#i think he recognizes he COULD be an unsub if he wanted to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

confused-pyramid · 1 year ago

Text

Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, slow slow slow burn, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 1x01, 1x06, 1x07, 1x08, 1x15, 1x16, and 1x22

a/n: I started rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is what came out of it heh. This is the first part in a little series I'm starting that follows Hotch and his childhood best friend in the BAU, beginning with the pilot. If all goes well, this will continue through the rest of the show, with ~1 part per season :) Title is from Coming up for air by Signals in Smoke

series masterlist

You haven't used your oven in over a year. It's not that you don't like cooking - because you do - you just haven't had the time. If you could, you would blame it on the extra hours you have had to put in after starting at the BAU, but that wouldn't be fair. Your transfer to the unit was the only thing that got you through his death at all.

After your husband was shot and killed in action while tailing a kingpin of one of the New York mobs, you couldn't bear to be in this house at all. You had gone back home to stay with your father for a couple of months, but eventually you had to get back to your real life. With a month remaining on your bureau-mandated leave, you returned to the home you had shared, before one of the lower-level mob soldiers misfired -

You didn't let yourself think about it for almost a year, but time heals all wounds. The poets were right. At least you hope they are.

Even back at home, you still couldn't bear to be there alone, other than when you were sleeping. That's why your peloton was gathering dust and your kitchen went untouched, until just now.

So, of course, the call from the office comes when you're making dinner. It takes five minutes to change into slacks and a button-up, and two more to toss your half-cooked vegetables in the trash, before driving down to headquarters.

A fourth girl has been taken in Seattle, and the local PD only now decided to invite your team. You know the BAU isn't well-liked by the other departments, but that doesn't mean you aren't effective.

When you enter the building, you rush through the I.D. check and jog over to the lecture hall, where Morgan and Reid are standing outside of a neighboring office like children waiting for their father to come and get them.

Shooting them both a thin-lipped smile, you step inside just as they finish discussing the unsub's pattern.

"They want you back in the saddle," Hotch says to the man beside him after greeting you with a nod.

Your eyes are so immediately drawn to Hotch that it takes you a moment to realize that you recognize the man standing next to him. You haven't seen him since the day you were assigned to the BAU, mostly because you were technically transferred to this unit because of his extended leave.

What was supposed to be one month became six, before Hotch informed you that your temporary placement would be permanent, if you were willing to stay in Virginia.

It was a no-brainer.

You turn your gaze to Jason Gideon as everyone in the room stares at him expectantly. He looks self-assured, but you're sure the confidence is a front. "They sure they want me?"

"The order came from the director," Hotch says simply.

"Well," Gideon states, "we'd better get started, then."

Hotch glances over at you as everyone files out of the room and you raise your eyebrows momentarily, a quick check-in between the two of you. He nods imperceptibly and it's enough for now. He didn't tell you Gideon was coming back today, but now isn't the time to give him hell for that.

***

Hotch is the last to board the plane, and he takes his usual seat beside you, this time in the aisle, a few rows away from the rest of the team.

"I was going to tell you," he says as soon as you close the case file in your hands. "The section chief wants me to evaluate him to see if he's ready to return to the team."

"That's a lot of pressure." They have to know that Gideon will be able to smell him out within the day. "You sure it won't get in the way?"

Hotch makes that face you hate, the one that says he knows you're deflecting. "I was going to tell you."

It doesn't take much for you to forgive him. It helps that you trust him completely, especially after everything he has done for you.

"Still," you smile, bumping his shoulder with yours, "it would have been nice to know about the sudden change to my job security."

You're mostly joking, but his frown is genuine. "Don't be silly. You'll always have a place on this team."

He takes everything so seriously these days. You suppose it's only fair, given the files he has to sort through on a daily basis. Picking which case deserves the team's attention the most.

But he wasn't always like this. You're the newest member of the team, but you've known Hotch longer than any of them.

You still remember the first time you met him, at eight years old. He was your first real friend at school, and you became inseparable easily. Your shared love for The Beatles and Law and Order made you fast friends, and as you grew older, your interests shifted in tandem.

Sometimes when you look at him, you still see that little boy who knew too much, but still managed to always make you laugh.

***

The team disperses soon after you land in Seattle. You've never had to come up with a profile in one afternoon, but it's also been a long time since your ticking clock to find the victim was just over a day.

When Gideon and Morgan head to the latest crime scene, you join Hotch and Reid to interview the victim's brother. The moment the three of you step into his house, his dog, Sandy, starts barking up a storm.

"It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch smiles, walking over to pet her. "Happens with children, too."

You can't help but smile as well, peering over at Spencer, who looks about as uncomfortable as he usually does.

It doesn't escape your notice that the brother looks looser now. Hotch has a way with people that traces back to his childhood self. He was always wiser than his years, something you chalk up to his need to grow up faster than he should have, but his paternal instinct comes from practically raising his brother, Sean, after his dad's untimely death.

The casual interview reveals enough about the victimology that when you head back to the station, Gideon calls the officers in to explain the profile.

You can feel Morgan's agitation wafting off of him as he watches Gideon state his assumptions with startling clarity and confidence. Hotch, on the other hand, looks contemplative, which reminds you that he's been tasked with the returning agent's evaluation.

He can see your furtive glances in his direction, even as you try to remain secretive about your interest in his demeanor. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling as he thinks about how lucky you are that you went into profiling and not covert operations.

You have never been especially good at keeping your own thoughts or intentions to yourself around him. While some would call that a weakness in this field, he sees it as your greatest strength, because it clearly shows how much he can trust you.

As a kid, you were outspoken about every idea you had, and you used your strength and willpower to look out for him when he needed it. It took him a long time to admit how much he used to need you (maybe too long), but you always knew.

***

Gideon's profile leads to the arrest of Richard Slessman and Tim Vogel, and Elle manages to save the last girl while she's still alive. You catch your breath for the first time in 36 hours as you stand with Hotch in the shipyard, watching the paramedics and local police clear the scene.

"What are you going to tell them?" you ask under your breath as his gaze turns to Gideon, who is getting patched up in the back of an ambulance.

He had goaded the unsub into shooting him instead of the girl, but your mind can't seem to focus on the silver lining.

Hotch sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, as though to hold his coat closed against the breeze. "They want to know if he's fit to be a field agent again."

Normally, you would give him shit for using that tactic. Avoiding a question by providing more information. This time, you know he's just thinking out loud.

"What would you say?" Hotch asks as Morgan walks over and sits on a barrel next to you.

"Gideon saved her life," Derek shrugs, his eyes flashing to you for a moment. "That's good enough for me."

Hotch seems to ponder this for a second. "Do you know what Gideon means in Hebrew?"

"Mighty warrior," Reid interjects, popping in to the conversation with the subtlety of a tiger.

You're confused at first, but then you remember the baby names book that was sitting in Hotch's living room the last time you visited him. "You cannot let Haley name your child Gideon."

Hotch laughs suddenly, and you can tell you surprised it out of him. Your chest warms comfortably as he smiles, his cheeks flushing softly in the chill air.

He looks over at Gideon again, deciding in real time that he's going to recommend him to come back to the team. He would never admit it to you or anyone, but he knows that if your position on the team was in jeopardy from Gideon's return, he wouldn't have been able to complete his evaluation fairly.

It was Hotch who recommended you for the open position after he was promoted into Gideon's role as unit chief. You deserved the spot, of course, but Jeff's death had still been fresh and he knew better than most how much the job can take one's mind off of the other aspects of their life.

While Hotch watches Gideon, you watch him. You can tell from the look on his face that it's a done deal. Jason's coming back to the team. It will be a change of pace for everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't be good.

Having joined the team right after the bombing, you saw exactly how Gideon changed after getting the profile wrong, but so did everyone else. What people didn't talk about was how Aaron changed too. Rising into the rank. Growing to fill the hole that Gideon left in the unit, but somehow also shrinking into himself at the same time, because that's what this job does to you...it takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left to give.

But sometimes that's what you need: to give something up so you know you aren't losing everything.

***

Gideon settles into the team faster than you anticipated, and soon it's almost like he never left. Even though you can see the vein on Morgan's neck pulsate every time he hijacks a profile, you can't help but appreciate the support he gives to Spencer and Elle, both of whom are becoming incredible profilers before your very eyes.

That's also why you find yourself a little worried when Hotch tells you that Reid failed his weapons recertification.

"I thought you said you were helping him practice," you say as the two of you walk past security and toward the bullpen.

"I was," he emphasizes, before correcting himself, "I did. I'm sure he was just nervous."

You nod, pushing open the doors and spotting Reid sitting quietly at his desk. "He can test again in two weeks. He'll be fine."

When Morgan hands him a whistle with a quippy joke, you sigh into your coffee tumbler, but don't bother stepping in. He's being childish, but if you try to intervene, it'll just embarrass Spencer more.

"Okay," JJ starts, "Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon."

She dives into the case, but you have already read the file (and you know Reid has too) so you scoot your chair over to his desk and lean forward so only he can hear you. "I failed my first weapons certification at the bureau too."

Spencer looks up immediately, his face colored with surprise. "Really? You're one of the best shots I know."

You smile with a shrug. "The tests aren't real life. When it comes down to it, I get the job done. Just like you will."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a small smile. You both turn your attention back to the front just as JJ finishes explaining the case details.

"Wheels up in 30."

The flight to Illinois is filled with heated discussions about the bureau's fruitless history of trying to profile long distance serial killers.

"L. D. S. K.s are so rare, we haven't been able to build a standard profile," Hotch explains as the jet reaches cruising altitude.

Gideon chimes in immediately. "Here's what we do know: they're always male, and they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."

Elle looks confused and you echo her sentiment as you lean your hip against her armrest. "To take credit or relive the experience?"

"Both," he says simply. "All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim, contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have."

"Our unsub hasn't contacted anybody," you point out. "What do we do until then?"

"Sometimes it's not what the unsub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do."

Reid glances up from the file in his lap, and you notice that he looks at Gideon first. "He doesn't kill his victims."

"Underkill's a unique signature," Hotch ponders, standing up and walking along the cabin. He only paces when he's deep in thought. "The question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"

The team is silent as you take in this new analysis. You're not surprised when Gideon is the first to speak up. "Specifically, does the unsub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?"

When the plane lands, you check out the last crime scene before spending the day talking to the local police and the victims' surgeons at the nearby hospital.

That night, when you check into your hotel room, the click of the door lock closing behind you is a welcome relief from the tension of the day. Many of the Des Plaines police officers were unhappy with the team's initial assessment, because it heavily implied that the unsub may have been a law enforcement official himself.

You wash your face and change into a tee shirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, before climbing into bed and opening the case file back up again. The rest of the team has also gone to their own rooms, but you can't help but wish you had another set of eyes looking at this with you.

As though reading your mind, a knock thuds on your door and you stand up quickly, in case it's an emergency. When you check the peephole, you see Hotch standing way too close to the door.

Unlocking it slowly so you don't startle him, you open the door to find him in still in a full suit.

"Is there a problem?" you ask immediately. "Do I need to get dressed?"

He shakes his head, glancing around the hallway so quickly that you almost miss it. "I was just looking over the profile and I wanted your opinion on some thoughts I had."

The corner of your mouth twitches and you open the door further to let him in. He doesn't miss a beat as he takes a seat on the armchair in front of your bed and flips open his notepad.

"I was thinking about the bullet we recovered on the scene," he says slowly, like he's thinking through every word he's saying.

You nod, sitting on top of the bed covers and crossing your legs under you. "Garcia called after you left the station. The bullet was a .223 fired from the M-4 variant of the M-16."

"That means he's military," Hotch says, reaching his hand out without taking his eyes off his notepad. You close the case file you had laid out and hand it to him. "M-4 is a shorter barrel than the M-16, so it's less accurate and a lot harder to fire, especially at these distances."

"This level of skill indicates specialized training. That means..."

"It means the underkill was on purpose," Hotch says, finishing your thought. "What is he trying to prove?"

You purse your lips as he sits up in the chair to give himself room to remove his jacket. His pinstriped button-down is slightly crinkled under his arms, but you can tell it was freshly ironed this morning.

"Maybe he's in a fast-paced occupation," you suggest, "which would fit with the profile that he has a big ego."

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

You lean forward, your eyes following his hands as they fidget with his cuffs and undo the buttons, one at a time. You've always been attune to every one of his movements, but maybe it's just because you've spent so much time around him.

"Hotch," you whisper-yell, snagging his attention from your case file, which he tosses back to you.

He hums and you take that as an invitation to continue speaking. "Be careful tomorrow, when you're giving the profile."

One of his eyebrows lifts and you can tell he's holding back a smile. "It's just in front of the Des Planes PD. You'll be there too."

"It's not that," you sigh, shaking your head. "Everything about this profile points to the shooter being either current or former law enforcement. I'd be surprised if they didn't take it personally."

His eyes flit up to yours, his brow furrowing. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Hotch," you say with a breathy laugh. "Doesn't mean I don't still look out for you."

He pauses and it's like his whole body takes a beat. "I know."

***

You're talking to Dr. Landman with Derek, Elle, and Jason the next day when a gunshot rings out through the hospital. Last you checked, Hotch and Reid were in the E.R., but you haven't heard from them since you arrived.

"It's Phillip Dowd," a nurse informs you when you meet with local police outside the closed E.R. door.

After a quick call to Penelope, the profile becomes clear.

"He joined the army at 18," Gideon recites, pacing around the room in a vaguely reminiscent manner, "went to ranger school, did 6 years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it, joined the Arlington P. D."

"You were right," the police captain sighs. "He was a cop."

His hopeless tone is disheartening, and you find yourself upset for not the first time that your team was correct in their assessment.

After the initial commotion, the E.R. is silent except for a few muffled voices. You can't hear what's being said, but the lack of gunshots or loud noises is all that's keeping you from falling apart.

"It'll be okay," you hear whispered from next to you. You turn to see Derek, who presses his shoulder to yours briefly. "Hotch will know what to do."

You know there's nothing you can do from out here, especially with how precarious the situation inside is, but doing nothing has never been your strong suit.

"I know," you tell him, echoing your thoughts. "I just wish we could help."

Derek cocks his head at the S.W.A.T. team readying themselves to break the door down. "We can help. We need to give Hotch and the kid time to wear Dowd down."

His tone is light and you feel yourself laugh, ignoring the thickness that swells in your throat. "That shouldn't take long."

Derek bumps your arm again in a silent extension of comfort, and you mouth a silent thank you.

You can feel Gideon losing patience as he reasons with the captain, but he eventually buys them three minutes to do what they can. When the final five second countdown starts, you unconsciously hold your breath, only to be released when Hotch's voice calls through the door.

"Hold your fire!"

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you squeeze Derek's arm before rushing forward. Hotch stumbles past you with a murmur that sounds obscurely like "help Reid", so you push your way through the throng of civilians moving to escape until you see him.

"Spencer," you gasp, crouching down to help him into a standing position. You would never admit it to him, but ever since he joined the team, he's been something of a little brother to you. "What happened in here? Are you okay?"

"You were right," he says with a surprising steadiness to his voice. "I got the job done."

You don't ask what he means, knowing that Hotch will fill you in when the time is right. Instead, you decide not to fight the vaguely maternal urge rising within you and you pull him into a tight hug. It's more of a quick squeeze, because you don't want to push past his physical boundaries, but he doesn't complain, instead looking over at you with a small smile that's more than enough for now.

***

You find Hotch where the departed ambulance that patched Reid up was parked. All of the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and local police officers and bureau agents comes to a standstill as you walk over to where he's sitting on the edge of the curb.

"I heard what happened," you say as a way to announce your presence. "Can I sit?"

