#david Rossi

[ematin]

Preach to the choir, Emily.

Criminal Minds 17.02

[ranunculussy]

enigma | spencer reid fanfiction

part 03. - wednesday

ꕥ part 01 | part 02 ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, mentions of human trafficking, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, alcohol consumption, kissing, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~3.0k (i'm so sorry, this is a bit shorter but i felt like it didn't need more) ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

The rest of the day went by quietly. You and Penelope made friends with one of the younger agents around your age who was driving, since you had a few nerdy interests in common. He saw your decorated tablet case, so he initiated the conversation, which went more pleasantly than the usual firsts with others.

Reid kept his distance the whole day. Whenever there was a toilet break—approximately every four hours—he made sure to avoid your company. He lingered around anyone who wasn’t in a talking distance with you. Which wasn’t unusual, given that you were never close. But now it was very much intentional on his part. He made sure to get up from his seat before you could even think about asking him to let you out. He was out of the vehicle in a blink. Feeling confused was tremendously out of character for him and he despised this state.

He also avoided addressing you, even when he would’ve had the chance to disagree with what you’ve said. He just… He needed to sort out his tangled, unorganised thoughts and needed to do it quickly. Because honestly, what the hell was wrong with him that day? He’d been working with you for over a year now and never had similar issues. Many times, he was annoyed, irritated or even secretly entertained and amazed by you. But never like this. Ever since you came in close contact with him a few hours ago, it was as if his brain got coated with thick layers of honey, slowing down the otherwise rational and precise thought process that happened in his exceptional head.

The light brown minibus drove into the golden hour, filling the vehicle's inside with a warm, calming light. You were sitting next to each other in complete and utter silence. You even felt a bit embarrassed. You didn’t know what to say. Should you be unserious or serious? Should you be playful, teasing or stoic? Hell, you didn’t even know if you should talk to him at all. This was quite troublesome.

You directed your gaze out at the window, plugged in your earphones, listening to some of your favourite music while subconsciously biting your lower lip. As you stared into the breathtaking horizon that was painted in vibrant yellow, orange, pink and red colours by the setting sun, a sense of calmness climbed over your shoulders like a soft, shielding scarf. Even a small smile got plastered on your face. Sundown always had this kind of effect on you. It was such a simple thing that happened every day. And maybe that’s what made it so charming for you. The gorgeously painted fairytale-like clouds served as a symbol of certainty. For you, the astounding scenery meant that no matter how hard, embarrassing or horrible the day was, the end of it was given. Nighttime always came, bringing a sense of freedom with itself.

Spencer wasn’t this sentimental over an astronomical phenomenon. The evening sky was undeniably nice, yes. But it was all simple light scattering, basic physics. Light rays hit particles in the air, changing the direction of the light and the colours were determined by the different wavelengths of light, plus the size of the particles in the atmosphere.

However, when the genius’s lingering gaze settled on your face, that was when he felt in awe. As if the setting sun was hinting loving kisses on you, specifically. The warm, glimmering rays of sunshine were dancing around you, making your irises shine brighter. It was almost ethereal. He couldn’t help but notice how you seemed more relaxed. He was carefully engraving every tiny detail into his brain; afraid he might miss something. For a moment, he forgot about his eidetic memory. And for a moment, he even forgot to analyse himself, to look for an answer for his strange behaviour and reason everything.

Even though all of this felt like an eternity, the curious glances lasted only a few seconds. It was short enough for you not to notice anything, but long enough for Derek to do so behind you, whose lips stretched into his signature grin at what he witnessed. This was the moment when he decided, under no circumstances will he let the two of you switch roommates. He’s had enough of the year-long foreplay between the residential smartasses.

×××

“Come on, pretty girl, out with it.” Morgan’s deep, silky laugh filled the small booth where part of the team was sitting as he pointed towards you with a glass of whiskey in hand. You tried to cover your flustered, red cheeks with your palms, but they were no help at all. In fact, this just worsened your situation, since the other four people also started giggling.

“A guest lecturer,” you mumbled in defeat and took a sip from your drink, which was rum mixed with ginger ale just to stall a bit.

“You did the dirty with your teacher?!” squealed Garcia on your left. Her expression showed surprise at first, but her lips quickly turned from an ‘o’ to a proud smirk. “Oh, you’re bad.”

“Naughty girl” Prentiss joined in with her signature teasing tone, she was sitting on your right. At this point, none of you were sober, not even the asshole doctor in front of you, which was an abundantly rare occurrence. He was mostly silent, even during dinner with the team. You thought he’d definitely take his leave after finishing his meal like Hotchner and Rossi did, but he stayed. Luckily, he didn’t feel like getting on your nerves that night, which was a tremendous help, given that the remaining people, however, all decided that that night would be the perfect opportunity to ask these kinds of questions.

“How much older was he?” leaned forwards JJ and she basically shot you in the head with this.

“Khm… 15.” you tried to cover the answer with your coughs with little to no success, causing the other girls to practically scream in disbelief. Derek at the left exit of the booth playfully shook his head and finished what remained of his drink, while the other man just stared at you with a slightly tilted head and raised brows. “Listen, in my defence, I didn’t know that he was a guest prof at the beginning, okay? Also, he had no relation to my grades, so I’m kind of in the clear, no?”

“Depends. I need to know every single itsy-bitsy detail.” Penelope didn’t want to make it easy for you, did she?

You leaned your head back and let out a painful, defeated moan. “Must you?”

“I think we’re all curious here, Y/N.” you didn’t exactly know who JJ tried to encourage, you or the team, but none of the options seemed too good for you.

“That’s not true. I’m sure Dr Reid couldn’t give a damn about the story, so how about we skip instead?” as your last dernier, you pointed towards your rival, expecting him to agree and save you from a rather embarrassing story time. To your greatest surprise, he shook his head and looked straight into your eyes.

“No, I’m very interested.” his tone caught you somewhat off guard. It seemed more confident than usual, yes, but that could’ve just been the alcohol. There was something else in it too. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you instinctively swallowed your saliva a bit harder. I’m gonna push a pillow into this smug motherfucker’s face, I swear to God.

“Fine. We met at the uni library; he was about to take away a book I desperately needed for an essay worth more than half my grade that semester. Since it was one of Rossi’s books, I didn’t want to pirate it, and I was broke as hell, so I asked if I could quickly snap some pics of the pages I needed. Instead, he offered that we could go through it together if I wanted. Long story short, we clicked almost immediately, study dates turned into real dates, and I genuinely thought he was a student like me, just a bit older but that’s all. I almost single-handedly proved that instantaneous human combustion did exist when he walked into a seminar as a fucking guest lecturer while I was sitting there in the first row.”

“So did you break up?” Emily slightly pushed your shoulder with hers, enjoying the scandalous gossip. These past weeks none of you had the time or energy to get together and let out some steam like this. Today’s 12-hour drive was the last straw for most of you and you decided you’d get some drinks before bed, but nobody planned to cross any kind of lines in terms of getting wasted, since another day was ahead of you that you’d spend in a small bus on the road. You bit your lower lip—still silently cursing the man in front of you for not saving you from this by saying he doesn’t give two fucks about you—which gave away your answer immediately. “You didn’t!”

“I think I’m calling it a day, guys. It’s late and if we don’t get some sleep, suicide will look hella sexy tomorrow.” you tried to save yourself from having to explain why you continued your somewhat scandalous relationship with the older man, who was also a guest professor, and you were nowhere near to being drunk enough for that conversation.

Garcia tried to change your mind, she wanted to know everything, especially since this was the first time you let them in a bit more intimately. Luckily though, the others agreed with what you said, so the team slowly started to get their coats, purses and whatever they had with them, then left the little bar near the accommodation.

Back in your small, minimalist hotel room, you couldn’t even hide how flustered you felt. The fact that you just shared such a personal detail about yourself in the presence of the unnerving man suddenly weighted on you, making your cheeks warm and rosy-coloured. It was worse that he said nothing to you. No statistics about teacher-student relationship or about age gaps. He didn’t even try to tease you.

When you walked out of the compact bathroom after taking a quick shower and doing your usual routine before bed, Reid was sitting on his single bed, seemingly deep in thought.

