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boldlyvoid · 10 months

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Falling For You.

[REQUEST] spencer reid x BAU!reader but they're in a secret relationship, and basically she gets him to watch all these romcoms, so when he makes a reference to something like Notting Hill or You've Got Mail and then the whole secret is blown.

warnings: mentions of lila archer, spoilers for 90s/2000s rom-coms, co-workers to lovers, love confessions, implied smut, secret relationships.

word count: 2.4k

It was no secret that the newest team member had a thing for romantic comedies. From the little jokes she made with Penelope to the quote from Pretty Woman on her travel mug, she was a walking Rom-Com reference.

Hotch understood some of the references, JJ would talk her ear off about her favourites, and even Emily and Derek would jokingly re-enact that scene from When Harry Met Sally every time they had a team lunch. It was only Spencer who didn’t get the jokes, and after having to explain them all to him 1 too many times, she finally invited him over to watch some.

The first one they watched together was Can’t Buy Me Love. Patrick Dempsey, a loveable nerd has been saving up all summer to buy the telescope of his dreams when the girl next door accidentally ruins her mom's favourite dress and needs to buy a replacement… he ends up buying it for her on the condition that she pretends to date him so his Senior Year can be his best year yet. Spencer likes the movie overall, he wishes someone in his high school took enough pity on him to make him popular. But his favourite scene is when they go to the abandoned airplane graveyard and watch the stars in his homemade telescope.

“I can make one of those,” Spencer whispers to her.

“Really?”

He nods, “It would be pretty easy… maybe we could go star gazing someday too?” He asks, biting the bullet and making this movie date the first of many dates they’d go on.

—

The next movie they watch is Never Been Kissed. Drew Barrymore is a nerdy reporter who goes undercover at a high school and gets to relive her teen years while falling in love for the first time. Spencer likes this one because he can relate, he never had his first kiss until well into his 20s… and she was an actress, too. When he explains that to Y/N she can’t believe it, but he has the magazine photos of them saying goodbye after the case to prove it.

“Have you kissed many people since then?” She asks, wishing he’d move a little closer to her and steal one.

He nods, “a few.”

“anyone good?”

He shakes his head, “no, I’m saving the best kiss for last.”

She looks puzzled? “What?”

“My best kiss will be from the girl I end up marrying,” he gives her a smile and moves his hand over to hold hers.

“Oh,” she bites back a smile and looks down at their interlocked fingers. “Have you at least met her yet?”

“I think so…”

“Well, then shouldn’t you kiss her to find out if she’s the right one?” She teases, leaning into his space even more.

“I suppose you’re right,” he teases, he cups her face with his free hand and rubs his thumb over her cheek, “are you sure you’re okay with this?”

She nods and leans in all the way this time. Effectively pressing their lips together. And even for a first kiss, it sure does feel different. It feels like her last first kiss ever.

—

Keeping it a secret at work is hard when all they want to do is stare at each other with googly-eyes, they’ve fallen head over heels for each other and not told a single soul. No one knows about their movie dates or their real dates either. No one knows they’ve spent a whole night kissing or that they really, really, don’t mind sharing the hotel room with the two queen beds. And they definitely don’t know that they only slept in the one. Together. The whole week they were away.

After the case ends, they head back to her apartment for their mandated 48 hours off with the pan to watch as many movies as they can.

The third movie they watch is You’ve Got Mail.

“Rival bookstore owners hate each other in real life, yet on the internet manage to fall madly in love with one another. Based on an older movie called The Shop Around The Corner, it’s a beloved story brought to life once again by the one and only Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.”

She explains every movie like this before they put it on. He’s honestly only watching them because he loves listening to her talk about them.

“You see, they both have partners in real life but they email each other every day, as friends… but you know what it's like in movies like these,” she smirks. “Best friends who have a lot in common find it easy to fall in love.”

“That they do,” he agrees.

He raises his arm over the back of the couch and she sits back, leaning into his side just as his hand lands on her shoulder. They snuggle up close, she hits play and he watches with glee, not knowing this was going to become his favourite movie by the time it’s over.

His favourite line is when two cars honk at each other and their drivers get out to argue, followed by Meg Ryan saying “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” Which is something Tom Hanks says to her in an email earlier that morning.

He loves the way the old man recalls a woman of his past and called her “enchanting” because what a wonderful thing to say about a woman.

He giggles when Tom Hanks tosses aside Pride and Prejudice cause he just doesn’t get it the way Meg's character does. But ultimately, he picks it back up because he wants to get to know her through her reading history.

“I sympathize with Frank,” Spencer whispers as he brings out a typewriter when they have a perfectly good computer at her house.

“I know,” she laughs. “I love the tablets at work, I can’t believe you still have Penny paint the files out for you.”

You are a lone reed standing tall, waving boldly in the curet sands of commerce. Frank compliments Kathleen, or at least he tries to.

Spencer giggles again. “I remember what it was like being a lone Reid,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She gets all flustered, so madly in love with him that she wants to scream it from the rooftops but it feels way too soon. They’re only 3 movies into their relationship. Maybe at 10, she’ll tell him. Till then, she looks over at him and steals a real kiss.

Kathleen is so passionate about her books in the same way that Y/N loves her movies. Spencer sees so many similarities between them that it’s really no wonder that Tom Hanks’ character falls in love with her. Passionate, kind, beautiful women will always have a place in Spencer's heart.

Their 4th movie is another Meg Ryan classic; When Harry Met Sally, and now Spencer understands why Derek pretends to have an orgasm when he eats a good salad…

Their 5th movie is Notting Hill and Y/N can tell he doesn’t like it very much because unlike William Tucker, the actress who kissed Spencer never talked to him again after that.

Their 6th movie, however, is Pretty Woman. And while they shared a bed all through the last case, they’ve never really slept together. So watching a movie all about sex and falling in love really didn’t help the frustration they were both feelings. By the time the movie ended, it was almost midnight and they should’ve been getting ready for bed.

She gets up and heads to her room, expecting him to follow but he just stands in her doorway, watching with a bit of anxiety in his gut.

“So…” Spencer asks. “What happens after he climbs up and rescues her?”

She stills, her heart fills with love and she quickly makes his way to him. She cups his face in her hands, staring up at him. “She rescues him right back.”

“Indeed you have,” he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “You know what all these movies have in common?”

“What?” She has no idea where he’s going with this.

“They all fell in love pretty quickly, I mean just look at Vivian and Edward, it took them less than a week,” he explains. “So I don’t feel too crazy when I say… I love you, Y/N. I love you so very much.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispers between kisses.

They kiss and kiss and he walks with her, leading her toward the bed where they fall in and make love for the first time. It's hot and close and emotional. It's slow and steady and perfect. It’s everything both of them have dreamed of when they finally met the one.

—

On their second day off they watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, 13 Going On 30, 50 First Dates, A Walk to Remember, 10 Things I Hate About You, and The Holiday. They would’ve gotten to more if they weren’t so wrapped up in one another. By the time they go back to work, they’ve gotten through half of her list of favourite movies.

He’s not sure if it’s luck or coincidence or what… but their next case happens to be in New York.

When they land, they get into their Bureau-issued SUVs and weave in and out of traffic on their way to the scene. They’re honked at multiple times and Spencer just smirks to himself. It’s not until they get out and they’re honked at once again, with some guy yelling at them to get out of his way, that Spencer turns to her and says. “Don’t you love New York in the fall?”

She giggles and shoves him, “Shut up.”

“It’s not the fall?” JJ remarks, not knowing why he’d say such a thing or why she’d react like that.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Emily thinks it over for a second. “That’s a line from you’ve got mail!”

“How would Spencer know that movie?” JJ laughs it off.

Spencer turns to beat red with embarrassment. “I’ve seen it…”

“You’ve seen you’ve got mail?” Derek even rides him for this slip-up. “And when do you have time to watch rom-coms?”

“I’ve seen the original,” he lies. “It’s based on The Shop Around The Corner. My mom liked it before she got sick.”

“Okay,” they drop it there.

Thankfully.

And by the time the case ends, 3 days have passed, the unsub has been booked into Jail at 9am and they’re free to go home. If they want to. Derek suggests they all go out for breakfast, and Hotch says he rather go home and sleep. JJ wants to go shopping and Emily’s right there with her.

Spencer on the other hand, he opens his phone and sends Y/N a message.

“There’s a place in Riverside Park at 91st street where the path curves and there’s a garden. I’ll be waiting there for you.”

She digs her phone out of her pocket seconds later and smiles, a small sigh leaves her as her shoulders slump. She’s so in love with him it's unreal.

“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asks her. “Do you want to come with us?”

“No… no, I have a friend in town I want to meet up with.”

“Looks like it’s just me and you for breakfast, pretty boy,” Derek teased, wrapping his arm around Spencer.

He shakes his head, “Actually, I was thinking about going on a little sightseeing adventure, you know I only come to new york for work.”

“Fine then,” Derek drops it and he, Emily and JJ watch as Spencer and Y/N head off, out of the precinct and in different directions. “I bet you ten bucks they’re meeting up.”

“Hold on,” JJ says as she calls up Penelope. “Hey, yeah, can you tell me where Spencer and Y/N’s GPS pings in 20 minutes?”

“I can… why?” Penny asks nervously.

“No reason. Just a hunch.”

When Penelope eventually calls her back all she has to say is Riverside Park at 91st Street and they know.

—

Y/N gets there first, she’s never seen this place in person before. The flowers are even more vibrant than in the movie. There are bees dancing around every other flower, couples walking around hand in hand, people on dog walks and moms with their strollers. It’s just an average early morning in New York.

And then she sees him. He comes rounding the corner, he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers wrapped in newspaper… at least she thinks they’re flowers.

What they don’t notice is their friends on the other side of the garden, watching them get closer and closer until they’re chest to chest. He wraps his free hand around her waist, she cups his face in her own hands, and she stares up at him like he hung the stars just for her.

“I wanted it to be you,” Spencer whispers what was originally Meg Ryan's line. “I wanted it to be you so badly.”

“You sure did save the best for last,” she knows exactly what he means.

Just as they lean in to kiss, as his lips meet hers, they hear it. Someone is playing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” just for them. They smile into the kiss, shocked that their life is playing out like a perfectly written movie and then they see them.

It’s their own friends who played it. They’re clapping in the distance, “Woo!!” Emily cheers.

“We knew this would happen!” Derek throws in for good measure.

They can’t help but laugh, Spencer pulls her in for another kiss, a longer, more hearty kiss. He loves her and he wants everyone to know.

When she pulls back, she looks as though she could cry, so he extends the bouquet to her. It’s a bunch of yellow, newly sharpened number 2 pencils tied up with string.

“Don’t you love New York in the fall?”

“Not as much as I love you,” she says as she takes them, gladly. “Not even close.”

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#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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thewulf · 5 months

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Murder at the Motel || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - hiii !! can you write a hotch fic where him and reader (fem or gn) is in a rs and he suprise visits her and she was playing the hunt a killer game (which is like this game where you subscribe and you get a box every 6 months that's filled with details and clues and u solve the mystery case), or just any game like that... Read Rest Here

A/N: SUPER fluffy and sweet. Wrote this pretty quick for you guys! Let me know if you like :) As always, thank you for your requests!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 2.2k

“Son of a bitch.” You grumbled after attempting the code you thought you cracked for the fourth time to no avail. Setting down the wine glass that was far too empty you looked up at the clock on the wall sighing seeing as it was already 9 PM. You’d just gotten your latest murder mystery game in the mail and dove in after work. It was a Friday night and Aaron was off hunting another serial killer. Of course, you’d hidden it from him, you weren’t sure how. The man had picked up on everything that you did. But you’d been able to hide it away.

Not being completely sure why you’d hidden it from him you got up from the couch getting ready to pout yourself another glass of Pinot Grigio while you attempted to figure out the damn code that the lockbox was hiding away. This box was challenging you. Murder at the motel. You were usually able to fly through them, but this puzzle was stumping you. By now you’d usually be on your fifth clue, but you were sitting here stuck on the second without a clue on how you were going to figure it out.

Once the glass was poured you dove right back in trying your best to pick up on something you may have missed. Being so enraptured by the fluidity of the game you were completely clueless to you phone silently buzzing off to the side.

Little did you know your loving boyfriend of just over a year was trying to get ahold of you. The team had figured out the case and made it home much earlier than expected. Aaron decided to give the team the weekend off to relax and recover as he had ulterior motives in mind, spending the entire weekend with you.

After the passing of Haley, he was in a dark place. But then you popped up. You were walking your neighbors dog through the park when a sweet boy ran up to you asking to pet the small Pomeranian that had far too much attitude. You nodded happily letting the sweet boy pet and talk to the small dog who was loving all of the attention. You hadn’t a clue at the time you were meeting the child of the man you were going to love. One thing led to another, and you and Aaron were inseparable. He found peace in the slowness that you adored, and you found chaos in the life he lived. The two of you clicked like peas in a pod. Two happy little clams that were meant to be.

So, when you didn’t answer your phone for the fourth time Aaron freaked, naturally. Were you alright? Did somebody get to you like they did Haley? What if you were laying in a puddle of your own blood and it was his fault? He couldn’t do that again. Not to you. God, that would actually destroy him this time.

Using the sirens on his vehicle, which he knew was wrong, but he didn’t really give a damn, he flew on over to your house. His heart rate dropped a little when he saw your house lights on, but it didn’t slow him down as he ran to your front door banging on it a little too hard, “Sweetheart? Are you alright?” He called not wanting to freak you out if you were just being careless about your phone.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the banging on your front door started. You scurried to the front door once you heard his voice. What was he doing home so early?

Unlocking the door in a hurry you spotted the overly stressed out man standing there in his signature suit that looked far too good on him to have completely pure thoughts, “Aaron!” You grinned, “What are you doing home so early?”

He let out a breath of air he’d clearly been holding in. You watched as he placed an arm on the door frame trying to steady himself. Was he shaking?

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” He answered your question with one of his own.

You moved to the side so he could come in giving yourself a second to think. You didn’t really want to admit that you were far to engrossed in your fake killer game to look at your phone, that was too embarrassing to admit, “I was uh, busy?” You didn’t sound the most confident. You wanted to curse under your breath for sounding so unsure.

He cocked his head once he walked in, looking right at you with those damn profiler eyes, “Busy?” He questioned.

“Mhmm.” You hummed shutting the door behind you, “Crazy Friday night in.” You grinned pushing him towards the kitchen, away from the mess of a game you had sprawled out in the living room.

“Doing what sweetheart?” He was more curious now, nothing accusatory in his voice. This was just Aaron checking in.

He was going to find out, you just knew it. You’d been successful hiding the little side hobby from him for over a year. You weren’t going to get so lucky tonight, “Oh, you know. Doing things.”

His eyes scrunched together involuntarily as he studied you, profiled you. You knew it was just a habit but being under the gaze of the man who was profiling was much different than the soft Aaron you usually got. You shouldn’t have been surprised though. You were acting incredibly weird. Why couldn’t you just play it cool?

He smirked this time almost as if he knew he caught you doing something, “What kind of things love?” Pressing further he walked towards you giving you a quick kiss on the head before heading towards your living room.

Following him like a lost puppy dog you tried your best to walk around him. But his larger frame didn’t let you, “You know! Games and things!” In your futile attempt to push the papers away from the coffee table he grabbed you by the waist stopping you from clearing anything else. You would’ve protested but he pulled you right into him.

“Murder at the Motel?” His eyebrows raised seeing the box sitting right out in the open.

You sighed knowing you were caught, “Busted.”

His smirk grew further, “Hunt a Killer?”

You nodded, cheeks aflame with embarrassment, “Like I said, games and things.” Burying your head in his chest you hid yourself from the stupid feeling in your chest.

You felt his chest rumble into a fit of chuckles clearly finding the situation all too funny, “This says box number 23?”

You nodded still hiding away, “I’ve been subscribed for a while.” You had to admit to him. It’s not like you could lie to him. He was too damn good at calling you out on that bullshit. And truthfully, you were an awful liar. Far too many tells to try and get away with it.

He begrudgingly pulled you out of his chest. As much as he liked you cuddled up he wanted to actually speak to you, “No need to be embarrassed love.” He brushed your messed up hair away from your face, “Let’s play, yeah?” He sat down before reading the premise of the box.

“That wouldn’t be fair.” You huffed sitting down next to him.

He pulled you into his lap with ease, “And why’s that?”

You turned to him with that look on your face, “It’s not meant for profilers Aaron. You’ll figure it out in half a second.”

He shrugged, “I won’t say a word then.” Placing his hands up in defense he gave you a quick squeeze trying to get you to relax.

But you shook your head quickly, “We can watch a movie or something…”

“You don’t want to play?” He pressed knowing why you were likely uncomfortable with it. He was intimidating when it came to his job. The two of you rarely discussed it. He made sure to leave work at work and promised you he was just Aaron when he got home. He knew you probably felt insecure about the whole thing, he wasn’t dumb. He was a profiler. He sensed your rigidity the second he walked into your cozy home.

This time it was your turn to shrug, “It’s not that. I just… I just want you to relax?” God, why were you so embarrassing? Why couldn’t you just communicate to your partner of over a year?

