#that lets you think of yourself as an agent instead of a victim… yes

[steveyockey]

louis “I will keep you from reading my daughtersister’s own account of her assault at the hands of a stranger and at mine because I tell myself I am protecting her memory but however true that may be in reality I am still incapable of reckoning with what others did to her when I was not protecting her and what I did when she was protecting both of us, that I made her to be my child but instead forced her under the thumb of my own master and couldn’t even kill him to free us both, that I deprive her the agency I crave in asserting my own free will through telling this story” de pointe du lac I’ve got your number BITCH

[natashxromanovf]

Hey, John!

Spencer Reid x chronic pain condition!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1682

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of a gun, mentions of gunshots

REQUESTED: {x} by anon, platonic relationship

SUMMARY: When a police officer talks bad about you behind your back, you later prove him wrong. 

A/N: thank you for this request! gif credits @toyboxboy

It’s on days like these that you feel the most useless to the team - sure, your brains make up for the fact that you can’t go on the field, and you know you’re crucial for the team to work, yet deep down there’s always that feeling that you don’t belong there. The case had already started bad since you were having a bad day with your pain, but you still managed to go with them, mostly because you know this case is going to be a complex one, so they will need all the minds they can get.

“Here, let me help you,” Spencer says as he helps you out of the plane, the heat of Los Angeles immediately blowing into your face. You thank him, softly smiling at him. Spencer has been your best friend ever since you joined the team. He has helped you a lot over the years, never once complaining when you asked him if he could do something for you - and you’re infinitely grateful for that. He really has been the best friend anyone could ask for.

A couple of minutes later you arrive at the precinct, thankful for the fact that they have an elevator. You set up as soon as the sheriff shows you where you can put your things, time being quite an important factor in this case.

As usual, Spencer stays behind to set up a geographical profile, asking you for help on this one since there were a lot of victims already, hence there are a lot of paths and points to mark. You of course help him, and once you’re done you move back, trying hard to notice a pattern.

“I can’t see one,” you confess, a deep, focused frown taking over your face.

“Me neither,” he answers, and you can practically see the wheels in his head turning. “I need coffee,” he declares, taking his eyes off the map. “You want one?”

“Yes, please,” you practically exclaim, a chuckle escaping Spencer’s mouth.

“Okay, coming right up,” he mutters, walking out of the room. You try your best to focus on the piece of paper hanging in front of you, but there’s a police officer that just won’t stop staring at you and it’s making you lose focus every time you think you found something.

Deciding enough is enough, you look at him, giving him a smile full of attitude. He immediately averts his gaze, going back to talking with his colleague. Sadly, you can say you’re used to people judging you silently; it’s okay when they simply look because let’s be honest - if you saw someone in a wheelchair you would look too, and it’s okay when they look once, maybe twice and move on with their lives but what really bothers you is when they stare and they keep staring, especially if it’s on a case and the one silently judging is a police officer.

After this very unpleasant interaction, you simply turn your head back to the board, starting to look for any kind of pattern again. And yet somehow, you can see it now - it’s an unfinished heart. That tells you a lot about the unsub so you decide to go look for Spence, instead of just waiting for him to get back.

But when you start pushing yourself out of the room, you see the cop that was staring at you before now talking to Spencer and you can’t help but eavesdrop, once you hear they’re talking about you.

“...I don't know what people like her are even doing as FBI agents, they’re no use. They can’t go out on the field, all they can do is hang out at the office the whole time,” the officer whispers, and you could’ve sworn you saw murder written in Spencer’s eyes. Yet there’s a part of you that fears Spencer’s reaction - like is he actually going to agree with him or is he going to stand up for you?

And of course, Spencer chose the latter. “You know, agent Y/L/N is actually very important for the team. We couldn’t save half the cases we get if it weren’t for her. She’s extremely smart and sometimes, she sees things all of us overlook. Some crucial things too. She’s a total badass so if you have something to say about her condition, please don’t talk to me about it. Really, I don’t want to hear another dumb thing come out of your stupid mouth.”. You have never heard Spencer talk like that to anybody, especially not to a fellow law enforcement officer. But in the end, you’re glad he started now.

After saying what he had to say he walked off, stopping in his tracks when he saw you near there. He had a sympathetic smile on his face, one you were very grateful for at that moment.

“Come here,” you gesture for him to bend over and he does so, immediately being wrapped in one of your special hugs. “Thank you,” you say silently, a small smile stretching over your lips.

“No need to thank me, Y/N/N, I just spoke the facts. We really do need you, you know,” he explains, handing you your coffee once you let go of him.

“You really do, don’t you?” you joke, pulling a laugh out of him. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you I found the pattern,” you add, getting back into the work mood. You show him the unfinished heart and explain where you think the unsub might go next. There are two points he may go, either one end of the heart or the other. Thankfully, there were enough officers to send to both locations, along with the BAU team.

There was one thing, in particular, you missed though - something that was exactly in the middle of that “heart”. It was the police station you’re currently at. Right exactly in the middle stands this building, tall and proud.

You knew something was missing, something you missed. It was bugging you so much that you went back to check. You looked at everything. From the lines the points were connected with, to the surroundings of the crime scenes until something in you clicked. You looked to the middle, and everything suddenly made sense. Of course, his target was the police station all along.

You quickly drove to the phone on the table but before you could dial Hotch’s number into it, a gunshot rang through the room. You quickly dropped the telephone and pushed yourself to the bullpen, only to see a white male in his early 40s with a gun pointed at one of the officers. Just like you profiled. The unsub must have panicked when he saw the police closing in - so instead of completing the heart first, he went straight for his final target.

“Hey!” you shout, getting the unsub’s attention. His gun immediately points to you instead, making you put your hands up in defence. You got this, you were trained for these kinds of situations. The first rule of any hostage negotiation is to try to talk the target down. Calm them down, present them their options in the most negative way for them possible. If that doesn’t work, just stall until help arrives. You profiled that he wouldn't negotiate so you went straight to phase two. Stall.

“Who the fuck are you?” he nervously asks, waving his gun around. A mental breakdown? You didn’t profile that but it’s better to know from the beginning than be surprised at the wrong moment later.

“I’m SSA Y/N Y/L/N,” you calmly answer, breathing steadily even though you feel like your heart will explode any second now. “And who are you, if I may ask?”

“You don’t have to know!” he quickly replies. He’s jumpy. Good. Maybe you can use that against him. This will either be a very good or a very bad trait of his.

“Okay, let’s just call you John, shall we?” you suggest, still holding your hands up.

“Sure,” he replies, the gun in his hands held high. That’s when you see a familiar silhouette behind him. Spencer Reid in all his glory. You have never been so relieved to see him. He catches your eye, telling you his plan with one look. You slightly nod the minute the unsub’s eyes avert for a second. Everything is up to you now.

“Hey, John!” Emily shouts from the other side of the room, making him whip around at the speed of light. Yet he wasn’t faster than you. As soon as Emily screamed, you pulled out your gun, shooting him in the thigh before he hurts anyone. And at that moment, Spencer jumped on him, seizing the gun and putting the unsub to the ground. Immediately officers were on him, cuffing and holding him in place.

“Are you okay?” Spencer is at your side in a second.

“I’m fine,” you smile. “A little shaken up, but aren’t we all?” you question, more rhetorically than anything else. He lets out a sigh of relief, looking away only to lock eyes with the cop that was previously talking bad about you behind your back.

“See, I told you she was a badass,” he declares, taking in the officer’s shaking form. “Hope you can stop shaking soon and realise that the woman right there,” he points to you “is braver than you ever were and will be,” he finishes, not paying the man in blue any more attention.

“My hero,” you joke, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I think Emily and you are the real heroes here,” he says in reply, underappreciating himself. Again.

“You were pretty cool too,” you wink, shaking your head as you chuckle.

“C’mon, let’s get you home, it’s been a long day,” Spencer comments, getting up from his position, going to walk behind you so he can push your wheelchair. You’re very grateful for him at this moment. He showed up and that’s all that matters - you knew you could count on him and his smart brain.

criminal minds taglist: @velvetcloxds @mollysolo @hallecarey1 @mirclealignr @cupids-crystals

spencer reid: @eichenhouseproperty

i hope you enjoyed this! don't forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

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[thevindicativevordan]

thoughts on Superman: Secret Identity? I personally LOVE the art as well as it’s interpretation of Clark and family. It’s also a great rebuttal towards Zack Snyder’s claim that DCEU Superman is what a “realistic” Superman would be like

One of my all-time favorite Superman stories. If the story doesn't hook you the drop dead gorgeous art from Immonen absolutely will. Every time I read this all the wind gets knocked out of me when I see his amazing double page spreads.

Problem with most "realistic" Superman stories is that they all usually ignore the big caveat: if Superman was "real" he would grow up in a world alongside the fictional character Superman! Beginning as a pitch for a Superboy-Prime story (yes that Prime), Busiek set out to tell the story of "Clark Kent of Kansas", an ordinary kid who gets teased growing up because he shares a name with the most iconic superhero on the planet. Clark is a loner and an outcast who has trouble fitting in, and doesn't find the constant jokes about his name all that funny, nor does he actually like or care about his famous namesake. Then one day while out camping by himself, Clark wakes up from a nightmare to discover he can fly. Not just fly, he has all of Superman's powers: super strength, nigh-invulnerable skin, heat vision, enhanced senses, the whole works. What he decides to do with his gifts shapes the course of his entire life, and attracts the attention of the government.

At his core this Clark has the basic decency you'd expect from Superman, but he isn't a saint or morally unimpeachable. In line with being a realistic take, this is a Superman you could feasibly see yourself being, a Superman who is relatable. Plenty of folks who woke up one day to find they had Superman's powers would probably first use their powers for fun, but eventually I do think many would attempt to be a hero. After all our entire pop culture is built around the understanding that people with superpowers have a responsibility to use their powers to help others, and many would want to imitate the heroes they've seen in film and video games. Contrasting with so many other "what if Superman was real?" stories, Secret identity manages to stand out by it's level of maturity. It tries to reconstruct Superman rather than just mock him as being stupid or outdated. When Clark becomes a writer, marries a Lois, or dons a pair of glasses it feels believable because Bueisk acknowledges the criticism about those tropes, while still incorporating them. Glasses aren't going to fool anyone Clark works with daily, but perhaps they might throw off any government agents he unwittingly crosses paths with in the street.

Realism is often correlated with darkness and cynicism in people's minds. You might be surprised to learn that Secret Identity does have elements of both in how it explores human nature. Wendy Case blew up gas lines throughout the town of Pickettsville, in an attempt to force Clark out into the open, because she was so desperate to make it to the big leagues and he was her meal ticket. Yet Clark can't find it in himself to hate her for it, pitying her instead while still reserving the majority of his sympathy for her victims. Agent Mallory was willing to capture and imprison Clark for the "crime" of using his powers to help people. Mallory was so terrified of what Clark might do, that he was willing to actively push Clark into facing off with the government over their attempts to capture him. At the end Mallory proves himself to be decent, letting Clark walk away from helping the government and destroying all the information they had collected on him. Mallory even surprises Clark by letting Clark know that Mallory discovered his secret identity, but hasn't shared that information with anyone and will keep his secret.

Not that this story shy's away from letting you know that yes, there are some real bastards out there:

Scenes such as Clark discovering the victims of government experimentation, including a dead baby, hit me hard the first time I saw them. Usually Superman stories don't enter that kind of storytelling territory, but Secret Identity does and is all the stronger for it. Superman as a character is frequently said to only work in feel-good wholesome stories, stories that are only about how great he is or offer a rose-tinted worldview on human nature. I don't believe that hogwash because some of Superman's greatest stories are extremely dark, and this one of them. Here we see a perfect example of how Superman can work in a "dark and realistic" story. He comes face to face with the evil humanity is capable of, but he doesn't become evil himself. Torching the lab, but still carrying out all the soldiers who were attempting to stop his escape, Clark remains good even despite the efforts of the government to bend him to their will. Seeing that others can be bastards doesn't make him decide to be a bastard himself.

When it comes to Snyder this story is everything he wanted to do but actually succeeding. This is the story that manages to answer the question of "what if Superman was real?" in a way that doesn't break the character the way Snyder did. Clark never discovers that he's actually from Krypton, he doesn't meet Lex Luthor, he never publicly reveals himself as a "superhero", he comes into conflict with the government, and the story takes pains to acknowledge that there are costs to being Superman. Missing his wife giving birth to their twin daughters because he has to go rescue hostages is part of the deal that comes with being Superman for Clark. Whereas Cavill is utterly passive, hiding because Pa told him to, putting on the suit because Jor-El told him to, here Clark is the one who chooses to keep his identity secret, to keep saving people even when it would be more prudent to give up his heroics. Choices are made and consequences are dealt with, reaching an accord with Mallory and the government happens because Clark takes the initiative to make it happen. Compelling protagonists are ones whose actions shape the story, not protagonists who merely sit back and let events happen to them.

Another thing that struck me as I was reading this was how similar this take on Clark Kent is to Peter Parker. At the start he's a bullied outcast who can't even make friends with the "nerds". He's got his own Flash Thompson in Mike Aurie, who picks on Clark Kent but is enamored with the rumored "Superboy". After getting his powers, his first thought is to use them to travel, or to spy on girls. Eventually he uses them to help others, his first act of heroism being to save someone from drowning in a flood even though it's the middle of the day, but also plans on taking Wendy Case's offer to secure fame and fortune for himself and his parents by going public. Only after Case betrays his trust by attempting to take a photo of him without his consent or knowledge, does Clark back away from that plan. What separates the two is that Peter had let himself be warped by bitterness, he had all the hallmarks of a supervillain in the making until the spider bit him, whereas Clark didn't have Peter's entitlement issues.

In the final issue, as an old man who has been replaced by his twin daughters, Clark reflects on the meaning of the title: Secret Identity.

This right here is key to Superman's appeal, it's the foundation of the character, the part that comes directly from Siegel and Shuster's childhood experiences. Having different parts of yourself for different situations, and rarely does anyone outside of your immediate loved ones ever get to see the "whole" of you? Who can't relate to that on some level? We all have different personas, different "capes" we put on and wear at different times. Befitting his status as the Everyman+, Clark simply takes that to the next level, but that aspect of him is the way in for me and countless other Superman fans. It's an important aspect of Batman and Spider-Man too, even in stories where Clark has been outed I think on some level that separation of identities, manifesting in how he acts depending on "who" he is, needs to be there.

Beautiful story about someone with a remarkable secret life, this is an easy recommendation for newcomers or people who are already hardcore Superman fans but somehow haven't read this yet.

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

psa: trent ikithon is not as competent and powerful as he makes himself seem.

(cw: discussion of abuse)

.

.

i'm not sure how to get into this in a way that's natural, so i hope you don't mind if i go for the straightforward route.

trent ikithon is an abuser. that means his tactics all center around—and rely upon—making vulnerable people believe that he has far more power than he actually does. and when it comes to our pov, the m9's pov, ikithon is trying his damnedest to accomplish the same.

now, i don't know everything that's in matt mercer's head when he has played or characterized trent ikithon. i'm sure there's some depth to his motivations and intelligence, and i don't doubt that ikithon ideologically believes in strengthening the empire. but this is not relevant to the abuse tactics i want to discuss.

because the reality is this: abusers do what they do because they enjoy victimizing and controlling the vulnerable.

that's why you get abusers like archivist zeenoth who are attracted to positions of authority. those positions facilitate structural imbalances of power between them and their potential victims. trent ikithon, too, is doing the same thing—as an archmage of the cerberus assembly, he is exploiting the authority of his position to gain victims for abusing. he is not doing what he does because he's a brilliant mastermind focused on a goal. if he was, he wouldn't abuse his students.

think about it in terms of effectiveness. no matter what people like ikithon try to assert, his volstrucker are not in any way stronger or more capable from his 'tutelage'. caduceus clay roasted the man in his own dining room for this lie. what the volstrucker are are an organization of ruthless, skilled spies built from deeply abused and damaged people. they aren't healthy; they aren't stable. caleb widogast spent eleven years in a sanatorium because he was one of many recruits who broke under the abuse (see EGtW), and then five years as a solitary, paranoia-ridden mess in a filthy coat. he spent months trying not to self-sabotage his growing friendships and had a panic attack as soon as he left ophelia mardun's mansion in shadycreek (e27, 2:55:21). he has ptsd from using fire magic to burn people to death—considering his statement on executing traitors to the empire as a trainee (e18, 2:48:12), it was probably an everyday part of the job.

even the minority of volstrucker that do get through the training stage aren’t functioning well. only a few episodes ago, we watched astrid finish a conversation with caleb and then duck into an alleyway so she could curl up and have a five-minute breakdown before putting the composed mask back on (e126, 1:50:47). abuse makes being alive harder; good luck being a sustainable espionage program at that point.

so that's one lie. how about another?

at the dinner in ikithon's tower, ikithon implied that he has guided every step of caleb's path to recovery and ever-growing power. that caleb's plans to murder ikithon are exactly what he wants; that he even arranged his escape from the vergessen sanatorium (e110, 2:52:58).

i think enough people have recognized that ikithon's first claim is utter bullshit, considering that caleb and the m9 had just arrived from a random island on which they hosted a cult gathering festooned with phalluses. but the implication that he arranged for caleb's escape from the sanatorium was just that: an implication. he never says outright that he did so. he only couched what he knew in gaslighting platitudes and handed over the holy symbol of the cleric that healed him. you won't sense a lie that hasn't been spoken. he let caleb and the m9 make their assumptions, and the assumption worked in his favor.

let's consider the actual circumstances of caleb's escape (e18, beginning 2:51:54). a fellow inmate of the sanatorium who was a cleric suddenly grabbed him and healed him of his madness before returning to her own ravings. caleb then pretended he was still insane for two weeks before killing a guard, stealing the amulet that kept him hidden, and fleeing. how would any of these events work in trent ikithon's favor? the number of absurd assumptions here are off the charts.

first, you would have to believe that a cleric could permanently heal a man who'd been insane and probably experimented on for eleven years.

second, you would have to assume that this man would still be competent enough to pass general scrutiny and break out.

third, you would have to believe that he'd totally survive on his own without any resources whatsoever,

after eleven years of being institutionalized,

while first beginning deep in the pearlbow wilderness—

all without raising the suspicion of this apparently still hypercompetent ex-patient that his escape was too easy.

and fourth, you would have to believe that this man would actually accomplish something in your interests instead of, say, dying or remaining a vagrant beggar forever.

if this was all on purpose, then trent ikithon is really an idiot.

another truth: caleb was not special. both liam and caleb have said so (talks for e88, beginning 28:00; & e110, 29:06), with the examples of other volstrucker supporting this. all of them are talented mages and good at spycraft! they have to be to graduate in the first place! ikithon's assertions that caleb was extra special (e110, 2:52:11)? also a lie—specifically, a great tactic for convincing a victim of abuse not to think about it further. of course they're being hurt again. of course they're being targeted again. not to mention how abusers selectively compliment in order to confuse the people they’re hurting (relevant here: e88, 3:28:25). caleb having an unhealthy amount of hubris and thus open to being diagnosed with protagonist disease doesn’t help.

ikithon would have easily deduced the details of what happened and obtained the holy symbol after an investigation of the break-out. not too hard to piece things together if you simply ask about unusual events prior to the escape and learn that he'd had an altercation with another patient two weeks ago—and oh yes, that patient used to be a blasphemous cleric.

caleb widogast basically reappeared next door healthier, much more powerful, and more capable than ever. ikithon doesn’t have control over caleb’s entire past and future—but he wants him to believe he does. it’s a gaslighting attempt to make caleb question his own accomplishments and attribute them to ikithon so that ikithon can regain some control over his ex-student.

another truth: trent ikithon is already on thin fucking ice. no one in the cerberus assembly likes each other, of course, but a consistent point was made again and again that everyone deeply dislikes ikithon. he's stayed because he made himself useful, but he could and would get taken care of should he be a detriment instead (see e88, 3:19:27; & e97, 3:19:32).

any sort of thorough investigation into the volstrucker and the vergessen sanatorium would reveal exactly how fragile all of his agents are and how frequently he fails in conditioning his recruits. ikithon gets the pick of the crop when it comes to nationalistic, talented students that enter the soltryce academy. to find out that he drives a significant number of them insane? well, that's a pure waste of unrealized potential. and for what—a program of spies who are paranoid enough and opportunistic enough to turn on each other if prodded the right way?

and now... trent ikithon, as part of the traitorous beacon research, has been under heavy investigation from two fronts: the augen trust and the cobalt soul (e125, 2:31:10). and he has been getting very nervous recently (e125, 2:41:42).

the final truth i want to point out: trent ikithon is just as control-obsessed as any other abuser. we got the most obvious example of this yet from e128—his pursuit of the m9 to nicodranas and tidepeak tower. think about the circumstances again.

he was apparently so curious and so annoyed by caleb rebuffing all of his attempts at ‘conversation’ that he made his excuses before teleporting directly to nicodranas,

through a circle implied to be arranged diplomatically between the empire and the clovis concord,

with a plan to break into the lavish chateau, one of the most high-profile locations of the city, to potentially kidnap or kill everyone,

including the famous and beloved ruby of the sea.

he then chased the m9 and their families to the equally high-profile tidepeak tower on the open quay, all of which is owned by yussa errenis, an archmage himself who’s learned far more about local politics than he ever wanted to know,

intimidated his “man”servant,

and broke in.

and they did all of this possibly with some very confused members of the zhelezo following right behind them.

other people have gone through the potential political consequences of this more thoroughly than me, so suffice to say that trent ikithon has gotten himself into some deep shit. you can’t negotiate or magic yourself out of being witnessed by hundreds of people breaking into the tower of an archmage who is infamous among the locals for being a bitchy recluse.

if he was smart, and clever, and a brilliant mastermind, he wouldn’t have done any of that. what he could have done: continue to handle caleb from an ominous distance through spells like sending. allege to the cerberus assembly and king dwendal that the break-in was an underhanded cobalt soul mission because of beauregard’s association with the m9. or just straight-up say that the m9 broke into his facilities because they have a vendetta against him and have them at least investigated the next time the empire can hold onto them for a second.

but he didn’t do any of those much more clever possibilities. he acted impulsively and rashly and may well be on the way to a lot of trouble now. all because ikithon just could not handle caleb being saucy.

with all this in mind, i want to go back to one last detail: astrid and eadwulf. because these two would suffer terrible consequences if they ran away—allegedly.

because i want to ask... what exactly could ikithon do to them?

they’ve already killed their own parents. so far, we’ve had no sign either that they have anyone else important to them in his reach besides each other. they have nothing tying themselves to him besides years of abuse and the crimes they’ve committed as volstrucker. they might want some power of their own, sure, perhaps they want to kill him while they’re still close. but we certainly know that eadwulf and astrid are not invested in the volstruckers as it stands. they doubt ikithon. and they already have their own amulets.

so what else could make them so terrified by the idea of leaving with the m9 except the way that trent ikithon has abused them and convinced them that he’s powerful enough and capable enough to catch up to them?

don’t be fooled. he hosted the most embarrassing excuse for a dining-with-the-enemy scene (seriously, i hope someone reading this cringed the entire time as well from all the long pauses and terrible topic transitions) and then teleported away to flee caduceus clay’s scalding tea. no retort, no blackmail. he acted recklessly in nicodranas and appropriately pushed two of his own volstrucker to betray him, losing his one opportunity to capture the m9′s family there. and now ikithon is between a rock and a hard place in terms of political standing, with a spy network he has openly encouraged to turn against him.

there is no terror waiting in the wings anymore, no more strings he can pull. just an abuser playing up his own grandeur. at this point, the only thing he hasn’t reached his limit in yet is his high-level spell slots.

[fangirlings-things]

To get the job done

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Word count: 5.1K

Summary: going undercover as a couple with your boss in order to serve as bait for an unsub, definitely should have been more... professional

Warnings: smut, sexual innuendos, chocking, language, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and couldn't shake this idea out of my head lol. this is my first hotch smut ever written so I hope this is good. hope you guys enjoy this, lots of love!!!

TAG LIST: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee || GIF IS NOT MINE

“It’s not working”

Between the loud music resonating through the nightclub and the proximity of civilians who shouldn’t hear your words, you had come closer to Hotch to speak, so that he could fully understand what you were saying. As you did, mouth close to his ear, you were able to smell the scent of perfume coming from him. That was a good smell.

You both had done your best to look incredibly good on that night, for the operation the BAU had developed alongside the local police department on the last two days. As the unsub had been targeting couples on that nightclub specifically and there were no bodies to sustain the accusation even though he had been the last one seen with all those people, the best approach was to use a bait and catch him in the act.

At first you believed you were going in undercover with Morgan, what you guys had already done before when the situation called for it. But according to the profile and the fact that all the previous disappeared male victims were white, the team agreed that it would be better to send Hotch, and that was how you ended up playing couple with your boss, something you were sure shouldn’t be making you as nervous as it was.

“We've only been here for half an hour, (Y/N)” Hotch replied, eyes wondering around a bit before he focused on you and smiled tenderly, placing a hand on your cheek. You had been exchanging soft touches like that, to blind in between the other couples present. “Maybe he isn’t here yet”

You sighted heavily, but nodded in agreement, because there was a good chance he was right. For another hour, you and Hotch kept on to your disguise. You smiled at each other, even danced a bit, which really made you laugh because you had never pictured your boss doing such thing, and he had managed to laugh a bit as well. At some point, you felt his hands circling your waist and pulling you close towards his own body. You couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down your spine in that moment.

Time passed and passed, and except for a woman that got close to flirt with Hotch that he politely dismissed by holding your hand, nothing happened. The unsub didn’t approach you, like he had done to the other missing couples. Only then, a thought occurred to you and you remembered something important about the abductions. Or more exactly, previously to those.

“Hotch, we forgot something” you said, slowly pulling him by the arm to one of the corners of the club, like you where just getting away from the crowd to make out a bit.

“What?” he asked, frowning while trying to keep a relaxed expression on his features. Under the shinning lights of the nightclub, his short hair and white shirt with the two first buttons open and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked extremely handsome. Not that you hadn’t noticed it already on a daily basis, but then, he was your boss. On this night… he was playing your boyfriend. You had some kind of permission to allow yourself to think such thing.

