#bits of Moreid

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

Fic idea!

Spencer, the oblivious twit, is having a groundhog day experience. While initially he was alarmed, because this is impossible, after a couple days he settles a bit (ignoring the scary thought of 'is this indefinite? Am I destined to repeat this day over and over and over like a boring version of the doctor's confession dial?).

But he has time to really research and learn a bunch more. First he's a bit wary of fobbing off work, because what if this day is the final day of repeats and he makes a mess of the actual tomorrow?

But as time goes on and today leads into the same today each day, he gives in, he calls in sick, and he chills the hell out. Spencer didn't even know what truly relaxing could be like until he'd called in sick 30 times the same day in a row. But now he's got the bulk of another language under his belt (conversationally verbal, he'd hand cramped last time he tried a written language in the time loop).

Then the days where he goes back into work for a bit of a break, he's still learning, but through fresher eyes. Like now, he appreciates that Hotch may cut him off in times of stress, but he'll prompt Spencer to say the same thing later when there is time (I didn't forget, it wasn't the place or time. What was that about popcorn smell in the jungle from an animal??').

And he sees that when he's particularly annoyed, Penelope is out of her office more when given the chance. Not to press him too much for information (though she certainly does a bit; it's how she cares) but rather to guide attention from him to her, giving him space to breathe and grieve the possibility that this might be his forever now, this day, ordinary Tuesday where they're not even in a fun destination. And all the while, she seems to surreptitiously glance and stare as best she can to see if he's better now that he's had his own bubble.

It'd taken him a couple days to figure out who was leaving him sugary teas on his desk when he couldn't hide his anger, but he caught Prentiss squinting at the bull pen from the kitchen to make sure no one was looking at her before she left it for him. He thought, when his mood was sour, that she apparently wouldn't be caught dead doing something nice for him, heaven forbid. But when he calmed down he realised she just wanted to quietly help because he didn't like or accept well any other kind of help. And she probably didn't want praise for it, she just wanted her friend to feel better. She didn't want a thing to be made of it.

And though all those things calmed his mind and warmed his heart, what made him most pleased, most content, was Derek. How he would check in on him full of jokes with a thread of sincerity carefully woven in and unmissable. How it showed he knew Spencer was struggling with something and showed he was aware and cared, but didn't want to pressure Spencer or draw too much attention to it since he knew Spencer wouldn't like it.

How on the days that went so well Spencer tried to have them repeat the same way, he and Derek got so close Spencer became aware that he didn't know if he was projecting his feelings onto Derek or if Derek might actually feel the same.

And then, on the last day, he was so painfully aware that he wasn't projecting. That his colleagues, his friends, were the best people he knew, and he was so sick of learning how deeply they cared for him but not being able to reciprocate in tangible way. Because tomorrow would be today again and again and again it seemed, and he'd never be able to show that he knows.

He knows how much they care. How much they all do for him and each other, more aware than he's ever been. He knows now, almost the most painfully, how much he and Derek Morgan must be sick for each other and he's done with it. He can't spend his life building on relationships the way he now wants to if every day is this god damn Tuesday. And then it's Wednesday.

[cmincorrrctquotes]

Morgan: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Reid: How am I supposed to know?

Garcia: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge on everything.

Reid: *sighs*

Reid: You wouldn't be trapped. Theoretically speaking, any and all effect a Voodoo Doll has on it's likeness can only come from pins, so falling and/or sitting on it would not satisfy the requirement.

[justjasper]

Hii! Love your writing!

Moreid prompt : "Why do you keep doing this?"

"Why do you keep doing this?" Morgan raised his eyebrows over the lip of his cup.

"Doing what, Reid?" "Bringing me coffee." "You like coffee." "Yeah, but we all like coffee." Morgan leaned back in his chair, waiting. Reid was worrying the top of his to-go mug, clearly thinking hard.

"But you don't buy them coffee with nearly the frequency that you do for me." "Okay genius, you tell me why you think I buy you coffee more than the rest of the team." Reid was watching him, slipping into profiler-mode. "Show your workings." "We're friends, but you're also friends with the rest of the team. Maybe you consider me a closer friend them them, but I think I'm on a parr with Prentiss and nobody holds a candle to your friendship with Garcia."

Morgan grinned, shrugged the acceptance of the statement.

"My coffee order is cheap, but you've never been frugal when you're using gifts to show affection, and we earn the same, so you wouldn't assume I can't afford my own coffee." "So what does that leave, Reid?" Reid was frowning, thinking. "Unless..." "You got it?"

"Morgan. Are you...?"

Morgan just raised his eyebrow. Reid went very pink very quickly, fumbling for a file on his desk and almost spilling his coffee in the process.

"I have to get these files, ah, to JJ, she'll--" Morgan grinned, watching Reid hurrying away.

[teawan]

ok. so i've been having a little bit of trouble getting behind moreid since im not that far into the show anyway but. just witnessed morgan calling reid pretty boy. with his whole chest. a cocky smile on his face.

[eidetic187]

Derailed is such a banger man pretty much all of season 1 is a banger

[frankiebirds]

[boldlyvoid]

I Know Places: Roadkill

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: Once again, Aaron puts himself in harm's way. Once again, reader scolds him for it. Bickering like an old married couple in front of the whole team, it becomes glaringly obvious that they're more than just coworkers now.

Warnings: background Moreid, Canon Typical Violence (mentions of possible rape, car accidents, hit and runs, murder) angst with a happy ending, arguing, worrying, makeup sex (first time together) teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampies.

Word count: 14.9k

Not much changes between them at work. They’re still acting as professionally as possible, only now with longing stares all across the country and only one bed during their hotel stays.

In the last few weeks, they’ve had 4 cases. Each has gone by as smoothly as possible, without accidents or escapes or injuries. And Aaron’s stopped obsessing over Foyet, for the most part. He still reads the files when he has free time and he asks Penelope to add new perimeters to her searches, but other than that, he’s taken a bit of the weight off his shoulders to share with the rest of the team when the time comes. 

Everyone knows they’ve just not filed the paperwork because it’s a hassle and Strauss, their section Chief would find some way to make it a problem. She’ll find out eventually, but until then, they’re just going with the flow, experiencing life together as a happy couple as long as they can. 

He hasn’t told Haley yet, either. Seeing as she doesn’t want to admit that Conrad— her “friend” who’s always over during pick up and drop offs with Jack— is actually her boyfriend, they don’t have to tell her that they’re anything more than friends either. Jack likes Y/N, he holds her hand at the park and always asks if she can stay for a sleepover when he’s spending the night at his dad's. It’s the sweetest thing. 

Every morning that they’re in Quantico, they meet at the round table at 10 am to prep new cases. They come in to work together at 8:30, holding hands while carrying coffee in their other. When they get up to Aaron’s office, JJ is in there with a file and an awkward, press-lipped smile on her face. 

“What’s up?” He asks, letting go of her hand and walking over to his desk. 

“Police in Bend, Oregon have asked for our help… this unsub is running people over with his car, there’s been two victims in the last 12 days,” she explains. 

“Okay, I’ll look over the file and we’ll meet in the briefing room early today, tell the others 9:30 at the latest,” Hotch orders. 

“Got it,” she picks up her things and starts to leave. She pats Y/N on the arm with a knowing smile, “See you out there.” 

“You certainly will,” she smiles back at her. “Actually, I’m going to go help her photocopy everything and get ready, I’ll see you in there?” 

“Okay,” Aaron nods. “Save me a seat.” 

“Beside me as always,” she teases him one last time before heading out. 

She’s so cute, he just shakes his head, watching from the window as she skips down a couple of steps and heads over to her desk. She says hi to Anderson and waves at a few people before following JJ up to the briefing room to make photocopies. He is so in love with her it makes him feel a little crazy. He has work to do, but his mind is stuck on her. He’s happy. At his desk. He's... happy? 

For the first time in his life, he’s happy while at work.

And everyone knows it too. He’s staying at work less, still keeping up with his paperwork somehow, coming in a little later in the mornings, and he’s smiling more often. He’s heard the rumours and the mumblings, he knows people think he’s like this cause he’s getting laid again… but the truth is they haven’t. 

He sleeps at her house, she sleeps at his, they sleep in the same bed on cases and they’ve come close to it before, but they haven’t had sex yet. Neither one of them has brought it up yet. 

The first week they were together, they were busy on a case. The second week they had a pretty gross case and neither one of them was in the mood after it and then he had Jack all weekend. Then last week, she was on her period and he was happy to dote on her and give her a massage and cover her in kisses before sleeping beside her and holding her close but not too tight. He loves her so much, this relationship is so much more than just physical… he’s only had sex with 1 woman in his whole life, and even then, it took them over a year to do it because they were in high school. 

This is just what he’s used to. He’ll be ready whenever she asks, he doesn’t need it… does he crave it? A little. She’s beautiful. He has to see her in action with her shirt rolled up and her bulletproof vest on. He sees her manhandle creeps and cuff them, sometimes even fight them a little. He listens to her give orders and put people in their place. Of course, he wants her. But he knows how to wait. He’s a patient man. 

He has to shake all the thoughts out of his mind before he cracks open the case file. He takes another sip of his coffee and starts to read over the police report. He looks at the photos, the coroner's report, the witness statements and everything else JJ thought was important to include. 

This is a weird one. He’s never seen a serial killer who favours vehicular homicide. Most of them want to do the killing themselves, they want to use their hands and feel the glory. This guy might not even be a guy. It could be a woman, using a vehicle might give her the power she lacks. The way they’ve been hit, backed over and hit again… that’s anger that comes from planning and a desire to kill. It’s unlikely that these are just victims of happenstance, this killer is calculated and these women that died were chosen for a reason. 

He gathers all his things and meets the others in the briefing room, Derek, Spencer and Dave have yet to show up but they’ll be in soon. Right now, it’s just the girls. 

“And then— oh, sorry, sir,” Penelope stops whatever she was saying as she sees him. 

“On, no, it’s okay. You can keep talking… unless you don’t want me to know?” He hesitates to sit down, he’d leave if they needed him to. 

“No, it’s fine,” she sighs. “Kevin is interviewing with the NSA for a new job and he can’t even tell me where he’s going if he gets it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he feels terrible for her. Long distance sucks. But he sits down, ready to listen, wanting to be there for her and offer some wisdom if she wants it. 

“I hate this. I hate not knowing what’s going to happen. What if he never comes home? What if I can’t talk to him? What if he breaks up with me right before he goes and then I never hear from him again? I’m not ready to just lose someone in my life permanently.” 

“You’re Penelope Garcia,” he reminds her. “You can easily find out where he’s going… and you can easily stop transfers from going through, remember you held mine up so I could stay here?” 

She nods, “I still feel sorry about that, sir, I didn’t mean to start things with you at home.” 

“It’s okay, I’m much happier now,” he smiles over to Y/N. “I wouldn’t have my beautiful girlfriend if I still had a wife.” 

“Very funny,” Y/N can’t believe he said that. She laughs and shakes her head, she licks her lips and laughs again. “You really just said that?” 

“And I mean it,” he teases, reaching over for her hand. He brings it up to his lips and kisses her hand, making the other two women swoon a bit. 

“Hotch, I had no idea you were a romantic,” JJ teases him. “Were you always like this?” 

He shrugs, “I was a teenager the last time I was in love like this.” 

“In love?” They hear Derek's voice as he and Reid come through the door. “What did I miss?” 

“Nothing,” Y/N waves it off, trying desperately not to be the centre of attention. “We’re just talking about our relationships, anything you two want to share?” 

“no—“ Derek starts but Spencer sits beside her and smiles. 

“Derek’s never not been the sharing type and then he started dating me and now he’s like Fort Knox about it all,” Spencer teases. 

“Hey,” Derek sits beside him and swats his arm. “It’s because I love you, you’re not some rando who came home with me once.” 

“And what an honour that is,” Spencer teases again. 

Derek’s just about to say something when they hear the whistling. Dave comes in with his coffee and the remnants of a lipstick stain on his cheek and sits down in the only empty spot left. “What’ve we got today?” 

Everyone shares a few looks and knowing smiles, but Aaron answers. “A weird one in Bend, Oregon.” 

“An unsub who kills with his car,” Y/N adds. 

“They’ve had two victims in the last 12 days,” Hotch explains while they all open their files and have a look.

JJ stands, holding the remote for the projector, She starts to show them their victims. 23-year-old Maria Delgado was stuck while out on a jog and the second, a stranded motorist, Shannon Makely, 43. 

“What makes the locals think that they were connected?” Derek asks. 

“For one thing, they were both backed over after the initial impact,” JJ explains, showing them the photos again which makes Penelope shield her eyes. 

“No accident there,” Dave grumbles, cheerful mood already gone. 

“Plus, the treads found at both scenes match. Large vehicle, all-terrain,” Aaron adds but doesn’t cover all of it. 

JJ moves to more photos on the screen, the ME report as well, “Wounds also indicate a raised bumper, so they’re thinking a large SUV or a truck.” 

“Do they know the model or make?” Spencer asks. 

She shakes her head, “Tyres aren’t factory issues. They could be on a number of different vehicles.” 

“And no witness at either incident?” Y/N asks, flipping through the file, not finding anything. 

“No, just the unlucky people who came across the bodies after it had already happened,” JJ sighs.

“A hit-and-run is loud, usually they draw attention. Somebody usually sees something,” Rossi says, posing the question they’re all thinking. How did no one see it happen?

“Both victims were attacked in secluded areas,” JJ explains further. 

“Two tones of metal make a hell of a weapon,” Derek says with a shake of his head, disgusted by the lengths these killers go through.

“Serial killers have been known to become rather attached to their vehicles,” Spencer throws in. “Bittaker and Norris even gave theirs a nickname—

“murder Mack,” Rossi finishes for him. 

“Bittaker and Norris were sexual sadists. There’s no sign of torture here,” Hotch reminds them.

“Sounds like a thrill kill?” Y/N proposes. “Opportunistic.” 

“Easy targets, randomly selected,” Dave agrees. 

“With this type of impact, vehicles shouldn’t be hard to pick out from a lineup,” Derek concludes. 

“Yeah, there should be significant front-end damage,” Spencer backs him up. 

“Somehow I don’t think this is gonna be that easy,” Dave says, closing his file. 

“I contacted the pilot already, the jet is ready whenever we are,” JJ informs them, closing down the screen as they all get ready to go. 

“Wheels up in 20.” 

—

“I think it's safe to assume this unsub is a male,” Y/N says as soon as the conversation picks back up on the plane. 

“I agree with you, given what we know,” Hotch nods, reading over the file again. “At first I thought maybe it could be a woman, using a car to feel powerful but with the amount of road rage and aggression we see in men, it’s less likely it would be a woman doing this.” 

“It’s also just too messy,” Spencer adds for good measure. 

“Exactly.” 

“And men have an unnatural bond with their cars,” Y/N jokingly reminds everyone. 

“That is true,” JJ gets it. 

“Wait a minute, I don't know about unnatural?” Derek feels offended. 

“I once dated a guy who washed his car more than he washed his hair,” JJ stares him down until he gives in. 