He ran his hand gently down your back trying his best to get you eased, “This is relaxing. Being with you is relaxing sweetheart.” He leaned down giving the top of your head a quick kiss, “I’d love to play with you. But if you don’t want to that’s also completely fine. I just want to spend some time with you. This week has been tiring.” He admitted with a sad smile on his face, “Jack is at my moms for the rest of the weekend too.”

You peaked an eye up at him, “Promise you won’t judge if I mess up?”

He shook his head quickly. “I would never my sweet girl.” Finally, you relaxed into his touch admitting defeat to yourself. Fuck it? Why not play with Aaron. You needed help and here he was coming in to save the day.

“Alright Hotchner.” You sat up, “I’m trying to figure out the code for this lockbox.” You held the damn thing up dramatically, “I’ve already figured out that Rose is an absolute piece of shit liar, read her card. Doesn’t she just seem suspicious?” You tossed him the card of who you thought seemed to be the most suspicious.

He chuckled grabbing the card from you reading it over quickly. He nodded in agreement with you, “She does seem suspicious.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Are you being serious or are you being supportive right now?”

His smile finally reached his eyes seeing how seriously you really were treating the game, “Absolutely serious. There’s… inconsistencies in her story.”

“I knew it!” You grinned looking back at all the papers, “Which means we need to look into her fake ass alibi.”

Aaron couldn’t help but to watch in amazement as you worked through the puzzle with him. He knew how freaking smart you were, but he didn’t know how clever you were on top of it. He hardly made a sound as you worked through the second clue and finally pieced together the missing code. He watched in awe as you ripped through the third, fourth and fifth clues in no time at all. He had to question if you’d picked up on his profiling while he was with you for how well you were getting through the game without even a mere clue from him. While he wasn’t actively playing the game you were picking up on clues that went right over his head. If he wasn’t already madly in love his heart went into overdrive watching your brain work its magic.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when you spoke to him directly, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

His eyes glazed over your face once more. He loved the way your cheeks got a little rosy when you got excited about something. He adored the way you got animated when you asked questions or observed the world around you. He couldn’t get enough of your expressions that made him question everything. God, he was a sucker for you and only you.

He shook his head, “No reason love. You’re amazing is all.” In all your commotion you’d moved out of his lap and onto the floor spread out trying to piece together everything.

That stupid blush that always gave you away coated your cheeks once more as he watched you in awe, “Shush. It’s not that impressive Aaron.”

“Quite the contraire sweetheart. You’re remarkable. What can’t you do?” He joined you on the floor wanting to be close to you. Only you.

Looking away from him you didn’t try and stop the creeping smile that came from his continuous compliments, “Flatterer.”

“Not when it’s the truth.” He shot right back.

Ignoring his comment you continued, “You going to help me now or just continue to stare?” You pushed his shoulder lightly while shooting him a wink.

“Oh, I’m planning on staring at you love.” He threw the wink right back feeling all of the love in the moment. For the life of him he never could comprehend how he got so damn lucky with you, his girl. His forever. The best person to help raise Jack. The kindest woman he’s ever known. The full package was sitting right there in front of him and true to his word, he was planning on simply staring at you in absolute awe.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You stuck your tongue out at him before turning back to the papers trying to figure out the last clue.

“You know what’ll last even longer?” He asked.

You shook your head turning your body to look back over to him, “What’s that A?”

“Marriage.”

You nearly choked on your own spit trying to comprehend what the hell he was trying to put down, “What?”

“Marry me Y/N.” He said as if it was the most simple thing in the world. Like he had all the confidence he could ever need.

“You want to marry me?” Your heart started racing faster. Sure, you’d talked about it, but nothing ever really came from it. You weren’t expecting this. Not in the slightest.

He nodded, “Fuck baby. I want to spend every single waking moment with you. You’re it. You’re the one. I can’t do this life without you.”

You grinned scooting yourself right back into his lap, “Yeah?”

He nuzzled his head into your neck peppering soft kisses up it along your jaw line, “And I’m an ass for not having the ring ready. But we’ll go and get one tomorrow?”

Your grin gave him the answer he was looking for, “You know I don’t care about a ring Aaron. I’d marry you without a single thing.”

He gave you a massive squeeze holding you close in his lap, “Is that a yes then?”

Nodding your head quickly your eyes found his once more, “It’s a hell yes Aaron Hotchner.”

He let out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding at your enthusiastic response, “Baby, you just made me the happiest man in the world.”

“Same.” You gave his cheek a quick kiss, “Now, will you help me solve this damn game?”

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891

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astrophileous · 7 months

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DEREK TALKING TO LITTLE BUG WAS ADORABLE I'M NOT DOING WELL (i might just be touch starved idk)

also derek's definitely suuuper overprotective like even more when bug is pregnant, it's Bad

You're touch-starved, I'm touch-starved, we're all touch-starved boo. Isn't that why we're here fantasizing about fictional men :")

but omg yeah yeah yeah I see your vision. I think bcs of what happened to her, the doctor would recommend Extra Maternity Care for Bug. like Derek would've already been bad if it was a normal pregnancy, but as soon as he heard the word "risky" from the doctor's mouth, it was as if all sense flew out of the window

btw this turned out to be more emotional than I planned KJKJAASSJ I'M SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Derek's voice boomed in the middle of the HQ bullpen, attracting the attentions of fellow agents nearby including those of your team who were still in the office.

You rotated your head left and right, searching for the object of Derek's sudden vexation, only to realize a few seconds later that his eyes had been staring straight at you.

"You're talking to me?"

Instead of answering, Derek marched the few feet of distance separating you from him. "What are you doing, Bug?"

You raised your eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Um, strapping my gun to its holster?"

"You're not going out there."

"Excuse me?"

It had been a few weeks since the whole fiasco of your abduction. After a few days of staying in the hospital and a couple more weeks of bedrest, your doctor had finally cleared you back for duty. You were beginning to get antsy about going back to work, but your doctor's note was clear: you needed to take it easy once you were back, considering that the rough start to your pregnancy meant more risks looming overhead.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but for the sake of your baby, you swallowed the hard pill without a fight. Hotch couldn't be more understanding when you explained what was going on to him. He promised you that you could sit out any strenuous and potentially harming activities during the course of any investigation that might have fallen on the BAU's lap. Your fellow teammates were just as considerate, vowing to cover your ass at any instance you might need.

All and all, everyone around you was pretty clear-headed about the whole situation.

Except for Derek.

Since your last doctor visit, Derek had been driving you nuts with his overprotective streak. It was adorable, at first. The fact that he was extremely worried something might happen to you and the baby that he kept refusing to leave your side even when you were only stepping out to grab the mail or pay for takeout. But then, it got worse.

While his overprotectiveness seemed to have infiltrated every aspect of your life, it previously never affected your job at any capacity. Until now. You were seething internally over the fact that Derek had chosen to do this--to speak to you like this--at your place of work, where your coworkers could listen in to every word exchanged between the two of you.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you took a deep breath to press down the frustration, before your leveled voice spoke, "It's just a routine questioning, Derek. I'll be fine."

"You're not going out on the field, Bug."

"Derek." His name sounded like a threat through your teeth. "I'm not going out there to see a suspect, or to insert myself in a dangerous situation. Emily and I are just going to take a quick drive down to Woodbridge to interview the victim's family. Nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, Morgan," Emily's voice chimed in from somewhere to your left. "It's gonna be fine. It's just routine questioning. I'm sure we can ma--"

Emily stopped talking and threw her hands in surrender once she noticed the daggers in Derek's eyes. You watched as she scurried off, as far away from the two of you as possible.

"You promised you'll take it easy," Derek said.

"I am taking it easy! I told you, it's just a normal questioning!"

Your own anger was threatening to burst by this point. Before one or the two of you could say something further--something that would warrant a lengthy call from the HR department--Derek tugged you towards the vacant pantry in the corner. Once inside, he closed the door behind him to shut out the rest of the floor from your private conversation.

"Do you realize how insane you've been acting?" Your voice dripped with anger. "I know you're worried, I get it. I appreciate it. But jeez, Derek, you aren't letting me breathe here. I can't do anything without you lurking around my fucking neck!"

The last echo of your voice dissipated into thin air, and yet, Derek still seemed to be rooted in the same spot he had been standing on since the two of you entered this pantry. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before that intense gaze was back to lighting fire on your skin.

"Do you know you were dead?"

"What?"

"In that basement. You were dead when I found you."

The frown between your eyebrows cleared once you realized Derek was talking about the abduction.

He had been refusing to talk about that ever since you came back home.

"I couldn't find a pulse when I got to you. I was the one who did the chest compressions before the paramedics arrived. I saw the heart monitor, Bug. You flatlined." Derek took a large step forward. "You were dead, and I held you in my arms. So forgive me if you think I'm being crazy with all of this, but the sight of you not breathing isn't exactly something I wanna see twice in my life."

The weight of Derek's admission settled heavily in the center of the room. Little by little, the ice that had hardened inside your chest was starting to melt. You looked deeper into Derek's unrelenting gaze, realizing that beneath the irrational protectiveness actually lay a justifiable fear he was trying to hide.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Derek," you offered sincerely. "But you can't keep me on a leash just because you're scared of hypothetical scenarios. The past is just that: the past. I'm safe now. Me and the baby are safe and we're here with you."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. But you will drive me away if you keep this up," you told him. "Tell you what, I'll sit this one out for now. Just don't expect much from me for next time, yeah?"

"Thank you," Derek breathed out in relief. He closed the few feet of distance between the two of you in two long strides before securing you in his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to your hairline. "Thank you."

"Remember, this is a two-way street, Mister," you said as you looked straight into his eyes. "I'm expecting compromises to be made."

Derek flashed you a charming grin before answering, "Yes, ma'am."

When he pulled you in for a kiss, it was as if every remaining frustration in your bones dissolved into thin air.

The next few weeks managed to transpire in a mutual compromise. You tried to appease Derek's mind by choosing your responsibilities accordingly, while Derek tried reining in his protective instinct, even if miserably.

Still, even with the intensity lessened, sometimes Derek's antics were just too outrageous to excuse.

"Derek, you know this is absolute crazy, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek shrugged before adjusting the hold he had around your body.

It was the day of the earthquake drill at Quantico. Just thirty minutes prior, everyone in the building had been directed to evacuate from the emergency exit in a single file. Though it did explain the reason why you found yourself stuck in the middle of a barely moving line on the staircase, it didn't, however, explain the reason why you found yourself being carried in Derek's arms, bridal style.

"This is completely ridiculous," you grumbled once the line started moving again. "Everyone is staring."

"That's just 'cause you're pretty, Bug."

A few steps down, you could see JJ and Spencer stealing glances towards where you and Derek were standing. Your pleading eyes caught JJ's at one point, but the blonde woman only raised her thumbs up before the moving line made her disappear from view.

"You do know I'm still able to support myself on my own two feet, right?"

"Of course I do, Bug," Derek replied. "But why would you have to when I'm strong enough to carry you?"

Derek's answer made you groan in annoyance. A series of laughter from above compelled you to look up at the source, seeing two women whispering among themselves while openly pointing at your direction. You buried your face in the column of Derek's neck to escape their scrutiny, feeling the embarrassment traveled up your neck in a flaming red heat.

You were so never going to live this down.

501 notes · View notes

corrodedcoffins-blog · 6 months

Text

The First Meeting

main masterlist

spencer reid x famous!reader Universe

word count: 4.1 k

warnings: stalking, murder, character asking to die (if I missed something please let me know)

Today was supposed to be an easy day for the BAU. It was a paperwork day, no case, no one dying on their watch.

These were some of Spencer's favourite days, don’t get him wrong he loves being in the field and profiling killers, and when they arrest an unsub, that’s the best feeling.

But having days every now and again where they don’t have to travel and Spencer can read and reflect on their previous case, he greatly enjoys it. And he can’t say he’s the only one, but he can say he’s the only one that uses paperwork days to do paperwork.

Penelope walks in the glass doors humming a tune, foreign to Spencer.

“You got that James Dean day dream, hmm hm mhmmm, I got that red lip classic”

“What’s got you so happy, babygirl?” Derek says, from across Spencer.

“Um, because The Met Gala is tonight! Biggest night in Fashion! And no case means I can watch it.”

“Oh, I must have forgot to put it on my calendar.” Derek, sarcastically remarks while getting up and out of his chair on his way to refill his coffee cup. All the while JJ comes rushing the bullpen, giving the rest of her co-workers a sympathetic face.

“Just when I thought, we would have an easy day.” Emily mumbles getting out her desk chair and walking away with JJ.

“Wally Melman, a music producer in New York, was killed two weeks ago, and Natali Ryan , a singer and songwriter, was killed 4 days ago also in New York.” JJ says while the screen behind her shows pictures of the crime scene.

“The police said they found pictures with the victim's face with ‘You’re Next’ written in red marker across their face. Suspected to have gotten in the mail.”

“And why have they called us now?” Derek says, clearing knowing there was more JJ was going to say but wanting her to get to it quicker.

“Yesturday, another singer/songwriter, by the name of Y/n L/n-”

“Oh. My God!” Penny interrupts JJ, having come in to tell the team an update she had gotten from the NYPD. “uh- sorry, I’m sorry.. Um, the NYPD wants a couple of us to go straight to the crime scene once we land, and that the next vic- uh Y/n L/n I suppose- is at the station waiting.” Penny says, turning and leaving after finishing her sentence.

“Okay everyone, wheels up in 30. JJ can fill us in on the jet.”

When the team arrived in New York, Hotch sent Rossi and Emily to the recent crime scene, and JJ to talk to the media, while himself, Spencer, and Derek went to the station.

When the three got to the station they were shown the note Y/n had gotten from the unsub, different to the others, hers having ‘You Owe Me’ written across her face instead. The team walked into the room they were told Y/n would be in.

Spencer knew she would be pretty, everyone in Hollywood was gorgeous that’s how it worked, but this girl was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, even with her bleached hair that he could assume was a split second decision.

She sat on a chair next to one of the officers' desks, as if she was like everyone else and not a world-wide popstar. Y/n and her manager Joe look up, hearing footsteps walk into the room. She stood up to shake Hotch’s hand.

“Hi, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you and thank you so much.” “Of course”

She goes to shake Derek hand, saying a greeting similar to the one she gave Hotch, then she comes face to face with Spencer, or possibly- not definitely the most beautiful man she has ever seen, sticking out her hand she says, “Hi, nice to meet you..”

“Dr. Spencer Reid- or just Spencer, you don’t have to call me doctor.” “Nice to meet you Spencer.” Y/n stays looking at Spencer maybe a second longer than she should have. It’s just so hard to look away from a man that beautiful. When Y/n does finally look away, she takes a seat and they begin their questioning.

“How well do you know Natalie Ryan?”

“Uh, we talked when we were at the same events and were always friendly, but we weren’t friends.”

“How about Wally Melman?”

“What?”

“Wally Melman, he was a producer who was killed a couple months ago.” Spencer jumps in, making Y/n turn to address him, while she asks her next statement .

“The paper said that it was a robbery.” “The paper was wrong.” Derek responded quickly.

“Did you know him?” Hotch asks, wanting to get back to the questions he has for Y/n.

“I wanted to work with him on my last album, but he started working with..” Y/n cut herself off.

“Who?” Spencer asks concernedly, seeing the scared look on Y/n's face.

“Natalie Ryan, and they beat Y/n for song of the year” Joe says while Y/n is setting her face to rest in her hands, trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Do you ever have the feeling that someone is following you, or watching you?” Derek asks.

“Only every second I spend outside my house. I have fans, and paparazzi following me everywhere. It’s part of the job.”

“Do you ever get repetitive phone calls, hang ups, or gifts sent anonymously?” Spencer asks.

“I receive flowers, Lilies, my favourite. The seventh of each month they get sent to each of my homes, they just show up on the doorstep. Never a note, nothing.”

After a few more of their questions it just becomes too much, knowing that these people are being killed because of her or ‘for’ her and Y/n gets up and leaves the room. Not being able to actually leave given the cameras outside, she doesn’t get too far. And Spencer is right behind her.

“Y/n wait!”

“Can you explain what the hell is going on?”

“Well, it’s still rather speculative, but it appears there’s a delusional assassin who’s killing people to help further your career. It probably started as a stalker. An erotomaniac stalker. There’s a psychopathology of the evolution of these types of stalkers and the fact that he’s contacting you indicates that he believes you owe him something. This model frequently concludes itself with one of two possibilities, either the stalker will kill himself or he’ll kill the object of his affection.”

If Spencer wasn’t talking about the possibility of Y/n’s untimely death, she would have had more time to find Spencer’s rambling and seemingly never ending knowledge hot.

Y/n had gotten home from her time at the station, hoping to be able to relax as she has the Met tomorrow night. But when she had gotten to her front door the yellow notepad paper taped onto it caught her eye.

After reading the note she called the station immediately. The BAU had arrived looking over the note, Y/n was in the room but not listening, she onlys snaps back into listening to the conversations when she hears Spencer.

“In English?” one of the officers asks.

“That is English actually.” Y/n smiles at that, while Spencer continues, getting cut off by Derek not too far into his explanation. Y/n finally speaks up, after the team starts talking about how she should continue, as if she isn’t there.

“I’m standing right here guys..”

“If we did remove you from the street, you couldn’t stay here, we would have to take you to an undisclosed location.”

“I have a fitting here in 30 mins, and the Met tonight, then I’m all yours. Look, I don't want to be afraid of this lunatic.”

"We can clear all but essential personnel, and up your security.”

