#criminal minds themes

[bloodywickedlips]

Lessons and scars pt 4

It’s been a full 8 months of dating Spencer and things were tense as I got back to my apartment and huffed as I put my bag down.

Spencer slammed the door and it made me jump, looking over to him I saw a scowl on his face.

“What?” I asked him feeling tired and over worked, needing a much needed rest. No matter how many killers we stopped there seemed to always be two more.

“Nothing I’m just tired” he said and I arched my brow at him but decided not to press any further. We both had dinner in silence and then went to bed. I knew something was on Spencer’s mind but he wasn’t opening up to me and I was not in the mood to fight. Things were tense since Emily left and there were a lot more fights.

The next morning both our phones rang meaning there was a new case. We both got up and Spencer went back to his apartment to shower and then meet at the office.

“What is it this time?” I asked as we all sat around the table each one of us nursing a coffee.

“Right so we have a string of bodies showing up. No limbs no heads just torsos, no way in saying who is who except for having tattoos if they had any” Garcia said and explained the case further.

“Wheels up in 30” Hotch said and we all got our things ready and climbed onto the jet to solve yet another case.

Turns out it was a cult using the body parts for rituals and it took about a week to put together and make the arrests. This time I went to my apartment alone as Spencer needed to clean up his own apartment. Stepping into the door I looked down and saw a small box there and wondered what it was. I walked to the kitchen and used a knife to cut it open and once opening it I cursed to myself. I picked up the letter, leaving the flowers as is.

Once I opened the letter my heart stopped and I went cold “I know about him, Dr Reid will be next” the note read and I picked up the photo in the note seeing it was Spencer and I having coffee, I  dropped it as realization came over me. He was back and was going after the only thing I loved again.

I avoided Spencer’s calls over the next few days saying I had the flu and I was man down. It bought me some time to figure out a plan, but the only one I had was to leave Spencer. I needed to keep him safe by all costs.

Slowly but surely I pulled back from Spencer, less dates and less sleeping over, it caused fights between us but I knew I had to keep him safe, keep him alive.

Currently I was hunched over my desk filling in my reports when the group asked to go for drinks. “Don’t bother asking her, she’s too busy” Spencer answered for me and I huffed at his snarky tone.

“Sorry guys I want an early night for once” I said and everyone groaned and pleaded but I shook my head. “I'm really tired, but you guys have fun” I said and stood up with my bag. “Spence what about you?” JJ asked and Spencer looked at me but I looked down not being able to look him in the eyes.

“No I'm okay” Spencer said and they all gave each other glances and then made their way to the basement where all the cars were.

I was walking to my own car when Spencer grabbed me by the arm “What is going on with you, I never see you outside of work and even then you barely look at me” Spencer hissed at me and I rolled my eyes at him.

“Not now Spencer, I'm really tired and want to get home” I said to him but he wasn’t giving up.

“No I want to know what your problem is, are you tired of dating me? Or are you just bored and need to move on to the next one, am I not good enough because I don’t abuse you? Is it that you want that thrill?” Spencer shouted at me and I felt my heart break at his words.

He had no idea that I was keeping him safe but if that is what he wanted to believe then so be it.

“I'm done, were done” I whispered out not daring to look into his eyes.

“Wai- uh what?” Spencer asked me dumbfounded not believing what I just said. “Sorry Spencer, I just cant do this anymore” I said and then climbed into my car and drove home. The moment I shut the door of my apartment I broke down in sobs, feeling my heart break into a thousand pieces.

I made my way to my bed and broke down more, crying for hours on end. After composing myself I sent in an email requesting Hotch to allow me to take 7 days of my leave days that have collected. He had no problem with it and I was left to sulk around alone in my apartment.

On the fourth day there was a knock on my door and when opening it I saw Morgan there with coffee.

“Morgan not now” I said and went to close the door but he stopped me and stepped inside anyway.

“No I'm not leaving until I know what’s going on. You took a week off, Spencer is a mess and looking at you, so are you. Now spill” Morgan said and I felt the tears rise again and broke down. Morgan hugged me to him and let me cry it out.

“Come now, tell me and I can help” he said and I pulled back wiping my eyes. “Spencer and I broke up” I said to him and he gave me a sarcastic look.

“Yes we all noticed, but why sweetness, you guys were so happy?” he asked and I sighed as I turned around and fetched the box, handing it over to him.

“Who is this from?” he asked me and I walked over to the couch and sat down.

“My stalker, the one who killed my parents. He’s never been caught and he’s been dormant for the past 14 years. After Rossi got so close to catching him, he vanished. I thought he was dead, but now he’s back and I can’t put Spencer in danger” I explained to him as he sat next to me.

“Then we all help, we find this guy and put a stop to him” Morgan said but I shook my head at him.

“Morgan please, I don’t want anyone else knowing. Just us, he will go after the team and I cant have that, please” I begged him and saw him nod and pull me into another hug.

