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

confused-pyramid · 3 months

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Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

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

word count: 10.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a no-brainer.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wheels up in 30."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hold your fire!"

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want kids, don't you?

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

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

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

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

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

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

"What's so interesting about that?"

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

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

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

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

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

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

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

"About 12 hours."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

And some people grow up to catch them."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're a great father, Aaron."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Burnt."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I told her the truth."

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

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

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

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

"Do what?"

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

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

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just know."

***

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

"Sean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

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

"Sean, listen to me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when the phone rings.

***

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

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

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

"Yet."

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

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

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

"No-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

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

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

"Prettier, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You start running.

839 notes · View notes

jqhotchner · 1 month

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six

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“everything okay?”

“yeah, it is! back up buddy!”

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

“i wasn’t asking you.”

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

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

“thank you!”

aaron hums. “yeah, any time.”

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

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

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

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

“you look oddly familiar. have we met?”

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

she laughs. “you don’t recognize me?”

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

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

“you can call me aaron.”

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

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

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

“i understand. traveling a lot, yeah?”

“mhm. you travel?”

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

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

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

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

aaron smirks.

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

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

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

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

aaron chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

they were perfect. his perfect little star.

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

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marksbear · 1 year

Note

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

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

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

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

SPENCER REID X UNSUB MALE READER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

THE END

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

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

Text

two little pink lines — spencer reid

request: Hello, I love your writing! I have a request - a story where spencer and the reader both work at BAU and reader finds out she’s pregnant. Spencer initially is unhappy about it (angst maybe a fight go with whatever feels right!) but when the reader is captured by the unsub he realizes that he actually loves their baby and wants to raise their little family with fluffy ending? summary: when reader finds out they’re about to start a family, spencer does not give the reaction she expects. pairing: spencer reid x pregnant!fem!reader category: angst with happy ending content warnings: discussions of being pregnant, reader kidnapped by unsub, reader restrained using rope word count: 2.2k

summer of fics masterlist masterlist want to join my taglist?

Life doesn’t go the way we plan, not all the time. That doesn’t always mean the deviation is a negative one, though. Sometimes people don’t know what they want until the choice is right there in front of them, and someday they wonder how they could have ever imagined a different life. Spencer would be the first to tell you that—lauding his decision to join the FBI despite growing up always wanting to be a professor.

You wondered what Spencer would say now if he could see the little white stick carrying lines that changed your entire world.

You tried to ignore it for weeks. Maybe it was a false positive, or maybe Spencer would figure it out on his own and you’d never have to tell him. But as time moved on and you began having to get clothing just a little bigger to accommodate the growth you knew it was time to be honest.

Unfortunately, it happened on a case, the moment you felt right telling him.

“Have you told him?” JJ asked when the two of you had gotten back to your shared hotel room after the first night on the case. There hadn’t been many breakthroughs so you were able to leave the station early, giving all of you some semblance of a good night’s rest.

“What? Who?” you asked in return, turning away to start unpacking your go-bag when you saw the look on the other woman’s face.

“Spencer,” JJ explained. “Come on, Y/N, I recognize the signs.”

It should have been terrifying. You’d been desperately trying to hide it, trying not to let anyone know that this miracle was happening when neither of you had planned for it. And yet, the moment those words left JJ’s lips, a surge of pure relief rolled through your body. Your shoulders relaxed maybe for the first time since taking the pregnancy test.

“I know I need to tell him,” you answered, re-folding the clothes that had gotten haphazardly thrown into your bag the last time you’d washed them. “But it’s not like we meant for this to happen. I don’t know how he’ll take it.”

“Will and I didn’t plan for Henry.” You knew that of course, you did when your boyfriend was the godfather to the little boy. That didn’t stop you from feeling like it was somehow different for the two of you, because Spencer was the guy who planned for everything and you seemed to always have a plan in case of emergency. “You’ve seen how Spencer acts with Henry, he’s so good with him.”

“Yeah, but being good with kids doesn’t mean he wants one of his own, especially now,” you sighed, continuing to fold clothes if only to keep your hands from instinctively pulling on your hair. “Hell, we haven’t even talked about marriage or anything yet.”

“Now’s the perfect time to.” JJ offered but thankfully didn’t say anything else about the topic until the two of you were ready for bed. “It’s better to tell him now than panic him later when it’s too late for him to think through the situation. You know Spencer better than anyone else.”

That you did. Which was why you woke up earlier than normal the next day if only to beat everyone else to the station. That is, everyone except your darling boyfriend who liked to have a bit of time alone early in the morning to really dive into the evidence and think things through.

You brought him coffee, for the first time holding onto a juice for yourself and pretending the smell of his coffee didn’t make you jealous. “Good morning, Spencer,” you greeted, thankful your voice didn’t shake to giveaway the nerves kickstarting your entire fight-or-flight response.

You didn’t have to tell him anything. You could tell him but say he doesn’t have to worry about it even when you had no idea how you were going to handle this alone. You could do anything, and yet all you seemed to be capable of at that moment was standing there, hand still slightly outstretched from handing over the coffee cup.

“Are you okay?”

You’d planned a thousand different ways to tell him. There were cutesie things with fun props and silly witty jokes that only he would find funny, even one idea that involved the entire team.

Instead, all you had the strength to do now was say, “Spencer, I’m pregnant.”

If a human being could buffer, then you witnessed it in that moment. Spencer stared at you, unblinking, lips parted and hand quivering so badly you thought for sure the coffee cup held within it would be lost to the shitty carpet under your feet. He grew pale, impossibly pale, and then all of a sudden seemed to reboot with an answer.

“How?” Spencer demanded, beginning to look less shocked and more panicked.

“Well, when two people love each other very much—”

“I know how sex works, Y/N,” Spencer snapped, hands in his hair as he fought to gain control over the situation unfolding around him. “I mean how could you be pregnant? I thought we were careful.”

“I thought we were too,” you answered, trying to keep your voice as gentle as possible if only to keep the local officers on the other side of the conference room wall from thinking anything bad was happening within. “But I took three tests a few weeks ago and all of them came back positive.”

“A few weeks ago? Why didn’t you tell me then?” That was a fair question. It was one that made your cheeks grow warm as you were called out, questioned.

“I wanted to,” you tried to explain, “but I was shocked too. I needed time to figure out what I was going to do before I told you.”

“We can’t have a kid right now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, a hand immediately flying to your stomach as if to protect the life there from hearing those words. “I know it’s not what we planned, but I know my parents would help babysit when we’re working and w—”

“Y/N, what makes you think I want a baby right now? We work a dangerous job, we’re never home, I can’t do this!”

“Then what do you want me to do? It’s not like I made this happen on purpose!”

“I don’t know, Y/N, maybe you should’ve figured that out before you told me since you spent so many weeks supposedly doing that.” This wasn’t like Spencer. You’d never seen him get this genuinely angry, this upset. Deep down, you knew a lot of it was from the absolute panic of the situation but still, you couldn’t unhear him telling you that, essentially, this was your problem and he didn’t want to have any part of the figuring it out stage.

“Fine, I’ll figure it out on my own,” you snapped, shouldering your bag from its temporary spot on the table and making a quick exit before the rest of the team knew you were even there. Through the tears rapidly forming in your eyes, you were able to send Hotch a quick text letting him know you felt sick and were going to stay in the hotel for the morning to see if it would get better.

You felt your phone buzz against your leg with his reply, but you didn’t have the energy to read it. Instead, you spent time exploring the little town you were stuck in until the case was over.

Most of your cases occurred in small towns, where most people knew their community and could never imagine anyone within it could commit such atrocities against their own. These towns were often the most dangerous to live in, because every wolf wore sheep’s clothing even when they were being questioned by one of the BAU team members trained to see through the disguise.

You were so lost in thought about how terribly the announcement had gone with Spencer, that you missed the man casually walking behind you. It was just some guy from the small town in the middle of nowhere Nebraska, but unknown to you until the very moment he caught up with you that unassuming man was the unsub you’d traveled here to find.

No one ever told you how exhausting being captured was. You’d woken up around mid-day tied to a chair and ever since the man had you, that was where you’d been. Your shoulders began to ache from the awkward stretch of them behind you, and your legs were antsy as they grew far more aware of the fact that you hadn’t been able to move them in a while.

By the next day, you were sure the waiting would be the worst part.

