#criminal minds fix it fic

[venusbyline]

I really loved your fanfic with Cat Adams! It was sooo goodd 💙💙 I wouldn't be opposed if you want to write more for her 😂 ~ 🐳

thanksss <3 <3 sorry Spencie BUT I LOVEEEEE MY EVIL AND PYSCHO GIRL SO MUCH 😭😭 i really wanna write more fics about her soon

Smart - Cat Adams x female!reader

[storiesofsvu]

A Thin Line

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, some medical situations (again, likely some inaccuracies, don't come for me), minor mentions of the Lauren arc/past trauma/anxiety, but mainly fluff and all happy ending! Covers a bingo square for @prentiss-theorem and also is a fix it fic (i guess lol) for s7e15 of the same title. I just thought things were kinda brushed over in the aftermath.... so here we are.

The team had been in San Bernardino, California for nearly a week now solving what was originally thought to be a series of home invasions linked to gangs in the area. It was after piecing together the threads and a victim getting away that you were able to apprehend the unsub, the team was split up between addresses, Rossi, Reid and Hotch over at the unsubs while Morgan, JJ, Emily and you were heading to Councilwoman Hillary Ross’, knowing that she was one of two next likely targets.

Everything seemed to be going to plan as Derek and JJ snuck around to the back of the house, waiting only on you and Em to burst through the front as Emily announced herself, calling out into the house at just the wrong moment. Her eyes darted toward the unsub, noting the gun in his hand, pointed directly at her and only a second later she felt the burning in her shoulder, jolting back into the wall behind her as she groaned.

“Shit!”

“You’re hit.” You stalled, turning back to her and she nudged you in the direction of the unsub.

“I’m fine!”

“He’s upstairs!” You called over to the other two who had burst through the back door, flying up the stairs to take the unsub down.

“Go.” Emily urged, wincing as your hand came up to the injury, pressing against the wound.

“Like hell I’m going anywhere right now.” You muttered, tugging at your radio to call for medics.

“I said I’m fine.” She insisted, nudging at you once more, “you can go.”

“It’s already two on one, I’m sure they’re doing great. And you’re not fine, you just took a bullet Emily.” You could feel her blood slowly seeping in between your fingers, you would’ve been worried if it wasn’t for the amount of attitude you were getting from her, the scowl persistent on her face.

“It’s nothing.” She grumbled, letting out an annoyed sigh at the flashing lights outside as the ambulance pulled up, “oh come on.”

“You’re gonna need stitches at the bare minimum, c’mon.” Gently lifting her arm over your shoulder you helped her outside and to the paramedics.

Much to Emily’s dismay, she was told she would likely need more than just stitches, that an actual doctor would have to take a look at her before making the official decision and before she knew it she was being transported to a hospital. Even more annoying was that her adrenaline was starting to wear off, the fight or flight draining from her body as the pain began to creep in. She winced as she moved on the stretcher, letting out a quiet hiss and felt her cheeks flushing as your gaze shot to her, concern in your eyes.

“We’re almost there.” You murmured softly, reaching to squeeze her hand, almost surprised at the way her hand wrapped around your thumb, keeping you there instead of letting you pull away. The touch brought a comfort Emily needed but wasn’t ready to ask for, wasn’t ready to admit she even wanted. Her gaze remained turned away from you as she let out a low breath, trying to will the immense pain in her shoulder to go away.

The emergency room was a cacophony of noises, patients crying, yelping out, doctors, paramedics and nurses calling out to each other, demanding what they needed for their cases, alarm bells going off, phones ringing off the hook, the whir and beeping of machines. It was completely overstimulating and enough to block out the pain Emily was feeling briefly while they rolled her through the admittance stages. Your hand had been ripped away from hers as they’d unloaded her from the ambulance, leaving a cold spot on her skin as she tried to block out her surroundings. The lights were bright, still harsh even if she closed her eyes, she felt someone prodding at her skin as they started an IV, grimacing as the needle pierced her skin, the smell of rubbing alcohol burning at her nostrils. The noises from the ER were now slightly muffled, but there were as many beeping monitors and fast talking doctors moving around her right now. She could just hear your voice over the hum of noise, giving her credentials and details of what happened to a doctor, conversation talked over by one of the paramedics as she heard her stats being listed off. She was hooked up to another couple of machines, creating more beeping that was beginning to overwhelm her before the room suddenly seemed to empty.

“Paramedics patched you up pretty good.” Your voice rung through the air and her eyes cracked open, looking up at you with hesitancy in her eyes.

“Then we can go, right?”

“No.” You laughed softly, “you’re just not as emergent as some of the other cases. You’re under observation until they can get you a CT to check for internal damages and we’ll go from there.”

“I hate hospitals.” She grumbled, shifting awkwardly on the gurney, hating how on display she felt. The remaining nurse in the room seemed to sense her uncomfortable-ness, moving over and adjusting it so it was propped up and she could sit upright.

“It shouldn’t be too long Agent Prentiss; they’re just waiting for a backlog at the CT machine to clear out.” They explained, giving you both a brief smile before they disappeared from the room.

“Since when do you have a problem with hospitals?” You asked, dropping onto a spare stool, watching her curiously.

“I’ve just spent enough time in and out of them over the past year.” She replied quietly, ducking her gaze as she picked at her fingernails.

“Hey,” your hand reached out, stopping her destructive movements and she glanced toward you, “you’re non emergent, you’re sitting upright and talking and like you’ve been insisting since Ross’, you’re fine.”

“Thanks.” She flashed a tight smile to you and you squeezed at her hand, only pulling away when your phone pinged and you dug it out of your pocket to read the message.

“They got him, finishing up paperwork now. Hotch wants to know if you want them to meet us here.”

“Oh god no!” Emily groaned, wincing as she moved her arm to run a hand over her face, “I don’t need a fucking audience waiting for me. Tell him they can go home, hell, you can go with them.”

“Well tough titty.” You pocketed your phone, “I’m not going anywhere. You got shot; I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Emily felt a warmth spreading through her chest, knowing that she had someone by her side for the entire thing, unlike last time, she wasn’t facing this on her own. She felt her heart start to calm down rather than racing in her chest, sighing softly as her body relaxed into the stretcher. She was fine, she was going to be fine.

“You’re too nice to me, you know that.” She rolled her head to look at you, a dopey smile on her face and you practically snorted.

