#i love that she STILL does that. as an official fbi agent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sincerelybubbles · 8 months ago

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it's a date || spencer reid x reader

part 2

warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read

word count: 6.1k

You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention.

You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you.

You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.

“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight.

“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind.

You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”

Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain.

“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”

He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door.

“Just Gideon is fine.”

Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous.

“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.

“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape.

“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”

“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.

“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee.

You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”

You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”

“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”

“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”

You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.

“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”

When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply.

It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.

“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over.

“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”

You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide.

You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge.

Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.

“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove.

“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh.

“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.

“I’ll give her a call.”

He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor.

He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book.

“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”

He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.

You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.

“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”

“I would actually love –”

“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”

“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”

He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta.

Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart.

You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news.

Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?

You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.

||||

“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting.

You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident.

All FBI, if you had to wager a bet.

“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”

“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well.

“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”

“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face.

“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief.

“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”

“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest.

“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”

“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”

“Sorry?” You ask, startled.

“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”

“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression.

“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere.

“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile.

“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.

“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”

You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile.

“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are.

“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted.

“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him.

“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”

||||

Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space.

The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones.

“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically.

“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head.

“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”

You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”

“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name.

The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone.

Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait.

You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in.

“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks.

“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack.

“Making sandwiches!”

“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”

“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”

“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”

“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”

Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”

You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something.

“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder.

“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”

“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow.

“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”

You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”

||||

“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up.

“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains.

“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”

“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”

“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little.

You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one.

“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted.

“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread.

You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him.

The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it.

“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”

“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes.

“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him.

“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”

“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about.

You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere.

You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable.

“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”

“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away.

“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms.

“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”

“We have to.”

“It certainly works out better when you do.”

“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly.

“And you tried to transfer?”

“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.

“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”

“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”

“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”

“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”

||||

“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something.

“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers.

“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging.

“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering.

He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct.

“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”

You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”

“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back.

“Well, thank you?”

“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”

“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”

“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”

“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”

“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”

You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Elle says kindly.

Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored.

You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory.

As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught.

You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street.

Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food.

The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street.

You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs.

“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks.

“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer.

“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”

“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”

“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house.

“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head.

“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”

Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window.

“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology.

You wish he hadn’t.

Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again.

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle.

||||

You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts.

You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway.

Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side.

“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”

You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun.

“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks.

“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”

“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low.

“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”

For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”

The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms.

The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid.

“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy.

The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head.

“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket.

“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team.

After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway.

“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you.

“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”

“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away.

“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it.

“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”

“How so?”

You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile.

“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”

“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”

“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”

“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”

Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”

“I’m asking.”

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh

lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!

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sammyluvr · 2 months ago

Text

sweet smile — sam winchester

cw : fluff, gn!reader, detective!reader, transfem!sam, barely any dialogue, mentions of death/violence, not proofread, also definitely not my best writing but that's okay, no y/n, 1.9K words. requested !

summary : it's almost startling how quickly you develop a small crush on the most gorgeous fbi agent you've ever seen when she comes in to help solve your case.

on nearly any occasion, sam stays out of the local police stations during cases as much as she can. and usually, with her pantsuit and fake fbi badge, the police are as glad to see her go as she is to leave. but sitting next to you and your meticulously constructed evidence board, she doesn’t mind spending extra time here.

you’re the lead detective on this case, and sam finds you both sweet, cute, and clearly very intelligent. sam’s pretty sure that she and dean are dealing with a wraith this time around, but even without the knowledge of the supernatural, you’ve managed to compile an impressive amount of evidence and string it together in a way that actually makes sense. she thinks that this might be the first time that normal detective work might actually lead her and dean straight to the killer.

so, sam sent dean off to go check out one of the crime scenes while she stays here, listening intently as you carefully explain each and every detail of your evidence board. she can tell that you’ve gathered enough information to actually start seeking out suspects. of course, you’re still unable to fully explain the cause of death, but otherwise, sam can’t help but be highly impressed with your work.

not only does she get extra help in searching for official suspects—you’ve cleared her a spot on your desk across from your own seat and offered your help doing research—but she’s also blessed with the pleasant sight and sounds of you explaining everything to her. you’re rather endearing as you talk, and the blinds in the office are open wide, letting the mid-morning sunlight cast a bright line along your profile each time your head tilts to a certain angle.

she gives you a sweet smile when you're done explaining. any other day, with any other person, she’d give a kind, polite smile. there’s a difference. and, of course, you wouldn’t know that, but the smile sends your heart racing anyway.

“thank you, detective,” she says, sincere and unrushed. now that you’ve given her all the information that you have, she doesn’t need to stay any longer. but she wants to take you up on your offer. she wants to sit right across from you on your small desk and whatever excuse she can get to keep watching the way your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt or hear your impassioned voice as you do everything you can to be sure that the victim’s families receive closure and justice.

“of croup se,” you smile back, hoping that you at least look like your composure remains intact. internally, you’re undeniably freaking out about how absolutely gorgeous she is. “thank you for making the trip over to help us out with this case. i really can’t help but feel like we’re missing something big. this cause of death is driving me crazy.”

normally, you hate the feds. but she’s so pretty and sincere that you can’t do anything but love the fact that she’s here. and she smiles at you in the most lovely way that it makes your cheeks heat up.

“just doing our job,” she says. her smile isn’t quite as life-threatening this time—your heart only skips a beat or two—but she says those words like she’s less concerned about the job part than the part where she’s helping you out. from the way her partner acted early, it seems like they don’t really spend all that much time with the local police on cases. which means she’s staying longer than necessary, for one reason or another. and she says that she’s just doing her job when her job doesn’t require her to be here and looking at you like you’re the reason. it almost feels like she’s flirting. you might go into cardiac arrest if that’s the case.

you tell yourself that she’s too beautiful to be staying behind just for you. then she grabs the chair from you that you picked for her so that you don’t have to carry it any longer than necessary. and then when she sits across from you and her long legs keep brushing against yours in the cramped space, she looks up from her computer with a pretty, bashful smile and a sweet, murmured apology.

making eye contact with her is like that tiny, pleased, and slightly childish rush one gets when quickly running a finger through a candle’s flame. it’s simple, not some overwhelming surge of exhilarating adrenaline, but you find this to be just as effective in making you feel something for her. it’s softer, like the melting of wax and slight singe on a fingertip. it’s unwise to keep putting skin to flame, even for a split moment, but her gaze doesn’t burn, you just know it. it’s too kind and well-meaning, so you figure it isn’t fire, but something akin. some sort of warmth and light that couldn’t possibly do any harm. you’ll keep locking eyes with her because everything about her feels safe and pure.

her presence is a lovely contrast to the gore and death and confusion of this case. funny, she’s been thinking the same about you. neither of you are unused to violence or dead bodies, but a pretty face to ease the eyes never hurts.

it’s a bit hard to concentrate with her right there, but you make do. there’s enough motivation in being some sort of help to her.

the shadows cast by the open blinds shift as the sun rises to its noontime peak in the sky. it’s one p.m. before you know it, then you’re hungry and most definitely distracted by her pretty face.

you softly shut your laptop to subtly grab her attention, your gaze already waiting for hers when she looks up. your lips quirk up into a light smile, tired of frowning at police records and endless files and reports. there must be something in the air today, because the moment you have her attention, you rest your chin on your palm and manage not to break eye contact as you speak.

“i’m hungry,” you say simply, “we should catch lunch and a break.”

sam feels guilty. you look at her with this soft sort of hope, as if it would make a difference in your day to spend more time with her. there’s not really any expectation along with that hope and sweetness, like even just being friendly with each other while she’s in town is perfectly nice enough for you.

but sam knows that being around her any more than that could never be good for you. you’re looking to her for a sense of reprieve within all this death and stress of the case. she understands; she’d love to have lunch with you, preferably somewhere outside the precinct so that it can feel a little more personal. it’s just that she’s convinced that she most certainly isn’t any sort of real respite. sure, she smiles at you when she thinks you’re being cute, but her presence here represents a worse, more violent, and darker truth about your case, about the world that she hopes you never come to know of.

and yet, the look in your eyes is enough to persuade her that lunch can’t do any harm.

“that sounds like a good idea,” she smiles. she should be allowed to push down that constant guilt every once and a while, right? she hopes you suggest eating somewhere else.

you have to keep your smile from growing too wide. you hope it’s not too much to suggest eating somewhere else. “there’s a great cafe down the street, as long as you’re okay with the city’s best sandwiches.”

sam thinks it’s quite adorable the way that you come across shy and forward all at once. you look bashful while you speak, but are playful and simple without stumbling over your words. it gives her confidence, lets her wonder if flirting with you would make your cheeks heat up.

“i definitely won’t say no to the city’s best sandwiches with the city’s best detective,” she says, closing her own laptop. it was a bit of a fight to maintain eye contact throughout the whole line; her felt confidence doesn’t really remedy her inherent awkwardness. but she made it through her little quip and indeed, she’s pretty sure that she’s succeeded in making you a bit flustered.

“you flatter me,” you refute after a moment, trying to sound cool, but laughing awkwardly. if you weren’t lost in her damn gorgeous eyes, you’d cringe at yourself. she just finds it endearing.

“i’m serious,” she says, and the way her voice turns all sincere proves just that, “you’ve done some really great detective work. half the time when we show up, the police have almost nothing to go off of. usually it’s not their fault, but most places i’ve seen would have been about ten times more clueless than you are.”

heat rises up your neck, but you can’t help but feel proud to hear it. she sounds far too sincere to just be flirting. “thank you,” you murmur, smiling softly.

she pulls on the brown knee-length overcoat that she wore when she first came in, and you’d probably start drooling over how good she looks in it if you stared a second longer. so you pull on your own jacket and walk into the crisp november air with her.

the walk is short, just across the street and a few businesses down to the right. even so, you think you’d like to keep walking with her, maybe do this sometime again. it feels like wishful thinking, but maybe you’ll have another chance before she goes. it’s startlingly easy to imagine holding her hand or sharing an umbrella or fixing her scarf. she’s not even wearing one, but you know she’d look all soft and cozy if she did.

in the cafe, she orders a coffee that sounds nice and a simple caprese sandwich. tomatoes aren’t really any good at this time of year, but when her eyes skim the menu, they skip over the options with meats and you wonder if she’s vegetarian or if she just prefers not to eat deli meats.

when you sit, you call her agent, and she says to just call her sam. it rolls off your tongue so nicely, makes your cheeks feel a little warm. you insist that, if that’s the case, she’d better call you by your first name as well. when she does, you nearly choke on your hot drink. if you weren’t aware of this little workplace crush on her, you’d think you’re beginning to develop a fever.

sitting and talking with her, sharing looks out the window to people watch or sharing looks to secretly think of how pretty the other is, and wasting time to avoid going back is all soft and sweet with her. considering your nerves, it’s much easier than expected, too.

unfortunately, you can’t dawdle forever. she walks back with you, but doesn’t sit. instead, she gathers her things and tells you with a regretful smile that she has to meet back up with her partner to continue on their end of the investigation. you don’t show it too much, smiling back and nodding in understanding, but you’re certainly sad to see her go.

maybe she’ll be back.

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lowaltitude · 2 years ago

Text

Oblivious | Spencer Reid

- Criminal Minds - x Reader, Rossi’s daughter. (Y/N Baker-Rossi)

❪ FEM! ❫ ❪ adult aroace virgin attempts to write smut Altitude

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Spencer Reid x AFAB+FEM!reader, in which SSA Dr Spencer Reid is dating his coworker. OR in which SSA David Rossi’s daughter is has been sneaking around with the smartest man in the FBI for months.

𖥻 established relationships. Not directly connected to Criminal Minds series timeline but an estimated place in the timeline around season 5. 8.2k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

───── ❝ backstory ❞ ─────

Carolyn Baker-Rossi, first wife of SSA David Rossi. After the loss of their son James, the couple began to drift apart and eventually filed for divorce after a case made him miss their anniversary in 1983 and he came home in time to see Carolyn packing his things. A few months later, and with no complications, a daughter was born. Y/N Baker-Rossi.

Y/N was always a gifted student, deciding when she was 7 that she wanted to “catch the boogie monsters that daddy does” and following through. Eventually, a few book releases and divorces later, Rossi’s 22 year old daughter completed her degree, resulting Rossi using his connections to get her allowed into the BAU as a liaison.

Y/N was spending 85% of her time at the BAU following around Penelope Garcia, 10% getting everyone coffee, and the other 5% staring at Dr Spencer Reid. The boy genius who joined the BAU 2 years prior as a Supervisory Special Agent.

2 years passed and Y/N— Agent Baker, affectionately nicknamed ‘Cupcake’ by Derek Morgan— was promoted, officially joining the team. And although she loved him, she refused to use her father’s last name while at work.

───── ❝ Oblivious ❞ ─────

Rossi‘s chair scraped along the floor as he pulled it out, and I groaned. Morgan called and woke me up at 6am, how much more murdering could happen if we waited just 1 more hour?

I wasn’t angry, but It was my first official case. I was no longer a liaison I was an SSA. My seat at the table meant something, but I didn’t expect them to drag me into work while it was still dark outside.

“Wheels up in 30” Hotch said, ending the briefing and giving us time to get what we needed from our desks.

Spencer was sat across from me like always, his hair messy and shirt collar a little messed up, and he pushed his chair out from the table before getting up.

I walked behind him as he went to his desk, and I went to mine. “Rough night?” I yawned.

“No, no. I’m fine.” Reid put his bag over his shoulder, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand.

I hummed in response and walked up to him, noticing that he tensed up as I got close to him. I put my hands on his collar, fixing it and his tie as he just watched me with his lips slightly parted.

“Uh, New collared shirts often come with stiff collars; however, after a number of washes and wears, the material that keep the collar stiff begins to soften, causing the shirt collar to lose its shape.” I nodded, enjoying the seemingly pointless information that he would often share. Everyone had left, the space around us now empty. “This leads to shirt collars curling and folding.”

When I was done, I went to step back and gave him some space, but Reid put a hand on my waist stopping me.

“Are you aware of how hard it is to avoid touching you while we’re at work?”

“You’re touching me now”

“But i’m stopping myself from… More”

“Nobody’s around” I kept my voice no more than a whisper, putting my hand on Reid’s chest and pushing myself up to reach him.

“Ready to go, Cupcake?” Morgan entered, back over his shoulder and eyes down as he looked at his phone. Reid and I jumped away from each other before Morgan had the chance to look up and tuck his phone in his back pocket. “Kid?”

Both of us nodded and he turned towards the doors, Reid following a few steps behind him. I slung my bag over my shoulder, jogging to catch up.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“How was your first case?” Garcia asked, rushing towards me with an open container of cookies in her hands as we entered the BAU. Returning from the long trip to Florida.

“I might be a little traumatised but that’s part of the job” I looked in the plastic container, happily taking one and almost melting at how good the warm cookie was.

Morgan patted my shoulder as he stopped beside me, swiftly taking a cookie and earning a shocked gasp from Garcia.

“Those are not for you”

“Thanks, baby girl” He smiled. “You look like you need a drink after that.”

“I do, I really do” I sighed wiping the cookie crumbs on my pants. “Garcia?”

She nodded enthusiastically, putting the lid on the container. “Yes.”

“Drinks?” Morgan asked the other members of the team, clapping his hands together. He earned a few responses as the team packed the extra things from their desks.

The team conversed as they left the building, leaving Garcia, my dad and I a little behind.

“You did real good, kid. Make sure you call your mum later”

“Got it.” I nodded, watching him hurry to catch up with Hotch.

“So…” Garcia started.

I shook my head at her. “Don’t” Garcia and I had spent so much time together over the past few years that she was practically my sister at this point.

She claimed knew about my crush on Reid before I did, noting that ‘22 year old Y/N came in to see her dad and immediately took notice of the 24 year old who’d just joined the team.’ But i’d managed to keep it from her that we had progressed our relationship.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

With my FBI visitor pass— Which honestly seemed like a bad idea in retrospect, I walked into the bullpen and was barely noticed. Agents passing by without so much as a quick glance in my direction.

I spotted my Dad in a glass office, along with Hotch, and who I know knew was Garcia. He waved my direction, Hotch doing his best to smile at me before going back to their conversation.

Walking further into the room, I narrowly dodged someone with their head down looking at an open file as the walked and bumped into someone’s desk.

“Oh shit, i’m sorry” I muttered, the boy at his desk seemed barely older than I was.

“No, it’s perfectly fine. Young adults fall more frequently than expected, most falls even occur during everyday activities such walking and talking.” The boy looked up from the open book and papers scattered on his desk and It felt like I got slapped in the face by emotions that made no sense.

I couldn’t think of anything to say, I just forced my mouth closed so I could stop gawking at him. “Totally”

“Uh…” He stared at me for a second before quickly blinking a few times. “Each— Each year slips, trips and falls cause thousands of preventable injuries. In most cases, people trip on low obstacles that are hard to spot.”

I laughed, not really understanding what the boy was rambling about. Just nodding and smiling like a fool.

“Y/N” Hotch called my name, I turned to face the 2 men and the blonde. “Hey, I see you’ve met our newest SSA.”

“You’re an agent? I wouldn’t have guessed” I gave the boy another once over.

“Boy genius.” Rossi sighed “IQ of 180, photographic memory—”

“187, actually, and I have an eidetic memory. Eidetic memory refers to the ability to retain visual information with extreme precision while in contrast, photographic memory refers to the ability to remember everything in a scene, not just the visual elements.” The boy pushed his chair back from his desk, playing with the pen in his hand.

Woah.

Hotch cleared his throat. “Y/N Baker-Rossi, this is our technical analyst Penelope Garcia , and doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Baker-Rossi? As in, you, Rossi?” Garcia’s eyes widened, looking between us quickly.

“Yes.” I laughed. “From his first marriage.”

“Wow, I didn’t even know you had spawn. It’s great to meet you”

Rossi put his hand on my shoulder, taking my bag from my hands. “She’s actually here to see you, Garcia.”

“Me?”

“Y/N just completed her advanced degree in behavioral science, and while her application is pending I got permission for her to be a temporary liaison, somewhat of an assistant for you”

“Oh, assistant wow. Yes, yes. Come my child, I will be your seeing eye dog for the BAU.” Penelope linked my arm, taking the bag from my fathers hands and wishing me away. Hotch and Rossi already making their way back to the office.

I was flabbergasted to say the least, looking around as Garcia began to explain her position here. I looked back at the boy sitting at his desk and smiled. “Uh, bye Spencer”

“Yeah— Yeah, bye Y/N.” He spun his chair, watching Garcia and I as we disappeared down the hall.