“The unsub's method. What made him choose those couples instead of all the others” you said, pressing your back against the wall and bringing him close to you with a smile, feeling other people’s eyes on you both. His hands found your waist and stayed there, unmoving. “He likes to play the gentleman before actually abducting the couples” you told Hotch, hands running up his uncovered by the rolled sleeves arms. “Witnesses said they saw the male and the female getting into some kind of discussion, that the men were sometimes violent with their girlfriends, so the unsub would come and defend her” you saw that he had understood what you meant even before you said the words. “You have to be violent with me”

“So he gets to play the good guy with the women before abducting them and the boyfriends, to later kill them both” he completed your line of thought and you nodded, agreeing. “(Y/N)…” Hotch then began, hesitant. You saw the way he squeezed his lips on a thin line and sighted heavily, looking around again before getting his gaze fixed on you. “are you sure this is what we have to do?”

“I am” you guaranteed, eyes fixed on his as seriousness filled your tone. Hotch stared at you for a long moment as if he was thinking about it, but then he pulled back, taking his hands away from you and stepping back like he suddenly wanted distance. Fearing it would blow your cover, you looked at him even more seriously now. “Hotch? Come on! You have to…”

Before you could finish your sentence, expressing your indignation for his hesitation to get the job done, he closed the gap between you both once again, body now fully pressed against yours. His breath was on your face, heavy and hot. One of his hands, had gone to your throat. He was squeezing your neck, fingertips digging into your skin just enough to put some pressure on it.

“Why can’t you ever stop talking” his voice came out rough, irritated. With widened eyes because of the fact that he was suddenly all upon you, you realized that Hotch was playing along. He was following the plan. And really, you wanted to think about the unsub, but it proved to be really hard when you had Hotch’s hand around your throat and his breath on your face. The scent of his perfume, so close… you felt intoxicated by him in the best way possible.

“Hotch…” you began, glad that he had to be the one leading the actions and not you. Honestly, professionalism was the last thing on your mind in that moment and even though you knew it was wrong, you couldn’t help it.

“Shut up” he replied in the same instant, which made you go instantly quiet, as his hand increased the pressure on your neck just a bit. The fake anger was there in his voice but in his eyes, there was no such thing. They were cautious, inspecting your features to see if you were comfortable with this. You stared back at him silently and he understood, that you were good to keep up the little scene, which set him into action once again. “Just shut the fuck up for a moment” his hand moved further up your throat, brushing against your skin smoothly as it went. He only stopped when he was finally able to touch your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes on your lips as he did so. “Just shut up”

And right and there, you did something you couldn’t have predicted.

You moaned.

A low, breathy moan that you silently wished for him to not have heard, but of course he had, being pressed up against you like that. You closed your eyes for a long moment, embarrassed and desperately wanted to disappear. You had just moaned because of the hand of your boss around your throat. That wasn’t something you felt quite pride of. Still, you forced yourself to open your eyes and stare at Hotch. His eyes… they were unreadable. Even though you were a profiler, you had no idea what was on his mind. None.

Before you could think of anything to say, suddenly a man approached you and Hotch, getting too close. He was extremely tall, had brown eyes and blond hair. There was a calm expression on his features, the kind of expression you had often seen in the faces of unsubs when they talked about their crimes. “Hey, you’re hurting the lady, man!”

As both of your attentions were on him now, that being the unsub the police had already locked up but then let go because of the lack of evidences, Hotch released his hand from your throat, but then he grabbed your forearm with it, keeping you in place. When he spoke, he used the best angered voice he had. “I’m having a private conversation with my girlfriend. Why don’t you leave?”

The unsub focused his gaze on you, ignoring Hotch like he hadn't even spoken. “Is he hurting you?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), am I hurting you?” Hotch said turning to you too, provoking the unsub by forcing you to share the full attention he clearly wanted.

“No” you replied, eyes going from Hotch to the unsub. Looking into the latter's eyes, you forced yourself to give out a little smile. “I’m fine, but thank you” and as to reassure him, you gently placed your hand on his arm.

You heard Hotch take a deep breath by your side, annoyed by you touching the other man, and then he gripped really tightly at your arm. “We are leaving” and then without warning, he began to drag you towards the exit. You didn’t have to look back to know that the unsub was following you both.

“The others are outside, right?” you whispered to Hotch, as he continued to drag you along between the great amount of people.

“Yes, Morgan has a S.W.A.T team on the roof top of the next building” he said back, while pushing open the door of the nightclub. Instantly, the cold air of the night outside the place made you shiver, because of the great amount of exposed skin from your dress. Without saying anything else, he continued to drag you along. Seconds later, you heard the door being opened and closed again.

“Hey!” a voice that clearly belonged to the unsub said and you and Hotch stopped, turning around to look at him. He had pulled out a gun, and had it pointed directly to your face. “Come here you both, or I’ll shoot her right in her pretty face”

“Alright man, take it easy!” Hotch let go of you, raised his hands in the air and motioned for you to walk alongside him. You placed the most scared look you could on your face as you walked towards the unsub.

When you and Hotch had already closed half of the distance between you both and the unsub, armed agents appeared from every corner of the empty, barely illuminated parking lot, pointing their guns to the unsub.

“Richard Jones, put the gun down right now!” Morgan’s firm voice echoed through the parking lot as he screamed, standing just a few feet away from the man.

The unsub looked from the many agents to you both and seeing the controlled expressions on your faces, he clenched his jaw, filled with anger. “You two are cops, aren’t you?” hearing the instability in his voice, Hotch took a step forward to stand in front of you, shielding you with his own body. “Son of a…” the unsub took a enraged step forward and then the sound of a shot filled the night. In the same instant, the unsub fell to the ground, dropping the gun and using the now free hand to press on his shoulder, where the bullet had hit him.

Morgan quickly ran towards the fallen unsub and kicked the gun away from his reach. “You two good?” he asked without turning around, still pointing his gun to the now unharmed unsub.

“Yeah, we’re fine” you said, after touching Hotch’s shoulder for a moment. He just nodded, fine. Good.

The ambulance came after ten minutes to take the unsub to the closest hospital. Morgan talked to the local officers to decide which one would accompany Jones there and Reid and Prentiss had just congratulated you for the good job. Rossi, talked to Hotch a few feet away from where you were. When Spencer and Emily walked away to verify some last things with the paramedics, Hotch approached you.

“Good job” he said, hands on the pockets of his pants. The professionalism was back, now that the operation was done. The boss was back like he had never left.

“Thanks. You too” you gave him a smile, eyes on the paramedics that were just putting Jones inside the ambulance. “That’s how he did it. He threatened the women to make the men comply to whatever he said”

“He envied the men, they were always his real target. He overpowered the men and probably made them watch whatever he did to the girlfriends” Hotch said, also looking at the unsub.

“Do you think we will find the bodies?” you asked, frustrated. Now, Jones could be charged for the crimes but the families of the victims had nothing to hold on to. No bodies to bury. The thought was awful.

“I don’t think so” Hotch replied, as clear and honest as ever. The sound of the ambulance's doors being closed made itself heard and then Hotch sighted and put himself in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that beautifully defined the muscles of his arms. “(Y/N), about what happened in there…” for a second you thought he was going to mention your moan and all air left your lungs. But thankfully, he didn’t. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly. Gripping you like that”

“Oh, you didn’t” you rushed yourself into saying, trying to calm down your still heavy beating heart. You gave him another smile and a shrug. “We just did what we had to do to get the job done, right?”

“(Y/N)!” Reid called you, standing close to one of the SUV's, motioning for you to come close.

You briefly touched Hotch’s arm. “Don’t worry, Hotch” and giving him one last friendly smile you walked away towards Reid, taking a deep breath as you did so. Being under Hotch’s stare had never been so intense, exciting and anxious all the same.

With every step you took, you wondered if you would ever be able to look at Hotch like you did before that night. Merely as your boss and a friend.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

It turned out, things weren’t the same anymore.

It had been a month since that case were you and Hotch had gone undercover together as a couple. A month. It always felt like it had happened on the previous day to the one you were living. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake that night away from your mind.

Everytime Hotch would sit close to you at the jet and you would smell his perfume, you would inevitably close your eyes and remember the feeling of having his hands on your waist. When he would hand you a file and your hands would end up casually brushing against one another, you would remember having that same hand closed around your throat and that thought alone would make you have to hold back a whimper.

Truth was you wouldn’t be able to deny your attraction to your boss to anyone that asked about it. Thankfully though, you hadn’t wore wires on that night and no other members of the team had gone into the club. So, those moments had belonged only to you both. Your corrupted mind, was more than grateful for it.

“(Y/N), my love?” Garcia’s voice brought you back to reality, making you snap out of your thoughts and focus your eyes on hers. She was staring at you with a smile and curious eyes. “Now, you were daydreaming about some lucky sugar out there”

Cleaning your throat, you did your best to keep on a straight face. It was unbelievable how even though you daily spent your time with profilers, she could be more perceptive than all of them went it came to emotions and personal innuendos. “I’m sorry Penelope, I drifted away. Was is it?”

She stared at you with interested eyes for a few more moments before looking down at the table you were both sitting at for hours now, at the lobby of the hotel you had all booked in the city. “Well, I just finished doing all the background check I could get on the previous victims, like you guys asked me to” she handed you a folder, filled with information that certainly would be significant for the current investigation the team was working on. You were glad she had travelled with you all for this case.

“Penelope, you’re amazing” you grabbed the folder and took a few glares to the pages inside of it, before closing it again and looking back at her. “We should call it for the day and get some rest like the others”

“I’ll do that, I just have to check one last thing. Will you please spare me the trouble and take this to Hotch on your way to have some amazingly good sleep?” she pouted, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist such a request.

“Sure” you said, thinking about the fact that you had just agreed on going to Hotch’s room to deliver him the folder in the middle of the night. You took a deep breath before standing up. “Goodnight, Penelope”

“Rest well, my lovely friend” she winked at you and you smiled back at her before making your way to the elevator. You were all staying on the same floor, so you pressed the bottom to the seventh floor and waited with a fast beating her inside the elevator, that seemed to get to the said floor too soon. Too fast.

Room 220. You stared at it's door for what seemed to be hours. You thought about Hotch inside. The fact that you were about to come in. Him, alone. Alone with you. Like you two had been on that nightclub.

Taking a deep breath, you concentrated on stopping those wondering thoughts and knocked on the door. The answer came seconds later, an 'enter' you would often hear at the office. Of course he had been waiting awake for the files. That was Hotch, after all.

Taking another deep breath you opened the door and your gaze immediately met Hotch, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest close to the table placed at the corner of the room. Pictures and other files filled it and he looked through it like always, searching for leads and trying to begin the building of the unsub's profile. He had removed his black suit and red tie, standing there with just a white shirt covering his upper body. Just like on the nightclub.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother, but Garcia asked me to bring you these files” you raised the folder in the air, a small polite smile on your lips as you did so.

“Thank you” he crossed the distance of the room towards you and stopped just two steps away. You handed him the folder, and he looked inside it for long moments before looking back to you so your eyes would meet. “Do you want to help me go over this knew information?”

You swallowed dry at the suggestion you hadn’t been expecting. Who needed to sleep when you could just spend time with the man you daydreamed about, right? This thought, got the next words out of your mouth. “Yeah, sure”

“Okay, close the door” Hotch said with that professional tone of his, nodding in the door's direction before turning around and going back to stand close to the table. You did close the door and then went to stand by him, looking at all the files splayed out in quite a mess. “I still haven’t been able to make any progress with the profile”

“Well, we’ve only been here for two days” you said, getting some of the crime scene pictures in your hands and looking attentively at them, searching for anything that might have passed your attentions before. “we don’t have much but we’ll get the job done, like we always do”

Then, Hotch chuckled. The sound was so unexpected and it happened to rarely that you instantly stopped looking at the photos, placed them back at the table and then turned with a frown to look at your boss, not being able to stop yourself from smiling a bit. “What?”

“Nothing, is just that…” he shrugged, arms still crossed over his chest and eyes not staring into yours. “we have been making a great team lately” and then he looked at you. And he must have recognized the conflicted expression on your features, because the intensity of his eyes suddenly became too much to bare. And still, you found yourself unable to look away.

“Yeah, we have” you found it within yourself to answer those simple three words and then it happened exactly like in the nightclub. Before you could even realize what was happening, Hotch got closer and closer until his body was almost touching yours. Painfully almost.

“Can I?” he asked, staring into your eyes with beautiful fixation. His breathing was heavy and it made you realize that you weren’t the only one nervous in that room. You just nodded, staring back at him with your heart beating so hard and fast inside your chest it seemed like it would explode. Slowly Hotch raised his eyes and placed them on your cheeks, fingertips caressing the skin beneath them gently. And then, even more slowly, he closed the gap between you both and touched your lips with his.

It wasn’t even a proper kiss. Just a brush of mouths. Curious, anxious, insecure. He brushed his lips against yours and stopped, as if giving you time to decide what to do. To have Hotch there like that, with you like you wanted him to be, it went to your head in a burst of delight and you were the one who urged forward and fully pressed your lips together, hands going to rest on his forearms. He tasted good. So unique, so fine.

You kissed slowly. Exploring, getting to know each other’s mouths little by little with tongues and lips. But then you got impatient, excited, and you pressed your lips more hardly against his, wanting to make those kisses as deep and breath taking as you could. Hotch responded immediately at that incentive, kissing you just as intensively as you wanted him to. And so, one of his hands slipped down to your throat and he squeezed it slightly, putting pressure. Such an amazing pressure. And it made you moan. At that point, after all those kisses, you didn’t even bother to try to repress it.

“I have been wanting to make you moan again since that night” Hotch said against your lips and that, actually made you moan again. Louder this time and it made his squeeze on your neck get tighter and if you were being honest, you weren’t having it any other way.

You kept on kissing, bodies fully pressed against one another, mouths devouring each other unstoppably until your hands found the buttons of his shirt and you started opening them. It seemed to take hours but you finally managed to slip the shirt out of him, the piece of clothing ending up on the floor just to be shortly joined by your own t-shirt.

Hotch’s hands then were on your waist, gripping at the bare skin of your hips in a way that made you weak. One of your hands was on his cheek and the other, played with the short hair at the back of his neck. Together you moved towards the bed, mouths only letting go to do so. You pushed Hotch to the bed and he sat at the edge of it, looking up at you breathless and with his mouth very reddened from the kisses. He was beautiful.

You moved to sit on his lap, hands on his neck and mouth back on his because you already missed it. Through the layers of your intimate clothes and both of your pants, you felt his hard member beneath you. As you kissed you pressed your body down into him, pressing his member, and his breath hissed. You smiled.

Hotch gripped your thighs with his hands firmly and flipped you both around, making you lay back on the bed as he got above you. He kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth and hands squeezing so tightly your thighs that you felt like you were going to burst.

His hands went to open the button of your jeans and you helped him get rid of it. Another piece on the floor. Then, after giving you a series of quick kisses, Hotch stood up from the bed and started to take out his own pants. You just watched him, smiling with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Liking the view?” he asked with a smirk, and oh, that was a version of Hotch you could easily get used to. The way he took out the pants and disposed it to the side, standing now in just black boxer briefs, eyes not leaving you not for a second, that was something you wanted to mark in your memory.

“How could I not?” you replied just when he knelt back on the bed and then, crawled his way to be on top of you again. Looking up at his face, you sighted. That was amazing. What was happening… you couldn’t have predicted it not even in your best dreams.

Hotch kissed you again, hands traveling to your back just so that he could undo your bra. One more piece gone. One of his hands slowly found your left breast and he caressed it in his hands, making you moan again and again. He kissed you. He kissed your breasts. He kissed you again. His hands caressed your skin unstoppably.

“Hotch…” you moaned his name when he began to give you small bites here and there, the feeling of your skin between his teeth making you suck in a breath. He probably noticed the desperation in your voice, because next thing you knew he was sliding his kisses down to your belly and then, he kissed your pussy from above your panties. “Hotch” his name was emitted from your mouth again, louder this time.

He took his time just kissing you like that, with that layer between his mouth and your intimacy. Torturing you to the most. When he found it proper he removed your panties using both of his hands and after discarding them just like he had done with his pants, he used his hands to spread your thighs and get his face close to your pussy. He kissed your thighs, ignoring your intimacy. You could feel his hot breath down there and it made you lose your mind. You could almost feel yourself dripping your wetness into the bed.

“Hotch!” you urged him to stop teasing, eyes shut and chest raising and falling incredibly fast due to your erratic breathing. The moan you gave out when his mouth finally came in contact with your pussy was obscene. Was loud and you did not give a damn about it because you had your boss's face between your legs and that was it. That was all you cared about right then.

He sure as hell knew what to do with his mouth. He kissed, sucked and he fucked you with his tongue, his saliva mixed with the wetness of your own body making you become a moaning mess. Your hands went to his short hair and you gripped tightly at it, pulling. You moaned again, and that made him moan a bit. Suddenly the feeling of his mouth was gone and you felt extremely disappointed. Just a bit more…

One of his fingers found it’s way inside your body and your moan was cut short by his mouth back on yours. You tasted yourself on his mouth and the thought alone almost made you come. After a couple seconds, another finger joined in and the feeling of having them coming in and out of your body was incredible. Your hands stayed in his hair, pulling and gripping like you were holding yourself into dear life.

His movements were slow, calculated. The kisses were deep. At some point, you made it know you wanted more by sliding one of your hands down between both of your bodies and touching him through his briefs. He stopped kissing you, stopped the movements of his hand and looked into your eyes. You smiled at each other, and then he pulled back away from you to get rid of the last layer. The last piece ended on the floor.

You motioned to grab at his hard member, bit he held your wrist gently halfway and you frowned. “Another time. Right now” he came close again and with one of his hands, stroked your hair for a bit. “I want to make you feel good”

“Okay” you managed to say, already excited by the idea of 'another time'. You were certain, that was something you wanted to keep happening and for the look on Hotch’s face, he did too.

You both moaned together when he entered your body with his member. Finally. His mouth and fingers had made you as slick and open they could and you managed to fit all of him inside of you, all pain disappearing in just a few moments as you locked your legs around his waist.

Hotch looked into your eyes again, smiled by seeing your clearly pleasured expression and then began to move. Slowly, enjoying every bit of it. But after so much previous teasing, he couldn’t hold himself back too much and hearing you moan like that, probably didn’t help his state of mind.

His movements became rough, fast. You both moaned and moaned, each other’s names being the only thing leaving your mouths. One of Hotch’s hands found your throat and the feeling of his fucking you with the squeeze on your neck made you come, moaning loudly. So loudly. Hotch came just a few movements after, moaning too.

He laid beside you, both of you breathing heavily with your skins glistening in sweat. You kissed him once more before snuggling up to his chest and closing his eyes, you fell asleep.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

“Morning, guys” Prentiss said, yawning while joining the rest of the team in the hotel lobby. The sun had just raised itself in the sky and you were all heading to the local precinct.

“Morning” Morgan replied, smiling by her clearly sleepy face. Sitting by Garcia’s side in one of the couches, he had a cup of coffee in his hand. “Hope you all had a nice night of sleep, because this day will probably be too long”

“I couldn’t sleep until four” Reid said with a heavy sight, also having a cup of coffee in his hands. Standing beside you, he looked to Hotch and then back at you before whispering. “The walls were really thin”

[gubler-me-up]

No Need to Rush

Request: can u pls do a spencer x bau fem! reader where she’s dyslexic but also a genius like spencer and like someone maybe another member of the team/unsub makes a comment abt her being stupid. and she gets really upset abt it. then later spencer comforts her and they have really romantic but rough sex. where he’s just like reassuring her of how smart and beautiful she is.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Sorry this took a lil long to complete but I wanted to make sure I wrote this accurately and incorporate everything you wanted into it! Please let me know if you don’t feel as if this representation of dyslexia sits right with you and I will edit it no problem. This fic also concludes smut week (woo!) so I hope you enjoy 💓 

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Learning disorder degradation, mentions of violence, rough sex, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, choking

Word count: 3.2k

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It was the dead of winter in Seattle, Washington and a sniper decided it was the best time to have some target practice. His target practice ended up taking three innocent people’s lives as they were living their day-to-day lives. To top off his killing spree, he wrote handwritten letters to the police department. His letters were rambles about him not stopping until he finds his final target.

Hotch had left Spencer and you to go over the letters to try and figure out any indications of who his final target could be. He had sent JJ and Morgan to interview the victim’s family members to try and see if there were any similar people in their circle. Having you four working diligently on piecing the entire story together could end up saving another person from meeting an early demise.

You loved working with Spencer because the two of you were always up to speed with your thinking process. Both of you analyzed each letter with care, making sure nothing was missed which could possibly be used as a clue in identifying who this person and who their real target is.

You felt as if you were taking too long to go through every letter. There were about 20 of them and his incoherent rambles were giving you a hard time efficiently reading them. You had 10 to go through and Spencer was already finished and writing on the whiteboard clues he found in the letters. You were still on your seventh letter, dissecting and writing down what you thought was important. You couldn’t help feeling bad you were taking a long time.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Spencer looked back at you with a questionable expression. “For what?”

“For taking forever. I’m taking up time reading these letters when I should be brainstorming with you.”

“Y/N, you’re not slowing down the process. If anything you taking your time can identify some major evidence.”

“Yeah, but you could do it within two minutes.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. Valuable information is valuable information no matter how long it takes you to find it. Besides you’re the smartest person I know, so nothing will get past you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“I’m here to remind you it’s all the time. I’ll be here to remind you every day if you ever doubt yourself.”

You smiled as you felt your worries drifting away. You were always self-conscious about having dyslexia. Growing up with it was the hardest part of your early years because people would see your extraordinary capabilities but questioned them whenever you had to read or spending longer than usual completing tasks. It was embarrassing for you. Even in adulthood you felt anxious about letting people know you were dyslexic because you were worried they wouldn’t see you as a genius.

When you let the members of the team know you were dyslexic, they accepted you as you were. It made you feel welcomed and understood for once in the longest while. It was especially nice hearing Spencer say you were a genius regardless of your dyslexia. You felt as if he understood you the most out of everyone because he had a rough time growing up as a child prodigy.

As you continued to read through the letter you were on, something caught your eye. You looked up at the whiteboard to see what Spencer had written. He had written about sunsets, trees and a park. He had concluded it was about Kerry Park in Seattle and speculated the unsub could possibly live near there. What you had read though made you think of a different possibility.

“Kelly Park,” you said aloud.

Spencer turned to you. “Kelly Park?”

Before you could explain your findings, Hotch and detective Royce entered the room. You were happy they did, so you could explain to everyone your theory as to who the unsays actual target is.

“Find any useful information we can put towards finding the unsub?” Hotch asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Kelly Park’s the end goal.”

“Kelly Park? You mean Kerry Park by West Highland,” detective Royce said.

“No, I mean, yes, but the unsub slipped up…uh no, they-uh- replaced Kelly with Kerry because there is a Kelly Park who lives nearby,” you explained.

“Wait, so is it Kerry or Kelly the name of the person who lives nearby Kerry’s Park?” Hotch asked.

“Sorry, sir. It’s Kelly Park who lives nearby Kerry’s Park.”

“How can you even speculate that?” Detective Royce asked.

“Because it’s in this letter. He says, ‘I spend my days looking at Kelly Park and wondering when I’d be brave enough to leave. I don’t think I am but one day I’ll be free,’” you said while holding it up.

Detective Royce took it from your hand to take a closer look. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read. He looked back up at you questionably.

“Maybe he’s dyslexic. Only an idiot would write Kelly instead of Kerry when referring to Kerry Park,” he said.

You clenched your jaw as he said his ignorant statement. You knew the unsub wasn’t dyslexic and you had a clue right infant of you. You snatched the letter away from his hands as you took a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“I’m actually dyslexic myself and I can tell you right now this unsub is not,” you said.

“I should have known from the time you mixed up Kerry and Kelly in your explanation. For a genius you sure don’t talk like one,” he said.

You felt your eyes stinging from the tears which were trying to breakthrough. What he said was familiar to everything you heard from your childhood. It was degrading to hear it when you knew you were on to something. Especially evidence which could potentially save someone.

“Don’t talk to one of my agents with such disrespect, Royce. My team and I would never slander your team, so we expect the same courtesy back,” Hotch said.

“Hotchner, you can’t seriously believe this is a connection,” detective Royce said.

“Who said it couldn’t be?” Spencer said.

“Common sense. He’s trying to mess up his words on purpose to take us off track from what really matters,” detective Royce said.

“Well, I’m not taking that risk. While you stand there with your arro…ignorance, I’ll actually go and do something about this piece of evidence,” you said as you walked by him to exit the room.

You could feel your heart drop with every step you took. Before you called Garcia you took a trip to the washroom. You went into a stall and made sure it was locked before you let your tears escape. You hadn’t felt humiliated for the longest time. The questionable look and harsh comments detective Royce spat at you made you feel sick. You knew you were smart and you knew you were onto evidence to save someone’s life. Yet you were doubted.

You wiped your tears away and took a few deep breaths before exiting the stall. You couldn’t let what he said distract you from finding Kelly Royce. You knew it would affect you for the rest of the day but you would sleep better at night knowing you saved a life. You didn’t want to be crying over two things tonight.

------

You sat on the edge of the hotel room bed. You had finished getting ready for the night and were ready to get into bed to forget about the day. You were happy you were right about Kelly Park and saved her hours before she was scheduled to go into the heart of Seattle for an appointment. Her ex-boyfriend, Michael Richards, had plotted for months on how to make her death look like an accident. Too bad his guilty conscience and ego didn’t mix well and he compulsively wrote down his thoughts.

It bothered you immensely detective Royce still didn’t give you your flowers at the end of everything. You understood not everyone would apologize for their ignorance and you should be used to it by now. However, you couldn’t help but think about it over and over.

You heard a few light knocks on your hotel room door. You looked at the clock. It was 11 p.m. You got up to go peek through the peephole to see who was trying to get your attention this time of night. You looked through the peephole and saw Spencer standing outside. You opened the door. As you opened it he looked at you with a smile but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“What brings you to this part of town so late?” You asked.

“I want to make sure you’re okay before you go to bed. I know how frustrating today was for you and I don’t want you going to bed with doubt on your mind,” he explained.

You stepped aside and gestured him to come inside your hotel room. You were happy he had stopped by. He was always the first one to give you words of encouragement and a reason to put your doubts aside. You closed the door and made your way over to the edge of the bed to sit. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit down. He took the seat next to you, sitting closer to you than expected. You two were shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. It was comforting to you for him to be so close.

“You know, if it wasn’t for you pointing out Kelly Park in his letter, she might not be alive,” he said.

“I know and I’m glad it worked out in the end. I just…”

You trailed off as a wave of doubt overthrew your thought process. You started to think if you had been wrong, if it were just your dyslexia getting the best of you, an innocent life could have been taken. A tear slipped from your right eye. You quickly wiped it away before Spencer saw. He must have seen it escape because he placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed it.