“A nice car needs love,” Rossi pipes up. Derek points at him cause he gets it. 

“And a woman doesn’t?” JJ just blinks, not believing what she’s hearing. 

“I’m not qualified to answer that,” Rossi teases, making them all laugh. 

“I’m just saying, big car… that’s phallic?” Y/N shrugs, looking at Aaron. 

“So he’s compensating?” Aaron poses. 

“Or overcompensating,” Spencer corrects. 

“Impotent?” Derek suggests. 

“Possibly, i-if the unsub sees himself as physically defective the car not only gives him the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield,” Spencer further explains. 

“A way to avoid physical contact?” Hotch asks. 

“Power and control,” Y/N starts to put the pieces together out loud. “Female victims… that almost reads like a rape profile.” 

“Vehicular rape,” Rossi says, taken aback by the mere thought. 

“Rape and thrill kill are two very different profiles,” Derek reminds them. 

“What does victimology tell us?” Hotch asks. 

“Nothing yet,” JJ shrugs, filling through the pages in her file but coming up short. “Shannon Makely was a white, married, 43-year-old commodities trader and Maria Delgado was a 23-year-old Hispanic graduate student and competitive triathlete.” 

“So far gender is our only link,” Hotch agrees. “Hopefully the crime scenes will tell us more… when we get there, Morgan and Rossi you can go to the Makely crime scene. Y/N and I will go to Delgados and then Reid, you and JJ can hit up the ME and then head to the station to set up the boards.” 

“Why do you two get to do everything together?” Spencer whines. 

“Because you’re the doctor, you need to go and pick out shit the coroner missed and Derek is the best at retracing steps, no offence Rossi,” Y/N answers on Aaron’s behalf. 

“None taken. Out of all of you, Derek reminds me the most of what me and Gideon were like in the beginning,” Dave gives him a small smile. 

“He was a great teacher,” Derek says. “But it’s fine, we’re still partnered up in the hotels, right?” 

“Yep,” JJ tries not to smile. “I’ve got you guys in a room with just one queen, down the hall from the rest of us, too.” 

The rest of them smirk too, while Y/N and Aaron haven’t even bothered to get sexual yet, those two weren’t hiding anything. Between strange noises in the middle of the night and the rhythmic knocking of a bed frame on shared walls… it was pretty obvious that the good doctor and Derek Morgan were having a lot of fun together. 

—

When they touch down, they separate into 3 SUVs on the tarmac and make their way from the small local airport 3 towns over all the way to Bend. Aaron and Y/N get a call from one of the local cops, Detective Feder, who is going to meet them at the jogging trail and walk them through everything. The main detective, Quinn, is with Rossi and Morgan at the most recent crime scene. 

It’ll take them about 45 minutes to get there, though the winding country roads on this side of the country are nice, so it’s no big deal. The trees make for nice shade and the shade brings a cool breeze too, when just one state south they’d be in the disgusting heat of California. They have the windows down, the music on low, Aaron holds her hand as he drives and she looks out the window at the scenery. It’s a nice break from the horrors of their job. 

When they arrive, the cop is leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting. He gives them a tight-lipped smile when they pull up, parking right behind him, they get out at the same time. 

“Hey,” the cop waves. “Detective Feder, nice to meet you.” 

He shakes Aarons hand first, “Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Y/L/N.” 

“Hi,” she smiles while shaking his hand. “Hope you weren’t waiting long?” 

“Nah, I just pulled up not 5 minutes ago,” he waves it off. “Follow me,” he says, leading them behind his squad car and towards the trail. “It’s not a very popular jogging area. There aren’t too many people who can take that hill coming up here.” 

“Well, she was a triathlete,” Y/N reminds him. 

“We figured she jogged in off the main road, headed for the trail up here,” he points to the side. When he gets to the bloody spot on the concrete he stops. “The assailant drove in behind her, and ran her down right here.” 

“Uh… a woman jogging alone, no… she would’ve known if someone was tailing her,” Y/N states, speaking from a woman’s point of view, she knows what it's like to be on high alert at all times. 

“So maybe he was already here?” Aaron proposes. Looking around, there’s a big red garbage bin that’s been dropped off and what looks to be construction equipment set up behind a fence. “What’s the story with all this equipment?” 

“Construction stalled out months ago, no reason for anyone to be up here,” Feder explains. 

Aaron keeps walking, behind the garbage bin, “it’s nice and quiet. It's the ideal spot to wait to run somebody down without being seen.” 

“A little convenient,” Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“Too convenient,” Aaron agrees. “What if it was her? What if she were the reason he was up here?” 

“You don’t think this was a random attack?” Y/N’s almost shocked to hear him say that. 

He shakes his head and kneels down to look at the dirt, “oil,” he points, pressing his finger into the darkened wet patch and showing them. “He was lying in wait.”

“Shit,” Feder sighs, he can’t believe they missed these signs. “Okay. We should regroup at the station.” 

“We’ll call our guys,” Y/N says, going to take out her phone. “On second thought… there’s no service.” 

“Yeah most of the county has terrible service,” Feder shrugs. “I’ll radio it in for you, Quinn should get it.” 

“Thanks," Aaron gives him a small smile and then motions with his head towards their car to get Y/N to follow. 

—

“He may have specifically targeted these women,” Hotch proposes to the others as soon as he sits down at the table. 

Y/N and JJ were off talking to family, Derek was on a coffee run, leaving him with the lead detective, Spencer and Dave. 

“That takes thrill-kill off the table,” Rossi sits back, wanting to hear everything hotch learned at the first crime scene. Cause that’s how they worked best, going backwards. 

“Because the murders were planned in advance?” Quinn asked. 

“Yeah,” Spencer hesitates, looking at his board with everything he’s mapped out so far. “This type of stalking behaviour indicates a personal motive. There’s a reason he chose these victims.” 

“So you think he knows them?” Quinn follows up, wanting to get a look inside the genius' brain. That’s exactly why he called them in for this with only two murders and not the typical 3 killings that would garner their attention. 

“Well, he knew their work schedules, jogging routes, drive patterns,” Hotch points out. 

“That would explain how he knew where to strike,” Spencer adds. 

“Explains the Delgado girl, she was on a run, but he could’ve known Shannon Makely’s car was gonna break down out there?” Quinn says, having a hard time thinking outside the box, unlike the rest of them. 

“Did you look at her car?” Rossi asks. 

“Guys at impound said that it was a water pump that blew, said it’s a common enough problem,” Quinn explains. 

“Maybe we should take a closer look?” Rossi suggests.

“Why don’t you head over there?” Aaron agrees, sending the best man for that job. Dave was a car guy, he had fixed up countless classics, and he’d know how to talk shop better than the rest of them. “Let me know what you find.” 

Right as Dave starts to stand up, Y/N comes rushing over to the table, “Shannon Makely’s husband is here.” 

Hotch had requested to talk to him when he arrived, he had questions to ask and hearing them from another man might make it go by easier. Whereas the mother of Maria Delgado would’ve done better with the girls, that’s why he had them speak to her first. 

“Okay, thanks,” he starts to stand, “you want to join us?” He asks Detective Quinn. 

He nods, standing with him. They all head into an office, Mr. Makely is already in there waiting for them, his eyes puffy and red, he’s been crying. Probably a lot. That was a given. Aaron’s not sure how he’d react if his wife— ex-wife died. Even after everything they’ve been through, he’d probably be devastated too. 

“I just want it to make sense,” Mr. Makely cries. “But this…” he doesn’t know what to say. 

“We may be able to make some sense of this with your help,” Y/N offers, her kindest voice on display. She hands him a photo of Maria Delgado. “Do you recognize that woman?” 

He stares for a mere second and shakes his head. Gripping his water bottle like his life depended on it, “No. Should I?” 

“She was the first victim,” Y/N explains. “We’re trying to determine if she was connected to your wife in some way.” 

“Connected?” He asks, having a hard time processing everything. 

“We think he may have been following them. Gathering information,” Aaron adds. “Did Shannon ever mention or notice anyone?”

“No…” his brows furrow as he thinks back as far as he can but his mind is clearly shadowed by grief. 

“Did you ever notice anyone out of the ordinary in your neighbourhood?” She asks, watching him shake his head. “Maybe someone who was walking or driving by the house repeatedly?” 

He keeps shaking his head, he really doesn’t think so. 

“What about a truck? Or a large SUV?” Hotch asks. 

His brows narrow then, his eyes wander back and forth as he puts some pieces together, “Thursday, I was expecting a package, I kept checking the street and there was a truck parked a couple of houses down. I didn’t recognize it.” 

“Could you see anyone inside?” Aaron asks. 

He shakes his head again, kicking himself, “I couldn’t tell, the windows were blacked out.”

“Tinted?” Aaron repeats in a different phrasing, looking to Y/N and then back to him. 

“Yeah, only all the way around, like you see with limousines,” he explains better. He rubs his mouth then, trying his hardest to think back, he visibly hates himself for not remembering more. 

Aaron gives him a moment and then asks one last question. “Do you think that you would recognize the truck if you saw it again?” 

He sniffles and then clears his throat, pulling himself together, he nods, “Mhm, maybe?” 

And so they get him pictures of trucks, makes and models, they print off so many pictures they have to bring in more paper. This is the most this department's printer has ever gone off, as it would seem. 

Dave was back from the mechanic pretty soon thereafter, they were behind on things and asked him to come back in a few hours, meaning Aaron could go with him this time. 

The mechanic working on the little red car pops the hood and brings them around to look, “we figured it was the water pump because it was pretty much melted but what we didn’t figure out on this—“ he pulls forward a piece of rubber tubing with a slit cut through it. 

“This car's pretty new, that wouldn’t be normal wear and tear, would it?” Aaron asks. 

“No, the rest of the lines in good condition,” he explains. “Someone punctured it. You can tell from the smooth edge.”

Aaron leans in to get a better look, “How did they do it?” 

“Probably reached the blade right through the grill. Penknife, something like that,” he hypothesizes. 

“Wouldn’t’ve even had to pop the hood,” Rossi tisks, shaking his head. Theres nothing he hasn’t seen. “And then she drove away without water in the radiator, it explains the overheating.” 

“It explains the pump, too,” The mechanic adds. 

“Could someone possibly gauge how far she could’ve travelled with a car in this condition?” Hotch asks one last question to chase his theory. 

He presses his lips together and shrugs, “Someone who knows cars could make an educated guess, I suppose.” 

“Thank you,” Aaron reaches over to shake his hand, that’s everything he needed. 

Dave does the same thing, shaking the man's hand before the two of them head off back towards their own car. “Sabotage. This guys more focused than we thought. Well organized, highly motivated.” 

“By what though?” Aaron asks, still stuck on that part. “What do these women have in common?” 

“Different ages, appearance, social status. He’s not hunting a specific type,” Dave recounts. 

“Their only connection is the unsub. There has to have been contact before the attacks,” Hotch says, going back on what they’ve profiled before. 

Rossi picks that us, “but we profiled a guy who would be afraid of contact? The trucks a shield.” 

“Maybe the contacts are incidental. There’s something he perceives in their exchange. Something about his perception triggers his fixation,” Hotch explains. “Could be the way she looks at him, something she says, or even something as trivial as what she’s wearing… whatever it is, the victims have no idea what they’ve set in motion.” 

—

Visiting the crime scenes, and talking with loved ones and the mechanic was really all they could do that day. The team goes out for dinner together around 6 and by 8 they’re all in their hotel rooms with nothing to do for 12 hours— or when another kill comes in. 

Y/N and Aaron have a room with two beds, like always, one to sleep in together and one for all their bags to sit on. They change, they get into bed together and by 9pm they’re cuddled into each other and absolutely exhausted. It’s midnight back home, they’d normally still be up at this time but still, all the travel and the emotional toll of talking to victim's families has them pretty wiped out. 

He loves this time of night, the way they cuddle and how she fits next to him like she’s the other half of his puzzle. They talk a little, about the case and also about nothing serious at all. He loves this part of the night, when they’re tucked away in some random bed in a random town in America… he never thought he’d have this. 

He never imagined one day he wouldn’t be with Haley, and even if he did, he never thought he’d be happy without her. So much of his marriage with her was good, he loved coming home to a cuddle and a good night's sleep. But on the other end, he spent a lot of nights completely alone. He would cuddle his pillow and have terrible sleep only to wake up grumpy and keep searching for another psychopath. 

Now, he gets to sleep beside his girlfriend whom he loves so much every single night, no matter where he is. Dating someone on his team was not something he thought would ever happen. He had no idea the joy that dating someone at work could bring him. 

“I love you,” he whispers before kissing the back of her neck. 

“I love you,” she replies, he can hear the smile on her face. 

He holds her a bit tighter, snuggling in against her more, “This is so nice to get to sleep beside you on nights like this.” 

“Oh, Aaron,” she has her hand over his, and she squeezes him lovingly. 

“I mean it… after talking to Shannon Makely’s husband today, I’m just, I’m really glad I have you.” 

She wiggles out of his grip and for a moment he fears that she doesn’t feel the same, instead, she turns to face him. Even in the dark, he can make out her features. He holds her close once more, chest to chest this time, and she smiles. She cups his face and leans in for a quick kiss. 

“I feel the same… but I have a question?” 

“Okay?” 

“If something happened to you, would you want me to talk to Haley?” She asks. “And I’m not talking if you die, I mean, if you’re stabbed or shot or taken hostage, do you want me to talk to her or should that conversation come from Rossi or Strauss?” 

“Oh,” he’s never thought about that. “I’d want you to tell her. I mean, she knows we're close so she probably expects it to be you… but if I ever do die on the job, I definitely want it to be you who talks to her. I want you to be the one to give them access to my apartment and make sure Jack gets all my things and that my funeral goes smoothly.” 

She doesn’t say anything, but her breathing picks up and he can tell she’s trying hard not to cry. “Okay.” 

He simply pulls her in closer and rests his cheek off the top of her head, “but that’s not going to happen.” 

“I know.” 

“And if it’s ever the other way around if it’s Haley who dies before me, I want you to be with me if I have to go through that. If Jack is still young enough to need to move in with me full-time, I’d want you to be around for that too. I know I’d be a mess if I lost her, and if Jack lost his mom, and that’s not because I’m still in love with her… I mean, I do love her. But I’m not in love with her. If I lost her it would be hard on us, but I’d want you to be there with me when things get hard.” 

“Of course, I’d be there for you,” she assures him. “The same way I’d want you to come home with me if my parents passed away. She’s family. I know that. I’m never going to be jealous of her. I’d want to be there for Jack too. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your mom as a kid, and I hope he never has to go through that. I’m praying that his mom is in his life for as long as possible and that maybe one day me and haley could even become friends. I want us to be a family, as unconventional as that may be, I love you enough to love everyone in your family, too.” 

He wants to cry now too. When he got divorced he never ever, ever thought that he’d find someone who loves him and his family this way. He never thought his girlfriend would want to be close to his ex-wife. He never imagined a world where his son would have two strong and wonderful women to look up to but that’s what he found.

“I love you,” Aaron says before kissing the top of her head. “I love you so much.” 