“Uhm… The bathroom is free.” Even though your voice was quiet, the awkwardness was still obviously noticeable. Spencer lifted his gaze, which had been resting on his palms up until now, to your flushed face, and his breath got caught for a quick moment. You were wearing an oversized T-shirt and seemingly soft cotton pants as pyjamas, which was cute, but what truly attracted his attention was the round glasses you were wearing.

Ever since fifth grade, you were blind as a bat. It was thanks to both genetics and the countless nights when you were reading under the blanket without any proper lighting. When you were on duty, you obviously used contact lenses, since wearing your glasses on the field would’ve been heavily dangerous and unprofessional, but now, after the hot and calming shower, right before bed, you had no reason to put back the carefully made, curved silicone-hydrogel pieces.

The doctor was mesmerised. Maybe because he wasn’t 100 per cent sober? Or simply he just wasn’t in his element, since you’ve never shared a room before and this whole scenario was so out of the ordinary for him.

But you just… you were so pretty like this. Not that you weren’t usually. But this look definitely did something to him.

Before you could’ve asked if he was okay, since he hadn’t reacted in any way, he nodded, stood up and went into the unoccupied bathroom. As the doctor walked past you, he quickly ran his gaze all over your comfortably clothed body. He wasn’t subtle, not even in the slightest, causing your already flustered cheeks to take on an even darker shade of red.

You sat down to your designated bed, your eyebrows in a frustrated furrow as you replayed everything weird that’s happened so far. What the hell is up with him today? Is this some kind of tactic to throw me off balance and make me seem dumb or something? While you were fuming silently, you tucked yourself in bed. You were lying on your side and took out the soft, big pillow from under your head to hug it instead. If you weren’t this worn out, you might have debated whether you should show even this about yourself or not, but not that day. It might have been childish, but quite frankly, you didn’t give a damn about it. You always had problems with falling asleep and sleeping in general, so when you accidentally discovered a few years ago that this method made things easier, you stuck with it. If yes, then he has fucked with the wrong person because I can be so much worse than him in every possible way. I’m going to redefine the meaning of menace in his vocabulary. As you drifted towards the oftentimes erratic, unpredictable world of dreams, you mumbled to yourself almost inaudibly. “Game on, doctor.”

By the time Spencer came out of the restroom, approximately half an hour later, you were already fast asleep. The sight of you, snuggling up to the pillow made the dimly lit room seem all the cosier. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep too, which was rather out of the ordinary.

Spencer was wearing one of his favourite black semi-casual suits with a grey button-up shirt and a black tie. He was standing in front of a small audience and was currently detailing the technicalities of building a geographical profile, what counts as a forensic countermeasure and what doesn’t.

As he enthusiastically explained one of the more difficult cases that he’d dealt with not so long ago, he scanned the small group of students who attended his lecture, looking for their reactions. Were they bored, was the class engaging enough? Did they find it useful or a waste of time? The moment he recognised you, sitting in the first row, even his expressive, almost talkative hands stopped for a moment. What the hell was going on?

You looked up from your carefully written notes and shot a genuine smile in his direction. You seemed like you usually did. Wearing something pretty but comfortable, your belongings decorated to resemble your personality, just as in real life. You also had those big, round glasses on that you were wearing before bed, sitting on your nose perfectly. He cleared his throat, fought his initial confusion and returned to teaching. However, he couldn’t ignore the glances you were giving to him from time to time.

After the class was over and the lecture hall emptied, you found your way to his desk where he was packing his books, notes and old laptop away.

“Today’s class was very informative,” you said with your arms behind your back as you tried initiating eye contact. As you stepped closer to him, you continued, “However, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a bit distracted, sir.”

What did you just call him?

He looked at you. A playful smirk was sitting on your beautiful face, your eyes had a similar glimmer in them. You were teasing him, he realised.

“Did I?” he placed his right palm on the massive table’s surface as he leaned towards you. Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your waist with his left hand and pulled you closer to him until your chests were pressed together. You were close enough that both of you were able to smell the other’s perfume, both of you felt the other’s hot, heavy breath on your skin. “I wonder what the reason for that could be,” he murmured while his lustful irises flickered between your eyes and your lips, drinking in the sight in front of him. He moved his right hand from the table to your chin, gently tilting your face upwards. As he finally closed the distance between you, pulling you into an eager, hungry kiss, he felt like an eternity-long starvation was over. He felt like he found something crucial he didn’t even know was missing until that very moment.

Your fingers found their way to his soft, curly hair. As you leaned deeper and deeper into the kiss, it started to seem more like the beginning of a heated make out session. You pulled on his locks, making him growl into your mouth and grab your hips stronger. He couldn’t hold himself back. Compared to what he felt now, it was like as if he’s never known desire before. He firmly grabbed both your tights and lifted you to the table.

As he was standing between your legs, about to devour you, the smell of coffee hit his nostrils. Coffee?

Against his strongest will, the doctor got pulled out of his dream by the currently not-so-pleasant combination of warm light and a caffeinated drink. He needed a moment to gather himself and his scattered thoughts. Because honestly, what the fuck did he just dreamt about? He… Was he your teacher? Did yesterday’s alcohol-fuelled conversation mess up his failproof brain that bad?

@halfbloodwriter (i don't know if you meant to tag you in the next chapter like this or add you in the tags T-T)

[reidiot]

it's like, i want to do something, and then i remember a criminal minds episode

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Okay, okay I'll bite :) if you do write Rossi can we get grumpy, jealous old man who decides actually yes he would very much like to devour you and he's gonna... que possessive kissing and smut?

No problem if not but thank you for listening 😊

AH FINALLY A ROSSI REQUEST I immediately had inspiration strike with this!

SSA David Rossi x BAU!Reader

Summary: When a case leads the team to having to go undercover in a swingers club, the youngest woman and oldest man of the team get paired together. Tensions are high, leading to some confrontations.

CW: AGE GAP, jealous!Rossi, jealous!Reader, encounters with unsubs, murder, sprinkle of angst?, possessive!Rossi, possible misuse of Italian phrases, fingering, p in v,