“I think those drugs are starting to kick in Prentiss.”

She frowned, pouting at you and you laughed again, this time glancing away as you prayed she was too distracted to pick up on the thudding of your heart in your chest.

Okay. Maybe the warmth spreading through her was the painkillers, but at least she wasn’t focusing on the pain in her shoulder and the terror of being trapped in a hospital anymore.

Though that sense of calm and comfort only lasted the next hour. The results from the CT were exactly what Emily didn’t want to hear.

“Surgery?!” She protested, “you can’t be serious! Can’t you just leave it in?”

“No.” The doctor chuckled softly, “that risks more damage than taking it out.”

“So just rip it out now, here.”

“I do that and you’re gonna hate me for how much pain your in.” They countered.

“Full blown surgery just seems like a complete waste of time and resources.” Emily commented, “for something as trivial as this?”

“Agent Prentiss, I can assure you it’s a very simple procedure and it won’t take very long at all. We’ll have you patched up and out of here by morning with some pain killers.”

“No I—”

“If there’s an issue with pain killers, general anesthesia isn’t in the same, you’ll most likely sleep it off and only feel a little bit groggy when you wake up from being under.”

“No, that’s the part I don’t want.” Emily felt like her heart was beating out of her chest, her throat tight and she wasn’t fully able to catch her breath. The beeping next to her seemed to be getting louder with each moment that flickered by and she was sinking into a nightmare where she couldn’t tell tonight apart from the last night she’d spent in a hospital.

“Em…” Your voice was soft, your hand coming up to squeeze at hers gently, thumb rubbing reassuringly, a cool touch on her burning skin. “Just breathe for me, okay?” You turned to the doctor, “is there any way you could do this with a local anesthesia or something? Something where she doesn’t have to be asleep?”

“There likely isn’t a doctor who would.” He replied, “the CT didn’t give full visibility, if an artery gets nicked we’d have to put her under in a rush and adding extra things on the to do list in a situation like that isn’t ideal. I didn’t see anything in her medical history about a reaction to anesthesia.”

“It’s not exactly medical.” You replied, feeling Emily’s hand squeezing at yours.

“I don’t have the greatest track record with being put under.” She muttered and the beeping on the heart monitor started to increase again.

“Hey…” you shifted from your spot on the stool so you were perched on the edge of the gurney, grabbing her other hand, “look at me.” You waited for a moment until she actually looked up at you, the fear in her eyes slowly melting away as you shot her a small smile, “you need to stop deflecting and shutting down. They’re just trying to do their jobs and get you outta here healthy and in one piece, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen. You’ve got a bullet in your shoulder and the longer it’s in there the more risk you’re at, so let’s do this, okay? You’re not alone, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere okay? I’ll take care of you. I’ll be as close by as I possibly can the entire time, I mean, they’ve gotta give us some leeway, we are federal agents.” You raised a brow in the direction of the doctor who let out a huff of a laugh mixed with a sigh.

“I’ll have someone escort you to the gallery.”

“Thank you.” You nodded, “And like you being knocked out is gonna have me running off, I promise. I’ll be there the whole time and when you wake up.”

Emily let out a long low breath, the tightness in her chest finally easing as chewed on her lip, “okay. You better not be lying, if I wake up on the other side of the country you’ll be the one with a bullet lodged in your shoulder.”

“Em!” You scolded with a laugh, watching as a small smile finally broke out on her lips.

Emily focused on her breathing and remaining calm, listening to your voice as you walked with them all the way down to the OR floor. She wasn’t even sure what you were rambling on about, you always had the most ridiculous stories from when you babysat your nephew and they were mindless enough yet also wild enough that it would steer her mind away from the thought of being put under again. You squeezed her hand once more, saying a quick ‘see you soon’ before you were taken up to the gallery and you watched the way Emily’s eyes flicked toward you as she counted down from ten, letting out a breath to know that you were there, watching over her and this would be over before she even knew it.

The low beeping and dull ache in her shoulder were what roused her first, shifting slightly in the bed with a quiet groan, trying not to agitate her shoulder too much. Without opening her eyes she knew there was a soft light coming from somewhere in the room, much nicer than the glare of the fluorescent overheads and the next thing her ears picked up was the sound of a page of a book being turned before the creaking of a chair.

“Em?” Your voice whispered into the night, leaning forward against the side of the bed and she groaned, her eyes fluttering open.

“Shit still sucks.” She complained, pushing herself up to sitting and you let out a chuckle.

“How’s the pain?”

“Not too bad.” She swallowed, reaching out for the glass of water on the nightstand. As she fully woke up and her eyes adjusted to the light in the room she was able to take you in, spotting the bags under your eyes, the slight redness in them and the fact that you’d somehow snagged a hospital issued hoodie that was about three sizes too big to curl up in. “How late is it?” She asked and you looked at your watch.

“Almost six.” You replied with a tired yawn.

“You haven’t slept yet.” It wasn’t a question; it was an observation and you shrugged.

“I wanted to be awake when you came to, doctor said it wouldn’t be too long. And I definitely wasn’t about to sleep while you were in surgery, besides, it was pretty cool to watch.”

Emily observed you for a moment, her eyes drilling into you so much that you ducked your gaze, picking up your own drink to distract yourself, praying the heat in your cheeks wasn’t noticeable in the low light of the room.

“Why would you do this much for me? You could have left with the rest of the team.”

“I promised you wouldn’t be alone. I care about you, I wanted you to feel safe, I mean, you’re my… friend.” You shrugged it off, picking at the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Okay, now who’s shutting down and deflecting?” She asked with a tease in her voice, prodding at your arm and you let out a soft sigh, glancing back up at her with a playful glare in your eyes.

“Being in the hospital alone sucks enough on its own. The last time you had surgery you woke up across the world completely isolated and if that was me I would’ve been terrified. I know you don’t want to admit it and I’ll never mention it to the rest of the team but you were scared earlier and I wanted to make sure you knew I would be here for you, no matter what. And I… would like to hope that if the tables were turned that you’d do the same for me?”

“Are you kidding me?” A laugh burst from her lips, “of course I would! I really don’t think you have any idea how much you mean to me. You still being on the team and being around was the main reason I decided to stay, no matter how awkward it was with everyone else.”