When he was gone from sight, I took a deep breath. Spencer Reid.

When he spoke there was something eerily calming and familiar about him. Something in the pit of my stomach told me that this guy was special. Special in different way than being a young genius working for the FBI.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we entered the bar and found somewhere to sit, JJ and I sat beside each other so she could show me pictures of her son, Henry, on her phone. Spencer at the other end of the table across from Garcia.

I finished my drink and sighed, moving away from the table taking my glass with me to the bar. Rossi passing me his empty glass with a smile as he engaged in conversation with Morgan.

“Hey” I tiredly smiled at the bartender “Can I just get another Vodka and Coke, and 3 fingers of Whiskey please.”

The bartender got to work on the drinks and I found ed my attention on my shoes.

“Y/N?” I looked up at the person calling my name. “Oh my god, it is you.” I stared at the man in utter confusion as he walked up to me, leaving his friends chatting at their table behind him. “George. We went to High School together.”

“Whoa, George Maddison?” It finally clicked, he chuckled, nodding that it was in fact him. He was a handsome sight but in my memory I can still see him wearing his Harry Potter-esque glasses in his brown coat and black beanie.

“You look amazing. And I heard you work for the FBI now, isn’t that what your dad did?”

“Thank you, I really don’t feel amazing right now so it’s much appreciated.” I laughed, thanking the bartender as he put the drinks on the counter for me. “My dad actually still works for the BAU, he’s right over there. The team is just celebrating my first case.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Spence” Garcia whispered, the boy practically grunting in response. “You’re going to burn a hole in the back of her head if you don’t stop staring.”

“I’m not staring” Reid snapped his attention to Garcia, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention from the other agents. He was staring, and he knew it. But of course he was there was someone else talking to Y/N, and he knew that when men go to a bar, they are typically looking for a good time, to catch a buzz, to let off steam, and maybe find someone to take home for a one night stand.

Garcia hummed, finishing the rest of her cocktail and pushing the glass towards Reid. “Here. Get me another, there’s your excuse to go interrupt.”

“Why would I interrupt, I’m sure Y/N is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She’s a highly trained federal agent and although studies suggest drink spiking may be more widespread than previously believed, on average—”

Garcia wasn’t listening, instead looking across the crowded bar at the tall blonde making Y/N smile. “He’s like Derek Morgan levels of hotness.” She muttered, Reid immediately shutting his mouth.

After a moment of silent contemplation, the 26 year old took Garcia’s empty glass and walked to the bar. Swallowing the lump in his throat and leaving Garcia smiling to herself as she thought about adding ‘Matchmaker’ to her resume.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Another one of… Whatever this is” I heard Spencer’s voice behind me and turned my head to look at him.

“Hey” I smiled, my heart almost skipping a beat at the sight of my coworker.

Reid licked his lips quickly before smiling back at me. “Hey, sorry to interrupt.”

“Not a problem”

“Hi” George stuck his hand out for the lanky brunette to shake. “I’m George”

Spencer ignored his offer and instead chose to just nod at him in acknowledgment. “SSA, Dr Spencer Reid. Do— Do you two know each other?”

“Yeah, High School. We even dated for a while.”

“I wouldn’t really call going to the mall and a few kisses during spin the bottle ‘dating’.” I awkwardly laughed, swirling the straw around in my drink.

“Dating is a term coined in America to signify that stage of romantic relationships in which two individuals engage in an activity together, most often with the intention of evaluating each other's suitability as a partner in a future intimate relationship. Most couples go on 5 to 6 dates before discussing a relationship, and some take even longer.”

George momentarily seemed frozen, letting Reid’s words sink in. “See! We were dating, and I guess technically we never broke up. Thanks dude.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, dude”

I laughed at how unnatural it seemed for Spencer to say ‘dude’. My smile even beginning to hurt my cheeks. He turned to the bartender, taking the drink they had just put down and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What the hell are you drinking?”

“This is Garcia’s actually, she wanted me to come get it for her.”

“Oh” He didn’t want to come be my knight in shining armour, rescuing me from the mystery man that could swoop me away from him.

“What is taking the two of you so long?” Rossi asked, reaching past me to grab his drink from the bar. “You’re young, aren’t you meant to be fast? Don’t answer that Reid it wasn’t a real question”

Spencer shut his mouth quickly. Rossi sipping his drink and noticing George standing with a smile on his face.

“Mr Rossi” He put his hand out to shake again. “How are you?”

“Have we met?”

“No” I answered, I didn’t want to hear another remark about us ‘technically’ never having broken up. “We did a play together in High School but, you were on a case.”

“I’m sure you want to get back to celebrating, but i’d really like to see you again Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow at the blonde “You would?”

“Really?” Rossi and Reid said almost simultaneously.

“Definitely. Can I have your number?”

“Uh” I thought for a minute, I didn’t want to give some guy at a bar my number and lead him on in front of my boyfriend. But on the other hand my dad was standing right there. “This job doesn’t give me a lot of time to myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll work something out” Rossi smiled, gesturing for me to put my number into his contacts. Reid’s eyes widened and for self preservation he turned and went back to the table.

“Okay.” I forced a smile, keying in my number and passing the phone back him.

George left, my dad and I waving as I went back to the table and I took my seat beside JJ again. Sipping my drink and raising an eyebrow at the stares I was receiving. “What?”

“Who was that?” Emily asked, a slightly suggestive look on her face.

“Just someone from high school.”

Rossi hummed, looking over to where George was laughing with his friends

“He’s cute” JJ commented

“Yeah.” Reid said, catching my attention. “Dude seems great”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We were lucky to have 2 days off before being sent on our next case, Reid and I sitting beside one another on the plane and enjoying what little intimacy we could have on the trip; Our arms touching on the arm rest.

The jet ride consisted of Rossi making popcorn, me and Morgan trying to sleep, Garcia calling us with more information and everyone doing their own thing.

As we left the airport terminal, Reid walked a few steps ahead of me, and I watched as the wind blew his hair into his face. The boy stopping and looking at me when my phone started to ring.

“Hello…?” I said cautiously

“Hey! Y/N, it’s George”

“Oh, hi. I didn’t actually expect you to call this soon, isn’t there some men’s unspoken rule to wait 3 days?”

“I’m just really excited to talk to you I guess.”

“I actually can’t talk, we just landed in North Carolina for a case.”

“Already? Wow, serial killers work fast.” He laughed on the other end of the line. “I’ll call you back some other time then”

My phone beeped and I took a second to look at it before putting the cell back to my ear “That would be great. I have to go, work call.” I hung up, not hearing whatever he tried to say before I cut him off and answering the other call. “Garcia?”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Hotch had split us up for the case, him, Prentiss and Rossi at the latest crime scene. JJ and Morgan at the house interviewing the family. Leaving Reid and I at the police precinct trying to find the MO, and looking for potential UnSubs.

Reid and I were professional, apart from lingering when our hands touched and the occasional longing stare. But we made it through the case without a hitch, and as soon as Morgan called to tell us they’d caught the guy we began to pack our things.

“I think it was pretty, uh, pretty hot how you worked out that the UnSub was taunting the victims.”

I scoffed, putting the photos from the whiteboard into a manila folder. “Replicating murders from famous movies isn’t that difficult to realise”

“There’s a number of generally agreed elements comprising popular culture. These aspects are often subject to rapid change, due to omnipresent media. It encompasses the most immediate and contemporary aspects of our lives.” He paused for a second to breathe and I leaned against the table to look at him. “Considering my circumvention for most aspects of modern technology or media, I show a fair amount animosity against popular culture, the likelihood that I would have figured that MO is only about 3%”

“I’m taking this as I need to educate you on horror movies”

“I’m well educated on classic horror films. In fact, I think my favourite would be Anita. The 1920 Austrian film that depicts a societal lady trapped under the spell of an unskilled hypnotist.”

“Have you ever watched anything that wasn’t a foreign black and white silent film?”

The door to the precinct briefing room opened before Reid could respond. The team walking in, exhausted from working without a moments peace.

Hotch put his phone down on the table. “Unfortunately theres thunderstorms coming in and we won’t be able to get a flight out until some time tomorrow. Garcia’s booked us into a hotel in the meantime, we can all hopefully get a good nights rest”

“I doubt that.” Emily said, a disgusted look on her face as she pushed the picture from one of the crime scenes across the table away from her. “This one was some real nightmare fuel.”

The photo made my stomach turn as well, a recreation of a scene from 1976 film The Omen. The victims face sewn into a Joker-esque smile and hung from the room of her house.

I quickly put the photo in the envelope and closed it so i’d never have to see it again.

“That gives you some time to call George.” Rossi smiled, helping pack up what was left scattered across the table.

“Dad” I groaned, earning a puzzled look from the officers nearby. Morgan and JJ chuckled at my annoyance I shot them both a glare.

“Reid, tell her she should be putting herself out there. I want grandkids eventually”

Spencer choked on air, his eyes wide as he tried to stop coughing and everyone looked at him in concern.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked, Reid nodding and putting his hand up to stop anyone from helping him.

“Um” He finally caught his breath. “Single men are far more likely than single women to be looking for a relationship or dates – around 61% compared to 38%. While looking both men and women report equal levels of dissatisfaction with their dating lives and the ease of finding people to date, women are more likely to say they have had some particularly negative experiences.“

Rossi stared at him for a moment, dissatisfied with his response. “Don’t listen to him. Call the boy.”

I rolled my eyes and Rossi picked up the case files, heading out of the precinct with the rest of the team and leaving Reid and I behind.

“That was… Uncomfortable” I laughed, combing a hand through my hair and picking up my bag.

“I was actually thinking how we could possibly utilise this whole George situation.”

“Yeah?”

Reid put his hands either side of me, pinning me against the table and putting his face a few inches away from mine. “You can tell Rossi you’re going out with him and then we’ll actually be able to spend some time together”

“And after a few ‘dates’ with George, or multiple nights where I don’t come home, how do you suppose he’ll react if I don’t start bringing George around as my boyfriend?”

“Just a few dates, not enough to be considered a relationship but enough so he’ll believe you’re trying.”

I hummed in response, my lips just about to press against Reid’s— The feeling i’d craved for the past 3 days that we’d been running around on this case—

“Agents?” One of the local officers stood in the doorway, Reid taking a large step back with his bright red face. “Sorry to interrupt, but Agent Hotchner is waiting outside.”

Clearing my throat and smiling, I moved off the table. “Thanks.”

She smiled briefly, taking one step away before turning back. “You two are a really cute couple.”

Reid put his bag on his shoulder, looking down to try and hide the smile on his face. “Thank you.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Completely exhausted from the case, I didn’t even bother to change once I’d walked into my hotel room. Instead just collapsed face first on the the plush bed, the TV on at a low volume and the heavy rainfall outside lulling me to sleep.

Of course, as my mind finally went blank and eyes fluttered shut, a knock came at my door and I had to force myself up.

“Reid?” I muttered, the boy standing in the hall rocking back and forth on his heels. And nodding at me as I opened the door, eh just stepped inside and closed it behind him.

“I need you”

“Couldn’t it wait? I’m so tired.” He titled his head slightly to the side, a tuft of hair sliding down his forehead and breaking me. “Fine, what is it? Chemistry? Math? Missing sock?”

“No, no.”

“Then what?”

“I need you.”

I sighed, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. “Spencer”

“Don’t say my name like that if you’re going to say no and send me away” His voice was so soft, breathy and faint. It set goosebumps up my arms.

Hotch’s room was beside mine, at least when Spencer snuck into my bedroom he had no chance of running in to Rossi since it was on the entirety opposite side of the house. I reached for the door handle, intent on sending Reid away, it wasn’t worth the risk even if I really wanted him right now too.

My arm brushed against his warm skin and I looked up at him, eyes locking on one other and drowning out everything around me.

I find life seldom follows the plans you've made.

Turning the lock on the door, Spencer waited for the click before hisface coming close to mine, sleepy eyes closing, medicine-sweet lips puckering up, and all the other sounds of the world going silent— The thunderstorm, whatever had been running on the television, the sound the rain made on the small balcony as it made a small puddle— all silent, as Spencer’s lips finally met mine and I couldn’t get enough of him.

I was tired and sore but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted him, all the time. His weight on top of me. I wanted feel his warm breath on my skin. I wanted his sweat to drop onto me.

Reid took a step forward, his hands sliding down my body and stopping at my hips, cold fingers sitting on the exposed skin where my shirt had ridden up. Our breathing became heavy, more desperate as we gave in to our urges.

He took another step, forcing me to take one backwards and kept doing so until I felt the hotel bed mattress behind me. I slid my hand down his chest, Reid groaning as I reached his waistband, hurriedly unbuckling his belt. I grabbed the zipper of his fly and he pulled away from me.

“You’re going to have to be really quiet” He had a painful expression on his face, eyes shifting between my lips and eyes as if it truly hurt him to pull away from me. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I can be quiet.”

He didn’t waste another second, letting me fall back on the mattress so he could hover over me. Soft open mouth kisses along my kneel as he carefully undid the buttons on my shirt and I tugged at his zipper.

He shifted his weight, using one hand to hold himself up as he dug though his back pocket. Putting the shiny plastic wrapper in his teeth before pushing his jeans the rest of the way down before moving to undo mine.

I take the wrapper from Reid. allow him to take his own shirt off as I open it, watching as he rushes to get back to smothering me in kisses.

My hand touches his chest and begins to fall in excruciating slow designs, the boy almost whining against my lips.

Gripping a pillow in my fists as he breathes against me, hot air down my exposed him.

Reid flips, me now straddling him and allowing me to playfully tug at the ends of his hair.

My phone vibrated on the bedside table, Reid groaning in frustration and pulling away from me.

“Ignore it” I muttered, using my index finger to turn his face so he was looking at me again. The phone stopped and he smiled into the kiss until the phone started again. He pulled away. Making me the one to whine this time.

“Hello?” He said into the phone “She’s busy.”

He hung up, putting the phone back on the bedside table and gripping his hands on my thighs to pull me closer to him. Skin to skin.

I moaned and Reid laughed, moving to place a kiss under my ear and whisper. “Quiet, remember?”

I wanted nothing more in that moment than to be with him. Feeling I was about to crumble like sand as the bed creaks beneath us.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We all arranged to meet in the lobby, Emily and I were talking, entertaining the possibility of a ‘girls night out’ soon.

JJ walked back towards us with coffee cups in her hands, offering us each one. “Where the hell is Reid?”

“Maybe we should send someone to check on him.” Morgan walked towards the elevato, pressing the button and the doors opening instantaneously.

“Hey” Reid greeted. “Ready to go?”

“What took you so long?” Rossi asked

“I didn’t get a very good nights rest.” He walked off the elevator, heading towards the exit. “Poor sleep habits often include an irregular schedule, more than 90 percent of law enforcement officers report being routinely fatigued.”

Reid and I were in seperate cars, unintentionally splitting into women in one and men in the other. I spent the entire drive wondering what they were talking about.

“You alright, Baker?” Emily asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror

“Yeah, i’m fine.” She raised an eyebrow and I sighed. Working with profilers sucks. “I’m just trying to work out why my dad is suddenly so pushy about me dating someone.”

“Maybe he knows you have a crush on Reid.” JJ shrugged

“JENNIFER!” Emily gasped

“You guys think I have a crush on Reid? Did you hit your head or something?”

Prentiss sighed, parking the black SUV “We may have realised a long time ago. It’s not a very kept secret. I think everyone except Reid knows.”

“I’m pretty sure Morgan and Hotch are oblivious too.“ JJ laughed. Climbing out of the car.

We boarded the jet, JJ and Prentiss sharing a knowing look as I took my seat next to Spencer.

“Shut up” I mouthed, the pair of them shaking their head as Reid gave me a confused look.

As the jet started to take off, I listened to everyone’s conversations, checking my phone when it beeped to a new message from Garcia. I looked up through my eyelashes, Prentiss and JJ both looking at their phones and telling me we all just got the message.

Girls Night. Please. Tuesday. - P.G

Emily put her phone down first, mine and JJ’s buzzing again and Hotch noticing. “Are you three messaging each other?”

“Maybe” JJ smiled, putting her phone down after pressing send.

Morgan raised his eyebrow as mine and Emily’s phones buzzed again. “What are you talking about?”

Yes. We need to talk about Y/N and Reid. - E.P

Tuesday’s perfect, and I agree we need to talk about it. Code name: Romeo and Juliette. - J.J

“It’s girl talk, Morgan. And no matter how smooth you are, it’s just not for you.” I sighed, clicking send and making a point to turn my phone off.

“Come on, Cupcake, don’t do me like that.”

There’s nothing to talk about! … but I prefer Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy actually. - /.BR

We had small conversations until we landed, all heading to put away files and clean up our things before heading home.

“So?” Garcia smiled, taking a seat in my desk chair “Anything happen this time?”

“It’s a work trip, G.”

“But Em and JJ know now, so something must have happened!”

“They just worked it out, profilers notice everything.” Apart from that we’d been in an exclusive relationship for a while now.

“You two are totally smitten, just ask Reid on a date. Rossi doesn’t have to know, I can keep a secret. Swear.”

I looked at Reid talking to Morgan across the room, nobody else knowing about the purple marks hidden just beneath his collar.

“See!” Garcia signed “You’re even blushing just looking at him.”

“Nothings going to happen between us.”

“Ready to go home?” Rossi smiled as he walked up to Garcia and I, oblivious to the conversation he had just interrupted. I nodded and he adjusted his bag strap. “Did you call, George?”

Garcia’s eyes snapped to look at my face. I had to focus on how I would answer, he’d know if I was panicked or lying.

“Yeah he called last night.” Truthfully he did, it’s just I didn’t answer, Reid did.

“And?” Penelope urged

I shrugged. “I’m very busy.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Girls Night Out. Usually we’d be out at a bar getting insanely drunk, but the night started at JJ’s house waiting for Will to come home.

“He’s asleep” She sighed, returning in the 3rd outfit she’d tried on since Henry had decided to throw up on her 1st dress and pee on the 2nd.

“Finally. Now we can discuss.” Garcia smiled, shifting in her spot on the sofa to look at me on the armchair. “Go on, Y/N.”

I laughed, having hoped they would have forgotten this topic over our luxurious 3 days off of work. “Discuss what?”

“Tell them how long you’ve been in love with Reid.”

“I’ve never been in love with Reid!” I protested

“First day she arrived at the BAU, the both of them, practically drooling.”

“Really?” Emily smiled, looking at me with a glint in her eye.

“Hey, well don’t you all look pretty.” Will draped his coat over the back of the couch, everyone greeting him and standing ready to leave.

