#not all of them! i think jj and spencer struggle to come to terms with it (jj moreso)

[nerdytreeflower]

Sunshine: Prologue

Derek Morgan X Reader

Summary: Bestfriends. Or something close to that anyway. That's what they are, but after one wine-fuelled night's sleep and a whole load of tossing and turning, one side of the friendship becomes strained. Derek Morgan wants to know why. Which is when the perfect opportunity comes from the pipecleaner with eyes and she has no choice but to confront the feelings she believes are one-sided. Confrontation and serial killers seem like a good mix, right? That's what I thought.

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Okay, so here is the prologue of the first fanfic I have ever written so constructive criticism is extremely welcome. And yes, I have written this statement before somewhere but also please keep in mind I am easily hurt so any mean comments will quite possibly reduce me to tears.

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

It was all Reid's idea. Even if that's not what Hotch believed, the young genius had a way of suggesting ideas in a broad term and leaving it to another member of the team to own the epiphany of the actual idea itself. Whether it be for their egos or his exhaustion from having to be the smart one all the time she hadn't quite figured it out. All she knew was that stupidly innocent smile the doctor had sent her when Hotch suggested that the two agents going undercover to catch the unsub would be Morgan and herself. And that their cover would be a married couple.

She did not doubt that this case could be done just as successfully with any other combination of agents on the team, but one quip made it clear that, in their unit chief's opinion, she and Morgan would accurately fit the victimology. No further objections were made on her end, especially as the first she made was met with a teasing remark from the object of her struggles himself.

"What, you scared to get a little action, Sweetheart?" he had teased, any other day prior she would have met his teasing head-on, even flirting back a little. But today she avoided as much eye contact as she could, looking down at the file that showed the case and where they would be staying as the resort didn't want the reputation of the establishment and they had the backing of some frequent customers that were high up on the BAU's hierarchy. Ergo, the covert observation and investigation.

"I just want to make sure we are the best qualified for this, the choice of agents we use could determine if we catch this guy." Hotch nodded and out of the corner of her eye, she could see the shift in Morgan's expression. The last thing she wanted to do was make him doubt her trust in him, as backup or as a friend.

"This is the decision I've made and I believe it to be the most representative of this unsub's victimology," Hotch explained as if understanding her concern. Spencer was still smiling, looking proud of himself. She couldn't help but think that none of this would have happened if they hadn't invited him on one of their girl's nights out.

"We need more shots! I'm going to get more shots!" Penelope left despite the refusal of the others at the bar table, she put her head in her arms with laughter bubbling up her throat. 

"Hotch is going to kill us if we come in hungover tomorrow," she whined and the others groaned and laughed, all bubbled up by the cocktails prior.

"Can you blame her? I too want to see how well Boy Genius here handles tequila," Emily huffed, nudging Spencer who already looked dazy, empty glasses in front of him.

"Think of it as the initiation," JJ teased and he had the sense to look slightly wary.

"What do I get once I've passed the initiation?"

"Rather cocky, aren't we?"

"Well, I-"

"Relax, Spence, once you've passed the initiation then you get full access. All the things we talk about, all the gossip and secrets we share- you are privy to." His eyes lit up, knowledge was something he always craved, there was little left of factual knowledge he could absorb, but opinions and new events? He knew nothing of them, his curiosity was peaked.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" two tequila shots are placed in front of him and all four girls look at him expectantly. He winced and threw back the first one, face looking like he was chewing on a lemon but it passed after a couple of seconds and the next one went down. They cheered and all leaned into the table, as if ready to start whispering.

"Okay, what's the first piece of gossip we can think of," she asked but immediately regretted it when they all turned to her.

it was now a week later, on their first case since that night, and just over two weeks since she had not been able to look Derek Morgan in the eye because of her stupid subconscious' need to ruin one of the most important relationships in her life. Before, they would flirt playfully, and hang out together constantly, they were, as PG put it, "Practically Besties". 

Now, if she could help it they wouldn't even look each other in the eye, she could tell that it was driving him crazy trying to figure out what happened, what he did. But it wasn't what he did, it was what she did, well more specifically what she dreamed that had changed the entire view of their relationship in her eyes. Not that she could say anything, lest it be ruined further by her selfish desires to make something impossible out of something she already had.

When she zoned back in, everyone was standing, "Wheels up in 50, Morgan, Sunny, does that give you enough time to gather what you need?" Hotch asked and she nodded, packing up her files and rushing out the door as if her tail was on fire. She grabbed her bag and made her way to the elevator, ignoring the call to hold the door, and immediately left the building, getting in her car and driving home to pack her bags for the possible two-week-long case that would require her acting head-over-heels in love with one of her best friends. She just wished that acting was all it was.

Derek Morgan was not known for his humility. His looks, his ability to sweet-talk the clothes right off a woman's body, and his increasing ability to be a thorn in the side of the financial department of the BAU? Maybe. ('The doors, Derek. The doors' she had once explained to him when one of the suit-wearing lower floor employees was glaring at him from the coffee machine) But not his humility.

This was a mistake of quick judgement, anyone who had known him for as long as the team had would tell you, that in fact, Derek Morgan was kind-hearted and surprisingly modest when it came to many areas of his life. 

One of those areas just happened to be her.

He was a profiler; he got paid to practically translate the minds of people others in the criminal justice system could barely dream of empathising with. In layman's terms, he got paid to read people. Consequently, he was also great at fending off similar intuitions from his coworkers that housed the same abilities- good at hiding things from most people.

However, the new and unforeseen pivot of the once strong and budding connection he had with his teammate had thrown him off completely, to a point where he had trouble pulling the wool over even the most oblivious member's eyes. One day they were trading flirtatious and witty remarks over the barrier between their desks and the next she couldn't even make eye contact, she wouldn't as shown by her immediate dismissal of any attempt to communicate within the past week. He was starting to feel the long-term effects of the lack of attention on her part like a withdrawal. 

Like a flower that once preened in a warm wash of intense sun only to be left stretching for even a scrap of light when it was rooted solidly to the ground, blocked from the single isolating cloud that didn't appear to overshadow the rest of the meadow. He had been deprived of his sunlight and it was driving him insane, he depended on her attention for warmth and satisfaction. And even worse he didn't know why, what had he done to make her stop shinning on him? 

He had tried so hard over the past several days once he had noticed something awry, but every time he started up a conversation it was shot down. Not impolitely, but certainly, not friendly either, not the person he had grown to expect over the years, to cherish- the extremes to which he would go to see her smile at him were getting ridiculous, he was an addict and she was selfishly depriving him.

Derek Morgan was distraught.

A small modicum of hope bloomed in his chest when he heard their new assignment. Despite the obviously horrific serial killer, it was one that would not fail to get his heart racing even without the currently present cold turkey from his vice, one he would at any given time derive immense joy from being as close to her as the assignment would entail.

That hope was then snuffed out as she didn't make eye contact, didn't respond to the tease he baited her with, and ran away as soon as the meeting was over, not even holding the elevator door for him whether it be through lack of hearing or effort he did not know. What he did know was that this assignment was happening, that the decision was already made by the higher-ups, and the fact that they would be spending at least the next week together was irrefutable. And his chance to find out whatever he had done and fix it.

A/N: Please comment any and all constructive criticisms you may have!

[maschotch]

I've gone a little deeper about Emily's past in my fic 'Unrequited' and 'As It Was'. I'm just obsessed with her character and the backstory both she and Hotch have. And I just finish reading the little backstory you did about Emily and I loved it!!

i’m really not much of a jemily fan (partly because i think fanon characterizations of jj are completely delusional, partly because i think fanon characterizations of emily are beyond insulting, and mostly because i cannot fucking fathom what anyone could possibly like about jj), but i went ahead and read those two pieces because i figured you came into my inbox already knowing that. it’s just… not how i see either of those characters. not even necessarily the shipping aspect, even ignoring my reservations about jj, but because of the way i think emily approaches relationships

this sounds hypocritical after writing about emily + family, but i feel like emily doesn’t really care about her biological family anymore. at least i’d like to. i’d like to think she’s accepted that she’ll never be what her mother wants and that she’ll never get what she wants from her mother. she’s 36 when she joins the bau—surely that’s enough time to realize she can’t hold onto those childish fantasies anymore. not that i disagree with what i wrote, i just think it's given her a complex ab family rather than it actually being something she truly craves. it was a setup for her life: she wasn't meant to be with others, which is something she eventually tries to change about herself

i’m a big fan of low-empathy emily, so i feel like she has to put active effort into caring about relationships. as a child raised by an extremely distant parent, she probably chalked it up to never having connections growing up, so she never learned how to make connections in the future. it’s easier to assume she’s broken, and it’s easier to blame her mom for it

but really, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, she’s just different. at some point i think she had to wrestle with that: it’s hard to think she fell into the job best suited for her personality just by coincidence. being a spy requires that cold, calculating observation and analysis of relationship dynamics. she can view things objectively because she isn’t naturally inclined to get emotionally attached. she can witness unfathomable horrors without a flinch—things that would rock jj to her core, things that would perturb the unflappable hotch. she knows she’s better equipped to handle those types of experiences because having empathy was never really a priority. (it's part of why i think she was the only one who could've walked through hotch's apartment that day: she wouldn't get distracted)  

that being said, i don’t think connections are impossible for her. the bau proves that, declan proves that. but i think that was a conscious choice on her part: she had seen enough—caused enough—pain and grief to realize that she should feel guilty for it. so i think she wakes up every day and decides to care. she decides to be a good person. eventually she confronts that she's tired of living a life she doesn't feel like she could be proud of

she’s not heartless, by any means. she just doesn’t become emotionally involved until she comes to the logical conclusion to do so. she has a soft spot for kids because they haven’t had a chance to truly know themselves and the world they live in. she loves the team because of how deeply connected they are to each other. so, when push comes to shove, she’s always willing to leave if it means keeping them together. it’s easy to make that choice because she loves them: in season 3 when the choice is between her and hotch and she knows hotch’s loss will devastate them; in season 6 when she’s making them potential targets for doyle’s vendetta; in season 7 when she feels the tension that never quite settled upon her return. i don’t know if any of the others would’ve made those decisions as easily, even if it was the best choice for them as a whole. not even hotch, who is terrified that his proximity is enough to hurt people he cares about. she’s detached in a way that can separate her from others, but she’s able to turn that into her strength: whether that means manipulating her way into terrorist organizations or walking away from the only chance at a family she's ever had just to keep them safe

i have my bits and pieces of evidence for it that i can scrounge into a semi-believable character analysis, but ultimately i think it’s so i can enjoy more of her character without getting irked by aspects of the archetypes she could fit that would typically annoy me. i’d like to think she’s above some of that: she’s too cool to have mommy issues, too badass to spend years pining over relationships, too self assured to be insecure about her decisions, too smart to let anyone see through her. 

i say all this as a hotch fan, who has traits very similar to these. but it suits him. it makes him more interesting, to know that there’s a vulnerability behind his stoic appearance. but with emily i think it’s far more admirable for her to choose to suffer because she wants to care. minimal loss is the perfect example of that: she makes the logical choice to put herself at risk because she wants to protect reid. she’s not running away from who she is anymore, and she’s not really fighting it either. she chooses to be a good person, not out of guilt or even love, but because it’s something she values. 

for me, emily is the cool brooding hero who could be a villain so easily. maybe, in an earlier time in her life, she was. but she’s done being selfish. she’s willing to make sacrifices for others because she decided that living by a code is better than living for nothing at all, even if it causes her pain. guilt and love—two burning sensations that were so opposite yet so intrinsically linked—were burdens she chose to bear so she wouldn’t feel so hollow anymore. and it does cause her pain. so, so much pain. to me, it makes her endlessly more fascinating. i’d rather her be a knife that dulls its edges than something soft chiseled to a jagged point. 

[pinkcoffeecup]

caught in the act, spencer reid

Summary: Y/n and Spencer has been together for seven months, yet none of the team members suspect a thing. Well, at least not until Spencer, whilst being a little too distracted, forgets to lock the door to his apartment.

Warnings: Slight Dom!Spencer, fem!reader, Sexual themes (kissing, pet names, slight degradation), no smut (but like almost)

Word count: 1105

"Yeah, I, uh, we’re landing now, I’ll see you soon,” Spencer mumbled into his phone, trying not to catch the attention of any of the team, “Love you,”

Y/n and Spencer had been together for seven months, yet none of his team, his family, knew. In fact, none of them even had the slightest suspicion he was seeing someone.

He hadn’t intended on them not knowing. At first, he had decided to keep it a secret, simply because he didn’t want to jinx it. But then time went on, and a good time to tell them never came around, and once the couple hit six months, Spencer decided that every possible chance he had to tell them, had passed and that it was now officially too late to tell them. “Are you coming Spence?” JJ asked, the whole team looking at him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Drinks? Rossi’s paying,” She added.

It wasn’t unusual for the team to go out for drinks after a case like this. It had been a long, tough nine days in LA, and everyone needed to wind down. But Spencer hated to be away from Y/n for this long, especially as she was struggling to fit all her university coursework into her busy schedule.

And whilst Spencer’s mind was brilliant, but when it came to lying, he was no mastermind. His hands would get all clammy, and his breath would fall short as his words tripped out of his mouth “I can’t tonight, I, uh, I have this book I want to read”

“Are you sure?” Morgan said, “Come on kid, maybe you’ll meet someone you like, y’know?” a suggestive smirk made its way to his lips, oblivious to Y/n who was the only someone on Spencer's mind.

“I’m sure,” Spencer’s voice had somehow stabilised, and with a sense of authority, he added, “But have fun,” before heading out of the jet.

-

He twisted the keys in the lock, slowly opening the door to his apartment. Spencer was always careful to lock the door behind him, he almost did it per automatic, but today, his mind was crowded with something, someone else.

“Spencer!” She rushed up to him, clinging to his tall figure, “God I missed you,”

He rested a hand on the back of her head, and another around her waist, pulling her closer, “I missed you too princess,”

She smiled at the pet name, adjusting her chin on his chest so that she could look at him. She really had missed him, more than she thought she would. She liked to think of herself as independent, but when it came to Spencer, she was anything but that.

“Hey! I almost forgot!” She remembered, a smile spreading across her lips, “I have officially submitted my last essay this term,”

Spencer couldn’t feel anything but pride and happiness for her. “No way! I’m so proud of you!”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction, “I suppose we have to celebrate then, don’t we?” He mumbled, both his hands resting at her hips as he placed a small kiss on her lips. “Do you deserve it?” he asked, his lips making their way to her neck.

“Mhm,” She responded, allowing him to pick her up from the floor, her legs wrapped around his waist. He walked towards his couch, never letting his lips leave her body.

He sat down, placing her straddling his lap. “Never leaving for this long again,” he said, moving back to kiss her lips again, “missed you too much, missed this”

Her hands made their way to his tie, fumbling with the fabric, “I see you missed me too,” He chuckled against her lips. Loosening ties had never been her strong suit, but eventually, she was able to undo the knot and move it off his neck.

Her large yellow knitted sweater was lifter over her head, leaving her in a small tank top and shorts. Her fingers made their way to the buttons on his shirt, once again struggling. Spencer seemed to enjoy the show in front of him, his desperate girl.

She only managed to unbutton four buttons before he grew impatient, grabbing her face and kissing her roughly.

“Hey, Reid?” A voice echoed through the apartment, the door being swung open, revealing Morgan, Emily, and Garcia. “Oh my god!” Penelope squealed, quickly turning back around.

“Knocking guys! Knocking!” Y/n had been quick to move off her boyfriend, sitting next to him on the couch as he tossed her the sweater. “We’re so sorry! But you forgot your bag, and we just thought we’d return it on our way to the bar,” Prentiss tried, but Morgan broke out in a fit of laughter.

“Spence?” Y/n whispered from behind him. He was quick to turn around, shocked to see her holding in a smile as she tapped imaginative buttons on her chest, “the buttons”

He looked down, seeing the randomly undone buttons, “right, the buttons,” now fumbling with the same buttons y/n had been, only minutes earlier.

“When were you planning on telling us you had a- uh- friend here tonight?” Morgan smirked, somehow emitting a small giggle out of y/n.

“I was going to at first,” Spencer defended, “Y/n told me waiting would make it weird, but then too much time passed, and I realised she was right,”

“Hold on,” Morgan said, “At first? How long has this been going on?” He looked almost offended at Spencer's decision not to tell anyone about his secret girlfriend. “seven months” Spencer mumbled.

“Seven months?!” Penelope added, “wow Spencer! I’m so happy for you!”

Derek looked at Penelope for a second, before placing his attention back on the blushing couple in front of them. “Look at you, pretty boy’s got game!” he chuckled, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Well, we’ll leave you to it then. Don’t want to be a party pooper,” He added nodding towards Y/n before releasing Spencer from his tight grip.

“Go get ‘em, kid!” He laughed, turning around and heading out the door, Penelope following him out. “Again, we’re so sorry” Emily added before following the two outside.

The second the door was shut Spencer let out an annoyed grown. But even an annoyed Spencer couldn’t help but smile at Y/n as she broke out in a fit of giggles.

Even though the previous actions had been interrupted, he didn’t mind all too much. Seeing Y/n so happy was one hundred per cent worth it, “God I love you so much,” He smiled, and even though she couldn’t quite speak as her laughter only grew, Spencer was certain she felt the same way.

[aquanova99]

Night Terrors

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

A/N: first criminal minds fic! This is based on that one episode in season2 you know the one, episode 15. I don’t think there’s anything too triggering but again as with all of my work if you could handle the show everything should be fine in what I wrote

Summary: Reid is struggling with coming to terms after his kidnapping. He desperately needs to be able to process his feelings, will y/n be able to help him through it? What happens when she finds the vial in his bag?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It was unbelievable. Y/n knew the second her phone screen showed Penelope Garcia that something was wrong. She only ever called y/n if they weren’t on a case, which they definitely were on, in fact they were supposed to be back by now.

“What’s going on?”

“Okay I’m going to need you to stay calm but I did promise Reid I would call you if something happened to him, so I’m sure you can guess that something happened.”

“Penelope. What happened?”

“We’re still looking for him?”

“WHAT?”

“Y/n try and relax everyone is working really really hard to find him okay?”

“Why was he alone in the first place?”

“Uhm well he wasn’t exactly. Him and JJ, got separated when they were chasing the unsub.”

“Why the hell did they get separated? How does that even happen?”

Penelope was panicking. She never had to make these calls. On top of that she wasn’t really sure if the answer anyway. Y/n was her friend outside of work. Reid had met her at one of the classes Gideon had taught at. She was a teacher just interested in spotting dangerous people. Said it would help her job, Spencer’s had told her it could be seen as suspicious that someone that has no need to go to a class for serial killers would show up there. Y/n began giving out statistics about serial killers and women and children abductions.

Reid would never out right admit it to Garcia but he had been completely smitten. Of course Reid never thought someone like y/n could return his affections. He was too…odd. That was putting it nicely he had though, he was sure others would have much stronger words for his personality. He didn’t miss that y/n never interrupted his ramblings. Even at work he knew he would get told to be quiet once his eidetic memory and rambling got too incessant. Y/n would often listen to several minutes of him talking even asking him questions about things she didn’t understand, it only added to his feelings. Reid had no idea she was listening because she thought it was cute when he did that, and not because she was just being nice, as he often told Penelope.

After knowing eachother for several months and seeing how dangerous the job would really get, y/n began to get nervous often asking Garcia and Reid for updates. Neither of them blamed her, Reid had told her what happened to Elle but it wasn’t until Hotch had to pretend to hate Reid by beating him up that y/n got worried. Reid had played it off but she had seen how it affected him. He would often times go to a shooting range to try and better his aim. To calm her down Reid asked Garcia to promise to tell her if anything happened to him, then she wouldn’t have a reason to worry. He had never really thought he would be in this predicament. The worst part was that it worked, y/n didn’t need updates because that meant her best friend was safe. So the phone call from Penelope was killing her. All she could do was wait.

She got a link from Penelope, y/n should have never opened it. While Garcia had done this in good faith so she would be kept in the loop, seeing Reid all beat up and that guy forcing him to choose a “sinner” to kill. Y/n remembers shutting off the computer she wouldn’t see her best friend hurt like that. She would wait.

And so she did. Two days went by before she finally received a call that they had found Spencer, shaken up but definitely alive. Y/n didn’t hesitate to rush to the airport.

Reid had understandably been pretty silent. JJ had tried to see if he wanted to talk about it but but Morgan had told her to give him space. They had an unspoken bond those two, Morgan sat next to him and almost acted as his bodyguard until they landed. Penelope had waited to tell him that y/n was probably waiting for him, she figured he didn’t need to stress over anything else, she was right. The second she told him he began speed walking out of the airport. Penelope had kept y/n in the loop about when they had taken off so she had rushed over and was waiting for them to land. She tried her best to keep it together, getting her tears out before Spencer arrived. She knew he had gone through something terrible and was determined to be the one there for him and not the other way around.

She had seen him first, “Spencer?”

He didn’t even notice he stared running until he got her and enveloped y/n in a hug. Squeezing her so tightly he slightly lifted her off the ground. Reid was always the reserved one but he didn’t care right now. Y/n had been something that had been a ground. Something he could tether to. He wasn’t quite sure where he would be if he didn’t have have her, more broken than he already was probably, he thought.

Y/n pulled back to push the hair out of his face and examine him. She could tell he was in pain still, but she also knew well enough on when to push and when to wait. Especially since he was starting to breathe really quickly, almost as if he was starting to panic. She grabbed his hand and while this usually would have made Reid malfunction, the action again calmed him down. And the two walked out leaving a very confused BAU behind.

“Wait. Reid’s never mentioned anything, wh-who is she?” JJ asked

“Oh she’s a mutual friend of ours.” Penelope said as if that explained everything

“Wait babygirl. I’m driving back with you. I need more information.”

Penelope and Derek continued to have their banter on their way out. Hitch and Gideon shared a knowing look before departing themselves. everyone remembering that while they were all a cohesive unit there were some parts of their life that were unknown to one another.

The drive to Reid’s apartment was mostly silent. Y/n knew it was better to wait to ask him anything but his leg shaking made her anxious he was always the rational, calm one. Reid on the other hand was wondering what y/n would think of him when he told her what he had done. No matter what anyone told him, he had killed someone. Not to mention he hated how weak he had felt. On top of everything he was terrified to close his eyes tonight. How was he supposed to tell y/n any of that? He began to nervously bite his hands, y/n didn’t know what else to do and instinctively put her hand on his leg. Reid jumped a bit but began to relax almost immediately.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so jumpy.” He spoke so quietly he worried y/n didn’t hear him for a second.

“Yes you do. But it’s okay. We’re going home now.” She was looking straight ahead but smiled to try and lighten the mood a bit. Luckily for both of them it worked. Now Reid was stuck on her words, he knew she meant he was taking him to his home but the way she had said ‘we’re going home now,” seemed to short circuit his brain.

I wish, he thought. He suddenly noticed her missing hand as she was starting to takeit back and he reached out to grab her hand. Y/n stiffened a bit, she wasn’t expecting Spencer to ever act like that with her.

“Sorry, I wasn—“ y/n squeezed his hand before he pulled it away

“It’s fine Spencer, don’t apologize.”

Well, what did that mean? Reid wondered, and why did y/n make it so easy for him to lose his train of thought.

