. "a family member? a spouse or an ex?" "the last one," i whimpered, feeling the gun press further into my back. "how long are you going to be?" "we're 8 minutes out," derek told me and my heart plummeted. that was too much time. "ask for peppers if there is somewhere safe you can get to..." emily said. "no! definitely no peppers."

jj's pov. tears were streaming steadily down my face at this point. when garcia told us his name, i whimpered and cowered in my seat. i knew i should have done something about him when i had the chance. "two priors of aggravated assault," garcia said. "she had a permanent restraining order against him." "so this is his third strike, he's not going peacefully," morgan threatened. all i could think about was my sweet little sister, sobbing in my arms at his abuse. why didn't i do something sooner?

your pov "what the hell is taking so long?" johnny groaned, cocking the gun. i gulped. "sorry, they're just really bus-" "then call somewhere else!" he shouted, making me cower. "i'm starving!" i took a deep breath, "listen, i might have to cancel this order. my boyfriends getting kind of mad so.." "listen y/n, we'll be there in less than two minutes with swat." morgan told me and i felt some sort of relief. emily begged me to stay on, asking me to try my hardest and i agreed. i was still waiting to hear my sisters voice. that's the only hope i needed. morgan began asking me questions but suddenly the cloth forced itself around my mouth. i couldn't breath. "nice try, bitch." johnny snarled, snatching the phone from my hand. then, sweet saviour, i heard her. "johnny, where's y/n?" "she's right here," he laughed before hitting me. i groaned and cried. "please," i sobbed. "say hi to your friends," he laughed. i needed JJ. where the fuck was JJ.

jj's pov. "listen johnny," emily said, keeping her cool. i froze hearing her groans in pain. i'd heard them far too many times to know she was hurting. if she made noise, she was in unbearable pain and i needed to hold her. "the cops are already on their way. how this ends is up to you." "this only ends one way!" he shouted down the phone and i flinched. my baby sister. emily began explaining to johnny the situation and i felt so sick. suddenly, we pulled up outside. emily carried on talking, pretending not to know so he'd know. "shut up!" he screamed and i flinched everytime. "please, shut up!" he repeated. "what's going on johnny? talk to me," morgan said, getting into place. prentiss told me the plan and i nodded, quickly wiping my tears. "she ruined it!" johnny snarled. that's what dad used to say. "she always ruins it." "nothing is ruined. we can fix this okay?" rossi said and as we took our positions by the apartment. as soon as the trampoline was up, i shook like a leaf, clinging to emily- watching the window like a hawk. "how? how can we fix this?" i heard him say inside. then emily speak on the headset. "my grandmother always used to say, when a door closes, open a window..." she said. i hid my head in her shoulder. "you have to take a leap... of faith." just then, i saw her flash of blonde hair and voices raise. emily scrambled to the air bag as she scurried off it- taking my sister into her arms. "it's okay y/n." she said. "you're safe now." she then stepped aside and i took my baby sister into my arms. she clung to me the way she did when we were children. "i knew you'd understand," she cried into my shoulder. i only held her tighter, feeling relief and love and anger. my god. what a pizza delivery.

[ssaflorencem]

The thrill of killing you| BAU x Unsub reader

Introduction and about me:

I am new to tumblr, I go by she/her pronouns.

This story will be about an unsub reader and about the majority of BAU but will focus on Aaron Hotchner and Dr Spencer Reid.

In this story they reader (aka you) will be speaking both English, Dutch, and Swedish (I will translate all Dutch and Swedish into English)

Y/N is AFAB in this story.

There will be us of Y/N, cuss words and maybe smut (more likely then not). There will be mentions of murder.

While we know the BAU would most likely be able to catch reader quickly, this is going to be a bit like cat and mouse though.

There will be a little bit of Cat Adams mentioned and, in this world, Aaron never left criminal minds (but we still have Luke Alvez)

Reader was born in the Netherlands to Swedish and Dutch parents. She moved to America at the age of ten. (that’s why both these languages will be used)

Chapter warnings: Animal death (of dears been hunted). Mention of guns (hunting rifle and glock). Badly written. Mentions of SA (it’s not graphic at all). Not proof read, sorry about that :)

A/N: there is no mention of the BAU in this chapter. This is basically a background story of the reader. The next chapter will include the BAU.

Chapter One: To the end

It wasn’t hard doing what you do. You had learnt how to hunt at an early age, it was fun. The thrill of going out with only a hunting rifle was exciting to you. You left your phone at your house; you didn’t want any distractions. See, hunting deer was a nice way to blow of steam, that moment when the life of an innocent animal was in your hands, you felt like a god. That deer couldn’t beg for its life, it couldn’t ask for mercy, it could just look at you.

 

So now when the people you are hunting could beg and plea with you, ‘please I don’t know why you are doing this, I’ve done nothing wrong.’ All you could do was laugh. Sure, tell yourself you haven’t done anything wrong, tell me you’re innocent.  Every person you had killed had done something wrong. They had hurt someone else and thought they could get away with it, and you could not let that happen.

 

Now the thrill of the hunt was better than ever, you know that phase where people say you’ll never experience a high, like your first ever high, that was a lie to you because every kill you did, brought you a sense of justice to this world, made you feel like you were doing something important. You no longer hunted deer, there was pity and sorrow in their eyes. Eyes that just gleamed innocence.

 

The only thing that was really different now to when you were just killing deer, is you did bring your phone. You brought it so you could listen to music. I mean it was a powerplay, you watched them cry and beg for their life, and you just put your headphones in. You watched how powerless they became; you saw the hope leave their eyes. And it felt amazing.

 

Your first kill (other than the deer) was a man called Michael O’Stevens. He seemed like a nice man, but he had sexually assaulted around 30 women, but after each one of those crimes he had committed he would go home to his wife and daughter. You couldn’t let him get away with that, but you wanted his wife to know why he had to die, why she was never going to see her husband again. So, you did the only logically thing and wrote her a letter.

 

“Dear Mrs O’Stevens.

 

I am sorry to inform you about your husband like this, but I can’t let you see who I am.

 

Your husband is not a nice man, he is not who you think he is. I’ve watched him, I’ve seen how he treats you and your daughter, but outside your house he is a completely different man.

 

He finds vulnerable women and hurts them. He takes them in his care and abuses them. He then throws them out like trash, like he hasn’t just caused them a great deal of trauma.

 

So, I’m sorry to write you this, but tomorrow will be the last time you see your husband alive. I won’t torture him, though he deserves it. I will just make him feel like those women, and then pull a trigger.

 

It may you hurt you, you may grieve him, but you deserve better.”

 

You knew better than to hand write it and send it through mail. You hand delivered it to her house in the early morning.

 

Killing Mr O’stevens was the easy part, but you needed a way of getting him away from the town he was living in.

 

So, the day after you sent Mrs O’stevens her letter, you dressed up like you had spent the night out drinking and walked down a road you knew Mr O’stevens frequently travelled. Your plan worked; I mean he was attracted to you like a moth to a flame.

 

He rolled down his car window and shouted;

 

“Hey, need a ride?”

 

You knew that you had to play hard to get, you knew that’s what he liked.

 

“Oh no, I am alright, thank you though.”

 

“I insist. It’s cold and quite frankly its dangerous to be walking alone.”

 

“I really don’t want to bother you; I live a far distance away.”

 

“You are not bothering me, please get in.”

“Erm, Okay.”

 

With that your plan was rolling into motion. You hid your gun, a .40 caliber glock, under your skirt. Though it was different to what you were used to, you couldn’t conceal a rifle.

 

He put his hand on your thigh and whisper in a low tone;

 

“I think you should repay me for been so kind to you. Don’t you?”

 

Oh, had he just asked the wrong person that.

 

“No, no I don’t.”

 

“Really? You think I should just allow you a free ride?”

 

“If you want me to get out, I can. But I am not repaying you shit, you offered.”

 

“Woah pretty lady, calm down. You only have to give me head, that’s all I want.”

 

“I am not giving you head.”

 

“Well, I didn’t really mean to ask you. I’m going to make you.”

 

He really was a piece of work.

 

“No, you are not. I am going to make you pay for all the other women you have hurt, you’re a sick son of a bitch. Now shut the fuck up and keep driving.”

 

You pulled the gun from under your skirt and held it to his head.

 

“I bet you think your wife is going to miss you. Huh? She won’t. Your daughter won’t even remember you. And your victims they’ll be glad you’re dead.”

 

He didn’t say a word for a while, he was crying though.


After around 20 minutes he spook:

 

“Why me? How did you find me?”

 

“I don’t reveal my secrets. Now keep going, you only have another 10 minutes left.”

 

You had made sure the spot you were in was quiet. No one would catch you in the act, it was the perfect spot.

 

He didn’t say another word, not until he was out of the car and on his knees.

 

“Please, please don’t kill me?”

 

“It’s a little too late to be begging for your life.”

 

“Please I am sorry, I won’t do it again.”

 

“You won’t do it again, because you won’t be alive.”

 

With that you put the gun to his temple and saw his eyes fill with fear.

 

“Maybe before you die, if you beg for forgiveness, you won’t face a miserable afterlife.”

 

With that you pulled the trigger. You saw the life drain from him. It was satisfying, you felt the same rush you had felt from killing those deer.