“Henry‘s asleep, we’ll hopefully only be out for a few hours.” JJ kissed her partner and he gave her a warm loving smile. Maybe I could tell them about Reid and I, but we had a very different situation to others.

Most people don’t work with both their boyfriend and father.

As we left JJ’s the topic shifted and I was immediately relieved, enjoying listening to everyone’s funny anecdotes much more.

The bar we went to was busy, full of people out celebrating. Any time my glass was empty, a new one seemed to appear in front of me until I was viewing everything in a slight haze.

“I think we should go!” JJ announced loudly, pushing herself up from the table and knocking over Emily’s drink.

“At least it’s the weekend” Garcia groaned, picking up her back and adjusting her glasses.

Emily snorted “It’s Tuesday”

“Oh god”

As we managed to make our way outside, JJ’s phone rang and I whined. “Please don’t tell me someone’s murdered again”

JJ answers the call “It’s Will”

“Will!” I cheered, flagging down a taxi for us. I told the man Garcia’s address first since her apartment building was the closest, and we drove off as soon as JJ was done on the phone telling Will we were all safe.

Emily, as the most sober. was in the front telling the driver addresses and making sure we all got to the door safely.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” Prentiss sighed, knocking on the front door as I attempted to find my keys at the bottom of my bag.

Rossi opened the door, pyjamas on and sleep in his eyes.

“Dad, what’s up?” I snapped my fingers, finding my keys. I wasn’t completely drunk but I was buzzed enough that I needed a babysitter.

Rossi looked at Emily as he let me inside “Thank you” Shutting the door behind me, he put his hands on my shoulders to guide me to my bedroom. “Don’t throw up on my carpet”

“I won’t” I groaned, pulling my jacket off and throwing it on the end of my bed with my bag. Rossi turned the light on in my bathroom, walking off and returning with a large glass of water and some snacks.

“Get some rest.” He said softly, pushing a loose strand of hair from my face.

After he was gone, I yawned and pulled my phone from my bag, keying in Reid’s number.

“Spencer” I coo’d when he answered, dragging his name out.

“How much did you drink?”

“Not enough.”

“It’s been stated that to reduce the risk of harm from alcohol-related disease or injury, a healthy limit is to have no more than 10 standard drinks a week and no more than 4 standard drinks on any one day.”

I stayed silent for a few seconds, mentally trying to count how many drinks i’d had. “Then I had way too many.” Reid chuckled on the other side. “Come over.”

“Alcohol primarily affects areas of the brain associated with behavior regulation, this impairment in judgment makes people much more prone to saying the they normally wouldn’t sober.”

“But I would invite you over sober”

“A sober brain helps weigh the good and bad consequences of any decision, therefore I know that it’s probably a bad idea.”

“I hate sleeping alone”

“I believe this is what Morgan’s called a, uh, a ‘booty call’. Human nature to be monogamous but humans quite frequently engage in short-term sexual relationships as well. Evolutionary psychologists resolve this paradox by proposing that men and women employ both long-term and short-term mating strategies, depending on the circumstances. It’s important to note that—”

“Spence. Please.” There was a long pause, a few rustles coming from his end. “Spencer?”

“Hold on, I’m putting my shoes on”

By the time I heard the knocking on my window, i’d already changed into an oversized FBI t-shirt and pair or shorts. I pulled the curtains open, smiling at Reid and letting him in. Much more sober than I had been when I got home.

“Hi”

“Hi” He smiled.

He took a seat on the edge of my bed, taking his shoes off and I looked over the outfit he had on. Plaid pyjama pants, a grey shirt.

He dropped his dirty old converse and stood, stepping towards me slowly and embracing me in a warm hug. I practically melted into his arms, Reid pushing the hair from my face so he could gently kiss my forehead.

“Prentiss and JJ think I have a crush on you and you’re oblivious” I muttered, feeling his chest rise and fall as he laughed.

Moving away from him, I laid on my bed and waited for him to join me. The bed dipped and I reached for the remote on my bedside table.

Spencer raised an eyebrow “Really?”

“You need a horror movie education, i’m thinking The Shining. Morgan and I were talking the other day about how it was a revolutionary film for its time since it explored horror conventions such as isolation, fear, mental illness, and duality—”

Reid cuts me off by rolling over so that he's laying on top of me, parting my legs with one hand. "I get jealous when you talk about Derek like that," he says in a low voice, surprised that he's admitting this to her. "It gives me the wrong idea."

I can already feel my heart beginning to beat faster. "You know he’s just a friend" she whispers, my mind going wild when he leans down, pulling the neckline of my shirt and kissing my collarbone.

"But he gets to call you nicknames, and I don’t" Reid whispers back and looks down at me again.

Before I can even think about her response the words, "But i’m all yours" spill from my lips and he smirks.

Our lips become one and Reid grinds his hips against mine, groaning as he does so. He keeps moving his hips, creating a friction that make my breathing shallow— makes me want more.

He pulls away, slipping the shirt over my head and kissing around my chest. "You know how crazy this all is?" He asks, hands reaching down for the button and zipper of his jeans as I nod. Our romantic situation was our secret but we knew it was crazy since we should have just told people from the start.

He stands so that he can pull his shirt off and motions for me to get up with a finger. "Can we try something?" he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling her down with him.

He positions me so that my crotch is on his thigh and places his hands on my hips. Spencer's eyes take every single inch of my body. Never once had I felt bad about myself when with him. Whispering in my ear what he hoped to do with me tonight.

Normally, the idea of dry humping someone to the point of orgasm would sound like a ridiculous and odd suggestion, but with Spencer it was different.

We kiss again and I nod, willing to do practically anything that he could ever want to do together.

Reid’s hold on my hips tightens as he presses me down on to his thigh and, slowly, he begins to rock me back and forth.

I try to think of how many other ways he could make each other feel. Not just physically.

Placing my hands on his shoulders as he begins to move me faster, and pressing his mouth to my neck.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Y/N” Rossi called out, wrapping his knuckles on the bedroom door. “Are you awake, Hotch said he tried to call.”

I shot up in bed, Reid still peacefully asleep beside me and I shook him awake. The boy blinked slowly, smiling at me like I was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

“Y/N?”

The smile disappeared and Reid threw the blanket off of him. Rushing around the room as quietly as possible to grab his clothes.

“One second dad” I picked Reid’s boxers off the floor, throwing them at him. He pulled them, and his pants, on as I opened the window for him to climb out.

Reid put his arms in his shirt, climbing out the window and pulling his head through the hole. He rushed away and I cautiously opened the door, pretending to rub my eyes. “Good morning”

Rossi smiled, cup of coffee in hand. “Your cell must be off, Hotch called asking you to come in.”

“I’m not meant to start until 12” I sighed, looking at the clock on my bedside. 9:30am.

“Better get moving” He brought his cup to his lips, turning and walking away as I closed the door and went to close the window.

“Hey” Reid reappeared outside, startling me.

“Jesus” I put my hand to my chest. “What are you still doing here?”

“I forgot something”

“You never forget anything”

Reid kissed me quickly, his lips warm and soft. “I love you”

He left before I had the chance to say anything back, leaving me dazed at the window for a minute until I managed to force myself to get dressed for the day.

Hotch smiled as he sat me, Garcia, Prentiss and JJ at the table. “Have a fun night last night?”

“The volume is up here” Garcia held her hand above her head, moving it down to the table height. “It needs to be here”

“You still have paperwork to fill out, need it done before the rest of the team gets here.”

Sitting at my desk, I mindlessly filled out the paper. Garcia got to sit in the quiet darkness of her office, meanwhile Prentiss, JJ and I were in the open bullpen. People walking buy constantly, and since JJ had the worst hangover she was constantly complaining I looked over my desk, groaning when I couldn’t find what I was looking for and picking up my phone.

“Hey, Rossi.” I sighed, rubbing my head with my thumb and forefinger. “I must have accidentally taken one of my files home last night, do you mind grabbing it from my room?”

I could practically feel the sarcasm radiating off of him through the phone. “Oh yes my darling daughter, your wish is my command.”

“See you when you get here.” I yawned, ending the call knowing he’d grab the file from my room for me. Spencer pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk across from me. “Good morning, Reid.”

“Morning, Baker.” He greeted, glancing around before leaning forward and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Coincidentally, I found myself walking home in my socks this morning.”

He nodded to his foot, poking his leg out from the desk and I held back a laugh. “You’ll have to collect them later.”

“I guess so”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Rossi put his phone and keys down, closing the front door again so he could go and grab what Y/N had forgotten.

He walked into her room, spotting the folder on her dresser and picking it up.

Feeling the cold breeze coming in through the open window and walking to close it, Rossi almost tripped in the sneakers by the window.

David Rossi picked up the shoes, intent on moving them to the shoe rack in the open closet but stopped. He’d seen these shoes before, but he knew what his daughter wore.

It hit him.

Rossi knew who these shoes belonged to. And he was angry.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We were waiting in the briefing room, all of us chatting at the table when Rossi walked in, smacking the file down in front of me. I looked up with a smile, about to thank him when I saw the look etched on his face.

A moment later, Reid looked up at me noticing the tension and then looking up at my dad.

Rossi ran his tongue along his teeth. “Why haven’t you called George?”

“We’ve been busy, but I’ll— I’ll do it” I tried to smile but the look on his face didn’t change, instead, taking his hand from behind his back and revealing none other than Reid’s shoes.

“Crap” Spencer whispered. Everyone silencing as they tried to understand what was happening now.

“Dave?” Hotch asked “You alright?”

“Spencer? Anything you want to say?” Rossi urged

I swallowed the lump in my throat “Dad”

Rossi slammed the shoes down on the desk “He’s messing around with my kid!”

“Technically, uh, I think ‘messing around’ implies that we’re frequently having unprotected sex” All eyes went to Reid, nobody knowing what to say exactly.

“Kid—” Morgan started

“Which We’re— We’re not.” Reid held his hands up in defence. “Well, we are, uh, active just not an impractical—”

“Spencer!” I shouted, trying to get the man to stop talking all together.

“—Amount. Once a week is a common baseline, although that statistic depends slightly on age: 40 to 50 year olds tend to fall around that baseline, while 20 to 30 year olds tend to average around twice a week.”

“Spencer!”

“Right.” The boy finally stopped talking. Everyone at the table was silent, eyes shifting between Spencer and I.

“Are you really mad?” I asked quietly, Rossi pulling out his seat and putting his head in his hands.

“No” He sighed. “Disappointed.”

“Why?” He’d already walked in here and slammed shoes on the table, making it everyone’s business. They’d find out eventually so we may as well have this conversation now.

“You kept it from me. I’m your father and you were sneaking around behind my back, don’t you trust me?”

“Can I say something?” Reid asked, Rossi pointing a finger at him.

“No.”

Spencer ignored this. “In our field everyone is at constant risk. We all know someone who’s been effected by our job, it was a lot safer for us to not tell anyone when we started dating. We actually discussed telling you around month 2 but it was—”

“How long has this been going on?”

“228 days” Everyone looked at Reid. “7 months”

“Rossi, it’s not that bad.” Hotch tired to make his friend see the bright side. “Albeit I didn’t know how far it had gone, I thought it was obvious they had some sort of attractive to one another”

Rossi looked at him with wide eyes. “You knew?”

“How did you not know? They always sit next to each other, long stares and awkward glances.” Morgan practically scoffed.

“Oh shut up, none of you really knew.” I laughed, feeling the mood change in the room.

Everyone laughed, agreeing and talking about how they only thought it was a meaningless crush that we’d never pursue.

“So” Rossi started once the laughter had died down, a small smile on his face. “7 months it’s serious? You’re not going to hurt my daughter?”

Spencer tensed. “No— No sir.”

“Good, because you know I have a gun and can use it.” Rossi leaned back in his chair. “Please just knocknext time you come to my house.”

“Oh my god you would not believe how big the bucket load of crazy in this case is I—” Garcia walked into the room, ready to present us with our new case when she stopped. “What did I miss?”

“Everyone knows that Y/N likes Reid.” Emily informed her. “And that Reid likes her.”

God it sounded so much like some school yard drama.

“Everyone? Oh… So what now?”

After Penelope was caught up, and celebrated that she was right— Noting “Penelope Garcia will always notice a blooming office romance. Always. Especially if it’s love at first sight.”— We were sent to pack for our case, Reid and I staying behind in the briefing room as he put his shoes on.

“No exactly how I wanted everything to go but I’m assuming it’s been accepted. We’ll have to fill out an Employee Relationship Management in HR.” Reid stood and I grinned up at him. “What?”

“I forgot something”

He looked at the table. “No, there’s nothing—” I cut him off by kissing him, waiting until he kissed me back before pulling away. “One more, one more.” Our lips met again, full of emotion. Gentle, loving and romantic. The perfect kiss.

“I love you, too” I whispered as I pulled back, Spencer staring at me in silence, slowly sliding his hands across my body to rest in the small of my back and resting his forehead against mine.

“Hey!” Rossi knocked on the glass. “None of that. Hands where I can see them Reid, you’re a smart boy you should know better.”

576 notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year ago

Text

A Taste of the Life

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: JJ gets a taste of the rich life when you take her on a dinner date on a yacht.

read part one here: There’s Beauty in Tragedy

Square Filled: jennifer jareau for @badbitchesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

JJ walks into work with a big smile on her face. She is so invested in her phone that she doesn't see who she almost ends up walking into.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Spencer asks.

“Oh, hey, Spence. No reason. I’m just having a good morning.”

“She was on the phone with her girlfriend,” Derek teases as he passes by with coffee in his hands.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” JJ says and slaps Derek’s arm lightly. All he does is laugh and sit at his desk. “She’s just a friend.”

“Then why is your face red?” Spencer asks innocently.

JJ touches her cheeks to find them really warm. That only causes her to blush even deeper.

“When are we gonna meet her?”

“I met her briefly while on her case, but JJ dealt with her the most,” Derek says.

“She’s a busy woman. Maybe later. You guys should really get back to work.”

JJ makes a quick escape while she can, leaving her friends to laugh and speculate about the status of her relationship. She doesn’t even know what you two are. You two flirted while on the case, you took her out for coffee afterward, and nothing happened. You two talk when you can, but you two went out on an official date. You never asked her to be your girlfriend. Still, that doesn’t mean JJ won’t smile every time your name pops up on her phone.

She gets to her office where there are piles of files waiting to be sorted through. Different police departments across the country send in their files for her to look over, and she picks the ones she feels her team needs to be involved with. The ones she rejects go back to their respective departments with a letter explaining why the FBI decided not to take on their case.

Some of the files she sees break her heart, especially ones with children involved. She has two kids with her ex-husband whom she loves dearly. She can’t fathom the idea of her children being in one of these files. She gets through five of them and decides to take a small break. She leans back in her desk and picks up her phone but there is no message from you.

“Agent Jareau?” someone knocks on her open door.

“Yeah, come in.”

“There is a package for you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and grabs it.

The only thing on the top is her name handwritten in beautiful cursive letters. She opens the box to see a velvet jewelry box and a note inside.

I thought of your eyes when I saw these. I couldn’t resist.

There is a lipstick print of a pair of lips on the corner of the page indicating whoever sent this is romantically linked to JJ. She doesn't have to see a name to know who sent this. She opens the small velvet box to reveal a set of bright blue sapphire earrings that dangle delicately. She gasps and picks one up carefully, scared she might drop it and break it. She’s never seen this kind of design before, so they must be super expensive.

Or they might be a one-of-a-kind. You do own a multi-billion dollar jewelry business.

JJ doesn't know what to say. She’s never grown up with money. The most expensive thing she can afford is a three-day cruise to New York and back. The most expensive thing she was gifted besides the earrings was a crystal wine glass set she got at her wedding. Being spoiled with such nice things is a bit overwhelming but she knows you’re doing it in a place of love.

She picks up her phone and calls you. You’re in Quantico at a business meeting that has just finished. You look at your phone and grin when you see JJ’s name and face.

“Did you like my present?” you answer.

“They’re beautiful. I wasn’t expecting them.”

“I know. They’re a prototype of something I’m designing. They’re one-of-a-kind. I might just keep it that way. That way you’ll be the only one to have them.”

“If only you could see me now,” JJ blushes.

“Listen, I’m glad you called. I’m going to be in town for the rest of the week. I want to take you out to dinner. I can pick you up tonight. If you’re not busy.”

“Yeah, I don’t have anything planned.”

“Great. Wear something nice. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Okay, see you then.” As soon as JJ hangs up, she rushes over to Penelope’s office where Pen and Emily are. “I need help.”

“Whoa, where’s the fire?”

“Y/N asked me out to dinner.” Pen and Emily start to squeal like school girls but JJ shuts them down. “No, I don’t have anything to wear. She wants me to wear something nice, and I highly doubt Hotch will let me take some time to go shopping.”

“Okay, don’t worry. I might have something,” Emily says. “The last case needed me to wear something nice but it was a little tight. You’re smaller than me so it might fit you. Come on.”

Emily, Pen, and JJ walk to Emily’s desk where her go bag is. Emily produces a slim, elegant, beautiful dress. It’s mint green that’s backless except for a few spaghetti straps crossing over each other. It’s very simple with no design but elegant and silky. It’s perfect for what you requested… JJ hopes.

“This is perfect. I hope she likes it.”

“Oh, she will,” Penelope grins.

Come the end of the day when everyone is packing up to go home, JJ is nervously waiting for you to pick her up. Everyone stays behind to meet the elusive billionaire, and you pull up to the building at six sharp. You chose six because this is when the sun is going down, and where you’re taking her needs to have a beautiful sunset.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to your driver and exit the sleek SUV. You walk inside the building, and the only thing that sounds is your heels on the glossy floor. You reach the third floor where the BAU is, and you pull open the glass doors. You’re greeted by four people who look eager for your arrival. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Jennifer Jareau?”

“She’s on her way down. I’m Emily. I’m one of her coworkers.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smile and shake her hand. The next hand you shake belongs to Derek, then Penelope, and finally Spencer. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.”

“I’m a huge fan of your work,” Penelope says. “My mother got me one of your necklaces as a present one year. Princess cut single diamond necklace.”

“Princess cut is always a favorite of my customers.”

“You better treat our girl right,” Derek says as a half-joke.

“Don’t worry, Derek. She’s in good hands. I promise to bring her back in one piece,” you chuckle.

Speaking of the devil, JJ walks down the short staircase from the second story to the first. She looks absolutely breathtaking in the mint green dress with the bright blue sapphire earrings. There’s nothing about her that doesn’t blow you away.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more beautiful,” you grin and kiss her cheek.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

“Okay, you two have fun. I expect a full report tomorrow,” Penelope smiles.