She kisses his neck where her head is tucked in, holding him as close as possible. “Sometimes I can’t believe this happened. Like, I thought you were cute when I started working with you and I knew you were married and I thought all Jack's photos on your desk were so sweet. I really just wanted to be your friend after the divorce. I never had a lot of girlfriends, I’m not super close to JJ or Penelope, so getting to know you was the first time I had a good friend in a long time.” 

“Finding friends as an adult is hard,” he sympathizes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without our phone calls… I spent the first few months completely silent in my apartment all alone and then you filled my nights with laughter and smiles and I woke up the next morning excited to go to work. I didn’t even realize I was in love with you until it was almost too late.” 

She smiles, “I only figured it out cause I got jealous in New York.” 

“God, this last year has been absolutely insane,” he shakes his head. He got divorced, he fell in love and the only other woman he’s ever slept with in his life died. In his arms, too. It’s been such a traumatic year but Y/N made it liveable. She made it okay. 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.” 

—

They’re up and ready by 7, unable to sleep in that long when their body clock was off. 

They all leave at different times, JJ left with Rossi just before Y/N and Aaron were done getting ready and texted that they left. Derek and Spencer were running a little late but that was usual. They had just enough time to get coffee at a local family-owned diner and they even get some breakfast sandwiches too, which were on the house as the owners were thankful the FBI was in town to help. It put an extra pep in their step that morning. 

When they arrived at the station, Mr. Makely was already there, still looking through photos of vehicles from the day before but in a new outfit. He went home, didn’t sleep but came back changed to give the illusion that he did. He smelled like booze and the bags under his eyes were the same purple as the tie Aaron had on yesterday. So Arron heads over to the coffee maker, pours the man a cup and sets it down beside him with a smile. 

This was going to be a long day. 

By the time Derek and Spencer get in, Y/N and JJ have already gone through a box of information gathered on the first two victims. Where they grew up, who they went to school with, their family members, hospital records, speeding tickets, you name it and they’ve seen it. Nothing has added up yet. 

Derek takes a seat by Mr. Makely, asking him how he’s doing and questioning him on what he’s able to remember thus far and Marley takes a couple images and lays them out. “These ones stick out.” 

“All Ford models, similar grills like you described yesterday,” Derek nods along. 

“I guess, they just didn’t have that emblem,” he points. “There was no hood ornament, nothing like that.” 

“I understand how hard this must be, but it’ll really help us to know what the truck looks like,” Derek sympathizes. “Our tech girl can put in all these specifications into the system and narrow down who drives this model, she can even go further and track down who’s bought grills and had them shipped to Bend recently.” 

“I’ll keep looking,” he assures Derek with a smile. 

Derek pats his shoulder and then joins the team at the round table. “How’s it going?” Aaron asks. 

“Well, we're down to an older model, black, American-made. Sounds like he de-badged the trucks so nobody could ID him,” Derek explains. 

“I can start a list from the DMV matching what we know?” Quinn offers. 

“That’s gonna kill a lot of trees up in these parts,” Derek makes a joke, even in times like these he still found a way. 

“The trucks only gonna get us so far,” Hotch agrees. “What we need to do is build on the profile.” 

“Well he’s mechanically inclined,” Reid throws in. “He certainly knows his way around an engine block.” 

“And he can pull a dent too,” Y/N suggests. “If he’s fixing the body damage to his truck himself.” 

“Both victims were killed during prime office hours which means he has a flexible work schedule,” Aaron adds. 

“Or he might not be working at all? Uh, stalking someone, getting to know their schedule that’s some pretty serious time commitment,” Reid reminds them all. 

“8% of the states out of work,” Quinn shares. 

“Job loss is a classic stressor,” Derek says for good measure. 

“It’s a start,” Hotch sighs. “Look for men who are employed as mechanics, body shops, and look for those with criminal records. Reckless driving, assault…”

“Two murders in 2 weeks, that’s not much of a cooling-off period,” Y/N says. 

“He’s not going to wait for another opportunity to present itself,” Hotch agrees. 

“No, he’ll create one,” Reid adds, knowing the odds. 

—

The call comes in just after 5 p.m., in the middle of shift change. There was another murder, in the parking garage of the local hospital this time. Aaron heads out with Y/N  Rossi and Reid, leaving Derek with Mr. Makely and JJ to contact the family once they know more. 

When they get there it's a gruesome sight. He was hit in front of the elevator, almost pancaked between the grill of the truck and the metal doors. 

“Impact nearly cut him in two,” Quinn says, closing back up the body bag that the coroner had placed the victim in. “His name is Victor Costella. Pediatrist. He works in the building.” 

“A male victim?” Y/N can’t believe it. 

“There goes the vehicular rape theory,” Rossi says with a sigh, this case was starting to piss him off. 

“He ran down from the level above trying to get away,” Quinn explains. 

“So the initial collision was up there?” Rossi points. Quinn nods, “Let's go see it.” 

They leave the victim where he is and walk up the roundabout ramp towards where he was originally parked. A few cars got caught in the scuffle, and crime scene detectives are already up there taking photos and documenting everything. 

“That’s the victims car?” Reid points at the red coop. 

“Yeah, why?” Quinn asks, not seeing why it’s important. 

“Hold on just a moment,” Reid says, taking his phone from his pocket. “Garcia, I need you to look into something.” 

They all knew what that meant. They were about to have a crack in this case and hopefully one big enough to blow it wide open. 

“It’s a reserved spot,” Aaron points at the wall, the sign is screwed into the concrete wall with Dr. Costella written on it. Rusty and faded, he’s been at this practice a long time. 

“The unsub knew where he was going to park, must’ve gotten here early and picked a spot right across from him,” Rossi explains, turning to look at the other parking spots. 

“Somebody might’ve seen him waiting,” Y/N says, hopeful to talk to an eyewitness. 

“Somebody did,” Detective Feder says, showing up from the lower level and surprising them with his presence. “I talked to an X-ray tech on the third floor, she noticed the truck when she arrived. 

“And he was inside it?” Y/N asks. 

“Yeah but she couldn’t see him because of the tint,” he explains. 

“So how did she know he was inside the truck?” Aaron asks. 

“She said the window was cracked, the occupant was smoking,” he explains further. 

Rossi perks right up, “I don’t suppose your people found any cigarette butts?” 

Feder looks as though he didn’t even think to look, causing Rossi to head over to the vacant spot across from Costella’s and start to look. “What time did the tech get in?” Rossi asks. 

“10 am,” Feder answers. 

“7 hours… a proper addict could kill a while pack in that time,” Rossi mutters to himself, squatting down with his pen in hand, he pushes around a couple balled up, yellow, pieces of paper. “Did you ever smoke?” He asks the group. 

“I used to do a lot of things,” Y/N answers, honestly. 

“I bet you never did this,” he taps the ground. 

“He field stripped it,” Aaron notices. 

“What is that?” Y/N asks, having not heard the term before, or at least not remembering what it meant. 

“Something they teach soldiers to avoid leaving traces in the field,” Quinn explains. 

“They squeeze out the filter and then ball up the surrounding paper,” Rossi gives a more detailed explanation. 

“Okay so our guy could be ex-military?” Y/N proposes. 

Feder takes out some tweezers and an evidence bag, “I’ll get some DNA on this. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s in our system.” 

“If he’s military, why would he choose a truck as his weapon?” Quinn asks. 

“Maybe he drove a tank?” Feder shrugs. 

“That’s a good question,” Rossi assures Quinn, ignoring Feder. “Using a vehicle on the open road is one thing, but this is close quarters.”

“Yeah, the truck is loud and draws attention. Plus he risked rendering in inoperable,” Y/N adds. 

“That doesn’t make any sense?” Quinn is a ball of confusion now. Shaking his head, he just wants this to be over with. He wants answers now. He’s not used to the chase in a small town like this. 

“It makes sense to him. He needs to kill this way,” Aaron says and then takes a deep breath, dropping his shoulders, he places his hand on Quinn's arm. “We’ll figure out why.” 

Reid comes running up the ramp then. Rounding the corner, he’s out of breath already but he has news. “Guys!” They all turn to him. “I think I figured out what connects these victims.” 

He explains it once on their walk back to the SUV and then again at the station, filling in JJ and Derek this time as well. “All the victims drove red, two-door coupes.”

“Don’t you think that could be a coincidence?” Quinn asked, not fully sold. 

“It’s statistically significant,” Spencer says, sassy as ever in his own Spencer way. 

“We haven’t been able to find any other common denominators,” JJ adds. 

“if the unsub is targeting people because of their cars, then his initial contact with them would’ve been on the road,” Hotch explains in a way Quinn would better understand. 

“Exactly,” Spencer nods, giving him a small smile to say thank you. 

“I spoke to the families about the victim's daily car travel— how they got to work, the gym,” JJ points to the board, showing the different coloured pins for the different victims and the routes they took. 

“There’s one road all the victims had in common,” Spencer points out. 

Three pins are along one highway. The same highway Shannon Makely was murdered on. 

“Route seven.” Quinn knows all too well what that road is like and they can tell by the look on his face. 

“That means something to you?” Hotch asks, staring him down, he’s talked to the man enough to know whatever he was about to say wasn’t good news. 

“Maybe we should take a drive.” 

—

It doesn’t take long to drive out there, maybe 20 minutes? Quinn pulls over onto the side of the road and puts his safety blinkers on. They get out together and he walks them over to the side of the cliff. There’s about a 200-meter drop from where they are standing down to a clearing of trees.

Spencer gets close to the edge, looking down while Aaron stays back further. He’s not terrified of heights but he knew what was good for him. 

“Anyone living outside bend who commutes toward Eugene, uses Route 7. It’s the most dangerous stretch of highway in the state,” Quinn explains. “They call it suicide seven.” 

Along the roadside there are white crosses, the kind you see on the side of the road in the middle of no where to mark where an accident took place. Either drunk driving or mechanical trouble, swerving into the wrong lane after not enough sleep or black ice in the middle of winter that sends you spinning out… there’s way too many in this little section of highway for them not to find it suspicious. 

“These crosses represent accidents?” Spencer asks, filling in the blanks in his building theory. 

“Fatalities. The fire chief put them up to remind drivers to be careful,” Quinn explains, monotoned and expressionless. 

Aaron could tell he hated this part of the job. He would too. 

“Two lanes, no dividers, I’m assuming there’s a lot of head-on collisions?” 

“Either that or they go off the side,” Quinn says, letting out a deep breath and walking away from the edge. 

“Reid you mentioned the possibility of a physical limitation, something that kept the unsub from attacking in a traditional way?” Aaron asks him. 

“I was talking about impotence but we ruled out sexual motivation,” he reminds him. 

“What if he’d been involved in a crash?” 

“On this road…” Spencer starts to nod, putting more pieces together, Aaron could tell it was starting to make sense to not just himself now. “If the unsub is disabled it explains why he uses a truck— it gives him power, mobility…” 

“But what?” Aaron asks, wanting him to explain everything going on inside his genius mind. 

“The idea that he’s avenging his own physical suffering speaks to a victim mentality that’s inconsistent with the profile,” Spencer explains, puzzled by this piece. 

He thinks back to the conversation he had last night with Y/N. How he’d want her by his side if someone important to him died. He didn’t bring it up then, but if he ever lost her. If Y/N ever died… he’d never be okay again. He never once understood why these men were able to kill so easily and then he fell in love again. Harder than ever before. He would kill for her if he had to. 

“Then maybe it’s not just about his own suffering,” Aaron hypothesizes. “What if he got hurt in an accident that took a loved one? His wife or child, or both?” 

“We’ve had a few cases like that on this highway,” Quinn nods, “I can get the guys back at the station to start pulling files of men who survived while their family didn’t.” 

“Broaden that to women and children who died with husbands who weren’t in the car,” Spencer asks. “He could also have been disabled in combat and come home to his family dead, I doubt it but it's still good to add to the search.” 

“Good idea,” Aaron agrees. 

When they get in the car this time, he feels a little less easy. Turning around, doing a U-turn on this scary patch of road, it made his stomach uneasy. He was never good at being in the car when someone else was driving. He’s old enough now to know a life of having his licence longer than being without it. He hated giving that control away, unless it was with Y/N or Dave and even Derek.

—

When they get back they have just an hour to prep the final profile and before they get in front of the station and local reporters, Aaron pulls Y/N aside. He steals a hug and a kiss from her.

“What was that for?” 

“Cause I can,” he says, just holding her closer. He rubs his hand up and down her back. “I love you.” 

“You can love me all you want once we catch this guy,” she teases as she pulls away. “Come on, we’ve got a profile to give.” 

He knows she’s right, he shouldn’t be doing this here, in a random back corner of the office where no one can see them. He should be prepping with the others, but he couldn’t help it. 

He follows her back towards the others, his smile fades and he puts his stern and serious look back on. It was hard being happy and in love while around such horrible things all the time, but he found a way to make it work. When they get back to the table, the whole station has gathered and a few reporters from the next town over are there too, waiting and ready for the team to start talking. 

“As we speak, this profile and a description of the unsubs truck are being released to state and national media,” Aaron explains, standing with the others in front of the crowd. 

“In addition to what we already know, we believe the unsub is ex-military, most likely army or marines,” Spencer speaks next. 

Y/N takes a half step forward, “We also believe he’s physically handicapped.” 

“Form combat?” One of the officers asks. 

Aaron shakes his head, “most likely from an automobile accident.” 

“An accident that may have occurred along route 7, where the unsub finds his victims,” Y/N adds. 

“And that has something to do with why he’s going after red coupes,” Quinn says, sitting with the rest of his station but still in the loop more than the others. 

“We believe that he holds the driver of a comparable vehicle responsible for his accident,” Spencer explains further. 

“And this person is the object of his rage, but unable to confront them, he’s taking revenge against a surrogate,” Aaron makes it absolutely clear that these victims didn’t hurt the unsub first, they just remind him of the person who did. 

“These boxes contain accident reports uh, from a strip of route 7 between Bend and Eugene. There’s about 5 years worth, we’re going to need everyone you can spare to comb through them,” Y/N says, taking the lid off of one of the boxes. 

“We’ve also compiled a list of local rehabilitation facilities where the unsub may have gone to recover. Use the profile as you canvas these places,” Spencer adds. 

“Remember we’re looking for a white male in his early 40s, former military who may have sustained serious injury in a car accident,” Aaron makes the final summary and then disburse. 

He reaches for the TV remote and then, turns it up to hear JJ on the local news giving the same report. 

“Though only owners of red coupes have been targeted, at this point, we’re asking all the driving public to be vigilant on the road. If you know anyone who fits this description please contact the Bend Police Department immediately. Thank you.” 

While JJ is on the news, Derek and Dave have split off two canvases a few different facilities and ask questions. Y/N is about to leave to hit up a few more with Agent Feder, which leaves Aaron with Spencer to go over everything else and wait for calls. So far nothing serious has come from the lines, mainly people saying they’ve seen reckless red coupes on that road or saying their neighbour has that kind of car, but nothing substantial. 

When JJ comes back she weeds through the emails from the news station, some people have contacted the news instead of the police because they want their 5 seconds of fame if they got the suspect right. So far almost everyone just knows someone with a black truck, nothing about a disabled man or even licence plate numbers to back their theories up. 