“Derek and Spencer will stay here with you.”

“Okay.”

The team getting Y/n ready for the Met have set up, Y/n just finished getting hair and makeup done in just her underwear and a robe. Spencer walks up to Y/n while she’s opening a greenhouse ginger shot to drink.

“I’m sorry if I was insensitive earlier.” Spencer says, referring to when he followed her outside of the questioning room and told her there was a possibility this stalker/assassin guy will kill her, just a tad insensitive.

But nonetheless Y/n responds with, “It’s fine, you were just doing your job, right?” “Yeah.” Y/n takes her ginger shot with a look of remorse on her face. She reaches for the soda in Spencer’s hand, to wash it down.

“You don’t mind sharing with me do you?” Spencer quickly shakes his head mumbling a quick ‘no’ while Y/n’s team calls her to get into the dress, Y/n takes off the robe she was wearing, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen, then throwing the robe over a nearby chair. Now standing in just her underwear she smiles at Spencer before walking over to the team helping her get into the dress.

Leaving Spencer to watch her as she subtly sways her hips slightly more than usual when she walks. Spencer takes a sip of the soda Y/n had handed back after taking a sip, Derek coming over to tease Spencer about the scene he just watched.

“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” “Shut up.” Spencer says as he walks away. “Go get ‘em, lover.”

Y/n didn’t get to stay at the Met nearly as long as she wished. With double the security and Spencer there with her, she knew she wouldn’t have the night she was hoping for, but maybe something close.

But as she danced with Tom Hiddleston, Spencer got the call to take her to the safe house. Spencer didn’t really want to interrupt Y/n dancing on who he assumes is another famous person, but he had to, for her safety.

“Um- Y- Y/n we have to go.” Spencer says while struggling to gain her attention.

“Really?” “Yeah..” “Okay” she sighs, turning to Tom, mumbling an apology and some fake excuse.

They got to Y/n's home. Spencer rambling about safety measures Y/n should take. “You should also probably change all your phone numbers.” “I’m unlisted.” “Anytime you call an 800 number or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. If someone gets your cell phone number they can go online and research all your records.”

Y/n looks at Spencer expecting him to continue, but when he doesn’t she assumes he’s done, and gets up to walk into her kitchen, saying as she gets up, “You’re very cute when you ramble.” Causing Spencer to freeze but when she turns the corner out of his sight he rushes to keep up with her.

“You should also probably carry a piece of paper and a pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious licence plates that often reappear.” Spence trails of looking closely at a collage hung up on Y/n’s wall

“It’s a photographic collage. I like how obscure it is.”

“You should also get a dog. Like a guard dog of some sort.” Spencer says, staring intently at the collage but not acknowledging what Y/n said about it.

“I don’t think so, I'm a cat person. Dogs are not for me… Earl grey good?”

“Wha- what?”

“Tea, do you want some tea?”

“Uh yes, yes sure.”

“Okay” Y/n says smiling at his nervousness.

Y/n walks into the living room, in her swimsuit with a robe overtop, coming to stand next to Spencer while he stares intently at the picture collage on Y/n’s wall.

“Are you feeling anything?” “There is something definitely appealing about it.” “That’s a start” Y/n says while chuckling.

Turning on her heels towards the back door to the pool. This catches Spencer’s actions wondering what she's doing, he asks, “What are you doing?” “Going for a swim.” Y/n responds nonchalantly. “What? No, Y/N!” Spencer yells following her, but before he can reach her she dives into the pool.

Swimming up to the surface and wiping her face with her hands. She looks so gorgeous, she looks like a movie star, which is not far off. But Spencer really shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful she is when he’s job is to keep her safe, and her being out here is not safe.

“Y/n, you cannot do this.” “Just a few minutes?” She ‘asks’ while giving Spencer puppy dog eyes. “Go get a suite in the house.” “What? No, I’m not going to grab a suit. Are you kidding me? No.” Spencer says in that high pitched tone he does, she’s only heard it once before, but she can’t help but find it so cute.

“Join me.” “No, I’m going to join you.” “Why not?” “You’re being pursued by a psychotic killer who shoots people in the head!” “I’m not going to stop living my life because of him.” Y/n turns to float in the water. “Y/n, I’m begging you. Will you please get out of the pool?”

“Come on, Spence, you should live a little.” “Live a little? I’ve not known you for 24 hours, I feel like I’ve already aged 10 years.” “Ugh, I can’t be that bad.” “Yes, you are that bad.” Y/n turns off of her back and starts to swim to the edge of the pool Spencer is standing at.

“Fine, but can you help me out at least?” She says putting on an innocent face as if she really did want help out of the pool. When Spencer leans down to grab her hand to help her up, Y/n pulls him into the pool causing a big splash following after Spencer falls in.

Which then causes a laugh to come from Y/n as Spencer rises to the water's surface.

“Yes, very funny. Laugh it up, Y/n. Hilarious. My gun’s wet. That’s just great” Spencer swims to the edge to get his gun out of the water, Y/n swimming behind him, still chuckling.

“My clothes.” “I told you to grab a suit.”

While Spencer looks down at his wet chest, Y/n’s hand comes to rest on his peck, causing Spencer to look up at Y/n. When he looks at her, she is already looking in his eyes, her eyes asking the question ‘do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?’ the answer being ‘yes’ as Spencer starts to lean in. Not knowing what he’s doing, leaning in to kiss Y/n L/n global superstar? Who does he think he is, thinking she would want to kiss him? But contrary to Spencer's beliefs, Y/N leans in too, pulling his body closer to hers faster by his tie. As their lips collide, it feels as if the world slows down. For the first time in a long time Y/n feels normal, regular, ordinary, in the best possible way. She feels in the way Spencer's lips are moving against hers that he doesn’t want her for her fame, or looks, but for her. Just her. But then Spencer pulls away. It had only been a couple seconds, how could a kiss that short hold that much emotion? Spencer’s words stop her from thinking too much.

“This is completely inappropriate.” “Spence..” Y/n looks into Spencer's eyes only looking away when she closes them and pulls him into another kiss, by his tie. This kiss, still sweet and emotion filled, yet rougher, as if they had gotten that much more comfortable now versus 15 seconds ago. Their lips move together roughly, Y/n tongue brushing Spencer’s lips looking for access, which causes Spencer to move his lips back from Y/n’s again. “No, there’s this thing called transference.” Spencer says, all the while Y/n is trying to recover from the best kiss of her life, and Spencer has no idea. “Do you not like me?” “What?” Spencer says quickly like him not liking her, and is just the most insane idea in the world, and truthfully that’s not far off. “Was that kiss not good?” “No- no it was very good.” “Because I like you.” “I like you too. It’s just I’m a federal agent. You know. And I’m supposed to protect you.” “Then you should keep me close.” Y/n mumbles moving her lips to Spencers again. Spencer pulls back to start talking again, as Y/N’s kisses move to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin every so often, the first nibble causing Spencer to let out a surprised noise that quickly turns into a moan. “I’m just, hmm.. I’m a little worried, you know? We’re in a pool.” “Are we?” “And it’s uh.. We’re pretty much exposed.” Y/n moves to give Spencer's lips a quick peck, before responding to his concerns. “We have cops. We have cops posted out front.” Y/n cuts herself off to kiss Spencer again, “There are coyotes out back.” Y/n pauses looking at Spencer’s lips, while licking her own, then shooting her eyes up to Spencer’s “And then it’s just you and me.” Y/n moves her lips to be hovering over Spencer’s their noses rubbing against each other, it feels much more intimate than just kissing him, breathing in the after shave and cologne mixed with chlorine soaked into his skin is a smell Y/n would never get sick of, no matter how much she hated the smell of chlorine. She moves her lips back to the spot she found on his neck that makes him the most reactive. “Stop- I have to tell you something.” “What?” “I didn’t want to tell you this before, because I was a little bit worried… I didn’t know how to say it, but I can’t not tell you.” “Spence, just tell me. What is it?” “Your manager, Joe… Hotch went to check on him, but he got there too late.” Y/n looks into Spencer’s eyes any ounce of a look that would tell her he wasn’t serious. Because Joe couldn’t be dead. Not because of her, Joe was like family, no matter how weird he was. Joe was always there. Y/n turns away not being able to look at Spencer, “How could you-” She turns back to him, looking Spencer in the eyes as she aks, “How could you not tell me?” “I was afraid you’d be upset.” “You knew? How could you know and not tell me?” “Y/n, I’m so sorry” Y/n moves towards the edge of the pool to pull herself out, Spencer trying to help her. “Don’t- Don’ touch me! Please, don’t touch me!” Y/n gets out walking back into the house with a towel around herself, leaving Spencer in the pool.

Spencer walks into Y/n’s living room, seeing her sitting on her couch crying, he wants to comfort her. Just don't know how. “Y/n?...Are you still… Are you okay?” “Joe was like family.” Hearing Y/n cry hurts Spencer more than he thought possible from a girl he met not even 24 hours ago. “It’s just so hard to trust people in this industry, you don’t know who to believe.Everybody wants something from you. And I felt- I thought you were different.” “I know I should have told you.” “I told him not to.” Rossi cuts in having heard most of the conversation from behind Spencer. “He was only following my orders.” Rossi pats Spencer's shoulder while leaving the room. “The last time I could really trust people was when I moved to Nashville.” Y/n says, all the while Spencer is decoding the picture collage on Y/n’s wall. “Nashville, you said you lived you Houston street? And you were on KZ fm in high school?..” “Yeah..?” When Y/n sees the way Spencer is intensely staring at the collage she also gets up, to stand next to him. “I need to take this thing about.” Spencer says while not looking away. “What?” “I’ll put it back. I think I see images of you. Guys!”

Y/n stands to the side with Derek while Spencer and Emily are putting the pieces together. “Y/n, it looks like someone has been stalking you for years.”

“Yeah, this tells your whole life story. Awards, Billboard charts, Albums.”

“Everything since moving to Nashville.”

“Who gave you this collage?” Derek asked, leaning over the island counter. “Um- he did” Y/N says pointing at a picture on the collage. “Who is he?” “Uh- Parker Dunley, I don’t really know him, he just owns a gallery I go to sometimes.”

Spencer gets off the phone quickly turning to Y/N. “Y/N, do you someone by the name of Veronica Hartley?” “Roni? Yeah, of course I know her. I’ve known her for years. She’s one of my assistants.” Their conversation gets cut off by Y/n’s phone ringing. “What is it?” Spencer asks, seeing the way her eyes widened when she read the caller ID.

“That’s her calling now.”

“Is she calling from her cell phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Y/n, we think Roni’s the stalker.”

“No- No way.”

“Answer the phone. Act completely natural, the longer you keep her on the line the more likely we’ll be able to trace the call.. Trust me.” Spencer walks away to call the team, while Y/n answers Roni’s call.

“Hello?…Roni?...” Spencer turns to Y/N and gives her a signal to keep talking.

“Rons?... You’re tired?......I saw you today?.... I don’t know what you’re talking about.. I remember.. Roni, that was just one weekend…”

“Y/n” Spencer whisper yells, after getting off the phone with Penny, finding out Roni’s calling inside the house.

“How did she get inside?”

“She has keys.”

Spencer starts searching the house Y/n walking behind him. When they get up to a guest bedroom, Y/n feels the barrel of a gun being pressed to her skull, Spencer quickly turns around.

“Put down the gun.” Roni demands. “Roni..” Spencer says while lowering his gun. “Don’t call me ‘Roni” you don’t know me! Come on, Y/n, let’s go. We have to go, baby. Come on.” Y/n looks in Spencer’s eyes begging him to do something. “Roni, don’t hurt her. You don’t need to hurt her.” “You don’t know anything. I would never hurt her. I created her" "No you didn’t.” “Yes, I did you stupid, ungrateful, little bitch.. I can’t believe I ever loved you.” “Roni, she.. She loves me now.” Roni moves her gun from pointing it at Y/n’s head to pointing it at Spencer. “She told me so. When we were in the pool. She kissed me. Now she loves me okay?” “No.” “Tell her we kissed in the pool.” “No!’ Roni yells this time switching from pointing her gun from Spencer to Y/n. Y/n looks at Spencer hopefully to tell her the next move, when he nods his head at her she says, “Yes, we kissed.” Roni then pushes Y/n, and Spencer tackles Roni to the ground, grabbing her gun, and pointing it at her. “Kill me! Please. Kill me! I’ll be so much happier!” But Spencer shakes his head, lowering the gun as he says, “No, we’re going to get you some help.”

Y/n is standing in the station talking to her publicist, while news vans are lined up outside.

“I don’t want any media.” “Come on, Y/n” “No. No media.” “Okay, no media. Let me deal with these guys then.”

After Y/n’s publicist leaves, Spencer walks up to Y/n. “I wish we didn’t meet under these circumstances. More normal maybe.” “Y/n, believe me, no matter how we met, I’m glad we did.” Y/n feels her whole body, warm at that, she turns her head, knowing Spencer can see the blush on her face. They’re interrupted when Derek yells for Spencer. “Hey, Reid. Come on, we got to move.” “Well, um- here, take this.” Y/n passes Spencer a receipt she had written her new number on. “Would you- if it’s okay with you, give me a call.” “Yeah, I would love to.” Rossi comes walking over. “I hate to intrude, kid, but we’re waiting.” “Yeah- yeah a second.” “So- call me, I’ll be waiting.” Y/n turns to walk away, but Spencer puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Y/n turns towards Spencer, he puts his hand on her check, Y/n leaning into his palm, turning her head slightly to press a small kiss into his palm, before walking away.

#spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid x famous!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer #reid

236 notes · View notes

mrs-weasley-reid · 1 year

Text

Slap Back to Vegas

platonic Spencer Reid x geniusbau!reader | part 2

part 1 | part 3 | part 4

Summary: Spencer was broken, the most broken he has ever been. As much as bau!reader wants to coddle him with sweet words like the rest of the team does, she can't because she made a promise six years ago.

Warning: mentions of death, self-harm, violence. cursing. short-tempered reader. (tell me if I missed anything)

A/N: this might be a bit heavy, so please be mindful as you read.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Reid, answer the damn phone and stop moping." You hung up the phone with a thud, your nostrils flaring.

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer began grieving over Maeve's death, shutting people out. You were no exception.

And you weren't one to be insensitive or inconsiderate or impassive or uncaring or any other words to paint you out as the inhumane agent, but Spencer needed a wake up call.

No. He needed more than just a wake up call. He needed one hell of a delicious eye opening slap on his face. He needed to stop blaming himself, killing himself with guilt.

It has been six years since you promised to be his one friend who would never hesitate to be real with him. You were true to your word.

You may not fully relate to his grief, but you knew his stupid attempt to wallow in guilt would not do him any good.

"He can take all the time he needs," Hotch announced as his focus remained at the folder on his lap.

You rolled your eyes, "No, he can't."

Hotch gave you a stern look. The look of a disrespected father being questioned for his parenting skills. "Why don't you focus your energy on the case?" He made sure his authority was clear.

"95% of those who loses their partners are at risk of suicide." You stated nonchalantly, flipping through your own copy of file. "I'm just saying. Give him space all you want. Exactly what he needs to hang himself." You shrugged, as if your words weren't horrible. They were. You knew they were.

Rossi was the one to speak your name in a warning tone.

Sometimes you wished you wouldn't be the one to shake some sense into Spencer. You grew frustrated. Genius and empty minded. Just like Spencer, emotion was a difficult area for you to dabble in.

So here you were, the villain in the BAU team's story.

A lot of them grew increasingly annoyed at you. They thought, at first, it was denial. Denial that Spencer was grieving. That your friend was hurt. Then, they were left to think it was jealousy.

You and Spencer have been awfully close for the past six years, but Maeve's existence seemed to surprise you. So, they thought, maybe you were jealous of her. Because Spencer loved her dearly. Because Spencer loved someone else.

And boy were they wrong.

You love Spencer? Correct. You're in love with Spencer? Maybe you should be the one hanging yourself. You cared for him deeply, finding friendship in the midst of tragedies. However, you don't find it in yourself to love him romantically.

As harsh as your words were, you knew sweet nothings wouldn't get through Spencer. It would just make him push people away further, just like what he was doing right now.

You sighed in defeat, obliging to Hotch's advice. You directed your energy to the case, helping them the best you could, probably even better than Spencer. You were a genius, too, after all.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Voice mail greeted you once again, you closed your eyes in agony. You were losing patience, much less hope.

"Spencer—" It was rare. You never called him by his first name. "How am I supposed to slap you some good ole reality if you're over there acting like you're dead? A simple, 'I'm alive, leave me alone,' would be fine. Spencer, I don't entirely know how you feel, but trust me, I know it's hard. Can you at least respond to the others? Blow on the speaker or something just so they know you're alive. I'm really mad at you. I look like the bad guy here. Just know that once you feel better, I will physically slap you back to Vegas."

A weak smile urged the corner of Spencer's lips as he listened to your irritated voice. That was the first time his lips even moved. He forgot how much he loved to talk.

You sighed, placing the phone's microphone closer to your lips. "You're being stupid, Spencer. You're being unfair to everyone who has been with you for years. They want to help you. Let them help you. Plus, I hate that everyone thinks I'm in love with you. Please tell me that makes you want to puke too." You paused. He could only imagine the grimace on your face, and that made him chuckle. "You must respond to them and tell them how much you love me as your annoying sister. Ugh! Fine. Mope around all you want—"

Spencer quickly played the next voicemail you left him, knowing how persistent you were as a person. He knew you weren't about to cut your speech off.