There was no way to tell what the unsub wanted from you, or why. Were you another victim meant to fall to his cruel hands, or did he take you because he knew you were a part of the team sent to catch him?

Either way, with all the time left for you to think, your mind found plenty of new and old regrets to dredge up. Most present in your mind was the fight with Spencer and how horribly your admission had gone. Maybe you should have told him sooner, and given him time to process the information as JJ had suggested. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him while you were on a case, where tensions were running high already.

There were too many ‘what-ifs’, and so little time to fix any of them.

“Drop your weapon!”

The yell came too suddenly, causing you to yelp and jump in your seat as best as you could given the rope tethering you to it. The sound came from upstairs, a familiar shout that could only come from one Emily Prentiss when one of her own was threatened. Sounds of a clear arrest assaulted your ears next until the basement door finally opened, flooding light in and revealing a shadowy figure with curly hair standing at the top of the stairs.

“Spencer,” you called out, voice raspy from the hours without water. You’d tried to call out, to test the sound-proofing capabilities of the room but it hadn’t worked.

“Y/N,” Spencer practically gasped as though he’d gone this time without you also missing any chance at air. “Are you hurt? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Spencer was on you within a second, long fingers working nervously on the knots keeping your hands locked behind you.

“You know when I imagined me being tied up in a room with you, this isn’t how I thought it would go,” you tried to joke, your tone falling flat amidst the adrenaline drop at the knowledge of rapidly approaching safety. Your body had been trying to keep you alive and alert for well over twenty-four hours, it would make anyone exhausted even without a second life to think about.

“Y/N,” Spencer half-heartedly chastised, audibly sighing with relief as the rope around your wrists finally fell away. He took only a moment to rub life back into them, thumbs ghosting over the rope burn before he moved back around to your front to work on your ankles. “You scared me. I thought...I thought I’d lose the two of you.”

The two of you.

Spencer was scared of losing not just you, but the little baby you’d screamed over the day before. “You were scared for both of us?”

“I’ve always wanted children, Y/N, I just...couldn’t imagine how realistic it would be given my career choice. I needed time to process it, then you were gone and I thought...” There were no words needed to explain the thoughts, the images, that must have run through Spencer’s mind while you were taken.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” you told him, hands rushing to push back his hair from his face the second they’d stopped trembling.

“We’re okay,” you thought to add a second later, trying to keep your hands on him because you knew the second the paramedics came down the stairs you’d be separated. “We’re okay.”

“It’s going to be difficult. I still don’t know how we’re going to handle it but I do know that we can figure it out together,” Spencer spoke hurriedly, practically in one rushed breath. “I can’t wait to start a family together.”

“I can’t wait for that either,” you spoke like a promise, keeping Spencer’s hand tucked between yours and your stomach until the paramedics asked him to step back, wondering how the case could have started so badly but ended with such a breathtaking moment.

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 @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels

ONESHOT TAGLIST @natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa

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

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deceasedream69 · 1 year

Text

Bomb

This imagine takes place in 7x3

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

W: mentions of bombs and mental illness

_______________________________________________________-

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

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

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

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

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

-"there are treatments but not really a cure"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I closed my eyes.

-"what are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

- "a dead police officer inside Quantico was found"

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

We were screwed.

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

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

- "Luke?", Rossi asked.

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

- "what do you mean by that?"

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

Morgan and JJ instantly got their guns out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- "please let them go, honey"

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

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

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

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

- "please, daddy, close your eyes"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I sniffed.

- "I was... Scared"

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

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

The end :)

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

Text

A Dangerous Game Ch 13

Emily Prentiss x readear Warnings: language, alcohol, smut, daddy!prentiss, very light talk of canon type of violence/situations. I'm really not sure if i like this chapter, part of why it took so long was because i was just not feelin the smut, so that's why the smut is limited. sorrryyyy. next ch will be better! promise!

“Hello?” Emily’s voice rang through your car speaker and you almost instantly relaxed.

“Hey.” You couldn’t help but smile, “I happen to be in your neck of the woods and was thinking about picking up dessert if you’re interested?”

“Sounds like your date went really well.” She half teased, a smile taking over her cheeks as she glanced to her watch, not doubting that you’d left dinner early.

“Ugh, update you later. Are you home? I’ll swing by.”

“Uh…” She suddenly rocked back to reality, glancing back to the pile of dirt on her floor, “you know, Serg is being a real asshole tonight, he just peed all over the bed, can we do your place?”

“Yeah, course. Give me like, half hour? I’ll pick up some wine too.”

“Sounds great.”

“K, I’ll see ya in a bit.”

“Bye.”

The line clicked as you hung up the phone and Emily let out a puff of breath, chewing her lip into her mouth as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do about the bug. If she destroyed it, whoever planted it would know that she’d found it, right now she had the high ground, she’d just have to filter herself to a point while in her apartment, she could handle that. She grabbed a coffee mug she rarely used, scooping up most of the dirt and the bug, placing it back on the shelf it had previously been on before cleaning up the broken ceramic.

Figuring she’d likely spend the rest of the weekend at your place she headed to the bedroom to pack up whatever she might need, Sergio let out a very annoyed meow over being trapped in the room and she rolled her eyes when he darted past her. She made sure that he had more than enough food and water, gave him a little scratch behind the ear, warning him to be good while she was gone and headed out the door.

She couldn’t help but be distracted on the drive over, her mind attempting to replay everything since the party at Rossi’s. For the briefest moment her mind jumped to worst case scenario that this had all been a set up from the start and that you knew exactly who she was the night you’d met at the bar but she managed to squash that down with the reminder that whatever was on the bug would incriminate you as well. Not to mention it wouldn’t make any sense for you to have bugged her apartment, you were basically the only one that was ever there. Penelope had been over for coffee and Sergio snuggles one weekend, but aside from that it was just you, which, very unfortunately, meant there was a whole lot of sex that someone was listening in on. She shuddered at the thought, thankful at least that the bug had been in the living room and not the bedroom.

Letting out a breath, she pulled onto the freeway and her mind drifted from who planted it to what she should do about it. She recognized the style, it was a relatively popular type of bug but one that was readily available both online and in stores, it would be useless to try and track the person down that way. She considered looping in Penelope but that would mean moving it… and that Penelope would very likely be privy to what was recorded and she certainly wasn’t ready for that. No, that wasn’t the route to go, she had to figure out a list of suspects who had the motive and means to want to track her and go from there, questioning and eliminating until she found the guy. Stopped at a red light she let out a groan, running her hand over her face, despite most of the BAU’s unsubs either getting killed on crime scenes or being sentenced to life in prison, there were the few who got shorter sentences. She was going to have to go through every case and double cross with any recent releases.

This was going to be one hell of a fucking headache.

When you pulled open the front door Emily absolutely lost every coherent thought in her brain.

“Holy shit you look fucking hot.” Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh, your cheeks heating with the way her gaze dragged up your body. You hadn’t changed yet, still in a deep blue fitted wrap dress that showed off just enough leg and a respectable amount of cleavage. Your hair was styled in loose curls, more makeup and jewelry than you’d normally wear to work to finish it all off.

“Thank you.” You chuckled, letting her in and swinging the door shut behind her.

“This is date night you? Because fuck take out, I’m actually going to take you out next week Jesus Christ.”

“Em…” You laughed again, warmth blooming through your whole body.

“I mean it. Wow.”

“You gonna come in or are you just gonna stare?” You asked with a laugh, swatting at her arm before turning up the stairs, more than well aware that she was definitely staring at your ass as she followed you onto the main floor.

There was a candle burning on your coffee table next to a pile of paperwork, aromas of lilac wafting through the space, a fuzzy blanket strewn across the couch, a book open but upturned on top of it. Her eyes swept through the space and she smiled, god did she ever love just how comfortable your place was. It always had this overwhelming sense of calm and welcoming, somewhere she couldn’t help but relax and feel at peace. When she turned back to the kitchen you’d poured her out a glass of wine, sliding it toward her before picking up a pizza pop you’d been hallway through when she knocked on the door.

“I thought you picked up dessert?”

“I did.” You mumbled, swallowing the bite down, “this is dinner.”

“You didn’t even make it to the main course!?” She nearly laughed, “the date was that much of a dud? Jeeze I thought Morgan of all people would have better judgement.”

