#i may still try my hand at subbing these but for now have them unsubbed

[mey-rin-is-fabulous]

Revolution

The Fes 2017

[scuttling]

All I Have To Give

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,096 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy kink, Dom/sub, Collar & leash, Oral sex, Deep throating, Restraints, Fingering, Cockwarming, Spanking, Unprotected sex, Come marking, Subspace, Subdrop, Aftercare Summary: A difficult case brings complex emotions, and Aaron is willing to do anything to help the woman he loves process them. *Prompted by @ssamorganhotchner and @angelhotchner and this Link to AO3 or read below! Even after all of his time at the BAU, Aaron knows he hasn’t seen it all, or even close to it—it seems like the atrocities just get worse every year, that humans never fail to find a new way to hurt one another, and that makes him and everyone else on the team constantly question everything they know. He’d like to say it gets easier, but it really doesn’t; you just find new ways to lean on your partners, new ways to cope with the horrors and indecencies the world has to offer.

The case they are currently working on is hitting one profiler especially hard, and because Aaron happens to be in love with her, it’s hitting him hard as well.

“I just can’t imagine waking up one morning and thinking you have your whole life ahead of you, and then some asshole decides he likes the way you look and wants to turn you into his property,” she murmurs that night when they are laying together in the hotel room they share. She had been so strong all day, as always, and then all but collapsed into tears the second the door was closed behind them. “It’s disgusting.”

“I know, baby; cases like these are some of the worst.” He rubs her back with strong hands, pulls her close to his chest. “What can I do for you? I hate to see you like this.” She sniffles, brushes a hand over her eyes, shakes her head.

“I don’t think there’s anything right now. Just being here with me like this, and talking to me, it’s helping. Thank you.” He sighs, because he knows when she gets this upset just talking it out isn’t usually enough, but he has to follow her lead; he just leans in to press his lips to hers, gentle and sweet, and she curls her fingers into his t-shirt and falls asleep with her head against his chest.

The next day, they apprehend the unsub after a standoff; unfortunately, he’d killed the girls when he heard on the police scanner that law enforcement was approaching—all twelve of them. She is the one to find them, and she gets sick, a first in her five years at the BAU. Aaron goes to her side, brings some water for her; her eyes are haunted when she looks up at him.

“Branded,” she croaks, and he doesn’t understand at first, until he looks more closely at the pile of bodies and sees the marks seared into their hips: DM—the unsub’s initials. He exhales deeply, and she turns around and gets sick again.

They take him back to the precinct, try to get a DNA sample, but he won’t agree until his lawyer is present; his story is that his property has been unoccupied for some time, and that he had no idea the girls were being held there, or by whom.

Aaron knows he shouldn’t let her interrogate him. He knows that, but she pleads, and that is something he’s always been unable to resist.

“Branding, huh? Are you that insecure—that worried that the women you called your property wanted nothing to do with you?” she asks, standing with her arms crossed.

“Do you mean my herd? I didn’t just call them my property, honey. They were my property. I owned them. The brands are for everyone else, not for me.” She slams her hands down on the table, sweeps them over the photos she’d laid out in front of him, and they go fluttering to the ground. He can’t see her face, but he knows from her tone that her jaw is clenched, her eyes ablaze.

“You did not own them. Ownership is granted, not taken, you pathetic excuse for a man.” He flexes his hands against the cuffs fixed to the table but says nothing. “You are so powerless that this is the only way you can get it up, isn’t it? By stealing women from their families, their lives, and pretending they’re yours.”

“They are mine!” he shouts, but then he takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “I took… the herd, from their meaningless, mundane lives, I brought them home, I gave them purpose. Being my property gave them value they didn’t have before.”

“And then you killed them, so what’s the value now? How dumb do you look?” She gets right up in his face, and hateful, misogynistic poison glints in his eyes, shows through the calm facade he tries so desperately to project. “It’s like burning your own house down, isn’t it? Only there’s no insurance money to collect here, Darren. All that’s left is your stupid ass and a pile of bodies with your fucking name on them.”

“Don’t call me stupid,” he mutters, and she drums her fingers on the tabletop, almost thoughtfully.

“What would you call it? Risking everything to abduct twelve women only to turn around and kill them so they can’t tell us what a pitiful human being you are?” She leans in closer, and he turns his neck to face away from her, like he’s trying to ignore her. “But the thing is, I don’t need them to tell me,” she whispers. “I know you were a disappointment to your father, a disgrace to your mother. I know the disgusting, depraved things you did to your sister, and now the whole world’s going to know. I’m going to tell everyone.”

Aaron can see the change in him from where he stands on the other side of the glass, and he glances at Morgan, then makes for the door. He’s just gotten it open when the man pulls back and spits on her cheek; she freezes, then reaches up, wipes it off, calm and collected, and grabs his jaw with the hand not covered in saliva.

“Guess what, Darren? You’re my property, now. Your ass belongs to the US Government, and I’m going to personally ensure you never see the light of day again.” She holds her hand up—covered in DNA evidence—and walks past Aaron, out the door. She is unusually quiet on the flight back to DC despite the successful interrogation, pensive and solitary; even on the ride from the airport back home she just leans toward him, silent, hand resting on his thigh, her eyes unfocused.

He knows how hard this case hit her, can only hope that she will open up to him when they get home so he can give her what she needs to get through it. He will do anything, just needs to hear it from her.

“Why don’t we take a bath?” he says softly when they get home, dropping their bags in the laundry room, and he brushes a hand over her cheek. “We can soak the day away, and then maybe if you’re feeling better we can talk about what I can do to help.”

She looks up at him, nods, and they rid each other of their clothes and he draws them a bath, hot and foamy with calming aromatherapy oils she enjoys. She lays along his body, curled up, head on his chest, and he holds her close, massages the back of her neck and her shoulders with gentle fingers.

When they get out and dry off, she heads for her closet, returns with a box as tall as a thick book, a little less wide; she sets it on the bed, perches next to it, and looks up at him with expectant eyes.

“What’s this, baby?” he asks, approaching, and he kneels down, puts his arm around her and sets a hand on the box. “Is it for me?”

“Yes, daddy. It’s for you to put on me. I bought it a few weeks ago, but I… I need it now.” He lifts the lid, pulls out what he thinks at first is a wrist cuff but is actually a thick leather collar, with two metal rings attached to the front, and a… a leash. It’s made of metal chain, not long, with a leather loop to hold, and to say he’s caught off guard by this gift would be an understatement.

“You want me to put this on you? Can I ask why?” She moves toward him, puts her hands on the collar too, looks up at him with wide, wet eyes.

“Because I’m not my own person. You own me.” She tilts her neck, bares it, clearly waiting for him to put it on her, but what she’s saying doesn’t sit right with him, too many parallels to the case that made her so physically and mentally unwell.

“Baby, you are your own person. I love you for exactly who you are, and I would never try to own you, to take who you are away from you.” He presses his palm to her cheek, and she leans into it, kisses it with soft, gentle lips.

“It’s not you taking, daddy, it’s me giving. I need to give this to you—it’s the most important thing I have, and I need you to let me give this to you.” He exhales deeply, still not sold on the idea; she may think she wants this in the moment, feeling low as she is, but, what if she changes her mind? What if she no longer trusts his judgement because he plays into this when she’s not at her most clear-headed?

“Are you sure?” he asks, looking into her eyes, checking them for hesitation, but she only nods; he moves his hand from her cheek, gently pulls the collar out of her grip and brings it to her throat, buckles it at the nape of her neck. She sighs, something like relief when he leans back; she wets her lips, and her eyes are heavy.

“You own me, daddy. I’m yours, see?” She tilts her neck again, but all he sees is that it’s tight against her skin, maybe uncomfortably so. He frowns.

“Is it too tight? It looks too tight. I think we should take it off; maybe we can try again another night, when you didn’t have such a hard day.” He moves his hands to the back of her neck, wants to unbuckle it, but she gets upset almost instantly, looking down at her empty hands like they’re causing her pain. He covers them with his own, shushes her softly. “Oh, what is it, sweet girl? Daddy’s right here, it’s okay.”

“I just wanted to please you, daddy. Your name is on me, and I thought you would like it, but if you don’t want me this way…” That makes him pause, and he brings her hands to his lips, kisses them.

“What do you mean, my name is on you? What does that mean, baby?” She pulls her hand out of his, moves her hair out of the way, and then he sees it: his initials, AH, embossed on the collar in silver script.

God, it’s no wonder she had such a visceral reaction to the branding. And it’s no wonder she is stressing wanting to give this to him, when the other women had their choices taken from them. She has a choice, and she’s making it, and all he has to do is accept the gift she’s trying so hard to give to him.

“Please, daddy. I need to give this to you,” she murmurs, further solidifying what he now knows, and he wraps the chain around his hand, pulls it tight, tugs her close for a kiss.

The easy way the tension leaves her body at the possessive gesture makes him groan, and he kisses her so long and hard that—between the kissing and the collar—she is already in subspace when he pulls back to let them catch their breath.

“You’re mine, baby girl; my name is on you. I own you.” She pants, nods, puts her hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes, so grateful, beautiful.

“Yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy. I’m yours so tell me what to do and I’ll do it, anything. Please.” He kisses her again, then climbs onto the bed, loosens his grip on the chain a bit and pulls her with him as he lays back against the pillows. Her gaze is warm, brilliant, and he guides her to kneel between his legs, drops the leash and takes the black hair tie off of her wrist to sweep her hair back into a ponytail. It’s by no means perfect, but she likes when he does it, knows what it means; she’s already staring at his cock, and he’s willing to bet her mouth is watering in anticipation.