Y/n puller her hand away and grabbed her bag handing it to Reid, “I got you some snack in case you were hungry.”

Reid could feel tears prick his eyes, she was always trying to take care of him.

“There’s

It didn’t take long to arrive home and Reid began to worry about what would happen next. Every movement seemed so mechanical he didn’t even notice when the two had made it inside.

Y/n had been quiet hoping Reid would talk to her own his own, didn’t he trust her?

“Do you—uhm do you want to talk about it?” She asked nervously

Reid froze, of course he wanted to talk to her. She was the only one he wanted to talk to and his words were still failing him. “Uhm, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He heard himself say

“Oh…okay.” Damnit, now she was going to think it wasn’t a good idea to talk to her. He just meant he didn’t think she would want to hear it. It had always been hard for Reid to talk to people but with y/n the last thing he wanted to do was push her away by being himself. Still, he felt the most comfortable around her so why couldn’t he vent about everything he’d just went through.

“Alright well I’ll see you later then?” Y/n began heading towards the door, Reid began tripping over himself trying to stop her

“Y/n wait it’s not—“

“It’s fine Spencer really…”

*clink*

The vial. The damn vial. As he had reached for her hand his bag had moved from his shoulders and the once hidden vial was now laying on the floor.

“Spencer. What the hell is this?” Y/n asked as she picked up the vial from the floor

“Nothing.”

“Good, then you won’t mind if I take this then.” Y/n hated when people thought she was dumb, and Reid knew that. He also knew how stubborn she was about to become

“Y/n please. I need it.”

Her eyes softened, something about Reid begging for whatever was in this pulled at her heart. Still, she knew better. Something was wrong with this.

“What. Is. It?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Try me.”

“It’s going to help me relax. I need it.” Reid reached for the vial in her hand be she was quick to snatch her hand back.

She took a few steps toward the door.

“Y/n please.” Reid was almost whimpering in front of her, she knew that this might be something that pushes Reid away from her but his well-being came first to her. She turned and smashed the tiny glass bottle from the floor of his apartment. The tiny shatter being heard from the floor below. She knew this wasn’t going to end well and she closed the door to not garner any unwanted attention.

“If you really need it I’m sure you have the connections to get more. I’m not going to help you hurt yourself.”

She did have a point if he really did want Reid knew he could get it but that would be admitting he had a problem and what would happen to his job afterwards. Still, he was angry he didn’t care at the moment and while he knew he was probably going to regret his next few words he couldn’t stop himself from yelling at y/n

“Wh-why would you do that? You have no idea what I went through? I needed that!”

“Well I would if you told me! You would have regretted taking whatever was in there anyway.”

“I. Need. It. How else am I supposed to sl—to calm down! To forget?! That was the only thing that quieted everything, the voices, the fear everything was gone and you just threw it away.” Spencer sat in his chair and covered his face with his hands. He was almost rocking back and forth now.

Y/ns heart felt heavy. She knew he had gone through something terrible but why would he have had that during those two days? Y/n realized that he was right she had no idea what he had gone through. Still she didn’t regret throwing that vial away. Spencer would regret that later, she knew him well enough for that. She kneeled down in front of soundlessly. Reid felt y/n’s hands gently pull his own away from his, she put her hand to his face running her thumb under his eye.

“You’re right I don’t know what happened to you. I can’t imagine what they did to you. But I do know you don’t need that, you’re stronger than you think you are.”

Reid breathed out a chuckle before remembering what he had done. He let his head fall, his forehead touching resting against y/ns.

“Y/n I killed someone…” just like that everything that was weighing on Reid came pouring out.

Garcia had warned y/n about this, in fact that’s when y/n had turned off her computer. She had wondered what Spencer would do in that situation and she hated hoping that he would just choose someone to die so he would be safe. And she hated herself now for being relieved that he done that,

“Spencer. Hey look at me.” Reid could barely raise his eyes to look at her, “you didn’t kill anybody, okay? That guy…he did.”

“Hm. Gideon said that too. But I chose that person.”

“What would he have done if you didn’t choose someone?”

“He-he said everyone would die.”

“So you saved the other people, and yourself. Spencer you did everything you could. They would have never found him without you.”

Reid’s lips formed a tight line. Y/n knew that was something he was going to have to work through, and it was going to take awhile. She started to stand up,

“Hey do you want me to let you sleep for now? I can come back tomorrow?”

Reid stood up and reached for her hand immediately. Grasping at it as if it was the last thing holding him there. Remembering that seeing y/n in all of those hallucinations was what helped him keep fighting.

“Please. Don’t leave. I don’t think I’m going to be able to be alone.”

Y/n nodded. She gave his hand a squeeze, and he let go fearing he’d hurt her, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Spencer it’s fine, let’s just— why don’t you go lie down in your room, you really should try and get some sleep.”

“Come with me, please?” Reid’s voice was pleading with y/n. He didn’t trust himself alone and he didn’t trust the darkness that came with sleep. He didn’t waste any time getting into clothes he could sleep in. Y/n simply followed him, sitting at the edge of the bed she instinctively ran her hand up and down his back. Y/n decided to turn on the tv on a low volume continuing to sit next to Reid. And Reid as much as he tried to sleep still wanted to desperately tell y/n about everything. His voice barely came out above a whisper,

“How much did you see?”

Y/n froze. “I couldn’t watch, he pulled you up in front of the screen and you looked so… scared? You didn’t look like you, and I was here. I didn’t know where you were. I hated it. I just— couldn’t watch.”

“I uhm I don’t think you would have liked what you saw.”

“I just didn’t want to see you be a hero. Half of me expected you to sacrifice yourself for all of those people…”

That was it, Reid thought she must think he was a coward. He knew it.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Wh-what?”

“You were in a terrifying situation and Gideon is right. It’s not your fault. He would have killed them all if you held out anyway.” Her hand went towards his hair gently scratching his head and moving the hair out of his face. Reid didn’t catch her muting the tv in case he wanted to say more.

“He saved me too you you know?”

“Who did?”

“Tobias. He had multiple people personalities. I uhm was suffocating at some point I think the dialysis caused me to have a stroke and Tobias brought me back.” Reid wasn’t able to stop the words coming out of his mouth, “I killed him too…”

“Oh spencer,” y/n wanted to calm him down but he was in another world it’s like he was more so talking to the universe trying to get his thoughts out before they consumed him whole

“He wanted to be a good person.” He began trailing off his other fears beginning to seep through, “my mom wants to be a good person.���

“Spencer.”

He turned around to face her, “what if I turn out that way. What if the voices in my head— schizophrenia is genetic I’m likely to get it.”

“You’re mom is paranoid but she’s not a bad person and neither are you, that guy, Tobias. I’m sure he had something happened to him for him to turn out that way, and it isn’t the same as your mom.”

“It could.”

“Well. I’ll be there if that happens too.”

“And if it gets too much?”

“It won’t.” Y/n assured him, Reid’s mind was spiraling. He could only hope she was telling the truth because he really wouldn’t know until that time possibly came. “Why don’t you try and watch tv until you drift off to sleep?”

Reid sort of numbly nodded and curled himself in the covers. He couldn’t really get comfortable he eventually ended up in y/ns lap. Her hand running through his hair. Before he knew it he finally let his eyes close. Y/n didn’t dare move. She waited for Reid to move on his own. She covered him up and decided to move to the edge of the bed. She figured the only way to make sure he didn’t need anything was to stay awake and that would require being distracted, with a lack of books she wanted to read the next best thing was watching tv but she didn’t want to wake Reid either so the volume was just above zero, just in case.

She wouldn’t need to worry about it for long. Reid began shaking in his sleep moaning and whimpering. Y/n worried about waking him but when she heard him beg someone to please stop, she couldn’t help herself. She just couldn’t see Reid like that.

“Reid?” She said softly shaking him at first, “Reid.”

She shook him a bit more firmly as his cries for help grew louder

“Reid!”

Reid woke up gasping for air. Frantically looking around for y/n before his eyes adjusted to the dim light of tv. When his eyes finally landed in y/n he pulled her into him. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah of course, are you?” Reid doesn’t let go of y/n until he’s sure he’s not still stuck in his nightmare or worse that this wasn’t another hallucination and he’s back in that cemetery. He grabs y/ns face and and she grabs his hands to keep them there. Want info hun to be able to calm down. And there staring at his best friend he begins to be able to slow his breathing. Grounding himself back in reality.

“I—uhm I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Reid says as he lets go of y/n trying to fix his hair.

“Nothing is wrong with you. Wait here.” Y/n leaves Reid’s room and quickly comes back with a cup of ice water. “I would make tea but I don’t think you keep any here.” Reid smiled at her

“Could you lay with me?” Y/n was silent not because she didn’t want to, she did. But she almost felt like Reid was mistaking his feelings for something he didn’t really feel about her. Still, she nodded.

“I have some extra clothes if you need any?”

“O-okay.”

Y/n hesitated putting on one of his shirts. But resigned on one of the few tshirts he had that definitely was too big for him making even more oversized on her. She was careful getting under the covers, while Reid was trying to catch his breath. Something about seeing y/n in his clothes made him feel, he wasn’t sure, normal? Like that was the way it was supposed to be.

For a second they just faced one another both unable to tell the other what they get towards eachother. Y/n tentatively reached her hand up towards his face again before pulling it back, she couldn’t expect him to figure out his feelings towards yet if she was going to continue to make things difficult. Reid felt guilty, he didn’t want y/n to stay with him out of pity.

“Is this okay? I mean—if you really need to leave.”

“Trust me Spencer, I don’t want to go anywhere. It’s just—I’m just glad you’re back.”

Reid just smiled at her. They both fell asleep shortly after but it wasn’t long before Reid began struggling again squirming in bed and moaning and almost sobbing as if he was in pain. Y/n tried to shake him awake but nothing was stirring him from the nightmare.

Y/n began to panic, her voice getting louder as she began to scream his name to get try and snap him out of it. Not knowing what else to do she pulled him into her shushing him and just trying to calm him down. Reid’s yes eventually shot open and he pulled himself up looking down at y/n and trying to calm his panic. Y/n just continued to let him calm down but made sure to hold his hand to let him she was there for him. He slumped against the back of his bed,

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Y/n asked

His body responded by turning towards y/n and pulling her into him. She realized he was only half awake, and she turned to her side and let him spoon her. She felt guilty but she loved being wrapped up in Reids arms. She thought about how scared he must be to be so desperate for touch, that was not the Reid she knew. Reid began waking up and realizing where he was and immediately worried he had gone to far.  She seemed to relax her head into his arm and it encouraged him to bring her closer to him and bury his face into her hair.

Y/n could tell he was still having trouble really falling asleep but everytime he would wake he would just squeeze her a little harder. It was around 5am before he finally truly fell asleep. Y/n heard the small vibrating of his phone from the other room.

You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought. She also knew how seriously he took his job, she carefully snuck bb out of bed making sure not to stir him from his sleep.

She found his phone on the couch, the caller ID ringing Hotch.

She sighed before picking up, “Does he absolutely have to go on another case right now?”

It was silent only for a second but even y/n could tell Hitch was surprised Reid wasn’t alone, “just checking in to see how he’s doing maam.”

Y/n laughed “well he quite literally has just been able to fall asleep…he’s been better.”

Hotch sighed, “I figured as much, thank you for staying with him.”

“Thanks for finding him.”

Hotch could hear the genuine concern in her voice, Reid was the youngest and they often worried how the job affected him. The two hung up, a Hotch making sure he had her number as well to check in without bothering Reid. Both understanding Reid was a bit too fragile to have people doubt his abilities at work.

Y/n decided to stay up and make the two of them coffee and some breakfast. Well as decent of a breakfast as she could make with what little Reid had. Reid woke up as she was finishing, his guilt threatening to take over again. He was more motivated by his emotions something that up until recently, he made sure to not over take his logic. But after Tobias everything seemed so…different. His priorities shifted. How could he explain how he felt towards her, and would she feel the same or feel forced to be with him after all that’s happened? He thought about last night, and he could only hope she hadn’t felt that way then.

Y/n turned around startled to see Reid deep in thought, “Jesus Spencer, a little warning would be nice.”

“Sorry!”

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhm. Just still waking up.”

“Okay. Well, breakfast is ready. You really need to get some actual food besides eggs and bread. But I did manage to find some bacon in the freezer.”

“Yeah, I’m just not around long enough.”

Y/n got quiet. That was the problem wasn’t it? God she hated his job sometimes,

“That reminds me. Hotch called.”

“Already? Do I need to head out?”

“No don’t worry, he was just worried about you. Asking if you got some sleep.”

“Great. I’ll probably get babysat like Elle did.”

“Well, do you blame him. The whole team loves you. You guys are family. Besides i made sure he wouldn’t call until the end of the weekend. So you’re safe.” She smiled at him and handed him a plate. Reid chuckled and set the plate down before embracing her. She didn’t hesitate to return his hug and wrapped her arms around his neck, it was funny to her how easy it was to be around him.

“Thanks for saving me.”

“I highly doubt delaying a phone call counts as saving you.”

“No you saved me I think more than you’ll ever know.”

Before she could question what he meant Reid pressed his lips against her. The two melting into eachother. It was the most unReid like thing he could do. And neither of them could get enough. They had both been holding in their feelings for what seemed like too long, and after Reid’s brush with death he had promised himself he wouldn’t waste another moment. Especially last night after she had done what he couldn’t with the dilaudid. She wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t care right?

The two didn’t pull away until they absolutely had to, and when they the two, now breathless and panting for air just rested their foreheads against eachother.

“Remind me to keep people from calling you, if you’re going to do that everytime.” Y/n laughed

“You—that-uhm. Was that okay?”

“I did kiss you back, didn’t I?” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “come on let’s eat. You can keep resting once you’re done.”

[spookydrreid]

Chapter Six: Restricted

Pairing: Unsub!Reid x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: talks of death, JJ slander, abdication talk, prison!reid talks, use of the term ‘daddy’ and ‘little one’, spencer being soft, illusions to death, illusions to sex, needy!reader. [let me know if i missed anything!]

Word Count: 1.3k

[Series Master list] - [Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

…

I looked at my watch, then around to see if I could see her. She’d been gone for some time but I knew that woman’s lines were usually longer. I debated on going to look for her, fear bubbling in my stomach. I can’t explain it, but I feel like something is wrong. I want to believe that it is just paranoia, and those fears don’t quiet when our eyes meet.

She looks like she’s seen a ghost, her body stiffen with fear. I feel a chill lick up my spine when I catch a glimpse of the blonde watching her walk off. I know who it is and I know what she wants. I can only hope my pet said nothing. They have her face, not her name. I stare Jennifer down, eyes occasionally flickering down to my sweet angel. She looks terrified.

“W-we gotta… I want to go,” she mutters as she reaches me. She decides to hope into the front seat, buckling and waiting for me.

I work quickly to secure everything before climbing out to get in my seat. I took one last look in the direction JJ stood. Her black coat long and her hands in the pockets. She nodded at me before turning and heading off. I felt the bile rise in my throat.

I slam the door, “what did she say to you?” I want to comfort her, I swear I do. But I am terrified she gave her name or told JJ anything about us. About me.

She waits for a beat and I can feel my heart racing, “nothing.”

I didn’t believe her. I know I should, but the look on her face as she walked towards me told me different. “You’re lying.” My jaw clenched as I started the car and pulled onto the dirt road.

She shook her head, “I’m not. She bumped into me and I dropped my phone. She started apologizing, and when I stood up she just looked at me.”

I sighed a little bit of relief, tension falling from my shoulders for a moment. “That’s all?”

She nodded, “and all I said was ‘Jennifer’ because I was terrified. You say they don’t know me, but, Spencer,” she paused for a moment, looking over at me, “she knew me. She knew exactly who I was.”

Of course she knew who my little pet was. It was that hard to figure out. The cameras were all over her as we ran through the country. They had a sketch of her from the murder at the concert. They just didn’t know her name. Yet.

“Did you tell her your name?”

“No? Spencer, do they know who I am?” I shake my head.

“I didn’t tell them. I didn’t tell them anything. But they know your face.”

She stiffens a little “you didn’t think I needed to know that!”

I can feel the anger sitting on top of my burning anxiety like kindling, threatening to ignite. I didn’t want to blow up on her, but she needed to understand that I was doing this to protect her. Everything I did was in her best interest.

“No. I didn’t. I figured you were smart enough to know that.” I sigh, “did you forget that I murdered two fucking people at a music festival? There were thousands of people around.”

I can see the wheels turning in her head. The internal struggle of being mad at me or being proud of me, waging a war in her mind. She had to know that I didn’t mean for them to meet. I never meant for my poison to infect her. She was pure in my mind, she always will be. And, technically, in the eyes of the law, she’s nothing but an accessory. Her prison sentence could be short; non-existent if she testifies against me. I knew she wouldn’t. I knew she didn’t have the guts to look me in the face and hang me.

“I didn’t forget, Spencer. It’s hard to forget watching life drain from a persons face.” I watch her fight the smirk that threatens to stretch her face. Murder excites her, the same way it excites me. She loves the rush that comes with watching life fade from their eyes.

“Okay. They interviewed them. They have sketches of your face. Cameras caught your features when we drove through tolls. But without your name, they have nothing.” I couldn’t help but wonder why they still didn’t know her. Penelope Garcia was the backbone of the team and she could find anyone. I wondered if she was holding out to protect me. Did she know that Y/N has a case of Stockholm and taking her from me would be bad? It’s possible.

Penelope had limits, morals, all the things that you are not supposed to have when you start working for the FBI. She’d gotten better over the years, growing numb to the violence and terror that filled her screen. We were close. She was one of the only people who understood me on the team. Her brains just as hefty as mine. She listened to me, made me smile in my darkest moments. Didn’t judge me when I threw a book at a window.

So, I wondered if she was protecting me. She’d done it so many times before and I couldn’t stop my thoughts from wondering if she was doing that now. I didn’t know. I may never know. Penelope was one of the only people I didn’t want revenge on. She didn’t know about my addiction, she tried to help me with the PTSD from prison. She saved me after being kidnapped. If anything, I owed her my fucking life.

…

She showered right when we got home. Claiming she needed time alone. I gave it to her. I needed it too. I needed to think. I needed to find a way to get out of the country. I knew it wouldn’t be that hard. While I was accused, I was let go. So it’s not like I had any reason to be afraid they wouldn’t let me leave.

“Spencer?” I look up at the soft voice. My pet in one of my shirts and not much else. She looks sad, a frown on her face and her hair wet from her shower. She was beautiful like this, bare and vulnerable. It made my heart race.

I opened my arms for her. I wanted to hold her and tell her how much I loved her; assure her that everything will be okay. That we would never hit that metaphorical wall. She plays with her hands as she walks towards me, sitting sideways in my lap and resting her head on my chest.

“How was your shower?” I ask just as softly. Her milk and honey scent filling my senses. Her skin is soft, glistening from her care. I want to hold her like this for the rest of our lives. But I cant. We had work to do.

“Not as warm without you” she purrs as she nuzzles into me. She’s needy.

I laugh a little “you’re the one who needed to be alone.” She presses herself closer to me, pressing her body into mine.

“She made me feel weird. She asked me if I was okay and if I needed help.” She hides her face in my chest. My hand cradles her head, massaging her scalp as I rock her. “I just told her no. That I was safe. But it looked like she didn’t believe me.”

“She just doesn’t understand, pup. She doesn’t get how we function. None of them do.” It was true. They didn’t get why she would stay with a killer.

“Don’t leave me. Please don’t abandon me, daddy. I’ll be so good and I’ll do whatever you say. I promise.” There it was. The fear. I wondered when this was going to happen. JJ put in her head doubt and fear without saying much of anything.

“I wont leave you. There isn’t anything that can take you away from me, little one. It will always be you, my pet.” I heard her sniffle a little and my heart physically ached for her. We both knew one wrong move and that promise could be broken. She shifted in my grasp, moving so she straddled my hips.

She looked up at me with red, puffy eyes and chapped lips. Submission clouding her mind, “kiss me? Prove to me how much you want me. Pretty please.”

...

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[boldlyvoid]

Of Quartz I Will

Amethyst You So Much✨ Part 2: Of Quartz I Will

Summary: after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Warnings: fluff, gun violence, shooting tw, Reid's season 5 knee injury, hurt/comfort, emotional smut, body massage, hand jobs, riding, penetrative sex.

word count: 6K

Spencer notices her as she walks in, through the briefing room window, she’s wearing his purple shirt. He wanted to wear that for work today but couldn’t find it anywhere, now he knows why.

“Excuse me,” he says to his group of teammates as they contribute reading case files.

“Hey,” Spencer grabs her attention from the railing beside the briefing room. “I’ve been looking for that shirt everywhere.”

“It’s mine now,” she smiles, setting her things down at her desk for the night. “I’ll buy you a new purple dress shirt.”

“Buy yourself one, I like that one,” he whines.

“Finders keepers, doctor Reid. Either stop leaving your shit on my bedroom floor or move in already.”

Everyone hears it. All eyes are on them as they bicker in the middle of the bullpen, including the team of profilers just beyond the window.

“Okay,” he agrees. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She climbs the stairs quickly, giving him a good morning hug even though it was 9pm. “I love you, that’s why I’m wearing your shirt.”

He smiles against her shoulder as he holds her, “I love you, more so in my shirt.”

When he sits back down at his chair at the round table, everyone is waiting with a raised brow. They want details, they want his opinion, they want to hear him stutter and see him blush like he used to. But he doesn’t.

“Yes, I will be moving in with her. We have people to save,” Spencer reminded them. Avoiding eye contact and flipping through the files.

Derek tugs on his amethyst bracelet, he hasn’t taken it off since he got it, almost 2 years ago. “Are you ever going to get her any other jewellery?”

“When she goes home I’ll show you,” he whispers, still avoiding eye contact as they all gasp. “Keep it cool or I will kill you.”

He keeps an eye on her at her desk, smiling when she looks up to see him. She blows him a kiss and waves softly a few times, but other than that, they don’t talk for the rest of the day.

—

The next time She sees him, he’s in her bed sound asleep as she’s coming home from work. She sits on the edge of the bed and brushes his hair away from his face to wake him up gently, he blinks into the morning sunlight to see her.

“Good morning,” he smiles.

She’s in his pink shirt today. She liked to keep something of his close on bad cases that take him out of town. In this case, out of the country. He was in Canada for a few days, the case was horrific and she had to deal with all the office work in Penelope’s absence.

“Amethyst,” she whispers, it was part of their secret code.

Spencer, being a cunning linguist, he loved anagrams.

They had Amethyst for I miss you, Quartz for of course, and Olive for I love you. It was easier to keep the PDA to a minimum at work, not wanting to sit in a seminar like Derek and Penny about sexual misconduct and hostile work environments.

“Olive,” Spencer replies, pulling her down into the bed so she can cuddle in.

“We can’t stay, there’s another case. JJ told me to bring you in on my way home,” she explains softly. “They need you to go to ER Doctor Barton’s house, in McLean, he got a note saying someone was going to kill his son. So far they’ve also connected him to a few surrogate kills of Hispanic men, they need the speed reader to go through all his recent surgeries.”

He sighs, holding her tightly and snuggling in against her back, “no.”

She laughs, “Spencer, you can read really fast and the faster you read the faster you can come home to me.”

“Fine,” she has perfect logic, he always tells her that. “Are you driving me to the guy's house?”