“I mean… it was fine? There was potential, she was cute but…” you trailed off, wondering if you should just drop the bomb right off the start until you huffed, “bland. She was bland, and she ordered for me.”

“Eck.”

“Terrible taste in wine too.”

“This leftovers?” She asked, pointing to the take out container on the counter and you nodded. Curiosity got the better of her and she popped the container open, “is this a crab cake?”

“Yup.” You grimaced.

“You hate crab, specifically in cake form!”

“Exactly!” You let out a frustrated groan, “and you know that because you— know me.” You rolled your eyes, “and that’s not even the worst of it, she paired it with a cab sauv!”

“Okay what person in their right mind doesn’t at least google wine pairings if they’re trying to impress?” She laughed, “you pair crab with chardonnay!”

“Thank you!” Picking up your wine glass you took a hefty swig, shaking your head at yourself, “I don’t even know why I went, it was stupid. I would’ve much rather just been with you.” Your free hand finally found hers, gently tugging her toward you and her arms instinctually found their home on your waist while yours loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“Well at the very least it got you in this dress.” Emily smirked and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss her and the moment your lips met it was as if both of you melted into each other’s arms. The kiss was slow, genuine, soft as lips moved with grace. You pulled away only a fraction, happy grins on both your cheeks,

“You really like the dress hey?”

“I do.” She nodded, stealing another kiss.

“Guarantee you’ll like what’s under it better.” You teased and Emily pulled back a bit further, raising a brow.

“If you put on fancy lingerie for another woman I just might have to punish you…”

“Sounds like someone might be a little jealous?” Smirking, you raised a brow and she let out an offended scoff.

“Absolutely not.” She stuttered suddenly under your gaze, “okay, okay. Yeah… I was jealous tonight; I didn’t like the idea of you being out with someone else.”

“Well you’ve got nothing to worry about.” You kissed her softly, then shrugged, “and I forgot to do laundry before California, it’s like fourth tier under the dress.” Emily barked a laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at the way it reached her eyes, the way her nose scrunched up before she stole a smiling kiss from you.

“As long as it means I get you, I’ll take fourth tier any day angel.”

“You spoil me.” Your lips brushed against hers as you spoke and only a second later she was kissing you again. Her hands began to roam your body, cupping your tits through your dress, squeezing softly earning a quiet moan from you before her fingers pinched at your nipples. Your hands sunk lower on her body, squeezing her ass in retaliation, tugging her closer to you. Her teeth sunk into your lower lip, tugging it away from you before letting it release, her eyes dark as she looked down at you.

“I’m gonna remind you exactly why you don’t need to be going on stupid little dates, alright princess?”

“Yes daddy.” You nodded, a wicked grin on your cheeks.

“Good girl.” She pinched at your chin before her lips returned to yours, this time her tongue quickly sliding into your mouth, groaning over the taste that was so sweetly you. Her hands tickled up your thighs, slipping under your dress before they tugged down your panties, urging you to kick them off your legs.

One hand remained under your dress, simply palming at your cunt until you were rocking into her hand in a steady rhythm. She broke the kiss to glance down at you, watching with a happy smile as your eyes fluttered shut, your skin breaking out in goosebumps, fire peaking right under it. Emily kissed across your jaw, teeth scraping the column of your neck, pulling whimpers and moans from you as she did so. Finally her fingers slid through your folds and you shivered, letting out a little whimper right before she captured your lips in a kiss again. Her lips moved in time with her hand, trailing through your wetness, smearing your juices around your pussy before one finger slipped in and you broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Oh god…”

“That’s it angel.”

She cooed, her finger pumping slowly inside you, crooking just enough to hit the spot you wanted it most. A second one slid in alongside it and you moaned, your walls stretching and fluttering around her fingers. Your hand clenched at her shoulder and she picked up the speed, fingers thrusting deeper with each stroke, curling every second pump. As always, she had you exactly where you wanted within minutes, knowing how to read you perfectly, knowing just what you wanted and how. The heel of her hand brushed against your clit and your body shuddered, legs nearly giving out and she chuckled.

“Let’s get you to the couch.” She murmured, nipping at your earlobe as she pulled her fingers from you and you whined.

In the three feet between the kitchen island and the couch she skillfully managed to rid you of your dress and bra, letting you collapse onto the couch completely bare while your hands tugged at her clothes until she was down to her panties. Her fingers were still slick with your juices, hand coming to tilt your head up toward her while she stood beside the couch,

“Get daddy’s fingers nice and wet.”

In a flash your lips had wrapped around them, sucking them clean from your juices, tongue swirling around her digits while she pumped them in and out of your mouth. Continuing to suck on them your tongue eagerly lapped against her skin and when she pulled them from your mouth they were slick with spit.

“That’s my good girl.” She praised, hand returning to between your legs and easily sliding into your pussy. You fell back onto the couch, letting out a breathy sigh as Emily settled between your legs, fingers fucking into you once again.

“Oh god.. Oh fuck!” You whined, hands scrambling for her body, aching to feel her on you. To not tease you too much, she leant forward, holding herself up over your body while continuing to finger you. Her lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into her mouth and you moaned, hips rocking up to her fingers while your hand tangled into her hair. She bit down before her tongue soothed other the same spot while her fingers picked up the speed.

Your skin burned, pleasure shooting through you, tingling down to your toes as your body trembled underneath hers. Emily smirked against your tit, feeling the way your pussy was fluttering around her fingers, shivering each time she brushed against your g-spot. Her mouth latched onto the other side of your chest, her free hand pinching at the side she’d left, nipple hardening in the cool air of the room.

“Fuck… fuck!” You cried out, “gonna come…”

“That’s the point angel.” She teased before her teeth sunk into the curve of your breast in an attempt to leave you with a mark, one that would let anyone else know that you were taken, that you were hers.

Your back arched off the couch, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as her fingers pressed into your g-spot harder and longer than before, hips shuddering up towards her before stilling, your peak rocking through you. Emily smiled softly against your skin, her fingers slowing, gently fucking your through your orgasm while continuing to suck at your chest.

“Christ…” you swore quietly, your chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath and Emily chuckled, sitting up to steal a kiss.

“I’m far from done princess.” With a wicked grin she sunk to her knees between your legs, leaving little kisses and bites on your inner thighs while they trembled under her touch.

True to her word, she brought you to your peak another two times, once with just her mouth and once using both her mouth and her fingers, eagerly lapping up your juices as they dripped down your thighs.

You’d completely forgot about your date by the time she was done, wrapping you in her arms so you could finally relax and catch your breath, tossing the blanket over both of you. She was on her back, resting against the arm on the couch, hand gently stroking at your head that was placed on her chest while the two of you got lost in what had been playing on the television. You yawned quietly, almost nuzzling deeper into her chest and she chuckled softly.

“Are you gonna stay?” You asked and she nodded.

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Gave Serg enough food for a couple of days.”

“What about your sheets?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed and she glanced down at you, though you were still just watching tv.

“If you leave cat pee all weekend you’re never going to get the smell out.”

“Oh!” She felt her heart jump into her throat as reality came crashing down around her, remembering why she had ended up at your place in the first place and her lie she’d used to cover it up, “I left them soaking, they’ll be fine.”

“Mmkay.” You replied, sitting up, “should we get upstairs?” You asked and she raised an eyebrow, sitting up as well. “I do believe I was promised a cock too?”

She chuckled, her brain shifting once again as she leant in to kiss you, just fiery enough to leave both of you aching for more. “You were practically begging to stop an hour ago.”

“You said I looked cute when I begged.”

“You do.”

“If I have to beg for daddy’s cock I will.”

“Oh princess.” Her hand stroked down the side of your cheek, pinching at your chin, “you’ve been good, there’s no need to beg.”

With a small laugh, you kissed her again before slipping off the couch and wrapping your dress back around you. If you were going upstairs you at least had to toss the leftovers and the untouched dessert into the fridge. Emily followed suit, tossing her shirt back on so she wasn’t completely topless, folding the blanket over the back of the couch and blowing out the candle on the coffee table. Her eyes glanced over the case file next to it and she frowned.

“You’re not obsessing over Dewald, are you?”

“Hmm?” You asked, turning back to her as you crossed the room and she gestured to the file, “Oh, no.” You laughed, “bout an hour before you got here sheriff from Beaufort called. They’d found a car abandoned just across the South Carolina border with no tags or plates a couple of months ago, no one thought anything about it til they saw the Federal bolo and realized it was the same make and model. He only scratched off half the bin number so now we know he made it out of Florida.”