“I want you to suck for me, sweet girl. Owned girl.” Her eyelashes flutter and she wets her lips, nods enthusiastically. She wraps one hand around his cock, presses the other against his thigh, and he picks up the chain again, tightens it as she drops to cover him with her mouth.

She starts with short, wet, slow strokes, looking up at him through her pretty lashes, and he’s reduced to just his love for her and his need to come, as always when she does this for him. He moans softly, reaches down a hand to squeeze her breast, to give her some contact and pleasure, and she whines, moves a little faster.

He wasn’t planning to come this way, but he can think of plenty of ways to keep her occupied and feeling good while he recovers, so he wraps the chain around his hand one more time, guides her down, so she’ll take him deeper. She can do it, has been trained at her own request, because almost nothing makes her wetter than having her mouth full of his cock.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for daddy. Can I come down your throat, baby? Can you take it?” She nods, bobs, and he yanks the chain just to see what she will do.

It turns her into a bit of a feral little monster, humping her hips against nothing, digging her nails into his thigh, doubling down on her efforts to make him come, and he just tips his head back and enjoys it, pinches her nipple between his fingers.

“Yes, sweet girl. So close. Keep moving your hips, baby; horny, desperate girl. Daddy will let you come soon, just keep going.” Perfect woman that she is, she hums around him, takes him deeper yet; the chain is wound so far around his hand he thinks absently that he may as well just hold onto her collar, and when he hooks his finger around the metal ring she looks up at him and moans.

He comes holding onto that ring, and when she is finished swallowing for him he pulls her up by it, kisses her passionately, gratefully, and whispers praise against her lips; she is soaking wet, he can feel it where she is sprawled on his stomach, so he guides her to lay back on the bed and leans in for a couple more kisses.

“That was perfect, my sweet, owned girl. Did you like that?” He holds the chain loose and rubs two fingers over her clit, and she bucks up, nods her head.

“Yes, owner daddy. I love when you let me take you that far. It makes me achy,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs apart, very wide, presses a finger inside.

“I know, baby. I can feel how soft and wet you are for daddy. I want you to come on my fingers next, okay?”

“Yes, please, I want to. Want to come on them hard for you.” He leans in for a sweet, soft kiss, slides his finger out of her, then takes her hands and brings them together under her chin, wraps the chain around her wrists so they’re loosely bound, holding the handle in his fist. She moans like he’s destroying her, though he’s barely touched her, but when he slips two fingers inside her she just gasps softly and throws her head back, her stomach tensing.

“Such a pretty girl for me. I’m so lucky you’re all mine.” He is calm—or at least, he’s projecting calm—where she is keyed up, eager, desperate, and he always loves it like this, loves to see how much he can tease her, how long she will hold out until she’s begging for him to fuck her with his hand. “Can you stay still for me? I wonder how long you can stay still for me, sweet girl.”

“Mmm, daddy.” Her chest is heaving as he thrusts his fingers slowly in, then out, then rubs them up her pussy, between her lips, and then thrusts them back in. It’s got to be torture for her, but she just breathes. “I can stay still, daddy. I can do whatever you ask.”

He closes his eyes briefly, collects himself so he doesn’t let all that power go to his head, and pushes his fingers into her a bit faster just to watch her struggle to behave.

“Does that feel good, daddy’s girl?” She bites her lip and nods, offers him a strained god, yes, so he adds another finger; the fact that she can speak at all means she’s far too coherent for his liking. He leans up for a kiss, brushes his nose over her throat, along the edge of the collar, right where his initials are, and she lifts her hips but stops herself, whimpers. “Oh, baby, what is it? Are you needy?” he whispers in her ear.

“Needy, please daddy,” she pleads softly, her eyes focused on him when he pulls back to look at her face, but also a little far away at the same time. “Please, please, I need to come. I need to come, I’m achy.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ll make you come, sweet girl.” He presses their mouths together a couple times, losing his composure a little as she loses hers, and then he moves down between her open legs and rubs his tongue over her clit while pounding his fingers inside.

She is unable to resist moving her hips as she gets closer to climax, and he pulls away, pausing to look up into her eyes again. They’re very hazy now, and she’s whining high in her throat at the sudden lack of stimulation.

“If you don’t stay still, daddy will have to spank you, baby girl. Do you understand?” She nods lazily, and he taps his hand against her pussy, a couple of light slaps just to get her attention. She blinks, makes eye contact, and he asks again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy.” She flicks her tongue over her lips, closes her eyes, and he leans back in to roll his tongue over her clit, fingers moving quickly in and out of her. She remains still for about thirty seconds and then slams down hard against his hand, and from there she doesn’t stop. “Oh please, please. So close, please daddy,” she begs, pressing into the thrusts, and just when she is starting to come he wraps his hand around the chain around her wrists, tugs her body up so he can reach her mouth, and kisses her deep and wet while he fucks her through her orgasm.

She comes hard as promised, soaking his hand, moaning into the kiss—probably due to the fact that he’s holding her up by the leash, because displays of strength make her feel extremely submissive—and when she is through he lays her gently back, unwinds the chain and kisses her wrists.

“Good girl, you did so well. Daddy is so proud.” He leans up to press easy kisses to her cheeks and mouth, and she wraps her arms around his neck, making soft noises of contentment against his lips. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I love making you feel good. Do you love making me feel good?”

He knows she does, but likes to hear it, even when it’s just a sigh like the one she gives him now—he knows what all of her sounds mean, when she’s so deeply sunken into subspace that she's all begging and soft noises and daddy.

“Yeah, I know you do, sweetheart. Are you ready for me to come inside you? Daddy comes inside because he owns you.”

“Daddy, mmm,” she breathes, and he gets up on his knees, spreads them, and drapes her thighs over his, slides in easily because she is still so open and slick. He wraps one hand around her thigh and brings the other to the chain hooked to her collar, loops it around his forearm, and thrusts quick and smooth, grunting when she grabs his wrists and bucks her hips against him. “Oh, fuck. Oh.” She gasps when he pulls on the chain a little harder, bounces roughly against his thighs and whimpers her pleasure, then drops a hand to her pussy and rubs as he slams into her with equal desperation.

“Yes baby, fuck daddy. Good girl, rubbing your little pussy; if I come before you, you’ll have to wait a while, so I hope you get off first.” She whines unhappily at that, rubs faster, her head tipped back, and when he squeezes her breast with the hand holding the handle of the leash she wraps her legs tightly around his thighs and comes with his name on her lips.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow: he takes his hands off of her completely, since she’s holding on to him with her legs, and fucks her hard, pulling on the chain and muttering praise until he spills deep inside her. She is breathless, still but for the rise and fall of her chest, and he takes a moment before pulling out, unwrapping the chain from around his arm and encouraging her to turn onto her stomach.

She complies easily, looks fucked-out and spent, and he kisses along her spine, between her shoulder blades when he slides back into her.

“Again, daddy?” she asks, barely a whisper, and he runs his hands over her body, soft and soothing, leans in to put his weight against her back, his mouth at her ear.

“Not yet, baby girl, but I want to stay inside you, okay? How are you feeling?” She turns her head for a kiss, hums.

“Fuzzy. Good.” He kisses her again and moves his lips to her jaw, then her neck, right up against the collar.

“Is it uncomfortable? Too tight?” he asks softly. He doesn’t want to upset her by suggesting they take it off, but he’s been rough with it, so he wants to check.

“No, owner daddy. It’s perfect.” She gets her arm out from beneath her, reaches it around his neck and pulls him close, nuzzles against his throat. “I love you and I love being owned by you.”

“I love you, baby girl, and I love owning you. You’ve given me everything.”

This may have started as something to do to get her through the lingering effects of the case, but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t see and feel the value in the voluntary transfer of power, how easily she gave herself to him, willingly, completely. He kisses her again, sweet and slow, and then leans up, puts his hands on her ass, massages it.

“Do you need anything?” She murmurs yes, and he smiles a little to himself, rubs a hand up her back. “Thank you for telling me, baby. What can daddy do for you?”

“I need to be spanked, daddy. I couldn’t hold still.” She slides up to her hands and knees, knees spread wide, and though he’s no longer hard inside her, he doesn’t see that being a problem for long.

“That’s right. Good girl for reminding me.” He squeezes her ass, then lightly taps it, and she whimpers. “You were too horny, you couldn’t stay still. I’m not mad,” he promises with another tap. “I know how you get when I touch your pussy: you become such a messy, needy, desperate baby. You can’t help yourself.” She sighs, presses her ass back against him and tilts her head back a little.

“Can’t help myself, daddy,” is all she says, voice breathy and short, and he picks up the leash, holds it loosely along the length of her spine, and smacks her hard on the ass with an open palm.

She gasps, digs her fingers into the bedding, braces herself for more impact; by the sixth, she is grinding against him, panting and whining, her ass an angry red. She’s drenched in slick, and he’s hard again, so he grabs her ass roughly with both hands and thrusts a few times before spanking her a seventh time.

“Fuck daddy, yes daddy,” she moans, pushing eagerly into his thrusts; she fucks herself on his cock even when he’s still, even when his hands come down hard on her already irritated skin. “Mmh. I’m bad, daddy. I’m bad and I’m not perfect, but you still love me.” He exhales deeply, because he knows his girl well, and he knows this means she will be dropping, hard, as soon as she comes; he mentally prepares for the worst, just in case.