Previous part | Next part

[messyyythoughts]

the funny little things.

criminal minds Dr. Spencer Reid x female BAU reader

author’s note: oh dear... a new obsession, i fear! in all seriousness: this series single-handedly got me through the end of 2022, so what better to do than write something for it?! summary: your relationship with Dr Reid of the BAU is a good one, so good that there’s these little funny things that you both do with one another... warnings: working on murder cases (reader is part of BAU)/trauma from working on cases --> so read at your own discretion! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

when you first joined the BAU, you were nervous but who wouldn’t be?

you’d put your heart, blood, sweat and tears into passing those profiling classes and you’d passed with flying colours! your parents were very happy for you, knowing it had been a lifelong dream of yours

on your first day you didn’t have a desk set up, and you were mortified that the BAU had forgotten about you on your first day

you almost turned around and walked back out of that office, until you bumped into Spencer Reid, that absolute charmer.

“oh, sorry,” Reid smiled apologetically, “hey, is your name–” you both said your name at the same time. Reid’s face broke out into a smile, and he held out his hand. “I saw your reports, impressive work for someone so young.” he had his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “not that you’re too young for the job or anything.” he added hastily. “oh thank you, uh, I’m just doing my best really.” you were trying to not stumble over yourself as you spoke, recognising Dr Reid as he stood in front of you. he asked where your desk was, secretly hoping he’d be able to talk some more with you, until you admitted there wasn’t a desk ready for you. a flush of embarrassment crept up your face, and Reid pressed his lips together in thought. he motioned for you to follow him to his desk, which he pulled a spare chair to and presented it to you proudly. “we can, uh, share,” he said, “until they find you one.” you smiled shyly, placing your bag on your lap as you took one chair and he took the other. he really liked your energy, so quiet, but he knew once you realised you could do the job he’d see the other side of you. when JJ called the team to the briefing room for a meeting, you found that your legs were cemented to the seat. this was it, your first case, what you’d been waiting for your entire life. Reid was up and gone, and you followed after a second of muddled thinking. inside the room was a team of faces you hadn’t met yet, but you knew all about them. Reid had a spare chair by his side, and after realising JJ was waiting for you to sit, you hurried over. as you sat down, JJ started bringing up the pictures of the victims and crime scenes, reading out the background information. you finally felt like you were getting somewhere.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

you were exhausted to say the least when you returned to the jet for the journey home. you’d followed Reid like a lost puppy on this case, but the others had been kind to you. Emily asked how you were doing each time she saw you, always privately checking in. JJ would text you for updates, giving you a smile whenever you crossed paths. Rossi made you feel like you were being included by asking for your thoughts, coming to you for second opinions. Morgan never left you behind anywhere, always on guard as you two went around together. Hotch carefully watched your body language and facial expressions throughout the case, jumping in when he thought you were beginning to fall behind. and Miss Penelope was always gushing at how polite you were when calling her for help, and promised to see you as soon as you returned. you obviously felt very welcomed, and even as quiet fell across the jet, it was comfortable. you text your parents that you were done with your first case, and closed your eyes to doze. 

you didn’t even realise that you had leaned a bit too far across and had your head on Reid’s shoulder

he shuffled down a bit so your head rested easily, before taking out a book of his and picking up where he left off

the others soon noticed and couldn’t help but smile, because for once Reid looked content in the company of another person

after that, it was an unspoken rule that no matter where you sat on the jet, Reid was next to you. you almost always slept, unless a case had been particularly harrowing and it kept you awake thinking, and each time your head would fall onto Reid’s waiting shoulder. it was also another unspoken rule that when the jet lands, no one wakes you up, except Reid.

he’s the only person you’ll be happy to let you wake you up on the jet

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

the drive home is always longer than the drive to work, you find, but this changed when Reid offered to help save the environment by carpooling!

when in Virginia, Reid likes carpooling with you to work, and dropping you off home at the end of the day

he’ll take you anywhere really if you ask him too :)

after a case, he has to see you walk in and lock the door behind you before driving away to his place

it gives him peace of mind that you’re safe without him there, not that he could attempt to physically fight a random intruder away, but he could certainly talk them into confusion!

to pass the time between being at home and going to work, where you’d see Reid again, you picked up the habit of reading.

when you bring a book with you anywhere, Reid makes a point of taking interest in it, then looking into it after you’ve finished it just so he can talk to you about it over the following weeks

even with the oddest of books, he’ll put himself through reading just so he knows what you’re talking about the next time he sees you

he would never have read The Hunger Games trilogy without your influence.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

it goes without saying that the BAU job is not an easy one. you’ve seen more mangled bodies than a graveyard, and walked through such gruesome crime scenes you were sure they weren’t real. the persistent nightmares started not long after your first few cases, and you told no one. not your parents, not even Reid, who you were sure had experienced nightmares too. there was one night in particular where you had been tossing and turning, then stretching and walking around your bedroom to try and tire yourself out. nothing stopped you from seeing the images of women that had been torn apart, discarded like they were nothing every time you closed your eyes. and then your morning alarm went off.

Reid noticed that you were off as you got into the car, no “good morning sunshine” or “hey handsome” as you normally said when buckling up

“you’re quiet, no sleep last night?” Reid asked, pulling away from your place and side-eyeing you

“yeah, sadly, it’s just one bad night though.” you half-smiled at him, trying to sleep in the car on the way to work

when you got there, Reid had coffee ready to go at all hours of the day, sometimes preempting your needs and placing a full mug on your desk before you could get up

at the end of the day where you’d only filled out paperwork, Reid saw that you were struggling, and had an idea

“so, I was thinking, there’s actually this new way to fall asleep by tricking your brain. we could try it tonight so you catch up on your sleep.” Reid said casually, as you finished more coffee. “I’ll do anything right now to get a decent night’s sleep.” you sighed, getting up to wash your mug before finishing up the paperwork for the night. Reid smiled as you walked off, the perfect plan in his head. once you were both done, Reid drove to your place, and joined you inside. “now what?” you asked, eyes heavy but brain still ticking over. “the fun part. you get changed, I’ll do the rest.” Reid started messing with your TV, and you just followed his instructions. you showered, changed clothes and met him back downstairs. he had the TV ready and the sofa made up. “I’ll stay for a bit to see if it works,” he then added, “if you don’t mind?” you waved a hand at him, you didn’t care if he slept on your bed, and he settled down next to you on the sofa.

an old Hollywood movie starts to play, black and white, and you glance at Reid in suspicion

he tells you to just relax and watch it, and about halfway through you’re falling asleep to the sound of the famous Transatlantic accent, exaggerated sound effects and old time music

Reid is overjoyed that his idea worked, because this is what he does sometimes to bore his brain to sleep on those difficult nights

he finds himself falling asleep too, but gets up and turns out the lights and closes the curtains before locking your front door

and settling back down on the sofa next to your sleeping form

he tells himself he’ll run home in the morning and change before work

the next morning, you both wake up, late. with less than an hour to get to work, Reid sped home to shower, change and eat before picking you back up. despite being in fresh clothes, with hastily applied makeup on and carrying breakfast in your hands, you both looked awful. you were much brighter this morning though, as you laughed getting into the car. you arrived at work just in time, huffing and sorting out hair and clothes at your desk. Reid’s shirt was half tucked in and your hair was so damn messy. luckily, no one paid much attention to the vibe between you both that day. you two chatted all day about the ending of the film that neither of you actually watched, and you asked Reid to come over again soon and let you choose the movie.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

it wasn’t until a few months in that Reid overheard you talking to your mother on the phone, he loved the way you smiled and laughed when talking to her, and then how you said goodbye so softly. what he’d do to have you speak to him like that for a day. when you caught him staring, you threw your pen at him. you had desks right next to each other, so you often wheeled on over, just to talk to him. whenever you approached, he stopped whatever he was doing and gave his full attention to you. “so,” you began, leaning back in your chair, “seeing as you like listening to my phone calls with my mother,” he held back a smile, “how is your mother doing?” you asked. he handed you a piece of writing paper, and you raised an eyebrow at it. “she’s doing good, I was actually just writing my letter to her.” you scan over his words and smile. he’s telling her about his recent case (as much as he can without getting into trouble). you hand the letter back and watch him finish the rest over the course of the day. on the drive home he thinks of something else to add in before he sends it off tonight.

the first time Reid mentioned you to his mother in his letters, it was nothing but a mention of your first few days in the BAU

all of her replies consisted of asking about you, and if Spence liked you

Reid blew it off as you being work friends and nothing more, but a mother always knows.

now Reid asks you to add in a paragraph to every letter he writes, because his mother likes hearing from you (she thinks you’re smart, and very funny)

sometimes you receive random greeting cards from Reid’s mother through the post, and you reply to them with a smile on your face

you have all of her cards pinned up in the kitchen, Reid saw the collection once and marvelled at it

“oh yeah, your mother is lovely, I get one every so often.” you tell him, smiling at your growing collection. “I’m almost jealous.” Reid admits, with a smirk as you admire the cards. “she wants to meet you, you know. I kind of promised her I’d visit soon, and bring you with me.” your eyes met his, and he struggled to maintain eye contact. “why didn’t you say?” you lightly shoved him on the arm and booked tickets to see Reid’s mother that evening over takeaway and drinks.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

your visit to meet Reid’s mother went well, really well. you didn’t bat an eyelid when she said out of context things and made zero sense, you just smiled and listened. Reid had never adored you more than in that moment, sat across from his mother, listening to her rattle on. Reid was aware that he did the same sometimes, but you also listened to him when he was on one, and he loved you for it. you had the weekend in Nevada, and after visiting Reid’s mother, he suggested going to several different places. you spent all weekend going around Nevada, taking pictures for your parents and videos for your own memory. you’d booked adjoining rooms in the hotel after some careful consideration, but that didn’t stop you from walking straight into Reid’s room in your hotel robe asking to borrow toothpaste because there was apparently none in your bathroom. the truth was there was toothpaste in your bathroom, you just wanted to see Reid. it became a joke for you, and Reid was none the wiser, for a while.