He nods without looking up, and you crouch down next to him, settling on the curb with your shoulder pressed to his. You can feel the tension in his muscles as he grips the sidewalk, his palms digging into the concrete like he could break through if he pressed hard enough. "Reid.."

"..is fine," you whisper, nudging him so he looks up to where Spencer and Jason are chattering excitedly. "He's more proud than anything."

He doesn't say anything, so you bump your knee against his. "I guess all of the physical training classes you made him take at the academy paid off."

He knows you know exactly what is running through his mind, so he doesn't bother trying to articulate it. Instead, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and looks over at you. "Do you remember that self-defense class we took before law school?"

You're not expecting this question, and you almost laugh. "You mean the singular self-defense class you dragged me to before dawn in the summer before we started at Georgetown?"

He levels you with a look that you would think is serious if you didn't know him so well. "You don't regret it, though."

"No," you smile, your eyes blurring with emotion. That's where you met Jeff. "I don't."

He was your instructor that day. He only taught that class twice a week, between lectures at Georgetown Law, and it doesn't escape your mind that you so easily could've missed him. One day earlier or later and you never would've met him, never would've been his girlfriend, or his wife, or his widow.

Hotch remembers meeting him that day too. He had to literally come to your apartment and drag you out of bed to make the seven AM class that he had signed you both up for, and you had been grumpy the whole drive over.

There wasn't much, other than coffee, that could get you alert before eight in the morning, but the moment you walked into that gym, it was like you were wide awake. He spent the rest of the class trying not to look as the man he would later come to know as Agent Adler kept coming over to give you extra pointers, and he pretended that the coil of ice slithering up his spine was there just because he was watching out for you.

When he found out the two of you had started dating, he continued to pretend the nausea rising in his stomach was from the day-old sandwich he had had for lunch, because it wasn't fair. Especially since he was with Haley, and he was happier than he had ever been, even if the new law school course load was making it harder to see her as often as he wanted to.

But eventually, your happiness with him overpowered every protective urge he felt, and he realized that even if there was a feeling in his gut that he didn't recognize when he saw you two together, Jeff was perfectly suited for you.

***

"He's so gorgeous!" JJ coos, her hands twitching at her sides like she's trying not to reach forward and take the baby out of Haley's hands.

She brought Jack, their newborn son, in to work today to show the team, and Hotch looks prouder than you've ever seen him. "Thank you."

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

"Reid!" you chastise, swatting at him. He dodges your hands without even looking.

"Look at his widdy biddy nose," Garcia squeals, before turning to Morgan with an inquisitive look. "Don't you want one of these?"

He just laughs as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Mm, I'll stick to practicing."

"Congratulations," Elle chimes in before returning to Gideon's side to continue discussing the new case that came in. She's always on top of things, and it's something you respect greatly about her.

"Thanks," Hotch smiles, his gaze returning to Jack after looking away for only a moment. Jack is like a siren, the way each of his little sounds or movements holds Hotch's attention so steadily. He's the most focused of all of you, but you've still never seen him this enamored. "She's amazing. I'm a little terrified."

"You're glowing," you tell Haley as the rest of the team heads to the briefing room. "How is it that you had a baby just a few weeks ago?"

"You're sweet," she smiles, before tilting her head forward. "Do you want to hold him? You're practically his aunt."

You gasp quietly, so as not to wake little Jack. "That is a title I will carry proudly. And yes, I would love to hold him."

Haley hands him to you slowly, and you make sure to support his head carefully as you cup your arms around him. He looks so much like Haley that you almost make a joke about Hotch's genes not even putting up a fight, but that nose...that nose has Hotch written all over it.

When you glance back to where the team left from, you see him turn back at the same moment and offer you an encouraging smile.

"How are you holding up?" you ask Haley, barely able to focus on your surroundings with a newborn in your arms. Maybe there is something to the siren thing.

"Jack's been incredible. He barely cries, it's kind of a godsend...but I do wish Aaron could take time off with me."

You give her what you hope is your most comforting smile. "We've been super swamped with cases here, but in all my years working with him, I have never seen him so eager to leave every night."

She laughs, a pretty sound you remember from your youth. "I know. I feel so unfair when I complain about these things, but I appreciate you humoring me."

"Not at all," you assure her, glancing back down at Jack, who is mid-yawn. "I understand completely. If I had one of these little guys, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else."

You hear her breath catch and you open your mouth to reassure her that it's fine, but she is already reaching forward to squeeze your arm. "You and Jeff would have made amazing parents."

When you both joined the bureau, you were so busy with work that kids weren't on your mind at all. It wasn't until you got settled at the BAU, and Jeff found his place with organized crime, that you even started talking about it.

You want kids, don't you?

Only a few. Maybe four or five. Yeah, five's a good number.

"I should get back to the team," you say softly, blinking away the memories.

Haley sees your face and she smiles sadly as she takes Jack back from your arms. "I'll see you soon. Tell him I'm heading home, will you?"

You nod and watch the elevator doors close in front of her, before joining the team.

***

"I can't believe you went bar hopping without me," Derek shakes his head, feigning offense as he leans so far back in his chair you're afraid it may tip over.

"I think hopping is kind of a strong word," you say, glancing over at Elle, who is perched on the edge of your desk. "We only had one bar in mind, but it closed earlier than we thought, so we went somewhere else after."

"This was a much needed girl's night," Elle grins, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he continues to pout. "We'll invite you next time."

"How was your weekend, Dr. Reid?" you ask, turning around to face him.

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

You say his name again, recalling the attention of Derek and Elle, who had started talking about some trip they've been planning for what feels like months.

When he still doesn't look up, you pick up one of the BAU-provided pens on your desk and chuck it at him, just hard enough to bridge the gap between your desks, but not so hard that it hurts on impact.

"Ow!" Spencer yelps anyway, glancing up with a look that's somewhere between confusion and indignation. He picks the pen up off the ground and turns it over to see the tiny insignia on the cap. "This is FBI property."

"How was your weekend, Spencer?" you ask again, ignoring him. "Didn't you say you had some fun stuff planned?"

"I did," he lights up, instantly forgetting about the pen incident. "My local movie theater was showing reruns of the first season of the original Star Trek, so I got to experience it on the big screen."

Derek laughs and walks back over to his desk next to yours. "We have very different definitions of fun weekend plans, kid."

You're about to tell Derek that no one wants to hear what his idea of fun is when the office door upstairs flies open and Hotch and Gideon walk out.

Reid hands you back your pen, and Derek sits up in his chair so fast it's almost comical.

"We have another case," Hotch announces before coming to a stop.

Gideon takes it away. "Our unsub is male, intelligent, organized and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who's been killing for a long time."

"Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore indicating some tie to him."

Hotch turns to you. "You, Elle, and Reid stay on Condore's background with Garcia. The rest of us will head to the crime scene."

You nod before standing up. "Let's go, kids."

Penelope's lair is just as eccentric as you remember it.

"Take a seat," she instructs before logging into her computer and opening up her criminal history database. "Just don't get too comfortable."

Your lips quirk up as Elle flashes her eyes at you, and you nod your head at the empty chair on Garcia's opposite side. Reid is already sitting on a desk chair by the back, spinning in aimless circles as he rattles off a list of markers to search for.

After a minute, Penelope stops typing. "Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes, preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in Fells Point."

You pick up a stress toy shaped like a tomato from one of her shelves and bounce it in your palm, just for something to occupy your hands.

"What about his associates?" Elle asks, grabbing a pen with a pom-pom on the end and poking it at Spencer's knee.

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

Penelope frowns, and looks pointedly at the pen in her hand.

"She's holding the tomato!" Elle complains, throwing a finger at you.

You lift up your hands in surrender, dropping the stress toy. "Thanks a lot, Greenaway."

"Anyway," Reid interrupts, to everyone's surprise, "One of these guys is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet."

Penelope turns back to her computer as Spencer reads over her shoulder. "He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder, was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for, and this is in order, armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rapе."

"What's so interesting about that?"

"When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history? It just isn't probable."

Elle nods in agreement. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes?"

"It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder," you sigh. "It just does not make sense."

***

Hotch calls you into his office when he and Morgan return from Baker's address. You can tell something is off before you even step through the door, so you shut it behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.

"What's going on?" you ask, your eyes glancing over his face to see if his micro-expressions can give you a hint. "What's wrong?"

He looks up with a sigh, his hands clasped on his desk. "Baker's place was an artificial dwelling, and the weapon we recovered on the scene was standard law enforcement issue."

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's trying to say - a few seconds longer than usual - and your breath stutters in your throat. "He was undercover?"

"That's what it looks like," Hotch agrees. "I wanted to inform you before telling the rest of the team."

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

We'll call you as soon as we know more.

The memories start to flood back in and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter before opening them. Hotch looks blurry for a moment until your eyes adjust to the light again.

"Does organized crime know where he is?" you ask, desperately needing to fill the silence.

He looks down at the case file. "We assume so, but it's not like they would tell us. They weren't too happy that we were taking on this case at all, and now we know why."

"Maybe they'll talk to me," you suggest, even though the idea of talking to Josh Cramer makes you taste bile. You haven't seen him since a month after the funeral. It's not for his lack of trying, you just couldn't stomach looking at any of them after what happened. One missed call turned to ten and eventually they stopped trying.

There's a piercing pain behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut for a momentary relief. "It was only supposed to be three months."

Hotch's brow furrows and you don't look up at him just yet. You can already picture his expression, the anguish you know he feels for you whenever you bring up Jeff.

"It was a three month operation," you continue, knowing you won't be able to discuss it later if you stop talking now. "That's all we signed up for. Three months away from me and then he was on leave for the rest of the year, so that we could focus on us again. Maybe even start a family."

Your voice cracks on the last word and you tilt your head down to hide your face. He hates it when you cry, but that's not fair. He knows how important it is to get your emotions out, so they don't pile up inside of you, but if he had his way, you would never have had a reason to cry in the first place.

"I hadn't seen him in over a month when he was..."

He can hear the tightness in your voice and he resists the overwhelming urge to reach his hand out and take yours. You're sitting a foot back from the desk, and it's not he could reach you from here anyway, but his fingers still ache.

"I don't want to blame them, Aaron," you sigh. Your words sound watery, and he pulls a handkerchief out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to you. He's almost surprised when you accept the gesture, pressing the cloth square under your eyes to catch the tears leaking out. You were so self-reliant as a kid, never wanting or needing anyone else's help. "I don't want to blame them, but I do. I can't help it, I just do."

Someone else would have consoled you. They would have assured you that feeling this way was natural, and that no one could blame you for feeling what you do, but that isn't who you two are. "Jeff wouldn't."

His name is like a dagger to your heart. You practically wince as Hotch digs further. "That team was his family, just like we are yours. He wouldn't blame them, not for this. Not for something he chose."

Something he chose. This is why you don't let yourself remember that day. This is why you kept that day - the day you got that horrible call - locked up inside your brain, where not even you could reach it. Because if you let yourself think about it and remember, then you will remember that it wasn't really Cramer or his unit or the bureau that you blamed. It was him.

For choosing to miss his pick-up. For choosing to go undercover. For choosing to join organized crime.

You take a deep breath and re-adjust yourself in the uncomfortable chair Hotch refuses to replace, even though it's literally splitting at the seams. Something about your tax dollars hard at work. "What are you going to do about Baker?"

He lets you change the subject. "We have to contact Agent Cramer before-

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Sorry?" Hotch frowns, both of you standing up immediately.

Cramer doesn't take his eyes off Hotch as he seethes with anger. "I told you, this is my case! You ran my agent through IBIS?"

"Because I wanted to know who he worked for and now that I do, I'd like to talk to him."

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

Hotch looks at you then, and finally Cramer notices your presence. "Y/N...it's been a while."

Your lips press into a thin line. "Almost two years." The anger you've been trying to avoid seeps into your voice against your will and you sigh, returning to the investigation. "How long has Baker been missing?"

"About 12 hours."

"You think he ran?" you ask, watching Cramer closely as his jaw ticks.

"No, Jimmy's too experienced to run without contact."

He realizes his misstep immediately and his shoulders fall. To his credit, he doesn't break eye contact, even as his expression softens. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that I think someone's keeping Jimmy from calling in."

You can feel Aaron looking at you, but you avoid his line of sight. If you're going to have to interact with organized crime, you might as well make yourself useful. "We all want the same thing, Cramer: to get Baker back to his family."

You wait outside as he explains the situation in more detail to Hotch and Gideon, and you're surprised when he's the first to leave. "Can we talk?"

Hotch comes out behind him and raises his eyebrow for a fraction of a second, a check-in. Swallowing thickly, you nod your head and follow him down the hall to the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry I haven't reached out recently," he says as soon as you're out of earshot of the others. "You know Jeff was one of our top guys."

Your eyes shut at his name, as though someone clapped their hands too close to your face. It's almost laughable how sure you were that you were past your grief. You passed the bureau's psych evaluation after your six month leave with flying colors (because your team practically wrote the answers yourselves), and as each new day passed and you weren't so debilitated by just the thought of him, you thought it meant you were fine. Because time heals all wounds. At least it's supposed to.

"I know," you whisper scratchily, before clearing your throat. "I know that. And it's okay. We've all been busy." You look down at the bustling bullpen where his agents are interacting with your team. "Clearly."

Then you remember you're job here in the first place. "We really are just trying to help. It wouldn't hurt to keep us involved."

Cramer sighs and you know he won't refuse. "We'll loop you in."

***

James Baker is found and Vincent Perotta gets taken into custody, but you can still hear the end of the interrogation ringing in your ears.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent.

When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.

And some people grow up to catch them."

You can't pinpoint exactly what you're feeling, but if you had to guess, it would be sorrow. Sorrow for that little boy who got dealt the worst hand you can imagine, and still turned into the best version of who he could've been.

Hotch can't get the interrogation out of his mind either. He had grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the elevators as soon as Perotta was taken away, in the hopes of avoiding everybody. He's about to let out his breath when a hand reaches between the doors and sends them flying open again.

Normally your appearance is a welcome sight, but tonight, he's had enough talking. Perotta took everything he had to give, and then some, and he doesn't know if he has the strength to go through the proceedings again with you.

"I just want to get home," he says as you stand next to him without a word and face the doors. To my family.

You don't say anything as the little fluorescent floor number ticks down - has it always been this slow - and he feels his nerves tighten with agitation. You're never silent, especially not about something like this.

Just before the elevator reaches the second floor, you reach forward and pull the emergency stop button. He whispers your name, half irritated half relieved, and you step in front of him, focusing your eyes on his. It's a classic profiler technique, both to mentally establish trust and to physically block him from the keypad.

"You're a great father, Aaron."

His mind flashes back 25 years, but he squeezes the hand in his pocket into a fist to keep himself from succumbing to the memories. "I'm trying."

He knows what you're doing, and he would normally be open to a healthy exchange between two adults, but tonight he just can't. It's too fresh.

You seem to understand at least a fraction of what he's trying to convey. Your next words are gentle. "That already makes you a thousand times better than him."

That almost makes him smile. "You can say his name, you know."

You shrug, looking at him with a glint in your eye. "Honestly, I don't think I can. I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of ash, with the fury your father instills in me."

That's what gets him. He coughs out a laugh that echoes around the elevator, and you return to his side, giving him a moment to breathe on his own.

This time, when his mind spirals back to his childhood, he's not as equipped to block it. The memories come in flashes, a blackening bruise on his abdomen, a split lip explained away through roughhousing in the backyard, the thin scars on his hands and elbows as he finally started to fight back. He would've taken it all forever if he had to, if it meant that he could keep the horrors away from the people he loved. "I really should go."

"Yeah." You push the emergency stop back into place and the elevator hits the ground floor in no time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hotch."