You escort JJ down to the car which catches her by surprise. It shouldn’t considering how wealthy you are, but it does. Once inside the car, the driver takes you to the port where there are loads of boats. The colors of the sunset bounce off the water. All shades of purple, pink, orange, and yellow make the water shimmer beautifully. The driver parks by the docks and gets out to open your doors. Waiting on the water is your private yacht with a personal chef, cleaner, and pilot.

“Wow, I can’t believe this,” JJ gasps.

“I had my yacht sail in when I knew I’d be coming here. We’re having dinner and taking a tour of the coast.”

JJ has no words so she decides not to say anything. You take her on board and that’s when the pilot takes off. The first course goes by quickly but you allow the next course to last as long as you can. The sunset makes JJ’s skin shine and shimmer and her blue eyes pop in the light contrast.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she chuckles.

“Only the best for the best. I can offer you all this and more if you want me to.”

You reach and scoop some food onto the fork and bring it to her lips. She moans when she tastes the delicious food the chef made. You set the fork down, pull her in, and press your lips to hers. This is the first time you’ve kissed her since meeting her but nothing feels out of place. Everything is as it should be at this moment.

“Stay the night with me,” you whisper.

“I think I can make that happen,” she giggles.

She kisses you this time as the boat slowly sails on the open water.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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bethnalgreen · 2 years ago

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The Preston and Child Books

Welcome to my corner of Tumblr, and my first-ever post. Sorry about the length!

Warning: Spoilers ahead.

I can't even remember when I first read "Relic," the first novel in what became the Pendergast series by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. It was probably sometime in the 1990s. I do have specific memories of reading "The Cabinet of Curiosities" in the summer of 2002. My sister and I had just moved to New York City, and I was working at Barnes & Noble. You could borrow any hardcover book from B&N to read as long as you put a protective book cover on it. I spent several late nights reading it in our sublet, scared half to death and definitely entertained.

For the next six years, I was a passionate fan of these books. I even managed to snag an audiobook version of "The Book of the Dead" before its official release date (not from B&N) because I was going to be on a plane that day and wanted desperately to read it ASAP.

It's hard to believe that's been almost 15 years ago. I'm still reading the P/C books, and looking forward to them, but I've found myself increasingly disappointed in them.

I don't want to just dump on them. I write for fun but have never finished a story, and I truly applaud the imagination and dedication evident in even the books I truly dislike. (And there have been a few. I give every P/C book a second chance, but it doesn't always make me like it more. The novels I love have been read at least half a dozen times.)

The sticking point for me in the last half-dozen books or so has been the character of Constance Greene (she's so special she can't just be a Green, she has to be a Greene.) She's like a female version of Agent Pendergast, minus the empathy, charm, and any other personality trait that makes him tolerable.

Pendergast can be a pill, that's for sure. But I always manage to root for him, because he does occasionally show signs that he's human. Constance may as well be a robot ... actually, that could explain a lot. Pendergast's outrageous intellectual and physical feats can be explained to some degree by his wealth, his education, his experience in special forces, and his FBI training.

Constance, on the other hand, was picked up off the street at age six by a sociopath. He molded her into exactly what he wanted in a companion. She had more than a century to practice the harpsichord, study languages (Gaelic, really? How convenient), and read hundreds of books on esoteric subjects. She apparently never left the house during that time, which is why her physical feats really beggar belief.

As much as I like "The Book of the Dead," this crap with Constance started then. She'd been a long-term shut-in, but she somehow was able to track Diogenes all around the world, get the better of him in Florence despite his meticulous planning, and outthink him on the slopes of Stromboli.

From there, it's only gotten worse. She's become an "all-knowing ninja," to quote someone on Reddit. She can fire a machine gun after watching (with ill-concealed boredom, no doubt) a man show off the weapon for a few minutes. She can swim, even though she couldn't just a few weeks earlier. She becomes an adept at Chongg Ran after a few lessons (of course she does!).

And what makes it all worse is this gross quasi-romance that's taken up too much time in the series. Constance has convinced herself that she's in love with Pendergast, and she won't take no for an answer. (He's told her "no," with words and body language, more than once.)

If Pendergast has to have a romantic partner, doesn't he deserve better than a short-tempered, monomaniacal sociopath? This woman threatened to kill him in "Blue Labyrinth" for reminding her about her dalliance with Diogenes, then planned her own suicide as he lay dying in the hospital. She saves his life because she's obsessed with him and is dependent on him.

I haven't yet read "The Cabinet of Dr. Leng" -- given how Constance-centric it sounds, I've decided to get it from the library instead of spending my hard-earned money on it -- but I'm hoping the trilogy is a way to gracefully get rid of her. Have her fall for a man back in the 1880s and stay there. Hell, have Diogenes pilot a spaceship from Area 51 back into the 1880s and whisk her off to Mars!

She's taken up enough space in this series. Please, guys, just ditch her already ...

Favorite P/C Novels

Relic, Thunderhead, The Cabinet of Curiosities, Still Life with Crows, The Book of the Dead, Fever Dream, White Fire

Least Favorite P/C Novels

Brimstone, Cemetery Dance, Crimson Shore, Obsidian Chamber, City of Endless Night, Crooked River, Bloodless

#agent pendergast #prestonchild

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hannibutts · 2 years ago

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HANNIBAL SPOILERS S02E07

Miriam be TRAUMATISED but why did Hannibal keep her alive and where and how does she still look relatively healthy? Oh and conveniently she doesn’t remember that it was Hannibal.

Wait, did Hannibal turn her? Like is she his little sleeper agent or something?

In what world do they let Alana officially interview Hannibal especially after being his alibi.

Oop, Miriam said it wasn’t Hannibal. I’m calling it now - she’s working for Hannibal or is traumatised into submission or some shit.

JESUS CHRIST Why is the intro so fucking bright, I’m watching this in the dark and it just blinded the shit out of me

BABYGIRL yay! I have to admit - in my perusing of tumblr for Chilton stuff without being spoilt, I came across a Chilton/Will fanfic (CHILLYWILLY?? Really guys? Wilton was RIGHT THERE) and even though I know and want end game Will/Hannibal, this one fic was really good and made me kinda into the idea.

So right now when I saw Chilton going to Will’s cell I was like oh myyyyy before I remembered that it was just a fic 😅

Wow they’re letting Will out that quick huh? What are the chances he’s going to run directly to Hannibal even after trying to kill him?

Oh god, is baby girl really next or is will just trying to scare him? Look at his scared little face 😭

“Why did Hannibal not just kill you?”

“Because he wants to be my friend”

See that’s a funny line but the implications to babygirl are terrifying oh god, something bad is coming isn’t it??

Jack trying to make amends with Will - I mean at least he’s got a couple of allies with him now that they somewhat believe Hannibal could be the ripper. Oh wait how much time has passed??? Like when is that crazy ass Hannibal v Jack fight happening - are you telling me this has all happened within the 12 week span??? How long was Will imprisoned for??

Aaaaand Will is barely out and Jack has already taken him to a crime scene.

Mmmhmm - Miriam is for sure a sleeper agent. Oh man, what if there’s other evidence that points to Chilton being the ripper and that’s how Hannibal is going to get babygirl?

Aw Will is going to see his dogs again.

Boooo Alana, wait why is she all pissy at him? She literally turned her back on him and for what? To touch Hannibal’s murder wing wang? Haaaaa Will is reading her the rights with a smile. Good.

Oh fuck all the way off Alana.

BabyGirl hooray! He’s so awkward and desperate, I love him your honour.

The funny thing is Chilton IS quite smart, and in another scenario he would be the smartest one in the room, but not when everyone is a serial killer like in this show. I like that he’s calling out jack for turning on Will too, like jack is acting all high and mighty and protective of Will but he was the shittiest one to him.

Rara acting his heart out at the end there.

Ah so Will had the same idea as Chilton to see if he could recover Miriam’s memories.

Ok first. Hannibal could smell Will. I’m aware that he could do this but him acknowledging it was something. Second - Hannibal seemed almost giddy that Will was in his house. Thirdly - Hannibal genuinely looked scared when he saw Will looking unhinged holding the gun. And the conversation was fucking nuts because Hannibal never admitted to anything but also told Will that it was either - kill an innocent man or never get answers. I can honestly say I fucking love this show.

Ooh taking Miriam to Hannibal’s office… I’d be scared for Jack if we didn’t know he and Hannibal have a brawl at some point soon.

Hannibal is pretty confident how much he fucked Miriam up if he’s not scared that she’s actually going to remember.

The FBI are literally throwing darts in the dark now. And just because Chilton used scapolamine - his name is now in the hat too. Thanks Alana (Booooooo)

Chilton’s house is much more swanky than I would have guessed. I mean I guess it makes sense because he wants to seem sophisticated but by the style of suits he wears - I would have thought his house would have been more garish for some reason?

Oh no… ominous beeping in baby girls house Dang his house is super swank.

Something’s flatlining OH SHIT IS THAT GIDEON?? IN HIS HOUSE? Hannibal the scamp is FRAMING framing Chilton. They for sure dyed Rara’s eyebrows - that is the darkest I’ve ever seen them, I think they’re usually blondish or like a light brown or something.

Aw man I don’t want to see Rara as a horror damsel tripping over shit 😭 HANNIBAL IS THERE??? Bahahaha he’s doing his “I frew up” stance again 😂

“When you wake up, your only choice will be to run” wait so is Hannibal going to let Chilton live? I mean I figured considering he’s in the third season but like why? Oh shit Hannibal is going to open the door to the fbi agents?? Oh shit oh shit oh shit he’s going to kill them and frame Babygirl.

How does Hannibal not leave evidence from his hair and face being exposed. If Gattaca taught us anything it’s that we leave behind hair and skin cells everywhere no?

Ok so leaving Chilton covered in blood, with a gun in one hand, a knife in the other is pretty funny. It would have had the same effect to leave a note saying “i did it. Love, Frederick “babygirl” Chilton” 😂😂

Oooh his swanky apartment is all covered in blood, guts and butts now. It must have been very freeing for Hannibal to just frenzy murder without worrying about cleanup. The music in this scene is very reminiscent of the bongos bit of the twilight zone theme song.

RUN, YOU PATHETIC MEOW MEOW

NO, NOT TO WILL’S HOUSE??!!! HE HAS NO LOYALTY TO YOU, FOOL!!!

They really make the fbi look like bumbling fools huh? Like only taking into account what’s in front of them at that moment and dismissing everything else that has come before it. Look at Jack thinking he’s finally cracked the case 🙄

“There are corpses on my property, you just threw up an ear” 😂😂😂

Aw I just want to give baby girl a hug, of course Will called Jack but at least he told Babygirl he’s going to catch Hannibal oh my god, look at babygirls little betrayed face 😭😭😭

Even pointing a gun at Will - he looks so sad and Jesus Will standing up all confidently despite having a gun aimed at him is something… even with his curly mullet thing he has going on.

I don’t get Will here.. is he genuinely trying to protect Chilton or is it to keep one of the few people that knows Hannibal is the ripper on side? And he doesn’t try very hard to stop Jack from grabbing Chilton. Will… seems detached?

Oh babygirl now you run?

Man, Laurence fishburne is quite spry running through the scrub and snow… or maybe he just seems spry in comparison to Chilton who’s disparately stumbling though.

Aw. Chilty like a big weepy baby 😭

“It seems like one final indignity” it sure does, why the fuck is Alana interviewing Chilton?? She’s literally fucking the other suspect that they were supposed to pick up??? Oh my god, Hannibal murder wing wang must be outstanding if Alana is this blindly vitriolic. Jesus.

Good, you get a lawyer, baby girl.

Oh shit is Miriam having a seizure. Well how in the hell did Hannibal convince Miriam it was Chilton??

OH FUCK SHE JUST SHOT CHILTON IN THE FACE. WHAT THE FUCK?? How is Chilton in the third season?? I swear to god if it’s only in flashbacks!

Back to Hannibal and his Francine smith lips. Knock at the door - it’s going to be Will isn’t it? He can’t fucking help himself

Oh Will cut his mullet off and is all clean and ready for their date.

H “Do you intend to point a gun at me?”

W “Not tonight”

W “are you expecting someone?”

H “only you”

Stahhhhp you guys, you’re making me blush.

How is it possible that Mads is conveying absolute giddy happiness but remaining stoic?

Wait so Miriam DID kill Babygirl??? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 like I realise she shot him in the face but still RARA

Haaaa look at Hannibal’s face when Will says he wants to resume his therapy. Picture is 100 percent legit and has not been doctored 😃

So Will is going to battle it out with Hannibal… ok. I’m into it. I wonder if Hannibal is going to break it off with Alana now that he has Will back.

10/10 episode. I still have hope Rara is in the third season properly I will even take a wedged in twin brother plot line over Chilton being dead.

#hannibal #hannibal first time watch #rara my beloved #raul esparza #Hannibal’s Murder Wing Wang

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actual-changeling · 6 months ago

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I hope you don't mind but my under-caffeinated brain spit out something that, as always, a got a tad bit longer than intended.

———

They're at some sort of official FBI event, and Bill still does not like Mulder.

He really does not like him, probably never really will, but his little sister chose Mulder, and honestly? That's enough for him. Bill sees how they are around each other, he sees the way she smiles at him and his stupid jokes, he sees how all the tension leaves her body the second he touches her.

Without her impending death twisting their emotions, he can admit how fiercely they love one another.

They're civil and polite, and sometimes he thinks he might even be warming up a bit to that crazy co-worker turned (unofficial) husband she brought into their midst. By now, he knows better than to make fun of their work, and not everything they do seems to be… paranormal, anyway.

Their common ground is keeping Scully safe, and while their methods tend to clash, they stoically and silently combine their efforts if needed.

The point is, Mulder is family, and he takes care of family.

So when they pass a small group of people and Bill hears whispers about 'Spooky Mulder' and mocking comments directed at him and Scully, he's giving Tara a kiss on the cheek and walking towards them before he even realises what he's doing.

—

Scully and Mulder are more than used to the gossip and casual disrespect and barely hear it anymore. When they all suddenly stop walking, it takes them a second to understand what's going on.

Bill is looming over a handful of men she knows are agents and stepping so far into their personal space that they have to back up until they almost hit the wall. His demeanour is familiar to her, his stance screams protective, and his hands are coiled into loose fists. It reminds her of the first time a boyfriend dumped her and how—after finding his little sister crying in her bedroom—he'd terrified the poor boy into profusely apologising to her the very same day.

"What's he doing?"

Mulder's whisper ghosts over her ear, and she shivers slightly, turning her head towards him without looking away. They're too far away to make out anything outside of their names, but she can haphazard a solid guess.

"I think he's, uh, defending you. Us, probably, considering how other people tend to be."

It is quite fascinating, really, how his steady flow of words manages to pale a bunch of fully-blown FBI agents until they're almost as white as the ugly eggshell-coloured wall behind them. Scully steals a glance at her mother, who is watching the situation unfold with a satisfied smile, no doubt happy that her 'boys' are finally getting along.

When Bill is finished ripping the men a new one, he casually strolls back to them, takes Tara's hand, and gives Mulder a nod and her a hint of a smile.

No one brings it up again, but when they part at the end of the evening, she gives her brother a lingering hug and has to suppress a grin when Bill awkwardly pats Mulder's shoulder.

Once they're gone, Mulder looks at her with confusion and careful contentedness.

"What the hell was that?"

Scully only shrugs and intertwines their fingers, pulling him towards the parking garage.

"You're family, and he takes care of family."

I wish you’d write a fic where Mulder and Scully elope after the pilot.

(Sorry, I had to! 😅)

Alternatively perhaps a scene in which Bill Scully defends Mulder.

hahaha! i mean. tbh it is an idea i keep playing with lol.

bill defending mulder, that is a thought! hmm. that could be really really interesting if there was any way i could think of to make that happen. tempting!

#alex watches x files #txf #msr #this is what happens when i open the tumblr text box it's like a curse

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edamamechips · 3 years ago

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the chances of a fed breaking into your house with a bobby pin are low. but never zero.

#riverdale #betty cooper #i love that she STILL does that. as an official fbi agent #more proof that she just faked her certificate <3 #anna.txt

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writer-in-theory · 3 years ago

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Hero Complex Part One: The Hero

summary: the reader gets assigned to the bau for her summer internship, and she’s overjoyed to meet her hero, spencer reid. after a misunderstanding when they first meet, she wonders if maybe he isn't who she thought he was. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader content warnings: language, age gap (spencer would be 29-ish and reader is 22), brief self-deprecating thoughts word count: 2.4k a/n: this is set at the beginning of season seven, so definitely major spoilers for the end of season six/beginning of season seven. specifically, i have this starting out between episodes one and two of season 7. i meant for this to be a one-shot and then it kind of took off, so this should be shorter series, around 3 parts or so (maybe 4?). I’d love to hear what you think!

masterlist series masterlist

When you’d gotten your official assignment from your contact agent, you were sure it was a dream.

“You’ll be interning with the BAU for three months this summer at Quantico,” he explained, but your brain stopped listening after ‘BAU’.

“The BAU? As in, the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all, Sir! I didn’t think they would take interns,” you scrambled to explain, heart racing at the thought of your contact agent assuming you were ungrateful. “The BAU is absolutely legendary. The way it started just from two agents and is now catching some of the most prolific killers in the country, I just, I can’t believe I get to learn from them.”

“Well, believe it, Kid, you start Monday.”

When Monday rolled around, you woke up two hours earlier than you needed to; completely filled to the brim with nervous energy. After nearly emptying your closet in an attempt to find your most professional-looking outfit, you were on your way to the FBI headquarters.

Despite the early hour, the building was already busy with agents and other personnel bustling about. You stood at the front desk of the building, hands up in front of your stomach as you mindlessly fidgeted with your fingers. SSA Hotchner had emailed you that weekend letting you know that one of the agents on the team would meet you in the main lobby to introduce you to the team properly.

Between the crowds of agents rushing into the building to start their shifts and the nerves now wrapping around your body like a vice, it was easy to miss her. “Y/N L/N?” The voice startled you out of your thoughts, finally making you notice the blond woman making her way toward you. Her smile was kind, soothed you in a way you weren’t quite expecting.

“Yes, yeah, that’s me,” you answered, sticking your hand out to shake, “it’s great to meet you, Agent Jareau.”

“Call me JJ, everyone else does,” the woman explained with clear laughter in her voice. The way her eyes softened every time you made eye contact and the way she fought against her smile let you know that she was endeared by you. Like a kid. It was a typical response you got, but it still made your shoulders dip a little. You knew you looked young for your age, and even then because of the way you’d fast-tracked high school you were a couple of years younger than your peers. You were used to being looked at like a kid, being underestimated. It just meant you had a lot to prove to this team over the three months you’d be with them.