“You’re not bad, sweetheart, you are so good; not just to me, but to everyone.” He moves one hand to her hip, holds her steady, then grabs the chain with the other hand and pulls her closer while he pounds inside her. “And no, you’re not perfect, but you’re perfect for daddy; you’re smart, and sweet, and so beautiful, and I love you.” He drapes himself over her back, tugs on the chain so she will meet him for a gentle kiss, their lips so soft in contrast to the way their bodies meet, eager for release. “I love you, baby. Come and let daddy take care of you. Daddy will make it all better.”

She reaches back for him, covers his hand with hers and takes a deep, shuddering breath; it’s only a matter of time before the tears fall, and he would like to be holding her by then, so he curls his hand around to rub at her clit, murmurs reassurances and repeats that he’s got her, and she comes trembling, gasping beneath him.

He kisses her shoulders, thrusts a few more times and then pulls out to come on her hot, marked ass; breathless, he eases her body down onto the bed, leans up to brush her hair back and unbuckle the collar, sets it aside.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Time to rest and let daddy take care of you. You did so well for me, baby. You gave me everything; I will be so careful with it.” He squeezes his eyes shut, feels so much emotion for the sensitive, thoughtful, incredible woman beneath him it makes his chest ache. He brings a hand to her ass, rubs his come in, knows that it stings—but they both like this, and he knows she will expect it, would feel somehow inadequate if he didn’t. He presses a kiss to her lower back. “I’m going to get you some water, good girl. Amazing, special girl. Be right back.”

He grabs a pillow, brings it to her head and lifts it up so she’s pressed comfortably against it, then gives her a peck on the cheek and heads to the kitchen for water and a snack. When he returns, she’s clutching the pillow, turned to face the door so she can see him enter. He pulls her close, sits her up enough to give her a few sips of water, then sets down the glass and holds her against his chest, soft and shivering slightly in his arms.

“I know we just had a bath earlier, but would you like another? Or a shower?” He tugs the blanket loose and wraps it around them, rocks her a little. Gently removing the ponytail holder from her hair, he shakes it loose with his fingers, rubs her throat where the collar left a slight indentation. “Sweet, owned girl, I will give you anything you need, always. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

She cries, clutching at him, and he soothes her, squeezes her, moves his hands through her hair and brushes the tears off of her face; when the sobbing slows, he reaches carefully for tissues on the bedside table, dries her eyes and helps her blow her nose, then gives her more water. She looks a little better after drinking half the glass, so he convinces her to take a couple bites of food, rubs her sore ass with a soft hand.

“Can we shower? And then more of this?” she asks, just a whisper, and he nods and leans in for some slow, sweet presses of lips. Her fingers card through his hair, and he presses a hand to her cheek. “Thank you, daddy. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I’m grateful for you, too, baby. The world just isn’t right when you’re upset—when I can’t find that brilliant smile.” It’s not quite brilliant, but the corner of her mouth does curve up for him, which he considers a good sign. “Let’s go get cleaned up and then I’ll hold you until you’re sick of me,” he teases. He unwraps them and gets off the bed with her in his arms.

“Could never be sick of you ever. Perfect daddy, perfect man.” He shoots her a look, something like yeah right but not too self-deprecating, and she cuddles closer. “Okay, perfect for me, anyway. Strong, gentle owner daddy I know I can trust with everything.”

They shower—she practically purrs when he scrubs her head with shampoo, when he combs conditioner through her hair with his fingers—and slip into pajamas, and he takes the comforter to the laundry room and grabs the spare, wraps her up tight and pulls her close, hugs and kisses and talks to her about everything and nothing until she’s ready for some dinner and a movie on the couch.

She thanks him for everything he did to help her through it, but it’s really his pleasure; it’s where he finds his value, and he tells her so. Because she can’t wear the collar to work, he makes a stop on his lunch break a week later, sneaks into a jewelry store, and buys her a ring.

There is no room to inscribe his initials, but his intentions are heavily implied.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

hello my loves! Some of you may have already seen this, but I have news! This fic is officially complete. There are thirty chapters, so you still have seven left after today’s update. I’ll be keeping the usual Tuesday/Saturday posting schedule, so you have a month left of updates.

Now that I am done drafting this fic, my requests will be open while I begin to bank up new chapters of the Hotch x Reader Scandal!AU that I plan to write next. Please send in requests here. I would also LOVE if you could fill out this survey about the Scandal!AU so I can get a sense of what you all would like. I will make sure to write it in a way that makes sense, even if you haven’t seen Scandal! 

As always, thanks so much for reading, y’all are just the best. 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence, cursing, hospital mention

wordcount: 2.3k 

A little while later, Hotch sends JJ and Emily to the school to interview the classmates of the students who had been murdered, and you and Morgan head off to the medical examiner’s office. 

“Find anything interesting in the calls from the tip line?” Morgan asks you as he pulls out of the parking lot, and you shrug. 

“I need to go back through my notes. There were a couple kids' names that came up, but I want to go back and cross check for the names that came up more than once-- i figure if the name only comes up once, it’s kids pranking each other and I don’t want to waste our time on dead ends. Garcia’s looking into a teacher for me, though.” 

“We just need a couple more puzzle pieces, and then it’ll all come together,” Derek says, more to himself than to you, and you murmur out your agreement as he pulls into the examiner’s office.

“Cause of death for Mrs. Mack and Mrs. Sutton was a gunshot wound to the neck. The daughters, to the abdomen,” the doctor says, passing over her report. “The men were all strangled. The boys by hand, the men with a garrote.”

“Any idea what order they were killed in?” You asked. 

“My guess is the women first, one right after the other. Then the sons, and the husbands.” 

“How did he stop the husbands from taking him down while he killed the sons?” Morgan asks skeptically. 

The medical examiner points out a bruise on Mr. Sutton’s skull. “Looks like he was knocked unconscious, maybe by the butt of the gun or something in the home.” She explains.

“Thank you,” you said to the medical examiner, who smiled and left you both to your work.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Morgan asks you.

“White man in his twenties or thirties, snubbed by a woman he desired for another man, taking out the families he’s convinced he’ll never have?” 

“Call Hotch,” he said, taking off at a brisk pace back towards the car and trusting you to follow. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and discovered that Garcia was already calling you. 

“Hi Garcia, can you patch Hotch in?” You asked. 

“Already here bug, and trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.” She told you, and you put the phone on speaker so Morgan could listen in while he drove. 

“What did you find, Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“So, I looked into Marc Vexper, and it turns out this long-term English sub has something to hide-- he didn’t make a single card purchase on either day that he was out, and his phone was completely off from the moment he stepped off the school’s campus to the time he returned.” 

“Morgan and I are just leaving the medical examiner’s office now-- Marc fits the profile to a tee.” You interject. 

“Oh but wait, the high school of horrors doesn’t end there,” Garcia warns you. “I took a peek at Marc’s texts looking for clues about his whereabouts, and I noticed some too-friendly chats with Victoria Sullivan, a student in his AP Literature class. Her phone was on both days, and I’ll give you one guess as to where she was both days-- and it wasn’t school.” 

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out. 

“So did he groom Victoria into doing it herself, or was she an accomplice?” Hotch asked. 

“The men were strangled, Aaron. There’s no way she could have done that herself.” You tell him. 

“We need an address, Penelope.” Hotch demands. 

“Already on your phone. The station’s closest.” She tells you. 

“We’ll meet you there.” Hotch says, and the line clicks. 

In a routine you’ve performed too many times to count, Morgan flicks on the lights and sirens as you mount your phone with the GPS sending you in the right direction. It’s all the same as it usually is, so why are you so nervous? 

**********************

Hotch elects not to put on his lights and sirens as he approaches Mr. Vexper’s house, not wanting to alert him that anyone had found him out. There are two cars in the driveway-- a modest sedan with a few dings in it, and a shitbox of an old jeep with a parking permit for the local high school on the back bumper. 

“The girl is here-- she might be a hostage.” Hotch tells Spencer, who nods. “We need to be careful. There’s no need for any other kids to lose their lives,” he says, quietly opening up his car door and gesturing for Spencer to take a back entrance while he takes the front. He climbs the worn wooden steps and peeks into the window, seeing nothing before he takes one hand off of his gun to swing open the front door of the home, where he’s met face to face with the Victoria Sullivan, standing on the main stairway of the home, gun leveled square at the middle of his forehead. 

“Victoria, put the gun down,” Hotch says slowly, raising his own hands as a sign of good faith. “I’m here to help you. Where’s Marc?”

Before Victoria can answer, Hotch hears the woosh of metal in the air and feels an overwhelming crack in his legs, falling to the ground as he yelps in pain. 

“Run, Vicky! You know where to go!” Marc yells, and the girl disappears from Hotch’s blurring line of vision as March continues to beat on Hotch with a crowbar, stomping on his legs. 

Hotch vaguely hears Spencer's running footsteps, and Marc takes off, running in the same direction as Victoria. 

Spencer falls to the ground next to Hotch, attempting to gently tend to his injuries, but Hotch weakly waves him off. 

“Go, go, save the girl, he’ll kill her next. I’m okay. Go,” he coughs out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spencer goes. 

Hotch groans as he gropes around in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and calling Garcia. 

“I need help,” he says once the line clicks.

****************

If Aaron lived through this, you were going to kill him yourself. You knew you were being irrational, you knew it wasn’t his fault, and worst of all you know that he hadn’t even done something you could be mad at him for, like going in without backup. This was just the job. This just happened sometimes. And you were absolutely fucking livid that it was happening to him. Not to mention scared shitless. 

Morgan had pumped the gas as soon as Garcia called, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger seat. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Morgan attempted to placate you, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“You don’t know that,” you spat out. 

“He’s tough. He’s got a lot to stick around for. He’s gonna be okay,” He tells you, and this time you don’t argue.