Reid discovered when he was hanging out in your room that it was all a joke

after you had fell asleep watching a really bad movie, he went to turn the bathroom light off

only to find your own toothpaste sitting there on the bathroom sink, untouched

he realised what you’d done with a smirk and turned the bathroom light off

the next morning when you asked to borrow toothpaste again (purely to see him half-awake in bed) he said yes without hesitation and you let yourself into his room with a hidden smile

this was the first time he’d been part of an inside joke, and he loved it

you were in your short pyjamas, the heat of Nevada hadn’t been a joke, even with aircon in the rooms you found yourself hotter than usual. Reid watched as you entered his bathroom, taking the toothpaste, and returning to your bathroom. he smiled as you brushed your teeth, clueless to his newly acquired knowledge. he knew just what to do with it too. when you got back to Virginia, you showed your parents some moments from the trip and they asked some very thought provoking questions. “honey, this doctor guy seems lovely, are you sure it’s just a friendship?” your mother asked, watching you from across the kitchen. you smiled at her and nodded. “we’re good friends, and good work colleagues, I couldn’t ask for more.” you replied, to which your father nodded. “that’s all we can ask for, a good friend in your life.” your father then got up, walking over to you and your mother in the kitchen. he poured himself some coffee, thinking. you knew exactly what was coming. “but,” you started to chuckle, “are you sure this isn’t something more?” you nodded in silence, and he walked away, not believing a word you said. your mother eyed you up as you scrolled through the selfies of you and Spence in Nevada, and tutted. even she could see it, you were falling for this Spencer Reid character faster than you realised. still, she didn’t say anything, not yet at least. perhaps you’d come to the realisation once the trip became a memory and you thought about what a good time you had with your ‘work friend’. you giggled to yourself whenever you thought about the toothpaste stunts you’d pulled, thinking Spence was none the wiser, until he dropped you off home one evening after work and then a few minutes later knocked on your front door.  “Spence?” you asked, opening the front door to let him in. “hi, yeah, I actually meant to ask you something but it slipped my mind until just now.” he said, so casually. “I don’t have any toothpaste at home, could I borrow yours?” your cheeks betrayed you, as did your facial expression. Reid smiled devilishly at catching you out, and you brought your hands to your face. “you knew the whole time? oh why didn’t you say?!” you laughed weakly, as Reid watched you unravel in your hallway. you looked straight at him, eyes twinkling with mischief, but face so hot. Reid closed your front door, leaving his hand on the handle. “so?” he asked, eyes meeting yours. “can I borrow your toothpaste? or do I go home empty handed?” you finally got a hold on yourself, and pressed your lips together before facing him. “Spencer Reid, are you asking me for toothpaste, or something else?” you asked, taking steps towards him. “I think we both know the toothpaste isn’t what I’m here for.” he said it so calmly, looking at you with his beautiful, smart eyes. 

you shared your first kiss with the charming Dr. Reid that night, and things only got better from there

anything toothpaste related was immediately taken the wrong way by you two, whether on your own or with company

you both tried to hide the blossoming relationship, but soon the others in the BAU noticed all of those funny little things that happened between you and Spencer, and it became hard to hide it without feeling like you were suffocating one another. there would be serious discussions ahead, and you were already preparing to be transferred to another team, but you could do it if it meant staying with Spencer. something told you that Hotch may be able to keep things as they were for the time being, if you both behaved. and you’d both never do anything to disappoint Hotch, intentionally.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

[med-ex]

i dont know if this borders on crack!fic vibes but i have an overwhelming urge to write a fallout/criminal minds au fic

[magewritesstories]

[ SPENCER REID ] IT'S BASIC MATH, REALLY

cw. my continuation of unit chief!spencer reid x gen z!agent, in this installation you try to explain girl math to him [fluff.] wc. 601 (it's a small blurb)

SPENCER REID KNOWS MATH; HE HAS A PHD IN IT TO PROVE SO. But somehow you've managed to stump him (which happens more often than the genius would like to admit) with the concept of what you call 'girl math.'

It started when you walked into the small crowded bar near the Quantico building where the team had decided to meet up after a particularly satisfying arrest.

You strutted into the room in a pair of gorgeous, expensive-looking shoes, and of course, Penelope had to comment on it.

"Oh my God, Y/N," the blonde practically squealed as she pulled you into a hug, "You look even more gorgeous than usual—I love, love, love those shoes!"

You let out a soft laugh as you joined the rest of the team at the table with a quick greeting. "Thanks, Pen, they were actually pretty cheap," you reply, "I got 'em at Bloomingdales."

"Really?" JJ asked, joining in on the conversation, "Were they having a sale?"

"Nope, but they were only $156," you answer.

Spencer raised his brows in surprise, "You think $156 is a cheap price for one pair of shoes?"

"Mhm," you hum as you take a drink that Luke hands you, "It's girl math."

"Come again?"

"Girl math," you clarify, standing closer to him so that he can hear you over the loud music.

Spencer leans towards you instinctively, genuinely curious about whatever 'girl math' was.

"So, basically, these shoes cost $156, right?" you say as he nods along, "But they're comfortable and cute, plus they go with like four different outfits, which means I'll be wearing them a lot. In the coming month, I'll probably wear them, like, 10 maybe 15 times. Which means that they actually only cost me around 10 to 15 dollars—you know, if you divide 156 by the amount of times I wear them."

"But you don't pay for the shoes in installments," Spencer replied in confusion, "And your shoes aren't a car, the amount you walk in them doesn't depreciate their value like mileage would a car."

You shrug as you take another swig of your drink. "But this way, I make myself feel better about spending $156 on shoes," you reply with a grin.

"So it's a form of consolation?" he replied with a small grin playing on his lips.

You roll your eyes as you give him a soft shove, "Shut up, Dr. Reid."

Spencer lets out a laugh at your playful eye roll.

"Well, either way, you do look nice in them," he said.

"You sayin' I don't usually look nice?" you teased, leaning even closer to him.

The close proximity suddenly made him realize the rest of the team had magically vanished from the table.

(Luke and Penelope had managed to drag JJ and Emily to the dance floor, while Matt, Tara, and Rossi were making conversation with the bartender.)

"Silence, really, doc?" you continued, feigning a hurt expression, "I'm hurt."

"I—I—What, no!" Spencer quickly replied, turning back to you, "That's not what I—what I mean was you look nicer than usual—not that you don't usually look nice or anything—"

You laughed, throwing your head back just a little, as you stopped him from digging himself an even deeper grave. "Calm down, Spence, I was joking."

You put down the now empty glass and grabbed his arm. "C'mon, you need to loosen up, let's dance."

Spencer let you drag him to the dance floor, where he pointedly ignored JJ and Emily's surprised faces as well as Luke and Penelope's eyebrow wiggles.

He was never going to hear the end of this.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Could you do the (16/17 year old) step daughter of spencer who calls him really late one night to pick her up from a party because she's (very) drunk and she knows he's up bc of his insomnia. And she clearly sees him as her father bc her dad left before she was even born.

Spencer Reid X Stepdaughter Fem Reader

THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS!

Request: Could you do the (16/17 year old) step daughter of spencer who calls him really late one night to pick her up from a party because she's (very) drunk and she knows he's up bc of his insomnia. And she clearly sees him as her father bc her dad left before she was even born.

Third person pov...

Y/N was out at a friends house for a party, she was having fun, dancing and drinking all night long. She hadn't gone to a party in ages.

As the clock struck 1 am, Spencer was lying in bed, eyes wide open. Insomnia had been a constant companion for him, It was especially difficult on nights like this, when his stepdaughter Y/N was out at a party.

Y/N was a bright, independent teenager. But Spencer couldn't help but worry about her, especially since her biological father had left them before the H/C girl was even born. Spencer had taken on the role of a father to Y/N and they had formed a strong bond over the years.

Just as Spencer was about to drift off to sleep, his phone rang, jolting him awake, he immediately sat up, concern flooding through him, groggily he answered the call, expecting it to be Y/N checking in before heading home.

"Hey Y/N, everything okay?" Spencer answered with a touch of worry in his voice.

"Hi, uhm, can you come and pick me up from this party? I'm really drunk and I don't want to stay here anymore" The teenagers words were slurred and her voice was shaky.

"Of course, Y/N, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Just stay put and I'll come get you" Spencer replied, already getting dressed and grabbing his car keys.

"Thanks, Spencer" Y/N said

She then gave him the address of the party and hung up. Spencer quickly got dressed and left his house in a hurry.

As he drove towards the address, he couldn't help but worry about Y/N, He had always been there for her, but he knew that her teenage years would be difficult but he would be there for her.

When he arrived at the party, Spencer could hear the music blaring from the house. He parked his car and walked towards the front door, bracing himself for what he would find inside.

As he neared the house he saw her sat outside. Y/N was sitting on the porch steps, her head hanging low, her H/C hair hanging infront of her face.

He could see the tears streaming down her face, and his heart broke. He got out of the car and walked towards her, sitting down next to her.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asked, gently placing a hand on her back.

Y/N wiped her tears and nodded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you. I just wanted to go home"

Spencer hugged her tightly, rubbing her back as she cried. "It's okay, Y/N I'm here for you"

"I-I'm sorry" the teenager hiccuped, trying to stand up but failing miserably.