a/n: first time writing for Rossi be gentle on me guys 😭

~~~

“What if there’s two of them?”

Dr. Spencer Reid, your insanely intelligent colleague proposed. Causing a new light to shine down on the case before you. Homicides, always a male and a female, always drastically different in age, keys hidden in the male’s pocket. Recent findings pointed to the unsub, or now unsubs, striking at a swingers meetup. Notorious in this city.

“Just because their bodies are found together doesn’t mean they’re being taken at the same time,” you added.

“Exactly! It would make perfect sense. An older male to lure in the younger female victims, and a younger female to rope in the older males,” Reid proclaimed.

“They’d blend in perfectly,” Hotch stated matter-of-factly.

“So you’re saying we have a killing duo on our hands?” Rossi questioned.

“But how has no one been able to identify who they’ve left with? If they are striking at the same club every single time, someone would’ve had to seen something,” Emily nibbled on the tip of her pen as she thought.

“When you’re somewhere like that, you try not to notice others. Usually swingers have their eyes set on one other couple, one they’ve most likely seen there before. We’re looking for a couple who are set on taking out a new member of the party. Someone who wouldn’t be familiar with anyone else,” Hotch answered.

“So they wouldn’t even notice that something was out of the norm,” Morgan added.

“Looks like someone is going to need to go undercover,” J.J. looked around.

That made the air in the room tighten. It was always a huge risk letting an agent out into the active scene. Let alone two.

“Y/L/N, David. You two will have to do this,” Hotch locked eyes with you. Brow stern against his forehead.

“What?” You asked, confused by his certainty.

No one else on the Team knew of you and Rossi’s quiet falling out. Rossi had taken you home during a high risk case. Refusing to let any of the women go home alone. Leading to you and Rossi sharing a few drinks inside your apartment. Alcohol causing a personal topic to arise between you. Ending with you straddling Rossi’s lap as the two of you interlocked mouths. Hands roaming each other’s bodies before Rossi pulled back. “We can’t do this,” he could not longer look you in the eyes. Breaking something deep inside you. Allowing your anger to persevere, storming off to your room and locking the door.

Things had never been the same between you.

“Oldest male on the team, and the youngest female. Sounds like their M.O. to me,” Reid chirped.

Your eyes darted to Rossi, who was as calm and collected as ever. Seemingly unbothered by Hotch’s order.

“H-Hotch—“

“It’s an order, Agent,” Hotch sternly shut down your pleas.

You sighed. Composing yourself. Preparing for the directions you were going to receive.

For the next few hours, you were prepped for your night. Carefully being instructed on how to act to draw the killers in. Clothing and jewelry being picked out for you, down to the most minor details. Hair pulled back in a high-ponytail as to make you seem younger. Decorated with some expensive looking jewelry and a full face of makeup. Dress resting mid-thigh. Rossi wore a nice button-down, opened at the top to reveal a gold chain dangling from his neck.

Hotch and Morgan dropped you off a long walks away from the club. Repeating everything you had previously been coached on.

“Aaron, we’ve got this. We can hear you in our ears and everything,” Rossi calmed him.

“If I tell you to back out, you back out,” Hotch locked eyes with you.

“Yes sir,” you nodded.

Rossi got out, silently holding the door for you. Offering his hand to help you out. Taking it as to play into character. Knowing this would be your hardest challenge of the evening: Having to play nice with David. Interlocking arms as you began down the sidewalk. No words being spoken for many blocks.

“You look beautiful,” Rossi complimented.

“Don’t flatter me,” you rolled your eyes, voice not above a whisper.

Finally turning the corner to see hoards of couples of all ages nonchalantly walking into the building. You were on high alert. Trying to already detect the suspects based off how they looked at you.

Rossi’s arm snaked around your waist, hand resting on your hip. You leaned your body into his side. Trying to solidify the part you were selling. He nodded at the bouncer as you walked inside. Heading to the bar as you had been told to, ordering a drink for both of you. Having to fake some conversation and a certain kind of innocence.

“Remember, they will want to approach you. Make sure not to coax anyone in,” Morgan said in your ear.

“Reid will be in there shortly to keep an eye. Y/N, when you get him alone, Reid will be waiting for your signal to apprehend him. Rossi has cuffs hidden,” Hotch reassured in your ear.

Your eyes remained on Rossi. Fingers twirling his loose fitting tie around his neck. His eyes fixated on yours, occasionally dropping to look at your cleavage hanging out of your top. Not so casually checking you out with a smile.

“Have you ever done anything like this, David?”

“Swinging?” He laughed, “Of course not. It was all the rage when I was younger. Just never tickled my fancy.”

“What about having a pretty young girl throwing herself at you?” You flirted, hooded eyes staring up at him. Closing the distance between you.

Rossi’s mouth hung open as you got nose to nose with him. Unable to deny how flustered you were getting him. Sweet aroma filling his nose as he fought himself from leaning in and kissing you. Knowing how inappropriate it would be. That being the reason he had shut you down before. Not wanting to have anymore new rules made because he got overly friendly with someone. No matter how badly he wanted you.

“Hey,” a male voice pulled you away from Rossi.

Turning on your heel to face the older man. A young blonde woman hooked to his side. Both of them moderately attractive. Perfectly fitting the description of the unsubs.

“Hi,” you dolled up your voice as you fluttered your lashes at him. Rossi’s hand splayed across your lower back. Fingers digging into the tender skin.

“We couldn’t help but notice you two from across the room. You guys come here often?” the young girl asked, her attention fully on your partner.

“Actually, our first time,” Rossi’s deep voice had a hint of flirtation on it.

“Oh wow!” the older man raised his eyebrows with his words, “Well, I’m Craig. And this is my Penny.” Extending his hand out to shake yours. Smiling as you exchanged pleasantries together. Rossi and Penny doing the same.

“I’m David, and this is Y/N,” Rossi smiled, making sure to keep his eyes locked in on the girl.

“So are you guys looking for someone for the night?” Craig asked casually.

“Uh— I believe that’s how all this works right?” Rossi chuckled softly. Trying his best to play it completely casual. Both of you knowing there was a good chance this was the couple you were looking for.

Craig laughed at Rossi’s ignorance, “Pretty much. We have fun tonight and bring them home in the morning. Now, David, I’m gonna need you to be real sweet and nice to my beautiful Penny. She can sometimes be feisty, be prepared for the craziest night of your life.”

Rossi cocked a brow at the young woman before him. Taking a step away from you to inch closer to her.

A feeling you had been fighting all night finally began to boil up inside you. You knew it was all an act. But something about Rossi acting like he was interested in her made your stomach flip. Knowing you could not show any hint of jealousy. Deciding to plunge yourself head first into the unsub.

You walked closer to him, hands flattening against his chest. “So I guess that leaves you and me,” you looked up at him through your lashes. The man before you sighed, toothy grin painting his face. You could feel Rossi’s eyes digging into you from behind. Not even giving him a side glance. His touch burned against your skin in a way that had every hair standing on end. Knowing something was off about him. Feeling a pit forming in your stomach and knot in your throat. Having to keep composure.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” He suggested. Offering him a girlish giggle. Allowing him to take your hand in his to lead you away.

Rossi’s chest burned. Mouth running completely dry as he watched a killer pull you away. Having to take a deep breath before giving his attention back to the other killer.

“Don’t be so tense, old timer. Craig will treat her good,” Penny swiped her fingers up his chest. Rossi bit his tongue. Teeth grinding together as he followed behind the girl. Leading to a remote room off to the side. Pulling him through the curtain with her, hands roaming his body. Rossi was noticeably tense.

“I know how to help you relax,” she dropped to her knees before him. Hands ghosting up his legs, stopping when she felt something stiff in his pocket. Doeing her eyes up at him, “What’s in there~?”

Rossi was quick to grab the handcuffs out of his pocket. Jingling the chain in front of her. A soft smirk on his lips.

“Wow, didn’t expect someone like you to be into that sort of thing,” she cooed, “Bring those for little ole me?”

Rossi’s finger tapped under her chin, urging her to stand. Quickly grabbing her and pinning her against the table in front of him. Locking the cuffs around her wrists especially tight, “I always have to keep cuffs for scumbags like you and your friend. You’re under arrest for the murders of several goers to this club.”

Penny scoffed. Fighting back against his grip, rolling her body onto the floor. Rossi was quick to pin her in her place, holding her down firm, “Quit resisting!” Patting down and not finding any weapons on her. Realizing she was a distraction so Craig could get rid of the women first, then come and take care of the men.

“You’ll never get to her in time. Craig’s already got that beautiful face of hers cut to shreds,” Penny growled, demonically smiling over her shoulder. Sending a certain chill down David’s spine.

“Reid! I need you to come keep hands on her. I’m going to get Y/N!” Rossi shouted into his hidden mic as he kept the young woman pinned to the ground.

Reid quickly sprinted into the club room, handcuffs dangling from his long fingers. Rossi quickly grabbed them from him as he hurried to the side you had been taken to.

The Killer had you pinned against a wall somewhere behind the building. Nose trailing your neck. Causing you to lose your breath. Still having to pretend like you were enjoying your time with him.

“Does it make you feel like a fucking whore?”

Your heart sank. Mouth running dry when the sound of his hands shimming in his pocket rang in your ears.