“Now you’re just making stuff up.” You ducked your gaze once again, this time no doubt the blush on your cheeks noticeable.

“Not at all.” Emily’s finger curled under your chin, turning your eyes up to her, “you were an absolute sweetheart today without even needing to ask and that was exactly what I needed, even if I am too stubborn to say anything. When we get back I’d really like to pay you back by taking you to dinner.”

“Really?” Your brow furrowed, wondering if she was finally stepping across the line the two of you had been toeing since she’d gotten back.

“Yeah.” She softly pinched at your chin, “you can read me better than anyone else. You know me almost better than I do some days and… I really care about you too.”

“Okay.” You laughed softly, the smile remaining on your cheeks, “well then I think that sounds great.”

“Great.” She smiled across at you, “it’s a date.” She gently tugged at your arm, “now c’mon, you need to get some sleep and there’s plenty of room up here.”

With a small laugh you shifted, kicking off your shoes and sliding under the blanket into Emily’s embrace, careful not to nudge her left arm too much. You let out a small yawn as you nestled into her uninjured shoulder, her free arm wrapping around you as she relaxed back into the bed, a sigh of relief finally feeling you in her arms. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she was completely safe and wouldn’t have to worry about being alone ever again, not with you around. Her lips brushed against the top of your head; a feather light kiss left on your hair as she spoke.

“Thank you.”

________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @strongsassysexysloane @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble

[frankiebirds]

i think it's interesting that reid looks at gideon specifically right after this line. maybe it's just that he feels gideon looking at him. maybe its just that they're close. or maybe he looks towards gideon because it hurts particularly badly that gideon didnt help :(

[somefanficrecomendations]

X-MEN PODFIC REC

An Act Too Often Neglected read by reena_jenkins First Class, (Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier), 12 min Logan didn’t much like Erik Lehnsherr when he first met him in a bar about a year ago. Logan likes him a lot less after he dumps Logan’s tranquilized carcass on Charles Xavier’s doorstep like a dog presenting its owner with a stunned rabbit.

But Also the Sex Thing read by aethel-multivioce, elaineofshallot, reena_jenkins, secretsofluftnarp, Shmaylor, silverandblue, wingedwords Alternate Timeline Movies, (Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier), 17 min, Crack, Matchmaking Professor X and Magneto have a few additional instructions for Logan, as long as, you know, he's going to be back in time

Enigma read by paraka Movieverse, (Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier), 1.5hrs, Time-Travel Fix-It      Written for the following prompt: Erik dies, or finds a reversey-time mutant, or a magical time travelling device, and wakes up in the past. This time, though, it's before he ever met Charles - in fact, it's before his mother died.      He can save his mother that one time (thanks to his mastery over powers carrying back), but what does Erik do after that? Does he stick around, or escape and run to find Charles again (and hope everything doesn't go wrong)?

Just Like A Child read by quietnight Deadpool, (Vanessa Carlysle/Wade Wilson), 56 mins     “Honey,” Wade calls over his shoulder without taking his eyes off their visitor. “Why is there a teenage mutant in our breakfast nook? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he says to Negasonic, who raises her eyebrows owlishly.      Vanessa comes out of the bedroom and hooks her chin over Wade’s shoulder.      “Do you think she heard me getting my spanking?” he whispers. “Because that was *private* noise.”      “I don’t know,” Vanessa says. “But she looks like she needs some coffee and pancakes, don’t you think?”      Negasonic grins. It’s scary as fuck.

If You Liked The Book, You'll Hate The Movie read by croissantkatie First Class, (multi), 6.25 hrs, AU-No Powers, AU-High School It’s not until Hank realizes half the class are glancing towards the back of the classroom with something like nerves and something like schadenfreude that he finds out Alex Summers is back.

Meeting the Family read by SalazarTipton X-Men x Criminal Minds, (Remy LeBeau/Spencer Reid) 35 mins, 5+1 The five times that Remy meets Spencer's family on his own and then the time the whole team truly meets Remy and Spencer's actually there for that one.

[rianavi]

nightmare (spencer reid x reader)

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer shows up at your door late at night, hoping that you can somehow calm him down from his nightmare

contains: comfort/hurt, fluff, angst (if you squint), reader and spencer arent dating yet, mutual pining, obsession, nightmares, talk of murder

wc: 0.5k just a short drabble

Your sat at your couch, mug of tea in hand while you flip through the pages of your book.

This was something you’ve down your whole career. Working with the BAU meant a lot of stressful cases and sights. Sometimes all you needed was to relax and escape into the fantasy world of Faerie.

You had just marked your page and began to get ready for bed when you heard a knock at the door.

Your surprised when you find Spencer standing at your door, hands intertwined in front of him while he rocks on his heels.

“Spencer? What’s going on? Come on in.” You open the door fully and gesture him in. Locking the door behind him.

He stands in front of you, hands twitching and ears flushed red. “I, uh, didn’t know where else to go.”

You notice the slight tremble in his voice, even when he covers it with a cough.

Worried you hesitantly grab his hand and pull him over to the couch. You sat down putting some distance between the two of you and let go of his hand, knowing he has a thing for germs.

You miss the frown on his face before he clears his throat and begins speaking. “I had a dream. A bad one.”

He looks up at you and takes in the warmth and nurturing feeling that radiates from you. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, leaning into the arm of the couch and pulling a blanket over your bare legs.

“Um, it was about the case. Except it was you who had gone in instead of Hotch. It wasn’t just some cuts and scrapes either, you had gotten shot. In the hospital, the doctors told us that you wouldn’t make it.” He whispers the last part and looks down at his hands while they fiddle with the frayed ends of his sweater.

“Spencer, it’s okay to have nightmares, everyone does. Hell even Hotch does. I’m alright, I’m alive and well, sitting right here.” I grab his hand and look into his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

“But what if you’re not? What if someday you get hurt and- and you don’t come back.” He moves his hands around frantically before staring at you.

“What if you don’t come back to me?” He whispers, voice trembling and hands grabbing at yours.

The sight makes your heart break and you immediately grab onto his wrists, mindful not to hurt him.

“Spencer you listen to me. I am okay, I am alive, and I will always come back to you. There’s a reason we go in with backup and spend time planning. I promise you Spencer I won’t go away.”

You stare into his eyes and slide your hands into his. “Besides it’s not that easy to get rid of me.”