He steps out, half expecting you to follow him. Instead, the doors close and he's by himself again, and he suddenly can't remember why he wanted to be alone in the first place.

***

When the Keystone Killer is finally caught after 18 years of inactivity, he finds himself expecting for there to be some sort of celebration, either in the form of a commendation, or a much-needed break. Instead, what he gets is a mountain of paperwork.

He usually doesn't mind the paperwork that comes after a long case. It's a helpful way for him to sort through his thoughts on what went down, and to learn from mistakes that were made along the way, whether in the profile or in the capture of the unsub.

Lately, paperwork has felt like an added torture to the long hours he already spends at work. It's not that he wasn't excited about going home before, but ever since Jack was born, he hasn't been able to get out of the office fast enough. But being the unit chief of the BAU has its responsibilities, and this is one of them.

He's drowning in consultation files and case reports when you knock on his door, two coffees in hand.

"Thought that was you," he says, finishing the sentence he was writing.

You frown, setting one steaming cup down on his desk. He hasn't even looked up yet. "How'd you know? Or do you just say that to everyone who walks in here?"

His lip twitches and he puts his pen down. "I could smell the coffee. It always smells the same when you make it."

"Oh?" You weren't aware you had a method. "And how's that?"

"Burnt."

You take the lid off your cup and chuck it at him with surprising accuracy. It would have thwacked him in the forehead if he hadn't swatted it aside with his stupid catlike reflexes.

"What are you working on?" you ask after taking a scalding sip of perfectly brewed coffee.

He looks up for a beat before diving back into the file he was skimming. "Paperwork for the Keystone Killer case."

"But we just finished that," you point out before reaching forward and taking the file out from under his nose.

He huffs. "I was...looking at that."

"This is a report on what happened a couple of hours ago," you say, ignoring his remark. "You can easily do this tomorrow, or later this week."

"It's fresh in my mind now. I don't want to forget any details."

You shrug in a motion that says 'fair enough'. "Or, you could actually go home before midnight for once."

You slide another file off the top of his pile and flip it open, reading over the notes Hotch has scribbled in the margins. He's so meticulous about his job that you almost forget he was promoted just a little over a year ago. He became unit chief at the same time that you joined the team, so you didn't get to see him in his early days, but looking at him now, you almost can't imagine it. It's like he's built for this, for taking responsibility and leading people with kindness and respect.

"Elle said something on the plane today," he says suddenly, jerking you from your thoughts.

You close the file and look up as he runs a hand over his head, pushing his thick hair back just for it to bounce forward again. "She said that she's scared she's going to look up and see that her life has passed her by while she was chasing monsters."

Something cold runs through your veins and you sit up straighter in your chair. "And what did you say?"

"I told her the truth."

You smile in an effort to keep your eyes from shining. "What, that we're all doomed?"

He looks at you candidly. "That this job will eat you up if you let it." Your smile falls and he continues. "You just can't let it."

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

That gets a laugh out of you, even if the good humor doesn't last long. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"This job, while also being a husband, and a father." You sigh, and you can almost feel the weight of the air as it leaves your body. "When I go home, I don't have to be anything to anyone. Most of the time it feels awful, but sometimes, after an especially bad case, I'm almost relieved when I can go home and just check out."

You aren't talking about him anymore, and he can tell. He doesn't mind, if this is what it will take for you to work through your emotions.

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

That surprises him. Not that you wanted to be a mother - he knows that - but that he didn't know you were already thinking about it, especially because of how you grew up. You don't talk about it often, but after losing your mother to a drunk driver when you were ten, you almost transformed into her, becoming the emotional support for your family when there was no one else to fill that role.

You press your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath, your coffee cold and forgotten on the desk in front of you. "We had been talking about it for years, but with the paths our careers were taking, there just wasn't enough time before then." Your eyes look far away, and you don't seem to notice that your lips have unconsciously curved up into a reminiscent smile. "Jeff wanted five kids. Five. God, can you imagine?"

He can, but he doesn't say anything, because he knows you aren't looking for a response. Just for someone to listen.

"I'm an only child," you say with a laugh. "I don't even know what it's like to have one sibling, let alone four." But Jeff had come from a huge family, and he had wanted you to experience that. He loved how full his home always felt growing up, never without someone to talk to. Now you won't ever get to experience that. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we had tried earlier."

"You'll have it someday," Hotch says simply, practically reading your mind. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."

"I waited so long," you whisper, closing your eyes for a long moment. "I was just so afraid that I wouldn't do it right, because I didn't have my mother anymore to help me."

"You would've been a great mother," he assures you, his voice confident. "One day, you will be."

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you clear your throat to keep the tears at bay. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

***

When you push through the doors to the bullpen the next morning, you are greeted by a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Sean?"

He turns around slowly, clearly recognizing your voice, and pulls his lips up into a smile that you return. "Hey, Y/N, how's it going?"

You weren't close to him as a kid, mostly because of the age gap between him and Hotch. You had tried to make more of an effort after graduating college, but Sean was fierce in his convictions, and there were a lot of things he didn't understand about his childhood that you certainly weren't going to explain to him now.

"Good, good," you say, leading him away from the throng of staring women. You shoot them a look that makes them disperse. "You here for your brother? He's upstairs."

He nods, glancing up at the closed office door. You start to lead him to the stairwell when he stops in his tracks and turns to you. "What mood's he in?"

"Why?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "You got bad news? Nothing I need to worry about, I hope."

Sean shakes his head, glancing up at the closed door again. "Nothing like that. I'll just go up."

You let him walk up on his own, knowing he doesn't want you getting involved in whatever he's thinking about. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, the three women return to your side.

"That's Hotch's brother?" Penelope asks, standing so close you can feel her breath on your ear.

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

"What do you mean?" you ask, unconsciously glancing up the stairs. "They're honestly pretty similar." You're only half joking. They don't look anything alike, but that Hotchner brand of righteousness runs deep.

JJ frowns. "I don't see it."

"Yeah, he looks...like that," Penelope murmurs, before looking at you. "Did you know him when you were younger? Was he hot then too?"

You choke on your own spit. "He was nine years old when I left for college, so...no."

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

You look up to see Sean storming down the stairs, Hotch hot on his heels.

"Sean, listen to me."

He turns so fast, you're afraid they're going to crash into each other. "Don't profile me, Aaron."

Sean stomps out of the bullpen while Hotch watches him leave, and you can't get the striking feeling of deja vu out of your head. Two boys, 15 years younger than they are now, standing in the same positions, with the same looks on their faces.

You imagine that you and Hotch probably act the same way around each other as when you first met, at eight years old.

The memory comes easily, even with more than two decades of time standing in the way. The little boy with dark hair who had sat next to you on the school bus, just because there were no other empty seats available that day.

You hadn't said anything for the first few stops, just watched him out of the corner of your eye as he nodded his head unconsciously to the music coming out of his large headphones. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you tapped on his shoulder. "What are you listening to?"

He had taken his headphones off quickly, as though caught in the act. "What?"

You repeated your question before leveling him with a pointed stare that meant 'there is a correct answer'. You were a feisty kid, and you weren't always the best at making first impressions, so his steady response impressed you. "Beatles. Revolver album."

"I love that one!" you had gushed, leaning in closer without a warning to press your ear to one of the speakers on his headphones. "Is this Yellow Submarine?"

He had nodded, the confusion in his eyes slowly transforming into delight. "You know their stuff?"

"Of course. My favorite's Eleanor Rigby."

He had frowned then. "That one's too sad."

You weren't surprised by his opinion. You had yet to find a boy your age who could appreciate serious music, but liking The Beatles was a start, at least.

"I'm Y/N," you had said, extending your hand like you were starting a business meeting.

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

The school bus had stopped at your street then, and you had gotten up without another word to this boy, who would one day become your best friend in the world.

Luckily, the next day, Aaron chose to sit next to you again, this time with a second pair of headphones to attach to his compact cassette deck. Two days turned to three, and before long, you had a new friend.

***

"I can't imagine what two weeks away from this place is gonna feel like," you sigh, packing some essentials into your bag and snapping it shut. "I might actually miss you guys."

"Not me," Morgan grins, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as he zips around you. "Two weeks of pure heaven with nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories."

"Your friend's resort better be as nice as you say it is," Elle says sternly as she wiggles her finger at Derek, who is busy inviting Reid to join their vacation.

"Thanks, but I'm going home," he says quickly, without looking at any of you. "Have a good one, guys."

"I'll head out too," you announce, grabbing your things and following him to the elevators. "Wait up, Spence."

He doesn't seem to hear you, but you slip through the doors just before they close. "You okay?"

"Huh?" he says, finally looking up. "Oh, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the Nevada heat."

You can tell he's lying, but you don't want to press him right before the long break. "You can always call me if you need anything. Seriously."

"Yeah," he nods. "I know."

You wave goodbye to him in the parking lot, and you're back in the silence of your home by the end of the hour.

The rest of your day is spent lazing around the house, and you're asleep when you hear a knock at your door. After Jeff's death, you started keeping your gun in your nightstand, more out of a general sense of security than any specific acute fear, but its proximity during late night calls has given you the peace of mind you needed to finally sleep through the night.

Lifting it from the drawer, you hold it behind your back as you tiptoe to your front door and look through the peephole. When you don't see anyone, you carefully pull the door open, only to find a small packet sitting on your welcome mat with your name scrawled on the top.

After bringing it inside the house and locking the door again, you pry open the seal and extract a large piece of paper covered in a series of numbers and dots.

That's when the phone rings.

***

"How's it going?" you ask Reid and Morgan as you enter the conference room where all of the Fisher King's clues have been laid out. Neither of them have taken their eyes off the paper you brought in since you tacked it up on the board.

As expected, Reid doesn't look up. "The answer to what book we need has to be in here."

"Yeah," Derek sighs, glancing over at you, "but we sure as hell can't see it."

"Yet."

You look at the numbers again, hoping that your short walk to the coffee station and back would have been enough to unlock something new in your brain. Nothing. "The answer has to be based on specific details of each person's clue." A small sound turns your attention to the couch, where Elle is lying on her side. "Is Elle asleep?"

"I'm awake!" she starts, sitting up lethargically.

At the outburst, Hotch walks into the room and points at her bags. "I'm sending you home. You need to get some rest."

"No-"

"We won't do anything without you, I promise."

"Elle, seriously, we're not any closer than we were."

She nods, her lack of sleep seeming to dawn on her as she yawns again.

"Anderson," Hotch calls out, before you stop him. "What is it?"

"I can take her home," you suggest, looking over your shoulder as she lugs her bags down the hall with bleary eyes. He looks like he wants to protest, so you speak up before he has the chance. "She barely knows Anderson. I'll make sure she's settled, and then you can send him to watch her house, so I can come back here."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he sighs, his eyes still trained on Elle's silhouette lingering by the elevator. "We may need you here."

You cock your head at Reid and Morgan, who have been sitting in the same positions for so long, you're surprised their necks haven't locked. "It's like they said. We haven't made any progress in over an hour. I'm not helping here."

He still looks unsure, but you know it's just worry. He'll always worry about you. "Okay, go. Call me in an hour to check-in."

You dip your head in a nod and jog through the bullpen to catch Elle as she's heading out.

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

You laugh, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Something like that."

"Good," Elle says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, "you're much more fun than Anderson."

"Prettier, too."

The car ride to her house starts off silent, but eventually you break your internal promise to let her come to you. "How are you feeling after last night?"

She just shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything. I'm just glad I got to enjoy at least some of my vacation."

"I heard there was blood all over your room," you point out lightly, trying to broach the subject in a delicate manner. "That can't have been fun to wake up to."

"It was all on the outside. That's part of why they weren't able to hold me. That, and Hotch's lawyer chops."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her as you pull over to the sidewalk. "His lawyer chops?" You know he used to be a prosecutor before joining the bureau, but you never got to see his skills in action.

"Yeah," Elle gushes, her face brightening considerably, "you should have seen the way he walked in there. Those beat cops had no idea what hit 'em. He was in full prosecutor mode, went all rainmaker on them until they released me."

You can imagine it. If any of you were in trouble, he wouldn't let anything get between him and your safety. "I wish I could've seen that."

When you put the car in park, you help Elle with her bags and walk her up to her door, where she insists that she'll be fine on her own.

"I promised I would wait with you until another agent could come and relieve me," you emphasize, instinctively scanning the vicinity around her home as she walks inside and drops her things on the floor.

"In about thirty seconds, I'll be passed out on this couch right here," she points at the window seat behind her, "so you'll just be watching me sleep for an hour."

You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off. "Y/N, I'll be fine."

If there's one word to describe Elle, it's stubborn, so you let her shut the door behind her and you walk back to your car. Even if she won't let you sit with her inside, you still can't bring yourself to start the ignition, so you lean your seat back halfway and close your eyes, just for a few moments.

You haven't gotten much sleep either, and you're about to doze off when you hear a loud thud from outside the car. Jerking up, you undo the clasp of your holster and push open the car door. The world is silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind, but you start making your way up the drive, just to be sure. There's another thud, quieter this time, and you reach for your sidearm as you ascend her porch steps. Then comes a gunshot.

You start running.

1K notes · View notes

golden1u5t · 8 months ago

Text

playboy bunny | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: suggestive

ꨄ summary: while being questioned in regards to a murder investigation, your only way of proving your innocence is the tattoo you have on your underboob.

you're sitting in the chilly interrogation room, your arms folded in as goosebumps spread across your skin. the only thing you had on was a thin tank top and a pair of shorts the officers had given you to cover up the bathing suit you were wearing.

they hadn't said much when they brought you in, there was a ringing of shock in your brain that only allowed you to process the words 'murder investigation'.

after sitting in the cold room for at least half an hour, the door finally opened and two agents came in. you could tell they weren't just the local police, not just because of the way they dressed but also because of the way they carried themselves, they were confident but not in a cocky way like regular cops were.

"y/n? i'm emily prentiss," she gave you a polite smile as she sat down across from you. "this is derek morgan. we'll be questioning you today." she gestured towards morgan as he stood behind her.

"i'll tell you what i told those cops, i didn't do whatever you're accusing me of doing."

"we're not accusing you of anything, yet." morgan spoke from his position behind prentiss. your eyes flickered from the case file being presented in front of you to him crossing his arms over his chest.

emily spread out a few pictures in front of you, all of them of different men dead and mutilated from the waist down. you turned away from them and leaned back in your chair, feeling as though all the drinks and food you had the night prior were slowing making its way back up.

they started off with simple questions: "do you recognize these men?" "where were you last night?" then they moved to more deeper questions: "who was your last relationship?"

"were you abused as a child?" "what's your relationship like with your father?"

they didnt let up until the door opened again and another agent came in. you sat up straight when your eyes landed on him. he was tall and very handsome, he was just your type. under any other circumstances you would have started to fix your hair up and try to catch his attention.

"it's not her."

"how do you know that, reid?" morgan turned towards him with a confused look on his face. you watched as spencer blushed and glance over at you for a brief moment before turning back to derek.

"a witness came forward, said they saw the unsub and victim at the park when they were doing- uhm- when they were having sex. the unsub didn't have any tattoos." spencer stated, he still refused to look at you.

you thought for a second that he'd found you incredibly hideous but then the his words about the unsub not having tattoos donned on you. without second guessing him, emily walked around the table and uncuffed you. almost immediately you started to rub the skin on your wrist, wincing slightly at the dull pain. you waited until emily and derek walked out of the room to speak up.

"how do you know i have a tattoo?"

spencer finally looked at you, he shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "i saw your photoshoot in a magazine a while back." he mumbled, the blush on his face spreading to his neck.

"¡ assume you'll be in town for a few more days?" you stood up from the chair and made your way to stand in front of him. spencer quickly said yes before catching how eager he sounded and settling with a nod. "maybe we can have dinner and explore some of the other tattoos that didn't make it in the shoot."