“Mmm.” She replied, turning back to the case file she was nearly tempted to flip through it, see what other details you might have noted that she’d forgotten about. An uncaught unsub from recently definitely would be high up on the list, at least this was one you were monitoring, “hey… thanks for keeping up on this case, I know you’ve already got enough on your plate.”

“Meh.” You shrugged, your hand smoothing a piece of her hair back behind her ear, “feels weird to let it go, ya know? Being the original agent on the case and then having a run in with him twice with the BAU? It’s like the universe wants me to be the one to take him down.”

“Yeah…” She sighed softly, glancing up to you with a smile when you squeezed at her shoulder, prompting her off the couch. Her hand tangled with yours as you guided her to the stairs, you were one step up when she stalled, “aren’t you gonna set the alarm?”

“What alarm?” You turned back to her with a laugh.

“You’re seriously an FBI agent who doesn’t have a security system?”

“Yeah….”

“Seriously!?”

“I live in Alexandria… and I have a gun.” You laughed once again, “places I’ve lived without a gun… Clearwater. The door’s double locked, pinky swear. C’mon.”

“You should at least get a doorbell cam.”

“Calm down Prentiss.” You shook your head, “I only bought the place nine months ago, I’m still considering if it’s the right fit or not. I’ve got good neighbours and we’re in a nice area. C’mon.” Your head tilted, eyes glittering, “I was told I wasn’t going to have to beg….”

Emily let out a mock offended scoff, her brow raising in your direction as a wicked grin took over her lips, you certainly knew how to rollercoaster her train of thought and she definitely wasn’t complaining. Only a second later you were letting out a shriek as she was on you, chasing you up the stairs to give you exactly what you wanted.

___________________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @lavenderhoney94 @overtrred28

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #a dangerous game

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 7 months

Text

Normal: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Another lunch with your parents reveals something that’s been locked in your head, but your dad makes you confused and jumbles up the truth. It’s hard enough to focus on a case with a deranged man killing people on the road, you don’t need family drama on top of it.

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

Back at the station, as soon as Jordan knew what she wanted to say, she put together a press conference so she could get the profile out to others. It's still early in the day, so you're confident that a lot of people will watch this. You head back to the station with Spencer's lunch in hand, and he greets you with a kiss when he sees you.

"Thank you," he smiles.

Jordan is on the TV talking with the press, and everyone in the station is watching her on the news.

"We ask the public to listen very carefully to the following description. Anyone who believes they recognize this individual should call our tip line immediately. We are looking for a white, middle-aged, married father. We believe his wife is blond, approximately forty years old, resembles the victims, and drives a luxury sedan. This individual drives a blue small-model SUV and most likely lives in this area. It is also very possible this individual recently suffered a personal trauma in his life. Again, a white, middle-aged, married father. We believe his wife is blond, approximately forty years old, resembles the victims, and drives a luxury sedan."

Jordan makes sure everyone knows exactly who you're looking for, and not long after the conference is aired, there are reports of another murder. The unsub watched the press conference, and he got pissed so he went and murdered someone to get that anger out.

This time, he went off script. This wasn't a calculated plan. This was out of anger. The unsub killed two young men with multiple shots each. Everyone is gathered to watch, but the local police are doing a good job of keeping them at bay.

The energy coming from the parked car is that of two young men, but there is another floating around everywhere. It's the unsub's. He's unhinged, and his condition is getting worse by the second. This man isn't suffering from multiple personalities or anything like that, but he is suffering from a mental illness.

"Joe Karem and Timothy Calvert. DOA with no wants and no warrants. They work in the area, and detectives are notifying their families," Thea says.

"He used a sawed-off shotgun," you state. "That, coupled with close range, shot it out of the driver's side window and driving a blue SUV. It's our guy, but he went way off script. He's suffering, and it's only a matter of time before he's driving down the road and shooting everyone until he's caught."

"Something triggered him and pissed him off."

"Yeah, the press conference. It aired at two, and this happened at 2:20. He was watching the news."

"A Single witness says the shooter was driving a small blue SUV. They didn't get a plate but noticed it was a middle-aged white guy wearing a tie. His suit jacket was hanging in the back."

"If he drives the speed limit, and taking account into red lights and mid-day traffic, I'd say he came from no more than ten miles away. If he was wearing a suit with a suit jacket in the back, he was coming from work. He works in the area."

"I'm gonna call Garcia," Derek says and walks away from the group.

"You think he's gonna kill again soon, don't you?" Thea asks.

"Yes, and he's done killing surrogates."

"Did you know?" Jordan storms over to Hotch angrily.

"Excuse us." Hotch grabs her arm gently and guides her away from everyone else, but you can still hear them. "This is not the time or the place. Are you gonna do this in front of the press?"

"He killed those people because of something I said!"

"No. When we talk to the public, it's always a possibility. That is part of the job. Tell me now if you can do it or not."

"Damn right, I can do this job."

Jordan is in over her head. She thinks she can handle it but she lets her inexperience get the better of her. She was never prepared for what all JJ had to deal with since JJ couldn't teach her everything in time.

"Good. You're about to give another press conference."

Since the press was already at the scene, it wasn't hard to gather everyone. Jordan, with some help from Hotch, had everything she needed to say to them. You're standing off to the side watching her and studying her behavior.

"We are prepared to release to the public additional information about the individual responsible for the freeway shooting. The individual is a white, forty-five to fifty-five-year-old male of average build. He works in this area. He wears a suit and tie to work, and left work very abruptly shortly after two immediately after watching our earlier statement about him. If anyone has any additional information, please call our anonymous tip line. Thank you." She turns to leave but pauses and turns to the camera again. "One last thing. This individual has committed horrible crimes and must be held to account, but he is a husband and a father. He's violent and troubled, but he must be capable of some degree of mercy and compassion. So, we appeal to him... Do not hurt any more people. Please turn yourself in."

This happened so recently that no one could forget if their coworkers suddenly left without an excuse. Someone called the tip line about their coworker, so you, Derek, and Spencer headed over to the place where the call originated to talk to the caller in person. Jack's a worker at a local office building, and his coworker fits the description Jordan gave perfectly.

"That's funny, when I heard the description in the first press conference, I thought of Norman. I just thought it couldn't be, you know? He's so quiet."

"What does Norman do?"

"He's in charge of the company's travel expenses. This is his desk."

Jack escorts you to Norman's desk, and all of his red angry energy is left behind.

"Does he have access to the company cars?"

"Yeah, the whole fleet."

"What about the first press conference made you think of Norman?" you ask.

"The woman mentioned something about him suffering a tragedy. His daughter died in a car accident. She was run over after she ran out into the street."

"How long ago was this?"

"Six months. I really should have done more to help him." A woman brings Jack a file on Norman. "This is Norman's personnel file."

You take it and file through it until you get to his personal information such as his address.

"Is this address current?"

"It should be."

"Why are there two files?"

"We cross-reference married couples. Norman's wife Vanessa works here, too."

"We need to speak with her."

"She's not here. She just got a promotion, so she took a couple of weeks off."

Your phone rings, and you pick up when you see Hotch calling. Derek is already texting Emily the address since she's with Hotch and Rossi.

"Y/N, we have a high-speed chase at 117th and Pacific. It sounds like our guy."

"Alright, we're closer to that, so we're on our way now."

"Prentiss got the address from Morgan, so we're headed to his house. If he's having a break, he could be on his way there to finish it. We're on our way. Be careful."

"Got it." You hang up. "We need to go." The three of you take off back to the car with you and Derek in the front and Spencer. Norman's anger swirls out of the building which only you can see. "Go straight and make a right at the light up ahead. I can see his energy."

Derek makes a sharp right, and you have to grab onto the handlebar that's attached to the ceiling. Derek is driving fast to catch up to the car chase, and none of you are wearing any seatbelts. With his crazy driving, it's hard for everyone to stay in their seats, causing Spencer to panic. Derek is making sharp turns and weaving in and out of traffic, and you shake your head.

"Spencer, baby, I love you to pieces but you need to calm down. The more you panic, the more I panic, and if we're both panicking, then Derek panics and he can't panic while driving."

"Sorry. Sorry," Spencer chuckles nervously.