Spencer gently helped her up and led her to the car, Once she was buckled in, he drove her home in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Y/N spoke, fidgeting with her painted nails "I'm sorry, Spencer" she said, her voice shaky with emotion.

"I know I shouldn't have called you. I just...I needed somebody and i couldnt call my mum" Spencer reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay, N/N. I'm here for you. Always." They drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence. When they arrived home, Y/N stumbled out of the car, her legs unsteady from the alcohol.

Spencer helped her inside, and she collapsed onto the couch, shivering from the cold.

Spencer pulled a throw blanket over her, and she immediately snuggled into it, her body still shaking. He sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

They sat like that for a while, Y/Ns head resting against Spencer's chest. She was still shivering, and he could feel the guilt and regret radiating from her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I shouldn't have done this. I know you must be disappointed in me."

Spencer gently lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. "I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N You're not perfect, and I don't expect you to be. But I do expect you to be safe. And to always come to me when you need help."

Tears filled the H/C teen eyes, and she buried her face in Spencer's chest. "Thank you" she mumbled.

"I love you, Spencer. You're the only dad I've ever known"

Spencer's heart swelled with emotion, and he held her tighter, tears prickling at the corners of his own eyes.

He had never thought of himself as a father figure, but in that moment, he knew he would do anything for the girl in his arms.

They stayed there, cuddled up on the couch, until the sun began to rise. Y/n had eventually fallen asleep, her breathing slow and steady.

Spencer smiled, grateful for the opportunity to be there for her in her time of need.

She may not be his biological daughter, but in that moment, none of that mattered. They were family, and that was all that truly mattered.

He shifted himself so he could put a pillow under her head, he then unbuckled her shoes and put them down by the couch.

Standing up he looked down at her. "How am I going to do this" he muttered to himself, the tall man then leant down he wrapped an arm around her shoudlers and put his other one jnder her legs so he could lift her up.

Once she was in his arms she automatically curled up in his arms again, a content sigh escaped her lips. Smiling Spencer begins walking to his bedroom.

He wasn't going to let her sleep on the sofa, when he opened the door he he set the teenager down on the bed and lent her body against his so he could pull back the covered for her.

He then tucked her in, brushing her hair away from her face, he then kissed her temple. "Good night Y/N" he whsipers before closing the door.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, so sorry for the wait for this request! Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count : 1120

[reidsworld]

Unveiled Secrets

Summary: The BAU team has a sneaking suspicion that their stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner, is in a relationship, but they don't know the extent of it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Jack and Haley do not exist in this, kissing, cuddling, allusions to sex, light teasing, use of Y/N, pet names (my love, baby), that’s it I think, lmk if I missed any! Oh and pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k

Mars speaks… hi my loves, I was motivated to write so I am using this to figure out my writing style a bit and how I want to format my works! I’ve been going through a bit of a Hotch phase lately so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

The BAU office was slowly quieting down as the day turned to dusk, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the desks. Aaron Hotchner, head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, stood in his office, the soft light of his desk lamp highlighting the stress lines that had deepened over the years. He checked his watch—almost time to go home. A rare, soft smile touched his lips, a sight reserved for only one person.

He closed the case file on his desk, slipping it neatly into his briefcase before reaching for his jacket. His phone buzzed just as he picked it up, and he glanced at the screen to see a text from you, Can’t wait to see you. Should I pick up dinner?

That smile of his deepened as he quickly typed a reply, I’ll pick it up on my way home. See you soon, my love.

He hadn’t planned on keeping his relationship with you a secret, nor did he have any grand strategy for revealing it. He assumed that given time, his team would figure it out on their own. After all, they were profilers—eventually, they would notice the subtle shifts in his behaviour, the unexplained absences, the slightly more relaxed demeanour after particularly stressful cases. He hadn’t intended to hide it forever, just until they pieced it together.

As he opened the door to his office, however, he nearly collided with Spencer Reid, who was walking by, engrossed in a file. Reid looked up, startled, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Sorry, Hotch! I didn’t see you there."

"It’s alright, Reid," Hotch replied, a calmness in his voice that belied the momentary flicker of surprise in his eyes. He wasn’t often caught off-guard, especially not in the safety of his own office.

Reid, however, had a habit of noticing things others missed. His eyes flickered to the phone still in Hotch’s hand, the screen just dimming from inactivity. Before Hotch could slip it into his pocket, Reid’s sharp eyes caught your name on the screen. His brow furrowed in confusion as he processed the information.

“Y/N, as in the academy’s Y/N?” Reid asked, the question out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Reid’s sharp mind to pick up on the anomaly. Reid’s brain worked at lightning speed, connecting dots that others might have missed. He knew Hotch was fiercely private, but this reaction was new.

“Goodnight Reid” Aaron replied, quickly, shutting down any further questioning that may have come from the young genius.

Reid blinked, taken aback, but his curiosity was now piqued. However, years of working with Hotch had taught him when to push and when to back off. “Have a good evening, Hotch.”

As Reid walked away, Hotch let out a slow breath. This wasn’t how he wanted the team to find out, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. He had always assumed it would be Reid who would notice first; the young profiler missed nothing. Still, he had hoped for a bit more time. But the cat was out of the bag now, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the team found out.

The next morning, the BAU office was abuzz with more than the usual activity. Reid’s brief encounter with Hotch had set off a flurry of curiosity and speculation among the team. They were profilers, after all, and even the smallest clues could ignite their imaginations.

“I’m telling you, something’s definitely going on with Hotch,” Reid said as the team gathered in the bullpen before their morning briefing. He couldn't shake the image of your name on Hotch's phone from his mind.

JJ, trying to keep things under control, said, “Come on, guys, it could just be a friend. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a knowing grin on his face. “Reid’s onto something. Hotch has been acting a bit differently lately. He’s not staying late like he used to.”

“And he’s been smiling more often,” Garcia added, her excitement barely contained. “The man’s practically glowing sometimes.”

Rossi, with a teasing tone, suggested, “Maybe he’s just getting better sleep. But I have to admit, there’s definitely something different.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Don’t you want to know? If Hotch is seeing someone, that’s huge!”

Rossi shrugged, still smirking. “Of course, I’m curious. But let’s give him some space. If he wants us to know, he’ll tell us. And if we’re lucky, we might even get to meet her.”

Prentiss grinned, "Do you think it’s serious? Like, she’s ‘the one’?”

“I think,” Rossi said thoughtfully, “if Aaron is keeping this under wraps, it’s because it’s important to him. He wouldn’t be so secretive if it wasn’t serious.”

Just then, Hotch entered the bullpen, and the conversation quickly shifted to a quieter, more focused buzz. The team members turned to their desks, but the air was charged with unspoken questions and speculative glances. Hotch, sensing the change in atmosphere, gave a brief nod before heading to his office.

As the day dragged on with paperwork and case briefings, the undercurrent of curiosity remained. The team exchanged looks, clearly eager to discuss Hotch’s secret, but they were careful to avoid bringing it up directly. The excitement about Hotch’s personal life was palpable, and everyone was waiting for the right moment to address the topic.

Later that evening, Aaron finally headed home after a long day. As he walked through the front door, he found you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and a glass of wine in your hand. You looked up from the book you were reading, a smile spreading across your face when you saw him.

“Hi, baby, how was your day?” you asked, setting the book aside as he walked over to you.

“Tiring,” he admitted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And eventful. Reid saw a text from you last night.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no. What did he say?”

“He asked if it was from you,” Aaron said, sitting down beside you. “I shut him down, but I think I gave myself away. The team’s been acting strange all day.”

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “So, they’re onto us?”

He nodded, slipping an arm around you and pulling you closer. “It was bound to happen eventually. I just didn’t expect it to be now.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner,” you said, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “They are profilers, after all.”

He smiled down at you, his expression softening. “I never planned on keeping it a secret forever. I just figured they’d figure it out on their own time.”

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked with a playful grin.

He sighed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder. “I suppose it’s time to tell them. They’re already curious, and I’d rather they hear it from me than through rumours.”

“You know they’ll be happy for you,” you said, squeezing his hand. “For us.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But there’s a part of me that’s nervous. I’ve always kept my personal life separate from work, but with you… it’s different.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly, the warmth of the moment lingering between you. “We’ll do it together, then. When you’re ready.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, but a playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Right now, I want to do anything but think about the team,” his voice dropped to a low murmur.

You felt the heat of his words and smiled, leaning in closer. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered, as he nuzzled against you, his lips brushing yours with a grin.

A few days later, Rossi had decided to host a dinner party for the team. The team was eager to catch up and enjoy the evening. Aaron knew it was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the team as his girlfriend. 

As the doorbell rang, Rossi answered the door to find Hotch standing beside you. As you both entered the living room, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as Hotch introduced you with a genuine smile.

“I’d like you to meet Y/N, my girlfriend,” Hotch said, his voice steady but warm. 

The room fell into a stunned silence before erupting into excitement. Garcia’s face lit up with recognition and delight. “Oh my God! It’s Y/N! I knew it was someone! This is incredible!”

Morgan’s grin widened as he approached. “So, this is the elusive woman behind Hotch’s new smile! You’ve been keeping us in the dark for too long, Hotch.”

JJ smiled warmly as she extended her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N, we’re really happy for both of you.”

Reid, ever the profiler, couldn’t resist asking, “How long have you two been together?”

Hotch laughed softly, putting an arm around you and smiling fondly. “Almost five months now. Y/N works as the unit chief for the BSU in the academy. I met her when she invited me to guest lecture.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I knew it! You two have that perfect power couple vibe. We have to plan another get-together so we can hang out more!”