He smiles at you and shuffles forward wrapping his arms around your waist.

Taken aback you freeze, your hands hover over his back and your breath hitches.

Before he takes your halt in the wrong way, you wrap your arms around his neck while he burries his face into your neck, enjoying your warmth.

“Thank you.” He whispers softly into your hair.

The rain against your window seems to match up with his breathing.

[soul-wanderer]

Will "how dare you want some privacy in terms of your private life when it comes to your work"

Will "I don't care about your wish for privacy and will tell your entire team that you are pregnant"

Will "I am going to propose to you in front of your team so you can't say no, because I know you were unsure if you wanted to get married in the first place"

Will "I am going to accuse and guilt trip you for being passionate about your job, something I have known since day one, but goodness forbid a woman wants to be more than a mother"

JJ "you are my husband, but you are not the one I cry for when I need to be saved"

but also

JJ "you are my husband, but you are not the one I confide in when I am at my worst"

[missmitchieg]

I went looking for fics with a certain tag and saw this

so I'm writing a fic to rectify that

[50044w44s]

Spencer will never love Sky the way Sky loves Spencer.

Fic: Underground Affluence on AO3

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Hey!

Just wanna say I really like your writing🫶🏻😊

I’m just curious to why you write like this:

_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on your height) 

_y/e/p’s/n_ = your ex-partner’s name (the ex is an ass so add the name of someone you dislike here) 

_y/n_ = your name 

I only ask because in the time I’m reading I will forget what they stand for (except y/n)😅

But also because I find it unpleasant (idk the right word for it?) for my reading when I read _y/n_ instead of just y/n. Like y/n it’s just more simple if that make sense?

Idk if anyone feels the same, but yeah I still really like your work🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi lovely Anon!

Thank you so much for your ask and that you like my writing 😊

I have actually answered this before and you can see that post here (linked) I also did a poll on it and everyone voted that I start formatting _y/n_ as y/n which I now do. So if you go to my page, all my fics starting with Roses and Sparkling Water are formatted the new way! I do really care about how my readers feel about formatting so I have started to change that. I haven't had time to go back to my old fics and change the old formatting to the new yet. However, I do like consistency, so maybe I'll try and start going back and doing one a week until they are all y/n instead of _y/n_. I'll update this post when that happens.

As for the _u/sf/d_ bits, I do that to be as inclusive as possible. I know that if I was standing in front of Hotch, I'd have to look up at him, but not all of my followers are my height. I want to make sure people feel like they can actually picture themselves in the reader's shoes and not just have it be an insert of me.

Thank you so much for your kind ask and for letting me know you like my work. That makes me soooo happy. I'm kicking my feet as we speak in the coffee shop. I hope you have a lovely day and week Anon - Levi ❤️

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

I accept and appreciate all comments and constructive criticisms of all my work. As a teacher, it is highly appreciated. I also love mail, so if you wanna tell me something about our fav little guys or have a story idea or request, feel free to ask me.

[gold-onthe-inside]

if anyone needs more evidence of criminal minds being copaganda, in exit wounds they literally haul in everyone who's got a prior, or a bruise or bloody clothes and then keep a suspect in custody for 24 hours when there's no evidence of wrongdoing and act like it's a completely reasonable thing to do because 'hey, if you're in custody and the killer strikes again, then you're in the clear' ... which by the way is exactly the kind of logic they used in fucking witch trials and is not how the law is supposed to work ... and THEN HIS MOM IS KILLED and they're really just gonna go like, oops?

fucking look at that holding cell. what the fuck?

[teawan]

just watched the tobias hankel eps. I don't think anyone understands the emotional turmoil I just went through my heart was pounding that was so fucking terrifying and I can't believe they just. moved on. I literally just sat there and watched the show and I feel like I need therapy.

[queer-whatchamacallit]

So I’ve started a project of how I would rewrite criminal minds if given the opportunity and also the ability to research a lot of things

One of the main critiques is that everyone (Spencer) experiences an unrealistic amount of trauma that doesn’t progress them at all or makes them worse characters

This is how I would rewrite Hotch’s leaving, so it’s still traumatic but not in a senseless ‘way too many serial killers have attacked this guy’ kinda way

Jack has spent most of his life disliking that his beloved dad wasn’t there a lot but knowing that he couldn’t change this at all

He doesn’t want to say anything because he knows it’ll make Hotch feel bad, but sometimes he wonders if his dad doesn’t want to be home with him

He’s 11, and Jess tells him that Hotch is going to be late coming home again. He confides all that in her

She just tells Aaron that Jack has been having a hard time lately with the fact that Hotch is unreliable

He promises he’ll make it to Jack’s friend hangout because they all want to hear about him being in the FBI, but they had to reschedule twice

Jack starts being more distant with him

It all culminates when Hotch is working a case in New York and a snow storm is just starting to fall

It’s like 4 pm, and they’re not really getting anywhere in the case

Then Hotch gets a call from Jess saying that Jack just had a seizure lasting almost 6 minutes, and she already called an ambulance

Hearing this, he immediately drops what he’s doing, packs up his go-bag and takes one of the police cars to the airport

All of the flights are delayed because of the snow, so he starts driving in the snowy soon-to-be dark all the way to Virginia

Maybe an hour into the drive, he’s just crossed the border into Pennsylvania, there’s snow blowing wildly across the view of his headlights, it’s gotten a little bit dark, and in his desperation, he hits the car in front of him

*insert dramatic cut away to everyone else working on the case in show, except I have no idea what the case would be, so we’ll go back to the this*

It would later prove to only leave a little dent on both cars, but he put the car in park, gripped the steering wheel with whitening knuckles, and bashed his head back into the seat as hard as he can

He let out a sigh between gritted teeth and got out to greet the other driver

“One hell of a storm, huh?”

Hotch hummed. He didn’t have time to talk about the fucking weather

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

He’d hardly noticed. “I’m fine, but believe or not, I’m in a bit of a hurry, so I don’t mean to be rude, but I really can’t waste much time.”

“Sure thing.”