“What?”

“Running off with some random guy? While my girl is in there showing your man how to properly get laid?” His hand trailed up your exposed thigh.

“I thought that was why everyone was here?”

“Men can’t help their need to breed as many women as possible. That’s what you’re good for. That’s why I’m making sure my sweet girl gives your man everything he’s been missing,” his voice disgusted you.

The cold blade flattened against your thigh. Fear seeping into your veins for the first time tonight. Gasping shallowly. Swiftly kneeing him at the crotch. Causing him to stumble backwards if only for a moment.

The door being kicked out caused you to jump.

There was Rossi. Panting and hair disheveled. Lights of the club illuminating him like your guardian angel. Rossi did not hesitate to layout the man in front of you. Clean fist to the face causing Craig to hit the ground. Pinning him down as he continued punching him over and over again. Blood splattered in the air momentarily before Rossi realized what he was doing. Flipping him over onto his back to cuff him just like he had Penny.

“You’re done! No more coaxing couples away for your sick fantasies!” Rossi barked down at him, firm hand holding his head against the ground. Hotch and Morgan were quick inside. Guns held to protect them. Morgan allowed Rossi off him, escorting the killer out to the troopers.

Rossi’s hand flattened against his hair. Turning quickly to look at you. Back still pressed firmly against the wall, hand gripping at your chest. Still shocked that he had pulled a weapon on you. “Oh God, Y/N,” Rossi came over, hands cupping both sides of your face, “Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head, unable to form words. Feeling tears suddenly burning down your cheeks. Losing yourself in fear just for a moment. Rossi’s brows were upturned, his concern for you abundantly clear on his face. Eyes scanning every inch of you with worry. Suddenly pulling you into a tight hug. Arms wrapping around and a hand resting on your head. Hips lips pressing a tender kiss into your scalp. Your arms wrapped around him, nestling your face into his shoulder.

Finally feeling safe again. Steadying out your breath into his skin, “Thank you, David.”

You knew the BAU would not let anything happen to you. However, whenever you’re off alone with someone who has the intent to murder you fear finds a way of crawling under your skin. And when you felt his weapon drawl and no one was around, it truly took over.

Hotch’s hand flattened against your arm, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, “He had just pulled out his knife. H-He didn’t hurt me.”

“Good,” Hotch nodded, giving a reassuring look to Rossi as he walked through the door to follow behind Derek.

Rossi kept right next to you. Arm wrapping around you. Similar to before. Only now you felt engulfed by him. Taken aback by how scared he had looked. And how he held you so closely now. Not letting anyone pry you away. Walking you back to your other team members. All of which were equally as concerned. All of them examining and hugging you.

An overwhelming rush of exhaustion washed over you. Excusing yourself and crawling into the back of one of the SUVs. Waiting for whoever the driver would be to take the wheel and take you home. Not concerned with going to the office for your own vehicle. Finally having a moments peace. Alone.

Minutes ticked by when you were jolted aware by the sound of the drivers door opening. Jumping, nervous system still in defense mode. Sitting up to see Rossi taking his seat. Eyes looking back at you in the rear view. Soft, squinted eyes greeted you with a smile.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s just me,” Rossi’s mature voice softly reassured. You sighed, attempting to fully sit up. Rossi held his hand up at you, “Relax. Lay down and I’ll wake you when we get there.” Something about his voice had a warmth washing over you. Comforting you even more than being alone had.

You drifted in and out of a light slumber. Instinctively knowing all the turns and curves to your place. Coming to when you felt him pull into a parking spot. Before you could sit up, Rossi had already gotten out and was opening the door for you. Extending his ring clad hand out to help you to your feet. A quiet “thank you” meekly escaped you.

The walk to your apartment door was completely silent. The click of your heels on the pavement rattling the peaceful symphony of the night. Chill of the breeze pricking at your skin. Turning on your heel when you finally reached the door. Smiling at Rossi, “Well… thank you, again. For everything.”

Rossi looked around, tucking his face down in an attempt to hide the glow of his cheeks. Tonight made him realize just how much he cared about you. Denying for months that certain tug in his chest when he would see you smile or hear you laugh. How the smell of your perfume would linger deep inside him. Bringing him back to the last time he had brought you home.

Brown eyes looked into yours. Dimly yellow porch light illuminated his face. Admiring your hero before you. Trying to push down your feelings for him. Having to respect the boundary he had set with you. No matter how badly it hurt you.

You began fiddling with your lock. Key clicking inside. Looking over your shoulder one last time to tell Rossi bye.

Surprised with the look on his face.

Sad eyes met yours. Glossy in the pale light. Eyebrows furrowed together with concern. A hint of frustration shown on his jaw. Locked tightly while his nostrils flared.

“Y/N—“

Rossi reached for you when you began inside. That was when you saw the blood and bruises on his knuckles. Turning quickly and taking his hand in yours, “Oh, Rossi. Why didn’t you let the medics fix this?”

Fingers lightly tapped at the open wound. Causing Rossi to scrunch his nose up in pain. Flickering your gaze up to his face. “Come in and let me get you bandaged,” you wrapped your hand around his wrist pulling him in the door with you. Leading him into your kitchen to take a seat at the island. Sighing as he sat on one of the tall stools.

“It’s not that bad—“ he protested as he watched you walk over and lock the door.

“Just let me help you,” you breathed out, walking over to your sink and squatting. Looking under the cabinet for your first aid kit. Rummaging through all the old cleaning supplies and sponges still in their wrapper. Finally seeing the transparent box with a red heart on the front. Taking your place in front of Rossi as the box laid open on the countertop.

Taking a wet cloth and dabbing the dried blood from his knuckles. Rossi’s eyes locked into your face the entire time. Watching how your closed mouth smile never faltered. How gentle your hands were with his gashes and bruises. Admiring how your fingers traced the lines and bumps on his hands. Like you wanted to learn every blemish and scar.

“You really let that guy have it, didn’t you?”

Rossi chuckled.

Truly he had not even realized he was beating the unsub up as bad as he was. Lost in his rage for you. His instincts telling him to show the guy a lesson. To somehow avenge your honor. Jealousy playing a part in his anger.

“It’s like I blacked out,” Rossi sighed.

“Never seen you get so angry at a case.”

“Well. Your safety isn’t on the line every case,” Rossi nonchalantly confessed. Causing your eyes to bounce up to his suddenly. Full, brown orbs meeting yours with a smile. Shaking off the heat in your face. Focusing back on his hand, getting the last bit of tape around it. Hair falling down loosely in front of your face.

Rossi’s other hand came up to tuck it behind your ear. You looked up at him through your lashes. Hooded eyes meeting yours. A closed mouth smile plastered across his face. Hand lingering on your cheek.

“I shouldn’t have ever let you go,” his soft voice breathed out.

“It was part of the mission, Rossi—“

“That’s not what I mean,” Rossi leaned in, planting his lips to yours. Hand delicately caressing the side of your face. Body overloading with feelings. Unsure if you should allow this to happen. Wanting so badly to melt into him. He was the one who set the boundary. And now he’s here in your apartment. Kissing you.

“David, please…” you breathed out, begging, “Don’t string me on again. I can’t handle… can’t handle you leaving me again.”

“Shhh,” he reassured, “I won’t. I promise you have me. I’m not walking away this time.”

You pressed into him. Deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Rossi’s hands gripped your hips, softly cascading down to your ass. Feeling the plump skin through your hiked up dress. Fingers daring to pull the material the rest of the way up.

“I’m sorry that son of a bitch even put his hands on you,” Rossi grumbled. Possessive nature showing. Calloused digits digging into your flesh. Rising off the stool so that your bodies could meet.

“Don’t be sor—“

“I wanted to kill him,” Rossi growled into your mouth, “Knock his fucking teeth in.”

Something about the tone on his voice had you weak in the knees. Maybe it was the grip he had on your ass. Maybe it was the feeling of his semi-hard pressing into your front.

“That asshole didn’t even know who he was dealing with. Hands on my girl… I should’ve shot him,” Rossi continued as he walked you back into the living room.

His girl.

Shocking you with how quickly he delved into you. Clearly fed up with having to hide anything he was feeling. Wanting to make it known how much he cherished you. Just a sliver of how important you were to him.

You fell onto the couch when it met the back of your knees. Rossi crawled on top of you, hands roaming up your exposed thighs. Fingers splaying on both sides of his face as he latched back onto your lips. Dress hiking up as he found his place between your legs.

Rossi’s tongue split your lips. Licking up into your mouth. Wanting to taste every bit of you. Devouring your lips with his.

His hands found the hem of your panties. Cold rings tickling your heated skin. Lips planting themselves on your neck. Decorating wet kisses along the skin. Catching a moan in your throat when his teeth grazed a soft spot.

“Bellissima,” Rossi muttered.

Sitting back on his knees to pull your panties down your legs. Exposing your soaking core to the cool air of your apartment. Sending a shiver up your spine. Causing air to hitch in your throat. Doe eyeing him innocently.

“What is it?” Rossi’s soft expression had you seeing spots. Face completely flushed at his gravely tone. Teasing you as if his fingers were not mere inches from where you wanted them most.