"This is fucking stupid. Who the hell made the decision to make voicemails three minutes long? Why am I even leaving you a voicemail? I don't even leave my mother a voicemail. Do me a favor, make it easier for me and answer the freaking phone, you son of a bitch!" Spencer couldn't take it anymore. He fell on fits of laughter in the tightness of his apartment. His stomach cramped, his hands cradling it to ease the shortness of his breath.

Spencer collapsed on the floor. Tears glided down his temple. What made the tears bearable was the fact that they weren't of grief. They were of momentary happiness. Would you be glad to know that your demise cheered him up a bit? Probably not.

A groan escaped you. He knew you've grown impatient of him. You didn't have much patience to begin with. "I meant your Dad, by the way. Diana would agree with me." He nodded as if you were in front of him. "Spencer. I wasn't oblivious. I am a genius, too, you know. Why does everyone always forget that I have 184 IQ? I knew there was someone. You always memorized phone booth locations first before working on the geographic profile. You're always smiling after a call from God knows whatever phone booth you wandered to. I knew it was someone who made you happy. If everyone knew about your girlfriend, I knew about the silly little book you're probably holding right now."

You took a well needed pause, your tongue went dry and empty of words, but your mind was running a thousand miles per hour. Spencer heard you shoo someone away and snorted at the shortness of your temper. And at that point, he found anything you did hilarious.

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I would be lying if I said that I wasn't happy for you. And a clown if I said I don't feel an ounce of sympathy for your situation. But guess what? I made a promise. So listen carefully. You, Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, are being excruciatingly stupid. There are people who wants to support you. You deny it? You're not so special, Spencer. You're just a genius. We're geniuses who struggle in life and as far as statistics could go, we shouldn't dumb ourselves down when emotions strike. We're too unapproachable to deny friends. So if there are people who wants to hold your hand, take it. And I'm sure Maeve—"

His fingers shakily played the last voicemail you left him. The mention of her name still ached his chest. If it was JJ who left him the voicemail, he would've turned the player off and cry for about an hour.

Somehow, you saying her name felt serene. As if Maeve was your best friend and you were relaying him a message from her in the meanest way.

You could've texted him a long essay. But no. You knew he needed to hear every word that left your mouth.

"Maeve wanted to meet with you because she didn't want you to feel alone. Don't you think moping by yourself defeats that purpose? I don't know her personally. But in the small time I saw the two of you together? At gun point and tied up, for sure, but I knew she loved you just as much as you love her. She wouldn't want you to be alone right now. No one is asking you to be okay. It's okay to be depressed. It's okay to grieve. But at least have the decency to let people help you. No one is forcing you to go back to work. Well... I am."

Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head. Of course you were. You hated when he got the luxury of getting more day offs than you did. You hated that there was always something that made him vulnerable. All jokes, but a little bit of it was true.

He would never forget the day you got shot—luckily just grazed by the bullet—and Hotch called you in the middle of getting stitches, whether you remembered the unsub's face and was up to talk to a sketch artist. You glared blood and daggers at Spencer that day as he sat across you, an ice pack on his head to tender his concussion.

"I can handle the case without you, but—" You let three seconds pass. Spencer thought you ended the message there, but you spoke again. "I don't feel comfortable when a friend of mine with 187 IQ is being stupid. It distracts me. I worry. Hear that? I'm worried. That's very concerning. So please, respond to the others. Open the door for Penelope and JJ. Answer Derek's calls. Maybe cry in Hotch's office. Join his widower club. Is it too early to joke about that? I don't know. But I would never know if you keep being a jerk and don't answer me."

Spencer stood up. He has decided. He was going to let you slap him back to Vegas.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

You had no idea whether Spencer was still breathing. And if he ever answered Derek's calls, you weren't aware. The whole team made sure not to mention him when he called Derek, or had a short conversation with Penelope.

It was unfair to you, really. They had no idea how much influence you had on Spencer that he began to work his way around the profile. Even better, ask Penelope to fly him to where everyone was.

Nevertheless, you racked your brain for any reasons why the unsub chose to use blood as his paint. You left the group when the lab report arrived, locking yourself inside the ladies room. You had had enough of them criticizing you and undermining your thoughts because they were still upset over your attitude towards Spencer.

Meanwhile, as you bit your nails in the privacy of the precinct's restroom, one specific curly-haired genius arrived.

"What other reasons would he have for separating the plasma from the blood?" Hotch examined. He was particularly waiting for your answer, but you were too busy rebelling against them in the restroom.

"It's a habit." Spencer interjected, earning everyone's attention.

"Reid," Derek said in suprise.

"Spence," JJ exclaimed simultaneously, relieved at the sight of him. She immediately engulfed him into a tight hug.

"I didn't expect you back this soon. You sure you're ready?" Hotch's usual austere brows softened ever so slightly.

"No, but I think I figured something out." Spencer flashed a tight-lipped smile, allowing everyone to know that he was coping just fine. "And I need someone to slap me back to Vegas." A soft chuckle vibrated out of him.

Everyone's eyebrows knitted. Was he making a joke? If he was, they had no idea what it was about. They couldn't find the humor in it.

"He's a hemophiliac." You announced as you walked back in the bullpen, unaware of Spencer's presence. "Some hemophiliacs inject plasma into their wounds—"

You were cut off by a huge impact on your body. Your arms were stretched out, processing what was happening.

Spencer was hugging you. That was rare. Almost as rare as you calling him by his first name. Not that the two of you had never hugged before, but it was only when one of you almost died, and needed the assurance that both of you were, in fact, alive.

"Thank you," He whispered next to your ear, his embrace tightening for a few seconds before letting you go. You have yet saved him from distress for the nth time, and he didn't know what he would ever do if you decided to stop.

Spencer placed his elbow atop your head, facing everyone. "And she's not in love with me. We would rather shoot each other." He said with a grin, taking everyone by surprise.

You scoffed, swatting his arm off your head. "Do you feel better?"

It was a mistake. He should've not nodded. He should've kept his sullen face, and maybe you wouldn't have glared at him whilst cracking your fingers.

You rubbed your palms together, nodding. "Good, because I wasn't lying when I said I was going to slap you—"

"—back to Vegas." Spencer finished your sentence, the recent sorrow in his eyes replaced by fear for his life.

Rossi turned to the others, "I think we owe our second genius a generous apology."

And they all agreed in silence, watching as you demanded Spencer to stay still whilst he ran around the precinct.

#spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #ssa spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds fandom #spencerreid #criminal minds #cm #criminalminds #fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x reader

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hotchnerobsessed · 2 years

Text

Go It Alone - Part 1

Virgin!Fem!Reader x Hotch | When you realize you’ll be going to another wedding alone, Hotch offers to be your plus one.

Warnings: 🤭+😰 Description of insecurities, and MAJOR FLUFF (You didn’t realize just how much of a softie your perpetually serious boss really was. Hotch already has feelings for you, but it’s the start of feelings for someone you’d never truly considered before.)

Word Count: 10,496

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

This is the longest fic I’ve written, but it’s probably my favourite. I just want this sweet man to hold me and tell me everything will be alright.

**********

Weddings were happy events.

Right?

You’re surrounded by people who are all there to celebrate two people coming together; to celebrate love.

The only thing was, during quiet moments in the midst of the bustling people around you, your mind always wandered. The invitation for a “plus one” was always there, but you’d never had that person by your side who made your heart flutter. You always felt guilty for allowing these thoughts to seep in at the worst possible times, but you couldn’t help it. You knew you should be joyful. You should be focusing on the happy couple, and the love they have for each other. Instead, you always found your chest heavy with feelings of longing and inadequacy, wondering when it might be your turn.

When the invite arrived in the mail, you had to read it a couple times before realization finally settled in. It was from an old classmate you’d hardly talked to in years, though in this day and age of social media you’d somewhat “kept in touch” with the odd like or comment on each other’s posts. As much as you were surprised to get the invite, you couldn’t deny that you two had been together through every major milestone in your lives so far, and knowing she wanted you to be there to share in her special day warmed your heart.

But it didn’t take long before a pit in your stomach began to grow at the thought of having to attend the wedding alone. The thought of facing your old classmates, still single, was almost too much to bear. You decided you would give yourself a few days to think it through before responding.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Sitting in your usual spot, the rest of the team dispersed throughout the plane and chatting amongst themselves, you stared out the window at the dark night that encompassed the aircraft. Your mind was focused on the wedding once again. You hadn’t responded within the few days like you’d planned to; it was now over a month later and the deadline for your RSVP was less than a week away. The collage of happy images that scattered the front of the invite flashed through your mind; you couldn’t help but imagine who’s face you might see next to yours on your own save-the-date one day.

“Everything okay?” A soft voice pulled you from the depths of your mind. As you looked up, you saw that JJ had sat down across from you, sliding a steaming mug of coffee your way.

Smiling at her in thanks, you wrapped your hands around the warm mug and lifted it to your lips. “Yeah.. yeah. I’m good. Just a little tired. So this coffee is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

Your attempt at pretending nothing was wrong didn't go well, and she saw right through you. "What's on your mind?" she asked through a warm smile.

Looking down at the drink in your hands, unable to maintain eye contact, you fidgeted with the handle of the mug. Opening your mouth to speak, you hesitated before finally admitting, "It's stupid, really." You paused for a moment, and she was silent, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. "I got a wedding invitation in the mail a few weeks ago. Someone I used to go to school with. I just.. I guess I'm just tired of going to these things alone." An understanding smile graced her lips as she nodded her head gently. When she didn't respond right away, you shook your head and laughed quietly, turning to look out the window again, "it's nothing JJ, really. I'm sure I'm just overthinking it."

A second later, you felt a comforting hand on yours, pulling your attention back to her. "If you're feeling this anxious about it, it's clearly not nothing.." She trailed off, and you smiled weakly at her. Gently nudging you once more, she asked, "I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Laughing softly, you breathed in deep and closed your eyes, slowly released the air from your lungs. You were thankful she was approaching the situation gently, because you were currently fighting to keep your emotions at bay. Your mind was attempting to rationalize the overwhelming feeling as simply being overtired, but you knew there was a lot more to it. The question now was just how much you were willing to share, at the risk of someone else overhearing you. "Most of the time it doesn’t bother me.. the fact that I’ve never been in a relationship.. but then stuff like this comes up, events where bringing your significant other is a special thing, and I don’t have anyone..” Finally looking up at her once more, you ended honestly, ”I know it’s stupid, but it makes me feel lonely.”

Giving your hand a loving squeeze, your eyes met once more, and as she spoke you felt the start of tears threatening to escape. “It’s not stupid. Your feelings are valid. I can only imagine that’s not an easy feeling to process, but just know that you are loved.” The smile in her eyes warmed your heart. “And if this person wants you at their wedding, they clearly care about you. Try to focus on that.”

Smiling weakly at her, you nodded your head; you knew she was right. You weren’t new to this feeling, and you knew you could push through like you always did, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Just as you were about to look out the window once more, you heard a voice from behind you, “did someone say wedding? I love weddings! Who’s getting married?!”

Laughing softly, one single tear finally rolling down your cheek, you looked up at JJ who was glancing over your shoulder, “of course you do Morgan. Why does that not surprise me?”

As JJ looked back at you, she caught the tail end of you wiping the stray tear away, before you turned sideways in your seat to look at Morgan. He was leaning his arms on the back of the seat beside you, that huge grin of his spread across his face. “It’s an old friend of mine. The wedding is next month, and I was just telling JJ about how I was thinking of asking you to be my date,” you teased.

His smile grew even wider as he laughed and dropped his head, shaking it slightly before joking right back, “you know I would be honoured, but I think my Baby Girl might have something to say about me stepping out on her and being someone else’s pretend wedding boyfriend.”

Laughing right along with him, JJ also cracking a smile at your exchange, you admitted, “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of Baby Girl and her Chocolate Thunder now would I?” Both of you knew Penelope wouldn’t actually have a problem with it, but both of you also knew that the prospect of going together wasn’t substantial.

Reaching over the seat to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze, he spoke in a caring voice, one that Morgan didn’t use often, but when he did you knew he meant it. “You’re an amazing girl, and any guy would be lucky to be by your side.” Placing your hand overtop of his, you patted his warm knuckles a few times in thanks.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Before you knew it, you were back on the ground and making your way to the office to file your paperwork. You’d only been sitting down at your desk for a few short minutes, flipping through the mountain of papers when you heard the familiar commanding voice of your unit chief calling for your attention, “Y/N, could you join me in my office when you have a minute?”

Looking up from behind your computer screen, you answered his question with a swift, “not a problem, Sir,” and he nodded in response. You were the only two in the bullpen; most everyone else had either gone home, or out for drinks, but neither of you had felt up for that.

Glancing at your watch you noted the time; it was 1:17AM. Somehow it felt like it was much later, as the exhaustion from the case, and the conversation on the flight home, finally began to take affect on your body.

Filing the last of the paperwork, you stood from your desk and made your way across the carpeted floor and up the stairs. His door was open slightly, and you could hear the sound of shuffling papers. Knocking, you waited for his quiet, “come in,” before stepping through the doorway.

Closing the door behind you, you turned around and glanced across the room to where he sat behind his desk. Without looking up from his papers, he spoke once more, “have a seat.”

Responding silently, you simply took the few steps across the open space and sat down in the chair across from him. Smoothing out the material of your skirt, you couldn’t help the slight anxiousness that built in your chest. You’d been called into his office before, and never for anything bad, but taking into account the fact that everyone else had left, you rationalized that if bad news needed to be delivered, now would be the time to do it.

“Sir..” you began to speak, but your train of thought was abruptly cut off as he looked up at you. There was something different in his eyes, something kind, and gentle, that you’d only seen a handful of times before.

The ghost of a smile flashed across his lips, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he spoke, “please, call me Aaron.”

Nodding, you repeated, “Aaron, right. Is there something I can help you with?”

Shaking his head, he looked back down at his paperwork and paused, almost as if weighing his words before speaking. As he set his pen down, he looked back up at you and eased into it, “will you be needing any time off for this wedding you’re attending?”

Blinking a couple times, you took a few seconds as your mind switched gears. You weren’t sure exactly what his motivation was behind asking, but you knew there was more to it than anything work related. “Oh! Umm.. honestly I haven’t even decided if I’m going or not. But no,” you answered finally, “no I shouldn’t need any time off. It’s here in the city.”

Nodding, quiet as he processed your answer, you could feel your heart beating in your chest. You wished you hadn’t admitted your hesitance about accepting the invite, knowing well that he would more than likely ask why you were unsure.

“Okay. Well if you ever need extra time off, you just let me know. I’ll do what I can to make it work for you.”

Smiling softly at him, he returned the smile as you thanked him, “thank you Sir.. Aaron.. I appreciate it.”

Nodding once more, he added, “you said you haven’t decided yet if you’re going? May I ask what has you feeling hesitant?”

Making eye contact with him, you couldn’t help the tightness that gripped your chest. There it was. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, but this was one of your deepest insecurities and you’d already discussed it once tonight; the prospect of rehashing it all again, with your boss, didn’t thrill you.

But the longer you looked at him, the more the softness in his eyes became apparent. He wasn’t always that stern, intimidating man he was in the field. You knew there was more to him, but you didn’t see the gentle side of him often. Truth be told, you were intrigued by the enigma he seemed to be; you wanted to know more about him.

Looking down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting nervously with one of the buttons that trailed down the front of your skirt, you decided being honest was your best option. “Oh, it’s really not a big deal, I just.. don’t have anyone to go with.” Finally looking up at him once more, gauging his reaction, you were greeted with a look of comfort and understanding. You confessed, “I guess I’m just tired of going to these things alone.”

You simply gazed at each other as he weighed your words with care. He fought with what to say next, and you could see the gears turning in his head, see the contemplation on his face.

The feelings he had for you had crept in slowly. It wasn’t long after you’d started at the BAU when he’d noticed it the first time; the way your nose crinkled when you laughed. It took him a few seconds to recover and fake a laugh of his own at whatever joke he’d missed because he was too lost in thought as he glanced at you.

Over the months, he did everything he could to fight the scenarios that played out in his head of you and him together. He was your superior, and he never wanted to put you in the position of feeling like you had to say yes to dinner with him simply for that reason. He’d decided that even though it wasn’t going to be easy, he was going to carry on as if nothing was wrong.

And that would stay true, until he overheard the last bit of your conversation with Derek about the wedding. He couldn’t ignore the opportunity to spend more time with you, to be close to you, if it was what you wanted. Knowing you were looking for someone to go with, he wanted to offer to simply accompany you as a friend; someone to share those memories with. But he couldn’t deny there was a tiny “what if” making itself known in the depths of his mind. He wondered if after spending time together, away from work, just two people getting to know each other, maybe, just maybe, you would see him the way he saw you.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, “I don’t mean to overstep, so please know that you can be honest with me..” He hesitated before continuing, and all you could do was stare, anticipating what he was going to say next. “I quite enjoy weddings. I would be more than happy to accompany you. If you’d have me.”

His offer might have come as a surprise to you, but to him, it was a long time coming.