And then they get a walk-in. 

“Hotch,” JJ comes over to hear him. “This guy walked in, his name is Gil Bonner.” 

“What’s his story?” He asks. 

“It’s about the unsubs accident he says it’s his fault,” she says, scratching the back of her head and looking as though she doesn’t know if she can believe him or not. 

Aaron stands right up and follows her over to the man with Spencer in tow, he shakes his hand and introduces himself as the head of the investigation, making him follow them into another room to talk privately. “Tell us the story from the beginning.” 

He sits down and stares at the wall for a moment. “It was late and I had spent all day in Eugene with my mom, she’d been sick… I should’ve been driving, but I just wanted to get home to see my little girl. And it was darker than usual. I remember the moon, it was just a sliver. Right outside the Cascades, my phone started vibrating. When I went to reach for it, I knocked it off the far side of the seat and it fell down by the door and I thought I could reach.” 

He gets teary-eyed explaining it all, he can’t meet their eyes for worry they’d look at him like a monster. He’s so filled with shame, he’s been holding this story in for such a long time that recalls it like a folktale. 

“You took your eyes off the road,” JJ says in the most sympathetic tone, talking to him like a teacher or a friend. Trying to make sure he can trust them. 

“It could’ve been for more than a few seconds, but when I looked back up there were lights and this horn was blaring and I swerved at the last second and I just… kept on going,” he explains. “Without a scratch?” 

“You’d gone into the oncoming lane?” Hotch asks, trying to better understand. 

The man just nods. 

“What happened to the other vehicle?” Spencer asks. 

“That’s the thing,” he whispers, brows furrowed, he’s trying his hardest to think back to the exact things that happened that night but the sleep deprivation from that night and the time that’s passed make it hard. “It was in my rearview mirror and then it was gone. Vanished!” 

“Why didn’t you stop?” Aaron asks, there is no way he wouldn’t stop if this was him. 

“It didn’t seem real,” he explains, still not able to look at him. 

“You’re saying you just pretended it didn’t happen?” JJ asks. 

“I guess if you tell yourself something for long enough… You can make anything true,” he says, trying his best not to break down. The guilt is eating him alive. 

“Well you’re here now,” Aaron assures him that it’ll be okay. “Tell us about the other vehicle.” 

“It was the truck you’re looking for.” 

“How do you know that?” Aaron needs him to be as sure as possible. 

“When I saw the news… it all made sense,” he explains. “It’s come back for revenge.” 

They all look at each other, concerned for this man. He’s speaking as if the truck is a ghost and it’s looking for him not that there's a killer out there using this accident as a reason to kill. 

“When did the accident happen?” JJ asks, bringing him back to the real issue. 

“December ’07,” he spits right back, knowing it exactly. “The second Saturday.” 

Spencer quickly reads over the report in his hand, “There were no accidents reported in December of 2007.” 

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Thats— no??”

“Maybe you have your dates wrong?” Aaron sympathizes, it was a long time ago and he was under stress. Dates blur in times like these. 

“Could’ve been November?”

“Uh, memories are kinda like puzzle pieces,” Spencer explains. “And it’s-it’s quite possible that in suppressing these for so long, you’ve sort of rearranged things?” 

He breaks down then, shaking his head. 

“How long was your mother sick?” Aaron asks, maybe this will get them closer to the real date. 

“5 months,” he knows that for a fact. When it comes to sick relatives, to losing a loved one, you don’t forget that. “She… she died in January. That much I know.” 

They let him stay in the room to calm down as long as he needs to but Aaron and Spencer leave. They head back to the table silently and then they both sigh as they take their seats. 

“I feel bad for the guy,” Spencer shares. 

Aaron nods, “I remember when my mother died, she was sick for a few years before. I remember it like it was yesterday… hopefully JJ and Garcia can pull some hospital records and we can pinpoint when the moon was like that in the later months of 2007.” 

“Maybe the others will come back with something from the rehab facilities that we can cross references with him,” Spencer agrees. 

“I hope they come back soon,” Aaron says with his small voice. 

“It’s strange you know? We’ve been a team for years and I’ve been beside Derek almost every day since the start and now when he’s partnered off doing something without me, it feels like I haven’t seen him in ages,” Spencer sympathizes with him. 

“It is weird,” Aaron agrees. “But it’s also nice loving someone so much that a few minutes apart makes you miss them.” 

He nods, trying not to smile too big, “I’m glad she finally told you, I’ve been waiting for you guys to get together for a year.” 

“I’ve been expecting you and Morgan to get together since 2005,” he teases back. 

“Why?” 

“Because he’s always been into you, from the moment you started he was fascinated in you and you just never picked up on it because his flirting comes off as teasing,” Aaron explains. “Y/N was telling me that when we went to Chicago to help him after he was arrested, you were at his mother's house and she said he always talked about you to them. He’s been in love with you a lot longer than you think.” 

“Oh,” Spencer softens. “I had no idea.” 

He laughs, “we know.” 

“I knew Y/N was into you when we were at the cemetery, right after New York,” he explains. “I have never seen someone yell at you like that.” 

“I know,” he just shakes his head with a smile. “It was a shock for me too.” 

JJ comes rushing from the room then, “Hey, I called Y/N and told her about the crash happening between September ’07 and January ’08, she’s with Derek right now at one of the facilities. Feder got called to another issue somewhere else, but they think they found someone who fits the profile. They’re on their way back now.” 

“Sounds good.”

—

When Y/N and Derek get back they take a seat at the table beside their partners and get Penelope on the line. She’s able to send them over details on this guy from the rehab centre, Ian Coakley and Reid pulls the information about said crash from one of the boxes Y/N brought out earlier that day. 

“Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley, going eastbound on Route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road, and flipped numerous times. No witnesses,” Spencer recounts before laying the file on the table for the others to see. 

“His wife was riding in the passenger seat, she died at the scene,” Y/N adds, heartbroken for them. 

“Coakley survived,” Aaron read from the file. “Paramedics indicated spinal cord injury.” 

“He fractured his T6 and T7 vertebrae,” Morgan says with a sigh, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat. 

“Paraplegic,” Aaron nods along. 

“That’s not all, he’s a former light-wheel mechanic in the Army National Guard,” Spencer adds. 

“Did it say anything about a red car?” Quinn asks. 

“No. It says Coakley suffered memory loss after the accident,” Aaron reads from the file. 

“Short-term retrograde amnesia is common after a serious accident,” Spencer confirms. 

“I think it’s safe to say he remembers now,” Rossi shakes his head. 

“Do we have an address?” Aaron asks, wanting to go forward with an arrest. 

“I’m working on it,” Penelope says from the office phone which has been on speaker the whole time. “Okay, the house Coakley and his wife bought was foreclosed on 10 months after the accident.” 

“Well, there’s gotta be a paper trail then?” Spencer jumps the gun. 

“Yeah and that trail leads to a land called nowhere,” Penelope spits back. Typing away. “He cashed some insurance cheques during his stay at Adelman's house but after he left... Zilch." 

“Any relatives he could be staying with?” Aaron asks. 

“No, I tried that,” Garcia explains. “There’s no family in the area. My exquisitely educated guess is he’s either squatting or subletting with cash.” 

“What about his truck?” Rossi asks. 

“He owns a ’79 Dodge D100, he bought it used 10 years ago,” she explains. 

“he’s had to rebuild it several times now, parts can’t be easy to find for a truck that old,” Rossi reminds her. She’s found more people with less before. 

“I smell what you’re cooking agent… Checking auto suppliers in Bend… yeah! Rossi gets a fruit cup with lunch. He’s having the parts drop-shipped through Sid’s Auto and sent directly to an address in southwest Bend,” Penelope explains in her ever-Penelope way. 

“Send us the exact address, let’s gear up,” Hotch says as he starts to stand up. “We’ve got two options, either he’s there or he’s out stalking his next victim, I want the crime scene to be there to search the house regardless of if he’s there and if he isn’t I need unmarked cars canvassed in the surrounding areas so he doesn’t get spooked if he comes back and sees sirens and officers. We’re getting this guy. Today.” 

“I’ve sent it to your phones and the fax machine there at the station,” Penelope explains. “I’ve also emailed the information to the local judge, we should have a warrant ready in the next half hour.” 

“You’re a godsend, Penelope,” Derek reminds her. 

“I know. Be safe, come home to me!” 

“We always do!” Y/N smiles before hitting the end call button and joining the others in getting ready. 

—

Derek is the first one inside, like always, he’s followed by Rossi, then Hotch, Quinn and finally Y/N and a few cops. They clear each room, his garage and his backyard, he’s not there. Just like Aaron suspected. 

“His truck is gone,” Derek says as he comes back in from the garage. 

“Get all the vehicles off the street and start a perimeter,” Rossi orders to the other officers. “If he comes back this way we’ll want to be ready for him.” 

“On it,” they all scatter like flies, leaving the house just as the crime scene unit comes in with Reid and JJ. 

“Rossi,” Derek gets his attention, “you’re gonna want to see this.” 

Rossi follows him out into the garage leaving Y/N and Aaron in Coakley’s kitchen. “I want you guys to search everything, find me any clues as to who he’s going to be getting next, Quinn and I are going to be driving around Route 7 and the reservoir looking for him. Radios work better than phones up here,” he hands Y/N a walkie and then another to JJ and Reid. “Give this one to Dave and Morgan, Call me if you hear anything.” 

“You bet,” JJ gives him a smile and starts getting to work. 

“Hey,” Y/N stops him before he heads out. “Be careful.” 

“I always am.” 

They head out then, Hotch drives this time with Quinn in the driver's seat. He’s a quiet man, he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and he could do without small talk. Aaron liked that about him. So far they’ve only talked about the case and similar ones like it, he’s asked questions about if they’ve seen anything like this before and about the other team members but that’s about it. 

So needless to say, he’s shocked when he brings up Y/N. 

“You two been together long?” He asks. 

“Hm? Oh, me and Agent Y/L/N? A while now, yeah,” he tries not to smile. 

“She’s nice, smart too,” he compliments. 

Aaron just nods, “She’s amazing.” 

They’re quiet again for a while, the radio on low and Quinn hums along. He looks out the window and points out every black truck they see but none of them have the License plate they’re looking for, but they know he’s out there. 

They get a radio in from Morgan about 15 minutes into the drive, Coakley had photos of previous vics and one man they haven’t seen before. Garcia traced his licence plate and Derek took Y/N over to the guy's house to ask where he is. He’s on a bike ride, headed towards the reservoir. They have this man's bike path mapped out and are chasing him.

“Hotch, we’re on Route 26 heading towards the reservoir, I think we’re about halfway around the loop. So far, no sign of him,” Y/N radios through. 

“Copy that. We’re headed southbound on 20. Hopefully, we can hit route 26 before they fly by,” Aaron radios back. 

He speeds up, zooming along the old country roads, dust flying behind his tires. He’s careful around the edges, hyper-vigilant that this is a scary road and he’s not the only one on it. 

The next radio in is from JJ. “Hotch, you know how Coakley was driving his wife’s car on the night of the accident?” 

“I remember.” 

“It was a red coupe,” she explains. 

“Are you sure?” He can’t believe it. 

“We have pictures,” she says, completely positive. 

Hotch looks at Quinn carefully and then back to the road, Quinn holds his own radio to his mouth, “What does it mean?” He asks. 

“Maybe there was no other car on the road?” JJ hypothesizes. 

“Think about it, the make and model of his target car keeps changing,” Y/N chirps in from her end. 

“Like he knows they aren’t right,” Hotch adds. 

“And his doctor at the rehab facility called it fluid memory but what if it was more than that?” 

“So if it’s a single car accident—

“It was Coakley's fault,” Y/N cuts off Quinn. “He was driving back from Napa Valley that night. That’s a long drive.” 

“Fell asleep at the wheel,” Quinn can fill in the blanks himself. He’s heard it all before. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“The guilt of that would be overwhelming. The truth, almost impossible to take,” Y/N adds. 

“So he’s projecting blame?” Aaron asks, corroborating his theory. 

“A red coupe did cause the accident, and he was driving it,” Y/N assures him he’s right. 

They reach route 26 then, tyres squeal as he takes a turn and then he gets right back up to speed. Aaron follows the winding path and from his elevation, he can see the truck chasing a group of bikers as they come up the hill. There’s an intersection coming up, the bikers are already heading through it as Aaron goes even faster, hitting 120mph now, he’s going to meet Coakley at the intersection. 

“HANG ON!” 

Aaron smacks right into the front end of Coakley’s truck as the bikers get away without a scratch. The airbags deployed, they get ditched and the ringing in his ears comes back. He can’t move from his seat, he can barely open both eyes, and he knows he’ll be diagnosed with a concussion as soon as he’s seen by someone but he doesn’t care. 

By the time he’s able to get out of the vehicle, it’s too late. The truck has backed up and he’s about to head off after the bikers once more. But Quinn draws his weapon and starts to talk to him anyway. 

“You can’t blame other people for what you’ve done Coakley!” 

That’s not going to work. 

“Detective!” Aaron yells from his seat. 

“You know the truth! No one else needs to die,” he continues. 

“It’s not going to help!” Aaron tries to get him to stop. 

“There was no other red car, was there?” He finally says, making Coakley snap back into reality. 

These cases end in 1 of two ways. Either kill themselves or get the cops to do it for them. 

Aaron unclips his seatbelt and starts trying to get out but there’s too much damage to the front end of the SUV. His door won’t budge. Coakley is starting his truck back up and he’s about to get away so he pushes harder on the door. It pops open just as Coakely speeds off. 

Y/N, riding with Derek, sees Aaron leaning against the SUV and the blood on his face. She jumps out of the car before it even comes to a halt while Aaron shouts, “Go! Go!!” Making Derek keep chasing him. 

“Aaron Hotchner!” She scolds him, “What the fuck was that?” 

“Oh, don’t start with me,” he waves her off, heading back to the crashed SUV to talk to Detective Quinn.

“You do this all the time!” She yells at him, following him over. “You put yourself in harm's way and you get hurt and then you get pissy that you can’t go back to work right away. Maybe if you stopped putting yourself in the middle of shit—

He turns back to her in the middle of her rant, “I get it! I’m an idiot! But at least those bikers are still alive!” 

“Thank god for that!” She yells right back. “It's not like we need you to stay alive too.” 

“What is your problem? I’m clearly alive right now?!”

“This time.” That’s all she says. She turns around and starts walking away, up the hill and towards where Derek and all the cops drove. 

She makes him feel bad, but at the same time, he’d do it again. His job isn’t to protect and serve, it’s to profile and track down killers. That’s it. He should know that by now… but it doesn’t stick. He’s never been just a normal cop, Derek has, so his instincts aren’t always questioned. It’s ingrained in him. The team brushes it off and sometimes Aaron has to give him a talk. 

No one ever gives Aaron the talk. Except Strauss, sometimes she gets on his ass but it’s never got a good reason. 

Having someone he loves so much, who loves Him so much, yell at him… that’s new. And he doesn’t like it. 