The two exchanged everything they needed to exchange before getting out of the biting cold, and Hotch resumed driving

He made it to the hospital around midnight

Jack’s doing pretty okay, but even if he knows Hotch couldn’t have gotten there any quicker, it still feels horrible that he wasn’t there for him for a very scary experience

Hotch decides to work from the office for the next couple cases, but it very quickly starts to make him antsy

A little over a month later, Jack has another seizure (this time 4 min but still) and gets diagnosed with epilepsy

Knowing that he hasn’t felt this uncomfortable in a job since his time as a prosecutor and knowing that he can’t have a repeat of fearing for hours that he might not be there for Jack, his favorite person in the world when he’s confused and terrified, he leaves the BAU

I don’t know how much of this v you’d be able to see in show, but I just like thinking about it

He starts working as a high school psych teacher in Jack’s school district (being near DC, there wasn’t exactly an opening for a criminology teacher)

He’s able to be a much better father to Jack, and he doesn’t forgive Hotch right away, but they slowly grow back together

With the reliable school schedule, Hotch is able to start attending therapy appointments and repairing the very bad everything about his brain functions

Jack convinces him to start a podcast about his BAU experience and basic profiling, and it’s fairly successful

Garcia finds it and shares it with the rest of the team

A couple years later, everyone has a sort of reunion, and Hotch seems happier than anyone’s seen him for as long as they can remember

[mostclevermiss]

Introducing, Alejandra Milani: expert interrogator, has no time for anyone’s shit, blacklisted by the CIA and Homeland, the Argentinian Menace, and the woman who is about to sweep Spencer Reid off his mismatched-socked feet.

Face claim for SSA Alejandra Milani (picrew made by poika)

[gaydryad]

working on pride art in advance and having way too much fun futzing around with outfit colors. ft. the new aperiodic regular tile

[spencerreidenjoyer]

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling. 

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose. 

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom. 

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute. 

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious. 

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach. 

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you. 

“Kiss me some more,” you coax. 

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure. 

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all. 

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you. 

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs. 

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs. 

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better. 

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day. 

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him. 

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else. 

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna…”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it. 

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently. 

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin. 

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement. 

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

[zyhkoo]

🌊 love.

fluff, f!civilian. inspired by @mostly-imagines ‘ fics, slightly ooc i think..

( how jason’s stone heart softens around you. pt 2 )

Love was a very foreign concept for Jason. He has read books, watched movies with the batgirls and watch the corny love shows Dick binges but nothing seems to him show him how to love.

Sure, there are some things he likes. He likes a few things, but nothing seems to be ‘love.’

Love? It was only for the naive and the vulnerable. He had seen too many people get hurt, including himself. Love makes a person weak, those feelings would lead to mistakes and pain. So he thought he was better off without it. How could he love something, when he doesn’t even love himself?

It was a snowy night, he was leaned over some random apartment’s wall holding over his wound. His hand was pressed against his side as he felt the blood seep between his fingers. He grits his teeth in pain, the cold nipping at skin.

It was a bad night, he had been caught off by a group of criminals who ambushed and destroyed his earbud for communication. He had no choice but to seek refuge, the nearest safe house was 30 minutes away and he couldn’t make it. As the footsteps grew closer, Jason tensed up, his hand instinctively going for the gun strapped to his hip. But before he could draw his weapon, the figure came into view, wrapped in winter clothes for warmth.

Jason's eyes narrowed, trying to make out the figure's features in the low light. He had no idea if this person was a friend or foe, and as he was in no condition to fight, he would need to be cautious.

“Uh, hi?” you said, concerned about the guy on your porch. You had just come home from an odd dinner date and things couldn’t just get weirder.

Jason's eyes softened as he heard the voice addressing him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, he didn't want to startle or scare you. After all, he was in no condition to fight right now. "Hey," he responded, his voice strained from the pain. "Sorry to bother you. I just... needed a place to rest for a bit."

You looked at him, he had a damaged red helmet over his head, brown jacket and a wounded side.. isn’t this the vigilante guy? You stepped closer, but not too close. “You’re hurt.” you said, as you then looked around then back to him “D-do you need an ambulance or..?”

Jason huffed weakly, "Nah, I'll be fine. It's just a scratch" he said, trying to play it off. However, he knew he needed to do something about the wound soon. "Do you, uh, mind if I come inside for a bit? I won't be a bother, I promise."

You slowly nodded “Yeah.. yeah of course let me help.” you said as you reached out to him. Jason nodded in appreciation. He winced slightly as you reached out, still feeling the pain from his wound, but he knew he couldn't refuse any help he could get.

He leaned on you for support as he slowly stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. "Thanks," he muttered quietly. "I owe ya one, doll." You propped him on your couch, you looked down at his bleeding wound. “I can help.. uh, I know a bit of nursing.” you said.

He looked up at you, his eyes studying you intently, trying to gauge your intentions. He didn't know you, but he had no other option at the moment.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah, wait, let me find my first aid.” As you came back with the kit in your hand, you kneeled, lifting his shirt up to see the damage. As you looked at his wounded side, you could see the deep gash across his abdomen, with blood slowly seeping from the edges. It was a nasty wound, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with basic medical supplies.

Jason winced slightly as you touched his sides, hissing in pain. "It's not as bad as it looks." he muttered, trying to sound tough. You gave a skeptical look at his comment but continued to tend to his wound. As you pulled out some gauze and antiseptic, you couldn't help but notice the numerous scars that covered his stomach and chest.

Jason noticed your curious glances, and a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. He was used to the scars by now, but he still felt a sense of discomfort whenever someone would glance at them. He knew they were hard to ignore, but he preferred keeping them hidden whenever possible. He didn't like showing weakness, and the scars were a clear sign of his failures.

You continued on your work as you placed the antiseptic “This will sting.”

"Just do it," he said through clenched teeth. "I can handle it."

You proceeded to gently wipe the area around the wound with the antiseptic, making sure to clean out any dirt or debris that might have gotten inside. He tensed up, groaning slightly as the antiseptic stung his skin. You knew he tried to hide his discomfort.

“Sorry if I stared.” you said as you started to wrap the bandages, “That was rude of me.”

"It's fine," he said, his voice gruff as he spoke. "I know I'm not the prettiest sight to behold." you couldn't help but frown at his comment. There was more to him than just his scars, you thought. But you knew better than to say anything about it.

You wrapped the final knot as you dusted your hands, “I’m done.”