“Only if you ever get anything else you tell me” Morgan said and I promised him. “Okay now get dressed, I wanna show you something” he said and I groaned out.

“No none of that, dress in sweats and a tank top” he said and I got up and changed. Morgan drove us to his own gym and I looked at it confused not knowing what he wanted to do.

“Pretend this bag is your stalker” he said and gestured for me to hit the bag, I did so softly and he huffed at me.

“That’s how you gonna punch the person for killing your parents, and taking Spencer away from you? No mama I know you’ve got a meaner punch than that” Morgan said and I got angry. I punched the bag and heard Morgan praise me. I went at it for a while and then started sparing with Morgan in the ring.

“Now anytime you feel like crying or breaking you come here and you do this okay?” he asked me and I nodded understanding him.

Things were tense at work with Spencer not talking to me unless he had to and the rest of the team tried to stay out of it but JJ seemed a bit angry at me and would sometimes snap at me for no reason but this all lead me to go to the gym every day if I could, I started training harder and harder everyday, wanting to be able to take this stalker down if he was in front of me.

It was a few months that this went on, and when I was finished on the treadmill I headed home for a shower, walking past the mirror I saw my reflection and didn’t recognize myself anymore.

Long gone were the love handles I had and the round tummy, all replaced with toned muscles all due to hardly eating and such long training. I did notice the weight loss and had to buy new clothes but I never realized it was this bad. No wonder Garcia and Rossi asked me constantly if I was eating.

After my shower a knock on my door startled me and when opening it I saw Morgan standing there. “We have another case” Morgan said and I told him to give me 5 minutes to grab everything.

Second day into the case we got the profile as a male in his 40’s , taking couples to make up for the one he lost. “Okay so we have what he looks for in a couple, Reid, Olivia you two will go undercover, wearing tracking devices. We’ve established he keeps them around for a week and then disposes of them, so as soon as he grabs you two , we will make the arrest” Hotch said and I shook my head.

“Hotch can’t JJ go instead?” I asked hopeful but the stern look I got meant no. “You fit the female description better, it will be an easy in and out” he said and I nodded while walking over to change clothes to what the unsub looked for.

Spencer and I drove in silence to the club the unsub would be at and per Hotch’s instructions Spencer lead me inside and we both made it to the dance floor. “Spence you have to hold me” I whispered and his eyes snapped to me. “Don’t call me that” he spat out and we both heard a warning from Hotch over the line.

Spencer stepped forward and held me as we danced, trying to look around for the unsub but my head was buzzing with the feeling of Spencer’s hands on my hips.

“You’ve lost a lot of weight” Spencer murmured unapprovingly and it made my heart ache to hear how sad he sounded.

“Guys we have eyes on a possible” Hotch said and I sighed at relief as I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up the pretend and instead tell Spencer everything including how sorry I was.

Then all of the sudden all the lights went off and I tried to reach out for Spencer as voices shouted all around me, everything went blurry as I gripped onto Spencer’s hand and then blacked out.

“Anyone got eyes on them?” Hotch shouted out as the lights came back on but no one could see either Spencer or I. “Garcia where are the trackers?” Hotch asked and Garcia informed them that it was right outside the club in the alley way. The team rushed there and cursed as they stepped into the alley way. Both our clothes were there, along with the trackers.

“Someone tipped him off or he was in the room when we gave the briefing” Rossi said as everyone stood around our clothes trying to figure out which way the unsub took us.

[hoe4hotchner]

False Security | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader CW: Angst, physical abuse, kidnapping, captivity, hospital, light use of Y/N, hotch is in love with you, r is only wearing underwear, chains, morphine. WC: 2.6k

           The bullpen was eerily quiet for a late evening. Papers were scattered across desks, half-empty coffee cups forgotten in the rush of trying to piece together the puzzle of the case they were working on.

           The tension in the conference room was palpable - each agent hunched over their work, mentally and emotionally drained from the brutal reality of the case. Every passing hour without a breakthrough weighed heavily on the team.

           Garcia had moved from her tech cave to stay near the rest of the team. Something about this case, the brutality of it, had shaken her, she wasn't her usual cheerful self. Her fingers tapped anxiously against her keyboard, eyes darting between monitors, scanning data, hoping for a clue - anything that would help them find the unsub before another victim was claimed.

           Hotch stood near the whiteboard, staring at the photos pinned up - the faces of victims staring back at him, haunting him. There was a pattern here; they all knew it. They could feel it. But none of them had been able to put the final piece together yet. Everyone was running on fumes.

           "Garcia," Hotch’s voice broke the silence, low but with the familiar edge of urgency. "Pull up the financials again. There’s something we’re missing."

           Garcia nodded, already typing, her colorful nails clicking rapidly against the keys. But even she seemed distracted, her brow furrowed in worry. She wasn’t just focused on the case anymore - she was thinking about you. About how you had been recently, about the relationship you had confided in her about a few weeks ago. A relationship that seemed to be bringing you joy, a brightness that Garcia had been happy to see. But now… something about this case was stirring up an unsettling feeling in her chest.