“Yep, so we can stop for coffee and talk in the car, I really did miss you a lot,” she struggles out of his grasp to turn and face him, opting to hold his face in her hands as she looks at him. He’s exhausted, just like her.

“I missed you too, I’m sorry I was gone so long,” his voice is barely a whisper, “We should take a day off together soon.”

“Yeah,” she smiles wider, completely in love with him. “I’d really like that, maybe we can look at apartments?”

“Apartments?” He repeats the word with a grin, raising his eyebrow softly. “I thought you liked it here?”

“It’s too small, I want to get a cat, if you’re bringing your closet here we’re going to need a bigger one,” she ranted. “And actually, I was thinking if you’re on the same page as me and this is a long-term thing for you too, what if we just got a bigger place and got a mortgage and start a little life outside the FBI, together?”

He’s so in love with her, “get my bag?” Is all he can say.

“What?” She’s so confused, shaking her head softly as she comprehends it.

“On the floor there, grab my bag, please there’s something for you in there,” he points behind her, trapped under her and the blanker so it’s not like he could get it himself.

She gets up, placing the bag on the bed for him as she watches him dig through it for a little box. “Arminius helped me pick this out.”

He had become best friends with the owner of the rock shop, she wasn’t surprised to hear that he had gotten something else from there for him. It made her giggle with excitement, bouncing softly as Spencer sat up and moved his bag out of the way.

But then he got out of bed, he’s in a pair of purple boxers and his hair is a mess and he’s so nervous and she has no idea why until he gets down on one knee.

“I was waiting to do this.”

“Holy shit.”

He nods with a shaky laugh, “yeah, I’m in it long term if you are?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to drive you to work now?” She laughs, unable to stop smiling as the two of them stare hopelessly at each other. She hasn’t even looked at the ring yet, too occupied with the wonderfully happy look on his face.

“Quartz,” is all she can say, flabbergasted as she keeps laughing with a shocked smile.

He takes it from the box and she watches as he slides the most beautiful purple Amethyst ring over her ring finger and then her hands are back on his cheeks. Pulling him into a kiss, she can’t seem to hold him close enough as she breathes in. Holding her breath as she keeps him there.

He pulls away with a laugh, “when are we supposed to be there?”

“Now.”

“Damn,” they’re all giggles.

And it doesn’t stop, she takes off Spencer’s shirt and he puts it on instead, matching it with a vest and a tie while she makes him a coffee and can’t stop smiling as she glances at the ring.

It really only made sense for their engagement to happen in the same place she fell in love with him.

Sure, she liked him a lot when he was getting her rocks and she really wanted to get to know him more after his last note, but it was the bracelet that made her fall in love. He went out of his way to make her smile on what felt like the worst day of her life, and she knew she wanted forever with him from then on out. Now she was going to get it, she was going to be Agent Y/N Reid, and her ring was absolutely perfect.

He catches her taking photos of it in the sunshine when he comes out of the bedroom. She still can’t stop smiling, it’s just so perfect and she’s just so in love with him.

They get muffins from the bakery under her apartment before getting in her car, “where is it?” Spencer asks, playing the role of GPS whenever they drove together.

“120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia,” she members it clearly.

“Take a right,” Spencer smiles, and she’s off.

She drives with one hand, looking at her ring almost more than the road as Spencer held her other one. She pulled up to the Doctor’s house and he didn’t want to leave. Sighing, he looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

“I will see you when you get home, I’m going to call out after this case is done and you get mandatory 24 hours off for back-to-back cases,” she said, knowing protocol almost better than him. “Go to work.”

“Fine,” he frowns again, getting out of the car and walking around to her door. She rolls the window down and tilts her chin up, leaning out for the kiss he’s waiting to give her.

“Let me know when you’re done, I can come and pick you back up,” she whispers against his lips between kisses.

One last smooch and he pulls away, backing up so he isn’t tempted to stay any longer, “olive.”

“Olive,” she replies with a smile, waving slightly before he disappears behind the door.

She releases a long sigh, melting into the chair as she lets the butterflies swarm around a bit in her stomach, it felt wonderful.

She went home, napped from 10 till 2 and then sat in bed to stare at her beautiful ring for a little while. She couldn’t believe he proposed just like that. All she asked was if he wanted to get a mortgage on a house and she guesses he heard "spend the rest of your life with me."

Sometimes, when Spencer was on a case in Virginia and too busy to keep her updated, she would turn on the police radio and listen to what was going on around in the area. It was good to keep her mind preoccupied and to remind herself that he was safe.

At least that’s what it used to do.

“Shots fired at 120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia, 10-999, 11-41, all units in the area are requested.”

“10-999, officer down, 11-41, send ambulances,” she whispers to herself, remembering all the dispatch lingo from the office.

She doesn’t have time to panic, she unlocks her safe and grabs her gun, loading it and then she’s out the door, in her car and pulling up behind the sheriff's car as she’s running out.

She tosses her badge up to show the cops as she tries to run onto the scene, “I’m an FBI agent on his team, let me through!”

She slides her knees along the grass, surely ruining her jeans as she dives for him. She places a hand on his bloody knee and looks everywhere else, “are you okay? Are you good? Holy shit, Spence?”

Her breathing is so heavy, she clutches her chest with her left hand and tries to calm down as he looks up at her and they breathe in and out a few times without breaking eye contact. He’s completely fine, there’s just a bullet in his knee, he assures her.

“I’m fine,” he laughs lightly, wincing at the pain as he leans forward to kiss her gently.

She’s there only 2 minutes before Derek, JJ and Rossi are pulling up on the scene. Everyone huddled around them on the grass as the EMTs bandaged his knee up before taking him to the ambulance.

“You need to call Emily,” Spencer speaks over everyone, “something happened to Hotch, I’m fine here with Y/N, just go see him.”

He was always going to be fine with her, that was for sure. She never left his side, except when they took him in for surgery and forced her back into the waiting room. But as soon as he was okay again, his hand was in hers.

—

He was given a month off after his knee surgery, but he still ended up in the office most nights. Becoming more of a night owl than usual as he accompanied his fiancé to her desk and sat beside her as she did her work. It was really nice to spend time with her and not have to do anything.

Of course, he filled his time by going over other case files, things they weren’t able to get to as a team and things that didn’t fit the criteria of the BAU. He made phone calls and sent emails, helping small-town cops make simple connections and doing more good that way.

He sat at her desk, his leg resting over her lap as she made a few phone calls. Handing the background of the cases, filing off invoices and approvals. Dispatching units and requesting files and overrides from other departments. She was amazing.

She hangs up the phone, finally, after 45 minutes of rolling her eyes and sighing as she was transferred from office to office all around America. She places her hand on his leg and absentmindedly runs her hand along his shin, staring off at the desk, silently.

“Are you okay?”

She nods, “do you think you’re healed enough to start looking at places?”

He nods back, “actually, I already found one. Hold on,” he slides his leg off her lap and stands with his crutches, hobbling over to his desk where he looks through his files for a new folder.

When he comes back to her, he places the folder in her hands, “forever homes,” is listed on the tag and he sees her heart melt in her eyes. She opens the folder as he sits down, there are about 15 pages of house and apartment listings printed off.

“When did you do all this?” She whispered, shocked and not wanting to cry at work.

“Before I got shot, I was on the phone with Penelope and I asked her to help me find some, she printed off like 50 and I selected the good ones, but there’s more if you don’t like an-“

“Babe,” she cut the rant short, “I’m sure I’ll love any of them, as long as they come with you.”

He pulls a specific sheet from the pile, “this one is my favourite.”

She can see why, it’s a large, green exterior, Victorian home. There’s a turret and a porch, large windows with a bench seat in the kitchen. A garage, 4 bedrooms, a finished basement, a study and a pretty nice backyard.

“It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but Derek said he’s willing to help teach me how to fix some stuff,” Spencer pressed his lips together awkwardly. He really wanted this on.

“Let’s get a Realtor and set up a walk-through,” she agreed, “and we should bring Derek because he’ll know more than most inspectors anyway. I don’t want to get a place with a cracked foundation or a faulty water heater.”

He smiled again, “remember last week when I had that extra appointment?”

She tilted her head, “no, there is no way you’ve already been there to check it out without me.”

“And I put an offer in, but I was waiting for your approval,” he adds, nervous for her to hate it.

“With what money? I thought we were doing this together?” He’s not sure why she’s upset, normally she loves his surprises.

“When I sold my moms house, I invested the money and it’s been gaining interest for years now,” his voice is soft, “I got through college with scholarships and if I was ever down on money I just had to go to one casino and I always leave with two grand, minimum, I promise, I’m really in this for the long run. I know what I'm doing.”

She smiles, picking up the listing and calling the agency. “Hi this is Y/N Y/L/N calling, my fiancé, Doctor Spencer Reid, recently put an offer in on the listing for 247 Chestnut Drive, I’d love to come and see it soon and take some measurements and things. If you could call me back…”

Spencer is so in love with her it hurts. He wants to scream right then and there, like a kettle on a hot stove for too long, he’s bursting at the seams. She hangs up the phone with the best smile he’s ever seen, “I’m going home early, cause I’m sick, care to join me?”

She stands then, putting her hand out for him so he could stand with her help. “Quartz,” he replies, taking her hand and stands, she gathers their things and she clocks out. No one really cared about all her sick days, she did her job well and they wanted the good doctor to be taken care of.

When he finally gets to show her the inside of the house, she is so in love with it. The hardwood is all original, same with the railings, shelves, banisters and countertops. They're all rustic and beautiful, she can’t help but run her finger over everything as she looks around with an open mouth. X

The kitchen cabinets are green, there is a beautiful colourful wallpaper as a backsplash… and it’s completely empty. It was a remodel, some house flippers did it up and didn’t want to stay. It was made more modern, updated appliances and every safety protocol met. It was perfect.

She turned to him with a smile after only 5 minutes of looking, “this is it.”

“Good,” the women showing them around said, “because your offer was approved, with your say so I can get everything started with escrow.”

“Holy shit!” Y/N cheered, jumping a bit and showing off while Spencer just leaned on his crutch. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek a few times.

“You can start that paperwork,” Spencer smiled, holding her back with his face in the crook of her neck.

—

The hardest part of moving is transporting all of Spencer’s books from one home to another. It's at least 30 boxes of books and Derek will be faxing his chiropractor bill to Spencer within the week.

His office here was huge, floor-to-ceiling oak shelves and green walls, full of all his books and belongings now. It was his own space in the house he shared with his future wife.

It felt crazy to him.

She used to just be the cute girl in the office, he can remember the exact moment he laid eyes on her. She was walking around aimlessly with some files in her hands when he turned around at his desk. She looked lost, overwhelmed and like she was about to have a breakdown.

She looked at him with the same fear he felt on his first day, he took the file from her and knew exactly where it was meant to go. She followed behind him, quiet as a mouse as he placed it in a folder by the wall under a sign that said "Anderson."

He turned with a press-lipped smile and a nod and then they went their separate ways. Silent conversations became their thing, the only time he really heard her voice was when she called him in in the middle of the night or when he heard her on the phone.

Other than that; she smiled when they passed each other, she’d tap her watch when he needed to be doing something Hotch asked for and was preoccupied with something else, she even knew exactly what he was looking for by just observing his chaos. Always able to pull a sheet of paper from the bottom of the stack with ease, and always silently, until that one day she said sorry to him after slamming the phone.

Now he knows that she talks in her sleep, she likes to go over her plans out loud in the shower every morning, and she sings all day long. Be it little tunes, hums, random tongue clicks or whistling, she’s always making noise. His favourite, however, was when sometimes she’d remember something she was trying to remember during a conversation they had, 4 days prior, and she’d scream it out like he knows what she’s thinking every second of every day.

He was in love with her voice, he never wanted to stop hearing it.

He was in love with her face, he never wanted to stop seeing it.

He was in love with her body, he never wanted to stop touching it.

He was in love with her mind, he never wanted to stop exploring it.

All those thoughts rushing to his brain and rushing a new form of butterflies for him. Like anxiety, but happier. Like he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. It was anticipation rather than fear.

She really was it for him, and as he unboxed his life into the house they were about to share for the upcoming future, it all became very real. This was how the rest of his forever was going to look with her. All their memories from here on out were going to take place in this house, in these rooms.

When he picked this house, it was just a fun idea, and now he looks at the hardwood floors and thinks about how wet baby feet are going to sound during bath time. He wonders how many times the creaky steps are going to let him know she’s coming up to bed, he wonders what screaming matches and fights and love-making will happen beyond the bedroom door across from his study.

He wonders if she’s going to love him as long as he wants to love her.

He opens his study door then, “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” She calls up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Can you come up here?”

She marches up the stairs, still not used to the creaky staircase or the length of stairs she had to climb, soon enough, she’s on the second floor and walking into his study, “what’s up?”

He doesn’t know how to ask, he doesn’t even really know what he wants actually. He just missed her, and she was only just downstairs.

“Can I have a hug?”

It comes out more pathetic than he predicted, cringing at the embarrassment as he shrunk into the couch.

“Quartz,” her voice is soft as she approaches him.

Sitting on the brown leather couch that was once in his apartment, she wraps her arms around him and he holds her back softly.

Resting his head on her shoulder, he just wants to hold her for a while. Eventually, they end up laying down with her on his chest, still holding each other as silent as they were in the beginning.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers against her hair.

She snuggles in more, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder softly, “I love you, too, are you okay?”

He nods softly, “I was just thinking about everything and I wanted to hold you.”

She swoons, “do you remember the first night we cuddled like this?”

He nods again, brushing his chin against her head each time, “it all feels like history repeating like it’s supposed to be this way for us.”

“I like to think so,” she agreed. “I actually think you’re my twin flame.”

He hums, thinking about it, “I’m not sure I know what that means.”

“So soulmates are kind of like mirror souls, they are exactly everything that the other needs and they fill the missing parts for each other." She explains softly and he can already tell where her rant is going.

"I don’t think that’s us because we are too similar; sometimes we butt heads and don’t see eye-to-eye, and you drive me crazy a lot of the time because we have the same anxiety and daddy issues, but it’s also because you do things I think about doing and then I can’t do them because they're done already and they’re my calm down things so then I have nothing to calm down with, like yesterday-“

“Babe,” he whispers, “I know, we finish each other’s sandwiches, that’s what your niece said when she saw us together.”

It makes her smile and he can feel her cheekbone against his chest, “twin flames are what happens when one soul is ripped in half and sent to two bodies. They’re capable of surviving separately, as long as they have the right kindling, but they burn brighter together.”

“People sometimes think fire is living because it consumes and uses energy, requires oxygen, and moves through the environment,” Spencer says softly, “have you ever seen something catch fire on both ends?”

“Yeah, a few times, why?”

“It’s never about burning the item entirely, both fires are only concerned with connecting to each other for mass destruction. They always burn in the strangest patterns, but they always connect first before devouring the victim.”

She sits up to look at him, “are you saying I devoured you?”

“That would be de-flowered,” he teases, “but no, I’m saying it makes sense. We really have been burning through everything to find each other.”

“I cannot believe you just said I de-flowered you before the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said,” she laughs, “and it was a mutual de-flowering, might I remind you.”

“I will never forget,” he coos, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers.

She pushes him back against the couch, it’s been forever since they’ve really done anything. With moving, Spencer’s recovery, her working nights and sleeping all day. It hasn’t been rewarding in a long time, it’s just been enjoyable.

“No,” he whispers as she starts to trail kisses down his neck. “I’m not having sex on the couch the first time we do it in the house.”

She laughs against his neck, pushing herself off the couch and extending a hand to him, “did the doctor even say you can yet?”

“I can’t do all the work, but I can give a second opinion?” He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as she hauled him to his feet.

“Let me heal you,” she whispers, and he knows exactly what she means.

She lays him down on their bed, on top of the covers with no clothes on as she gathers her things. She closes the blinds, turns on her amber lamp, and lights her candles. But his favourite thing that she adds is the sound therapy… helping the water in his body vibrate at the right frequency to calm him completely. She’s going all out for this one.

Much like the first time.

She’s naked too, both of them completely unfazed by each other’s naked form by now. She sits between his legs with all her chakra stones in her hands and she sets them down on his stomach before arranging them in order where they’re supposed to help on his body.

The Amethyst is just above his head for his crown chakra, touching his scalp gently. He closes his eyes as she places a Lapis Lazuli on his third eye, in the centre of his forehead. An Aquamarine on his throat. Rose Quartz on his heart, Tiger’s Eye on his solar plexus, Pyrite on his belly button and finally, Fire Agate at his core.

He always felt so totally relaxed like this, even the first time she ever laid him down like this. He was so calm, he knew he was in good hands and seeing her bless the room made him feel even better.

“Only good may enter here,” the words she repeats every full moon when she opens the windows and blessed the whole house. Keeping them safe, happy, healthy and loved.

She kissed the scar on his knee, causing him to open his one eye to see her. She was laying between his legs now, head resting on his hip as she lightly ran her fingers over his knee, ticking the skin where he finally had feeling again. It took forever for the numbness to go away, even longer for the pain. But she was so patient with him the whole time, taking the best care of him.

She doesn’t mind that he’s hard, she’s very close to his dick as it rests on his stomach beside the crystal.

She kisses his hip, inching each kiss over until she’s pressing one right to the shaft of his dick and he takes a deep breath. Knowing she’ll stop if he forgets how to do the breathing exercises she showed him. He wasn’t allowed to tense his body, this was about pleasure and there was no rush.

For either of them.

He’s done this for her a few times over the years too, just as slow and sensual as she was being. It was calming, rewarding, they bonded with each other and really felt like one being this way.

He heard a cap open, but he was so used to it by now that it filled him with contentment rather than excitement. He remembers the first time she said she wanted to do this, getting some skin-safe, homemade, vegan massage lube and almost turning inside out with how awkward she was asking to do this for their first time.

She sat on her knees between his legs with a small bounce as she got excited about her favourite part. She sat with the bottle resting between her thighs, warming up while she ran some of it over her hands. She massaged his thighs first, getting all the knots and making sure there was no “Charlie's on any horses”, the first time she said that he almost cried laughing and ruined the mood for a little.

She took the rocks off him then, sitting more on his hips as she drizzled the warm oil on his chest. He let his hands rest on her knees, wanting to feel her skin while she felt his. Her hands felt like magic, running over his chest, arms and shoulders like this was her job. She knew every crook, every cranny, every pressure point and soft tissue on him. His body was just as much her’s now.

It's when she presses her body flat against his that he knows the mood is changing. Her breasts are flat against his chest, her hands are behind his head as she looks down at him, her groin pressed right against him as he aches for contact, grinding up into her slowly as she stares into his eyes.

“Better?” She whispered with a small smile, already feeling how much calmer he was, she just wanted confirmation.

“Much,” he’s just as quiet in his reply. “If I don’t bend that knee, it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t mind doing all the work, baby,” she kisses him quickly, “I know you like it more like this anyway.”

She slithers down his body then, his body slick with oil as she easily glides down and creating the most wonderful amount of friction with him. He groans, tossing his head back against the Amethyst on his scalp.

She sits on his good thigh, avoiding pressure with his bad knee like he was an old man now. She makes contact with the only part she didn’t message, adding more of the massage lube to her hand before lazily jerking him off. He keeps a hand on her thigh, groping and managing her right back as she kept a perfect rhythm.

She occasionally grinds against his thigh, mostly when he moans and groans. Extremely turned on by him having a good time, proud of herself for relaxing him, always complaining that he was too tense, she really knew how to release the pressure.

Just as she gets into it, the calming sounds of rain and high-pitched frequencies come to an end… Rhiannon starts playing and he literally watches her come alive; changing her rhythm to match the beat as she starts to grind against him more, she only added his song to the queue, somehow an hour had passed and her music was resuming.

And when Spencer said she was eclectic, he meant she could go from listening to a rare Canadian band called the Tragically Hip, to Kanye West, Taylor Swift, Evanescence and back to Fleetwood Mac. He had no idea where the mood was about to go.

He moved his hand up her thigh as he tried to power through the pleasure, her hand was so amazing he was bubbling away under his skin. He manages to get his middle finger between his leg and her, massaging her clit as she bucked her hips down on him.

Mutual pleasure in any sense was enough for them, seeing the other being perfectly content after everything they went through; it was euphoric. She leans up then and kisses him desperately, unable to stop stroking him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.

She smiles against his mouth as the song changes again, it’s the song from the ending of Dirty Dancing, he knows how much she loves that movie. Her kisses get softer, she’s so gentle as she strokes him just a few more times before throwing a leg over his hips and lowering herself onto him in one go. Bottoming out faster than before, both of them making the same moan as they curled forward for each other, mouths clashing as they held onto each other.

Grinding together, Spencer kept a hand on her to help her ride as she was preoccupied with her hands in his hair and kissing his neck as they moved in tandem. It was so good, he was incredibly close but he wanted to hold off as long as possible to feel her finish first.

His ultimate pleasure was knowing she was pleasured, he massaged her clit once more between their bodies and she shuttered, “right there,” her words are small as she kisses under his ear, tugging his hair softly as he moans so she can lick at his neck as she moves her hips up and down, gloriously.

He can’t keep his eyes open, everything is too much and he’s so relaxed; it’s like his body is floating on a cloud as she rides him like they’re actually in heaven. He was really having the time of his life and it made him smile at the end of the whimper he released as she tightened around him suddenly and on purpose.

She moves faster, and so does his wrist as he helps her over the edge first. She’s panting in his ear as she rides him with purpose. She cums with a gasp and then he’s gone, her whole body stuttering as she let out the most relaxed and uncontrollable moan he’s ever heard from her.

His grip on her ass tightens as he holds her hips down, he cums with a gasp and it’s so powerful he passes out.

—

He’s so cute when he sleeps.

She’s got him all cleaned up, everything put away and where it’s supposed to be in their new room. She just lays beside him as she watches him nap, blissed out and relaxed, she doesn’t even care that it’s such a typical guy thing to fall asleep right after.

That was kind of her mission.

He’s been so stressed, he wasn’t going to tell her because he didn’t want his stress to become her stress like it so often did. Feeding off each other like a fire, he really knew how to give a phrase to a feeling. But he was stressed because he was in pain from his knee and no matter how much he lied and said he was fine, she knew he wanted to relieve the pain but he was afraid of even taking a Tylenol.

This is the most relaxed he’s been in months.

She ordered a pizza while he was asleep, it arrived before he woke up too. She sets the pizza box, 2 bottles of pop and a roll of napkins at the end of the bed, gently, before getting back into her spot.

She brushed his hair from his face and kissed the tip of his nose gently, seeing him scrunch his face and swallow before blinking awake. She smiled at him, “Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“I ordered pizza,” she whispers.

“Olive,” he replies.

“Well yeah,” it makes her giggle but she has to say it, “I got our regular green olives, mushrooms and extra cheese.”

He laughs too, extra happy after both the sex and his nap. “I love you,” he says the full thing this time.

She presses another kiss to his lips before hauling him into a sitting position, “I love you, too.”

It’s the best night of her life so far.

the house

Taglist: @dreatine for inspiring a part 2 <3

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

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

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

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

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

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

wordcount: 2.3k 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know that,” you spat out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope you’re right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs. 

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

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

“No, I haven’t.” 

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

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

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

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Noted.” 