When you finally pull up to the house, Aaron is on a stretcher being loaded onto an ambulance. You throw yourself out of the SUV before it’s even fully stopped, calling out for Aaron. 

“I’m okay,” he sputters out as you climb into the back of the ambulance. 

“No you aren’t, you asshole,” you scoffed at him, your voice a little watery. “Tell the paramedics what happened so they can help you,” you said, stroking at the hair at the top of his head as your chin quivered. 

“Don’t cry,” he says, reaching up for you and you see that his hands are bloody. 

“Shh, shhh. Don’t worry about me. Let them help you,” you calmed him down, trying not to let your tears interrupt the medics when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

 Aaron will live, and you suppose you won’t follow through on your threats to kill him. Once he’s in the hospital, they wheel him back to a restricted area, leaving you alone in a waiting room while the rest of the team finds the unsub. You call Jess, let her know what’s going on, but ask that she keep it from Jack until you’re back in the room with him and Hotch is able to talk to Jack himself. You didn’t want Jack to worry, and you knew that Aaron’s assurance that he was fine was the only comfort Jack would accept.

After a while-- it could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Emily appears in the waiting room..

“I was appointed to come check on you,” she says by way of greeting. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Not since they took him out of the ambulance. He looked… bad,” you struggle to find a word that explains the magnitude of it. 

“He’s gonna be fine. No gunshot wounds, just some nasty bruises. I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was.” She consoles you gently.

“I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, a doctor appears in the doorway. “For Agent Hotchner?” He asks, and you walk over to him. 

“I’m Aaron’s partner,” you explain, the word “girlfriend” feeling entirely too childish for the scenario. 

“Agent Hotchner is going to be just fine. His left leg is fractured slightly at the femur and the kneecap, but we’ve put him in a brace to stabilize the knee, and he should recover over the next eight to twelve weeks. He’ll need some physical therapy, and field work is out of the question until he is cleared, but he’ll make a full recovery.  He has a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but we’ve given him some meds for the pain and the concussion shouldn’t present any further complications.” 

No field work. Aaron was going to be pissed. “Thank you, doctor.” You said gratefully. 

“He’s been asking for you, if you’d like to follow me,” The doctor responds, and you allow him to lead you down a maze of hallways, leaving you just outside Aaron’s room, where his eyes are shut and his chest rises and falls slowly. Figures, you were sure he’d been up all night running through profiles in his head.

You sat on his right side, away from his injured leg, and rested your head against his mattress, near his hip bone. He looked so fragile like this, wrapped up in a thin blanket and a johnny, bandaged from his collar bone to his toes. You wondered, briefly, if he felt this helpless and frustrated the night that he picked you up from your old apartment. The tears well up against your will, but you allow them to fall, for a few moments. You had earned the right to care for him, to worry about him, to fret. You had earned the right to sit vigil at his hospital bed and try to force images of a lifetime lived without him to stop passing through your head. 

Aaron stirred, and you sucked in a quick breath, not wanting to wake him. He settled, again, and you rested your head back against the mattress, letting the gentle rhythm of his breath lull you to sleep. 

He twitches a little while later, and the sudden movement jolts you awake. His return to the waking world is slower, and you let him come at it at his own pace, not wanting to overwhelm him when he was probably already going to be in pain and disoriented. You hear him mumble out your name and you stand, placing one hand on his cheek and the other in his uninjured palm. 

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered to him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to look you up and down without moving his neck. 

“Am I--” you chided gently. “Honey, I’m fine. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” 

“My leg,” he tells you, trying to sit up, but you push back on his shoulders. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You broke your leg. You are staying in this bed until a doctor tells you otherwise.” 

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered out. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Is Spencer okay? And the girl, Victoria Sullivan?” 

“The team took them both alive. Spencer is fine, just a little breathless from his run.” You tell him. 

“When is it gonna heal?” He switches topics back to his injury. 

“You mean, when are you going to be allowed into the field again?” You asked skeptically, and he at least has the good grace to look sheepish. “Not for at least six weeks, more than likely closer to ten, plus physical therapy.” 

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs. 

“It could have been a lot worse, Aaron,” you point out softly, and he looks up at you. 

“You’ve been crying.” He says softly. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Don’t lie to a profiler,” He chides you gently.

“Well, I’m the woman who loves you and I’ve earned the right to cry when you’re hurt.” You said defensively, but not unkindly.

“Hey, I’m okay. Really, I swear. Come up here,” he urges you, and you roll your watery eyes. 

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him. 

“You’ll hurt me worse if you don’t come cuddle,” he pouts. 

“Corny bastard,” you chuckle, tenderly sliding into bed next to him. 

Unable to shift and cuddle, Aaron settles for reaching out for your hand, which you allow him to take in his own. He strokes his thumb over the back of your palm tenderly. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, and you might start crying again right there.

“Don’t do it again. I was ready to kill you myself,” you warned him. 

“Noted.” 

“We should call Jack. I didn’t tell him what was going on, I didn’t want to scare him. Jess knows.” 

“I just… want to hold your hand for a couple more minutes.” 

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[smokahuntis]

Watch and Learn

Watch and Learn

Pairing : Derek Morgan x Reader

Prompt: “watch and learn...”

Warning: Smut! Sub!Morgan!

Summery: The new girl is quiet and shy, so he tried to help her out a bit with questioning, only to find she may not be as shy as she claims.

“I want Reid, JJ and I down at the station, “ Hotch started giving out orders as he pointed his pen to the people in question. “Rossi and Prentiss at the first crime scene, Morgan and (Y/L/N) at the latest, there is people there that need questioned and it needs looked at again.” He said and everyone agreed instantly and began discussing the case at hand.

It wasn’t to long before they landed and everyone went where they were assigned. On the ride over Derek found himself trying to start conversation with (y/n), it really did bother him that she hadn’t said anything to him but her name and that he can drive. He did however find she liked talking to Reid, they got along well, it made him think maybe she was just as smart as him if not smarter, but anytime he listened in on their conversations they were usually book related instead of science or math.

“Soooo... you ever questioned someone before?” He said glancing over at her, causing her to look up from the case file. She just shook her head and looked back down at the papers in her hands.

“I don’t really know much about you, ya know?” He chuckled and raised an eyebrow at her as he drove, glancing between her and the road. “Most of your file was marked out, there a reason for that?” He asked trying to pull what he could from her, it really bugged him he didn’t know his own team mate well enough to say what she did before the BAU, and she’s been here for almost a month. She sighed and closed the file looking at him.

“So do you always ask so many questions ?” She asked ignoring his question, which rose suspicions in him, but he has to trust her, plus he liked the way she talked.

“So you can speak.” He said smiling those beautiful white teeth at her, “how about I give you a few pointers on how to question people okay?” He said trying to be nicer as the pulled up to the most recent crime scene that only happened a few hours ago.

“Okay...” she said back to being quiet and calm, they stepped out of the car and she made sure her gun clicked on her side tightly as they walked towards the two people that were separated from the crowd of people watching and trying to peak inside. Just before getting to them he stopped and looked at his partner.

“Watch and Learn.”

Morgan approached the young blonde who was dressed for a run, in skin tight pants and a shirt, headphones hanging loosely around her neck. (Y/n) stood in her spot a bit away from them as she listened in and focused on him. He couldn’t wipe that smile off his face the whole time, giving subtle flirty remarks back and forth with the girl as he asked his questions, it worked for him well, it really did. The way the blondes eyes raked his figure and how he soothed one of his hands over her arm to calm her down. He got what he needed from her ad walked back over to (y/n).

“See it’s not that hard.” He shrugged and glanced at the male witness. “Your turn princess.” He said and she gave a small smile before handing him her glasses and walking over to the guy.

He was dressed much more fitting for the neighborhood they were in, he wore a suit and had his hair fixed perfectly, shockingly perfect for the blood that covered his hands still.

“Hello you must be Mr.Corbet, “she said smiling at him and handing him a handkerchief to wipe his hands. “I’m (y/f/n) with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, of the FBI, mind if I ask you a few questions?” She said smiling at him, her smile was beautiful and radiant, seemed to real to be as fake as it was, she would have definitely had to practice that. But Morgan loved seeing it never the less.

“Of course, anything that helps.” He said taking the clothes from her hand and giving a small thank you before starting to answer questions. His answers lasted much long then the girls since he tried to revive the victim and saw a little bit of the unsub, but his flirty didn’t stop. (Y/n) didn’t notice it but Derek did. The way Mr.Corbit bit his lip as she wrote down his answers, and the way his eyes trailed her body and chest when she looked away, it made Morgan sick and he couldn’t figure out why. She was almost done when he heard the guy ask for her number ‘in case he remembered anything else’. That was when Morgan stepped it, laying his hand on the small of her back and smiling at the guy.

“Come on (y/n) there is something you gotta see.” He said before leading her away and into the house, putting her glasses back in her pocket as he did so. Once inside and alone she looked at him.

“What was that about?” She asked quietly.

“Don’t let them flirt with you like that...” he said before walking away leaving her dumbfounded in the living room.

—

That was almost a month ago, and (y/n) still hadn’t opened up to Morgan, but she had to tonight, they were partners again at a club. The club wasn’t far from Quantico so they were getting ready at head quarters.

(Y/n) wore a tight black dressed with her hair down, completely out of character for her, and Derek wore a nice suit the screamed he had money. (Y/n) was walking to Garcia’s bat cave at the moment in search for something to really complete the look. She was to focused on trying to get a bracelet on however to notice who was there.