—

Y/N has her own room key, she leaves the precinct before the others and heads to their room so that she doesn’t have to talk to Aaron or see him anymore. She’s still so mad at him. He knows it too. 

He arrives at the hotel later on, slowly but surely, he shows up after she’s already changed and sitting in the middle of her own bed. Making it clear to him that he can have the other. She’s in the one furthest from the door, on what is usually his side so that she’s extra far away from him when he gets in. 

“Hey,” he says with his safest voice, watching as she simply raises her brows to acknowledge him and then goes back to her book. She sighs, a huff of air leaves her nose and she’s biting her tongue, She clearly wants to say something but doesn’t. 

He drops his bags on the floor, kicks off his shoes, tosses his suit jacket onto the free bed and slowly makes his way over to her bed, sitting on the edge with his ankle locked under his other knee. He cocks his head to the side and stares softly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Okay.” 

“I mean it. I just get so caught up with these guys that I forget that you’re right behind me and you’re watching and everything I do has consequences that you have to deal with, too,” he explains, trying to be as genuine as humanly possible. He wants her to believe him. 

“Did you at least get it checked out?” She asks, softening a bit. 

He nods and points to the bandage on his forehead, “No concussion and my ear is okay. My chest might bruise up from the seatbelt and this little cut will heal in a day or two, but other than that, I’m okay.” 

She nods then too, getting a little choked up. “I can’t lose you. I just got you. I never thought it would happen, Aaron. I thought you loved your ex-wife still and my little crush would end up suffocating me until I moved units. I didn’t think you’d ever love me back and to see you get hurt again after everything we’ve gone through just triggered me a little.” 

“It’s okay,” he quickly gets up and sits closer to her, pulling her in for a hug. He rubs her back and kisses the top of her head. “I love you so much I’m never going anywhere. I’m not saying I won’t get hurt again, I can’t see the future, but I’m going to try and stop putting myself in the middle of things.” 

“You promise?” She whispers, tossing the blanket away so she can crawl into his lap. She cups his face as she sits down on him. “Please?” 

He nods, “I promise, sweetheart. I’m not going to put myself in the middle of this shit anymore.” 

“So we won’t have screaming matches in the middle of the woods anymore?” She teases. 

He smirks, “Not unless you want to.” 

She manages to laugh, dragging her hands down to his tie, she starts to undo it. “I mean… it was pretty hot. I like when you’re angry, every time I’ve seen you put someone in their place I get a little hot and bothered, so it was strange having you yell at me for a change.” 

“When you yelled at me that first time, in the cemetery,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “I had to go back to the car because being a little high and in pain… and then getting yelled at like that…” 

“Seriously?” Her jaw drops and she looks at him like she’s starving.

He nods again, “You’re hot when you’re in charge.” 

She just smirks, pulling his tie off, and she keeps unbuttoning his shirt. She pulls it out of his suit pants, finishes off the buttons, and then runs her hands over his chest. Through the sprinkling of chest hair, she feels him up, “I thought our first time would be more slow and sweet and cute… but now I want to get all bossy and make you fuck the shit out of me.” 

“Make me?” He chuckles, “Really?” 

“Yeah,” she teases. She leans in and kisses his cheek, “I think,” and then his jaw, “You should,” and down his neck,  “fuck me,” her kisses go lower, “‘n show me how sorry you are.” 

Her hands now roaming around to his back, over his hips and over his bulge. He basks in it, already getting hard underneath her from just the memory of her wrath. She keeps kissing down his chest until he cups her face and brings her in to kiss her on the lips. He’s kissed her a million times by now but it’s still so exciting. The way she melts against him, the feeling of her tongue against his, the way she slightly whines when his hand starts to move down to her neck and his thumb caress her jaw.

“Mm,” she mumbles as she pulls away. “Can we—“ he steals another few kisses. “Too many—“ more kisses. “Clothes. Need you.” 

He lets her pull back enough just to look at him, both catching their breaths, “You have me.” 

She reaches for the hem of her shirt and he stops her, taking it in his grip instead he begins to lift it over her head. Arms in the air, he gets it up as much as he can from this sitting position and they laugh when she gets trapped inside her shirt and has to help him pull it all the way off. She tosses it to the side and then rests her hands back on his chest, gently running her fingertips down to his belly button, she starts to unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops. 

He kisses her again and again and again until she starts to grind against him, wanting more. He cradles her body and carefully starts to sit up on his knees, laying her back down against the mattress. He hovers over her and kisses her jaw and down her neck, trailing his hands down her sides until he reaches her shorts and he pulls back just so he can get them off her. 

She helps him get them off and sits up on her own knees to kiss him while she pushes his shirt off his shoulders. He blindly flings it to the floor and she reaches down to unbutton his suit pants and reach her hand in there. Between his pants and his boxers, she cups his length and starts to rub. His hands land on her shoulders, smoothing down the warm skin of her back he pulls her in flush against him and slightly moans into her mouth. Her free hand comes up to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him as close as possible. 

She smiles into the kiss, he simply bites her lip as he pulls away. He takes a peak between their bodies to see her boobs pressed against his chest, “you gonna let me go so I can take these pants off?” 

She leans in and steals another kiss, “Mmm, maybe,” she kisses him again and again. “Just hurry up about it.” 

He’s quick to get off the bed and push both his pants and his underwear off, he even pulls off his socks and leaves them all behind in the pile of discarded things. She’s sat there, leaning back with her hands flat on the mattress, she looks him up and down and then her eyes stay fixed on his cock. 

“Like what you see?” He teases her, he grips her ankles and tugs her to the edge of the bed. 

She’s a bit shocked, laughing it off, she grips his sides and stares up at him, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He hauls her to her feet, cups her cheeks and he smiles. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she smiles back. “Are you nervous?” 

He nods, “Just a little. It’s been almost 2 years since I’ve had sex…” 

“We’ll its been a lot longer than that for me and I’m almost positive that sex hasn’t changed that much in that time,” she teases. “I love you and I trust you, so I know it’ll be good.” 

He kisses her once quickly, “just good?” He kisses her again, the side of her mouth this time. He starts to kiss down her neck, over her collarbones and he cups her boobs so he can smother them in kisses too. Eventually starts to kneel, taking his kisses lower, he starts to take her panties off, kissing her lower stomach and then he looks up at her. “Sit down, let me show you how good I can be.” 

She sits on the edge of the bed, he spreads her legs and kisses from her left knee all the way down her thigh and then her lower lips. He spreads them with his fingers and licks a stripe over her cunt, making her gasp as she reaches out to grip his hair at the root.

She holds back her pretty little noises, and as much as he wants to tell her to go wild, he knows JJ is just past that wall in her own room. From all the teasing Derek and Spencer get, she wasn’t going to be loud enough to be added to the relentless jokes her coworkers make. 

He teases her hole with his middle finger, feeling how wet she already is, he circles around the opening a few times before plunging his finger inside. 

“Fuck,” he groans against her, flicking his tongue back and forth, sucking at her skin and fingering her cunt all at the same time. “You taste like heaven.”

She grinds against his face, barely sitting on the edge of the bed anymore as he wraps his arm around her legs and holds her impossibly close to his mouth. The sound of him eating her out is disgustingly euphoric, he’s so deep it’s like he’s eating her out in search of her soul.

She’s trembling as she gets closer and closer when he stops fingering her, sucking the wetness from her and bringing it back up with his tongue before he sucks on her clit again. That does it, she cums instantly with a shout, covering her mouth and hoping he doesn’t let her hit the floor as she grinds and thrashes through her orgasm. And he doesn’t stop, tongue fucking her to taste the best part. 

Her feet touch the floor, and her back is the only part of her still on the bed as she rides his face through it. He pulls back and lets her drop down to the floor and sit in his lap but his "old man" knees are starting to hurt like this, she goes to kiss him and he lets her get a few kisses in before he holds her closer and starts to stand with her. He pulls away just enough to turn her around and push her against the mattress, he kisses her spine and folds himself over her. He moves her hair off her back and kisses her neck. Again, right under her ear, “Are you ready?” 

“Please, please,” she begs. “I need you.” 

“I might have a condom in my—

“Don’t need it, I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” she assures him. 

“Are you—

“Aaron, fuck me, please,” she begs, sticking her ass out even more, taunting him. 

He stands up straighter and grips his leaking cock, tapping it on her ass a few times before guiding it between her folds. Teasing her, he grinds the head against her clit a few times before aligning with her hole and starting to push in, inch by inch, she gasps at the feeling and sucks in a sharp breath the deeper he gets. 

He folds over her as soon as he bottoms out, kissing her shoulder gently as he reaches out for her hand on the mattress. He interlocks their fingers, holding her hand above her head, he’s as close to her as humanly possible and yet he wants to be closer. He wants to live in her, settle in right beside her soul and never leave. 

When he starts to thrust, he goes slowly at first, she reaches back behind herself and rests her hand on his side. Her nails dig into his skin and she whines, “Oh my god, Aaron.” 

He kisses her neck and right under her ear, “Can you feel how sorry I am now?” He slightly pulls out and snaps his hips against her then, fucking her quick and dirty.

“Yes, yes! Oh my god, we should get mad at each other more often,” she all but screams, slightly muffled by her face against the mattress. 

He pulls away, letting go of her hand so he can rest his on her lower back as he fucks her harder. She brings her one leg up onto the mattress, opening herself up so he can get a little deeper. He grips her leg under the knee and keeps going, harder and more frequent thrusts, making her gasp and moan into the mattress to try and stay quiet but she can’t. It feels too good for her. 

For him, it’s even better. The way she sucks him in, how warm she is, how wet she is… she’s even better than he ever imagined and he never wants it to end. But he misses her face. He wants to embrace her and hold her close and make love to her, not just fuck her. So he pulls out. 

“wha—

“Roll over. Move up,” he instructs her, kneeling on the bed, he watches her do just that and gets between her legs. He hovers over her, leaning in for a kiss as she reaches between them and guides him back inside. 

Kissing her as he trusts, their lips move together and their tongues clash through breathy moans and whispers of “I love you.” Her legs wrapped around him, her arms around his middle, her nails dug into his back as she kneaded at his skin. 

He reaches between them, his hand on her pelvis and his thumb starts to circle around her clit. He wants her to be as close as he is, he wants them to cum together. He wants her to enjoy this as much as he was, and from the way she clenches around him and the cute little noises she makes, he knows she is. 

“Oh, Aaron,” she whines, tossing her head back. 

He kisses her cheek and buries his head in the crease of her neck as he drives into her over and over. He starts to smile to himself, thinking about how she said sex hasn’t changed that much since the last time he had it… But he’s never had sex as good as this. It was never this passionate, never this needy, never this euphoric. 

He bites her gently, grazing his teeth along her skin, making her gasp. He wants to suck at her neck, cover her in marks, and let everyone in the world know he’s been there and she belongs to him. He feels so possessive. He knows he can’t. They have to sit on the jet in front of their friends for most of their morning and well into the afternoon tomorrow and if they’re unlucky, start another case right after. He can’t mark her the way he wants. But he can make her his in another way… 

“You close?” He asks, prepared to hold back if she isn’t. 

But she nods enthusiastically, “god, yeah.”

Through bated breath he asks, just to make sure, “Are you still okay with me finish—

“Yes, yes, please, cum in me?” She begs. “I need it, Aar, please?” 

“I got you,” he assures her. “Let go, sweet girl, whenever you’re ready.” 

His trusts stay steady and even, his thumb circles her clit, and he kisses just under her ear. She grips him so tight, wrapped around him like her life depended on it and her breathing changes. He knows she’s right there and he’s going to be right after. He wants to feel the way her orgasm sucks him in deeper, the way she pulsates around him, the way her body goes limp and quakes and the beautiful sounds she’ll make before he gives in. He already got a taste of that earlier, but now he wants to memorize it with his cock deep inside of her. 

She starts to quake then, her thighs rumble against him. Her back starts to arch, pushing her core closer to him instinctually like this is what she was made for. Her orgasm is right there, bubbling to the top and about to spill. He gives her one last piece of motivation. 

“Come on, cum for me,” he whispers. “Be a good girl and— oh, there it is!” He teases as she releases. 

He was right. She clenches around him, pulling him in even deeper. He moves his hand away from her clit, wraps them around her back and starts to fuck her even harder, making her cry out over and over, completely disregarding the fact that her coworker is in the next room. He’s so close, right there, he moves to kiss her on the mouth again and she cups his face as he does so. Breathing while kissing her, his hot breath on her face as their lips and tongues meet once more. 

His body heats up, his stomach starts to feel like a swarm of butterflies and then it erupts through his bloodstream. He cums with a deep groan, dropping his forehead against hers, he fucks into her once more and stays there as rope after rope of cum releases inside of her. 

“I love you,” he pants, collapsing on top of her, holding her back just as close as she’s holding him. “I love you so much.” 

—

On the jet in the morning, everyone sat down with their coffee and quiet. Dave has a manuscript for his new book to proofread. Derek has his music. Spencer has some medical journals he finds interesting and JJ has a big smile on her face. “You guys will never guess how long the couple in the room beside me was fucking last night.” 

He watches as Y/N’s eyes widen and the colour leaves her face. He just bites his tongue, pressing his lips together he flips through a file, pretending not to hear her. 

“How long?” Derek asks. 

Just as she goes to answer Spencer speaks up, “Weren’t you beside Y/N and Hotch…” 

“I hate you guys, I hate you so much,” Y/N finally bursts out. She shook her head, mortified. “I can’t believe you. I can’t. Seriously?” 

They all laugh, Spencer and Derek are relieved that they’re not the only ones to get embarrassed now and JJ is just happy she’s the one to get to start the teasing this time after a year and a bit of being teased about Will. 

“I can write you all up, remember?” Aaron reminds them, trying so hard not to smirk but he fails. He knows he’s blushing, but he doesn’t care. He had the best sex of his life last night, he’s allowed to glow a bit. 

They shut up after that but Spencer does reach his hand over, palm facing Y/N, and she gives him a reluctant high five. 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans 

IKP

@southernraven @alluringshawn @lambsheepsheeping @lmg-stilinski24 @louderfortheback @deludedfruitcake @kleff03 @mrs-ssa-hotch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @lokifanfic2021 @art-and-thoughts @forkswabutnoforks4me @no-1martinipolice @panhoeofmanyfandoms

[cringemesstickles]

Spencer Reid’s Big Secret

(Squealing Santa 2023)

Summary: Spencer Reid has a secret, and Morgan wants to know what it is.

Pairing: Moreid (Morgan/Reid)

Word count: 1,555

A/N: Merry Christmas y’all! This is my squealing Santa gift to @gaybananabread !! :D

I combined two of the prompts bc they were both too cute and I couldn’t decide :’)

I had a lotta fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it!

———————————————————

The BAU headquarters was quieter than usual, a calm before the storm of another case. In a corner of the room, Dr. Spencer Reid sat, his attention buried in a pile of books and papers.

Now, Spencer Reid was incredibly clever… there was no about it.

However, he was never very good at concealing the fact that he was hiding something. You’d think that in his line of work it would be quite the opposite, but most of the time, that just isn’t the case.