"Thanks," he tried to sit up straight, wincing slightly as he put pressure on his wound. You tried to make him sit “Woah woah, okay, don't push yourself.” He allowed you to gently push him back down onto the couch. He wasn't used to being told what to do, but he couldn't deny that he was still fairly weak from his injury.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

“What are you exactly?” you asked, brows furrowing. He paused for a bit, thinking on his answer " I'm a vigilante," he said, "I patrol the streets at night and take care of the bad guys."

“Do you… kill people?” He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. "Sometimes," he said quietly, his tone distant. "When there's no other choice."

"I don't enjoy it," he continued, "But sometimes violence is the only language criminals understand." You tell your name as he nodded in response, “Call me, Red Hood.” he said. You looked at him, pointing at his head “But that’s a helmet.” you said. He huffs “Well, I don’t exactly go around telling people my name sweetheart.”

Jason looked out the window, noting the late hour. He knew that he should get going— the night would not wait for him. He shifted on the couch, wincing slightly as he jostled his wounded side. "I should probably get going," he said, slowly getting up from the couch. Your eyed widened as you stood up as well “What? Are you sure?”

Jason nodded, gritting his teeth as he tried to stand up straight. He could already feel the pull of the stitches in his side, but he didn't want to worry you any more than he already had. "I'll be fine," he said, even though he was still somewhat wobbly on his feet. "I've had worse."

You watch him open your window and left to the snowy cold city. You walked towards your window, hands on the railings as you saw him leave, “Stay safe!” you yelled out. He turned slightly and nodded, giving you a small wave before disappearing into the shadows of the city.

About 2 days passed, somehow.. he felt this itch. He wanted to return the favor. It was a foreign feeling for him— he wasn't used to caring about anyone besides himself. But something about you just wouldn't leave his mind.

Like why does it even matter? You 're just some rando who treated his wounds.

…And so, on the third day, he decided to pay a visit to your apartment.

He didn’t know how to approach this situation, he landed on your fire escape. The steel slightly shook from his weight. He paused as he reached your window, peering through the glass with hesitance in his eyes. The blinds were closed, but he could see your silhouette from the light.

Jason tried to get a better view of you through the slits in the blinds. He wasn't sure why he was being so cautious— after all, he was the one who had decided to come here.

God this was so stupid.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the glass, signaling his presence. You were in the middle of making yourself a cup of tea when you heard a knock on the window. You were confused, and a little creeped out. Who would be knocking this late at night?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you walked towards the window and pulled the blind strings, white lenses widening at the sight of a figure standing on your fire escape. You let out a surprised noise as you saw him. You opened the window as you felt the cold air come in “Red Hood? Why are you here?”

Jason hopped into your apartment, his boots making a soft thud as he landed. He looked around for a moment, taking in the cozy space before focusing his gaze back on you. He shrugged, as if his presence here was no big deal. "Just thought I'd return the favor," he replied.

Your eyes darted around the room, “Er, by how?”

…Shit, he didn’t even think of what to return. Jason cursed under his breath, fuck why didn’t he thought this through?

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with something quickly. “I could uh, keep an eye on you. Make sure no one bothers you.” he says “If I see a shady guy sneaking around your fire escape i’ll shoot em’”

Jason mentally facepalmed at his own words. That was stupid, he thought. You probably didn't need him lurking outside your window like some kind of oversized bodyguard. You looked at your table with your tea set and back to him “Do you want tea?” you invited.

He paused for a moment before nodding slightly, “Yeah.. yeah sounds nice.” he said as he took a seat.

You then remembered he wore a helmet, “Wait— I can just drink in another direction while you…” he takes off his helmet and saw him with a domino mask. He had a white streak on his hair and he looked younger than you expected, about your age actually. “…drink.”

"Yeah," he snorts, unable to hide a hint of amusement in his voice. "I can't exactly drink with a helmet on." You sat in front of him as you poured the warm tea in his cup. He picked up the cup, wrapping his fingers around the warm porcelain. The aroma of tea drifted up towards him, and he took a small sip, relishing the hot liquid as it warmed his chest.

“Are you really here to return the favor?” you asked, looking up at him. “Yeah, I am,” he replied, “I don’t like owing people favors, much less owing one to someone I just met.” he added, "But I also wanted to check on you. Make sure you're alright."

“I’m alright.” you replied “You don’t have to return the favor, you know.” Jason shakes his head "I'm a man of my word," he retorted, "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

He took another sip of his tea, the hot liquid giving him a moment to think. "Besides," he continued, "It's not like I have anything better to do." you raised your brow, “You probably do.” you said as you sipped your tea.

“Well, yeah maybe so. But still.” Jason leaned back slightly in his seat, swirling the tea in his cup as he tried to find the right words. He knew you were right— there was always something for him to do out there on the streets. “I’d rather be here, to be honest,” he darts his eyes away from yours.

You warmly flashed a smile “Sure, you can come over anytime.” he raised his brow, "You sure about that?” he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. "You don't even know my real name."

You hummed “True, but I don’t really have any company.”

Jason studied you for a moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in your words. It was hard for him to believe that someone would be so carefree about inviting a masked vigilante into their home. But there was something genuine in your expression, a loneliness that mirrored his own.

He took another sip of tea, mulling your words over. "What, no boyfriend?” he lets put an amused scoff. Your hand moved across your neck with a bitter expression. He knew that look all too well— the look of someone with a bitter past.

"Bad breakup?" he asked. You sighed as your eyes darted down, “Yeah, it was really messy.” you said, sipping some tea.

He didn't push you for more details, knowing that you would share only as much as you were comfortable with. Instead, he simply nodded, "I can imagine," he said quietly. “It happened two days ago actually, when you sat on my porch injured.”

Jeez, how he felt terrible.

"It was that recent?" he asked and you nodded. Jason felt guilt as he realized the timing of his visit. You had been dealing with a breakup when he had shown up randomly on your doorstep. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Bad timing, I guess." you chuckled “No, it’s fine. I guess it’s better than sulking to myself. I mean it's.. really weird but, hey.”

He let out a soft scoff, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “Yeah, I guess I’m better company than crying alone in the dark.”

Over the next few days, He would find himself returning to your apartment. Even though he was very hesitant at first, he found himself unable to stay away. He tells himself… it was just a matter of returning a favor, but he knew there was more to it than that. Your apartment had become a sort of like haven for him, a place where he could let his guard down and be himself.