“You have a beautiful mind, Y/N,” he assured you.

“It doesn’t translate properly when I say the wrong words, read slower than average, mix up-”

“And all that doesn’t make a difference to how you save lives every day. If detective Royce wasn’t so prideful he would have thanked you properly for bringing to light what they brushed off,” he said.

You chuckled. “Yeah, he is a prideful idiot.”

“Exactly, so don’t let him or other doubters get to you. I believe in you wholeheartedly and always will. The team does as well, so we’ll always back you up.”

You smiled brightly at him as you felt your deep sadness fade away. He had such a way with words you felt as if you could rule the world solely based on his encouragement. You opened up your arms and embraced him in a hug. He wrapped his arms around the small of your back. He rubbed your back gently as you placed your head comfortably in the crook of his neck.

“I love how you’re always here for me, Spence,” you whispered into his neck.

“I’ll always be here to remind you of your worth and beauty,” he said.

You leaned up from his neck and faced him straight on. Your faces were just an inch away from each other as you lost yourself in his eyes. You softly smiled and found yourself saying things before your brain could process them.

“I could just kiss you right now,” you blurted out.

“Why don’t you?” He asked.

You were now speechless as you weren’t expecting him to be open to the idea. Perhaps he did find more than just your mind to be beautiful. One of his hands moved from your back and found its way to the side of your face. He moved your face closer to his and your lips finally met each other. He gently eased his tongue into your mouth before he dived fully into your mouth.

You placed your hands on his chest. You pulled on his shirt to bring him forward even more to minimize the space between you two. He moved his hands and placed them both on your hip. He brought you onto his lap without breaking your kiss. You glued your hands to his face to prevent him from even considering moving away from you. His hands squeezed before slipping his hands down your pyjama pants.

You didn’t give it a second thought and raised yourself off his hips so he could pull your pants off along with your underwear. He leaned away from your lips as he stared at you with a deep yearning in his eyes. He caressed his hands up your thighs, to your hips and then under your shirt. He pulled your shirt off to reveal your bare breasts.

“I hope you like what you see,” you said.

He smiled. “Of course. You’re beautiful beyond words.”

He then placed your right nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around your nipple. You moaned loudly as his tongue made your nipple feel a stimulation you never thought they could feel. He freed your nipple from his mouth as he quietly hushed you.

“We can’t let anyone know where in the same room together,” he whispered.

“I don’t care,” you said as you desperately leaned into him to steal another kiss.

He kissed you back. You held his head in place so he wouldn’t dare move away from you again. You soon felt his thumb circling around your clit. It wasn’t enough to make you stop kissing him but it made you release endless moans into his mouth. You then felt him shove two fingers into you which made you stop kissing him and set your moans free into the atmosphere. He pumped his fingers in and out of you so quickly you couldn’t find the time to catch your breath.

“If you can’t handle my fingers, how do you expect to handle my dick, beautiful?” He asked.

“I…I can,” you stammered.

He smiled. “I haven’t doubted you yet, have I??”

He took his fingers out of you and went to work on undoing his pants. You stared down at his huge bulge as he slipped down his pants and then his underwear. Your eyes widened as you saw his dick. He looked at you to see the amazement in your eyes. He softly chuckled as he grabbed your ass and squeezed it tight as he brought you forward to position you.

“Sit down on it and try not to be too loud,” he demanded.

You did what he asked and lowered yourself onto his dick. The further you went beyond the tip the more your mouth went agape. You could barely even get to the base without feeling as if his dick was already completely inside of you. He did you the favour and forced you all the way down on his dick. You let out a shriek which was cut short by him sticking his two fingers coated in your juices inside your mouth.

“Bounce on it and don’t make a sound. Understand?” He asked.

He nodded your head ‘yes’ for you and you started bouncing on his dick. You could feel your legs quaking as you engulfed his dick in and out of your repeatedly. Once you established a rhythm, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and enjoyed every inch of his dick stretching your walls.

“How about we pick up the pace?” He asked.

Your eyes shot open as he bucked his hips up and disrupted your rhythm with his new set motion. You moaned heavily around his fingers as his dick kept ramming into you with no mercy. He used his other hand and squeezed your left breast. He licked your breasts before gently biting your nipple.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“I only ever treat extraordinary women like this,” he said.

“Really?” You moaned.

He lifted you off his dick and laid you on the bed. He gently wrapped his large hands around your throat as he positioned himself on top of you. You could feel your adrenaline pumping as he lowered his face down to yours and kissed you softly on your lips before he stared into your eyes.

“You’re the only extraordinary woman I know,” he said.

“Fuck me like an extraordinary woman,” you said.

He obliged and rammed his dick into you with urgency. You moaned repeatedly as you took in every inch of his dick inside of you. He kissed along your jawline before reaching your ear.

“Who gets fucked like this?” He asked.

“Extraordinary women,” you whimpered.

“And what are you?” He asked.

“An extraordinary woman,” you whimpered.

As he continued to fuck some sense into you, he whispered nothing but the sweetest things in your ear. He called you beautiful, brilliant, amazing and his favourite, extraordinary. It felt nice hearing those things being repeated over and over in your ear especially by him. His dick definitely enforced the message as with every word he said to you, his motion would intensify. You wrapped your legs around him as he continued to fuck you.

“Where do you want me to cum, beautiful?” He asked.

“Inside of me,” you moaned.

He tightened the grip around your neck. “Louder.”

“Inside of me,” you shrieked.

“Look at me while I cum inside of you,” he demanded.

He grabbed your face to keep you still so your eyes were focused on him the whole time. He bit his bottom lip as he stared at your worn-out expression as he fucked you. He slowly stopped going at his rapid pace and soon stopped. You felt his cum fill your insides and you let out a soft moan at the feeling.

He let go of your neck and eased up from on top of you. You felt him stick two fingers in you and he pulled them out quickly. He placed his cum covered fingers on your lips. You opened your mouth and licked the cum dripping off his fingers.

“I don’t ever want you to doubt yourself again. You’re fucking amazing,” he said.

You leaned up on your elbows and smiled. “You are too.”

“Since I can’t stay in your room for the night without raising suspicions in the morning, how about we do something when we get back home and you can stay the night at my place? You know, for extra reassurance,” he said with a smile.

You giggled. “I’d love that.”

He leaned into you and gave you another big kiss on the lips. As he parted from your lips he stared at you with softer eyes from before and brushed your hair back.

“Maybe I’ll stay for a few more minutes. You like cuddles?” He asked.

“I love them,” you said.

He chuckled. “Great because I have a deep desire to cuddle you and make you know you’re treasured.”

You could have cried when he said that. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pecked him on the lips. It wasn’t the best time to cry. You wanted to cherish the moment as a positive part of the day.

“Thank you, Spence. You’re extraordinary.”

“I guess that makes us a perfect match.”

“It sure does.”

—–

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection​, @slutforthegubes​, @pinkdiamond1016​, @spencerreidsthings​, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @slutforsr​ @bxtchboy69​, @fallinallinmendes​

MASTERLIST

[nothing-but-dreamy]

BLACK TIE

A/N: Thanks again for this idea @mindlessstories

I hope you have fun with it

Pairing: LEON KENNEDY x READER

Words: 1.736

Warnings: fluff, cursing, Leon in a suit

Synopsis: Yn and Leon are on a mission with fancy clothes. But somehow the mission is not the most interesting thing...

"W-What the bloody... What are you wearing?", Yn asked as she checked the appearance of the man in front of her. The guy was neatly dressed in a white suit shirt, black suit pants and a black jacket. Even a black tie was bound around the man’s neck. Quickly, Yn checked the number of the hotel room once again in fear she had mistaken it and might stand in front of some stranger. No, it was the right room and actually, it was also the right guy. It was just … even if it was part of the mission, Leon S. Kennedy had swapped his typical, casual leather jacket with a tuxedo. It was a sight for sore eyes. Unusually and at the same time, perfectly fitting as if Leon would be some kind of secret undercover supermodel instead of an agent.

Leon, amused about Yn’s big eyes and astonished expression, chuckled and stepped aside, letting his partner in who was still watching him as if he would be an alien. A handsome one but still. Leon closed the door, "It's a tuxedo. That's what you wear on a bow and tie event.", he explained and watched how Yn rolled with her eyes.

“I know what it is but to see you in it… and by the way! Black Tie, Kennedy! It’s called Black Tie! And not ‘bow and tie’.”, Yn explained for maybe the hundredth time since they both got assigned to this secret mission. In fact, the job was easy. A rich weapons dealer had started to ‘extend’ his sortiment with some BOWs. His business was flourishing. But instead of just catching him, Yn and Leon had decided it would be better to bug the dealer to get information about his clients as well. Therefore, they were able to dig out the whole nest.

“I don’t care what these events are called. They’re all the same. It’s just to show off how rich and important everyone is.”, Leon said and leant with crossed arms against the doorframe.

“I know how much you hate these things.”, Yn said, grabbed her bag and aimed for the bathroom to change her outfit as well, “But I have to admit, you look good in this tuxedo. It suits you.”, she said through the half closed door.

Leon smirked, “Oh, really? You know, maybe you could show me how much you like my outfit?”, he asked flirtatiously.

Yn opened the door again and stepped out, “Focus on the mission, Kennedy.”

Leon was hearing her words but his mind went kinda blank as he saw her robed in a floor-length, backless, black dress. The silky-soft fabric hugged all her curves perfectly and gave much input for many, many x-rated fantasies. Slowly, Leon’s eyes wandered upwards until he met her challenging glance. Slowly, he stepped forward with a smirk, “I might hate these events but I could get used to seeing you working in such a stunning outfit.”, Leon said low.

Yn saw dirty thoughts glittering behind his steel-blue eyes and smirked, “Take a picture, it might last longer. Come, we have to go.”, she said, passed Leon and knew that he was staring at her back all the way.

**

Thirty minutes later, Yn and Leon were entering a huge, pompous decorated ballroom. Chandeliers bathed the room in dim, atmospheric light. Soft jazz music played in the background. And obviously a whole diamond mine had exploded because it was sparkling and twinkling in each corner. The room was filled with high-society and in the middle of it two special agents who tried to fit into this kind of world.

“Shall we split up?”, Leon asked low.

Still with a wealthy smile on her lips, Yn shook her head, “Let us take a round together and then, if necessary, we split up.”, she said and linked her arm with Leon’s.

The idea had been good but quickly, they had to admit that the room was too stuffed with people. And because they searched for a guy, and everyone looked kinda the same in their black suits, they had difficulties finding their subject.

Evading into a quiet corner, Yn looked up at Leon, “That’s not working. There are too many people here. Alright, we split up. I walk around a bit. You could monitor the guys who are without women like the group over there at the bar.”, she said and nodded unobtrusively into the said direction while putting a small intercom into her ear to activate it and gave Leon the other earpiece who mirrored her move. With a serious expression, her eyes met Leon’s, “If one of us finds him, the other one comes to the position.”, she said and was about to leave.

Leon held her back, “Be careful, okay?”, he said and looked her caringly but serious in the eyes.

She smirked, “Of course. I’m not the one with the reckless moves like fighting against infected dogs on a motorbike.”, and with that, she stepped back to vanish in the crowd.

Leon chuckled about her boldness and shook his head before he followed her idea to aim for the bar. He ordered a drink and while waiting for it, Leon looked left and right to check out the people around him if their target would be with them. Leon was just about to check an older man with salt-and-pepper hair as fragments of a conversation waved over to him, catching his attention.

“These women are all the same. Rich, wealthy and absolutely boring.”, one tall man said before taking a sip of his Whiskey.

“Yeah, or ugly. I mean, how many surgeries are really necessary? I get the impression that all these women here are just made out of plastic and silicone.”, another man said. He was a bit smaller than the first one.

Leon was just about to leave as the third guy said something that caught his attention to the point that he fully turned over to them, “You might be right except with this pretty thing over there. What? None of you haven’t seen her yet? Okay, then, she’s mine.”, the guy said and let it sound as if the woman was just a piece of meat and he was the lion to hunt it down.

Leon knew he had to focus on the mission and he really was about to leave the group of idiots behind but then, he noticed the way how the guy looked at the unaware victim. It was a lust filled glance that even Leon felt disgusted by the sight. The guy was pretty sure about himself that he would be successful to win the woman over this evening. The guy, tall, dark haired and looking like a lot of money, licked over his lips while his eyes showed that he looked at a point that was lower than the woman’s waist. Now more interested in who the innocent lamb might be, Leon followed the guy’s glance and felt how his blood ran hot and cold at the same time.

Yn stood there, talking with an older lady and facing the group of guys with her back. The dress gave a beautiful sight of her flawless skin. While she talked, her body moved beautifully and she even swayed a bit to the soft tune of the music so that her hair fell over her bare back, dancing a little through the air.

“You can’t have her! I saw her first. I just couldn’t say anything because I became speechless by her eyes.”, the first, tall guy said.

“By her eyes? Forget them! Look at her god damn ass. So round and juicy.”, the guy said and his eyes became filled with raw, sexual hunger.

That was enough for Leon to forget the mission for a moment as he walked over to the group, “I couldn’t miss hearing how you were talking about this young lady.” Leon said low, getting the attention of all three men at the same time, “Stay away from her. All of you. Or otherwise, things will turn ugly.”, he said with a kind of threat lingering in his voice.

One of the men stepped closer to Leon, slightly towering over the agent and looking down, “Who do you think you are, huh? Nothing we do is your concern.”

Not impressed at all, Leon stepped forward, holding the man’s glance, “She’s mine, get it? Therefore, yes, it concerns me how you are talking about her. So, do yourself a favor and stay away from her or I will become your worst nightmare. And trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”, Leon said threateningly, leaving no room for any further arguments.

The guy stared at Leon for several more moments and considered his best next step but in the end, the guy saw something in Leon’s eyes that told him to better back off. And after another few seconds, the guy stepped back, nodded to his friends and disappeared somewhere else.

Leon went back to his drink and emptied it in one big sip. As he placed the glass back on the counter, Yn stood already next to him, leaning against the bar with a smirk on her lips, "So, I'm yours, huh?", she asked low.

With a shock filled glance, he stared at her and swallowed thickly, "Oh, uhm... Well... I- I didn't like the way he looked at you.", he stammered with an apologetic glance.

Yn nodded, "Yes, I heard that.”, she said, tapping at her ear with her index finger to remind him of the intercom. As Yn saw his awkward smile, she stepped forward, “You know, to see you jealous and protective was kinda cute. But it was unnecessary, don't you think? I'm not your girlfriend."

Leon also stepped forward, a smirk was playing on his lips while he snaked his arm around her waist to bring her even closer, "Actually, we're just one date away that I can call you mine."

"Oh, really? Then, I would say we count this evening as a date, what do you think?", Yn suggested whispering against his lips which were just inches away.

"Deal.", Leon breathed before he kissed her. It was a deep kiss. Filled with hunger to show off to whom Yn belonged to. Yn tugged on his suit jacket to bring him even closer, knowing exactly where these clothes would land later this evening…

[floraltypes]

Distraction

leroy jethro gibbs x reader

fluff, drinking, mentions of sex, death,

based on earlier seasons

AN: ahh my first NCIS little drabble! requests are open so request something!

The moon was shining into the windows of the dimly lit bar. It defiantly wasn’t the nicest one you’d ever been in, but when a old friend insisted on bringing you, you gave in.

She had been babbling to you, for days, about the man who owns it and how they are sleeping around with each other. She continued to then beg for you to come and check it out, then maybe bring some of your coworkers so the guy she liked so much could have more customers.

“Come on Y/n!” Your friend, Elise, whined. She sat up from her position on the couch in your apartment, and locked her fingers around your wrist to get you to stand. “Let’s go! It’s a good place! Popular! Fun! Drinks are cheap,” She was very cheery and trying her hardest to convince you as well.

“Not now,” You groaned, trying to use your weight to stay on the couch. “Brandon is coming over and I had plans to have a nice dinner with him,” You told her, the girl giving up.

Brandon was your current boyfriend, for about two months. Both of you were always incredibly busy with your jobs, him a FBI agent, you a NCIS special agent. So, it made it very difficult to truly see each other and have fun.

✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧

He was helping with the investigation due to the victim of the crime (at the time) being a old navy friend of his. They were going to meet up and try to regain a old friendship before the man was murdered. But Brandon decided to stay a bit and try to help with the case, to find his friends murderer, and to talk to you a bit more.

“A shame to see him go. Wish I’d have see him sooner,” Brandon admitted, rubbing his eyes a little while staring at the body bag.

“I’m sorry for your loss Agent Jordon,” You put a arm on his shoulder and he looked down at you with a small smile. “Trust us, we’ll find him,” You tried to reassure him.

“Thank you Agent L/n,” He nodded, turning fully around to face you now, while they lifted up the body bag to carry it into the van. “I would hope it will be okay if I join you with finding him,” He looked towards you for a answer.

“Oh! Well, uh, I-”

“Talk to your supervisor,” Gibbs interrupted, throwing a camera into your hand. “We still need to hear about your alibi. L/n, get to work on those photos. Todd!” He called out to the other female agent who was walking over with DiNozzo.

“Yeah, Gibbs,” She walked over, fixing the hat that was covering a bit too much of her face than she wanted.

The park was empty, they had found the body slumped up next to a tree with a cup of coffee in hand, which was going to be tested by the lovely Abby, along with everything else he had on him.

“You and DiNozzo go ahead and check out the areas around here, take another camera,” He commanded Todd and DiNozzo, who soon left. “L/n, pictures,” He snapped, now standing right next to you. You quickly nodded and left to go do the job by taking some more pictures of where the body formally was.

“Sir, I hope you’ll let me join you on this investigation. I was at my office, up until I got news of his murder, you can check with coworkers of mine and even my boss,” Brandon told Gibbs, hands now in his pockets and pulling out the FBI badge.

“I know what you are,” Gibbs sneered, motioning for him to put it away. “We don’t need FBI for this, it’s our job,”

“Just for a extra eye, nothing more, I just want to know I did all I could do to get justice for my friend,”

“Come on Gibbs,” You piped up, walking over with the camera in hand and zippering up your jacket with the other. “A extra hand, another person to boss around, and that person being a FBI agent. It kinda sounds like something you might want,” You joked, slowly lowering your voice as his intimidating gaze was put on you. “Or not?”

“I obviously don’t boss you around enough that you feel the need to bother me instead of doing your job,”

“I took the photos!” You lifted up the camera and pulled up a photo of something you found near the body. “Looks like boot marks on the grass, they were bigger and I measured, bigger than our victim. That can help narrow down the search, they were also heavier boots, something someone who’s in the navy might wear,” You handed him the camera and walked to stand across from him, next to Brandon.

“You’re good,” Brandon complimented, smiling down at you.

“Than-”

“It’s the bare minimum, let’s go,” Gibbs, once again, interrupted, and the three of you started walking to his car. “Y/n, up front with me,” He commanded and you quickly jumped in the seat.

“So, can I help?” Brandon asked after there were a few minutes of silence.

“As long as you don’t get in our way,”

Once you made it back to the iconic building, you were excited to show Brandon around a bit, DiNozzo and Todd already doing some research based on some things they found.

“Oh! The autopsy is where Ducky is working at the moment. You have to go and see down there, but Ducky is a talker, so be warned. Sometimes I go down there, on paperwork days, to learn more about anatomy,” You informed the Agent who was happily listening besides you.

“L/n, you are at work, during your work hours, where you get payed to do work. Also known as working on the case, not giving tours, he can figure it out himself,” Gibbs commented, dropping off a couple of files at your desk. You let out a little groan, and apologetic smile to Brandon and walked back to your desk. “Figure out his closest friends, got it, people he was closely working next to,”

“Yes sir,” You plopped yourself down and started to open a file when another chair was soon pulled up.

“Boss is in a extra bad mood today, huh?” DiNozzo laughed, grabbing one of the files near you.

“Big surprise,” You rolled your eyes, flipping to the next page.

“I’ve got a feeling he doesn’t like little FBI agent,”

“Well of course not, he is a FBI agent after all,”

“I’m thinking for another reason,” DiNozzo sent you one last smirk before rolling his chair back to the desk next to you.

“What’s tha-”

“Need help?” Brandon wondered, pulling up a extra chair and grabbing a file. The two of you chatted while going through it. Gibbs down checking in with Abby and then Ducky to see what more they could find out.

Soon, you were all able to find out who exactly killed the victim, leaving to go to the home the man was with another navy agent. You and Brandon took the front of the house, Gibbs and Dinozzo taking the back entrance of the farm house and land, going to check where some animals were located. Todd and Mcgee then headed to a shed that was also present on the land.

You looked back at Brandon, who nodded at you, signaling it was okay to open the door, and you turned the knob. Walking into the entrance and started to sweep the area with your gun in front of you. Brandon motioned you over to a door where he was hearing noises and soon swung it open.

“Liam Han! Put the gun down!” You yelled at him, then pressing your ear piece and letting the rest of the team know you had found the man. You watched the life drain out of the mans face, the first beam of sweat truly drip down, the way his eyes widened every so slightly, and his gun quickly moving to be aimed at Brandon.

You soon shot the mans arm while he shot Brandons leg, other agents soon rushing in and putting Liam into handcuffs and helping the petty officer, who was kidnapped, out of his seat.

“Agent Jordon,” You got on your knees besides him, looking at the wound which seemed to hit a bit below his knee. “Don’t worry medics are on their way, um, are you okay?”

“I might be FBI, but I tend to due more paperwork than field work,” He laughed a little, clutching the wounded leg.

“Why wouldn’t you inform us of that?” Gibbs asked him, same tone in his voice like always.

“It’s not like I’m never on the field, I know what to do,” He didn’t look at Gibbs at all just looking at you. “But hey, maybe this little wound will make it more convincing for you to let me take you out on a date,” He smiled widely, despite his bloody leg.

“Uh.” You looked at him in disbelief and Gibbs rolled his eyes.

“Might as well call of the medics,” Gibbs commented, moving towards the door.

“Wait! No! I still need them!” Brandon called out after.

“That’s something I’m gonna have to try,” DiNozzo mentioned.

“Yeah, ‘cause it would be real charming if you did it,” Todd added.

“Sure,” You told him, laughing a bit while the medics came in to truly address his leg.

✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧

Two more dates, after the first one, he soon asked you to be his girlfriend and the two of you have been going strong for two months!

“I’m in town, please, do this one thing for me!” Elise continued to beg.

“And I never see Brandon,” You fired back. “I’ll think about it, but your flight is tomorrow, so you better go spend the last of that time with your boy toy and I’ll email you,” She quickly nodded and grabbed her stuff, saying a quick goodbye.

A few hours later Brandon arrived to your apartment, yet, not so thrilled to see you. He had a stressed look on his features and no bags in his hand, just a frown and a envelope.

“Brandon?” You got up from the couch you’d been waiting on for the past two hours and slowly walked over to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I think we should break up,” His eyes connected with yours, tears littering the edge of his eyes.

“Wha-why?”

“I need to focus on my work, I’ve always wanted to be a unit chief and in order to gain that goal, I need to do better at my job, and that means cutting off any distractions,” He explained, placing the envelope on your kitchen counter.

“Distractions?”

“I don’t mean for it to come off in a rude way, but this is just the best for me, and now you can even focus on your work more and how to deal with a insane boss,” He lightly laughed, slowly walking to you a patting your shoulder. “I hope to see you soon,” He turned back to the door and left like he was never there.

✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧ ✶ ✧

That’s how you found yourself in the crappy bar. Elise sure talked it up enough to make it sound decent, but in all reality is was one of the worse you’ve ever been too. But the drinks were kind of good and cheap, so staying a little longer didn’t seem so bad.

Later, when you indulged in a few more weeks, you realized it would be best to head back, yet Elise was off having fun with her boy and you came here with her, in her car.

“DiNozzo,” You spoke into the phone, coughing a bit afterwards. “Pick me up,”

“You’re drunk?” He asked into the phone. “Weird, I’ve only seen that a few times. Not pretty,” He laughed. “Would love to, we’ll not really, but I’m with this smoking hot blonde and she wants to do it in the shower, later,” He hung up, leaving you to dial another friend.

“Y/n?” Caitlins voiced echoed through the phone. “What’s up?”

“I’m drunk, and want to sleep, pick me up Cait, please?”

“I’m out with my family, maybe ask Abby?”

“At some weird rock concert,” You groaned. “I’m not even a crazy drunk, or that drunk, but I don’t feel comfortable driving and I just want to sleep,” You complained.

“I’ve got to go, good luck,” Caitlin then hung up, leaving you to let your forehead fall onto the bar counter.

“Ugh, I guess I have no choice,” You groaned, again, and dialed a number you were dreading to call.

“L/n? It’s late, what is it?”

“Gibbs, I need to call in a favor,” You quietly voiced into the phone.

“What’s this, favor?”

“Can you pick me up,”

“You sound twelve,”

“I can’t drive and everyone’s busy, come on, for me?”

“Tch, I was finally making some real progress on my boat, but now I have to go and save a dumb drunk coworker of mine,” He grumbled underneath his breath, which was still able to be heard through the phone. “Tell me the address,”

You soon told him and hung up. Paying the money you owed the bartender and getting your purse all ready for when the grey-haired man would show up.

“This place is a dump,” A familiar voice muttered, stepping through the door. “What the hell?”

“Gibbs!” You shot up and tumbled your way towards him. “I absolutely hate this place, and fuck-”

“Woah,” He caught your body which just about fell onto him. “You sure can talk normally but not walk normally,” He noted, swinging one of your arms to fall onto his shoulders and his to snake around your waist.

Since the place was about deserted it was easy to get a parking spot in the front and guide you to the car. Once Gibbs opened the passenger door you flopped down, and Gibbs leaned over to buckle your seatbelt, your eyes closed.

“Fell asleep, already, damn, I don’t know where you live,” He mumbled, getting into the drivers seat and pulling out of the nasty bar.

“Gibbs,” You whispered, stirring around in the chair and moving one of your hands to reach for his thigh, though his full attention was already on you, the red beaming onto your features.

“Y/n,” He spoke again, ignoring the hand that was rested on his more lower thigh. “I’m taking you to my place, I have a extra bedroom so it shouldn’t be a problem. And if it is, I don’t care because you’re the one who decided to get drunk,”

“Mmk,” You hummed. “Gibbs,”

“Yes?” He moved his attention back to the road, the color changing.

“You’re my favorite agent,” You laughed a little after, now the true side affects of when you were sleepy and drank too much, kicking in.

“Thanks, I guess,”

“Am I yours?”