Whenever he was hiding something, he would act even more awkward than usual.

Derek Morgan, ever so observant, caught this look and couldn’t resist the urge to investigate.

“Alright, pretty boy, spill it.” Morgan abruptly confronted, palms slammed on the table as if he were conducting a real interrogation, startling the young detective.

Reid looked up with surprise before he put on a mask of innocence. “Spill what?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re hiding something, and I wanna know what it is!”

The younger averted his eyes and Morgan swore that he saw a faint blush on his cheeks.

“What would give you that idea? I’m not hiding anything…”

Morgan wasn’t buying it. He moved closer, a playful yet determined look on his face as he circled around behind Reid.

“Alright… if you won’t talk, I have other methods.”

With that, he quickly spun the chair around to make Reid face him before making a beeline for the detective’s vulnerable sides, digging into the sensitive flesh.

Taken off guard by the sudden tickling ambush, Reid lets out a surprised yelp before loud, unrestrained laughter tumbled from his lips.

“Hey! W-What are you dohohohoing?!”

The older man gave a sly grin.

He was definitely gonna have fun with this.

“What does it look like I’m doing, genius?” He asked teasingly, skillfully spidering his fingers up to Reid’s ribs, using just enough pressure to drive the young detective crazy.

“Ahh! Y-You’re tickling mehehehehee!”

“Bingo!” Morgan said with a grin. “And I’m not gonna stop until you tell me what you’re hiding!”

The blonde squirmed desperately in his seat, trapped between the chair and his attacker. Well… he could maybe escape if he wanted to. The seat didn’t have any armrests; he just wasn’t willing to throw himself at the floor quite yet.

Perhaps he could hold out and Morgan would just give up.

“Nohohoho! Morgan, plehehease! I-I’m not hiding aNYTHIHIHING- WAHAHAIT!”

The doctor’s plea was cut off by his own raucous laughter when he felt the tingling sensations migrate from his ribcage to under his arms, one of his hot spots.

“You can’t lie to me, pretty boy! You better start talking, or I might have to take drastic measures.” The elder playfully threatened, drilling his thumbs into the tender hollows, getting an uncharacteristic shriek from the normally reserved detective.

Reid glued his arms to his sides, but it didn’t matter. Morgan kept on tickling, even with his hands trapped.

Truthfully, Morgan kind of hoped that Reid would stay stubborn, just so that he’d have an excuse to keep tickling him.

Reid’s laughter was so rare, and to have it ringing so openly was nothing short of a gift.

He didn’t even care about the secret as long as he could get Reid to keep laughing like that.

Well… okay, maybe he cared about the secret a little bit.

But that just means he has every excuse in the world to keep tickling the young genius.

Besides, the poor kid needed some playfulness in his life.

“I-I’M NOT TEHEHELLING!!”

This statement, ladies and gentlemen, was a huge mistake.

Morgan quirked a brow, pausing to give the younger man a momentary break from the tickling, but moving to grab his wrists so that he doesn���t escape.

“Not telling, huh? So you admit that you’re hiding something!”

Reid’s face flushed bright red and his eyes widened comically as he realized his mistake.

“Wait, no, I-I meant that, uh…”

Morgan wasn’t having it.

“Y’know, Reid… I think those lanky legs of yours are feeling a little left out.”

He didn’t have to say anymore before Reid began kicking his legs, pleading for mercy before Morgan even touched him.

“Nononono, Morgan, plehehease dohohon’t!” There was a nervous smile on his face, which was starting to turn a nice rosy shade.

“Oh, I think I will, since you’re sooo insistent on not sharing that secret.”

Before Reid could let out another protest, Morgan’s hand caught one of the flailing legs while the other hand began to squeeze rapidly at the kneecap.

The young genius let out a snort, his laughter taking on a boyish energy as he tried his hardest to free his leg, thrashing his entire body from the intense electric tickling sensation.

“NAHAHAH- MORGAHAHAN, T-TOO TIHIHIHICKLISH!!” He shrieked, tears of mirth starting to prick at his eyes.

Morgan couldn’t help but laugh along, not expecting such an extreme reaction from Spencer Reid.

How on earth had Morgan been neglecting Reid’s knees until now?!

“Maybe if you tell me your secret, I can make it a little less ticklish~”

The younger shook his head stubbornly. His stomach was starting to hurt from how hard he was laughing.

He knew his knees were sensitive, but he didn’t know they were THAT sensitive.

Nevertheless, he refused to give in!

At least until Morgan began scribbling over the kneecap…

“Well that’s too bad, Reid. What if I just- woah!”

The minute Morgan touched his knee with that scribbling motion, Reid let out a scream of laughter before throwing himself to the floor in a desperate escape act.

And it worked! He was free from Morgan’s ticklish clutches.

For a few seconds…

Undeterred, the older detective simply followed Reid to the floor, now able to pin him more effectively by sitting on his hips.

“Nice try, kid. You can’t escape me that easily!”

The younger man gave a childish whine, wriggling hopelessly and realizing he definitely wasn’t getting out of this until he gave Morgan what he wanted.

But strangely, it seemed almost as if Reid was enjoying himself… like he was having just as much fun as Morgan was.

“Alright, Reid. I didn’t wanna have to do this, but you leave me no choice.”

With that ominous statement, the older agent began to roll up the younger’s shirt, watching with a mischievous sparkle in his eye as he sees his victim’s expression shift from playful dread, to one of sheer panic… and a glimmer of excitement?

“Your tummy looks rather tasty, Reid. If you’re not gonna share that secret, maybe I should give it a little taste?”

Reid’s eyes went as wide as saucers and he burst into a fit of anticipatory giggles, futilely tugging at his arms.

“Oh? Giggling already? Something you wanna tell me, Reid?”

The giggling agent in question frantically nodded his head, signaling to Morgan that all was about to be revealed.

“I’m listening…”

When Reid looked at Morgan with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he finally said…

“I’m never telling you.”

Taken aback by the sass, the elder decided it was time to unleash his secret weapon.

“That’s it! You asked for this, Reid!”

With that, he brought his face to Reid’s tummy and began to nibble at the soft skin.

The response he got was pure gold.

Reid let out the most childlike squeal before falling into bright, boisterous guffaws, arching his back out of instinct.

“OH MY GOHOHOD, MORGON, PLEHEHEHEASE!!”

Morgan simply let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against Reid’s skin, before he continued the tummy nibbles, making obnoxious nomming sounds which only seemed to make Reid laugh louder.

“NOOO! O-OKAY OKAHAHAHAY!! I’LL TEHEHELL!!”

The tickler lifted his head, looking at Reid with a raised eyebrow.

“For real this time? Don’t make me-”

“EEK- NONONO, I MEAN IT, I PROHOHOMISE!!!”

Morgan pulled back, giving Reid a moment to catch his breath.

At last, Reid inhaled… ready to unleash his big secret.

“So, um… you know how earlier this morning, Hotch said that somebody used all the sugar?..”

Morgan stared blankly.

Surely this was going somewhere…

Reid fiddled with his hands, guiltily averting his eyes.

“I did it…”

For a moment, neither said a word.

“That’s it!?” Exclaimed the older man, expecting more of a, well… secret?

“I used all the sugar, Morgan!”

The blonde tilted his head when Morgan began laughing and shaking his head with disbelief.

“God, Reid… you’re a mess.” He chuckled, reaching out to ruffle the younger’s hair.

Reid’s cheeks turned a rosy shade, whether it was from embarrassment or the affectionate gesture, he couldn’t quite tell.

With an amused expression, Morgan hopped up off the ground, extending a hand for Reid to take, which the doctor graciously took.

“That’s enough excitement for me for one day… I’m heading home.”

Before he left, he turned to give Reid a wink.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy… I won’t tell your oh so terrible secret.” He teased, flashing that charming smile.

Reid felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

As he packed up his own belongings, his thoughts kept drifting towards Morgan, and how maybe he should stop being so uptight all the time…

Maybe it was kind of fun laughing until he couldn’t breathe.

And maybe, just maybe… he kind of liked it when Morgan called him pretty boy.

[toomanyroleplays]

Hey Gang

So to say the least I am ever so bored and looking to get some new roleplays up and running. First off the very most important thing to know about me is I'm 25 coming to you from the Cringy One Direction Roleplay era. So please please please be at least 18 but I would prefer 20 and up in a perfect world. I ONLY write on Discord in the third person. My minimum is two paragraphs and my max well she's all over the place typically around five paragraphs. I'm ghost and cringe-friendly. I love building playlists and interest boards for RPs and world-building and just all the OOC chit-chat you could dream of. I'm looking for romance and if all parties are comfy some spice in the plot along with everything else we could ever dream up within reason. I'm open to writing all pairing types and OCxCC or CCxCC but no OCxOC sorry! But I double! :) Fandoms and a little more about what I'm looking for in each one. Marvel/MCU/Comics: I am a die-hard Phlint shipper and I am always down to write them. I have hardcore missed this pair so damn much since Omegle left us. There are other canon ships I'm down to write as well the list is hella long and fluctuates with my mood so please ask and I'll happily supply you with that list and whom I write. I am also always down to write OCxCC for Marvel. I'm open to ABO and BDSM AU's in this fandom as well. Hobbit: I've kinda got a half assed OC/fan species idea but like fuck if I know. So like while I wanna say I would be down to write OCxCC I'm probably gonna lean towards CCxCC but you never know I might be in the mood to bust that sucker out. I'm all for Thilbo always have been. Have you read An Unexpected Addition by karategal on AO3? I've basically taken it as canon now. Anywho other ships also include Dworin, Dwori, and Boffins. WWE It's cringe I know but shit dude I love that silly wrestling. Ask me about it in the DM's if you're interested. We can work literally anything out. I love it all. Criminal Minds bring on the OCxCC or CCxCC would love to do a Marvel CCxCC crossover though I could be talked into an OCxCC cross over. Ships I kinda love em all for the sake of not making this post any longer I'll put in my top four but feel free to ask about others. Hotchgan, Demily, Morcia and Moreid Harry Potter Golden Trio I'm looking for OCxCC please don't ask me to play Voldy or like any Malfoy. Characters are 18+ so no Hogwarts sorry fam. Uh plots all I can say is buckle up I'm a little bit of a goblin. Marauders era OCxCC or CCxCC looking for alternate war endings. Rare pairs, and heavy world-building. Please do not ask me to write snape I can't go there.

Ok OK so last one and like this shit is hella specific so don't mind me I'm just being hopeful. Percy Jackson (TV series) I read book one years ago gonna start a read-through soon. I am Specifically looking for an AresxF OC of mine. I'm hoping to find someone flexible and willing to help me make sense of this cracked-out plot I've had bouncing around in my brain for weeks.

If any of this interests you please feel free to shoot me a message on Discord or interact with the post and I'll reach out.

pythonsmonty

[cowboysandpilots]

Hello, I am a 24-year-old trans guy who is a part-time student with a full-time customer service job. I am currently saving to be able to attend Uni full-time and I'm super close but I could use some help. The faster I save, the faster I can get to where me and my mental health both need to be. 😅

SO I am implementing something on my blog called $1 blurbs. A blurb can be anything from 100-500 words and you can request anything you would like for only $1 from the following list of fandoms.

FANDOMS/SHIPS:

Teen Wolf (Sterek)

Supernatural (Destiel/Wincest/Saileen/Winkline)

Shadowhunters (Malec)

Shameless US (Gallavich)

Criminal Minds (Moreid or Hotch/Reid)

Suits (Marvey)

Supergirl (James/Winn or Winn/Mon-El)

IT Chapter 1 & 2 (Reddie)

Star Wars (stormpilot)

The Flash (coldflash/coldwave/coldflashwave)

Community (Trobed)

Stranger Things (steddie or hellcheer)

**I will write things from these fandoms not involving the ships but these are the only ships I'll write**

Ko-Fi PayPal

(Kofi is a minimum of $3 unfortunately so you can request 3 blurbs or if you're so generous, I would just appreciate the little bit of extra money too. ❤️)

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

Rinse; Repeat

Words: 4,478, chapter one of probably two.

Rated: Handle with care, cw suicidal thoughts/discussion, canon typical violence, hints at abuse/bullying

Summary: Spencer and Derek meet before either of them are in the BAU. Spencer is hesitant as a deer to be close and all Derek wants is to be close (so does Spencer). Spencer is clearly Troubled and Derek just wants to love him softly, honestly. Like filtered afternoon sunlight and sepia filters.

but for real I just, I saw a post that made me laugh and go 'ahaha, unless?' and then sat down uncomfortably on the floor for three hours and wrote this.

For my own comfort/entertainment, Derek and Spencer are closer in age than my recent google search would lead me to believe. Thank (●'◡'●)

---- 2003

Derek was having a truly sucky day. The academy was rough, and as good as he was at all the physical stuff, there were some real smart people and he was so scared that he was all brawn and no brain. Not that he’d readily use the word ‘scared’ to describe himself if he could help it, but he was.

But realistically, he did get this far. So he did have some of the brain, but was it enough? Had he set his sights too high on the BAU?

Still, the doubt and insecurity wasn’t going to have him quit early. Partly because he really, really wanted this, but also partly because what would he tell his family if he’d put so much time into this and failed?

They’d comfort him and say they’re proud; he knows it. But would he be proud?

He doesn’t want to find out.

Dead tired despite the lack of physical training that day, he walked through the house and out to the balcony, only part stopping to shed his jacket and backpack.

The sun was long gone by now, and the stars were too hidden in such a built up area, but he braced himself with his arms on the railing and stretched his neck, trying to relax.

God, how many people even got through the academy each year?

“Chances are, if you’re already in the academy, you’ll come out the other side.”

God?

Had he asked that aloud?

Derek just about jumped out of his skin, training be damned. He was on the top floor and roof access was blocked. He must have made some sort of noise, because the sad, quiet voice came again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m not- I wasn’t… Startled.” Derek rubbed his forehead, hoping his voice didn’t sound it; startled. He wasn’t sure he’d heard that organically in conversation, more something you come across in text, in books and things.

“Oh. Sorry for assuming?” The speaker was hesitant, like they’d started apologising before they really knew why. Curious, and not thrilled someone had roof access and it wasn’t the guy (and his sister) who had the top floor apartment, Derek leaned out over the railing and twisted his neck, trying to see who answered him.

Before he could get a glimpse, he heard them step back.

How close to the edge was he? He watched as a bit of rubble fell past him and to the concrete below.

“I don’t think that’s something you need to apologise for, man. How’d you get up there, anyway? I was told we weren’t allowed because they don’t have railings. Or insurance, I think.”

“Well, that makes sense. Although a fall from a five story building isn’t guaranteed to be fatal; you’re better off on the eighth floor for that. But then again, there have been people that survived from even that height so, you can’t really win, can you? If you’re scared of heights or something.”

Derek’s curiosity took a quick dive into concern that sped right down to worry.

“Now I think you got that the wrong way around, better off on the lower floors if there’s no railing, right?”

There was a long pause, and Derek wondered if he’d be able to get up onto the roof in a reasonable amount of time if he had a sense of urgency pushing him.