"i- i'll have to think about it." there was no thinking honestly, he just didn't want to sound desperate.

"i'm sure you have my number if you wanna take me up on that offer." you gave him a smile and brushed past him.

spencer knew for a fact that he would be taking you up on that offer.

#golden1u5t #myrarants #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #sub spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #soft dom spencer reid #dom spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

584 notes · View notes

princessxt · 7 months ago

Note

hiii, i loved your hotch fic so much, could you maybe write a spencer reid x daughter one where he and the team interview y/n as a potential unsub and then reid finds out she's his daughter that he didn't know about, or any plot you want to write :) i hope you have an amazing day <3

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

You can see the list of who I write about here

like and follow to encourage me to keep posting<33

She Looks Like You

Pairing(s):Spencer Reid x Daugther Reader

Gender:Fluffy

Warning: none?

——————♥︎♥︎——————

Spencer never imagined himself in a family, with a wife, children, a dog and a house with a white picket fence. Contact with girls his age was embarrassing, as he generally couldn't stop talking about subjects that bored the girls. He had only two relationships in his life, and in both of them, the ending was devastating for Spencer. The first was in his last year at college. He met a lovely girl, dated her for a few months, but she disappeared from college. without telling Spencer. For a while he thought the worst could have happened to her, but when he contacted her family, they just told him she was fine and for the boy to leave her alone. And in his second relationship , well, we all know what happened to Mavie.those were the losses of Spencer's life.

He could get over it, after all, he didn't think he would have a family anyway.

He knew that his work took a lot of time, and that could strain a marriage, in addition to how dangerous it would be, considering what happened to Hotch's wife. He may have been shaken by his last relationship, but he didn't let it destroy him. , and now you're here, trying harder than ever to continue saving lives.

The case the team was on was not a case of a serial killer. A couple had been murdered, and the only evidence the local police had was a strand of hair, from the killer, which according to the tests was a woman.

It didn't take long for the team to put together a profile, which led to a young girl.

They didn't have the motivation, but they had in mind that during an interrogation she could say something that would be useful for the case. When the young woman was already in the interrogation room, the agents entered.

"Are you Y/N Y/L/N?" Hotch asks, sitting in front of the young woman, making the young woman look at him with contempt. Spencer was behind Hotch, just watching her, finding her face familiar.

"Unfortunately"She throws her body back and leans against the chair, bored.

"Do you know why you're here?" The older man looks at the files in front of her, waiting for the right moment to show them to the girl.

"It looks like I'm suspected of something." She looks at Hotch, staring at him.

"Do you recognize this couple?" He shows the photos of the crime scene, with the dead couple in one of the photos. Her reaction was not what the agents expected. In the profile, they said that when the killer saw the photos of the crime scene , she wouldn't have a negative reaction, and would just stare at the photos, without a sign of remorse, but Y/n, the moment she saw the photos, turned her face away, feeling her stomach turn and her lunch return to her throat. Place your hand over the photos and close the file.

"Look, am I going to get arrested?" She looks at Hotch, angry that he showed her those horrible photos.

"You can leave at any time. But first, we need a DNA sample." Hotch takes the folders off the table and places them on her lap.

"DNA? Don't you need a warrant for that?" She gets up and grabs the coat that was on the chair.

"Not if you let us collect it willingly and make everything easier." Hotch follows her with his eyes, watching her go to the door.

"Bad luck for you, I'm not the type to make things easy." He opens the door and leaves, without looking back, leaving Hotch and Reid alone in the room.

"Do you think she has something to do with murder?" Spencer finally speaks.

"Her reaction wasn't what we imagined. We need a mandate, we'll only know for sure when the results come out." Hotch gets up from his chair and leaves the room, going to provide the mandate.

A few hours later they were already at the door of Y/n's house, with the warrant in hand, ready to collect the DNA.

They knock on the door and the girl answers, looking disappointed by the agents at her door.

"Let me guess, they came to get my DNA?" The agents agree and she gives them space to enter.

"Mom, those agents are here!" She shouts towards the second floor of the house.

The agents deliver the warrant to the girl. A few minutes later, a woman, approaching 35 years old, appears. Spencer could recognize her from miles away. It was Melissa, her first love. The one who disappeared without telling him anything.

"Do you really think my daughter killed that couple? This has to be a joke." She sits next to her daughter and takes the warrant from her hand, reading it in a few seconds.

"I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid." Hotch follows the manual, and introduces himself to the girl. When she hears Reid's name, her body tenses, and being a profiler, Spencer notices it. .

"A saliva sample and a strand of hair. Get it over with." The girl gets up and comes face to face with Hotch, who takes all the materials needed to do the collection. He takes the saliva sample and the hair, leaving the house then.

They take the sample to the laboratory. The next day, the result went directly to Garcia.

"Guys, I have some bad news, the DNA is not compatible. I'm sorry" Garcia says on the other end of the phone, the team sighs in disappointment, knowing that whoever killed the couple was still out there.

"Wait, here in the files it says that she is compatible with an agent." Garcia says and everyone looks at each other.

"What do you mean compatible with an agent? Is there any document saying she's adopted?" JJ says and gets closer to the phone.

"It doesn't say anything, I'll try to get into the file, just a minute." She stays silent and everyone in the room can hear the keyboard making noise. A minute later, Garcia sees the last thing she could imagine on her screen. one "Oh no" and the whole team is confused.

"Garcia, what did you think?"Emily asks, crossing her arms.

"I'll send it to you" is the only thing she responds. After that, the agents received a file over the phone, and what was written left everyone in shock.

"Spencer, is she... is she your... daughter?" Derek asks, staring blankly at the document. Spencer didn't know what to say or how to react. This had crossed his mind when he found out that Y/n's mother was Melissa, but he believed that if she was pregnant she would have told him.

"Reid, is that possible?" Hotch looks at him, who was motionless.

"I dated her mother during college, maybe it is." He didn't know if he wanted that to be true or a lie. He started thinking about everything, and remembered the date of birth he saw in Y/n's file. a few months after Melissa disappeared. He no longer had any doubts.

"Thanks Garcia, if you find out anything else let us know"JJ hangs up.

"So, she's no longer a suspect." Emily tries to change the atmosphere in the room, drawing everyone's attention to the case.

"Spencer, can I talk to you?" Hotch calls him and they leave the room.

"This is something very important, Spencer. Go figure it out, take the rest of the day off and talk to Melissa and Y/n, you have a lot to discuss" Spencer agrees. He grabs his things and goes to Melissa's house, knocking on the door.

She opens the door and says "I was waiting for you. I knew that after Y/n's exams came out you would come here. You can come in." She gives Spencer space to enter.

"You knew, and you didn't tell me anything."Spencer stops in front of her, in disbelief at everything that was happening.

"Would you like something to drink? Water, juice, beer." She goes to the kitchen followed by Spencer.

"You can sit"She points to some benches on the kitchen counter. She goes to the fridge and takes out 2 beers.

"I don't drink." Spencer says dryly.

"Then some water"She takes a bottle of water.

"Where is Y/n?" he takes a sip of water, calming down.

"He's at a friend's house, he won't be back until night, we have all the time in the world to catch up." She mocks the last part.

"Does she know? That I'm her father?" He says.

"She don't even suspect it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He looks at her, remembering the past, the time when they were together.

"You were about to graduate and join the FBI, I knew that when that happened, she and I would be in the crosshairs of anyone who wanted revenge on you. I did it to protect my daughter."

"I would quit the FBI without thinking twice. I would graduate and look for a good job so I could take care of her. You should have told me, given me the chance to see my daughter grow up" At that moment, Spencer's eyes were about to look fills with tears, thinking about all the memories he missed in his daughter's life.

The silence in the kitchen was embarrassing. Neither of them knew what to say.

"I want to be part of her life from now on." Spencer breaks the silence.

"I don't know if she'll want to. Last night she spent the night talking about how idiots you and your colleague were." She laughs.

"I want to at least try, help me get her to support me." He looks at her, who avoids looking into her eyes.

"I can talk to her tonight, explain everything, and if she wants to see you, I'll call you." She says and finally looks the doctor in the eye.

"What is she like? Is she smart, kind?" He asks wanting to know more about her.

"She looks like you. She's smart, kind to people she likes, but she has my personality." She smiles remembering her daughter.

The rest of the afternoon was peaceful, they talked a little more about her the girl. When Spencer returns to the hotel, he waits for a response from Melissa, to find out whether or not Y/n wants to have contact with him. It doesn't take long until he receives a message from Melissa.

*Tomorrow, at 4 pm at the cafe in the center, she will meet you there*

He smiles reading the message, but feels nervous about having contact with the girl, now that he knows she is his daughter.

The other day, Spencer couldn't stop thinking about her date with Y/n, he thought about bringing something to please her, but he didn't know what she liked.

When it was time, Spencer went to the cafe, sitting at a table and waiting for Y/n. She arrived some time later, going directly to the table. Both, not knowing how to greet each other, just exchanged a "Hi".

"So, did your mother explain everything?" Spencer tries to calm the atmosphere. The girl only responds with a "Yes."

Spencer and Y/n knew that creating a father-daughter relationship would be a challenge, but they both liked being challenged.

——————♥︎♥︎——————

Hii, if you have a better idea for a title, you can tell me in the comments!

#x daughter!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #female reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #criminal minds oneshot #oneshot #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x daughter reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer x daughter!reader

276 notes · View notes

lotte22324 · 5 months ago

Text

A Night Out

Summary: This is inspired by Episode 4x9 "Pick-Up“. You guys know what I'm talking about, the one where they are trying to catch a pick-up artist who murders his victims and where that iconic bar scene happens with Spencer and the bartender, with the magic and all :) You are a part of the BAU and are assigned to the same club as Morgan and Reid, to find out if anyone knows the unsub. But Reid‘s miserable attempts at making conversation make you everything but focused on the task at hand. Leading to a confession and also a lil kiss (yk I am a sucker for a first kiss scenario!).

This is just basically fluffy all through, a bit of hurt/comfort :) This is for all the girlies who have kind of low self-esteem cause lets be honest, we all doubt ourselves once in a while. Also, this is most definitely not how in-ear monitoring works, honest to god, this just worked for the plot. So bare with me for potential technical inaccuracies :) TW.: Y/N is self-deprecating

You had flown into Atlanta two days ago, now you were sitting in the precinct with your team in front of a very poorly looking suspect picture.

„No one's gonna recognize this guy,“ you said helplessly.

„If you know him, then you’ll recognize him“ Rossi reassured you but you were still not very convinced.

„No matter, Morgan, Reid and y/l/n, go to Club 'Aqua‘ as normal agents, ask around, if anyone has seen anything important and warn people!“ said Hotch. "Emily, you already know what you have to do, as Morgen already so graciously pointed out earlier, the Pick-Up Artist is attracted to you“.

You felt a little sting after that comment. Even though you didn’t want to be found attractive by that arrogant narcissist, you still felt bad about not being seen the same way as Emily. Ohhh, this was so stupid, why did you care about that? Well, you were still living in a man‘s world where the opinion of men was apparently worth more than of others. It made you feel shame and guilt to think like that but you couldn’t help yourself, you wanted to get noticed by men as well, mostly just one man…but that didn’t matter right now. You glanced over to the man that had been haunting your nights and caught him staring back at you. He offered you an awkward smile but let his head fall as soon as you returned the smile. So that you both didn't notice the blush creeping up both your cheeks.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Later that evening, you were all at the club, Emily and Jordan looking pretty at their table, while you, Morgan and Reid were questioning and warning visitors. Everyone was wearing a mic and earplugs. You were connected with one another over the in-ear monitoring radio, so you heard what the others were saying as long as you stayed on their frequency. It was kinda distracting but in a dangerous situation, it could save lives.

Having set the in-ear device on Emilys mic, you heard her and Jordan make fun of the pick-up artist you encountered earlier today. The female club-goers (and also a few male attendees) were eyeing him up and down. You were not convinced how the learned “charme skills” would work on anyone. Who would find a man attractive that belittled you so much? The weird trick with the "the camera really adds 10 pounds, doesn't it?“ just seemed douchey and would be an instant turn-off for you. You liked a gentleman, one that didn’t make you feel worth less than him, one with intelligence and maybe a bit of awkwardness. Who doesn’t like an awkward genius, you know?

Switching through the channels on your in-ear monitoring radio (totally not looking for Spencer's voice), you finally heard his rambling. Your favorite awkward genius was in the middle of explaining the situation to a group of women. After describing the man to them and showing a picture, he started rambling on about the dangers of night clubs: "When you think about the nature of serial crimes, it's amazing that there aren’t more predators in Night Clubs! I mean the excessive amounts of alcohol, countless opportunities for date rape drugs, not to mention surprisingly risky behaviour being persued. Alright, so who wants a flyer?“

Subtle, Spencer. Based on his confused look that you caught on his face, after looking for him in the crowd, nobody wanted one. Someone should have really taught him some social skills before letting him out to a club. You stifled a laugh after that interaction you just witnessed and continued on your path, asking around if anyone knew the unsub. After a few fruitless conversations, you found your way to Morgan and Reid to find out if they had gotten anything useful.

"So, how’s it going?“ asked Morgan, looking at you and Reid. But before you could give an answer, Spencer already started talking: "not good, I gave the profile to one woman, she asked if I was the unsub. How are you guys doing?“

Your brain stopped for a second, so did your feet. What did Spencer just say? You busted out laughing after his comment, just to get some weird side glances from other people around you.

"Why are you laughing?“ Spencer asked.

"I don’t know, maybe because your attempts at speaking with pretty women are hilarious?“ you pushed out while holding your belly from laughing too hard. That right there was comedy gold and Spencer didn’t even realize it. Instead, he turned red as a tomato, with a hint of hurt in his eyes and turned away from you, just to meet Morgan's amused look.

"So, how many phone numbers did you get?“ Spencer asked him.

"None, I'm working a case!“ Both you and Spencer raised your eyebrows in knowing suspicion, not believing a single word that left his lips.

"Fine, I’ve got four numbers offered but I didn’t take none!“ Morgan defended himself. You start laughing again. This time Morgan shot you a scolding look and you caught yourself again.

"Alright, lemme school you real quick. What you have to do with these ladies, just take control over the conversation. When you’re talking, what makes you feel like an expert?“

„Uhh, statistics!“

You couldn’t believe his answer. Statistics? For real? Spencer knew so little about striking up a conversation and you were still falling for him, head over heels. Well, he didn’t know that, but still, how did you fall for this man again? At the thought of him talking with an attractive woman in a club about statistics, out of all the topics he could have picked, you lost it again. You started laughing loudly and excused yourself as soon as you saw Morgan's annoyed look. Holding your laugh in, you stepped outside the club as fast as you could. As soon as you were outside, you laughed even more.

"You are aware that we can all hear you, y/n?“ said Emily, suddenly standing next to you outside and you slowly stopped.

You turned off your mic in response and took out your ear piece, not feeling the need to listen to more of Derek's “flirting lessons” for Spencer.

"I‘m sorry, it was just so fucking funny what Reid said“ you smirked, Emily smirking back.

"I know, I could barely keep my laughs to myself“ she confessed.

"He really doesn’t understand how normal conversations work, not to mention flirting“ you replied instantly.

"And he’s still got you wrapped around his finger“ she answered dryly, looking at you with an amused look.

"No, he doesn’t!“

"Suuureee, you do understand that even though I promised not to profile you all, I still subconsciously do. I see you stumbling over your words when he asks specifically you a question, I see your flustered face when he looks up from his desk just to look at you, I see your little reaching for his hand whenever something horrible happens. And that all concludes to just one outcome: you, my love, have a big fat crush on our Doctor.“ Emily deduced with a satisfying look on her face. She deduced it completely correctly, obviously, but you were still trying to deny it all.