"We're just going to put our seatbelts on." You're the only one who does so, and that takes flying out the window off your chest. "Take a left at the next light."

Derek does so, but not a lot of people are seeing a big police SUV barreling their way. You close your eyes tightly because if you don't see it, then it's not really there. Derek makes it through the light without any injury to anyone, and you open your eyes to peek at what's going on.

The police are chatting over the radio, and you can hear someone shooting at them. It sounds like a shotgun, and you can only imagine it's Norman shooting.

"Repeat, shots fired! On the chase now," an officer says.

"He's losing it. Reid, does it look like the chase could be headed to his house?"

Spencer has the map of the area in the backseat. You can tell Derek which direction Norman is going, but Spencer can tell him where he's heading to.

"Uh, yeah, I think so. It almost looks like he's starting to go in a wide circle toward that direction."

"All units, pursuit now headed over Memorial Bridge."

"We're almost there. Turn right at the next light. Memorial Bridge is around the next corner," Spencer says.

Derek approaches the intersection before the bridge, and all three of you see Norman racing in the opposite direction with three police cars behind him.

"Hold on!!" Derek slams on the brakes and does a quick U-turn to chase after everyone. "Are you okay?"

"I'll get back to you on that," you mutter.

"Reid, get on the radio and tell them we're in the chase," Derek says and steps on the gas pedal.

"This is the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit," Spencer says over the radio. "We caught up to the chase and are now monitoring. We ask if you're able to stop the vehicle, you allow us to take the lead in contacting the driver. We believe him to be a severely deranged suspect."

"Copy."

Derek turns the corner and slams on the brakes when he sees the situation unfold. Norman swerves to the left and crashes into the concrete median. His car flips over and lands on the roof, shattering the windshield into pieces. Derek is the first out of the car and Spencer is the second. You take a moment to gather yourself before unbuckling your seat belt. You open the door and step out, and that's when the entire world slows down around you.

Derek yells at the officers not to shoot, but no noise is coming out of his mouth. Norman crawls out of the car in slow motion but you're not looking at him. You can see Norman's family in the car, but they're not moving to get out at all. All three of them (his wife and two kids) look at you before glitching out of existence.

They were never in the car with him even though he thought they were. They're dead and he may not even know it.

The entire world speeds up and returns back to normal, and you raise your gun at Norman like everyone else is doing.

"Norman! Don't move!"

"What are you doing? What are you doing? My family's inside!"

"Stop and listen to me! Listen to me! Nobody is in that car. Your family's gone, Norman."

"No, they're in there."

Norman's pain is great enough for you to feel it from where you're standing, and the tears start to well in your eyes.

"They're gone, Norman! Look inside. Look in the car. They were never there. It's over. They were never with you."

"No, but they were," he says heartbreakingly.

"Your family's gone, Norman."

Norman looks in the car and sees it's empty, and that's when he breaks down crying.

"Oh, god, what did I do? Oh, what did I do to my family? My family! I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Derek puts his gun away and manages to handcuff Norman, and you lower your gun just as the tears fall from your eyes.

"It's over, Norman. We're gonna get you some help."

You see this kind of thing all the time, but Jordan usually doesn't. She thought she could do this job, but after seeing Norman's family dead in their beds from where he shot them, she decided that this isn't the job for her. The entire ride back home was draining, but as soon as you stepped foot into the BAU, you felt relief.

"Hey, do you guys ever notice how the trip home always seems to go so much faster?" Emily asks.

"That's because the tailwinds are in our favor," Spencer answers.

You look up and see someone standing in the briefing room, and a wide smile breaks out on your face when you recognize her blonde hair.

"JJ's here."

You set your things down and rush over to the briefing room where she's standing by the table holding her son. You gasp happily when you see your Godson in her arms.

"What are you doing here?" Spencer smiles.

"Hello, handsome boy," you grin and gently grab his fist.

"Garcia said you guys were on your way back tonight. I thought you could use a surprise."

"I thought I gave you strict orders to get this place out of your head for a while," Hotch says.

"My bad. I couldn't help myself," Penelope says when she enters with a bottle of milk in her hands. "Here. I heated it up."

"JJ," Derek says and makes his way to the front. "May I?"

"Of course."

JJ hands her son over to Derek who supports his head. He's grinning from ear to ear, and you notice Hotch is even cracking a smile at this.

"Look at that. He smiles," you tease him.

"I just realized with all that we do and see in this room, it never smiles. I wanted at least one good memory to hold on to."

"This is the best memory you could have given us," you grin and hug her.

"There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were." - President Dwight Eisenhower

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weirdmorefics · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could you do a Derek Morgan! Daughter reader (maybe 5/6) where reader has a speech ampendament and one day Derek is on a case late so reader has to stay in day care longer and the unsub (let’s say he goes after people who suffer from speech problems because he also suffered from them) gets reader

Being Late Is Never Good

x Daughter!Reader

A/N- Fun Fact I use to have a speech impediment from talking around a pacifier until I was five.

Warnings- Kidnapping, drowning

Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 862

Summary- The reader waits for her Dad to pick her up from preschool like usual but he is late, leading to a series of bad events.

Tic Tok... Tic Tok... Tic Tok

Ugh, Dad is never this late he at least has Auntie Pen pick me up if he can’t come. I groan loudly and slump on the bench by the principal's office. My groan catches the attention of a teacher I’ve never seen.

“Why so blue?” he frowns.

“My Dad i-is is late, a-and I have spee-speech doc-doctor today.” I close my eyes tight trying to focus on my words so I stutter less but it is always worse with strangers.

“Let me check in with the principal and see if your Dad has called?” The teacher smiles.

I wait and kick my feet out of boredom but the teacher doesn’t take long at all.

“Your Dad said he couldn’t make it and that he is on a case but I came up with a solution. I can just drive you home,” He says excitedly.

“Umm, my Dad said I can’t go w-with strangers,” I respond fiddling with my hands.

He bends down to my height and holds out his hand “My name is Mr. Smith and I am a substitute teacher. See now we are not strangers.”

“I guess we ar-aren't strangers now,” I nod, jump off the bench, and grab his hand.

I follow him to the car and he buckles me up in the backseat in a booster seat.

“Do you h-h-ave any kids?” I ask

He laughs very loud and it kinda creeps me out “ I would never have kids! Having kids is the cruelest thing you can do! I would never subject them to the torture of other children.”

“Um, that’s a lot of b-big w-words, Mister,” I say getting more nervous by the second.

“Don’t worry, you will never have to go through the hell I went through.” He says determinedly.

“Um, my Dad s-said you a-are not su-su-supposed to say the H word,” I mutter.

“YOUR DAD KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT PEOPLE LIKE US!” He shouts. I reach for the car door handle but the doors all lock, “Don’t worry this will all be over soon.”

Third Person POV

“Hey Baby Girl where is Y/N,” Derek asks Penelope as he walks into her office.

Garcia quickly turns around in her chair, “You’re joking right?”

Derek gets a serious look on his face, “Baby doll you know I am not.”

Garcia stands up quickly “But the school called me and told me your plane got in early so I didn’t need to get her!”

“Did you recognize their voice or even their name! Penelope, how could you be so stupid? You know the kind of job we do you know we have to double-check everything!” Derek groans running his hands over his head.

Garcia looked almost in tears “I’m sorry Derek I wasn’t thinking! I was so busy with the case report that when the teacher called I was just grateful I didn’t have to pick her up and could finish my report on time.”

“So you are saying a report is more important than Y/N!” He shouts

“That’s not what I am saying at all you are just taking your stress out on me! Now is not the time for that though we have to find Y/N!” Garcia shouts to get Derek’s attention.

“You’re right you’re right. Let’s trace the number that called you.”

Your POV

“WHERE ARE Y-Y-YOU TAKING ME!” I shout as this man drags me out of the car. I bet his real name isn’t even Mr. Smith.

“We will cleanse you in the waters and then you no longer have to be stuck in this cruel world.” He says with joy on his face.

“No! L-le-let me gooo I-I don’t wa-want to leave my my dad!” I shout trying my best to get out of his grasp.

“You’re Dad will never understand us! He will beat you until you blend in with all the other kids!” He says as he tightens his grasp on me.

“MY MY DAD W-WOULD NA-NEVER HURT ME!”