Rossi, enjoying the moment, gave Hotch a friendly pat on the back. “Well, I guess this means you won’t be around for poker nights as often.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’ll still make time for poker nights, don’t worry.”

As the evening continued, the team enjoyed getting to know you better. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, light-hearted teasing, and genuine happiness for Hotch and you.

“So, when do we get to do this again?” Garcia asked eagerly.

Hotch smiled, feeling content. “Soon. We’ve been talking about having you all over for dinner. Now seems like the perfect time.”

As the team chatted and enjoyed the evening, Aaron felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Introducing you to his team had been a significant step, but their warmth and support made it all worthwhile. The thought of merging his work family with his personal life filled him with quiet joy.

As the party wound down and the team began to leave, Morgan gave Hotch a sly grin. “You know, Hotch, we’re happy for you, but don’t think we won’t give you a hard time about keeping this a secret for so long.”

Hotch chuckled, appreciating the camaraderie. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, the team said their goodbyes and headed home, their spirits high. Hotch followed them, feeling grateful for the support of his team and looking forward to the future with you.

Mars speaks... (again) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Also, would anyone be interested if I wrote for other fandoms such as F1 and Marvel? Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

[avis-writeshq]

pairing: pre-seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, roommate au warnings: spencer and reader are roommates !!! reader wears Miss Dior. a/n: so very sorry for not posting in so long! got busy with extracurriculars and uni started up again :( big thank you to @januaryembrs and @hotchfiles for reading through this first !! wc: 1.04k you are on part 1! | part 2 | part 3

Spencer officially joins the BAU late July once he completed his time at the FBI academy. It wasn’t necessarily fair for the other agents who hoped and prayed that they would be the lucky someone who would get to join the extremely elusive Behavioural Analysis Unit upon graduation, especially because he was the one who was chosen by name by the esteemed Jason Gideon. It also wasn’t necessarily fair to get home after four long egregious months of constant movement and firearm training to his roommate.

“You’re home!” 

He grimaces a little bit, dropping his heavy suitcases and bags at the doorway with a heavy sigh. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’d bet! You’ve got more things than you left with!” You’re beaming, taking his new FBI registered duffle bag out of his hands and into the living room. “Your hair is so long now.”

“I feel like a wet dog,” he grumbles, pushing the strands out of his face. “Were you okay with rent? I’ll pay you back and everything–”

You laugh, shaking your head and pulling him to sit on the couch by the wrists. “It’s okay, Spence, relax. One of my friends needed a temporary place to stay, so I really only needed to pay a couple weeks of rent by myself. You’re probably starving, aren’t you? I’ve got pizza on the way.”

His cheeks burn at the contact, his throat going dry and his head almost as if it’s about to explode. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you repeat, beaming. Your fingers tug at the FBI windbreaker he’s sporting��� big on his shoulders and long at the hips. “This is new. You went shopping without me?”

“Gideon insisted I get more FBI uniform,” he explains hurriedly, “he said it’d made me feel more ‘official’. They didn’t have any more in my size.”

“It’s cute! Give us a spin, Walter.” 

He does it half-begrudgingly, rising from the couch pillows and doing an awkward spin. He used to be used to it, before he went away for four months to train at the academy. He’ll need to get re-used to it, he supposes. 

“You look very official,” you say with genuinity, grinning ear to ear. “Got anything else?”

His nose scrunches in distaste as he sits back down. “There’s meant to be more?”

“The uniform isn’t just a jacket, is it?” You ask with furrowed brows. “The bag is a nice touch, though.”

“They said that I should get the polo, but I don’t think I’d ever wear it,” he explains, going through his things. They’d all need a good wash, he decides, throwing his clothes onto the floor. “There isn’t a uniform policy at the BAU, though. Just to be clean and tidy.”

“You’re already a pro at that, aren’t you, Walter?” 

His cheeks glow at your jest and he kicks at the pile of clothes at his feet. “You don’t think I’m weird, do you?”

“Weird for… being clean and tidy?” You blink, poking at his shoulder. “If that’s what weird is, then I hope there are a lot of other guys who are weird.”

“That’s an oxymoron.”

“Exactly.” He catches your smile as you speak. “It’s not a bad thing to be different. You know that, don’t you?”

“In theory,” he responds vaguely.

You huff, “You ought to remember it with that big brain of yours.”

“There’s no significant correlation between brain size and intelligence,” Spencer reminds you again, shrugging his jacket off. “You should remember that, too.”

*** 

It’s an incredibly cold November morning, just a couple of days after Halloween, and Spencer has been tearing up and down the apartment in search of his windbreaker. The team are set for Alaska this time around, and though his sweaters and wool socks provide some warmth, it was nothing compared to the inner pockets of his FBI assigned windbreaker that hold heat warmers. 

“Have you seen it?” He asks hurriedly, rushing through the living room. “I need to leave in three minutes or I’ll miss my train–”

“Seen what?” You ask, frowning as you fill his travel mug with hot coffee and sugar. “What are you looking for?”

“My jacket,” he explains halfheartedly. “You know the one.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, moving to the bathroom and pulling it off the hook. “Spencer?”

He visibly relaxes, taking it from your hands with a hint of embarrassment. “Oh.”

“You let me borrow it after you picked me up from the Halloween party, don’t you remember?” The corners of your lips quirk upwards in jest as his expression shifts into that of realisation. “I put it behind the door so that you could find it easier. Not that it helped, clearly.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks pink in the light. “Thank you. See you later.”

“See you later,” you agree, and he’s already out the door, his jacket and travel mug in tow.

*** 

“Good morning,” JJ says, her bright blue eyes drowsy with sleep despite her greeting. “Are you guys ready to go?”

Spencer nods, zipping up the windbreaker and snapping the buttons together. Even in Virginia it’s still freezing. He doesn’t want to imagine how cold it’d be in Alaska. 

“Someone smells nice,” JJ chirps with a grin. “Is that– is that Miss Dior?”

“What?” Spencer sniffs, frowning. “Who?”

“The perfume?” She repeats the name, her brows flushed together. “I’m not crazy.”

“Is that Miss Dior?” Hotch asks in bemusement, sniffing the air. He looks at Jennifer with a mix of appreciation and a nod to say good taste. “Haley used to wear it all through college.”

“I’m not wearing it,” JJ insists, shaking her head with a laugh. “Spence?”

He’s barely paying attention to the conversation, frantically Googling an image of whatever the hell Miss Dior is. He’s met with the familiar rectangular bottle with pink liquid and a bow on the neck, something that he’s seen on your dresser multiple times. 

“My roommate,” he groans, covering his face with the palms of his hands. “She borrowed my jacket a couple days ago.”

“Ooh, a lady friend,” JJ snickers, “and she borrowed your jacket. How gentlemanly of you.”

Spencer sends you a long text message about the importance of not spraying perfume on clothes once he gets off the jet.

reblogs are always appreciated !!

you are on part 1! | part 2 | part 3

[aperrywilliams]

Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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

The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

----------

From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

---------

Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

---------

It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

-

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

-

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

-

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[reiderwriter]

hi!!! omg i’ve been following you for a bit now and i saw that it’s not only your 1k celebration(AHHHHHH OMG CONGRATS GIRL!!!) but also your birthday soon!!! So happy birthday and i hope you’re having a fantabulous day!!

If it’s not too much trouble, could i request #4 on your 1k celeb list for Spencer Reid? maybe like imagine they’re undercover in a club or at a party and reader has to dance on him for some odd reason and boy is already mad in love and now he’s got a hard on while his crush dances on him for a case and reader maybe takes mercy on him and drags him to a private place tooooooo😋😋

it’s totally okay if this isn’t to your fancy so don’t feel pressured at all!! i love your writing so much and i just know anything you write, even if you don’t write this ask or if you change it up, will be amazing!!! enjoy your birthday b and take loads of a care of yourself!💕💕

A/N: Thank you for the request, and I AM SO SORRY it took me nearly four months to get to 😭 I actually loved writing this one, so I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the birthday wishes 💖

Warnings: public sex, sex in an alleyway, talks of oral (m receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, creampie, coworkers to lovers, spoilers for upto season 7 of Criminal Minds.

“Cover? Right now? I'm wading through three caseloads of paperwork right now, I don't have time to go gallivanting across the country for another unit.” You stressed to your Unit Chief as she smiled sympathetically at you.

“Temporary reassignment means your desk will be cleared of work when you return, I'll personally complete it myself. That is if you decide to come back.”

“It would take one hell of an offer to get me to join another team, ma'am, and you know it.” 

Working under your boss Andi Swann at the Domestic Trafficking Task Force was something you took a lot of pride in. The work you did saved hundreds of women across the country, and you found justice for the ones you were too late for. It had been your second choice after you'd left the academy and a particularly ambitious one, all things considered. 

“Y/N, the Behavioural Analysis Unit needs you. Now, I remember your resume as well as you do, most likely, so don't try to convince me all of the profiling credits and courses you took at the academy were solely to be used for trafficking work.” 

You flushed as the woman caught you off guard. It was true that you hoped to someday be able to transfer to the aforementioned unit, but you truly still respected the woman in front of you. 

Deciding that your respect trumped your human need to placate her worries about you suddenly skipping out on her, you simply cleared your throat and spoke as calmly as possible. 

“What is it exactly that the BAU needs me for?” 

The older woman smiled back at you and shook her head slightly before opening her mouth again. 

“It seems that one of their team members needs a date.” 

–X– 

Having recovered from the shock of your reassignment and its details, you'd found yourself packing a few things from your desk, grabbing your go-bag, climbing into the elevator and arriving at the doors of the BAU.