A subtle smile flashed across your face as you took the time to process his words. Glancing down at your lap once more, your fingers still fidgeting with that same gold button, you let out an airy laugh. It wasn’t a teasing laugh, but more a laugh of disbelief. No one had ever voluntarily stood by your side before, never mind a man as put together as Aaron Hotchner.

Your mind began running through any possible explanation as to why he might be offering. Was it pity? Probably not. Was he looking for an excuse to dress up? Maybe, but you doubted it; he wore better suits every day than you’d seen most of the men in your life wear before. Was he trying to get closer to you? Nope, definitely not that. Though you’d acknowledged very early on that he was handsome, you knew he was so far out of your league that fantasies of you and him never stood a chance. Not to mention the fact that he was your boss. The potential mess of an office relationship was enough to make you distance yourself from possibilities with just about anyone at the bureau.

It had been a few seconds and you still hadn’t responded, so he added faintly, “I promise you it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want me to join. I just wanted to extend the offer in case..”

You cut him off mid-sentence, “no, no, it’s not that.. it’s just.. are you sure?” You were still having a hard time believing what he was offering. As you looked him in the eyes once more, you saw the realization on his face; you weren’t struggling with whether you wanted him to join you, you were struggling with wondering if you were worthy of the company.

Nodding softly, he spoke through a smile, “I’m sure. The day you started I could already tell you were going to be an irreplaceable member of this team, and you’ve only proved me right.” You couldn’t help the faint blush that spread across your face. “But I also like to know my team outside of working hours. I believe it helps to build trust, and form stronger bonds between us all. We don’t know a lot about each other yet, and I would like to change that.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you accepted his explanation at face value, not currently having the mental capacity to read into it further. Smiling, your first genuine smile while thinking about the wedding since you’d received the invite, you maintained eye contact as you responded somewhat timidly, “okay. Thank you, Aaron. This means a lot to me.”

As you both smiled at each other, he answered honestly, “don’t mention it. The pleasure is all mine.”

Neither of you had told the rest of the team what you’d discussed, having agreed that it might give the wrong impression.

The next month passed rather quickly, as your excitement for the day grew more and more. Much to your surprise, work wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable at all. If anything, it had pulled you even further out of your shell. Knowing your boss had confidence in you, not only as a colleague, but also as an individual, brought so much more of your true self out. Parts of you that you hadn’t even realized you’d been hiding started to shine through.

You’d noticed a change in Hotch as well. He seemed.. happier. He smiled more, involved himself in team banter more, and spoke to you using your first name now rather than your last. It was a small change, but one that made you feel warm inside.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

When the day finally arrived, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling that washed over you. You knew this would be a night to remember, and you were so thankful to Aaron for making it possible that the memorable parts of the night were going to be happy ones.

You had just finished slipping into your dress when you heard a knock on the door. Running your palms along the material, smoothing it out, you smiled as you took in your appearance. Your hair was curled slightly, and pulled off to one side. The dress you were wearing was a deep emerald green, and the cut hugged your curves just right.

As you opened the front door, you motioned for him to join you inside. Stepping though the door and closing it behind himself, it took everything in him not to completely melt into a puddle at your feet. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone so beautiful in his life. You were stunning and he could feel his heart beating faster in his chest.

He still hadn’t said anything aside from your initial greeting, almost unable to speak for fear of saying too much, so he was thankful that you spoke first. “Would you mind helping me with this? I don’t usually struggle this much with my jewelry, but I just can’t seem to get my necklace done up.”

Taking the dainty gold necklace from your grasp, he tried his best to steady his hands as you turned your back to him and lifted your hair out of the way. With the soft skin of your neck exposed, he couldn’t help it as his eyes trailed from your hair, down your neck, and across your back. Slipping the necklace around you, he fastened it in place. The slight graze of your skin against his knuckles had his mind reeling, and anticipating the evening, wondering if he might be so lucky as to share a dance with you.

Dropping your hair against your back, you turned to face him once more as you tugged gently at the necklace so it would settle in place. He responded to your thanks for the assistance, and he couldn’t hold back the praise that fell off his lips, “you look beautiful. Green is a good colour on you.”

Smiling up at him, you brushed your hand across his shoulder playfully, “you don’t look so bad yourself.” He was wearing a simple black suit, something you’d seen him wear a million times before, but he switched things up from his day-to-day wear and swapped out his regular tie for a bow tie. Tugging gently at the fabric around his neck, you noted, “The bow tie is a nice touch. I like it.”

He couldn’t help the smile that flashed across his face. He wasn’t going to let his feelings get in the way of simply enjoying the evening, but he couldn’t ignore how it felt to hear you compliment him the way you had. If there was ever any doubt in his mind about the way he felt for you, the tightness the gripped his chest as he reached out his arm to you cemented it; he wanted to spend the rest of his life helping you put necklaces on and accompanying you to all kinds of events neither of you really wanted to be at.

Looping your arm under his, you rested your hand on his forearm as you spoke, “shall we?” Nodding, he smiled at you once more before opening the front door and leading you down the walkway to his vehicle.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The drive to the church went by too fast; conversation flowed so naturally, and you both wished you could have more time just the two of you to talk. When you arrived, he got out first and made his way around the vehicle to open the door for you. Acknowledging his kindness, you spoke as you placed your hand in his and stepped out, “and they say chivalry is dead.” He laughed lightly, that beautiful smile of his flashing across his face. “Thank you, Aaron.”

Responding once again with a simple nod and a quiet, “you’re welcome,” he motioned with his hand for you to lead the way.

Making your way up the front steps of the church, you stood behind the line of people filtering in. Once you were through the doors, you made your way up the aisle, Aaron following close behind. Finding a spot about halfway back, you sat down and smoothed out your dress as he lowered himself into the pew. As he did, his arm brushed yours gently, and he was quick to apologize, but you responded just as swift, "oh, no problem! Thank you again, for coming with me today." As you exchanged smiles, you added, "I feel a lot better being here with someone I can talk to.. someone I'm comfortable with."

He could tell your words were sincere, and it warmed his heart. He felt like he should be thanking you, for the simple fact that you had accepted his offer to join you today. Allowing him to spend more time with you, knowing you trusted him and felt comfortable with him, seemingly made every worry of his fade into the background. He felt like the luckiest man alive just to be by your side.

As more people arrived and filled in the empty seats around you, a few familiar faces caught your attention, but only for a short enough period of time for you to throw them a quick wave, before you were back in deep conversation with Aaron. At one point he'd said something that made you laugh, and he was mesmerized, staring at that same crinkle in your nose that had first caught his attention those many months ago. You reached over, innocently placing your hand on his knee, and the warmth of your hand sent shockwaves through his system; like a jolt of electricity had entered his body at the point of contact and nearly stopped his heart from beating.

It wasn't long before the music began playing, and the wedding party was making their way in one by one. As the bride began walking down the aisle, you caught a glimpse of her, and she was absolutely stunning as you'd expected; she was one of those girls that was effortlessly beautiful. But your eyes quickly found their way to the front of the church. Your favourite thing at any wedding was watching the groom's reaction to seeing his soon-to-be wife making her way towards him.

Aaron noticed the slight turn to your head, and followed your line of sight. Once he noticed who you were looking at, a whole new understanding hit him; you might not have realized it, but your body language was clear as day. He immediately picked up on how intently you were watching the groom, paying the closest of attention to how in love he was. It was hard to fake that kind of a genuine reaction, and it was one that, typically, only the bride got to see.

Once more, as he glanced back at you, he felt the whole world disappear around him. He imagined himself up there, you walking towards him, as he tried his best to contain the tears that would evidently be threatening to escape. You nearly caught him staring at you, but thankfully the music fading and the voice of the officiant speaking snapped him back to reality as you turned to face him. Smiling at him, he returned a smile as you both seated yourselves once more.

The ceremony was over before you knew it, with the couple sharing their first kiss as husband and wife, before making their way back down the aisle.

Once outside, you shook the hands of a few old classmates, and congratulated the happy couple, giving your long-time friend a warm hug. And as much as you'd tried to fight it, you could feel yourself pulling away from the phony greetings with people who had hardly said a word to you in school, never mind in the years since you'd graduated. You were thankful that the line was moving rather quickly, because you didn't want to stick around and mingle much longer; there would be more than enough time to do that at the reception later, and you already weren't looking forward to it.

Aaron knew something was up, with how fast you had made your way out of the crowd of people and towards the parking lot, as he took long strides to keep up with you. "Hey, hey, is everything okay?" he spoke through a light laugh, but the genuine concern in his voice was apparent.

Once you reached the vehicle, you turned to face him and decided it was best to be honest, "I just want to get out of here.." Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke.

All he could do was nod, as he opened the door for you, allowing you to get settled before closing it once again. Your eyes followed him as he made his way around the vehicle and climbed into the drivers seat. "Where to?" It was a simple question, and you were thankful he hadn't questioned your urgency to get out of there; he knew you would tell him what was going on when you were ready.

Looking over at him, you admitted, "You know, it might sound kind of stupid, but I've always wanted to get all dressed up and go out for some cheap pizza."

Smiling at your honesty, he responded immediately, "consider it done. I know just the place."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The sound of singing played faintly over the radio as you drove, both of you silent, because he didn't want to pry, and you weren't ready to talk quite yet. But the stillness between you wasn't awkward. You both felt comfortable simply being in each other's company. Whether that was because you'd spent countless flights sitting near him without uttering a word, or because you truly trusted him and were thankful to be escaping the hell in your mind with him, you weren't sure, but you took note of the ease you felt around him. He felt it too, and couldn't help but smile to himself as he listened to the faint inhale and exhale of your lungs.

A few short minutes later, you arrived at a small hole-in-the-wall pizzeria, one you'd never heard of before. As he put the vehicle in park, he finally broke the silence, "this is one of my favourite places. It's cheap, not usually busy, and the pizza is surprisingly good."

Looking over at him, you smiled and nodded your head, "sounds good to me."

Once you were both out of the vehicle, he held the door to the restaurant open for you and you thanked him as you walked in. Glancing around, you saw that it was dimly lit, only 6 tables sat along the walls of the tight area, and in the back corner you saw an elderly man tossing crust by hand. As soon as he looked up from his work he smiled wide, "Oh hello Mr. FBI man! How is my favourite customer today?"

As your eyes trailed from him to Aaron, your chest swelled as you took in the bashful grin that crossed his face. "I'm doing well Marco, how are you?"

The man behind the counter smiled wide as he spoke, "oh you know me. Another day above ground is a good day." As Aaron laughed at the playful comment, Marco added, "and who is the beautiful lady you've brought with you today?" You felt your face flush, flattered by his kind words.

As Aaron glanced down at you, you swore you saw something in his eyes, something that told you he wanted to say more than he did, but he didn't give you time to read into it. "This is my friend, Y/N."

Aaron looked back over at Marco as he spoke, and your eyes followed his line of sight back to the cheerful man. "Well any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Where are you two off to dressed so fancy?"

You filled him in on your plans for the day, as you both ordered what you wanted. When you reached into your purse to pull out your wallet, Aaron stopped you, sliding his card into the machine before you could. "You didn't have to do that! This was my idea.”

Gazing down at you, he admitted, "I know. Consider it my thank you for letting me join you today. I'm having a great time."

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, soon spreading like wildfire across your face. "I am too. Thank you again for keeping me company."

He nodded in response before leading you to what you could only assume was his favourite table. In no time at all, the fresh slices of pizza were being brought out to you, and did it ever smell delicious. Diving right in, you hummed in delight, "you were right, this is some good pizza."

You talked about the restaurant, how he'd found it, how he takes Jack here all the time. The joy this place brought him warmed your heart. As he sat across from you, beaming as he spoke, you were quickly beginning to realize that at his core he was truly just a gentle man who enjoyed the little things. The stern, intimidating exterior you saw so often at work was simply that, a face he put on when dealing with the awful things humanity was capable of.

When the natural lull in the conversation settled between you two, you sighed quietly. Looking up at him, you spoke slowly, "I'm sorry for rushing out of there earlier." You couldn't hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds, as embarrassment over the way you'd acted prodded the back of your mind.

You caught the slight movement of his hand out of the corner of your eye, almost as if he was reaching out to grasp your hand in his, before deciding against it. "It's alright. Just as long as you're okay."

His genuine concern for you tugged at your heart, and you looked back up at him. "Yeah, I'm alright." You added with a laugh, "I think."

Giving you a gentle smile, he offered, "do you want to talk about it?"

That was all it took, and everything came pouring out. You explained it all, from the smaller things like never quite feeling like you belonged in your group of friends, never mind fitting in with majority of the people who were there today, right down to the lasting loneliness you'd felt for as long as you could remember.

As you spoke, Aaron sat and listened. He never once interjected or told you that you were crazy for feeling the way you did. He could only imagine what it must feel like to think that no one wanted you. He'd met Hailey when they were both so young, and as difficult as it was, he had to admit that some times he took that for granted. Reality was, not everyone had that.

It broke his heart to hear you talk about yourself the way you did. Knowing how he felt for you, and knowing you didn't feel like you were worthy of those feelings tore him apart. He wanted to say something. He wanted to confess everything. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and never let go.

But he didn't.

Bombarding you with all that when you were vulnerable could do damage, to both of you, and he didn't want that. He was going to be patient. He was going to show you that he was there for you. He was going to continue loving you from a comfortable distance, until the time was right.

"Gosh, listen to me. I'm so sorry." You shook your head and looked down at your hands, "welcome to the Y/N pity party."

"Hey, no, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm glad you feel comfortable sharing that with me." Finally looking back up at him, he continued, "those people, the ones you're so worried about impressing? I'm willing to bet they peaked in high school. I'm sure they see you now, successful, independent, and wish they had your work ethic. They're clinging onto the past, and them talking to you like you've been friends all this time is their way of trying to keep that connection alive, no matter how fabricated." You knew he was right. He was a profiler after all, and a damn good one at that. If you'd stopped to think about it, you might have drawn a similar conclusion, but hearing him say it out loud helped you to feel a little less crazy. "As for everything else, I can see why you feel that way, and I'm very sorry you do. No one should ever have to feel like that. But if I may, you are a remarkable woman. Anyone who can't see that, anyone who doesn't know how lucky they would be to call you theirs, isn't worth your time. Being patient and waiting for the right person will be worth it in the end, I can promise you that."

As you took in everything he had to say, you didn't realize just how much he meant every single syllable. He was hoping, with every fiber of his being, that you might some day realize that he could be that person for you.

It was all you could do to thank him, "you are very kind, Aaron. Thank you for saying that. You have no idea how much it means to me."

Giving you a warm smile, he nodded his head once more. He could feel the wall between you slowly coming down, brick by brick.

In no time at all, the ease of conversation had shifted back to where it was on the drive to the church. You found that you could talk to each other about everything. As you sat there in the dim light of the pizzeria, time raced by, and before you knew it, the reception was set to start in less than half an hour. You thanked Marco once again for the delicious food and the hospitality, before making your way out the door.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Arriving at the venue for the reception, he held the door open once again as you stepped into the foyer of the hotel. Making your way through the maze of hallways, you found yourself at the back of the line of people waiting to sign the guest book and find their seats. The seating chart displayed your name and Aaron's side by side at table 17, along with a bunch of names you didn't recognize. You weren't sure which one you would have preferred, small talk with people you'd never met, or small talk with people you had left in the past for a reason.

Finding your way through the crowd of people, you were thankful that table 17 was at the back of the room. You had a clear view of the head table, but you were also far enough away that you could sink into the background of the sea of faces.

The reception went as well as expected. Supper was served directly to your table, and you received the meal you'd pre-selected when you sent in your RSVP. The food was delicious, and you and Aaron both made a mental note to ask who had catered it. The MC was hilarious, and the parent’s speeches were warm and heartfelt. The cake cutting followed shortly after, and the classic smashing of the cake in each other’s faces made everyone laugh.

"Now if everyone could direct their attention to the dance floor," the DJ's commanding voice caught everyone's attention, "the bride and groom will share their first dance!"

You watched intently as they made their way across the room to the area that was lit by the glittering lights of a stunning backdrop. As she draped her arms over his shoulders, the music faded in and they began to sway. Every once in a while, one of them would pull back from the embrace to simply look into each other’s eyes, or to sing along to a favourite line in the song.

As you gazed across the crowded room, unable to take your eyes off them, your mind began racing once again. You so desperately wanted what they had. Your conversation with Aaron earlier had helped, and you knew that being patient was best, but you couldn't help but wonder when enough was enough. You'd waited your entire life, not even to find your ‘soulmate’, but simply to find someone who would hold you the way he was holding her. Even if it was temporary, and the relationship didn't have the legs to go the distance, you craved the feeling of being wanted, needed.

You felt tears welling behind your eyes, one tiny moment away from the dam breaking.

And that moment would come whether you liked it or not. One particular blink-and-you'll-miss-it glance between them sealed the deal. He looked into her eyes, brushed her hair out of her face, and though it was whispered, you could see it clear as day, the "I love you" that fell off his lips.

As the first tear escaped, you closed your eyes, squeezing them shut in an attempt to keep any more from making themselves known. But your efforts were in vain, as silent tears began rolling down your face, one after the other. Turning your face to the side, thankful that everyone in the room was focused on the happy couple and not you, you breathed in deep through your nose, and exhaled slowly through parted lips. A couple more deep breaths like that helped to slow your racing heart, and halted the tears where they stood, as the music faded out once more.