“YOU ARE JUST FOOLING YOURSELF! I AM SAVING YOU! Now close your eyes and relax.” He yells and then turns his voice into a soothing one as he plunges me into the cold water.

I tried to hold my breath as long as I could but eventually, I had to give in and I took one big last breath as I feel the water enter my lungs someone pulls me out.

I am swallowed in darkness for what feels like forever but a nagging pressure on my chest keeps dragging me out. The darkness feels so warm but I don’t want to leave my Dad. I won’t leave my Dad. My eyes shoot and I wake up choking on water. I am surrounded by my family and Uncle Hotch is trying to tear Uncle Spence off of Mr. Smith. As soon as I stop choking on the water I am pulled into the tightest hug my dad has ever given me.

“Starting tomorrow you are going to the best most secure private school.” He says with tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

I smile and hug him back “Whatever you say, Dad.”

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cloudlessly-light · 2 days

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The darkest parts of me (5/5)

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s hope so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like a bribe? But that’s illegal.”

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

“Money will get you anywhere, kid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he hands her the colorful drink she had asked for, she sits up in her chair. She clinks her glass with his, a smile on her face. “We made it.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #aaron x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction

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evilkennedy · 1 year

Text

That isn’t love.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader (non descript reader)

Warnings: implied past abuse physical and sexual, mostly fluff though, a bit hurt/comfort

Word count: 1.3k

Requested: Nope, this is pretty self indulgent (feel free to request more one shots though)

The tension inside of the SUV was near palpable. You had been anxious throughout the entirety of this case, specifically due to the methodology of the unsub, it was clear that he’d been abused as a child, most likely by his father. You knew Aaron could sense the way you felt about this particular subject, and you’d always had an inkling that he felt similarly too. You’d chosen to ride with him to the police station, not that you wouldn’t have under different circumstances, you usually chose to anyway since most of the team decided not to bite that bullet. To you, it wasn’t an issue. Not uncomfortable or stressful in the slightest, in fact, his presence usually made you feel safe. You selfishly wished he could have that effect on you now.

Your superior’s voice saying your name is the only thing that brought you out of your reverie. The ghosts of your past quiet for only a moment as you hum in response, turning in his direction to see that his eyebrows were furrowed in concern. Of course he knew you were off your game, he’s too perceptive, too good at his job. You knew that he wasn’t the only one that would have been able to recognize your unease, but you hated it nonetheless. You hated the way you softened at the sore subject and at the prospect of your boss’s concern— your friend’s concern.

“You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?” The way he says it makes your chest ache. Of course you’d known that objectively and you’ve had multiple insightful conversations with the man. It’s what you enjoyed most about being in his presence. Still, the way he’d known you, saw right through you as though he’d only been looking at a mirror, it halts the frantic beating of your heart and the breath in your chest. You unclench your fists, wondering how much you’d be willing to get off of your chest at this very moment. If you’d known Aaron less than you have, you would’ve brushed it off without a second thought, but the way that he looked at you– the way that you knew he was genuinely concerned, it was so hard to ignore those pretty, melancholic eyes. You knew that there was no pity on his face and maybe that is what urges you to speak.

“I know that.” He nods, thinking that that might have been the end of it. He was worried that you’d feel like he’d been overstepping, profiling you like no one on the team was supposed to do to the other. Still, he could sense your hesitation, he knew that if he’d overstepped, you would have said something, so he waited until you gained the strength in your voice to continue.

“Cases like this… I just can’t help but think about–” You shook your head, not liking that route of conversation. You didn’t want to provide unneeded details, not yet. Maybe you’d open up to him, but not on the clock, not like this.

“Did you feel like you deserved it?” You hear his intake of breath, knowing that he’d understood what you meant. You worried for a second that you’d overstepped, suddenly feeling like this conversation was a game of minesweeper. As he released the breath, though, you’d known that it would be okay. You could tell that his grip on the steering wheel tightened and then loosened as he processed what you’d said, thinking of a response that wouldn’t deeply scar either one of you.

“I did.” He pauses, wondering how much he could delve into this. The two of you had plenty of time, not arriving at your destination for another hour or more, but he wasn’t sure whether this would be helpful or detrimental for the both of you. He took a leap and hoped that it would help to ease your nerves for the rest of this trip. Maybe even his own too. He wanted you to understand that you weren’t alone. Selfishly, he’d wanted to feel less alone as well.

“More specifically, I thought I’d deserved it more than my mother or Sean.” He paused, only for a second this time, your lack of response urged him to continue as you kept your eyes trained on him. They weren’t analytical, nor were they pitying, they were just observing. You were listening to him as if he were the only person in the world that mattered to you, so he continued.

“Some part of me wanted to protect them, I knew I had to protect them. It wasn’t an act of courage or some form of self harm, I just knew that I could take it. I could handle it more than I could handle the pain of seeing them on the brunt end of his anger.” He released a breath he hadn’t known that he’d been holding, keeping his eyes on the road despite the fact that he could feel your eyes on him.

You reach out without a word, placing your hand on his thigh. Nothing about the touch was lustful or inappropriate, maybe the way you felt had been inappropriate, especially due to the fact that Aaron was most definitely your superior, but he didn't say anything nor did he move your hand. He hated how comforting it was to have the warmth of your hand on his clothed thigh, the gentle touch was grounding and represented so much more than a relationship between two concerned coworkers, but he pushed the feeling away in favor of listening to your response.

“I felt the same… It wasn’t my mother since my parents divorced really early on, but it was my step siblings. They were younger and smaller and he… he couldn’t hit them. They weren’t his to bully.” Your throat closes for a second, a lump lodged there keeps you from continuing easily. You feel Aaron’s larger hand cover yours over his thigh, thumb gently swaying back and forth over your knuckles to remind you that he was there and listening. You knew that you didn’t have to say more than you were comfortable with and this made the lump dislodge itself as you prepared to speak again, feeling more stable with the man’s touch tethering you back to the present.

“I took it all. I could handle it, the punches, the choking, hell even watching me shower–” You grimace, as does Aaron, but he lets you finish. He was beyond disgusted, especially knowing that your father was still alive and still making an attempt to control your life even as an adult. He’d had his deductions, but he really didn’t like being right in this case. He hated it, knowing what you’d had to go through, even just the smallest extent of it. If he could, he was certain he’d kill your father given the opportunity, but he doesn’t speak that aloud.

“It’s hard not to think you deserved it when it’s engraved into your very being, the core of who you are being tainted by the fact that your parents didn’t love you in the way that they should–” You shake your head, hating the way that your voice trembled. Aaron speaks again before you have the chance to.

“You do know that that isn’t– it wasn’t love. And you sure as hell didn’t deserve it.” It goes unspoken that he thinks you deserve so much more. You always have and you always will. He could barely understand how you were so kind and understanding given everything you’d been through but he… he knew that he loved you for it.

“I know that now. I do.” It’s more of a reassurance for yourself than it is for him, but you don’t give him time to respond to that before you speak again, “It’s hard to remember that at times, especially since most of my experiences with love haven’t been the best.” This time, you look at him with purpose, “But I know now that love isn’t violent or angry or scary.”

Hotch wasn’t oblivious and he quickly put together what you were saying. He nodded before squeezing your hand, attempting not to tear up. He had to focus on the road but he’d wanted to hug you more than anything.

“I know that now too.”

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave feedback or requests for more oneshots 🫶🏼

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner x you #fluff #hurt comfort

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sinfulspencer · 2 years

Text

No time to die

Prompt: Reader reflects on her relationship with her serial killer boyfriend, ex FBI agent Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: heavy angst, Unsub!Spencer, Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, hint of religious themes (metaphor of the baptism, nothing too crazy), dirty talking, verbal degradation, praise kink, implied oral sex, implied unprotected sex, implied consensual somnophilia, gaslighting, toxic relationship.

Words: 13.1k

A.N.: I couldn’t stop thinking about Unsub!Spencer as I listened to No Time To Die, so I decided to write something. I’ve always dreamed about writing Unsub!Spencer and even if I did, with The Daisy and The Bee, I felt like something was missing.

This is the missing piece.

Also this is completely different from anything I’ve ever written. Even though this story is not sexually detailed, it still has sexual innuendos and implied sexual intercourse – so minors, stay the fuck away from here. Thank you.

And no, there will be NO PART 2.

Check my masterlist here.

JOIN MY TAGLIST!