“Sure,”

“Good,” You closed your eyes again, letting a grin take over your features. “Gibbs,”

“Yes,” He said with a bit more irritation this time.

“I miss Brandon,”

“Weren’t you supposed to see him tonight?”

“He broke up with me, said I was a distraction. So he needs to cut me off and focus now. Am I a distraction to you?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled a little at the droppy tone of your words and the funny memories of you flashing through his mind at the question. “But sometimes distractions are a good thing. Like distracting you from the troubles that just can’t be fixed at the moment, that’s what you do for me, so it isn’t a horrible thing,”

“Ah,”

“Brandon was a idiot anyway,”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause he was FBI,”

“Yeah, that’s true, but,” Gibbs stopped for a moment, thinking about the words he was about to mutter, contemplating if he was willing to take the risk or not. “He’s also a idiot for getting rid of a distraction like you,”

“You mean that? Gibbs I-” You stopped your sentence after feeling a pair of lips being pushed up against your own. You opened you eyes wide to look at the man who had connected his with yours. “Gibbs what about rule-”

“Who cares, I made the rules, therefore I can break them,” He smirked, grabbing the hand in his lap. “Let’s head to my house and get you to bed and some medicine in your stomach for the hangover you’re going to have tomorrow,”

“Oh, okay,”

“After I finish up on my boat,”

[ssahotchhner]

i’ll crawl home to her (LRPD part two)

PART ONE

hello again! thank u all again for paying attention to my first work! this has been a lot of fun for me to write the last few days. please feel free to send me any requests. if anyone was curious, the title of the first part was the title of a song by hozier, the title of this part is taken from another hozier song: work song (: i hope you guys like it and thank you again for reading!! pairing: hotch x reader

words: 7k

warnings: again, usual cm stuff, rape mention, kidnapping, knives, guns, bombs, cursing, some smut

chat with me!

You’ve been laying on your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling for hours. You thought you’d be sad, upset with yourself, but instead you’re angry. After you’d been stewing in it for a while, you stand and leave your room, ignoring the digital clock at your bedside that tries to remind you it’s nearly 2AM.

You storm all the way down the hallway until you’re outside Aaron’s door, knocking aggressively with no reprieve until the door opens. You ignore the feeling in your stomach at seeing him shirtless with pajama bottoms hanging low at his hips, his hair mussed from sleep. You feel a pang of guilt at waking him. You storm past him before he can invite you inside.

“Take back the suspension, now.” You demand, spinning to face him.

He slowly closes the door, “Agent, it’s 2AM. Have you slept?” He looks you over, answering his own question, “You haven’t slept in over 48 hours, we can talk about this in the morning.”

“Why are you punishing me for something I didn’t do?” Angry tears entered your eyes.

Hotch looks exhausted as he pulls a shirt over his head and sits on the edge of the bed, “I’m not punishing you--”

“Well it sure feels that way. What, you couldn’t stand to be around me, working with me anymore because of the other night so this is how you get rid of me?” The tears overflow, pouring down your cheeks, “Is that it then?”

He shakes his head sadly, “You know that’s not true.”

“Then what?!”

He takes a breath, “I can’t have you working in the field right now knowing you lied during your psych eval and you know that. You put yourself and the team at risk when you’re out in the field, keeping things from all of us.” You start to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop you, “When we get back, you can go through another evaluation without lying. And then, if you pass, you can have your gun and badge back, no questions asked.” You’re quiet and he has to ask, “Why did you lie?” He can’t hide the hurt in his voice, “You could’ve told me.”

Your face crumples, “I lied because I didn’t want you to look at me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like a victim. Like damaged goods. Broken.”

He finally stands to come over to you, “I’ve never thought that, not for a single moment. I think you’re incredibly brave, stronger than you know.” He takes your face in his hands and gently tilts it up until you’re looking at him and brushes away your tears with the pads of his thumbs, “This doesn’t change any of that.” 

You push him away and his arms fall to his sides again, “Then why do you keep treating me like an inconvenience?”

He decides now he should finally be honest with you, “Because the way I feel about you scares me, it’s inappropriate and I don’t know how to handle it. Haley’s the only woman I’ve ever been with, I don’t know how… I didn’t know if you even wanted me.”

You manage the smallest of smiles, “Thought you were supposed to be a profiler.”

He smirks and looks down, relieved that you’re finally, finally not upset with him, “I’m not good at profiling when it comes to you.”

“Well?” You ask and he looks back up at you again.

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

You smile, “If I want you.”

He smirks again, his brown eyes looking you up and down as he walks to you until he has you backed against a wall, “Do you want me?” He whispers in your ear, his breath against your skin sends chills down your spine.

You can only nod as he pulls back to look at your face and then his mouth is on yours. Soft and gentle at first, but then as his hands explore your body, his lips become needier, more insistent. You moan softly when he begins kissing and biting your neck, hands traveling lower until he’s rubbing you over your pants, “Is this okay?” He sounds so calm and in control, unlike the breathy mess he’s made you.

“Yes,” You say and bring his face back to yours.

He pulls away to look in your eyes, “I can stop, if you want.” 

“No.” You say quickly, “Don’t stop.”

So he carries you to the bed, carefully removing your clothing as he kisses you all over. Soon, you’re both naked and he lays on his side, pulling away a bit as his eyes roam over you. “What’s the matter?” You say.

He shakes his head and runs his fingers along your shoulders, “Nothing, you’re perfect. I just want to look at you.”

You smile and run your hands down his chest, then back up to his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. “We can go slow,” You murmur and then slide a hand between his legs as he nearly gasps, “If you want.” You pump him once, twice, and he’s practically growling at you, quickly flipping the two of you so he’s kneeling between your legs.

He slowly pushes himself inside you, burying his face in your neck. You feel his smile against your skin when you moan with pleasure at being filled up. He thrusts slow and gentle, his eyes locking on yours, half to make sure you’re still okay and half for his own pleasure. It’s bliss watching how your mouth parts open that little bit, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head. Everything you do drives him absolutely crazy. Watching you and hearing the sound of your moans that he had imagined so often when he was alone is what sent him over the edge, and just like that you think it’s over. But just moments after finishing, he slides out of you and whispers, “Your turn” before his face disappears between your legs.

All you can really think as his mouth makes quick work of you, digging his fingers into your thighs and sneaking glances at you, is how you’re ever going to be able to work with him again without thinking of this. It’s that sight, the sight of your boss, normally so dominant, submissive to you now as he lays between your thighs, has that knot in your stomach unraveling as your back arches.

Once you’ve ridden out your high, he climbs back up next to you. You both lie on your backs, out of breath next to each other. When you both catch your breath, Aaron immediately pulls you to him until most of your body rests on his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve thought about doing that.” He says.

You smile, “Me too.”

“Really?” You can tell from his tone you’ve fueled his already inflated ego.

“Yeah, Aaron, everytime you roll up your sleeves, or shoot a gun, or wear a bulletproof vest,” You let out a low whistle and he laughs. You smile again, “I’ve missed making you do that.”

You’re both quiet for a while and you would think he was sleeping if not for the way his fingers kept stroking your arm, “Aaron?” You say after a while.

“Hm?”

You hesitate, knowing that once you say this you can never go back. But, you spit it out, “I love you.”

His hand stills on your arm and the silence feels so loud, you can hear your own heartbeat, “You should get some sleep.”

You’re glad for the darkness so he can’t see the pain on your face, or notice the way your heart shatters. You have no right to be upset, you know this, and yet… You turn away from him and you feel the bed shift as he does the same. And once his breathing evens out, you dress and sneak out to head back to your hotel room. You think he’s asleep, but he’s not. He’s too busy beating himself up for not saying it back to you when he knows he feels it.

Quickly, you pack your suitcase all while brushing tears from your eyes. You book your own flight home, not able to bear the jet ride home. Not only had you been suspended, but you’d been so vulnerable with your boss and he had rejected you. 

You send a quick text to JJ to let the team know you won’t be on the jet and ignore all the texts that follow asking you what’s going on. Aaron doesn’t bother contacting you. Why would he? He knows why you’re not here.

He’s quiet and resentful the entire plane ride back and everyone knows better than to ask him what was wrong.

***

When you get back to your apartment you immediately head for your bar cart, pouring a heavy amount of tequila over ice and chugging it back. You knew halfway through you would regret it, but you finished anyway. Then, you carefully locked your door and headed to the shower. 

***

“Maybe we should go check on her.” Penelope was telling JJ and Emily two days later at the bullpen. “She’s still not answering her phone.”

Aaron feels incredible guilt overhearing this conversation. He had eventually tried to call you as well to no avail. He was starting to get worried, but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to go. It would be better if the rest of them went.

“What happened with the two of you that night?” Rossi comes to stand next to Aaron.

“Nothing,” He lies, “She’s still upset about the suspension I suppose.”

“I know she went to talk to you that night, Hotch.” He adds at Aaron’s look, “She’s not the only one on this team with insomnia. She didn’t leave again for hours and then she bought her own plane ticket. What did you say to her?”

He sighs, “It’s not so much what I said, but what I didn’t say.”

***

There’s a knocking at your door, you think. It’s hard to hear it over the record player that’s blasting the saddest songs you know of. But, sure enough, definitely knocking. You have half a mind to bury yourself under your weighted blanket and go back to sleep. You’re sure it’s Penelope’s voice you hear outside though, and how could you ignore her?

Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed and to the door. Swinging it open, you see Penelope, JJ, and Emily, standing at your door with takeout and several bottles of wine. There’s also a vase of red roses which causes you to frown, “Roses?”

“Oh, not from us,” Emily says quickly, “They were just sitting out here when we got here. Can we come in?”

You wish you could say no to them, but you know it’s your own fault that they’re here. After all, you hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts for two days. You step aside and they file in. You pick up the vase of flowers and bring them inside. They’re wilting a bit, meaning they had probably been waiting outside for you for at least a day. You set them on a table, knowing your colleagues are watching you closely and pluck a card from the flowers.

I’m sorry. -A

Wordlessly, you toss the card on the table, pick up all the roses and plop them in the trash. Nobody says anything and you pretend to ignore Penelope as she puts new water in the vase and then carefully takes the roses out of the trash and back in the vase. “Hotch?” JJ asks as you climb back in bed. Emily turns off the music.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You say quietly. 

“That’s okay,” JJ says, sitting on the edge of your bed, “Can we talk about why you’re not at work, then?”

“I’m suspended, you guys know that.”

“Hotch said if you did another psych eval you could come back.” Emily says. 

Penelope has scooched herself next to your head and tries to run her fingers through your hair, “Oh, honey, when was the last time you brushed your hair?”

You swat her hand away, “I won’t pass another psych eval.”

Penelope gets off the bed to find a hair brush. “If you tell us what really happened… with Bobby Tiller…” You flinch when JJ says his name, “We can help you through it.”

Penelope’s back and starts gently working her way through your tangles. You sigh, “Penelope can’t handle hearing about that kind of stuff.”

“If it’ll help you, yes I can.” She says quickly.

You frown, “Garcia--”

“I know what you guys deal with everyday. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you guys unload on me about it every now and then?”

You squeeze her hand, she was so good. “I’ll need some wine first, then.”

***

“A sexual sadist, where would he keep them?” You murmur to yourself, “He’s stayed in his comfort zone this whole time,” You make a circle on the map around the places where the victims were taken and then dumped, all within a five mile radius, “He needs somewhere no one would hear their screams…” You take out your phone and dial Penelope, “Garcia, can you triangulate the location of the last three body dumps and tell me if there’s any sort of abandoned building in the middle, maybe a church? A warehouse?”

“Can I?” The sound of her rapid typing fills your ears, “Y/N, you wound me so.”

You smile, waiting for her answer. “Bingo, you genius girl. There’s an abandoned factory right in the middle, sending you the address now.”

You’re already grabbing your coat, “Don’t tell anyone, Penelope, but you’re my favorite person on this team.”

She laughs, “Should I call you some backup?”

“No time,” You’re running to the SUV outside the police precinct now, “I’m the closest, everyone else is spread out. If I wait for them, the other girls will die.”

“Y/N, you can’t go there by yourself, I’ve seen those bodies, those victims--”

“Garcia, I’m fine, I can handle myself, just tell the team where I’m going.” You hang up before she can argue further, plugging in the address she gave you to the GPS in the car.

***

Aaron’s phone rings on his way back to the police department with Derek in the passenger seat, “Garcia, what’ve you got?”

“Sir, I’ve just sent an address to everyone, you have to go there now.” The panic in her voice has Hotch immediately making a U turn without question.

“What’s going on?” He demands as he drives, turning on his sirens.

“Y/N figured out where he’s keeping the girls, she left without backup,” Both Derek and Aaron visibly tensed at this news, “I told her I’d call backup and not to go without it, but she insisted there wasn’t time.” Garcia was nearly on the verge of tears.

“You did what you were supposed to do, baby girl, we’ll go get her.” Morgan reassures before Hotch hangs up and immediately calls you.

“Y/L/N.” You pick up on the third ring. You had considered letting it go to voicemail, knowing Hotch was going to order you not to do what you were about to do and knowing you were going to disobey him.

“I’m ordering you to wait for backup before you go in there.”

You sigh, “You know if I do that, they’ll die.”

“They might still die and you’ll just be another body to add to the pile.”

“Or I might get there in time.”

“This is not a request, it’s an order, agent. We’re on our way.”

“Would you wait?”

“Excuse me?”

“If it was you sitting outside where there might be two girls still alive inside, would you wait?”

He’s quiet for a moment, “I don’t fit his victimology the way you do.”

“I don’t recall ‘armed FBI agent’ being included in the victimology.”

“Don’t do this.” His voice is a desperate whisper and it’s almost enough to get you to stop.

“Just drive faster.” You say and take the phone away from your ear, hearing your boss yell your name until you hang up.

But you didn’t make it to the girls. He was waiting for you, you didn’t even have a chance. He came up behind you only moments after you hung up with Hotch and hit you hard enough on the head to knock you unconscious.

He had your hands tied and packed you away in his pickup truck, driving away long before Hotch and Morgan arrive on the scene.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, as Aaron’s running back from the building. You weren’t inside. Morgan shakes his head when Hotch meets his eyes, “He’s got her.” He says resolutely, pointing to your badge, gun, and cellphone that lay in the dirt by the tire of your SUV. “She didn’t even make it inside.”

Aaron’s head is spinning, only moments away from losing control. He has you. “Hotch, keep it together, we’ll find her, okay?” Morgan says quietly.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Morgan!” He shouts, “A sexual sadist has her right now--”

  “And you’re wasting time letting your emotions get the best of you, man! Come on now, look-- LOOK!” Derek directs his attention to the dirt road, “He couldn’t have gotten far with her, look at the tire tracks. Let’s go, we’ll call the team on the way.”

They drove only two minutes before they couldn’t decipher the tire tracks anymore, Hotch bangs on the steering wheel, cursing before dialing Spencer, “Reid, where else would he go? He knew we were coming, where would he bring her?”

“I-- I don’t know, somewhere he’s familiar with, he could have had a backup location, it has to be nearby. If he knows we’re coming he knows he won’t have a lot of time with her, he’d want it to be close so he could--”

“That’s enough boy wonder, call us when you have an address.” Morgan says, taking the phone from Hotch and hanging it up. “She made the choice to go, she knew what she was doing. She’s smart, she’s resourceful, she’s gonna make it.”

Hotch ignores him, only drives further. His knuckles turn white with how he’s clenching the wheel, just barely keeping his anger in check. If he has to find your body, he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

***

When you wake, you’re only aware that you’re being carried. You do a quick assessment while pretending to be unconscious and find your hands tied. The weight of your gun is missing from your hip. You’re still outside, you can tell from the wind and the sun, but you won’t be for long. Your guess is this will be your last shot to escape.

You count to ten and then you roll from his arms. You’ve surprised him and you’re able to kick up at him once you’ve fallen, hitting him in the groin. With your hands tied, you struggle to get to your feet, but you do and you run like hell, looking for a road.

Your head still hurts from where he hit you and you’re dizzier than you would like, so eventually he catches up to you again. You can no longer deny your human instincts and you scream, hysterical as he tackles you. “Aaron!” You yell, “I’m here! Help!”

To your horror, the unsub only laughs, “Will you shut the hell up?”

And then he chokes you, not to kill, but to get you unconscious. It works. And then he drags you to the bunker.

***

“If this call isn’t to tell me where she is, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Hotch, we talked to the unsub’s parents, they talked about an abandoned bunker just a mile south of where he was holding the girls. He used to go there when he was a teenager, probably to do drugs or kill animals.”

Hotch is already swinging the car around, “Give me an address.”

***

When you wake again, first everything’s only white. Then, you see his face. 

“I can smell the fear on you.” He smiles.

You manage to keep your face neutral. What would Emily do? Hotch? Spencer? “I’m not afraid of you.” You manage, and to your own surprise, your voice doesn’t shake.

“You know what I am,” He traces a knife along your face, “What I’ve done to those women. You more than anyone… You should be terrified of me.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart.” He rips the buttons of your shirt loose and you try not to flinch, “We’re just getting started.”

***

“Morgan, take the back, I’ll take the front.” Hotch orders, “Prentiss, you’re with Morgan, Reid you’re with me. Let’s go.”

From the profile, they all knew he was planning on being caught. He would come quietly. All they could hope was that they got to him before he finished his final job. You.

They entered quietly, but they could hear soft crying deeper in. Alive, you were alive. Hotch and Spencer carefully cleared each hallway until they got to the room you were in. The unsub had you pulled to his chest, your clothes ripped and barely covering you. You were whimpering, tears shining on your cheeks and it took Aaron absolutely everything not to abandon protocol and tackle him.

Instead, he points his gun steady, “Bobby Tiller, it’s over, drop the knife.”

“Why?” He says, smiling, “Why shouldn’t I kill her in front of you?” His smile widens, “You’re Aaron, aren’t you?” He laughs now, “She cried out for you. Outside. Where were you, Aaron?”

Aaron’s restraint is hanging by a thread, he tries not to let this information get to him. “I said put it down!” He yells.

At that moment, he sees Morgan and Prentiss coming in from behind, guns raised.

“I bet it would just destroy you to watch me kill her, I can see it in your eyes. Wouldn’t that be a fun way to go out? I would win.”

“You haven’t won anything, you either die here or you rot in jail.”

“Exactly, which means I have nothing to lose by killing her.” He was done talking, was about to slit your throat when a shot rang out from behind. It was Morgan and he had hit Bobby square in the back. 

You fall forward, hyperventilating a bit as Spencer rushes to you, pulling you into his arms and telling you it’s going to be okay. Hotch watches you, but keeps his distance, careful not to let the enormous relief he feels show except in the way his shoulder slump forward. “I need a medic.” He relays to the backup that’s on its way here and then he walks out of the bunker, letting Morgan and Reid help you out.

On the plane ride back, he sits by you as you look out the window, “Are you alright?”

You spare him a glance and then gaze back out the window, “I’ll be fine.”

He’s quiet for another moment, not wanting to ask what he has to ask. “Did he…?”

“No.” You answer quickly. “He didn’t have time.”

A small victory, he knows, but a victory nonetheless, “You’ll have to undergo a psych evaluation before I can allow you back in the field.”

“I know.”

“Take at least a week off and then we’ll schedule the evaluation and if you’re cleared you’re welcome back whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, “Okay.”

He lets a few minutes pass before he says anything else, “Was he telling the truth? Did you call for me by name?”

You shrug indifferently, smiling, but he can hear the tears in your voice, “I knew you and Derek were probably nearby. We were still outside and I could see the road. So I tried. That’s all.”

He chews the inside of his cheek, fists clenched beneath the table between them, “I’m sorry.”

You’re already shaking your head, “Don’t do that. You got to me in time. It was my decision to go inside.”

He nods, “And if you hadn’t shown up, those girls would be dead.”

You manage a smaller smile. Bobby Tiller had had to abandon the other girls when you showed up so Morgan and Hotch were able to call them an ambulance before they left to find you. “I know.”

“I would have done it.”

“Hm?”

“You asked me before you went if I would’ve gone in alone. I would have.”

You smile again, but your eyes are sad, “I know.”

***

“But he did, rape you, didn’t he?” Emily said quietly.

There were silent tears streaming down both yours and Penelope’s faces. You nod, “Yeah. It didn’t last very long, but yes he did.”

“Did he… Did he torture you the way he did with the other women?” Emily has to ask, has to know if you’re hiding anything else from them.

You’re already shaking your head, “No,” And at Emily’s insistent stare, you repeat yourself, “No, I swear. He held me at knifepoint while he did it which, you know, cut me a little bit,” You rub at your chest, though the shallow cuts had long ago healed, “But I swear, he didn’t have time for much else before you guys found me.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” JJ reaches out and squeezes your arm.

You shrug, “It’s alright. It was my choice to go in there alone, I knew what might happen.”

“That doesn’t mean you deserve what happened.” Emily says.

“I know.” You nod.

Penelope’s been quiet since she finished brushing your hair, now just mindlessly running her hands through it, “How have you just been functioning as usual since you came back after that?” Her voice shakes and you feel terrible for exposing her to this.

You squeeze her hand and shrug, “You just… learn to adapt. I knew you were all watching my every move. I didn’t want anyone worried about me and so I made sure they had nothing to worry about. Until this case.”

“What happened in the interrogation room that had Hotch so shook up?”

“Well,” You sighed, “I played the role of potential victim, made him like me, forgot he was uncuffed and egged him on until he tried to strangle me.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Penelope chided.

“You could pass another psych eval.” Prentiss said, “You seem to be coping better than most people.”

“I have nightmares.” You admit, “It’s why I don’t sleep on the jet anymore. I don’t want any of you to see that.”

“We’ll help you through,” JJ says, “If you want to come back you should come back. The team needs you.”

You scoff, “You guys don’t need me.”

“Excuse me, fairy queen of the universe, but you don’t get a say in that.” Penelope tugs on a piece of your hair.

“We miss you.” JJ says sincerely.

You sigh, “Okay. I’ll, uh, go see Hotch tomorrow.”

“There will be black SUV parked here if you haven’t gotten your butt in the office by 10AM, understand?” Penelope teases.

“Yes, yes, now everybody out of my apartment so I can sleep.”

The girls laugh on their way out and when you close the door you sigh and lean your back against it, only to see the roses sitting on your table again. You chew on your lip for a moment before shutting off all the lights in the apartment and climbing into bed. You would deal with Hotch tomorrow.

***

You ignored the whispers of your colleagues as you walked into the bullpen, marching straight into Hotch’s office and closing the door behind you. The smell of his cologne filled your nose the farther you walked into his office. You tried to ignore the memories it triggered.

He looks up and for a moment he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Y/N.”

You smirk, “Bet you thought you got rid of me.”

“You cut your hair.”

It was true, you had decided to give yourself bangs in a fit of insomnia last night. You thought they looked cute, “Nothing gets by you, unit chief.”

He hasn’t cracked a smile this whole time and he still doesn’t, “If you want to transfer to a different unit, I can make that happen.”

You’re shaking your head before he can finish, “Regardless of whatever happened between us, this team is my family. I don’t want to work anywhere else.”

He watches you carefully, “Then it’s time for your psych eval, I can have someone meet with you in an hour. In the meantime, I’m sure the team’s missed you, you can go chat with them.” He looks back down at his work, not waiting for you to leave.

“Thank you for the flowers.”

He looks back up, “I thought you maybe threw them away.”

“I did, actually, Penelope took them out of the trash. So on my table, they stay.” He almost laughs. “What are you sorry for, Aaron?”

His jaw clenches when you say his name. “For your suspension, for humiliating you in front of your colleagues, for crossing a line with you that I never should have even toed.”

You nod slowly, “So you regret it. What we did.”

Hotch glances out the window of his office, making sure no one’s around, “I… regret hurting you. Not what we did.”

“Spencer thinks you’re in love with me, you know?”

He frowns, “Does he?”

“He said you lost your mind when I was taken. I told him you would act that way had any team member been taken, but he insisted that it was different.”

“Is that all, agent?” He says after staring at you for a moment, dismissing you.

“Yes, sir.” You swallow, “That’ll be all.”

And just like that he’s back to his paperwork. You try to tell yourself it doesn’t bother you, but your heart aches all the same as you leave his office and head towards your colleagues. Spencer is the first to run to you, making you smile as he crushes you into a hug and catches you up on everything you’ve missed. Everyone talks to you for a while, but then they soon get back to work. “Did you talk to Hotch?” Emily asked when everyone had gotten back to their work.

“Yeah. We talked.” You say flatly.

“I don’t like that tone.”

You shrug, “Maybe he doesn’t love me or maybe he’s not ready, but he won’t tell me which, so. It doesn’t matter, it’s probably better this way.”

Emily doesn’t tell you, but she’s noticed that since you left his office, SSA Aaron Hotchner hasn’t stopped watching you. He was definitely in love with you, it was just a matter of time before he admitted it.

***

You passed your psych eval and practically skipped to Hotch’s office to get your gun and badge back. When he saw you walk in, he immediately reached into his desk drawer to retrieve them for you and placed them on his desk. “I’m thinking about requesting a transfer.”

“Hotch, I already told you, I don’t want--”

“Not for you, for me.”

You pull your hand away from your gun and badge as if you’ve been burned, “You can’t.”

“It’s irresponsible for us to be working on the same team together like this.”

You shake your head, “If anything we make this team better for it, you can’t…” You let out a shaky breath, “I swear, Hotch, I’ll never cross that line again if it means you staying--”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”

The world seems to sort of tip on its axis, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you even understand how difficult it is to be in this room with you right now and not touch you?”

You stare at him as if you’ve never seen him before. Slowly, you sink into the seat across from his desk, “Hotch, you can’t leave. The team needs you.”

“They’ll be just fine without me.”

“I need you.” You’re staring at his desk, unable to meet his eyes after the admission, “Please don’t take away one of the only things in this job that help me to cope with what we see everyday.”

He’s quiet and you risk a look at him. He’s watching you and you swear he’s looking at you tenderly, but it’s only for a moment before his usual stoic mask falls back into place, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, agent. JJ should be briefing us on a new case soon, you should go get resettled.”

You debate staying, arguing with him until he promises to stay, but you know from how vulnerable he’s been with you already that you’re on thin ice. Reluctantly, you take your badge and gun and leave his office.

***

You’ll admit it, you’re distracted as JJ debriefs you all in the conference room. This time, it’s a serial bomber and you hate to say it, but you’re relieved to not be dealing with a sexual sadist again. Bombs are Morgan’s specialty, so he speaks through most of the debriefing.