"Yeeeahhh, sureee, you got me all figured out, Spencer isn’t even my type, Em!“ you answered a little too quickly, with not enough confidence to fool anyone, especially not a fellow profiler.

Emily's skeptical look, followed by an even more skeptical sound, made you look away from her and fumble with your bag.

Wait. You looked over to Prentiss' ear, her hair tucked behind it. You saw the wire entangled in her hair, she was still wearing her hidden mic and ear device. Oh no, no, no. Everybody who was on her in-ear monitoring radio just heard her little speech about your peculiar behavior around Reid. Hotchner definitely heard it since he was monitoring us. Reid might have heard that you had a crush on him. Not just a little, but a big, fat crush! Emily saw your panicked look and realized her own mistake too late.

"Fuck, I didn’t mean to-" she took her ear piece out.

Hurt and panicky, you cut her off, not allowing her to finish her probably half-assed apology: "you just told Hotchner that I like Spencer; you might have even told him. How am I supposed to look at them ever again?“ you asked frantically, turning red, holding your head in your hands the second that you do so.

"Guys! We might not have gotten any new leads but Spencer got a girls number, he actually flirted with a real woman!“ Morgan bursted out the club's door, smiling brightly and padding Reid proudly on his shoulder. Jordan was following them, clutching her arms, not knowing how cold it would be outside. Spencer walked behind Morgan, looking a little more accomplished than usual. Maybe they didn’t hear Emily's profile? Maybe they were too hyped up about Spencer's flirting abilities.

"Yeah, I,I used magic! And she actually liked it.“ Spencer added coyly, a blush emblazoned on his cheeks. You felt a sting in your heart. Of course, she liked the magic, Spencer was extremely charming when he was talking about the things he liked or did the things he was good at. He had shown you multiple magic tricks already which always made your heart flutter. But now, thinking of magic, your stomach turned. You weren’t the only one being charmed by magic Spencer. Of course you weren’t. You flashed him a smile but couldn't mask the hurt that was shining through your eyes.Him being so excited about another person made you sad. You felt Emily's sorry-look on you and shivered due to the low temperature. Nonetheless, you could not drive in a car with Spencer now. To be honest, you wanted to be as far away as possible from him.

"Uhm, I think, i‘m gonna walk to the hotel, I need to clear my head a little“ you said hastily, starting to walk in the right direction. Everyone looked confused but no one dared to question your choice. It was gonna be a nice 30 minute walk where you could get yourself together before having to face the others again. You might catch a cold but it was worth it.

"I’ll come with! You shouldn’t be walking the streets alone at night and I also, uhm, still need to get my steps in!“ Spencer hustled over to your side and started to walk with you. Great, amazing, this was exactly what you needed. You slumped your shoulders and pulled your lips into a thin line.

"Fine“ you answered, quickening your pace, not caring if Reid could keep up. He was the one that you wanted to get away from and now he was walking right beside you. For the next 30 minutes. You could curl up and die at the thought of that.

After walking a few minutes in silence, you started to slow down, admitting defeat that you wouldn’t get rid of him. His breathing slowed down, looking grateful, he never was the sportiest out of all of you.

"Sooo, what’s her name?“ you asked, uninterested.

"Whose name?“ Spencer seemed confused.

"The girl whose number you got?“

"Well, technically, I don’t have her number but she has mine and I told her that she could call me…. I don’t know her name either.“ Spencer answered honestly.

"It doesn’t matter, I am not interested in her anyways, I just wanted to know if Morgan‘s theory of controlling the conversation would be true. And, I guess, he was right. I was in my comfort zone, doing something I liked and she instantly felt attracted to that confidence“ he confessed.

You didn’t answer him, what should you say to that? Yeaaahhh, I like your confidence too! Whenever you do magic, I also find that super attractive. Oh and by the way, do you wanna go out with me instead of her? And also, when she calls, do you wanna casually give me the phone to tell her that he’s in a happy relationship and that she should back the fuck off? No. You would never say that and also, the other woman has done nothing wrong. Why are you so angry with her? He flirted with her, she simply flirted back, as one does. Being mad at her is senseless, it's better to be mad at Spencer and yourself. I mean, who were you kidding? Spencer Reid would never fall for you, you are so deep in the friendzone, he probably does not even see you as a real woman.

"Did you get any numbers offered to you in the club?“ Spencer asked, pulling you out of your self-pitying thoughts.

"No, I don’t usually get numbers just handed out to me“ you answered sarcastically but truthfully.

"Why not?“ Spencer furrowed his eyebrows.

"Cause, I don’t usually get hit on, you know. People need to get to know me before asking me out, my looks alone simply don’t cut it.“ you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. You turned around the next street corner, blinded by the suddenly very bright street lamps but kept on walking. Spencer grabbed your wrist and made you stop in an instant.

You turned your head irritated: "What is it?“

"That can’t be true.“

"What can’t be true?“ you asked, still irritated by his grip around your arm but not taking any action against it.

"That people don’t ask you out all the time just when they see you. You’re, You’re beautiful.“

Your face turned a crimson red color and you looked down onto the pavement.

"Well thank you, Doctor Reid, but you might be the only one who thinks so…“ you said out loud, without thinking about it first. You shook off his hand and kept on walking, wanting to leave this conversation behind you.

"Come on, we do wanna get back at some point, ay?“ you asked him, a smile playing on your lips. Spencer's shocked look turns into a smile as soon as he sees yours.

"Okay, but just for the record, I am very sure that everyone thinks that you are beautiful, inside and out!“ Spencer reassured his view but you didn't believe him, as always when someone complimented you.

Walking side by side, you finally decided to change the topic and asked about the last book he read. Instantly, his eyes shined bright and he started rambling on about this book that you’ve never heard about. Although his mouth and his right hand were moving enthusiastically, his hand closest to you stayed on his side. In the next ten minutes, he inched closer and closer to you., at least it seemed like it. With every millimeter that he won, you didn't back away. You wanted him to get closer, god, if you had the choice, he would be as close as humanly possible at all times to you. You let your hands fall out of your coat pockets, dangerously close to his. They graze lightly. He kept on talking about the main character and his complicated love interest. Your hands graze again. You tried to keep calm, listen to his explanation of the story. They touch again, this time longer. You instinctively held out your pinky, your body yearning for his touch. It touched the back of his hand, slowly making its way down. Spencer mirrored your movement, your pinkies finally interlocking. You held your breath, fearing that any change would destroy this fragile image. Both of you kept on walking, he kept on talking.

"Y/n? Are you even listening?“ Spencer asked hesitantly, his voice a little shakier than usual.

"Yeah, sure I am! You were talking about Flavio and his little girlfriend, uhm, Adriana?“ you answered him, completely aware that you were, in fact, not listening to him.

"Arianne. It almost seems like you just wanted to get me talking, so you wouldn’t have to,“ his jawline tensed up but he didn't let go of your pinky.

"I-I, that might have been my plan.“ you defeatedly answered him. But before he could answer you back, you were standing in front of the hotel.

"There you guys are, finally, I was already afraid that you got lost!“ Morgan said, pushing himself off of the car he was leaning on. You let go in an instant of Spencer's pinky and took a step to the side, not realizing how close you were standing.

"Yeah no, our doctor over here is just not the fastest, even though he has such long legs!“ you laughed, Morgan flashing you a signature smile.

"Come on, let's get some sleep, tomorrow will probably be a long day again.“ Morgan yawned and started walking towards the entrance of the hotel. Both, you and Reid, followed him and started to walk up to your rooms. Stepping into the elevator, Morgan had to get to the third floor, you and Reid to the fifth. As soon as the elevator dinged on the third, Morgan waved tiredly and wished you both a good night. The ride up was quiet but the tension between you two seemed to thicken. You stepped out of the elevator awkwardly, Spencer following you sheepishly.

"I have to go to the right,“ he said, looking down onto his hands.

"Oh, I have to go left“ you answered, the disappointment in your voice clear, you never were the best at keeping your emotions hidden.

Spencer looked up at you, opening and closing his mouth, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. You gave him a smile: "alright, good night then.“

You turned around and started walking towards your room when a sentence dropped from Spencer's lips that made you stop in your tracks.

"Was Emily right?“

You turned around to find him walking towards you, in the opposite direction of his room. You gulped. Your eyes shifted panicky, trying to find the right answer to that question. You could simply lie, say that she was wrong, profilers do get things wrong sometimes.

But you felt yourself opening your mouth: "yes, Spencer, she was right.“ you looked down onto the floor, your stomach full with knots.

"But that doesn’t have to change anything between us, you know, I know you don’t like me like that and I will get over this, easily!“ you blabbered. Yeeeeahhhh, sureee, that is gonna be super easy. You don’t believe your own words, knowing the feelings that you have for this man. It’s like nothing you ever felt before, it feels like whenever he looks at you, the world stops for a second. But he doesn’t need to know that, as far as he is concerned, it's just a little work crush.

"What if I don’t want you to get over it?“

The world actually stopped or at least it felt like it again. You drew your eyes up and met his gaze. He looked completely serious, he was not fucking with you right now?

"What do you mean, Spencer?“ you asked hesitantly.

"Well, y/n, as Emily put it so nicely: I have a big, fat crush on you too.“ Spencer timidly smiled at you, ears turning red, stepping closer.

"Or why would you think that I was trying to hold your hand the whole damn way here?“ he confessed, holding his hand out to yours. You followed his movement and took his hand, this time with more clear intention, and interlocked your fingers together. You couldn't fight the smile creeping up your face, neither could he. His other hand moved up and hesitantly touched your cheek. Your eyes shifted up and down, from his brown eyes to his pink lips. He fully stared at your mouth, not concealing his clear want at all, making you chuckle slightly.

"What’s so funny?“ he asked, his voice quiet and distracted.

"You can’t stop staring, can you?“ you blushed, surprised by the boldness of your claim.

"Nope.“

And that’s all it took for you to lean over and place your lips on his. For Spencer, it felt like the world was stopping. It was a shy kiss but you both slowly found a rhythm. Your hands found their way to his neck, his hands fell down and started pulling you closer by your hips. After a few moments, you had to stop, trying to catch your breath. The stupid smiles that painted both of your faces made both of you laugh.

"You know, y/n, I can never stop staring. Whenever I ask you a question, whenever you look up from your desk and especially whenever you hold my hand.“ Spencer confessed, his smile and his words making you blush, for the 100th time tonight. Instead of answering, you simply pulled him into a tight embrace that he happily reciprocated. You sighed heavily, the tension of today falling off, feeling safe in his arms.

#criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #hurt/comfort #fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

216 notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months ago

Text

... A Thousand Words: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Summary: A man commits suicide and leaves behind tattoos that tell a story about the victims he's killed, and the one that's still alive.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

"How's Reid doing?" Derek asks.

"It doesn't even seem to faze him. He's just sitting there in the corner turning pages. Have I told you how in love I am with him?"

"You don't have to say it," Emily chuckles.

"I told Pen to send you a list of tattoo parlors in Tallahassee that might recognize this work," you say to Rossi.

His phone pings and he looks at it. "Just got them." He looks at Emily. "Want to check these out with me?"

"Sounds fun," she nods.

Both of them take a company car and leave. Hotch returns to the group.

"I got a few more hours out of the media," Jj says.

"We'll take what we can get."

"Prentiss and Rossi are going to check out some tattoo parlors." John is off to the side shaking his head and sighing. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah."

"Did you ask him about calling her Becky?" you chuckle.

"He'll be alright."

"I hope so because we still have no indication that this girl's even alive."

The coroner's office comes and takes the body away in a body bag since they need to process it. You watch them take it away with Derek and John.

"Are you sure it's okay to move the body?" John asks.

"There's no reason not to anymore. We've seen this guy's show."

"Have you seen anything like this before?"

"Like what?"

"Everything. The suicide, the clippings, and the journals?"

"I think it's pretty safe to say that no one's ever seen anything like this," Derek answers.

One of the tattoo artists, once he saw the pictures of the art, compared it to 'The Illustrated Man', the book Spencer mentioned earlier. The man didn't recognize the artist who did the work but knew the art had been free-handed. Free-hand portraits are gnarly to do on skin and don't always come out the way they want it to, but this artist did a damn good job at it. All the portraits look the same in the sense that the same artist did all of them, but they weren't done at the same time because some of them were faded and others looked newer.

The tattoo artist took one look at the rose on the dead man's arm and knew immediately that it didn't fit. There had been something underneath it and the rose was just a cover-up. He could tell that a cross had been underneath it because whoever did the rose didn't do it very well. Only pieces done that shitty must have been done in prison meaning the unsub did time. It would explain why a fifty-year-old didn't start killing until he was forty, and why rapists become killers after they've been in prison. They learn not to leave a witness.

The blank spot on the dead man's back not only represents 'The Illustrated Man' but it makes him exactly like him... the movie version of him. In the movie, there is an open spot on the man's back so people can see the future.

"Rossi and Prentiss think he may have done time, and that one of the tattoos may have been done in prison," Hotch says.

"I wouldn't doubt that," you scoff.

"I've got Garcia running everything through the biometrics database." Hotch sees the confusion on John's face and explains. "It catalogs all the prison inmates and their tattoos. They have detailed photos of everyone on every inmate."

"No, no, no, no," Spencer mutters and jumps up from his spot. "Guys? That blank spot isn't the only one he has."

"What do you mean?"

"He talks about the blank space where we assumed Rebecca's portrait would go. He talks about how once he fills that spot, the artwork will be complete. It's not the only blank space, is it? He has the one on his back in the middle of the tree branches. Why would he talk about completing the artwork when he hasn't? I need to see the body again."

"I'll go with you," you say.

"I'll call the ME and let him know you're on your way," Hotch says.

While you're on your way to the ME's office, you learn that Penelope has been a busy bee. She ran the covered tattoo through the biometrics database where it analyzed color, design, and texture. There's a ninety-five percent chance that it's from one of the four major institutions in the Northeastern prison system. The string of missing women began in 2000, so she went back from that year and found fifty-three similar tattoos on forearms like what your dead guy has. Of those fifty-three, ten were released prior to 2000. Of the ten, four are convicted rapists. Of the four, none of them trace back to Tallahassee. When given the name Bob, Penelope found a man named Robert Matthew Burke who was convicted in 1991 for eight years of rape and was then released in October 1999. The women went missing at the start of 2000.

John immediately recognized the name as soon as he heard it. Robert was a registered sex offender who was an ex-con out of Virginia. He got a traffic ticket near FSU the night Rebecca disappeared. John went to his apartment to question him about Rebecca but he could never find him. John finally got a hold of him on the phone and asked if he could come down and do a DNA swab and an interview on Monday.

That's what changed. He knew it was a matter of time before John caught up to him. He wasn't about to go back to prison so he killed himself.

You and Spencer arrive at the ME's office and are taken to the main room where Robert's body is. You and Spencer both put on gloves so that you can touch the body without ruining anything for the police. Spencer runs his fingers across his back with a frown.

"If these tattoos are a fetish, what enjoyment does he get out of the ones on his back? He can't even see them," you say.

"There's something here. I can feel the raised ink." You touch where Spencer is touching and feel the skin raised as if there is ink there but you can't see it. "Do you have a black light scanner?"

"Sure."

"I've read about this. Tattoos are put on with invisible ink so that no one can see them." He grabs the scanner from the ME and runs it across the back slowly. Invisible ink now shows itself. There are lines intertwining through the portraits and the tree branches. Once the ME turns off the lights, you can see them much better. "Oh, man. Look, there's one over here, too."

"They lead to the blank spot. Look over there," you say.