“Hey Garcia do you have any lip gloss I can-“ she was cut off once she looked up and saw Derek standing there and not Garcia, he looked good, almost to good. “You’re not Garcia...”

“No I am not, but I can tell you the answer is yes, she told me to give this to you.” He said handing her a clear sparkly lip gloss.

“Thank you...” she said taking it, noticing her struggled with the bracelet he walked over and latched it for her, his hands gently moving over her skin as he did.

“I need you to stay close to me tonight okay?” He said calmly as he watched her face, how her eyes tried to look everywhere but him.

“Yea, of course...”

“Good... now let’s go, Buttercup.” He said walking with her. Once they got to the club the team went in one at a time, scattering to have eyes on (y/n) and Derek at all times. If everything went correctly the unsub would speak to (y/n), she was his type after all, (h/c) and (e/c), it was what he looked for in his victims. And she fit the bill, almost to perfectly for him to not go for her.

Everything was going smoothly but Derek could tell this was not (y/n)’s kinda crowd, and so when she excused herself for a drink he really didn’t think that much of it since he was close to the bar and everyone had eyes on her. She leaned over the bar and spoke to the bar tender quietly as a man approached her, he didn’t fit the profile so No one worried, specially when we could hear him over her Com.

“What’s a beautiful thing like you doing in a place like this?” He asked smiling at her, leaning over the bar. She blushed and let out a small giggle playing a long so no one knew she was an agent.

“I’m Andrew” he said holding out his hand,

“I’m -“ just as she was about to say her name and take his hand Derek stepped in, his hand grabbing Andrews in a firm hand shake and the other around (y/n)’s waist tightly.

“And I’m her boyfriend, nice to meet you.” He said smiling kindly at the guy who hurried away, Derek looked down at her raising a brow. “What was that?” He asked.

“Why do you care?” She asked looking back at him. He shook his head and they continued with the case.

—

Jefferson City, Missouri, it was late everyone was tired and they left in the morning, right now they were at the hotel getting some sleep, or supposed to be. And today (y/n) had had enough of ‘Derek to the rescue’ any time a man spoke to her. It was honestly tiring, but with her training or way of life she kept quiet, everytime he did it she didn’t say a word. She was trained not to speak or let things bother her, and sometimes she just couldn’t keep it in, so when she saw him at the ice machine she made sure to not look at him, because with one small step in the wrong way and she would loose her cap.

Though of course, he is Derek Morgan and he had to say something. “You okay Buttercup?”

She snapped.

“You know Morgan, I can defend myself! I don’t need you to run in every time you see someone talk to me! I’m an agent on this team, not just a random girl at a bar, you can’t just sweep me off my feet!” She yelled looking at him, he was taken back by her words but she wasn’t done. “I’m probably more qualified for this job then you are! With your little “watch and learn.” This and “ watch and learn” that! I don’t need your help! I was a fucking Spy for christ sake Morgan! I could take out anyone who laid a hand on me let alone speak to me!” She finished and let out a sharp breath looking down at him. When he didn’t reply fast enough she rolled her eyes and left the room going back to her room, leaving him completely dumbfounded by her comments.

He was taken from his thoughts by a laugh, looking over seeing Rossi who had saw the whole thing.

“You saw that?” Morgan said looking at him.

“From start time finish buddy.” He said patting his shoulder. “You should probably apologize...”

“For what?”

“It doesn’t matter, just apologize.” Rossi said looking at him. That’s how he found himself knocking on her door, which was a long way from his, 2 floors actually, so when she opened the door to see him instead of Reid who she did share the floor with, was a shock.

“Morgan...” she said before sighing, guilt riddled her face as she shook her head. “Look I’m so-“

“You’re a spy?” He said looking at her.

“Wow they really blacked out my file didn’t they...” she said moving away from the door letting him in. “Yea i was Interpol Intelligence...” she closed the door behind him and looked up at him. His eyes darted around her face trying to figure out if she was lying but he found nothing. She sighed and walked more into the room.

“I spent 8 years under cover, and I guess being quiet and submissive just became my thing after.” She say on the bed and looked up at him.

“Who else knows...” He asked quietly sitting next to her.

“You, Hotch, Rossi...” she said looking over to him, he chuckled rubbing his brow bone trying to process everything he was taking in. “ I needed something calm, something to get me back on my feet, so I ended up here.”

“What were you like before?” He asked his hand coming up rubbing circles onto her back. She looked at him and her eyes meeting his honeyed brown ones. Something about the way she looked at him in that moment, that moment of weakness. It sent him over his edge and he leaned forward kissing her soft lips. She kissed back almost instantly but pulled away and looked at him.

“You wouldn’t like the real me...” she said looking at him, and he shook his head.

“ teach me, teach me who you really are (y/n), please.” He said pulling her back into another kiss, her hands came up wrapping around his neck as she moved straddling his lap. His large hands moved down to her waist, gripping the skin the escaped her small pajama shirt. Their lips never left each other as they fell back onto the bed with her on top.

“We shouldn’t do this...” she said, and she clearly meant it but neither of them wanted to stop.

“If that’s what you want...” he said his hands not leaving her hips. “But I need you to know, that there won’t be a second that goes by I won’t regret walking out that door...”

“Don’t be to loud...” she said kissing his neck.

“Oh buttercup, you won’t need to worry about me, it’s you we should-“ he tried to flip her but she stood her grown and firmly pushed on his chest laying him back down.

“Watch and Learn Morgan....” she said before she started to grind onto his forming erection. It pulled groans from his lips like no other women has, yet she was silent and calm, she looked unfazed, and he almost thought she was until he felt the wet spot on his sweat pants causing his to grip her hips again.

“Come on baby, let me take care of you...” he said and she Tsked him and swatted his hands away.

“You want to learn the old me,” she said taking his hands tightly into hers and putting them above his head before pulling his hardened cock from his sweat pants. “The old me was Dominant,” she growled out as she grinned down on him harder, back and forth.

“Careless,” she moved side to side.

“And Independent...” she said before moving her shorts to the side and sliding down onto him, letting out a quiet yet satisfying moan of his name, as he stretched her walls and went deeper then any man has ever gone. She loved the feeling of him inside her, tearing her at the seams but she didn’t care, and neither did her. Specially not when she began to move up and down and rounding her hips as she rode him, her hands fell to his chest as she used it for leverage. He thought she was stunning as she used him, and she really did use him. It was the most pleasurable thing he’d ever felt as she rode his cock like it was her job, like she knew it like the back of her eye lids.

Part of him never wanted this to end, but it was his luck, the best women he’s ever had sex with, was his partner. The best women he’d ever felt or seen, and he’s not even seeing all of her, just what was exposed from her pajamas and what the moon light lit up. She was an angel really, she was so good at it it didn’t take him long to cum, and without warning.

He moaned out loudly almost yelling her name, she had to kiss him to muffle the moans he created as his thick seed coated her insides. It threw her over the edge as she came around him clawing at his chest as she did so. It was heaven for both of them, a fall they never thought they’d make. But the landed to quickly as she fell onto his chest and his arms found there way around her body. Kissing her head and layer back again closing his eyes.

“We are in so much trouble in the morning.” He said as he drifted off to sleep. She giggled and kissed his neck one last time.

“It’s your fault, loud mouth...”

Taglist: @hxldmxdxwn and the girl who anonymously requested it! 

[gh0stfacesho3]

Soft Skin

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning: Gore, kidnapping, and death

Word Count: +2.6 k words

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Criminal Minds or its characters.

Summary: You’ve been working with the BAU for about a year now. You had finally found your groove on the force and got really comfortable with the rest of the team, that was until your most recent case.

You walked into the conference room seeing J.J. handing out new files for what you assumed would be the new case. You grabbed a file and sat down between Rossi and Prentiss, across from Reid.

“You’re late,” Hotch said coldly.

“You’re cheery,” you started, getting a chuckle from Morgan, “and yeah sorry about that sir, bit of traffic.” You said with a embarrassed smile. You opened up your file, seeing the pictures of the latest victim. See while they don’t bother you as much as they used to, it’s still not something you wanna see.

“So far all four victims are female that are taken and held for about a week or two before being killed. Each victim is found with a gunny sack on their heads, showing the killer has a sign of guilt or remorse. The victims also have cut marks, ligature marks, burns, even removal of finger and toe nails, but none of that killed the victims. The cause of death was always a shot in the heart.” J.J. explained as she slightly paced back and forth. You could tell everyone was rubbed the wrong way about this, especially when there was no drugs found in the victim's bloodstream, meaning the victim felt everything.

“He likes inflicting pain, makes him feel like he is in control.” Morgan said, rubbing his forehead.

“Why just he? Why not them?” You asked standing up, walking to the bored with the pictures from the scene,

“What do you mean them? You think its two?” Emily asked.

“Yes, I mean, look at all the wounds. The cutting, some are extremely deep while others show signs of hesitation. Same thing for the burns, strangling, and even the removal of the nails. Its almost as if one was trying to show him how to do it. So we could possibly be looking for a close bond of two males who are in their late 20s to mid 30s. Could be brothers, cousins, or best friends. The older, more dominate one is trying to show the other unsub the ropes so the dominate unsub could be like a father figure to the younger.” I explained to them all.

“She has a point but what if its like one of our previous cases where the unsub has multiple personality?” Reid ask, thinking back to the time he was kidnapped.

“That could be a possibility but I think the submissive one would’ve been able to give the victim a type of pain killer if it was a someone with multiple personality disorder.” Hotch said as he looked intently at the bored.