JJ led you over to one of the elevators, explaining how the months at the same time. “You’ll report to Agent Rossi directly, but you might end up shadowing any of us depending on the day.”

“Wait, Agent Rossi? You don’t mean David Rossi, one of the founders of the BAU?” you gasped, hands already shaking at the prospect of being able to speak to such a legend. Not just speak to, but work with. “He practically created profiling. You know, 67% of serial killer cases taken by the FBI have been solved using criminal profiling? It’s completely fascinating ho—sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” JJ told you, and it sounded convincing enough, a different kind of look on her face now that you couldn’t quite place, “you’ll fit right in with the team.”

“I hope so.” The elevator door opened to reveal a much quieter floor, thank goodness. Your head moved on a swivel, trying to take in everything you could about the space you’d be working from. There were different hallways leading to closed offices, but the main room held a matrix of desks that you knew had to belong to the profilers.

JJ brought you first to the nearest doorway, an office enclosed in glass. The plate on the door let you know that this was Agent Hotchner’s office, the unit chief for the BAU. He seemed nice enough over email, getting straight to the point but making sure to let you know that if you needed anything you could always come to him. “Hotch, this is Y/N,” she called, getting the man sitting at the desk to snap his head up. Clearly, he’d been working on something important, from the way his eyebrows were still furrowed a little on his face. Or, maybe he was just that serious all the time.

“It’s good to have you here,” he welcomed, shaking your hand and not quite giving you a smile, but rather the impression that there was one in his eyes.

“It’s great to be here, Sir.”

“Agent Rossi told me how impressive your application was,” he told you, and you were sure your heart forgot how to beat for a second.

“Really?” Normally, you’d be embarrassed by the way your voice rose in pitch, clearly betraying your shock. David Rossi said you were impressive. “Thank you, Sir.”

Hotch nodded, going through a few more of the basic guidelines they had for interns before JJ took you to meet the rest of the team. You could travel with them on a case as long as it was deemed to be safe, otherwise, you would stay behind with a Penelope Garcia. You would not be placed in any dangerous scenarios, only allowed to join them in the field when the risk was properly evaluated.

Meeting the rest of the team went quickly after that. They all seemed to notice the new person right away, coming over almost as soon as they got to the right floor.

“Don’t tell me it’s ‘bring your kid to work day’, JJ.” The man looked intimidating—tall, clearly one of the strongest people you’d ever met—but the playfulness that filled his expression clued you into the fact that he would be one of the kindest people you’ve met.

“How old do you think I am?” the woman beside you balked, shaking her head at her friend. “This is Y/N, the new intern.”

“Derek Morgan,” the man introduced. “What are you studying?”

“Oh, um, I’m studying psychology, with a focus on behavioral and clinical studies.” This man, Derek Morgan, was incredibly charming. It almost threw you off, the way he smiled at you. Despite that though, you could tell he wasn’t intentionally flirting with you, this was just him. At least, you hoped.

“Man, when I was a freshman I had no idea what I wanted to do,” another voice called just to your left. A woman with dark hair walked up then, “I’m Emily.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you answered automatically, then began to process what she’d actually said. Oh, oh no, there had definitely been a big misunderstanding here. “I’m working on my doctorate in psychology, actually,” you explained softly, chewing on your lower lip right after.

“Kid, you can’t be more than 20,” Morgan piped up as Emily and JJ shared a look between each other.

“I’m 22, actually.” It wasn’t that different, only two years off, but somehow those two years felt important to you. “I’m working on my thesis project now, and my professor suggested this internship. He said he thought it would help.”

“Damn, have you met Reid yet?” Emily asked.

As if the job couldn’t get any better. Ever since you’d finished your undergraduate degrees, Spencer Reid had become a bit of a hero to you. You’d found one of his thesis papers while working on a term paper for your chemistry degree. The topic was interesting, and eventually, you found his other thesis papers, and then his co-authored essays on anything from the Fibonacci sequence to the various childhood stressors that could ‘create’ a killer. He’d also graduated high school early (though much earlier than you had), and it was comforting to know that someone like you had ended up being successful. The people in front of you must have noticed the change in your behavior (of course they did, they’re top-class profilers) because then JJ was asking, “You know him?”

“No, no I don’t. I just thought the name sounded familiar. I think I might’ve quoted one of his articles for a paper once,” you explain. Is there any way to lie to profilers? They weren’t mind-readers though, so you urged yourself to keep a neutral expression. When none of them said anything, you were sure you had gotten away with it.

Still, you couldn’t wait to meet him. His story was part of what kept you going through school. When you were sixteen, in a completely new state in a new city, living with all of these adults who had no idea how to act around you. When you were seventeen, and those adults became hostile toward you when they realized you could outpace them. Even this past year as you started your doctorate program, thinking now you’d finally start off on equal footing with everyone only to walk into a lecture hall of people much older than you, people who came to view you as competition rather than a friend.

It was a relief to know that eventually, you could get your dream job and you could be on the same playing field as everyone else.

“Speak of the genius himself,” Morgan spoke up, “Hey, Pretty Boy! Get over here.”

The order was impossible not to follow, considering the man in question was already walking toward the main desk area. He was, well okay, he was breathtaking. His hair was a little messy as if it had once been styled but he’d run his hand through it too many times on the way here. He could only be described as academic looking, you were sure you’d seen plenty of your professors dressed like he was.

And yet, your brain completely short-circuited in that moment. It was strange to meet someone you looked up to. You’d spent all this time putting this person up on a pedestal, almost to the point of forgetting they were another person like you. Now, he was in front of you and what could you possibly say?

It was JJ that came to your rescue, reminding you of why you wanted to stick close to her here. “This is Y/N, the new intern.”

“It’s great to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you spoke, trying not to wince at how eager you sounded.

He didn’t even look at you. Spencer was instead giving JJ an intense look that you couldn’t quite figure out, not bothering to notice you at all. While that stung, you could’ve gotten past that; but Spencer Reid didn’t stop there. Never once even sparing you a glance, he snapped, “Why do we need an intern right now? She’ll just get in the way.” He walked right over to his desk and sat down, clearly not noticing the way you reeled back like his words had physically slammed into your chest. He didn’t even have the decency to give you the room to react without feeling completely embarrassed.

If it were anyone else, you might’ve said something. You knew how capable you were. Hell, you had triple majored through undergrad simply because you couldn’t decide which thing you wanted to study, so you’d chosen them all. Agent Rossi wouldn’t have picked you if you would be in the way, and Reid needed to know that.

Instead, this was Spencer Reid, whose story kept you from reacting too negatively to your own situation. So you stood in shocked silence, lips slightly parted as you tried to come up with something, anything you could say to stop the awkwardness that spread over the air.

It was JJ who broke the silence, probably trying to defuse the situation but only digging the hurt in more. “It’s not about you, Y/N. It’s just not a good time to bring in new people, we’ve all gone through a lot recently.”

It’s not a good time. Suddenly you found yourself wondering why the hell Rossi and Hotchner agreed to bring you on. Did no one actually want you there? JJ could’ve been right, that he would have reacted to anyone as he had, but what if this was about you? They all seemed like great people, the type who would try to do the good thing. Were they faking kindness just to make you feel okay in this position? Did they not want anything to do with you? Would they all gather around a bar tonight and talk about how young you are, how naive and bothersome you are? Would they-

“Kid, Kid, are you okay?” The voice belonged to Morgan. He was looking at you like you might crumble at any second. From the way you felt your chest rise and fall far too quickly, you considered the fact that he might be right. She’ll just be in the way. You longed for the comfort Morgan was clearly offering, but you couldn’t prove Reid’s point right away.

Instead, you took a shuddering breath and righted your shoulders, nodding once. “I’m great. I’m also not a kid, Agent Morgan,” you told him with a smile.

“Around here you are,” Morgan laughed, slinging his arm around your shoulders and guiding you past the desks and down a hallway. “Now c’mon, you have to meet Garcia. I have a feeling you’ll get along well.”

So you kept going through your first day of work like that. You spent most of your time in Penelope’s lair as she called it, learning about all of the coordinating she did for the team. Eventually, you braved going back to the cluster of desks in the main room, though ended up sticking close to Morgan with whom you talked about the triathlon you’d run in undergrad and what sports teams were worth watching in the area.

By the time you made it back to your apartment, the hurt didn’t sting but rather had dulled to an ache. So Spencer Reid wasn’t who you thought he’d be, and turns out maybe proving yourself at this job would be harder than you thought, but there were some great people on this team. There was no way you were letting someone like Reid try to scare you away from such a great opportunity, so you fell asleep with a deep determination settling in your chest.

No matter what, you would prove to Spencer Reid that you deserved to be there just the same as he did.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #my fics

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halforcdad · 3 years ago

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love that the camera panned to Whistler when Ernie mentioned a “cheat code”, yes it’s because she was having the revelation about Alina being the key, but also because Whistler in a way is NCIS’s cheat code and secret weapon in tandem with Ernie most of the time

no she’s not marching out into the field with them 99% of the time to nab the suspect or save the victim with cool ass fighting skills, but she is still working her ass off behind the scenes, doing the tedious, but necessary research and pulling her connections to help them solve their cases and getting them out of situations safely (here we go again):

just off the top of my head, Whistler gets them the list of names in 1x01, sends the FBI to help Tennant and Jesse in 1x06, helps Lucy and Ernie work out the Clark Lohan stuff and figure out what his real goal is in 1x10, is invited onto the team for good reason and delivers during the Maggie Shaw case, literally everything that happened in 1x17 and 1x20, and helps them figure out who the Freeloffs are and how to crack David in 1x21, asks her friend for assistance to get a lead in the 1x22 to find Babin, sure some of this you can explain away as Whistler just doing her job and doing what she should as an intel officer/special agent, theoretically you could say any other DIA officer or FBI agent could do what Whistler does for the team adequately and decently

but Whistler is quick and efficient and she’s analytical, does all the research, she comes prepared, checks all her work twice makes sure to dot all her i’s and cross her t’s and knows how to get what she wants, she’s just very good at her job plain and simple (there’s a reason D.C. wanted her in a big managerial position) she bounces off the team well and gets them what they need without needing to be asked twice and never complains, and half of the help Whistler gives is offered when she’s not even on duty, she’s making time and exceptions for the team and she proves herself worthy of their trust and belief in her time and time again, it’s why even if you take away the Lucy stuff and the ease of having already known and developed a rocky relationship with her before her FBI transfer, they keep going back to her even if she’s not an official liaison between the departments, Whistler always pulls through

she is the cheat code you cannot account for because she is not NCIS and brings an outside perspective and skillset, but she has been heavily influenced by them, she is the cheat code because she has a reputation that comes with expectations and behavior you expect from her but then she surprises you, she’s a different person now, it’s the love given to her and the love she has for Lucy, the way the team just wants to see them both happy and cared for, her blatant honesty and transparency and willingness to be open and raw, her willingness to put everything on the line to protect the one she loves most when appealing to Alina that wouldn’t have been there in the beginning of the season, that’s only come after a long season of toiling with her emotions. rethinking her life and goals, of realizing her mistakes and earnestly trying to fix them and ultimately the growth that’s come from that, that inevitably appeals to Alina and gets her to share what she knows, Whistler is a cheat code because she’s learning to adapt and change and not be stuck in her ways because of the power of love, Whistler not caring that Alina thinks she's foolish to for telling her how much she cares because Whistler caring and loving is what saves the day

#ncis hawaii #kate whistler #kacy #in case my 100 posts didnt give it away im a staunch whistler supporter #i havent loved both members of a ship so much in a while wth #there was just so much whistler this episode i was pleasantly surprised they really did right by kacy this finale #the power of falling in love with one dazzling lucy tara life changing stuff i tell you

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years ago

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The Other Side of the Storm

Summary: Spencer & Luke are not out as a couple but have to attend the same FBI gala where a young, pretty agent insists on flirting with Luke. Misunderstandings and surprising reveals ensue.

Tags: relationship reveal, secret relationship, coming out, jealousy, caught, hurt/comfort, autistic spencer, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, found family, est. rel., cuddling & snuggling, domestic fluff

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Lets pretend I didn't just disappear for a couple of weeks bc I'm BACK now yay! This is written for a prompt from @ralvezhq who asked: "Ralvez is already dating but no one knows about them yet. they get invited to some sort of FBI gala and a young, accomplished female agent won’t stop flirting with luke and spencer is absolutely not having it so he finds a way to let everyone know they are together." -- I stuck to it except that they're caught rather than willingly confessing, I hope that's okay! I really enjoyed this one, so I hope you do as well.

!!!TW: the woman is very insistent on her flirting and makes Luke uncomfortable when she touches his chest without his consent!!!

“Any particular reason you keep looking over at that table full of Fugitive Task Force members, Spence?” JJ asks amusedly, sipping from her wine glass.

“Mm, I’ve noticed you looking over there a little bit,” Tara muses. “You got your eye on someone?”

Spencer looks down and forces a laugh, but he can feel the tips of his ears turning pink, and knows that he’s not gonna hear the end of this for the rest of the night. The team have never been fond of the FBI Galas they’re forced into attending every year, and unfortunately, Hotch’s usual stunt of pulling a non-urgent case from the stack and jetting off to some far-flung corner of the country to avoid it failed to fool the director this time.

He’d broken the news to them at the start of the week, and conversation in the bullpen has pretty much exclusively revolved around the event ever since. Even Penelope, who loves seeing people win awards and dressing up in her favourite full-glam outfits, has been significantly less upbeat. She only gave him one spontaneous hug all week.

None of them, though, have been dreading it more than Spencer. The others aren’t exactly fond of the faux smiles and convoluted politics and fake niceties either, sure, but tonight he has far more to lose than ever before. Namely, the man sat just out of his direct eye line at the Fugitive Task Force table.

Ironically, he and Luke had gotten ready for the same event together. They’d stood in the mirror side by side and tied one another’s ties in the way that always makes Spencer smile and Luke had gently brushed his hair out of eyes, but when it came time to leave, Spencer called a rideshare, and Luke drove the truck, arriving at completely different times in completely different vehicles.

The thing is, that as much as he loves his team, and as much as the FBI fraternisation policy has been significantly relaxed over the last few years, no one can know they’re together and have been for the last eight months.

Even the thought of Derek or Hotch or even JJ finding out — not only that he’s dating someone but that that person is a man — makes him feel queasy.

Which is why he smiles around an awkward cough and forces himself to meet the eyes of his profiler teammates, fighting every instinct in him to run, leg it out of here, never show your face again.

“No, I’m just looking at the clock above them,” he lies, and it isn’t smooth in any way shape or form but it’ll have to do. “You know I can’t wait for this to end. I haven’t read any Carl Jung in weeks.”

Tara laughs, raising her wine glass slightly. “Now that I understand.”

“Nah, I’m not so sure,” Derek grins slyly, “I think my man has his eye on some girl and he’s just getting a little shy, am I right, pretty boy?” He quirks an eyebrow playfully, leaning over to pat him on the back, and Spencer scrambles to recover.

“Believe whatever you’d like, Morgan,” he says, bringing his own glass to his lips to conceal any tells in his expression. “Doesn’t make it any less false.”

Thankfully, the conversation is interrupted by the Director clearing his throat into the mic on the stage as he introduces the next round of awards. Spencer loses himself in the anonymity of a dark room and a clapping audience, grateful that he’s avoided this round of interrogation.

The rest of the night progresses similarly. Spencer tries to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table — and valiantly attempts to keep from blushing like a schoolgirl when their eyes meet and Luke’s lips quirk upwards in an I-tried-to-stop-it-but-I-just-can’t kind of smile — and the rest of his team rib him pretty relentlessly about this ‘girl’ he supposedly has his eye on.

Hotch tries to get the team to leave him alone, but when a group of skilled, determined profilers all a little tipsy on wine and champagne encounter a friend’s mysterious love life, it’s pretty difficult to stand in their way.

Once dessert is served, though, things rapidly go downhill.

As much as he’s been trying to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table, it’s almost impossible to prevent his gaze from straying in a temporary moment of cognitive lapse every now and then, and while everyone is relatively quiet and occupied, digging into the Belgian waffle dessert, it happens once again. This time, though, instead of a small smile from Luke, he’s rewarded with the frankly heart-stopping sight of a young, pretty agent practically sitting in his lap, trying to feed him dessert.

He looks uncomfortable, and immediately Spencer is hit with an overwhelming wave of insecurity, jealousy, and an urge to protect that strangles his breath for a moment. He stares unabashedly, no longer caring whether anyone sees him because that’s his boyfriend and an extremely pretty woman is all over him and he looks like he wants her to stop, and oh my god, what does he do?

“Is that the girl you like all over that dude?” Derek asks sympathetically, catching onto Spencer’s staring. “It’s alright, man, if she’d choose someone else over you then she’s not right for you anyway. Why don’t you come and enjoy your dessert?”

Spencer senses the rest of the team’s eyes on him, but they don’t say anything, probably from a combination of pity, awkwardness, and confidence in Derek to counsel him through it. He’s hardly cognisant of that, though, instead a roar of emotion crashing through his mind, and he has no idea what to do about it.

When he sees a perfectly manicured hand land directly on Luke’s chest, though; when he sees Luke reject her more firmly, this time pushing her away; when he watches as she clearly gears herself up for some sad protest of self-victimisation, he sees red.

Before he can stop himself, he’s storming across the room over to Luke’s table. “Hi,” he says firmly, audibly pissed off and not in the mood for bullshit, “do you mind if I borrow my friend here? I have some official FBI business to discuss with him. Thanks.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs Luke’s arm and leads him to the corridor outside the main hall, Luke following quickly and willingly behind him.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks with his brow furrowed, his hand coming up to gently rest on Luke’s waist as he peers at him concernedly through the dim lighting of the hallway.

“Yes, baby, I’m fine,” Luke smiles reassuringly, raising a hand to Spencer’s face. “I’m sorry you had to see that. She was… persistent.”

“She shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable like that,” Spencer insists, still feeling distressed and anxious despite the immediate situation having been diffused.

“You’re right,” Luke agrees. “And she should’ve listened to me when I told her I was taken. I’m sorry you had to see someone flirting with me so openly like that, carinõ, I know you still get insecure about things like that.”

Spencer sighs, relaxing slowly the more he hears Luke’s voice as steady and strong and kind as it always is. He steps forward and buries his face in Luke’s neck as he nestles in close for a comforting hug.

“You know I only have eyes for you, right, sweetheart?” Luke whispers softly, one arm holding his waist and another tangling itself in Spencer’s loose curls.