You then struggled for a few minutes to open with all the things crowding your hands. 

“Here let me,” a voice said from behind you, as you suddenly saw an arm come up around your side to push the door open. You followed your gaze up the arm until your back was against the door, moving backwards even as he pushed it open as your throat went dry.

The man in front of you was hot. It was as if some deity had plucked your ideal type out of your mind, moulded him with clay, and kiln fired him before placing him right back in front of you as temptation.

You were sure that minutes had passed since he'd spoken with you just staring up at him like this, but alas, you really couldn't help yourself. 

“Oh! Thank you,” you smiled, hoping it would diffuse the sudden awkward atmosphere that your staring had bought on. “I'm sorry, can you tell me where Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner's office is?” You mumbled out, trying to clear your throat silently as you lost yourself in the strangers' gaze. 

His eyes were locked on yours, and as he broke eye contact, your heart jumped as you noticed his ears were stained red, embarrassment apparently not lost on him. 

“Up the stairs, first office, his name is on the door. You must be SSA Y/N.” Shocked to hear your name drop from his mouth  you felt a Rusholme mortification as you studied the man once again. 

Slightly messy hair, pile of books in his hand, dressed like he'd fallen into a closet at a retirement home, tall wiry frame. 

Ashley Seaver's description of Doctor Spencer Reid had been spot on. Apart from the part where she had failed to mention, he was quite possibly the most attractive man on earth. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked, voice a squeak, almost scared that you were wrong despite there being no suggestion that you might be.

“How did you…?” His eyes widened with a smile as he looked back to you again, searching for answers with his head cocked slightly to the side.

“I work in Domestic Trafficking. Agent Seaver and my unit chief both gave me brief descriptions of your team so I wouldn't get bogged down with introductions when I got here.” You explained quickly for fear that he'd think you slightly stalkerish for knowing his name, even though he obviously knew yours as well.

He smiled slightly awkwardly again  and gestured further inside the office, sending you off to your temporary new Unit Chief's office with a small whisper.

“I look forward to working with you.”

--X–

The debrief with Aaron Hotchner was swift  and you appreciated the man's ability to cut straight to the point. 

There was a killer targeting women in New York City, just like there were killers targeting women everywhere. But this one had taken specific issue with women who were social climbers, who attended events with high profile and successful men on their arms. 

So far, the NYPD could link 7 homicides to the killer and were under pressure to catch the guy before Lucky Number eight. 

The FBI had stepped in and suggested you be Lucky Number eight.

They'd been sent the case as a consult and provided the profile, to which the NYPD had asked for full cooperation. 

Which is how you found yourself on a jet heading to New York City two hours after Andi Swann had called you into her office. Productive day.

“What does your budget look like after a year of private jet travel?” You wondered out loud as you followed Hotchner onto the plane. SSA David had followed you onto the plane as well, having tried to introduce himself earlier. You'd allowed him the moment of humility before telling him you knew exactly who he was, and he'd be surprised if anyone in the entire bureau didn't. 

“Well they haven't put me on display yet, so I don't think I'm quite a fossil. Pleasure to be working with you.” 

His words were kind enough, but they were a reminder of the other man you'd met earlier. 

The man who had since climbed into the seat next to you, ready for the on the go case briefing.

“We've established identities for the two of you, ready for you to go in tonight to establish yourselves as bait,” Hotch explained, handing you each a personnel folder. 

“Spencer, you'll be Charles Buchanan, local businessman with alleged ties to several socialite families in the Upper East Side.” That seemed to earn a few chuckles from Agent Morgan from his perch at the other end of the plane desk, but he cleverly kept his mouth shut. 

“Y/N, you'll be Daisy Smith, you're a student putting herself through a graduate degree, who has turned to sugaring to cover course fees.” 

“Sugaring?” Rossi asked from Hotch's side, waiting for someone to clarify. 

“It's a term used to describe the act of being a sugar baby or sugar daddy. A usually non-sexual consensual relationship involving cash or other materialistic gifts.” Spencer filled in the gaps easily, without looking up from the file he was scanning ridiculously fast.

Okay, speed-reading and super intelligence check, and you were two for two on descriptions of Spencer Reid. Swann's description had also left a lot to be desired. 

“We've got Garcia establishing some online profiles for the both of you currently using the images you sent us earlier. Hopefully, we were correct in our estimation of his hunting grounds, but he'll need to stalk you for a night or two before he strikes.” 

You cleared your throat carefully as you finally decided to ask the question that had been bugging you the entire time.

“I'm sorry if this is forward, but is there a reason I was chosen for this assignment? I don't have much undercover experience, and I was told there were two women on your team. Was I misinformed?” 

“That's correct. Unfortunately, last week, Agent Prentiss decided to take a job with Interpol in London. Agent Jareau was also recently married, so she put in leave to enjoy her honeymoon. None of the candidates we have lined up fit our Unsub's type. You do.”

“As good as I would look in a dress, you're going to be much more effective at catching this guy,” Morgan joked from the side, just as Hotch accepted a video call through to the jet. 

“Morgan in a dress, sounds like one of my dreams come true.” 

“Calm it, baby girl, what have you got for us?”

“Invitations to a charity ball being held in Manhattan tonight, and around 1000 hits across five sugaring platforms for Miss Y/N. If the FBI turns out to be a letdown, you have a lot of serious offers here, sweetie.” You laughed out loud at how she blasted through and diffused all the tension in your team, without even thinking to introduce herself first. 

“You must be Penelope Garcia. It's nice to meet you.” 

“Not as nice as it is to meet you, I promise.” 

The remainder of the jet ride had been quiet if not restful, the presence of Spencer Reid a disturbingly pretty thorn in your side. 

You'd sneaked glances at him multiple times, not an easy feat on a jet filled with profilers. His fingers had grazed yours as he passed you his file earlier as well, letting you read up on his new character. 

What you found most distracting, though, was the now bare stretch of skin peaking out from his shirt collar. 

He'd decided to take a nap at some point earlier, and now you silently cursed him for it as you looked at the splash of skin distractedly. 

You could press your lips there and work your way up to his lips. Or you could go in the opposite direction and have more fun, you reminded yourself. 

It seemed that image had you waking up, jerking upright so that you would not let that go any further.

This was your job. You were a professional, an FBI agent. 

You weren't allowed to imagine giving this man a blow job on government time. You'd have to save that thought for after the case was closed, and you could go your separate ways, you thought.

Landing was easy  and you moved straight into dress fittings and practising your story for the party later that night. 

Which meant a blissful few hours without the distraction of Spencer Reid. 

Luckily for you, the first dress they'd given you to wear had turned out to be a good fit, showcasing some of your more prominent assets. 

It hugged your body tight, but it wasn't uncomfortable, showing off a generous amount of cleavage and leg as well. It wasn't quite scandalous, but you knew it was definitely the kind of outfit that would stick out like a sore thumb at a socialite dinner. 

Which meant it was perfect for baiting the unsub.

By 7pm, you'd been outfitted, prepped, and deposited in the back of a limousine with Spencer Reid, and you were right back at square one trying not to climb him then and there. 

His outfit choice had been slightly harder, apparently, given his taller frame, but the three piece suit they'd given him was do perfect it was hard to tell it wasn't tailored to his measurements. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, whispering the words in your ear as he stroked your hand. Although the limousine driver was an undercover NYPD detective, you'd both been told to get into character as quickly as possible. 

There were a series of other undercover agents being placed throughout the party tonight - Hotch was going in as a representative of the District Attorney's office, a few NYPD detectives were serving guests drinks and food, and Rossi had managed to get an invite as himself. 

Morgan was left running surveillance in the van outside. 

Because of your outfit and the nature of the unsubs attacks, there had been no point in trying to put a wire on you at this point in time. It'd take him a week of surveillance to pick you up anyway. Tonight would just be the start of his hunt. 

So you let Spencer stroke your hand, fingers locked in his as you gave him a smile, and tried not to imagine them wrapped around his cock. 

“Just a little. I think it's the dress  shows off a bit more than I'm used to.” He took a second to glance down your body, as if he'd been waiting for your permission until now, and you watched his eyes pause over your chest and at where the hem sat at the top of your thighs, dangerously close to bearing everything.

“You look… beautiful. I think our unsub will like it, at least.” 

You tried to hide your disappointment as he pulled his hand away, ready to open the door as the car pulled up to your destination. 

You surveyed the room as you walked in, trying to memorise every particularly leering smile from men as you made your way to your seat. 

After half an hour, though, it seemed like catching your guy was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. Or a creep in a room full of creeps. 

It seemed like every man who talked to Spencer only glanced at you to stare down your dress, a few even attempting to pat your back and let their hands drift south.

If it weren't for the sake of the job, you'd have sucker punched some of the richest men in New York City by now. And you'd have enjoyed it. 

Politely detaching himself from conversation, Spencer guided you away to the dance floor for a second. You'd planned it this way for when you needed some time privately to discuss potential suspects. 

A few other couples glided around the floor as you stood chest to chest with Spencer, surprised how confidently he was handling the caseload. 

His hands took their places, one on your hip, the other gripping your own as you both began to sway side to side. 

“Any ideas?” He whispered in your ear as you moved delicately. 

“Your 10 o’clock. Younger son of the Johnson family. He’s been sat glaring at me for 10 minutes despite his mother's attempts to network for him.” 

“It fits the profile, absent father, overbearing mother. He has obvious disdain for you. Is there anyone else?” His words were hot against your skin as you looked up at him, finding your lips surprisingly close as your bodies continued swaying together. 