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

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

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

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

[fayemarvels]

Please come pick him up

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: After a hard case, Spencer and the team go get drunk to forget about it. Spencer gets drunk and this leads to (Y/N) accidentally meeting Derek.

Warnings: mentions of death, murder, unsub, consumption of alcohol – not specified, 1 sexual joke, / please inform me if I missed something

Word count: 2k

! Please don't repost my work anywhere without my permission. Thank you!

My masterlist : *******

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Spencer and (Y/N) have been dating for 9 months. Everything was going great, they met each other’s parents and Spencer even met (Y/N)’s parents. But she still hasn’t met his. It wasn’t because he was ashamed or embarrassed by her.

He just knew the team would make a huge deal about it, and would probably embarrass him or make a huge deal out of it. He knew he would have to introduce them eventually. But for now, he wanted to keep the relationship a secret from the team.

(Y/N) knew the reasons as to why she didn’t meet the team, and she was okay with it. He wanted to introduce them on his own terms, but he didn’t think she would meet them because of his alcohol intolerance.

It was 1 am and (Y/N) was waiting for Spencer to come home. He and his team went out to get their minds of the latest case in California. It was physically and mentally very draining. It took them 4 weeks to catch the unsub, who killed 9 people before they got to him. And as usual, everyone on the team blamed themselves just a little, for all the lives that were lost, especially Spencer. Scratch that, Spencer fully blamed himself for the killings, and it broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“I should’ve known where he was hiding, it was on the geological profile and I glanced over it! They would still be alive if I saw it sooner.” Spencer was sitting on the ground with his back to the couch sobbing. His hands were tugging at his hair, his eyes full of tears, his cheeks red and blotchy and he tried to catch his breath.

“Bub, please don’t do this to yourself,” (Y/N) begged as she tried to get his hands out of his hair. She took him into her arms and he leaned against her.

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” she tried to calm him down. He put his face into the crook of her neck and breathed in her scent. His breath started to calm down and his eyes started to close.

“Bub, we have to get to the bed, your back will hurt if we sleep here” She slowly walked him into his bedroom and helped him into his pajamas. When they flopped onto the bed, Spencer immediately laid his head on (Y/N)’s chest and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Goodnight bub, it’s gonna be better tomorrow, I promise.” She whispered and ran her fingers through his hair. He fell asleep quickly that night.

Originally, Spencer didn’t want to go to the bar with his friends, but (Y/N) persuaded him. She said it would be good for his mind, to get his mind off the case.

She dropped him off in front of the bar and kissed his cheek.

“Call me when you want to go home, have fun, get your mind off the case, don’t drink too much please, your head hurts when you are hangover.” He nodded and got out of the car.

“I’ll call you, Love you bye,” he said and walked into the bar.

He came to the bar at around 9 pm. Penelope, Emily, and Derek were already there and they saved him a place in the booth. They talked about work, personal lives, and the rest of the team. Rossi and JJ came at around 10 pm and Hotch came 15 minutes after them. The alcohol started coming their way, and Derek persuaded Spencer to drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 hours later, Spencer couldn’t stand on his own properly. He was really tired and wanted to go home and cuddle with his love.

“Okay pretty boy, I think that’s enough for you,” Derek said and Spencer shook his head.

“Noooo I want some more, she told me to have fun,” Spencer whined and Derek looked at him confused,

“Sorry pretty boy, but we need to get you home, you said you have someone who will pick you up, give me your phone, I will call.” Spencer pouted and mumbled,

“I want to go home, she will be worried, I told her I won’t drink.” Everyone looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Her? Who is her? You have a girlfriend we don’t know of?” Derek teased and Spencer nodded dreamily.

”Yeah, her name is (Y/N) she is the most beautiful person in the whole world. She is my ride home, call her.” he instructed and Derek rolled his eyes.

He fished out Spencer’s phone from his back pocket and dialed the contact with the name “My (Y/N)”

“Hey love, everything alright?” he heard a cheery voice from the other end and he chuckled.

“Hey, this is Derek Morgan, Spencer is very drunk and he says that you are his ride home, can you come to pick him up please?”

“Um, sure yeah I’ll be there in about 10 minutes, bye.” She said and ended the call.

“So, pretty boy, tell me about this girlfriend of yours.” Derek teased and Spencer grumbled.

“I won’t tell you anything, you will make fun of me”

“I won’t, I promise, I just want to know everything.” Derek tried to get any information out of him, but Spencer didn’t budge.

“No, if I told you anything, I would regret it tomorrow.” Spencer shook his head and Derek shrugged his shoulders.

“Ok, but just now, I will get it out of you.”

Just as he finished his sentence, a car pulled up next to them.

“Hey lover,” The woman in the car called out to Spencer and his eyes widened in happiness.

“My honeybun, you are here,” he slurred and (Y/N) laughed in embarrassment. She got out of the car and walked towards Spencer.

“Well hello,” Derek greeted and she smiled at him.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N), it’s pleasure to finally meet you, ” she shook his hand.

”I would like to say the same but considering I just learned about your existence, I would be lying.” He glared at Spencer and the genius wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s shoulders from behind.

“I missed you so, so much, honeybun” he mumbled.

“I missed you too Bon Bon,” she teased and he glared at her. He always called the weirdest nicknames when he was drunk, and she loved it.

“Okay lover, let’s get you to bed,” she said to Spencer and he wiggled his eyebrows and she smacked his forehead very lightly.

“Not like that you idiot,” she shook her head and his shoulders sagged.

“Come onnnn,” he whined and she started to push him towards the car. When she finally stuffed his long body into the car, she turned to talk to Derek.

“Thank you so much for calling me, do you need a ride home?” she asked him and he just waved his hand.

“No, I have a ride, thanks for asking though.” She nodded and thanked him once again.

They said their goodbyes and (Y/N) sat in the driver’s seat. She turned towards Spencer and saw him passed out with his head against the window. She covered him with her jacket and started the car engine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She drove through the empty streets and listened to the random song on the radio, which played through the car quietly. The bar wasn’t far away from Spencer’s apartment, only about 10 minutes. She pulled up to the parking lot in front of his apartment and turned off the engine.

“Baby wake up, we are at home,” she softly stroked his cheek and he slowly opened his eyes.

“Already?” he asked groggily and she hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, come on, I’ll help you” she got out of the car and went to his side. She opened the door and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Come on, up.” She struggled to get him to stand up, but they finally made it. His limbs were like jelly and didn’t listen to him at all.

“m’ really tired” he whispered and she rubbed his side.

“I know my love, we are nearly there,” she tried to comfort him.

They slowly walked into the building, and towards the elevator. After they stepped in, and Spencer pushed the floor number, she sighed in relief. Her back was killing her, and her arms hurt from holding Spencer’s body weight.

The elevator came to stop and (Y/N) dragged him down the hall towards his apartment. When they got to his door he slumped and she fished out keys from her pocket.

When she finally opened the door he stumbled in and slid down against the wall, and stretched his long legs in front of him. (Y/N) laughed when she saw him and he made grabby hands towards her.

“What is it bub?” she asked and crouched down beside him. He pulled her towards him and she sat on his lap. She moved some hair from his forehead and he kissed the inside of her palm.

“I love you so much, you know that?” he asked and she hummed.

“You told me quite a few times.” She put her forehead on his and pecked his lips softly.

“I love you so, so much.” They stayed like that for a couple of minutes before (Y/N) pulled away.

“Come to bed” she whispered against his lips and he nodded his head. She could see that Spencer sobered up a bit. When she helped him up, he could stand on his own and move quite easily.

They walked into the bathroom first. (Y/N) put some toothpaste on both of their toothbrushes while Spencer pulled out the things each of them needs for their skincare routine.

“Thanks love,” He thanked her when she handed him his toothbrush. They brushed their teeth quietly and occasionally bumped their hips together. When they spit out the toothpaste and flossed their teeth, they did their skincare routine.

They started by washing their faces, put on some cleanser, toner, eye cream, and moisturizer. They put it away and shuffled into the bedroom hand in hand.

“What do you want to sleep in?” (Y/N) asked Spencer, who was already laying in bed, trying very hard not to fall asleep.

“Pajama pants and your pink sweater, you know which one” Spencer replied and (Y/N) threw the clothes at him. He caught them and changed into them.

“Come cuddle me please.” He requested softly and she complied. In her pajamas, she walked towards the bed and slid under the comforter. She opened her arms and Spencer put his head on her chest.

“The headache tomorrow is going to be huge,” he sighed softly and she ran her fingers up and down his back soothingly.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.” She comforted him and he snuggled deeper into her side.

“You know, you have to introduce me to your teammates now that they know I exist.” She teased and Spencer nodded

“I’ve thought about it quite often lately.” He confessed and (Y/N) looked at him shocked.

“You have?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, I want them to know all about the girl I love.” He said and she kissed his cheek in gratitude.

“I can’t wait” she whispered.

“We should sleep, so we can go to the market tomorrow.”

The market thing was their tradition. It started about a month before they officially started dating, back when they were just friends. She membered it like it was yesterday. They were watching doctor who at Spencer’s apartment and she wanted some apples in caramel.

They went out and wandered around quite a bit before they stumbled on the little farmer’s market. It was October and apples were everywhere. It turned out great, (Y/N) got her apples in caramel, and they got a tradition that would last for a very long time.

(Y/N) came back into reality, when she heard a snore come from Spencer. She smiled at the sight of him, looking so peaceful. He looked so beautiful when he slept. All of his facial muscles relaxed, and with his mind at peace.

“Goodnight my love, sweet dreams” she whispered softly, tucked the comforter up to his chin, and kissed his forehead one more time. Her eyelids closed and she drifted off into sleep.

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

I am sorry this took so long, but I have been so busy, we are back in school, homework and everything piled up and I didn’t have time for writing.

Also, thanks for 57 followers, I am so, so happy you are enjoying my work.

I want to write some more one shots around this one ((Y/N) meeting the team, the farmers market tradition origin), would anyone be interested in reading it?

Thanks for reading my work, and if you enjoyed this story, please check out my other work, like, reblog and follow.

If you have any ideas or requests for fanfics, blurbs, or headcanons, you would like me to write, please write me and I will do my best to write it.

Also, would anyone be interested in a permanent taglist? You can let me know

I would really appreciate it if you left some feedback, so if you think I could improve something, please let me know.

-Faye xxx

[spencers-renaissance]

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

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[motherjoel]

hostile (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: after months of trying to get pregnant and a miscarriage, you finally succeed. will you get the chance to tell spencer this time?

a/n: this is my first oneshot in a veryyyy long time so im sorry if im a little rusty! trying to get back into it :) also i know very little about pregnancy so forgive me! (i got the hostile uterus part from greys anatomy lmao)

wc: 2.3k

warnings/includes: lotsa fluff, angst if you squint, criminal minds stuff, pregnancy, miscarriage

-

“Spence, were you even listening in there? I have a hostile uterus. Not only am I feeling incredibly hostile right now, but my uterus?” you yelled as Spencer guided you to your car.

“All I’m suggesting is that we keep trying, Y/N. And I’ve already done plenty of research on adoption and surrogacy, did you know that 140,000 children are adopted by American families each year?” he asked, opening the passengers side door for you and running around to hop in the driver's seat. “And there's always in vitro fertilization,” he suggested as he reached to shut his door and start the car. 

“Of course you wanna keep trying Spence, all you have to do is stick it in and thrust,” you huffed as he winced at your harsh wording, grabbing your hand over the center console. “I’m the one taking hormone shots in my ass and drinking less than 5 cups of coffee a day,” you complained about your attempts at increasing fertility. “Who knew a miscarriage would be the thing to get me to cut down on caffeine.”

Spencer was silent as he drove back to your shared apartment, both of your minds on your struggles to get pregnant in the past year. You thought back to your miscarriage and the impact it had on you both- it had only been a few months since you and Spencer became official. It was new, and this pregnancy was unplanned to say the least. Not telling Spencer about it was the only solution you could think of at the time- until it was too late. 

You remembered the feeling in your chest, your entire body running cold after being tackled by an unsub. You hadn’t told anyone of your pregnancy, not even Spencer, but as the blood ran down your legs it was pretty clear what had just happened. Derek dragged the unsub away in handcuffs as you sat in the open back of the ambulance, a paramedic wrapping your wrist. You barely remembered JJ’s look of pity or Rossi’s concerned gaze. The only thing you remembered was the pale face of your boyfriend as you had been lying on the ground moments before trying to hide the blood. He eventually made his way over to sit next to you after a few minutes of stunned silence.

“Hey, Spence,” you whispered as he sat next to you, the paramedic finishing up and walking away.

“How long?” He looked at your stomach, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

“Three, um, three months,” you fiddled with the bandage on your wrist.

“And you didn’t… you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked, eyes welling up as he finally made eye contact.

“I’m so sorry Spencer, I just, we never talked about kids before and we haven’t been together for too long… I just needed time. To think.”

He nodded and swallowed thickly before softy taking your hand in his, running his finger over the fabric of your bandage.

“You never have to hide something like this from me, y/n. We’re in this together and... not to be um, too forward, but I love you,” he confessed. You knew you loved him, but neither of you had dared say it. “I love you now and I always will, so you can trust me with this kind of thing.”

Since that day, the two of you had only gotten closer. Now, a year into your marriage, you were actively trying. And after months of trying to no avail, a trip to the obstetrician was called for- the obstetrician who called your uterus hostile, which was likely the reason for your first miscarriage. You could barely fall asleep for a few weeks after your obstetrician appointment, which made this early morning case call all the more difficult. The two of you dragged yourselves out of bed and began your morning routine of getting dressed and making coffee, moving in sync with each other as you prepared for the day. It was a quick drive into the office and before you knew it you were sitting in a room full of your coworkers looking at pictures of human remains. 

“Four men killed in Ohio in the past month, each left with a note written in the same handwriting,” Penelope says as you all look at the case file. You normally had an iron stomach- in the BAU, queasiness wasn’t an option. But for the first time in your career, your face turned green at the pictures of dead bodies.

“It says here that they are all men in long-term relationships?” Emily asks.

“Correction: Were in long-term relationships. Right before they died, it was reported that they left their girlfriends,” Garcia explained.

“That’s important for the victimology, but there has to be something more to set off the unsub,” Spencer commented.

“Yeah, I bet that there was a common reason for them leaving,” you suggested, closing the case file and averting your gaze from the pictures.

“We’ll discuss more on the jet. Wheels up in twenty,” said Hotch.

You all gathered your things and began to leave for the jet, Spencer walking in stride with you.

“You know what, Spence, I’m actually gonna run across the street and grab some tampons before we go, I think i'm gonna need em,” you said. “Go on ahead without me.”

“Are you sure? I can just come with you,” he offered.

“No, no, go brainstorm with the team. I’ll be right there,” you smiled at him as you parted ways. You were going to the convenience store across the street, but it wasn’t for tampons. Your stomach fluttered as the bell jingled at the entrance. The aisle for pregnancy tests was easy to find, and you were on the jet five minutes later.

“Hey, did you find the, um…” Spencer trailed off as you sat down next to him on the jet. He wasn’t one of those men who got weird about menstruation, but you knew he was avoiding the word “tampon” to save you any embarrassment .

“Yup, I’m good,” you smiled and focused on the team who had now gathered around to further discuss the case.

“So, is there any link between the men yet? There has to be a reason that they were all killed soon after leaving their girlfriends,” JJ mused. You thought back to your past fears and your current situation and something suddenly clicked in your brain.

“Wait…” you picked up the case file. “What if… what if they were pregnant?” you asked, looking up to see furrowed brows. “I mean, the handwriting is feminine, so maybe the unsub is a woman who’s getting revenge on men leaving their pregnant girlfriends?” you concluded.

“I’ll call Garcia. We land in 30, keep looking over the files,” Hotch said before you all sat back down in your respective seats, the outside of your thigh pressed against Spencer’s.

You were trying to think of a good time to take the pregnancy test- you couldn’t do it on the jet, it would be really hard to hide on a plane full of profilers. You decided that the best time to take it would be back at the hotel, but after working for hours you found it hard to focus with the pregnancy test in your bag. Excusing yourself to the bathroom in the local precinct, you snuck the test with you. You locked the door behind you and took the test, trying to control your breathing as you waited for the results. As you waited, you got a text from Morgan telling you that there was new information. The moment you finished reading his text, your alarm beeped. Taking a deep breath, you dared a glance at the stick. With shaky hands, you picked up the test and bit your lip to hold back your yelp of joy at the tiny little +. Shoving the test into your bag, you rushed back to the rest of the team to continue working on the case. You would tell Spencer this time, but you decided it would be best to catch a serial killer first.

Garcia confirmed through the phone that all of the girlfriends were pregnant and shared the same obstetrician who was a single mother with a young child. This seemed to be the perfect profile for an unsub killing men who walked out on their families, but something seemed off to you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something was bugging you about the case. You were on the way to Shelby Meyerson’s, the obstetricians house, with Morgan and Spencer when Garcia called.

“Whats up baby girl,” Morgan answered, one hand on the wheel.

“So I’ve been doing some digging and it turns out that Shelby actually has a boyfriend, Andrew. Recent social media posts show that they started dating a little over a month ago, and it looks like Andrew grew up without a father” she said.

“Right before the killings started,” you looked at Spencer from the back seat.

“Garcia, send his address,” Spencer spoke into the speaker.

“Already on it my loves,” Garcia replied, and you could hear the clacking of her keyboard as she hit send. You looked at the address in your phone.

“Morgan, that's right down the street from where we are right now,” you pointed out. The three of you didn’t waste any time getting there. You hopped out of the car and approached the door, hand instinctively resting on your gun.

“FBI, open up,” you said, rapping on the door. You waited for a moment, but when nobody answered, Derek took matters into his own hands. Within seconds, the door had been kicked down and the three of you spread out around the house, Morgan going upstairs and Spencer going into the basement as you canvassed the ground floor. You took notice of a cup of tea on a coffee table, still warm. Once you cleared the area, you made your way into the basement, gun drawn. Your heart dropped at the sight before you- a man you recognized as missing tied to the radiator in the corner of the room, and your unsub restraining your husband with a gun to his head. You kept your gun pointed at the unsub as you heard Morgan come down the stairs behind you.

“Don’t move!” The unsub, Andrew, yelled. You raised your hands when he pointed his gun at you, dropping your weapon to gain trust.

“Andrew, there’s no way to get out of this, just let him go so we can talk,” you tried to soothe him, his grip on Spencer only tightening.

“No, no, you don’t understand. These men deserve to die for leaving their children, they-they’re terrible people, I’m giving them what they deserve,” he argued, becoming frantic.

“Andrew, if you hurt that agent, you’re just as bad as the men you kill,” you began, taking small steps toward Spencer. “He’s my husband and…” you started, locking eyes with Spencer. “And I’m pregnant with his child,” you confessed. Spencer's eyes went wide, shock overtaking the previous expression of fear. You continued to speak. “If you kill him, you make him leave his child. I know you don’t want that, I know you don’t want someone else to go through what you went through,” you bargained. Thankfully, you seemed to get through to him, as he dropped his gun and collapsed to the ground, his grip on Spencer loosening as Derek moved in to cuff him.

You immediately ran to your husband, throwing your arms around his midsection as he wrapped himself around you, kissing the top of your head and whispering reassurances to you. 

“I was so scared,” you said into his chest, your voice muffled by his kevlar vest. He put his hands on the side of your face and wiped your stray tears, his own falling as he started to smile.

“Were you serious? Are… are we pregnant?” he asked, his hopeful smile spreading wide as ever. You bit your lip and nodded, squealing with joy as he picked you up and twirled you around, not even noticing the rest of the BAU had arrived at the scene.

“Hey, be careful with Y/N! She’s carrying my god child,” Derek smirked as Spencer set you down, his arms still wrapped around your waist. 

“Hold on, why does Morgan get to be the godfather?” Rossi questioned, putting on a mock italian accent, making you all laugh.

“That’s not important, what's important is that we're gonna have a baby genius running around,” JJ smiled as she walked over to hug you both, which turned into a group hug between the entire BAU. You all broke up the hug when Morgan's phone began to ring.

“Yes, baby girl everyone's safe. Actually… Pretty boy and pretty girl have some big news,” he said, putting Garcia on speaker.

“What! Tell me right now, I can't handle this!” she begged. You and Spencer smiled at each other before you began to speak.

“You’re gonna be an aunt,” you said excitedly, receiving the loudest gasp through the phone.

“You mean… you… Spencer… you guys… oh my GOD!” she began to ramble about her excitement as you all laughed, Derek taking the phone off speaker to calm her down.

“Our kid is gonna be so loved,” you smiled, grabbing his hands and standing on your toes to press a kiss on his cheek.

“We got really lucky,” he blushed, pulling you back into another hug, the world around you frozen in that moment.

-

just ask if you wanna be on my taglist! <3

taglist: @rigatonireid​,  @aworldoffandoms, @moonshinerbynight, @averyhotchner, @s1utformgg

[mediocre-writerr]

don’t blame me [emily prentiss]

emily prentiss x fem reader

requested: i have a emily prentiss request! reader and emily have been fighting and something happens to the both of them and they make up at the end

“Emily please!” you placed your head in your hands as you were having yet another argument in your shared apartment.

You took a deep breath as she started yelling again, “What Y/N?! Are you cheating on me with Spencer?” 

“What?” you ask, giving her an incredulous look. 

“You two have been awfully close lately.” she points out.

Spencer has always been your best friend. Ever since you joined the BAU together and being the youngest out of the pack. The two of you grew an instant bond despite all of his annoying knowledge. 

“We’ve always been close Em! Do you really not trust me that much?” you ask, looking up at her. 

She just stood there unsure of what to say. But the silence said it all, she didn’t trust you. 

“We’ve been dating for almost a year now and you don’t trust me. Got it.” you whisper, getting up to pack an overnight bag. 

Emily didn’t say anything. She just stood there and watched. Tears stinging her eyes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. I’ll be at JJ’s.” you whisper, leaving the apartment.

Emily didn’t know what to say. She was running thoughts through her mind. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. This was the longest relationship she’s ever been in (Doyle does not count). 

I guess she was scared. She didn’t want to ruin it so she was self-exploding the relationship herself. Making Y/N hate her until she eventually runs off so she doesn’t have to deal with the pain of Y/N breaking up with her on her own.

You found yourself at JJ and Will’s house, knocking on their front door. 

JJ opened the door confused, but with a small smile on her face, “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” 

“Emily and I got into another fight. She thinks I’m cheating on her with Spence.” you say, “Can I stay here tonight?” 

“Of course. Come in, we can talk more about it here.” she whispers. 

Will comes down the stairs, “Hey Y/N, it’s nice to see you again...” 

He continued talking, but you couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. So you stuck with the pleasantries, “It’s good to see you too.” 

JJ poured the two of you a glass of wine as you curled up onto the couch. Henry came running into your lap when he saw you on the way to say goodnight to his mom. 

“Hey bud!” you say ruffling his blonde hair. 

“Hi.” he whispers meekly as you gave him a squeeze. 

You smile at the boy as he hugs his mom goodnight. 

You start to explain everything to her from the past week of the two of you just going at each other’s throats. And even though you were a part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you had a hard time reading Emily. 

Or anyone who wasn’t a killer/kidnapper/arsonist. 

“Y/N, remember that this is her first actual long-term relationship?” JJ says giving her a piece of the puzzle and you nod not understanding her point, “And you know that her relationships haven’t quite worked out in the past?”