“Well, let’s head to lil ol’ Oklahoma,” You said with a small smile. Everyone made their way to the jet and discussed the case some more here and there. You were sitting next to Reid when your eyelids started to get heavy. You quietly fell asleep, your head falling onto Reid’s shoulder. 

“I wonder what’s been on her mind?” Reid asked, looking down at you then back up to the team.

“What do you mean?” J.J. questioned.

“When she saw the file this morning, her entire demeanor changed.” Morgan shot in, knowing what Spencer was talking about. 

“Its this case, it’s obvious. Not only does she feel bad for the victims, she has the same (h/c) hair as all the victims, the same length of hair, she is the same age as well and finally, she’s in the law enforcement field as the rest of the victims.” Garcia had popped in from the computer screen.  

“She doesn’t know that they are all in the government field but once she does, it won’t help her situation but we can’t keep it from her.” Emily said softly. After that, the conversation went quiet till the plane landed. You woke up quickly realizing you fell asleep on Reid.

“I-I’m sorry, Doctor.” You said quickly as you stood up, fixing yourself as your cheeks were a light red.

“It’s okay (Y/L/N)” He said blushing slightly at the fact you called him doctor. 

You all headed to the police station in Stillwater, Oklahoma. It was a long day of interviewing, briefing, profiling, research, and a lot of coffee. This investigation was now on its third day and you decided you’d go get take out for your team. Reid offered to go with you but you politely declined and said the team needs him the most. On your way out to your car, you felt like someone was watching you, which to be honest with yourself, since you got here you’ve been feeling like that. You walked over to the vehicle you were using until you felt something slam on the side of your head making you drop your keys. Everything faded and went black. 

When you woke up, you were dressed in a red dress. Your vision was blurry at first but then everything came into focus. It was two men, one a lot taller and bigger built and the other was smaller, shorter, and obviously timid. 

“You got what you wanted Jacob, now do what you want.” The larger male said as he spun a knife between his fingers. The younger boy walked over to you and placed a different colored wig on your head. He then looked at the older and whispered something to him. The older walked over to you and placed the blade on your leg, ripping open the flesh causing you to scream out in pain for Jacob to take the blood from your leg and put it on your lip as a makeshift lipstick causing you to spit out and drool as tears fell from your eyes. 

“Please...don’t do this...” You pleaded as the younger caressed your cheek.

“I’m not going to hurt you... I love you...your skin is so soft” Jacob said quietly as he kissed your cheek, causing you to flinch. “I have to go get the necklace. I’ll be back Jeremy ..” Jacob said, leaving you and Jeremy alone. He had lit a cigarette early and blew smoke toward your face, making you cough. 

“I don’t know what he sees in you...your filthy just like my momma. Think you got some authority over all us don’t you? Wanna beat us around and you get away with it cause you’re a filthy cop.” He spat as he put his cigarette out on your hand that was tied down to the chair

“No! I swear...I don’t think I control you, I promise.” You screamed out.  This process went on for what felt like years. By the time both of the males were finished, you had cuts all down your body, makeup smeared down your face, and you were missing two fingernails. 

--

“Guys...where is (y/n)? She was supposed to be back five minutes ago.” Reid ask as he stood up and made his way out the conference room. 

“I don’t know, I’ll call her.” Morgan said as he pulled out his phone. Reid walked outside and ran next to your vehicle, picking up your keys.

“She was taken.” Reid exclaimed as he was panting from running back inside. Luckily the team had a lead on who the unsubs were but not where they took their victims. They all got in their vehicle and headed to their main lead. 

--

“You’re so beautiful...” Jacob started, “I love you so much.” He whispered as he caressed your face. 

“I-...I love y...you too..” You strangled out, trying to feed into his delusion. 

“You do? That means you get a reward.” Jacob said as he kissed your cheek that was now bruised from the slapping you received from Jeremy. Jacob pulled out a necklace made of fingernails and teeth. You swallowed back the slow acidic bile that made its way towards your mouth. 

“Can-...may I sleep for now?” You ask quietly and receive a nod from Jacob. You lay your head back and rest your eyes, trying to ignore the pain throughout your body. You were soon awoke by the ripping of the dress off your body by Jeremy. 

“W-what are you doing?!” You cried out as you shook in the chair.

“I wanna see that body again...and I need more room for this knife..” Jeremy explained as he placed the knife against your upper left breast and carved an ‘x’ over the area making you scream out in pain. Jacob walked over and pushed his brother.

“Her body is only for me to see!” He yelled as he threw his jacket over my body. The sub is evolving into the dominate male meaning Jeremy’s previous tactics worked. Everything calmed down and you fell back asleep until you were woken up by the sound of distant sirens. You smiled lightly as tears streamed down your face so you looked at the two males to see them asleep. The sirens progressively got louder, causing the men to wake up. Jeremy runs out back while Jacob unties you and holds you up with a knife held to your heart. You hear the rattle of the barn doors before they burst open. 

“FBI! Put the knife down Jacob Whit!” Morgan yelled with his gun pointed at Jacob. I nod my head to the back and watch as Hotch and Prentiss run around back. 

“No! She’s mine!” Jacob yells back, making you flinch. You look at Reid and you nearly collapse and you can see hatred in his eyes towards Jacob which a look you’ve never seen in Reid’s eyes before. 

“Let us take care of her, Jacob. She can’t love her if she’s dead.” Morgan said as he took a step closer. You know Jacob’s plan, he knows he won’t escape this so he is trying to take you with him. 

“No! I want to be with him!” You yell out to them, causing them to all be confused except for Spencer. 

“You wanna be with me?” Jacob slightly relaxed, the knife lifting slightly. 

“Of course, I love you.” You said looking at him and leaning into his grip. He relaxed completely and held the knife out towards the FBI agents. “But the only way we can be together is if we are both alive, baby. So you have to work with them okay. I can get them to let us go.” You whispered to him, internally cringing at the nickname you gave him.  

“O-okay..” He let you go and pushed you forward, dropping his knife. “Now, I want her ba-” He was cut off by Morgan tackling him. You fell into Reid’s arm, crying as you clung onto him with your life.  

“Medic! We need a medic here!” Reid yelled as he held you tight, ripping the necklace off your neck. “I’m so sorry...I should have gone with you.” He said pulling you closer to him. 

“No...it’s not your fault.” You explained, looking up at him and caressing his face. The medics came and put you on the stretcher and started to take you away but you held onto Reid, tears streaming down your face. “Please...don’t leave.” You pleaded. 

“I won’t. I promise.” Spencer said as he walked along side you and got into the ambulance with you. You woke up in a hospital bed and tried to get up quickly, causing Reid to shoot over to you and gently push you back down. 

“Hey, hey...take it easy.” Reid said as he pulled his chair closer to your bed. 

“How long was I sleeping?” You questioned as you slowly sat up, looking out the window to see its dark.

“One day and a half. Its 3:17 am.” Reid spoke softly as he gave you a bottle of water. You took it quickly and chugged almost all of it before Reid pushed the bottle down. “Slow down, you have all the time you need now. I’m here to protect you.” 

“You’ll make sure I’m safe, Doctor?” You laughed lightly as you lightly sipped on your water.

Blushing slightly he nodded, “Always. So how are you feeling?”

“I was kidnapped and tortured by two psychos and was saved by my favorite doctor...I’m great, but oddly hungry.” You chuckled then winced and looked down at your body under the blanket. You got out of the bed even with all the protest from Reid so he decided just to help you out of the bed instead of trying to fight with you. You walked over to he mirror and tried lifting up the gown, not caring Reid was there and that all you would be in your black bra and underwear. 

“Get it off.” You said quietly to Reid who was looking down at his feet.

“(y/n)... I don’t think that’s a good-” Spencer started to say before you cut him off.

“Now Reid!” Your voice raising slightly. He nodded and aided you in getting the gown off being careful of the wires and IV’s connected to you. You looked at all the scars littering your entire body, the long scars from the cuts, the circle marks from the burns and even your two missing nails. “I’m so...gross...” You mumbled, tears streaming down your face as you looked back at Spencer. He didn’t know how to react but all he could do is reach out and pull you into a hug. 

“You’re not gross...In fact you’re quite the opposite. Not only are you genuinely beautiful to me, you are also very smart, caring, brave, and funny. These scars only show how brave you are.” Reid said as he brought you back over to the hospital bed, laying you down and sitting next to you. “I know my opinion might not mean much to you,  but you are the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen in my life.” He tells you.

“It means-....it means a lot to me, Spence.” You said as you looked up into the eyes of your hero as he wiped away your tears. “I have a question, Reid.” You started, getting a nod from him so you could ask. “Why did you look so mad when you found me?”

“Cause I let the most important person to me get too close to death.” Reid said without thinking, causing him to blush brightly. 

“I’m important to you?” You ask as you sat up, looking at him, blushing slightly as well.

“Yes...very important (y/n).” Reid said looking at you, brushing your hair behind your ear. There was a comfortable silence between you too as you stared into each other’s eyes. Like magnets, you felt yourself being pulled to him, never realizing just how amazing Reid was. He was extremely attractive, you’ve always thought so, but it was more so now than ever. Neither of you realized how close you were to each other until you felt his soft breath fan across your lips. “And I can prove it to you,” Reid told you as he glanced down at your lips. You were slightly shocked when you felt him press his lips onto yours, causing you to smile and kiss him back softly. 

“I think that’s all the evidence I need, doctor,” You chuckled, feeling all the negativity from before fade away. You pressed your lips to his again causing Reid to pull you closer and placing his hand on your cheek. “I wanna go home Reid...Can you take us to get take out, bring me home, cuddle with me and watch movies you cute insomniac?” You asked Reid, remembering it’s like 3 in the morning. 