“Half of the men in this room have undressed me with their eyes, the other half actually tried to put their hands on me when they were talking to you.” He stiffened at that, breaking eye contact as his eyes flashed with sudden emotion. 

His hand slid from your waist further down to stroke your ass slightly as he watched the crowd to see anyone taking offence at his sudden bold display of affection. 

At least that was what you assumed he was doing  as you too began to glance around, watching for anyone watching you, confident that Hotch, Rossi, and the others would do the same. 

When his hand on your ass pulled you closer into him, though, you weren't so sure. 

“Spencer, what are you-” You started in confusion, noticing that his gaze had returned to you. More specifically, that it had returned to your chest, as he stared down at how your breasts looked, pushed up against his chest as they were. 

He encouraged your other hand to wrap around his shoulder, freeing his other hand to land on your ass again as he pulled you closer still. 

You'd almost stopped moving, certain that having his body pressed against yours in every place hardly counted as dancing. You opened your mouth to say as much when you felt something twitch against your thigh. A low groan slipped from Spencer's lips as he adjusted your positions slightly as you felt something hard shift against your leg. 

“Do you seriously have a boner right now?” You whispered, as much in exasperation as in excitement. 

Spencer Reid was grinding his boner into you in front of a room full of people, and you felt like you'd just won the lottery. 

“I'm sorry, natural reaction. You look so hot tonight, and then your hands were all over me.” He rambled slightly in his explanations, mortification clear on his face as he tried to apologise. 

“It's okay.” You whispered in his ear, pulling yourself up on your toes softly to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

If you just so happened to rub up against him going up and down, eliciting another deep groan for the man, then so be it. 

“Y/N…” He whispered you name like a prayer and it almost convinced you that there was no one else in the room. 

“Spencer, there's no way our unsub is going to approach us if you have that thing tenting your pants.” You kept your voice low as your hands trailed down his chest. Pushing one further, you gently rubbed over his clothed member as if accentuating your point. 

“We need to solve this problem, don't you think?” 

His jaw clenched as he contemplated your words, trying not to let any other sounds out. His nod was barely perceptible, but within seconds you were glancing around the room for a quick exit, and in another minute, you'd slipped through a service entrance  and out through some corridors into a dimly lit alleyway. 

As soon as you were cloaked in darkness, Spencer was on you. 

Whirling you around, he backed you into the wall until your back was pressed into it, and his lips were on yours. 

You moaned helplessly into the kiss, hands finding his chest again and moving south even as he began exploring your body. 

“This is an important case, and we're about to blow it because I can't keep my hands off you,” he whispered between kisses, lips trailing down your neck. 

“Do you know how crazy we both must be?” 

“I know exactly how crazy for you I am, Reid. Now, please let me suck your dick.” You moaned the words as his fingers found their way into your panties, stroking your clit. 

“Y/N, I'm trying to talk sense into us here.” He groaned as your fingers fumbled with his pant buttons, hand sliding into the material to wrap around his cock.

“How much sense are you talking with your fingers inside me?” You panted, willing him to just fully let go and let you both enjoy yourselves. 

“While we're out here, Hotch and Rossi are inside, noting down anyone who takes particular offence to our exit. We can enjoy ourselves and catch a better lead.” You started slowly pumping him then, as he pushed closer into you, allowing you to reach more of him at this different angle.

His head dropped to your shoulder as he breathed out a laugh. 

“Right, this will help.” He tried to convince yourself, and you grinned in victory, rocking your hips against his hand to find your release sooner. 

Until he withdrew his hand and used it to grasp your own, halting your movements. 

“Spencer?” You pouted slightly, but he pressed another kiss to your lips  this time forceful and demanding, to guess begging permission to enter and dominate you. 

You gladly accepted him into your mouth, even as you felt him pushing up your skirt, letting the material ride higher as it had been trying to do all night. 

Making sure you were steady against the brick wall, he pulled your hips up and around his, pushing your panties to the side as he pushed inside of you. 

The stretch was maddening. Everywhere he touched became hot against the cool night breeze as he began his frenzied strokes into you. 

You lost all capability for speech, which was probably for the best, as you were sure you'd only ask for him to do more disgusting things to you eventually. 

His mouth slid to the top of your breasts as they bounced with each thrust, waiting to claim a nipple in his mouth when one eventually came free of the offending material. 

“Such a little slut, begging to suck my dick. Maybe next time, princess.” You screamed and arched your back as he finally bit down around your nipple, soothing the skin with his tongue as he licked and suckled there. 

His other hand fell to your clit again, pushing you to the edge as you finally came on his cock. 

He didn't stop though, powering through as you tightened around him, moaning wantonly as his thrusts hit deeper still.

“Let's see what our unsub thinks when he sees my cum dripping out of you,” he whispered again, as he too let himself go, releasing spurt after spurt of cum inside of you. 

Making sure you were strong enough, he set you back down on the ground, keeping an arm wrapped around you protectively as you smoothed your clothes back into place. 

You helped him button his pants as he smoothed your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear before ducking in for one more sweet kiss. 

“I'm sorry that I couldn't let you, uh, perform orally,” he blushed again, his ears that same shade of red you noticed earlier as he guided you back inside. “I think someone would have noticed if I'd ruined your makeup that much.”

You practically choked on your own spit as you finally slipped back into the dance hall.

“Next time,” you said, making sure to finish the conversation you'd started. “We’ll have more privacy.” 

[write-it-yourself]

I’m sure that following chapters after this will be amazing 😆

The thrill of killing you| BAU x Unsub reader

Introduction and about me:

I am new to tumblr, I go by she/her pronouns.

This story will be about an unsub reader and about the majority of BAU but will focus on Aaron Hotchner and Dr Spencer Reid.

In this story they reader (aka you) will be speaking both English, Dutch, and Swedish (I will translate all Dutch and Swedish into English)

Y/N is AFAB in this story.

There will be us of Y/N, cuss words and maybe smut (more likely then not). There will be mentions of murder.

While we know the BAU would most likely be able to catch reader quickly, this is going to be a bit like cat and mouse though.

There will be a little bit of Cat Adams mentioned and, in this world, Aaron never left criminal minds (but we still have Luke Alvez)

Reader was born in the Netherlands to Swedish and Dutch parents and moved to America at the age of ten. (that’s why both these languages will be used)

Chapter warnings: Animal death (of dears been hunted). Mention of guns (hunting rifle and glock). Badly written. Mentions of SA (it’s not graphic at all). Not proof read, sorry about that :)

A/N: there is no mention of the BAU in this chapter. This is basically a background story of the reader. The next chapter will include the BAU.

Also here in the link to a playlist that I feel unsub reader would listen to.

Chapter One: To the end

It wasn’t hard doing what you do. You had learnt how to hunt at an early age, it was fun. The thrill of going out with only a hunting rifle was exciting to you. You left your phone at your house; you didn’t want any distractions. See, hunting deer was a nice way to blow of steam, that moment when the life of an innocent animal was in your hands, you felt like a god. That deer couldn’t beg for its life, it couldn’t ask for mercy, it could just look at you.

 

So now when the people you are hunting could beg and plea with you, ‘please I don’t know why you are doing this, I’ve done nothing wrong.’ All you could do was laugh. Sure, tell yourself you haven’t done anything wrong, tell me you’re innocent.  Every person you had killed had done something wrong. They had hurt someone else and thought they could get away with it, and you could not let that happen.

 

Now the thrill of the hunt was better than ever, you know that phase where people say you’ll never experience a high, like your first ever high, that was a lie to you because every kill you did, brought you a sense of justice to this world, made you feel like you were doing something important. You no longer hunted deer, there was pity and sorrow in their eyes. Eyes that just gleamed innocence.

 

The only thing that was really different now to when you were just killing deer, is you did bring your phone. You brought it so you could listen to music. I mean it was a powerplay, you watched them cry and beg for their life, and you just put your headphones in. You watched how powerless they became; you saw the hope leave their eyes. And it felt amazing.

 

Your first kill (other than the deer) was a man called Michael O’Stevens. He seemed like a nice man, but he had sexually assaulted around 30 women, but after each one of those crimes he had committed he would go home to his wife and daughter. You couldn’t let him get away with that, but you wanted his wife to know why he had to die, why she was never going to see her husband again. So, you did the only logically thing and wrote her a letter.

 

“Dear Mrs O’Stevens.

 

I am sorry to inform you about your husband like this, but I can’t let you see who I am.

 

Your husband is not a nice man, he is not who you think he is. I’ve watched him, I’ve seen how he treats you and your daughter, but outside your house he is a completely different man.

 

He finds vulnerable women and hurts them. He takes them in his care and abuses them. He then throws them out like trash, like he hasn’t just caused them a great deal of trauma.

 

So, I’m sorry to write you this, but tomorrow will be the last time you see your husband alive. I won’t torture him, though he deserves it. I will just make him feel like those women, and then pull a trigger.

 

It may you hurt you, you may grieve him, but you deserve better.”

 

You knew better than to hand write it and send it through mail. You hand delivered it to her house in the early morning.

 

Killing Mr O’stevens was the easy part, but you needed a way of getting him away from the town he was living in.

 

So, the day after you sent Mrs O’stevens her letter, you dressed up like you had spent the night out drinking and walked down a road you knew Mr O’stevens frequently travelled. Your plan worked; I mean he was attracted to you like a moth to a flame.

 

He rolled down his car window and shouted;

 

“Hey, need a ride?”

 

You knew that you had to play hard to get, you knew that’s what he liked.

 

“Oh no, I am alright, thank you though.”