           Reid was standing across from her, his eyes darting across the case files, muttering half-thoughts under his breath. Morgan was pacing, unable to sit still, his frustration growing with each dead end.

           Then, it happened.

           Garcia’s fingers stopped, hovering above the keyboard. The silence in the room grew thicker as everyone waited for her to speak. She was staring at her screen, but the bright color had drained from her face. Slowly, almost as if she didn’t believe it herself, she turned in her chair, wide eyes meeting Hotch’s.

           "Sir," her voice was trembling. "You need to see this."

           Hotch’s stomach dropped at her tone, something was off. He crossed the room in quick strides, looking over her shoulder at the screen. The room held its collective breath, all eyes now on them. Garcia was scrolling through the financials, linking transactions, showing a pattern of behavior that had gone unnoticed until now. At first, it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. Just a name, a routine list of purchases. But then it hit him. A familiar name.

           Hotch froze. His heart slammed against his ribs, dread flooding his veins.

           “No,” he breathed, disbelief clouding his thoughts.

           Garcia turned, biting her lip. Her fingers trembled as she pointed to the screen. “It’s him, Sir,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It’s… it’s (Y/N)'s boyfriend.”

           The words hung in the air, heavy, suffocating. Everyone stared, the weight of Garcia’s revelation hitting them like a freight train. Morgan stopped pacing, Reid’s muttering ceased, and Rossi’s eyes darkened as he stood from his desk.

           "Are you sure?" Hotch’s voice was low, but the tension in his tone was unmistakable.

           Garcia nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “I cross-referenced his name with the locations. He fits every single one of the victim’s timelines, and… the patterns match. It’s him, Hotch.”

           For a moment, no one moved. It was as if the very air in the room had thickened, weighing them all down. Hotch felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. His chest tightened painfully, his mind racing with fear and anger. How could they have missed this? How could he have missed this?

           Morgan was the first to break the silence, his voice sharp and filled with disbelief. “Wait, (Y/N)’s dating this guy?” His eyes darted between Garcia and Hotch, trying to piece it together. “How long has this been going on?”

           “A couple of months,” Garcia whispered, guilt washing over her at the mere fact that she knew about your relationship. “She… she didn’t want anyone to know. But… I thought he was just a regular guy.”

           Rossi was already moving toward his phone. "Has anyone contacted her?"

           Hotch’s blood ran cold. He reached for his phone, his fingers fiddling slightly as he dialed your number. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Straight to voicemail.

           Panic settled in his chest like a stone.

           “Garcia, try to ping her phone,” he ordered his voice tight, betraying the rising anxiety within him.

           “I’m on it,” she replied, her fingers moving across the keyboard in a blur. The seconds dragged on like hours as she tried to locate your phone. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “It’s off.”

           Morgan swore under his breath, his fists clenched. “We have to find her. Now.”

           Hotch felt a surge of terror, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. His thoughts were racing— Where were you? Were you okay? Did you even know what kind of danger you were in? The idea that the person you had trusted, had been intimate with, was the same monster they were hunting - it made his skin crawl. And now, they couldn’t reach you.

           Garcia's voice broke through the haze. “I’ve got his phone,” she said, her voice shaking with urgency. “It’s pinging at a location near the docks - an old warehouse district.”

           Hotch didn’t waste another second. He was out the door before anyone could speak, his mind focused on one thing - finding you. His heart pounded in his chest, each step toward the SUV filled with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between you two. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

          The warehouse loomed ahead, its shadowy silhouette stark against the faint glow of the city. Inside, the darkness was suffocating, every echo, every creak of the metal beams overhead seeming to mock the haste coursing through Hotch's veins. He moved quickly, his heart pounding in his chest as he led the team deeper into the labyrinth of hallways and empty rooms, desperate to find you before it was too late.

           The dread that had been building since Garcia's revelation gnawed at him with every step. The idea that you, his agent, the person he trusted and admired, had been caught in the web of this monster - he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It felt personal in a way that made his throat tighten, made his focus even sharper. This wasn’t just a case anymore; it was about you, about saving you from someone who had fooled them into a false security.

           A soft, muffled whimper reached his ears, freezing him in place. It was faint but unmistakable. His breath hitched as he sprinted toward the sound, every part of him terrified of what he might find. He shoved open a rusted metal door, and the sight that greeted him ripped the air from his lungs.

           There you were, barely recognizable, hanging limply by your wrists, your arms shackled high above your head. The light flickered, casting shadows over your bruised and battered body. You were gagged, your face pale and streaked with tears, your eyes barely open, glazed with pain and fear. Your skin was marred with fresh bruises, and all you were left wearing was your underwear - vulnerable, exposed, and utterly broken.

           Hotch’s world tilted. He had faced horrors in his career, and seen things that haunted his dreams, but nothing compared to the sight of you, the person he had come to care for, reduced to this.