"What is that?" Spencer asks.

"It's an embryo in a womb. The partner is a woman and she's having a baby. I'm assuming his baby." Spencer continues to look at the invisible ink while you call Hotch. "Hey, Robert has invisible ink on him. Turns out the blank spot on his back isn't blank. It's an embryo. He's having a baby with his partner, a woman."

"Do we know if she has the baby yet?"

"The tattoos have dates, the embryo doesn't."

"Dating is prominent in the tattoos and the journals, and they're calendrical in their abductions. It's hard to believe their baby's birthdate wouldn't be exceedingly important to them," Spencer says while you hold out the phone to him.

"She's probably still pregnant," Hotch says when you place the phone to your ear. "We found out where he lives but it's not a place where he'd keep women for a whole year. This partner must have a house. Get back here. We need to update the profile and narrow the search."

You and Spencer finish what you're doing and head back to the cabin.

"The partner being pregnant can help us. We should have Garcia try and find her through doctor visits or medical records," Derek suggests.

"I don't think there would be," you say. "He basically lived off the grid which means she did, too. Judging by the photographs of what they did to the victims, it's safe to say they live in isolation."

"We've seen his hatred for women, and yet he teams up with her. What kind of woman could change him?" Hotch asks.

"Maybe they met in prison?"

"No, Garcia already went through all of that. He had no female visitors," Emily says.

"What about prison staff, doctors, and religious volunteers?"

"No. We went through a long list of all the vendors who were there during his incarceration. None of them resurfaced in Tallahassee."

"What kind of a woman would go to prison to fall in love with a rapist?" John asks.

"Someone vulnerable, emotionally fragile, and drawn to violent men. Someone in her life made her that way. It's a classic abuse cycle. What if that's who she was there to visit?" you ask.

"It's worth a try." Emily takes out her phone and calls Penelope, placing her on speakerphone. "Hey, you know the visitor logs from the prison we looked at?"

"Yeah, I still have them right here."

"I need you to check the dates for me. Were there any women who visited another inmate while Burke was there but then suddenly stopped visiting when Burke was released?"

"Give me one second while I look." She pauses. "Juliet Monroe went to visit her father in prison once or twice a year from '92 to '95."

"What was he in for?"

"Rape and she was his primary victim."

"He raped her and she still went to visit him every year?" John asks.

You think back to your rapist and how if he was in jail, you'd be perfectly fine to let him rot. You can't imagine wanting to visit your rapist in jail, family or not.

"She's repeating the cycle she grew up with," Rossi says.

"Yeah, she went from visiting him once or twice a year to once a month from '95 to '97. That's when Burke was serving his time for rape. Then she increased her visits to once a week all through '98 and '99 until they stopped completely in October of that year. That's when he was released. She owns a house in Northern Florida."

"Garica, get us that address."

As soon as it was sent over, your entire team headed over there with John and his team. You don't have to step foot inside to know there is a child inside the house and a dead woman.

"There is a dead woman inside the house," you say. "I can feel it. There's also a child. I'm thinking Juliet had her baby."

Where there is a door, officers and agents enter through them. The sound of a baby crying reaches your ears the second you step foot into the house.

"In here!" Someone is in the far back room but you have to clear the other rooms before you can get there. "Please, help me! In here!"

You make it to the back room and see Rebecca chained to the ground by her neck with a baby in her hand. On the mattress in the corner is Juliet limp and cold. She is dead. She must have died giving birth. Rebecca is a crying mess and stuttering so badly that she can't get a single word out.

"Give me the baby," you say and put your gun away. "It's okay, give me the baby." You take the baby from her arms so she can get help. John moves in as soon as she is cleared. "Hi, sweetheart. You're going to be okay."

"Becky, are you okay?" John asks.

"I just want to go home. I just want to go home," she cries.

"Yeah, you're going home, honey. You're going home. It's okay."

Paramedics come and look over Rebecca and the baby. The unsubs are dead but Rebecca is saved as well as the baby. His parents are monsters but that doesn't mean he has to be. You hope he goes to a good home with loving parents. While on the plane ride home, Emily and Spencer are playing a game of poker to pass the time. You and Emily are on one side of the table and Spencer sits across from you.

"Three cards, please," Emily asks.

"Three cards for the lady." Spencer passes them out to her. "I'm going to take one card."

You look at her hand to see her have three Jacks and three threes. That's a tough hand to beat. You look at Spencer with a poker face. You'd never give her hand away.

"One card? A straight or a flush, Dr. Reid. What are you trying to fill in?"

"Well, considering the odds of filling in an open-ended straight with one card are five-to-one against, while a one-card flush draw is more like four-point-five-to-one. I guess you'd say if I was smart, I'm drawing to a flush. Hmm. I think I'm gonna go all in on this."

Spencer slides all of his pretzels into the middle of the pile. Instead of money, they're trading snacks. Emily nods and slides all of her peanuts into the pile. Both of them are all in. Derek comes over with one earbud in his ear, interested in how the game is going to end.

"So, are you?" Emily asks.

"Am I drawing to a flush, or am I smart?"

"Either," she shrugs.

"Well, I'm... I'm a genius, but actually, I was drawing a full house." He lays his cards down. "Eights over sixes."

"I always forget you're from Vegas," she sighs.

"Yup."

He reaches for the pile and starts to pull it toward him but she stops him.

"Ooh, I'm sorry, not so fast. I, too, have a boat." She lays her cards down. "Jacks over threes."

The look on Spencer's face almost has you laughing.

"You drew three cards to a full house? That's like a hundred-to-one against."

"Ninety-seven-to-one. Looks like you're out."

She pulls the snacks in toward her. Spencer grabs the cards with a frown and tries to figure out how the hell he lost.

"Hey, Prentiss. Sin to win?"

You and Prentiss look at each other with a smirk. You shift in your seat and look at Derek who looks desperate for an answer.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Come on, now, I gotta know. What the hell is a sin-to-win weekend in Atlantic City?"

"Derek," she sighs, "I have a tremendous amount of respect for you, but there are some questions that if you have to ask them, it means you probably couldn't handle the answer."

She gets up and leaves the table with a smirk.

"There is a whole other side to that woman," Derek chuckles and sits back down to do his own thing.

"I never lose," Spencer frowns.

"You've lost against me," you chuckle and move to sit directly in front of him.

He keeps looking at the cards without looking at you.

"You use your body to distract me. That's cheating."

You giggle. "Then let's go for another round right here right now. I can't exactly 'use my body to cheat' now can I?"

"Fine." Spencer pauses. "No feet stuff."

"I can win without even touching you."

There is a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He loves a challenge.

"Wanna bet?"

"What do I get if I win?" you grin.

"I'll read that book you want me to read about that stalker who chases you through the woods."

Your eyes light up. You've been wanting him to read your dirty books in hopes he might recreate some of the scenes.

"What if you win?" you ask.

"You have to come with me to see that Russian film I've been wanting you to see."

"Deal," you smirk.

Spencer shuffles the cards and passes them out to you and him. Let the games begin.

"I have seen children successfully surmount the effects of an evil inheritance. That is due to purity being an inherent attribute of the soul." - Mohandas Gandhi

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

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal mindsfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

32 notes · View notes

marksbear · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing well, and I was wondering two things: if I could be 🏴‍☠️ anon and if you would be willing to make a part 3 for Spencer Reid x unsub reader? Sorry for bothering you if not, and I hope you have a good day/night!

Hey! I hope you're doing well as well! And yes you can be 🏴‍☠ and yes I would be glad to make a part 3. And the link for the babes who didn't read the other parts.

I can't stress enough that you go read the 1st part. But don't mind my old shitty writing.

Warnings! Gaslighting, manipulation, two face reader, unsub reader, gore, killing, cutting open, human organs/guts and fish guts, toxic reader, ooc Spencer.

SPENCER REID X UNSUB MALE READER

Spencer watched Y/n from afar watching him as he worked on the beautiful sea creature. The star fish to be exact. Spencer wondered how Y/n could be the K/n. He was so gentle and kind to others.

But sadly Y/n already confessed to him and everything, but Spencer couldn't see it. He couldn't see Y/n killing fish and putting their cuts inside human beings.

He couldn't see Y/n doing the horrible killings.

As Spencer was in deep thought Y/n looks up from the star fish that was currently sticking onto his hand.

"Why..." Spencer says before realization hits him and before he could take back what he said Y/n beats him to it.

"Why what?" Y/n questions with a eyebrow raised before gently taking the star fish off his hand and back into the tank.

"It's nothing." Spencer says desperately trying to change the subject. "No... Why what Spencie?" Y/n says moving away from the tank inching closer to Spencer.

"N-no uhm. It's an uncomfortable question." Spencer says trying to push past the conversation.

"No. Thats such nonsense. Ask away." Y/n says giving a trusting smile. Spencer would had folded and melt for the kiss if he didn't knew what was behind that mask.

"Why...Why do you kill people in horrible ways? You brutally murder them first then after that you cut open their stomach before taking out almost every single organ inside and replace it with fish guts. A-and sometimes for fun you'll mail the fish heads and human heads to random places---" Spencer rant gets cut off by a fast hand with Y/n curving his mouth tightly.

"That's enough. I don't want my pretty boy to think of my victims. It makes me jealous..." Y/n says with a light tease. Spencer pushes Y/n hand away.

"Stop trying to flirt your way out of this." Spencer says.

"Fine... To answer your question it's because I love the fame. Everybody across America knows who I am. And I take out human guts and replace them with fish guts because it's a statement." Y/n answers with a sick smile growing on his face.

"What Statement are you trying to make exactly?" Spencer questions.

"That even with a whole different organ system. People are still assholes on the inside." Y/n answers. Spencer couldn't tell if Y/n was joking or either dead serious.

"So you don't have a deeper meaning as to why your K/n."

"Like I told you. I love the fame. You yell out K/n and everybody knows who exactly that is. Unlike my regular Marine biologist job. I find a new breed of fish no one gives a shit and that somebody else can just take my credit. With this nobody can be me. No one can just brush me off." Y/n says with his smirk becoming more and more twisted.

"So I just lied and risked my whole career over your little obsession for fame!" Spencer blurts out after everything starts to play in his mind.

"No baby... You risked it all for me. You know that somebody could never love you like how I do. You can't find somebody like me. You know how much I love and care for you, so please don't leave me." Y/n says as he moves his hands to both side of Spencer cheeks.

This time Spencer was aware that Y/n was just trying to manipulate him. But still Spencer couldn't shake off the words.

Spencer recognized the sweet lies Y/n was telling him. But he couldn't help but to feel bad and that he was in the wrong for bringing this up.

"P-please... Don't rat me out. Don't leave me. I promise i'll change. I swear." Y/n begs with sorrow with his eyes beginning to water.

As more and more words Y/n spoke the more the genius believed. For a genius Y/n was surprised he would fall for his words. But a bit more gas lighting and manipulation Spencer was all Y/n's.

"Spencie you know if they find out who I am they're gonna give me death. You're the only one who knows the real me. So if you go and tell you be the one who actually murdered me." Y/n coo's as he pulls Spencer close so their heads are resting against each other.

"And that means you will remember me and what you did for the rest of your life. But I don't want my doctor to be traumatized so let's try to avoid that outcome."

In a flick of a switch Y/n was the one acting like hes the victim.

With a few more words that was lased with lies Y/n pulls Spencer completely in kissing Spencer.

As Spencer melts into the kiss all of his previous thoughts were out the window.

Y/n wraps his arms around Spencer's waist pulling him closer. Spencer wraps his arms around Y/n's shoulders kissing him back.

Y/n pulls away slowly with his head resting against Spencer's own forehead.

"Tell me that you won't leave me. Tell me that you love me Spencer."

"I won't leave you I swear! I love you and only you!."

"I know."

THE END

#spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #x unsub reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

300 notes · View notes

jqmalikhsgib · 9 months ago

Text

stars

six

aaron holds his wife close to him. she’s only just got home and he missed the smell of her lilac shampoo. yn meant everything to him! losing haley sent him in a dark path for a long time. in the divorce and when she was killed. it broke him over and over again.

aaron never thought he’d have the willpower to move on from his first love. he thought she’d be his one and only. he accepted that, for awhile.

but in comes this most amazing, breathtaking, beautiful, smart, kind woman who instantly stole his heart!

yn and aaron met during one of his cases. it had been in new york city and it turned out fashion week just so happened to happen during the time they flew in new york for a case. it was a happy accident.

aaron liked to call it faith. normally he’d be the first one out of the hotel, heading straight to whatever precinct the team had to be for the case. he’d deal with the crappy coffee they had and get on with figuring out who the unsub could be.

that day was no different. this time though, he wanted to treat himself to better coffee. plus, he had been craving a dunkins donut for awhile.

when aaron arrived to dunkin donuts he sighs at the long line in the drive through. aaron decided to just go inside.

walking in he sighs as he stands in line. aaron soon hears commotion outside and sees that some people stopped a woman and asked for photos and autographs.

aaron ignores the commotion. he orders his drink and a few donuts, before he heads out. he gets a small glimpse of the woman before getting back in his car.

aaron didn’t really think too much of it. that is until he sees her again later that night. the team had solved the case, arresting the unsub and finding the woman he kidnapped, bringing her home safely. the team wanted to celebrate.

normally aaron would decline the offer to come along, wanting to get a good night sleep before jetting off the next morning. this time he accepted. he didn’t know why, but his inner voice told him he deserved to go out and have fun.

they went to a small club derek had found. he watched as his team danced, laughing at derek’s smooth moves.

aaron takes a sip of his beer before excusing himself to the restroom. once he finished his business he heads to the bar. aaron sees a woman looking very uncomfortable while a guy tries to flirt with her. she tries to be polite, giving him a smile. aaron could tell he wasn’t really getting the hint. she politely declines his advances. the man grabs her arm a little to aggressive for his liking. aaron frowns before walking over to them.

“everything okay?”

“yeah, it is! back up buddy!”

aaron puts his hands in the small of her back. the woman looks at him with pleading eyes. aaron recognizes her from earlier that day.

“i wasn’t asking you.”

“listen, i was having a discussion with the pretty lady here! why don’t you leave!”

aaron grabs his badge. the guy raised his hands before leaving.

“thank you!”

aaron hums. “yeah, any time.”

the woman smiles at him. “that a real badge or are you an actor?”

aaron gives her one of his signature small smiles. “it’s real. fbi.”

“oh? how long have you been an agent?”

aaron scoffs. “i don’t even remember. it’s been so long.”

“you look oddly familiar. have we met?”

“saw you at dunkins. you were signing autographs. im assuming you’re a celebrity?”

she laughs. “you don’t recognize me?”

aaron shakes his head. “mostly listen to the classics. i am quite old.” aaron states.

“you don’t look that old mister fbi agent! but, yeah, i am! im barely famous though. have like three albums out right now. it’s one reason why i can walk freely in the streets of new york without being spotted too much.”

“you can call me aaron.”

“aaron, huh? very suiting for an fbi agent. i like that. my names yn. i go by my middle name though in the industry, rihanna.”

aaron smiles. “what brings you here in new york?”

“i was invited to a few fashion shows. since im up and coming people want me everywhere. it’s been a busy week for me.” yn states.

“i understand. traveling a lot, yeah?”

“mhm. you travel?”

aaron nods. “yeah, all the time. im a profiler! my job consist being in different locations all the time.”

“profiler? you’re in the big leagues then, huh? i heard you gotta be crazy smart to be considered.”

aaron laughs. “something like that. it’s mostly got to do with reading people, places, and things, you know? just looking a little deeper than others would. like studying it more.”

“okay mister profiler, let’s see how good you are at your job. profile me.” yn smirks.

aaron smirks.