He nods into Luke’s neck, but doesn’t make any move to pull away, just enjoying the warmth and closeness of standing so intimately with the man he loves until—

“Spencer!” Derek’s voice pulls him violently from his sweet escape from reality and horror instantly floods him as he jerks away from Luke, staring at Derek in a nauseating mixture of alarm and trepidation.

“What…” Derek stares right back at him as both JJ and Tara come tumbling through the doors behind him, looking ready for a fight—

Oh. That makes sense. They all saw him storming towards a woman they thought he had a crush on, then pull the man she was flirting with out into the most secluded corridor surrounding the hall. Even considering Spencer’s character, he has to admit that the circumstances definitely look like he was gearing up for a fight, and everyone knows that he is not the kind of person who could hold his own against an ex-military man who chases down criminals for a living.

“You’re… not fighting him,” Derek says hesitantly, the puzzle pieces clearly falling into place for him.

Spencer shakes his head minutely, and is only thankful when Luke inches closer and wraps an arm around him. After all, he has nothing more to lose.

“You were looking at him, not her,” Derek continues slowly.

Spencer nods, unable to meet the eyes of any of the three friends standing in front of him.

“You’re dating him,” he says, still sounding shocked, his voice almost entirely numb. “You’re gay.”

“Or bisexual,” Tara offers, and Spencer takes a little comfort in the fact that she doesn’t sound shocked or upset, her voice warm and helpful. He tries to meet her eye, but he can’t work up the courage and buries closer into Luke’s embrace instead.

“Gay,” he whispers.

“Spence,” JJ says quietly, earnestly, “why didn’t you tell us?”

It’s too much to go into right now, too convoluted and long of a story for him to explain when even choking out a single syllable takes a herculean effort, so he shrugs instead.

“We were talking all night assuming you were interested in a woman,” Derek says numbly, more to himself than anything, but Spencer watches out of the corner of his eye as he shakes off the shock and comes back to himself, slowly putting more of the puzzle together as he looks at Spencer. “That’s why you didn’t tell us. We’ve been making assumptions all this time and hurting you in the process.”

“Oh, Spence,” JJ whispers sadly, stepping a little closer.

“I’m so sorry, pretty boy, I— I should’ve known or tried to be more inclusive at least, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this.”

The regret in his friends’ voices and the absence of a negative reaction brings him out of the safety of Luke’s arms slightly. His boyfriend is eyeing him with serious concern, and he tries a smile to reassure him a little, squeezing his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he manages, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally succeeds in making eye contact. “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you another time, but, uh— this is Luke. We’ve been together for eight months, two weeks, and four days.”

Luke smiles fondly. “As much as we didn’t expect to reveal it like this, it’s nice to meet all of you properly,” Luke says warmly, shaking everyone’s hands quickly before stepping back to Spencer and interlocking their fingers, pressing a quick but meaningful kiss to his temple.

“I’m really glad you felt able to share this with us, Spence,” Tara says encouragingly, smiling at him in that bright, reassuring way of hers that rivals Penelope in the warmth and comfort it radiates. “I’m proud of you.”

Something about her reaction this entire time has him wondering whether she already knew. He’ll ask her later when he feels less like his heart is still firmly lodged in his throat.

“Me too, kid,” Derek agrees, smiling as well. Spencer wonders whether the initial shock and numb reaction was more a response to his own behaviour than anything about him and Luke, and the thought makes him feel substantially better.

JJ grins, stepping forward and grabbing Spencer’s other hand. “Me three.”

Before anyone can say anything else, the doors are opening again and Penelope is flying through them.

“Oh! Thank god you’re all okay! You just ran off after Spencer and I left you guys to it because I thought you could handle it better than I could but then you didn’t come back and even Hotch was worried, and—” she cuts herself off as she realises everyone staring at her, and slowly she takes in the scene around her. “Oh my god, I’ve missed something. Oh my god, I missed a moment, didn’t I? What have I told you guys about having moments without me? Someone tell me what happened, please, before I explode—”

“Alright, Penelope,” Spencer chuckles, interrupting her. He’s known her for too long to expect her to cut herself off when she’s on a tirade like that. “Uh, this is Luke. My boyfriend.”

“Your… your boyfriend? Oh my god, I finally get to meet him? Wait you told the others? Oh my god I’ve missed so much!”

“Penelope knew?” Derek asks, surprised.

“Half of mine and Spencer’s mutual friends are FBI Agents, and the other half are drag queens, of course I knew,” Penelope dismisses him, “but he wasn’t ready for me to meet his boyfriend yet or even know his name and I very nicely did not go hunting to find him out because I could’ve done that, but I didn’t, because I value you so much as a friend, Spencer, and I’m so glad you finally—”

“Penelope!” Spencer interjects, laughing even more as the tension and distress he’d felt only minutes ago finally melts away fully. “Do you actually want to introduce yourself to Luke, or do you want to keep rambling about drag queens?”

“Right! Yes!” she says eagerly, turning to Luke. “I’m Penelope and it is so nice to meet you, like you don’t even know how much I’ve wanted to meet the man who has my blueberry muffin blushing bright pink in the corner of my batcave while he texts on the phone, and I know you call him carinõ because I saw a text once and it’s the sweetest nickname ever, you are just the cutest, and we are going to be best friends—”

Spencer rests his head on Luke’s shoulder as he listens fondly to Penelope rambling and his friends chatting amongst themselves and everyone getting to know the most important man in his life — the only man he’s ever wanted anything long term with, the only man he’s ever wanted to actually marry one day — and a warm, sweet feeling of contentment floods his chest.

It’s far from the way he thought he’d feel after the team found about Luke, and he savours it, holds it in his mouth for as long as he can before swallowing the memory and filing it away to treasure forever. A moment like this deserves that kind of reverence.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” Luke asks gently as they crawl into bed, tired but happy at gone 2am. He pulls Spencer into his side as soon as they’re under the duvet, resting his chin on his head as he always does.

Moments like these make Spencer smile, the kind of familiar routine that’s so essential to their relationship. Luke had figured out early on that close physical contact and firm touches make him feel safe and settle his racing mind, so they’d worked out positions that made them both feel comfortable, and now relaxing into them is second nature.

“A bit weird,” Spencer admits after thinking for a moment. “I’m happy that they know now and everyone took it well, but it’s strange. A significant part of who I am has been not only that I’m gay, but the dedication I felt to protecting that secret. And now that it’s out, it feels like something private has been bared for my friends to inspect.”

“I think that’s only natural,” Luke muses quietly, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s curls. “It’ll take some getting used to, but you’ll adjust eventually.”

Spencer sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. After I tackle telling Hotch and Rossi, it’ll be nice not to have to hide it. I’ll be able to talk about you at work and maybe even go crazy and put a photo of you on my desk.”

“Wow, that is wild, check you out,” Luke chuckles, before they settle into a comfortable silence in the warm glow of their bedroom. Eventually, he speaks up though, quiet and reverent. “I’m proud of you, carinõ. I really am.”

The words instantly make Spencer smile, a light blush tinging his ears again. He hides his face in Luke’s chest, scooching impossibly closer into his arms. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” Luke replies, a happy sigh in his voice.

He reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. His hand returns to Spencer’s hair and something clicks into place somewhere, a fundamental alignment of the universe that brings a feeling of something so incredibly right as their breathing rhythmically matches to one another and they slide into the welcome embrace of sleep.

I hope you enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with this one. If anyone has any more ralvez relationship reveal prompts, feel free to send them my way!

Taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @spencerspecifics @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @hotchscotchh @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @thataveragenerd @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @ropoto @cmily @nudgerox @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @downwiththedoorpoole @nomajdetective (Add yourself to my taglist here!)

#my writing #ralvez #criminal minds #cm #luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez fic #ralvez fanfic #ralvez fanfiction #luke alvez/spencer reid #luke alvez x spencer reid #spencer reid/luke alvez #spencer reid x luke alvez #ralvez fluff #ralvez relationship reveal #ralvez au

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maybege · 3 years ago

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... Stays In Quantico - FBI Part 2

Summary: Back in Quantico, you are reminded just how difficult your situation is. (Part 2 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

Here we are! I am so excited to finally start sharing this story with you. Having binged through all 15 seasons, I just want to say now that (1) this story will be canon-divergent and (2) it will be a slow burn. It is my first longer story about Hotch and I hope I will do his character justice. As always, you can find the posting schedule linked in my masterlist.

Have fun reading and let me know what you think.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“I don’t know what to think.”

“This is not the kind of job where you don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe from someone who just told me she doesn’t know what to think.”

You shifted in your seat. The office you were in was colder than the bullpen of the BAU and you wished you had remembered to bring your cardigan with you. Now all you were wearing was your short-sleeved dress and heels.

To be fair, you had presumed this would just be a standard meeting with the in-house therapist. After the incident in Kansas City, it seemed like standard procedure and you were glad to have been offered this opportunity.

Now though, sitting in the way too soft armchair with the brunette older woman looking at you over her glasses, this felt more like an evaluation than anything else. And you absolutely hated it.

You looked at the still-life of a fruit bowl on the right wall, right next to a bookshelf full of framed certificates. A woman who was proud of her accomplishments.

The first and last time you had had an evaluation was when you had first started working at the FBI and back then you had been sure that you had failed it. You had been sure you had failed all of it.

Your grandmother always used to say that if you looked for flaws long enough you would find them.

Dr Johnson looked like she spent her life looking for flaws.

“Tell me again why you chose to work for the FBI – and the BAU specifically.”

You would not make it anyway. Fuck it.

“There is so much hurt in the world,” you started, watching her eyebrows rise over the frames of her glasses, “I would feel better knowing I am trying to do something against it. And as for the BAU,” you shrugged, “Chief Sector Strauss approached me about it and I thought I would be stupid not to take the opportunity.”

She hummed, looking down at her file. “You don’t have any official FBI training.”

“No.”

“Any formal police training?”

“No.”

“Gun training?”

You hid your smile at the thought of the recent debacle for the gun qualification.

“I took down an UnSub in Kansas City last week,” you reminded her, “That is why I am here.”

She did not react to it. “In fact,” she leafed through the papers in her hand, “You only recently finished college. How did that go for you?”

“Good,” you nodded, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, “It was good.”

“What did you major in?”

“English,” you replied and when you saw her raised eyebrow, tried to elaborate, “Um, English literature to be exact and I have a minor in law as well.”

“Why only a minor?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why did you only minor in law? Were you not good enough?”

To cover the unease from her question, you crossed your legs. “I had no interest in law,” you answered truthfully, “My passion was and is with literature.”

The full truth was, you simply did not like law students. That and the pressure they were under was, you were convinced, what brought many lawyers to an early grave. But she did not need to know that about you.

Ironic that you had ended up in the BAU after all this.

Totally not stressful.

She said your name, then, slowly, and leant forward. You tensed, knowing that look too well. Was this the moment she would tell you that you had failed the valuation? The moment Hotch would come into the office and hand you your resignation with that disappointed look in his eyes.

Maybe the way Kansas City had ended was just a way to disguise the true going-ons of your work here in Quantico?

“You have been here, what, seven months now, Agent?”

“Yes, eight months, coming February,” you replied, meeting her gaze and swallowing the dryness of your throat.

“Would you say you have adjusted to your life here in Virginia?”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dr Johnson made a vague gesture as if encompassing everything and anything, “Do you have friends here? Family? How do you get on with your colleagues?”

Well, you certainly had not been expecting this kind of question.

“I live together with a friend,” you answered slowly, “My family lives in Idaho.”

“Idaho,” Johnson smiled, “A long way from home, no?”

“Yes.”

“Look, Agent, I am not going to lie,” she sighed, putting her pen down on the notepad, “I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.”

You’re not the only one, you thought with a grimace.

“I am sure you are a good person, that your motivations for working here are true,” she elaborated, “But your lack of training? Your lack of … experience,” she gave you a pitiful look, “I am simply not convinced you are cut out for the work we need here.”

You had always thought it but hearing someone else say it to your face hit deeper than you ever could have thought. Your fingers started to tremble and you clasped your hands together, squeezing them to somehow force yourself to remain with as much dignity as you could.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would keep your tears at bay, “What – what does that mean?”

“As there are no reasons for a suspension based on your mental health, the next step would be that I get in contact with your supervisor,” she threw a look on her paper, “SSA Aaron Hotchner, is that correct?” you nodded and she continued, “A written evaluation of your role at the BAU will be requested and then we will go from there. Best case scenario is you won’t leave at all, worst case scenario …”, she trailed off.

Of course, she did not need to finish the sentence for you to know what she was saying.

Worst case scenario: You would leave the FBI.

Realization washed over you and you smiled tightly at her. “Thank you, Dr Johnson,” you stood up, reaching a polite hand out to her which she took, “If you will excuse me, I should get back to my desk while I still can.”

Dr Johnson smiled kindly at you which only made it worse. She was pitying you. She felt sorry for you. Sorry for your incompetence, sorry for you not belonging in this place.

You felt like you would throw up any minute.

“Of course, Agent,” she said softly, “I will inform your supervisor of my recommendation. You will receive a copy of the protocol within the next week.”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes as you hurried out of her office.

The staff washroom on the third floor was always empty.

You knew that from the fact that you had often used it as a refuge after nearly dissolving into tears in the bullpen. That and the fact that the third floor was far away enough for anyone of the BAU to search for you here made it the perfect place to come after your talk with Dr Johnson.

You threw a look on your watch.

Six minutes. You would give yourself six minutes and then you would go to your desk and work on those reports and show Dr Johnson that you loved your job and that you were capable of doing it. You would show her that you were not the anxious, incompetent student she saw in you but someone who could be an asset to the team.

I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.

Tears shot into your eyes and you locked the little cabin behind you, sitting on the edge of the toilet as you rushed to grab a few pieces of toilet paper.

The first sob echoed in the tiled room and you pressed the tissues to your mouth, hoping it would muffle the sounds somewhat. Your skin felt too hot and too tight and you could already see how your makeup would be ruined by the tears no matter how hard you tried.

And you had left your backup mascara in your bag at your desk.

Great. Just great.

Anxiety filled you at the thought of having to prove yourself even more than before. After Kansas City and Hotch’s encouraging words, you had somehow hoped that the hard part was over now. That you could focus on delivering good work instead of questioning if everyone doubted your belonging in the unit.

But maybe they were and they were just too polite to mention it? Maybe Dr Johnson was finally saying what they all wanted to spare you from?

Tears were rolling freely over your cheeks now, dropping onto your dress and you cursed, trying to wipe it away and somehow keep your face dry. There were still quite a few hours left in the workday and although you hoped there would not be a case coming in today, you were working along with a team of profilers.

You were like an open book to them even if there was the agreement to not profile each other.

A look on your watch told you it was nearly time to go and you took a moment to listen if anybody was there before stepping out of the little cubicle. It was completely abandoned.

Much like you had expected, you looked an absolute mess and just seeing yourself in the mirror brought fresh tears into your eyes.

“Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity,” you echoed the motto, gripping the edge of the counter and taking deep breaths, “Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity.”

“Hey, kid, how did it go?”

You entered the chaotic bullpen, just barely avoiding crashing into Anderson before making your way to your desk. Reid was seated across from you which meant that no matter how much of a mess you left at the end of a day, it still looked comparably neat.

Now though, it was nearly empty.

“Hi Derek,” you smiled tightly, your eyes still irritated from your impromptu cry session as you sat down at your desk.

You had splashed cold water on your face in hopes of somehow feeling and looking better. Still, you immediately went for your bag, scrambling to find your emergency mascara and lipstick to sneak back into the washroom before anyone noticed.

Especially –

“Agent,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the office and you winced, feeling the heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. You stayed ducked over your bag, hoping that maybe he did not mean you. Maybe he wanted to talk to Derek or Emily or Reid or –

Cleanly polished shoes appeared in your field of vision and you swallowed.

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled, hastily wiping your cheek of a stray tear before straightening and following him up the stairs. You ignored Derek’s worried look, instead choosing to straighten your shoulders and stoically look ahead.

This was but an extension of the interview with Dr Johnson. You could do this even if the man terrified and intrigued you more than he should.

You had barely stepped foot in his office when he sat down. “Close the door. Sit down.”

You did, feeling much smaller than you had in Dr Johnson’s office. His lips were tight and he looked incredibly displeased, even for Hotch’s standards. You must have majorly messed up.

His hands were clasped in front of him and your eyes fell to his fingers. You swallowed heavily, hands wringing in your lap as you waited for him to start talking.

“Dr Johnson just informed me that a written evaluation of your performance on this team is being requested.”

“Sir, I can explain, I –“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing you and your mouth snapped shut.

“You do not need to explain anything,” he said calmly, “Dr Johnson is only doing her job and after what happened last week, it might not be such a bad idea.”

You nodded, trying to not seem as nervous as you were.

“Do not worry yourself over it. I meant what I said in Kansas,” he stated, facial expression unreadable, “You are a valuable addition to this team and I look forward to seeing your contributions in the future.”

“Yes, Sir,” you looked down on your hands, trying to hide your nervousness, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me Hotch.”

“Yes, Si- Hotch,” you corrected yourself with a sheepish smile. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looked at you. And fuck, it should be forbidden to look this good. You froze, licking your lips and hoping you would be able to blame it on the dryness of your lips instead of you imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth on yours.

Not the time, a rational part of your brain reminded you, So not the fucking time.

Shuffling through the crowded metro you pressed your phone to your ear.

“I promise, it is all right, mom,” you assured her, letting yourself fall into one of the free seats, keeping your bag pressed against your chest. An elderly woman threw you an offended look and shuffled away from you as if you had any interest in stealing her dog off her hands.

“I am just worried, honey,” your mom said on the other side of the phone, “We are all worried. It is a hard job, isn’t it? And why do they keep putting you up for evaluations? You haven’t even been there for a full year!”

“Mom –“

“Are you okay?” she interrupted you in that voice that only your mom had, “Truly okay?

Your head fell against the window of the wagon, the heaviness of the day washing over you. You took a shuddering breath, “No, Mom, I – I don’t think I am.”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. She was disappointed and worried, you could hear it already and it did not help to calm the anxiety raging in your stomach. You could almost see her in front of you, the pity in her eyes and the little furrow between her brows.

“You can always come home, hon, you know that, right?” she asked carefully and you cringed at how quiet she was being, “We can still find somewhere else for you to work. A nice option. You can come back home and dad and I will help you. I know it can take some time to find a good position. But you had so much fun doing literature, why not go back to it? You don’t have to stick there if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“But it does make me happy, mom,” you protested, wincing at how desperate you sounded, before adding quietly, “Saving people is what I want to do. And I can do it.”

“I am not saying you can’t, sweetie,” she assured you, “But maybe it is not what you should do with your life, hm?”

You could see that the light was on in the living room when you entered the small hallway. The sounds of the TV washed over your ears and you smiled.