“Why of course my adorable soldier.” He smiled, blushing as he brought you your clothes for you to go change into. You changed while he went check you out the hospital so by the time you were dress, Spencer was ready to head out. Work might just be more bearable with this dork by your side.

A/n: Let me know how you liked this! I’m thinking of doing a part two, depending on how this goes. The part two would probably be on more of the recovery of the reader OR the reader and Spencer Reid sneaking around and fraternizing during work hours if ya know what I mean lmao 

[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Spring Fever

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country.

Special shot out to @spencereid for the Elle gif. Kate makes amazing gifs and gifsets and deserves all the credit for her work.

March 20, 2017 7:02am

Ashley Seaver had been doing this job a long time, long enough not to bat an eye when an email from the Board of Regents comes through requesting the staff get a physical copy in their mailboxes as well as an official email. Dr. Reid really did need it in writing as he never set up his FBI email account, which amused the older blonde woman equally as it annoyed her. She didn’t even read the memo until she had printed precisely the amount of copies needed and sorted them into the clearly labeled trays along the wall.

To the Staff and Faculty of Frederick Buchanan Institute:

It has come to our attention that the personal interests of the faculty may have fallen against the clear moral code of ethics expected of the employees of our fine institution. To maintain the exemplar standards and ensure the impact of off grounds decisions are not hindering abilities to provide world class education and insight to our impressionable students, we beseech you to review the personnel manual that has been provided. If further concerns are brought to light, greater repercussions with be doled out accordingly.

Sincerely,

The Board of Regents 2016-2017

Erin Strauss

Mateo Cruz

Maxwell Ryan

‘Huh’, Ms. Seaver thought as she made her way back to her desk. The shuffling of heels and a cheery, “Morning, how’s my Seaver Savior doing?!” signaled Penelope had arrived for the day. The women made small talk as Penelope checked her mailbox, her attention drifting away from tales of the secratary’s puppy problems to the short, but intense memo in her hands.

“Whoa, mama.” Penelope muttered, shocked.

“Penelope? Everything alright?” Ashley asked. “Oh, yeah, Regents are still up in somebody’s business, even after Jason. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah, I mean, no.” Penelope said defiantly. “Well, I, uh, better scoot. Ciao!”

Penelope scampered out into the corridor leading towards her office, her fingers fidgeting with the keypad on her phone.

12:32pm

“There’s my girl!” Derek crooned slinking into Penelope’s office during her lunch.

“What? How? How are you okay right now?!” Penelope gaped at her boyfriend. She nearly ran to the door, ensuring it was open. “Better leave that open, thank you very much.”

“Pen? What’s going on?” Derek held back from snaking his arms around her, playing with her fingers instead. “You said we needed to talk this morning, call me crazy but I thought you wanted to see me.”

Penelope slammed a piece of paper into his chiseled chest, “This is what is going on, Mister Muscles. Muscles that I cannot be touching whilst at work.” She bit her lips, hands raised in surrender.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Derek rubbed his head as he read the memo. “Did everybody get this?”

“Yeah, Ashley got the email just this morning. I may have checked her inbox. But, it doesn’t say in so many words. But, we got caught, Derek.”

“This could be anything, Penelope.” Derek put the sheet down. “Maybe Reid got a speeding ticket, or Emily told off a soccer mom, we can’t be sure until we cover our bases.”

“Exactly. Which means,” Penelope inhaled, flinching. “We have to break up, but not like, really, just for here.”

“You’re fake breaking up with me?” Derek’s eyebrows nearly jumped off his face.

“Baby, we’ve got to. We both love our jobs, in fact, that’s one of the things I love most about you is how much you love your team and the other kids.”

“But, come on. Really?”

“Just for now, until we know we are in the clear.” Penelope placated.

“You’re lucky you’re gorgeous and I love you. I wouldn’t pretend to break up with just anyone, you know.”

“I know, that’s why when we are in the safe and in the clear, Mama is going to make it up to you.” Penelope’s grin curled and flat lined in an instant. “But, uh, not now, or here.”

“Right.” Derek smirked, shaking his head. “Well, alright then. Mssssss Garcia. You have a nice, professional day.”

“You too, Der- Coach.” She nodded in closing.

March 21 11:27am

“JJ?” Dave had ducked his head inside the break room before the soccer coach could head into cafeteria duty. “Can I grab you a minute?”

She glanced back at the now empty table, ensuring her place was cleared. It was, for the most part. “What’s up, Chef?”

“I just needed an extra pair of hands.” He held the door to the kitchen open and she slid inside. The old chef working quickly, letting the athletic blonde pick up on the small sorting and traying of the students’ meals. They worked in comfortable silence and were free from the daunting line of hungry teenagers soon enough.

“Thanks, JJ” Dave smiled as she sneaked a green onion from one of the prep tables. “I see your appetite has come back. That’s good, I was beginning to take this thinning face, personally.”

JJ crunched down on the vegetable earnestly clearing her mouth in order to answer him. “Dave, come now, you know if I could I would have been in here everyday stealing something.”

“So everything is okay, with?” Dave patted his own belly.

JJ sighed and nodded. “Yep, doctor says everything is good. Now that I am in my second trimester, the queasiness has backed off.” Her hand instinctively rested on her barely bump.

“When are you due?”

“September 19. Which means needing a coach and a long time sub come fall semester.”

“Hotch know?”

“I’m guessing somebody told him. Did you know that having an unwed mother on staff is considered a breach of our code of ethics?”

“He didn’t say that?” Dave’s voice shortened in alarm.

“No, but something is pushing the Board’s buttons.”

“Don’t worry about them. You take care of the two of you.” Dave smiled, patting JJ on the back as they headed their separate ways.

Mach 22 3:42pm

“Come in,” Hotch said evenly at the knock on his door. “Ms. Prentiss? Hello, stopping by to get the previous minutes for the next Booster Club meeting?” The confusion on his face was nearly masked, he had no idea why Emily was stopping by after school.

“No, actually, but I will get them from Ashley via email, thanks.” She sat, stiffly in front of her boss, unwilling to mince words, she set her copy of the Board’s memo on his desk. “There are better ways of going about this, don’t you think?”

“I had no idea they were sending this out, Emily. Why are you upset?” Hotch held the sheet without looking at it, eyes wary.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps someone decided I am the next victim in Lizzie’s temper tantrum.” Emily stared glassy eyed at Hotch, waiting.

“To my knowledge, this is not about you. Is there something you feel guilty about?” Hotch smirked, amused at the shocked expression on the woman’s face.

“Not guilty, let’s just say I am uneasy with the way the atmosphere can change.”

“You’ve been teaching for seventeen years, Emily. What possibly changed that much, suddenly?”

“I had a relationship with a co-worker. A relationship many people do not approve of.” Emily laid her cards bare.

“Emily this is not about one of the staff being gay, or anyone being LGBTQ.” Hotch explained.

“It’s not?” She nodded. “Good.” The relief at war with her unshakeable demeanor.

“Besides, I don’t know why you think that was a secret until recently. You went to school here, people have always talked.”

“I had no idea my private life was common gossip.”

“Emily, you’re a highly respected educator. Nothing about your character or your desire to fill these kids’ heads full of possibility is in question.”

She smiled, he was good at this. “Before I go, I gotta know. When did you know?” She raised her chin in interest.

Hotch exhaled through pursed lips, “Well, when Ian Doyle asked you to Homecoming your senior year?” Hotch shrugged.

“You remember that?!” Emily chuckled. “Christ, what were you, a freshman?”

“You threw his lunch in the trash and gave him a double middle finger.” The subdued laughter shaking his chest.

“And that proves I’m gay, how?” Emily countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You did it to get a rise out of your crush.” Hotch leaned back in his chair.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s okay, Emily. I had a thing for Mrs. Robbins too. I think everyone did. She always wore those-”

They looked at each other and broke into fits. “Miniskirts.” They said in unison.

March 24 3:17pm Raleigh, NC

Alex, Stephen and Kate stood in the wings of the stage watching the 2017 debate team await their scores for the first round of the Southeast Regional Competition. Zachary was off to the side as Sacha and Kimi held hands nervously. Trevor, Amelia, and Jake were trying to get each other to laugh, psyching each other out. The emcee’s voice boomed through the microphone, “The winner of the 2017 group debate with a team of four or more is—- the Junction School for Girls from Ideal, Georgia.”

Alex knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier watching the disappointment fall on each of her kids’ faces. Kate stood beside her, clapping encouragingly. They had an outstanding season up until this point, caravan-ing and squabbling over semantics to get here. Alex was incredibly proud of how far they had come, but it didn’t matter, the loss had to be felt before the silver lining could be recognized as more than a splinter in an open wound.

Stephen gestured to the kids, shaking his hand in the air. Zachary caught his drift and started congratulating their opponents on their victory. Sacha rolled her eyes and stomped in line behind Kimi, muttering her parroted responses. The teams cleared the stage and found their chaperones.

“Unsubs!” Alex waved over her head, despite Stephen’s higher perch. “Alright, how do you guys think you did?”

“Well, we lost, so-” Amelia started.

“We did good. They did better.” Zachary shrugged.

“You really think we did worse than them?” Sacha challenged.

“Zach is right, Sash.” Ms. Blake explained. “And that’s okay. We lost. It sucks. But it is not the end of the world. You, all, have grown in ways I didn’t know you could this season. You are still Virgina’s State Champion Debate Team, don’t forget that.”