“Perhaps. Can you imagine the injuries you’d be left with after surviving the fall?” He heard a foot scuff the ground above him and thought he’d started sweating despite the cool breeze. “It’d really suck to not have insurance then, huh? As the building owner, I mean.”

“Okay man, well, that’s a dark topic. And since there’s no railing, or maybe no seats up there either, why don’t you join me on my balcony instead? I might even be able to find a beer or something for you.”

“It’s not safe to go into a stranger’s house.”

“It’s not safe to think about people surviving and not surviving falls while you’re alone on a rooftop, close to the edge, and there’s no railing.”

“Well… Perhaps that’s a reasonable counterpoint.”

And that’s how Derek started becoming friends with a bundle of limbs and greasy hair that hid an incredible but haunted mind.

–

Spencer didn’t have a phone, so he’d just show up at Derek’s apartment intermittently. Well, his and Sarah’s. His mother had put money towards them renting it for the duration of Derek’s time at the academy and Sarah’s short term study since they lined up almost the same, with him likely finding some place more permanent for himself after.

He didn’t do well in the claustrophobic, shared dorms of the academy so would escape to the apartment when he could, and Sarah was completing her course close enough to make the apartment almost worth it. 

It had two shoebox rooms, and they had to share a bathroom, but it still had two rooms so it was a step up from the low bar the academy set. But she was out often with friends, study, and a part time job while he was still largely sleeping at the dorm, so they hardly saw each other.

He’d come back to Spencer hanging out near the block only a couple times; he didn’t seem to like loitering, like he was concerned Derek’s neighbours would get suspicious.

More often, though, Derek would go out onto the balcony and make some sort of noise, and Spencer would respond from above. Over time, Derek was relieved to note that Spencer was usually not so close to the edge as he was the first night.

But most of the time, unfortunately, was not all of the time.

Spencer wasn’t all that interested in drinking, but he was interested in sharing whatever he’d learned about recently. He absolutely did not share much about himself at all.

Despite how private Derek felt as a person though, he found he was sharing quite a lot about himself with Spencer. It was hard not to, inviting Spencer into a place he and his sister were living in though. She’d met him in passing once or twice, and had commented after he left, thankfully, about how shy he seemed to be.

Spencer was a bit like butter from the fridge; he needed time to soften up every single time he came over to Derek’s.

His most recent obsession, to Derek's suffering, had been body farms. After finding out that Derek was studying at the academy (which he was loath to share on account of those ever-present insecurities), Spencer had told him that he was interested in criminal behaviour, among other related things.

Not in a ‘watch true crime documentaries just for the nightmares, apparently’ kind of way, but more to work out the why, and sometimes guess at the how, of everything. He’d dropped stupid time into geographical profiling, in Derek’s opinion, for someone who wasn’t pursuing a career in a related field.

“And they have one, a body farm that is, in East Tennessee. Did you know that they run ten week courses there? Something they’ve done recently is watching for changes in hair for a body left in a car for two months. That’s so specific, isn’t it? Hair changes in a car? Although it’s safe to assume they’re obviously looking for more at the same time.”

“Obviously,” Derek agreed.

Spencer was way too excited for the topic at hand.

Derek continued before Spencer went back to talking about something like maggot life cycles. “Okay, so if I get through to being an FBI agent and I see a body in a car, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“You mean when. I don’t have a phone.” Spencer’s lips had a little curve, like he was self-conscious of smiling still but couldn’t help it fully.

“Right, right. Can you tell me how to summon you then, or will I just have to come here and call out at the roof until you appear?”

Now that was definitely a smile. Why did that feel just as good as high test scores?

The next time Derek was at the apartment, Spencer didn’t show. But there was a phone number written on a paper plane that had been thrown onto his balcony. Three, actually, and one he picked up on the way to the apartment that was stuck in a sad, over-pruned and under-watered hedge out front. How many had Spencer made that Derek didn’t find?

Eleven, it turns out. Spencer was a horrible shot, but Derek liked watching his long fingers folding the paper in what was ‘the most aerodynamic plane folding method’ the next time he was over. It felt a little silly to challenge him on it, especially since Derek knew fuck all about the aerodynamics of paper planes. And Spencer called him out on it.

“Superior hand-eye coordination doesn’t mean your plane folding method is superior, it just means you’re good with your hands.”

Derek wiggled his eyebrows, but continued speaking after he let the flush of Spencer’s cheeks sit for a moment.

“So you want me to throw one of yours, to see if I can do it better with your method?”

“It’s a reasonable request. You can’t test two theories for quality results if the testing methods are different.”

“You’re a sore loser, you know that?”

“You’re an unfair winner, did you know that?”

“So you admit I’m a winner?”

Spencer felt terrible that his next plane hit Derek in the eye, so Derek only milked it for half the time he would have liked to.

Spencer shoved his shoulder when Derek finally caved and laughed, indignant.

“You were playing it up!”

“It’s paper! It can’t hurt me that bad.”

“It did hit your eye. They might be the fastest healing body part, but they’re not impervious.”

“Pretty boy, if you want to kiss it better, I won’t stop you. But you don’t need to worry that much about it.”

Derek saw that sweet rush of colour on Spencer’s neck and cheeks, and the smile he was trying to hide before now took a shy edge as he tried to look casual.

“Well, if I injured you, I should do what I can to help.”

His voice was so quiet that Derek almost missed what he said. He tilted his head in question, raising a brow while trying to figure out if this was more word-based flirting or if one of them would actually take it further for once.

Spencer’s eyes were focused on his fingers, picking at lint that certainly wasn’t on the leg of his pants but held his gaze anyway. His eyes flickered up to Derek’s face though, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips just after.

“Well, you’re the doctor out of the two of us, what do you think I need?”

“I’m not a medical doctor.” Spencer’s voice seemed to be getting quieter, but Derek liked that his gaze was flicking more to Derek’s lips now.

“Maybe so, but I bet you know more about first aid than I do, especially with that fear of germs you got.”

“Me not shaking your hand is normal. The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.”

Derek almost laughed at how embarrassed Spencer looked at that line, but knew if he did Spencer would think he was laughing at him and might take offense.

“So I should kiss you goodbye when you leave? Doctor Reid, who knew you could be so forward?”

“That’s not what I was saying! I just-”

Derek held up his hands, placating, while Spencer seemed to flap his. “Now now handsome, I didn’t say I was opposed.”

Derek thought he was floating when Spencer, so quickly it was barely a kiss, pressed his lips to Derek’s cheek when he left that night.

–

The next time Derek heard Spencer’s voice from above his balcony, he was almost back to his subdued, distanced self from when they first started speaking. It was over an hour before Spencer let Derek coax him inside. He was shocked when Spencer came to his front door, hair lank and pulled forward to try and cover his eye and cheek that were dark with bruising.

“Spencer, what happened?” He ushered the younger man in, directing him to the couch.

“Nothing. An accident. What were you saying about the fitness test?”

“You’re not interested in fitness tests, what happened?” He tried to bring his hand up to Spencer’s cheek, tilt his head up into the light and assess the damage, but Spencer shied away from him, getting up and heading to the kitchen instead.

“I’m interested in the fitness test.”

“I’m not. Since when are you interested in that?”

“Since you’re the one talking about them.” Derek tried not to feel warm and fuzzy with that comment. Spencer was being genuine, the man was a terrible liar, but he gives away shy truths when he wants to distract.

Derek leaned against the tiny kitchen counter while Spencer turned the kettle on.

“I thought you didn’t have tea at night because of the caffeine.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight anyway, so I may as well enjoy a tea.”

Derek scrutinised him, wordlessly getting a still sealed pack of decaf tea from the cupboard and putting it down beside Spencer’s hand on the counter.

“You know this isn’t truly decaffeinated? It’s just lower in comparison to other teas.”

Derek stayed quiet and watched as Spencer started to squirm under his gaze. He turned then to face Derek, a frown on his face that softened when he saw whatever emotion Derek’s expression wasn’t hiding. Concern, probably.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t use your behavioural training on me.”

“I thought I wouldn’t feel the need to with you.”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line before he turned back to the kettle, mumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

When Derek put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, Spencer jumped, then looked guilty.

“Sorry. I don’t-” He looked at Derek’s hand, which he’d pulled back like he'd been burnt when Spencer flinched at his touch. “I don’t mind.” He wrung his hands, nervous or something like it and unable to look at Derek with that soft red on his cheeks again, marred by bruises. “I don’t mind. The contact, if it’s you. But I’d rather not be surprised by it just now.”

“I get it, pretty boy, and I’m sorry.” He held out his hands, palms up, for Spencer to take. Spencer’s hands shook a little, and he’d forgotten to pour water into his mug now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I won’t ask how you got- that.” He jutted his chin to try and gesture at Spencer’s purpled skin while his hands were occupied. “But is what I see all you have, or is there more?”

Spencer bit his lip, watching his own thumb as he rubbed it against Derek’s fingers.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer shrugged, still unwilling to meet Derek’s eyes.

“It’s not just that. My face. It’s-...” He lifted their joined hands, but didn’t let go of Derek’s to gesture any better. Instead, he pressed their hands to Derek’s chest, just beneath the collar of his shirt, then slowly moved them down and around a little to Derek’s sides. The movement was awkward, but Derek appreciated the tight grip on his hands, and the touch Spencer was initiating, and the information being shared all in the way Spencer was capable of.

“It’s all over, isn’t it pretty boy?”

Spencer hesitated, almost nodding before deciding to try and move on. “I don’t know if I qualify for that. Not normally, or especially now.”

The shy smile was back, and too self-deprecating for Derek. But fighting Spencer on that too strong right now would push him away, so he let some of that anger slide away before he spoke.

“You callin’ me a liar, handsome?”

“No, I think I’m calling you a sweet-talker.”

“But a lying sweet talker, hot stuff?” Spencer pursed his lips as he looked up at Derek, finally, to suppress a smile.

“I’m starting to think you have a biased opinion.”

“I’m starting to think you do too, although on the other side of the spectrum. Why are you so hard on yourself?” 

Spencer squeezed Derek’s hands before letting them go, turning back to pour hot water in his mug. Derek bit back a sigh when Spencer changed the subject again.

“So only two weeks before you’re done at the academy, huh?”

Throughout the night, as Spencer started melting into his more comfortable self the longer he was there, he was less aware of the bruising on his face. It wasn’t until he caught his reflection, or Derek staring, or felt it twinge when he smiled too wide, that he remembered it and grew self-conscious again. That he pushed his hair back in the way of it like if Derek couldn’t see it then Spencer could forget he was injured.

He’d foregone contact lenses and worn his glasses that night, like he did most nights, and Derek thought it might be so it felt like there was another barrier between his bruises and the rest of the world.

Derek wanted to kiss them better, and then all the other hurts Spencer seemed to have. And Spencer sure seemed to have a lot of hurts.

Hurts like how his expression tightened when Derek asked about his childhood, his parents, his friends, or his time at school. How Derek, in the earlier days, made a comment about Spencer missing social cues, and heard a bitter ‘well I can’t pick up on cues if I don’t have anyone to teach them to me’ in reply before Spencer tried to cover it up.

How if he had a particularly bad day, he was so jumpy near Derek that Derek almost wanted to sit on his hands to show he wasn’t going to use them for anything.

How on days when Spencer’s eyes were sunken with a lack of sleep, and the clothes he wore showed how thin he was, and he was so so close to the edge of the ledge on the roof above Derek’s apartment that he thought Spencer just might not care if he fell over the edge.

Like he’d had a lifetime of hurts and still had to face more each day, and Derek only saw little slivers of him and couldn’t learn enough to help him as much as Spencer needed; as much as Derek wanted.

God, he was going to make a terrible profiler.

“Derek?” Spencer looked hesitant, and Derek realised he’d spaced out; probably while staring at Spencer’s bruise again going by how he’d tried to angle his face away awkwardly, unable to fully turn and hide it while looking at Derek at the same time.

Derek couldn’t help it, he just kept on staring. Spencer’s tongue darted out to wet his lips again, and Derek’s eyes tracked the movement. He knew Spencer noticed that, too, by the way his breath seemed to stutter.

Slowly, he shuffled forward on the couch, eyes holding Spencer’s gaze as he did so.

This time, Derek’s name from Spencer’s lips was much quieter, like he was asking for something instead of questioning him.

“Spencer,” The younger man’s eyes dropped down, watching as Derek’s hand came up to his arm; his shoulder. Watched it still as it moved higher, cupping his unbruised cheek. Spencer turned his head, almost pressing a kiss to Derek’s palm as his eyes closed and his bruised cheek was fully on display.

“Spencer, I’ll be gentle. May I?”

Spencer didn’t open his eyes, just hummed in agreement, nosing at Derek’s palm. 

Goosebumps broke over Spencer’s neck when Derek’s breath hit his cheek, and Derek felt him shiver. Careful to avoid the worst of it, Derek skated his lips over Spencer’s cheekbone, pressed them just in front of where his earlobe met the back of his jaw, then trailed them down his jawline.

Spencer tipped his head, allowing easier access as Derek watched Spencer’s fingers grip the couch cushion beneath him. Unsure if it was entirely due to sensation or something going on in his mind, Derek didn’t push further. Using his hand on Spencer’s cheek, he turned the man’s head to nudge his nose to Spencer’s.

“This is alright?”

In lieu of an answer, slowly, Spencer lifted his chin and kissed Derek on the lips. Derek’s chest swelled and he smiled into it, his other hand coming up to Spencer’s side.

They shuffled closer to each other, to be able to press themselves into each other more comfortably. Spencer’s mouth opened beneath Derek’s lips, and he could taste that terrible decaf tea and honey, and the cashews Spencer liked to snack on while reading.

He wondered what Spencer would think he tasted like, the cheap vending machine snacks and the god awful protein water he’d bought without realising it was terrible.

Suddenly, he had the urge to brush his teeth. He made to pull away, but Spencer’s fingers curled in his shirt and his resolve weakened.

Their hands were slowly moving over each other, everything was moving so slowly. Sweetly, like they were learning each other and had all the time in the world. Derek’s fingers found the hem of Spencer’s shirt, and he tugged the man’s lower lip between his teeth as his fingers slipped under the fabric and brushed against Spencer’s skin.

God it was soft, but it felt thin, too. He became scared of hurting Spencer, especially when remembering he had some other injuries too. So he kept his touch light, fingers probably tickling as they travelled further up Spencer’s side as Spencer laughed into the kiss.

Spencer tugged at Derek’s collar, then his fingers slipped around to cup the back of Derek’s neck. Caught up in being able to touch, they quickly moved back down, trailing over his shoulder and down his chest, then Spencer’s hands lingered there. They would have moved further down, Derek thinks, with his hands now pushing Spencer’s shirt up, if it weren’t for his sister coming home.

They didn’t realise until they heard her laugh, surprised.

“Oh, Sorry! I didn’t text ahead, my phone died. Go about your business!” She laughed again, more of a giggle, then her bedroom door clicked shut. Spencer was rigid beneath him - when had he pressed Spencer into the couch beneath him?