“I’m home!”

A non-committal grunt answered you and you grinned, knowing that he was probably too entranced in whatever crime show he was currently watching. You let your keys fall onto the little side table and made sure to lock the deadbolt before making your way to Josh.

Your heels made clicking sounds on the floor and you took care to be as quiet as possible. “Hi,” you grinned, waving at him.

Josh was tall and lanky. And despite being offended if you ever told him that – looked exactly like one would imagine a law student to look. He was always well dressed and took great care when it came to all things cultural. He drank the best wine, read all the important books, watched all the niche movies to impress people.

Sometimes you joked that of the two of you, he was the one who could be expected to work for a government institution.

“It’s late,” he commented, nodding to the screen, “You’re usually here by the second episode.”

“I wanted to get some reports done,” you explained, shrugging out of your coat, “Had a chat with my boss today again. I thought it might be better to not give any more opportunities to criticize me. How was your day?”

“Boring,” he replied, “Attended that one event about intellectual property and want to lunch with a few friends from uni. You should come with us sometime, you will like them.”

You nodded, already thinking ahead of a day when you would have enough free time to join him and his friends. Dr Jones’ words about having a strong social life to fall back to echoed in your mind and you decided to make more of an effort to make friends.

It would be all right.

There was some Chinese takeout in Josh’s lap and you spotted a few grocery bags in the small hallway to your room and the kitchen.

“Did you get me the bananas like I asked?” you asked, slipping out of your heels.

Josh kept munching on his noddle, making a vague gesture that led you into the kitchen. And there, on the tiny dining table were two green bananas.

“They are not even ripe yet,” you called into the living room, “And I asked for four bananas, not two.”

“What do you need them for anyway?”

“I wanted to bake banana bread,” you said, turning to get out some flour and chocolate chips, “It’s an easy breakfast to have in the metro.”

Josh sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing himself onto the black dining chair. “You barely eat at home anyway, that’ll just go to waste.”

“Which is exactly why it is nice to have something ready to eat on the go,” you explained, wondering if he had overheard your words.

Cracking two eggs into a bowl, you hummed. “I could bring it into the office,” you mused, starting to mush up the bananas, “I think JJ mentioned she liked it once.”

“To the colleagues that despise you?”

You frowned, “They don’t despise me. They are very nice to me, Josh.”

Josh took the last bite of his noodles, setting down the little container “By the way, Greg is coming over tonight.

“But it’s almost midnight,” you stated, throwing a confused look towards the clock, just to make sure, “Didn’t you say you will leave for that Seattle trip tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if it gets too late he will just stay on the couch,” Josh replied, shrugging. You nodded, not saying anything but knowing deep down that George would occupy the bathroom that morning so you would have to get up even earlier than normal.

That would be a stressful day.

#maybege writes #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader

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agent-whiskeys-sweetheart · 3 years ago

Text

Meant To Be (ii)

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: Over a year after your first interaction with the BAU, it is finally time for your first day as an official team member. Even with all the excitement of the day, the biggest thing you look forward to is seeing Aaron Hotchner again. However, your perfect first day quickly turns out to be not at all what you had imagined.

Warnings: None, some angst?

Word Count: 5,585

A/N: Just know that I promise things are going to get better lol.

NOVEMBER 2007

QUANTICO, VA

For the first time in your life the sound of your alarm is a very welcome one as it rouses you from your light slumber. The whole room is filled with light as the sun streams through the cracked blinds. You had been in this apartment for two months now. It had taken some getting used to but it was starting to feel like home. That was very important to you seeing as Quantico was where you were going to be for the foreseeable future. It took you no time at all to sit up in bed, throwing off your blanket. When you got up to start getting ready, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. Your clothes draped over the chair at the end of the bed, your go-bag on top of the dresser, and your entry paperwork out on the kitchen table. As always, you had thought out every minute detail. You are determined to make sure that your first day at the BAU is perfect. It had taken excruciatingly hard work and dedication to get to where you are now. Nothing and no one is going to spoil it for you.

After getting dressed in record time you grab your go-bag off the dresser and head out to the living room. You set it on the table next to your paperwork and make your way into the kitchen. Scrambled eggs and toast sound like a good way to start the morning so you get out a skillet and a few eggs. Before you even have a chance to turn on the burner the sound of your phone going off in your bedroom causes you to run back in to check it. As you pull it off the charger you immediately smile widely at the name that flashes on your screen.

“Hey there Miss FBI Agent. God, that sounds good doesn’t it? FBI agent. Or maybe BAU agent. Didn’t I hear you say SSA once? What does that mean? Is it good? It sounds pretty powerful.”

“It means Supervisory Special Agent. And anything you call me that means I’m not hallucinating this whole thing is fine with me.”

“I like that. SSA Y/N L/N. Sounds official. Which is exactly what you are as of today! How are you feeling right now?”

“Excited. Prepared. Kind of like I’m on top of the world.”

“As you should! It’s been a long journey to get here, you deserve to enjoy every step. I still can’t believe my little sister is in the FBI.”

Your sister has been your biggest support system for as long as you can remember. No matter what path you choose, you know she will always have your back. It had been heartbreaking to leave her when you moved but you knew it would be worthwhile in the end. Today is when it finally pays off. She has called you almost every day so even though you are states apart, she is never truly absent. Hearing her voice now, getting the chance to share this moment with her, is more important to you than you know how to express.

“I can’t believe that you’re awake before noon.” This earns a scoff.

“I will have you know that I set an alarm for 5:30 so I would be awake in time to tell you good morning before you head off to work.”

“That’s very sweet of you. I’m really glad you called.”

“Hey, there’s no way in hell I was gonna miss your first day!”

“I appreciate that. It means a lot to have your support.”

“Of course! I will always give it freely. Besides, this is too cool not to talk about. You get to catch bad guys. You now have special government access. Plus you can basically read minds. You’re a real life superhero. How totally awesome is that?”

“Oh, I know. Why do you think I wanted the job? I’m glad you’re able to see its merits. Most people find it very morbid. Or boring.”

“Well most people aren’t us.” Glancing over at the clock, you can’t help a small sigh from leaving your chest. Your sister of course catches on. “Do you have to go?”

“Yeah. I only have about 15 minutes. Thank you so much for calling though! I always look forward to hearing from you.”

“Well I don’t have any patients today and I expect you to call me later tonight so we can talk about everything, okay?”

“Okay, it’s a plan. I love you.”

“I love you too. Have a great first day.” You hang up quickly, making your way back into the kitchen to put away what you had gotten out. Instead you pull out a few granola bars to eat on the way. Even though this isn’t quite what you had planned you don’t mind one bit. Talking to your sister is more important. You briefly wonder if she took today off just so she could be there for you or if it is just a coincidence. If it was on purpose, you wouldn’t be surprised. It had always been kind of funny to you what careers both of you had chosen. She is a therapist. You are a profiler. While the two do have distinct differences there are also a lot of striking similarities. It’s just funny how life works out sometimes. Never what you expect.

You head into the bedroom to grab your go-bag, making sure everything you need is in there. Picking up the paperwork from the table, you head out the door and downstairs to your car. After loading your things up, you turn on the radio to the most uplifting station you can find. This is the kind of morning where nothing less than radiant positivity is welcomed. It’s the first day of your new life and you are going to make the most of it, even if it kills you.

The drive seems to go by in an instant and soon you find yourself in the parking lot of the BAU headquarters. There is still confidence bubbling inside of you but seeing the building right there in front of you causes the nerves to kick in as well. It seems so much bigger to you now. With a deep breath, you realize you need a little boost from your good luck charm. The small compartment on top of your dashboard opens with a click and you pull out the piece of paper inside. It feels good to have in your hands and you read the name at the top over and over again. Aaron Hotchner. His business card had stayed in your car all these years and whenever you felt nervous or unsteady, you pulled it out and for some reason it always calmed you. You were grateful to have it now more than ever.

Feeling renewed, you set the card back in its cubby and get out of the car. Things in hand, you stride right up to the front doors and let yourself inside. Once inside the main lobby you head over to the front desk, where a man asks for your ID. Reaching into the front pocket of your go bag you pull out the badge you had collected weeks in advance. A feeling of power washes over you when he clears you, much like a year and a half ago when you had stepped inside the Fort Worth precinct. However, it was a much more intense feeling now.

The journey towards the main offices of the BAU feels like a dream. The elevator carries you to the right floor and you float towards the glass doors that lead into your new workspace. Inside, it is bright and full of life. People move past you with such fluidity that it seems almost like a dance and baby, you are ready to tango.

Soon your attention is being commanded by a friendly voice you recognize very quickly. “Well, look who it is!”

Morgan makes his way towards you, a wide grin on his face. He looks just how you remember. You are glad the first person to greet you is someone you know. Now standing in front of you, he raises his arms and his expression changes as he silently asks for your permission. With a nod, you reach out as well as he pulls you in for a hug.

“It’s nice to see you again sweetheart. I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna show up.” Laughing lightly at this, you feel yourself relaxing. “Look at you, all professional. How does it feel?”

“Completely liberating. It feels like it took me a lifetime to get here and now that I am, I can’t wait to get started.”

“Well, you’re gonna get your chance sooner than you think. We just got a case this morning. They called us in a little early to debrief us. We’ll fill you in on the jet. It’s go time baby.” He lightly pats your arm with a smile as he leads you over to where the rest of the team is, all sat at their desks. Spencer and JJ you recognize but there’s one face that you haven’t seen before. “Look who finally made it.”

JJ stands quickly to give you a hug, patting your back. “Leave her alone. She was doing a lot of hard work to get here. She doesn’t deserve to be teased in her first ten minutes on the job.” She says to Morgan, shooting him a playful glare. “Welcome. We’re really excited to have you here. You’re going to make a wonderful addition to the team. If you ever need anything just let me know, okay?”

“I will. Promise. Thanks.” Spencer is the next to stand, extending his hand to you. Taking it in your own, you nod respectfully. You don’t linger, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Hi. Sorry, I’m not much of a hugger.”

“Oh, no need to be sorry. I definitely get it. It’s nice to see you again. I know we didn’t really get a chance to talk the last time we saw each other but I’m hoping to change that now that we’re coworkers.”

“Of course. I would like that.” There is still a slight awkwardness in the way he smiles but not nearly as much so as when you first met him. He’s the only one of the three that you don’t feel much of a connection with but you are determined to change that. These were your peers now. Your new family. It was important to you that you get to know all of them. It was jarring at first seeing how familiar they are with you already but it doesn’t take long for you to become comfortable as well. However you quickly remember that there is one person you still haven’t met. Turning to her, you extend your hand.

“Hello. I’m Y/N L/N.” She shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Emily Prentiss. These guys seem to have the advantage here. How do you all know each other?”

“Oh, I shadowed them about a year and a half ago now while I was still a student. Today is my first day as a member of the team.”

“That’s wonderful! Well, I’m excited to get to know you as well.” She offers a welcoming smile, one you appreciate. As you look around the bullpen you take note of the fact that Elle is nowhere to be found. At the moment you feel it isn’t your place to bring this up, so you simply smile at the people who are with you now.

“So, I hear we’ve got a case.” You begin, desperately wanting to learn everything you can now so you can fully prepare yourself.

“Yeah,” JJ answers. “It’s a string of high level armed robberies in Los Angeles. Nobody has been able to identify or apprehend any of the unsubs. There are five of them. All of the robberies were almost identical except for the last one. Someone was shot and killed. That’s when the authorities invited us to work the case.”

“Sounds like fun, huh?” Derek chimes in, jabbing you with his elbow.

“I don’t know if fun is the right word. Interesting sounds better, I think. I’m ready to get started though.”

“Yeah, I see that,” He gestures to your go-bag. “Good thing you’re all packed. That was a smart choice. They don’t always tell you to bring a bag on the first day. You’re all over it though.”

“Well, you only get one shot at a first impression. I wanted to be seen as professional. Plus I am very rarely unprepared for things.”

“Good. That’s a pretty good philosophy to hang onto, especially in this profession. The more prepared you are going into it, the better equipped you are to handle the stressors of the job. There’s a lot of tough things you’re gonna have to deal with but if you charge head first with a clear sense of where you’re going and what you’re doing, it’ll take a lot of the anxiety out of it.” You listen intently as he speaks with a tone of sincerity you have not yet heard from him. When he sees you staring at him, he chuckles. “First tip is free but next time I’m gonna charge you. Good advice like that doesn’t come cheap.”

“Okay, good to know.” You laugh, looking towards the others with a smile. “How about you guys? Any free tips for the newbie?”

“Yeah,” Emily chimes in. “Don’t listen to anything Morgan says.” This causes him to roll his eyes jokingly. “Although here’s a real piece of advice. No matter what happens, no matter how hard the job gets, don’t forget who you are. Don’t let this work compromise your beliefs and your morals. There are going to be times when you rethink what you know but don’t let the awful things you see harden you and turn you into someone you’re not. I can already see that you have a real light and kindness about you. Never let the bad people take that away from you or else they win.” Hearing this, your expression softens. For only having known you for a few minutes, Emily already seems to have bonded with you. Enough to give you such important advice. Her words linger in your head for a moment.

“I’ll definitely remember that.” JJ places a hand on your arm.

“Can I add something?” You nod eagerly, wanting to soak up all of the knowledge that you possibly can from these people. “My advice would be to talk to your loved ones as often as you can. Trust me, you’ll definitely want to after some of the stuff that we see. Talking to someone outside of work and grounding yourself in those relationships will help keep you sane. You’re going to be really grateful for a strong support system later on.”

“Luckily I do have a really strong support system in my sister. She basically raised me. She’s my best friend. It was hard to leave her but I know she still supports my decision.”

“That’s so great. I’m really glad you have someone like that.” You nod, feeling a small tinge of sadness when you think about how much you wish she was here with you. However, it passes quickly when Morgan puts his hand on your shoulder as a sign of comfort. The gesture is simple but calming, almost as if he’s telling you that he is a part of your support system now too. You know the people surrounding you will have your back. That thought lifts your spirits immeasurably.

“What about you? I’m sure I could get some good advice from a genius.” You say to Spencer after clearing your throat.

He chuckles lightly and thinks for a moment. “I guess I would say don’t let your age stop you from reaching your potential. You and I are the same age so I think I know to some extent how nerve wracking all this must be. Just know that even though you are young you have a lot of skills and abilities to bring to the table. Chase after what you want and soak up everything you can now. I’m obviously a strong believer in the collection of knowledge so the more you learn the better off you’ll be later. And you have as much right to be here as anyone else. You’ve done the work so believe in your own skills.” The three of you watch him for a moment and he looks between you. “But, hey, what do I know.” His joke makes you laugh.

“No, that’s really good advice. Thank you.” Before you have a chance to say anything else, a voice from behind causes all of you to stop.

“What’s all the commotion out here?” Turning around quickly you see an older man with dark hair standing on the walkway that wraps around the bullpen. His eyebrows are raised as he begins making his way towards you. Upon seeing him you put on your best professional face but the others seem to stay relaxed as he walks over to you. Once he’s standing next to you he offers you his hand. “Hello.” You take it quickly, shaking hands with him as you maintain eye contact. Unsure of who this man is, you are afraid to make a bad impression. As you look into his eyes there is something so strikingly familiar about him but you aren’t quite sure what it is. “Who might you be?”

“Sorry, sir. I am Y/N L/N. Today is my first day as a member of the BAU. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His dark expression immediately lightens as he gives you a small smile.

“Ah. It’s nice to meet you as well. Sorry to scare you. I just have to keep these trouble makers in line from time to time.” Seeing him smile causes you to grin as well, beginning to relax again.

“Of course. It’s not a problem at all sir.”

“Well I’m David Rossi. Welcome to the BAU, I guess would be an appropriate introduction. I promise I’m not always so scary.”

“Just most of the time.” Derek adds, causing David to give him a look.

“Please ignore him. I like to think I’m a nice man. I don’t want to scare you off on your first day.” At this you can’t help but laugh.

“Oh trust me sir, you won’t. I’ve worked really hard to get here. There’s no getting rid of me now.” This causes him to laugh.

“That’s a good attitude to have. It’ll get you pretty far in this career. Keep working, keep putting the bad people away. It may take a while but it’s a gratifying feeling. In the meantime, just keep your chin up and you’ll be just fine. You seem like a bright kid.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

“Please, you can call me Rossi. Everyone else does.”

“Okay. Rossi. Thanks.” With a warm smile he pats your arm.

“If you want a prime example of working hard to get ahead, look at Hotch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that man not at work. That’s why he’s the boss.” Derek says. His words make your breath hitch. Just the mention of his name makes you nervous. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him and you only spent time together for one day but even so he has been such a huge inspiration to you. And seemingly for good reason. You already know that Hotchner is going to be the man to impress around here but you don’t mind that much.

“Speaking of, have you spoken with Hotch yet today?” Rossi asks.

“No. I actually have some paperwork that I need to give to him before we leave, clearing me to travel and all of that. Could I possibly see him now?” You try not to sound too desperately hopeful.

“Yeah, of course. His office is right up there.” Rossi points to a door across the room. With a deep breath you nod in gratitude and then begin making the walk over to his office. It seems like an endless journey as you remind yourself over and over again that he’s just a person and you don’t need to be so afraid. Or nervous. Excited? Infatuated? Whatever the feeling is, it’s overwhelming. Once you’re outside his door, you close your eyes and breath before knocking. His voice is clear coming from the other side as he tells you to come in.

Opening the door cautiously, you step inside with paperwork in hand. Hotch is sitting at his desk filling something out, not looking up.

“Good morning sir.” Upon hearing your voice he looks quickly up at you. His eyes are just as dark and intense as you dreamed, fixated completely on you. The two of you maintain eye contact for a moment and the world is nothing but him. Suddenly realizing what you’re doing you force yourself to snap out of it, reminding yourself that this man is your boss and you’re acting like a lunatic.

“Good morning.” He says simply, not moving as he watches you intently. Willing yourself to gather up all of your confidence, you walk over to stand right in front of his desk.

“It’s really lovely to see you again. Being here is like a dream. At the BAU, I mean. I’ve been looking forward to it for so long, I almost can’t believe that I’m here. Now that I am though, I’m ready to work. I plan to earn your trust now just like I did the last time we worked together. I won’t let you down.” With a sudden flush of embarrassment, you grip the papers tightly. You have only been in his office for a few seconds and already you have completely exploded in excitement. Taking another breath, you calm yourself. “Sorry sir. I’m just very excited to be here. If you couldn’t tell.”