“just by standing next to you i can tell you’re an amazing artist. you write music from the heart and release it for the world to know who you are and what you’ve been through. you underestimate yourself. you don’t think you’re good enough which is why you call yourself low leveled, yet you’re already being invited to big events, which means you’re getting way more attention than you’ve ever imagined.”

yn left speechless. she didn’t know what else to do or say. yn just stood there before blinking rapidly. “wow, you’re good!”

“it’s just from the few things you’ve told me. nothing major.”

“who’s underestimating themselves now?” she smirks.

aaron chuckles.

the two continues to chat for a while. they lost track of time. soon enough emily comes to find aaron, letting him know she’s taking derek and spencer back to the hotel. both of them drunk off their ass.

aaron lets her know he’ll be right behind them.

“it was great talking to you, yn.” aaron smiles as he goes to walk away. “aaron, wait!”

aaron turns around. yn hands him a piece of paper. “please, call me. i enjoyed talking to you.”

aaron smiles. he places the paper in his pocket before waving. the rest was history.

he was smitten that very day and continued to be smitten about her. he felt like haley brought them together.

they were perfect. his perfect little star.

#aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #stars jqhotchner #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader

47 notes · View notes

deceasedream69 · 2 years ago

Text

Bomb

This imagine takes place in 7x3

sumary: you're working on what appears to be a really mysterious case with your coworkers, until thing get complicated.

W: mentions of bombs and mental illness

_______________________________________________________-

-"What I'm saying is that it's possible that our unsub has what it's called "Capgras syndrome", Reid started to explain as we were investigating the unsub's childhood home.

-"What's that?", JJ walked towards Spence, Morgan and me next to him already.

-"It's basically an ilusion made by your eyes. You think everyone you know or love is not actually who you see. You get this "imposter" syndrome, where the rest of your senses are able to recognize your friends or family but your eyes trick you into thinking right the opposite. Now mix thinking everyone you love around you is an imposter with military training and you get... well, our unsub"

-"If this is true how should we proceed?", Morgan asked.

-"Is there a cure?", I looked at Spencer, maybe there was a way to save him after all.

-"there are treatments but not really a cure"

-"but what caused our unsub to get the syndrome"

-"it's cause by mayor brain damage like a tumor or...

"the car accident he had on friday", Spencer and I said it at the same time.

-"that'll explain why he's so calmed and focused, he's normal until he sees an "imposter", Morgan explained and Spencer nodded.

-"And he's looking for the last hope he has, his wife and daughter"

We went back to the BAU, informed by Rossi that our unsub kidnapped someone else we were thinking about options to get close to him.

-"I can't believe you can have someone you love so much in front of you and just...", I made a mimick of my head exploding. "it must be tiring and... so sad, you never really get to spend time with someone that you know"

I closed my eyes.

-"what are you doing?"

-"well I can recognize your voice..." I lifted my hands and started to softly touch his face. "You said you could recognize someone with the rest of your senses, like the touch", I smiled. "I can tell you're Spence"

-"you could just hear my voice, no need to get all touchy"

-"well your voice doesn't really allow me to see or... at least feel, your pretty face"

-"all set, let's call our unsub", Rossi intervened, but I could still see Spencer's red cheeks.

After the phone call we were all on edge, apparently they managed to find the victim our unsub was holding hostage but our unsub wasn't there, just a radio he used to trick is into thinking he was still there. But our worried grew even bigger when Penelope appeared.

- "a dead police officer inside Quantico was found"

- "inside?", Maybe I didn't listen properly, I hoped that was it but Penelope only nodded.

We were screwed.

The whole team entered in kinda panic mode, although no one would admit it. We had to get the unsub's wife and daughter Ina safe place inside the building. Rossi, JJ and Spencer were still in the desk area but Hotch sent me to grab some things from his office.

Rossi pressed the call option again, hoping to hear the unsub's phone ringing to at least have an idea about his location.

- "Luke?", Rossi asked.

- "now I want you to listen to me very carefully, we both know we don't want to make such a mess"

- "what do you mean by that?"

He pushed me out of the office, his hand grabbing my neck to guide me, and the bomb strapped to my shoulders falling onto my chest. I lifted my hands to show our team I wasn't armed, he hid himself behind me, holding a little remote on the other hand.

Morgan and JJ instantly got their guns out.

- "no!" Reid yelled at them, Rossi analyzing the whole situation, I decided to just stay silent, looking at the floor.

- "Now, no more tricks, or your agent here, along with us, is gone. Where is my wife and daughter?"

- "Luke?", A woman's voice sounded through a microphone.

- "sweetie? Is that you? Are you ok?"

- "yes, we're fine and safe, would you please let this innocent people go?"

- "go? After what they're doing to you?"

- "daddy, please, I want to go home", a little girls voice sounded this time, she sounded scared, and so was I. Lifting my gaze slightly to at least look at my team one last time, he tighten his grip on my neck, making me look back down.

- "please let them go, honey"

- "we can reunite you again with your wife and daughter", Spencer intervened. The team looking at him. "But you have to keep your eyes closed"

- "what?" He said grabbing my neck tighter.

- "ok... You- you have this syndrome, called the capgras syndrome, your eyes, basically, are playing tricks on you, making you feel like everyone around you is an imposter, but you just have to close your eyes"

- "please, darling, close your eyes and I'll come out"

- "please, daddy, close your eyes"

I couldn't hold the pain in my neck anymore, biting my lip to suppress any kind of whine or sound that could escape.

- "but you need to let our agent go", Rossi tried to get closer to us, but he pulled be back. After a few seconds, hesitating, he let me go. A couple of professional guys wearing suits grabbed me and took the bomb off me. I felt so relieved.

The unsub closed his eyes and was handcuffed, the wife entered the room, warning him to not open his eyes.

I fell to the nearest chair, my breathing uneven and my shoulder hurting as fuck.

- "hey, are you okay?", He kneeled before me.

I shook my head and let the tears flow as I rested my head on his shoulder, his hand stroking my back slowly.

I could hear the commotion at the background but I decided not to pay attention to it, I'll catch on it later.

Spencer and I stood there for a moment. Morgan tried to approach to ask me how I was feeling but Spencer shook his head so he decided to give us space.

- "how are you feeling?", He said stroking my head now.

I sniffed.

- "I was... Scared"

- "honestly", he voice was really soft, like he was whispering, "I was scared to, scared to not see your pretty face anymore either, not even being able to feel it", he said running a few fingers over my cheek. I smiled and closed my eyes , trying to steady my breathing.

- "it's all over, let's go home and get you some sleep", he said helping me up.

The end :)

369 notes · View notes

cloudlessly-light · 8 months ago

Text

The darkest parts of me (5/5)

A/N: Thanks to everyone who’s encouraged and read this little story of mine! I’ll be back to posting pure filth soon!

Title: The darkest parts of me (5/5) Summary: They find each other in a dark world where they do twisted things. The only way things could have become more dangerous, is if they were together. Funny how life turns out.

Unsub!Hotchniss AU. Word count: 2,2k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for most or all chapters): smut, descriptions of violence, descriptions of murder, gore (nothing too explicit), mentions of weapons

David Rossi stands in a parking lot looking at the ground where only hours before a man’s body had been lying. A body that knew was a from the murders he’s spent the better part of a year hunting. They had gotten the call early, a quick description of the scene, but witnesses in the diner had described a couple, and he knew they had to go to California to see it for themselves. They had never been so close to catching them.

His phone rings, sounding loud even though there’s people everywhere and he looks down to see Jason’s name flash on the screen.

“Hey.”

“I’m leaving the ME’s now. It looks like a snapped neck, the man was an ex-marine.” Jason speaks as he walks to the car. “Wife and kids at home.”

“This wasn’t premeditated.” Dave says as he looks around and realizes that in the dead of night there was no way no one would be able to see the murder take place. “He had recognized the unsubs from the news and went to confront the woman while the man was in the bathroom. He was on with 911 when it happened.”

“So they’re close by.” Jason concluded for him.

“They have to be.” Dave walks around the crime scene as he holds the phone to his ear. “The roadblocks are up, every cop in the state knows to be on the lookout. They won’t get away. Not this time.”

There’s a beat of silence and Dave waits for Jason to say what they both were thinking.

“Let’s hope so.”

“We can’t stay here.” Aaron told her, surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.

“I know.” She says, her bag already packed, her gun cold against the small of her back where it rests in the lining of her jeans. “I think we need to get out of the country. It’s time”

“Where do you want to go?” He cups the back of her neck, the hand that only a couple of hours before had snapped a guy’s neck, was now so gentle as he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Anywhere we want.” She smiles when she hands him the passports that Clyde had made for them. “As long as we go fast.”

He nods, because they had planned for this, had planned for what they would do if something went wrong. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. But they had a plan, actually had multiple ways to leave and somewhere in the back of his mind he thanks whatever lucky star for Emily’s funds.

She watches as he carries their bags to the car with a small smile. She knew she should be worried, that she should be scared because at any moment they could be found. But she isn’t, she’s excited, a familiar rush running through her at the thought of a chase. It’s a new kind of adrenaline, and she wonders if she’s found another way to get the high she’s always chasing.

They drive on backroads, not caring that the drive would take much longer, because they knew that any highway was a road to getting caught. His hand rests on her thighs as they drive, her smaller one on top of his and when she squeezes it he looks at her.

“Do you feel bad?” She asks and he knows what she means without her having to elaborate.

“We don’t know if that man deserved to die, but he put us in danger. It was worth it.” He offers her a small smile and she squeezes his hand again, a smirk on her face.

“It was sexy.” She says, dark eyes gleaming and he chuckles.

“My dirty girl.” He always loved how much his killing turned her on and it took every ounce of willpower not to put the car in park to have his way with her. But they needed to get to Arizona, from there they’d be able to get on a flight. It was a long drive, hours on the road, and they didn’t have time to stop.

“Once we’re safe, I’ll show you just how dirty I can be.” She feels his fingers dig into her thigh and she grins.

“You think you haven’t shown me exactly how filthy you can be yet, sweetheart?” He chuckles, but there’s an uncomfortable ache in the pit of his stomach, want quickly settling between his legs.

“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She leans over the center console and licks his neck, her teeth grazing the skin there slowly before he urges her back into her seat.

“You’re sure we can trust Clyde with this right?” He asks, needing to think about something else, anything else, than how much he wanted her.

“Yes. He’s already made arrangements, we’re flying early tomorrow morning.” She knew that Aaron didn’t fully trust Clyde, but he had been the only one to help her when she decided to get away from her old life, had helped her again after she killed Ian. If there was anybody she trusted except for Aaron, it was him.

“How did you meet him?” He realized he had never asked her.

“His dad worked for my dad, and when he got older, he just like me, wanted another life. When I decided to leave, when I decided to become someone else, I reached out to him and he lived in the Netherlands, I went there and he helped me become Lauren Reynolds. We didn’t speak again until Ian, but he has connections everywhere, can make anyone disappear and he helped me again.” She didn’t talk much about life with Ian, much less about her time with her parents and she knew Aaron was hanging onto every word.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to still be in contact with him? If he has ties to your parents and your old life?” He knew that Emily was intelligent, that she wouldn’t take unnecessary risks with her life.

“He, just like me, changed everything about himself, he technically doesn’t exist. He made it look like he died in a plane crash years ago.” She took his hand again. “Trust me, we don’t have to worry about him.”

“Okay sweetheart.” He pulls her into a kiss, a quick thing stamped onto her lips that she smiles into. “We better hope we don’t get caught before we get to the plane.” He winks at her, and she knows that he’s finding this just as thrilling as she did.

They had been looking for hours, had every cop in the city out patrolling the streets. But still, the unsubs were gone.

“It’s like catching smoke.” Dave grunts as he sits in the precinct with Jason, a cup of bad coffee in front of him on the table.

“No killer is unstoppable, but maybe we simply got here too late.” He says, his own cup untouched in front of him. “They know we’re after them, they had a head start.”

“What are you thinking Jason?” He looks at the look of sadness on his friend’s face.

“We know that they have money, that they’ve travelled the country for a long time, the woman seems like a ghost, she doesn’t exist anywhere. They’re getting ready to leave the country. And we might not be able to stop them.”

“I’m calling the airports.” The detective that’s seated with them says and Jason nods, but as he looks at Dave he knows that he’s thinking the same thing he is. The unsubs had an escape plan, and now they’re stuck playing catchup.

Emily yawns as she drives on the deserted roads, it was late, they had been driving for most of the day and night. She looks over to Aaron who’s sleeping beside her, his usually intense face as relaxed as it’ll ever be and she smiles. They were getting close to the private airport, they were close to escaping. She wondered what their new life was going to be like.

As she sits there, lost in her own thoughts her phone rings and Aaron grunts beside her as he wakes up.

“Yeah?” She already knew who it was, he was the only one who had her number.

“One of my men saw you passing him about a minute ago. Ditch the car, I’ll have him pick you up.” Clyde’s low voice sounds through the phone.

“Why?” She asks but still pulls off to the side of the road while keeping him on speakerphone so Aaron can hear.

“Because your rental is more noticeable than one of my cars.” She can hear his smirk through the phone. “Leave it where you are, about a mile down there’s a gas station, we’re waiting for you there.”

“What about the car we’re driving now?” She puts the car in park while Aaron rubs his eyes and stretches.

“We’ll make it disappear, it won’t be traced back to either of you. Come on darlin’, no need to be difficult about this.”

She looks to Aaron who nods, seemingly agreeing to the plan and they both get out of the car.

“Okay, see you soon.” She throws the phone to the ground and smashed it. She wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

It was almost 3AM when a young cop comes running into the small conference room they’re sitting in.

“They’re in Arizona! We got a call from a detective, they saw the suspects getting into a car at a gas station.”

“They have help.” Jason stands up at the same time as Dave.

“But they won’t be able to board a plane. Everyone knows to be on the lookout.” The cops says, his voice hopeful.

“They have money, connections. They’re probably flying out from a smaller airport, one that won’t be stopping them if given enough money.” Dave explains as they start to walk through the precinct, they didn’t have a lot of time.

“Like a bribe? But that’s illegal.”

Dave smiles at the other man’s innocence and squeezes his shoulder.

“Money will get you anywhere, kid.”

“Come on, we need to get there, we’re calling the team in Arizona on the way.” Jason is already holding the phone to his ear as he urges Dave to follow him. “We’ve got them.”

“The cops are coming, the whole fucking cavaliere.” Clyde says with a grin on his face, clearly enjoying the situation.

“How do you know?” Aaron asks as he sits on the small private plane next to Emily who’s leaning into his side, his arm around her shoulders.

“I have men everywhere, and I’ve gotten three calls already.” The British man looks at them with something close to glee. “You did always know how to make things interesting, darlin’”

Emily rolls her eyes but still smiles at his words. She feels Aaron’s hand tightening on her upper arm and she looks at him in amusement. She found his jealousy sexy, she always had, and he always wanted to put his claim on her, always wanted her to feel like his.

“Thank you for helping us out.” She says to the man across from her.

“I’ll always like helping an old friend out. For a fee that is.” He winks at her and she shakes her head at the way all Clyde always wanted was money. She takes the suitcase beside her and slides it over the table, her eyebrow arched as she waits for him to open it.

“That should be more than enough.” She swears she sees his eyes light up at the sight of the bills in neat stacks in the suitcase. “Now, get us out of here.” Her gun rests on the table and she picks it up casually and she feels Aaron tense against her side, always ready to back her up if needed.

“No need to get violent Em. You’ll be in the air in less than thirty.”

“We’ll have to be quicker than that.” Aaron says as he looks out the window where he sees blue lights in the distance. “We have to go now.”