Send your requests here.

The moment I walked inside the living room, the metallic stench of blood filled my nostrils.

I was used to the smell of lavender or vanilla lingering in the air because of the candles we bought. This was a change that scared me, that made no sense in my mind as I stared at the blood stains on the floor.

Bloody footprints led to the bedroom where the door was left open as the air I breathed into my lungs thickened, making my eyes tear up in fear.

My right hand reached the holster where I kept my gun and my fingers twisted it out, tightening my grip on the body of my weapon as hard as I could. Releasing the tension on the metallic object in my hand, I walked in the hallway while holding my breath – in hope that whoever was in that room, didn’t have the intention of hurting me.

I brought the other hand on the gun as I took my last step towards the room, stepping in. I pointed the gun at the man crouching beside my bed and I gasped.

“Put your hands up. Right now.”

Those familiar curls, those broad shoulders. I could’ve recognized them everywhere.

Spencer raised his hands, still crouching by the side of the bed. His palms were covered in blood and I could see both his sleeves stained with the same red liquid.

“Spencer... What happened?”

I dropped the gun on the bed as I rushed to his side, worried that he might’ve hurt himself while waiting for me at home. Even though my heart tried to think about every not-so-horrible thing that could’ve happened, my brain knew that this was not normal.

Spencer Reid has never had blood on his hands.

I kneeled beside him and gently held his hands, meeting his eyes after so long.

But the cold blank stare he gave me and the way his fingers dug into the skin of my own hands made me shudder, as if I had been thrown in a pile of icy snow in the middle of nowhere.

That person wasn’t my Spencer.

I pulled away before he could say something, retracting inside the bedroom in fear of my own boyfriend.

“Spencer...”

He stood up, stretching his arms and watching the blood dripping from my own hands. The same hands that touched a man that didn’t belong to me, a man that I wasn’t sure I wanted to be near, a man that I knew wasn’t the same.

The words died in my mouth when Spencer took a step closer to me.

His shirt was drenched in blood, the stench was getting overwhelming as my whole body shuddered again at the sight. My brain was hazy and I couldn’t open my mouth to form a coherent sentence, too shocked and too terrified to even try.

I didn’t know what was happening, and I was scared of whatever could’ve happened later.

“You shouldn’t have been home.”

I knew that, but I finished every single one of my tasks. I did everything in order to get back home earlier to spend the evening with my boyfriend, who stayed at home because he was sick. Spencer told me he was sick, he had a fever when I woke up so he didn’t come in to work.

Did he lie?

“What happened? Why do you have blood on your hands?”

Spencer looked at me, but I could feel his eyes burning into my skin. He didn’t need to say anything, the slight smirk slowly creeping upon his lips was self-explanatory as my hands made their way down to his chest.

The comforting warmth of his skin has been washed away by the stickiness of the red liquid squirted all over his shirt, adhering to his body. I didn’t want to look him in the eyes, I didn’t want to meet that cold gaze that has been engulfing me ever since I stepped inside the bedroom.

“Do you really want to know?”

My heart was beating so loudly in my chest while the words didn’t want to come out of my mouth. They were wrapped around my tongue, they were choking me from the insides as I found myself shaking my head.

The answer was obvious, it was right in front of me and yet I couldn’t bring myself to believe the truth of it.

Did I want to know what Spencer has been up to? Did I want to know what kind of person Spencer turned into? Did I want to take a ride inside of his mind to really understand what’s going on? Did I want to know why there was blood all over my carpet?

“Can you help me clean up?”

Spencer didn’t wait for my answer as he took a step back, pushing his shirt off his chest. Drops of dried blood are covering his pale skin, staining it with poisoning thoughts caused by the previous activities – actions that I don’t want to think about.

Actions that I studied for so long, that I tried my best to prevent.

In front of me, there was everything I studied for all my life. Traces of a life that was taken by the same man that looked me in the eyes every single night and made love to me on the bed beside me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear as he took control over me. Control that I allowed to slip through my fingers, because feeling helpless made my mind float in the best way possible.

In that moment, though, my mind was floating through an abyss of atrocities, terror and disgust.

My heart was trying to overcome it, to silence my brain with all of its strength and it did. It should’ve failed miserably as I stood there, watching my lover get closer to me and touch me, but it succeeded. And the love I felt for him, a love that ran deep through each vein in my body, blinded me all over again.

I should’ve pulled away. I shouldn’t have enjoyed the warmth of his fingers all over my skin and his lips brushing above mine, but sometimes my heart yells louder than my brain and my feelings get the best of me. Not that I cared at that moment, I was so lost in the way his lips completed mine that I almost forgot the blood on his hands.

Almost.

Because as soon as his hands lunged forward to touch my face, I took a step back.

With a heavy heart, I shook my head and looked away from him. If I hadn’t, I would’ve let Spencer get away with it. How could I let him do this to me after what I caught him doing? How could I look him in the eyes and still see my precious boyfriend, and not someone who I have never met?

How could I know he was still my Spencer?

“You’re still covered in blood.” – I whispered, brushing the back of my hand on my lips – “Can you take a shower? Please?”

Spencer noticed how my eyes fidgeted from my nightstand to his face. He probably felt how scared and confused I was to have such a sight in front of me, but he didn’t seem to care. He knew that I was still wrapped around his little finger, he knew that I couldn’t have run away even if he begged me to.

Spencer knew I belonged to him, and nobody else.

“How about you wash it off me, doll?”

I did.

I tried to delete every trace of blood on every inch of his body as the water washed him clean. I hoped the water would also wash away all of those poisoning thoughts that ran through his mind, that the cold water would turn him into the man I’ve always known and loved.

Water provides life, it’s a symbol of it.

It cleans you from everything you want, or it attempts to. I wanted to cleanse Spencer from everything that has been going through his mind, I wanted the water to wash him clean and transform him again into the man that everybody knew and loved. I wanted that warm water to wash away his sins, to purify him.

I didn’t want his dirty hands on me, I couldn’t bear the thought of him touching another person and doing his worst to them – and then having the same hands, the same fingers, on my skin. I didn’t want to be stained, I didn’t want to be poisoned but I knew it was bound to happen.

I wanted Spencer to be the man I’ve always loved – with an innocent heart, that sweet smile on his lips and his hands always on my face when he kissed me.

Spencer sat in the bathtub with his eyes closed, keeping his bloody hands on the edge of the tub as I poured the water on his curls. They stuck to his forehead and pearls of water adorned those long, beautiful eyelashes.

He seemed so peaceful, he seemed so calm when not too long before he had rage, vengeance burning behind his eyes and through his bloodstream.

Was the water already changing him? Was it me that made him come back to his usual self?

I didn’t know, I didn’t care because I realised that his side didn’t go away. It was still there, silent and subtle, bubbling under the surface and ready to jump out at the slightest mistake. A mistake I wasn’t even aware of doing.

“You can’t even look at me.”

His words captured my attention as I poured water on him again. “I can. I just...”

Spencer finished my sentence. “You don’t want to look at me.”

Could he blame me for my choice of not looking at him? Did he really think I would’ve been happy to see him in such conditions? Did he think I would’ve been begging to join him after catching him in the act of hiding something?

I kept quiet, placing my right hand on his shoulder and the left one on the edge of the tub – it was far away from the bloody stains of his fingers. I didn’t want blood on me, I didn’t want the warmth of it to remind me that the man who did it was my lover.

My lover.

“Is the thought of me touching another girl upsetting you?”

A girl. He hurt a woman.

I stayed on my knees and pulled away from him, with drops of water dripping on my thighs. I hated how cocky he sounded, how arrogant he was with that smirk on his lips and those bright eyes belittling me each second that passed.

I couldn’t believe he’d do something like this, I couldn’t believe he would think I’d be okay with everything.

“Is that why you can’t look at me, doll? Because I touched another woman the same way you want to be touched right now?”

Shaking my head, I looked away. “Please, stop.”

My begging didn’t go unnoticed, but Spencer ignored it. “Why? Is jealousy eating you from the insides? Are you thinking about me touching another woman’s body, kissing every inch of her as I do with you every single night?”

I didn’t know what to say or what to think, because every thought caught fire in my brain. It felt like my heart had been chewed on and spitted out right in front of me, while the tears stung in my eyes and threatened to fall down my cheeks.