There is another moment of silence as Hotch’s eyes stay locked on yours, scrutinizing your expression with calm intensity. For a second you can almost see him thinking, as though he’s working something out in his head though you aren’t quite sure what that is. After a moment he stands up, putting you both on equal footing. Everything about him commands your focus and attention. A quiet prayer hangs on your lips as you wait for him to say your name again after all this time. Just once is all you need and then you’d be happy. No more daydreams, no more delusions, no more distractions. Just once and you can do your job. If only he’d quit staring at you so deeply and tell you exactly what you want to hear.

“I do appreciate your heartfelt words ma’am but I’m afraid I’m at a loss. I’m not sure I know who you are.” With that your heart drops. Of all the things he could have possibly said, this was the most disappointing. It’s such a small sentence but it is a mighty blow.

“I’m sorry?” You inquire, hoping that maybe you misunderstood.

“I’m really very sorry ma’am but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not sure we’ve ever met.” Nope, you had understood what he was saying perfectly much to your dismay.

“My name is Y/N L/N sir. We did meet a little over a year ago now. You came to my hometown to work on a case and I spent the day shadowing you. I was a student at the time. Today is my first day here as a team member.” Hotch says nothing in response for a time, his expression exposing what seems to be a deep sense of regret.

“I apologize. We go through a lot of cases, it’s difficult for me to keep track of all the people that come and go in my life.” That is all you need to hear to shut down any further fantasizing. You had come and gone from his life a long time ago. Frankly you feel foolish for indulging these thoughts anyway. It was one day a year ago. There is nothing to look into. He is your boss now, not some high school crush. This is a professional environment. This would be for the better anyway. At least those are the sorts of things you tell yourself. “I really don’t mean any offense. It’s nice to meet you. Needless to say we’ll get to know each other now since we’ll be working together. Welcome to the team.” He tries to soften his expression but there is still a severity to it that doesn’t ease the knot in your stomach.

“It’s really my fault, sir. I shouldn’t have expected you to remember me. It was a long time ago and you’re a very busy man. No offense taken. I’m excited to work with you.” Trying to change the subject, you extend your paperwork towards him. “Here’s all of my entry paperwork. It gives me authorization to travel, my medical and professional history is there as well. All I need is your signature and I will be clear to begin working.” Looking through it quickly he nods before signing each of the necessary lines. He hands it back to you and you nod awkwardly before deciding to merely head towards the door. “Thank you sir. I’ll take this to the front desk really quickly and I’ll be good to work this latest case. I’ve already brought a go-bag.”

“Oh, you won’t be needing a go-bag.” This stops you in your tracks.

“I won’t?” You ask, turning to face him.

“No, you won’t. You’re not travelling with us for the case.” Every dream you’d had about your first day at the BAU is crumbling around you with every word that comes out of his mouth.

“Can I ask why, sir?” Leaning down to open a cabinet, he pulls out his own go-bag and unzips it to check its contents. This simple act of dismissal is enough to make you feel an inch tall.

“It’s only your first day, I don’t hardly know anything about you. I don’t feel comfortable taking an agent into the field that is practically a stranger to me and to the rest of my team. It will only compromise your safety and the safety of others. When I get back, we’ll have a discussion and see where you’re at when the next case rolls around.”

“But sir,” For a second your own words ring in your head. You’re the boss. No explanation necessary. You are not the kind of person that questions authority. You never have been and you thought you never would be but hearing your new boss say this to you makes your blood boil for some reason. It’s like Spencer said. You have as much right to be here as anyone else and you have not gone through seven years of grueling work to be put on the sidelines from day one. “I have studied and trained for a long time. I put in the work, the same as the rest of you and that’s why I’m here. I didn’t just show up on accident, it’s because I’m good at what I do. I have all the paperwork and I am prepared to put in the effort on this case.” His movements have stopped now and his eyes stay locked on yours, unable to look away as you speak. Once you’re finished he breaks away and sighs deeply.

“I am not disputing any of that but I am responsible for the safety of my team and now that includes you. It would make me feel much better if I could talk with you before sending you to the front lines. I’m on your side here even if it doesn’t seem like it. But at the end of the day I am your boss and I have final say. The answer is no. I want to like you, Y/N. Don’t give me reason to distrust you on your first day.”

“Yes sir,” Is all you are able to mutter as you feel yourself deflate. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” The shift in your demeanor must have been palpable because his expression suddenly softens and a hint of a smile ghosts over his lips as he walks over to you.

“I know you didn’t. I’m sorry to disappoint you but you’ll have your chance soon enough.” With that, he grabs his bag and walks out of the office. In no more than ten minutes all of your big hopes and dreams for your perfect first day at the BAU were crushed. Everything has been happening so fast that it still seems like it might not be real. It’s all you can do to walk back out into the bullpen. Derek is the first one to notice your mood shift.

“What happened?” With a forced smile you shake your head.

“I’m not going to be joining you guys. The boss doesn’t feel comfortable letting me into the field just yet. I guess it makes sense.” Hearing this, Derek, JJ, and Spencer all three share a confused look.

“It actually doesn’t make that much sense. If you’ve got the paperwork, you are clear to go in the field. Everything should be in order. I’m not sure why he would wanna keep you behind. You’ll learn more in the field than you will sitting here.” Emily and JJ nod in agreement and you shrug off his questioning.

“It is what it is. I’ll just have to make the most out of it.” You quiet down but he can see that there is still something upsetting you.

“Okay, come on. What else happened?” The expression on his face is one of determination as he stares you down, waiting for an answer.

“It’s nothing really. It’s just that he didn’t remember me and I was a little disappointed. That’s all. It’s not really a big deal.”

“No, that is definitely a big deal. Hotch is not a forgetful man. Especially when it comes to people. If he worked one on one with you a year ago and he knew you were going to be a future member of his team, he would have paid especially close attention to you. That just definitely doesn’t seem right to me.” As much as you agreed with him you decided now wasn’t the time to push the issue.

“Well, I’m sure he just had a lot on his mind. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, good luck guys. I’ll see you when you get back.” The look on Derek’s face indicates that he wants to continue the conversation but he doesn’t. The three of them grab their go-bags and head to the door. Following them you smile when Derek gives you a side hug.

“We’ll all go get a drink when we get back. I promise.” You nod.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Before he can walk out the doors with the others you stop him. “Hey. Thanks. I know we still don’t know each other that well but I appreciate you making me feel welcome.”

“No problem, kid. You’re one of us now. We have to protect our own.” With one last smile he disappears through the main doors. Stepping out after him you stop when you see Hotch standing right outside the doors. With a small breath you walk over to him.

“You’ll be working with our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. Go down to the bottom floor. Her office will be the third door on the right when you get off the elevator. She’ll introduce herself. She’s very friendly. We’ll speak when I get back.” With that, he too disappears.

In little more than thirty minutes, your perfect day is ruined before it has even really begun. Thoughts spin inside your head faster than you can comprehend. It feels like your fault for letting your expectations get so high. There is no way of erasing it. No matter how many good days you have from here on out, your first day at the BAU will always be a sad memory. It hadn’t been all bad of course. It had been nice to talk with the other team members for the short time that you had. However, that feeling was quickly ruined by your interaction with Hotchner. He was one of the main reasons you were so excited to begin working. You were sure that he would have some inspirational words of advice for you but all he had done was make you feel belittled. There was no way of taking that back. Now you were side lined for your very first case and it was completely out of your control. You really wish you had your good luck charm right about now. Something tells you you’re going to need it now more than ever. The Hotch that exists within that business card is the one you want to linger in your memories. The respectful and professional agent who had made you feel so respected and appreciated. That is the Hotch you need right now but that isn’t the man you’d spoken with today. That is what broke your heart more than anything. With one last longing look at the main doors you gather yourself up and head down to meet Penelope Garcia.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ssahotchie @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester @hotch-stufff

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Twisted [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: So, here we go! 😁 Thank you so much for your wonderful support and lovely messages during my break my loves, they mean so much to me and ily! ❤ On my break, I binged a lot of shows, and Criminal Minds and Prodigal Son were two of them, but if you haven’t watched them don’t worry because it will not be following a specific canon plot😁❤Please let me know what you think and enjoy!❤

Warnings: Murder, drug use, serial killers, violence, manipulation

Summary: No one can choose their family.

If it were another time, you could’ve at least attempted to convince yourself how everyone had problematic childhoods. Focusing on something else usually worked, per the advices of countless psychiatrists your mother had forced you to go after the-

Incident.

Just the thought of it was more than enough to make your blood freeze in your veins, but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts when your phone started ringing. You checked the caller I.D, and heaved a sigh before you touched the screen.

“Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re not going there.” Your mother’s voice filled the car and you pressed your lips together.

“Hi mom.”

“Every time you go there and visit that man in that wretched prison cell of his, he manages to get into your head!”

“That’s not what’s going to happen,” you said, keeping your eyes on the road, “You have no reason to worry.”

“I have every reason to worry!” she snapped, “We promised that we wouldn’t let him worm his way into our lives.”

“Yeah well, FBI begs to differ,” you forced yourself to say, “You’ve seen the news—“

“I don’t want to hear this,” she cut you off, then heaved a sigh, “It’s terrible enough to hear it once, let alone twice.”

You never really had the luxury of ignoring all the terrible things on the news, especially after what had happened. Ever since you were a child, the nightmares wouldn’t leave you alone, and you weren’t as good as your mother at ignoring what was happening while you were awake.

“You could’ve said no.”

“I really couldn’t,” you mumbled and she clicked her tongue.

“Well then,” she said, trying to pull herself together, “I expect to see you at brunch, even your sister is coming. It won’t take long, will it?”

“It won’t take long to see my serial killer father and find out whether he is helping another serial killer even if he’s been behind bars for years?” you asked, “No mom. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sarcasm will give you wrinkles.”

“Oh yeah, tragedy.”

“Call me as soon as you leave there,” she insisted, making you smile. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said as you pulled over in front of the building. Even the sight of it was enough to make your stomach flip and you felt the bile climbing up your throat.

You did not want to see him.

You had managed not to see him for years now, but now, the news were full of different coverage about a killer whose method of killing was very similar to him.

A flower left in the crime scene, every damn time.

Naturally, FBI wanted a word with the original killer. Less naturally, the original killer refused to speak unless he talked to his younger daughter, who happened to be you.

Unfortunately.

Yet, the sooner you walked in, the sooner you would walk out, and that was the only thing that offered any kind of consolation.

“God damn it,” you mumbled to yourself as you left your car, and made your way into the building. They patted you down, made you go through the x-ray and sign the papers before you entered the hall.

There were two men that weren’t in official prison guard clothes, which made you think these were the FBI agents you had talked to on the phone. For some reason, you hadn’t pictured them like this, but you didn’t know any agents so maybe this was the norm.

If it were any other time, you could’ve noticed how handsome they both were, but your mind was way too occupied.

“Ma’am,” the dark haired one stepped closer to you, “I’m Special Agent Luke Alvez, this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Even if Agent Alvez looked like the ideal FBI agent that was pulled out of an action movie, Dr. Reid looked more like a young, handsome professor, the ones that you dreamed would be at your university when you were still at high school.

Needless to say, that fantasy hadn’t come true much to your disappointment.

You shook your head, trying to focus.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You shook hands with him, and smiled at Dr Reid, “Hello.”

“Thank you for coming.” His smile was soft, much like his gaze, “I imagine it’s not easy for you.”

You forced yourself to shrug, “Yeah it’s…” you trailed off and cleared your throat, “It’s fine.”

“So far we have seen five murders all over the country, in different areas but the crime scene has your father’s signature. It most likely means there are multiple copycat killers, and given your father’s past, he might be the mastermind behind it. He contacted us, but refuses to say anything unless he spoke to you.”

The goosebumps rising on your arms felt almost familiar.

“I haven’t been educated in any interrogation techniques.” You said, “And knowing him, he’s not just going to give that information to me.”

“People give information about a lot of things even when they don’t realize it.” Dr Reid said, “We will be outside, watching and listening.”

“I’ll talk to the guards to see if he’s ready, excuse me.” Alvez said and he walked away while you nibbled on your lip.

“How does a serial killer have this many privileges?” Reid asked you, “He has a private cell, books, TV…”

“Money,” you said slowly, “Money buys lawyers, lawyers buy freedom. Or the closest thing to freedom, given the circumstances. If you ask me, he should’ve been rotting in a hole but...” you trailed off, leaning back to the wall and took a deep breath, counting in your head.

“That’s a good exercise to calm down,” Reid said and your head shot up.

“What?”

“The 4 7 8 breathing exercise. I’m guessing a psychiatrist taught you that.”

“Several psychiatrists taught me that,” you stated, raising your brows, “You’re observant aren’t you professor?”

“Doctor.”

You clenched an unclenched your fists, your eyes darting around the hall,

“This is not helping,” you said as you exhaled a breath, “I need a cigarette, or twenty.”

“What do you do?” his question was so out of nowhere that you gawked at him for a moment.

“What?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a— I’m a wedding planner.”

He tilted his head, “What’s that?”

“Well you…you know, you help the couples with color palettes, decoration, overall aesthetic, and during the wedding you make sure nothing goes wrong with the venue and the food and the music, all that. You make sure the wedding is perfect, basically.”

He hmmed, “How do I tell if a wedding is perfect? If we were talking sense wise?”

“Well first of all, in terms of looks, the colors need to complement each other,” you said, remembering your favorite events, “When you walk in, you see the garden and it’s well lit, but not too bright. In terms of touch, I guess you would make sure the table covers and such are soft to touch. The music should be slow at first, at least until it starts.”

“How about smell?”

“You can’t really go wrong with faint flower scents. Scented candles are a nice touch too.”

“The food?”

“Something light, most of the time. No one wants to get into a food coma at a wedding and you—“ you stopped as your eyes snapped up to his, a small smile playing at his lips.

He was making you list all the things that would ground you without making you realize you were doing it, so that you wouldn’t lose yourself in panic. It was yet another trick your psychiatrists had told you to do whenever you felt overwhelmed, talking about what you could see, hear, smell, touch and taste. By making you focus on a pleasant memory and remember all those, he was offering you a safe place in your own mind.

But contrary to any doctor, he didn’t make it obvious.

“Well played, professor.”

This time, he didn’t correct you,

“Grounding works most of the time,” he stated as Agent Alvez approached you, “I know this situation is less than ideal, but we will be right outside. You can walk out any time you want.”

“They’re ready.” Agent Alvez said and you nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, then followed them to the door. Alvez opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, digging your fingernails into your palm.

His hair had more grays since you had last seen him, and his beard was longer, but that dangerous light in his eyes hadn’t changed. He looked up, a wide smile appearing on his face as his eyes searched yours.

“Sweetheart!” he said cheerfully, raising his hands a little so that you could see the chains attached to his handcuffs, “It’s been a while, wouldn’t you say?”

Pretending to be calm was something you had practiced so many times that your body knew automatically what to do. The door closed behind you and you swallowed thickly, making sure your face didn’t show any feelings. You slowly approached the table to pull yourself a chair, then put your phone on the table and started the countdown.

He wanted five minutes, and you would be damned if you stayed there a second longer.

“You look so much like your mother,” your father shook his head, “It’s uncanny, really.”

You gritted your teeth, still glaring at him.

“Not your eyes though,” he smiled, “You got your eyes from me. The window to the soul, hm?”

“My soul has nothing to do with you.” The words left your lips before you could stop them and he tut tutted.

“My petal-“

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, “I hate that nickname.”

That didn’t seem to break his enthusiasm though, much to your displeasure.

“Well, we should catch up,” he said , clapping his hands together, “Are you still with that young man from last year? He’d better be treating you well.”

You blinked a couple of times, “How did you-?”

“I have my sources too.”

“Your sources are slow then.” You stated, “We broke up months ago. Is that all? You brought me here to just talk about my personal life?”

“Why did you break up?”

“Are you really behind all these murders happening right now?” you asked back and he shot you a reprimanding look.

“None of that right now, petal. Business and family shouldn’t be merged, as you know.”

You felt like you would throw up, but managed to hold it together and stole a look at the countdown.

“Why did you break up?”

“Certain differences,” you said, cracking your fingers to distract yourself, and he leaned back.

“I get that,” he said, “If you’re different, you’re different. I always felt that with your mother—“

“Stop that.” You spat out, “Anything I do, including my relationships, it has nothing to do with you. I’m nothing like you.”

“Oh but you are,” he said, “It’s all in your eyes. In that deadly glare of yours. It’s there, isn’t it? That anger? Try to hide it as much as you want, it’s still burning you.”

“There’s nothing burning me,” you said, “You’re fucked up, doesn’t mean I am too.”

“You know, there are many scientists that say murder is in the genes,” he stated, “So it would mean you’re contaminated too, no?”

The panic was pounding through your system, but you managed to keep your expression stable.

“Do you know why I didn’t ask your sister here? Or hell, your mother? Do you know why it is you?”

You stayed silent, your gaze focused on him.

“Your sister loved your mother, but you…. You were always such a daddy’s girl.”

“Wrong.”

“I don’t even think you cried for your mother whenever you scraped your knees, it was always me.”

“I didn’t know you were crazy when I was a child, guilty as charged. Doesn’t prove anything.”

“It does,” he said, “It proves more than you know. You are going to be my legacy.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine but you took a deep breath, resting your palms on the steel desk.

“No I won’t,” you said calmly, “Sorry to disappoint. I never killed anyone.”

Your father’s smile was almost as serene as your voice.

“Yet,” he pointed out, and you felt your throat tightening. “Ignore it if you want. It’s still there, petal.”

The beep of the phone made you snap out of it and you pushed your chair back, knocking it over in the process.

“Fuck you,” you said through your teeth as you gripped the door knob, “Have fun rotting in here.”

You swung the door open and stepped outside, still trying to catch your breath, and the door next to the interrogation room opened before Reid stepped into your vision. Your hands were still shaking and you desperately needed a cigarette and some fresh air.

But what you really needed was to get out of there.

“Y/N?”

“I hope you got whatever you guys needed,” you managed to say, wiping at your nose, “Because I’m never stepping a foot here, ever again.”

With that, you walked out of the hall, every cell in your body screaming at you to get away. You ignored the looks from the guards, tears blurring your vision and you left the building as fast as you could, as if someone was chasing you.

As if that could help you escape him.

Chapter 2

Taglist: @rhabakoli @theskytraveler @danyka-fendyr @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lettersofwrittencollective @dreamers-wonderland @lilliannaansalla @propertyofpoeandbucky @iblogabout-stuff @thinemineours @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @davnwillcome @chibi-liz05 @demigoddesofchimichangagod @finnickfoxes

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #mgg #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #reid x reader #reid imagine #reid imagines #twisted

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ssahotchhner · 4 years ago

Text

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.”

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.”

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you.

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.”

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

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