“Please,” you pouted.

That sad face had his heart tugging. Skipping a beat with the way the dim light of the kitchen reflected so beautifully in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he dipped down to press his lips back against yours. Fingers finally dipping between your folds. Pulling a guttural gasp from you. Hands gripping his shoulders as you wide-eyed him.

Swirling gently around your clit, enjoying the way your face contorted in pleasure. Finally inserting one of his thick fingers into you. Forcing an arch from your back at the sudden fullness. Brows pressing together and your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape.

“You’re so wet, amore,” Rossi smiled lips kissing down to the exposed pieces of breast that peaked through the top of your dress. Lightly sinking his teeth into the meaty flesh. Biting a soft purple bruise. Marking you as his.

“Dave,” you moaned as he curled a finger inside. His tongue flattened against the bruise on your chest, soothing the burning sting for a moment. Trailing back up to your neck. “Should I put one here too? Make sure everyone knows?” his tone was dark as his canine gently grazed. Moaning breathlessly for him. Fingers still coaxing you towards your finish. Thumb stimulating your nub.

Hand tangling in his hair as you began grinding against his fingers. A gruff chuckle vibrated in David’s chest, “So needy.”

“I need it,” you whined as your nails scratched at his scalp. Feeling yourself so close to the edge. Chasing your high on his hand. Fingers that were perfectly made to fit you. To please you.

“Give it to me,” Rossi kissed below your ear. Hot breath stinging your skin. Eyes rolling back as you quivered around him. Moaning loudly as you fluttered around his fingers. Feeling a burn in your lower half that perfectly warmed you. Loving how he smiled, watching your face with lust blown eyes.

Decorating your hot skin with his gentle lips. Finishing with a passionate one on your lips. Pulling his fingers from you. Admiring the way they glistened with your juices. Placing them between his lips. Humming in satisfaction, “Next time I’ll have to taste it directly from the source.”

You smiled, somehow blushing at his words. Fingers petting down his back. Never having been with someone this enamored by you. Wanting every little piece of you only for himself. Claiming you as his and his alone.

“Do you have it in you for me?” David kissed you gently as he sat up, removing his button-down above you. Butterflies floated around your stomach. Anticipation causing you so much excitement. You nodded aggressively. Sitting up to help him remove his clothing. Your hands tugging his belt out of its loops. Throwing it to the side as you ran your hands against his bare chest.

“I want you inside me,” you kissed his neck. Lips turning hungry against his tan skin. Biting into his shoulder momentarily. Rossi groaned, fingers tugging down the zipper along your spine. Dress falling loose around your shoulders, making it easy for him to pull it over your head. Tossing it aside somewhere that did not matter right now. Both of you shimmying to remove the other’s clothes; Rossi’s hands on your bra and yours on his zipper.

Rossi leaned you back against the couch, skin pressing together. Soft chest hair tickling against your breasts. Cock prodding against your entrance. His gaze attempting to memorize every hill and valley of your body. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,” he kissed you in between each word.

Large hand coming down to line himself up with you, slowly pressing into you. Allowing just the tip in first, making sure you could adjust. Finally bottoming out with a slow and steady thrust. Rolling his hips into you, throat tightened as your walls gripped around him.

Rossi found a rhythm that had you calling out to him. Swearing you had never felt anything this good. Filling your insides perfectly with his girth. Stubble prickling on the skin of your clavicle as he kissed along your neck. Hums vibrating your skin with each meeting of hips.

“I’ll never let another person touch you again,” Rossi promised taking a deep breath. Teeth gritted together as his hips grew erratic. Swearing under his breath. Arm hooking under your lower back, arching you further. Other hand gripping the arm of the couch.

“Only mine. Right, baby?” Rossi said, more of a statement than a question. You nodded, moaning when the head of his cock hit a soft spot deep inside you. Shooting pleasure through you.

“Cock too good? Can’t even talk to me?” Rossi’s condescension made your eyes roll back. Deep voice edging you along. Tender lips growing aggressive against yours. Sloppily kissing against your mouth, pulling your lip between his teeth. You were completely lost in ecstasy.

Your still sensitive pussy had you close to another orgasm. Constricting when his body would become flush with yours. Knowing if he kept this pace up you would be a screaming mess underneath him.

“Perfect,” Rossi’s husky voice exhaled. Feeling himself approaching his own high. Fingers digging into your tender flesh as he twitched inside you.

Completely enamored by the sounds you made. Each meeting of hips causing a symphony and squeaks. A melody he knew he would never get tired of.

“Wanna be filled up with me, sweet girl? Make sure you feel who you belong to. A little reminder,” Rossi groaned.

“Please, Dave,” you whined.

The curve of his cock finally sent you over the edge. Waves of ecstasy washed over your body. Shaking, hands reaching out to hold tightly onto him. Screaming his name as your insides convulsed. Rossi cooed and smiled, hips rutting as he finished. Coating your walls with white hot.

Both of you panting. Refusing to move. Loving the warmth of each other’s bodies. Sweat glistening on your skin.

Rossi’s hand came up and caressed your face. Dark eyes lingering in yours. Leaning down and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. Rosy cheeks and glistening eyes admiring one another.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” Your exhausted voice hummed against your lips.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Rossi chuckled.

The two of you gently got up. Matured, tender hands helped you clean up. Taking your time as you wandered off to your bedroom. Snuggling together under your cold sheets.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed my first David Rossi story, I really appreciate the ask! My inbox is always open, if you want to be tagged in the future! //

{tags}

@jerk-bending ~ @heif ~ @cherriready ~

[casedclosedbye]

BAU on Crack pt 1:

Derek morgan: it's not a cliter(i), it's a cliter(us)

Hotch: ...

Penelope: O(u)rgasm if you will

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 9: His angel girl

genre: comfort, smut (minor do not interact!!)

word count: 5902

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you two take a step into getting back to normal... or at least trying.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

would like to welcome all the new readers and to dedicate this chapter to the beautiful @starofthedawn who's been reading and commenting on my chapters since the beginning <3 thank you for your undying support love! means the world!

“Happy Monday!” 

You want to shoot her in the head. You want to turn around, grab Officer Kaper’s gun from his holster, and shoot her in the head, and you want to stop wanting to shoot her in the head. For someone who probably had the most magical Sunday of her life, you are not in such great mood once the consequences of sleeping a total of two hours sets in. Spencer deals with it much better than you, and you wince just remembering how snippy you were when he woke you up with the same kisses that had you moaning just hours ago. Lucky for you, though, he only laughs and pushes a full mug of coffee your way. Spencer knows you well despite the little time you two have been living together. But then again, if he really tries, Spencer would know anyone well. 

“Ah, happy Monday,” You say, shooting Officer Kaper a look that has him snorting. “Did you have any questions about the starter email? Sorry it wasn’t super in depth, it’s my first time hiring someone to help me.”

“That is absolutely okay, I’m sure I can learn a lot from you today!” 

It should be exciting, finally having the store open full time and with help to keep it functioning, but you’re just so exhausted that you can’t find it in you to be your usual cheery self. Not when just hours ago, you were feeling like you had endless energy, charging through Spencer’s touches. 

After JJ left his apartment, quite begrudgingly, you must admit, you two finally have some time to breathe. It sounds cliche, really, cheering for the moments you two can be together without an audience, but lately, there has been so few of them that it’s almost impossible to not turn selfish when they come about. And my god, are you selfish then… Spencer can’t move to the kitchen without you following him. But to your credit, he doesn’t seem to be all that comfortable with moving away from you either, and that is how you two end up in his room, digging through his mismatched socks drawer with so much gusto that it might just look like you found the long lost treasure of Atlantis. 

“You have no matching socks!” You giggle, shivering a little when you feel his presence behind you. His breath hits your nape, and Spencer drops a gentle kiss there. “Sweetheart, do I need to buy you socks?” 

“No,” He mumbles and just by the tone of his voice you know he’s distracted with dragging his lips through your neck, biting, kissing, grazing. Spencer is having his own fun with you, one that has nothing to do with the fact that your feet are freezing and his heater seems to be giving up on getting his apartment at a liveable temperature. When you ask him to look into it, he chuckles and tells you that he can fix it, that he will fix it. This, however, doesn’t look like he’s fixing it. “But you can keep calling me sweetheart.” 

Cocking your head to the side, giving him more space to work his magic. Something inside of you keens at the way he grabs at your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there with a demanding attitude that is new and welcome, and you wonder if this has anything to do with how he finally spoke out. Taking control of a situation is always somewhat of a thrill, and you think Spencer is basking in his newfound confidence by pushing it a little further.