Abruptly turning your head to look back at Aaron, the remnants of the escaped tears still damp on your cheeks, your voice was broken as you spoke, “I’m going to get myself a drink now.” Glancing at him, he saw the look on your face, but he didn't say anything. He knew exactly what you were thinking. The conversation earlier made it abundantly clear, but you knew deep down that he would have figured it out anyway; he could see the pain behind your beautifully heartbroken exterior.

Nodding, he stood from his chair and reached a hand out to you. Placing your hand in his, he wrapped his strong fingers around yours. Once you were standing, he let go of your hand, only because his instincts were working faster than his thoughts, and before his mind had time to catch up and stop him, he rested his hand on the small of your back. You felt it immediately, but you didn’t pull away; you welcomed the comforting gesture. As you made your way over to the bar, he trailed close behind you, his hand still on your back.

You’d just made it to the back of the short line at the bar when Aaron leaned in and spoke softly, “would you excuse me for a minute?”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you responded with a gentle, “of course.”

As he smiled down at you, you noticed something in the way he looked at you; something similar to the look he gave you earlier when he had introduced you at the pizzeria. But in no time, he was down the hallway, pushing the door to the men’s room open, your eyes lingering on his tall frame as he made his way through the crowd.

You would come to find out later, he had excused himself for those couple minutes because he knew he was mere seconds away from whisking you away from all the commotion and comforting you in any way you would allow him. Though you hadn’t reacted negatively, he felt as though the hand on your back had been too bold of a move, and he was kicking himself for not having been able to control his actions better. After seeing you so heartbroken, the lines from tears still fresh on your face, he wanted nothing more than to do anything he could to take all that pain away. He couldn’t stand seeing you hurting so deeply.

Turning to face the bar once more, you were trying to decide what drink you might want; you didn’t have anything in mind, in fact you didn’t drink often, but alcohol felt like the right move after the brazen attack on you by your own emotions.

As your eyes scanned the drink menu, you’d hardly noticed the person in front of you turning around to greet you, “Y/N? Oh my gosh hi! It’s been so long!”

As your eyes flickered away from the menu, you found yourself face to face with a stunning woman, her blonde hair tied back in a half-up hairstyle, and a bright blue dress accentuating her curves flawlessly. “Emma? Hi, wow it has been a while. How have you been?”

As you both shared generic greetings, you couldn’t help the anxious feeling growing inside you. You had hardly recovered from watching the first dance, and you weren’t sure you were ready to take on a conversation you didn’t really want to be having.

“So how long have you two been together?” She asked, motioning with her head down the hallway towards Aaron.

Your eyes widened slightly as your mind frantically tried to correct the assumption, “Oh! No, no we’re not together. We’re just.. friends. Co-workers actually.” She raised her eyebrow, and your eyes flickered from hers, then down the hallway, then back at her.

“If you say so,” she said through a smirk.

Blinking a couple times, trying to interpret what she meant, you murmured, “I’m sorry?”

Laughing lightly, she admitted, “I apologize if I’m overstepping here, but the way he was looking at you earlier? During their first dance? It looked like a lot more than ‘just friends’ to me.”

All you could do was stare, almost unable to process the information penetrating your blissfully unaware state of mind. While you’d been watching the happy couple share their first dance, heart aching with want for what they had, Aaron had been looking at you.

Before you had the chance to respond, you heard footsteps approaching from the side. You hadn’t looked over yet, but you knew it was him. It was almost as if your senses were on high alert, as the familiar scent of his cologne filled your lungs. You’d breathed in that same mix of sandalwood and.. something sweet that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.. before. You simply hadn’t realized until now that your body had logged that scent in your subconscious alongside the feelings of comfort and safety.

Finally glancing up to the side, Hotch read the look in your eyes and immediately knew something was off. He glanced warily from you, to the girl you were talking to, then back at you. As you made eye contact with the stunning blonde once again, you hesitated before speaking, “uhh.. Emma, this is Aaron.”

Looking back up at him, you noticed he was still looking at you, taking in every micro-expression on your face in an attempt to read the situation. As he turned his head to face her, he reached out his hand in greeting, they shook hands briefly and exchanged pleasantries. “Pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

The low rumble in his voice lingered in your chest; that was new.

“Likewise,” Emma responded gently.

As silence fell between you, you wanted the conversation to end before she said anything about her observations in front of him. It was almost like the bartender had read your mind, because just as she parted her lips to say something, her attention was pulled away, “miss, what could I get for you?”

As she turned to face the bar, she ordered her drink before turning back to you. Before she could ask any more questions about you and Hotch, you spoke up, “anything exciting happening in your life?”

Smiling wide, she was all too ready to brag about her perfect life. She had an amazing husband, three kids, and a golden retriever. She was the face of the picture-perfect family. Selfishly comparing your life to hers, part of you wished you’d let her believe that you and Aaron were together.

You faked a smile as best you could, and wished her and her family nothing but the best, before the bartended set her drink on the counter. “Well it’s been great catching up with you! Again Aaron, nice to meet you.”

Hotch simply nodded in response as you said your goodbyes, “enjoy the rest of your evening.”

The look she gave you before she turned away was one of, “think about what I said..” and you did your best to play it off like it was nothing.

No such luck.

Once you’d ordered your drink, Aaron teased, “What was that about?” He could tell something was off, especially with the last look exchanged between you two.

Laughing softly, you did your best impression of not caring, and simply said, “Oh it’s nothing.”

He could tell you were holding something back, but he didn’t want to pry. You saw it on his face, you weren’t a good liar, but he respected that you didn’t want to explain any further, and you were grateful for that. How you would have explained the comment she’d made before you’d even had time to process how you felt about it wouldn’t have been easy.

Once your drink was in your hands, you began making your way back to your table, Aaron following closely behind. You tried to focus on anything other than the moment earlier that you’d been unaware of. You fought with what to do, what to say. The new information rattling around in your mind made everything a little foggy. Was there more to him offering to accompany you tonight? Could you possibly feel the same way for him? Why had you never considered him before? He was kind, and strong, and as you’d found out tonight he was gentle when it mattered. And handsome.. so handsome. But he was your boss. You knew that was why you’d never given him a second look, you didn’t want to make things difficult at work. But maybe he would be worth the risk.

Finally making it back to the table, he pulled your chair out for you, and you thanked him before sitting down and taking a sip of your drink. The father-daughter dance had just ended, and the groom was now sharing a dance with his mother. When you saw the look on the mother’s face, it was clear she was proud of her son, and nothing could hide the pure joy radiating from her.

Looking over at Aaron, you saw the strangled smile on his face, and couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about Jack, about how he would never have the chance to share a moment like that with Haley. Though you hadn’t been working at the BAU during the Foyet case, you knew about it, and your heart ached for him. You knew it wasn’t his fault, but you also knew him, and there was no doubt in your mind that he blamed himself for everything.

Before you knew what you were doing, you reached a hand out and placed it on top of his comfortingly. He looked down at your hand first, before his eyes trailed along your arm, across your shoulder and collarbone, then to your face. Just as you were beginning to second guess your decision and pull your hand away, a soft smile creased the corner of his eyes as he covered your hand with his. Squeezing your hand gently, he looked you in the eyes, and he knew you were reading his mind like an open book.

Once again, with the confidence and comfortability that could rival that of people who had known each other for years, you spoke just loud enough for him to hear over the music, “Jack is lucky to have you as his father.”

He blinked slowly, before dropping his head and letting out a deep sigh. Looking back up at you, he smiled once again, and you knew it was his way of thanking you for being so kind.

The vulnerability in that moment brought a whole new level of confidence to you. So what if he knew what Emma had said earlier? So what if you were unsure of your feelings for him. Even though the possibility of you two had nearly blindsided you, you wanted to see if there was more to it than just what you knew in your own mind.

Squeezing his hand once more, you laughed softly before leaning in, “do you really want to know what she said earlier?” Gazing at you, a smirk appeared on his face as he nodded, and you confessed, “she thought you and I were together.”

Raising an eyebrow slightly, he couldn’t help it as his eyes trailed from yours, down to your lips, and even farther down to the silky green fabric hugging your curves. He finally looked back into your eyes and asked, “and what did you tell her?”

A bashful smile crossed your face, but you answered honestly, “I told her we weren’t. But only because I didn’t want to put that on you. I truly appreciate you being here with me, and being so kind to me, but I didn’t want to take advantage of that. I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with it.” You never would have imagined yourself being so bold, so brave, when talking to a man, especially him. But everything had changed during that interaction with your old friend. The fact that she had noticed the way he looked at you, coupled with the look in his eyes you’d made note of earlier, had you coming to the realization that there just might be something there. It had you feeling like you could take on the world.

Just then, your attention was pulled away from one another as the DJ made another announcement. “We’re going to squeeze a couple more slow songs in here for any couples that might want a moment to themselves before we get the party started!”

Turning back to look at each other, he scanned your face carefully, almost as if deciding whether or not to act on the heat coursing through his veins. Finally caving, not only from what he was feeling in that moment, but under the weight of everything he’d felt for you for months, he leaned in close so only you could hear, “so let them..” His voice was more carefree than you’d ever heard it before, “let them think we’re together.”

He abruptly stood from his seat and reached his hand out to you. With your hand in his once more, he lead you through the crowd of people and onto the dance floor. Stopping right in the middle of the sea of bodies, he turned to face you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach come to life. You two might not actually be together, but he wasn’t afraid to show you off, he wasn’t ashamed to let people think that you were his.

Still holding your hand in his, he looked you in the eyes before gently placing his other hand on your waist. With your interlocked hands stretched out to one side, you placed your free hand against the breast pocket of his suit and slowly slid your palm along the soft material until it was resting on his shoulder.

As the music continued, you both began to sway back and forth, neither one of you able to look away, completely caught up in each other’s gaze. The bashful grin that flashed across his face made your heart stop, and suddenly it was like everything around you faded into the background, and the world began spinning in slow motion.

The people around you didn’t matter.

The aching in your feet from wearing heels all day didn’t matter.

The only thing you cared about in that moment was him.

It was clear he felt the same way you did. Unable to fight the urge to hold you close any longer, he acted before he fully understood what he was doing. Using his hand that was still grasping yours firmly, he moved your hand to his shoulder and encouraged you to wrap both of your arms around him.

You looked up at him and he gave you a look that enveloped your entire body in warmth, and suddenly everything clicked; you knew you would remember this day, this moment, for the rest of your life.

There was no longer a need to overthink everything, you were simply acting on impulse now. Stepping forward and wrapping your arms even farther around his neck, you pulled him close and immediately felt his entire body sigh. As he slowly wrapped his arm farther around your waist, he gently cupped the back of your head with his free hand and pulled you into his chest.

The second your cheek met his sturdy frame, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. Somehow, even with your arms wrapped tight around each other, you felt like you weren’t holding him close enough. Sliding your hands back down from around his shoulders, you tucked your arms under his and around his waist, underneath his suit jacket. Feeling his body heat radiating through his shirt made you sigh against his chest, and before you knew it, he was placing a gentle kiss against your hair.

Resting his chin on top of your head, he held you impossibly close, his large palms lying flat against your back. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat calmed even the deepest of worries within you, and you felt like you never wanted this moment to end.

As he held you, swaying back and forth, he knew that trying to describe how he felt in this moment would be a hopeless task. There were simply no words for finally feeling your body this close to his, being able to wrap his arms around you and protect you from harm. Up until then, his hopes and dreams had been just that. But now, finally getting to hold you in his arms, everything became terrifyingly real.

In that moment, he truly fell in love.

He was utterly and completely in love with you.

Once the song began to fade out, you were hit with the conflicting feeling of the dance having lasted an eternity, yet not being long enough. You didn’t want to let go, but the commanding voice of the DJ rang in your ears once again, “Oooookay everybody, let’s get this party started!!”

You felt Aaron reluctantly release his grasp on you, as you pulled back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. The second your eyes met his, your stomach jumped into your throat. Everything had happened so fast, but it all felt so right. The overwhelming urge to pull his lips to yours was coursing through your veins, and you knew he was thinking the same thing, as his eyes flickered down to your parted lips.

The magnetic pull he felt towards you was immense, but he knew he needed to wait. He didn’t want to kiss you for the first time in a crowded room full of strangers, and he didn’t want to kiss you simply because it felt right in that moment; he wanted to be sure that it was what you wanted, too.

Before either of you could act on it, he leaned in close and spoke just loud enough so you could hear him over the music, “let’s get some air.”

Grasping your hand in his once more, he lead you through the seemingly endless group of people to the side of the building, where the door lead out to a stunning patio and garden. As you both glanced around, you noticed that there were only a handful of other people out there, most everyone else was inside enjoying the music.

Not letting go of your hand, he lead you down the steps, into the garden, and along the gravel pathway. Only a few steps along, there was an unoccupied bench, and you followed his lead as he sat down. The view was stunning, you could see the skyline in the distance, with the sun low in the sky.

He still hadn’t let go of your hand as you sat down beside each other. You only encouraged him to release the grasp on your hand so you could tuck your arm under his. Hugging his arm tight, you rested your cheek on his shoulder and you both sat there in silence for a short while, simply breathing in the fresh air and watching as the sun slowly slipped beyond the horizon.

Your mind was at peace for the first time in a long time, and you only had him to thank for it.

In the last couple minutes before the sun disappeared completely, he shifted slightly and you let go of his arm so you could turn to face him as well. “I had a wonderful time with you today,” his voice was sincere.

As he spoke, you felt that same feeling well up inside you again; one that told you exactly what you wanted him to do. You managed to utter one more thing before he finally leaned in, “Aaron, I..” you trailed off, finding yourself completely unable to express just how much today meant to you, “me too..”

And with that, his hand found it’s way to the side of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek lovingly. He paused momentarily, giving you the opportunity to pull away if this wasn’t what you wanted. But it was exactly what you wanted, and you showed him by resting your hand on his thigh gently, before closing the gap between you.

As your lips finally connected, you felt the air change around you. Everything suddenly felt much warmer, as your face flushed, and your heartbeat began to rise.

Aaron deepened the kiss first, as months of repressed feelings began to surface. Pressing his lips against yours passionately, he felt your grip on his thigh tighten and he could have sworn that was what touching heaven felt like.

His hand quickly found its way into your hair, and he curled his fingers, tugging ever so gently, eliciting a soft moan from you. Swallowing the whimper on your lips, he kissed you deeply once more, before finally breaking away.

With your eyes still closed, all you could hear was the harmony of your heavy breathing matching his. Resting his forehead against yours, still breathing through parted lips, he admitted, “I have wanted to do that for a very long time.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips as you pulled back to look him in the eyes. Bringing your hand up to the side of his face, it was your turn to caress his cheek as you responded playfully, “well I guess we have a lot of catching up to do.” The smile that graced his lips made your heart skip a beat, as you leaned in and kissed his lips tenderly once more.

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you into his loving embrace once again, as your arms circled his waist and you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. For the first time in your life, you felt truly cared for, you felt safe. And he knew it, too, as he kissed the top of your head and held you close.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28

#go it alone #hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch #aaron hotchner #ssa hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch girls #thomas gibson #criminal minds #bau #behavioural analysis unit #fan fiction

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criminalskies · 6 months

Note

Aaron letting you borrow his spare shirt and/or dresspants on a case cuz your go bag gets stolen by the obsessive unsub you're trying to catch rn cuz Aaron's just so sweet like that 🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖

Oh my goooosh he would too.

whether his shirts fit you like a glove or make you look like you've raided your father's wardrobe, sleeves rolled up four times before the tips of your fingers peek out, he looks at you in his clothes with complete awe and adoration. He can't help it.

The team all note how he instantaneously decided to share half his go-bag with you instead of offering to take you to a store or even discuss who on the team may have spare clothes for you. He just swept his bag up into his arms and brought it to you telling you to take out whatever you wanted, just leave him an extra change of clothes and he'll make do.

Morgan and Rossi share a sort of look which is more eyebrows than it is anything else but they know how particular Hotchypoo is about his clothes so this is a real big move for him.

You come out of your hotel room the next morning adorning his clothes and he wonders if he's burst a lung with the way he just cannot catch his breath looking at you. You look so radiant in his clothes. His heart just melts watching you interact with Prentiss but you're wearing his clothes like they're made for you.

He receives quite a gentle shove on his shoulder from Derek who's grinning ear to ear seeing his boss all lovestruck, as Dave rounds Aaron's other shoulder telling him that feeling in his stomach is a good one. It's telling him to just go for it. Be happy.

You feel like you must look a little silly, Hotch makes all of his clothes look so effortlessly sexy and you suppose you're resembling a dolphin with legs right about now, something just looks out of place. You must look like something's missing, normally, the wearer of these clothes carries an authority that's not to be messed with. You figure this just proves that it's the man underneath the suit that causes that effect, it has nothing to do with the material itself.

It isn't until the coldest day yet on the case, a freezing cold wind blowing through the small town you're investigating, when Hotch comes to realise he's only packed one jacket. He offers it to you without a moment's thought, sealing his fate of receiving knowing looks from the entire team all week. That's a move as old as time.

He manages to find an FBI puffer in one of the SUVs to wear and now it's your lungs you fear aren't inflating properly. Seeing his tall figure wear the Michelin Man style coat with nothing short of a runway model's finesse.