“Mhm, I don’t see your point.” you say, completely clueless.

“You do work the BAU correct?” JJ asks laughing. 

You roll your eyes softly, “Duh.” 

“I think you should talk to her. Just ask her what’s going on and go from there.” she suggests and you nod, “Get some rest, we don’t know when Hotch is gonna call.” 

You didn’t understand what JJ was trying to get at. Emily was the best thing that ever happened to you and you would never break her heart in anyway. But the past few days she’s been breaking your heart.

Something she always promised she wouldn’t do.

As JJ expected not even three hours into your sleep, you were woken up by a phone call from Hotch talking about some unsub in Newport, Rhode Island. 

The two of you slowly got ready as the lack of sleep the two of you were experiencing was apparent. JJ drove you two to the BAU headquarters. As you exited the elevator Penelope held a drink carrier in her hand full of hot coffee.

“Thank you.” you whisper to Penelope, shooting her a grateful smile and patting her back. 

As you went into the briefing room, Emily was already sitting there next to Derek. Spencer was also sitting there across from Em with a small smile on his face. 

You walked around the table greeting everyone. You ruffled Spence’s shaggy hair, and fist bumped Derek. Purposefully, avoiding Emily. You didn’t want to talk to her if she doesn’t even trust you. You took the spot next to JJ as you waited for Hotch to come in to give the background. 

“Hello everyone, sorry about the lack of sleep tonight, but this is the fifth death this week.” Hotch says stifling his own yawn, “We have Peter Taylor, age 34, single with no kids. Blunt force trauma to the head before being shot in the heart.” 

Hotch goes over the rest of the victims going all the way to the very beginning. All of them had the same MO’s: blunt force trauma and being shot in the heart. They were also men around the same age. 

He was about to continue on as everyone pitched ideas for what kind of killer this unsub may be, but Hotch got a call. He stepped out of the room and as we waited, Spence kicked your leg softly from under the table. 

Sliding you a note from his notebook: Are you and Em okay?

You quickly wrote down a response: Honestly, no. 

That’s all you put. He read it trying to study, both you and her. Emily noticed the little exchange of notes that was passed. It was enough to make her feel insecure about her own state. Passing notes like they were back in elementary school. 

But maybe this was for the best, Emily thought. 

“Alright guys, we gotta go, there was another body found.” Hotch says, “Wheels up, like now.”

“His killing time is shortening which means he’s gonna go out of control.” Derek says and we all look at each other with determination in our eyes. 

All of you headed onto the plane in a flash. Every time you were on the plane you took the spot next to Emily. It was a little thing the two of you did, basking in the comfort and the safety of each other before going out into the dangerous field. 

Sort of like a good luck charm.

But this time was different. Emily waited for you expectedly to take the seat next to her, but you didn’t. You took a seat by yourself, away from the rest of the group. The entire team eyed each other, all of them concerned at the couple’s behavior recently.

You put your headphones drowning out the rest of the noise, trying to get much sleep as possible. 

When you arrived in Newport, the air was cool as the costal breeze hit your hair. The smell of the salty sea filling your nostrils. You loved being along the coast, it was one of your favorite things. 

It brought you calmness and peace. 

You and the rest of the team got to work as you reached the police station. Hotch paired the team off as per usual, pairing you and Em to go check out the most recent body. 

The two of you walked together in silence, neither of you knew what to say. It wasn’t the comfortable silence the two of you have while lying in bed watching whatever was on the TV. It was an awkward silence of you at your breaking point in the relationship, not understanding what’s wrong. 

“Blunt force to the head, shot to the heart. This is an act of our guy.” Emily says softly, the first time that you were speaking since last night. 

You looked down at the body and noticed a little paper sticking out of his pocket. Picking it up with your glove, you opened it as it read three simple words.

Don’t Blame Me

“Don’t blame me?” you say, more of a rhetorical question than anyone else. 

“What?” she asks.

You hand her the note, “It says don’t blame me.” I whisper.

The handwriting didn’t look a man’s handwriting. It was neat and polished. Men’s handwriting are usually messy and sometimes illegible. 

You start to walk away from the scene finished with the crime scene, leaving her behind. When Em notices you’re gone she immediately starts running after you.

“Y/N!” she yells, finally catching up to you and spinning you to face her, “What’s the matter with you?” she asks.

You scoff in response, “Tell me why.” 

“Why what?!” she asks, yelling, frustrated with how cold you’re being to her.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N I-” she paused struggling for what else to say, but nothing was coming out.

She was left speechless, just like she was when you left the night before. 

You nod, “Never mind. Come talk to me when you’re ready.” you whisper, disappointedly. 

As the day went on you learned more and more about the unsub. The team gathered more clues and realized that all of the victims were connected to one women. 

Hayley Nolan, a bartender at the famous bar in town. She was 26 and very popular with the guys and gals around town. 

Whoever this unsub was targeted all of the men who flirted with her. She wasn’t married or had any kids. But she was in a relationship with a one Matthew Grimes. 

We interrogated Matthew, but checked all of his alibi’s that he was at work every night of the attacks. 

You and the team were in Hayley’s home, making sure to keep a cop with her at all times. When you took a look around the house as you watched the time go by, you realized that Matthew still wasn’t back yet.

“Hayley? Where did Matthew say he was going?” you ask as you entered the living room again. 

She shook her head trying to remember, “He said he was going to the gym, but that was a couple hours ago.”

All of you shared nervous glances as you realized that he was probably in danger right now. Reid and JJ come bursting into the room, “We found out who the unsub is.”

“Hayley, does the name Taylor Hunt ring a bell?” Reid asks as he sits down on one of the chairs in the living area. 

Hayley nods softly, “Yeah. She’s one of the regulars at the bars.”

“Does she ever seem protective when someone tries to flirt with you?” you ask.

“Yeah, all the time. I always thank her for it by giving her free drink. Why?” and then it all starts piecing together for her, “Oh my gosh. You don’t think she-” 

JJ squeezes her hand softly, “You see Taylor is living in her own little fantasy world. Making her believe that you’re flirting with her and want to be with her. When in reality you’re just being nice. So she kills off anyone who she thinks is a threat.” 

“We need to find Matthew now.” Derek says sternly. 

You and him run out of the house and into one of the vans. Driving your way as quickly as possible to the gym.

Your phone started to ring and you answered it, your eyes scanning the road you were driving on, “Police called and said they’re inside the gym. Hostage situation. Me and Prentiss are right behind you.” Hotch says. 

Making your way into the gym, the two of you noticed that you Hotch and Emily were already in there. Both of them had their guns away so both of you put your guns away. 

When Taylor saw us come into the room, she pointed her gun towards us. But Emily was quick to intervene.

“Hey, it’s okay. They won’t hurt you. I know how you feel.” Emily says softly, trying to get through to her. 

“You do?” Taylor asks.

Emily nods and you were intrigued at where she was going with this, “I know how it feels to love someone so much you’re scared everyday that you’re gonna lose them. Everyone is so intrigued by them and they’re so beautiful and funny that you can’t help but feel that she’ll choose someone else.”

Your tilt your head to the side as Emily makes a quick side glance to you.

“But the difference is that you’re stronger than me. You’re trying to protect what you have with Hayley. I tend to just cause useless fights because I’m scared that they’ll break my heart. So instead of being surprised by the heartbreak, I explode our relationship.” Emily adds on. 

And everything finally starts clicking. Everything JJ was trying to say, all of it.

“Now you don’t want to do that so if you really love Hayley, I need you to put the gun down. And let Matthew go.” she whispers.

Taylor lets out a quiet sob before putting down the gun and letting Matthew go. Em goes over to her and puts her hand behind her back, handcuffing her. Hotch takes her to the cop car while Morgan tends to Matthew’s wounds. 

You ran over to your girlfriend embracing her in a huge hug. She holds you close and tight, like she’s afraid that you might walk away again.

Taking your hand you place it underneath her chin to get her to look at you, “I love you. And I am never gonna break your heart. I promise.” 

[erin-bo-berin]

Cupid

MASTERLIST

This was requested by @sundippedprincess​ I’m pretty sure! Oh man, don’t we all love some daddy Spencer? I couldn’t resist writing this cute little fluff piece. Hope it’s a good start to all of you guys’ Mondays. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 4,773

For as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a teacher.

Apparently, after coming home from your first day in kindergarten, you had announced to your parents that you wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Twenty years later, you were living your dream.

Your kindergarten kids were your whole life. You always loved seeing them, watching them grow and learn. You typically dreaded summer vacation because you missed your kids and teaching so much, despite the few months of break.

This was only your second year of teaching, but you were enjoying it just as much as your first. It was tough saying goodbye to the first group of students, but it made it worth it when you saw them in the school halls and some still ran up to greet you.

School had just let out for another day and you already missed the bright young minds of your students. You were cleaning up your classroom before working on some grading when you heard a small voice coming from your doorway.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned and saw a little girl with light brown curls and a turquoise blue backpack standing in your doorway, looking hesitant. She was one of your best behaved students, Ayla Reid.

“Ayla! Did you forget something?”

She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with the movement.

“My daddy is late and they told me at the office to come stay with you instead of waiting outside by myself. Is that okay?”

She was the sweetest little girl. She was a bright little girl as well, having no trouble with soaking up new knowledge like her brain was a tiny sponge. She was always kind and helpful when it came to other classmates, but she never hesitated to speak her mind. All in all, she was an outgoing, bubbly little girl with a heart of gold.

“Of course, sweetie. Come on in.”

You took the chair to her desk off the top of it, setting it back on the floor so she could sit in her usual place.

You peeked over your shoulder as you headed to your arts and crafts station to see her settling in to her normal desk. You grabbed some paper and crayons and walked back to her with them in hand.

“Would you like to color while you wait?”

She nodded, smiling big.

“I love to color!”

You laughed, knowing that all too well. It was one of her favorite activities when doing schoolwork. 

“Is your daddy always late when picking you up?” you asked, sitting back down behind your desk.

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s just a few minutes, but he’s never been this late,” she answered.

She’d already opened the box of crayons and was starting to draw before you’d even asked your question.

You glanced at the clock in your room to see it was nearing 3:15. School let out at 2:30–Ayla’s father was nearly an hour late.

“This doesn’t happen all the time,” she said, “‘Cause sometimes my mommy picks me up.”

You understood that. Plenty of your students had parents who worked full time and was occasionally late to pick them up.

She said nothing else as she was busy with her picture, so you started sorting through the turned in work for the week so far. You would have to log in grades and update the grades later on so it was just easier to get through this first step now.

“My daddy works a lot,” Ayla said out of the blue.

You looked up, smiling, seeing her still hard at work with her crayons.

“What does he do?” you asked, interested.

“He’s a pwofiler. I’m not quite sure what that means but he works in the FBI. That’s like the police but more important.”

You chuckled. She wasn’t one to miss much. When you’d said she was incredibly smart, you hadn’t been exaggerating.

“That sounds like a very interesting job. I’m sure you’re incredibly proud of him, Ayla,” you said.

“Mhm,” she nodded big, looking up from her picture, “He’s very smart too. He’s got a robotic memory!”

You raised a brow, not quite sure what she meant, but laughed anyway.

“Is that so? That’s impressive.”

“He a docta. But not like the ones you go to when you’re sick.”

She went back to the picture and you watched her for a moment, amused. There was so much energy and spunk in this little girl. You wouldn’t doubt for one minute that her parents had their hands full with her.

“Can I show you my picture?” she asked.

“Of course, let me see.”

You stood up, walking over to her desk, crouching to her level.

On it, there were several stick figures.

“Oh that’s beautiful,” you grinned, “Are these your friends?”

“No, these my aunties and uncles at the BAU. That’s where my daddy works.”

“I see,” you said, listening intently.

“This my daddy,” she pointed to the tallest of the group.

“This is auntie Emily, auntie JJ, auntie Penelope and auntie Tara.”

She smiled proudly as pointed at the obvious female stick figures.

“And what about these three?” you asked, motioning to a group of men.

“That is uncle Luke, uncle Dave and uncle Matt. The two on that side are uncle Hotch and uncle Derek. They don’t work with my daddy anymore but they still my uncles.”

“Wow, you’ve got a lot of extended family, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she beamed.

“Ayla, honey, I’m so sorry.”

You stood up from where you were crouching next to Ayla to see a quite tall man walking into your classroom, a tan, leather satchel slung over his body.

“Daddy!” Ayla squealed, jumping out of her seat, running towards him.

She collided into his legs, hugging him and he picked her up with a big smile on his face, kissing her cheek.

You took the moment to get a better look at him, now that he was closer.

He was undeniably attractive, but didn’t seem to be the type that flaunted his looks either. His light brown hair was as curly as his daughter’s and looked to be in a bit of disarray, part of it falling over his forehead while other curls fell in numerous directions.

He was outfitted in a work suit, a tie and sweater underneath his suit jacket. He pulled it off very well.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at his daughter and she kissed his stubbled cheek. You didn’t fail to notice his sharp jawline or his easy, bright smile either.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he apologized, whether to Ayla or you, you weren’t entirely sure.

“It’s okay daddy. I like Miss Y/L/N. She’s pretty like a princess.”

You sucked in a breath in surprise, touched by her words. You couldn’t help when your eyes immediately teared up. It was such a sweet and sincere thing for Ayla to say and knowing kids were brutally honest, you knew she meant every word of it.

You cleared your throat, composing yourself when you noticed Ayla’s father watching you, eyes squinting in concentration.

He probably thinks you’re a blubbering fool, you thought.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Reid,” you extended your hand.

“It’s docta Reid,” Ayla corrected you, emphatically.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry. Dr. Reid.”

He chuckled, setting Ayla back down and telling her to get her things together.

“It’s no big deal,” he said, shaking your hand.

You tried not to focus on the fact his hand was so large in yours as you quickly pulled back, silencing any further thoughts.

“I told Miss Y/L/N how you’re a pwofiler and have a robotic memory!” Ayla exclaimed, as she cleaned up her desk, putting her picture in her backpack.

“Uh, it’s actually eidetic,” he said, flushing a bit.

“I couldn’t remember what it was called so I just went with robotic,” Ayla shrugged.

You both chuckled at her response, before turning back to each other.

“I was wondering how smart you must be to have a robotic memory,” you smiled.

“Well she was kinda close,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair, “Eidetic is just another term for photographic memory.”

“Oh wow,” you said, surprised, “That’s impressive. No wonder you have such a brilliant daughter.”

He smiled appreciatively and said his thanks before speaking again.

“I don’t remember seeing you at the Kindergarten registration a few months ago.���

“Oh, unfortunately I wasn’t able to attend as I was sick. My teacher’s assistant Mrs. Lamb stepped in for me. Apparently she was a big hit though because she got all the kids to believe she was from Old MacDonald's Farm!”

You cringed inwardly at your spiel. You were used to talking to five year olds and other teachers, definitely not attractive dads, let alone men in general.

You chided yourself again. He was probably married anyway and you had little business drooling over a student’s father.

His smile was on full display though as he laughed at your statement.

“Come on Ayla, we need to get going. I have to head back to work for a little while but you can hang out with auntie Penelope okay?”

“Okay!” she grinned, putting on her backpack and taking his hand.

They were just leaving when something made you stop them.

“Um, Dr. Reid?”

He paused, turning back to you.

“Yes?”

“If you ever find yourself running late to pick Ayla up, I’d be happy to let her stay in my classroom until you get here.”

You’re not sure why you offered. Well for one, you really did like Ayla, she was such a sweet girl. But you tried to convince yourself that it was just a nice gesture to hopefully make things a bit easier on him. You knew sometimes your parents struggled with finding someone to pick up their child from school on time.

It wasn’t because you hoped to see him again. Definitely not.

“Oh you don’t have to. I can try to get away earlier when possible,” he protested.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured, “I’d love the company. Besides, she’s such a joy to have.”

He seemed to take a moment to think it over before nodding.

“I just may take you up on that.”

•

“Daddy, what does pwofiling mean?”

Spencer had just lifted Ayla into the car and placed her into her booster seat, where she was currently buckling the seatbelt to it.

“Well,” he paused, intrigued at what could have brought on her sudden question, “It’s just studying a person’s behavior. For example, I can recognize how you behave guiltily when you eat the last cookie in the cookie jar.”

Ayla grinned big, not in the least bit ashamed.

“But you do that with bad guys right?”

“That’s correct, baby,” he smiled, kissing her forehead.

He closed the back door and walked around to the driver’s side door, sliding in. He had just gotten his own seatbelt clicked into place when she spoke again.

“Daddy, I pwofiled you.”

“Did you now?” he chuckled, amused at his little girl’s comment.

“Yes,” she nodded, “You like Miss Y/L/N.”

“Well of course I do, she’s your teacher and she’s very nice.”

“No, I mean you like like her,” she emphasized.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Because you’re smiling all goofy,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You only smile like that when you talk about things you know about.”

He felt himself flush a little bit. It was true, he hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d left Ayla’s classroom. There was something refreshing about her teacher and he would have to be blind to not admit she was indeed as Ayla had said, very pretty.

“Are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?” Ayla asked as he drove out of the school parking lot.

He chuckled at her brazenness.

“Honey, I don’t even know her. Besides, I’m too busy to date.”

“I’m busy too but I have a boyfriend.”

“You do?” Spencer asked, trying his best to hide his surprise.

“Of course, daddy,” she rolled her eyes, exasperated, like she was a teenager already, “I’m busy and don’t always get to see Michael but he my boyfriend.”

Spencer smiled to himself. Michael LaMontagne was his best friend JJ’s and her husband Will’s youngest son. He was a little over two years older than Ayla, but she always proclaimed that Michael was her boyfriend. The two got along extremely well and it was incredibly adorable.

He decided not to comment any further on it though because he knew she wouldn’t give up on it easily.

“Baby, you know what days daddy picks you up, right?”

“Yup. Mondays and Fridays.”

“Good. Since I never know when I might be running late, will you ask Miss Y/L/N if you could stay with her until I get there?

“Okay daddy.”

She turned to the window, watching the passing landscape, her previous conversation apparently finished.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ayla’s teacher again.

•

Ayla rushed out of the elevator when the doors opened on the floor the BAU was located on.

“There’s my favorite girl!”

Penelope has been waiting for them, excited to spend time with her goddaughter. As she was her only goddaughter, Ayla definitely got a bit spoiled.

“Auntie Penelope!” Ayla squealed, running into Garcia’s arms.

“How was your day at school, pumpkin?” she asked.

“Good,” Ayla beamed.

“Must’ve been, your daddy is 15 minutes late getting back,” Garcia said, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Uh, traffic,” Spencer said.

“No,” Ayla shook her head, looking up at Spencer, “You were busy smiling at Miss Y/L/N.”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Garcia questioned, her interest piqued.

“She’s my teacher,” Ayla explained, “And she’s really pretty, auntie Penelope. Like a princess!”

“Like a princess, huh?”

Garcia was now eyeing Spencer hardcore with a knowing grin. Spencer knew she would be all over this with a million questions before long.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go hang out with auntie Penelope now while daddy finishes up his work?”

“Alright. Come on auntie Penelope! I wanna show you the picture I drew!”

Ayla grabbed her hand, practically dragging Garcia towards her lair.

Garcia looked over her shoulder pointing a finger at him.

“Don’t think you’ve escaped my questions! We’re talking about this later!”

Spencer knew good and well they would be.

“So, a pretty kindergarten teacher, huh?”

Spencer startled, seeing Luke standing in the doorway of the BAU, his back against the glass door, holding it open. In his hand was a plastic cup of coffee that he was drinking. He’d obviously been here longer than Spencer had realized and had heard everything. 

“Don’t you start too,” he grumbled.

“Hey, I’m just curious!” Luke protested, following Spencer in as he walked into the unit, “How pretty is she?”

“Very,” Spencer mumbled to himself.

Getting her out of his head would be the best thing to do, although maybe not the easiest.

•

It was the third time that you were keeping Ayla in your classroom after school until Dr. Reid could pick her up.

You found yourself counting down the hours every Monday and Friday, waiting to see his bright and smiling face. 

You couldn’t believe you were looking forward to a maybe five minute encounter out of your entire day, but here you were.

“Miss Y/L/N?” you heard Ayla call from her desk.

“Yes?” 

You looked up from the learning packets you were stapling together for the new week.

“Is it okay if I feed Freddy?”

Freddy was the class pet, a neon tetra fish. He was a simple fish, one that was easy for new fish owners, from what you’d researched before getting him.

He was small, but feisty. His coloring really took you by surprise when you first got him. With colors of bright red and green, red towards the end of his body and a lime green towards his front with a turquoise blue duochrome look to him, he always looked festive and bright.

He had an automatic fish feeder, but every once in a while you let one of your students throw a small amount in for him as an extra treat.

“Of course,” you smiled, getting up to help her.

You walked over to the fish tank and grabbed the fish food, opening it for her.

“Now, just get a tiny little pinch, okay?”

She nodded and did what she was told, her face serious as she concentrated on what she was doing.

Stepping up on the stool you left in front of the tank—for the small kids purposes—she sprinkled the food into the water. Freddy immediately devoured it.

“I think he liked it,” she smiled, watching him through the glass.

“I think he did too,” you agreed.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You turned, seeing Dr. Reid walk in, a smile on his face.

Your stomach fluttered, seeing him again for the first time in days. 

“I fed Freddy, daddy!” Ayla grinned big, running to give him a hug.

“Did you now? That’s a very big girl task! I’m proud of you! High five!”

He was crouched in front of her, hugging her but then he pulled out of her embrace and held up his hand, which she high fived.

“It’s time to get your things kiddo, we’re having your favorite for dinner tonight,” he said.

“Chicken nuggets with sweet potato fries?”

“You guessed it! Now go,” he shooed her towards her desk.

You smiled, watching them. He stood back up, facing you with a small smile.

“I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

“Not at all. She’s an angel. She’s probably one of my best behaved students,” you said.

“Now that’s surprising,” he chuckled.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Ayla called, coming back over with her backpack on her back, “You should come to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I-” you began, in attempt to politely turn her down, when Dr. Reid spoke before you.

“Bunny, you’re going to be at your mom’s tomorrow night,” he said.

Ayla’s reply was simple and to the point.

“I know.”

You felt your eyes widen and your face heat when you realized her insinuation. Dr. Reid looked just as flustered and thrown as you felt.

“Ayla, honey, you know daddy has to work tomorrow. Remember I told you I had to work late?” Spencer stammered, trying to say the entirety of the few sentences.

At that point, you just wished for a hole to open up in your classroom floor and swallow you. If it wasn’t awkward enough that one of your students had basically just asked you out for her own father, then it was definitely the fact that he was trying to backpedal on the “invite” and most likely because he had no interest in you, not that you could blame him.

“Daddy, you told me it’s wrong to tell a lie,” Ayla gave him a look.

You were sure at this point Dr. Reid had turned scarlet from his face all the way down his neck. You felt bad for him, but still felt the awkwardness of the situation.

“You said that when I was at mommy’s house last week. You said this week you wouldn’t have to work late.”

Somehow, this behavior from Ayla didn’t surprise you in the slightest. When she was set on something, she was determined to accomplish it.

He looked up at you, clearly uncomfortable but you spoke before he could, trying to salvage the situation.

“Don’t worry,” you chuckled, “Kids will be kids. Believe me, I know. I have 28 of them for 8 hours, 5 days a week.”