“Everyone, get your things together. Wheels up in twenty.” Hotch says before leaving the room.

“Y/N.” You look up to see Derek watching you, “What’s going on now?”

You tense at the hint of annoyance in his voice, but he should be annoyed. Yours and Hotch’s personal relationship has thrown this team for more than a week now. You clear your throat, “Hotch is thinking of transferring out of the BAU. Because of me.”

The room goes still, “He can’t.” Reid says first.

You can’t meet any of their eyes. This was all your fault.

“I’ll talk to him.” Rossi says quietly and leaves the room.

“If it comes to that, I’ll resign first.” You try to assure them, “I won’t let him step down.”

“We need both of you on this team.” JJ said firmly.

You nodded, but you knew it wasn’t true. Aaron was more essential to the BAU, it wasn’t a secret. He knew everyone’s strengths and weaknesses better than they did. His authority was able to demand respect and admiration, while also being a friend to everyone here. He couldn’t be replaced.

Rossi and Hotch sat in the back of the jet, voices low as they argued back and forth. The rest of the team pretended to not eavesdrop, but you were just watching Aaron. He was stressed, more than normal when working a case. You hated that you were the source of that. You wish you could drape your arms around the back of his shoulders, squeeze them, kiss his temple, promise him it would all be alright.

But he didn’t want that. You shift your focus to the window on the jet.

***

When the house exploded in front of you and Morgan, you kept running until he grabbed you, “Stop, stop! They’re gone!”

“They could still be in there!” You scream and fight against him, but he’s stronger than you.

“They’re gone, Y/N.”

You angrily push him off and walk in the other direction, feeling the need to break something. There were kids in that house.

“What the hell was that?” Hotch is fuming when you and Morgan come back to the precinct, but his anger is directed at you. The entire room goes silent, all eyes on the two of you.

“Hotch, back off.” Morgan warns.

“You should’ve gotten there in plenty of time, what happened?”

You glower at him, not in the mood to be humiliated again in front of everyone, “We got there as fast as we could, the bomb went off earlier than expected.”

“There were children in there.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” You yell now, your angry tears finally spilling over, “What, do you think I wanted this to happen?”

“Y/N, enough.” Morgan whispers harshly.

“You’re out of line, agent.” Hotch is calm again and it makes you feel crazy, how he can so quickly turn off his emotions.

You shake your head and walk by him, “This is bullshit.” You mutter.

You expect him to continue yelling at you, but instead he puts a forceful hand on your back and ushers you into a private room, “Is there a problem, agent?” He asks once he’s closed the door.

“Me?” You raise your eyebrows, “You want to know if I have a problem? You’re the one who attacked me for no reason as if I don’t feel shitty enough already for not getting to that family fast enough.”

“Why did you tell them about the transfer?”

“Oh,” You nearly laugh, “Oh, is that what this is about?”

“It wasn’t your place.”

“Oh, it wasn’t? What was it you said to me about keeping things from the team? It puts us all in danger.”

“This is not the same and you know it.”

You scoff and throw your hands up in the air, “Well, lesson learned, I guess you shouldn’t tell me things anymore. Can I go now?”

He’s watching you with his arms crossed. He knows he should apologize, but he can’t bring himself to. He nods and you leave the room, slamming the door on the way out. He watches Prentiss reach out to you and you brush her off as you storm out of the precinct. He wishes he would stop doing things to upset you, but for some reason he can’t seem to stop himself.

***

You avoid him the rest of the day and after finally calling it a day at nearly midnight, the team heads back to the hotel. You spend the night making coffee and going over the suspect list when there’s a knock on your door.

You open it without checking the peep hole, thinking it has to be Spencer or Emily, wanting to talk about the case. Instead, Aaron stands at your door. His suit jacket and tie are missing, but otherwise he’s still in his work clothes. “May I come in?”

You take a step back and wordlessly allow him inside before closing the door behind you. “You should really check who’s outside the door before answering.”

“Did you come here to lecture me, sir?”

He glances around the room, “You should be resting, not working on the case.”

“Yes, well, someone reminded me today what a terrible job I’ve been doing so I’m trying to make up for it.”

His eyes dart to yours and you think you see shame there, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your best--”

“Well obviously, my best isn’t enough.” He opens his mouth to argue, but you stop him, “Do you need something, sir?”

He sighs and shakes his head, looking at the floor, “It’s… driving me insane being around you and knowing how we left things.”

You sigh and turn away from him, “I don’t want to talk about this, Hotch--”

“Please stop calling me that.” He says breathlessly.

The desperation in his voice makes you turn back to him, “Aaron,” You say slowly instead, “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you, I understand now that you don’t feel the same and that’s fine, I can deal with it--”

“The problem is that I do feel the same and I have felt that way for longer than I care to admit.”

You frown, “Then… why?”

“I don’t want to ruin your career and I worry that this would. You’re a woman in the FBI, there are men in the bureau who would… tear you apart for being romantically involved with a superior.”

“So what? I’ll prove them wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time a man in the bureau underestimated me, but you know that.”

He sighs, “Yes, I remember when you applied to the BAU. You were from Hostage and Rescue, the only woman there at the time and they practically benched you. But you knew you were more than capable.”

“I’m not afraid of them, Aaron. Now say it to me.”

He steps close to you, his proximity overwhelming all of your senses, “Are you absolutely sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure.”

“In that case,” He brings a hand to your face and you lean into his palm, “I’m in love with you.” He gives you that small smile, the one where his eyebrows relax for once, out of their permanent scowl.

You smile, but you don’t answer, giggling a bit when he leans in to kiss you. “I like the new hair, by the way.” He says between kisses. 

You hum contentedly as he runs his fingers through it, “I love you, too, Aaron.”

He stays in your hotel room all night and this time, neither of you sneak out in the middle of the night.

***

You and Aaron aren’t overly affectionate in front of your colleagues, but they notice the change between you immediately as you board the plane. When you sit next to him while still in discussion with Emily, he looks at you and smiles. And then, when you finally fall asleep on the jet, your head rests on Aaron’s shoulder. If your colleagues look under the table in front of you (they do) they’ll see Aaron’s hand resting on your thigh. 

Emily is shaking her head at Aaron while you sleep, “What?” He asks without looking at her.

“Nothing, I’m just happy you guys finally figured it out.”

“Agreed,” Spencer interjected, “I was beginning to think you’d kill each other first.”

Aaron simply chuckles and kisses your forehead when he thinks no one’s looking. “Hotch,” Morgan says and Aaron looks over, “I know you’re my boss and all, but you ever hurt her we’re gonna have to fight it out, you understand?”

Hotch only smiles again, “I would expect nothing less.”

Nobody notices how you’re also smiling, quietly faking sleep as an excuse to cuddle up to Aaron.

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter eighteen

Helloooo I almost posted this yesterday as a thank you gift and then I totally got caught up in schoolwork. Gotta love finals season am I right

Anywho, thank y’all so much for 1.7k followers <3 Here’s a long ass chapter that’s a good ol’ mix of fluff and angst xx.

Chapter Warnings: waking-up-together kinda fluff, no sexytimes but there are some ~suggestive~ comments of course, ANGST at the end (i’m so sorry), the end of this case is very near on the horizon

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Aaron wakes you when his first alarm goes off at 5a.m. It’s way too fucking early in your opinion, but you know he wants you to have time to go back to Emily and JJ’s room to get ready for the day.

Still, being woken by a kiss on your forehead is something you can see yourself getting used to. Not to mention using his chest as a pillow all night.

You tilt your head to capture his lips in a sweet kiss, not caring that the both of you probably have disgusting morning breath right now.

He pulls away first, nudging your nose with his before he rests his forehead on yours, looking deep into your eyes. “Good morning, sweet girl.”

You can’t help the smile that splits your lips. “Good morning.” You close your eyes in your flustered state, burying your face down into his chest. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I want you to stay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But we’ve got a job to do.”

“I know,” you sigh, opening your eyes to bring yourself back to reality. Then, you hook your arms around his neck, starting to grin. “Same thing tonight?”

He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Depends on how much of a good girl you are today.”

“Ooh, a challenge,” you tease. “I dunno…I’m feeling pretty bratty this morning.”

You feel his arm tighten around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him in warning.

“I’m just teasing,” you murmur, propping your chin on his chest, giving him your best eyes.

But he isn’t fazed. “I know. I’m keeping track.”

So, naturally, you pout. “Fine.”

“Strike two.”

“I have a feeling this isn’t like baseball. Three strikes and I’m out?”

“Are you trying to find out?”

“Mm, maybe?” You grin, but, as always, the FBI Agent part of your brain comes back to life. “If we didn’t have to be downstairs soon, I’d say yes. But I probably should go get dressed.”

“Understood,” Aaron replies, a small grin on his lips too. “I suppose even as your boss, I can’t keep you here.”

“As my boss, we’re technically not even supposed to be in the same bed together,” you remind him with a snort, but seriousness comes over him. “What?”

“We still need to talk,” he says quietly. “Really talk about this, but right now I just want you to know...I don’t regret this. I want this. No matter the consequences.”

“Me too,” you whisper, fingernails gently scratching the base of his skull, your weak attempt at comfort. “Do you think there’ll be consequences?”

He sighs, and you rise and fall with his chest. “I don’t know.” He pauses. “If Strauss finds out somehow, maybe. I don’t know if keeping it from her until she inevitably finds out is better than telling her ourselves, but…”

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him with a small smile. “But you wanna do this?”

Instead of answering you verbally, he pulls you closer for a soothing kiss, coaxing all your worries away.

“I want to do this,” he says, knowing you need to hear the words from his voice.

“Okay,” you murmur, taking a deep breath. “What do we do about the team?”

His eyebrows furrow. “What about them?”

You give him a tired look. “Come on. They know.”

“What?” He blurts, sitting up a little, taking you with him. “Rossi knows.”

“And Emily and JJ and Garcia,” you chuckle. “I didn’t even tell them. Emily saw us at dinner one night. JJ figured it out from the phone call a few days ago. Garcia just...knows.”

“What about Morgan and Reid?”

“Are you kidding me? Morgan knows. Have you seen how he irritates the shit out of me every day?”

“Exactly,” Aaron says. “He does it every day.”

“Have you noticed how he’s been doing it especially when you’re around?” You raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re our supervisor! I thought you were a better profiler than that!”

“We have a rule not to profile each other,” he says sternly, obviously a little butthurt that he didn’t see that everyone else knew.

“A rule that none of us stick to, by the way,” you laugh. “We just don’t voice it. But we do. Trust me.”

“I didn’t think you’d figured that out yet,” he admits.

“Eh,” you shrug. “It wasn’t hard. I caught myself profiling everyone. I figured I couldn’t be the only one who does it by accident.”

Aaron only smiles. He’s amazed by you every single day. Sometimes he wonders if you even know how intelligent you are. If you even know the full scope of your mind. Maybe you don’t, maybe no one does.

“But anyway,” you swerve back on track. “I feel like it should be unspoken, but just...no PDA, you know? It’s fine that they know because honestly I think they knew before we knew, but let’s not make it a big deal.”

“Agreed,” he nods. “We still need to be professional.”

“Exactly,” you breathe, glad to be on the same page.

His second alarm goes off, the one for 5:30, and you groan, dropping your forehead to his chest.

“Why does it have to be so early?” You mutter, your lips brushing against his skin as you speak. It sends a hot wave through him, one that causes him to promptly shift your body off of him. “What are you doing?”

“You need to go get dressed,” he says. “And if you stay here wrapped around me any longer, I won’t be able to let you leave.”

You grin. “Point taken.”

You roll off the mattress, fully aware that he’s looking at your ass, and at your entire body, marveling at the way you look in his shirt.

“Oh,” you say, doing a dramatic turn, watching his eyes very quickly move back to your face. “Do you have any boxers? I probably shouldn’t walk down the hall in just a shirt.”

He’s scrambling for a pair of his boxer briefs, the thought of anyone else seeing you just like this making his blood boil frighteningly fast.

“Thanks,” you smirk when he hands them to you. And you put them on in front of him, partly for a show and partly because the look he was giving you demanded it. “I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He nods. “Try not to spend too much time gossiping.”

“Oh, please,” you shake your head. “They’re getting all the details.”

You’re out the door before he can even catch you, and you just know you’re going to get it later.

+++

Emily and JJ are on you as soon as you open the door, both of them dressed and ready, arms folded over their chests like Moms whose daughter stayed out too late last night.

In a way, that’s completely accurate.

“And where have you been?” JJ asks, fully entering her Mom persona.

“Uhm, a friend’s house?” You play along, trying to inch your way to the bathroom.

But Emily knows your move, and stands in front of the bathroom door. “Is this friend named Aaron?”

“...maybe.”

And the façade falls, because they both cheer, pulling you into a hug.

“Finally!” Emily screams.

“Finally, what?” You laugh. “The night before I was also in his room.”

“Oh, we know,” JJ assures you.

“Finally, you admit it,” Emily clarifies. “So...details?”

“So...we have to be downstairs soon and I need to get dressed,” you walk past them to your bag. After grabbing your clothes, you turn back around to find them still staring at you. “What?”

“You’re in his shirt,” JJ says, still smiling.

“And boxers,” you laugh, pulling the hem of his t-shirt up a little. “Guys, don’t make this a big thing.” You pause, heading toward the bathroom. “He was a little upset that I knew everyone knew, and he didn’t.”

“How did he not?” Emily scoffs. “He can be so dense.”

You shake your head, shutting the bathroom door to get dressed.

When you emerge from the bathroom, now dressed and looking more presentable, Emily and JJ are finally getting ready, too. They still watch you like a pair of hawks stalking prey, though. You just hope they won’t make any comments later.

That’s wishful thinking and you know it. But hopefully the comments will be held in at least until you’re all on the jet, heading back to Virginia.

+++

When you walk out of the elevator with Emily and JJ, you find Hotch standing with Rossi, the former looking much more grave than you left him. And he’s on the phone.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, picking up the pace. You glance at Hotch, silently asking, and he nods. “There’s another body,” you fill in Emily and JJ, ignoring the strange look that Rossi gives you.

Once Hotch hangs up, he looks immediately at you. “There’s two bodies. Male and female.”

“What?” Emily blurts. “In the same location?”

He nods. “Same house.”

About this time, Morgan and Reid step out of the elevator, jogging over when they see the team’s faces.

“What’s going on?” Morgan asks.

“Two bodies this time, same house, male and female,” you explain briefly.

Hotch jumps in. “JJ: you, Reid, and Y/N head over to the precinct and get Garcia on the phone. Get her to find everything she can on these new victims.”

You nod, glad he’s not sending you to see anymore bloodied bodies. Just the thought has a chill running down your spine.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s hard not to picture Trevor’s face. It’s hard not to feel the thrill of the possibility of revenge. But you know that’s only the irrational part of your brain. You know you wouldn’t really act on those thoughts.

But they’re still there.

+++

Back at the precinct, you’re dialing Garcia and stirring a cup of shitty coffee. When she picks up, she sounds about as frizzed as you feel.

“Good morning, my angel sent from Heaven,” she sings, sounding far too bright for seven in the morning. “What can I do you for?”

“Good morning,” you chuckle. “We’ve got two new victims.”

“Mm, I know,” she groans, and you begin to hear typing. “Morgan texted me their names, I was waiting for your call.”

“Yep, we just need you to work your magic, that’s all.”

“That I can do,” she replies, no doubt through a smile. “Speaking of magic…”

You already know where this is heading. “Seriously? Who told you?”

“JJ and Emily texted me,” Garcia admits. “But you know I was going to weasel it out of you eventually, anyway!”

“Yes, I know,” you roll your eyes, tossing the coffee stirrer and empty cream and sugar packets in the trash. “Listen, how about this: Once this case is over, we’ll all have a girl’s night at my place with a bunch of junk food and wine, and I’ll give all the details -- whatever they might be at that point.”

You can’t let yourself believe that you’ll still be together because who knows what could happen. Anything could happen. The universe has a bad habit of getting in the way of your love life.

“You know the way to my heart,” Garcia sighs dreamily. “It’s a date. Speaking of dates, it looks like our two victims were married.”

“Married?” You nearly yell. Talk about a plot twist. “And the guy brought our unsub home for a one-night stand?”

“Looks that way so far,” Garcia says with a grimace. “Caroline Merritt, 35, was the CEO of her own company and traveled a lot. It looks like she changed flights yesterday and landed around eleven p.m. She checked her car out of the airport parking lot at eleven forty-five.”

“Great, so she might’ve walked in on our unsub.” You rub your forehead from the stress. “What about the other victim?”

“Jasper Rhodes was 34 and a part-time worker at the local Walmart,” Garcia lists off. “They had been married for three years, but Caroline never changed her last name.”

“Don’t exactly blame her,” you remark. “Alright, which one had allegations?”

“I’m about to burst your bubble, babycakes. Neither of them.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Garcia echoes, just as solemn. “Caroline has a squeaky clean record, aside from one speeding ticket when she was seventeen for going forty-five in a school zone. Jasper also has a clean slate for a record, but he does have one DUI from when he was twenty-two. Nothing else since.”

“It’s been twelve years, so for all we know, he could be sober for a decade now,” you mutter. “Okay. Do they have any connection at all to our other victims? Please say yes.”

“Cross referencing as we speak,” Garcia says, typing furiously. “Almost done… Negative,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “Thank you for being such a wizard, as always.”

“It’s my specialty,” she quips. “So...do I get some details about you and Hotch now?”

“Goodbye Garcia…” You chuckle, ending the call before she can ask anything else.

You walk back into the conference room, shaking your head sadly at JJ who looks up with hopeful eyes.

“Garcia found virtually nothing. Caroline got a speeding ticket at seventeen, and Jasper a DUI at twenty-two. Nothing since. And no connection to any of our other victims,” you relay the information, ending it with a sip of your coffee.

“This unsub is good,” JJ says, exasperated. “How is she always three steps ahead of us?”

“She’s not, really,” Reid says, and you can feel something else coming on. “It’s like she knows we’re closing in on her, so she’s going after those who have no reported allegations. She’s not as far ahead as we think, but maybe that’s what she wants us to think.”

“Reid, dude, you’re sounding like a fortune cookie right now,” you laugh. “I get where you’re going with this. But unless they find some DNA at the crime scene, we’re back to square one again.”

“Maybe…” He trails away, getting up to look at the map.

Something is going on in his head, but you’re not sure what. He’ll tell you when he’s finished with it, you’re sure.

In your pocket, your phone starts buzzing. Thinking it’s Garcia, you pull it out and answer without looking, but Garcia’s voice isn’t what you hear on the other end.

“I’m heading back to the precinct,” Hotch says.

“O...kay,” you furrow your eyebrows, mouthing, ‘Hotch’ to JJ. “Why just you?”

“I need to show you something,” he says slowly, like he’s struggling to get the words out. “The unsub left a note.”

“What does it say?” You ask, wondering why it’s like pulling teeth to get him to speak.

“It’s addressed to you,” he finally says, and all the blood drains from your body. “It’s in an envelope and sealed. Your… Your name is on the front.”

You’re not sure what to make of that at all.

“Okay,” you say, your brain unable to really process it. “Okay, we’ll look at it when you get here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Aaron,” you whisper, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Don’t say that to me. You’re scaring me.” You pause. “What are you sorry for?”

“For this note,” he replies, voice quiet. “For this unsub targeting you, and now for scaring you.”

“What does the note say?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t open it.”

“Okay. Just...hurry, I guess.”

“I’m turning into the parking lot now.”

“Okay, see you in a sec,” you murmur, ending the call.

You look up from the phone to find both JJ and Reid staring at you, concern swimming deeply in their eyes. You don’t even have the energy to offer them a reassuring smile. Nothing about this is comfortable for you.

Why would the unsub leave a note addressed to you?

Hotch walks through the precinct doors a few moments later, a man on a mission as he walks directly to the conference room. You’re explaining to JJ and Reid about the note when he walks in, and you fall silent upon seeing him.

He hates that he even called you to warn you, but he had to do something. His mind was racing on the drive. He had to hear your voice, and he knew you were bound to ask why he was coming back on his own, what’s so urgent, so he knew he’d have to tell you.

But the fear in your eyes right now is something he never wants to see again. Ever.

“Where is it?” You say, your voice wavering.

Slowly, Hotch pulls the envelope out of his jacket pocket. It’s in a plastic bag, which is standard protocol for evidence, and you begin searching for a pair of gloves.

You find a pair and start to slip them on, grimacing at the way your hands shake, and using your peripheral vision to see that Aaron is watching you closely.

Once you’re gloved up, he hands you the plastic bag. It feels much heavier than it should.

Carefully, you pull out the envelope, swallowing down the nausea you’re feeling. As Hotch said, your name -- Agent Y/N L/N -- is scrawled on the front in messy handwriting. Fortunately, Reid can examine that, and this letter if it’s handwritten.

You break the seal on the envelope, flinching slightly, and ignoring that you did. But Aaron saw it.

You pull out the note and half of you cries in relief because it is handwritten, and the other half of you feels sheer terror because your business card is taped to the top left hand corner.

“Shit,” you cuss, closing your eyes.

“What?” Aaron asks, taking a step closer, lowering his head to meet your eye level.

“My business card,” you say, opening your eyes again, hating the way things look blurry for a moment. JJ and Reid are just fuzzy figures at the table when you look around the room. “It could’ve been anyone at the meetings. I handed my card to as many that would take it. There’s no way I’ll remember everyone, or even half of them, I mean, I ran out of cards, I had to go stand by Morgan because--”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Aaron stops you, putting both hands on your arms. “Look at me, please.”

Slowly, the world comes back into focus and you meet his brown eyes, finding your peace there like you have so many other times before. You focus on the weight of his hands on your arms, grounding you, bringing you back.

“I know it’s difficult,” he says. “But you need to breathe.”

You nod, sucking in a deep breath a little too abruptly, not even realizing you had been taking shallow breaths in the first place.

“Good girl,” he whispers, so low that he’s almost mouthing it, careful not to let JJ or Reid hear. And it’s not sexual or sensual this time. It’s comforting. “Can you read the rest of it?”

You nod. “I can help you end your suffering. I can help you avenge. I can help you heal. It doesn’t have to be this way.” You pause, looking up from the note, looking between Hotch, JJ, and Reid. “What does that even mean?”

“Did you talk about your experience during the meetings?” Reid asks.

“A little bit, but I barely scratched the surface of it,” you admit. “And I didn’t mention any names. I might hate him, but...I’d never send a serial killer after him.”

“I know,” Hotch says. “We’re not accusing you of that,” he adds gently. “It’s clear our unsub feels a connection to you now. Something you said must’ve resonated deeply with her.”

“But all I said was that he was my fiancé and that I didn’t report him, so that still gets us nowhere. She’s still a ghost.”

“She’s not a ghost,” he says sternly. “We will find her. You’ve already seen her once.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember seeing her, Hotch.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is she’s reaching out. Which means we’re close.”

“Not close enough,” you protest, tossing the letter back on the plastic bag on the table. “I need to take a walk.” You move toward the door, and he’s following you, so you add quietly, “Alone, please.”

Hotch nods, and watches you go, more worried than he’s ever been in his life.

+++

When Rossi, Emily, and Morgan return to the police precinct, they spot you sitting alone on a bench outside the front doors.

“I got this,” Morgan says, hopping out of the car and heading to you, gesturing for Rossi and Emily to head inside. They share a look and nod, disappearing into the precinct to leave Morgan alone with you.

You don’t even look up from your hands when you see Morgan coming over from your peripheral vision.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asks, standing in front of you.

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Derek.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, sitting next to you on the bench, stretching his arm out behind you. “What’s going on? You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me.”

You snort. “I know.”

“So…” He pauses. “Tell me. It’ll save us both a whole lotta time. And it’ll save you a whole lotta stress, sittin’ there with all that in your head.”

You know he’s right. And you know he’s the only one who really gets it.

So, you tell him what’s wrong.

“The unsub left that note just for me. My card was taped to it, Morgan.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and? It means I laid eyes on her, maybe talked to her, handed her my fucking card, and I still didn’t know it was her.”

“We’re not superhuman, Y/N. We only see what they show us. She probably put on a mask while talking to you.”

“Well now she’s still out there--”

“Listen to me. I ran out of cards too, remember? We started using yours. I easily could’ve given her your card. Hell, I was there with you, I probably looked at her a dozen times, too. Are you gonna yell at me for not recognizing her?”

“No--”

“Then stop doing it to yourself, you hear me?”

“I just… She feels a connection to me. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re a relatable person,” Derek offers, causing you to glare at him. “Hey,” he raises a hand in surrender. “I’m just being logical. It doesn’t say anything about you. Because a serial killer’s view of you is not who you are. You are who you are.”

“Thanks for the fortune cookie.”

“Don’t get that tone with me, kid,” he replies tiredly. “You know you’re not really mad at me, so don’t take it out on me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you rub your forehead. “I’m just…”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know that, but you still need to hear it,” he says. “And I’ll always be here to tell you, got that?”

You look over at him with a small smile. “Got it.”

He smiles too, glad to see you’re feeling better. He shoves your shoulder lightly, playfully. “Come on. Let’s get back in there.”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing up.

He walks ahead, but you stay still, wondering if you should even ask what you’re about to ask. But Derek notices your hesitation and turns back around, studying you.

“Spit it out,” he says, knowing there’s something.

“The unsub is trying to talk to me,” you say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “So...what if we set up a trap.”

“What?” Morgan deadpans, raising his eyebrows, turning his body to completely face you.

“What if we--”

“Use you as bait?” Morgan finishes, incredulity coating his words.

You nod. “I wasn’t going to word it like that, but--”

He scoffs, looking more and more pissed off as the seconds go on. “Hell no. Are you outta your damn mind?”

“No, I’m not. I’m--”

“No,” he stops you, holding up his hand, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Don’t go there. We will find this unsub, and we will do it without you sacrificing yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be sacrificing myself!” You protest. “You guys would be there. You’d have my back.”

“We can’t predict everything this unsub will do, Y/N, you know that,” Morgan fires back. “And I’ll be damned if I let you throw yourself into danger like this. It’s not happening. You hear me?”

SIghing, you nod. “I hear you.”

“Have you even told Hotch about this?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t,” Morgan replies. “You’ll just get a lecture and you and I both know you don’t need that right now.”

“I know.”

He pauses, shaking his head. He steps forward, wrapping you in a hug, eyes closing when he feels you burying your face in his neck. “I love you, kid,” he whispers. “And I know it’s hard, but you got this, we got this. And it’s gonna be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod into his neck, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Next chapter

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-First Day Jitters (Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None.