Not that you are complaining. Much to the contrary– a sharp exhale leaves your lips the moment he brushes those teasing lips on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, and you can feel the way he smirks, doing it again just to draw a whine out of you. “Spence,” Your voice goes all high pitched with the way he adds pressure with each kiss, the way his hands slide from holding you by the waist to encircling you completely. “Spence, what are you doing?” 

His chuckle sends another wave of shudders through you. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” He whispers back, taking one step, then another, and another, until your knees push against the edge of his mattress and his kissed turn into light suckles travelling all around. At this point, you get yourself ready for the bruises you can feel blooming on your skin. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me, I promise, angel. My angel girl…”

One day, when you think back to this moment, you’ll blame the ‘my angel girl’ for the way you so quickly clambered up to bed, hands grabbing him by that tie he insists on wearing even inside the house and tugging him down with a force you’ll probably never be able to conjure ever again. You’ll blame the ‘pretty girl’ and the ‘my Y/N’. You’ll blame the way his eyes plead, oh so quietly but never subtly, for you to get closer, to kiss him harder. You’ll blame him and his pretty lips, his pretty skin, his pretty legs. 

Everything about his is pretty, and you can’t help the excitement growing in you with each button undone. Oh, the amount of times you’ve dreamt of unbuttoning these shirts he religiously wears, uncovering inch of skin by inch of skin, dropping a kiss in every new bit of him that you get to see. Spencer is not as quiet as you thought he’d be– he rambles, and pants, and moans, and you smile because you know you’re the one dragging these sinful noises out of him, and you know that this show is all for you and you only. Spencer is not far behind though, and his hands are as equally busy– they pull, tug, rip, unzip; they do all they can until you’re left in your mismatched underwear and him, only in his boxer briefs. For some odd reason, you’re slightly disappointed that his tight underwear, outlining those beautiful thighs of his, are not purple. 

It’s cute, how his cheeks blush when his eyes land on your breasts, even if they seem stuck there for a while. “Spence,” You whisper, hand raising to caress his cheek. You are blushed yourself, redness going down your neck and chest, but you don’t mind it much, not when he seems to follow down the path of shyness you’ve created like it was the map to heaven. “Spence, is… is this okay?” 

“So much more than okay,” Spencer whispers back, face turning gently to kiss the palm of your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this okay for you?”

“So much more than okay,” You agree, smiling wide and pulling him down for another ravenous kiss. Like an instinct, your legs move to wrap around his waist, squeezing until every bit of him presses against every bit of you. 

And then you feel him, hot and heavy, and you exhale a sharp breath that has him jumping, trying to put some distance between you two as if he had somehow hurt you. “Are you okay?! Are you–“ You shut him up effectively with one more pull by the legs, hips dragging your heart against him and having him exhale as sharp as you. 

Raising your brow in a silent challenge, you mutter, “Are you okay?” With every word your lips brush against his and for once, in a long, long time, you feel good about yourself. You feel powerful, in command… sexy. The last time a man looked at you the way Spencer is looking at you had been years ago, and it hadn’t even been Josh. Josh never looked at you like that, like you could solve all his issues and pains with just one kiss, no, no; Josh looked at you like a challenge. A task. An objective. You never want to be looked at like that ever again. 

No. For the rest of your life, all you want is for Spencer to look at you like he’s doing right now. Specifically him, because if it’s not coming from those melting, honey eyes, you don’t want it. “Oh,” You breathe out, too lost in your head to have felt his hand moving upwards from your waist to sneak under your bra, nimble fingers squeezing it in an experimenting feel. From the way he bends down to kiss you, other hand rushing to unclasp the garment and throw it somewhere in the room, it must feel really fucking good. He takes it to a whole other level, though, when his lips– those lips you adore so much, that you spent hours watching move and talk and lecture– wrap around a perk nipple. “Oh, Spence…”

Sex is incredibly intimate for you. Is an act of giving and taking and giving back, and it’s a constant exchange that leaves you floating, on good times; on bad ones, it makes you feel as heavy as a rock. Just from his kisses alone you already feel weightless, so you know that from now on, there is only great things coming. Great things like how he grinds his hips down on you, catching onto your most sensitive spot again and again and again, and you’re not sure when was it that you desperately pulled his boxers down, but when you come back to yourself, climbing down from the building pleasure of having Spencer humping you like an uncontrolled teenager, you have him stark naked… and you’ll dream of this for the rest of your life. 

Naked Spencer is not the most confident, but he’s not coy about it either. In all fairness, you don’t think his brain, usually brilliant and expansive and now working in a one-track mind, is able to juggle a lot at the moment, and you chuckle at how awkwardly endearing he looks. One hand moves to push his hair our of his face, basking into the way he smiles at you, so brightly and larger than life. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, forehead resting against his. “So beautiful…” 

“I’m afraid that would be you, darling angel,” Spencer kisses you quickly rubbing his hands on your arms, your back. “So pretty for me… all mine.” 

“All yours,” You agree, arching into his touch. It’s not possessiveness that you catch in his voice, but desperation. Fear. Need. Spencer is not dominating you, he’s not taking and taking and taking; he’s simply going along with a pace that is set by the both of you. You two are like water, moulding to each other, soft yet strong. No one has more power than the other, and no one commends nor obeys. This is a collaboration of two weirdly shy people trying to push past their natural hesitations to make something beautiful. 

Your hand slides down his chest, between your bodies, and grabs a hold of his cock. For a man that despised touch, Spence let out an eager groan, pushing his hips up towards your touch, and you whine. You want to be touched too, and he catches on instantly. Your sweet profiler, reading you even when his eyes could barely focus on yours. “So good,” He said, clumsy mouth trying to kiss yours while speaking. “So fucking good.” 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Spencer curses, the word so foreign to him that you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through you right there and then. Spencer knows, too, with how he gently slides his hand under your panties, finger diving into your wetness shamelessly. “So fucking good.”

There is not embarrassment in how loudly the sounds your body makes echoes in the room. Mixed with both your breathing, your moans, and the way your skin hits so perfectly, the sound of your eagerness is just another instrument in the symphony of you guys’ pleasure. “Spence, come on,” You whine again.

When you try to push your underwear down your legs, Spence gently slaps your hand away, tutting at you with a glint of mischievousness. Instead, he hooks his own fingers on the sides of it and makes a point of dragging it down as slow as possible. By the time he has your legs up in the air and finally gets it off of you, you are wiggling in place. “Stay still,” He gently admonishes you, nipping at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. It’s almost like Spencer is adamant on killing you slowly, keeping you teetering at the edge of a precipice created by him and him only. It’s up to him to push you over. Safe to say, with the way his lips slowly move from you ankle, down your legs, inching closer and closer to where you want him the most, you are as good as dead already, now it was all about enjoying the ride. “I want to make sure I commit this to memory.” 

“Y-You have an eidetic memory, S-Spencer– oh my god,” Your voice wobbles a little at the first touch of his mouth to your folds. Despite your�� occasional dirty dream of Spencer, you had no expectations for this at all. After your conversation with Penelope, it was obvious that your beautiful nerd hadn’t had the most common teenage-hood. He had never experienced those marks of growing up– had never made out under a bleacher, never passed notes to his friends during class, never put a sock on the door of his dorm. Besides Lila and Maeve, you know nothing about his past relationships, and you found Lila’s name because of an article that leaked a photo of them kissing on a pool. Sure, you weren’t all that glad to now have the picture of Spencer kissing someone else ingrained in your brain, but it made you happy to know he had people appreciating him for all he is, before you. 

So safe to say it surprises you to know that Spencer knows how to use his mouth, and knows it well. Part of you wants to look at him, watch him eat you out like the starved man he apparently is and try, your damned hardest, to never forget it. Unlike him, you’re but a mere human that, at the moment, is so lost in pleasure that you’re not even sure if you remember your name. Doesn’t take long to have you shaking in his hands, legs trembling around his head and hips pinned down by his hands. “Let go,” Spencer whispers, opening his eyes just for a second, just to catch a glimpse of your face as he licks you whole, just right until he’s able to wrap those lips– those sinful lips– around your clit. That is your undoing, and before you can even warn him, your thighs snap closed around his head and you cum, moaning Spencer’s name like he is the prayer that will keep you alive. 

“Hmmm,” He brings you back to life with the soft little trail of kisses he drops on his way back up. In his tongue there are traces of you, of your taste, of your soul, and you are addicted with well it mixes with him. “You truly are sweet, angel.” 

“And tomorrow, I’ll figure out how sweet you are,” It’s a promise and one that you full intend to keep, though right now you truly think you will go insane if you don’t feel him like how you’ve been yearning to all night. “But right now, I really need you to–“