           For a split second, all he could do was stand there, frozen by the crushing wave of guilt and anger crashing over him. How could he have let this happen? How had he not seen it, not realized who the unsub was?

           “Morgan!” Hotch's voice was sharp. “Find him. Now.” He couldn't be far away Hotch thought to himself.

           Without waiting for a reply, Hotch crossed the room to you, his hands trembling as he reached up to unchain your wrists. You collapsed into his arms, your body weak and trembling from the strain. He held you close, his jacket already off and wrapping around your shivering form. His chest tightened painfully as he felt just how cold you were, how fragile you felt in his arms.

           “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re safe now.”

           You stirred, barely able to focus, but the sound of his voice - his voice - cut through the haze of terror that had clouded your mind. Your eyes fluttered open, a tear slipping down your cheek as you realized it was him. You tried to speak, but the gag choked you, the duct tape biting into your skin.

           Hotch's fingers were delicate as he reached up to remove the tape. Every inch he peeled back felt agonizingly slow, each movement careful, as if he were terrified of causing you more pain. His eyes never left yours, the guilt and worry etched deep into his features.

           When the gag finally came loose, you gasped, drawing in shaky breaths as your mouth was freed. Your voice came out in a weak rasp, “Aaron…”

           “Shh,” he murmured, brushing the hair from your face with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

           But you could see it in his eyes. The guilt. The anger. It radiated off him, a storm barely contained beneath the surface. He blamed himself, you knew that much. And though you wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have known, your voice was too weak, your body too drained.

           Hotch wrapped his arms tighter around you, his face buried in your hair as he whispered, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there sooner.”

           His words broke something inside you, a sob tearing from your throat despite your exhaustion. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that you didn’t blame him, but all you could do was cling to him, your body shaking against his.

           You had been so close to losing everything - to never seeing him again. And now, in the safety of his arms, the adrenaline began to fade, leaving behind the raw emotion and terror that you had been holding back.

           “I’ve got you,” he whispered again, his voice barely a rasp. He held you tighter as if he could shield you from the world, from the pain, from everything you had just endured.

           He didn’t care about protocol, didn’t care that he was supposed to be in control, to remain objective. All he cared about was you, about getting you out of there and keeping you safe.

           When the paramedics arrived, Hotch didn’t let go. He carried you to the ambulance himself, refusing to leave your side for even a moment. The other agents worked around him, searching for your captor, but Hotch didn’t care about anything else right now. He stayed by your side as you were lifted into the ambulance, sitting beside you, his hand holding yours as if it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

           The soft, sterile lighting of the hospital room contrasted with the cold, harsh reality of what had just happened. The beeping machines were rhythmic and steady, peaceful, a constant reminder that you were alive, even though the events leading up to this moment had been anything but peaceful.

           Hotch sat beside your bed, his hand wrapped protectively around yours, his thumb brushing back and forth along your knuckles in a soothing motion. He hadn’t left your side since they’d arrived at the hospital. The team had stayed behind to deal with the crime scene and the unsub, but Hotch had only one priority: you. His suit jacket now hung loosely on the back of his chair, as your bruised body had been hidden away by the hospital gown.

           You shifted slightly in the bed, your eyes fluttering open but still hazy from the morphine coursing through your veins. The medication had dulled the pain but also left you in a dreamy, disoriented state. Everything felt far away, like you were underwater, and the world around you was muffled. But there was one constant, something anchoring you to reality - Hotch.

           “Hotch…” your voice was barely above a whisper, the name slipping from your lips without much strength behind it. You tried to sit up, but your body protested, still sore and weak. Hotch’s grip on your hand tightened gently, his other hand pressing softly against your shoulder to keep you from moving too much.

           “Shh, don’t try to move. The doctor said you need to rest,” he said, his voice low and calm, but underneath it was a storm of emotions - relief, fear, anger. He tried to keep it together for you, but seeing you like this - bruised, shaken, and vulnerable - it broke something inside him.

           You blinked up at him, trying to focus. His face came into view, a mixture of exhaustion and concern etched into his features. “You... you came for me,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred from the medication, but the gratitude in your tone was unmistakable.

           Hotch’s heart clenched at the sound of your voice, so small and fragile. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Of course I did,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always come for you.”

           You smiled faintly, the corners of your lips tugging upwards despite the pain and exhaustion. There was something about his presence that made everything feel just a little bit better, a little safer.

           Your eyes flickered around the room before landing back on him, and with a sleepy giggle, you whispered, “You look so serious, Hotch.”

           A soft chuckle escaped him, the sound rare but welcome, especially given the circumstances. “Someone has to be,” he teased, though his voice was still gentle. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch feather-light. “You’ve been through a lot.”

           You hummed, your eyelids growing heavy again, but you fought to stay awake, to stay in this moment with him. “Feel so... floaty,” you mumbled, your words trailing off slightly. The medication was pulling you back under again.