A/N: There will be a Part 2 to this piece based on S3E10 in order to give some groundwork to the dynamics amongst the team once the reader joins them. Enjoy reading! I had so much fun making this piece. 

The Purest Things Masterlist

au! october 2007

"Criminal profiling is more of an art than a science. Modeling a criminal profile demands the precise marrying of psychological and rational instincts with the crime scene's particulars. What steps would you take in the process of analyzing a suspect to form a solid profile," the stoic BAU Section Cheif asks.

"First, I would want to accumulate all attainable information about the crime to help explain the "how" and "why" of the offense," you counter.

"What kind of information?"

"I'd want to acquire knowledge on the victim to examine the victimology. For example, I'd determine the victim's career and place of employment, friends, family, social status, criminal records, and daily routines and habits. Then, I can look at the connection between the victim and the unidentified subject. Did they know each other, or are they strangers? Why was the victim targeted, and was it them specifically, or are they just one quarry in a tangled web of attacks?"

You look for some signal in Cheif Strauss's attitude as to whether or not you should continue. 

Let’s ramp this up a notch. 

Taking the liberty of doing so regardless, you continue.

"Then, I want to know more about the attacker. I want to classify him...or her, as well as the offense. Why did it take place at a specific location? What is the motive? Is the suspect an amateur or a professional? This collection of data helps to assemble a proper crime assessment. I can now paint the picture of what happened before, during, and after the attack. Next, I can start to hypothesize and formulate a complete profile; I can deduce the kind of person we are dealing with. This assessment includes the age range, social status, what type of career he or she may hold, their I.Q., anything that describes the attacker. Now, I can give the profile to investigators and work to capture the assailant. The profile not only helps track him down but also helps refine the interrogation process."

Pausing the video recording, David sets the remote on the table.

"Academically, she's perfect for the job, Aaron. But will she fit in with the team? She seems too well trained, too straight from the textbook."

"That's why I wanted you to see this next part."

They both watch you in expectation.

"If I may Section Chief Strauss...as much as academic training benefits a student in laying the foundations for their selected career field, all of the studying and laboring over perfect grades becomes virtually obsolete once on the job. Instead, implementing the mechanics and learning through experience, trial, and error is far more beneficial. Executing what you've learned in the real world and refining your expertise in the field is the only way to accurately reveal whether or not you are capable of doing your job."

Rossi snickers at your straightforwardness. Aaron crosses his arms, struggling to fight back the urge to smile.

"Care to expound on that?" Strauss proposes.

"You don't trust the current...organization within the BAU. You feel as though Unit Cheif Hotchner and his team pose a threat to the unit. However, I think you put more emphasis on the chain of command. Specifically, you don't trust Agent Hotchner. In the entirety of this vetting process, you have continually undermined the Unit Chief's role in selecting a new agent. He has not been included in any of our telephone calls. Never once have you cc'd him on our emails. Nor has he been invited to sit in on our in-person interviews. I think the only time I've set eyes on him was in the lobby. He seemed to be completely unaware of my presence and purpose here. I'm sure that were I to be hired TodayToday, I could walk right into his office, and he would be blindsided entirely by my arrival and position on the team. Now, if I am to be apart of this renowned group of individuals, I want to know that I will be a part of it. I do not intend to be an outsider in my field or a pawn for higher-ups' ulterior motives. So, with all due respect Cheif Strauss, I would like to withdraw my application. If any of the aspects that I have touched on prove true and impact my role within this unit, I have no interest in undermining an established team that has no place for me."

Rossi claps Aaron on the shoulder, "She'll do just fine."

**********

You step inside the lobby of the FBI Academy. Although the sight is not new to you after your intense vetting process, it now takes on a new meaning. You have a new purpose. Processing your surroundings, you regard the entryway's clean efficiency. Considering the darkness that looms over this bureau, the lobby is welcoming all the same. 

So this is what my tax dollars have been paying for.

Noticing that an elevator has arrived, you call out to the person inside one of the many lifts. They hold it open for you. The sound of your clipping heels progresses as you run across the glossy tile floor. High heels may not seem like the most logical choice for your first day of work in the FBI, but when wearing them, you feel elevated. As if the world is your stage and you are the ballerina dazzling the crowd in her pointe shoes. Sure, they are uncomfortable at times, but wearing them can almost be considered a superpower. A quintessential accessory of the iconic femme fatale.

The woman in the elevator gasps as you climb on board, startling slightly.

"Are those Jimmy Choos?" She squeals.

You laugh and shake your head, peering down at the patent leather footwear, "No. I wish, though! They're just some old Steve Madden's I got on the clearance racks." Seeing her shoes, you imitate her enthusiasm, "Those are unique! I've never seen a green...quite that color on shoes before."

Chuckling, she thanks you, "Shoes are one of the many ways I express myself. I'm pretty sure at this point I have a pair of shoes in every color for every mood. Today I was feeling a little envious, so I chose this lime green."

"Envious?" You ask.

"There is a Doctor Who convention going on this weekend, and I have meet and greet tickets for the entire cast, but I've been called in on a case. Meanwhile, three of my friends from counterterrorism are on their way to meet David Tennant as we speak. So yes, I am envious."

"Oh my gosh, I heard about that! Catherin Tate is going to be there too. God, what I would give to meet Donna Nobel in the flesh."

"You watch Doctor Who?" Her eyes widen.

You shrug my shoulders, "I'm a bit of a self-proclaimed Whovian."

Shoving her bags underneath her shoulders to free her hands, she stretches them to you, "Penelope Garcia. We are going to be the best of friends."

Taking her hand in yours, you introduce yourself, "I'm Y/F/N/ Y/L/N. I look forward to having a best friend in the building. Today is my first day."

"Oh sweetie, you are going to do amazing," she looks up at the floor number as the elevator dings, "Well, this is my stop."

Stepping off alongside her, you notice her slight surprise. "Mine too," you announce proudly.

"Wait," she whispers, holding a hand up to your face in a stopping motion, "Today is your first day. Oh! Are you the newbie?"

"Today is my first day as a profiler at the BAU, yes."

Stomping her feet repeatedly, she cheers, "Oh, this day keeps getting better! My darling, you will fit in just fine. Now come with me. There's another fellow Whovian I'd like for you to meet."

Following her through the enormous glass doors and into the department, you can't help but feel slightly overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle. "Welcome to the bullpen," she turns around, beaming, "Oh! Spencer, come hither, the new girl is here!"

The young man spins around in his chair and raises his eyebrows, giving you a once-over; he strolls across the office to meet you. You can't tell if he is too tall or too thin. Perhaps, his head is just considerably big for his body, or his lengthy hair gives that illusion. When he nods at you, holding his hand out to greet you, he looks slightly like a little bobble-head doll.

"Dr. Spencer Reid at your service!" He melodically sings.

Nerdy pipe cleaner. I like him.

"It's a pleasure, Dr. Reid. I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N."

"I read you got a full ride through college and graduated from Berkley with a semester completed at the University of Kent for Psychology of Criminal Justice, and you have a degree in Forensic Psychology."

You nod, impressed by his research—time to dazzle him with yours.

"And you, Dr. Reid, attended Caltech. You completed your undergraduate degree at 16, and you hold Bachelor's degrees in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy. Very impressive."

"You forgot PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering," he adds.

You nod, "My apologies."

Breaking a tiny smile, he shifts his gaze to the floor as you notice the light tint of pink shading his cheeks. Unable to resist, you feel the heat rise to yours as well.

"Ah! You must be our newest recruit—Benvenuto nell'esperienza della tua vita," a gentle voice echoes from behind you.

Turning around, you see a familiar-looking, dapperly dressed older gentlemen gliding down the stairs to greet you.

"And you are Agent David Rossi. I attended one of your guest lectures at Berkley three years ago," you reach your hand out to meet his.

"Call me Dave, and you can thank me for inspiring your career choice later. Right now, we have a case. It looks like it'll be a first day via baptism by fire for you kiddo," he lifts his thick eyebrows and winks at you. David motions for you to follow his lead, and you eagerly journey behind him.  

In the conference room, you are met with the eager faces of four other new colleagues. The first to catch your eye is the herculean adonis, whose attention fixates on you. You watch as his eyes scour you top to bottom, taking your whole body in.

Four words. Sculpted by the gods. Where has he been all my life?

"Where have you been all my life?" The statuesque man purrs, running his thumb across his bottom lip.

Ha. Jinx. You can buy me a drink anytime.

"Hiding from men who lead an introduction with that," you strut over to shake his hand. A knot swirls in your stomach as your finger-tips touch, but you quickly dismiss it as mere infatuation.

Throwing his head back in laughter, he responds, "I like you already. Derek Morgan."

"It's nice to see you again," the bright, blue-eyed young woman you recognized as the media liaison smiles, "I'm Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me J.J." On the day of your first interview with Strauss, she offered you directions to the Section Chief's office.

Next, Agent Prentiss introduces herself. Her thick, raven-colored hair elegantly falls to her shoulders and encompasses her diamond-shaped face. There is a spirited as well as clever expression in her eyes.

Finally, Agent Hotchner stands up. You are taken aback by his astute and severe manner. He's taller than you recall, although you have only observed him from afar. Like most men, he seems to have become an automaton of the modern workplace, measured and valued just for his productivity and obedience. He is tense, most likely swallowing intense trauma and concealing it so he can get up each day and do the same tedious job again and again. Most men display these traits in the way they parent, becoming domineering companions, stacking decay over destruction until their home-life collapses. What remains is a mass of bitterness resentment.

Yet, he exhibits none of this. Beneath this rather tough exterior, you can discern that he is the kind of handsome that infiltrates your bones, that exudes an air of olden times before he's even said a word to you.

Tag List:

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[fandom-imagines-stories]

Already Gone

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 3477

Part One of Two

Summary: With a relationship interfering with your dangerous job, you force yourself to break things off with your boyfriend. Reid tries to maintain a professional relationship, but can’t deny his heart break. Inspired by Already Gone, a cover by Sleeping at Last. 

Notes: Welp. I can’t resist putting my boys through as much pain as possible and Spencer is no exception. I was actually inspired by a pair of imagines I did for Bellamy Blake a couple of years ago, so I recommend checking those out as well. As always, let me know what you think and what you look forward for in part two!

Warnings: Plenty of angst and violence

More Criminal Minds: HERE

-

It never would have worked out right

We were never meant for do or die

You had finally let it happen. You’d let your feelings cloud your judgement and nearly got a hostage killed. Throwing your badge down on your desk, you hunched over it, hands gripping the wooden edge and breathing heavily. You wanted to break something, anything, but most of all you wanted to punch the wall until your knuckles split. 

The rest of the team walked by your desk silently. They each knew you were beating yourself up, but they collectively decided it’d be best to let you cool off before anybody said anything. Even Hotch just gave you a reassuring nod and went to his office to fill out paperwork. While the group all moved on, one person remained. The one person you couldn’t look at right now. 

“Not now, Reid.” You snapped, jerking your head up to see his concerned eyes. You had hoped that your aggressive tone would make him steer clear, but he stood his ground. 

“You know what happened wasn’t your fault-”

“Don’t you start on me too.” You fell back into your chair, wanting to just disappear into the floor. 

“Can we at least talk?” Spencer’s quiet and hurt voice was breaking you and you just wanted to shut it out. You buried your face in your hands and felt his hand on your shoulder. You melted into his touch, your body giving in while your heart still ached over your mistake. You knew what you had to do. It was the only way to ensure nothing like today ever happened again. 

“Yeah, let’s go talk.” You said suddenly, heading to the elevator. Spencer followed you hesitantly, his face still painted with worry and confusion. As soon as the doors closed, he spoke. 

“I understand that you are upset about how things happened, but we still saved a young girl today.”

“No, Prentiss saved that girl. I almost let her die.” The elevator started its descent and you felt your body pulling you down with it. The weight on your chest was crushing you and while part of you knew that Spencer was the only one that could lift it off of you, you couldn’t afford to be that selfish anymore. 

“Y/N, that wasn’t your fault.” He reached out for you, but you pulled away. You kept your eyes forward, avoiding the wounded look in his eyes. 

“Yes. It was. Reid, the unsub got to me by using you.” 

“W-what do you mean?” His eyes widened. 

“He could tell that we’re together. Somehow, he knew and he used that against me. He told me everything he would do to you and I almost killed him.” You balled your fists at your sides, your mind running through everything that psycho had threatened to do to Spencer. “I almost killed him and lost that little girl because I couldn’t control myself. If Prentiss hadn’t found her in time…” 

“Y/N,” This time, when he grabbed your hands, you didn’t back away. He brought them up to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles- bruised from your struggle with the unsub, “it was one mistake. You hesitated. Agents hesitate all the time when they’re in a situation like that.”

“Not us, Reid. Not me.” You started to pull away, but his hands gripped yours. He wasn’t rough, but it was enough to keep you in place. 

“That’s another thing,” He started, his voice sounding more hurt than before, “why do you keep calling me Reid?” He was right. Like J.J., you always called him Spence, or Spencer, even before you’d started seeing each other. You never called him Reid like the rest of the team. Spencer let go of your hands so he could put a hand on your cheek. “Something else is wrong.”

“Yeah, Spence, it is.” You resisted the urge to lean into his touch. Instead, you stepped away from it. “We can’t do this anymore.” You kept your expression cold and collected, even if you were shattered within. Spencer’s face fell, eyes filling with even more confusion and pain. 

“What?”

“Come on, Reid. We were kidding ourselves into thinking this would work. There’s a reason team members aren’t supposed to hook up.”

“We aren’t just ‘hooking up’, Y/N. We understand each other and-and we make each other better at our job, not worse. We’ve made it work. That doesn’t have to change.” 

“You’re supposed to be the logical one, right?” You snapped. “Tell me the logic in us staying together.” He had tears in his eyes now and you had to fight to hold your guard up. 

“I love you.” He said softly. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying out. He just kept looking at you in that way that made you want to hold him and say you were sorry. But you couldn’t. Not this time. “Logic isn’t a part of it.” 

“That’s the problem.” You put as much anger into your words as you could. It was the final piece for him and a tear escaped onto his cheek. You tore your eyes away, looking down at the pavement. “I have paperwork to do.” 

You kept yourself from all out running until you got inside. You didn’t have the patients for the elevator, so you just sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time and tripping more than once. You kept a straight face until you closed the door to Garcia’s office. 

“Hey girl, what’s-” She started, but immediately stopped when you threw your arms around her and started to sob. 

-

I want you to know, that it doesn’t matter

Where we take this road

But someone’s gotta go

You were never sure if he was looking at you because you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You’d spent the weekend at Penelope’s house, bawling and convincing yourself that you did the right thing because you knew that even one moment of hesitation, and you would be at his apartment begging him to forgive you. 

Sensing the tension at the table, Morgan and Prentiss exchanged an uncomfortable look. Hotch had called you in on another case, but Rossi was stuck in traffic so you were forced to wait in a painfully awkward silence. 

“Jeez, kid, what’s going on with you?” Morgan looked at Reid, trying to get a read of what might be bothering him. 

“Nothing’s going on with me.” He replied coolly, keeping his gaze on the smooth surface of the desk. You felt Morgan’s inquiring stare turn to you, but you kept your eyes forward, desperately hoping Rossi would get there soon. 

“Sorry I’m late,” He entered the room with a scowl and took a seat with the rest of the team. “Damn roadwork.” 

“Alright, everyone,” J.J. began, passing out the files as she went around the table. Her hand briefly grazed your shoulder in a sign of sympathy. Somehow, she always knew. “Local authorities in Maine found the bodies of two women who had been reported missing two weeks ago. Their wrists showed signs of being bound, probably with duct tape, and they suffered multiple wounds to the chest. The M.E. thinks it was an arrow.”

“Bow hunting?” Prentiss suggested. 

“They said from the looks of the injuries, the arrow had to have been shot from a distance, so hunting is a possibility.” 

“Why shoot them more than once?” Morgan wondered, taking a look at the crime scene photos. 

“There’s one more thing.” J.J. sighed, clicking to a new picture on the screen. It was a smiling woman holding a child. “Rachel Bratton, 32, was reported missing a week after the first two victims. Police didn’t find her with the others so-”

“The unsubs might be holding her somewhere.” Hotch finished grimly. “Alright, everyone. Let’s move. Plane leaves in fifteen minutes.” 

Everyone hurried to grab their things from their desks. You just wanted to get out of that room. Before you grabbed your bag, however, you heard a quiet voice. 

“You aren’t even going to talk to me?” Spencer wondered, his voice sounded soft and broken. “I thought we could at least be friends.” 

“Reid, don’t do this now.” You begged. If he kept this up, you would break too and you couldn’t afford for that to happen. His jaw clenched and he reached into his jacket pocket. 

“Here.” He held out a closed fist, slowly opening his fingers to reveal a small golden star. It was your favorite hair pin. “You left this at my apartment. I thought you might want it back.” You picked up the small metal clip, running your fingers along the points. 

“Spence…”

“I’ll see you on the plane.” He snapped, snatching up his own bag and heading out. You cursed to yourself, shoving the pin into your pocket and following the team out to go to the airport. 

You found a seat to yourself and focused on looking over the case files despite the aching feeling in your chest. By the time the plane was ready to take off, everyone had found places and a blonde-framed face appeared in front of you. 

“Alright, spill.” J.J. ordered, crossing her arms over her chest. You sighed, keeping your eyes on the M.E.’s report. 

“I’m fine, Jen.” 

“Come on, don’t give me that. You’re lucky I convinced Morgan to back off. He was ready for a full on interrogation.” 

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N, everybody knows something happened between you and Spence. You’ve been distant from everyone. He has been burying his head in books every spare second when he isn’t painfully looking at you.” She was blunt because it made you listen. “We’re worried.” 

“There’s nothing to be worried about. We got into a little fight. Friends fight.” 

“Just friends?” She raised a brow. She always knew. You leaned back in your seat, defeated. 

“We dated for a while, but it got in the way of work so I broke things off.” You finally admitted, trying to read her face for a reaction. “Happy?” She frowned sympathetically. 

“How long were you together?” She asked. Just thinking about it still stung. 

“Almost a year.” 

“And you two didn’t tell anyone this whole time?” She gasped. You shook your head. 

“We knew that Hotch wouldn’t approve.” You turned to the team as they got ready to make a plan. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.” Just saying the words made the lump in your throat bigger. 

Hotch briefed everyone on their focus and where each member would be headed. You would be meeting with the missing woman’s fiancé. Along with Reid. 

“Shouldn’t I go with Morgan and Rossi to the dump sight? I feel like I can be more helpful there than talking to the distressed fiancé.” Reid said, his gaze slipping in your direction. Hotch just blinked in annoyance. 

“If we can understand Rachel’s routine, we can figure out how and where she was abducted. I need you to work on the geological profile.” He said sternly. He wasn’t oblivious to the awkwardness on the plane, but it wasn’t remotely on his list of problems. Reid didn’t say anything for the rest of the meeting. 

-

I didn’t come here to hurt you

Now I can’t stop

“I still feel like it’s my fault.” Brendon Nathonson sat with his head in his hands. “I was in a rush to get to work so I didn’t stop to see if she came back from her run that morning. I should have checked.”

“Does Rachel run every morning?” You asked, your tone sympathetic and soothing. You’d lost count of how many grieving or panicked loved-ones you’d spoken to over the years. It was one of the common parts of the job, but sitting next to Spencer made it feel different. Brendon nodded. 

“She was a track star in high school. Guess she never grew out of it, right?” He sniffed, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Do you have any idea where these psychos could be keeping her?”

“That’s actually what you might be able to help us with, Mr. Nathonson.” 

“What do you mean?”

“If we can figure out exactly where Rachel was taken, we can compare it to where the other two women were taken and found and possibly create a geological profile that could help us narrow down where the unsubs may operate out of.” Reid explained. The poor man still looked incredibly confused so you translated. 

“He means that these guys probably have an area that they’re comfortable working in, meaning both where they take their victims and where they may be keeping them.” 

“Oh god,” Brendon cried, covering his eyes with his hand. “You know, we kept pushing it back? The wedding. It was supposed to be in June, but then her sister couldn’t make it so we made it October, but then my best friend got sick. And now I might never get to marry her.” 

“We are going to do everything we can to bring Rachel home, Mr. Nathonson.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but the presence beside you was making your heart beat out of your chest. 

“She’s my everything, you know?” Brendon finally looked up again. “When you lose that… it’s like losing a part of yourself.” 

When the interview was over, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Everything that Brendon Nathonson said was searing itself into your brain, echoing around and around like a bad song on repeat. You slammed the door of the main office, making sure no one was already in there. You pressed your forehead against the cool wood of the door, trying to calm yourself down. This was why you wanted to end things to begin with. You couldn’t control your emotions around him. Even now, despite the case, all you could think about was him and how much he hated you. 

A quiet knock startled you. You jumped back from the door, and forced yourself to calm down. Spencer slowly stepped inside, closing the door again behind him. 

“I saw you run in here.” He started softly. 

“I didn’t run.” You scoffed, more frustrated with yourself than anything else. “You probably need some time to do the geological profile. I’ll call Hotch and tell him what Nathonson said-” You started to leave, but his hand gently grabbed your arm. 

“Wait.” He pleaded, those perfect eyes staring deeply into yours. “Can we just talk?” 

“Spence…” You trailed off. Frankly, it’s all you had wanted to do. He at least deserved that. You blew out a heavy sigh and sat down. “Honestly, I haven’t been able to focus on this case because of all of this.” You ran a hand down your face.

“Neither have I.” Spencer sat down across from you, placing his hand on top of yours. “All I can think about is you.” Before, whenever he was with you, he thought clearer, focused more, and noticed every little detail of a case. Now, all he could think about was how much he missed you. 

“Once we get through this case, I promise that we’ll talk, okay?” There was so much you wanted to say right there, but you couldn’t find the words. I still love you was all that came to mind. Spencer nodded. 

“Then let’s make sure we solve this.” His awkward, crooked smile made you laugh and the two of you got to work trying to find Rachel Bratton.

-

You know that I love you so

I love you enough to let you go

The team circled the building, ready to go in. You were with Reid and Rossi, guns drawn as you went in the back door. It was an old meat processing plant that was located right in the middle of both the abduction and dump sights. Without Reid, you wouldn’t have been able to find it. You checked the back warehouse before moving onto another room, but not before you noticed something. A big metal door was cracked open just enough for you to get a peek inside. 

“Guys, over here.” You signaled, seeing Rachel Bratton sitting on the far side of a cage just inside the room.

“Please help me.” She begged. You tried to pry the door open more, but it wouldn’t budge. The opening was just wide enough that you could barely slide through, but you would have to take off your vest to fit. Before Rossi or Reid could say anything, you had undone the straps and were sliding through the narrow gap. 

“Is anybody in there with you?” You asked, still keeping your gun ready. Rachel shook her head. 

“No.” She gulped back a sob. “No, they went out that hatch.” 

“Y/N, maybe you should wait-”

“I’m fine, Reid.” You glanced back at him as you finally slipped into the room. “She said that they went outside. Let Hotch know.” 

Reluctantly, Reid followed Rossi back outside in pursuit of the killers. You made quick work of the lock on the cage and helped Rachel stand up. She collapsed against you, sobbing and thanking you over and over again. 

“Can you walk?” You asked gently. She nodded and you approached the hatch on the floor. Sure enough, it led down to the forest floor. You helped her down and kept your weapon out in front of you, keeping Rachel close behind. 

“Y/N!” Reid shouted, joining you again. Rossi flanked Rachel’s other side, keeping his eyes on the trees. 

“Have they found them?” You asked, afraid of the answer. Rossi shook his head. “Alright, we need to get back to the car so we can get Rachel to the hospital. Let’s move.” 

The four of you moved cautiously towards the front of the warehouse. The trees surrounding you rustled and groaned in the midwestern winds. You thought it was a trick of light at first, but when you saw the shining tip of an arrow, you aimed your weapon and fired. Mikah Roman tumbled across the forest floor towards you. Rachel screamed and latched onto Spencer. 

“Mikah Roman, you’re under arrest for the murder of Abbie Stockwell and Bonnie Andrews and the kidnapping of Rachel Bratton.” You yanked Mikah’s arms behind his back, causing him to scream out. The shot in his arm was gushing blood as you cuffed his wrists. 

Rossi’s gaze jerked upwards suddenly and Reid pushed away from Rachel, calling out your name. You whirled around to see what they were looking at.

“No!” Spencer screamed, watching the arrow enter the center of your chest. You didn’t hear your own gasp over the sound of Rossi’s gun shot, taking out the second killer without hesitation. Funnily enough, you couldn’t hear Rachel’s screaming sobs. You just heard a small voice in your ear. Arms were holding you up off the ground, pulling you into their lap. When did you fall? Why was your shirt wet? 

“Spencer…” You started, but your words came out garbled and breathy. What was happening? Why was your chest so sore? 

“Shhh, don’t talk.” Spence put his hands on your wound. Why did he look so scared? 

“W-what’s going on?” You gasped, the pressure from his hands making you cry out. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He muttered, blood quickly coating his hands. Rossi was lifting Micah to his feet and speaking into the radio in a panicked voice. That’s when Spencer started yelling. “Somebody help! Help us! Agent down! Somebody help us! Please, she needs help!” You finally understood what was going on, the initial shock of your injury clearing from your mind. 

“Spencer…”

“Somebody help!”

“Spence.” You reached up and touched his cheek. “I-I’m okay.” 

“Help is on the way.” Through the sound of his heart pounding, he could hear footsteps approaching. The rest of the team gathered around, Prentiss stopping cold at the sight in front of her. Spencer smiled with delusional relief. “See, Hotch and Morgan and Prentiss are all here. They can help you-” He looked back down and stopped. 

Your head was tilted back, a small trail of blood trickled down from your mouth. Your eyes blankly staring up at the clouded, grey sky. His crimson stained hands reached for your face, smearing the blood on the skin of your cheek. He recoiled from the sight, instead wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. 

Morgan made a step towards Reid, the younger agent’s quiet sobs growing louder and louder until they were unbearable. Hotch put a hand out to stop him. He knew that Reid needed this moment. He needed to say goodbye.