“To what?” He asks when your voice dies down, suffocated by the sudden feel of his cock rubbing against you just right. “Hm? What do you need, angel girl? Tell me and I’ll do anything for you…” 

Seeing Spencer so lost in pleasure is something new. His hair looks wild and his eyes are hungry and curious, focused on you and you only. He catches every reaction, every little twitch of your hips, every breathy whine; Spencer memorises everything. This will be stored in a little box inside his head, for those nights alone in strange hotel rooms in even stranger cities. For the afternoons with too little work and too many insecurities clouding his head. For the mornings when you leave before him and he can’t make you whine his name like you’re doing right now. His name… my god, his name is all he wants to hear coming out of your mouth; his name and those little gasps that send jolts of electricity up and down his spine. When you look up at him, arms going around his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss Spencer is smiling. It’s bright and wide and true and you think– no, no you know– and you know you’re falling in love with this man. 

You hike a leg up his waist, brushing yourself all over him, and you smile back. It doesn’t last long, though, because Spencer chooses that moment to push inside of you, biting your shoulder in a failed attempt to hide the guttural groan rising up his throat. “Holy shit,” You mumble, eyes threatening to close. This is all very overwhelming– in the best way possible, surely, but still overwhelming. There is the sting of stretching grounding you, but it quickly dissolves into a pleasurable burn and you are sure you’re experiencing the best of both worlds, floating in an in-between space midway to heaven from Earth. 

Ever since Cat found out your name, you’ve been living in fear. Every day, every night, you can feel the thrumming of anxiety running through your veins– sometimes stronger, like your heart is about to beat itself out of your throat, and sometimes weaker, more of a hum in the back of your ribs; but it’s always there. 

Except for now. 

Right now, you feel nothing. 

You are drowning in a world of silence, in a motionless state of being… 

…until Spencer snaps his hips at you again and you feel more than you’ve felt your entire life. 

You feel alive.

On fire. 

Burning. 

Like every nerve in your body has been ignited, like your brain is working overtime, like the air in your lugs have been punched out of your body. 

You feel so much that you can’t even begin to put into words. But you don’t have to speak, not when Spencer whispers those sweet nothings into your ear as if he’s not filthily moving his hips and driving himself so deep into you you basically see start. “So pretty, my angel,” He whines, mouthing at your neck. “So good for me, feels so good, pretty girl. So perfect.” In his words, promises lay unsaid. Promises of love, adoration, fondness. Promises of kindness, gentleness, safety. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. I promise.” 

Nodding, you let your nails drag down his back, the sounds of it all getting a bit too much for you to handle. Spencer’s hoarse voice, the slap of his skin on yours, the breathy moans he lets out; everything seems to be getting to you, and you hope this never ends. You hope to feel like this for the rest of your life, like you don’t have to have a single worry in life, because Spencer’s got you. 

“Spencer,” You cry out, pulling him for a sloppy kiss. You two are a mess of tongues and teeth and lips and the more he fills you up, the more he pushes into the you, the more you’re willing to fall, fall, fall… and you so you fall. “Oh! Spencer!” 

Your orgasm washes over you like a crashing wave, approaching fast and silently but crashing loudly once it hits shore. It’s a surprise to you and apparently to him too, from how he groans the loudest he has so far. You tense up for a second or two or three or maybe even an eternity, squeezing around him oh so perfectly, enough to make him falter, arms giving out and almost having his whole body crash onto you. In his own desperation to cum, Spencer speeds up in such a delicious way that it feels like you’re in a never ending downward spiral, pussy fluttering around him until he pushes into you one last time. “Y/N…” Spencer moaned, keeping himself quiet with how hard he bites your neck, tensing as he let his pleasure wash over him in jerky movements of his hips before completely stopping.

Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you, laying by your side looking completely spent with a lingering hand on your waist. Takes him a bit, but eventually, Spencer gathers enough strength to pull you to him, kissing your forehead lovingly. “You’re… everything,” He breathes out, eyes running over your face to commit it to memory, to engrave it in a type of forever that only he knows. His own forever. You are his very own forever.  “Is it too corny to say thank you?” 

You laugh and look up at him. “Depends,” Cuddling closer, you let your lips graze over his ear. “Are you thanking me for a job well done?”

“Hmmm,” His chuckle reverberates through you. “A job very well done, sweetheart, yes.” 

“Then no, it’s not corny,” You giggle, trowing a leg over his waist. “But as an academic, I don’t think your sample is large enough to be reaching any conclusions yet, doctor.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not concluding anything yet,” Spencer shivers a little at your teasing joke, eyes darkening in a way that is surely becoming familiar to your. His little smile is enough to have you pushing yourself closer to him, kissing his neck gently. “I am making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis.”

“And what’s your hypothesis here, doc?” 

Clearing his throat, Spencer lets out a breathy hum and tugs you on top of him, thighs on each side of his waist so he can run his hands up and down your beautiful skin. “I think I need a bit more… education first, if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Cocking your head to the side, you smile brightly at him. “And how will you embark in this search for knowledge?” 

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how, angel girl.” 

In ten minutes he was kissing you all over again, muttering your name like a mantra. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at Abigail again, cheeks blushing when you realise where your mind had just gone. “Yes? Sorry Abi, what did you say?” 

“We have a consumer, could you help me with the cashier system?” And when Abigail smiles, you’re back to your sour mood. Honestly, you feel for her– you feel like a massive bitch who hates on a girl for absolutely no reason, but considering everything that’s been happening, her enthusiasm sending you for a loop.

“Of course!” Doesn’t mean you won’t still try and be a good boss. This is, after all, a place of business. Walking to her, you guide your new store manager through everything she needs to know; the cashier system, the ordering and cataloguing inventory, the filing system on the shelves. Much to your dismay, Abigail is a quick learner and she’s eager to help, jumping into the action as soon as a client walks into the store. You’re quite grateful for that, now having time to actually focus on the administrative tasks you’ve been putting away for ages, and when the time comes to close the store, you look at her with the friendliest smile you can handle under the current exhaustion and soreness that took over your body overnight. “You did great,” You promise, locking the door behind you. “Honestly, I could already work that much better with you handling everything, thank you very much.” 

“It was my pleasure!” Abigail smiled. “Will I be given a key for the days you’re not coming in?” 

You didn’t think that far, but the thought made you shift a bit uncomfortably. Giving her entrance to the bookstore so freely means you’re giving her entrance to your apartment just upstairs. And besides Officer Kaper and the BAU team, no one knows where you live. The goal is to keep it that way. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it, for a while I intend on coming in every day to make sure your introduction to the store is smooth and seamless!”

“Sounds perfect!” When you finish locking the door, you turn around to find her waiting with an expectant expression. “I uh, I don’t mean to bother you boss, but how about some drinks to celebrate the first day? You can come over now that I’m fully decorated!”

The invite is kind, and as much as you really want to go home and kiss your boyfriend silly, you can’t. You can’t tell her no, not again and again and again, and to your surprise, and hers, you nod. “Yeah, why not? You deserve it. Should I stop at the store to buy anything?” 

Quickly shaking her head, Abigail starts guiding you both back to the building calling your name. At least she lived a total of one floor away from Spencer. “No, no, I have everything back home to make some mojitos.” 

“Then we’ll order some pizza,” You chuckle, following her inside and up the stairs. “On me!” 

“Deal!” 

Her apartment is strangely familiar. It looks a lot like Spencer’s, though you can’t help but miss the muted shade of green that adorn his walls, surrounded by a bright pit of white instead. Everything about her place screams single female; the neutral furniture, the romance books piling by the sides of the couch, the quirky decorations that bring some type of colour to the room, and the obvious excessive amount of throw pillows everywhere. “Sorry for the mess,” Abigail chuckles, closing the door behind you and immediately trying to organise the living room. But you see the charm in how it is, and you don’t really mind being in a house that looks like someone lives in. 

“Don’t worry about me,” You wave at her. “I like being in a house that feels like a home.” 

“Have you ever considered being a writer?” The question makes you laugh. “Sometimes you say some very poetic things and I swear they would sound great in a book.” 

“I’m happy selling other people’s books,” Is all you give her, shrugging at her suspicious glance. “So… Pizza?” 

You don’t want to admit it, but at one point, you start having fun. It’s right after the awkward talking time and just as the pizza arrives that you two start laughing together, giggling at crazy stories from her old jobs. For a moment, this feels right– feels like what a girl’s night should feel like, with the gossiping, the drinks, the greasy food, and the shitty romance movie playing in the background without you paying attention to it, besides a couple of comments on how Jude Law is so cute. “…And then he wrote his number on the receipt and gave it to me! The audacity!”