           Hotch smiled softly, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “That’s the morphine. It’s okay to rest, you’re safe now.”

           For a moment, you simply stared up at him, your eyes glazed but full of warmth. “You’re always so... good to me,” you slurred, your voice thick with drowsiness. “Don’t know what I’d do without you…”

           His heart ached at your words. He couldn’t imagine what you had gone through, only what he already knew the unsub usually would have done, but the thought of you feeling alone or scared crushed him. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

           You gave him a sleepy nod, your head lolling slightly to the side. “I know,” you mumbled, your voice fading as sleep finally began to pull you under.

           Hotch leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. He didn’t care that the hospital staff had insisted he take a break or go home and get some rest. He wasn’t leaving your side, not tonight. Not until he was absolutely sure you were okay.

           As your breathing evened out and your body relaxed into the bed, he sat back, watching you with a mix of compassion and sadness. Seeing you like this, so vulnerable and hurt, made him feel more helpless than he ever had before.

[kiwriteswords]

POV: After a case, Hotch has his way with you.

[holoship]

[megumimania]

DIFFERENT THIS TIME — spencer reid

synopsis: things are different this time when you finally understand why spencer has been acting off these past few weeks.

warnings/tags: angst, angst with a implied happy ending, improper use of drugs, addiction, spencer reid x social worker!reader, they’re friends and also neighbours, this is s8 and s2 reid at the same time in my head, whatever works for you. fluff/angst

a/n: my first piece for criminal minds! it’s angsty as hell forgive me but yeah, the title was inspired by a song of the same title by cornelia murr!

spencer has changed.

you are no fbi profiler but you can see the signs. he’s more shifty, more sercretive, he talks less, he eats less. spencer is more irritable than usual and it worries you.

sure you just may be worrying too much, it’s in your nature as a social worker to do so, but when you open the door to his apartment it is a mess. clothes and books are strewn across the floor, dishes and boxes of takeout piled up in the kitchen.

however in true spencer reid fashion they still have a semblance of order to them. you don’t bother trying to establish your own order within his own, so instead you take a snoop around.

his plants still look healthy, so it does look like he has been tending to something and it's not himself. the thought of that makes your heart pang a little. spencer was always the one helping others but in the one instance he had every right to be selfish and prioritise himself over work he didn't.

you figure it probably says more about his spirit and all but you're not here to do some soul searching. the curtains drawn haphazardly allow for a little bit of light to peek through in the otherwise dark apartment.

“spencer?” you call his name out into the void of his apartment, the sound reverberating around the place, the charms of the high ceilings that came pre built in his apartment. no response.

soft whimpers can be heard from the bathroom and you edge closer, not wanting to startle him so suddenly. you turn the doorknob and the sight that confronts you breaks you the most than any other case you’ve worked on.

he’s slumped against the bathtub, his sleeves rolled up revealing the track marks that he’s managed to hide with his vast array of cardigans and long sleeved shirts. all you can make out in his babbles are two names. one male, one female. a reminder of his extensive past that he revealed to you in bits and pieces.

the names don’t linger in your mind for long, not when he lies there helpless and his amber eyes remain vacant. your hands frantically search for a pulse, shaking when you press two fingers against his wrist. one beat after another but it’s weak and thready.

your head spins with things you should do, like the more rational choice of calling his friends, his family—hell even the hospital but even in his state, this would unfortunately open pandora’s box and you knew that spencer loved his job more than anything.

so when spencer rasps out a quiet “no” when you reach for his phone, you acquiesced. you helped him sit up right, his cold and clammy hands that slightly trembled sending a wave of sadness over you. this wasn’t the spencer you knew.

after a quick google search and several minutes of going back and forth with spencer, who looked like he’d rather eat glass than visit the hospital, you help him into bed, bundling him up the blankets that were on hand. the soup you made for him earlier, sits there uneaten but at least he ate the crackers and cheese.

you’re thankful for the small victories.

even though you wanted to give him some space, it didn’t stop you from periodically checking his vitals just in case there was a sudden change. spencer was grateful for you checking in on him it made this part less harder than it needed to be.

“please stay,” he calls out his voice quiet, trying to hide the desperation and loneliness in his voice but it comes in the form of a broken plea, from a broken man.

you figured that you could get to your apartment and back in no less than 15 minutes to grab your laptop and other essentials in order for you to get settled here.

“yeah, just give me a sec.” you say whilst sniffling, the cold already creeping into the building. when spencer is more up to it, you have to tell him to complain to his landlord because another year with a busted heater is a nightmare for everyone—particularly him who was prone to cold hands and feet in the winter.

you quickly slip out, leaving him alone for a while before you return with the essentials at hand. your announcement of your arrival falls on deaf ears as you walk in to a sleeping spencer sprawled out on his bed. the pained and sorrowful expression that had been burned into your mind had is replaced by a more peaceful one.

the sight alone was enough to make you feel at ease, knowing that spencer is somewhat okay, you just hope that one day he’s able to feel it too.