Every two nights, he would make his way through the city, cloaked in shadows until he reached your window, slipping through your window without a word and settling on your couch. Each time, he would sit in silence for a few moments, as if checking to see if he was welcome or if you would turn him away. But you always seemed to accept his presence without question, offering him a cup of tea or a light conversation.

Was it stupid and dangerous for the two of you? Yes. Does he still visit you anyway? Yes.

It was another night, and Jason found himself making his way towards your apartment once again. He had gotten used to this routine, this quiet comfort of slipping through your window and finding a place on your couch. As he landed on your fire escape, he took a moment to scan the area, making sure no one had followed him. Satisfied that he was alone, he let himself into your apartment, as usual.

He entered your kitchen in his usual stealthy manner, taking off his helmet and setting it on your table. As he did, he caught sight of you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

You looked up at him, “You’re a day early.” you said. He gave a soft scoff, “Am I not welcome here anymore?” you shook your head, “No, no, no, you are.”

“Good,” he replied, taking a seat on the couch. “You know you shouldn’t treat other randos like this if I’m gone.” you rolled your eyes as you stood from your seat and shuffled in your cabinets, “I know, I’m not dumb.” you replied. "Just making sure,” shrugged, you could tell that he was teasing you a bit. “Wouldn’t want some sketchy guy taking advantage of your kind heart.”

"Oh, shut it,” you retorted, turning to look at him. “I’m not that easy to take advantage of.” Jason let out a huff “Oh really? Seems to me like you're letting me waltz into your home every other night without complaint.”

You let out a huff, trying not to let your frustration show. He had a point… but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"That’s different,” you protested. "You’re not some random creep." Jason smirked, enjoying your reaction. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked up at you. "But you barely know me," he said, "For all you know, I could be some criminal mastermind, pretending to be a nice guy."

You took a box of macaroni and turned back to him with a glare, “Are you asking to get kicked out?” you don’t actually mean it, but he could be right. Jason knew you weren’t being serious, but the hint of truth in your words made him tense.

"No, I’m not asking to get kicked out,” he assured you, "I’m grateful for your hospitality, honest." You did a smug smile, “That’s what I thought.” you said as you started to cook some macaroni.

He huffed as he leaned back on the couch, watching you work. He couldn’t help but find your confidence amusing.. the way you weren’t afraid to stand up to him or tease him back.

He shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable with his own relaxed behavior. He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so at ease around you. Maybe it was the fact that you accepted him without question even though you shouldn’t, or maybe it was something else entirely. He couldn’t quite pin it down.

But.. either way, he admits he enjoys this.

Jason was used to bantering with his siblings, it came naturally to them. Here, it felt lighter. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

His next visit was odd, it was a different visit from the usual. Jason arrived slightly later than usual, a scowl on his face and a heavy air of frustration surrounding him. As he slipped through your window, you could immediately tell something was off. He didn’t offer his usual greeting, and his shoulders were tense, as if he was carrying a weight heavier than usual.

He didn’t even take his helmet off, you can’t help but be worried so you walked over to him, “Are you okay, Hood?” you asked, testing the waters. Jason’s eyes flicked up to look at you as you approached him. Yet he still felt cold.

He let out a scoff, his gaze somewhere else. “I’m fine,” he muttered. You took a cautious step closer to him, your eyes studying him carefully. "Something happened?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice gentle.

Your hand hovered in the air, unsure what to do. You didn’t want to piss him further, you don’t know what he was like when he was angry. He knew that he was giving off an intimidating aura, but part of him couldn’t help but wish you would reach out.

He let out another sigh, trying to reign in his temper. "You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me," he muttered. Okay, well now you felt a little relieved at his words. You weren’t sure how he would react if you pushed further, but you also knew he needed someone to talk to.

You sat in the couch beside him, your hand finally landing on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right?” you said softly. You could feel him tense up slightly, but he didn’t shrug you off.

He let out another sigh, the tension in his body slowly starting to uncoil. “It’s just family stuff,” he admitted, his voice quiet. Your eyes softened as your hand moved to his back, “You wanna talk about it?” you asked. Jason looked at you for a moment, his eyes fixed on your face. The sight of your soft, empathetic expression made his walls crumble slightly, and he found himself nodding.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he said gruffly, setting his helmet down on the coffee table. He leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just family issues, nothing new. My siblings all drive me crazy, and everyone’s got their own drama going on. Can’t seem to catch a break.”

You pulled your legs up on the couch, “Big family?” you asked. He looked over at you, a hint of humor in his eyes. "Have you ever tried dealing with seven stubborn people under one roof?" you softly chuckled with a small smile, “Yeah, I get it.” Jason's lips tugged into a slight smile at your response, "Yeah, I figured you might.”

Your hand left his back, “You want tea?” he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” It was oddly comforting, how you offered small acts of kindness without asking anything in return. He watched as you placed the tea set on the coffee table, the aroma of the tea starting to fill the room. He found himself strangely at ease, the tension from before slowly seeping away.

“Here you go.” you said as you handed him a cup. Jason accepted the cup of tea from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

You watched as he took a sip, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Feeling any better?" you asked, your voice gentle. Jason paused for a moment, taking another sip of tea before answering. For him, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t judge him or try to fix his problems.

"Yeah," he replied, "A bit. Talking about it helps, I guess." You softly smiled, “You can always talk to me Hood.”

Jason studied your face, noticing the way your soft smile and kind eyes almost made him want to spill all his deepest secrets. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but there was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Like he could trust you with his thoughts and feelings.

As he took another sip of tea, he found himself questioning whether he should reveal his real identity. It would certainly make things easier if you knew his real name… He placed the empty cup on the table, his mind still conflicted. It was a big step, revealing his identity to you. But something inside him urged him to take the risk.

“Jason’s fine.” he mumbles. You looked up at him with a curious glance, “What?”

"Forget the whole Red Hood thing,” he repeated, his voice a bit more clear this time. “You can just call me Jason.” You were stunned for a moment, you didn’t expect him to tell his name so soon— or at all for that matter. Jason could hear his own heartbeat in his chest as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you broke the silence “Then.. you can always talk to me, Jason.”

"Thanks," he replied quietly, the words holding a weight he couldn’t quite explain. "Really."