Abigail has just finished telling you the story of how she met her ex and you chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly, I lucked out with my customers. You’ll see that soon, but so far, everyone’s been incredible. I had some horror stories from the stores I worked at back in Manhattan, but thankfully they haven’t followed me here.” 

“Hmm,” Abigail is sitting in front of you, happily munching on her food while she squints at you. “Is that how you met Spencer Reid?”

You choke on a bite of crust and the way you have to wash it down with your mojito is ridiculous. The alcohol burns through your throat but at least you can breathe better. “Uh, Spence?”

“Yeah, Spencer Reid,” Abigail chuckles. “The neighbour upstairs. Your… something. Is he your boyfriend? You never really clarified.” 

Blushing, you nod. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” Saying those words out loud feels surreal, like you have suddenly added a seal of authentication to it all. “We’ve been– We are dating.” 

“Oh,” This is the least enthusiastic you’ve seen her all night, and something tickles your brain. Is she disappointed that you two are officially dating? Is she into Spencer?! “Good to know. Uh, did you meet him at the store?” 

“Yeah,” The mood quickly turns upside down and tension settles where laughter previously occupied. “We’ve been friends for a while, though, and I uh, I used to watch his apartment while he was out of town for work and he’d bring me books and–“

“Is he out of town a lot?” This. This is exactly why you always feel weird next to Abigail– her invasive questions. “For work, that is.” 

“I–“ What are you supposed to say to that? Yes. He travels regularly and I’m constantly vulnerable and alone at his apartment? Absolutely not. “I mean, sometimes, but he can take cases from home.” 

“Cases? What does he do again?” 

“Oh,” You need to change the subject right now. “Spencer, he uh, he works with–“ 

You are not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth, but you and Spencer had never discussed a story, a cover up; but then again, you two had never discussed being separated. A certain level of codependency has instilled thanks to the current situation, and it just makes sense to assume you’d always be together in social situations. 

“Because Officer Kaper also knows him, right? He said something back at the store, and I was curious.” 

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Abigail is the one who will kill you. Cat knows Spencer works for the BAU, why would her partner be kept in the dark? Logically, nothing about this makes sense, and you might be overthinking and overreacting, but telling her about Spencer’s private life still feels wrong. Dirty. Like you’re breaking his trust just with a couple of words. 

Gulping, you nod, looking around with a nervous chuckle. “He uh, he works in a governmental agency,” Taking a deep breath, you think of semantics, of words that mean the same thing but can be as vague and open-ended as possible. “Some team I forgot the name. You know how those things are, you can be as close as possible with someone and still not be able to tell what they do for a living.” 

Her laughter is enough to have you breathing easier. “Oh my god! I so know what you mean… but when you really like someone, I think you remember the little things you know. Or at least I do. I still remember that book you mentioned on our first interview–“ Shuffling to grab something behind her, she shows you the cover of the book you mentioned a while back. “I’m halfway through and it’s absolutely incredible!” 

Holding back the impetuous Spencer remembers everything that you so badly want to throw at her, you just chuckle. With every word Abigail speaks, it feels like she’s throwing a dig at either Spencer or your relationship with Spencer, and you’re not sure which one makes you angrier. “I’m glad you like it,” You say, and the buzz of your phone saves the day. It’s been buzzing for a bit, but you didn’t mind checking it much while you were having fun. Now that things have gone a tad south, you can’t wait to come up with an excuse to go home. “Sorry, let me just– oh… Abi, I’m sorry, but I think I need to go home.” 

3 missed calls. 8 new messages. All from Spencer. Quickly helping her clean everything, you smiled. If this is going to work, you need to put in as much effort as Abigail is. You need to stop being afraid. You need to be honest with her. You need to do a lot… but not tonight. Tonight you’ve done enough. 

“Thank you again for having me, this was actually fun,” You smile, giving her a quick hug before opening the door and stepping out onto the hallway. “We can go to work together tomorrow, if you want! Text me when you’re about to leave?”

“Oh!” That is enough to have her smiling wide. “Yes! Amazing, I will!” 

One last wave and you’re running up the stairs, unlocking Apartment 23 with the key Spence gave you. “I’m so sorry!” You call out as soon as you’re inside, bag and shoes dropped by the door as soon as you spot him sitting on his couch. “Spence, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I was hanging out with Abigail after work and she made mojitos and we got pizza and–“

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Getting up, he walks to you and cups your cheeks, eyes searching for… something… in yours. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay. Better now, but okay,” You mumble back, kissing his lips gently as a reassurance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was going to Abigail’s.” 

“You should’ve,” Spencer sighs, nodding with a small smile. “I was really worried… But then I called Garcia and she pulled the cameras, so I knew you were downstairs.” 

“Uh… Babe, I don’t know if that’s the best use of–“

“I don’t care, I was going out of my mind,” His arms squeeze you closer and he hides his face on your neck. “I know you can’t be here 24/7, and we talked about you going back to work, but… but let’s try and let each other know where we are more often? Just while this Cat thing is not solved, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree. Your lips press against his forehead lovingly. “Yeah, I’ll do better.” 

“Thank you, angel. Did you have fun?” 

“I did, for a while. But then Abigail started asking some… personal questions and I just– it sets me off, I don’t know why,” You are clearly frustrated with yourself, sighing and letting your body fall on the couch. In a beat, your arms open for him, inviting Spence to lay with you for a moment. “She asked where you work. I said a ‘governmental agency’ and I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide you from strangers, like she’s going to try and do something to you if she finds out details about your life.” 

When he lays down, you curl into him. “You’re protecting me, and that is really cute,” Spencer clarifies. “Maybe she’s just desperate for a friend, you know? I certainly have been there before, it can make you lose a bit of that common sense that should kick in and hold you back from putting your foot in your mouth, or any other idiot expression people use.” 

“Could be,” Truth be told, you don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. You don’t want to think about Abigail, you don’t want to think about Cat, you don’t want to think about anyone but Spencer. 

You want to bask in your silence. In you quietude. 

You want to feel normal again. 

This feels normal again. 

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you today.” 

Yeah… when he giggles; when he kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; when he mumbles excitedly about his day… it all feels normal. 

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

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[scarlettjemily]

Gonna tell my kids this was One Direction

[pillowprincess4logan]

" We're looking for a white male, approximately mid to late 30s, between 5"6 to 6"2 "

" wheels up in 30 "

[seonghwadyke]

[guiltyc0nscience]

elle greenaway and spencer reid:

[starchaser45]

Emily only allowing herself to cry when she's in Spencer's arms cause she's sure he's safe is my Roman Empire

[bobadiin]

last day of autism awareness month please be aware of him

[chithereader]

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder. 

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face. 

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

[rynbutt]

safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore. 

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly. 

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were. 

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom. 

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile. 

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand. 

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour. 

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos. 

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied. 

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around. 

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team. 

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh. 

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone. 

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat. 

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth. 

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again. 

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house. 

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard. 

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house. 

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car. 

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child. 

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this. 

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that. 

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers. 

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him. 

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator. 

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned. 

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression. 

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.” 

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway. 

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile. 

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!

[youbutstupid]

The youngest and the oldest on set being best friends is so adorable to me