[smaeemo]

I hate that every man Im attracted to in TV is a middle aged white man, and that every comfort character is an awkward probably autistic queer coded freak

[simplynims]

Vincent: "You mean to tell me you don't believe in things that go bump in the night?~"

Lovely: "Oh my god I'm gonna end up like those unsolved murder mysteries they talk about on those stupid ass podcasts aren't I-"

[devscorner]

Aaron Hotchner from Criminal Minds is Bisexual!

[modelxis]

Vent: btw, Aile, who are currently working at Giro Express? Aile: um, you know, Sho, your best friend Vent: uh-huh Aile: two deranged siblings that not as deranged as before- Vent: they seem familliar- Aile: Cherry, our new repairman Vent: Sho said she is a smug gremblin that should be locked up for her dangerous invention- Aile: ignore Sho, next is Mint, she is our accountant Vent: she doesn't seem very friendly- Aile: and Warren- Vent: what's the hunter daddy doing here???

[askblueandviolet]

Fave soap opera and fave true crime doc GO

MASTER POST

Asks Start 💙💜

Previous 💙💜

Next 💙💜(🐶)

[ssahotchnerr]

it’s been so warm out recently and all i can think about is aaron in his athletic clothes

[bloodywickedlips]

Lessons and scars Pt5

"MATURE CONTENT MDI!!"

I woke up with a massive headache and went to grab my head but my arms were tied behind my back, as I opened my eyes, I saw I was in what looked like a wooden cabin and to my right was a knocked out Spencer.

“Reid, wake up” I hissed and saw him stir and hiss at his own headache.

“Where are we?” he asked and I looked around, noticing both of us were fully naked. “I don’t know but he took our clothes and probably the trackers as well” I explained to him as I realized both of us were stark naked, I stood up to see if I could find anything sharp to cut my ropes off, I found a knife on the table and cut my own ropes quickly and then Spencer’s.

“Stop right there” a voice said over a speaker and I stopped in my tracks. “Let us go, you have the wrong people” Spencer said as he stood up.

“Oh no I have the right people, now listen to my instructions and you will live. I want to watch you two do it and then you can go, as simple as that” he said and I scoffed knowing he didn’t let the people go afterwards.

“You ever hear about porn asshole?” I sneered out not believing this guy. “Do it or else” the unsub said and I stood still and Spencer did the same. A shot went off and I ducked quickly, I looked over to Spencer to see he was okay.

“Now start or the next one goes into one of you” he said and I shivered at realization.

“Please we aren’t a couple, we are undercover agents and our team will find us. Let us go before they get here” I called out and whimpered as another shot rang out and I felt my thigh burn as I fell down cursing.

“Okay okay we get it!” Spencer said as he walked over to me looking down at my bleeding leg. It went right through and Spencer helped me stand and I grit my teeth in pain.

“I don’t want to do this” I whispered out to Spencer and saw the hard stare in his eyes. “me neither, let’s just get it over with” he said and walked over to the bed. My heart was pounding out of my chest as I limped over to the bed, Spencer had ripped a piece of the sheet off and tied it tightly around the bullet wound. I screamed as he tied it and felt myself shake in pain.

“How should we…” I said to Spencer and he looked at the bed and motioned for me to get on.

“No I want her on top” the voice said and I swallowed hard as I climbed onto Spencer with his help. I couldn’t believe this was happening and I felt sick to my stomach doing this with someone watching. Spencer was leaned up against the headboard with me on his lap, it made my wound pull and I clenched my fists to push through the pain.

“How is he supposed to get hard while being shot at?” I shouted at the unsub and heard him chuckle.

“Don’t worry that won’t be a problem” he said back and I looked down to see Spencer blushing and avoiding me. “I gave him a little something to help with that issue” the unsub said and I pulled my lip in disgust.

“Just do it” Spencer said while looking away from me and it broke my heart all over again.

I leaned up and aligned him with me and sank down slowly, it hurt the further I went as I haven’t slept with anyone since Spencer.

Spencer hissed out at the feeling but he still kept his head to the side, not looking at me, in my mind I thought that this was not how I wanted us to be after I tell him everything. This is just wrong.

I stayed still for a bit to adjust to the stretch and jumped when the unsub yelled ‘Move’ through the speaker. I rolled my hips slightly and felt Spencer grab my hips. I moved more with Spencer’s help and then I noticed I was crying as I felt the wet tear land on my hand that was currently on Spencer’s chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” I said to him not knowing if it would be the last time we saw each other.

Spencer sat up more so he could wrap his arms around my waist and burry his head in my shoulder. “I hate you, I hate you” he chanted as a mantra in tune with our thrusts and it made me sob out knowing he meant it.

I felt my own release built and cried out as Spencer gave a very harsh thrust feeling me cum, I continued until I felt him grip me tighter and I knew he was close.

