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#him asking derek if he did something wrong because he feels like he's being punished
blusandbirds · 11 months
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isaac lahey ("your father locked you in a freezer in the basement to punish you." "he didn't used to.")
"shape shifted" (teen wolf) // "cut" (catherine lacey) // "abomination" (teen wolf) // "unleashed" (teen wolf) // "motel california" (teen wolf) // "anchors" (teen wolf)
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atlabeth · 17 days
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too sweet
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.
a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing
wc: 2.4k
warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff
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Hotch can’t focus. 
Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 
You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.
You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 
And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.
Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 
It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 
Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 
But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 
Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 
Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 
But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 
You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 
It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 
But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 
Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 
Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 
Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 
But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 
It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 
“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 
“What?” 
“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 
“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 
JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 
“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 
Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 
“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 
“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 
“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 
“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 
Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 
Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 
“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 
“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 
“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 
JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 
Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 
“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  
“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 
Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 
“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 
“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 
“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 
Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 
“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 
“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 
“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 
“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 
He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 
“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 
“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 
“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 
“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 
Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 
“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 
Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”
“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 
He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 
“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 
“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 
You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 
Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 
His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 
Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 
He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 
He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 
You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 
“How do you feel about tequila?” 
You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 
“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 
Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 
“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 
“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 
“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 
“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 
“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.
And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 
“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 
Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 
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zaceouiswriting · 2 years
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The hazelnut brown-eyed boy
Character: (Young) Derek Hale x male reader
Universe: Teen Wolf
Warnings: Near death 
Being new to a school in the middle of the year has never been easy for anyone. Maybe even be one of the hardest things a teenager can do. Still, I was forced to do so, thanks to the selfishness of my parents. 
There was no need to change schools if only they kept their jobs instead of getting better opportunities. They could have waited a year for me to finish school. A year and a half, but that wasn’t the point. They did it without talking to me. They just decided it was the right decision.
Because of this, I found myself at a new school in a country I knew nothing about, with no one to call a friend. As soon as I entered the building, hundreds of eyes were on my form - It was unnerving, at best.
But no one seemed to get a liking to me. I thought so because I could walk down the hall without anyone stopping me to chat. For some reason, it hurt that not a single person seemed to feel sorry for me because I was obviously out of place.
Not even the teacher seemed to acknowledge me, which pissed me off the most. They said that I was new, but nothing more. As if all of this wasn't hard enough for me to change schools and countries already. But for the teacher to disregard me this harshly?
I was furious! The bad part was that other students seemed to ignore me because of it. Some even made every effort to avoid me.
I sniffed myself several times. At no time could I get anything wrong with me. With every day that passed, I became angrier with my parents. And each time, they gave me harsher punishments. None of them ever worked because my parents were never home to enforce them. In the end, they just yelled at me.
They told me to socialize more and that I couldn't stay away from the world forever. I never was someone to hide like this. But this place and the people living here were just not my cups of tea. 
They did not like me and the other way around too. I just gave up talking with my parents about it. Just put my head down, never doing anything wrong, so the teachers wouldn’t have a reason to call them. The entire second half of the year I was there was the same.
I got to school and got ignored, even by the teachers. Sometimes I even needed to make them aware of me so they would give me a project or something like this. At the end of the year, I was empty and soulless.
But early in the next year, something strange happened. Someone ran into me. As our eyes met, he smiled at me. The first time since I came there that someone acknowledged my existence. At that point, I even thought I had died and haunted these people as a ghost.
Looking into his brown eyes gave me a little bit of life back. Still, he felt strange. Something about him was different from the others. 
Just then, I felt someone staring at me. But when I turned to see who was looking at me so intently, no one was there.
I brushed it off quickly as just an imagination. After the encounter with the handsome stranger, that was plausible.
For some reason, everything felt just at home when I was still happy. My steps had a slight happy jump in them. I felt light as a feather. 
The other people seemed to see the difference in me from the first moment on. A few girls flirted with me, and a few guys asked if I wanted to try sports because, in their words: "Dude, you look perfect to play…“ and then added whatever sports they were trying to get me to play.
I always said `Yes´ to all of them because I did not want to end up alone again, just like the last year. Teachers also suddenly saw me and wanted to hear me in class. As if last year had never happened. It was weird, but it still felt good.
It came to a head as I tried out for every single sports activity, lacrosse, soccer, and handball. While trying out for basketball, I saw the hazelnut brown-eyed boy again. He smiled in my direction before looking at me in complete shock as I effortlessly threw the ball into the basket from the halfway line.
But as the coach threw me another ball, I didn’t feel it. It was just a ball. The gummy in my hands felt disgusting. "It's not for me," was all I could say before leaving the place. I could hear a murmur as I did this, but nothing more.
A while later, I found myself at the indoor pool. The last activity there was this day. The moment I touched the water: I knew I had found my way. I finished my lengths faster than the others, even than the swim team.
To say that the coach was impressed was an understatement. He instantly gave me a place, which I gladly took. In no time, I got friends after I believed that I would never find someone again.
From that moment on, the days passed faster. Before I even knew it, months had gone by. I saw the cute hazelnut brown boy less and less. Until one day, I haven’t seen him at all. For some unknown reason, it bugged me. 
To clear my head, I went to the pool, where I made swam my tracks. As I came to an end, I saw feet at my eye level. 
Surprisingly, as I looked further up, I locked eyes with the boy who gave me my life back. „Are you finished?“ he asked with a smug smile.
I was confused for a moment until he stretched his hand out. As soon as I took it, I was standing in front of a big house in the middle of the woods. The sun began slightly to set. A girl in front of it mumbled something about killing the beasts. Before that, she threw something in a basement window and then screamed deafening screams of death. After the flames died and everything was settled, I could see the boy whose hands I was still holding scream out loud.
„Is everything good?“ he called me out of my vision. Horror was written upon my face.
"Do you and your family live in the forest?" I asked him without warning. "Are you werewolves?" That was the part he became uncomfortable with. He tried to get his hand from me. „Does a blond hair girl know of this? Maybe even a huntress?“
To my surprise, he stopped to try to get away from me. He didn't want to answer me, but the look in his eyes told me everything.
"We have to go," I told him, already starting to run, his hand in mine.
From that moment, everything became a blur. My powers went wild. I teleported us a couple of times, meters away. But I wasn’t strong enough to bring us the entire way.
But thanks to these short moments, we came to the house just in time. The girl in my vision just began her monolog. The thing she threw through the window was still in her hands.
„Hey!“ I screamed over the place. Her head turned faster toward me than I could’ve imagined.
„You shouldn’t be here,“ she mumbled lowly, her eyes solely on the boy I still hold hand with.
„What are you doing here?“ he asked her. But he also saw the thing she had in her hands. And he must’ve heard her talking. Different from me because I don’t have these powers.
„They need to die! They’re monsters!“ she screamed before finally throwing it. Before it could break the glass, it stopped. The girl looked at it in confusion, and the boy stopped in his sudden scream that pierced the stillness of the forest.
Both saw it levitating in the air. My hand outstretched, holding it in place. „The only monster is you!“ I told her while getting the thing she wanted to throw into the house in my hand.
As it was securely in my palm, I could feel a sharp pain. A crossbow bolt hung from my shoulder. I did not even see her having a weapon.
The boy at my hand was instantly at my side, looking at the wound. "Don't worry," I told him while pulling it out without touching it once.
My eyes flew from the bolt to the girl on the other side of the place. „You know, I don’t like to be hurt. Maybe without your hands, you will never be able to do something stupid like this ever again.“ It was evident on my annoyed and slightly angry face that I would go through with my threat.
Before she could run, she fell to the floor. Her hands were outstretched on the floor. „Maybe without your bones, the world could be a better place.“
Just as I finished my words, the girl screamed. Her hands were flattened. But I had no sympathy for her. She wanted to kill an entire family and me because we were different.
I did not register that I stopped holding hands with the boy while I walked closer to the girl. „Your legs seemed to be a problem too. Am I right? I mean, you could run to people and tell them lies, maybe without these bones too?“ A sinister smile on my lips while I also began to build pressure on her legs.
Because I didn't use my powers for a long time, I started to get dizzy. It was too much in a short amount of time. But I couldn’t stop yet. She needed to know the pain.
„Stop him!“ I heard an older woman scream. Shortly after, the boy in front of me.
"It's enough!" he tried to get me away from me and tried to do it right away.
"Stop him, Derek! If he doesn't stop, he'll die himself, break his concentration!" the same woman yelled again. I already could feel my brain at the edge of exploding, but I did not care.
But finally, shortly before my own death, I learned about the boy's name, who gave me my life back. Derek seemed concerned. And out of ideas. At least, I thought that. But a moment later, I felt something I had never felt before. Lips on my own. So soft and so warm that they took my entire being hostage. 
I again could see what would happen. Derek and me kissing in his room, and his mom came in telling us that the food was ready. We weren’t even embarrassed about her finding us. Later, in college and at our wedding, we weren't even in our mid-twenties. His suit was all black, with red parts, and mine in white and blue. With our children and even together on our deathbeds.
Just as Derek broke our kiss, I could feel the blood spurting out of my nose, which must have made him want to break apart. As I put my hand on his cheek and smiled at him, I fell into his arms. Warm blackness surrounds me. But I knew I was safe and that this wasn't the end. Thanks to the hazelnut brown eyes boy.
[Masterlist]
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spookydrreid · 3 years
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Daisy // Part Three
Summary: When a young girl stumbles into the arms of Spencer Reid in a local police station, she is panting and terrified. And after being held captive for ten years, she is mute and very skeptical of her world around her. Can Spencer teach her to trust again?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Content warnings: talks of abuse, talks of victim blaming, talks of victim not being believed, talks of conspiracy theories, talks of internet being bad
Word count: 800
A/n: she is short and sweet because it’s a filler! But next chapter? I’ll make it extra long just to make up for it xx
Part One // Part Two //
…..
“Do you know how to type?”
The man asking me such a question was called Derek Morgan. He was tall, dark and very muscular. Not like Spencer. He was kind, but not as kind as Spencer. And to be frank, he scared me.
Spencer stayed in the room with me, calming my nerves and being my voice. He read me well. Sometimes I felt he could read me a little too well. But I didn’t mind because he was always spot on in how I was feeling and what I wanted. Even without me writing it all down.
“Daisy? Do you?” Spencer asked me again. I nodded and used my thumb and pointer to show ‘a little bit.’ I had learned the basics before he took me, but he never let me practice.
He’d say the internet was bad, filled with useless information on the end of the world, aliens, and things that could be scary for little girls. I knew he was lying but fighting meant punishments. So, I just nodded and agreed.
“Would writing be easier?” Spencer asked, “or do you want to just type it at your own speed.”
I thought about it for a moment, his soft voice telling me he didn’t mind either way. I grabbed my notebook, writing down what I wanted. ‘I can type it. I’ll be slow. Is that okay?’
I slide it towards Spencer, looking at my hands in slight embarrassment. I was 22, and I knew these were life skills that I missed out on. But it wasn’t my fault. No, it was Cals. He took my childhood and teen years away from me. He forced me to be silent. He did it.
“Of course, that’s okay, Daisy.” I saw the smile pull at his lips. It was…weird. He cared. No one had truly cared about me in ten years. And while it felt good, I was still a little hesitant.
I nodded and smiled, doing my best to keep the hesitation from my features. But he knew, of course, he knew.
“I know this can be scary and hard. But I’m right here!” He softly smiled, his eyes kind as they crinkled on the sides. “And if you want privacy, I can give you that too. Okay?”
I nodded before signing ‘okay’ back to, Spencer. I turned back to the computer in front of me, sitting up straight and looking down at the keyboard in front of me. I felt overwhelmed in a way I’d never experienced before.
What if I messed up?
What if I said something wrong?
What if there was a detail missing?
What if no one believed me?
That one haunted me the most. I was terrified that once this was written, and read over, my luck would run out. That they would kick me to the curb and Spencer would hate me.
I was also afraid of judgment. Putting it out onto paper made it real. It made it something I could no longer file into the back of my mind, saving it for later. There was a finality about it; similar to the way speaking made things final as well.
And the cherry on top of that? Cal was charismatic. He’d talked so many young woman into coming home with him; promises of a better, safer life swarmed in those eyes. And I was certain he’d get them to take his side.
Okay… so I wasn’t absolutely certain. But I was worried.
“Daisy?” Spencers voice makes me realize I’ve written nothing. It also makes me realize ten minutes had passed. “A-are you okay?”
I shake my head.
“Okay! Okay… do you want to tell me why?” He slides the pen and paper towards me with a smile and nod.
‘Cal can be convincing…’ I wrote before showing Spencer.
“I’m sure he can. But I’ve seen what he’s done with my own eyes. He won’t convince me he never hurt you.”
‘You say that now’ I reply and show him once again. My eyes don’t meet his
He sighs “Daisy, no one will ever convince he that he didn’t hurt you. You don’t speak, you flinch when someone moves quickly , you don’t like being touched? Those are signs of abuse. Clear and concise signs you’ve been hurt. Nothing can change my mind.”
I’m almost in tears as he says that. But I shove them down, deciding to deal with them later.
‘Promise?’ I ask and hold up my pinky. It’s clear that it shocks him for a moment, our contact being minimal prior.
But wraps his pinky around mine, shaking my hand slightly, “promise” before kissing his side of his hand.
“Promise” I whisper back before mirroring his kiss.
….
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leahblackk · 3 years
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Lies pt.3
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(The gif is not mine. Whoever made this thank you so much and I’m sorry)
Summary: After Y/n is kidnapped Spencer needs to find her before it is too late, but this makes Spencer being put into a very familiar position.
Type: Angst.
Alright people, finally we have the last part of lies and I have to thank all of you for the support and for being so patient with me. I am so sorry for taking so long, and I am sorry for what you will read. I might or might not have cried while I was writing it and editing it. And this fucking thing is so longgg so i am sorry. It took 16 pages like what???
With so much love and pain, Leah.
If you haven't read the first and second part here are the links. 
And if you can read this while listening to Moonlight by future Islands it will be perfect because I was definitely listening to it while I wrote this.
People who asked me to tag them: @rexorangecouny, @b-a-utiful, @measure-in-pain, @jemimah-b99, @brod16​ 
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Y/n and Spencer have never been apart from each other. There was something that made the two young doctors crave each other. There was a connection with so much chemistry, with so much love and appreciation. The love they felt for each other wasn't like the others, and they never felt that way with anyone. After all, they belong together because they fit together. Because they were meant to be.
One of their first dates was to watch stars while they made a picnic. Spencer remembers the way her hair was being softly moved by the cold wind of that night. The moon wasn't complete because that way, they could see the stars better. The constellations were connected in the way they were, how the sky was being decorated by the little space things we call stars.
Spencer remembers very vividly how she always talks about astronomy and how the sky and space made her feel.
And that night, the stars were out. Spencer wishes she could be there with him to tell him facts about astronomy even though Spencer already knew all those facts. Still, in the way she narrates it, how she talks so happily, how she moves her hands, and how her eyes are sparkly and lighter than the stars itself make everything better. It was better to hear and learn those facts from her than in a boring book he could finish in less than an hour.
But she wasn't with him. He didn't even know where she was, but when he was out there watching the stars while hot, painful tears were streaming down his face. The universe was the only one who could know how he felt because the universe himself was the one that made them be together. Or well, that's what Spencer liked to think.
But certainly, the night sky wasn't that beautiful now she wasn't there. The night was colder, and he felt alone, empty. The stars seem dull in his eyes. The universe and astronomy weren't that beautiful anymore because the only stars Spencer wanted to watch were her eyes.
And then and there, Spencer made a promise. If he didn't find Y/n, he would never look at the night sky ever again. He won't even going to talk about astronomy in his life because that was her thing, and Spencer didn't want to take that away from her, but if he did find her, he would look at the stars every night before he goes to sleep. He would talk about astronomy, but only to her. He would thank the universe for the rest of his life. He would read all the facts so he can tell her because she always wanted to learn. She always asked Spencer about astronomy.
Spencer wanted his universe again.
He was so stuck in his mind. His eidetic memory wasn't a blessing at that moment. So he didn't hear his friend Derek Morgan approaching him.
He stood beside him. The doctor wasn't looking at his friend. He was looking up.
"Did you know space is complete silence? Some people might think it has a specific type of sound. But is silent." He murmurs while Morgan looks at him in confusion.
"No, I didn't know." He was going to encourage his friends, but the young doctor interrupted him.
"Did you know that on mars, the sunset is blue? I think it's something interesting."
"Kid…"
"Did you know that the name milky way galaxy has something to do with Greek mythology and Hercules? It says that Hera was nursing Hercules while she was asleep, and then when she woke up and pulled away, her breast milk spilled across the heavens. But in Greek mythology, Hera didn't like Hercules because it wasn't her son. Y/n told me that."
"Spencer, I think that's pretty interesting, but-"
"Did you know that-"
"Spencer!"
"What?" Spencer finally looked at his friend with tears in his eyes.
"We are going to find her. I promise."
"Are we? I mean, it's been an hour, twenty minutes, and three seconds since she was kidnapped, and we don't even have a clue where she is. Do you think we are gonna find her, or you just say it because you know this is all my fault, and if I didn’t kiss Cat, she wouldn't be kidnapped?"
Morgan sighed and hugged Spencer. The young doctor was known because he didn't like physical contact, but at that moment, he needed it. "This is not your fault. None of this is your fault, and we both knew you had to kiss her. You err was not telling her why you did it, but you will."
"I tried Morgan," Spencer cried. "I tried, but she wouldn't listen to me. Why didn't she listen to me? I love her. I love her more than anything. I can't lose her. I can't."
"You won't, kid. You won't."
And there, Spencer cried in Morgan's shoulder.
 Twenty minutes after, Spencer tried to help the team in everything he could, but sometimes he would space out, thinking in those moments where Y/n would bring him back to reality by holding his knee. He looked down and put his own hand in his knee, trying to remember what it felt when it was her the one doing it.
"Go ahead, Garcia," Morgan said. There weren't pet names anymore. No one was in good humor to flirt. Even Penelope, her best friend, was missing, and his lack of pet names, cocky and sarcastic answers was showing. She didn't smile, but everyone knew something was wrong besides their current situation.
"A-A video has been sent to- to Spencer. It is Y/n" Penelope tried to talk. Her eyes were red, meaning she was crying.
Everyone looks at Spencer. "Show us." He said.
"Right away."
Everyone looked at the screen in front of them, waiting anxiously for the video. Spencer knew it wasn't a good one.  The video started with a woman in front of the camera not giving a chance to see what was being her but apparently it was a chair.
The woman was trying to get a good angle, and when she made it, she started to walk away from the camera, not losing her view—everyone gasped except Spencer and Hotch, who already had their suspicions. The woman was Cat Adams.
"Hiya Spencie, sadly, I don't get to see you, but at least you can see me," she greeted. "I found someone outside of your office, and it was easy to catch her, and you thought she was smart."
Cat stepped aside, leaving Y/n in everyone's view. She had some minor bruises in her temple, and her lip was bleeding, meaning she had to fight for her life. She was awake, but she was looking at anything more than the floor. Her wrists were tied in the back of the chair, so were her ankles.
Spencer looked carefully at her, looking for lethal injuries, and when he didn't find them, he felt relieved. He looked at her face, and his heart hurt at the view, but even at that moment, he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world to him, she always has been, and she will always be.
"Look at the front Y/n," Cat said. She didn't do what she wanted, so Cat walked where she was and grabbed her chin, moving it to the camera. Spencer watched her eyes, empty, without light he always liked and red, she had been crying. Those pretty eyes weren't looking at him. Those eyes he loved so much were lost, and Spencer thought it was his fault. He believed it was his fault. "Say hi to Spencer," Cat demanded. Y/n didn't listen to her. "I said to say hi to Spencer," she slapped her cheek, making Spencer's tears finally drop, and a few of the team as well. But even though Y/n didn't say anything. "So, someone has decided to be a little brat. You like brats, Spencer?" Cat asked.
Cat disappeared from the view just leaving Y/n there. She exhaled and looked at the camera. She moved her head to the left, trying to escape from the camera view. Adams came back with something the team wouldn't recognize. She smiled and lit it, the tip of the strange object lit up like a small candle, and put it in Y/n's arm, inside of her arm. She gasped and sobbed. She was trying to be strong, strong for them. "You decided to be a brat and don't do what I say, so this is your punishment."
When she didn't receive any painful reaction from the young agent, she put the object away, watching the slight burning she left in Y/n's arm. "Now, I think we can negotiate with your little friends, don't you think?" She looked at her, but she didn't respond. "Alright, crime fighters, this is what I want. The little bitch here aka Spencer's girlfriend, or should I say ex? Did you break up with Spencer Y/n? After you saw how he kissed me, did he kiss you in the same way? I bet he didn't." Y/n remained silent. "When I talk to you, you will answer me," Cat slapped Y/n’s cheek. She looked at Cat with anger this time.
"How far did you go with your obsession for him? If I wanted to be with you, we would have, but he didn't, did he? So you had to plan and do all of this so you can have all the attention and recognition you didn't have as a child, isn't it? How pathetic you are." Y/n finally talk.
"You don't talk to me like that." Cat slapped Y/n cheek with so much strength that it made Y/n spit blood. And then she looked at Cat again and chuckled.
"You wanted me to talk."
Cat ignored her words, being annoyed by them. She looked at the camera and smiled. "How I was saying, what I want is to Spencer to come. You can bring your team I don’t care, besides I want to all of them watch the show, but you had to enter the building alone, and you can’t do dirty tricks or anything like trying to get the FBI inside because I had cameras everywhere and if I see someone else trying to be inside I will kill her. All of you can watch everything from outside, that's actually the plan, and then maybe I can give you back your little girlfriend. You have to enter with any guns, with anything. Just you, and maybe without clothes, only if you want," Cat smirked and then began to walk close to the camera. "You know the rules, but the question if you dare to play the game Spencie. I see you soon." She winked and took the camera, and the video stopped.
Everyone stayed silent.
"Oh! She sent an address." Penelope knowledge.
"How did she escape?" JJ asked.
"That's what I like to know. Care to explain, Strauss?" Hotch talked, wapping the few tears in his eyes when he saw Erin Strauss walk to the BAU.
"Don't talk to me like that, Aaron. This is not my fault."
"Then who is? One of our agents is being there torture, and you didn't even have the decency to say that maniac escape from prison?"
"I didn't want to alarm the team. She killed a few cops on her way out, but apparently, she had everything planned for weeks."
"Obviously, she had," Rossi said. "Remember when you bring Aaron down because you said he wasn't doing a good job? What is this, then? Are you doing a good job, Erin?"
"This is not my fault, and you know it. I have the power to fire you both for being so unrespectful," Erin attacked.
"Oh yeah? Please do it. I really don't care, Erin. Fire me if you want, but I promise you that I will end you if something happens to her. I actually would like to know what your superiors would think about Erin Strauss. The section chief let a criminal escape and then don't say anything about it.”
"Guys, thank you, Hotch and Rossi, but I don't think how this can help to rescue her, and my girlfriend is out there being tortured by a psychopath, and I really don't think that fighting will help."
"Reid, it's right, we can discuss this later. Right now, we need to think about how we can act," Erin proposed.
"There's any other way than me going," Spencer said with confidence.
"No! Of course, no, that's the worst plan, Spence. I don't think it would work. She's crazy, remember? She would kill you and-" JJ started.
"JJ, she's my girlfriend, and she's suffering, and it's probably my fault."
"It's not," Hotch said. "We will act, and we will find her, I promise you. Besides, she's really strong."
Spencer nodded. She is strong.
She is strong.
He repeated like a mantra to try to calm his nerves.
She is strong.
. . .
 Y/n could see everything so dark and tried to see where she was. She wasn't where Cat left her first when she recorded that video and probably sent it to her friends. She was worried, and not because of her life but for Spencer’s.
She knew he would appear at any moment with the team's approval or not. He was like that. He would give anything for her, even his life, just to save her, and at any other time, that would be comforting, but at that moment, that wasn't good. Her anxiety was all over her body, she could feel the blood in her mouth after the slap Cat gave her, and she could feel the injuries where Cat burned her, she could feel the tight hold in her hands and ankles, she was worried about the team, she was concerned about Spencer, she was concerned about Diana. And last, she was concerned about her life.
Was her life going to end?
Why wasn't that worried about her life? She was sick and concerned about everyone around her but her. Why wasn't she worried? Did she didn't care if her life ends at that moment?
She was confused, concerned, and full of anxiety. She was hurt. She wanted to get out there and never come back.
Cat interrupted her thoughts when she came in. With a black chair and put it in front of her. Cat looked at her and smiled. "Don't worry. I won't kill you even if I want to. I made a promise with Spencie, and besides, if I kill you right now, the show wouldn't be that fun, don't you think? " She walked and sat in front of Y/n. "You know, I always felt that you and Spencer needed couples therapy, you didn't trust in him, and he didn't communicate with you, and you didn't tell him the truth, but maybe when he comes, we can discuss that," and then she left leaving the young doctor confused.
. . .
 Spencer enters the building. Of course, he did. He wasn't going to leave her girlfriend in the hands of that woman even if she didn't want to see him after what he did. And he knows that if she didn't look at him while he was in there, he wouldn't be mad about it. He deserves it, after all.
He was worried. A man he didn't know was escorting him where he was supposed to be. And he was nervous, of course, he was. Her mom was with Penelope, he didn't tell her what happened because he loved Y/n so much that she would feel bad, and Spencer didn't want that.
The man stopped in front of a black door and then left him there, alone. Spencer felt confused, looking everywhere to see what was happening, but then the door got open, letting him see Cat, and he looked inside of the room trying to find Y/n, but Cat blocked his view. "Don't be rude, Spencer, here you follow my rules, and my first rule is to cover your eyes," Cat smiled while she showed him a black tie. Spencer took it, and he put it in his eyes.
Cat took his arm and guided him where she wanted him to be, in a chair in front of Y/n, who also was covered, she tied his ankles to the chair. The room was empty, only with the three people there and two chairs and a table in Spencer’s left. It was dark and cold. The two doctors were anxious. She knew he was there, she could sense his perfume, and Spencer knew she was there because he could feel her in the same way he always perceives her when she came into a room.
Spencer wanted to see her and Y/n deep down. Her soul wanted to see him as well.
Cat took the tie off Spencer's eyes first, and at that moment, his eyes, for instinct, looked for hers. Those beautiful eyes he was craving for, those who were his strength and debility.
He finds them blind on a black tie like his. But there was her, with her hands free in her lap, but her ankles tied in the chair. Her lip was bleeding, and he could see some minor injuries in her temple, the burning in her arm. There she was.
Cat walked to her and took the tie out of her eyes, they were closed, and then she opened them looking for something that Spencer didn't know what it was, she wasn't looking at him yet, but he was craving for it.
Her eyes were red from the crying and how tired she was. Spencer promised that when they get back home, she will sleep for three days straight to recover. She was so beautiful. She was everything Spencer ever wanted and more, and she was his love. The small light of the room, making her look like an angel. His angel.
Y/n finally looked at him, she was scared of what might happen with him, but she was glad to see him even if she was scared of it, even if she didn't know if she really wanted to, but there he was. Looking straight at her, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him, at that moment, or maybe she has always been, and she never knew.
But his brown hazel eyes were so comforting. That was what she needed to feel strong, to feel free? His lips were highly red, so his eyes, he has been crying, and she could tell. She wonders if she might have something to do it.
She feels baffled, but she sees him, and that was what she needed, even if she says otherwise.
"All right, I guess it is time to begin," Cat starts talking. The surprise was that at that moment, they forgot they weren't alone. "First, don't you think this feels familiar. Don't you get some kind of dejá vú Spencie? This doesn't bring you memories for a certain brown hair girl?" Cat starts passing around the small room.
"I don't know what does that have something to do with all of this," Spencer says, not taking his gaze out of Y/n, but she does. She looks at the floor and his heartaches. She isn't looking at him.
"Oh, Spence, it has all to do with. Did you know that your little girlfriend here felt threatened by her?"
Spencer looks at her, trying to understand or see some kind of emotion in her, trying to find the truth, but she doesn't let him.
"Is that true?" Spencer asks with fear of what the answer might be.
Y/n doesn't respond.
"He's talking to you, sweetheart," Cat says.
"Is not that I felt threatened by her," She says, and Spencer's breathing contains because he is hearing her voice, her sweet voice, "is because I never thought- I felt like I wasn't what she was for him, for you," she looks at him this time, "she was practically your first love, and I came later. Sometimes you have this person in your life, and it is the first time you feel this way. You don't want it to end. And sometimes you feel like you're not good enough even when they say you are, mostly if they loved someone with their entire heart like you did with-with Maeve."
Spencer's face softens by her words. She felt like this, and he never knew.
"But-"Spencer says but is interrupted by Cat.
"Oh no, you are not going to say anything, and all the bullshit we all have heard. I want you to tell her the reason why you kissed me, "she smiles.
"It was because she told me that if I didn't kiss her, she would make your life miserable, and I couldn't stand that. I am so sorry."
"Yeah, but look, I did otherwise. I just have to say that I really loved that kiss. Don't you want to give me another one?" she got closer to him.
"Cat, I don't think-"He says.
"What I told you about rules?" She says and walks to a table and brings a knife with her. "You will listen and do what I say, or bad things will happen," Cat walks to Y/n and puts the knife in her arm.
"Wait! Please don't hurt her. I will do what you want."
She looks at him and smiles, "Good boy."
Cat gets closer to Spencer and sits in his lap. She looks at Y/n first and winks at her, then takes Spencer’s face in her hands and kisses him, but this time Spencer doesn't close his eyes, doesn't even touch her. He is looking at Y/n, trying to apologize with his eyes. She looks the other way while a tear escapes from her eyes.
"Mhm, I bet you enjoy those kisses Y/n. But you need to learn how to share with the class." She gets up and claps her hands together, "Now this night is getting boring. Ugh, I guess it is time to decide whom I will kill," She takes a gun out of her back and points it to Spencer and then to Y/n.
"You said you wouldn't hurt her, "He says.
"I said I wouldn't kill her if you come in, and I didn't. But now you are here. I can do whatever the hell I want, and I want you alive, so the only option is her," She points to her.
"Kill me instead. She doesn't have the fault I didn't end it up with you. It's me who you should be angry with, not her! The only bad thing she ever did was love me."
"I know, Spencer, But I see it in this way. Do you remember all those pretty and lovely letters I wrote you, Y/n? When I said, he didn't love you because he loved Maeve first, and well we all saw how that ended it, but then he found me, and because he couldn't have me, he chose you. You never loved her truly, Spencer, if you think about it. She is just a replacement. And besides, I am mad at you, of course. But I will prefer to see you suffering every day of your life for not choosing me. That is the worst punishment."
“But you should kill me instead, she doesn’t have anything to do with this,”
“I can’t believe you actually prefer to die. But you are right, you have all the fault, because of what you did to me and all the things I did for you and you never accept me. I guess the only way we can fix that is taking something you care about,” she points to Y/n.