And I want you to know, you couldn’t have loved me better

But I want you to move on

So I’m already gone

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

[mctherofdragons]

A Sanctuary Heart | 3 | SR

summary / after her abusive husband lands her in the intensive care unit, y/n changes her identity and moves as far away as possible. upon starting her new life, she meets dr.spencer reid and his son, maddox, when she begins her job as a teacher. but can she keep herself safe and keep up the facade with spencer? can she be safe at all?

pairing / spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings / slowburn romance, fluff, angst, marriage, trauma, domestic violence/abuse, dad!spencer, wheelchair use, paralysis, injury, ptsd flashbacks, car accident/serious injury, bullying, mention of ableism, a singular mention of god.

important links / series masterlist + domestic violence resources

authors note / i absolutely adored writing this chapter, omg. we get more of spencer and maddox's backstory. and things start to get a little more exciting as the rest of the team makes their first appearance! thank you all for the great feedback so far, i'm so glad you're enjoying the series. also my tags are not working, so reblogs on this chapter would be insanely appreciated. Flashbacks are in italics!

Seeing the blood on your hand, Spencer instinctively reached out to grab your wrist gently. You snatched your hand back, bringing yourself up to your feet, wobbling. You grabbed your bag, wrapping your hand in your scarf that you had managed to take off in the cool October night.“Ivy,” he said the moniker one more time and you felt your insides reel once more.

‘I’m a liar, Dr. Reid, I wish you knew,’ you thought to yourself, stumbling to search for your keys under the warm glow of the moon.

“I have to go. Thank you for dinner,” you contended, making your way out of the side gate. Spencer watched in confusion as you made your way out quickly. He figured he ought to chose his battles, not wanting to startle you by following after you.

Once you were safe inside your car, you sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life. You felt a sharp combination of embarrassment and frustration. You wanted the flit of light that came from the possibility of new love. But instead, the one before had taken everything from you. Even now, all these miles and a new name away, he was pulling you away from those little flickers of brilliance and back into the darkness of yourself.

_____________________________

2 years earlier.

“Maddox,” Spencer whispered, feeling his heavy eyelids open just slightly. He was disoriented, noticing that the once right-side-up roadway was now upside down instead. The loud blaring of the horn was constant. It sent a piercing sound into Spencer’s ears and head, which caused him to wince. “Maddox.”

Spencer tried to turn, but he couldn’t move. Something had him pinned in the driver’s seat. He looked into the review mirror, which by grace alone wasn’t entirely broken. Maddox was slumped in his car seat, blood trickling down onto his Toy Story tee shirt. Spencer let out a weak gasp, trying again with no avail to move.

Spencer noticed how cold it was. It had been snowing all night, and Spencer wasn’t sure how long they had been where they are now. The snow had fallen through the shattered glass, tiny flakes gathering anywhere they could.

Using all of his strength, he turned his head to his wife. Her eyes were half shut, a trickle of crimson come from her mouth.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered. “Are you alright?”

She began to speak, but began to sputter, her lungs sounding flooded. Her hand curled and uncurled, and Spencer could barely reach it. He was able to hold onto her fingertips with his. They felt ice-cold like she was already three steps into Eternity. Spencer knew that type of frigid touch. He had come in content with it a million times, and the person on the other end was never living.

“D-don’t talk, baby. Okay? The ambulance is coming. Do you hear them? We’re going to be okay.”

Spencer could hear the medics somewhere far off in the distance. The repeated echo of the sirens sounded like a band of angels to him. Spencer Reid admittedly didn’t believe in the Judeo-Christian God. He wasn’t sure what he gave credence to, in fact. But at that moment, inverted in the shattered glass, surrounded by the labored breathing of his dying wife...he prayed.

________________________________

Spencer walked into the Bureau, adjusting the brown satchel on his shoulder. His brow looked furrowed as he sipped from his paper coffee cup. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you left, trying to profile what exactly had gone wrong between the Merlot and you rushing out of his backyard.

“Penny for your thoughts?,” Emily piqued as Spencer sat down, tossing his bag onto his desk. Spencer let out an exasperating sigh, taking another drink of his coffee.

“Just trying to figure someone out.”

“Oh, oh, oh. Is this a lady someone?,” Derek queried, wiggling his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning onto Spencer’s desk with a sparkling grin.

“Maybe.”

Spencer felt himself smiling despite his best efforts. Emily opened her mouth in surprise, giving Derek a playful shove.

“I told you he would get back out there, Morgan!”

Spencer smiled. “Yeah, she’s sweet. I just...don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

That morning, Spencer had put on his wedding band. He still did it when he was scared, or nervous, or needing to feel close to her. He would feel the cool metal atop his finger and feel less alone. For a brief moment when the metallic touched his skin, he could pretend she was still here.

Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

“I hope you know me and Prentiss are just messing with you. We care about you, kid. We know these past two years have been hell for you. Just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah…I appreciate that. I just…,” Spencer paused, bringing his hands up as he spoke, as was so akin to him. His lip curled into the smallest smile. “Seeing this girl interact with Maddox. She...loves him for him..already?”

“Maddox is a great kid, Reid.”

“I know. I just don’t want her to find out---”

Spencer’s sentence was cut off by Hotch appeared, letting everyone know they had a case and to meet for Round Table. Spencer quickly shot a text to Maddox’s home health nurse, letting her know he’d need coverage for a few days.

________________________________

You sat in the front of your classroom, your eyes scanning from the test in front of you to the answer key. The students were working on a Social Studies project in small groups. Their task was to read a short story about colonial times and fill out a short worksheet. If they finished early they were permitted to color, which most of the children thoroughly enjoyed.

“Maddox can’t use crayons,” you heard a small voice snicker. You raised your eyebrow, hoping it wasn’t harmful, and rather just an observation.

You heard another child sling a slur at Maddox, who was sitting quietly with his aide, trying to ignore them. But as you looked up, you saw Maddox’s tiny bottom lip begin to wobble. One of the children picked up a crayon and threw it at Maddox, hitting him in the shoulder.

“He can’t even feel that! My dad said that’s why he’s in a wheelchair,” the bully jeered again, high-fiving his friend.

You stood up with a loud squeak of your chair against the linoleum floor.

“You two. Principals office. Now.”

The rest of the class erupted in a chorus of childish ‘ooo’s. You clapped your hands together - your universal signal to quiet down.

“I did not ask for comments from the audience,” you scolded. The children settled down, going back to their work, whispering amongst one another.

“Maddox, come talk to me in the hallway,” you offered. Tears were rolling down Maddox’s cheeks. His aide reached over with a tissue to wipe them, but he turned his face away, one of the only ways he could physically set a boundary.

Maddox’s aide helped him into the hallway and then left the two of you alone. You sat down on one of the small, metal benches in the hallway. At this angle, you were about Maddox’s height. He was blubbering, trying to take deep breaths as more tears came. You pulled a small, clean, cloth handkerchief from your pocket. He let you dab his cheeks, giving him a gentle click of the tongue.

“Buddy, do you want to talk about it?”

“T-they’re so m..m..mean to me,” he whimpered, closing his eyes as more tears fell. “And, and, and I can’t play with them even, that’s why. I can’t do anything!”

You nodded empathetically, gently catching more of Maddox’s tears.

“I hate school! My daddy wants me to like school. It’s all he talks about. I hate him!”

“Maddox,” you softly redirected. “That’s not very nice. You don’t hate your dad.”

Maddox looked a deep breath. You smiled, knowing Spencer must have taught him to do that when he was upset.

“You’re right. But I’m sad, and I wanna go home.”

You sighed, reaching up to blot the little bit of redness still present on Maddox’s cheeks. You adjusted his glasses, moving some of his curly brown hair from underneath the metal.

“Just a few more hours, okay? We have library at the end of the day.”

Maddox’s face lit up, his apple cheeks glowing beneath the rims of his glasses. “Library!”

“Yes, and just for this week, you can take home two books.”

______________________________

Spencer felt distracted the entire flight to Vermont. He knew he was going to be far away for a while, and that Maddox wouldn’t know until he got out of school for the day. The agent detested when he had to leave without Maddox knowing in advance, but it was usually impossible given the nature of things. Thankfully, Reid had a good setup of support through healthcare and respite so Maddox never went without someone to care for him.

Then, there was you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your reaction. He had seen it before in abuse victims. The way you flinched when he moved too fast, the apologizing like your life depended on it, even the way you looked at him with pleading eyes, desperate to avoid a blow. He bridged his fingers together, thinking to himself for a moment.

With that, he stood up, making his way to the back of the plane. He unlocked his phone while he chewed his fingernail with his free hand. Before he knew it, he was calling Garcia.

“Penelope. Hey, I need a favor. A personal one. If you could keep it between us, that would be great.”

“Anything for you, my precious string bean.”

Spencer laughed. “I need you to get all the information you can on someone. Ivy Porter.”

“Ivy Porter. That’s like a movie star name. What did she do?”

“Um..nothing, I don’t think. Just call me when you’ve got something, and email me everything you find.”

“You got it. Every in and out of Ms. Ivy Porter coming to you soon. Be safe. Talk soon.”

With that, Penelope clicked off of the call. Spencer sat back down, anxiously waiting for whatever information Penelope could find about you.

___________

series/criminal minds taglist: @hufflepuffhaze @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @rainbows-dreams @bvttercupbby @k-k0129 @rexit-mo @britishspidey @graciehams @manuosorioh @shemarmooresfedora @big-galaxy-chaos @thatoneszesty13 @ssavanessa22 @awritingtree @sweetandsunny​ @rainsong01 @kuolonsyoja @taralewiz @bluelittleblackgirl @asexual-booknerd @the-wolfie

[cacoetheswriting]

chasing a feeling pt. II - spencer reid

Warnings: this goes from angsty, to fluffy to smutty tbh: swearing, a lil jealousy, small alcohol consumption, smut, really 18+, dom!Spencer/sub!reader dynamic, oral sex (receiving and giving), choking, a little dirty talk, rough and kinda sloppy sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)  Word Count: 4.5k Summary: this is part two: Conflicted about his feelings, Spencer decided to apologise and try to convince you to stay. He appears at your door in the middle of the night and the two of you work through your differences - or do you? (these two can't catch a break oops, PART THREE is out now)

| PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE |

-

Spencer found himself stood outside your hotel room door. The rest of the team was fast asleep by now, after all it was nearly two in the morning. He should be in bed too, however, after tossing and turning for hours straight he sprung out of bed and his feet carried him here. Was it the guilt? Because he was riddled with it. Mixed of course with a faint feeling of anger. The emotions spread inside his body like a disease making him nauseous.

His fingers curled into a fist and he knocked three times. No answer. You were probably sleeping which made all of this so much worse but he knocked again, this time using more of his strength.

He heard shuffling inside. No turning back now. He took in a deep breath and anxiously waited for you to open the door. To his surprise however it wasn't you that greeted him sleepily, it was the officer you flirted with earlier that day. Shirtless. Spencer stood frozen, dumbfounded. The guilt feeling present inside of him just a second ago was gone. In the blink of an eye it was replaced by ire and annoyance. How dare you.

“Can I help you?” The officer asked quietly, one hand on the door as if he was ready to shut it in Spencers face any second. “Yeah uh, I’m here for Y/N.” The officer yawned. “Can’t this wait? It’s like two a.m.” “No, it can’t wait.” Spencer grumbled. His anger levels spiking. He wondered how in the hell you got his number since the napkin it was written on currently lay at the bottom of Spencers hotel bin. “What are you doing here anyway?” “No offence agent but that’s kind of none of your business.” The officer smirked at Spencer who's fists were now clenched by his sides.

He was mad, borderline furious. You tell him you're leaving again, make him feel as if it's all his fault, and then land yourself in bed with another man? All in the space of a couple hours? What a sick joke.

“What’s going on?” You appeared behind the officer wrapped in a white hotel robe. Your eyes landed on the brunette doctor and the air caught in your throat. “Spencer.” His name escaped your lips so faintly you weren't sure at first you even said it.

Nervously, you turned to the officer and asked him kindly to leave - ‘duty calls’ was your excuse. You reassured that you’d find him later, maybe grab some lunch. Spencer watched as the officer nodded and disappeared into the dark room to grab his things. He came out moments later, kissed your cheek while saying goodbye, and walked away leaving you alone with the brunette agent. 

Spencer rolled his eyes at the interaction as you stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind you. You looked up to meet his gaze expecting the worst. The look spread across his facial features however wasn't one of animosity or bitterness. It was grief. That can't be right?

“What are you doing here?” You asked sheepishly. “I came to apologise, see if there is anything I could do to make it better between us and maybe get you to stay but it seems you’re doing just fine.” Spencer huffed irritated; you detected a hint of heartbreak in his voice. “Spence-” “Just forget it Y/N.” He sighed, turned on his heel and began walking away.

“Spencer!” You hurried after him. “Spencer, please!” He continued to rush ahead, ignoring the sound of your pleas. Did he really despise you that much? Yes, what you did tonight was bad considering everything else that happened but was it cause for this much animosity? Probably. 

You managed to catch up with him just as he reached the elevator. He pressed the arrow button as you stepped between him and the metal door - just in case it opened. “Spencer let me explain.” He rolled his eyes. “I don't want to hear you have to say.” He gritted through his teeth, jaw clenched.

“It’s not what you think.” You blurted out. “Really? So you didn't have sex with the half-naked man I encountered at your door just moments ago?” When you didn't respond, Spencer smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

There was a quiet ‘ding’ and the elevator door swooshed open. Spencer manoeuvred his way around you and stepped inside. Not wanting to let him get away, or rather win this argument, you followed. The machine began to move.

“I only did it because-” “Because what?” Spencer interrupted taking a step towards you. “Because you needed someone to make you feel better? Because you wanted to make me jealous? Or maybe because you wanted to prove to yourself that you weren't just soliciting yourself earlier? That the two of you really made a connection!?” He belittled.

As you stood there stock-still listening to his outburst, you found yourself thinking about earlier today. About the fight, the words that were said, the pure unfiltered anger the two of you seemed to fuel inside one another. Your mind then wondered to the kiss. That passionate, fiery, lustful kiss. Spencer has never kissed you like that before. No. He used to be so timid. He’d kiss you so gently, as if he was afraid to hurt you. Earlier was the complete opposite however. When his lips smeared across yours, his body pushing into you, it was as if he wanted nothing more but to break you.

You bit your bottom lip unconsciously at the thought. A small act that Spencer noticed immediately. He stopped mid-sentence. His gaze lingered on your mouth for a second. Those full, luscious, soft lips. Fuck. He looked back up to meet your gaze and was about to say something, resume the fight, when the elevator door opened brining you both back to reality - ‘ding’.

He surged out towards his own room, you following closely behind.

“You are not the victim here Spencer!” You jeered after him. “You made my day impossible, and don't pretend you didn't. I decided to quit after one day with you. Quit a dream job because your ego couldn't handle the fact that I was back in your life and not for reasons you might have wanted!”

He stopped in his tracks causing you to bump lightly into his back. He turned around in his spot. Eyes narrow, lips rigid and pursed into a thin line. “I didn't want you back in my life Y/N! I haven't thought about you in years!” “Your mom would disagree.”

Spencer blinked. “What did you just say?”

The brunette doctor stepped towards you. You ambled backwards until you hit a wall; bouncing off the facade with a soft thud. Only inches away, he placed his hands flat on both sides of your head trapping you completely. Heat radiated off him as if you were standing next to a fire.

“What did you just say?” He repeated, the sound of his voice stern. His hot breath hit your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You swallowed, but unwilling to show him how scared you were beginning to feel you crossed your arms. Spencers eyes immediately travelled to your bosom which was now barely covered up by the clinging robe. He let his arms fall before averting his gaze.

He ran his hand through his already messy hair and looked up to meet your stare as your body relaxed. A raised eyebrow and a sly smirk present on your facial features. “What?” He seethed trying to come off unbothered; but he was betrayed by his own actions as his eyes once again wandered to your visible cleavage. “Are you going to yell at me some more or just continue goggling at my boobs?” You asked, the smirk on your face spreading wider.

“Perhaps you should be wearing something more appropriate to bed.” Spencer ridiculed. “Do you always sleep naked or was that just for the gentleman caller I found in your hotel room?” You couldn't help but roll your eyes. “I bet you’d like to know doctor Reid.”

He huffed at your comment but didn't deny it. Satisfied that you managed to rattle him, you continued. “Is this better? Can you concentrate now?” You asked sarcastically as you uncrossed your arms. “Or perhaps you’d prefer this?” Your fingers fidgeted with the cotton rope around your waist untying it, your eyes glued to the man in-front of you. The robe fell open revealing well, everything.

There was something about Spencer hat always drove you crazy. It crept up on you, this weird feeling you only ever experienced when you were with him. He stirred something inside of you that you couldn't explain no matter how hard you tried. After all these years apart however you forgot this sensation even existed; the two of you moved on with your lives. But now the switch was yet again flipped and unknowing to you, the feeling was mutual.

Spencer pelted at you, grabbing each side of the garment and closing it. “Very mature.” He breathed heavily. “Someone could have seen you.” “Someone did see me.” You teased. Spencer ignored you. Instead, he looked down and focused on tying the robe shut. He could feel your eyes burning into his skull. His fingers shaky as his mind raced. The image of your naked body impeded in his brain.

Spencer was rigid tense. He knew deep down that he couldn't control himself much longer around you - which is why he was so angry. The question he’s been asking himself this last day once again riddled his brain: How come you still had such an effect on him? You broke his heart when you left, in that moment he swore he would hate you forever. And he kept that promise until he saw you again. The minute his eyes landed on you the angry facade rumbled but his conscious continued to tell him you were evil, so he acted as if you were. Now he was conflicted.

There was a brief moment of silence when he finished. Spencer sighed. He seemed unwilling to look up and meet your gaze, or let go of your robe for that matter. His fingers trailed along the cotton bind, tugging at it lightly. You could not help but let out a mellow giggle. “I don't think you can make that any tighter Spencer.” A faint smile graced his facial features. For a split second the robust, irate man that gave you the cold shoulder these last few hours disappeared. In-front of you stood a young Spencer you loved all those years ago. “S-sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured while placing a hand gently on his bicep. “Honestly, I should be the one apologising right now. Thinking about this now it would have been a good idea to call you before my first day and see if you wanted to meet up. We could have talked this out calmly. It would have saved us a lot of awkwardness.” He chuckled, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “You mean save us the arguments.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Right.”

Slowly, you moved your hand down his arm until you reached his knuckle. He let go of the robe and intertwined his fingers with yours. His touch was gentle as he rubbed circles into your wrist using his thumb.  

“When did things get so screwed up?” Spencer asked, his eyes scanning yours as if he was searching for the answer deep inside of your soul. “Probably when I left.” “No.” He shook his head, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “It must have been before that otherwise you wouldn't have left.” “Spencer.” “According to a study by Bumpass and Sweet from 1989, the odds of successful lasting relationships are even slimmer than those of marriage. Over half of non-married couples break up within two years and about ninety-percent dissolve within five years. Realistically, we stood no chance.” “I don’t entirely agree. We were crazy about each other but we wanted different things. You just started with the BAU. I was knee-deep in studying for the BAR exam as well as completing my training at the academy. Honestly, I think we were just too young and expected too much out of one another.”

Spencer sighed. He stood quiet for a moment before letting out a short laugh. “I guess our ambitions are to blame then.” You giggled. “I guess you’re right.” He lifted his free hand and tenderly caressed your cheek as you smiled at him. “For what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. You’ve really done everything you said you would do.” His words caught you by surprise. “Are you forgetting that I left you? You were pretty mad about that a few hours ago.” He smiled; his hand now cupping your cheek. You leaned into his touch. “I’m still pretty mad but I think that’s just because of the way you left-” “Without an explanation you mean?” You interrupted and he nodded. “I looked for you. Spent months trying to figure out where you could have gone.” “I’m sorry Spencer. I really am.”

“Why did you leave Y/N?” He asked. There were now tears forming in your eyes. “I-I eh-” You took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I-it was as if one morning I just realised that I wasn't myself anymore, I didn't know who I was. And near the end we hardly saw each other. The last thing I wanted was for us to start fighting, we were both so young and dumb. I watched us wither, and I just thought I would be better off alone.” “But you could have told me.” He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear before going back to holding your cheek; not breaking eye contact. “Spencer, I knew if I told you than you would have talked me into staying. I needed to figure out who I was before I could let myself grow old with someone.”

Spencer nodded, taking in all of the information you just provided him with. He let out a deep breath. “Do you want to raid the mini-bar in my room? We could continue this conversation over a glass of something strong.” He offered, you smiled. “I’d like that.” Hand in hand, the two of you walked towards Spencers hotel room.

“So where did you go? Like I said I trying looking for you but it was as if you dropped off the face of the earth until I got a tip that you were in L.A.” You smiled meekly. “I uh stayed in Virginia for a while. After graduating from the academy I decided that I wanted to just pursue law for a while so I got an internship at a small firm. Plus I figured it would be the last place you would look for me, home.”

He unlocked the door when you reached his room and pushed it open, allowing you to enter first. He followed and locked the door behind. You switched on a lamp situated on one of the nightstands as Spencer rummaged through the mini-bar. He took out two small bottles of gin and poured the content into clean coffee mugs. You made yourself comfortable on his bed, kicking off the white hotel slippers you leaned back against the headboard and spread your legs straight in-front of you. Spencer handed you one of the cups before taking off his own shoes and sitting down beside you.

He clinked his glass against yours and took a sip of his drink; squinting his eyes slightly as the clear liquid burned down his throat.

Over the next hour you answered every question he asked, as honestly and truthfully as you could. All the puzzle pieces aligned themselves in Spencers brain and for the first time since you left he felt whole again. You told him about everything you’ve been doing. He returned with a detailed explanation of everything that has happened to him; from becoming a godfather to his recent time in jail.

“No wonder you’re so mean looking now.” You teased, nudging his arm. “And what’s your excuse?” He clapped back, smirking as he finished his drink. He placed the empty mug on the side table and rested his head against the bed-frame; tilting it slightly to look at you. 

There was a brief moment of silence. Only this time it wasn't uncomfortable or angry, it was peaceful.

“Y/N?” “Yes?” You waited patiently for him to ask his next question, but he never did. Instead Spencer leaned in, his hot breath hit your skin igniting a fire that was built up inside. In the space of a heartbeat his lips were on yours. The warmth of his closeness was soothing and you shut your eyes instantly. 

Spencers hand closed around your jaw, pulling you further into his lips, as his tongue pushed inside your mouth entwining with yours. The two of you began feverishly making out like a couple of high schoolers. Tips of his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging it. You sucked on his lower lip, he bit your tongue playfully as it danced with his. His stumble grazing your chin as your heads moved from side to side to the rhythm of your heartbeats. A quiet moan escaped you causing the brunette doctor to smile against your mouth while deepening the kiss even further. 

Each of your bodies relaxed into the sensation. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth as his hand moved down from your face to your neck. He gave it a gentle squeeze making you moan again, only louder this time. Spencer groaned at the sweet sound of your pleasure; biting down on your lower lip hard before pulling away. 

In one swift motion, Spencer yanked you down by your waist so that your head was resting on a pillow. He straddled over you, his lips now at your collarbone. He kissed up until he met the hollow of your throat. You could feel his member grow harder through his pants, pinning into your leg. He moved to the side of your neck, sucking and nibbling as he traced along. Your body arched into his, chest swelling - there will definitely be a faded purple bruise on your neck greeting you in the morning.

Your hands made their way underneath his t-shirt, tracing the muscles of his toned back. His lips moved up to face yours allowing you to swiftly remove the garment over his head and throw it to the ground. His tongue traced down your jaw as his hands worked on the cotton rope belt of your robe. He undid it quickly; the garment fell open. 

Spencer pulled back for a split second to admire the view before burying his head between your breasts. He cupped them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing harshly over your nipples. Hastily, you tangled your fingers in his hair and bit your own lip as his mouth latched on to one breast; his fingers pulling the nipple of the other. 

His free hand moved down your body until he reached your inner thigh. He traced circles into your flesh, and you instinctively tensed the closer he got to your pussy. You ached for his touch and Spencer knew it too. Smiling against your naked flesh, satisfied that he held all the power, he steered himself down until his face was at your entrance. He wrapped his arms around your thighs steadying them before diving in without warning. His tongue swept from your opening to your clit. 

Throwing your head back, squirming and writhing, you dissolved completely. He continued licking you out. His lips sucked on your clit as a finger slipped inside of you. Instantly, he found your g-spot and massaged it while sliding in and out creating the sluttiest wet noises you had ever heard. Moans of pure ecstasy left your mouth only enticing him more.

The brunette teared away but before you got a chance to complain his fingers were in your mouth. You could taste your own saltiness as your tongue instinctively enveloped around them, sucking. Spencer smiled wickedly at the sensation. It didn't take long for him to jerk his hand away, and grab your face by your jaw. His nails dug into your cheeks.

“Get on your knees for me.” - a simple instruction which you obliged straight away, no hesitation. 

Both of you now completely naked. The head of Spencers fully erect cock rested on your bottom lip. You ran your tongue over it, vertically, letting your lips close off at the tip. But Spencer wasn’t willing to give up the control. He grabbed the back of your head and thrust his shaft fully into your mouth. Your eyes went wide at the intrusion and it took you a second to accommodate this length. 

He withdrew. You managed to swirl your tongue over the tip of his dick when he plunged back into your mouth. He pushed past your gag reflex and into your throat making you moan into his member. He repeated the act a few more times gradually increasing speed. “Fuck yesss...” Spencer groaned, watching you intently. Your jaw ached as he fucked your mouth; your lips in a tight O as he pumped into your mouth so forcefully you struggled to keep up. 

He drew out briskly. He pulled you back onto the bed and positioned himself on-top of you. His face inches away from yours, a caring look spread across his features for a moment. “We can stop if you want.” You shook your head. “No, I want this. I want you.” Smiling at your response, Spencer leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours. 

In that same moment, he pushed his cock into your wetness. You moaned against his mouth at the sensation. His tongue breached your teeth, once again intertwining with yours, and you felt him pull out only to thrust back in deeper this time. You trembled underneath him as he pushed back and forth in slow strokes; each movement creating gasps of pleasure. 

He increased his speed. His thick member pounding into you; a smacking sound now echoing in the room. His mouth trailed hungry kisses along your jaw, his stubble grazing your skin. His fingers found your neck, wrapping around it gently. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The brunette doctor continued to thrust in and out of you as you circled your hips, grinding against him. Your tits bouncing at the created friction. His panting mixed with your shallow breathing and moans - you could feel your orgasm building rapidly.

The tighter your pussy clenched, just aching to explode, the harder he pushed into you. He fucked you deeply, roughly. His fingers digging into your neck as he bit down on your shoulder. Eyes rolling, you screamed his name over and over. Your hips buckled with each strong thrust, you threw your head back. 