When the two of you stand almost shoulder to shoulder before a takedown, the team discussing tactical plans, you try achingly hard to ignore the heat you can feel rising off of the man beside you as his eyes seem to drift to you in his quarter zip at the end of every sentence from Reid.

During the takedown with the unsub, when your gun was kicked from your grasp and the unsub came lunging towards you with a knife, it was Hotch's big strong hands that came to grab you by the back of his quarterzip to pull you out of harm's way as he shot the unsub once, twice for good measure before he pulled you into his arms as EMTs and local deputies flooded the warehouse, buzzing around you as you stood, tightly circled in his embrace. Every layer of warmth cloaking your body as you shook from the adrenaline of it all having come from one man and one man only.

It takes the two of you a while to separate again, and even as you do, as your wound on your arm is checked out by paramedics and you're walking back to the station, Hotch's hand never seems to leave your side. Either guiding your back as you walk or tightly grasping your shoulders to relax you as you continue coming down from the shock of it all, and start to lean into him for comfort and support.

Even as Hotch has to leave to berate the local enforcements for their complete lack of cooperation throughout the investigation hindering your team, he leaves you with a hot cup of tea and his FBI puffer draped over your shoulders in a quiet office while he chews out the officers in charge.

If the two of you return to dinner from your rooms after having caught the unsub, and the two of you seem to have swapped dress shirts, nobody mentions it. It goes without saying that it took only one glimpse of what a life together might be like to make the two of you decide that a life apart is just no longer worth exploring.

#this kinda got away from me #idk #rome’s got mail!#HOTCH MAIL!#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner imagine

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

aaron hotchner man.. 🫶 what i wouldnt give to be that mans controversially young goth gf

>:((?? he's so fucking fine

throwing myself down a staircase

i need to be the reason he has a midlife crisis i'm so serious 😫

#mei's mail #i'd suck him SO GOOD #his soul would leave his body i swear #hotch one chance i will change the game

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

Text

unknown targets — spencer reid

request: Where it’s a Spencer x fem! Reader, and they are married (the team loves them together). What if they had 2 kids (you can choose gender), JJ is the only one that knows about their kids because they didn’t want their kids to become targets to unsubs. One day while they are hunting down Scratch ( a little before Hotch leaves), and a letter gets sent to the team. It’s a picture of Spencer and the readers kids. Everyone is confused on who they are, which causes Spencer and the reader to tell them. It’s up to the team to find them summary: the team gets a letter from scratch that includes an image of you and spencer’s kids. the problem? they were supposed to be a secret to everyone but you. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst with happy ending content warnings: language, kidnapped children, overconsumption of coffee word count: 1.8k

summer of fics masterlist masterlist want to join my taglist?

It was the worst scenario Spencer could have ever imagined.

The moment you’d told him you were having a kid, he’d been petrified of this exact moment. Having little Florence in his life though made all the worry worth it. Then Nicky came along and Spencer was sure he couldn’t be happier. Your kids became his life, the very thing that made him so excited to go home at the end of the day.

You couldn’t believe your luck either. It was the perfect family, the happiest ending you could have ever pictured for yourself.

Then came the picture in the mail. All it took was one picture, one particular image to ruin everything.

Because when the kids were born, you and Spencer came to a tough decision. It would be better for the team to not know about it. The only person who knew was JJ because she’d helped you take the time off you needed while taking care of the babies. It had been to protect them, considering their parents were both elite agents in the FBI.

Except now, one of the worst unsubs they’d ever tried to take down not only knew about your kids but had them somewhere.

So that was how you and Spencer stood in front of the team now, each of them passing around a photo of your kids holding hands with Mr. Scratch.

“You have kids,” Emily was the first to speak up, handing the picture back to Spencer despite his quivering hands.

“They were taken by Scratch. They were both in elementary school and the school said they got into a car that looked like ours,” Spencer explained nervously. He hadn’t been able to sit still since you’d gotten the call from your babysitter that the kids weren’t at the school, since speeding home and finding that picture taped to the door.

That fucking picture, of Scratch holding onto two little hands, of your kids looking perfectly healthy but confused, a ghost of a smile on each of their faces beyond it. You could only imagine what he’d told them to elicit such a Spencer look from them—Smile for Mommy and Daddy, kids. We want to let them know Uncle Scratch got you okay.

The thought curdled in your stomach, made you grip the skin there with such force you were sure your nails would leave little crescent indentations behind. Your husband watched you, hand hovering just over yours as he fought to consider what level of comfort you needed now and what you would actually want.

Because ever since the beginning, the two of you had rules for each other. Limit the outward shows of affection at work, partly to maintain a reputation and so no unsub would notice the obvious chink in both of your respective armors.

It was meant to protect you, but all you could think now was that it may have damned you.

Because here was your team, immediately launching into action when your explanation halted. Your team, having never met these kids before, were ready to lay their lives down for them you were sure. Derek grabbed a set of keys and announced that he and JJ would go to the school, to trace the exact path that led to your kids’ disappearance. Emily would continue trying to track Scratch from where they’d lost him before, every so often watching the two of you for signs of needing help. Penny would be scouring databases and networks, knowing Scratch couldn’t be working alone, not if he managed to get ahold of both of your kids so easily. Rossi and Tara would go to talk to witnesses, your babysitter, anyone who could give them a scrap of information you didn’t already know.

You and Spencer would both try to work too. You’d pour over the evidence, trying to keep your eyes off of that picture now pinned to a board with their names written in Spencer’s writing under it. You’d see the moment Hotch pulled your husband away, and you’d see the moment your husband returned with red-rimmed eyes and a determined look on his entire body.

Hotch would pull you aside too, guiding you to his office and shutting the door. “You need to take breaks, too,” he would remind you, sliding you a cup of coffee you already knew wouldn’t have nearly enough cream for your taste but appreciating the offering regardless.

“I’ll take a break when they’re found,” you answered, and Hotch didn’t seem surprised in the least by your reply. You fought to remind yourself that out of everyone here, he was the one who understood your struggle far too closely. His wife and child had been taken by an unsub too, though his had a far more gruesome ending than you were hoping for.

“Your kids need you at your best right now,” he told you, watching as you cradled the cup of coffee that would count as your fourth of the day. “You can’t be at your best if you burn yourself out.”

“Look, Hotch, every second I spend resting is another second they’re with him. I can’t—I can’t even breathe thinking about what’s happening to them.”

“That’s what he wants, you know.” And you did, fuck did you understand that. Hell, you were on the team of people who were supposed to understand unsub’s motives, of course, you would understand that Scratch’s motive was to send you and Spencer into a panic. If you were terrified for your kids, then you weren’t in the right headspace to catch him. He could get away with everything if he had that sort of leverage over you.

“Fuck,” you hissed, gulping down the rest of the coffee and setting it down on Hotch’s desk. You’d apologize for the language later, for the ring that was sure to form on his desk under the mug. “Fuck, you’re right. You’re always right.”

As you bolted out of his office to collect your husband, you were sure you saw pride in Hotch’s eyes—it wasn’t hard to imagine that pride was there simply for you.

Your relief didn’t come until a full twenty-four hours later. It was Tara who’d been able to put the pieces together, who was able to find the house your kids were being kept at. Even before you’d gotten there, you knew that of all the things you’d find there, Scratch would not be among them.

That had been the deal he’d sent you in the encrypted message. Let him get away, stall to give him time, and your kids would be returned to you. After your team had caught onto Scratch’s plan, after they were closing in on him, this message was the only thing that gave you proof your kids were still alright, that they still could come back from this.

That didn’t stop you from rushing into the house the second you could, the only person able to match your speed being Spencer himself. Your kids were in front of a TV, watching an old episode of Wiley E Coyote narrowly missing the Roadrunner.

The symbolism was not lost on you.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Florence was the first to notice you, not phased at all by all the vests and guns and people around her. She only saw you two, first sprinting to Spencer. You let out a quiet little cry as he wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up, hand on the back of her head and gently guiding her face into the crook of his neck so she wouldn’t see any more of the FBI’s greatest weaponry. She was still young, still innocent, still safe.

It was her happy cheer that alerted Nicky to the change. His head whipped around, surprise coating his features before pure joy spread there instead. “Momma!” He only knew a few words, but your name was one of them.

He toddled over to you, giggling brightly as you scooped him up and cradled him in the same fashion Spencer held his sister. You watched your husband then, smiling as he mouthed, ‘they’re okay’ as a reminder to both you and him.

You nodded. They were okay. Your team had done it.

They would always do it, time and again. You knew this as Derek and Emily stepped over to Spencer, saying something to Florrie that had her laughing as loudly and sweetly as she always used to before this. You knew it in the way Hotch stood in the front door of the house, scanning the scene and always watching over you all. You knew it in the way Tara came to you, with a gentle voice and kind eyes as she asked Nicky what he wanted for dinner, because she and JJ would go get whatever those kids wanted and needed right now.

You knew it in the way your team, your family, came back to your house that night and slept in the living room, keeping watch over your kids as you all recovered.

At first, you’d been terrified of them knowing about your kids, terrified that by letting them in somehow you’d be damning your kids to the same fate you were sure you and Spencer were destined for. And yet, they’d been taken anyway. It was only letting the team know about them that ultimately saved them from that same fate.

So you and Spencer would talk about it, but the answer was already decided. You’d let them in, you’d trust your work family with your kids, and you would be all the better for it in the end.

GENERAL TAGLIST @samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @raythefaye @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @exhaleli @darkeunology @nomajdetective @meggie-m00n @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels

ONESHOT TAGLIST @natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #dad!spencer #jay writes in theory

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hotchs-bitch · 1 year

Text

Fluffy Feb Day 1- First Date

Warnings: sleep interrupted, angsty-ish start (sorry)

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 942

A/N: here we go!!! I’m crazy excited for this month; these blurbs have been a labour of love, and I really hope y’all enjoy them :)

When Aaron first asked you out, two months after moving into the apartment down the hall from yours, you were ecstatic. Of course you were.

After all, he’s tall and handsome and kind. He’s always quick to smile at you in the elevator, or make his son laugh. You’ve only seen the kid once or twice, but the gentleness with which Aaron treats him is a dead giveaway that tells you how cherished he is.

All in all, you were excited to go on a date with Aaron. You’ve been excited ever since he came over to ask for a cup of sugar and ended up asking you out instead. You’ve been excited for four months now, and that excitement is slowly waning into the understanding that he just doesn’t want to go out with you.

Why else would he cancel this many times, usually at the last minute? Why else would he only use your phone number to text you, abruptly getting your attention at the oddest hours of the night just to say ‘I’m sorry, something came up’, or ‘I won’t be able to make it tomorrow’, or ‘Can you collect my mail for a few days?’?

It’s hardly subtle anymore, and it’s getting harder to ignore the facts. He obviously regrets asking you out. He doesn’t want to make things weird, since you’re neighbours.

It’s a little confusing that he keeps rescheduling, though. ‘I have to work Saturday’ is always followed by, ‘But does next week work for you?’, until the day that it isn’t.

He cancels for the hundredth time, as he always does, at the last minute by citing a work emergency. No text follows, no attempt made to reschedule. Just ‘I’m going to have to work tonight’.

Maybe it’s the lack of apology, or the lack of response to your, ‘It’s okay. Raincheck?’ that makes you realize that you’ve given Aaron far too many chances by now. You won’t be going out with him, and you just have to accept that.

Well, you’ve officially got no plans for your Friday night. Eventually you go to sleep early with a frown on your face, and a phone that doesn’t ping with a text from Aaron all night.

———

You’re awoken shortly after 7 AM by a knock on your door. It’s so early that the sun is barely up, casting the room into a dim sunrise glow as you scramble to find a robe and get to the door before the knocking ceases.

When the door opens, it reveals Aaron with a bundle of flowers in one hand and the other poised to knock again. He freezes in position, but quickly schools himself into a smile and holds out the flowers. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he greets.

The confusion on your face prompts him to continue speaking while you take in his appearance. He looks dishevelled in dark blue jeans and a black polo shirt, there’s dark bags under his eyes, and his hair is tufted up in the back. You’re so busy staring that you almost forget to listen to him.

“We just landed an hour ago. I didn’t feel right, cancelling on you again, so…” he holds the flowers out again, and this time you take them. “I was hoping for a redo. Can I take you out for breakfast?”

“You look exhausted,” is the first thing you can think to say, and he gives you a tired smile in return. “Are you seriously wanting to go out right now?”

“Yes.” The affirmation gives no room for argument. “I want to take you out. I’ve been wanting to for months, so I think we should take the chance while we’ve got it.”

One hand comes up to scrub over your face, wiping away traces of sleep. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“It is.” He looks back at you with eyes that narrow slightly, as though in realization. “You were sleeping.”

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself on the doorframe with one hand. Aaron is still looking at you with a guilty grimace on his face, not speaking.

“I’ll tell you what,” you say after an agonizing silence, “You can take me out to breakfast. But,” you hurry to finish speaking before he can get too excited, “That has to be our second date.”

A slowly-growing smile replaces the guilt on Aaron’s face. “So, what should the first date be?” He asks, leaning against the side of the doorframe opposite to your hand. “Since you’ve got all these ideas.”

“I think we should take a nap.” You open your door the rest of the way, giving Aaron an in that he takes with a small step forward. “I barely slept, and you look like you don’t remember what a bed looks like.”

“That obvious?” He scratches the back of his head, and you smile as the bashful gesture as you usher him in to the apartment.

“Very obvious. Besides,” you point out as the apartment door closes and Aaron takes your hand in his, “What kind of restaurant is open this early on a Saturday?”

You aren’t sure about this whole date thing, not at all. His work schedule is unpredictable at best, he’s obviously got a wildly different sleep schedule than you, and he’s got a kid. Are you ready to be a parent, if it ends up going that well? You aren’t sure.

But when Aaron tilts his head back and laughs aloud at your comment- whether it’s from exhaustion or thinking you’re just that funny, you can’t be sure- you know that you’ll do whatever you can to make this work.

Fluffy Feb masterlist | Next Day >

Fluffy Feb tags: @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb @iammirrorball @hausofwhores @allthefandomstogether @myweepingangel @hotched @spacecowboyhotch (send me a dm or ask to be tagged!)

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reidsboy · 3 months

Text

— ONESHOT; night shift.

pairing: spencer reid + male reader.

genre: minor hurt/comfort.

warnings + extra: self depricating inner monologue, no established relationship, mentions of substance + cannon typical violence. wc - 1k.

you're having a hard time in the BAU and think about a future without it, and therefore, without spencer.

──────────────────────────────

The case gnawed at your soul, the kind that made you wonder if it was worth doing this, when they would never stop coming to people's doors, people's lives.

Spencer made for a lousy distraction, muttering things under his breath and pining things to the board, and even if your eyes burned, his back and fidgeting hands were the only thing that didn’t hurt to see. Still, you figured a smoke break would make you a bit more compliant, walking outside the station, with the cold aching in your bones, pressing your jeans against concrete.

A while after, the door came open again and Spencer sat by your side, waiting patiently and silent, which was not a quality he put much into practice. But he would, for you.

“All my life I've been told I should give it up for something bigger than me, s'mthing greater. And I think I deserve a quiet life.” You finally mumbled into the night, sat in the stairs of the police department of a state you've never been in before.

Spencer's eyes widened, there was a lot to unpack there.

“Nine to five, magazine house, kitchen table bills and Sunday meals? That doesn’t sound like you.” Spencer said, tilting his head, sitting next to you. You were never the kind to talk about — much, really. Quiet and protective of the team, always keeping behind them, catching bullets and beatings and attitude. So now that you are, Spencer listens; and couldn't help but profile. A little bit.

“I'd have dogs. Train them to follow my kids around.”

At that, Spencer laughs a little, you were of military upbringing and Hotch still called you ‘sargeant’ every now and then. He can see it, an array of big junkyard dogs — and then, he realizes. “Kids?”

“Mhm, a boy and a girl, maybe.” You spoke quietly and didn't smile a lot, but you were in the mood to do a lot of things you didn't usually do, apparently. Your hands flexed in each other, scarred and rough and unsure if they could ever be used to do something other than harm.

“No wife?” Spencer asked, like he always did, without fussing around it. And when you looked up at him, with a clenched jaw and a bit too close to each other, his breath hitched. Your gaze went to his lips, much like a magnet. “Do you think you could do it? Have that life.” Spencer said instead.

And you knew what he meant. The BAU and the things you and the team worked with, can't be forgotten. You can take yourself out of it, people tried; but you'll never forget that there’s always another one out there, in the loose. And you'll have night terrors and trembling hands and bad vices. You'd be a bad father, an even worse husband to no one at all.

So, you shook your head. “No.” You whispered and with a heavy heart, you looked at him and put a heavier hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing over the skin only once, before dropping back on the grimy cement. Spencer's eyes were always shiny when he looked up at you, like they’d never dim. And as soon as it started, it was over.

It was all a fantasy, the house with the white fence and the sun in your face. When you’d try to sleep, you'd pretend to have kids you'd drive to school and kiss before they left, and dogs to feed and mail to tend, and in this fantasy, no criminal would get back at you, and you never crave a file and a badge, you'll leave and never look at a murderer in the face again, you'll never look through the barrel of a gun or feel a stab in your chest.

And you'll never see him again, or any of them, if you could help it.

The familiar sound of police sirens boomed in your head and the lot filled with cars, the unsub they were bringing into the station looked you right in the eye, bloodied hands and foul-minded, and you knew. You can't have that peace.