“Its okay spence, let go I’ve got you” I whispered as my hands threaded into his hair, he was breathing loudly in my neck and I felt him pulse inside of me and then I felt him cum but my chest burned as he moaned out “Maeve”.

I sat still as I realized he called out someone else’s name, was she his new girlfriend? My mind went blank as I got up off of him and grabbed a sheet to pull around myself. I felt dirty and sick as I sank down the wall, feeling numb.

Spencer laid on the bed as he caught his breath but also covered himself with the sheet. Neither on of us looking at each other, we were more strangers now than anything. The door opened and the unsub walked in with his gun aimed at me and ordered me to come with him. I didn’t look at Spencer as he led me out and shoved me in a different room.

“You filthy fucking whore” the unsub spat at me before his hand collided with my cheek, I fell down but went to sit up but his boot was pressed to my wound and I screamed out in pain, it left me dizzy and I felt him pull me up into a chair and proceeded to tie me to it.

“You are all the same! Worthless sluts” he roared as his fist connected with my face splitting my lip.

“Oh yeah and what does it say about you, you watched and forced people to have sex for your pleasure. Why, you can’t get it up?” I asked mockingly and regretted it the instant his boot connected to my ribs, knocking me back along with the chair.

“FBI freeze!” I heard a voice yell out but I couldn’t place who it was as my eyes were zoning in and out of focus. I heard a shot go off and watched as the unsub fell to the ground before I blacked out completely.

‘Beep beep beep’ I heard as I scrunched my face in annoyance. “Turn it off” I whispered and heard a gasp to my side. “Nurse she’s awake!” I heard Penelope shout and I looked over to her and smiled.

“Garcia I love your voice but please bring it down a notch” I said and grimaced at the sound of my own voice. “Sorry” she said and I shook my head to say it’s okay.

“What happened?” I asked as I looked over to Morgan in the chair fast asleep but my voice stirred him awake.

“Oh thank god your awake” he said and took my hand in his own and kissed my knuckles.

“What happened?” I asked again and saw Morgan give Garcia a side glance and then looked back at me. “You took one hell of a beating sweetheart, but we got there in time. You have one gsw to the thigh, split lip and three broken ribs” he said and then what happened came back in flashes. My eyes went wide and I sat up but moaned in pain at the movement.

“Spencer is he?” “He’s okay, he’s resting at home. The unsub took his anger out on you” Morgan explained and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Guys she needs some rest” the doctor said as he stepped inside and I said goodbye to Morgan and Garcia as they left. Spencer was okay and that’s all that mattered right now.

I was sent home three days later on  strict bed rest and no returning to work for two months.

The team stopped by when they could, all except Spencer but they all said he was doing better and seemed okay. It gave a little peace to know he was better. Physical therapy was going great as I could walk without my crutches now two months later. I was heading into the office but I wanted to stay home as I didn’t feel well. But I blamed it on nerves to see Spencer again.

I barely made it to my desk and when I saw Spencer, I felt the bile rise and rushed as quickly as I could to the bathroom. I emptied my stomach contents viscously and then rinsed my mouth with water and wet my face and neck.

“You okay?” JJ asked as she stepped inside and I nodded and smiled. “yeah probably just ate something bad” I replied and walked with her back to the office.

I started off with light duty until I was cleared to be in the field again and to say it was boring as hell would be an understatement of the year. Once the all clear was given I was the first one on the jet, excited to get out and be a full agent again.

I saw Spencer sitting in the corner and decided to approach him softly “Can we talk?” I asked him and he looked up at me and then down again “Nothing to talk about” he said and I frowned as I slipped into the seat opposed to him. “Reid what happened we don’t have to talk about it, but I want to clear the air between us. Please I can’t not talk to you, I miss you” I said to him and watched as he put his book down.

“Nothing happened that we need to talk about. You decided you were done with our relationship without talking to me about it. So for what it’s worth we are just colleagues, nothing more and nothing less” he said and picked his book up again.

I stared at him in disbelieve and just stood up to go back to my own seat. Spencer would speak to me when necessary, about the case but it ended there. I wish I could explain to him why I did it but then I knew he would try and get the guy and get hurt.

Getting sick when landing and all through out the case had me race to the doctor as soon as we got back and filled all our reports. I stepped inside the doctor’s office as soon as my name was called and nervously sat down.

“Miss Croft, what brings you in today?”  she asked me and I took a deep breath to calm myself.

“I think I'm pregnant” I said out loud and watched as the doctor smiled and stood up. “How long do you think you are?” she asked me and I thought back to that night. Closing my eyes to stop the memories from flooding in I told her just over three months.

“Right let’s do an ultra sound and afterwards we can pull blood if we don’t see anything” she said and I gulped as I stepped forward to lay on the table. The gel was cold as it touched my stomach and she moved it around a bit. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could have sworn I was hearing my heart beat out loud. “Congratulations, you hear that? That’s the baby’s heartbeat. I would say you are just under 14 weeks pregnant which means we need to get you on prenatal meds as soon as possible” she said and I turned my head. It wasn’t my heartbeat I was hearing, it was the baby’s heartbeat.