Dave doesn’t think the devastation of making it only minutes too late would be something he’ll ever get over. He will never forget seeing the small plane take off, a shadow of a man looking back at him from the air.

He wouldn’t give up on finding them, but realistically he knew that he might never do. There was no trail where they had gone, no transactions to look into, no bank accounts, not even the people helping their unsubs had their real identeties. It wouldn’t have mattered if they did though, they were gone. All of them.

Aaron smiles his thanks at the bartender as he grabs their drinks. The sun was hot on his skin, the sand soft as he walked in his flipflops towards the sunbeds where Emily was laying. She looks up at him from behind her glasses, her skin shining from the lotion and sweat and he licks his lips at the sight.

When he hands her the colorful drink she had asked for, she sits up in her chair. She clinks her glass with his, a smile on her face. “We made it.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #aaron x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction

27 notes · View notes

storiesofsvu · 2 years ago

Text

A Dangerous Game Ch 13

Emily Prentiss x readear Warnings: language, alcohol, smut, daddy!prentiss, very light talk of canon type of violence/situations. I'm really not sure if i like this chapter, part of why it took so long was because i was just not feelin the smut, so that's why the smut is limited. sorrryyyy. next ch will be better! promise!

“Hello?” Emily’s voice rang through your car speaker and you almost instantly relaxed.

“Hey.” You couldn’t help but smile, “I happen to be in your neck of the woods and was thinking about picking up dessert if you’re interested?”

“Sounds like your date went really well.” She half teased, a smile taking over her cheeks as she glanced to her watch, not doubting that you’d left dinner early.

“Ugh, update you later. Are you home? I’ll swing by.”

“Uh…” She suddenly rocked back to reality, glancing back to the pile of dirt on her floor, “you know, Serg is being a real asshole tonight, he just peed all over the bed, can we do your place?”

“Yeah, course. Give me like, half hour? I’ll pick up some wine too.”

“Sounds great.”

“K, I’ll see ya in a bit.”

“Bye.”

The line clicked as you hung up the phone and Emily let out a puff of breath, chewing her lip into her mouth as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do about the bug. If she destroyed it, whoever planted it would know that she’d found it, right now she had the high ground, she’d just have to filter herself to a point while in her apartment, she could handle that. She grabbed a coffee mug she rarely used, scooping up most of the dirt and the bug, placing it back on the shelf it had previously been on before cleaning up the broken ceramic.

Figuring she’d likely spend the rest of the weekend at your place she headed to the bedroom to pack up whatever she might need, Sergio let out a very annoyed meow over being trapped in the room and she rolled her eyes when he darted past her. She made sure that he had more than enough food and water, gave him a little scratch behind the ear, warning him to be good while she was gone and headed out the door.

She couldn’t help but be distracted on the drive over, her mind attempting to replay everything since the party at Rossi’s. For the briefest moment her mind jumped to worst case scenario that this had all been a set up from the start and that you knew exactly who she was the night you’d met at the bar but she managed to squash that down with the reminder that whatever was on the bug would incriminate you as well. Not to mention it wouldn’t make any sense for you to have bugged her apartment, you were basically the only one that was ever there. Penelope had been over for coffee and Sergio snuggles one weekend, but aside from that it was just you, which, very unfortunately, meant there was a whole lot of sex that someone was listening in on. She shuddered at the thought, thankful at least that the bug had been in the living room and not the bedroom.

Letting out a breath, she pulled onto the freeway and her mind drifted from who planted it to what she should do about it. She recognized the style, it was a relatively popular type of bug but one that was readily available both online and in stores, it would be useless to try and track the person down that way. She considered looping in Penelope but that would mean moving it… and that Penelope would very likely be privy to what was recorded and she certainly wasn’t ready for that. No, that wasn’t the route to go, she had to figure out a list of suspects who had the motive and means to want to track her and go from there, questioning and eliminating until she found the guy. Stopped at a red light she let out a groan, running her hand over her face, despite most of the BAU’s unsubs either getting killed on crime scenes or being sentenced to life in prison, there were the few who got shorter sentences. She was going to have to go through every case and double cross with any recent releases.

This was going to be one hell of a fucking headache.

When you pulled open the front door Emily absolutely lost every coherent thought in her brain.

“Holy shit you look fucking hot.” Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh, your cheeks heating with the way her gaze dragged up your body. You hadn’t changed yet, still in a deep blue fitted wrap dress that showed off just enough leg and a respectable amount of cleavage. Your hair was styled in loose curls, more makeup and jewelry than you’d normally wear to work to finish it all off.

“Thank you.” You chuckled, letting her in and swinging the door shut behind her.

“This is date night you? Because fuck take out, I’m actually going to take you out next week Jesus Christ.”

“Em…” You laughed again, warmth blooming through your whole body.

“I mean it. Wow.”

“You gonna come in or are you just gonna stare?” You asked with a laugh, swatting at her arm before turning up the stairs, more than well aware that she was definitely staring at your ass as she followed you onto the main floor.

There was a candle burning on your coffee table next to a pile of paperwork, aromas of lilac wafting through the space, a fuzzy blanket strewn across the couch, a book open but upturned on top of it. Her eyes swept through the space and she smiled, god did she ever love just how comfortable your place was. It always had this overwhelming sense of calm and welcoming, somewhere she couldn’t help but relax and feel at peace. When she turned back to the kitchen you’d poured her out a glass of wine, sliding it toward her before picking up a pizza pop you’d been hallway through when she knocked on the door.

“I thought you picked up dessert?”

“I did.” You mumbled, swallowing the bite down, “this is dinner.”

“You didn’t even make it to the main course!?” She nearly laughed, “the date was that much of a dud? Jeeze I thought Morgan of all people would have better judgement.”

“I mean… it was fine? There was potential, she was cute but…” you trailed off, wondering if you should just drop the bomb right off the start until you huffed, “bland. She was bland, and she ordered for me.”

“Eck.”

“Terrible taste in wine too.”

“This leftovers?” She asked, pointing to the take out container on the counter and you nodded. Curiosity got the better of her and she popped the container open, “is this a crab cake?”

“Yup.” You grimaced.

“You hate crab, specifically in cake form!”

“Exactly!” You let out a frustrated groan, “and you know that because you— know me.” You rolled your eyes, “and that’s not even the worst of it, she paired it with a cab sauv!”

“Okay what person in their right mind doesn’t at least google wine pairings if they’re trying to impress?” She laughed, “you pair crab with chardonnay!”

“Thank you!” Picking up your wine glass you took a hefty swig, shaking your head at yourself, “I don’t even know why I went, it was stupid. I would’ve much rather just been with you.” Your free hand finally found hers, gently tugging her toward you and her arms instinctually found their home on your waist while yours loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“Well at the very least it got you in this dress.” Emily smirked and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss her and the moment your lips met it was as if both of you melted into each other’s arms. The kiss was slow, genuine, soft as lips moved with grace. You pulled away only a fraction, happy grins on both your cheeks,

“You really like the dress hey?”

“I do.” She nodded, stealing another kiss.

“Guarantee you’ll like what’s under it better.” You teased and Emily pulled back a bit further, raising a brow.

“If you put on fancy lingerie for another woman I just might have to punish you…”

“Sounds like someone might be a little jealous?” Smirking, you raised a brow and she let out an offended scoff.

“Absolutely not.” She stuttered suddenly under your gaze, “okay, okay. Yeah… I was jealous tonight; I didn’t like the idea of you being out with someone else.”

“Well you’ve got nothing to worry about.” You kissed her softly, then shrugged, “and I forgot to do laundry before California, it’s like fourth tier under the dress.” Emily barked a laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at the way it reached her eyes, the way her nose scrunched up before she stole a smiling kiss from you.

“As long as it means I get you, I’ll take fourth tier any day angel.”

“You spoil me.” Your lips brushed against hers as you spoke and only a second later she was kissing you again. Her hands began to roam your body, cupping your tits through your dress, squeezing softly earning a quiet moan from you before her fingers pinched at your nipples. Your hands sunk lower on her body, squeezing her ass in retaliation, tugging her closer to you. Her teeth sunk into your lower lip, tugging it away from you before letting it release, her eyes dark as she looked down at you.

“I’m gonna remind you exactly why you don’t need to be going on stupid little dates, alright princess?”

“Yes daddy.” You nodded, a wicked grin on your cheeks.

“Good girl.” She pinched at your chin before her lips returned to yours, this time her tongue quickly sliding into your mouth, groaning over the taste that was so sweetly you. Her hands tickled up your thighs, slipping under your dress before they tugged down your panties, urging you to kick them off your legs.

One hand remained under your dress, simply palming at your cunt until you were rocking into her hand in a steady rhythm. She broke the kiss to glance down at you, watching with a happy smile as your eyes fluttered shut, your skin breaking out in goosebumps, fire peaking right under it. Emily kissed across your jaw, teeth scraping the column of your neck, pulling whimpers and moans from you as she did so. Finally her fingers slid through your folds and you shivered, letting out a little whimper right before she captured your lips in a kiss again. Her lips moved in time with her hand, trailing through your wetness, smearing your juices around your pussy before one finger slipped in and you broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Oh god…”

“That’s it angel.”

She cooed, her finger pumping slowly inside you, crooking just enough to hit the spot you wanted it most. A second one slid in alongside it and you moaned, your walls stretching and fluttering around her fingers. Your hand clenched at her shoulder and she picked up the speed, fingers thrusting deeper with each stroke, curling every second pump. As always, she had you exactly where you wanted within minutes, knowing how to read you perfectly, knowing just what you wanted and how. The heel of her hand brushed against your clit and your body shuddered, legs nearly giving out and she chuckled.

“Let’s get you to the couch.” She murmured, nipping at your earlobe as she pulled her fingers from you and you whined.

In the three feet between the kitchen island and the couch she skillfully managed to rid you of your dress and bra, letting you collapse onto the couch completely bare while your hands tugged at her clothes until she was down to her panties. Her fingers were still slick with your juices, hand coming to tilt your head up toward her while she stood beside the couch,

“Get daddy’s fingers nice and wet.”

In a flash your lips had wrapped around them, sucking them clean from your juices, tongue swirling around her digits while she pumped them in and out of your mouth. Continuing to suck on them your tongue eagerly lapped against her skin and when she pulled them from your mouth they were slick with spit.

“That’s my good girl.” She praised, hand returning to between your legs and easily sliding into your pussy. You fell back onto the couch, letting out a breathy sigh as Emily settled between your legs, fingers fucking into you once again.

“Oh god.. Oh fuck!” You whined, hands scrambling for her body, aching to feel her on you. To not tease you too much, she leant forward, holding herself up over your body while continuing to finger you. Her lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into her mouth and you moaned, hips rocking up to her fingers while your hand tangled into her hair. She bit down before her tongue soothed other the same spot while her fingers picked up the speed.

Your skin burned, pleasure shooting through you, tingling down to your toes as your body trembled underneath hers. Emily smirked against your tit, feeling the way your pussy was fluttering around her fingers, shivering each time she brushed against your g-spot. Her mouth latched onto the other side of your chest, her free hand pinching at the side she’d left, nipple hardening in the cool air of the room.

“Fuck… fuck!” You cried out, “gonna come…”

“That’s the point angel.” She teased before her teeth sunk into the curve of your breast in an attempt to leave you with a mark, one that would let anyone else know that you were taken, that you were hers.

Your back arched off the couch, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as her fingers pressed into your g-spot harder and longer than before, hips shuddering up towards her before stilling, your peak rocking through you. Emily smiled softly against your skin, her fingers slowing, gently fucking your through your orgasm while continuing to suck at your chest.

“Christ…” you swore quietly, your chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath and Emily chuckled, sitting up to steal a kiss.

“I’m far from done princess.” With a wicked grin she sunk to her knees between your legs, leaving little kisses and bites on your inner thighs while they trembled under her touch.

True to her word, she brought you to your peak another two times, once with just her mouth and once using both her mouth and her fingers, eagerly lapping up your juices as they dripped down your thighs.

You’d completely forgot about your date by the time she was done, wrapping you in her arms so you could finally relax and catch your breath, tossing the blanket over both of you. She was on her back, resting against the arm on the couch, hand gently stroking at your head that was placed on her chest while the two of you got lost in what had been playing on the television. You yawned quietly, almost nuzzling deeper into her chest and she chuckled softly.

“Are you gonna stay?” You asked and she nodded.

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Gave Serg enough food for a couple of days.”

“What about your sheets?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed and she glanced down at you, though you were still just watching tv.

“If you leave cat pee all weekend you’re never going to get the smell out.”

“Oh!” She felt her heart jump into her throat as reality came crashing down around her, remembering why she had ended up at your place in the first place and her lie she’d used to cover it up, “I left them soaking, they’ll be fine.”

“Mmkay.” You replied, sitting up, “should we get upstairs?” You asked and she raised an eyebrow, sitting up as well. “I do believe I was promised a cock too?”

She chuckled, her brain shifting once again as she leant in to kiss you, just fiery enough to leave both of you aching for more. “You were practically begging to stop an hour ago.”

“You said I looked cute when I begged.”

“You do.”

“If I have to beg for daddy’s cock I will.”

“Oh princess.” Her hand stroked down the side of your cheek, pinching at your chin, “you’ve been good, there’s no need to beg.”

With a small laugh, you kissed her again before slipping off the couch and wrapping your dress back around you. If you were going upstairs you at least had to toss the leftovers and the untouched dessert into the fridge. Emily followed suit, tossing her shirt back on so she wasn’t completely topless, folding the blanket over the back of the couch and blowing out the candle on the coffee table. Her eyes glanced over the case file next to it and she frowned.

“You’re not obsessing over Dewald, are you?”

“Hmm?” You asked, turning back to her as you crossed the room and she gestured to the file, “Oh, no.” You laughed, “bout an hour before you got here sheriff from Beaufort called. They’d found a car abandoned just across the South Carolina border with no tags or plates a couple of months ago, no one thought anything about it til they saw the Federal bolo and realized it was the same make and model. He only scratched off half the bin number so now we know he made it out of Florida.”

“Mmm.” She replied, turning back to the case file she was nearly tempted to flip through it, see what other details you might have noted that she’d forgotten about. An uncaught unsub from recently definitely would be high up on the list, at least this was one you were monitoring, “hey… thanks for keeping up on this case, I know you’ve already got enough on your plate.”

“Meh.” You shrugged, your hand smoothing a piece of her hair back behind her ear, “feels weird to let it go, ya know? Being the original agent on the case and then having a run in with him twice with the BAU? It’s like the universe wants me to be the one to take him down.”

“Yeah…” She sighed softly, glancing up to you with a smile when you squeezed at her shoulder, prompting her off the couch. Her hand tangled with yours as you guided her to the stairs, you were one step up when she stalled, “aren’t you gonna set the alarm?”

“What alarm?” You turned back to her with a laugh.

“You’re seriously an FBI agent who doesn’t have a security system?”

“Yeah….”

“Seriously!?”

“I live in Alexandria… and I have a gun.” You laughed once again, “places I’ve lived without a gun… Clearwater. The door’s double locked, pinky swear. C’mon.”

“You should at least get a doorbell cam.”

“Calm down Prentiss.” You shook your head, “I only bought the place nine months ago, I’m still considering if it’s the right fit or not. I’ve got good neighbours and we’re in a nice area. C’mon.” Your head tilted, eyes glittering, “I was told I wasn’t going to have to beg….”

Emily let out a mock offended scoff, her brow raising in your direction as a wicked grin took over her lips, you certainly knew how to rollercoaster her train of thought and she definitely wasn’t complaining. Only a second later you were letting out a shriek as she was on you, chasing you up the stairs to give you exactly what you wanted.

___________________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @lavenderhoney94 @overtrred28

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #a dangerous game

220 notes · View notes