Then suddenly they heard a loud noise they couldn't figure out what it was, but Cat was concerned. "What was that? I swear to god it is one of your agents. I will kill you both, "Cat shouts.
"No, it is me. Come look at this Cat, it is urgent," The man said. The man who was with her in all of that, the one who help to bring Y/n. Her brother.
"I will come back soon. You can't escape here, and I will be on the other side of the door. Besides that, we have cameras, so you two will wait until I come back."
Cat leaves, and silence remains in the room.
"Angel, look at me," Spencer says, but she doesn't look at him, "Y/n please," He begs and then she looks at him. "It doesn't matter what she says, or what she is trying to make you believe or what she said to you before, but I do love you so so much. With my entire heart and soul, you are everything and much more to me. I love you so much. And I am so sorry for what you have been through because of me, and I am sorry I didn't realize the way you felt about Maeve. I did love her I am not gonna lie, but what I felt for her wasn't real love, and what I feel for you is much deeper, and you are everything I ever wanted and If someone ever tells me that I can change what happened to her I wouldn't because of what happened I get to know you and love you, and I don't regret anything. You are my universe, and please believe when I say you are everything to me. " Spencer was desperate to let her know what he truly felt.
And then the door got wide open, and it wasn't Cat on the other side or her brother. It was Hotch. Y/n started crying softly when she saw him. There he was. He approached her while Morgan and Prentiss entered the room to help Spencer.
Hotch hugged her, and she cried on his shoulder. "You are okay. Everything is okay now. You will be home soon," he says while he unties her ankles without breaking the hug.
"Thank you, Hotch."
"You don't have to thank me, that's what family is for," Hotch says while he let her free. With tears in his eyes, Prentiss was full of worries that faded away when she saw her and hugged her.
"Oh my god, Y/n, please never do this to us ever again. I was so worried."
"I’m sorry," she chuckles, and Prentiss does the same.
Then Morgan hugged her, crying as well. "We are so glad you are okay. You don't have any idea how worried we were and Penelope, oh my god," He says.
Y/n chuckle and smile. "What happened to Cat and the other man?" She asks.
"We entered the back door, there weren't any cameras, and then we got him before he said anything, we made him call Cat, and we got her as well. They are with the police right now, and you won't see them ever again." She nods.
Spencer looks at her, and Y/n looks at him, but he knew she needed to be checked out for her injuries, so he doesn't say anything yet.
They walked her outside, and JJ and Rossi hugged her, leaving her without air, but happy to see her family again.
. . .
After they checked her and see her injuries, they drive back to Quantico. Spencer was dying inside. He didn't know the next chapter in their life, he didn't want to lose her, but he did understand if she didn't want to be with him.
Everyone greet her, happy to see her again. She couldn’t see Diana because she will be worried about her injuries, Y/n cried with Penelope, but she was happy. Those were happy tears. She was finally in home.
And then she walked outside being called by the sky, looking at the stars. The same ones he was looking at hours before. It was three Am, and he was tired. He walked where she was, looking at the stars and then at her.
"I think we need to talk," he says, playing with his fingers.
"Yeah, I think we do." He looks at her.
"Y/n I want to start saying that I am really sorry. For everything, and I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore, I don't know if we are together right now, you know? You kinda broke up with me," he chuckles, and she does as well. Good sign, Spencer thinks.
"I think we can try, you know? I understand why you did what you did, but it doesn't ease the fact you didn't tell me," Y/n signs. Of course she wanted him back, after all. But she was concerned about their communication skills, not only Spencer’s but hers.
"I know, but I will make it up to you, and I can work that out. Please.” Spencer takes her cold hands into his, giving small kisses to them.
"We need to try the communication, but it can work," Spencer smiles and hugs her.
She hid her face in his neck, and he does the same. He felt like home, he felt like everything was okay, and it was now. She stepped back, but then she hugs him, this time putting her head in his chest.
She looks at the stars, but he's looking at her. She looks at him, smiling. "Why are you not looking at the stars? It is a beautiful night."
He smiles at her, "Because you are the only star I want to look at."
She smiled at him and hid her blushed face from him. He smiles and hugs her tight.
Even though they had an awful night, she still looks at the stars at the end of the day.
At that moment, without them knowing, they made a promise to all the stars in the night sky. At that moment, when they were the only ones in the world.
They enjoy each other warmth, the one they have been craving for, the one that keeps them in their track, with the promise they will try one more time, and maybe a happy ending with love and pride.
Finally everything will be okay, because they were together like the stars in the night sky who were looking at them with pride and love, to always and forever to the end of the world.
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cyphersuna · 3 years
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1. HUMAN DOGS
pairing: isaac lahey x fem!reader!mikaelson (Slow burn), derek hale x ex-lover!reader, mcCall pack x platonic!reader, original family x sister!reader, stiles stilinski x platonic!reader (at the moment)
sypnosis; Y/N Mikaelson arrives in a small town with the hope of becoming independent and having a new life but a near accident will turn her plans around and risk them knowing who he is.
Has the war of Original Vampires and Wolves started?
The smallest of the Mikealsons, will she be with a wolf?
Will Isaac accept Y/N?
warnings; none
author’s note: hello baeess, welcome to a new #saturdayofyouaremikaelson!!! I only hope you enjoy this chapter because your emotion excites me and if your emotion excites me, I will be excited to do more chapters to excite you. see you next week 😺
Word count; 1.7k
゚・ 🌌ރ ੈ♡‧₊˚🎲 *ૢ✧ ۪ ♟️ ° 。
YOU WERE ENTERING Beacon Hills while looking at the forest around you which looked spooky, possibly because it was night or they were infested with those human dogs. Possibly both. You still remember the faces of Niklaus, Kol and Elijah knowing that you would live here. You think it was the best thing in the world, but you get it. That your sister, the youngest of the Mikaelson clan, decides to move alone, with no one from her family nearby and in a "city" full of dogs. You would also worry.
It began to be heard on the radio lurk from the neighborhood to which you began to hum it. This century was very different: 16-year-olds look like 18 or 19, their type of clothing... You did not complain, it is better than the clothes of before.
Six teens and two adults appeared out of nowhere to which you stopped. You got out of the car and they watched you from head to toe. One in particular made your blood run cold. Derek Hale...
You sighed and spoke.
"Forgiveness! Are you okay?" You asked, and the bearded one came up to you.
"What are you doing here?" He asks and you start to breathe. Human dogs have to hear it and feel it so they know that you are not something supernatural. Speaking of that title, it's the best series and more daddy Dean. You pulled myself out of your thoughts and looked from left to right to fix your gaze on the dark haired man.
"Me?" He nodded. "Sorry. Do I know you?"
"Don't act, Mikaelson," he snap at and Peter comes closer to both of you. The Good Peter, he was more your brother than the ones you have, well not so much like that but he was like a brother.
"I think you're wrong" you say to see him in the eyes. "My name is not like that" you say playing stupid, well! When you don't? Coming here you thought that Derek and Peter would leave and more because of what happened to his sister who did not doubt that Peter would kill her. But just in case you knew you would have to change your first and last name.
"It's not a name," says the older of the two raising an eyebrow. "What's your name?" He ask.
"Diane Jones" you say pretending to be a little scared. You saw how Derek would glare at you deadly and the teens stared at the scene in confusion. Wow! The redhead's shoes were fantastic.
"What brings you to Beacon Hills?" Asked Peter.
"I came to live here" you respond.
"Alone?" Said the one with black hair, super furious. He looked sexier like that. "Without your parents?"
"Excuse me, but I don't have to tell you anything" You walked back and Derek took your arm tightly and the children approached looking worried.
"You won't leave until you answer." Peter put his hand on Derek's shoulder with a "calm down" look
"And your parents?" He asks calmly.
"I do not have. I'm an orphan" you say looking at your feet. Seriously, you deserve an Oscar for best actress.
"How did you get here?" Peter still asked.
"My uncles sent me here to study and not cause problems" you say looking at Peter.
"Don't li-" Derek says to be interrupted.
"It's not her" said Peter. "Listen" as you said, breathing helps and more if it is accelerated when you feel threatened.
"Can I go?" You asked.
"Yes" Peter says. You walked to your car and your turned it on to continue on your way, when you saw that you were far away you start to laugh. Derek's faces and the wolf children, the banshee, and the humans were gold.
You arrived at your new home. You smiled when you saw that it was normal, not big and not too small. A normal house. It was supposed to be furnished since yesterday. You got out of your car and opened to see the living room, you closed the door and walked into the kitchen and up the stairs. You went into all the rooms and they were perfect and yours was much more.
It was big, being a Mikaelson it couldn't be small. You were already beginning to miss them. Well not all. Elijah and Rebekah's overproduction were suffocating. Also you will no longer be listening "little Klaus" or "little Kol" You're not like them, you just like to have fun. And you like being with them more. Kol and you, hunted and had fun at parties and flirting with people. Klaus gave you life lessons. You were amused by his stories and how could he be so... him. Of your seven siblings, you only loved Kol and Klaus, of course you had your differences: you were friends with Katherine and Klaus hates her, you love the Salvatore brothers with your life and they detest them, even more. You lay down on the bed and you smiled a smile that only bring problems.
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Isaac Lahey Pov
"It was her," Derek says, somehow I felt concern and more to see how he reacted when he saw the girl as our age.
"Who is she?" Scott ask.
"Y/N Mikaelson" Peter said calmly.
"And she is...?" Stiles question them.
"She is one of the Originals and Derek's great love," Peter replies.
"Original of what?" Lydia ask.
"From the Original Vampires," Derek says angrily.
"They exist?" Almost all of us say at the same time.
"Yes. And between them the two hybrid of Vampire and werewolf" explains Peter.
"What is a hybrid?" Allison ask to which Stiles responds.
"Hybrids are a supernatural cross between two or more different species. The term is commonly used to describe a werewolf turned vampire, as they were the first type of hybrid introduced to the world. However, since the creation of the werewolf-vampire hybrids, there have been other hybrids of other races in the universe, such as siphons turned into witch-vampire hybrids, werewolf-witch hybrids, among others" he says to finish.
"How do you know that?" Asks Scott.
"I read it when I was trying to find out what you were, but I thought the vampire thing was a lie," Stiles responds.
"A hybrid is more lethal than any werewolf or vampire" Says Derek. "Nature does not tolerate such an imbalance of power. Thus, the warlocks, the servants of nature, saw to it that the wolfish side of Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson are asleep. But they are still a danger.
"Who are the Mikaelsons?" I ask.
"The Mikaelson family is a powerful family whose line goes back at least to the Kingdom of Norway in the late 10th century with Mikael and Esther, a wealthy landowner and a Viking warrior, and a housewife and a witch, respectively. In the early 11th century, the family was deadly until the loss of Esther and Mikael's seventh child, Henrik to a werewolf attack that spurred them to use Esther's magic to turn Mikael and the rest of their living children into the The world's first vampires, from whom all Vampires are descended from the original vampires, are known as the most powerful supernatural beings in the world, but the Mikaelson family is also known to have members who are also witches and hybrids. Among them are two hybrids: Klaus and Y/N. In total the Mikaelsons are eight; Mikael, the father, Esther, the mother, Freya, The first daughter which is only a witch and does not belong to the original lineage, Finn, The second son, Elijah, the third son, Klaus, the fourth son which is the hybrid and is not the son of Mikael but bears his last name, Kol, the fifth son, Rebekah, the sixth daughter, Y/N, the seventh daughter which is not the daughter of Mikael and the last, Henrik, the eighth son. Of these eight only are alive: Freya, Elijah, Klaus, Kol, Rebekah and Y/N" Derek answers.
''They wasted no time," Stiles says.
"Neither is Esther. Children of different parents" I say smiling. "But how did "first hybrids" happen?
"When Klaus and Y/N first killed after being turned into vampires, they triggered their werewolf gene, which finally reveals the truth of their true paternity to their family: Klaus and Y/N were not Mikael's children but the boss's children of her village werewolf clan, with whom Esther had an affair. Once Mikael learned of Esther's infidelity and realized that her lover's pack were the werewolves who killed Henrik, Mikael hunted down and killed Klaus and Y/N's father and his entire family, igniting a war. Between vampires and werewolves that still exists. Shortly after the Mikaelsons became vampires and learned of Klaus and Y/N werewolves' legacy, Esther was forced to curse Klaus and Y/N to make their werewolf natures lie dormant, so that they didn't bother yet. More to nature by possessing so much power. However, Klaus and Y/N felt betrayed by this punishment, and in retaliation, Klaus murdered his mother and framed Mikael for the act. Understood?" Peter asks and I nod.
"I'm more than sure it's her!" Derek exclaims.
"It has to be her, if you questioned her or just stopped...-Lydia says to be interrupted by Peter.
"It's her Doppelgänger..."
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Y/N Mikaelson Pov
You got out of the tub while you were dripping to grab the towel and start drying off. Tomorrow would be your first day in high school, you had never attended one and according to Caroline and Stefan they are very good, also Rebekah go into one and she looks older than you. You wrapped the towel around your body and left the bathroom to go to your room. You dropped the towel while you felt the air all over your body, you took off your underwear from the wardrobe and then put on a loose shirt and some pajama shorts. You go down to the kitchen for some whiskey and you go back upstairs. You arranged your things for tomorrow and left them arranged so that you only had to go...
masterlist
˚༉🎠·₊✧ 🧺 ϟ₊˚🎻ミ༉‧🍫₊˚
previously in you are a mikaelson > next
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@blessednereid @itmejado @rottenstyx @chloe-skywalker
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The Bets
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。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆      。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
GIF isn’t mine
Pairing: Elle Greenaway x Fem! Reader, Jemily
Summary: A little session of betting stupid shit with Morgan, Garcia and Dr. Reid gone wrong. or in which Elle and Y/N join the Mile High Club
Warnings: 18+ Mile High Club. (Which means light smut okay?) Brief Classic CM violence. Jemily cuteness and soft Elle.
Word Count: 2,016 words
Anyone ever wondered what it’d be like if Agent Greenaway worked with Agent Prentiss? I don’t think we were ready for the amount of POWER these two would have if they did work together. The amount of death glares and sass towards assholes and misogynistic men-
also, the lack of Elle fanfics is now considered a crime-
 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆      。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
It all started when you walked into the bullpen, bee lining to your desk, setting down your stuff and immediately hearing Morgan’s chuckles and Garcia’s giggling while they huddled around Reid’s desk.
“Ohhhkay? What is going on? I understand that like, there’s no case yet today but it’s waaaay too early for you guys to be giggling.” You furrowed your brows at them
“Nothing is going on cutie pie. You just made me win a bet. “ Garcia looked smug while Morgan just glared playfully
“How was I supposed to know that they didn’t have fun last night, much less leave a hickey?” He says, referring to you and Elle
Being the only couple who’s been formally approved by Hotch, Strauss and the HR, the both of you were proud of your relationship. Elle often comes in after you because you make her fetch your coffee in the morning, and you often disappear during lunch because you were off on a food run for her.
And don’t even get me started on her glaring at men who had the audacity to flirt with you, then smirking when you turn them down with an emotionless look on your face. She was yours and you were hers, and you both weren’t afraid to announce that.
“Oh we did. Just not last night. It was this morning.” you nonchalantly says, shrugging your shoulders
“Did you know that morning sex is better than evening sex?  Men can experience a daily 25-50% differential in testosterone in the morning, translating to a huge appetite for early sex. For women, however, significant changes in testosterone don’t happen daily, but monthly, with the largest increase happening mid-month during ovulation and that increase is not nearly as dramatic as what men experience...” Reid rants, making you all stare at him, not moving so as to not interrupt him.
“Thank you Reid for that interesting fact, where did you even learn that?” you ask him, you were truly curious as to where the doctor reads his facts when it was apparent that he hated the internet.
“Encyclopedia.” he states, a little giddy from just sharing what he knows.
“Psst. Lovergirl. Here comes your own personal devil.” Derek wiggled his brows, pointing with his eyes to the door, knowing that it’s Elle you just smirked and laughed.
“One, Lovergirl? Really? You couldn’t think of better nicknames?” You started, turning around to get your coffee from Elle, kissing her cheek
“Derek called you the devil.” You whispered to her
“What?” Elle playfully shoves Morgan
“Hey! No snitching!” He whined
Elle just gave him a pointed look before turning around, her desk just in front of Reid’s. She sits down before stealing your coffee. Your lips barely open to complain, but closed immediately when she gave you that same look she gave you earlier today when she was sipping...something else. With wide eyes and tomato red cheeks, you mumbled incoherent words before just walking away, embarrassed. You even forgot that she stole your café made coffee, all you could think of is Elle’s lips on yours, slowly kissing down-
Your cheeks reddened even more when you heard Morgan guffaw. Pouting slightly, you directed your attention to the stack of paperwork piled on your desk. You sorted them out first before actually doing it. A few minutes pass by and you feel a presence behind you, then they block your light, indicating they were tall and buff...
“What do you want Morgan?” You sighed out, closing a case file, moving into another one. Wanting to just finish and come home with your girlfriend and just cuddle.
“Bet you can’t make Elle blush like she did you.” He proudly stated
You looked at him with a ‘I’m so done with you’ face, you could see that he was serious and you just sighed, you might as well entertain yourself.
“You wanna put money on that?” Famous last words.
Morgan put 50 bucks on the line and you just couldn’t resist, you went on with your day as usual, frowning when you sift through tons of paperwork, dragging your feet just to get coffee from that damn awful coffee machine and finally, asking for Hotch’s permission to go out and get lunch which he approved, getting your keys, kissing Elle’s cheek, rushed out and went to that one food chain that both you and your girlfriend loved.
Girlfriend. Such a common word, but you and Elle made it special. All the emotions and feelings compiled in a 10 letter word, all the pain, tears, blood (you got shot protecting her and she slapped you when you woke up just because of that. But that’s also where she first kissed you, so no complaints really), pining, and happiness you guys went through just to get to this point.
Arriving at the BAU office, you hurried up, shifting your weight from one leg to the other as you watch the numbers go up anxiously, the line stretched on and on, making you at least 5 minutes late. Elle gets cranky when she’s hungry, and for your sake and the rest of the team, you hurried your ass up.
When the elevator finally arrived at your floor, you rush to Elle’s desk, who’s now glaring at the computer screen.
“Bubba~ I’m so sorry. Here, I’ll make it up to you” You set down the paper bags on her desk, you made sure to get extra just to make it up to her.
As you set down the paper bags, you discreetly leaned down, placing your lips right beside her ear and nibbled on it a bit, your hair providing the necessary curtain of privacy you needed. You quietly moaned as you briefly whispered a few profanities into her ear before straightening yourself up. Smirking at how red Elle’s ears and cheek are, you looked over to Morgan who was now staring, dumbfounded.
You smiled smugly at him, lifting your hand up and motioning for him to give you his --well, your money. He frowned before slapping the crisp 50 dollar bill on your hands, huffing in annoyance.
“You betted on me?” she gave you that ‘no non-sense bitch face’ thing, and your blood ran cold. You could remember what happened the last time she gave you that look. You weren’t able to sit on a chair properly for weeks.
“Oh- Uhm. Erm. You just eat your food yeah? I have paperwork to finish.” You turned to get away from her, but she tugged your shirt from behind.
She puts her palm out and looks at you expectantly. You pout at her with your pleading eyes but she just raised her eyebrow at you. You groaned and went to give it to her, only to be interrupted by JJ.
“We’ve got a case?” You ask her, discreetly slipping the bill in your back pocket.
“But there’s only 45 minutes, 15 seconds and 3 milliseconds left.” Reid whines
“Sorry Guys. Hotch says we’ll debrief on the jet.” She says, walking off holding the files while Emily lifted both their go-bags to her shoulders, following JJ, making you roll your eyes at their obviousness.
You looked at Elle and she stared back at you, smirking and nodding at each other before hurrying to gather your stuff.
Once everyone settled in, Garcia popped onto the computer screen and she explained the details of your case. There were multiple strings of suicides following a major highway, but there were a couple items missing. Jewelry, electronics etc. You concluded that it’s most likely an organized unsub, who steals and framing the victims as suicide, but in multiple ways. 3 women were hanged, four were shot in the head, 3 shot in the stomach and 7 stabbed, yet there weren’t any blood trails around.
After the debriefing, the team settled down, deciding to take a nap during flight. Reid was curled up in the couch, his book in his hand that’s draping down to the floor, Hotch with his head on the table and Rossi with his head leaning on the window, Lastly, Morgan who was reclining his seat, slept with his earphones on. JJ and Emily are nowhere to be seen so you just assumed that they were cuddling somewhere.
No words were spoken. Both you and Elle just basking in each others presence. Occasionally sharing opinions on what you think of the unsub, and then she just stared at you with a look in her eyes.
“Elle? Bubs?” You ask her, you always were the one for nicknames, you made one up as soon as you met her, and how it slowly changed from scary girl, to pretty girl and now to Bubs and Bubba. It really amazes her.
“Come with me.” She whispered, dragging you to the plane lavatory.  
She locks the door and stares at you. You gulp as the two of you were pressed against each-other in a tight space. She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you in a passionate kiss, like she was afraid you would suddenly vanish. Sadly, both of you need air, pulling away for just a second before your lips attach to her neck, being careful not to leave marks, You really don’t think Hotch would like the thought of the two of you doing each-other in such a public place with him in a 20 mile radius.
After a few moments filled to the brim with muffled and silent moans, euphoria, smirks, punishments and hair-pulling later, the both of you fixed yourself. When you both looked appropriate enough, Elle opens the door to a JJ who’s also opening the door to the other lavatory right across yours, with a panting Emily sitting on the toilet.
You peeked over Elle’s shoulder and seeing the scene in front of you. Safe to say you were shocked. Really shocked.
“Emily’s a bottom?!” You whisper-shouted in disbelief, making both of them blush and your girlfriend chuckle.
“Guess who owes me a hundred bucks?” She smirks at you
“Noooo. Ellie. Please, I bring you lunch everyday!.” You pleaded as you follow her to where you were previously sitting.
“Uh-huh, No backing out on bets remember?” She pulls you to her side, hugging you from her seat. She rarely shows affection in public like this so you usually ingrain it in your memories, take notes or just plainly cherish it, living in the moment.
“But a hundred?”
“You won fifty from Morgan earlier and I want it back.”
“But I won that fair and square”
“You used me to gain that money Bubs, I don’t like that.” You grumbled but gave her a hundred bucks anyways, smiling slightly when you remember that she’s the one who buys the coffee for the both of you anyways.
“Hey, uhm-”
“Everyone knows.” You and Elle simultaneously replied when JJ and Emily sat in front of you
“Honestly, did the both of you think that we wouldn’t find out? We’re profilers for heaven’s sake!” You deadpanned, playfully glaring at them
“I think we did a pretty good job at hiding actually.” Emily scoffed
You glanced at Elle, barely containing your laughs before returning your sights to the couple in front of you, 
“Em can you help me with something?” “Jayje? Can you come over? Sergio needs a babysitter” “Em can you pick Henry up? Michael needs a haircut” “I played a lot of scrabble with some girl named ‘CheetoBreath’” You mimicked the both of them, pretending to be talking to someone on the phone.
“Okay! Okay! Stop. Stop-” Emily playfully glares as she and JJ both have red cheeks.
You and Elle continued teasing the couple for a few more minutes before moving from topic to topic, ranging from double dates to near death encounters that scared the shit out of your girlfriends.
It’s moments like this that make your gruesome job bearable, the teasing, the laughter, the feeling of family. You could never imagine yourself working with other teams at all. And that, in your opinion, is what makes the BAU indestructible, no matter what the consequences may be. 
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whump-town · 3 years
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You Worry Me
Pairings: Emily & Hotch
Summary: college au things, Hotch checking himself into a mental hospital for the weekend
Warnings: child abuse, mental health struggles, abuse, suicide attempt, drugs, alcohol
When Emily asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with her she had expected far more hesitation than what she was met with. It’s not that she doesn't have other people to ask but when she really has to think about it he’s the only person she wants around like that. She’s content with his silence and his strange but enrapturing bouts of… oddness. She’s already thrown up in front of him (bad stomach flu she refused to admit was as bad as it was) and stood guard so he could pee behind a dumpster when they’d walked to the store at midnight for cigarettes and energy drinks.
She finds the courage to ask him on the front lawn of campus, stretched out on their backs ignoring their work and just photosynthesizing. Closing their eyes in silent enjoyment as spring tries to peek through winter's tight grip. When she turns to look at him the words just come tumbling out and she waits for his reaction. She’s not sure why she’s expecting anything other than that predictable crooked smirk but it still shocks her. He turns his head, lifting his arm to shield his eyes as he does so. Mostly, he just wants to know where he came in the line-up. How many people told her no before she came to him?
The honest answer is none but she smirks and tells him four and he laughs that deep goofy laugh that he does and she doesn’t know why she was nervous he’d say no. With a tired sigh, he nods and that’s all it takes-- they’re sharing an apartment.
He carries her clothes up to their floor, leaves her the pillows and her comforter for her to drag up. He’s exhausted by the time he’s got her things sitting on her bedroom floor but goes down to the beaten old pick-up truck his mother let him borrow to get his own things. Informs her with one of those long crooked fingers to worry with her own things and leave him to get his own. She resigns herself to listening but only because she’d seen his load and knew her help wouldn’t really quicken the whole six, small, boxes he has.
On his third trip she’s had enough and with a dramatic sigh she shakes her head and stands right in the doorway to his room. “No,” she says, crossing her arms. “No, I refuse to believe this. There’s no way you’ve read all these books.” She’s watched him carry three boxes of books into this apartment and not just boxes with things like thrown in he’s got them stacked to take up as little room as possible in these boxes. They’re heavy, he’s sweating and they keep coming.
With a sigh he leans down and sets the box currently in his arms down on the floor. “I read,” is his very complex answer. Aaron Hotchner has a way with words and she’s come to know that well. He shrugs, pushing at the hair slicked with sweat against his scalp. “I have read them… all of them.” Most of them more than once.
Books are the only thing he’s ever had. When he’d packed up for college all of the room had been taken up by these books. His clothes fit into one box but the books, he made room for the books. Every year, for as long as he can remember, his mother would buy him a book for his birthday. He got a job in town to have money to buy books to try and stifle his insatiable hunger (and his up-and-coming smoking habit).
She looks down at the box he’s just placed down, sighing when she sees that atop a pair of jeans there’s another book. Sherlock Holmes, she recognizes easily, and she shakes her head. “You know,” she steps out of his way and he heaves the box back up with a grunt. “My mother asked if I thought you’d kill me.” He falters mid-step but doesn’t stop. Carries the box to the others and sits it down heavily. He turns and finds her watching him with that quizzical, intuitive frown of hers. “You’re big but I think I could take you.”
He huffs at that, shaking his head and sliding past her so he can get his other boxes. She has no worries about him hurting her and strangely she hadn’t even considered that he might hurt her until her mother had mentioned it. Besides, she knows just enough to never truly worry. He’s the boy who vomits when he gets angry - if he shouts he’ll end up curled around the toilet shaking with a fever. He’d never hit a soul and if he did, she can only imagine the penance his body would conjure up as punishment.
But he huffs and she hears it.
She jumps on his back as he’s setting his box down on the ground. He moves just a little, stumbling under their combined weight. “Emily,” he warns, doing his best to not react. He knows how she is. She wants him to get rough, to hook his arm under her leg and yank her around. If he acts unbothered she’ll leave him alone. She’s far too much like having a little sibling around again - a sobering and, yet, comforting notion.
She does get bored and quickly. “I’m gonna go see Eric,” she informs him, slipping down off his back. He grunts and it’s just the wrong sound and she falters for a moment. Aaron’s met Eric and she’d thought they got along well but… she’s started to second guess that a little more every time she mentions either to the other. “I’ll be back this afternoon,” she adds apprehensively. Catches on to move the conversation on and away from the subject of her boyfriend but she still finds herself hovering by his doorway. Chewing her lip and anxiously asking, “do you mind if I bring Eric Wednesday?”
He just looks down at the box he’s sorting through, back turned to her. He shakes his head, sighing, “I don’t care what you do Emily.” He does care, deeply, but he looks back at her for only a brief moment. Sad brown eyes begging with her to not push, to not make him talk about this more.
With a nod, the conversation is over.
Wednesday night he smokes the pot that Derek passes to him without a second thought. It’s been burned down to the last few puffs, the heat from the lit end burns his fingers tips but he still puts it to his lips. Pulls from what little remains of the blunt as if it’s oxygen itself, a mask over his face meant to level him out. Maybe it will. The heat sinks down into his lungs and he ends up doubled over, spit drooling over his lips. Laughter bubbles up around him and a hand rubs at his back, Emily, he knows but only by the way that her perfume stings his nose he tries to breathe through the assault.
“Give it here before it burns out--”
Emily takes the blunt from his fingers and passes it to Eric. He’s an asshole and they all hate him but they love Emily and if they want her around then they have to deal with him. It’s safer to have him here, where they can watch him. He won’t dare hurt her in front of them -- but is that not what he’s doing when he leaves bruises across her face like constellations? Sends her back to them so that they can dab makeup over the Milky Way and breathe reassurances over Orian’s Belt when she falls into a hug.
Emily pulls him back upright, guides his head to lilt to the side as he sags against her. He can feel Eric’s fingers near his collar, the possessive hand he keeps on Emily at all times. A silent reminder of the power he holds over them all. Emily kisses his temple, oblivious to the mental war happening on both sides of her.
Derek reaches over and smacks his thigh, and encouraging little maneuver he means to comfort Aaron with. Aaron has checked out, arms too heavy to push away from all the touching. Can’t worm out of Emily’s arms or Derek’s comforting hand on his leg. He feels nothing past the tip of his nose. Not Emily’s bones underneath his cheek, her body carved down by Eric’s harmful comments about her weight and the coke he supplies like it’s a love language. Not Derek’s hold on him, the fear he can’t express but feels deep within his churning stomach, that Aaron’s slipping away and they’re all just bystanders to his eventual suicide.
Thursday night he’s woken up by Emily sneaking into his room, the soft click of a glass of water being sat down on his nightstand and the clatter of pills finding their way beside it. She presses her fist into his sternum, applying pressure where he feels like he’s coming unraveled. It’s like her hands are grasping his strayed ends, holding him together like a shredded kite until she can pull the fabric halves back together. “Okay,” she breathes, failing to provide him with steeled calm. His heart is beating so hard against her hand she’s afraid to let go. Her understanding of medicine is narrowed to just knowing you’re not supposed to put a bandaid on a burn. Kids can still have heart attacks, maybe not the over-worked, a little heavy-set dad kind caused by blocked arteries but he’s got the stress level and something certainly isn’t right.
He wakes up alone, doesn’t remember when she left or if she came at all. His only clue is those pills sitting in the perspiration of the now lukewarm water on his nightstand. He can’t move just yet, force his hand out to obtain the pills but he’ll wake up again in a pain-filled haze moved only by such intense pain that he fears sitting still another moment will rip him in half. The pills are slimy as they sit on his tongue and leave their bitter medicine laced into the gulp of water he manages. He’ll turn back over onto his side, pull his knees to his chest, and hope he doesn’t throw them back up.