[berrymoos]

♡.°୭̥ ୨୧ ٭ you'll change your name or change your mind (and leave this fucked up place behind).

feat: cg. spencer reid (brief) && rg. elle greenaway [criminal minds]

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS . elle remembers with her dollies. she doesn't like that she does

ꨄ. CW(S) . ALLUSIONS TO CSA (regressor remembers their trauma). hurt / no comfort. not a fluffy read at all. dead dove, do not eat. approach with caution or don't approach at all

ꨄ. A/N . (prompt 27). happy 2nd day of @regressuary you guys. as seen by the content warnings on this fic, this isn't meant to be a fluffy or a feel-good prompt fill; quite the opposite actually. regression is not always a smooth-sailing boat & oftentimes, there's underlying trauma that spurs regression onward. i did not fill this prompt for elle in such a way for shock value or to simply throw her through the ringer, but because i believe there's an underlying reason as to why her career in the fbi started with sexual assault cases—it isn't outlandish to believe that survivors of any type of abuse would want to prosecute abusers. once again, heed the content warnings, & approach with caution. [cross posted on ao3!]

momma's friend isn't very nice.

step.

step.

step.

step.

slow, bumbling, but calculated all the same, padding down the hallway, punctuated by the creaky wooden flooring. a little girl huddles into the farthest corner of her room, knees drawn protectively to her chest and brown hair framing her tear–stained cheeks. the door is her barrier. nothing can hurt her.

momma's friend is not “nothing”.

one.

two.

three.

fists beat at the door as rabid dogs do to their prey, violent, thirsty, unforgiving to the life at the mercy of their jagged claws. she doesn't move. the air is bitter with each shallow breath.

ONE. TWO. THREE.

momma's friend is not very quiet.

jiggle.

jiggle.

jiggle.

the doorknob is squeaky. really, really squeaky. "we should get that fixed soon," momma's said before. "sounds like some kinda mouse." soon is not today.

the knocking stops. the knob stills. the wooden floor settles. all is calm, all is still . . . and the little girl's belly curdles.

momma's friend is not calm.

things can change.

no they can't.

but maybe they can.

the girl dares to uncurl from the tightness of her ball, if only by a little. she wipes the mess of tears from her face. maybe things will be okay. maybe he doesn't want her, anymore.

the door swings open, slams against her wall, and there he towers above her unassuming body. one long stride carries his socked feet beyond the threshold of her room, a sickening smile having ripped his face in two with dirty nails. ill intent poisons the green in his eyes—and yet he was the friendliest when they first met. is it her fault?

momma's friend cannot change.

there isn't a point in escaping—where else can she go when his imposing frame becomes the new barrier?—but she makes a mad dash for the door, anyway. it's stupid.

she's stupid.

“woah–!" his arms strike swiftly, snake around her waist, and push her onto the plush of her bed—but his hands stay shoved atop the bones in her shoulder. it hurts. it hurts. his touch burns. get away. get away, Get Away, GET AWAY.

he laughs but nothing is funny. he leans closer to the shell of her ear but she can hear just fine. the warm whisper makes her shiver. "i found you, pretty thing. i get my prize now, right?"

momma's friend never leaves without his prize. he likes to question, but the answer is never changing.

his weight locks her underneath his hips. green eyes flit to her face; to her neck; to her chest; and to the rest farther below. roughly, he yanks at her curls when she flails against his snooping eyes, then shushes her when her cries fight their way out—his finger smells salty. the familiar smell makes her sick.

"s’not gonna hurt, princess, y’know that. s’alright, pretty thing, let it go."

momma's friend is a liar.

why does momma have to work?

why did daddy have to go?

why did he stop being so nice?

why?

why?

why?

why—

"elliebean?" dread crawls along spencer's spine, a black widow trapped underneath his shirt. a lump of unease clogs his throat, alters the strength of his tone despite his best effort to appear unperturbed. "what– what are you doing . . . ?"

elle's eyes are hollow but her hands tremble ceaselessly; the dolls in her pale–knuckled grip (brown–haired girl, curls pulled into clumps of unkempt fiber, hips trapped beneath the crushing weight of a black–haired man) repeat the janky movement.

up.

down.

up.

down.

elle doesn't look up. her brown hair shields her cheeks as a single tear falls onto the dollie's face. a ghost passes across her skin. "playin’."

[kiwriteswords]

Professor!Aaron Hotchner x Student!Reader

↳ Moodboard requests 5/?

[katsuniverse]

okay y’all it’s been too long.. I wanna change my theme

what are we thinking? (prob no one will see this but idc)

to add to this: ladybug aesthetic with polka dots or downtown girl..

edit: the ratio from votes to likes is crazy…

also I think i’m gonna do a mix of season themes and nyc BUT idek how to go about making a nyc theme :/// if anybody has any ideas lemme know!!

[criminalmindontwt]