You get up and help push the criminal past the doors.

──────────────────────────────

Only when it was late, in the plane, do you stop. It’s dark and you always sleep with your back to a wall and one eye closed, and all you'll have is these people, who, if God helps them, will leave one day, or die trying.

You sigh and your eyes open, Reid's got files piled up on the table and a book in his hand, and he never notices your gaze, or so you think.

He knows, but won’t say a thing. Your head then leaned on his shoulder, and you almost believe it's enough, that you'll live on planes and blood just for this. For a shoulder of wool and flesh to rest your head upon at the end of the day.

Spencer doesn’t move, and he doesn't think he can, much like a cat resting on you, he barely breathes, and keeps his eyes on every word, rereading them a thousand times so as not to flip the page, finally lowering it in his lap altogether.

“Hey, what's it about?” You asked him quietly, your cheek to Reid's shoulder, only for you to look up and press a single kiss to his jaw. Your hand, broad and hard flat on the other side of his face, and dropping it when you returned to his shoulder.

“It's a text on the overview of philosophy, delving deep into the history and ideas that shaped humankind's understanding of itself, the world around it, and everything in between. Do you still want the house and kids?” Spencer spoke it all the same, and you bit back a smile.

“No, not so much. Not now.”

Because you knew he was only a face in a picture and a name in a wrinkled letter in that fantasy and there will be times where your heart would break all over again, and you'll be numb to it. So for now, it is enough.

──────────────────────────────

+ like, repost and comment something if you liked it.

#spencer reid male reader #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #im in love with him #hurt/comfort #fluff #writing

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her-storybooks · 2 years

Text

Anemone for Anticipation - Aaron Hotchner and Y/N

Summary: Prompt: A time when they received flowers. Or when Y/N comes to work with a surprise on her desk. Author's Notes: The fact that this was created to celebrate 700 followers and now we're approaching 800 is insane! I LOVE you all! <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Y/N was looking down at her phone when she heard the ping of the elevator doors. She was about to step forward and stride towards her desk when she saw the three pairs of shoes blocking her path. Two pairs of sensible black shoes and one pair of pink polka dot heels. Y/N followed the bodies up to see three faces staring back at her, smiles bright and overly stretched.

“Hey guys,” Y/N welcomed, elongating her vowels in suspicion. They continued to stare back at her with unwavering grins. “What’s up?” Penelope squealed excitingly, grabbing Y/N’s arm, and pulling her out of the elevator. JJ and Emily wrapped their arms into the tangle and began guiding her into the BAU bullpen. “Guys! What’s going on?” she shrieked as the women giggled and scuffled her in different directions.

“We could ask you the same thing!” JJ laughed as they finally stopped in front of Y/N’s desk. Y/N looked down at her desk and was greeted with an explosion of red, white, pink, and green. The roses were as deep and as red as the blush blooming across Y/N’s cheeks. The roses were surrounded with sprigs of eucalyptus leaves, dusky anemone flowers, and pure white amaryllis petals.

“Oh,” Y/N gushed brightly, forcing herself not to look up at the office at the top of the stairs.

“Open the card! Open the card! Open the card!” Garcia chanted repeatedly.

“You mean you haven’t already read it?” Y/N teased, taking the envelope from the Prentis.

“We couldn’t. The envelope is sealed.” Prentis rolled her eyes.

Y/N lifted from the envelope a beautiful small card with a photograph of a warm sunset. With nervous shaking hands, she opened the card and read the typed words.

“Read it! Read it! Read it!” Penelope sang again. Y/N chuckled before clearing her throat.

“Roses for romance. Anemone for anticipation of what is to come. Amaryllis for your splendid beauty. All encased in eucalyptus to protect you and your strength. Stay safe. – you know who. xxx” The women all cooed, Penelope waving her hands excitedly.

“Okay spill! Who is this guy?” JJ begged. Y/N laughed and shook her head.

“Nope! I’m not jinxing it.” Y/N smirked, gently smelling the roses. "It's still pretty new." She lifted and moved the vase to the side of her desk, giving herself access to her computer.

“Please! Please!” they continued to beg. Y/N continued to ignore them, shaking her head and logging on to her computer. After a few minutes of ignoring them, they finally grew tired and walked away.

Giggling to herself, Y/N heard another ping of technology. The email alert rang happily in her ears.

From: a_hotchner

To: Y/N/_Y/L/N

Subject: Wellbeing Meeting Request.

Message: Good Morning, Agent Y/L/N. I will be scheduling annual well-being meetings this week in line with the new FBI approach to support their agents in the field. Please confirm your attendance to the below meeting schedule.

Today at 2:30 pm.

The seconds after pressing ‘confirm’ ticked by longer and slower than Y/N had ever experienced. Y/N tried to busy her mind with filling in paperwork and fighting off the imposing questions about her secret admirer. The excitement for her 2:30 meeting was growing until Prentis left Hotch’s office reassuring everyone that the wellbeing meetings were just casual chats – nothing to worry about. So maybe Aaron’s e-mail wasn’t an excuse to get her alone in his office for a quick flutter of romance. The seconds weren’t as painful now Y/N wasn’t sitting in anticipation. But still, the sweet scent of petals and the light pink brightening up her desk was a pleasant lift to the usual anti-climax of the BAU after a big case. Eventually, a ping came from her computer, warning her that she had a meeting in 10 minutes. Y/N got to her feet and quickly made her way to the kitchen, mixing two cups of coffee before heading to Aaron’s office. She knocked on the door slowly, making sure not to spill the contents of the mugs in her hands.

“Come in,” she pushed open the door, using her foot to close it behind her.

“Agent Hotchner,” Y/N greeted casually and set their mugs on his desk. “Coffee, cream, one sugar.”

“Thank you,” he smiled putting his pen down. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Well…” Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out the card that came with her flowers earlier in the day. “For your splendid beauty. All encased in eucalyptus to protect you and your strength…” her fingertips playfully tapped the card, her eyebrows waggling smugly.

“Who sent you that?” Y/N's smile dropped. Hotch met her eyes emotionlessly for a few seconds before breaking out into a cheeky smile.

“You suck!” Y/N chuckled, pretending to throw the card at him.

“I’m sorry.” He chuckled, getting up from his seat and walking around the table to meet her. He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her close and taking advantage of the closed door and blinds. Y/N batted his chest with her palm playfully before placing her arms around his neck. “Did you like the flowers?”

“I loved them.” She beamed, pressing her lips to his firmly. She hummed happily and melted further into his embrace. “A bit risky though! You know everyone’s been hounding me about my new secret admirer all morning.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That I had so many potential suitors I just couldn’t be sure.” Hotch reached down and squeezed the skin below Y/N’s left butt cheek, making her squeak and jump. “Okay, now I’m sorry.”

“I reckon we’re even now.” He pressed another kiss to her lips and pulled her closer. “You ready for our wellbeing check-in meeting?”

“Oh, you were serious about that? I thought this was just an excuse for a steamy make-out session in your office.” Her hands began wandering up and down his back, stroking and caressing his shoulder muscles.

“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, lulling his head into her neck. “But if we don’t get the paperwork done Strauss will be on my back for months.”

“Okay,” Y/N sighed, running her hands through his hair, matching his frustrated tone. “But afterward... we can have a steamy make-out session on your desk?” Aaron laughed, lifting his head and kissing her tenderly again.

“Deal.”

Notes: Okay, I’ve got to ask my American friends. The whole cream in the coffee thing. What’s wrong with milk? Surely the cream makes it too sweet and is bad for your cholesterol? Just a thought from your British writing pal :)

#Aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x y/n #aaron hotch fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #reader insert #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fic #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #Aaron Hotchner oneshot

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 months

Text

Conflicted: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: It’s hard convincing people what you can see without the physical proof to back it up. You immediately know who the unsub is, but you have to wait for everyone to catch up to you. How can you make them see what you see?

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

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it." - Terry Pratchett

"Agent Y/N?" You look up to see another mailman walk over to you with a letter in his hands. "This came for you."

You grab the letter and notice the date on which it was sent.

"This was mailed two weeks ago and you're just now giving it to me?"

"We're really backed up."

He walks away just as Spencer comes back from the break room with coffee in his hands.

"What is that?" You open the letter and see it's an invitation to your other high school reunion that's happening this weekend. "Are you going to go?"

"After what happened last time? Yeah, right," you scoff and put the letter into your purse.

"The probability of that happening again is very slim. You should go see your classmates."

"Spencer, baby, I don't know how to get it in your thick head, but these people mean nothing to me. Why should I give them the time of day when they didn't care about me?"

"I'll go with you again."

You can't resist the look in his eyes. All he wants is for you to heal from that part of your life and move on. He figures if you can confront those people, you'll be at peace with your past.

"Fine. If we have the opportunity to, then we will."

"Okay," he smiles.

"You're going to be the death of me."

"I love you, too."

You two head to the briefing room to join everyone else while JJ gets ready to present the case.

"Daniel Keller, a junior at Benjamin Franklin University, was killed last night while spring breaking in South Padre Island by asphyxiation. He was the second victim to be murdered there in the past three nights. The first was William Browder, also on spring break, by asphyxiation. They were both sexually assaulted prior to death."

"Men being raped and murdered on spring break? Well, that's a twist," Emily comments.

"So far the deaths have been localized to The Hudson Street hotel. Initially, the hotel was filled to capacity but lost twenty percent occupancy overnight."

"We should get a list of everyone who works there. There's a good chance one of them is the unsub, or at the very least, has interacted with him."

"Yeah, Garcia's already on that," JJ says. "Both victims were discovered by hotel staff after an online checkout indicated the room had been vacated."

"So, he wanted the bodies discovered sooner rather than later. Look at the way they're posed—naked and cowering in the fetal position. He's sending a message. Something about this is important to him. We just need to figure out what."

"We need to do it soon," Hotch says. "The police suspect the unsub could be another vacationing student, though I'm not willing to rule out local involvement."

"That makes sense. If the killer is a student, they could be halfway across the country by the time we're onto them. If he's a local, we could lose him as soon as his victim pool dries up. Either way, we're almost out of time. South Padre spring break season ends this weekend."

The conversation continues when everyone is on the plane so you can get to Texas as soon as possible.

"The national media has picked up on the story. We're gonna have to make a statement when we land," JJ says and settles into her chair. "I want to make people aware without obviously causing panic, you know, the whole buddy system. I'm all over it. I just don't think anyone is going to listen to that."

"Why do you say that?"

"Come on, drunk college students don't exactly want to hear that they shouldn't talk to strangers."

It's like Penelope knew she was going to need to give some input because her face immediately pops up on the computer screen.

"Was there any DNA left on the scene?"

"Yeah. Too much DNA. This portion of the Garcia show will be brought to you by the letter "I" for icky. The lab has recovered over a hundred different trace samples as multiple guests create a cesspool of DNA. Also, there is no way to determine the exact time of 'secretion' or to eliminate anyone actually working at the hotel."

"Were you able to find any connection between the first two victims?"

"No. They grew up in different states and went to colleges on opposite coasts. I did the whole cross-reference credit card thing and couldn't make it connect. That hotel is the only denominator. It should be noted that the first victim, William Browder, wasn't exactly a registered guest."

"That's a popular thing to do. Young people do it all the time. When they rent a room, they try to pack in as many people as they can to save money. We could be dealing with hundreds of unregistered guests. We need to check every guest whether they were in the books or not."

"Men raping men. Are we pursuing our unsub or victims could be gay?" JJ asks.

"That's not necessarily true. In male rape, sexual preference typically has less to do with the crime than the power and dominance the attacker feels from the act itself," Spencer explains.

"Still, it's a question we should ask the families when we interview them. It could help us determine how the unsub met the victims. We got a lot of work to do. Emily, JJ, and I will go to the local PD and start victimology. The rest of you, to the hotel."

You, Spencer, Derek, and Rossi head to the Hudson Street Hotel. A young woman greets you with a smile already knowing who you are and why you're here.

"You must be the FBI," she greets.

"I'm David Rossi. These are agents Morgan, Reid, and Y/N."

"I'm Julie Riley. I'm the manager. I was on duty when the latest body was discovered."

"Did you happen to notice anyone out of the ordinary?"

"I'm afraid not. I see so many faces during spring break that they all start to blur."

"We need to set up interviews with the rest of your staff as soon as possible and also talk to the hotel guests. How many cameras do you have on the property?"

"Not enough. We have all the main entrances and the garage covered, but the hallways and the service tunnels aren't equipped."

"Can you show us the room where the last body was found?"

Julie leads you to the third floor where the crime took place. You don't even have to step foot in the room to know what kind of person did this. When you walk in, you see the unsub standing by the bed and the victim lying on the bed. Energies have a funny way of making such vivid pictures for you. The victim is scared for his life but the unsub is just standing there looking at you. All you can see is long brown hair and striking green eyes.

the unsub and the victim, there is red energy stemming from the unsub. Another energy of the same kind flows out from the side of the main one, signaling that there are two personalities for this one person. There is someone inside the unsub's head, so you're not sure which one of them committed the crime.

The same thing happened with Tobias Hankel since he had two personalities in his head. This unsub definitely has Dissociative Identity Disorder or DID.

"Um, I'll start rounding up the rest of the staff for you to talk to," Julie says.

She leaves and you walk further into the room closer to the unsub who can't take his eyes off you. It's making you feel very unsettled.

"There are no signs of struggle reported. Everything seemed normal when housekeeping arrived."

"Look at this," Spencer says and points to the end of the bed on the wooden post. "There are scratch marks on the footboard. The victims were bound before the struggle began."

"That would make sense. Both victims were in pretty good shape. He probably needed them tied up in order to control them."

As Derek and Spencer are talking, you see the victim struggle on the bed while his hands are tied to the end of the bed frame. He has a lot of fear in his eyes, telling you that this wasn't consensual.

"The question is, was it consensual or was it coerced?" Rossi asks.

"It was forced," you say. "I see them. The victim looks scared out of his mind. The other thing I notice is the unsub. He's standing right next to you." Rossi takes two steps to his right to put some distance between him and the ghost you see. "Remember what I told you about people with Dissociative Identity Disorder? How the personalities inside the person's head have their own energies that stem from the base energy of the actual person?" When all three men nod, you continue. "That's what's happening here. The unsub has one personality in his head because there is only one energy stemming from the original one. He's suffering and my bet is he doesn't know why. He might not know he has another personality."

"Good work," Rossi nods. While it doesn't help you narrow down the list of suspects, it does help with the profile when you give it. "So, if I'm the unsub and it wasn't consensual, how does this work? You'd have to have a weapon. A gun to the face means he doesn't scream out."

"Look at the distance between where each of the arms was tied," Spencer says about the foot of the bed. "There's no way he could have tied that other hand himself. The unsub did it for him, which would be risky because if he knew he was in danger and he saw the opportunity, he would take it."

"Why not drug him then tie him up? He'd eliminate the risk."

"The tox screen came back negative, so it's either consensual or he has a partner."

"I don't know about a partner because I only see one energy, but it's very possible he could have a partner. He's being smart about this, though. He hides the body in the closet which indicates the guest has checked out. When the housekeeper gets here, everything looks normal, and she starts cleaning and wiping everything down, erasing any fingerprints or DNA which could have been left on the scene."

"We need to talk to whoever cleaned this room. Maybe they saw something that can tell us who was in here with the victim."

According to Julie, Adam Jackson was the last person to clean the room. He's usually on the roof when he takes his breaks, so you, Derek, and Spencer head to the roof while Rossi stays and talks to the other staff members. The sun is bright and high in the air, and you raise your hand to block it from your eyes. Adam is on the other end of the roof by himself smoking something.

He turns and you freeze in your steps. Derek and Spencer keep walking toward him, not having seen you stop. There is red energy stemming from Adam as every person has, but there is a different color red coming from his body as if that is another personality stuck inside his head. The same two energies you saw in the hotel room.

Adam killed that man last night but since you have no proof, you keep your mouth shut. Still, those are the same striking green eyes you saw in the hotel room. You jog to catch up to Spencer and Derek who have just reached Adam. He quickly puts out the blunt he's smoking and blows the air away from them in a panic.

"Adam Jackson? Your manager said we could find you up here."

"I get migraines," he stutters.

"You're the one who discovered the body last night?"

"Yeah."

"Had you ever seen him before or noticed anyone he may have been with?"

"I've never seen him before in my life. Since I opened the closet, I can't get him out of my head."

"Adam, what about the first victim, William Browder? Have you ever seen him before?"

"I've never seen either of them."

"Let me ask you this, is there anything you remember about the room before you discovered the body? It might not seem like much but the smallest detail could really help us a lot," Spencer says.

"It looked pretty normal. I mean, until I opened the closet door."

"Did anything stand out about the body? Or anyone at the hotel last night?"

"No," he sighs. "If you've seen one drunk frat guy, you've seen them all."

"I thought you said you didn't recognize him," you say.

"I don't. The university is right across the bridge. I know their type. They walk around like they know the place. They think they can do whatever they want."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Six months."

"I appreciate your time. Thank you."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods.

"You've seen bad stuff, right?"

"I have, yeah."

"How long before you can close your eyes without it being there?"

"I'm afraid I still don't know."

You three leave Adam's side, and only until you're away from his prying ears, do you tell them what you saw the second you looked into Adam's eyes.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #series rewrite #cm season 4

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