His smile eased a bit and you felt yourself relax a tiny amount.

“I hope you have a good weekend Ayla and I’ll see you Monday,” you said.

You couldn’t help but notice her pouty expression as Dr. Reid took her hand and left your classroom.

You almost had to breathe a sigh of relief after living through that awkward moment.

You had just sat down behind your desk and resumed stapling papers together when you heard your name being called.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

You glanced up, seeing Dr. Reid in the doorway sans Ayla.

“Yes? Did Ayla forget something?” 

You stood, ready to head towards her desk to check for a missing folder or a favorite toy.

“Actually, no, I did.”

You gave him a confused look before he began to explain.

“I was- uh I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to get coffee sometime? With me? Or maybe ice cream or something considering it’s still pretty hot? Hot outside I mean.”

Your stomach quite literally did a flip flop at his cute, nervous, rambling. 

Here was a grown man, who worked in the FBI, had a child and could probably rival a Bachelor contestant, yet he managed to adorably stumble over his words as he asked you out.

“Well, I practically live off coffee because of my job,” you said.

“So do I,” he grinned, a small, new found connection between the two of you, discovered.

“But ice cream sounds nice,” you smiled, “Whenever you’re free that is.”

“Tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow sounds fine,” you concluded, “Hold on.”

You turned to grab a sticky note from your desk, jotting something down quickly.

“My number,” you smiled, handing it to him, “Just let me know what time.”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you confirmed.

“Oh and for future reference, I’m Spencer.”

“Y/N,” you grinned.

With a smile on his own face, he walked back out of your classroom, presumably to an awaiting Ayla.

You had to hold back your laughter when you heard her next statement all the way from the hallway, clear as day.

“I think I know now why uncle Morgan used to say you got no game.”

•

It was roughly 2 pm the next afternoon as you stood outside the ice cream parlor that was near the elementary school. 

You fidgeted in place nervously, wondering if he was going to show.

His actual asking you on a date was so sudden and abrupt, you’d hardly had time to wrap your head around it. 

With one glance down at your outfit, you tried hard not to criticize yourself. You’d changed about six times before finally deciding on a simple, cute, sleeveless sundress in an aqua turquoise color. It would be cool, cute, casual and not trying too hard.

“You look nice and cool.”

You turned to see Spencer approaching you and you smiled, relieved that he actually showed up and it wasn’t just a dream.

“Hot enough for you?” you chuckled.

“Too hot,” he agreed, “Shall we?”

He motioned after him and you walked into the wonderful chilly air of the ice cream parlor. He even held the door open for you; this man was already amazing.

There was only polite small talk while you both ordered; mint chocolate chip in a cone for him, vanilla in a cup with numerous toppings for you.

“Vanilla?” he raised an eyebrow at your choice.

“Only if I’m in the mood for a lot of toppings,” you elaborated.

You’d ordered your ice cream with Oreo pieces, rainbow sprinkles and chopped nuts.

When you both retrieved your orders from the counter, he peeked over at yours.

“There any ice cream under there?” he teased.

“Hush,” you chuckled.

You found a shaded table outside to sit at. Despite the heat, a small breeze occasionally cooled the temperature, making it a bit more bearable.

“So, Y/N.”

“That’s my name,” you smiled.

It was amazing how up until this point, you’d been so nervous for this date, but sitting in front of him, you were much more comfortable.

He took another lick from his cone, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Why teaching?”

You raised a brow, figuring you’d get in a question of your own too.

“Why the FBI?” you inquired.

He chuckled, appreciating your challenge.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” he said.

“Well—as the story goes, my parents claim—I came home from my first day of Kindergarten claiming I was going to be a teacher, specifically a kindergarten teacher. I don’t remember this at all,” you laughed, “But apparently it was kismet.”

He watched you intently as you talked, eating his ice cream silently as he hung on to your every word. It was surprising at how nice it made you feel to know he was interested in knowing about you.

“I joined the FBI when I was 22.”

“Wow, that’s really young and impressive,” you said, eyes wide.

“Well to preface this, I was somewhat of a childhood prodigy. I graduated high school at 12 and managed to earn three PhDs by 20, plus two BAs.”

You stared at him open mouthed, your spoon halfway to your mouth, the ice cream on it melting and dripping back into the cup.

He looked embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable. Something told you that while he was proud of his achievements, he wasn’t one that really enjoyed bragging about them.

“That explains the title of Doctor and the robotic memory.”

That seemed to break the spell and his face broke into a grin as he laughed easily at his daughter’s antics.

“That child, I swear. She’s something else.”

“She really is,” you agreed.

There was a lull in conversation and you decided to ask him about what you were wondering from the previous afternoon.

“So...you and your wife are separated or divorced I assume?”

“Oh me and Ayla’s mom have never been together actually.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to deal with divorced, separated or even single parents of your students, but to actually know the circumstances like this was unusual for you.

He nodded.

“I wasn’t in a place for a relationship and neither was her mother, so all we ever had was a physical relationship and Ayla was the result of that. We remained friends and co-parent now. She’s got a lovely fiancé now though that’s great with Ayla. But as messed up and impractical as that relationship was, I wouldn’t change it for anything though because it gave me Ayla and I’ve never regretted her for a moment,” Spencer said.

“She clearly adores you,” you smiled, “You’re a great father too.”

“Thank you,” he smiled shyly, “I try my best. But what about you, anyone special?”

He winced the moment the question left his mouth.

“Well if there was, I wouldn’t be here now would I?” 

You could help but tease him, flashing him a joking expression.

“Point taken,” he laughed inwardly, “It didn’t dawn on me how obvious the question was until I said it. I’m sorry, I’m not really good at this dating thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve done it, actually.”

He looked pained, like a teenager on his first date, but you found it extremely endearing.

“Well I think you’re doing just fine,” you reassured him, “Also, no.”

His brow crinkled in confusion.

“No, what?”

“No, there’s no one special in my life. Unless you count 28 five year olds,” you snickered.

Sometime during the conversation, you’d both finished your ice cream. You tossed your trash and returned to the table.

“I’ve got a few hours before I have to pick up Ayla. Would you like to take a walk?” Spencer asked.

“Sure,” you agreed.

The two of you walked side by side, chatting it up about a variety of different things until his tinkering chuckle made you glance up at him, curious to what he found so funny.

“What is it?”

“It just struck me funny,” he said, pausing to look down at you.

You stopped with him, waiting for him to continue.

“Who would’ve thought my five year old daughter could be such an adorable yet successful pint sized Cupid?”

You had to agree as your face broke into your hundredth smile of that afternoon. She had been persistent and it seemed like her persistency had paid off.

He was right though, you’d never in a million years imagined one of your pupils playing matchmaker for you.

But you were glad Ayla had.

How thankful you were to have her in your class.

“She was right, you know,” Spencer said, more serious now.

“About what?”

“You are as pretty as a princess.”

As you two resumed your walking, the smile now permanently plastered on your face, you could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush yours ever so slightly.

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[secret-rendezvous1d]

“don’t leave me”

hello, hi!

i definitely don’t think this is a one-off thing anymore and this blog may be on the way to merging into a harry styles + matthew gray gubler blog so i’d like to think that that is a new exciting venture people will . i’m really enjoying writing about a new scene, a new character and a new life to plan out and write about. the stories don’t essentially follow each other so they can be read anyhow and in any way but i’d like to think they all follow the same storyline/timeline so they link in that way.

like, reblog and give me some feedback. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after.

thank you. enjoy.

-

“don’t leave me” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 2.1k.

* if you haven’t watched criminal minds then this does contain some spoilers to the show that you may want to dodge if you are thinking of starting the series up. *

summary; spencer struggles to come to terms with emily’s return and the betrayal of his friends.

-

“Spencer, look, we’ve got to talk about this.”

YN came to a stop with what she was doing when she saw her boyfriend and JJ starting a conversation in the station’s negotiation room, setting down the files she was sifting through so she could pay a little more attention to the conversation happening just a few feet away from the desk she was seated at, eyes still focused on the page with the bold name of a potential unsub printed at the top, accompanied by a picture of what they looked like. She tried to, at least, make herself seem busy without showing herself being nosey over a conversation that didn’t necessarily include her.

“What do you mean, talk about it?” Spencer questioned, looking at her in disbelief, “talk about what?”

YN hated how passive-aggressive he’d been, over the last two days, towards the two women who used to be considered a few of the only women close to him. He was never like that and, given what had happened, she understood his pain and his upset… she just hated how he wanted to push it, and them, away so he could carry on like an unexpected change hadn’t just sprung into his life.

“I get it, okay? You’re disappointed with the way we handled Emily,” JJ stated, hands on her hips as she stood around the opposite side of the table, watching intently at Spencer as he stood looking at the paper in his hands, eyes darting from the print to his scrawny handwriting on the board beside him, “I get that.”

The tension amongst the team was unbearable, to say the least.

As soon as Emily had entered the roundtable room a week prior to their case in Oklahoma, much to the surprise of everyone occupying the room who had stood waiting for the next plan of action to take down Ian Doyle and find his son, there was a sudden wave of uncertainty that seemed swallow the team whole and didn’t have plans on spitting them back out again anytime soon. No one could pick apart the emotions on one person’s face and state clearly how they were feeling. Confusion, shock, anger, happiness, joy, surprise… there were flecks of each emotion but never one clear facial expression that gave away how someone was truly feeling.

Now they were deep in Oklahoma, on a case and trying to find an unsub who had come to light in the recent murders of two young women prior to their touchdown, with Emily back in her regular place and trying her best to get back to normal as a BAU agent for the FBI. No longer under protection of the higher authority, no longer hiding behind an alias that took her identity away and stripped her of who she once was and she was finally able to go back to the Emily Prentiss whom she had been loved by many before life did a one-eighty flip. Almost as if nothing had changed, like the seven months she spent in witness protection hadn’t ever happened, like her death and her funeral and her burial were a fever dream that seemed to never leave the rest of them alone.

For most of the unit, having her back was something so wonderful and so great, to see her jumping back into a case with a mindset ready for justice and helping out with the mind she was graced with having, to have the same pair of eyes that were used to seeing case after case of young victims and unstable unsubs be considered a fresh pair of eyes now she was back. To work a case with someone you were comfortable with, that was what the most of them loved; the witty banter shared, the anger that bounced off from each sentence, the kind and caring charisma to get the best result of a case.  

But for some, it was difficult to adjust to something they had only just overcome.The grief they felt towards the situation of losing a beloved member of the unit, someone so loving and kind, a huge part of their team, it was unbearable and tore them down soon after they presumed they laid her to rest. Going back, visiting her burial site, resting flowers and almost keeping her updated with how everyone had been. They refused to believe she was gone yet denied her when she was found out to be healthy and alive and ready to start back where she left off.

“Well, I have a lot going on, alright?”

A lie, to say the least, but she wasn’t to know that.

“You know what I think it is?”

That caught his attention. And YN’s.

The one question that many profilers, specifically Spencer, hated to be personally asked was that question. They didn’t need to know what others thought when they could have the same thought pattern as each other, they didn’t need someone else telling them what they think they should be thinking and Spencer didn’t need a pity chat from someone who wronged him to find out what he was thinking.

Deep down, YN knew what the problem was and she was handling the situation as best as she could when she was alone with him in their hotel room, but she didn’t think it was as clear cut as people assumed. So how had JJ worked it out? If she was correct in what she thought was wrong with him, that is. He was hurt and he was upset and he was confused; he showed his grief towards missing a friend and he showed how much they meant to him by showing so much emotion yet he just couldn’t come to terms with how none of that was needed anymore. How he didn’t need to build his walls any higher because there wasn’t going to be any more heartache to deal with..

“What?”

“You’re mad that Hotch and I controlled our micro-expressions at the hospital and you weren’t able to detect our deception,” JJ suggested, a little more vigour in her voice as she spoke to him, frustration dripping from her words because she was desperate to get through to him. Absolutely desperate to find some way to resolve an issue that others had forgiven almost instantly, “you’re mad because you couldn’t catch us out on our lies.”

“You think this is about my profiling skills?” He scoffed and shook his head, looking back to the paper in his hands, ”Jennifer, listen, the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions was because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row, crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth,” he continued, disappointment laced through his words. And he so badly wanted to look up and catch the eyes of his girlfriend, the only one he felt truly supported him and his decision to act out, but he knew he needed to fight a battle of his own. Especially one that he caused but especially one that he was actively dragging out.

“I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t? Or you wouldn’t?”

It was the first time they made eye contact through the debacle. And, in that moment, JJ could see the pain behind his eyes. The deceit he felt. The grief that was nonsense because they were grieving over no one. The time wasted crying. The time wasted over nothing but false information and lies. She could see he looked vulnerable and naive and she felt guilty for even bringing her back to help on the mission they so direly needed her help with.

“No, I couldn’t.”

“What if I started taking Dilaudid again? Would you have let me?” YN’s eyes shot up at the question he bit towards his colleague; he never considered that, she was sure of it. YN would have known if he did. That time of his life was something she wished he would let go of, something she wished he forgot about so he could carry on with his life, something she wished he never considered again, “I thought about it.”  

YN couldn’t only feel her heart ache but she could feel the eyes of Hotch and Morgan resting upon her figure as she tried to occupy herself.

“You didn’t-”

“I did,” he hissed, placing the paper down on the desk below him and striding towards the doors, passed JJ as she pressed an apology upon him, hoping to get him to stay behind so she could hash it out until he fully understood their reasoning why they chose the plan that they did, “I did.”

“Spencer, I’m sorry-”

“It’s too late, alright?” He mumbled.

His legs took him out of the room and down from the floor they were situated on, ignoring the calls from Hotch as he stood with his arms folded in the corner of the room, everyone watching him as he left to go outside so he could catch a breath of fresh air and clear his mind of all the things rattling around inside his head. An alarming look from Morgan and a squeeze to her shoulder had YN up from her seat, case files left behind as she followed her boyfriend out of the station’s vicinity, catching him on a bench just a short walk away from the entrance of the building.

“If you’re coming here to tell me I need to focus on work rather than what’s happening then don’t, Morgan. I’m not-”

“What on earth gives you the impression I’m the big dude with muscles and a charming voice?” YN teased, his upper body twisting so he could catch the sweet stature of his smiling girlfriend, the slightest hint of a smile twitching his lips before he turned back to face forward. Hands clasped together and resting on his legs, thumbs tapping and rubbing at his skin in circles, feeling the presence of his girlfriend behind him, “mind telling me what that was all about?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He slipped to the other side of the bench so there was enough room for YN to sit down beside him, her hand reaching over to lace her fingers through his, squeezing his hand tightly as their conjoined palms rested upon his thigh, “I’m hurt and I’m angry, YN. I’m so angry. You saw how much I cried, how much I struggled, how much everyone had to adjust to life without Emily when she ‘died’. Yet they knew, they knew she was alive and they knew she was healthy and okay. They didn’t tell us and that’s- it’s sick,” he grappled, his voice full of passion; there was no way he was angry with them anymore and there was no way he would continue the trait up until someone said something to bring him back down to earth. He was glad she was home - he told her so many times in the last few days about just how great it was to have her home - but he never failed to drift back to the subject of how they dealt with the situation.

“They did it for her protection, Spence. They saved her and, essentially, saved us for truly having to say goodbye to her,” YN admitted, bringing their hands to her mouth so she could press a tacky kiss to the back of his hand, leaving a pink lipstick stain behind in her wake, “she’s safe now because of what they did. Doyle, he’s dead. Anyone who was after, they’re dead. She’s safer now than she was ever.”

“But they watched us grieve at a funeral. We buried something in that ground and were made to believe it was her,” Spencer sighed shakily, “they cried for her, too. They grieved. They said nothing was the same anymore. When they knew the truth all along. I cried with JJ, she helped me when you were working, she was denying it all but, in her head, she knew everything was a lie.”

“Emily left for a reason. To save everyone. She’s back now and you’ve got to remember how everything was before she left us,” YN’s hand gave his a gentle squeeze before she let go, bringing her hands to her lap and waiting for him to look up from the ground so she could see his eyes and so she could see his bright smile, “Spence, she’s not going anywhere.”

He nodded slowly and hesitantly lifted his head, his eyes a little raw around the rims and his lip a little chewed at, but the light in his face was still there. His body scooting closer to YN, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side for a little bit of romance before they were caught and checked on by another agent.

“You won’t leave me like that, will you?” He wondered, “don’t, okay? Don’t leave me.”

“If I’m going anywhere, you’re coming with me, mister,” YN grinned, leaning up to press a kiss to his pink lips, “we do it together or we don’t do it at all.”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Hi! You often give alot of insight into anons like this and your my fave CM blog so that's why I'm here! So I'm finishing up the last seasons (and lord it is hard to get through) and they just introduced Max and I cannot stand her. She was just so rude and it felt like she had 2 different personalities the entire time she was on screen. And I worried that this meant I was like hating women because I don't like other female characters like Maeve, JJ, Hailey, and Seaver. But then I started thinking and I honestly think it's cause these Characters are women poorly written by men. But then I wondered how they created likeable Characters like Emily, Kristy, Blake, Tara, and Penelope (leaving out others like Savannah because they're under developed in my opinion) I don't know what's the difference in the writing for these Characters or of there isn't any at all and I'm just being hateful in a way. What are your thoughts?

Ah, I think about this a lot. Thank you for thinking I’m interesting enough to answer this, also!

I think you’ve really hit the nail on the head with the writers doing a poor job at most of their female characters. However, I think it’s possible (and very common in this fandom) for people to dislike any character Spencer showed an interest in, which is also problematic and rooted in internalized misogyny. To me, it all comes down to why you dislike the characters.

(A LOT More Below - Bit of a Rant)

The first step I took when reflecting to see if this was my problem was rewatching and seeing which female characters I loved. Along with the ones you listed, I also found a number of side characters I greatly enjoyed, including Lila, Austin, Dr. Linda Kamura (from Amplification, the anthrax episode), Einstein, Megan Kane, and a few other random case characters. So, right off the bat I found multiple characters who Spencer showed an affinity for. I also greatly enjoyed Cat’s character, although I found her to be underdeveloped in canon (Fanon has done a good job, IMO) and often contradictory in her character design.

If you didn’t like any of these women, and your reason is related purely to Spencer’s reactions to them, chances are you might be suffering from a bit of jealousy rather than improper character design - not that you need to like them all (or the ones that I like), but because they are all very different. You should, theoretically, find something to enjoy about at least one of them.

But the CM Writers have a TERRIBLE habit of writing women that are easy to hate.

There’s a bunch of controversy I see over Haley Hotchner, but the truth is that they wrote her to be hated. That was her sole purpose. Her character’s decisions were poorly thought out and she was shown to be malicious 80% of the time. This was intentional. She was written to personify the trope of the nagging housewife. If you dislike her, you have done nothing but follow the narrative.

That being said, you should also criticize why they wrote her this way. Because it didn’t make any sense. She married a prosecutor - a dangerous, time consuming job. She had Jack when she knew he was with the BAU. Why did she randomly change her tune? Why did she suddenly demand he gives up on his dreams that she was fully aware of for years? I’d argue they wrote it like this to further the narrative of “the wife who traps you with a child to force you to do what she wants” which is garbage writing. I wish people could look at the potential she had if they hadn’t written her like... that.

Maeve, I find, is problematic on multiple aspects and I’ve talked about it before. Her narrative was poorly thought out because as soon as they pitched the idea of a long-term love interest for Spencer, everyone (most notably Gubler) rejected it. They didn’t think it was necessary for his character, who already had a lot going on with the ignored plot lines of his drug addiction and mother.

There were multiple problems associated with her character that were never addressed. The fact she essentially just took advantage of a patient because she was bored, she seemed to “correct” his interests and show annoyance when he disagreed with her, she lied about having a fiance, she was shown to be considering breaking up with him... there’s a lot.

Her character is poorly written. It had a lot of potential, but they just kind of stopped caring once they decided to kill her off. She had more faults shown on screen than redeeming qualities. For many, they liked her because they see there was a potential that we’ll never see (fair). But for people like me, we interpret it as a idealized fantasy of what could have (but probably wouldn’t have) been, which is not healthy for Spencer.

JJ is an interesting character because you can feel the constant struggle between AJ Cook and the writers. They really sabotaged JJ at every step of the way. I’ll be honest and say that I think there are some reasons to hate JJ, but they aren’t the reasons I see most often. Almost all of the JJ hate I see is surrounding the idea that JJ is an evil, manipulative, jealous bitch. But.. she’s not. Even in Truth or Dare, when she pulls that asshole move that was wildly OOC for JJ (in my opinion), she isn’t shown to be jealous or cruel about it.

I think she’s the most likely target for people who’s hatred is driven from jealousy or disliking conventionally attractive women and assuming them to be bitchy by nature of looking “beautiful.” I think Lila Archer* also falls into this category.

But as I said, JJ was also written with a lot of flaws. I think it’s fair if you don’t like her character or the way she treats Spencer, but I also hope that you similarly criticize the whole team in the same way, and don’t just pity Spencer because he is smol uwu babie who needs protection.

(* Yet another reminder that I ask everyone to not message me about J Depp or Amber Heard. Reactive Abuse is an extreme trigger for me and I will block you if you try to get me to talk about it)

Seaver got a lot of hate based off one line of dialogue. I think it was a bad line. If they had left it out, there would be essentially no reason in my mind to dislike Seaver. I used to dislike her a lot, but the more I rewatch the show, the less she bothers me. She was just a young student who wanted to learn about her father/herself. She was MASSIVELY underdeveloped because they kicked her off just as quickly as they invited her in.

NO character was developed that quickly. Her scenes were a bit cringey and the plotlines were bad, and her character was mediocre. I don’t think she deserves the hate she gets. She is a lukewarm character.

I hate everything Max’s character represents. She was introduced to show that Spencer could be trained to be “normal” and it’s anti-autistic bullshit. She had no personality besides “I hate my low-brow job as a teacher and couldn’t be fucked to change it until a man told me I was smart.” She was cracking high-school-clique jokes while her family was about to be murdered. She immediately abandoned said family to make out with her boyfriend who just admitted to enjoying kissing the woman who tried to murder her family.

Her character makes absolutely zero sense. I do not understand how she is so liked. I really don’t (other than the fact that RLC is absolutely wonderful).

If they had left her character out, I think we would have been better off for it. We could have seen Spencer wrestle with defining himself by the women in his life and learning to love himself (without just replacing those women with... another... woman...)

That being said, those who cling to Max for hope of a happy ending for Spencer... I felt that. Fanon and fanfic can solve all character deficiencies. I believe in you.

So, yeah. I’d say if you’re worried about why you dislike women characters, you’re probably on the right path. I’d just reflect on why you dislike the characters you do and whether they are written as misogynistic stereotypes. It makes complete sense to reject characters written for the purpose of making you hate them, but we should all pour one out for the brilliant actresses that had characters with so much potential if not for men ruining it.

[jpegjade]

Confessions - Spencer Reid

frens and ferns, IM OUT OF SCHOOL FOR A MONTH. so here’s a new fic about something i’ve been struggling with lately...

summary: With emily gone, Spencer is having a hard time coping with her death. After a little prodding, he finds comfort in y/n, who is struggling with their own demons.

gender: neutral (i think. i tried not to point to any gender terms so hopefully i did okay at it bc i dont feel like proofreading.)