 

“I insist. It’s cold and quite frankly its dangerous to be walking alone.”

 

“I really don’t want to bother you; I live a far distance away.”

 

“You are not bothering me, please get in.”

“Erm, Okay.”

 

With that your plan was rolling into motion. You hid your gun, a .40 caliber glock, under your skirt. Though it was different to what you were used to, you couldn’t conceal a rifle.

 

He put his hand on your thigh and whisper in a low tone;

 

“I think you should repay me for been so kind to you. Don’t you?”

 

Oh, had he just asked the wrong person that.

 

“No, no I don’t.”

 

“Really? You think I should just allow you a free ride?”

 

“If you want me to get out, I can. But I am not repaying you shit, you offered.”

 

“Woah pretty lady, calm down. You only have to give me head, that’s all I want.”

 

“I am not giving you head.”

 

“Well, I didn’t really mean to ask you. I’m going to make you.”

 

He really was a piece of work.

 

“No, you are not. I am going to make you pay for all the other women you have hurt, you’re a sick son of a bitch. Now shut the fuck up and keep driving.”

 

You pulled the gun from under your skirt and held it to his head.

 

“I bet you think your wife is going to miss you. Huh? She won’t. Your daughter won’t even remember you. And your victims they’ll be glad you’re dead.”

 

He didn’t say a word for a while, he was crying though.


After around 20 minutes he spook:

 

“Why me? How did you find me?”

 

“I don’t reveal my secrets. Now keep going, you only have another 10 minutes left.”

 

You had made sure the spot you were in was quiet. No one would catch you in the act, it was the perfect spot.

 

He didn’t say another word, not until he was out of the car and on his knees.

 

“Please, please don’t kill me?”

 

“It’s a little too late to be begging for your life.”

 

“Please I am sorry, I won’t do it again.”

 

“You won’t do it again, because you won’t be alive.”

 

With that you put the gun to his temple and saw his eyes fill with fear.

 

“Maybe before you die, if you beg for forgiveness, you won’t face a miserable afterlife.”

 

With that you pulled the trigger. You saw the life drain from him. It was satisfying, you felt the same rush you had felt from killing those deer.

[fandomscombine]

Maybe This Time

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

BG: Aaron Hotchner has been a constant in your life since university and as you both journey in your prosecutor career. But what happens when he has been given the opportunity of his dreams to be part of the BAU on the other side of the country? How will your dynamic change? Especially when feelings are put into the mix. 

Fluff part for now, before the angst. Enjoy the build up, young Hotch and obliviousness to feelings.

A/N: First ever Aaron Hotchner fic since something clicked in my brain and this man has me in a chokehold. Okay when I started writing this, I was at the beginning of Season 4 of Criminal Minds after a year long hiatus (aka didn’t have Disney+), so please excuse if it’s a bit out of character and that it doesn’t align with canon. No Haley and Jack. Let me know what you think!

Inspired by the song Maybe This Time by Sarah G and a line from Ugly Betty lol.

WC: 1428

>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<

>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<

The problem with having a constant is that you don’t realize how much it means to you until something threatens it to change it. 

You’re coming up to two years working at the prosecutor’s office, the feeling of helping people and solving cases is what fuels you. Though you admit, there are days where this isn’t enough to block out the misogynistic atmosphere of the office. In all honesty, you don’t think you would have lasted as long in such an environment if it weren’t for Aaron Hotchner.

What started as an academic rivalry turned into being inseparable. Nerds with an overwhelming drive to fix the world. It was actually Aaron who offered the olive branch - admitting that while the constant competition and pettiness helped him be the best self on paper, was straining his mental and physical well-being. Turns out you both have a lot in common - same taste in literature and surprisingly dead-pan humor. The man’s ability to drop unexpected one-liners is beyond you, only to be topped by his laugh albeit rare. 

A genuine Aaron Hotchner chuckle easily fills an entire room as if you’re floating on a cloud - a laugh that is quite the opposite to what he just left out.

“What?” 

“Yes! Can you believe it?” Aaron exclaims, releasing his hold on your shoulders. “There’s an opening at the Behavioural Analysis Unit - nothing permanent yet but they’re looking into a pool for the perfect candidate and I’ve been shortlisted!” 

~

The training program at the BAU lasted 3 months and in that span, the excitement during the first few weeks had you and Aaron in constant communication despite him being across the country in Quantico. But as the weeks went on, the calls dwindled until there were none at all.

You were proud of your best friend, you truly are - having found an advancement in his career. Though you can’t shake off the empty feeling in your chest. You catch your mind often thinking about him lately - more than a friend should.

What is happening to you?

Aaron has been more than grateful to have this opportunity. Working under the mentorship of the BAU founders, Aaron knew coming in that the cases would be grueling. He's barely gotten a good 8 hours of sleep since he’s arrived but the nightly calls with you updating about his day was the only thing keeping him on powering through, channeling back to your school rival days. Well, at least then he would get to see your face daily - now all he has is the photo he has in his wallet.

“Suck it, Hotchner! Bow down to your superior!” 

“Never!”

“Says the Magna Cum Laude to the Summa Cum Laude. Face it - it’s in writing for the world to see!” You teased, it was always a blast to have Aaron red.  There was no way you were gonna let this down and Aaron knew that - charging at you before you could finish.

“Y/N L/N is smarter than Aaron Hotch-NERRRRRRRR!” Aaron picking you up and spinning caught you by surprise - hands instinctively looping around his neck. 

Neither of you notice the clicking of a camera, too enclosed in your own little world. 

“You’re one lucky man.” The comment breaks Aaron from his trance. 

“Sir?”

“Your girlfriend, I notice you step out and look at it whenever you’re stressed” Rossi says matter of factly, patting Aaron’s shoulder. One doesn’t have to be a profiler to notice that yearning on Aaron’s face. “You know the job takes a toll on everyone and it’s rare to see the lightness after a while.”

Aaron didn’t know how to react, his stare continued even after his boss had left. Girlfriend. His brain had momentarily stopped working when he heard of the word. Someone had thought you were his girlfriend - he didn’t correct them, and it felt good. 

~

Ever since Rossi’s comment, Aaron has been teetering back and forth about his recent discovery about himself. Because that’s the thing about you being a constant in his life, he had grouped his feelings for you and categorized them under ‘best friend’, effectively blinding himself from the evolution of his feelings. 

How can he be a good profiler when he can’t even read his own emotions? Does she even feel the same way? 

But that’s not even the biggest elephant in the room.

“Congratulations!” Hugging him tightly, your next words are muffled by his chest. “I know you've wanted this for so long.” Tilting your head up to meet his eyes, “I’m so proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten it if you didn’t push me in sending my application.” Aaron’s hold on your waist tightens, not wanting to let you an inch away from him. Aaron has just gotten back from a 6-hour flight from Quantico, his body begging for rest but his heart aching for your presence. 

The longing of months apart running through his brain and the next thing he knows, his feet have taken him to your apartment at 2 in the morning instead.

“Aaron?” you called, breaking him from his trance. “What’s on your mind?”

Aaron could help but chuckle. Of course even when he showed up unannounced and woke you up in the dead of night. Your first concern was about him.

Coming from a strict family and being the oldest, having someone worry about him was uncommon. So when these moments arrive, it hits him with full force.

“Nothing…” He exhales, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear. Aaron hopes you don’t feel how shaky his hands are as he does so. 

You raise your brows at him.  Aaron might be a man of few words, but you’ve known him long enough to know when he is holding back.

He sighs, the room is quiet and any wrong move would break the balance. Aaron cups your cheek, glancing from your lips to your eyes. He steels himself to lay his discovery out in the open. “It’s just…you’re so captivatingly beautiful.”

Your eyes widen. Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Aaron has called you pretty in the past, but there was an air of playfulness then compared to this whispered statement.

With the tension increasing ten-fold with each word. “These past few months, I was working at my dream job yet I couldn’t feel the best because you weren’t by my side.  Each night I looked forward to hearing your voice, whether it’s about how your day went or what you thought about the latest movie. And it killed me inside when the calls stopped…”

Aaron gulped, pausing to blink back tears that threaten to fall. 

Reaching up to grab his hand, you placed a kiss on his palm. Silently urging him to carry on and to say ‘me too’.

“I felt so guilty… then one day my boss caught me staring at a picture of us. He said that I was lucky to have a lovely girlfriend as an anchor to help in this grueling job and… I didn’t correct him.”

“You didn’t correct him?”

“I didn’t.” Aaron was now looking at his feet- embarrassed, mentally preparing for the rejection that was to come for letting his mind wander to the possibility of something more with you. He had crossed the line and placed his heart in your hands. “ At first I didn’t know how to react, you are my best friend, my constant support. But at that moment, everything became clearer.” Aaron confessed, however your response may be he will accept even if it would be the last ever time he gets to hold you in his arms. “Y/N. You’re my best friend, my constant support and I adore you.”

A beat passes as you process his words. 

“I’m sorry to spring this on you considering the circumstances. I understand if you want to keep a distance and not want to see me again.” Aaron steps back, takes one last look at you before turning to pick up his bag and leave. 

But as his hand reaches the doorknob, he is abruptly turned and pushed against the door. His gasp of pain is muffled by the crashing of your lips. Aaron drops his bag and instinctively pulls you closer. Air to breathe and the doorknob pocking his back be damned.

You were the first to pull away just enough that your lips brush each other’s. “I know you’re leaving in five months. And I know everyone’s gonna say it’s a big mistake. And I’m gonna get my heart broken but maybe it’s worth it.”