Over the next several weeks, Jason continued to find himself seeking out your company, the comfort of your presence soothing his troubled mind. Every time he dropped by, he found himself slowly letting down more and more of his walls. The rough exterior he wore like a protective suit was slowly replaced with a softer, more vulnerable one.

In all his years of being Red Hood, of being a vigilante, he had never allowed himself to get close to someone in that way.

But as he spent more time with you, he found himself slowly questioning that belief. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe he was wrong. Maybe love wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. Maybe it was something that could actually make him feel alive for once.

Jason avoided the idea of love, convinced that it was something to be feared and avoided. He had witnessed the pain and heartbreak it could cause, both in his own life and in the lives of others.

And yet, as he got to know you better and better, he found himself gradually starting to question this belief. Your presence had begun to erode the walls he had built around his heart, revealing a vulnerable side of him that he had long thought dead.

He felt his hard stone heart soften around yours.

You opened the blinds on your window, looking at the snow up ahead. “I wonder when spring will come.” you commented. He leaned back in the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Spring can't come soon enough," he muttered, his voice slightly gruff but lacking its usual edge. "I'm getting tired of freezing my ass off every night."

“Well, it’s already the start of the year.” you said.

Jason let out a scoff, his eyes drifting towards the calendar on your wall. Sure enough, the first month of the year was already marked off. "Yeah, and spring is like three months away," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's still a long way to go."

You sighed, “Right.” you said as you closed the blinds. Jason watched as you closed the blinds, shutting out the snowy landscape outside. The room seemed oddly devoid of color without the light filtering through the glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "At least the days are getting longer again," he pointed out, a hint of optimism in his voice. "The nights will get shorter eventually."

"Yeah, that's true," you agreed, "Soon we'll be complaining about how it's too hot instead of too cold."

"Yeah, and then we'll be wishing for winter again," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Never satisfied, are we?" You then remembered something, “Oh, by the way— look what I got for Christmas.” you pulled a box and opened the lead to reveal the record player. "A record player, huh?" he said, a "Who gave you that?"

“My dad,” you replied, “my mom gave me vinyls too.” you smiled as you pulled out a few of them. He leaned closer, peering at the titles you had pulled out. "Let me see..." he said, reaching out to take one of the records from your hand.

You handed him the record, and Jason carefully examined the album cover, running his fingers over the worn edges. He let out a soft scoff as he saw the cover. "Aerosmith, huh?" He said, ”I see your parents have good taste."

You chuckled at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, my dad's a big fan," you replied. "He's always saying that '70s and '80s rock is the best music." you took out some jazz records, “There's these too.”

"Jazz? Your parents really know what they're doing. Good taste in music, that's for sure." he said. You smiled, “I didn’t take you for a jazz guy.”

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he scoffs, his eyes flickering back to you. You took the record from his hands, “Do you want me to play it?” you asked.

“Go for it.” he replied.

You crouched as you carefully placed the record on the turntable, setting the needle gently down. The soft crackle of the vinyl filled the room before the smooth, melodious sounds of the jazz instrumental began to play. You stood back up and looked at him, “What do you think?” Jason listened to the music, a thoughtful expression on his face as he soaked in the mellow tones. "It's nice," he replied.

Your expression softens, “My parents loved dancing to this, I’m glad they gave it to me.” Jason looks at your expression, "You must have a lot of good memories with them.”

"I remember watching them dance to this in the living room. They were so in sync back then, like they were made for each other." Jason listens to your words and pauses for a bit, he then stands up. “Do you want to dance?”

You sheepishly smiled “Oh— no I’m good I don’t know how to dance.” Jason extends his hand, "Dancing isn't exactly rocket science, you know," he said. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two. I’ll take the lead.”

He wasn’t lying, he had a lot of experiences dancing in Bruce’s Galas. "C'mon," he extends his hand further, "It's easy, trust me. I've had plenty of practice." You were complementing to take his hand or not, you then gave up as you took his hand.

Jason smiled as you placed your hand in his. He gently pulled you closer to him, his other hand finding its way to your waist. "Just follow my lead," he instructed, his eyes darting to you.

The music continued to play in the background as Jason slowly began to move, his feet guiding you through the steps. He kept his grip on your waist light but firm, his body slightly brushing against yours with each step. “Like this?” you asked sheepishly. Jason nodded, "Yeah, just like that, doll.”

He moved a bit closer to you, adjusting the position of your other arm.

You huffed, “Last time I did this was like.. high school prom.” Jason huffs, finding your comment amusing. He twirled you around slightly, the movement fluid and elegant. "I'm honored that you're dancing with me instead of some prep school kid.” You stumbled slightly at the unexpected twirl, laughing as you clutched onto him for balance. "I think I prefer dancing with you over some sweaty teenager.”

He huffs, "And why's that?"

“Because I like you.” you simply said.

His heart lurched in his chest at your words, your casual confession sending a flutter through his entire body. "You do, huh?" he asked quietly. “Why would I lie?” you answered. Jason let out a huff, his expression softening as he looked at you. "I don’t know, people lie all the time,” he said, as he looked down. His grip on you grew firmer, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. "But you sound sincere enough."

The air between you felt thick, the music now almost background noise. Jason's eyes were locked with yours, his expression unreadable yet somehow more open than you'd ever seen before. He took a step closer, his chest now touching yours as he gently continued to move you both in time with the music.

Your head then moved to lean on his chest. He held you close, his heartbeat steady and strong under your touch. Slowly, he leaned his head down, his chin resting on the top of your head. It was a vulnerable gesture, one that somehow felt more intimate than the dancing.

The only sound in the room was the steady thump of his heart against your ear and the soft, soothing tones of the instrumentals.

This was love. The feeling of your body against his, the way you leaned on him so trustingly, the sound of his heartbeat in your ears. It all felt so... right. He held you close, his arms encircling your frame as he continued to move with you to the music, his heart full and conflicted.

But there was fear there too. Fear of losing this, of losing you. The thought of something happening to you, of losing this quiet moment filled him with dread. The final notes of the song faded, leaving the room in a silent, intimate embrace.

Jason continued to hold you against his chest, his chin still resting on the top of your head. He didn’t want to let go, his arms around you not loosening even slightly.

He swallowed hard, his voice a low murmur as he broke the silence. "You're a good dancer." you hummed against his chest, “Mm, thanks.” you responded.

🌊 part 2. please like and reblog!!