Warnings: talk of addiction but nothing more

———

Getting home from a case was always, hard on you. There were days when it was harder to get up in the morning because of the physical and emotional toll the job put on your body. Ever since that un-sub broke your ankle, everything has been even harder.

“Y/L/N, nice to see you back." Morgan said as you exited the elevator.

“You too, D." You said, plastering a fake smile on your face. In truth, you wished that you were off for one more week but the world wasn't that kind to you.

The doors to the elevator were slowly closing when you heard Spencer shuffling quickly toward your direction.

Before you had the chance to throw your arm in the way of the elevator sensors, Spencer's slender body slipped through.

You were a newer member to the team. Well... You were the only new member to the team. Being a replacement for agent Emily Prentiss, the team getting to know you was a process. Derek trained you so he already knew what you were like in action but this was the first case the rest of the team saw you on.

The silence in the elevator was loud and thick with anticipation. Spencer was looking over at you in quick glances when he wasn't staring at his converse.

“You didn't press a number." Spencer said, barely loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh... I guess that explains why if felt like I was going nowhere." You chuckled at your joke and winced when you met Dr. Reid's blank gaze.

"Do you..." He paused.

Spencer shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. You continued staring but he dropped his gaze back to his shoes as if he hadn't started and dropped a question.

The elevator doors opened, showing an empty garage. The two of you gestured for the other to exit first but you ended up going first.

“Did you want to ask me something. Dr. Reid?" You said, watching him hesitate.

"Spencer." He said, ignoring the question. "My friends call me Spencer."

"I didn't think we were friends yet." You blankly. It wasn't meant to be funny but you couldn't help but smile.

“My team consists of my friends. As you are on my team, we're friends." Spencer's face never changed.

"Okay, Spencer." You looked at him. If you weren't so worried about getting home, you would've indulged in the moment. But all you wanted to do right now was be alone with some pizza and take the edge off from today.

"If that's all..." You tried to close the interaction with him by taking a few steps back but Spencer took just as many slow steps forward.

"Actually," Spencer began, "how do you do it?"

You faked a chuckle. "Do what?"

“Hide your addiction so well." Spencer was so pointblank sometimes.

"What are you talking about?" You tried to control the beads of sweat that threatened to pool.

"Everybody knows.” It's your ankle that started the painkillers and you couldn't stop. It took you away from the pain, the humiliation.

“How could you be so stupid as to get caught? You're even dumber for finding solice in the feeling when you've got all of this support around you? You've got a family who..." Spencer trailed off.

Your head was still reeling from the beginning of his statement. Everyone knew... But how could that be? It wasn't obvious but something was off about the distant look in Spencer's eyes. It was like he wasn't looking or talking to you. The anger laced in his tone wasn't for you...

“Spencer," you took a step towards him, "Are you talking about you?" Spencer stopped talking. You weren't used to seeing him so quiet.

"It's been a while." Spencer looked down at his converse. "Emily was there. When it got bad, I would cuddle up with her cat on her couch and try to forget the thoughts. She wouldn't make me feel like a burden at 2 a.m., when I was screaming myself awake. She always told me to stay as long as I needed, even when I was positive she was fed up with me. I wish I believed her. I wish I stayed." Spencer tapered off into silence, sniffling.

A pipe dripping. Footsteps in the stairwell. A car alarm chirping. All of those things sounded louder than they normally would. This wasn't Spencer cornering you. This was a confused and hurting boy that was begging for help. He just didn't know how to say what he needed right now.

“Do you..." You started but stopped because it didn't feel right.

Where do you start with someone who is just like you: broken, hurting, and alone.

How do you comfort someone without enabling them to do something destructive that might make everything worse?

How do you avoid hurting someone when all you wanted to do was hurt yourself, in a way.

"Do you like pancakes?" You asked, startling him out of his thoughts. "Pancakes? Sure." Spencer slowly lifted his head and shrugged.

You started walking to your car, motioning for Spencer to follow.

The car ride with Spencer was filled with silence. The whole time, you were thinking about ways to explain the situation to Spencer without making it worse. Spencer was trying to decide if talking to you was a good idea after all, considering you were taking him somewhere pancake related.

Pulling up to the run-down diner, you looked over at Spencer, who was staring out the window.

"I promise the pancakes are better than the place looks." You chuckled, getting Spencer's attention.

"I wasn't really worried about the taste of the pancakes..." Spencer trailed off.

"Good, I guess." You said, a little bit defeated.

You and Spencer walked into the diner, where you were greeted by a friendly older woman named Janice. She knew your name by heart, since you were a regular, and she seated you at your normal booth.

"Actually, would you mind seating us at 12? This is Spencer, the guy I've told you about..." You blushed, hoping you said everything low enough for Spencer not to notice. His mind was elsewhere so he wasn't listening as he normally would. A part of you was grateful for that.

Janice did a once-over at Spencer, softly grinning, and brought you to table 12.

Despite the outside looking dingy, the inside of the diner was cleaner than Spencer thought it would be. He wasn't really fond of booths but these weren't the pillow seat booths where children could hide things between the bottom seat and the backrest. This was the plastic seats that hurt your butt after a little while. But what he noticed that was different about the seating at the table was that one half was a booth and the other half consisted of two four-legged chairs.

"I know you don't like the germs in booth seats so I figured this would be a better option." You said, unable to meet his eyes.

Spencer was shocked as you slid into the booth seat, avoiding his eyes. Spencer pulled out his chair, temporarily distracted by the fact that he never mentioned how much he hates booth seats. You paid attention and noticed that about him. What else had you noticed?

"So..." Spencer folded his hands in his lap nervously.

"Let's order and then we'll talk." You said, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Placing your orders, you went with your usual breakfast at midnight and he just ordered the same thing you ordered.

"It'll be good, I promise." You said, giving him a small smile.

"You never answered my question." Spencer said, looking up at you.

"I know." You were getting nervous again. The nerves hadn't stopped since Spencer asked that question in the parking lot but you were trying really hard to find an answer to it.

"How do you do it?" Spencer asked again.

"Spencer, it's not that simple. I can't give you an answer like that over something so complex. Why do you want to know?" You asked, trying to focus on meeting his eyes.

Spencer's gaze was intense when he wanted it to be so you settled for staring at the tip of his nose.

"I'm struggling, y/n. Emily was... She was family to me. If Hotch is the dad, Rossi is the cool uncle, JJ is the mom, Derek is the older brother, and Emily is..." Spencer's voice caught in his throat. "Was the big sister. I lost a sister the day she died and I'm lost without her."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry..." You said, wanting to hug him.

A tear slipped down Spencer's face as you watched him frustratedly wipe it away.

"It's not fair, you know?" Spencer continued. "I survived the worst days of my life. I got to live after experiencing torture and she didn't do anything but fall in love with someone who wasn't..."

There was a moment of silence as you let Spencer get his feelings out. While the two of you said nothing, Janice brought your food and drinks to your table. She must have sensed the tension between you and Spencer because once you thanked her, she didn't hover or make additional conversation.

"It just hurts and I don't... I don't want to feel it. I just want to escape the constant pain and be happy again, just for a little while. It doesn't have to stay forever but I don't want this pain to hurt like this for now." Spencer cut into his pancakes, taking a bite. His face changed into something of contentment.

"I come here when I have a... I guess you could say craving." You started, "Carbs and sugar are good for the itching feeling you get when you really need a fix."

A moment passed as the two of you enjoyed the food in front of you. After downing half of your food, you decided to speak again.

"What's your drug of choice, if you don't mind me asking?" You quietly said, your eyes staying trained on the way your butterknife slowly cut into your pancakes.

"Dilaudid." Spencer was so upfront about it. You thought you would have to pull it out of him but he made your job easier.

"Ah... Opioids are a bitch to kick. Controlled substance so I won't ask how you got it but I understand it's not easy. There was this study we had to do in training. This one agent got captured and tortured and the BAU had to watch as he was drugged, tortured, and almost died... I guess you would know them, right?" You asked, trying to figure out which team member it was.

"That was me." Again, Spencer being upfront.

"Oh...Spencer, I'm so sorry... I didn't know." You were remorseful, you shouldn't have brought it up.

"That's where it began. I begged for him not to do it the first time, not wanting the drugs. But after that? After the torture and pain and... Everything? I craved that release. And even after he died, I just wanted to get away from all of the stress in life. Feel warmth in my veins, mentally zoning out for just long enough to reset my mind and be reminded that there was something good in the world..." Spencer looked over your shoulder but his eyes weren't fixed on a particular spot.

That's the thing about being an addict... You don't realize how much it hurts to be alive until the high sends you crashing back down. And, especially in our line of work, all you want is to stay up for as long as possible because the horrors of reality will tear you apart..." You finished.

Spencer's attention came back to you as you spoke, making you a little uncomfortable. You couldn't meet his eyes.

"I went to a couple meetings in the past." Spencer said, thinking about his experiences there. "I didn't feel like I belonged. I have a good life. Stable job. I'm fortunate enough to have a roof over my head. My mom is taken care of by capable people. I don't have to worry about anything. And the guys there? They're struggling in many cases. They're fighting for the things I take for granted and I didn't know how I could stand to be in the same room with my privileges and pretend like my problem was important..." Spencer trailed off.

"Spencer, your addiction is valid." You were finally able to look him in the eyes and emphasize your point.

"Is it, though?" Spencer stared back at you, a challenging tone laced his voice.

"It's not fun..." You started, unable to look at Spencer any longer. "I don't do it for fun or because I want to stay high. I don't do it for the feeling it gives me. I do it because I feel like I have to."

"What do you mean?" Spencer tilted his head like a puppy who was trying to understand a new word.

"After I broke my ankle, I was prescribed these... Off brand pills. They didn't really help unless I snorted them. And even then, they didn't help my ankle or me. So I found something stronger. A friend of mine is a doctor and when I go to see him, I'm able to... I guess manipulate him into giving me the good stuff, the stuff that makes my thoughts slow down, calms the voice, gives me a sense of peace and not this constant anxiety." You said, hands tapping the table.

"Oh..." Spencer said, taking in what you were saying.

"I'm an addict not for pleasure but for pain. And my struggle is no greater or lesser than yours." You said, fingers still tapping away. "I struggle, like you, except the difference is I'm newer to the team so they don't know what it's like to see me in my chaotic neutral state. What did you do when you had cravings before? You must have been clean for a couple years now, right?"

"I went to Emily... I always went to Emily. I play back these moments when I snapped at her for wanting to help and I wish I just..." Once again, Spencer's voice was caught in his throat.

"She was your safe space when you felt like you couldn't turn to anyone else." You said, understanding. "You don't have to be romantically inclined to have a safe space with someone. It's whomever you find solace in, for any reason under and over the sun."

"I wouldn't feel this way if she were here..." Spencer said, more to himself as if he were trying to be convincing.

"Spencer, you have to be honest with yourself. If it wasn't this, it would be something else. And that something else might not have landed you with someone who was willing to assist you in your recovery to stay clean." You said, finishing your pancakes.

"What?" Spencer did a double take. No one had ever offered to help him. He always had to be the first to make the move but even then, everyone was reluctant to take on the responsibility of Spencer.

"Isn't there an unspoken rule about addicts not being with each other?" Spencer asked, genuinely concerned.

He hoped not because he would love to have someone he could finally confide in, someone who wouldn't make him feel like a burden.

"No, that's about addicts not dating each other. But I think that as friends, we can understand each other in ways others cant. We can fight together. Have you notiiced the craving is gone, for the most part?" You asked, sure that Spencers single slice would be gone in a moment.

"Okay. Deal. We can confide in one another and maybe it'll help us get a grip on reality when we feel ourselves slipping.”

“Okay.”

—

taglist: @goldentournesol @averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

[noladyme]

Spencer Reid: Pretty Ugly - part 3

TW: liberal use of incorrect legal terms and titles, fluff, blood, violence, death, slooooow burn. I've poured a little of myself into this one. so am quite vulnerable about it. Be kind ;-)

Annabel Leigh joins the BAU on her first case. Thrown straight in to her role as unit assistant, she struggles to keep focused when she has to work closely with the Scarecrow to her Dorothy; Spencer Reid.

Set in season 9

3.

The room beyond the two-way mirror facing the interrogation-room was dimly lit, to not give away who was watching. I went to stand by the back wall anyway, feeling creeped out by lurking on the monster sitting waiting on the other side of the wall.

Hotchner stood with his arms crossed in the middle of the room. He looked back at me; something like a smile on his lips. “The make-up… That was your own touch”, he said. “He said women should wear less make-up. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do”, I replied. “You were provoking him…”, Hotchner said. “Good idea”. Morgan and Spencer walked closer to the window. “He’s too calm. He doesn’t think we can hold him”, Spencer said. “And he hasn’t lawyered up”, Morgan said.

JJ entered the room with Blake. “I don’t know. I just think a little lift, right around my neck…”, Blake said, her voice sounding mechanical in the tiny speaker connected to the room. “And these bags under my eyes. Sheesh…”. “I get where you’re coming from. After a full year of breast-feeding, I seriously considered a lift to the ladies”, JJ said. Hoffmann’s eyes flickered between the two agents. “Do you think you could help us with that, Dr. Hoffmann?”, Blake asked. “Do some of your magic on us?”. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about”, the dentist replied.

“Why isn’t he protesting being here? If he wanted us to think he’s not guilty, he’d be yelling and screaming; proclaiming his innocence”, Morgan said. “You’re right. He doesn’t think we have anything on him”, Spencer said. I took a step closer to the three agents, to get a better look. “Well, we don’t have anything solid”, Hotchner said.

“Oh?”, JJ said, and began spreading out pictures of the victims before their operations, on the table. Hoffmann gave them a short look, and I could swear I saw his pupils dilate. “Why are you showing me these?”, he asked. “Right, sorry. I guess you recognize them better like this”, Blake said, and spread out two other pictures; these ones depicting the dead victims post-op. “Aren’t you missing one?”, Hoffmann said. “You have three pictures there, but only two here…”, he added. His mouth was slightly opened, and he licked his lips.

“He’s getting off on them…”, I said. “Take them away from him”. “We need to push him. He might make a mistake, and accidentally say something we can use”, Morgan said. “But you’re using the victims at their most vulnerable state!”, I said. Spencer gave me a short look, almost apologetically. “They’re dead”, Hotchner said. “And if we have to let that monster back on the streets, he might kill someone else. We have to protect any possible future victims”. “Well, who will protect Carly and Karen?”, I growled. Spencer took a step backwards to stand next to me. “Annabel, Hotch is right. Karen and Carly are both dead. We can’t do anything for them, except for one thing. Take down their killer”. He turned his face, and looked down at me; clearly seeing my frustrated expression. I was boiling with rage inside. “I know this method seems cold; but I honestly think both women would want to be a part of putting Hoffmann in prison, whatever it takes”. I swallowed thickly, and nodded. He was right, after all. Had it been me, I would want to help too. It just irked me that the victims had no say in what was happening.

“Well, Hanna survived”, JJ said from the other side of the mirror. “But you knew that. I should almost say congratulations. You finally managed to get one of your patients to make it through surgery”. “I’m a dentist”, Hoffmann enthused. “The closest thing I get to surgery, is pulling out wisdom-teeth… But good for her. That other agent told me she got a new set of breasts”. His smile was strangely proud, and I swallowed bile. “Oh the real surgeon took those out”, Blake said. “She’ll probably need more surgery, though. Might want to see if the doctors can fix the damage you did”. “Maybe even get a set that matches”, JJ said. Hoffmann clenched his jaw, looking almost disgusted. “Well, good for her…”, he grunted. “Are we done here? I told you, I have nothing to do with this; and I actually have somewhere to be”. “At this time of night? Where?”, Blake asked. “You don’t have a family to go home to; your wife left you”. Hoffmann scoffed audibly. “Even the reporters outside realized you’re woth not wasting time on”, Blake continued. “That’s because you wouldn’t give them a statement!”, Hoffmann said.  “Well, do you want to give them one? Tell them what we took you in for?”, JJ asked. “You could have your face on the morning news, as a suspect. I don’t know what it would do to your business, though”. “Alright, I’m done”, Hoffmann growled. He looked down at his watch, and swallowed thickly. “You have nothing on me, and my appointment can’t wait…”. “You still didn’t tell us where you’re going”, Blake said. “Because it’s none of your business”, the dentist said.

“If he gets up now, we can’t stop him”, Hotchner said. “We could have him tailed”, Morgan said. “Make sure he doesn’t go after someone else… Of course, that isn’t a permanent solution”. “No, it’s not”, Hotchner agreed. There was an urgency to both of the agents’ tones. We were running out of time.

Hoffmann got up to stand. “We’re done here. I have things to do”. He looked at his watch again.

“He’s right” Morgan said. “We have nothing concrete to hold him on; he has nothing to worry about”. “He should be focused on those pictures. The payoff from his work”, Hotchner said. “Why isn’t he relishing in his results?”. “Well, Blake did just tell him that his last victim had the implants removed”, Spencer said. “His work was destroyed”. “I don’t think that’s it”, Hotchner said. “He reacted provoked, yes; but he didn’t get up, until they told him he had nowhere to go… we need to figure out where he might have held his victims”.

He dug out his phone, and called up Penelope; putting her on speaker. “Garcia, we need all information of properties registered to John Hoffmann”, he said. “Uhm… John Hoffmann, 43. His wife lives in the house, since their separation thirteen months ago, and his apartment is a rental. No other property”. Garcia was typing rapidly, from the sound of all the clicking I could hear.

“What about his clinic? Is there any property registered to his company accounts?”, Hotchner asked. “Uhm… No luck. Unless you count a bowrider he registered as a business-related expense. I’m sure the IRS will have a hey-day with that”. “Keep looking, Garcia”, Morgan said. “Will do”, Penelope said, and hung up.

“Wasn’t Judy Hoffmann coming in for an interview?”, Hotchner said. “We need to find out if there are other places, he might hold the victims”. “I’ll call her again”, I said, and redialed Hoffmann’s ex-wife. She let it ring multiple times, before picking up. “I saw the news! Did you arrest him? Is he there?”, she exclaimed, before I had a chance to say anything. “Judy, you will be perfectly safe if you come in. There are FBI-agents and police here to protect you. I promise…”, I tried. “No! I’m not going there, where everyone can see...”. She halted herself. “If you want to talk to me, you can come meet me”. “I can have officers at your house…”, I began. “No, you! I don’t want… I don’t want some police-officer to see…”. I covered the mic on my phone and looked at Hotchner. “She won’t come in. And she’ll only talk to me”, I said. “You can’t go alone; you’re not an agent. Morgan and Reid…”, he said. The two agents nodded, and I uncovered my phone. “Judy, I will come see you; but I can’t come alone. I’m bringing two agents with me”, I said. “I said, just you”, the woman growled. I tried to calm my voice. “I understand that you’re worried. Maybe John did something to you, and you’re afraid that letting someone see will…”. “We’re done”, she said. “No, Judy! Listen… No one has to look at you, ok? We just need to talk to you”. There was another pause before she spoke again. “Alright… but just the three of you”, she said. “My house”. She hung up the call, and I blew out an exasperated breath.

Spencer gave me an encouraging smile. “Let’s go”.

---

The house was dark when we arrived. Morgan – who had done the driving this time – parked by the curb. “You’re going to need to be calm when you talk to her”, he said to me. “She’s clearly terrified of her ex, and you need to reinsure her that she’s going to be safe”. “I can’t talk to her… You heard Hotchner; I’m not an agent”, I said. “You did great with Hoffmann, at his office. And she seems to trust you, Annabel”, Spencer said, turning to look at me as I sat in the back. “Just be yourself. You’re easy to talk to”. I noticed Morgan smirking a bit, and bit my lip nervously. “We’ll be right there with you, Abbie”, he said.

We got out, and approached the house. It was modern and had probably cost the dentist a pretty penny to buy. I pulled my jacket closed around me, and took a nervous breath, before ringing the doorbell. A light went on above us, and I saw one of the curtains move a bit. “Judy? It’s me, UA Leigh… Abbie… Let us in”. The door opened slightly, and footsteps shuffled just beyond it. “The living room. To the right… Please don’t turn on the lights”, I heard Judy call from inside.

We moved into the darkness; both Spencer’s and Morgan’s hands hovering over their gun holsters. “Judy?”, I called out, and moved in the direction she’d told us to go. The living room was almost as dark as the rest of the house, though there was a floor-lamp turned on by a couch in the middle of it. A slight figure sat in a chair a little way off. “Please sit down”, the figure said. I did as I was told. “Judy, this is doctor Spencer Reid, the agent who spoke to you on the phone earlier; and agent Morgan”, I said. Morgan moved to sit next to me. “Mrs. Hoffmann. We’d like to ask…”. “I said I’d talk to her”, Judy said. “You two can wait outside”. “We can’t do that, Mrs. Hoffmann”, Spencer said. He began moving closer. “We have to…”. “Don’t come closer!”, Judy exclaimed.

I held up a hand to halt Spencer. “They don’t get it”, I said. “The way it feels when you have to look a certain way, just to be able to bear others seeing you”. Judy shifted a little in her seat, and the light from the lamp ghosted her face. I shuddered, and clenched my fists to keep calm from what I thought I’d just seen. “You just want people to think you’re perfect”. “Mrs. Hoffmann, you don’t have to…”, Morgan began. Judy drew back in her chair, and I held up my hand again. “You’re safe, Judy… You don’t want to show yourself, that’s completely fine”, I said. “Just, please… Let the agents ask their questions”. “They won’t look at me?”, she asked almost in a whisper. “We won’t”, Spencer said. He shot Morgan a look, and they both averted their eyes to the floor.

Judy seemed to relax in her seat again. “Your ex-husband may be linked to some very serious crimes”, Morgan said. “We’re not divorced… And what crimes?”. Judy croaked. “We believe he kidnapped and operated on four women, to make them fit his beauty-ideal. So far, two of them have died”, Spencer said. “His ideal…”, Judy scoffed. “That’s a funny way of putting it”. “You don’t share his idea of beauty?”, Spencer asked. “It doesn’t matter what I think…”, Judy said. Morgan cleared his throat. “Why did you leave your ex?”, he asked. “Was it because of that?”. “I didn’t leave John… He left me”, Judy said. “I did everything I could to be the perfect wife, but it was never enough”. “He wanted you to look a certain way”, I said. I could see Judy nod in the shadows. “I would have changed whatever he asked me to”, she said. “I even…”. She sniffled, and reached for a handkerchief. “What, Judy?”, I asked; not really wanting the answer. She reached over to a lamp on the table by her chair, and turned it on. I drew in a short breath at the sight of her face.

Judy’s nose looked like it had been broken and replaced multiple times. Her upper lip was large and puffy, as if it was filled beyond what the stretched-out skin should be able to contain contain. I could also suddenly see why she’d shifted so uncomfortably, as her hips were much broader than what fit her slim frame. “He used you as practice”, Spencer said. She frowned, and quickly turned off the lamp again. “I did what any wife good should do. I loved and supported John. I worked out and kept fit; made sure this house was just perfect. But…”. She brought the handkerchief to her face, and I realized now it was to wipe her chin for drool, from her disformed mouth. “I’m not enough”. “The only thing that matters is how you see yourself”, I said. I thought I saw Judy’s face contort in disagreeing confusion. “If I’d just made him happy, no one would have had to die”, she rasped.