‘Sorry, Spence, I didn’t-”

Spencer pushed him up and off, the heat flushing his face more than the usual shyness or what Derek might expect from making out on a couch could bring about. More than embarrassment of being caught, even. He scrambled to get up and right his clothes, walking to the door and scooping up his bag on the way.

“Spencer, wait! Where are you going?” He didn’t want to pull Spencer back by catching his arm, knowing the man wouldn’t react well. His eyes seemed watery and Derek was lost.

And he stayed lost, when, after three weeks, Spencer hadn’t come back. His texts went unanswered and when he called the number was disconnected.

And he kept right on being lost when Spencer didn’t come back to visit him before he had to move out.

–--- 2005

Derek scowled at the scene before them. 

“You’re saying someone was turning people into books?”

The local officer walking them through the scene nodded, nose wrinkled but face otherwise resigned.

“Yup. See, we had a couple people go missing here and there. Transients, runaways, you know the type. And we’d thought they went missing by choice. Sure, we looked,” not enough, Derek thought. “But we never thought they’d end up. Well. As books.”

“As books.” Derek’s skin crawled.

Aside from a specific wrinkle in his brow, Hotch didn’t even look perturbed. “These materials, would they be specialised? Potentially unique or traceable?”

“The tanning stuff? Not as far as we can tell. Out here, we got people doing this the normal way, tanning hides and such.  A lot of leather workers out here. As far as we can tell, it’s basically all the same stuff.”

Hotch looked back at Gideon who shrugged and looked at Derek. “He’ll take a breather now that we found his workshop; he’ll need time to set himself up again. Derek, you’re going to a library to speak to someone about human skin book binding.”

Derek and Elle looked at each other before Derek held his hands out, gesturing broadly.

“We just have someone who knows about human skin being made into books?”

Elle smirked at him. “And you get to visit them. How nice.”

Derek wasn’t thrilled about it, and the feeling that his skin was crawling and unclean hadn’t left since they found the workshop their unsub was using. It reeked in both usual and unexpected ways, and the forensic investigator on scene and all too happily told him that urine could be used in the tanning process.

Perhaps a clean, quiet, library would help in easing his mind, but the subject matter wouldn’t. Derek flashed his badge at the desk, and the librarian assistant he’d found nodded without him needing to explain.

“Agent Gideon called ahead, I’ll lead you through to the doctor now. The books were already here, we’ve held them for ages, but the doctor only arrived recently. Good timing, too, what with this horribleness happening.” She chattered as she led him through shelves, picking up carelessly placed books as she went and piling them up on her other arm.

“Wait, the doctor showed up for the books after the murders?” Derek frowned; Gideon hadn’t called that far ahead, had he?

“Yes, though it’s not his first time here. He’s such a joy to have.” She looked at Derek, then laughed. “You don’t think he did it, do you?”

Derek shrugged, and she shook her head. Then, they stopped outside a room labelled ‘staff only’, and she knocked before pushing the door open.

Derek patted down his pockets for his notepad and pen, then stopped short when he looked up.

The assistant kept talking.

“So this is the doctor Spencer Reid, the veritable specialist on these books. Our Margaret, who usually cares for these books and who we’d recommend you to normally for this, she’s been unwell. But we’re lucky to have Dr. Reid here,” After that, she looked between the two, and her smile slipped into confusion.

“Do you two know each other?”

Derek swallowed, and Spencer barely moved.

“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it, then.” She cast a hesitant glance at Spencer, who nodded to her, and she seemed to take that as a sign it was safe for her to leave them alone.

“Spencer?”

[cmincorrrctquotes]

Prentiss, to Reid: What's the first thing you notice when someone approaches you?

Morgan, holding his hand: The audacity.

[spritehouse]

listen i know i have a few more "mutual self destruction ship" fics then most mentally stable people out there, but here's a concept for another

today i present: married moreid facing the mundane (a concept inspired by nothing's new by rio romeo & no children by the mountain goats)

they're not agents anymore; both of them got out—they escaped every expectation held for them and the horrors they've seen.

they're both in therapy. spencer is sober, derek is finding healthy ways to outlet his anger; everything is good.

and for the first time in their lives, they aren't running from anything or chasing something—there's no race; the adrenaline is gone, and they don't know what to do with themselves.

they aren't quite the self-fulfilling prophecies they were decades ago—keeping everyone at arm's length and lashing out, yelling "i was right! no one will hurt me!" when everyone eventually leaves them—but old habits die hard.

they fight more about stupid things—derek forgot to go grocery shopping or spencer left his things all over the floor and his husband tripped over them, things they'd never normally have problems with—until they're lashing out at each other over every little thing, telling themselves, "i told you. nothing good that i get lasts."

they try couples therapy, different schedules, listen to every bit of advice they can get, anything to keep them afloat, but they're too busy protecting themselves to really get to the root of the problem

so they take a break.

spencer visits emily in london and enrolls in some classes there, and derek spends time in the mountains with hotch to disconnect from everything, and they're happy again

and a few months later, they're together again, walking on eggshells and waiting for the other shoe to drop, and they're misrable

anyways i dont have an ending for this yet, sorry but you get the vicious circle vibes im going for

[justjasper]

moreid + kisses on the eyelids !

Morgan is still asleep when Reid wakes to warm summer light streaming in through the window. It's a strange hour, as Morgan is ususally the early riser, sometimes even going for a run and a shower and then bringing coffee to him before he's even stirring.

He's careful not to rouse Morgan as he moved over him, his hair blown around by each slow inhale from Morgan's nose. He looks peaceful, here in their bed.

Reid puts a feather-soft kiss on each of his eyelids; Morgan snuffles a bit. Reid settles into the warmth of him, puts his hand over Morgan's chest, finds his steady heartbeat there. The last case was long, and the few days off are precious, and Morgan deserves rest. Reid could fill multiple volumes with what Morgan deserves, ready to check each one off for the rest of his life.

[handmemyshovel]

i just want to know which ship is more popular in the cm fandom here. and personally I LOVE THEM BOTH and having to choose kind of kills me.

moreid definitely has more background and depth in it. they both have parent issues, both have been through so much on the team together, they confide in each other which is straight up adorable. yet they are SO DIFFERENT but fit so perfectly. morgan, the muscles that ‘all’ the girls want, and reid, the brains that supposedly no one would want. morgan with his teasing that flusters reid like it’s no one’s business and then reid info dumping and morgan aCTUALLY LISTENS and is interested (usually). they both admire each other for their differences and can support each other where one of them may fall. idk it’s just really cute. also “pretty boy” ?? we know that wasn’t platonic.

then ralvez, a bit like moreid BUT NOT. at first i feel like reid would totally feel guilty about liking some other guy right after morgan leaves but as time goes on HE JUST FALLS FOR HIM HARDER but anyways— alvez always seems so interested in what reid has to say it’s so cutesdhfn i remember when the others would get so annoyed with reid’s info dumping but as far as i remember LUKE NEVER WAS HE ALWAYS LISTENS also how come i feel like they were always put together when alvez first joined?? aLSO can we not forget how hard alvez worked to get reid out of prison with the rest of the team even when he didn’t know him that well?!? he got so protective over reid. and overall the ship is just cute. they are both babygirl but strong men at the same time. they obviously belong together.

[satchels-and-socks]

Love can rise out of the ashes

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, heartbroken Spencer, frustrated and longing Derek

Pairing: Moreid

Summary: Spencer is heartbroken after Maeve. Spencer locks himself away and becomes a shell of his formal self. Derek realized something and is determined to show Spencer that life goes on and how someone other than Maeve is truly in love with him.

It had been two weeks after Dr. Maeve Donovan's death. It absolutely drove Spencer mad that they couldn't save her he couldn't believe that he wasn't able to save the love of his life but, one thing was for certain it wasn't for the lack of trying they were just too late.

Maybe if he was faster maybe if he was smarter he could have saved her. If perhaps he was strong like Morgan and even smarter than he was he would have been able to save her life.

Or perhaps maybe he was cursed maybe if he hadn't met her maybe she would still be alive. Maybe it was his fault it just seems like anyone he loved leaves him in one way or the other.

Spencer had still been working although he doesn't really leave his apartment he keeps himself busy by joining cases over the phone. The other team members have accepted the fact that he's not ready or perhaps will never be ready to go back into the field again so they just use him for his amazing academic skills although he doesn't feel like a genius anymore.

Spencer hardly ever sleeps in his bed anymore he usually passes out on the couch with a book across this chest. He eats enough to keep himself alive but he really doesn't enjoy it anymore he feels like his life ended the day Marve's did.

Derek for some reason had become more and more irritable. Sometimes snapping at people for no reason or at least not a reason anyone could think of.

"Damnit chocolate thunder you've been madder than a wet hornet for nearly two weeks now and it needs to end now! There's no sense of it I mean my God I hardly get to see our beautiful gray matter anymore he's my best friend he's like a brother to me. Now you're my best friend and you hardly even talk to me or flirt with me over the phone anymore now what is going on with you?"Penelope huffed out harshly in a very sharp voice totally out of her sweet and passive sweetness that she usually has when talking to Derek.

"I'm sorry baby girl I don't mean to be such a jackass. It's just I realize something about myself and it's pissing me off. I realize that I'm in love with someone and I don't know what to do about it. I realized I've been in love with someone and I don't know what the hell to do about it so I'm not mad at you I guess I'm mad at myself and mad at a dead person."Derek grumbled and closed his eyes.

"I need you to breathe chocolate thunder and I need you to look at me. I know you're not really mad at a dead person but, you really are in love with our boy genius aren't you? You've been in love with him for years and haven't really realized it."Penelope said softly changing her tone a little bit realizing it wasn't her that he was mad at. Her whole demeanor changed her best friend was in love with her brother and it kind of warmed her heart she smiled a little.

"I think you might be right. I just never realized how much I loved him until I saw how much it hurt him to see her die. I wanted just to wrap him up in my arms I wanted to hold him but at the same time I knew that it wasn't the right time."Derek could feel his own heart breaking even more he just wanted to fix Spencer to hold him to tell him that he loved him to show him that everything would be okay in time to tell him that he had been in love with him since the first time he saw him.

"So instead you keep those feelings to yourself and set by and watch the love of your life destroy himself? I know you're hurting but you can't take it out on everyone else it isn't right. I know you may not want to hear this but, if you really do love him and you love him all this time you need to tell him. If you want to hold him tell him how you feel because I tell you right now he loves you the same way he always has. Right now he really needs someone to help him through this rough time I know we've all been trying but I really think he needs you I think he loves you too but he doesn't know that you love him." Penelope said quietly looking at Derek with sweetness in her eyes.

"Yeah baby girl you're right I mean you usually are. I'm not sure what I need to say though. I mean there is a chance that he might not love me the same way that I love him." Derek closed his eyes and set on the break room table putting his feet on a chair.

"Maybe I can help you write a note to slip under his door. Maybe I can help you put your feelings into words you can tell him how you really feel. I know there is a chance he might not feel the same way but I'm pretty sure that he loves you the way you love him you ought to see the way he looks at you. But, even if he doesn't he's still going to love you like a brother I can tell that that would never change there's too much love in him for that to change. But, you'll never know unless you try unless you tell him how you feel don't wait until it's too late you'll regret it." Penelope said quietly she pulled out a chair and sat down in front of him taking one of his hands and rubbing it softly.

Derek looked at her and smiled sadly he nodded his head knowing that she was right he had to do it no matter how much he tried to hide it he was in love with Spencer he closed his eyes and opened them as if he was trying to clear his mind before speaking.

"Yeah I think we should write that note you can help me word it if you want to. I know what I want to say I just don't know exactly know how to put it in words."Derek smiled and took Penelope's hand that was rubbing his and kissed it gently.

The two best friends worked on that note for hours trying to get it just exactly the way that Derek wanted.

Spencer was wondering around his apartment Reading a book in different rooms trying everything to keep his mind off of her. He wanted to move on he really did but he didn't know if he could because that was the first time he ever felt anything for anyone except he had feelings for Derek but he didn't know what they were.

Spencer got out a little saucepan and put on some water to make macaroni and cheese. He then got out a little pan for the oven and placed some dinosaur chicken nuggets on it he placed it on top of the stove while waiting for the oven to preheat.

Spencer then proceeded to walk into the living room setting on the couch continuing to read a book. He jumped a little when he saw a note slipping underneath the crack of his front door.

Spencer got the letter in unfolded it he was looking it over.

Dear Spencer,

I know you're going through a rough time right now and nothing I can say can make it any easier not really. I know losing your first love is a tough thing to go through and more likely than not you'll never ever forget it.

But, she would want you to be happy she would want you to find happiness you know love can rise from the ashes. Beautiful things can come your way and maybe just maybe there's someone who has always loved you since the first time they laid eyes on you.

Why do you think I call you pretty boy all the time? Did you think it was some kind of a joke I mean yeah perhaps a little of it was teasing but you are very pretty in fact you're beautiful. I always did love you but I didn't know how much I loved you until I saw how losing Dr Donovan hurt you I hate seeing you hurting like that because I love you very much. Pretty boy I don't want you to go through this alone I'm here for you whether you love me as a brother or a lover I don't care I want to help you through this.

I'm waiting right outside your door and if you love me it doesn't matter in what way open it up and let me in I want to help you please let me help you.

Love you forever and always,

Derek Hank Morgan

Spencer's eyes begin to tear up when he read those words he watched as little puddles appeared on the piece of notebook paper. He stood up slowly and peeked out his peak hole to see if Derek was standing there and he was. Derek was standing there staring at his feet Spencer wondered if this was just some kind of cruel joke he hesitated for a little bit before putting his hand on the door knob he opened it slowly.

Spencer didn't say a word he just stared at Derek his eyes were red and puffy he's been crying so much. He carefully wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his baggy sweatshirt.

"Hey pretty boy can I come in or are we just going to stay out in the hallway like this?" Derek ask with a little smile he stepped a little closer to Spencer.

Spencer winched a little but didn't pull away as Derek pulled him into a tight hug Spencer hugged him back. Spencer sniffled a little still hugging Derek.

"Derek I'm so confused. I loved her I think she might have been my first love but I love you too. I think I have for a while."Spencer mumbled into Derek's shoulder still hugging him really tightly.

"I know kiddo I know it hurts it probably hurts like hell. I love you and I'm here to help you let me help you let me take care of you could ya do that for me kid? We'll take it slow as slow as you want we'll get through this we'll get through this together kiddo."Derek said giving Spencer a tight squeeze before letting go and put in a little space between them so he could look Spencer in the eyes.

"I love you too very much Derek I'm making some lunch it's not much but I like it if you would join me. It's macaroni and cheese and dinosaur chicken nuggets."Spencer said really softly as he gave Derek a little soft kiss on the lips before opening the door and walking inside hoping that Derek would follow him.

Derek huffed out a little laugh and followed Spencer inside setting on the couch he watched him for a moment before speaking.

"Yeah that sounds great kid but I'm going to make us dinner tonight. We'll get through this kiddo I promise it might take a while but we'll get through this." Derek said with a little smile on his face.

The end....? (There may be a part two)

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@f-me-reid @buckaroo118 @badgerdryad @girlboygarfield @ssamorganhotchner @urxsavingxgrace @spencermyangel