He writes an essay in the haze of the Rizatriptan six hours later. His brain is only half-working, thoughts jumbled together or not there at all. The migraine lingers, fingers made of cotton muffling the world in a spirling nothing. It’s a similar feeling to being high, the haze is just too much but he has to write this paper because his professor won’t give him another extension -- he would if he knew Aaron needed one but he’s already asked once so he won’t do it again.
Friday the panic sets in.
Everyone is watching him.
Nobody likes him.
Why is he here?
Starfished out on a picnic blanket, Emily is spending her Friday out of the apartment. Armed with a water bottle filled with Vodka, a quilt, and a cooler full of popsicles they stumble their way through the unplowed field behind campus. Spencer hates the bugs and he holds tightly to Emily’s belt, making sure to step where she does as they trample through the too-high grass. Like broken dolls, they fall onto the quilt, familiar with one another enough not to care how they land in the tangle of limbs.
“Emily?”
She hums, not opening her eyes. The sun will remain stubbornly risen for a few more minutes and until it sets she’s trying to soak in every second of its warmth. Until it falls behind the trees and they’re bathed in the moonlight.
“Do you want a drink?”
She opens her hand, holding it up in the general direction of Derek’s voice. The water bottle finds her palm, slightly warm from sitting in the sun and in their laps as it makes its rounds. It feels oddly light but she doesn’t comment. The vodka stings down her throat but it’s familiar and it’s nearly as warm as the sun itself falling down her body.
“Where’s Hotch?”
She passes it to Penelope before laying back down, closing her eyes. “His psychiatrist put him on -” suddenly she can’t remember what it’s called. “Clom-something --”
Spencer looks up, understands this is a place for him to jump in. He feels overwhelmed with his excitement as he helpfully adds, “clomipramine! It’s a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, SSRI is the short-hand. It increases levels of serotonin in the brain.” He shifts himself, turning closer to them and away from where he’d been watching the blanket's edge for potential bugs trying to crawl near him. “It has the same side-effects as most SSRIs: drowsiness, intestinal upsets, decreased libido, changes in appetite--”
“Woah!” Derek sits up, suddenly paying attention. His eyebrows are scrunched together, alarmed. “He can’t… He won’t be able to like get it up?” He looks at Spencer and then at Emily. “That’s what libido means, man. How’s not being able to have sex going to help him not get all… gummed in the gears? Stuck in his head?” Aaron’s having a hard enough time, it hardly feels like ruining his sex life is the solution to that.
Spencer shakes his head, trying to understand how they’ve moved from facts about antidepressants to Hotch’s sex drive. “What?” If he took a second to think about it, he’d be blushing too hard to even bother with that statement. “No, the brain--”
“Spence,” Emily warns softly. Hotch might not be here to stop them from talking about his sex life but she is and she doesn’t want to talk about it. Besides, it’s none of their business. They’ve seen how bad things can get. “Hotch is basically a nun,” she reminds them. And it’s true. Before anyone diagnosed him, before he even knew something was wrong he wasn’t nearly as adventurous as her or Derek. “He didn’t come today because despite the--” she motions at Spencer.
“The clomipramine,” he supplies.
“Yes, the that, it doesn't work. He has a new psychiatrist, though, and he wants to run through some old stuff again.” She shakes her head, “a stronger dosage and a better plan. I don’t know, I guess we’ll know in another month. He’ll either end up in the hospital again or he’ll be fine.” She shrugs, “right now he’s locked himself in his room.”
There’s a low murmur of understanding and Spencer’s eyes go back to the edge of the blanket. They all remember what happened the last time he had to change medications. Emily had called JJ, the dead of the night making their intensely private and scary conversation seeping with the darkness’s own mixed intensities. Aaron had taken some bad drugs from a guy he didn’t even know, stumbled home, and passed out in his and Emily’s apartment bathroom. Where she found him seizing, choking on his vomit.
They didn’t and couldn’t see him for seventy-two hours, the mandatory hold from the hospital because they ruled it an attempted suicide and Aaron didn’t even try to put up a fight and say it was something else.
Friday night when she stumbles home he isn’t there.
His room is empty -- bedsheets are thrown back as if he left in a rush and his desk lamp still on. She feels that fear sink back into her, throat tight and mind racing, but the bathroom door is open, his pills still meticulously organized in the cabinet over the sink. Even his toothbrush is in the dish. So wherever he is, he won’t be gone long. She stills warns the others, asks them to look out for him or to, at the very least, expect his imminent arrival.
Derek offers to drive around and look for him.
Emily lets him do it, give him something to do -- he would have done it even if she told him it was unnecessary. She’s fairly certain she knows where he is.
Sure enough, she gets the call Monday morning at 7:30.
He does this every once in a while. As often as he can without them enforcing a longer hold, without it going on some sort of record that might prohibit getting a job. She doesn’t really understand why. He hates the mental hospital. Complains that it’s freezing cold and he hates the entire function and yet, here she is spending her Monday morning picking him up. This makes only about the fourth time since she’s known him but how many times has he just made the decision to walk? How many times hasn’t he called her to pick him up?
“You have got to stop walking here.” She rolls the window down first, shouting out at him as she pulls to a stop. He looks better than he had Friday morning when she invited him out to the field with the rest of them. She’d barely managed to get him to sit up, feeding pills between his pale lips, and then pulling his blanket back up over his shoulders. Shutting the blinds and leaving him a glass of water. Maybe she should have just offered to take him then, she’d known with hindsight this is where he would be.
He opens the backdoor without saying a word, crawls into the backseat, and curls up across the seats. He’s wearing a sweatshirt they must have given him, shoes not even on just held by the tips of his curled fingers. They land with a thud on the floor and all the response she gets is a pair of grippy socks landing on her passenger seat, the wordless thanks for picking him up… again.
“Class or home?” she asks, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Class.”
She did bring his bookbag with her, it’s sitting on the floor beside her own, but she will not be taking him to class. He recognizes that when she pulls out of the exit when she turns left instead of right. He grunts but doesn’t say anything, opting to curl further into himself. Protecting his head from an unseen threat.
The rest is practice. He’s foggy from the medicine they give him, always something different from what he’s taken. It’s meant to bring him down, strengthen his haze, and keep him calm. To shut his mind up -- and it’s good, it really does work. It just makes him so exhausted.
“Get your big butt--” Emily has to help him get into his bed and just as he’s about to apologize -- mouth hung open and his eyes squinting as he tries to force sluggish thoughts through a brain that hasn’t worked in days -- she climbs up after him.
His head hits the pillow and his mind goes blank, can’t even form the “I’m sorry” trying to trip its way out of his mouth.
Within seconds she’s laying down beside him, wiggling down under the covers and pulling them up over them. “Derek was pretty pissed you left again without telling us,” she whispers. It takes her a moment but she leans back up and pulls the blinds down, shuts the light from outside from coming in. Then she’s right back beside him, head on his chest. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Aaron. It’s-- It’s--” cruel.
Breathlessly he whispers, “sorry.” It’s all he can manage, drugs still heavy in his bloodstream and eyes forced shut, to move his hand to her back. To try and convey more than what he’s capable of with words that he didn’t mean to scare her. He just scared himself.
She turns her face into his sweatshirt and lets out a little sob, holding onto him. “I think I’m going to break up with Eric.” She’d come up with a thousand reasons Aaron would have disappeared, even as logic dictated where she knew he was. Her fear covered everything until she was sat wondering if she was making things worse for Aaron. His anxiety and migraines and everything else. Was she adding to his stresses or helping?
Coming home and having to ask him to relive parts of his childhood for her… Having him dab foundation over her bruises with his tremoring hands knowing he was thinking about his mother. That he was thinking about doing this exact exercise on himself, covering bruises his father left across his own face. Dabbing blood away and whispering empty, useless promises.
“Okay,” he whispers.
His mother had offered him that same lie a thousand times. She’d drawn lines in the sand and washed them away the next morning with the reconstruction of a wave -- thin cold fingers touching a bruise and asking what happened. As if she hadn’t watched. As if she hadn’t picked him up off the floor and hidden him away in his room, draping her body over his.
“I mean it,” she whispers, her tone mixed with conviction she doesn’t have.
“I know.” He’ll pretend to not remember this conversation when she goes bar crawling with Eric Thursday night. He’ll avoid the other’s eyes when they look at him for some sort of explanation, why she’s taken by her promise this time. But for now, he’s tired and he’s warm and he feels safe. He’ll call Spencer and Penelope later and apologize for blowing off the plans they had to watch Doctor Who, act like they all don’t know where he’s been.
“I love you.”
He squeezes her hips, gives in to his exhaustion. “I love you too.”
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heyheyloki · 4 years
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Loving Is (Not) Easy [1]
Summary: Sometimes the best thing you can do is take it head on and wait.
Spencer Reid x M!Reader
Word Count: 4876
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1. Sometimes, you need to wait.
The first time you met Doctor Spencer Reid was one that you wished happened under different circumstances. Although, if it did happen different, you highly doubt things would turn out like the way they have. You probably would never be living with him, never be able to be your true self, and never have found the man you want to love for the rest of your life. But, with any love story there will be always things in the way. Your enemy just happened to be time.
Around six months ago was the first time you saw him. He was literally your light in the darkness. He had saved you from a hell you couldn't escape for fifteen years. Over and over again you would wake up in that small room and the devil and his partner would strip you of yourself. They took everything they could from you, yet he was the one to give it all back.
It was around winter, the seasons turning as the green grass began to be dominated by the white fluffy snow. You were never really able to see it though. They wouldn't let you. The only time you got to see the outside was when they would remove the nails from the sheets that blacked-out the window from your eyes. You suppose you could always just try to tear the fabric down, but they would never let you back up in your room without your hands damaged. Too damaged to even touch anything. It stung.
You always believed that your life was supposed to be this way. That you would eventually die before you could even figure out how long you’ve been in this place. Before you could even know how old you actually were. Birthdays, time, those things were long in the first three years up here. After that, everything was such a blur that you barely tried to pay attention to it anymore. You believed in so many things, positive things, and yet as the time went on negative thoughts crawled inside your mind. You would never be able to experience love, or even get a job and normal social life. Something you have been deprived up ever since you came out to them about something personal. Something they thought was filthy and disgusting.
You thought for such a long while that it was your fault, and you still did to this day. Maybe if you had read the signs more you would have noticed. But what young boy notices that stuff? What young boy would think their parents are capable of such acts because of their sexuality?
You never tried to scream. Your mother always told you that if you scream then you’ll get punished. You never tried to learn what that punishment would be. Although, one day the pain was just too unbearable that you let out noise. Your parents didn't like it much. But how can you not scream as they cut open your skin? 
Even with the punishment. Even with the beatings. You think the only thing that saved your life was your scream. You only thank those who heard it, the neighbors. They were the ones who brought him to you. And you thank them every day of your life for it.
It was normal day at the BAU section of the FBI in Quantico, Virginia. The team there had received a case from the police in Denver, Colorado about a possible abusive household. Normally, things like this would be handled by the police only. Although, this case was proving to be more and more gruesome than they ever thought possible.
The team had collected in the conference room, the board lit up with two pictures. One of a man and the other a woman. They looked to be completely normal, normal people anyone would pass at any time of the day.
"Nicolás and Vanessa Perez are a married couple in the Denver area of Colorado." A woman known as JJ stated. She had short blond hair and fair skin. Each of those at the table had a conflicted look on their faces, especially since she didn't show any pictures of them as bloody corpses.
"What's so special about them?" Agent Aaron Hotchner, leader of the team asked.
"Well, they aren't dead for one. Although, neighbors have heard screams coming from the house." She said, her thumb clicking on a button on the remote she carried. A small window of video popped up and immediately began to play. It was focused on the ground, a sidewalk. Even so with not being able to see anyone, the bloodcurdling screams of a male was present in all of their ears. Screams that called out in the darkness when monsters are visible. Screams that should never be made possible. But, it was. Those types of voices were signs of clear distress and pain rather than fear. And everyone in the room knew that.
Once it ended, a couple of people let out a deep sigh. Their hearts speeding up for just one moment before putting back up the shield that helped them do this job.
"Do we know who that was?" Doctor Spencer Reid, the youngest of the agents asked.
"No one had any idea up until a few days ago when a neighbor took this picture." JJ said as she put up a somewhat blurred image of a young individual looking out the window of what looked to be an upstairs room or attic.
"We have any idea who the kid is?" Derek Morgan asked.
"No one can get an ID on him." JJ informed the team. Although, just as she believed they would hurry to Denver, Colorado, Hotchner asked, "I understand the severity of the situation but why did the police need us on this case?"
"Well," JJ muttered. Her thumb clicking a button once more as ten pictures of young woman popped up on screen. The youngest at eighteen while the oldest ranging up to her thirties. "All these woman have been going missing in the area where the screaming can be heard. Police there believe it is this couple kidnapping these young woman, but they have no proof."
"Wait, but the one in the picture there is obviously a young man." Emily Prentiss stared clearly for everyone to hear.
"Yeah, that does seem to be the case." Spencer Reid agreed, his hazel hues keeping on the blurred picture of the young man.
"Either way, I don't like the odds that boy has." Hotchner said, picking up himself and the items he owned from the circular table as he and his team moved out. The screams they all heard from that video echoing non-stop in their minds.
2. Don’t Make A Sound
 When they all reached the police station cops were running back and forth as commotion ensued the place. They looked around at the panic before picking up the pace to the one who calls the shots, the Chief.
"What's going on?" Special Agent David Rossi asked. He and his team watched as the police chief turned to them just after he hung up the phone. Some determination deep within his eyes, or perhaps anger.
"We just got another report of screams coming from the same house." He quickly stated. "I'm about to go visit the home again, you all are free to tag along."
Everyone quickly agreed, however, Hotchner was quick to leave JJ and Reid at the station to start up a profile for the unsubs. Meanwhile, everyone else traveled to the most unsuspecting home in the most unsuspecting neighborhood. It was one of those neighborhoods that would be in an ad back in the day that promoted the American Dream to foreigners. The clean cut green grass, the perfect two story home, and of course, the whit picket fence. When the team came up to the house and knocked on the door the woman answered first. She stared at them with narrowed eyes as she scanned all of the badges they whipped out for her to see.
"Mrs Perez? We have a few questions for you. May we come in?" Derek asked with the deep and silky voice that attract woman left and right.
"Sure," she stuttered. Her fingers scrunched against her thin scarf that hung loosely around her neck as she stepped aside for them. Each one that entered her home allowed another squeeze at her scarf.
As the officer and members from the FBI looked around the home, they noticed nothing out of the ordinary. It was a typically normal home with a normal living room, kitchen, even bedroom. When they all sat down in the living room to talk, Derek couldn't help but notice a door that looked to lead up to an attic. One that would have to be pulled down from the sealing. Thing was though, it had a lock. He kept it in mind as others began to question her. Rossi looking around at the picture of her and her husband along a table, as well as several items that indicated she was religious.
"Where is your husband, Mrs Perez?" Rossi asked. He stared at the back of her head for a moment before going back to the pictures when he heard her reply, "The store, we needed more food."
"Ma'am, we've been getting several reports now of screams coming from your house. Mind telling us what that's all about?" The officer asked, his brows furrowed more the longer he stared at her.
"I have no idea. It's just me and my husband, you see. We don't bother anyone." She stated calmly. Although, even with her calm demeanor, something about this woman irked Derek to his very core. He could feel it in his gut that something was wrong, and almost on some god-given luck a few noises--like footsteps--came from above. Everyone was quick to get a look up, their minds racing. However, when they looked back at the woman on instinct she said, "We have a raccoons nest up there."
"Better get them out soon, raccoons tend to carry all kinds of illnesses." Rossi said in a manner that was almost read as sarcastic, like he wasn't buying any of it. Although, even with the timid questioning, things began to heat up at an exponential rate when he saw a photo of a small boy. In the picture it was easy to say he was a cute kid. Smooth skin, full lips, gorgeous colored orbs, and healthy looking hair. The kinda features for a male that would mature into god-like looks.
"This your son?" Rossi asked. He held the photo up for her to get a look at when she turned her body around.
"Yes. His name is [Name], a sweet boy." She sugared, something about her honeyed words clawed at Rossi.
"So, where is he now?" He asked, walking up to the group once he set the photo down. He watched as she grabbed a hold of her necklace, a cross, as she said, "I sent him away. Boys like those detectives, they get a lot of attention."
"What kind of attention?" Prentiss asked, her arms folded over her chest.
"Attention one boy should not be getting from another." She hissed out. Her hatred now clear for everyone to see. Her dark eyes scanned the room before her voice became strong, more stern. "How would you feel if your son was kissing other boys?"
"I wouldn't care." Hotchner quickly stated, his own eyes burning with hatred as well. However, his hate was targeted somewhere different. "What did you do to him?"
She stared at Hotchner for a moment. Her eyes twisting into something that made his stomach turn at what she could have done to her own son. Then, a moment later, she raised her chin and said, "Somewhere better. Somewhere where he can learn god's will and fix his devil like face."
After the interrogation at the Perez house, the team went back to the station where Reid had been fixing up a board that helped him classify the unsubs.
"Whatcha got, pretty boy?" Derek asked with a small smirk. He saw Reid turn around with a sorta mocking face for a split second before getting into his findings.
"The only connection I could find between the missing woman was that they are all between the ages of eighteen and twenty, not only that but after about a week they are discarded and replaced." Reid started out saying, thoughts now running through his family's minds when he said, "It was almost like they were defective to them in some way."
Derek was the first to speak his mind, even if he didn’t like the conclusion he and many others were coming up with only after meeting the wife once. “When we went there, she went on about sending her son to a ‘better place’ where he can ‘fix himself’. If her and her husband have him and are taking these women, is it a stretch to say that they’re taking these women for him?”
“Well, why would they be doing that?” JJ asked. “I mean, you guys said that it sounded like their son was homosexual.”
“He can still be.” Rossi said, “but the parents think they can fix his sexuality by forcing these women onto him and when they don’t..”
“They’re killed and replaced,” Hotchner finished, his eyes scanning the board before saying aloud, “let’s go give the profile.”
3. Escape Never Looked So Easy
You’ve known this place most of your life and for the longest time you could remember a new girl coming to visit you every week. No, visit isn't the right word. More so forced to see you. You knew what was going on as you got older and you knew the first thing you had to do was help these women in anyway you could. Over and over again you have failed in ways that no one would ever understand. However, you were determined to help this one. You had too. Not only for a lofty sense of justice and pity, but since it was also your chance. She could help. Go to the police. The FBI are here now, they will help you.
"It'll be okay, I promise." You whispered to a scared woman who hugged her knees in her chest. The tears down her face wouldn't stop, staining her pale cheeks. Her wobbly eyes gazed up at you, staring at every possible scar that they left on your face.
"How do you do it?" Her brittle voice asked. Her head leaned to the side as her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.
It was weird to be asked such a question, but not an uncommon one. They all ask it eventually, and you guess at some point in time you found the answer.
"I.. learned to adapt." You muttered out, your own head leaning downward as you stared at the rotting wooden floorboards. It was quiet for a moment, but you could still feel her eyes curiously watching you. Searching you.
"H-How long have you been up here?" She stuttered, almost scared to know the answer.
This time it was your turn to mirror her look of confusion. You could always tell when it was night and day, when the seasons chance, but you never have been able to count the years that have gone by. That was always the hard part.
"Don't know," You uttered, your voice soft and vulnerable. "All my life, I suppose."
Looking back, all you remember is this place. This way of living. You truly believe the only thing that kept you from believing this was okay in anyway was the books your father sneaks to you. He ended up doing it for as long as you could remember, but after some time whenever she would leave the house he would come up here. He'd teach you things, tend to my wounds, even apologize.
One time, he even tried to help you escape. A while ago, after they put up the tarp so the neighbors couldn't see you from the attic, he left the nails very loose in the wooden boards along the wall. It was easy for you to take it off without making too much noise. The jump down wasn't much given how it's only a two story home and the land would be in some bushes, but she tends to be more concerned with locking you away from the world. Father said it was so you don't 'act on the devil's desires'.
That sentence never did make sense to you. As much as you believe in your own intelligence, you could never wrap your head around it. After all, how would you be acting on the 'devil's desires' when she calls you the devil in disguise. Wouldn't it just be your own desires then? And even so, what's so wrong about desires? That's what makes an individual, otherwise wouldn't we all just be the same?
Father told you it started off with my looks. She believes you’re not their child, and he predicts that's how she can act so monstrous towards you. She apparently used to tell him about how the devil is supposed to be depicted as a handsome man, one with radiant features and charism so he can make others sin. She was always scared of you, of how you would look when you grew older. But, the moment she caught you innocently giving a kiss to a boy, she snapped.
She tells your father that they are ridding great evil from the world. Not so much about protecting you, fixing you. But more about protecting other people, helping other people. She used to call priests all the time when you were younger, but they stopped coming after some time. Your father thinks it has something to do with the fact that she didn't want the priests to see the scars on your face.
The first one she placed on you was on your left bottom lip. It drags from your lip to a little on your chin. It's noticeable, that's for a sure, as well as jagged. Over time, the cuts got smoother. The latest was under your right eye. It was curved to match my eye socket as well as wide more in the middle before riding off. All the other scars just happened to be on your body. Chest, back, legs, arms. She wanted to make sure that you were no longer the devil she imagined. After all, if your face was no longer sinful, if your handsome features were cut up, who would think of you as even the least bit attractive?
You only snapped out of your own thoughts when the girl across from you tapped on your shoulder. Your eyes quickly met hers that were filled with some kinda new strength while you felt wetness stream down your face.
"We're gonna get outta here. Both of us." She said to you. It was the first time someone had offered to take you with them. The first time that they didn't just care about their own escape. Although, you never blamed them.
"Y-Yeah," You stuttered, your voice cracking the longer she stared at you.
However, you decided at this point it would be best to just focus on her. She was more in danger than you were, so, you told her a plan. One that was full proof as long as that woman is out of the house.
"I can't take the tarp down, nevertheless open the window with my hands." You informed her. She guided her eyes to your shaky hands that where riddled with scars and bruises. Some cuts open with dried blood the only thing keeping the wound shut. "They haven't hurt you like they have me yet. So, it's up to you."
"How will I know she's gone?" The girl asked.
"She will be soon. This is the time of the day that she goes out for more supplies. It will take her at least twenty minutes." You informed her. Your head dropping for a second before saying softly, "Get back here with those FBI guys before then."
"Why?" She asked curiously.
You never did answer that question. It was your least favorite of all questions, especially when the answer most of the times is so easy to figure out.
4. God Sent Me An Angel
Fifteen minutes. That's how long she's been gone for. As much as you hope she would bring those people back, you wouldn't blame her if she just ran for the hills. Something like this, it would scare a lot of normal people. Though when does something scary turn into another person's normal? After time? You suppose that could be one answer; maybe even the only answer.
You think it was in a book you read stated that faith could be something of salvation and yet could lead someone onto the highway to hell. You truly believe that is where she will go after she dies, and you do hope that she realizes the truth. The single truth that you are not the devil in disguise. That you are not a sinner. That you are not Satan himself.
It was so quiet, quiet enough to hear your own breathing as it entered through your nose and out your mouth. Your breath laid still in the air, visible by the cool air that surrounded the attic. There wasn’t a heater in there, so the temperature was determined by the weather on the outside. 
One minute. Two minutes. You felt like you had started counting the seconds, lost so much in your head that you didn’t hear anything until the sound of clanking wood rang loud in your ear drums, infecting your brain.
You whipped your head around and stared blankly at the only exit or entrance of this hell besides the now broken window. Although, you had heard the sound so many times before that it was normal, most of the time you wouldn't even go to look. But this time you wanted to see, you wanted to look to see if the true devil was going to look you in the eyes or maybe perhaps it would be an angel himself.
However, you heard no sirens. Heard no new voices or those of those men before. So, the moment you saw the light shine from the house into the attic, you knew you would be staring into the eyes of the devil. And you did.
You knew the moment you saw the disembodied look on her face that my fate was sealed with a bloody end. Perhaps now your suffering can end, maybe now you can actually get some peace.
"Get over here, boy!" She yelled, her words like poison. Yet you hoped in that moment that when she wrapped her hand around your wrist that you would be let to your salvation. Maybe when you die you would see the pretty stars, the beautiful moon that somehow gave you a sense of hope in that dark and cold attic.
Her grip was solid and terrifying, although the fear you had for that woman died a long time ago when she started to slash your face. You couldn't see your father for miles, you had just assumed in that moment that perhaps she killed him as well, just like with all the other woman before. The ones you failed to save but each made a vow to, one they wanted you to keep before they met their end.
It wasn't until you both went into the kitchen and found yourself in the spot that she makes a mess with your body that you felt something. It wasn't so much fear or anger, but more so hope. It was the hope that this never ending nightmare would finally come to a close, that you would finally wake up.
"Sirens.." You muttered to yourself, your voice soft like that of a childs. You watched as her face contorted in fear when some men began to pound on the door and claim to be with the FBI.
When the door was busted down she pulled you close to her and held an object close to your neck, yet before it all she managed to grab the nearest bag and place it over your face. Essentially, even to the end she would rather hide me from them all entirely. With your vision gone, all you had was sound and touch to go one.
"Put the knife down!" You heard a man yell. You could remember him as one of the men that came here the other day.
"Mrs. Perez, let the boy go." A soft voice spoke. You couldn't explain why it was silky and not as deep as the other but gave you a sense of calmness. You could tell you would be fine in that moment, and believed it more than the entire universe.
"I'm not letting such evil into the world! None of you understand! He's the devil himself!" She screamed, the knife's sharp edges more prominent against your neck. You didn't make a sound though. You thought maybe you could get punished if you did.
"Why do you believe that?" The man with the calming voice asked. You could tell he was trying to calm her down to let you go.
Her firm grasp on your shoulder suddenly grew tighter, you believed she could shatter your bones if she really wanted to. "Everything about him. He's a sinner, he makes other people sin." She whispered, "He doesn't look like me or my husband."
"You think he's the devil because of his looks?" He asked.
It was silent for a second before she uttered, "I know he is because of his looks. I tried, I tried so hard to make it so he wouldn't make others sin. So he wouldn't spread such evil into this world."
"Why don't you tell me all about it after you hand him over?" He asked. You could tell all of his words were lies. "If.. If he's in custody with the FBI then he won't be able to spread the evil you speak off."
"Could I.. get rid of him?" She muttered. It was quiet, so quiet that all you could hear was your own breathing until you felt the hand on you shoulder slowly loosen. The knife around your neck moved around and before you knew it you could feel a pair of gentle hands on your upper arms.
You could hear the shuffling next to you and the jiggle of metal as they cuffed the woman next to you. It wasn't until you heard those footsteps echo off into the distance that the one in front of you asked, "Are you alright?"
You only nodded. It wasn't that you had an issue with talking or something, you just didn't want to at the moment.
"I'm gonna take this off, okay?" He asked. Your mind guessed he was taller than you and looked up an inch in turn. It was the first time that someone asked permission to do something to you.
You nodded again and once you did the crinkling the bag ran loud into your ears as the darkness you saw turned into light. When you opened your eyes, you stared at the man in front of you. He was young, maybe in his early or mid 20s. His chestnut hair was on the longer side and did this cute thing were it got curly on the ends. It reached down to his jaw that was sharp. He had pale skin, and had these eyes anyone could get lost in. They were sweet, something you haven't seen in anyone but those woman and your father at times.
The both of you stared at one another for an extended period of time. While you admired the man's features, you thought perhaps he was in shock at how hideous you look. Between the scars and such, you wouldn't be surprised if he thought that. However, the more you looked into his eyes, the more the idea of disgust was pushed from your mind. It was like that emotion wasn't even present as he stared at you.
Though, when he snapped out of his daze, he looked back on his game.
"Hey, there," he uttered calmly. "My name's Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI, you're gonna be okay, you understand?"
You nodded your head again. You could tell he probably thought you were mute or something so when he started to move away you said aloud, "[Name]."
He was quick to move his head around back at you. The expression on his face was one of shock. He was truly baffled you were speaking, which made you almost retract. Although, I didn't.
"What was that?" He asked in confirmation.
"[Name]." You said more firmly, my natural deeper tone coming through. "That’s my name, since we’re sharing."
This time it was his turn to nod his head a bit, but at the same time, he smiled. It was softer and showed no teeth, but a smile nonetheless. It somehow softened you a tad, almost made you feel vulnerable to an extent. However you knew that it probably had something to die with the fact that he saved your life.
"We're gonna take you somewhere safe. Is that okay with you?" He asked. The second time someone has asked your permission. It truly felt wonderful. It was almost like you mattered, like your feelings were valid.
"Sure," you said. It was at this moment that your turning point would occur and you would be be allowed the freedom to do what you pleased. Something you were deprived of for over fifteen years.
354 notes · View notes
vampiregirl1797 · 4 years
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Love Blossoms
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Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
GIF Not Mine.
Click Here To Find My Masterlist.
Warnings: mentions of murderers, panic attack, some light smut near the end, otherwise FLUFF and Aaron allowing himself to be less serious and more happy around Y/N.
Word Count: 15,065– It’s a big ole one.
Summary: A collection of moments between Aaron and Y/N, documenting the journey they took to come together.
When I had started working at the BAU, it had been just after Agent Greenway transferred to another unit. I had no idea why she’d made the decision, but I sensed it was better not to ask, due to the tense behaviour that appeared the few times her name had come up in conversation. It took a while for the team to warm up to me, but even then they were still polite and professional. But for a good six weeks, I felt a little... left out, which sounded almost juvenile, but it was the truth. It didn’t take an expert in behaviour to notice that the BAU team were like a family, and after just losing a member made it easy to understand their hesitance in letting me into the fold. 
I don’t know what made the decision for them, but it seemed that my relationship with each and every one of them went from polite and professional to open, honest and familial overnight. But I wasn’t going to complain, they were the most wonderful people I’d ever met and I was grateful for being accepted into their little family. There was only one problem, and that was Aaron Hotchner. The man was incredibly stern-faced, hardly ever smiled and he led the team like a drill Sargent. He had the most expressive eyes I’d ever seen, when he was actually willing to let his guard down for people to read them, he cared deeply, deeper than anyone would ever think, and I swear to god he knew about the crush I’d had on him since the moment I’d been introduced by Strauss on my first day at the BAU. That had been almost a year ago now, and my feelings had flourished, the flowers blossoming, the roots digging deep inside me to a point that extraction would cause me immense physical pain. I was in love with my boss, and I was certain he knew. How could he not? He was the unit chief of a team of profilers for goodness sake. And after we’d all witnessed JJ unsuccessfully hide her relationship with Will from us, well let’s just say I wouldn't be surprised if the whole team knew too. But I tried not to give it too much thought, after all Hotch was married and he was my boss. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it if I wanted to.