“Did John have any places he liked to go to, to be alone?”, Morgan asked. “I don’t…”. Judy shook her head. “He’d go from the office to home, every day. Only other place was his boat”. “Not big enough to perform the kind of surgery he’s been doing”, Spencer muttered. “John didn’t do this”, Judy said. “He is not like you think he is. If you’d just let me talk to him…”. “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around; you married the man after all”, Morgan said. “But John is a psychopath. He doesn’t care about any of those women, and he won’t care if you talk to him”. “Besides, you said you hadn’t spoken in a year”, I said. “That’s just because he’s stubborn. He wants me to show him how much I care. That I’ll be the wife he needs”. I shared knowing looks with the two agents. “He’s telling you the truth”, I said. “I met with John”. “You’ve seen him? Is he ok? Did he mention me?”, Judy asked, leaning forwards a bit. At the view of her cleavage, I suspected she’d been given implants there as well. “No, he didn’t. He was too busy commenting on how she looked, and how it didn’t fit with what he liked”, Spencer said. “That’s what he does, Mrs. Hoffmann. He cares about himself, and what he wants from other people”.

Morgan’s phone buzzed, and he stepped into the hallway to take the call. “Yeah, Hotch… No, nothing yet…”, I heard him mutter as he walked off.

“So, he looked at you… and he didn’t like what he saw?”, Judy asked. She wiped her chin again. “He’s not a good man, Judy”, I said. She covered her face with her hands, and seemed to begin crying. “Anything you can tell us…”, Spencer said. “Maybe we’ll even be able to prove that John didn’t do it”. Judy looked up, and nodded slightly.

Morgan reentered the room, still holding his phone. “Garcia found something…”, he muttered, and nodded his head for Spencer to follow. The two agents went into the hallway; leaving me alone with the crying woman. “Can I get you anything? Some water?”, I asked. “No… thank you”, she half-whispered. “What’s happening? Is John ok?”. “I don’t know”, I said, and looked towards the hallway. Spencer came back alone. “Mrs. Hoffmann, why didn’t you tell us your family owns a cabin at the north end of the reservoir?”, he asked. Judy sat up a little straighter. “I didn’t know it was relevant”, she said, an edge to her voice. “Does your ex-husband have keys to it?”, Spencer asked. “I told you. We’re not divorced!”, Judy sneered. “Does he have keys?”, Spencer demanded. “I don’t know. Y-yes, maybe…”, Judy stammered.

Morgan came back into the room, pocketing his phone. “They had to let Hoffmann go, but they’re putting a tail on him”, he said. “He’s cleared?”, Judy asked, her voice shaky. “Yes, but you don’t have to worry. Agent Reid and Abbie are going to stay here with you, and keep you safe. He won’t be able to get to you”. “John wouldn’t hurt me”, she said. Morgan gave Spencer a short look. “Still…”, he muttered. “Hotch wants me to meet up with the lieutenant, Hotchner and JJ. We’ll go to the cabin to check it out. It might be his destination”. “He won’t go there!”, Judy enthused. “Someone will pick you up”, Morgan said to Spencer, ignoring the woman. He rushed out of the room, and I soon heard the front door close.

Judy got up, and began pacing the floor. It was a strange sight as she turned. Her bottom was mostly flat, but as her hips were broad, she reminded me of a frail paper doll, from the chest down. “Maybe you should sit down again”, I said. “This is a lot to take in”. “No… no, I’m fine”, she said. “I just want this to be over”.

I saw headlights move down the street, and figured it was Morgan driving away. Judy looked in the same direction, and then at Spencer. “I’d appreciate that glass of water now”, she said. “Of course…”, he said empathetically. Judy turned on the light by her chair again, and went to stand so that we could see her. “I’m going to need a straw…”, she said, and gestured towards her large upper lip. “I’ll get you one”, Spencer smiled, and headed in the direction I figured the kitchen might be.

Judy walked over to the fireplace, and picked up a picture frame. I got up, and walked over to stand next to her. It was the same picture she’d posted on her Facebook, all those years ago. “We met when I took a job as a dental hygienist with him; years ago… I love him… I know he’s not perfect, but I love him so much”, she breathed. “It’ll be ok”, I muttered, not knowing what else to say. “We’ll be ok”, Judy said, her strange lip pulling upwards in a smile.

Spencer cleared his throat from the doorway. “Mrs. Hoffmann? I can’t seem to find a straw”, he said. “Oh… I think I have some by the fridge in the garage”, Judy replied, handed me the photo, and began moving towards him. She halted suddenly, and began massaging her enlarged hips. “I’m sorry. I don’t move very fast”, she sighed. Spencer held up his hands to stop her. “It’s fine. I’m sure I can find them”, he said, and left the room again.

I took another look at the picture in my hands. The younger John Hoffmann’s lips were spread in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, while Judy was looking up at her husband like he literally put the stars in the sky. I could see why she was attracted to him. He was handsome and rich. Yet, I didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how deranged he was. His eyes were cold, and the way his arm was draped around her, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but there. Their love was one-sided, that was clear. “It was such a beautiful day… I spent three months on a juice-diet to fit into that dress, by the way”, Judy said, as she came up behind me again. “Ouch… That must have been hard”, I said. “No… Not when it meant I would look perfect, for my perfect husband-to-be”, she sighed. “Did he appreciate it?”, I asked, knowing the true answer would be no. “He was never much for compliments…”, Judy said. “He showed his love in other ways”. “How?”. “John helped me become a woman suited for him”, she said. “He knew I would be happy, when he was. So, he showed me how to make him happy ". “By performing surgery on you? Judy… You have to know that’s not love”, I said. She shook her head exasperatedly. “You wouldn’t understand”, she said.

My phone buzzed, and I dug it out of my pocket, to see Garcia’s name light up the screen. “I have to take this”, I muttered, and handed her back the picture. “Penelope? What’s up?”. “Did Morgan leave already?”, she asked. “Yeah, like five minutes ago. Why?”. “I looked up Judy Hoffmann’s records, after it turned out she didn’t tell you guys about the cabin. All that surgery she had?”. “Morgan told you about that, huh…”, I muttered. “Yes, he did. You should know, I have records of her husband bringing her in to the hospital multiple times, with fractures to her nose. Every time the doctors wanted to reset it, she would be the one to refuse”. I looked over my shoulder at Judy, who stood stroking the image of her husband. “Well, she wanted to make her husband happy; so she probably didn’t want it to look like it had before”. “That’s not all, though… Those implants; he didn’t give her those. She actually went to a plastic surgeon to have them done”. My heart dropped. “She did?”. “Uh huh… But the last time she tried to have work done, the doctor refused; saying her body couldn’t take another surgery”. I looked towards the doorway. It was taking Spencer a long time to get those straws. “Penelope… I think you should send someone back to the house”, I said quietly. “Is everything ok? Where’s Reid?”. “I don’t know… Just send someone”, I whispered. “Right away”, Penelope said shortly, and hung up.

I turned to look at Judy again. “Maybe I should go help him find those straws…”, I said as calmly as I could. “Oh, he probably found them”, she said. “But he can’t get back inside. The door to the garage is a single cylinder lock”. I heard bumps coming from somewhere further inside the house, and figured Spencer was trying to get out of the garage. I backed towards the doorway. “Then I should open the door for him”, I said. Judy picked up a fire-poker, and began moving towards me. “No. I don’t think so. He probably also found some other things out there, so he knows what I did to those women”. I held my hands in front of me. “Judy, I…”. “You know, I saw you on tv too… after you called me that first time”, she said, and took another step towards me. I looked over my shoulder for something to defend myself with. “Your nose leans slightly to the left, did you know that?”. “I’ve been told”, I croaked. “John likes it when things are a little off… He always wanted his clothes, his car and his house to be perfect; but his women…”. She sighed. “I would have gladly gone through a million more surgeries, if it would only make him happy; but the doctors said no…”. “So, he left you”, I said. Judy nodded. “I just wanted to make him happy, and have him back. So, I made him gifts”. “You put those implants in those women…”, I said. “In Karen… You knew Karen, didn’t you…?”. The bumping against the door to the garage continued. “You were making her as a gift for him”. “He’d have her with him at the office, and then he could come home to me; ready to show me love again”, Judy said. “But she didn’t pull through…”.

I sprang for the door, but much quicker than I’d thought her able to, Judy jumped at me, and swung the fire-poke. She hit my thigh, and I yelped as white, hot pain spread from the impact. I fell to the floor, and she was on me, pointing the sharp end to my throat. I grabbed her wrists, to keep from her impaling my trachea.  The bang of a gunshot rang though the house, and I heard footsteps running towards us. “Put down the weapon, Judy. You don’t want to do this”, Spencer exclaimed. He must have shot his way out of the garage; and was standing with his gun aimed at the deranged woman. Judy sat straddling me, struggling against my hold. My arms were beginning to strain from the force of her strength, and I felt fear rushing through me. “I just need this last one”, she said. “He’ll know it was for him. He’ll love me again!”. “That’s not how it works. You know that”, Spencer said. “I can’t hold her…”, I whimpered. Spencer swallowed thickly, and his eyes flickered towards me, before looking at her again. “Judy, John is on his way to the police-station again. He heard what you did for him, and he wants to talk to you”, he said. “Really?”, Judy croaked. “Yes… He’ll meet you there”. Judy shook her head, but the pressure of her arms let down a bit. “You’re lying”, she said. Spencer looked at me again. “Rule number one. The Doctor never lies”, he said. My lips parted, and I drew in a short breath. “You can call them. Please. Take her phone, and call the last number on it”.

Judy looked down at me, and released the poke with one hand, to reach for my pocket. Spencer’s eyes locked on mine. “Geronimo…”, he said. I swung my body to the side, and Judy fell off me. Spencer fired a shot, which hit her arm, and she dropped the poke on the floor. I kicked it away, and he ran over to handcuff the screaming woman. “John! I want to see John!”, she squealed.

The front door sprang open, and officers flooded the room, along with Morgan, JJ and Hotchner. Spencer ran over to me, and put his arm around my waist to help me up. The pain in my leg was throbbing, but with his help, I managed to get over to the couch, and sit down. “Are you ok?”, he asked, placing his hand on my leg, to check for a wound. “She got a blow in, but I’ll be fine”, I groaned. “I don’t think it’s broken”, he muttered, as he squeezed my thigh. I hissed, and he drew back. “I’m sorry…”. “You got the quote wrong”, I said. “Rule number one. The Doctor lies”. “It wouldn’t have made sense to say that”, Spencer said. “And you caught my meaning”. I chuckled a little, and a smile ghosted his face.

“We need a medic!”, Hotchner called out, after having gone over to check on Judy. He walked towards where I was seated, and looked down at my leg. I tried to sit up a little straighter, but another jolt of pain went through me. “Two of them”, he added. “I’m fine. It’s just a bruise”, I said. “We need to make sure…”, he said. “Really, I just gotta walk it off”, I insisted, and tried to get to my feet. I almost fell over, and Spencer grabbed my hands, to keep me standing. “There’s an ambulance outside, just let one of the paramedics have a look”, JJ said from behind Hotchner. Morgan was leading the still struggling Judy out of the door. “She needs it more than I do”, I said. “That, and a psychiatrist”. “You’re seeing a doctor, and then you’ll meet us on the plane, to go back to Quantico; is that understood?”, Hotchner said shortly. “She needs to give a statement”, JJ said. “She can do that at the hospital. You go with her. We’ll finish up at the precinct”, he said, and went in the same direction as Morgan. “Reid…”, he called over his shoulder. Spencer’s lips twitched, as if he was trying to give me a smile; and hurried after the others.

“I guess my trial-period is over”, I muttered. JJ squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s go…”.

---

My ears were ringing from lift-off, and my leg was throbbing. The painkillers the doctor had given me at the hospital hadn’t quite done their work yet; but at least I’d gotten off easy with nothing but some bad bruising and swelling. I sunk into my seat, pulled my cardigan tighter around me, and looked out of the window of the plane. The sun was rising, and it was a strange sight to see it emerge over the clouds. A mug of coffee was set down in front of me, and Spencer sat down in the seat across from me. “I don’t think I should have any more caffeine. I already drained Nebraska”, I said. “It’s decaf”, he said. “Bleh…”, I winced.

He chuckled a little, before his expression grew sullen. “What’s wrong?”, I asked. “I should never have left the room”, he said. “I don’t blame you… And I’m fine, really. It’s just a bruise”, I said. “Well, I blame me. If I hadn’t left you alone…”. He frowned deeply, and his jaw clenched. “You… we didn’t know it was her”, I said. “And you did save me in the end. In the coolest way ever”. His lips twitched into a smile. “It was kind of cool”, he said. “But I still should have…” “Never blame yourself for the actions of someone else”, I said. “Different doctor, but still a good quote”.

We sat for a long moment in silence. “What’s going to happen to Judy and John?”, I asked. “She’ll go to jail, or possibly a psychiatric institution”, he replied. “Where did she find her victims?”. “She’d gone doctor-shopping, to try to get them to do more surgery on her”, he said. “She’d seen the two of them at the different clinics, and she knew about Karen from how John had talked about her back when they lived together... The operations were actually performed in that cabin her family has, so we got that right”. “What about him? The man is a monster”, I shuddered. “True. But he hasn’t acted on it, so there’s nothing to charge him with”. “So, he’ll just go on like nothing happened?”. Spencer shook his head. “The press found out his name. His reputation is ruined, even though he didn’t do anything”. “Yet…”, I said. “Won’t losing his rep make him dangerous? He’s crazy”. “If it does, we’ll be back to stop him”, Spencer said confidently. “I’m sure you will”, I muttered, and looked out of the window again.

“Annabel?”, Spencer said. I looked back at him. “Do you mind… Can I ask you what happened to you? If you don’t want to share, I completely understand”. “W-what?”, I squeaked, suddenly anxious. “Something happened to you, to put you where you are today… With us, and the BAU”, he said. “You reaction to the smell of bleach; the way you explained to Rossi your reason for wanting to work in law enforcement... You didn’t say a word about the criminals, and how they need to be punished. You didn’t even mention justice for the victims; you were just focused on keeping them safe. Tells me you felt unsafe yourself, at some point. You did it again, during Hoffmann’s questioning. You were so focused on protecting the victims”. He halted himself, when he saw my expression. “I’m sorry, I overstepped”, he said apologetically. “No, you… You’re just a good profiler”, I said. “You don’t have to tell me…”, he began. “I want to. It’s just… It’s not a fun story”. “I had some pretty bad things happen to me. Talking to my friends made it easier to deal with”, Spencer said. I met his eyes hesitantly, and found nothing but kindness and a genuine want to help in them.

I leaned back in my seat, and sighed; looking down at my hands. They were shaking. “When I was four, I was playing outside, when a man took me…”, I said. “I don’t remember much, other than a dark room, that smelled like dust and bleach. And I was scared… so scared”. I swallowed thickly, and when I looked at him again, I saw that he did too. His eyes were sad, but I didn’t feel like he was looking at me in pity; which helped me to continue. “My mom found me about an hour later, in the back room of a laundromat down the street. My parents called the cops, but when they showed up, they just said that the man was already known to them; and that he was harmless. He’d probably just wanted to take me for an ice-cream… The doctor said I showed no signs of abuse; and I honestly don’t remember him touching me, but…”. I couldn’t finish the sentence. “I think I was lucky my mom found me when she did”. I cleared my throat, and took a sip of the coffee, wincing at the taste. “You were lucky”, Spencer said. “You know, we use this thing, called a cognitive interview… Using the memory of smells and sounds, you can sometimes remember more than you though you did…”. “I don’t want to remember… I don’t need to”, I cut him off. “We found out later that the guy was a patient at a mental institution. I don’t know if he was there because he was a pedophile, or mentally impaired, and really did just want to… play with me”. I bit my lip a little. “All I know is the police did nothing to find out what had happened, or how he got out… And they didn’t bother to have me checked out; my parents had to do that themselves… I was scared, and the people meant to protect and take care of me – the police or the FBI, or whoever… didn’t”. “So you decided to take a job, where you could help make sure that didn’t happen to someone else”, Spencer said quietly. I nodded, and quickly wiped my eye for a stray tear. Spencer reached for a handkerchief in his pocket, and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed as I took it, and I felt warmth stream through me. “Thanks…”, I muttered, and wiped my eyes again.

“You did help back there. With Judy”, he said. “Doesn’t take away how I messed up…”, I said. “You didn’t mess up”, he tried. “I didn’t call in witnesses; I spoke out of turn; I was unprofessional with the…”. “You also helped us figure out how Hoffmann was linked to the victims”, Spencer said. “But he wasn’t the one to hurt those women”, I said. “Still. We wouldn’t have found the connection as fast; which brought us to his wife”. He gave me another warm smile. “You helped. You made sure no one else will be hurt by her”.

I’ll miss you most of all, Scarecrow, I thought to myself.

“Thank you, Spencer. I think I’m going to try to get some sleep”, I said. “Ok… If you need anything, let me know”, he said. “You should rest your leg”. I nodded with a slight smile.

When he got up to walk past me, I noticed his hand hovering over my shoulder. He made a fist, and pulled his hand away, before going over to sit next to Blake. I leaned my head against the wall, closed my eyes, and pretended to fall asleep.

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I was seated in Hotchner’s office again; my hands shaking, and my heart racing. I hadn’t gotten any sleep yet, and my body was fueled by yet another gallon of coffee – not decaf. At least this time, I was wearing something more comfortable; which helped a little, seeing as I was about to get fired only twenty-four hours after having gotten the job.

Hotchner stepped into the office, with a file in his hands. He looked as tired as I felt, but carried himself with quite a lot more dignity than me. He sat down in his chair, and placed the folder on the desk. “I just want to thank you for the opportunity you gave me, to go with you”, I said. “I learned a lot, and I’ll take it with me in the future”. “Good. I know you did your best to impress me and the team, and I appreciate the fact that you had the victim’s best in mind”, Hotchner proclaimed. “That said…”. “I overstepped… more than once”, I said. “And I didn’t contact the families of the victims, when I should have”. “You’re also inclined to interrupt”, Hotchner cut in. “Sorry… sir”, I muttered.

He sighed, and folded his hands on the table. “This team is made out of extraordinary, exceptional, and – some would say – unconventional individuals; who each know how to use their strengths and flaws to their advantage, in solving cases, that to others in law-enforcement are unsolvable”. He raised his brows at me, and inclined his head. “But even we fall short sometimes; because we’re just human. Sometimes we need a fresh set of eyes, to help us along. You were those eyes in this case. Thank you”. “You’re… welcome?”, I said bewilderedly. “You’re not an agent, and you’re not a profiler…”, he began. “I know, sir. I’m…”. He held up his hands to halt me. “Let me finish”, he said. I closed my mouth, and clenched my jaw to keep from speaking. “But you’re a good UA, with great instincts that will help this team stay the best at what they do”. My jaw dropped. “You can speak now”, Hotchner said. “So… I’m not fired?”, I asked. “I would greatly appreciate it if you’d consider staying on with the BAU, as our full-time unit assistant”, he replied. “I’m… Yes. I would like that very much”.

“Good”, Hotchner said, and got up to stand. I followed his lead, and took his out-stretched hand to shake it. “Just one thing. Well, two actually”. “Anything”, I said. “I want you to take the bureau’s entry-level hand-to-hand combat course; so that you might be able to better protect yourself in the future. I read your medical files from Nebraska, and it looks like you were lucky, Judy Hoffmann didn’t do more damage to your leg than she did”. “Of course. Yes”, I said. “And I want you to consider getting a service-weapon”, he continued. “It’s not an order, but I’d feel better knowing you had one”. “I don’t have the credentials to have one. And I don’t have a private permit”, I said. “I took the liberty to apply for a license with the bureau, on your behalf”, he said. “With my sign-off, it’ll go through, as soon as you take the needed exams on the gun-range here at Quantico”. “O-ok…”, I stuttered.

I was overwhelmed, terrified, and ecstatic all at once. “So, when’s the next case? What do I need to prepare? What…?”. “The only thing you need to do right now, is go home and sleep”, Hotchner said. I blew out a nervous breath. “I honestly don’t think I can sleep right now”. “Trust me”, he said. “Once the adrenaline wains off, you’ll be out like a light… Go home”.

I began limping towards the door, continuously looking over my shoulder at Hotchner, to make sure that what had just happened, had actually happened. Hotchner, having turned his focus to the file in front of him – probably some new case – looked up at me as I stood in the doorway. “Yes?”, he said. “Uhm… You never told me how you like your coffee”, I said. “Caramel macchiato. Heavy on the syrup, light on the espresso”, he said deadpan. “Don’t tell anyone”. A smile ghosted his face, and I made the motion of zipping my lips shut, before turning around and leaving the room.

The rest of the team were gathered in the bull-pen, all trying hard to look occupied with anything, but looking at me. Spencer’s eyes twitched nervously, as he dared to meet mine. “I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow”, I said timidly. Spencer raised his head, and smiled brightly. “I take it your meeting went well?”, Rossi said. I simply smiled, not really knowing what to say. Morgan took my bag for me, and patted my shoulder. “Welcome to the team, Abs”. “Thanks”, I said. “It’s good to have you”, JJ grinned. Blake nodded in agreement.

We all headed towards the elevators, Rossi letting me put my arm through his, to help me walk. My leg was still throbbing. Penelope came running towards us as we went. “Hold the doors!”, she called out, and slipped inside, just before they closed. She handed me a phone. “Here you go. Hotch told me you were staying”. “Thank you. And thanks for your help yesterday”, I said. “You’re very welcome. Now, I think you owe me a story…”, she said. I took my bag from Morgan, and slipped the phone into it. “What story?”, I muttered, worried where this was going. “You. Vodka. The Rock…”, Penelope grinned. “Now this I’ve gotta hear!”, Morgan laughed. “Oh god…”, I groaned. “You’re one to talk, Morgan. I’ve seen you after a row of tequila-shots”, Blake said. “Oh, really…”, Morgan replied.

Friendly banter and laughter went back and forth between the people in the elevator, as I moved to stand against the wall, next to Spencer. “I’m happy you’re staying”, he said. “Me too”, I replied. Our shoulders were touching slightly as we stood there, and as fatigue was once again setting in, and my leg not exactly stable, I allowed myself to lean a little against him. “You ok?”, he asked quietly. “Yeah. It’s just my leg”, I muttered. “Would you like me to walk you to your car? For support, I mean”, he said, his cheeks slightly pink. “That’s really nice of you, but I don’t have one…”, I said. “I was going to take the bus and the train”. “Reid has a car…”, Rossi said. “Eavesdropping?”, Spencer said. “Hey. It’s a free elevator”, Rossi smirked. Spencer inclined his head towards me, and lowered his voice even more. “It’s true. I have a car”, he said. “Would you like a lift home?”. I felt my cheeks beginning to burn. “That’d be nice”, I squeaked.

We reached the parking level, and Spencer held out his elbow, to let me hook my arm through it. “Goodnight, guys!”, JJ called after us as we walked away from the others. “It’s actually morning”, Spencer said. “Who cares. I’m going home to sleep”, Blake said. “See you tomorrow!”, Penelope tweeted.

“I’m going to like it here”, I said. Spencer looked down at me with a warm smile. “Me too… I mean I’ll like that you’re here… I mean…”. “Doctor?”. “Yes?”. “You’re being awkward again”. “Yes”.

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“There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.” - Edgar Allan Poe

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