His name rolled off your tongue again as he pinned you to the bed by your throat, careful to avoid your windpipe in the process. His mouth found your ear and when his hot breath hit your skin a shiver tingled down your spine. “Cum for me.” He whispered and that was all it took. You screamed, body writhing under him. He moved his face back to meet your lustful gaze. A smirk circled his around his lips as you cascaded into an orgasm which rolled through your entire body. 

Your back arched and your hands grabbed at the sheets. Spencer continued to fuck you. His thrusts still as rapid and rough as before. His movements didn't die down until his own orgasm overcame him. Your hips buckled as one last moan escaped you; eyes still locked together. His lips found yours as he exploded, your juices mixed trickling down your inner thighs.

The two of you were breathless and sweaty as he rolled off you. Looking at the ceiling above, both of you tried to steady your heavy panting. Spencer placed a hand on his chest which propelled up and down heavily.

“That was-” You began, trying to organise your thoughts. “Amazing.” Spencer finished your sentence. He tilted his head to look at you. You did the same, smiling at him warmly. He reached out his hand and slowly, while caressing your cheek with his thumb, placed the loose strands of hair behind your ear. 

The two of you lay there like that for a moment longer before reality struck. A knock on the door caused you to jump out of bed scrambling for your clothes. You wrapped the hotel robe around you and hid behind the wall as Spencer put on his pants and went to answer the door.

“Emily, hey.” Spencer cleared his throat. You listened in, holding your breath so not to make a sound. “There’s been a break in the case. Can you get dressed and find Y/N? JJ went by her room but there was no answer so we’ll just meet the two of you at the precinct.” “Sure.” You heard the door creak; as if he was about to close it but stopped. “And Reid-” “Yes?” “Please be on your best behaviour. We want Y/N on this team and I won’t tolerate bad bearings like earlier today.” You knew she was referring to him calling you a whore.

The door shut. You shuffled out from behind the wall and looked at the brunette doctor. “You didn't tell Emily I was resigning?” You asked, slightly confused. He shook his head no slowly as if he was scared of your reaction. “Why?” “I- eh- wanted to first try and convince you to stay.” He admitted letting his shoulders fall. In that moment, a terrible realisation hit you.

“Is that why you slept with me?”

“What? No!” He was taken aback by your question. This couldn't possible be what you were thinking now. 

You began to feel sick to your stomach. Head dizzy as a whirlpool of emotions hit you out of nowhere. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god...” Your hands clasped your mouth out of shock. 

“Y/N-” “I have to go.” You cut him off and pushed past him to the door. “No, Y/N listen to me.” He grabbed your arm as you reached for the handle but you shook him off. “I’ll just meet you at the car in ten. I’ll talk to Emily myself when we get to the precinct.” You barked, possibly too harshly, and hurried out of there as fast as your legs could carry you. 

You found it hard to believe that Spencer would stoop as low as have sex with you to make you stay. But then again in the last twenty-four hours he’s proved that he is not the person you once knew. 

The brunette doctor called after you but you blatantly ignored him. In the distance, you heard him curse loudly and slam his door shut. A lone tear trailed down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly trying to contain yourself. No, you weren’t going to let him get in your head like that. This was your dream job, your life. You decided a long time ago that he wasn't going to influence your decisions, now was no time to stop. If he wanted to fuck with your head, fuck you, than two could play that game. 

-

story taglist: @ashwarren32, @haylaansmi, @spencersblog, @lovebodymindstuff, @april-14-blog, @wooya1224, 

masterlist

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

Loki x female!reader

Part 2 (I wanted the first part to be only oneshot, but since a lot of you asked so nicely)

Word count: 2,5K

Warning: angst, fluffy doggie

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @mascaracoffee @serebrum @myworldgoesboomz @lokis-leah @belovedadam @getyoutmoon

You heard him through your door shouting your name, begging you to listen to him, to let him inside to talk to you. You didn't. Your hands tried to cover Rex's ears. Poor pup, he started shivering from all of that shouting and was clinging to you for dear life.

When Loki became quiet for few minutes you kinda expected him to kick the door, call you a bitch and leave. But nothing like that happened. Instead hard footsteps started leaving your door. You were alone once again, feeling more hollow than ever.

*

Sun hasn't even risen yet when you exited the Tower with Rex on the leash. You spent big part of the night making your little friend used to the feeling of being on string and he was already eager to try it out outside your room. You haven't met anyone on your way out, thank heavens.

It started to dawn when you finally got to the park you've been in yesterday. First rays of sun tickled you on your cheeks. Rex was running around, sniffing and marking every tree, chewing on grass and lower parts of benches. You threw him some branches and cones and giggled when he tripped over his small paws. He was so full of life. Unlike you.

You missed Loki. You hated him for what he did, true. But you still missed him. He was so desperate to explain, to make up with you. But you couldn't let him manipulate you anymore. You almost believed him when he called you 'love' and stayed at your door, pleading to be let in.

Almost.

Now that your dog was freshened up after a morning walk, both you and him deserved breakfast. You didn't feel any hunger, but you still needed to put something into you. Even if it will taste like sand in your mouth.

The elevator dinged on the floor containing living room and kitchen. You prayed Loki wasn't there. He wasn't, but you were greeted by another god instead.

Thor was sitting at the table, he had his back to you, but you knew he heard you coming. Rex excitedly ran towards him and started sniffing his leg. You gently pulled him backwards a little.

"Morning," you greeted, your voice a little less cheerful like it used to be.

Thor swallowed anything he was chewing and turned towards you. "What did you do to Loki?"

Of course he had to go and complain to his big bro. "None of your business," you retorted and tied the end of the leash around one of the chairs. You knew if you let your pup go you would have to chase him around the whole New York.

"It is my business. He is my brother-"

"Adoptive," you reminded him his own words he once said the first time you met.

"-adoptive brother. But still mine. Y/N, you used to be so close, why did you lash out on him like that?"

You rolled your eyes. "He deserved it," you started to pour water into kettle.

"He deserved it how?"

"Look, I know what are you going to think when I tell you the truth. But frankly, I don't care. He betrayed me- no, he lied to me. Our whole friendship was a damn game to him. I was a damn game to him. He manipulated me, played the poor sad victim of abusive father so I could get him out of the prison. Which I did! I was so stupid. You were right, all of you were right and I was wrong. He's a villain who can't be trusted," when you ended your rant you realized you gathered enough water for two cups of tea out of habit. You poured half of the kettle down the sink.

"And why do you think he did all of that?" Thor asked

You gulped down the lump creating in your throat upon remembering his words. "I heard him," you whispered loud enough for him to hear.

While the water was heating up you filled Rex's bowel with some canned meat and put it infront of his little snout.

"You must've heard wrong then."

"And how can you be so sure? You weren't even there!" water started bubbling.

"I know Loki better than anyone in this building," he pointed at his chest.

"Well, you know him wrong, just like I did! I trusted him and he-"

"He trusted you back! With his own life!"

"No," you sniffed. "He did not. And I see it now. All those nice things he did, all those hugs and gifts. He did all of it so I could trust him more," you turned away from him. "I don't know why he's still keeping up the 'good guy' facade. He knows I found out. Does he really think me so stupid to fall for his trick again?" a tear or two escaped your eyes.

"He doesn't. I have known him his whole life Y/N, he's not that kind of a person. He is genuenly sorry."

"Then why isn't he here? Why isn't he telling me he's sorry? Did he make you fix his mistake?" you asked a little too tetchily.

"Y/N, I-"

"Y/N! My dear, you are up earlier than I expected," Thor's voice came from behind you. The one in front of you, did a facepalm, pain on his face. "It is a nice sight to wake up to," the Thor behind you winked, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the other Thor hiding his face in his big palm.

You turned to the facepalming Thor. "Loki, you nasty bastard!" your hand was twitching to throw still burning kettle at his head as he let the illusion vanish, but you didn't want to scare Rex.

"Y/N, listen to me," he took a stwp forward, you step backward and your lower back hit the counter.

"And why should I?! You lied again! How am I supposed to trust you after all your lies?!"

"Technically I didn't lie, you never asked if I was the real Thor," there was his silvertongue again.

"Fuck you and your sarcasm, Laufeyson," you never wished for a puppy to finish eating more than now. All you wanted to do was pick him up and hide in your room again.

"Whoa, is this about the yelling we heard yesterday?" Thor asked.

"You heard it?" you couldn't have been so loud, could you?

"Yelling yes, topic no."

"Oh, so he didn't boast?" you glared back at the trickster god.

"No, I am a big boy, I can fix my own problems without pouring my heart out to anyone. So to answer your previous question: no, I did not make Thor fix my mistake. And for your second question: I am here now, and I am willing to apologize, even though I did nothing wrong, technically."

"Yeah, technically you only broke my trust and my heart," you took your cup of tea in one hand, put Rex's bowel in the sink and untied his leash with the second hand.

He ran before you and held you by your shoulders. "Technically I was doing what I had to."

"Yes, getting some gold digger drunk and getting in her pants is something you had to do," you tried to walk by him but his grip was firm.

"No, you misunderstood the whole situation. It was part of a mission. She was a mistress of one retired agent of hydra and she allegedly had some useful info. Tony thought that with my charm and silvertongue I could make her give it to us," his eyes seemed to tell the truth.

"And how did your conversation turn to me, huh?"

He sighed. "She saw my lockscreen and asked who was the girl on it. I had to lie. I had to tell her all those filthy lies to convince her I truly want her. My tongue burned the whole time, believe me."

You looked at him, long and hard. A sad chuckle escaped your lips. "You are a master at lying, I give you that. And this one," you slipped from his grasp, "was well thought out."

You ran to your room, leaving both brothers bewildered in the kitchen. When you closed the door behind you and let Rex go off his leash, that's when you broke. You fell down toyour knees and started crying. How could you be so stupid to fall for one of his tricks again?

You felt Rex's little tongue licking salty trials from your cheeks, his wet cold nose nudging your face. He brought you one of his squeeky toys and showed you how to play with them. He was doing anything to cheer you up.

This little guy knew you for only a day and a half and he already loved you with his entire being. The stranger in park was right, dog really is man's bestfriend.

*

You played with your pup. You didn't have enrgy to do anything more productive. He already understood the concept of retrieving and he always came running back to you with any toy you threw him.

When it was time for lunch, you put a leash on Rex and using secret staircases and halls to avoid kitchen and any common areas you got out. On your way to the park you bought yourself something to eat.

Rex smelled the meat in the food and stood up on two legs, begging for a treat. One does not simply resist his puppy eyes.

When you entered through the gate circling the park you spot a big familiar golden retriever. Ollie.

He recognised you and was dragging his owner by his leash towards you. The owner recognised you too. "Hello there, do you remember me?"

"Of course I do. As well as this pretty boy," you patted Ollie on the head. Rex got jealous and instead of greeting a fellow canine he tugged your jean with his tiny needle-like teeth. You scratched him behind his ears. "But of course, you are much prettier boy," as if he understood the praise he puffed his tiny chest and looked very pleased with himself.

"I see you followed my advice," the man pointed at your dog.

"Yeah, and you were right. He did make everything a little better. At times," you smiled sadly.

"Don't worry, time heals everything," he put his hand on your shoulder sympatheticly.

"I hope so," you sighed.

"By the way, seems like we are becoming dog buddies. Wouldn't it be good to know each others' names?" he changed the subject.

"Yeah, I suppose it would," you held out your free hand. "Y/N."

He took it. "Max."

*

You convinced Max to stay out with you as long as he could. You really didn't want to return to Tower anytime soon. You made at least 4 rounds around the enormous park, Rex gave up walking after the thrid one and you had to carry him.

Max told you how he got cheated on in more detail. How it resoluted in a big fight, flying plates and broken bottles. You told him your own situation. You had to change few details, so he wouldn't find out you are an Avenger.

"What do you think Max? Should I trust him?"

"Honestly? I don't know. He did sound like a cool guy until you got to the whole 'gold digger' part. Do you want to trust him?"

Your eyes studied dirt below your boots. "Yes, he was my closest friend. And I miss him. But I can't let myself be his toy again. I don't want him to hurt me," you hugged Rex tighter to your chest and he started licking any piece of skin he could reach, mainly your neck.

"He sounded like he was really sorry. I would try to reason with him and talk to him more, but I can't tell you what to do."

You hummed. Your bag started to buzz. You fished out your phone and looked at the icon. It was blank, but the caller ID was called 'Loki'. You made few changes at night and deleted the old selfie.

"Speak of the devil," you reluctantly picked up. "What do you want?"

"To show you a proof," his voice sounded tired and emotionless. A little hoarse.

"Why are you still trying?" you asked, tiredness evident in your voice too.

"Because I don't want to loose you. Please, just this once. Let me show it to you, and then you are free to leave. For good," he really sounded defeated. If you didn't know better you would run to him and hugged him tightly.

You pondered it a little. It could be another trick. Eventually you gave in. "Fine, I'll be there in 10 to 15 minutes," you hung up and turned towards Max. "I'm sorry, I have to go. It was great talking to you!"

"You too. Good luck!"

*

"This better not be one of your tricks," you entered Bruce's second lab, just as Loki instructed. He was sitting at one of Bruces desks behind a big monitor. "It isn't, trust me."

"That's something that's really hard to do," you glared.

He hid his hurt and pressed play. A video from security cameras was playing. With audio as well. You saw him pouring red wine fro him and the woman. She wasn't blond how you imagined her but the rest of her looked exactly like in your head: plastic.

Few flirts were exchanged and then you heard the part you were already familiar with. Your heart hurt and you felt Rex rub himself on your leg.

He was telling the truth. When she said what they wanted to hear, Loki touched her forhead and she stood up and left as if nothing ever happened.

He turned the video off and turned to you. You didn't know how to react. You were so glad he didn't mean those words he said. But hearing them still hurt.

"Loki, I know what you said wasn't truth, and I really want to trust you again. But..."

He hung his head. "I understand. Being friends with a liar is risky as it is," he stood up and walked toward glass doors.

'Move! Tell him something! Anything! Tell him you're sorry! Tell him you want to be friends again!' your mind screamed at you. You opened your mouth, but no words left it. You felt paralyzed.

Before he could exit completely, he turned towards you and smiled, though his eyes were hollow and wet. "He does deserve the 'best friend' title more than me," his voice broke in the middle of the sentence and left, before you could hear his heart breaking anew.

Part 3?

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed The Radio Star- Chapter 4 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Happy new year! Please remember that most of these chapters are very sensitive to some readers and to be safe with this new year upon us! Another reminder that if you ever feel helpless, you are not alone and you are loved. Love you all- Em <3

Warnings: Sex talk, infidelity, blood, disturbing material, loss of a child, and suicide.

Plot: We take a small look into Heather’s past and the events leading up to her obsession. The team seems to be missing a piece of the puzzle. Adeline comes back to the station. 

Word Count: 2.9K

Four years prior- January 10, 20XX

Heather had thinned out since she dropped out of college, to achieve so she had fallen victim to eating disorders. They were horrible, but they did tremendous work. She didn’t necessarily like herself per se, but she did like how she looked, even if sometimes she would look into the mirror and think “Is that me?”

Heather deleted the old version of herself and became more social. She had friends, she went to parties, she even went to bars. The bars were what bothered her the most, maybe it was the Catholic guilt building up, it could also be the fact that she was using a fake i.d. She always hated lying, it made her stomach twist into nervous knots. Tonight, she decided, would be fun. She wouldn’t throw up after eating, she wouldn’t feel guilty for having fun, instead, she would simply have a good time with her friends.

Yes, a good time is what she needed. It was around the start of the new year when Heather, privately, declared that she didn’t have to be so miserable. She deserved to do something fun, at least for tonight. In her attempt at happiness, she dressed in a casual black dress that hugged her body in a way that made her uncomfortable but made men comfortable.

Heather could play the social butterfly, but in reality, she was a wallflower. Her friends had yet to arrive so she stayed up against one of the walls of the bar, silently begging that they wouldn’t arrive too late. That’s when David approached her. David was beautiful, to say the least, with dark skin, a defined body, the most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen, and to top it all off he was a man in uniform. Even Heather, in all of her innocence, found him irresistible.

Like a shot, Heather and David got married. Heather kept her last name and thanks to their marriage, David got some time off, he could be there to help pick out their new house. It all felt so fast, Heather was happy, but sometimes she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. Heather got a good two months with her husband before he off to England.

A year later when David came home, he was more distant, he didn’t want to be there. At first, Heather tried to keep him home with sex. They had sex almost everywhere, like animals. Then he started to go out, with some of their mutual friends. He would go out every night and stay out till six in the morning. Heather felt desperately lost, love slipping through her fingers, and she was hopelessly devoted to a man who was slowly falling out of love with her.

David would still have sex with her, but once he was done he would get up and leave. He always said he had somewhere to be, had work to do, but she knew that he was done with her. Well, done with her until she announced that she was pregnant. Then suddenly he was there again. He stayed in their bed at night and he cared about her.

Six months was coming around when Heather shot up in bed one night, her body in unbearable pain. The couple drove to the hospital as fast as they could, but by the time they got there it was too late, and that’s when the rest started to fall apart. David didn’t start to pull away till a couple of months later, six to be exact, and then he was on his way to Japan.

That’s when it all started, she would read anything romantic she could find. Her library consisted only of romance, sappy as it seemed. She was able to escape into a world where a man could simply love a woman, most adherently. What made her break was when David called a month before their fourth anniversary saying that when he came home he wanted a divorce and that he had met someone else.

That’s when she started seeing Y/N.

***

Present-day- March 9, 20XX

You woke up with the taste of blood in your mouth, not needing a mirror to know that the cut on your lip had broken open more in your sleep. Your tongue slid out of your mouth, licking away the blood in one swift motion. For almost two days now, morphine and blood was your diet. The only thing filtering through your veins.

You didn’t mind at this point, you were close enough to the edge of the bed that you could grab the morphine drip, you turned the nobs to make your intake high enough to feel numb. The drug was currently letting you forget, letting you forget how many times Heather kissed you, letting you forget all the assault that had been inflicted on you in the past few days.

Your head was pounding as your eyes looked around the pink room, the light making you slightly nauseous. You frowned as a tiny thought came into your brain, would this ruin all romantic endeavors for you? Would you ever be able to feel comfortable with someone seeing you naked? Would it be alright if they saw the word ‘Slut’ on your chest? You were about to bite your lip, in a lame attempt to keep yourself from crying before you remembered the cut, and you were reduced to crying silent tears as you stared up at the ceiling, trying your best to let the feeling of numbness wash over you.

Heather was downstairs, in her forest green kitchen, washing the blood off the paring knife. Rational thoughts were finally coming to her as she began to think about the seriousness of her situation. She needed a safe out. If she ran away or killed you it would mean she would have to spend an even longer time in prison. A life spent behind bars, knowing that no one would be missing her. What a painfully sad existence she lived, she thought before she started to sob over the running sink.

She remembered what she said yesterday, about how she would kill herself and you if they ever found the two of you, but that outcome was becoming more of a reality to her now. Did she have to kill Catherine? All she wanted was for you to love her, for the two of you to love each other. She tried to follow the path of normal people, the path of falling in love with someone naturally instead of kidnapping them. She had already done the marriage thing and look where that got her, she was a childless, psychopathic, soon-to-be divorcee.

No, she couldn’t spend the rest of her miserable life in prison, it had to be the latter. Heather dropped the knife into the sink, walking away towards one of the kitchen drawers to pull out a handgun, her husband was in the military, of course, he taught her how to use a gun. She put the gun on the kitchen counter, walking out to the living room to turn on the news. After all, she didn’t have to end it all if they weren’t onto her yet.

***

The profile was on pause, and they had yet to share it. Hotch was staring at photos of Y/N, Adeline Smith, and Heather Alexander, all three went to the same college, lived in the same building, and on the same floor. They all knew each other, all three of them seemed to be friends. Garcia had managed to contact some other girls that lived on that same floor. They knew you and Adeline but didn’t have much to say about Heather.

Spencer took a tiny sip of his coffee, trying to ignore how bad it tasted, as he stared at the photos with Hotch. Y/N was an English major, Adeline was psychology, and Heather was a theater major before she dropped out. He found that strange being as she was a florist now.

Derek let out a sigh, feeling especially restless on this case. He kept saying that he wanted to find you as soon as possible, Garcia jokingly told him that you probably weren’t going to tell him he had nice arms in real life, but the real reason he wanted to find you was because of your last video. It stuck with him, it stuck with all of them, your desperate plea to be found. The one it was effecting the most was Spencer.

During their car rides together, Spencer had shared that he felt they were all being deceived. He said he felt like the person was right under their noses, and yet they were just focusing too much on one thing instead of the other. After that, he combed through the evidence once again, searching for something else. Something that he could have missed, which seemed impossible, but nothing was impossible.

“So, a woman in her mid-twenties that knew Y/N since college and works in the city. Oh, and she’s a beautiful brunette.” Prentiss said with a small cold laugh.

“Let’s not forget that she has a passion for romance novels, especially the classics,” Rossi added as he came to stand with the other members of his team.

A small knock at the door made all of them turn their heads towards the door, looking strangely familiar to a pack of animals. The sheriff stood in the frame of the door as she pointed behind her “There’s an Adeline Smith here, talking about Y/N L/N.” she said simply as Spencer and Emily slipped past her and headed towards Adeline.

“Agent Prentiss,” Adeline said softly with a nervous smile “I was thinking about earlier today when you were interrogating me and I thought about something strange.”

“Strange,” Spencer repeated “How so?”

Spencer and Emily were already leading her back to the conference room they were set up in, offering her a seat before she answered Spencer’s question “Well, I just remembered somethings that Heather did.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat softly, eyes looking around at the team slowly surround her “, She always acted differently around Y/N, she would never say it out loud but she hated it when I was there, you could see it in her eyes.”

Derek set a cup of coffee down for Adeline, she grabbed it as soon as it hit the table, taking a sip to calm her nerves. “She wanted Y/N all to herself, I get that with like a best friend but I was closer to Y/N than she was, so it was just strange.” Hotch frowned as they all shared one single thought, just because Heather Alexander had an unhealthy attachment to Y/N L/N didn’t mean that she was their unsub. Adeline gently gasped and straightened in her chair “I just remembered something!”

“It was around Halloween and the three of us got invited to this party and Y/N, being Y/N, decided she wanted to go as Catherine Earnshaw from Wuthering Heights or something and I told her it was stupid and that no one would get it, but she was pretty determined. Then one night, Heather heard that and she was all excited to be Heathcliff, said that Y/N would be her Catherine Earnshaw, said that she made a perfect Catherine Earnshaw. That never really sat right with me, that’s when I started to think that Heather was a little in love with Y/N, but then she dropped out.”

It clicked then, that their Unsub was Heather Alexander. It made sense, the copies of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, Heather thought of Y/N as her lover, Heather was Heathcliff, she was Mr. Rochester, she believed that Y/N’s purpose was to love her. Spencer was already walking out with Derek before Emily could thank Adeline for coming in. The rest of the team following quickly behind.

***

Heather had her back towards the television, leaning against the back of her living room couch staring out the window. Nothing was coming onto the news and nothing was happening out of the street. Heather could feel guilt eating away at her consciousness, she had snapped earlier when you refused to let her show you her love. You had yet to do that, you were so good, she loved her Catherine. She felt tiny tears rise to the surface, letting them fall as she moved away from the couch, grabbing the gun from the counter, and heading upstairs.

You were frozen on the bed, feeling like you were suffocating as Heather came back into the room. Sometimes she looked so normal, sometimes she looked like she was hurting, suffering from something. Your eyes were locked onto her as she shuffled awkwardly into the room, reminding you of how she used to act in college. Her eyes weren’t staying on you, they seemed to look around the room in a nervous haze. “Catherine,” she said in a tearful voice “I’m sorry.” she apologized, and as soon as she did her eyes locked onto yours.

You felt such pity for her in an instantaneous second, but that emotion was fleeting as you stared up at her. You could never forgive her for what she had done to you, as much as you would like to try to. You would love to be righteous, but you could only feel anger at the moment.  She looked down at you, waiting for an answer, waiting for forgiveness. You silently decided that she would have to wait forever, she would have to wait until she held a gun to your head, only then would you forgive her, simply because you didn’t want to die. 

You broke eye contact with her, looking around the room as she started to cry over the side of the bed, suddenly noticing that the door was slightly open. You peeled your eyes away from it quickly, afraid that if she followed your gaze she would notice and shut the door. 

You were currently trying to move your arm, the morphine making it more difficult than it should have been. When you were finally able to lift your arm, you weakly grabbed Heather’s arm, your hand slipping slowly down her arm. Heather’s tears slowed as she watched your struggling attempt to touch her. She smiled when you did, taking it as a sign of forgiveness. Heather suddenly felt lighter, she slumped over the side of the bed with a heavy sigh. She was about to speak when pounding at the front door interrupted her train of thought. 

Her head turned quickly to look over her shoulder, letting out a tiny curse as she ran over to shut the door, locking it from the outside, as the front door was broken down. Heather returned to the bed, grabbing the morphine drip, and yanked the wire out of your vein. You couldn’t feel it yet, but you were sure that soon you would. 

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins as you realized what was happening. The police were here, the FBI was here, your videos had worked. You didn’t think that they would work, that they would be helpful, you couldn’t believe that the police had called the BAU here, just because you said you wanted them to work your case.

The adrenaline was working quickly, you sat up cautiously, swaying slightly. Heather was hyperventilating now, hand on her chest as she tried to calm down and think. She looked back at Catherine sitting up on the bed, eyes wide. Were you scared? Heather let out a shaky sigh, reaching behind her to pull out the gun she had been hiding under her shirt. Your eyes looked at the gun in her hand before shifting to look into her eyes quickly “Heather,” you started, scooting away from her on the bed. “Heather, you know you don’t have to do this. The police, if you kill me, the police will-”

“You don’t think I know what the police will do? I have to kill you and then I have to kill myself.” her hands were shaking as she held the gun towards you. There was pounding on the door. You felt tears fill your eyes, cheeks becoming red as you began to beg for your life.

“Please don’t do this, we can get out of this together. You don’t have to do this, Heather!” She flinched when you said her name, another pound at the door.

Her eyes were wide as she stole a look over at the door, it was rattling and the two of you could hear voices on the other side. She turned back to look at you, biting her lip as she cried, hands dropping. You didn’t say anything, shaking with anxiety as she lifted the gun up to her chin, smiling sweetly at you. “Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”

“Heather, please, listen to me! Please, you don’t have to do this!”

“Goodbye, Catherine.” she finished as she pulled the trigger, gun-shot ringing throughout the house. Your ears were ringing as you let out a blood-curdling scream, watching Heather’s head explode in front of you, then the door came down.