I needed to get over it, that much was clear. Which was why I was open to accepting Garcia’s offer to set me up on a blind date with one of her gamer friends. It could be good, couldn’t it?
//
‘Garcia, I swear I’m never letting you set me up on a date again!’ I complained, waving my hands around in my frustration, but somehow managing not to spill a drop of the coffee in my right hand.
‘Come on, Y/N! Randell is a catch!’ Garcia argued, linking her arm through my left in an attempt to calm my erratic movements.
‘A catch? Honey, there’s a reason they say you should never trust people you meet on the internet!’ I quirked my brow, lightly elbowing her when I noticed the smile she was trying to hold back as we stepped into he conference room, ‘you knew he was a creep!’
‘No I didn’t, I swear. Seriously though, what happened?’ She asked as we took our seats at the round table— we were the first to arrive for the briefing. 
‘He was only capable of talking about sex, which was ironic because he kept flinching and crossing his legs every time I so much as reached for my wine.’ I rolled my eyes, sighing, ‘not to be overly negative but that guy wouldn’t have lasted thirty seconds if I’d taken him up on his offer.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She winced, her expression softening with sympathy.
‘Oh, I’m only getting started, he kept degrading me.’ I took a sip of my coffee to get my anger under control, ‘saying things like: “I’ll bet a girl like you likes it real hard and rough, huh? I’ll bet you’re a dirty little slut.” And then he proceeded to ask me to call him “Daddy” so I threw his wine in his face and left.’
‘His wine?’ Pen frowned, and I didn’t notice the way she glanced over my shoulder and took a sip of her own hot beverage to hide her smile.
‘I’d already drunk mine.’ I shrugged, my smile becoming a full grin when Penny started to laugh.
‘Well I’m sorry that he was a jerk, Y/N.’ Garcia said, her voice sincere once she’d recovered from the humour of my story, ‘he may or may not find a hardware wiping virus on his computer at some point today as a punishment.’
That startled a laugh out of me, and she chuckled with me too, my hand squeezing hers briefly in gratitude before releasing her. 
‘Don’t worry about it, it’s my own fault really.’ I bit my lip, knowing that she could have put the perfect guy in front of me last night and I still would have found him to be lacking in some way. Because he wouldn’t have been him. I shook that errant thought away before it could show on my face.
‘We’ll find someone for you, Y/N.’ She patted my arm and lowered her voice as the rest of the team joined us, ‘or at the very least someone for you to blow off some steam with.’ She winked.
Her sudden suggestiveness took me off guard, so much so that if it hadn’t been for me raising my cup back to my mouth in time, there would have been coffee all over the round table, and a few agents sitting around it. I gave her a look that was a mixture of annoyance and mirth, but she only winked again as I wiped my mouth free of the excess beverage that had spilled onto my chin.
‘Are you gonna share what you’re talking about over there, Baby girl?’ Derek asked, a smirk painted on his lips as his eyes flittered in between the both of us.
Garcia and I shared a look that was full of mischief and mayhem— the usual concoction that resulted in us being together. Pen leaned forward and opened her mouth to say something that was going to be incredibly suggestive and most likely inappropriate, but as if he sensed a verbal war he wouldn’t be able to stop unless he got ahead of it, Hotch bought the conversation to a stop.
‘We’re going to Louisiana. They need our help with an unsub who’s mutilating women aged 25-30.’ He started, his authoritative tone garnering the teams attention immediately— I personally felt incapable of not paying attention when he spoke, he was so... captivating. 
I felt myself subconsciously crossing my legs together, a vain attempt to quell the ache that started to form whenever I lost myself in his dominant personality. I pulled my eyes from him with great effort, and focused on the file in front of me, but it was for nought as my mind ran wild. Generally alpha personalities guaranteed a handful of the same qualities: arrogance, narcissism, dominance to a point of control and over confidence. I’d met, and even dated, more than my fair share of men with those same characteristics. But Aaron was different, and up until I’d met him I had no idea there was another kind of alpha male. He wasn’t arrogant, he was most certainly intelligent and confident within himself, but not to the point of parading his greatness in front of anyone and everyone in an attempt to boost his ego. He was quietly confident, but still willing to listen to others, still willing to accept blame if he ever did something wrong. He was about as far from a narcissist as you could get— getting him to talk about himself for more than a few sentences was taxing, he was much more comfortable and happy with the topic of conversation being on anyone but him. And as for being dominant... he most certainly gave of an aura of authority that you couldn’t help but notice or pay attention to, but rather than be flippantly commanding like the other alpha males I’d known, he always took other’s feelings into account. In other words— he’d never make you go through with something he could tell you wouldn't be comfortable with. Without meaning to, I couldn’t help but think Aaron Hotchner would most definitely be dominant in the bedroom— but I had a feeling it would be tailored to whoever he was with. He was a caring dominant personality, I was sure of it, he was the type of alpha personality to get off on getting his bed partner off, to care about fulfilling her fantasies and desires. The type to care about keeping his partner safe, to care for them physically, mentally and emotionally. 
Hayley was a lucky woman.
I shook myself out of my thoughts with a sigh, actually taking in the details of the case in front of me and hearing Reid reel off the square footage of Louisiana. 
‘Seeing as we already have three victims I’ll get started in a geographical profile when we arrive.’ Spencer finished, offering Hotch a small smile as he offered an approving nod.
‘Very good. Wheels up in ten, if this unsub follows the same pattern, he’s about to kidnap his next victim. Time is of the essence.’ Hotch said, I didn’t notice him frown when I didn’t catch his eye before leaving the room like I usually did— I just couldn’t bring myself to look at him just yet given how my thoughts had wondered off. 
I needed to get my reactions around him under control, because this was getting ridiculous.
//
‘He has to be finding the girls at this club, following them home, and kidnapping them before they get their keys in the door.’ Morgan said, running a hand over his head as an exhausted sigh escaped him.
I leaned next to him on the table, my arm knocking against his as a silent offer of comfort, he nudged me back and smiled with gratitude.
‘I think our best bet is sending someone undercover.’ One of the cops at the Louisiana station proposed, and not for the first time. 
At first he’d been dismissed because when we’d arrived, there had already been another woman reported missing, and we knew he kept them for a minimum of three days before disposing of them. So it would have been pointless to send someone out to seduce him when he already had someone to keep him busy. Her body had been found this morning and the friend who’d been with her had confirmed they’d been at the same club as the others the night she’d gone missing. We had no idea who he was, or how to find him, but we knew where he was going to be, now we had to lay the bait, but who was it going to be?
‘It’s not a bad idea.’ Prentiss said, looking over to Hotch, knowing that nothing would go ahead without his approval.
‘We’d need a woman who fits his type.’ Spencer pointed out, looking over to me.
‘Why are you looking at me, Doc?’ I raised a brow, frowning when I noticed everyone’s eyes on me, all except one pair.
‘Y/N, would you be comfortable with going undercover?’ He asked, his brown eyes meeting mine directly for the first time that day.
I felt my heart beat pick up in my chest as I answered, ‘of course.’ 
His eyes remained on mine for a few more moments, holding me captive while he studied my expression to determine if I meant what I’d said, or if I was simply agreeing because I felt I had to. What felt like hours later, he looked away, and I felt like I could breathe again as I lifted my coffee cup to my lips to hide my shallow breaths as I worked to return my heart rate to normal. 
‘JJ and I will go with her, all the other victims were in groups, it would be suspicious if she was on her own.’ Prentiss murmured, her words somehow still sounding like a question even though she hadn’t worded it as one.
‘Fine.’ Hotch nodded, sweeping out of the room and leaving the team to prepare for what was most definitely going to be a long night.
//
‘I look ridiculous.’ I complained, not for the first time but I couldn't help it— I had never wore such revealing clothes and I felt exposed and stupid.
‘No, you look like a knock out, trust us we know what we’re doing.’ JJ said, her voice gentle and patient— I assumed she could see the discomfort in my eyes.
‘Don’t forget, we need to attract the unsub’s attention, and all of his victims so far have been party girls so we need to appeal to his type.’ Prentiss reminded me and I sighed, closed my eyes and resigned myself to my fate.
This isn’t about me. This is about stopping a psychopath and preventing anymore women dying.
‘Okay, thank you both.’ I offered them a shaky smile as I stood, trying to walk in the heels they’d dressed me in. It took a few minutes of pacing, but I got it.
Before I knew it, we were heading to the club the victims were last seen in, JJ and Prentiss linking both of my arms, and a deceivingly bright smile plastered on my lips. This was going to be hell. But I sucked it up and headed over to the bar, signalling for three drinks that were most likely going to be nursed for as long as possible. I was waiting for my drinks to be prepared when I felt a presence behind me. I attempted to ignore it until I felt a hand on my waist, the feeling sending a shiver of dread up my spine. I looked up into the darkest eyes I’d ever seen, and I didn’t just mean in colour, though they were a dark brown, but there was no emotion behind his iris’. They were completely void of any emotion aside from a sadistic shimmer that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This was the unsub, I was sure of it.
‘What might your name be?’ He asked, his hand moving back and forth on my waist.
I knew from the profile that this man’s ego led him to kill when he was rejected by the women he sought out, so I took great pleasure in twisting his arm behind his back.
‘My name is none of your business.’ I sneered, gathering up the drinks and carrying them over to the table the three of us commandeered in the corner.
‘We saw you had company.’ Emily commented, her tone light but her eyes held a seriousness to it that hinted at what she was really asking.
‘That’s him. I’m sure of it.’ I said, relaying what had happened to them, and the rest of the team on the comms. 
‘Give it thirty minutes, then leave. Remember, you’re leaving separately. Y/N first and we’ll see if he follows you.’ Hotch murmured, his voice a quiet, seductive tone in my ear. 
I took a deep breath and pushed away the cocktail in front of me— anymore alcohol and I would end up revealing more than I wanted. I knew from experience that I was a chatty drunk, and incapable of keeping any secrets to myself. 
‘Got it.’ JJ answered for all of us and we lapsed into casual conversation for the next half hour.
Despite my intentions not to, half of my drink was gone before I’d even realised I was drinking it, but by that point I couldn’t remember why alcohol wasn’t a great idea.
‘So what happened with that asshole Garcia set you up with anyway?’ Emily asked, sipping her own cocktail.
I snorted, ‘he was awful, honestly. Wouldn’t talk about anything but sex, but every time I reached for my drink he flinched and kept shifting in his seat.’
‘No stamina there then.’ JJ snorted and Em and I nodded in agreement.
‘Honestly I’m just so sick of it.’ I rolled my eyes, swirling my drink around with my straw, ‘I can’t remember the last time I had satisfying sex.’
JJ snorted into her drink and Emily loudly agreed with me.
‘Tell me about it! The ones who are loud and proud about being able to get a woman off have—.’ Em started but I cut her off, happy someone knew what I meant.
‘NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE DOING!’ I held my hand out for a high five, and sober I would have never considered high-fiving over something like this, but drunk me thought it was a great idea and apparently Emily agreed as she slapped her palm against mine eagerly.
‘Well, lucky for me I got one of the good ones.’ JJ smirked, flashing her wedding rings.
‘Lucky bitch,’ I gave her a mock glare that had her winking at me.
‘Seriously, you don’t know how lucky you are. Good guys are so unique and rare.’ Emily sighed, ‘I went on a date last month with a guy who spent the whole night talking to my breasts and when he was clawing at me when he dropped me back off at my place, I ended up kneeing him in the crotch.’
‘Men our age suck.’ I squeezed her hand in agreement, ‘most of them only care about getting themselves off, some to the point of aggression if you try and push them off when you’re not enjoying it.’
‘Amen.’ Emily cheered.
‘Do they know we can still hear them?’ Spence’s voice over the comms had us all breaking into laughter.
‘Sorry Spence.’ JJ apologised, wiping the moisture from her eyes.
‘No don’t apologise!’ I shook my head, holding up my hand to stop them from commenting, ‘he’s right, it’s sexist to exclude him from the conversation, do you have anything to add, Doc?’
I could practically hear him blushing from inside the club as he floundered for a moment, and someone— probably Derek— chuckled. 
‘I know that in 2015, only 6 percent of women said that they always had an orgasm during penile-vaginal intercourse, 40 percent said they had an orgasm nearly always, 16 percent of women had an orgasm half the time, and 38 percent had one infrequently.’ Spencer reeled off, always eager to share information he’d absorbed.
‘Thank you, Spencer for proving my point.’ I smiled, finishing my drink, ‘you’re herby invited to the next girls night.’
Emily and JJ cheered, our glasses clinking together as they finished their drinks too, signalling for two more.
‘Thanks,’ Reid mumbled, actually sounding quite touched at the invitation.
I cleared my throat and stood, careful to keep the nerves now bubbling in my gut off my expression.
‘Well ladies, this has been fun, but I have to go.’ I pretended to pout, winking when they groaned in disappointment, ‘sorry, I have an early day tomorrow. Goodnight, I love you both.’
I hugged them before I departed, and both murmured a “be careful” into my ear before I left them. As I walked out of the club and headed for my car, I couldn't help but put my phone to my ear to talk to the others— the further away I got, the quieter I became and the more nervous I was.
‘Hey, this is unexpected, it’s so nice to hear from you!’ I greeted brightly, being careful to keep my eyes trained forward—if he thought I was on to him I might scare him off.
‘You’re doing great, sweetness.’ Derek murmured, his voice calm and comforting, though it didn’t dissipate my nerves completely.
‘That’s amazing, congratulations. I’ll bet your fiancée is so proud of you!’ I gushed, unlocking the rental car they’d commandeered for me and sliding inside, tossing my phone into my purse and placing it onto the passenger seat and putting on my seatbelt. 
‘Just a little further, Y/N.’ Hotch’s voice soothed my anxiety like a balm and I felt my white knuckle grip ease a little from the steering wheel as I settled into the drivers set, suddenly more at ease.
‘Thank you.’ I murmured, hoping he didn’t hear how breathy my voice sounded as I headed for the address that had been pre-programmed into the GPS. 
I drove in comfortable silence, knowing the team was on the comms offering me a sense of security. I was about five minutes from arriving when a cop car lit up behind me, wanting me to pull over.
‘Uhhh... did we clear the Louisiana police?’ I asked, not pulling over just yet.
‘Why?’ Hotch asked, his voice urgent.
‘Because someone is trying to pull me over now. What if that’s how he got them? Coming to the club in his cruiser and following them to pull them over when they were on their way home?’ I suggested, trying not to panic as my heart suddenly felt like it was beating in my throat. It made sense, and I might have recognised him had I been paying more attention to the cops around the station. It made me wonder if he knew me, but then again I’d barely been at the precinct the past few days, Hotch had me on activities that led to me being outside the station.
‘Y/N, listen to me do not pull over. Garcia just checked with Louisiana police department and there aren’t supposed to be any cars in patrol in that area.’ Hotch ordered, and I wondered if I imagined the tremor of concern in his voice as I sped up a little.
‘If I don’t pull over then we won’t have anything on him, remember? We have no way to tie him to the women he killed, and if he’s a cop that makes sense. If he doesn’t take me, he’ll try to take someone else, someone who doesn’t have an FBI team and SWAT to back her up.’ I argued, but I didn’t like it anymore than he did.
He didn’t respond for a long time and my heart beat became so loud that it was ringing in my ears. I almost didn’t hear Hotch when he responded.
‘Give it one minute and then pull over, I’m redirecting SWAT to your location and we’ll be there as fast as we can. Keep him talking, Y/N and don’t hang up the phone.’ He murmured, his voice dripping with so much authority that it made the hairs on my arms stand up.
‘Yes sir.’ I answered, watching the clock on my dashboard and pulling over exactly one minute later. 
I put a bright smile on my face as the same man from the bar came up to my window, signalling for me to wind it down. I lowered it an inch. His smile was dark and I had to physically hold myself back from flinching.
‘Hello there darlin,’ he greeted, his attempt to be charming having the opposite effect, ‘I didn’t just see you come out of that club back there, did I?’
I pursed my lips, deliberating on whether to lie or not, I knew he’d find a way to get me out of the car either way, but I needed to buy myself some time.
‘You did, officer.’ I admitted, biting my lip in what I hoped was an enticing way, ‘but I only drank water.’
‘You wouldn’t mind proving that, would you?’ His hands rested on his hips as he pushed his chest out, attempting to emphasise his brawny shoulders, but he just looked like he was pecking like a chicken.
‘Prove it how?’ I attempted ignorance.
‘Take a breathalyser test for me, if you’re under the limit, I’ll send you on your way.’ He winked, his eyes glinting dangerously at the prospect of what he could do to me as soon as I stepped out of the car.
‘How long would that take, exactly?’ I asked, but I wasn’t talking to him.
‘We’re two minutes out, Y/N.’ Derek promised.
‘No more than five minutes.’ The man promised and with a sigh, I climbed out of the safety of my car, slamming the door shut loud enough to be heard over the comms.
‘Okay then.’ My words ended in a scream, because even though I was hyper aware of every move he made, the fucker was fast and had stabbed a needle into my arm before I could so much as attempt to defend myself.
‘What did you just—what did you—what’s happening?’ I groaned, my voice consumed with panic as I started to lose feeling in my limps. He caught me under the arms when I fell forward and laid me on the back of his cop car. 
‘You and me are going to have so much fun, not that you deserve it, you uptight bitch.’ He snarled, his hand wrapping around my throat and squeezing just enough to make me aware how easy it would be for him to kill me then and there.
‘No,’ My eyes were wet with tears as I felt his hand roaming across my chest, ‘stop.’
He grinned, his eyes reflecting how much pleasure he was taking from this, and he watched my expression as his hand started drifting lower and lower...
I gasped in relief when he was roughly pulled off me. I couldn’t lift my head, but I heard the thump as he was pinned to the car and cuffed, most likely by Derek. 
‘I can’t m-move.’ I said, worried that my voice would be to low to hear as even talking was taxing and took maximum effort.
‘Y/N,’ Hotch’s voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I noted the relief in his voice as his hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me into sitting position.
‘I can’t move.’ I murmured, as if he didn't know that already, my forehead rested against his shoulder as my body slumped forward.
‘I know. You’re going to be okay, there’s an ambulance on the way,’ he reassured me, and I must have been on some heavy drugs because I could have sworn I felt him stroking my hair. 
‘Will you stay with me?’ I said, fear returning to my voice at the prospect of being in a cold, sterile hospital without a familiar, comforting face.
‘Of course I will.’ His warm breath against my ear would have made me shiver, had I been able to.
It was crazy how easily I slipped into unconsciousness with Aaron’s arms around me, holding me up and murmuring reassurances into my ear. His hand continually stroked over my hair, and I wondered if I fell asleep because of the drugs, or because Hotch had soothed me so well that I was powerless to stop it.
//
Months passed after the case in Louisiana, and nothing much changed, aside from Hotch announcing to the team that he and Hayley were getting a divorce. And I couldn’t muster up anything other than sadness for him, despite my nowhere near platonic feelings for him, I knew how much he loved her, how much it must have been killing him to be separated from her. So I tried to help in anyway I could, I took half his case files so he could go home sooner after cases and be able to spend a little time with his son before he was put to bed. I bought home cooked meals for him to take home, knowing he was less likely to take care of himself if he didn’t have a wife and son to cook for. And the whole team made an effort to get him to come out with us at least once a month. Usually I avoided the drinks on those particular outings, not knowing what my liquor fuelled brain might make me say to him, but tonight was one of the rare nights he said no, having promised Jack he would swing by and listen to his stories about his trip to the zoo. 
No one had been able to argue with that, and after we all went home to change— well JJ, Emily and I got ready at Penny’s place— we met up at our usual bar and started ordering the drinks. The conversation flowed with ease, and as the alcohol intake increased, the topics became more... private... between the girls anyway. Reid, Morgan and Rossi were having a separate conversation of their own about past cases by the sounds of it.
‘What’s your number?’ Pen asked.
‘My number? You have it in your phone!’ I frowned, genuinely confused over what she was asking.
‘Not your phone number, the number of people you’ve had sex with!’ Emily shoved my shoulder playfully, the other girls giggling when I flushed in embarrassment at the miscommunication.
‘Three.’ I held my fingers up for JJ, who was furthest away from me and possibly unable to hear due to the loud music.
‘26’ Emily said, winking and throwing back a shot of whiskey.
‘14’ JJ chirped.
‘11.’ Garcia admitted last.
‘Wow, I’m such a prude.’ I mumbled, taking my shot and throwing it back.
‘Nah, you’re young! At 25 my number was around the same as yours!’ Garcia assured me, downing her shot with a grimace. 
‘I’ll get the next round!’ I announced, standing from the table and trying not to fall on my face as I walked in the heels JJ insisted I wear. 
They were strappy platform heels and apparently they went perfectly with the flowing black skater dress I was wearing. It was a lacy material and I loved it because it was dressy but also comfortable. I reached the bar and ordered another round of the usual for our table, asking for it to be put on our tab. The bartender assured me he’d have my order ready in a few minutes and I’d just slid in a stool to wait when I felt someone groping my ass. 
I turned around so fast I almost gave myself whip lash, ‘hey, asshole what exactly do you think you’re doing?’ The first thing I noticed about him was the cockiness that seemed to seep from his every pore. His hair was a bleach blonde, his eyes a cold blue and his arrogant smile made my hand twitch.
‘Nothing sweetheart, pure accident I swear.’ He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. I assumed he was trying to draw attention to his obviously athletic frame, but honestly I didn't think there was anything he could do to make himself attractive to me.
‘Hmm, see it doesn’t happen again.’ I warned, glaring at him, but his smile didn't waver, of course it didn't. This was the kind of man who saw women as property, as a plaything for him to do what he wanted with, whether they enjoyed it or not. To him, I was inferior because of my gender, and honestly there were few other things that boiled my blood like sexism.
He stepped closer, so close that I could smell the excessive amount of cologne he was wearing, it made my nose scrunch up in distaste that he refused to see, because as far as he was concerned he was god’s gift to women.
‘Back off.’ I said, preparing to defend myself if he laid a finger on me.
He laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. He opened his mouth to say something but it snapped shut again when he spied something over my shoulder. I studied his expression for a moment, and when I saw the genuine fear in his eyes I determined he wasn’t faking just to deter my attention. I was just about to turn to see for myself what was scaring him, I idly wondered if Rossi or Derek had seen the commotion and come to offer assistance, but before I could I was overwhelmed with a familiar scent. It was the woodsy cologne that I’d gifted him for Christmas, having found it and insisting that it smelled of Hotch. It smelled comforting, safe and strong. That was the scent that surrounded me, and I felt my eyes flutter shut for a second, overcome with the calm that came over me. When he wrapped an arm around my waist, I was sure my knees would have buckled if I hadn’t been close enough to grab onto the bar for support. I vaguely registered his deep, authoritative voice saying something to the arrogant blonde in front of us, but all I could think about was how warm he was and how good the heat felt seeping through my dress and onto my skin. So good.
‘Y/N?’ His voice bought me back, his tone soft with concern and a little humour.
‘Sorry, I was out of it for a moment there.’ I shook my head, knowing I should step out of his hold, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
‘Are you alright?’ He asked, his free hand twitched and I wondered if that was because he wanted to touch me with that one too.
‘I’m fine.’ My chin jutting in the direction the boy had been standing, ‘but for future reference, that is an example of the assholes men my age can be.’ I mused, signalling for one more beer for the new addition to the party.
‘Hopefully he’ll grow out of it.’ He said, his tone was dry and I found myself laughing with him as we headed back to the table.
‘What took you so long, sweetness? I’m dying of thirst here!’ Derek complained, chuckling when I rolled my eyes at his antics.
I placed the tray in the middle of the table and everyone helped themselves. I tried not to show how pleased I was that Aaron ended up sat next to me, his arm over the back of the booth and close enough to my shoulders that I could feel the heat radiating from him. As everyone drifted to their own conversations, I found myself falling back to talk to Hotch, his dark eyes focused on me and only me. That was the thing about him; he had this way about him, of making you feel like the only one in the room when he looked at you. I didn't know if he had this effect on everyone, or if it was just me, but either way it was overwhelming.
‘How was Jack’s trip to the zoo?’ I asked, shifting a little to face him better, and trying not to visibly show how my heartbeat quickened as my legs became pressed up against his.
‘He loved it and he’s already begging for his birthday party to be there.’ He chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling with the fondness he held for his son.
‘His birthday isn’t until October though, I’m sure he’ll change his mind a million times before then.’ I reminded him, smiling because I knew how wonderfully indecisive Jack could be, as all kids his age were. 
Hotch stared at me for a moment, and for all my BAU skills as a profiler, I couldn’t identify the soft emotion swirling around in his eyes. Before either of us could attempt to continue the conversation, Rossi commandeered Aaron’s attention for help in recalling details of a particular case. I leant back and just observed everyone, happy to be silent for a moment and enjoy the atmosphere and multiple conversations around me without actually participating. And if I was secretly happy that Hotch’s arm stated behind me on the back of the booth, well no one needed to know.
As the night wore on, people started to leave. First Reid, then JJ and Prentiss, then Derek and Penny, until it was Rossi, Hotch and me. But when the exhaustion started to seep in despite my buzz, I decided it were best if I went home too. 
‘I’m calling it guys.’ I announced, standing and stretching out my tired limbs before I grabbed my purse and jacket.
‘How are you getting home?’ Hotch asked, standing with me.
‘I’m gonna call an Uber.’ I said, reaching into my bag for my phone, but his hand on my wrist stopped me.
‘Let me drive you, I’m heading out now anyway and it’s on my way home.’ He murmured, his eyes boring into mine. I could see that he really wanted me to accept his offer, but I knew if I said no he’d drop it and let me go.
‘Okay, if you don’t mind.’ I smiled, much preferring to get a ride home with someone I knew and trusted rather than have to wait in the cold for a stranger to pick me up.
‘Do you need a ride, Dave?’ Hotch asked as he slid on his own jacket.
I missed Rossi’s knowing smile as he answered, ‘nah, I’ve been on water for the most of the night, I’m fine to drive.’
‘Okay, see you in a few days!’ I kissed his cheek and walked with Aaron out of the bar, wondering if I was imagining the warmth from his hand seeping through my dress into my lower back. 
He led me to his car, opened the passenger door for me and gently closed it before moving to the drivers side. I felt a smile form on my lips at the chivalrous act— I didn’t know people still did that anymore— and I was surprised at the butterflies that formed in my stomach from his actions. He turned the heat up as he drove, noticing the subtle way I was rubbing my upper arms in order to generate some warmth. I found myself falling asleep, which was surprising seeing as I had trouble falling asleep when I knew someone could see me. Call me crazy, but it was the truth. I didn’t realise just how close I was to being completely immersed into unconsciousness until we arrived at my apartment and Hotch murmured my name, softly, sweetly.
‘Hmm?’ I jolted awake, my cheek feeling like ice from where it had been resting against the window.
‘We’re here.’ He smiled, and if I’d been more awake, more focused, I would have noticed the fondness behind it. 
‘Thank you.’ I blinked, trying to wake myself up a little more, ‘love you.’ I said, stepping out of the car and into my apartment building, which was coincidentally the same building as Emily’s. I was on the eighth floor and she was on the third. 
It wasn’t until I was tucked up in bed, on the brink of falling asleep again that I realised what I’d said. To Hotch. To my boss. To the man I was secretly in love with. Suddenly completely awake, I sat up, my eyes wide with mortification. 
It’s fine, you tell the team you love them all the time, he wouldn’t have interpreted it any other way. He wouldn’t. I took a deep calming breath and lay back down again.
It would be fine. Right?
//
When we returned to work, I came in a little earlier, determined to catch Hotch alone and offer him the cookies I’d made for him and Jack as a thank you for the ride home he’d given me. I also wanted to clear the air, test for any awkwardness that might be lingering from my surprising declaration. I was still clinging onto the hope that he hadn’t seen it as anything more than me confessing platonic love. 
I placed my coat and bag onto my desk and continued on to Hotch’s office, expecting him to be here already. But I was surprised to find it empty. I frowned when I noticed his coat and briefcase weren’t here yet, meaning he wasn’t somewhere else in the building. With a disappointed sigh I placed the box of cookies on his desk and took a post it note and pen from one of his drawers and scribbled a note before sticking it onto the box.
Hotch,
A thank you for taking me home the other night, I really appreciate it.
I made chocolate chip and walnut for you. 
The chocolate chip ones I decorated in a spider man theme are for Jack, and you if he wants to share.
Thanks again,
Y/N.
I walked to the small kitchenette and poured myself a cup of coffee before heading to my desk. Seeing as no one would be in for another hour and a half— at the earliest— I decided to get started on some paperwork. I was surprised at how quickly I got through it, being as a stack so large would have taken me all night any other day. I guessed doing it first thing allowed for maximum concentration, and I was just moving the final file over to the done pile when the first agent arrived.
‘Spence!’ I cheered, my smile melting into a sheepish expression when he jumped, ‘sorry! I’m just so happy to see another person, I’ve been here since 7 and the empty room was really starting to freak me out.’
He chuckled, placing his satchel and jacket on his desk before coming over to mine and accepting the hug I offered him. I loved hugging Spence; he was almost a foot taller than me, so when his arms wrapped around me he made me feel tiny and safe. He was like the twin I’d always wanted— we were similar in age, we liked the same movies and we were both a little socially awkward and trying to figure out who we were.
‘Why did you come in so early?’ He asked after we’d pulled apart, the both of us heading to the coffee machine, his arm around my shoulders.
‘I made cookies for Hotch and Jack and wanted to drop them off before the team could see and complain I hadn’t made them any.’ I told him, which wasn’t exactly a lie.
‘Smart.’ The genius snorted, pouring some coffee into my mug and then his own.
‘What did you get up to yesterday?’ I wondered as we headed back to my desk—I’d actually seen him on one of the days we’d had off as we’d had a Star Wars marathon. It was something we made a point to do at least once every three months. 
‘Nothing really, just boring domestic stuff.’ He shrugged, wheeling his chair over to my desk.
‘Same, well that and baking,’ I shrugged.
‘What’s the matter?’ He explained when I frowned in confusion, ‘you sighed, that’s your tell.’
I sighed again, biting my lip and looking over to Hotch’s still dark office, ‘can you keep a secret?’
‘You know I can, Y/N.’ He assured me, and I knew he was right.
‘I’m having certain... feelings for someone I shouldn’t be, and I’m just struggling to get over it.’ I admitted, looking down at my coffee cup to avoid his observant eyes.
‘You mean Hotch?’ He clarified, and my gaze found his, shocked and surprised at his casual question.
‘You know?’ I squeaked, putting my mug down before I dropped it, ‘does anyone else?’
‘I don’t think so, I mean I’ve known for a while now, but I didn’t say anything because I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know.’ He shrugged and his calm attitude quelled my anxiety a little.
‘Okay well yes, I’m in love with Hotch and I don’t know how to make it stop.’ I sighed, running a hand through my hair, ‘I know he’ll never look at me that way, plus he’s my boss everyone would see it as inappropriate and that’s not even factoring in the age gap. I’ve tried dating other men but I just compare them to him and find them lacking, or they end up being total jerks and well you know about the guy Pen set me up with.’