March 24 11:14pm

Spencer Reid had been over to Elle’s apartment a handful of times over the year and a half they had worked together. He helped cat sit when she went home for Christmas, he had joined her for some awards show last winter and then there was the soap opera binge of summer 2016 when it had been too hot to leave the house and they watched a month’s worth of a show in a weekend. Needless to say, he had never arrived uninvited, especially not in the middle of the night. But something was off with Elle that day at school and Spencer hadn’t been able to sleep not knowing his friend was alright.

He should have called her before he left, weighing the concept of owning a cell phone in his mind before dismissing the thought. But he hadn’t called, so when he knocked nervously on her door, he was expecting a less than polite reception from her colorful mouth. She opened the door with a quick harrumph after checking the peep hole.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Dr. Reid?” She laughed at herself as she showed him inside. Spencer’s suspicions proven concrete with the jar of booze left out on the kitchen island. He squinted behind his glasses and stood anxiously with his hands in his pockets.

“I noticed something was bothering you, earlier. And, uh, I couldn’t sleep knowing you were upset.” Spencer explained, Elle’s face was rosy with the warmth inside her. Her dark features softened with the loss of tension from the alcohol. It wasn’t that she was more beautiful drunk. Although, those walls she kept up emotionally, had come down; allowing her to be viewed physically and not just navigated socially. She noticed Spencer noticing this phenomenon.

“You were thinking about me?” Elle’s voice was softer, deeper. Spencer gulped. “Would you like a drink? I’ve had my share and it is best to not drink alone.”

“Is it?” Spencer asked, not knowing that expression.

“So they say,” Elle grinned, bringing down another glass from the cabinet. “Take your coat off, Reid.”

Eventually Spencer relaxed enough to sit down with Elle in her living room, each clutching their cocktail glasses. He for a grounding effect, she so as not to spill. A comedy played in the background as small talk took over the conversation. Elle didn’t say it, but she was relieved that he had shown up. Too scared to be alone with her own thoughts.

“Are we going to talk about what sent my Spidey-senses off today?” Spencer teased, having finished one of the potent beverages and starting on his second.

“I thought it was obvious,” Elle shrugged. “The continued witch hunt from the Regents? I mean, it feels like this is just another tick against me for hurting their reputation for having Brayden put away.“

“That whole thing occurred on campus, Elle.” Spencer reassured her. “I thought the memo had to do with Penelope and Coach Morgan?”

“Please, Spence, Rossi and Alex were married, for like, years. They don’t get their panties this twisted over co-mingling.”

“They don’t?” Spencer’s voice cracked, the surprise evident.

“I mean, unless they are getting it on during school hours or in the locker room. Of course.” Elle chuckled.

“Right, of course.” Spencer shrugged, sipping the biting liquid again.

“You really don’t drink much, huh?” Elle pinched his cheek, as he tried to straighten away the disgust on his face. He froze at her touch, she was soft and warm.

“Not really.” Spencer breathed, she was leaning closer as if they were sharing a secret.

“Reid, don’t freak out, but I am going to kiss you now.” Elle said plainly, her eyes calm, yet searching.

“Wha-?” Spencer started as her mouth encased his bottom lip. Her hair smelled of honey and teak. He remembered to close his eyes as her hands found the sides of his face. This was nice.

Elle managed to take Spencer’s cup from his sweaty palm and set it down on the coffee table with barely a break in their kiss. Spencer didn’t know what to do with his hands, keeping them tentatively on her thighs. Suddenly she was straddling his lap and his glasses were gone. Spencer’s body was enjoying this more than the rational parts of his brain as he realized how drunk Elle must be and how this was not why he came over in the first place.

“Hey,” Elle asked, pecking along his jaw. “Everything alright?”

“There is so much going on, that it would be indeterminable for it to be right in its entirety.” Spencer’s fact voice replied.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, Spence.” Elle explained then began stroking his ear with her tongue.

“You have?” His voice shifted with his unforgiving blush.

“I mean, waiting for you to get over JJ. Then when you told Emily off I got nervous again. But now, I think it’s safe. Don’t you?”

“Why now? What’s changed?” Spencer’s curiosity getting the best of him, his hands holding her small waist affectionately.

“Well, because she went and got herself knocked up. Clearly, JJ is out of the picture.”

Spencer froze, Elle closed her eyes at the faux pas. She rolled off his lap as he processed what she had told him. It was devastating him and the reality of its weight sunk in Elle’s stomach. The shame and the bitterness warred within her.

“Look, I’m sorry I said anything about JJ,” Elle began, standing and clearing their glasses. “But I’m not sorry for kissing you. Now, if you can say the same, we can keep talking.”

Elle couldn’t look him in the eye, because they oozed regret and she didn’t want their moment tarnished more. He had kissed her back, even if he didn’t have all the information, some part of him wanted her too. But he still loved JJ more, that much was abundantly clear. Spencer found his glasses and followed Elle to the kitchen.

“I don’t know what to say,” Spencer admitted. He always had something to say, why were words failing him now when he needed them most?

“You don’t have to say anything, Reid.” Elle’s walls were returning. “Thanks for stopping by. Maybe we can do this again, if Mommy Dearest let’s you out of the house.”

“Don’t be like that.” He cringed. “I came over to make sure you’re okay and I somehow made it worse, haven’t I?” Spencer didn’t wait for an answer, it was better left unsaid. He grabbed his coat and waved his goodbye. Elle locked the door behind him and bent over as the tears washed over her.

April 3 3:35pm

Tara Lewis wasn’t sure what was worse, the quiet or the storm. She knew her presence at the school hadn’t been expected. She also knew that the students had been allowed to slack off under their previous history instructor’s tenure. The audacity of her to expect their darling Sallys and Johns to apply insight to their history essays or handle more than multiple choice exams, honestly.

Dr. Tara Lewis was well-versed in the politics of private school educations of the spawn of the one percenters. She was, unfortunately, not used to the blatant biases of the south. It wasn’t a surprise, she was far too smart to be naive. It was just another layer she had to break her way through that glass ceiling. After the first month of her teaching had passed with little more than a catty remark from a student here or there; she knew she was still in the quiet.

The storm rolled in with a Coach purse, hiding behind a pair of Fendi shades.

“Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Kane-Gordon?” Dr. Lewis asked as the mother wandered into her classroom, barely after the final bell.

“I want to know what the hell you think you’re doing!” The woman left little room for polite conversation.

“Ma’am, if you would like to question my teaching methods or expectations, I insist on Headmaster Hotchner’s presence. He should know about any concerns about my performance.” Dr. Lewis’s voice was saccharine laced venom, gaging that this parent was on the shallower end of observant. ‘He should know what I have to deal with,’ was what she meant.

“He has already been emailed about this. I just don’t see how Sacha’s grade could drop so much, its clear you’re new at this.”

“No. Sacha’s grade dropped because she is not performing to the standards set by this school or myself. If she wants a better grade, she will have to work for it. Now I am ha-”

“I’m not done here.” Lauren Kane-Gordon interjected.

“I’m sure you’re not. But I the bell rang twelve minutes ago, and that means I am free to go. If you need me, the headmaster and I will be happy to set up a meeting. Sacha can ask for help anytime. Goodnight, Ms. Kane-Gordon.”

April 10 1pm

Penelope squealed as Andrew held the door open for his mother and father.

“Mr. and Mrs. Heathridge, come on in, folks!” The guidance counselor led them over to her couch and lounge chairs. “I’m so glad you could make it in to help Andrew transition back into classes.”

Derek had stopped Andrew at the door, a welcoming fist bump turned hug for his varsity lineman. They joined Ms. Garcia and Andrew’s parents at their little pow-wow.

“So how’s it going, man?” Coach Morgan asked, trying to keep the mood positive.

“Good, that rehab was pretty intense stuff, but I’m really glad I went. It wasn’t like an addiction, like what Dr. Reid went through, but the body image issues and the need to be the best were driving every part of my day.” Andrew confided to the group.

“Oh, buddy, we are so proud of you,” Ms. Garcia patted his large knee. “Now, for the not so good news. Classes are off like gangbusters for second semester, you’ll have to check in with each of your teachers weekly to see that you are getting caught up.”

“And Dr. Reid and I are still having after school study sessions on Wednesdays in the Library. If you need me, I’m there.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Andrew nodded, writing down reminders for himself on a small steno pad. “And Ms. Garcia, of course.”

“Now, Andrew is still being recruited by Ohio State and Western Michigan.” Mr. Heathridge explained. “How can we ensure we, Andrew is the right head space to start in the fall?”

“Well, he knows he can come to us, either of us, with anything.” Coach Morgan began.

“And I have his doctor’s numbers from the treatment facility if we notice and fallbacks. This is a village and we don’t disappear even when our kids graduate.” Ms. Garcia added enthusiastically.

“Do you hear that, baby?” Mrs. Hearthridge’s stroked her son’s large arm. “No more, I’m too tough for help, crap.”

“Yes, mama.” Andrew rolled his eyes playfully, but she pinched him back.

“Alrighty, well, we have everything set for tomorrow. Headmaster Hotchner wants you to stop in to see him in the morning, he has a schedule of meeting times with each teacher outside of class time.” Ms. Garcia explained.

“Thanks again, both of you.” Mrs. Heathridge’s graciousness was infectious.

“And Dr. Reid, tell him from us as well?” Mr. Heathridge added.

“See ya, Coach, Ms. Garcia.”

The couple proudly saw the family back out towards the parking lot. They were born to do this; help kids grow into adults. Derek kept his hands at his sides, missing the hug of celebration from his Baby Girl.

Very Special Thanks to Cassie @mentallydatingspencerreid,

Meg @imagicana , and Loki @ay-nako!!!

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