He nodded, his brow crinkled with sympathy.
‘I know what you’re going through. Well, kind of.’ He bit his lip, running a hand through his chocolate locks, ‘it took me a while to get over JJ.’
‘I didn’t know you liked her.’ I admitted softly, my hand reaching out to squeeze his.
‘I did, for about a year, until I realised that she was never going to see me that way. Then she met Will and had Henry so it was easier for me to move on.’ He explained, taking a sip of his coffee, ‘how long have you been in love with him?’
‘I’ve had feelings for him since I met him, but I never really paid them any mind until we were on our way back from a case on the jet. Everyone was asleep and Hotch was on his way back from the bathroom, on his way he stopped and covered JJ and Prentiss with blankets, and got you a pillow and put it under your head. When he saw that I was still awake he just smiled at me and sat down next to Rossi. He didn’t say a word and in that moment I realised I loved him.’ My voice was low, but still loud enough for Spencer to hear, and though neither of us knew it, it was loud enough for Hotch to hear from the kitchenette, neither of us aware of his presence, ‘that was almost two years ago.’
‘You should tell him.’ Spence said, his hand entwining with mine, knowing the warmth of his hand would offer me some comfort.
‘Why? It won’t change anything for the good. He’ll tell me I’m his subordinate, that a relationship would be inappropriate, that he’d never be interested even if I didn’t work for him. I’ll be heartbroken and embarrassed and it could change the whole team dynamic. I don’t want that to happen.’ I sighed, looking down and fighting to stop any tears from falling. But like I said, Spence was like my twin, he knew when I was upset and I was bundled up in his arms before I could take another breath. The tears fell in earnest then as I sobbed against his chest, knowing I needed this moment to pull myself together before the rest of the team arrived.
‘So what are you going to do?’ He murmured against my hair.
‘Suffer in silence and hope I don’t die alone.’ I said, sarcasm heavy in my tone, but it wasn’t enough to completely disguise the fear in my choice. 
‘Hey,’ he pulled back to look into my eyes, to allow me to see the sincerity behind his next words, ‘no matter what, you’ll never be alone, I promise you that. We’re all a family here, Y/N. You know that.’
A soft smile formed on my lips, ‘thanks Spence. You’re the best twin ever.’ 
We chuckled together and I pulled away to wipe the moisture from my cheeks before looking at the time on my watch. 8:45. The team would be arriving soon.
‘I’m gonna go and clean up.’ I murmured leaning over to pick up my bag and missing Hotch making his escape to the hallway so he wouldn’t be seen when I stood up. 
‘Okay.’ Spence’s voice was soft and he returned the smile I sent him as I left for the bathroom.
By the time I’d ran some cold water over my face, reapplied my make up and ran a brush through my hair, I looked like I had when I first stepped through the doors this morning. No evidence of my morning heart-to-heart with Dr Spencer Reid remained as I made my way back to my desk, placing my bag onto my chair and joining the others in the conference room. 
‘Sorry, I was just in the bathroom.’ I murmured, feeling the embarrassed flush form on my cheeks. Only I could arrive two hours early and still be late for the briefing.
‘It’s no problem,’ Hotch replied, nodding at Garcia to continue relaying the case.
 I didn’t notice his eyes flicker back to me after I’d opened the case file, his dark eyes swimming with adoration, concern and sadness for a moment before his guards rose again and his attention shifted back to Garcia. 
Reid however noticed the glance and felt his heart squeeze with hope. Y/N might not have noticed Hotch’s behaviour towards her, but he certainly had. He doubted anyone else on the team had observed the same things he had, because his eidetic memory didn’t allow him to miss anything. The glances, the fond looks, the concern for her during cases, how his expression softened at her happiness, how he made sure that there was always a supply of chocolate pop tarts in the kitchenette at work, because Y/N often forgot to eat during cases and he knew the sweet treat would offer her at least some nutrition and a pick-me-up for the particularly hard days. 
Y/N didn’t know about any of it, and he’d considered telling her, but he knew she wouldn't believe him, and also it wasn’t his place to reveal. If Hotch wanted her to know, he’d tell her himself, he didn’t want to cause her any pain if he did reveal his observations only for Hotch to shoot it down and hurt her. He shook his head and focused on the briefing, reiterating some statistics on Florida.
He just hoped it all worked out for his friends. They deserved happiness.
//
A weary sigh left my lips as I wondered to my desk, eyeing the stack of paperwork and deciding to stay late and get it done; it was better than letting it build up to obscene levels. We’d just returned from Florida after ten days tracking a man who kidnapped families, held them for a week and then murdered them all. We’d managed to catch him before he killed the new family he’d abducted and I was beyond relieved, as was the rest of the team as we always were when we managed to save someone. 
I glanced over to my right, eyeing Emily’s tired eyes with a soft smile. She’d stayed behind to finish paperwork like I had, but I could tell she was about ten minutes away from passing out. Seeing as I’d already managed to finish the few I’d accumulated on my desk, I wheeled my chair over to her desk and snatched up her remaining six files. It would take me another hour and a half, but it was worth it if she’d go home to sleep.
‘Y/N, what are you doing?’ She yawned, pushing her chair away from her desk.
‘Go home, Em.’ I told her, my voice gentle but firm. I continued when I saw her hesitate, despite her desire to take me up on the offer, ‘I’m serious, go home and snuggle your cat. Get some sleep.’
‘Are you sure?’ She murmured, another yawn escaping her lips.
‘I’m sure. Get outta here.’ I winked, turning and hiding my own yawn in my fist as I placed her files on my desk.
‘Thanks Y/N. Love you.’ She hugged me from behind and left with a kiss to my cheek.
‘You better.’ I yelled after her, smiling at her tired laughter. 
I turned and started to work, I vaguely registered the elevator open and close as I filled in the report efficiently and quickly. I was determined to get through the remaining files before the exhaustion seeped in and took me over, too. I could feel it lingering in the back of my mind, just waiting to strike, but I hoped my concentration and the coffee I was drinking would hold it off long enough for me to finish. I also put Taylor Swift’s new album ‘Folklore’ on shuffle quietly in the back ground, hoping to prevent the empty floor freaking me out for as long as possible. 
I was humming along with my tears ricochet as I signed the last file, tossing it onto the separate finished pile for Emily. I placed them back onto her desk and sat back down at mine, yawning as I turned off the music and just took a moment to relax. Of course in hindsight, that was a mistake, because I was exhausted and vulnerable to sleep. I didn't remember my head falling to rest on top of my arms, nor did I remember closing my eyes, but the next thing I knew was a large, warm hand on my lower back, gently rubbing back and forth to carefully rouse me from sleep.
‘Hotch?’ I murmured, my voice thick with sleep as I blinked, trying to wake myself properly. I looked down to my watch and saw the time: 2:45am, the last time I’d looked it had been 1am. 
‘You should go home and get some sleep.’ He said, his voice gentle as he rubbed my back once more before moving away.
‘Yeah.’ I agreed, standing and stretching, a yawn leaving my mouth as I did, ‘what about you?’
‘I’m heading home now.’ He assured me, a small fond smile on his lips.
‘Okay.’ I offered him a grateful smile as he helped my uncoordinated, still partially unconscious self pull my jacket on. 
‘Did you get my cookies?’ I wondered as we stood in the elevator that would take us to the parking garage.
‘I did.’ He smiled again, his eyes sparkling with that soft emotion again. I found myself returning the gesture, hoping he didn’t notice the flush that had most definitely formed on my cheeks.
‘Good.’ I said eventually, my brain apparently incapable of coming up with anything better as I leaned back against the wall, too exhausted to stand properly.
‘Jack will love the Spider-Man cookies. He’s still massively obsessed with him, I’m sure he’ll be his Halloween costume this year.’ Hotch mused, a small smile on his face as he spoke of his son. 
People always assumed because Hotch was so authoritative and serious at work, that he wasn’t capable of smiling ever. But that wasn’t the case, sometimes his humour did find a way to integrate itself at work, but whenever a case was over, he became much more relaxed and smiled a lot easier as the responsibility from his job eased from his shoulders for a little while. What I didn’t know, was that he never relaxed around anyone else as much as he did around me.
‘I don’t know.’ I pursed my lips to hide my knowing smile, ‘Jack might have already mentioned what he was going to dress up as for Halloween this year last week over the family picnic.’
Hotch had invited the team to spend some time at the park with him and Jack. Garcia had insisted on turning it into a picnic, and had insisted on my help for preparing the food, seeing as I’d been preparing meals for Hotch, and sometimes Jack, for months now so I knew what they would like. It had been a huge success, and I had been reminded again what an amazing father Aaron was to Jack, he was an amazing kid. 
‘Really, what’s that?’ He asked, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
‘Sorry, I’m sworn to secrecy.’ I winked and then blushed immediately after when I remembered exactly who I was winking at. I cleared my throat, ‘but something tells me you’ll love it.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ His voice became soft as his eyes stared into mine, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was talking about something else.
I was as powerless to look away from him as I always was, he had this captivating aura around him, this powerful personality that you couldn't help but submit to. Or maybe it was just me who felt his bewitchment so strongly because of my additional feelings for him. Either way, he didn’t look away from me until the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival to the parking garage. Even then, it took him a moment longer and I found myself wondering what he saw when he looked at me that made him so reluctant to break eye contact. When he did, look away, I became aware of how fast my heart was beating, how erratic my breath had become and as I walked to my car I was overcome with embarrassment, because it was something that wouldn’t have escaped his notice. 
‘Goodnight, Y/N.’ He didn’t speak above his usual volume, but it was easy to hear him in the near empty garage.
‘Goodnight, Sir.’ I replied, climbing into my car and taking a deep breath, before turning on my car and driving away.
//
When Foyet had attacked Hotch, I had been the one to track him down at the hospital. I had refused to leave his side while I waited for him to wake up, tears trailing uncontrollably down my face as I took in his weakened state. I’d hated seeing him so pale, so vulnerable, and when the rest of the team had been informed after the new case had been solved, so had they. It had been awful, even more so when he woke and immediately went into profiler mode. He discovered that Hayley and Jack were in danger and ordered for them to be taken into protective custody before he passed out again. I’d stayed while the team went to retrieve them both, holding his hand until he regained consciousness. 
‘Hey,’ he murmured, his dark eyes on mine. I went to remove my hand from his, but he tightened his grip and prevented me from doing so. I saw the soft look in his eyes again and relaxed my grip, looking down to hide my tears.
‘Hey.’ I replied, realising I’d said nothing in response to his greeting. I winced when I heard how rough my voice was, a sure sign I’d been crying.
‘You’ve been crying.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact.
‘Only Aaron Hotchner would be profiling from his hospital bed.’ I teased, my heart feeling a little lighter at the amusement that formed on his expression.
‘Not profiling, just paying attention.’ He said, his voice low and weak and it made my heart hurt.
‘Of course I’ve been crying, you’re in a hospital bed, I walked into your apartment to find blood on the floor, and found you here with multiple stab wounds.’ I frowned, the images replaying themselves through my brain.
‘Hey.’ He squeezed my hand and my gaze returned to his, his dark eyes soft and reassuring, ‘I’m okay, Y/N. A little beat up, but I’m going to live and that’s all that matters.’
I started into his eyes for a long moment before nodding. That’s all that matters. He was right of course, but we both knew the only reason that was true, was because Foyet wasn’t finished with him yet, he wanted to watch him fall apart without his son and ex-wife in his life. But I refused to even think about that, because we were going to find him, and until we did, the whole team would be there for him. We wouldn't let him lose himself like the previous detective Foyet made a deal with had. 
‘I’m really glad you’re alive.’ I admitted with a whisper, my eyes glazing over with tears, and I knew that my eyes were essentially an open book in that moment, my guards had crumbled to rubble over the past twenty four hours. I knew he could see just how relieved I was that he was okay, as his eyes glimmered with that unidentifiable emotion again as he squeezed my hand, telling me he was glad too.
My hand stayed grasped in his until Hayley and Jack arrived. 
//
When we found Foyet, it hadn’t been before he’d managed to track down Hayley and Jack. Without a doubt, it had been the hardest case any of us had to work, hearing Hayley tell Hotch goodbye before we heard the gunshots that told us she’d been murdered. We all raced to the house to find Hotch beating Foyet beyond his death, not letting up until I placed a hand on his shoulder, the soft touch making him pause immediately.
‘He’s gone, Hotch.’ I murmured, squeezing his shoulder as he sobbed, ‘where’s Jack?’
‘Jack.’ He sobbed, jerking up from the ground and sprinting upstairs. I followed him, knowing he wouldn’t want Jack to see him the way he was, covered in blood, long enough to ask questions.
He ran to his office, falling to his knees next to the window seat and lifting it up to reveal a smiling and proud Jack.
‘I worked the case, daddy!’ He cheered as Aaron lifted him from inside the seat before pulling the lid back down.
‘You did a good job, buddy.’ He smiled through his tears, gripping his sons shoulders and kissing his forehead.
Prentiss stepped into the room behind me, her eyes soft with sympathy and heartbreak— the same look held in everyone’s eyes in that moment.
‘Hey Jack, why don’t we leave your daddy to clean up, huh? I’ll take you downstairs and you can play with the sirens in the car.’ Prentiss said, forcing her tone to appear cheery.
‘Can I daddy?’ Jack pleaded, his smile bright.
‘Of course buddy,’ Aaron said, squeezing his sons shoulder once more before Jack darted to Prentiss. She took his hand and led him from the room.
I didn’t remember moving to kneel in front of him, but I suddenly was, my arms wrapping around his neck as his head rested onto my shoulder. I held him as he sobbed, his tears trailing down my neck and shoulder, my hands moved comfortingly through his hair as he held me in a rib breaking grip. I held him until his throat was raw from crying, until his tears dried up, until he felt strong enough to pull away from my hold. At that point, no one had stepped into the room. I assumed the team had deduced that Aaron would need some time, and had kept everyone away knowing Hotch would hate anyone to see him vulnerable.
‘I’m so sorry, Hotch.’ I murmured, my eyes glazed over with tears at the sight of his pain.
‘I know.’ I could see the small spark of gratitude in his eyes among the pain, the grief, the worry, ‘we should clean up.’
I frowned at his use of ‘we’ until I glanced down and saw that I was covered in blood too; it must have transferred over as I comforted him. I nodded and took the hand he offered me to help me from the floor. He led moved to the small closet in the corner— I assumed he kept clothes in his office during his marriage to Hayley to avoid disturbing her if he got called into a case at odd hours of the morning. He pulled out a shirt and dress pants for himself before turning to me.
‘I think Hayley still has some clothes here.’ He said and it took me a second to understand what he meant. When I did I shook my head, almost a little to vigorously, but I couldn’t help it, wearing her clothes, when she was lying dead in the other room just didn’t seem right. 
Hotch nodded in understanding, handing me a plain grey T-shirt that obviously belonged to him. I wondered into the en-suite, taking off my vest and unbuttoning my blouse before tugging the shirt over my head, tying it in a knot at my waist to make it more form fitting. I then washed my forearms and hands, watching the water run a light pink as I scrubbed away the blood. A few tears fell while I worked, but I forced myself to get it under control before I left the bathroom— this wasn’t about me, it wasn’t acceptable for me to fall apart right then. When I emerged from the bathroom, Aaron entered. As I waited for him to return I took deep and even breaths to keep myself in control of my emotions. While none of the team had been particularly close to Hayley, we all loved her because she’d loved Aaron, our leader, the man we looked up to, the man we trusted to make the tough decisions. And so, his grief, his loss was going to be felt by the entire team. I couldn’t even imagine how this was going to effect Jack, who was young enough to potentially not understand that his mom was never coming home. 
I wiped away my tears and cleared my throat as the door opened and Hotch joined me in his office. I could see the concern in his eyes so I must have looked bad. I felt myself shake my head, amazed that even while he was feeling the worst pain he’d ever felt, he still took notice and cared about those around him.
‘Come on, you should get to Jack before he drives the neighbours insane with those sirens.’ I managed a smile that became more genuine at his breathy laugh as we walked down the stairs.
Everything was going to be okay, I’d make sure of it.
//
It had been six months since Hayley’s passing and life was starting to form a new normal for all of us. The team all offered their help once him and Jack had settled into his apartment. Aaron had respectfully declined, insisting he wanted to find out and adjust to being a single parent without the help. We all acknowledged his wishes, but made a point of us all going on a day trip at any available opportunity— that ended up being once a month. 
Despite what he said, I continued to bring in prepared meals to work, more often than before and always for him and Jack, knowing that the last thing he’d have the energy for when he got home would be cooking. Plus, this meant he had more time to spend with his son before he tucked him in, and well I didn’t need to explain why that was a plus. He thanked me gratefully every time, and after a few months, he started inviting me over for dinner with him and Jack at least once a week. Sometimes it would be on one of our rare days off, or it would be after a long case before we started a new one the next day. Either way those dinners became the highlight of my week, primarily because of the company; I loved seeing Hotch relaxed and happy, which he always was around Jack, and I loved hearing Jack’s endless stories about school, or the imaginary world he’d created in one of his drawings. At first the domesticity of the gatherings threw me for a loop, but I continually reminded myself that I was there as a friend and nothing more until it sunk in. And so, we settled into a comfortable routine where I was blissfully ignoring the way my love for him only seemed to grow deeper the more time I spent with him. How was I to know that it was all going to go up in flames?
It was any other Monday morning as I rode the elevator up to the BAU floor, but when I stepped out and noticed everyone already gathered around the conference table, a bad feeling started to form in my gut. I dropped my jacket and purse off at my desk before heading into the room, not liking the way everyone’s eyes turned to me.
‘Am I late?’ I frowned, sliding into my usual seat in between Reid and JJ.
‘No, you’re right on time.’ Rossi assured me, his eyes flickering over to Aaron.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, noticing there weren’t any files in front of anyone that would indicate a new case.
‘Johnathan Rivers is going to be put to death next week.’ Hotch started, and I felt myself tense at the name, ‘he’s revealed that there are more victims we didn’t even know he’d taken. He’s offered to reveal their names and locations in exchange for something.’ He continued when I didn’t ask, ‘he wants to be interviewed by you and me.’
‘Why?’ I couldn’t fathom why he would want Hotch there. Me I could understand— I was the victim that got away, he probably wanted to taunt me with details of what he’d done to the other women we hadn’t saved, to torture me with the guilt and knowledge of what I’d escaped when so many others hadn’t.
‘I don’t know.’ Aaron admitted, knowing that I wasn’t asking about me, but I got the feeling he wasn’t being completely truthful when his eyes darted from mine after he spoke, ‘if you don’t want to do this, I understand.’
‘Of course I don’t want to do this.’ I huffed a laugh, but it was void of humour, ‘but I’m not going to put me being uncomfortable above providing families with closure. When do we leave?’
He studied my expression for what felt like a long moment before he nodded and dismissed us with, ‘wheels up in ten. The rest of the team will remain behind to assist on any cases that come in.’
Everyone nodded and stood from the table. I headed for the bathroom, needing a moment to compose myself before I grabbed my go back from underneath my desk. I ran my hands underneath the cool water, taking a deep breath and trying to keep the memories from the forefront of my mind. 
His sadistic smile. His hands running over my body. Not being able to move to stop him. No. Stop it. Get off me. 
My breath caught in my throat and I braced my hands on the sink, ignoring the tears falling down my cheeks in favour of getting my breathing under control. If I didn’t I was going to hyperventilate and have a panic attack. But that knowledge didn’t help, it only seemed to make the invisible noose around my neck grow tighter and I fell to my knees, my vision becoming spotty and the shallow breaths I took feeling like fire in my throat. 
‘Y/N.’ I’d know that authoritative voice anywhere, but at the moment I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I felt his hand envelop my right, squeezing it tightly as he continued, ‘you need to take deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Match your breathing to mine.’ His voice was low, commanding and impossible to ignore, as he took his breaths I tried my best to mirror him, encouraged as he whispered soft reassurances to me whenever a deep breath broke into several shallow, panicked breaths. I don’t know how long he stayed there with me for, my hand in his, whispering encouragements and continually reminding me to match my breathing to his, but eventually I regained control and a long, relieved sigh left me when I realised it was over.
My forehead fell against his shoulder, exhaustion falling over me as I soaked his suit jacket with my tears. I hated panic attacks. They sucked, in truth I’d forgotten just how much. Hotch’s hand stroked my hair while the other rubbed soothing circles into my lower back. He never once complained, never gave the impression that he was getting impatient with how long it was taking me to pull myself together. 
But when I did lift my head from his shoulder, my hands resting on the tops of his muscled arms for support the first words I said were, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’ His eyes were sincere and reassuring, and I felt the tension in my chest ease a little.
I nodded, my head falling back to his shoulder. In the back of my mind I knew there was no need for me to still be clinging to him like this, that we were shifting more towards inappropriate behaviour the longer he held me in his arms, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, and seeing as he wasn’t in a hurry to pull away I didn't either. We stayed there for a few minutes longer but the moment was broken when his phone started to ring in his suit jacket. I reluctantly pulled back and stood with him as he pulled out the device and answered it.
‘Hotchner.’ He said, his voice slipping back into his usual stern work tone.
I tuned out of the conversation, wiping my cheeks and running some cold water over my face. I didn't have my bag with me so I couldn’t apply fresh make up to make my face look less tear stained, which was frustrating but it was what it was. I blotted my face dry and offered Hotch a reassuring smile as he examined my expression once again.
‘I’m fine.’ I told him once he’d hung up the phone.
‘Are you sure? When I said you didn’t have to do this, I meant it.’ He murmured, his eyes softening with sincerity.
‘I know you did, but I meant it when I said I wouldn’t put my discomfort above giving families closure.’ I sighed, gesturing towards the door, ‘we should get going.’
He nodded, guiding me from the room with a hand hovering above my lower back. I grabbed my go bag and purse from my desk, relieved the rest of the team was in the conference room again, most likely being briefed on another case. If they’d seen me in my current state, I was sure I’d have more people to convince that I was up to this. 
We boarded the jet, taking one of the double seats next to each other. We spent most of the flight in silence, Hotch spent time going over the past cases, but I couldn't bring myself to, worried seeing what he’d done to those other women would trigger a panic attack. I took time to properly pull myself together, knowing I couldn’t sit across from a psychopath anything less than guarded and prepared. By the time the jet’s wheels touched down on the tarmac, I was ready to face him.
//
‘It’s nice to see you again.’ His smile was the same, it still sent a slither of discomfort down my spine, but I refused to let it show on my face.
‘We’re here as you requested, now give us the names and locations of the victims we missed.’ Hotch said, I could see him out of my peripheral vision, he was sat straight, quietly confident and his tone was stern. But Rivers hadn’t stopped staring at me, and I wasn’t about to break first.
‘Names,’ Hotch prompted after a moment, his tone hardening.
He finally looked away and I took in the smug upturn of his lips and the malice that glittered in his eyes. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
‘I’ll tell you what you want to know.’ His eyes flickered to me again, and when Aaron cleared his throat to attract his gaze, the smile that grew on his face was that of a sharks, ‘if you tell me something first.’
‘What do you want to know?’ He asked, a confused frown forming on his face.
‘What I would like to know is how you function so well as a team when you’re clearly in love with one another.’ He said and I felt my blood run cold. Of all the ways I’d pictured Hotch finding out about my feelings for him, this was most definitely not on the top ten list.
Neither of us spoke, and he took that as a sign to continue as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed arrogantly against his chest, ‘I noticed the night you arrested me. While I was cuffed and led away by your brawny agent you rushed over to her. Now love is not something I understand myself but I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically on the two of you that night. The way you held her, the way she relaxed with your arms around her, the way you refused to leave her alone and carried her over to the ambulance when she passed out.’
I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically the two of you that night.
Specifically the two of you that night.
The two of you.
He didn’t mean... did he?
I banished that train of thought before it could run away from me. Rivers didn’t know what he was talking about, he just wanted to rile us up, to exert the minimal control he still had to play with us and feel some form of accomplishment. I took a breath and leaned back in my seat, making a show of rolling my eyes. I’d be damned if I was going to let this psycho see just how well he’d pin pointed and played on my insecurities. 
‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ I examined my nails, knowing not giving him my full attention would play on his superiority complex. Like I said, most domineering personalities were arrogant and incredibly narcissistic— Johnathan Rivers possessed that particular characteristic in spades, ‘but the way I feel for Agent Hotchner is no different than how I feel for the rest of my team. I love them all and they’re like family to me. Now I don’t know what you think you witnessed, but I assure you, your assumptions are false.’
I leaned forward to look him in the eyes and when he suddenly jolted forward, to make a grab for me, I refused to flinch and continued to meet his eye. I felt Hotch lean forward too, slamming his hand onto the metal table and once again demanding the names.
‘What’s the matter Agent Hotchner? Nervous about sharing your own feelings on the subject?’ He asked, but chuckled at Aaron’s dark glare, ‘fine. Wendy Grooves, Sarah Jones, Victoria McMillan and Melinda Hewitt. All of them can be found buried underneath concrete in the basement of the house I owned. I had to move the dumping site when I ran out of room.’
Without another word Hotch and I stood, so simultaneous that it was almost as if we planned it, and strode from the room. He pulled out his phone to call Morgan to put together an extraction team to recover the bodies that we’d been given. We both headed for the jet afterwards, neither of us wanting to stay any longer there than we had to. I could feel the tension that crackled between us and how it seemed to intensify the longer we didn't talk. As much as I hated it, I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, and so we stayed quiet until Hotch shifted in his seat across from me half way through our flight. 
‘We should talk.’ He said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, and when I looked up into his eyes I could see his hesitation along with that ever present soft emotion.
‘Okay.’ I reluctantly agreed, taking a deep breath and steeling myself for rejection, ‘I’ve been in love with you—.’
‘I know how you feel about me, Y/N.’ He cut me off, continuing when I blinked in confusion, ‘I had my suspicions before, but when I heard you talking to Reid almost a year ago, that confirmed it.’
‘You heard me.’ I repeated, feeling embarrassment swirling in my gut, ‘why didn’t you say anything?’
‘Because at the time, I was still dealing with getting over Hayley, and then she...’ he trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment, ‘then she died and I didn’t realise how much time had passed. And I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure I was ready to move on, until I was sure I could be completely invested in the relationship and not feeling guilty for moving on and being happy.’
I couldn’t believe my ears. The way he was talking it sounded like... like he had feelings for me too?
‘But I am ready to move on, Y/N. If you’re still willing to give me a chance?’ He asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, the most prominent being hope. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and taking his hands in mine.
‘I am absolutely sure I want to give you a chance, Aaron.’ I murmured, his following smile was contagious.
He leaned forward, his hands pulling away from mine to caress my face, gently wiping away the happy tears that fell down my cheeks. His forehead fell against mine, and I knew he was giving me the chance to pull away, to change my mind, and when I didn’t he leaned forward and sealed his mouth over mine. The kiss started off tentative, as all first kisses did, and when we’d become more familiar with one another, his hand lifted to my hair as he deepened the kiss. My hands slid into his midnight locks, enjoying the softness and tugging on the strands. I felt a groan vibrate in his chest and he pulled me closer, both of his hands lifting me by my waist and onto his lap. One hand trailed down my back, the other fell to the side of my neck, his thumb moving back and forth over my pulse point. Before the kiss could deepen any further, we reluctantly pulled apart, our lungs in dire need of oxygen. Our foreheads rested against each other, our erratic breath mingling as we worked to get it under control. Once we’d recovered more, he placed a chaste kiss to my lips, then my nose, then each eye lid before finishing with my forehead. I chuckled breathlessly, my heart picking up again, as his hands rested on my cheeks and he stared at me with that soft emotion again. Only now I could see what it was, now that my mind wasn’t clouded with fear of misinterpretation. It was love. 
‘We have some things we need to discuss.’ He murmured after a while, ever the boss.
‘I know.’ My hand covered his left on my cheek, shifting it so I could kiss his palm before I entwined our fingers together.
‘I don’t think we should tell the team right away, while we figure things out and get into our own rhythm without having to worry about being over assessed when they know.’ He said, his other hand moved through my hair, a smile forming on his lips when I leaned into his touch, ‘and we’ll have to file a relationship form with Strauss.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ And it did, hearing him talk about what we would need to do once we’d found dynamic as a couple, made it seem more real and long lasting. 
After that, we didn’t talk much, and I didn’t move from his lap. My head rested against his shoulder, my face nuzzled into his neck. His hand moved through my hair while his other held a case file that he was reading, apparently it was one JJ had asked for a second opinion on. I didn’t remember exactly when I fell asleep, but the last thought that ran though my mind was one word.
Safe.
// 
It was three weeks later that Aaron and I went on our first date. We’d spent time together in between of course, but we’d only had the odd day off since and that time was meant for Jack, which I understood. I loved the little guy so if spending time with Aaron meant spending time with Jack too, it was hardly a hardship and more of a blessing. Which is why I didn’t push for us to have our first date, knowing that he cared for me as I cared for him practically had me walking on air. But when he asked me out to dinner and a movie, and told me that Jack was with is aunt for the night, I found myself feeling nervous with butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I’d dressed in a form fitting slinky dark purple body con dress, paired with some black flats. I’d curled my hair and clipped it back so it fell down the centre of my back, my make up was light and I was wearing lip balm over lipstick— I didn’t want to have to worry about topping it up throughout the night. 
His knock at the door made the butterflies swarm again and I opened the door with a smile. I felt my eyes dilate with attraction as I took him in— he was wearing his usual dress shoes and pants, but the way he wore his shirt made me want to drool. It was pale blue, his top two buttons were undone, allowing me to spy some chest hair, and his cuffs were rolled up to his forearms. I couldn't help the way my gaze lingered on the veins that protruded from his arms, and when I finally managed to meet his eyes again I noticed they were alight with attraction and pleasure at my reaction to him. 
‘You look...gorgeous.’ I said, for lack of a better word. His smile grew on his lips as he reached forward, taking my hand in his. My free hand fell to his forearm, running along his veins and enjoying the softness of his skin.
‘Thank you, honey.’ He murmured, his hand moving to the side of my face, his thumb moving over my cheekbone, ‘you look breath taking.’
I blushed at the compliment, placing a kiss to his palm in thanks. As I grabbed my keys and my card wallet, I realised I hadn’t grabbed a bag to carry them in, before I could Aaron took them from my hands and placed them in his back pocket with a wink that made my heart skip a beat.
As we walked to the elevator, he told me about how Jack had taken his FBI badge into school for show and tell, without telling him about it first. He’d worried that he’d misplaced it, or left it in Detroit— the last place we’d gone to for a case—until Jack had come home and told his dad about his day. He’d told him he shouldn’t take things without asking, but he’d been more touched than mad. 
When we arrived at the restaurant, we sat next to one another in the privacy of a booth, eating Italian food and drinking wine. We spent the night basking in each other’s company, sharing stories, laughing and deciding to order dessert when we realised we’d lost track of time and missed the movie. But I didn’t mind, I preferred it actually instead of being in a place where we couldn’t share conversation. We stayed until an apologetic waiter told us they were closing and asked us to leave. And we drove back to his apartment, his hand entwined with mine and his other on the steering wheel as music from the radio played quietly. 
‘Jack has a play date tomorrow morning, so Jessica won’t be bringing him home until the afternoon.’ Hotch murmured to me as we stepped into his apartment.
‘Oh really, so no early start tomorrow?’ I grinned, a sigh of contentment leaving me as his hands rested on my waist.
‘Which is good, because when I’m through with you, I think you’ll need your rest to recover.’ He spoke quietly against the skin of my throat in between kisses. 
There was no arrogance in his voice, he was confident but quietly so, and I assumed he had a reason to be. He wasn’t the kind of man who was self assured without knowing it to be true.
‘Hmm... I think you’re all talk, Hotchner.’ I teased, but it was rendered pointless as a quiet moan left my throat when his lips latched onto the sensitive spot behind my ear.
He chuckled against my skin, not bothering to respond as my behaviour had already told him everything he needed to know. My hands wound in his hair as his lips continued their exploration, grateful for his grip on my lower back, as without the support I was sure my knees would have buckled. My head fell against the back of the front door as my breathing became erratic, while his lips trailed over my collarbone and down between the valley of my breasts. His hand slid the thin strap down my arm, and allowing him to move the fabric of my dress and close his mouth around my nipple. I moaned, feeling myself grow hotter as his hand moved down my legs, slipping under the satin fabric and trailing up my bare leg and stopping behind my knee. He lifted my right leg to hook around his waist, and then did the same with my left, his lips never stopping in their pleasurable torment on my chest. I barely noticed him carrying me to his bedroom, until my back was met with the cool temperature of his sheets. His lips returned to mine, the kiss full of passion, lust and when our tongues met, a battle for dominance that he won with minimal effort.
As we became lost in each other, as he moved inside of me, as he whispered praises and encouragements in my ear, as we reached our climaxes together, I found myself fall that little bit more in love with him. Because, he was gentle, he took care of me and my desires, and he found pleasure in doing so, just as I knew he would. 
Much later, as we both lay back to regather our breath and exhaustion overcame me, I found myself thinking— there was no way us being together would feel so natural, so right, if we weren’t meant to be. And in that moment, I knew we were. 
Aaron Hotchner was my soulmate. 
A/N: This came to me after I read of terrible coffee and late night rides by @venusbarnes​ It’s absolutely wonderful and if you haven’t read it yet, and like Aaron Hotchner imagines, you can find it on their Masterlist. Trust me, you’ll love it. 
I hope ya’ll liked this one, I know it’s long, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stop. Whoops.
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hotchley · 3 years
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that’s okay
Oh my god it’s out before midnight!! Are you proud of me?? Once again, it has not been proofread, but that’s fine, this is for fun! Also, the same line where Aaron says he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore is also where I lost the plot so erm... yeah
Once again: little plot. Not much point. Low-key hate the ending. May have fucked up Hotch’s character. But I had fun writing it so we’re just... yeah we’re going with.
Title comes from That’s Okay by The Hush Sound (would 10/10 recommend), and I have to thank Caitlin ( @themetaphorgirl ) for that one because I was sat there like: I have everything but a title and then I remembered That’s Okay and was like AHA
Trigger Warnings: trauma, trauma responses, child abuse, religion, religious trauma
read on ao3!
When he finishes his speech, he meets Erin's eyes, determined and angry. At her, for pushing him and doubting his abilities in the one place he felt like he could maintain control in. At Jason, for once again putting him in a situation where he has to take the fall and piece things back together. Because he has to play this stupid game of politics. At the team, because it is easy. 
But most of all, he is angry at himself because he shouldn't be angry at them. He shouldn't be angry at Jason or Erin. He shouldn't be angry, because anger means he's creeping closer and closer to the line that separates himself from his father and if he goes too far, he will lose everything and he won't be able to come back. Ever.
"Aaron," she says, and his glare loses its power. She says his name, his first name, like it means something. With a gentleness that he had never felt before Haley softly repeated it to herself, as though she was trying to test out each syllable before she got too close.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "That comment about your son was unfair. I know you love them all equally."
She shakes her head. "Don't apologise. You know I don't enjoy doing this. Undermining you like this. Asking these questions, saying these things. But if we are both going to keep our jobs, then I have to."
At that moment, she is not Strauss. She is Erin, just another victim of bureau politics, trying to keep her head above water. It's what causes Aaron to reply, instead of just walking out.
"I know," he says. "I know."
"Why don't you ever let Jason take the fall for his mistakes? I'm not an idiot, I know these things aren't your doing. He's a grown man. He can accept the consequences that come with acting the way he does. You don't need to take them."
She doesn't understand. He does. He needs to take them because taking punishment is the only way he can atone for the multitude of sins he commits every single day. He needs to take the blame because he is the only one that can come back from it. The only one that can be replaced with ease. 
He needs to take the blame because it reminds him that this, just like everything he has been stripped of in his life- his childhood, his ability to love, his warmth, his innocence, his faith in both something else and humanity- this can and will be taken from him the moment he puts a foot wrong.
The Bureau, much like the small town in Virginia that he will never refer to as home because he never once felt safe, not even when Haley held him with gentle and unblemished hands, does not show anyone mercy. Least of all those that dare to speak out against injustice.
"I do. Jason Gideon is nothing without the BAU. I can't take that from him," he says. 
He hates to be vulnerable with her, but she is the only one left that he truly trusts. That remembers the boy he was when he first joined. That knows the lock on his drawer is not because there is alcohol, but because he keeps the file with his incomplete profile of George Foyet in there.
"And you?" she asks.
"And I?" 
"What are you without the BAU?"
And isn't that the question he wishes he knew the answer to? He is not a father, he knows that much. A real father wouldn't have hesitated to transfer after Jason returned. A real father would kiss their son goodnight without feeling guilty and hug them without fear. And he is not a husband. On a technicality, he is, but even he can see that Haley isn't happy. The day where she leaves will be sooner rather than later, and he will be powerless to stop her.
A part of him doesn't want to fight. It will be easier on both of them if she leaves before the inevitable happens. Before the pieces of himself he gives up to do this job become irretrievable. Before he is more than just his father's mirror, he is his father's son. 
Before the job he is nothing without ruins her life beyond repair.
"I don't know," he confesses. In some strange way, he feels like a child again. Being asked by the priest what he thinks his punishment for lying about what really happens in the Hotchner family home should be, even though he wasn't lying. He was never lying. They were all just too afraid to confront the truth.
The same way he was.
"Get some rest. I'll speak to the Director and other higher-ups. You'll have a job to come back to. I promise."
It is an impossible promise, one she may not be able to keep, but her tone is gentle and her words soothe him the way a parents' declarations of love never had, so he simply nods and exits her office. 
He doesn't look at any of the team when he gets back to his office. He doesn't bother to knock on Jason's door to make sure he isn't looking through the Book of the Damned. When Derek calls his name, he speeds up, knowing that out of all of them, he owes him the most answers, but finds himself completely unable to give them.
Haley doesn't know that he is returning. He doesn't have the energy to tell her. As he turns onto their road, he is almost tempted to keep going. Past their house. Past her sister's apartment. Past her parents' house and his father's grave. Past everything that keeps him grounded.
The idea of giving into temptation was something drilled out of him long ago. So he turns into their driveway, wondering what the neighbours will say when one of them inevitably moves out. Will they find it sad, that the young couple they had all hoped would last, had fallen apart? Will they wonder what the final straw was?
Haley is still in her work clothes when he enters the living room. She had already picked Jack up from his daycare on her way back, and her son- as far as he's concerned, he's nothing more than the sperm donor- babbles away happily as he plays with the toys his mother and aunt had picked out for him on their last day out together.
"You're back early," she says, without any malice. 
"Strauss told me to get some rest," he replies. "How are the students?"
She smiles at the mention of her class. "Glad to have me back. Excited for your next Southern treat, because no matter how many times I tell them I also lived in that town, they only want it if you made it."
"Well you moved there for your junior year, so I can understand why," he jokes, but instead of wiping away the bad memories of the case, it leaves him more exhausted than before.
"Aaron, what happened today?" she asks him, so attuned to his moods and feelings that he often wonders why she doesn't become a profiler.
"It's nothing," he tells her. No matter how many times she begs for him to tell her why he wakes up in the middle of the night, to share why he can't touch her without showering for a longer amount of time than can be healthy, he won't.
"You don't need to say specifics. But please don't lie to me."
"I'm sorry. I- can we eat first?"
Her mouth parts with shock. Of course they can eat first. She would do whatever was needed if it meant he would finally, after so many years of being married, tell her the truth about his job. She understood his need to keep it a secret. But when he came home, looking more defeated than he had at sixteen, she worried.
He puts Jack to sleep before climbing into bed beside her. She puts her book down- she hadn't really been reading it, just holding it to give her something to do- and turns so she's laying on her side. Absent-mindedly, she starts drawing circles on his stomach. His hand trembles as he removes it, placing it on the bed sheet.
"I profiled the team today," he begins.
Haley sits up properly. "I thought you had a rule against that."
"We do. But Erin… pushed. And before I knew what was happening I was sharing information about all of them. Things that- I don't know if they know that I know. And Erin is too good to use it to blackmail any of us but she isn't a profiler. They'll realise she knows."
"What did you tell her?" is all she says. She knows her husband. Knows how he takes everything personally, and how he will hold himself to unreachable standards because he was never allowed to be anything but perfect, and anything less than that is failure.
He tells her, in almost perfect verbatim, the same words he told Erin. Towards the end, his voice starts to get choked up. She knows he stutters when he feels under pressure or anxious and she knows he hates it. So instead of speaking, she takes his left hand, clasps it with both of hers and rubs circles over the knuckles.
For a moment, he stops speaking, staring at their interlocked hands instead with a look of slight wonder. Like even after all this time, he still couldn't believe he got to touch her. That she wanted to touch him, in spite of his devils and darkness.
It gives him the strength to finish.
"And you?" she asks, after it becomes clear he won't offer any more information as to why it hurt him so much.
Her question is an echo of Erin's, and he closes his eyes, giving himself a few moments to get lost in his head, where it is not necessarily safe, but is where he can be alone and not pretend to be good. 
"And I?"
"What did you say about yourself?"
"I said that if she could find someone better, then I wished her luck," he says, voice completely flat and monotone.
Haley tries to not be offended that he is speaking to her like she is an officer of the law, or a suspect, instead of her husband. "Why didn't you say more?"
"More?"
She nods. "You're feeling guilty because you profiled the team, but you didn't. You shared the pieces of them that make them human. That make them good agents and even better people. You didn't say anything like that about yourself. Why not?"
"Because I'm not like them. My trauma- I'm just not like the rest of the team, okay?"
"I know enough about trauma to know it affects every person differently, so I won't dispute that one. But if you're saying that you're not like the rest of your family, not team, then what are you like? Because from where I'm sitting, you are."
"I'm not," he repeats, growing slightly agitated.
She needs him to understand he is. "Aren't you?"
"No." this time, there is venom in his words. But it doesn't frighten her. It never has. The only time his words have such hatred injected into them is when he's afraid of himself. She's never been afraid of him. She never will be. Because to her, he is good. He is trying.
"How?" she pushes one last time.
And the dam explodes.
“I’m not soft! I’m not beautiful or kind or good or any of the things those stupid, stupid motivational quotes say! I’m not- I’m not like the others and all I want to know is why. Everyone else is good. They’re light and sweet and good. We’ve all been- we all have trauma. Why can’t I- why am I different? Why did mine make me violent and scared and- why can’t I move on?”
It was not what she was expecting. It was not what she thought he was going to say, and now she doesn't know what she is meant to do. She doesn't know how to piece him back together. Not this time. Not when his words are a confession he has been clinging to since the day he met Spencer.
"Aaron," she begins, for lack of other words to say.
"Don't," he cuts her off. "Please. Just don't. I can- I'll sleep in the guest room. You shouldn't have to deal with me when I'm like this."
"You're having a bad day. It's what I signed up to deal with," she says.
He shakes his head. "Not like this. Not like- Haley, what kind of father avoids his son the way I do because they're afraid? What kind of man doesn't know the difference between safety and happiness? How broken am I if my twenty-five year old subordinate can move on better than I can?"
"You're scared. You're a victim of child abuse. It's not- it's normal that you feel like this. I think. Aaron, I don't know. I don't know what kind of person this all makes you. But when I look at you, I see the man I married, the one so terrified of everything, thriving. I see someone that suffered atrocities that nobody should ever be put through fighting with everything they are, to break that cycle. I don't know how to make you feel better, but I vowed to be honest with you. And this is me doing that."
"You're the first person to tell me it wasn't my fault," he whispers. "Everyone else always said that I must've done something to deserve it."
"You were a child Aaron. You all were."
It was the wrong thing to say. 
"We were all children, but they're all better. They haven't closed themselves off. They- I see them, with their unfailing faith in humanity and it hurts. It physically hurts. What am I doing to them? What happens when the evil they see outweighs the goodness?"
"It's okay, Aaron," she laughs, because if she doesn't, she will cry and she will not do that. Not in this moment. "It's- the trauma and the hurt and the heartbreak doesn't always give you faith. It doesn't always make you a better person. Yes, they are still positive and happy and beautiful and good, but so are you. It's just buried somewhere. Because sometimes the trauma just hurts."
He stares at her eyes, and she sees the tears that had been threatening to fall since he got into the bed start to spill over. With one cautious hand, she wipes it away. She counts it as a win when he leans into the touch without flinching.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he whispers.
"That's the beautiful thing about love. We are all entitled to it. It's just about whether or not we'll take it."
"I don't know how to stop being so broken," he adds.
"You're not- people are not broken. Not ever. They are damaged by life and the terrible things that other people do, but they're never broken. Not beyond repair. Do you hear me? You are not broken. You never were. You were just hurt. But there are so many people that love you. That want to help you. All you have to do is ask."
"I know. I just- I wish he didn't have such a tight hold on me. I wish I could be more like Penelope. Or Derek. They're so beautiful, with their faith in love and goodness. Derek didn't have anyone. Not in the way I had you."
She didn't have to ask to know who he was talking about. "He was your father. Even despite everything, he took time off work when you had chicken pox and played with you when you were old enough to remember the snow."
"I know. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Do you think I'll always be like this? Cold and unapproachable and full of darkness?"
"The only people you are ever cold and unapproachable with is unsubs. Suspects. And there's nothing wrong with darkness. There's no light without it." she can't say anything more than that. Not without lying.
"You always know what to say," he says to her, hesitantly pulling her closer towards him.
She smiles. "It's because I love you."
His own smile fades, and he doesn't reply, instead brushing her hair off her face. She tries to not let it sting. The words had never been something said freely in his house. Never used to actually express love, only as a plea for mercy. There are a few minutes of silence, and she think he's finally fallen asleep. 
Then he speaks.
"Haley, what if I can't save them? I've already failed once. What if this, part of me, means the next time they need me, I can't be there? I can't save them?"
She thinks her answer over for a few minutes.
"Sometimes the way to save other people is to save ourselves. You need to save yourself first. But listen to me." 
She can tell he's fighting sleep now, so she speaks quickly.
"There is nothing wrong with you. Yes, you are flawed and you make mistakes, but that is because you are human. We all make mistakes. We are never perfect. You are not the only one to screw up. But this part of you-" she places a hand over his heart "-this part of you is not broken. It is not wrong or anything that you were led to believe it was. You are exactly what and where you need to be. And I love you for that."
"Do you promise?"
She swallows. "Of course I do." 
She's not entirely sure whether she's lying, but he drifts off with a smile, so she decides she doesn't care. There are certain lies she is willing to tell, if only so her husband has one night of peace.
Thinking of him as her husband is painful, because she knows it is only a matter of time before one of them snaps. Before this balance he has fought so hard to achieve topples like Jack's building blocks. She knows which way it will topple. She isn't angry.
But the balance hasn't toppled yet. It won't for a few weeks. So maybe it is wrong, but instead of pulling away, she lets herself hold her husband, the steady beating of his heart sending her to sleep.
She is right though. Even when she's no longer there, he knows she is right. That sometimes the pain is not poetic or character-building. Sometimes, it is just pain, and the only way forward is directly through it. It is not easy, but it is possible.
Everything is possible, so long as he lets himself feel without guilt.
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honey-andtea1889 · 4 years
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Battered and Bruised
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AN: Hello! This is my very first Spencer Reid blurb! I’m super excited to write this and I seriously hope you all enjoy it! My requests are open and ready for business, please don’t be afraid to ask! Xx
Summary: The BAU team gets called on a case in Omaha, Nebraska for kidnaps and murders of women around the city. When Y/N get taken, Spencer goes to the ends of his being to find her. 
Warnings: Violence, swearing, death, mention of rape, shit ton of fluff
Song: Battered and Bruised by Circa Waves 
---------------------------------------------
Mornings weren’t Y/N’s strong suit. Especially when it included waking up at 5:30 am because your boss calls you in on a case. She knew it was a serious case just because of the time and after the last case the team had finished, she knew she couldn’t be too upset. 
Y/N loved her job at the BAU. It was pretty much her who reason for living. She absolutely loved helping people and putting away criminals that don’t deserve any more than a kick of dust. Just the feeling of saving someone’s life made the job worth it. She always put her heart fully into every case that came up, making sure that every person that was found was safe and every bastard that would cause the victims pain would get every ounce of punishment they had coming to them. Y/N couldn’t think of doing anything else.
Her team made it even better. She got along with everyone. They were all so welcoming when she first joined the FBI, Y/N felt that these people, this wonderful team, was her family. 
Y/N soon made it to the BAU and went straight into the break room for some coffee. She ran into a very groggy, barely woken Derek Morgan. He smiled at her, sipping his morning brew. 
“Good Morning, Princess. How was your nap?” Derek asked as he chuckled. 
“About as good as it can get. Can’t believe we got called back in so quickly. Did Hotch tell you anything about today’s case?” Y/N asked. 
Derek shook his head. As far as they knew, no one was told about the case. Hotch had just called everyone in saying that it was an emergency. The two were soon joined by none other than David Rossi. He smiled as he made himself a cup of coffee, sighing at the time. 
“One of these days, I’m just not going to answer my phone.” Rossi grumbled. 
The three of them laughed. Derek and Rossi made their way to the briefing room while Y/N fixed herself another cup of coffee. A loud groan echoed through the hall, and you knew who that belonged to. Dr. Spencer Reid came into sight as he trudged over to the coffee machine, smiling a tired smile at Y/N. 
Spencer and Y/N had a weird relationship. It was evident that the two of them had feelings for one another, but neither of them acknowledged them. There were times where Y/N wished she had the courage to just walk up to Spencer and ask him out, but she could never convince herself to do it. Spencer was the same way. He thought she was so beautiful and smart. He felt so comfortable around her and just being in the same room as her was a gift in itself, he just didn't know how to ask without making a fool of himself. Everyone on the team could feel the romantic tension between the pair and it killed them. Spencer couldn’t could how many times Derek had mentioned it to him that he should ‘make a move before someone else does.’ 
“Whoever allowed anything to be done before 11:30 in the morning is psychotic.” Spencer grumbled, pouring coffee into a mug. 
“I hear ya, but Hotch sounded pretty serious on the phone. We should probably get up there.” Y/N sighed. 
The two made it into the briefing room, Penelope setting everything up for the team. Spencer took a seat next to Y/N, smiling at her as he took his first coffee sip of the day. Prentiss, JJ, and Hotch soon flew into the room as Penelope began explaining the case. 
“Three women were found dead in ditches all around Omaha, Nebraska. Jenna Lender, 25, was our latest victim. She was last seen yesterday morning, getting coffee for her boss. Jenna’s boss tried calling her after noticing she was gone longer than she needed to be but got nothing.” Penelope said as she clicked through the presentation. 
“How long did the unsub keep the other victims alive?” Emily asked. 
“That’s the thing, all of the girls were only alive for a day. once he was finished with one, the unsub would spend a week hunting for a new woman.” Hotch says. 
“He stays in the same area, he’s got a comfort zone.” Spencer said, eyeing the file in front of him. 
“He obviously doesn’t have a type, the women are all different. The only thing that is connecting them is their age.” Y/N said. 
“And their jobs. All of the girls worked at the same company just different departments. It looks like the building is downtown, did they know each other?” JJ asked.
“No, its a huge company. Jenna worked on the 23rd floor in Accounting, Sierra on the 12th floor in Marketing, and Marie on the 33rd as an assistant to the CEO.” Penelope said as she clicked on her tablet. 
“Are we looking at the CEO of this company? Maybe he’s got something to do with it?” Derek questioned. 
“No, he’s got a trustful alibi.” 
“Whoever it is, we need to find him before he kills again. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said, gathering the files to head out to the jet. 
The team gathered their things and boarded the plane. Everyone was slowly dozing off in their seats while Y/N and Spencer stayed up and talked about the little things. They did this every so often. Whenever they had a long trip, the pair would sit closer to the back and just talk. They never had a set conversation, the topic was always changing. Y/N loved that. 
“No way, you can’t possibly think that Stephan King outranks Edgar Allan Poe.” Spencer laughed. 
Y/N shrugged and smiled at the genius to her right. 
“Don’t get me wrong, I love Edgar, but something about King’s writing just hits a little on the different side.” She said as she sipped on her coffee. 
Spencer studied Y/N. He took in her features, her beautiful Y/E/C eyes, her gorgeous smile, intoxicating laugh. He became so enthralled by her beauty, he didn’t realize that the plane had landed and the team were departing the aircraft. Y/N noticed his staring and blushed. Now wasn't the time to flirt though. They had a job to do. 
“Alright, Prentiss and Morgan, I want you two at the first crime scene. Look for any details that were missed. Rossi, you and I will go to the second crime scene. JJ, talk to the families of the girls. We need to know if there was anything linking them. Reid and Y/N, go to the latest crime scene and gather as much evidence as possible. You both are then to go to the police station and set up. We’ll meet there in about two hours.” Hotch explained.
Everyone broke off into their respected groups. Y/N and Spencer quickly arrived to the recent crime scene, the body still laying in the position it was found.
“FBI?” A detective asked.
“Yeah, this is SSA Y/L/N and I’m Dr. Reid. Is this how the body was found?” Spencer quizzed at the detective.
The man nodded and led the two over to the body on the ground. Y/N looked at the woman to see if there was any form of self defense wounds on her. Spencer was taking note of the area in which the body was found. It was just outside of town, the woods just a few miles away from the dump sight. Spencer was about to look around until Y/N called him over.
“Take a look at this.” She said, moving the arm of the woman.
The two saw marks around her wrists, showing that the woman was tied up when she was captured. As the looked even closer, the agents could see the body had bruises all along her neck, hips, and thighs. 
“This woman was raped, Spence.” Y/N said disappointedly. 
Spencer sighed. This case was not going to be an easy one. The two headed back to the station to set up the search. Spencer could see that Y/N was a bit off since they left the crime scene. Morgan and Prentiss came into the room, they were almost out of breath as the entered. 
“Marie Thomas was raped.” Prentiss explained. 
“So was Jenna.” Y/N stated, pinning up a photo of her lifeless body. 
“So he stalks them for a week, kidnaps them, rapes them, then dumps their dead bodies in ditches.” Derek said as he flopped onto a chair. 
“None of the girls had enemies at work, they all got along with their coworkers and mostly kept to themselves.” JJ said as she walked in. 
“So what sick bastard is taking these women?” Emily questioned. 
Hotch and Rossi soon joined the rest of the team, both looking more on edge than everyone else. 
“Guys? Are you okay?” Y/N asked. 
“Something isn’t sitting right.” Rossi sighed. 
Hotch walked over to the board as Spencer explained how he wanted the people of Omaha to see that he means business. Y/N became uncomfortable with the topic and decided to stand outside to get some fresh air, clearing her mind from all of the horrifying information she had taken in. Derek came to check up on her almost immediately after she left. 
“You okay mamas?” He asked. 
Y/N chuckled at the nickname.
“Honestly? No. These poor women were just living their lives and then this happens to them.” She explains, her heart sinking at the thought. 
“Look, Y/N, I know this is hard, but we have to keep our heads up. We’ll catch this sick son of a bitch, no matter the cost.” He said. 
“Derek, we don't have a lead. We can’t even connect the girls to each other besides the fact that they’re all the same age and work in the same building. To me, it almost seems like a revenge story.” 
Y/N’s head picks up after she said that. What if it was a revenge plot? What if the unsub was hurt by an ex or embarrassed by a coworker of the opposite sex and it just trying to get payback? 
Derek looked at Y/N curiously. She bolted back into the station and ran into the conference room where the rest of the team was. 
“This is a revenge spree.” Y/N said. 
The team looked at each other, confusion taking over the room. Y/N walked over to the board and began explaining her theory. 
“All three women worked at prestigious jobs, all three women were young, they were successful. Maybe this guy was ridiculed by someone like them, a girlfriend, coworker, boss, whatever. He is most likely killing them because he’s intimidated by them.” She said. 
“That explains the connection. But what about the geographical profile? What the significance of the ditches around the city?” Rossi asked. 
“He obviously wants them seen but not immediately. He’s almost trying put on a show for people, saying that he’s superior.” Spencer adds, looking over the photos. 
“It adds up but what about the rapes? He just does it because he can?” JJ asks. 
“No, he’s asserting dominance to these women. Showing them that he’s in charge.” Hotch said. 
“Gather all your officers up Detective. We have a profile.” 
About 15 minutes later, Omaha Police Officers and Detectives were surrounding the FBI agents as they gave the profile. 
“The man we’re looking for is in his late 20′s-early 30′s. He socially awkward and intimidated by women of higher class.” Hotch starts. 
“He won’t approach anyone first. He would be someone that keeps to himself at work unless his boss came up to him.” Emily said as she looks around the room. 
“Over the years he’s been humiliated by women of authority, this could be a boss, higher up coworker, a girlfriend even. He has been taking this for years and has had enough.” Y/N said. 
“He’s definitely the odd one out, he doesn’t look like he could do something as gruesome as this. Think of like a nerdy kid in high school.” Rossi explained.
“He’s trying to assert his dominance. He’s been submissive almost his whole life, he’s trying to show that he’s the one whose in charge by not only kidnapping, but raping the victims before he kills them.” Derek said as he sat in front of the group. 
“He’s on the hunt right now. He could be anywhere around the city so be on the look out.” Spencer said. 
“We’ve already made sure that everyone never leaves a location alone and that a city wide curfew has been set.” JJ says, crossing her arms. 
“This man is very dangerous, stay alert and stay safe.” Hotch said, ending the briefing. 
Y/N exhaled and decided to take a breather. She walked outside and took a deep breath. The case was starting to get to her. It could also be the lack of sleep she had. 
Y/N turned to go back inside, until she felt a sharp pain coursing on her head and the world went black. 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
After a few hours, Spencer had noticed Y/N missing and started looking for her. He looked around the station and even went downtown to see if she was at some coffee shop. He called her phone, only to be answered by her voicemail. Somethings wrong Spencer thought. He quickly went back to the station, panic taking over his mind. 
“Hey, Y/N isn't answer her phone and I can’t find her anywhere.” Spencer said frantically as he entered into the conference room.
The team looked around at each other, trying to figure out where she could’ve gone. It was normal for Y/N to wonder off during a case but not for longer than a half hour. The team knew that sometimes, some cases can be a little much for her so she steps away to take a minute to gather herself. Spencer would always go to make sure that she was okay, comforting her whenever she became overwhelmed with any case they were working on.
“Oh god..what if..” Emily started. 
“Our unsub has her.” Hotch said grabbing her phone and dialing Penelope’s phone number. 
“Hello my sweet, beautiful, darlings. How might I be of assistance.” Penelope sang through the small phone. 
“Garcia, Y/N has been taken. We need you to run a search on her phone to see where she could possibly be.” Rossi said. 
“Oh my god, no.” She said, sadness and worry taking over her demeanor. 
“It’s gonna be okay baby girl. We’re gonna find her, right now we need you to get that search started.” Derek cooed. 
Spencer was standing in the back, watching everything unfold. 
How could he let this happen? Usually he would check up on her but today, he was so wrapped up in the case that he didn’t even bother to make sure she was okay. He wanted to make sure that you weren’t over stressed, especially with cases like this one. This was all his fault. He should’ve gone with her. His guilt began to eat at him, anxiety gnawing at him like a dog on a bone.
“Spence? You okay?” Emily asked. 
“This is all my fault..” He whispered. 
“Spencer, you couldn’t have done anything to stop this. We’re dealing with a violently aggressive man-” 
“I check on her when cases become too much. I make sure that she’s okay. I’m always there for her and this time, I wasn’t. I wasn’t able to protect her from this maniac out there. And because of that, I’m losing the love of my life...again.” Spencer snaps. 
Emily looks at the sad Doctor with empathy. She rubs his back for just a moment and returns to the rest of the team, leaving Spencer on his own. 
---------------------------------------------------------
Y/N groaned as she picked her head up, the weight being ridiculously heavy. She took in her surroundings, seeing only a dark room with a single light bulb above her. She tried to move but her hands and feet were tied together on a chair. Well this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day, she thought. Y/N soon heard a loud slam come from down the hall. Footsteps were soon followed, dragging along the concrete floor. 
“Well. Aren’t you a pretty one.” A man with a deep voice seethed, slowly making his way over to the light. 
Y/N could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. To say she was terrified was a huge understatement. 
“What do you want from me? I wasn’t the one who hurt you.” Y/N said, trying to sound as brave as she could. 
“No, but you’re like her.” The man yelled as he slapped her cheek. 
“What do you gain from this? Huh? Some sick form of pleasure?” Y/N screamed as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. 
The unsub punched her in her face. Y/N could feel a bruise forming under her eye as she panted. Y/N was a strong girl, and she wasn’t going to give up that easily but she definitely couldn’t hold on forever. 
She hoped the team would save her soon. 
----------------------------------------------------------
“Okay so by the looks of it, her phone was up and active until she got closer to the forest. That’s where the trail runs cold.” Garcia says, clicking away on her many computers. 
“Detective, is there any abandoned houses or barns out that way?” Hotch asked. 
“There’s actually an old barn just passed town. It’s deep in the woods though. Kinda hard to see at night.” The Detective said. 
“Well we can’t wait until morning, she’ll be dead by then, so if you could tell us what the coordinates are, that’ d be great.” Spencer hissed. 
“Reid.” Hotch said sternly. 
“No Hotch, if we wait any longer Y/N will be dead. She’s part of the time and a huge part of my life. I can’t just wait around until it’s convenient for everyone!” Spencer yelled.
The team looked at Spencer in surprise. Hotch signaling to Derek to get Spencer to calm down before he’s removed from the case. 
“Kid, I know you care about this girl, but you need to keep your cool.” Derek said, pulling Spencer to the other side of the room. 
“I’m sorry, Morgan. I just want her to be alive.” Spencer said, his voice wavering. 
“I know. We’ll get your girl back.” Derek promised. 
Spencer nodded and hugged his friend. 
---------------------------------------------------------------
“Only a few hours left gorgeous, better get some rest before I destroy you.” The man said. 
Y/N was beaten beyond belief. She felt as though she’d been to hell and couldn’t recover. Her vision was hazy, she could tell she had a huge concussion. Her lip was bleeding and by the throbbing of her eye, she knew there was going to be some bruising. Her body ached from being beaten in a chair. She could barely keep her eyes open. 
Her thoughts went to Spencer. She thought about ever seeing him again, about ever being able to tell him that she loved him. She wanted to finally express her feelings to him, but probably won’t ever get the chance now. Her swollen eyes began to fill with tears as her heart breaks. 
It’s not long until the man come back and beats her again. Constantly throwing fists at her face. 
“How does it feel to be less than nothing, you bitch.” He whispered.
“Go to hell.” Y/N seethed.
With that, Y/N spit some of the blood from her lip at the unsub. He yelled and slapped her across the face. As he was going in for a punch, Y/N hear footsteps outside, Her heart beat picked up, knowing her team finally came to her rescue. 
“You think you’re all big and bad because you kill and rape women? hah, I’ve seen bugs better than you.” Y/N spat. 
It was that moment where a click of a gun rang throughout the barn and Hotch’s voice rang through Y/N’s ears. 
“Put your hands where I can see them.” He said sternly. 
The unsub grabbed a knife and pulled it to Y/N’s throat.
“If I die, she dies with me.” He said. 
Spencer locked his gun and pointed to the unsub. He could see the terror and shame in Y/N’s eyes as his fingers landed on the trigger. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to keep her safe, and after this, he was going to make sure you weren’t in harms way. 
“Sir, just let the girl go.” Hotch tried reasoning. 
“Why? So she could go tell scrawny over there to work harder? So she could torment him just like I was?” 
The unsub looked over to Spencer. 
“You know she screams your name, right?” he said. 
“She screamed it while I was beating her to a pulp. Guess you could say she-” 
A gunshot was fired. The man’s body flopped to the floor as Y/N hyperventilated. Spencer ran over to her, untying ever blasted knot that was harming her precious skin. Once she was released, Y/N flopped down on top of Spencer, holding him as tightly as she could. 
“I thought I was never going to see you again.” he whispered. 
“I was so scared Spence. I thought he was going to-” 
Spencer cut Y/N off. 
“I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you, Y/N. I care about you way too much to let someone manhandle you like that.” Spencer said lovingly. 
Y/N pulled away from him and crashed her lips onto his. 
The kiss was delicate, yet full of passion. The pair kissed for just a few moments before they pulled away. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while, just couldn’t find the right time.” Y/N said, softly smiling at the cheesing Doctor. 
“Well I’m glad you finally did. Come on, let’s get you home.” Spencer smiled. 
Both agents stood up from the ground and made their way outside of the barn. Y/N was looked at for her injuries and soon after, the team made their way back home. 
---------------------------------------------------------
“Don’t worry about the reports just yet, guys. Go home and get some rest.” Hotch said as they entered the BAU. Everyone cheered as they all made their ways to their designated cars. 
“Hey, Spence?” Y/N asked. 
“Yeah?”  
“Can I please stay with you? I don’t know if I could stay there by myself tonight.” Y/N blushed. 
Spencer smiled and pulled Y/N into his chest. Y/N snuggled in tightly, feeling the warm embrace of the Doctor who saved her.
“Of course you can stay, do you want to run back to your place and get some clothes?” Spencer asked. 
Y/N nodded as they headed to his car. The drive back to Y/N’s apartment was silent, but a comfortable silent. The two held each other’s hand tightly, afraid of letting the other person go. They pulled into the parking lot and made their way upstairs. Y/N unlocked her apartment and quickly slid inside, allowing Spencer access to her home. Y/N quickly ran back to her room, gathering some clothes and her tooth brush so she could stay over at Spencer’s. 
As she exited her room, Spencer was sat on her kitchen counter, looking through a small cookbook her mother had given her. 
“These snickerdoodles sound really good, do you mind if we bring this and make cookies tomorrow?” Spencer asked. 
“Sure.” 
Spencer smiled and took Y/N’s hand, leading her back to the car. The drive to Spencer’s apartment wasn't too far from hers. The two quickly made it up the stairs and into the apartment. 
Spencer’s place was cozy. With the many books on the book shelf, it made Y/N’s heart fill with joy. A yawn passed Y/N’s lips. 
“You wanna go to sleep, darling?” Spencer asked, placing a hand on her back. 
Y/N nodded. Spencer lead her to his room. They both began to get ready for bed when Y/N spoke up. 
“Can I wear one of your shirts to sleep?” 
“Of course, here.” Spencer said, handing Y/N a black crewneck sweater. 
Y/N threw it on and climbed into bed. Spencer follow shortly after, snuggling close to Y/N as possible. She rested her head on his chest and sighed. Spencer kissed her head sweetly whispering: 
“I love you.” 
617 notes · View notes
drreporting · 3 years
Note
Prompt Omelia sharing a bath together something sweet please
Baby Bath
“I forgot how tiring it is manufacturing a human being,” Amelia muttered, half sarcastically, as she leaned her back against Owen’s chest, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Thank god the nausea is gone.”
“Well, I can put you on the schedule for less hours at work…” He stopped as soon as he saw those piercing blues staring up at him accusingly. “Never mind,” he finished, chuckling as he rubbed her shoulders, splashing water over them to distract her from her irritation.
“I hope this isn’t the chief of surgery speaking to me right now,” she chimed, closing her eyes as she smirked, her jaw evidently tense.
Over the past couple of weeks, she and Owen had challenged each other on numerous occasions during work, causing a lot of tension amidst staff members and patients with their arguments. It was hard to pick a side when one side was the chief of neurosurgery, and the other side was the chief of surgery, especially when they were engaged to each other. Picking a side at work meant picking a side in their relationship, and many of the doctors there had realized long ago that it made no sense to do either, far less both. The power struggle was evident between the two, but no one would openly admit that as the reason for all their squabbles. Owen was coddling her because she was pregnant, and she was being arrogantly independent to counteract it. Something had to give.
Their most recent fight had been catalyzed by Owen rearranging Amelia’s surgeries so that she would spend less time on her feet while working. To say that had sent Amelia over the edge, was an understatement; she hated being micromanaged. The action had led to an all-out yelling session right outside the OR that was supposed to be ready for her surgery, and Owen had unfortunately made the mistake of exercising his full control, as chief of surgery. He’d basically given her a ‘time-out’ in front of all their colleagues, as though she were a resident, and banished her to his office where her subordinates assumed, she would receive the actual punishment for her public disrespect. Although she complied, she obviously did not respond well to it in the end. By the time he’d made it there to privately address their argument, she’d torn up the entire room, the mess of it all making it known how angry she was. It was like a hurricane had torn through his office.
“Amelia, what is wrong with you?” Owen exclaimed as he observed his fiancée pelting all the papers off his desk, and across the room.
“Why are you undermining me in front of my students?” she yelled at him, “I am the chief of neurosurgery-”
“Well, you’re not acting like it,” he responded blandly, hinting at the mini tantrum she appeared to be having in his office, “You’re being completely irrational…”
“I had a surgery booked.”
“And you’re pregnant and you’ve already logged almost 30 hours in the past two days, so no,” he cut her off, raising a hand to silence her, “No more long hours.” Before he could continue his lecture, a knock came to the door, and Derek peaked through the crack, just in time to see the mess. He chose to ignore it, knowing he had more important matters at hand, and went ahead with his inquiry.
“Hey Hunt, is the patient prepped for OR 1 as yet?” Derek asked, not knowing of the yelling match, or its origin.
Before Owen could get a word out, Amelia turned to her brother and yelled, “Get out!” He froze, looking at Derek with a bit of shock on his face. He had not expected her to yell at him.
Derek looked between the two before looking back at his sister. “Okay then…” As soon as he exited the room, she glared at Owen once more.
“Amelia, just…please-”
“No,” she cut him off this time, raising her hand; the hurricane had only just begun, “You cannot use your power to boss me around and undermine me, just because I am pregnant with your child!” she yelled at him, clearly enough for some of the doctors outside to hear, “I am not your property, and I am not a plant!” It was hard to keep a straight face when she had just compared herself to a plant, but Owen knew it would be counterintuitive to laugh right now. They had yet to announce to the rest of the hospital the good news, so he was sure those eavesdropping doctors would do the job for them, and probably spread the news of their most recent fight too.
“You don’t know how to take care of yourself.” She furrowed her eyebrows at him in disgust. How could he have the audacity to say that?
“I know how to take care of myself,” she growled, her fists clenched as though she was ready to pummel him, “Let’s not forget that I had to birth and raise Ryan, all by myself!” She pressed a palm to her forehead as she tried to regain control of her emotions. “You just don’t know how to stop controlling people.”
“I am not controlling you, Amelia,” he disagreed, “Look, can we just simmer down a bit?”
“So, what is it that you’re doing?” she accused him, folding her arms. Owen sighed and scratched the back of his head.
Walking to her, he squeezed her arms and looked down at her. “I just want you to be safe and I want the baby to be healthy, and you’re not being safe!”
“Owen, I’m pregnant, not dying,” she reminded him, “And Arizona has not said anything about me staying off of my feet. For god’s sake, I’m only two and half months along!”
He sighed, knowing she was a little right but not wanting to admit it. He was worried about her; this was his first child. “Amelia, could you just please follow my orders and stay home more?”
“No,” she said, pulling herself out of his grasp, “I am no longer just your subordinate, Owen. You asked me to marry you, I am pregnant with your child!” He frowned at her as he truly began to feel the shame of the way he acted. “You cannot just give me orders, like an intern, and expect me to follow you like we’re living in the 1950’s!” He folded his arms and averted his eyes to the floor, clenching his jaw. She was right, and he knew it, and he’d already done the damage. “You undermined me and embarrassed me today, in front of my subordinates. You made it seem like I was handicapped!”
“Amelia…”
“Can I start parking in the cripple spot too?” she vulgarly asked, pointing in the general direction of the car park. Owen pinched the bridge of his nose, not knowing what else to say. Amelia walked towards him, intending to walk past him, but not before saying, “This is getting ridiculous now, Owen. Last week, you were sending interns, with keto meals, to take my vitals every six hours. This week, you’re running my department for me.” He felt terrible because he knew now; he was overdoing it. He had been stifling her this entire time, and he thought he was being caring, and truthfully he couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Cristina felt too; if that was why she truly left. “It’s either you give up being chief, or…” She frowned; she couldn’t say the words. She just fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger, wondering if she had really thought this marriage thing through with him. “I can’t do this anymore; something has to give.” And with that, she left.
That fight had been just a few days ago, so it was still fresh in their minds as they sat in the bathtub together. Amelia had not broken up with him, but she had stopped wearing the engagement ring, so he didn’t know where they stood. Quite frankly, he was surprised that she’d even invited him in the tub with her. Everything was all so confusing these days, and he hoped it was just the hormones, and not them falling apart.
“This is not the chief speaking to you,” he laughed uncomfortably, deep in thought now. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about some stuff…” He didn’t know where to start, but thankfully she did.
“I have too,” she affirmed, “I’m sorry for making you feel like you have to choose between your job and me. It’s just that the micromanaging…”
“Amelia, I get it,” he cut her off, cupping his hands around her stomach. She looked up at him, the curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “I’ve been entirely too pushy with you, as of recently.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Go on…”
He smiled as he looked down at her, already sensing that she would forgive him. “I think I got caught up worrying about all the ways you could get hurt.” He shifted uncomfortably as he looked around, adding, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad, it’s been my dream since…I don’t know. But I’ve never been through a pregnancy before, and honestly, it’s scary.” She watched him with concern, sensing that he was being vulnerable. “All the baby articles online, all the medical knowledge, it’s always racing through my mind when I see you.” He furrowed his brows and frowned, and Amelia could feel his pulse quickening, his heart thumping against her back. “I know you’ve been through the baby thing already, but this is my first child, Amelia. And I…”  He looked back at her again, his gaze a mixture of worry, fear, and love. “I want her to be perfect, and happy and healthy, and I don’t want to have to worry about if you are standing too long, or not eating enough, and if it will hurt her. Or hurt you.” He squeezed his arms around her stomach a little tighter. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, more than anything.”
“Owen I’m not going to hurt myself,” she giggled, softened by his caring words. Initially, she felt like he was being a control freak, but now she was hearing otherwise; he was just experiencing anxiety. “You can be a caring father, and not control my every move, at the same time.”
“That sounds more like an oxymoron,” Owen grumbled unenthusiastically. Amelia sat up in the tub, and Owen followed, his hands holding either sides of her waist as he helped her up and out of the water to get to her towel. “How am I supposed to do that?” He got out of the tub and wrapped his towel around his waist before joining Amelia by the mirror sink, standing behind her. She had already begun combing her hair and appeared to be purposely ignoring Owen.
“You can start by answering this question,” Amelia quipped, twisting, and pointing the comb at him behind her as she put on a gameshow voice, “What colour do you think our baby’s hair will be?”
Owen raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Amelia, what does this have to do with anything?”
“Just answer,” she prompted him, shaking the comb in front of his face like a mic.
Owen smirked as he looked at her in the mirror; she was entirely too playfully attractive for him not to entertain this little game. “Okay. Red.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and grinned.
“I think so too,” she agreed. She faced the mirror again and leaned into his chest, a dreamy look on her face as she slowly twirled a strand of her wet hair around her fingers. “I think it’ll be a girl.”
“I hope it is,” Owen sighed peacefully, wrapping his arms around her waist as he lightly rested his chin on the top of her head, “And I hope her eyes are blue like yours.”
“With rosy skin,” she added to the imagination.
“Rosy,” Owen repeated, liking the way it sounded in his voice, “Let’s call her that.”
With an amused grin on her face, she said, “We don’t know if it’s a girl.”
“It’s definitely a girl,” Owen feigned ignorantly, making Amelia giggle again, “I can feel it right here.” He softly poked a finger in her side, knowing she would jump.
“Don’t tickle me!” she exclaimed, shying away from his steady grip on her waist. He smiled as he watched her in the mirror, knowing in his heart that it would be a girl. It had to be.
“Rosalie,” Amelia whispered once they settled into each other’s embrace, “Rosie, for short.”
“I love it,” Owen grinned even wider. He looked down at her, turning her in his arms as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”
She smiled up at him, returning the kiss, but on his mouth. “How could you not?” And she was right. It was impossible not to love her, which was the reminder he needed to finally make his mind up.
“I’m thinking of giving up being the chief,” he said against her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Taken aback, Amelia pulled away from him to look at him. “Really?” He nodded; his eyes hooded with love. “Just like that?”
“You said it yourself,” he whispered, “How could I not love you?”
She smiled with a questioning look. “Are you sure?”
“I want to be around more,” he explained, “I don’t want to miss out on our baby’s life because I’m sorting through paperwork and yelling at doctors.” He looked her up and down, truly looked at her. “I want to take care of you, and not in the chief-y way.”
“Well, you’ve convinced me,” she relented, grinning at him, “but I think you’ll miss the job.”
“Are you crazy? I hate paperwork,” he dramatically exclaimed, filling her neck with kisses, “And I hate dealing with doctors’ problems.”
“Hmm, I don’t know, you seemed to enjoy it,” she played along, “Bossing people around, telling them where to stick their budgets. It was kinda hot.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, and she nodded playfully, stealing a quick kiss from him. “Well, as your boss, I order you to take off your towel.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else,” he began, turning her around while he unraveled her from the towel, “you will be punished.” He faced her back towards him, his hand making its way to her rear and spanking her once. He was delighted to hear her gasp of surprise, and more so when he saw the shocked expression, she gave him in the mirror.
“You see, this is how we got here in the first place,” she reminded him, laughing.
“The spanking, or the sex?” he sought to confirm, dotting the back of her neck with kisses.
“Both,” she giggled.
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ellewritesathing · 4 years
Text
(Un)Requited  -  I.L. III
Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.
Masterlist Prev. | Part 3
Word-count: 3.1k+
A/N: i really need to work on updating this fic but i’ve finally figured out more or less what to do with this story line so hopefully my updates will be a bit more regular!!
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Whenever Isaac thought he was getting better at functioning around you, you always found a way to prove him wrong. 
It had been a week since you developed the Get The Girl game plan, and he’d been spending a lot of time with you ever since. Isaac had left notes and corrections on your algebra homework that made you smile, figured out the kind of jokes that made you laugh, and had gone to your house a few times to study together (and only once had any actual studying been done). Magnus still hated him, but he was slowly but surely winning over Max and the rest of your family. 
You even sat in the stands whenever he had lacrosse practice and committed his schedule to memory - when Isaac knew full-well that you knew nothing about lacrosse. 
Things were looking up. At this rate, Isaac might actually have the courage to ask you out and have the tiniest, most microscopic chance of you saying yes. 
And then the weekend came and you took him to the mall to buy some new clothes and get a haircut. 
It was nothing too serious - Isaac had even said something that made you laugh over lunch - but now he was sitting in the salon chair and you were running your hands through his hair while the two of you waited for the hairdresser. 
Isaac knew it was an absent-minded gesture while you thought of what to do with him, but he couldn’t help the way it made him feel. He was surprised you couldn’t hear how his heart beat out of his chest every time you started combing through a new section, almost as surprised that you hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t paying attention to a word you said. 
“So what do you think?” you asked, dropping your hands on the top of Isaac’s shoulders (sadly). The touch still made him malfunction, but it was easier now that your hands were still and your eyes were focused on his in the mirror.
“I, uh- I think that sounds like a good idea,” Isaac said, trying to look like he’d been listening. He’d meant to, honestly, but it was literally impossible for him to focus around you.
Two social steps forward and about a billion back.
“Really? I thought you’d hate bleaching it,” you said. 
Isaac’s heart nearly exploded. “Bleach?” 
“And a mohawk.” 
“Oh, you’re messing with me for zoning out,” Isaac said. Though he would have been perfectly content to have a bleach blonde mohawk if it made you happy, he pretended to be cooler than he actually was by nodding at your reflection in the mirror. “I see how it is.” 
“It was too good an opportunity to pass up,” you laughed, lifting your hands back to his hair. “What I was thinking is a little shorter on the sides but keeping the top as it is. It would break my heart if we cut off your curls.” 
“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Isaac said, too softly to be a part of his cool guy routine. Your teasing smile faded into something a bit more genuine. “Sounds good. For real this time.”
Before you had the chance to answer, the hairstylist came over and started occupying your time. As happy as it made Isaac to hear you laughing and talking with them, an ugly pang of jealousy shot through him. 
Derek had explained to Isaac when he turned that sometimes he’d feel emotions that weren’t necessarily his own. Those emotions were why anchors were so important, because otherwise Isaac would drift in a sea of emotions and they’d eventually consume him. At the time, Derek was talking about anger, but Isaac knew this had to be a part of it, too. 
Isaac just wanted you to be happy, he didn’t care who it was with or if it had anything to do with him. 
He spent the better part of the appointment trying to convince himself that he wasn’t a jealous bastard that didn’t deserve the time of day, and by the time his blowdry was done, he was back to his normal semi-functional self. 
You beamed at his hair as he stood up and ruffled it slightly, only to be laughed at by the hairstylist. Isaac couldn’t hear very well over his heart beating so loudly and with his ears recovering from the force of the hairdryer, but he could have sworn the hairstylist said something about you two being a cute couple on your way out. 
Isaac didn’t have time to dwell on the comment, though, because soon enough you were dragging him into stores he’d never been to and picking out things for him to try on. 
It was awkward at first. Isaac had lost the ability to talk to you as well as the ability to make a decision. The result was a clumsy collection of clothing and a very awkward moment before Isaac closed the changing room door with you on the other side. 
After a brief pep talk, Isaac started trying on the clothes. They weren’t bad, they just weren’t what he would normally wear. He hadn’t exactly made it easy to shop for him what with his inability to speak but he still couldn’t help feeling out of place in the stuff you’d picked out. 
When he came out, you were sitting on a bench, leaning your head against the wall and scrolling through something on your phone. You brightened up when you saw him and his heart melted, but he shook his head and placed the clothes on the return counter. 
“You didn’t like any of it?” you asked as you got to your feet. 
Isaac shook his head and sighed. “Nah, it’s not that it’s just … I haven’t really worn anything that wasn’t Camden’s first.” He blinked a few times. Where did that come from? There was no way you wouldn’t realize he was a loser now. 
“Oh,” you said quietly, dropping your gaze to your shoes. “I should have-” You looked back up at Isaac and gave him a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”
“Yeah, I’d go anywhere with you,” Isaac said before he could stop himself. He made a mental note to ask Erica to slap some sense into him when he got home.
Instead of groaning and calling him cheesy, you laughed and looped your arm around his. “Come on. I’ll buy you some ice cream on our way out.” 
The ice cream had sent shivers up your spine so, somewhere between the store and parking lot, Isaac had given you his jacket. You wore it as you drove him home, and Isaac couldn’t help but think how much better it looked on you than it did on him. 
Isaac tried to think of an excuse to not get out of the car once it was parked outside the loft, but he came up empty. He was about to thank you for the ride and the attempted shopping trip when you started talking. 
“It’s Erica, isn’t it?” you asked, staring through the windshield at where Erica was harassing Derek at the entrance to the building. She was having the time of her life and Derek looked ready to drink. 
Isaac let out a laugh. He wondered if she wanted money or if she was just having fun giving Derek a migraine. “Yeah, that’s her.” 
You bit your lip as you stared out the windshield. After a moment, you turned to look at Isaac with a somewhat indecipherable look on your face. “I think she’ll say yes.” 
“Wait, what?” Isaac asked. He had no idea what you thought Erica would say yes to, or how you got there from asking for her name. 
“Yeah, I don’t think you needed to cut your hair or change anything to get her attention,” you said, still not making any sense. “When you ask her to the dance, I think she’ll say yes.” Isaac tried very hard not to frown at you, but it probably wasn’t working because you kept talking before he could say anything. “You’re a really great guy, Isaac. If she doesn’t see that then she’s crazy.” 
“Right,” Isaac said slowly. It was the only thing he could think of to say. He had no idea how to untangle the mess he’d gotten himself into or how to explain to you that he and Erica were the farthest thing from romantic prospects. “Thanks.” 
“Yeah, of course,” you said with a smile. “I’ll see you after practice on Monday?” 
“Yeah, sure. See you.”
Isaac got out of the car, feeling dazed and confused, and waved at you as you disappeared down the street. How had he gone from feeling like he had a shot with you this morning to asking Erica to the dance? 
---
“No way,” Erica said, not looking up from the nail she was painting. 
She’d refused to stop painting them, even though the smell of the open bottle made everyone in the loft feel nauseous. Today, she’d picked out a metallic shade called Black and Blue - no doubt because anyone who got close enough to see the color would be left black and blue. 
Isaac attempted to come closer but stopped when Erica slid the bottle closer to him. “Come on, I never ask you to do anything!” 
“Oh, please. You ask me to do crap for you all the time.”
“Name one other time.” 
“Two hours ago you asked to copy my English homework because, and I quote ‘it’s a Crime and Punishment that I have to read this,’” Erica said. She looked up at him with a sly smile. “And you say you’re not witty.” 
It didn’t take a genius to see that Erica had won that angle of the argument, so Isaac changed tactics. “What if I cover for you next Thursday so you can go to that concert Derek said you’d only go to once he was dead?” 
Erica hummed and looked back down at her nails. She touched up her left ring finger before looking back up at Isaac, knowing that he’d use that time to think up several other options to offer her when she said no. “Is it really that important to you that this girl knows I’d never in a million years date you?” 
“Not how I’d phrase it, but yeah,” Isaac said. He slid into the seat across from Erica and carefully placed the lid over the bottle. 
Erica looked at him for a hard moment and then sighed. “Fine. Then I’ll find a reason to talk to her and tell her you’re not my type.” 
Isaac leaned over the table and kissed her cheek before racing out of the room to ensure he didn’t end up black and blue. “You’re the best, Erica. Have fun at the concert!” 
“Concert?” Derek asked, catching Isaac’s arm as he ran past him. 
“Definitely not,” Isaac said with a grin. He leaned in and kissed Derek’s cheek for good measure. The poor man was so off-guard that Isaac shook out of his grip without using any supernatural influences. 
---
Isaac had come up with a plan. It wasn’t a very good one, but it was the only one he had. He’d go to practice and try to be the best player on the field to impress you, and then when you guys were sitting on the bleachers and he went through his homework, he’d explain this whole scheme to you. Hopefully, the speech he’d prepared would be eloquent and he wouldn’t just throw up words all over you, but that was a risk he had to take. 
The ‘being the best player’ part kind of failed because, aside from all his issues, Isaac was very distracted by a chemo-signal in the air: nervousness. It was everywhere, but particularly near the bench and bleachers. 
He tried to put the first failure aside as he showered and changed into a shirt he thought you’d like. Instead, he went over his speech once more in his head to make sure it sounded halfway decent. 
Hey, so I know this is really weird but I need to come clean: I’ve had a crush on you ever since our brothers first dumped us on each other when we were kids. I’ve never wanted to ask Erica to the dance; I’ve only ever wanted to go with you but I never thought I had a chance with you so I lied. It was stupid, but I can’t change that now and I guess what I’m trying to say is … will you go to the dance with me?
Isaac groaned and hit his head against his locker. The speech was awful, but if he didn’t tell you the truth then he was pretty sure he was going to combust. 
He was still trying to psych himself up to talk to you when he walked back over to the bleachers and heard you laughing. Then he picked the chemo-signal up again. You were nervous. 
And you were talking to Stiles Stilinski. 
That ugly feeling of jealousy shot through him again, and Isaac worked to convince himself he was overreacting as he made his way over. 
“Hey, guys,” Isaac said evenly. He smiled at you and shot Stiles a very deliberate look. “What’s up?”
“Stiles was just telling me this story about one of your away games. Did you really fall off the bleachers right before the match and sprain your ankle?” you asked, mouth pulled up in an amused smile. It wasn’t malicious but it felt different than the one you usually gave him. 
“Uh, yeah. I guess I did,” Isaac said stiffly. “Back in freshman year. Did Stiles tell you about the time he drove his Jeep through the other team’s equipment and forced us to forfeit?” 
You whipped your head around to laugh at Stiles. Again, not maliciously. Just different. This time it was more like you and Stiles had a secret that Isaac didn’t know about. “No way, seriously?”
“Seriously. But in my defense, Scott was distracting me,” Stiles said, not sounding very defensive. He had a surprisingly easy smile on his face that made Isaac want to punch him. “But, uh, speaking of Scott, I should probably get going before he starts asking strangers for rides and becomes a seven o’clock special.” 
You laughed again and gave him a matching easy smile. “Can’t have that, can we?” 
“Definitely not,” Stiles said. His eyes flicked over to Isaac for a second before turning his attention back to you. “So I’ll see you on Friday?”
“Yeah, looking forward to it,” you said. Stiles started heading down the bleachers and you let out a small sigh before gathering up your stuff. He looked at you over his shoulder and you waved at him. 
It was amazing how such small movements made Isaac feel sick to his stomach; a smile here, a laugh there, and now a wave. 
Isaac adjusted his backpack and tried not to look as jealous as he felt. “So what’s on Friday?” 
“Oh, uh-” You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and shrugged. There was a strange kind of nervousness rolling off you. “Stiles asked if I wanted to go to the dance with him so I suggested we do a trial run before then.” 
“Like a date?” 
“Yeah, like a date,” you said. Your expression was funny; it looked like you were trying to figure something out how Isaac felt about it, but Isaac didn’t know why his feelings would matter. “What do you think of that?” 
Isaac thought that everything made sense now. You’d never been interested in sports, and yet you came to every one of his lacrosse games and had the entire practice schedule memorized. Like an idiot, Isaac had thought all your questions meant you had taken an interest in him. 
Clearly, he wasn’t that far off. You still weren’t interested in lacrosse, you were just interested in Stiles. 
The same Stiles who hated him, made fun of him, and kept him from joining Scott’s pack for the longest time. Everything Isaac did, Stiles found a way to do better - despite being mind-numbingly human.
Stiles had a particular charm that Isaac couldn’t stand but everyone else seemed to love. He was witty, and kind, and some might say he was even good looking. And Isaac thought, most of all, that after going out with a guy like Stiles, there was no way you would ever want to go out with him.
“I think that’s great,” Isaac said with a tight smile. His heart was beating out of his chest and if you were like him, you would have known he was lying. 
But you were human - you didn’t know. 
Still, you frowned. Either Isaac said something wrong or you felt conflicted about something. The frown was only there for a second before you replaced it with a smile only slightly different to the one you usually wore, closer to the nervous one you’d given him when you asked him to tutor you. “You do?” 
“Yeah,” Isaac lied again. If there was one thing his time with you had made Isaac realize, it was that having a place in your life - even a place as a friend with unrequited feelings - was better than no place at all, and he wasn’t going to screw that all up by telling you how he felt. He took a deep breath. “But, uh, do you mind if we talk about this some other time? Derek texted when I was in the locker room and he needs my help with something at the loft.” 
You blinked a few times, trying to piece together the quick change in pace. “Oh, uh, do you want me to drive you?” 
Your pained expression almost made Isaac spill his guts right there. He couldn’t risk spending any more time with you. “No, he’s coming to pick me up.” 
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together as you looked at him, despite the smile on your face. 
“Yeah, sure. Not like those problems are going to solve themselves, right?” Isaac asked. He did his best to give you a reassuring smile. 
Your smile faltered for a second, but then it was back on your face and covering up any other thoughts. “Right.” 
Isaac left pretty quickly after that, with one thought clear in his mind: Out of everyone in the entire school to go out with, why did you have to pick Stiles Fucking Stilinski?
Tagged: @lettherebelovex​  @britty443​  @ietts  @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane​
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incoherentbabblings · 3 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Young Justice - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake Characters: Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark, Kon-El | Conner Kent Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Kissing, Romance, Established Relationship, Tim Drake is Drake (DCU), Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Minor Canonical Character(s), Fluff and Humor, Light Angst Summary:
Expanded scene for Young Justice (2019) #15. Tim and Steph finally get to reunite after the team’s reality hopping adventure, and whilst Tim is keen for Stephanie to be (re)introduced to his friends, Stephanie isn’t sure she belongs.
Tim watched as people piled up the big green monsters into one giant pile of unconsciousness. He was standing on top of his pickup truck; the one Stephanie had apparently driven halfway across America without even a scratch to come meet up with him.
Tim watched as she very awkwardly extracted herself from a conversation with Jackson and Derek, not sure what to say or do, and made a beeline towards Tim. He tried to control his expression as she did so. He wasn’t disappointed in her, but he had hoped she would be able to feel comfortable enough around a bunch of strangers to strike up a friendly conversation or two. At the same time, he understood. Afterall, they hadn’t really gotten their reunion yet. At least, not the one that Steph had teased about wanting.
Tim could see her slight nervousness in the way she held her shoulders as she looked up at him, face hidden under her black mask and purple hood.
“We done? No more bad guys to punch?”
Two days they’d said. Two days and they would find each other.
They’d known it was a promise neither could keep, and things had very understandably gotten out of hand, but still, Tim felt like he had disappointed her.
“We’re done.”
He reached down, tugging her up onto the roof of the truck. She didn’t need the help, but he wanted to see how readily she took his arm.
She did so immediately, without hesitation, a light laugh bubbling out as she was heaved upwards. Stephanie was deceptively light, or maybe Tim was deceptively strong. Regardless, he tugged up until she was able to twist onto the roof on her butt. She then pulled herself up to standing to be level with Tim.
She was smiling under her face cover.
“Can I take off my mask, do you think? Do you trust them all?”
“Yes,” he replied immediately. “They’re our friends Steph.”
His heart broke a little that she didn’t quite understand it yet. It was a bit of a white lie, but Tim saw no reason why it could not be the truth. They had left Gotham for many reasons, altered timelines being one of many, but another was simply the desire to go new places, meet new people, and have a life outside of the damn Bat for two weeks.
Finding his friends again, finding that safe space... He wanted Steph to find her own place within it. He had mentioned it to Cassie, Kon and Bart on the rare quiet moment during their interdimensional travels. He didn’t want there to be a hard line between his life in Gotham and life with them. He didn’t see the need. Not anymore.
Needless to say that the three of them took his thoughts very well. Yes, the four of them were finally reunited. Enough with the melodrama; be grateful that they could spend time together once more and stretch it out and milk that time for all it was worth. Remember how easily it was taken away?
Besides, it couldn’t do Steph any harm to have friends too, right? Admittedly she was a bit rough around the edges, as socially awkward as she was genuinely kind, but then again it wasn’t like the team were exactly behaving at peak social norms either. Bart alone was surely testament to that, right?
Steph was ignorant to Tim’s musings and continued their conversation.
“Good. Because,” she sang, pulling down her hood and her full-face mask off. “I need to give you that proper greeting, remember? Can’t wait any longer.”
Tim exhaled at the sight of her smile and long blonde hair, but it collapsed when she leaned in, eyes half shut.
“Wait,” he said, jerking back a little.
“What?” Stephanie asked, voice quiet and sad. Worried at the rejection, she put her hands up to rest on his chest. He flinched as she did so, and she felt like crying. “Oh no… Something happened didn’t it? Is it those memories you got back? Was I horrible in them? Because I’m really sorry if I was. I’m a different person now. Literally or metaphorically I dunno but…Or is it something that happened whilst you were away?”
She spoke with such sincerity despite the farcical nature of the statements, that Tim felt the need to put her out of her misery. He grasped her wrists and then intertwined their fingers when she raised her palm from his chest. He squeezed tight, and he saw her tremble.
“It’s not you. I didn’t keep my promise.”
“What?” Her voice shifted from upset at herself to the situation.
“You needed me. We said two days. And I tried but-but…”
Stephanie pouted at being denied affection for such a trivial reason as – as far as she saw it – losing track of time. Tim was punishing himself in that silly head of his, and by extension, it also felt so to Stephanie. She took a deep breath and mellowed out her tone.
“Stuff happens,” she responded firmly. She was not interested in a debate or Tim’s proclivity for self-flagellation. “I know you didn’t deliberately leave me hanging, so why would I resent it? Impulse mentioned reality hopping…”
Her look became worried as she drew the wrong conclusion. The confidence fled her as quickly as it had come. “Was it bad? Trauma? Where did you go? Is that where you got this outfit from because ooft honey –”
“You gave it to me.”
Stephanie paused, then tugged Tim’s hands round to hold her waist.
“I did what?” she scrunched up her eyes and face cutely, shaking her head like she was trying really hard to remember giving Tim a brown superhero suit without a cape and a yellow bat on the belt buckle. “Is it another missing memory? Because it’s so unfair that you have yours and mine are still wibbly wobbly. I’m actually a little peeved about it to be honest.”
“This costume. It was… we were…”
Like she was speaking to a toddler, she squeezed tight and said, “Start at the start. What happened after you got to Metropolis?”
Tim told her.
It was an oddly long story, and yet simultaneously brief. It was chaotic and frantic, and yet the affection with which Tim relayed the adventure with his friends made her chest warm. When he reached the misdirection of Earth Three, Stephanie’s patient and attentive expression turned a little distraught. She didn’t mind having the title of Batwoman, she didn’t mind being a good guy in a world of not good guys, but there was just the fact that…
“But you said everyone on Earth Three was evil? A flip of this earth’s morality.”
“I thought so. But you weren’t. You were good there too.”
This only served to further confuse Stephanie.
“But… but…but!” she gulped in a large pocket of air. “But that would mean this me is evil! Right? Am I evil? All this time we’ve been worrying about crazy bat you –”
“Ouch.”
“—But what if it’s me? You could have stayed and helped her right? But you didn’t. And she gave you that costume as what? A present? Something to remember her by? Oh, that’s romantic and sad. But what if this means that I’m the ticking time bomb? You could have stayed and made a huge difference, right? You could have… turned that whole place upside down and made it better for everyone. From the sounds of it, I’m sure not evil me would have been down to clown... Which, great. Now I’m gonna spend my days thinking that me getting the wrong Starbucks order is going to be my start of darkness or something equally stupid. Your friends will think I’m a lunatic...”
Her eyes darted backwards, looking at the team, chatting and oblivious. Superboy was sitting off to the side, quietly watching as everyone wrapped up their work, Wondergirl and Arrowette were catching up, whilst Impulse spoke to Jinny and Naomi. Stephanie felt abruptly ashamed and as a result shifted, almost trying to hide herself behind Tim.
With a firmness and certainty that reflected Stephanie when she had rebuked his earlier guilt, Tim pressed her cheeks together to make her face scrunch up in a pout
“You… are not evil. You never will be if I have any say in the matter. Think you’re about the least capable of it in Gotham, if not in the world. You pulled me back last month from the brink of being a monster. I’d say I’d do the same for you, but I’ll never have to. You’re not stained by the dark.”
She blinked owlishly. Tim was not often that grand and romantic (though he could be histrionic), so it made her blush to be spoken of so highly. Still, her nagging concern, an uncomfortable tightness in the pit of her belly, remained.
“You could have stayed there,” she insisted. She was holding onto the fact that Tim had returned wearing a costume and a name which had been gifted to him on another earth. A name from his alternate self and a costume from an alternate her. There was something to be dissected there right? What would a psychologist make of that tangle of identity and interpersonal relationships?
He had returned from an earth where motives were selfish, and heroes were rare. He had returned wearing a name that was simultaneously his and yet not, wearing a costume that was not hers to grant. Tim wanted more than anything to make a difference. That world was ripe for his ambition.
Tim did not even seem concerned at such a concept. For once, it seemed he had not even given the matter much thought.
“Sure. Maybe I could have stayed. She would have been happy if I had. That Stephanie didn’t have anyone to help her. She…I think she was very lonely.”
Steph sighed shakily, and Tim held her closer. He knocked his forehead against hers, and her grip went up to cradle his face. They kissed, and Tim heard and felt Stephanie’s right foot pop up.
Finally granted the kiss she had been craving for hours, Tim swallowed the sound of her whimper. Not even remotely ashamed of who could be watching, Stephanie deepened the kiss and moved closer, curving her body against Tim as she tugged at his neck, encouraging him to make it harder.
It had been too long, and Stephanie was sure she was developing a complex regarding Tim, like if she took her eyes off him for three seconds he would – for the third time in a year – be zipped off to another dimension. It was almost funny how much the two of them could apparently not stay joint at the hip as they desired, and Stephanie suspected she may have started developing some bizarre attachment disorder as a result.
Although, it was worth it for moments when they kissed like this. When Tim allowed himself to feel like a seventeen-year-old. Kissing felt good. Kissing Stephanie felt great. She always tasted of cinnamon gum and liked to hold his cheek and tug his hair and she made cute squeaks when he –
No, he couldn’t get too carried away.
Tim ended the kiss with a most content sigh, like his worries had been laid to rest forever (which was false and a lie, but he indulged in it for now), and kept his eyes shut.
“I came back,” he whispered, keeping his forehead on hers and missing how Stephanie looked a little cross eyed from the kiss. “Because I had to get home to you. I promised, even if I couldn’t keep to two days. I had to come home.”
“To me,” Stephanie breathed. Looking at him reverently, she cradled his chin and kissed him again.
“To you,” Tim confirmed. “I missed you, Steph.”
She tugged him closer, making him rest his forehead against her shoulder as she buried a hand in his hair.
“Missed you too, boy wonder.”
They embraced for a moment too long, then Tim pulled back a little to speak into her ear.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone. Properly. I’m sure Bart did a rush job of it. They already know you, which isn’t fair. You should get to know them again.”
He very distinctly felt her tremble. Fighting monsters, fine. Facing her dad down, fine. Meeting her boyfriend’s friends? Terrifying.
Tim hopped down off the truck, but held out his arms, fully intent on catching her. Stephanie looked around once more. It seemed Wondergirl and Naomi were wandering over to the truck, so she swallowed her fear. She leapt off the car, straight into Tim’s arms. He caught her easily and spun her around twice, making her laugh sharply, until using the momentum he flung her up and off. She landed on her feet with a delighted shriek, and it was with that smile on her face that Cassie reached them.
To Stephanie’s surprise and delight, she was enveloped in a warm hug.
“It’s so nice to see you again. Both of you,” Cassie said. Chin resting on Stephanie’s caped shoulder, Cassie saw Tim’s look of relief and gratitude. “You guys will stick around a bit?” she insisted, raising her eyebrows in a gentle chide.
Stephanie choked on her reply, not sure how to react. Behind her, Tim grimaced. Why was she so reluctant around his friends? Was it because she didn’t want to know them, or because she didn’t feel she had the right too?
“I… I want to,” she said, Tim watching her struggle. “But-but my dad…”
Stephanie looked over her shoulder at Tim for guidance, and Cassie broke out the hug. Seeing Stephanie’s hand reach back, Tim took it tightly. He could see in her face no disdain or dislike, just insecurity and the realisation that she didn’t know how best to say her father was a pressing issue without seeming like a haughty holier than thou girlfriend.
Paradoxically, Tim relaxed. That angle was much easier to deal with. It simply was that Stephanie was nervous, and unsure of what her place was in the team. They had their memories of each other back. She held no such memories. She felt locked out, and undeserving.
How to make her understand…
“We have one loose end to tie up at our end,” Tim explained. Playing with Steph’s fingers, he had a sudden thought as a solution. “After though, how about the fact that we’re gonna need to see if the place in Rhode Island is still standing? The team should be able to use it again.”
“Huh?”
Cassie chuckled at Steph's confusion, and smiled broadly at the thought of returning to Mount Justice.
“You’ll love it Spoiler. Better than living out the back of a truck, believe me.”
Stephanie seemed bemused, like she had just suspected Cassie of mocking her but also not hearing any genuine insult in the dig at her current living circumstances.
Cassie wasn’t mocking her. She didn’t have a passive aggressive bone in her body and was not capable of being underhand. She was only trying to gently tease, as a friend would do.
Not that Stephanie knew that, but still, Tim’s heart stuttered for her.
Tim kissed Stephanie’s cheek and explained, “It was Young Justice’s home away from home. There’s a whole headquarters up there. An old Justice League site.”
“We appropriated it,” Cassie said. Her eyes were patient and encouraging. Stephanie, meanwhile, still did not understand.
“That’s cool,” she said politely. Tim sighed good naturedly, exasperated at her obtuseness.
“Stephie,” Tim moaned as she burned red from the pet name in front of his friends. He jerked his head at Conner, begging his direct nature to intercede.
“Whu—”
Endlessly patient, Tim stated, “It’s gonna be your home away from home too. If you want it to be. It can be all of ours again.”
She could not reply, as she was then embraced in a bear hug courtesy of Superboy. Cassie smirked, then called for the others to come gather. Tim held onto Stephanie’s fingers, and watched carefully what Conner did and spoke. Tim had seen that melancholy look from earlier as Conner had watched the team.
Tim knew Conner was feeling a little out of place, but he was grateful that he had put it aside to help Tim and welcome Stephanie. Hidden to Stephanie, he mouthed a thank you in Conner’s direction, who responded by wiggling his head in smug satisfaction.
Stephanie remained oblivious, her only thought as she endured the hug was at the blatant display of strength and control that the clone displayed. She grunted when he squeezed the bear hug tighter but found herself smiling all the same. There was only genuine joy and laughter in Conner’s voice as he teased.
“Hey, we finally got the lovebirds in the same room again, huh? It’s been a while, Spoiler, even if Tim says you don’t remember.”
When he set her down, she returned to Tim, holding his hand still. She didn’t understand why Superboy saying such a thing made the pit of nerves in her gut settle, but the warmth that bloomed in her chest made her smile until her cheeks hurt.
“I’m sorry I don’t. Remember, that is.”
Conner shrugged, “Hey, we’re still young. Gotta lifetime to fix that. Or make new memories. Or both.”
Tim’s hand snuck round her waist, and he pressed his cheek to her temple.
“We’ll deal with your dad. Then we’ll go home?”
“Home?” Stephanie asked.
“Second home,” he quantified.
Looking at the friendly faces surrounding the pair of them, Stephanie smiled awkwardly and nodded.
A home away from home sounded…nice.
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alindakb · 3 years
Text
Good intentions gone wrong - by Alinda
Stiles never planned to come back to Beacon Hills. Not after Derek broke his heart and defiantly not after Lydia almost died. He moved away, choose a college on the other side of the country and forgot about the supernatural world. The only one he still talked to was his dad. He told him about Erica and Boyd getting married, Scott becoming a vet and about Lydia’s recovery. They never talked about what happened between Derek and him, or about how Derek was doing now because Stiles didn’t want to know.
But life doesn’t always go according to plan. And Stiles should have known that, after all the crap he’d been throw in high school. It all started on a sunny day in April. He and his new BFF Mary were staring at the clouds when she told him. She had the gene, she was going to remove it all. Only she really wanted to be a mom. So they decided to have a baby together. And a year later a little boy was born. She called him Jonathan, after her father, but Stiles gave him the nickname Clouds. And Clouds was a handful. Mary took a semester off to take care of him while Stiles finished his bachelor.
The doctors had told Mary to come back in after six months to prepare for her surgery. They did some tests and took some scans. Stiles came home one day to find her crying on her bed. She screamed at him and he let her. She had two surgeries, chemo, and radiation therapy. And then the nurses started to look at him with pity. Stiles knew what that meant. It was the same look people started to give his dad when his mother was dying. Mary was not going to make it.
Scott got on the first flight to Boston after Stiles called. Even after all those years of radio silence, Scott was still his best friend. Scott told Mary all about werewolves, about his pack, and about the risks of the bite. Mary just told him to do it. She was dying anyway. So Scott gave her the bite. Stiles cried when he saw the black tears coming out of her eyes. He held her while she screamed because off the pain. Scott left them alone. They said their goodbyes and Stiles promised to take care of Clouds. Promised to bake him a cake on his birthdays and to learn him how to ride a bike. And then she died.
His father flew over for the funeral. And afterward they drove back to Beacon Hills. Stiles his belongings put into boxes. He was quiet and scared. Back home he moved back into his old childhood bedroom. He and Scott painted the guestroom, sky blue, with clouds on the walls and ceiling. Stiles enrolled in the master’s program of the local college and took mostly online classes, so he could take care of his baby boy. Lydia came by, but all the other members of the pack left him alone. Stiles was sure he had Scott to thank for that.
Time went by and Stiles settled back into living in Beacon Hills. He and Scott started hanging out again and Stiles helped Lydia with her classes. She still had problems remembering things, and Stiles thought her the tricks he ones learned from his mother. They really seemed to help her, and Stiles was glad Lydia looked more like her old self than she had done five years ago. She and Scott talked about the pack. About the members that Stiles knew and about the new editions. The people Scott had given the bite to save their lives and the omega’s that had joint over the last couple of years. Nobody talked about Derek.
After three months, Stiles met up with Erica and Boyd. They had a little baby girl, only four months younger than Clouds. They arranged play dates for the kids and talked about how Erica loved being a hairdresser while Boyd was the stay at home dad. It was nice to see his old friends again. And slowly he was reintroduced to them all. Isaac worked at the sheriff station and was in love with a nice girl named Patricia. Ethan and Aiden worked at the local garage, and Ethan was happy to tell Stiles that he was invited to his and Danny’s wedding. Danny worked for an internet company.
Slowly he became a part of the pack again, Allison took him shopping for baby clothes, Isaac learned him how to shoot a gun, Aiden started giving him fighting lessons and Scott started to include him when making pack decisions. The new members of the pack treated him with respect and one of the teenagers even offered babysitting duties, if Stiles ever wanted a night off. The only person Stiles never saw was Derek. And Stiles was sure it was for the best.
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Derek had regretted breakings Stiles heart the second after he had done it. Seeing the tears stream down his face, hearing him beg for another chance, it was heartbreaking. But Derek was sure that Stiles would die because of him, so he had to let him go. Stiles told him one last time he loved him, only to hear Derek say that he didn’t love him back. It was a lie. Derek was sure he would never love anyone as most as he loved Stiles.
Two hours later, Derek had packed his stuff into a duffel bag and got in his Camaro, leaving Beacon Hills, planning to never come home again.
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Life went on, Cloud started to walk and talk. Stiles could see Mary in his smile and he missed her. Danny and Ethan got married, and it was an amazing party. Stiles looked at his friends, all in love and happy. Scott talked with Allison, Isaac left early with his girlfriend, Erica and Boyd danced with their baby in their arms and Lydia was standing on the side of the dance floor with Aiden’s arms around her waist. And Stiles was alone.
Stiles couldn’t help himself and the next day he asked Scott about Derek. Stiles had expected to see him at the party, but he hadn’t been there. Nobody talked about him and Stiles was starting to fear the reason why. Scott just looked at Stiles with a sad face. Telling him Derek didn’t like parties, so why would he show up at one? And Stiles knew Scott was hiding something from him.
So Stiles started to investigate. Talking to the pack members who join after Stiles had left. But none of them knew Derek. They all had heard about him, knew he was still alive, but they had never met him in person. Isaac was the only one still talking to him.
Isaac was as forthcoming with information about Derek as Scott had been. Telling Stiles to leave it alone. But Stiles couldn’t do that because he never stopped loving him. Even if he tried to convince himself he had moved on, he knew he hadn’t. Mary had known, he’s sure that’s why she made him promise to move back to Beacon Hills, because of Derek. The one person he talked about in his sleep, the person he compared every potential partner with, making them look like second hands. He had fucked other guys in college, but he had never loved them back. Because his heart still belonged to someone else.
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Derek had made up his mind after Cora had died. The only reason she was alone that night was because Derek stayed over at Stiles. They had been looking for him, to take their revenge, only to find his sister. They had taken her life to punish him. She would be the last person that would die because he loved them.
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Stiles finished his masters after he lived in Beacon Hills for a year and a half. He was twenty-six years old, had a two-year-old son, no job and he still lived with his dad. He had been the best man at Scott and Allison their wedding, and he had wished Derek would have been there to dance with. Or that Mary could have been there to make fun of his speech that wasn’t funny at all. Scott had been blushing the entire time Stiles had been talking while Allison her father started to look like he would kill Scott in his sleep.
Derek didn’t live in Beacon Hills anymore. That was all Stiles had found out in a year. Derek left no traces on social media. And nobody wanted to talk about him. Danny had told him to stop looking when he asked him to break into Derek’s bank accounts. Isaac got mad when he heard about it. He screamed at Stiles to leave it. Derek had moved on and so should he. What Isaac didn’t realize was that his outburst made Stiles fear even more for Derek’s wellbeing.
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Even after five years he still woke up with Stiles on his mind. Derek had felt guilty after Isaac had told him that Stiles had left for college and was never planning to move back to Beacon Hills. It had been Stiles home and Derek drove him away, even after he left. Isaac called him every month, to make sure he was okay. He told him he was still part of the pack and he was always welcome back. And sometimes he longed for it, to go home. He got an invitation for Scott and Allison’s wedding, naming Stiles the best man. And that was what made him ride back to Beacon Hills. Wondering why Stiles came back.
Derek is standing in the tree line, looking at Stiles his old home. A little boy is running around the car while Stiles puts some bags in the trunk. The boy has Stiles his eyes. There is no doubt in Derek’s mind that the boy is Stiles kid. Tears start to form in his eyes when he sees Stiles lift the little man up and hug him. He places the kid in his seat, before getting in the car himself, driving away. Derek is happy for Stiles. He moved on with his life, found a nice girl to spend his life with and has a beautiful kid. Derek had his change and now he had to live with the consequences.
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Stiles finds a part-time job at the local newspaper. He uses their archives to try and find Derek. He doesn’t talk about him anymore in front of the others, but that doesn’t mean he stopped looking. It’s like some outside force is making him look for Derek. He can’t help shake the feeling that Derek is slowly slipping away.
The news archives are no big help. But the phone records of Isaac, that his father gets him, are. It turns out Isaac had been talking to Derek every month, until a couple of months ago. Isaac keeps calling, but Derek doesn’t seem to answer anymore. The sheriff looks up Derek his cellphone GPS coordinates. Stiles is shocked to learn he was in Beacon Hills a month before Scott’s wedding. It was the first time Derek stopped answering Isaac calls. Only two months later Isaac had his outburst.
Stiles doesn’t miss the meaning of this. Derek saw something when he was in Beacon Hills that made him break all contact. It’s at that moment that Clouds runs into Stiles. Only fifteen minutes later Stiles is screaming at Scott at the vets office. Deaton tells them to move it to the back, but Stiles is beyond reason. He wants to know if Scott knew why Derek broke up with him all those years ago. Because Stiles is starting to believe it wasn’t because he stopped loving him.
After Stiles little breakdown, he finally hears the truth. Scott tells him about how Derek left after he broke up with Stiles. He tells him that Isaac used to call him every month to make sure he was okay. And then Isaac tells him that Derek once confessed to him that he left because he was afraid he was going to be the reason Stiles would die before he was even able to finish high school.
Stiles cries himself to sleep that night.
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It is Scott that finds him. He can hear him making calls, but he is too weak to respond. He doesn’t want to be saved. He just wants to die.
Isaac is looking at him when he wakes up in a hospital bed. He calls him an idiot and says the unthinkable before he leaves.
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Stiles hasn’t been to visit Derek at the hospital. He hasn’t looked him up when he moved into Isaac his guestroom. And he is not planning to. Not until he’s sure Derek wants to see him too.
And then his car starts doing funny things on his way back home. Clouds is sitting in the backseat, playing with a dinosaur. Stiles calls Ethan. He tells him he can bring the car round right now, that one of their mechanics will have time to look at it. When he arrives at the garage, he sees Derek talking to Aiden. Stiles hadn’t thought he would look so skinny. When Stiles comes closer he can see that most of the muscles are gone, Derek has become skin over bones. Scott had said he looked bad, but this is even worse than Stiles had imagined.
Derek walks away when Stiles gets out of his car. Stiles wants to follow, but he has Clouds with him, so he turns to the backseat and unbuckles his kid. Clouds takes his dinosaur with him. Aiden tells him he can wait in the office at the back. Stiles takes a couple of books from the backseat to read to Clouds while they wait.
Aiden comes back after only fifteen minutes. Clouds is playing with his dinosaur, so Stiles leaves him alone to talk to Aiden. The car just needed a small fix up and Stiles is glad to hear it. When he comes back into the office to collect Clouds he finds him sitting in Derek’s lap, listening to one of his favorite stories. Clouds doesn’t even notice Stiles coming in, so Stiles just sits down in one of the chairs to wait for the end of the story. Derek looks at him briefly, before he continues reading. Stiles is shocked by the emptiness off his eyes. He wonders what happened to Derek before Scott found him in the woods.
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Derek cries after Stiles leaves. Isaac comes to take him home and Aiden tells him he can take as many days off as he needs.
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Stiles sees Derek again a couple of days later when he’s buying groceries. He leaves him alone like Scott had asked him to do. Derek needs time. That’s what Scott had said. But Stiles still loves him, even more now he saw him interact with his son. And the only thing he really wants to do is take care of him.
Derek drops his shopping basket, and Stiles can see the tears forming in his eyes. He walks over quickly and starts picking up Derek’s items. Clouds follows his example and the little kid tries to lift a big carton of milk. Stiles helps him before the carton falls again. When they placed all the items back into the shopping basket, Stiles finally looks up at Derek. He’s still standing on the same spot, looking at his shaking hands. Tears are falling down his cheeks and Stiles just wants to hug him and tell him he’s going to be alright. But he can’t, not until Derek tells him he’s allowed to.
Cloud also looks at Derek, but he isn’t stopped by grown-up rules. He just wraps his little arms around one of Derek’s legs en hugs him. Stiles is proud of his little kid until he sees the reaction on Derek’s face. His soft crying has turned into uncontrolled howling. Derek’s body is shaking all over. Stiles can’t help but feel responsible for his pain. He takes another step closer and pulls Derek into a hug. He doesn’t care that everybody tells him to leave Derek be. He can’t just leave him like this in the groceries store.
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He’s sitting on the sofa with a cup of hot coffee in his hands. Stiles had brought him to his place after he paid for all their groceries. He could hear Stiles upstairs, putting Clouds down for his nap. Derek wonders where his mother is.
When Stiles walks back into the living room he sits down on the sheriff's chair. The question comes out of nowhere, and Derek is afraid to answer. He hasn’t told anybody. They all want to know what happened to him. Only Isaac seems to suspect, but he keeps quiet. And now Stiles wants to know. But how do you tell somebody you stopped eating because of them.
And then Stiles says he’s sorry he didn’t fight harder for their love before he leaves Derek on his own.
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Stiles is making dinner in the kitchen when his dad comes home. Derek is still sitting on their sofa. Clouds is coloring at the dining table. His dad kisses his grandson on his head before giving Stiles a wondering look. Stiles doesn’t know either. Derek hasn’t said a word to Stiles since he came back, but he won’t leave. Stiles texted Isaac to let him know what happened, but Isaac has decided to go into radio silence, just like Scott.
Derek walks into the kitchen when Stiles is serving dinner. His dad had put out an extra plate for Derek and he takes it without a word. Derek hardly touches his food, just like the cup of coffee that turned cold while he was holding it the entire afternoon. Stiles wishes he knew how to help him, but as long Derek won’t tell them what happened, he doesn’t know how.
“Did you really call your son Clouds?”
The sheriff laughs at Derek’s question, he always said it was a stupid nickname. Stiles is just happy Derek finally said something.
“No, his mother named him Jonathan.”
“So why do you call him Clouds?”
Stiles smiles at the memory. “Because the decision to have him was made watching the clouds.”
“And he hates the name, Jonathan.” His dad elaborates.
The table goes quiet again, except for the noises Clouds makes while eating. Stiles sees Derek look at his kid and then back at his plate. He takes his fork and finally starts eating. The sheriff leaves the table when he finishes his plate, taking Clouds with him upstairs.
Derek finishes his entire plate without saying another word. Stiles just sits there waiting for him to finish. His dad will take care of Clouds. After Derek is finished eating he looks up at Stiles, his eyes look more like the ones Stiles fell in love with all those years ago and not like the empty ones he saw a couple of days ago, the ones that had haunted him during his sleep.
“What happened to his mother?”
“She died, cancer.”
“Did you love her?”
“She was my best friend. I wanted to help her, but I ended up killing her.”
Derek just nods his head.
“I’m sorry.” And then Derek just starts crying again. Stiles moves closer, so he can get his arm around Derek. Derek rests his head on Stiles' shoulder while Stiles holds him close. Stiles doesn’t know what Derek is sorry about, what made him start to cry again. And he defiantly didn’t expect Derek to start talking.
“After Cora, I thought everybody I love would die. So I pushed you away, hoping it would save your life. I thought I could live without you if it meant you were still alive. But I couldn’t. I stopped living. The only thing I did was wander around forests that weren’t my home. For a long time, Isaac was the only person I talked to. And then he told me you had come home and had asked about me. So I came back.”
“Then I saw you with Clouds, and I knew I was too late. You had moved on. So I turned around, but I couldn’t get myself to leave the preserve. There was nothing for me left to live for.”
Stiles waits for more, for the horrible that happened to Derek, that made him loose so much weight. But nothing comes. Stiles mind is racing, cause Derek just told him he still loves him, has always loved him. There was nothing left to live for after Derek thought Stiles had moved on. Nothing left to live for. And that is when it hits Stiles. There had been no monsters, just a man that had no will to live.
“You did this to yourself,” Stiles whispered, “Because of me.”
“I’m sorry.” Derek cries.
It just makes Stiles mad.
“You stupid idiot! We could have been happy together! But you decided on your own that I would be better off without you. Well, I wasn’t. Everywhere I looked I saw memories of us together, so I left Beacon Hills. And even after that, I just looked for guys who looked like you, but they were never you. I was afraid to stay in touch with all my friends because I was afraid they would tell me you would be perfect. Because you are, okay, you are perfect. And I love you, I love you. You’ve always had me.”
Stiles screaming had changed to weeping somewhere in his monolog. He didn’t realize he was crying until he stopped talking.
“You almost killed yourself for no reason. What if you had died, where would that leave me? Do you really want me to be alone for the rest of my life?”
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Derek had known that leaving Stiles had been a mistake, that almost taking his own life had been a mistake, and that he wanted nothing more than to make up for his mistakes. Stiles was sitting next to him, tears rolling over his cheeks. The boy he had left behind had grown into a young man. A man that had never stopped loving him, even after Derek failed to protect Lydia after Derek broke his heart in a million pieces. And Stiles just told him there would never be anyone else he would want to be with. For the first time in years Derek smiled. He really smiled.
Stiles looked at him like he was crazy, but he couldn’t stop from smiling himself. They just smiled at each other, until Derek placed his shaking hand on Stiles' cheek. He whipped away a tear with his thumb before he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Stiles' lips.
Stiles' arms were wrapped around him in seconds, holding Derek close. And they just kissed, and then kissed some more. Making up for seven years of lost kisses.
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Epilogue
Derek places his arms around Stiles' waist.
“He’s going to be fine.”
Stiles knows that Clouds will love school, but still. It feels weird to let him go. Stiles places his hand on Derek’s. Their wedding bands touching as he does. It brings a smile to his face, remembering their wedding day. Derek asked him the morning after they got back together after he had made pancakes for Clouds. Stiles had said yes before Derek had time to finish his question. His dad had been in the room and Stiles can still remember him smiling at the scene in front of him. Clouds had just kept eating his breakfast.
Derek moved in with Stiles that day. And a month later they were married. Clouds had started calling Derek papa after two months. Stiles had cried when that happened for the first time.
Derek had never skipped another meal in all the years they were married.
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