I didn’t want to cry, I didn’t want Spencer to think I was weak.

We’ve dealt with people like him all the time, we talked them down and we arrested them. But everything was different in that moment, because I wasn’t talking down a stranger from a drastic choice. I wasn’t trying to help a stranger to survive his urges.

No, I was dealing with the love of my life.

“Please, Spencer.” – I uttered, my voice broken by my own heart cracking – “Please, stop.”

With all the strength in my body, I managed to turn my head and meet his eyes again.

Those amber coloured eyes I admired every night before falling asleep.

Those amber coloured eyes I looked into while he made love to me.

Those amber coloured eyes that were my solace on my worst days.

“Does the thought of my hands..”

Spencer lifted his bloody hands, gently cradling my face as I closed my eyes.

“Wrapped around another small, delicate throat...”

I didn’t want him to touch me, but the warmth of his fingers coddled me. I was doomed and I knew it, because in that moment I couldn’t do anything but lean forward, allowing him once again to own me, to show me that I belong to him – and always will.

His fingers brushed over my cheeks, but then his hands ended up on my throat and the oxygen decreased as he squeezed my neck.

“Make you jealous?”

I shot my eyes open again, silently begging him not to hurt me. I didn’t know if he would do it, I didn’t know if he was willing to show me that dark side I was so scared to face even though it was right in front of me. I didn’t know if he wanted to get rid of me after I caught him.

I hoped he still loved me, even if that cold heartless stare didn’t break.

“Spencer..”

When I moved backwards, Spencer stood up from the bath and looked at me. Water rushed down his beautiful body, now cleaned from all the blood mixing with the rest of the water. I couldn’t talk as I stared at him with widened eyes and my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t know what he was going to do.

So I took another step back when Spencer came forward.

“The thing is, doll..” – Spencer said, placing his right hand over my throat again – “You’re the only one I plan on pleasuring when I choke.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat as the relief washed over me. He was indirectly telling me he never touched those women for sexual pleasure, which was reassuring – somehow. I couldn’t handle the idea of Spencer touching someone else, someone different than me, in the same way he used to do every single night in our shared bed. I didn’t want those hands crafted by God caressing someone else’s skin.

“I don’t want your blood to be all over me, I want theirs.” – Spencer added, taking another step forward as I hit the door of the bathroom shut – “I want them to choke on my anger. You, on something else.”

His eyes ordered me to do everything he didn’t with words.

I dropped on my knees right in front of him with my gaze on his face, taking in the beauty of my lover as he cradled my cheeks with his hands. The gentle sweep of his thumbs over my cheeks made me close my eyes, resting against him as I tried to slow the loud beating of my heart.

There was no need to talk at that moment, I already knew what Spencer wanted from me and I was willing to give him everything. He decided to show me his darkest side and I had to thank him somehow. I had to be thankful he didn’t kill me – I had to be thankful he proved to me he loved me beyond limits.

And I loved him even more, because I was willing to close my eyes and pretend like none of what happened mattered – but it did. In that moment, I was just too stupid to realise how things were going to be messed up from that point on.

But I didn’t care, as I welcomed him in my mouth and proved my love for him with my tongue. I was the only person who could do this to him, who could spend the rest of the night with him in his arms. Spencer was in love with me and I felt bad for doubting his feelings for that split second, so I made sure to beg for his forgiveness on my knees.

Spencer ran his fingers through my hair and pulled me against him without letting me breathe, forcing me to take all of him inside my mouth as I choked on my own greed for him – exactly in the way he wanted me to. I didn’t complain as I kept my eyes closed, focused on what I had to do with my mouth and my tongue.

“Just like that, doll. Show me how good you are with your mouth.”

I struggled to open my eyes, feeling warm tears streaming down my cheeks. Spencer grunted at the sight in front of him of me, on my knees, with my mouth full of him and the tears ruining my makeup. They were not tears of anger, they were tears of pleasure as it broke through me piece by piece. Spencer knew that.

“You like having my cock down your pretty throat, don’t you doll?” – Spencer asked through soft moans, pulling my hair – “You like knowing you’re the only one who can do this to me, don’t you? So protective over me, so jealous of those other women that thought they could touch me.”

I was protective over Spencer, but not for the reason he thought about. I didn’t want him to sleep with other people because our love for each other ran too deep for us to find someone else to rely on. I was meant to be his, just like he was meant to be mine – and only mine to control.

So I did.

I controlled Spencer with my tongue, showing him how eager I was to please him and how I was willing to let him do anything he wanted to me. After all, I made a promise to be with him through thick and thin. And that moment was thick, but I didn’t care.

Spencer unleashed the dark desire within him as he pulled me even closer to him, listening to my gagging sounds as I choked again. The desperate movements of his hips made me lose my mind as I made sure to remind him that I was worthy of his time, his love, everything. Spencer was in control, but he let it slip through his fingers for a brief second as I managed to take it into my own hands.

“Your mouth feels so good, doll.” – Spencer whimpered, grasping my hair and pulling me back – “You’re going to make me come down your pretty throat, aren’t you?”

I nodded with my eyes settled on his face, licking my bottom lip before I opened my mouth again. I was eager to get him to the finish line, I wanted Spencer to give me everything he didn’t give to all of those other women. Women that probably dreamed of doing this to him, to be in my position on their knees for him but they could never – I was his one and only.

It didn’t take long for Spencer to let go of himself, allowing me to taste the desire he felt for me and the bitter love that was wrapped around the both of us. A love that was starting to choke us, to disrupt everything we had built through the years together – but we didn’t care, we wanted to live in the moment and forget about the chaos of our lives.

Because everything changed, we just weren’t aware of that.

Lost in his own bliss and blinded by the love he felt for me, Spencer grabbed me by the arms and kissed me with everything he had. With force, with anger, with love, with desire, with pain, with sadness, with vengeance – I could feel every emotion on his lips, on his tongue.

I didn’t even notice his hands slipping inside my trousers, I didn’t even notice when his naked body pressed to mine as we became one. I was too busy kissing his mouth, showing him that I belonged to him and that I was going to keep quiet for the sake of our relationship. I needed Spencer to trust me and he did, showing me his love for me in the only way he knew how.

His name echoed through the bathroom walls as he made sure to mark me from the insides. I did it as well, covering his neck with bite marks and his neck with scratches. I wanted to paint his skin with my marks the same way his hands were painted with someone else’s blood.

I wanted Spencer to think of me each time he looked at his own reflection in the mirror. I wanted him to remember all the things that I did to him that night, I wanted him to know that his body belonged to me and there was no one like me for him.

I was his soulmate and I was planning on staying by his side forever.

I didn’t think it was going to turn into the biggest lie I’ve ever told.

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment I realised that everyone around me knew, but it hit me all at once. And with such a strong force that left me completely breathless, knocked me to my knees and made me want to rip out my heart from my chest.

What hurt the most wasn’t the fact that they all knew.

No, it was that they all knew before me.

Jennifer and Emily didn’t say a word as I stood on the doorstep of the conference room, staring at my colleagues with my lips sealed tight. Nobody noticed me until someone spoke the name of my boyfriend out loud, so loud it made my stomach churn.

I wasn’t supposed to be in the office today because I took a few days off after a particularly hard case, but I decided to go over to look at some files and take them home. It wasn’t unusual for me to do that - everyone in the team did it, but none of the team had any connection to a serial killer that lurked in the shadows of the city, leaving a trace of bodies behind him.

None of them slept in the same bed as a serial killer. None of them made love to a serial killer who whispered how much he loved me in my ear. None of them had a serial killer cuddling them on the couch, caressing their hair and laughing at a joke coming from the TV.

None of them were in love with a serial killer.

Maybe that’s why they didn’t say anything, because they knew I was going to be destroyed by the thought of Spencer possibly hurting someone.

Destroyed wasn’t even the beginning of it.

Knowing that your boyfriend goes out twice a week to have a drink with his friends is one thing, but knowing he goes out to get revenge on someone is a whole different story. A creepy, horrible story that you’d never want to hear - not even in your wildest nightmare.

Never in my life I thought I’d end up with a serial killer. I studied them for years, I worked with them and against them, until Spencer came along and changed everything. My perspective on them, my perspective on him, but my feelings remained.

There were days where I thought how life was fair because my relationship was perfect from the outside: me and Spencer were a pair, so in love with each other and caught up in our own love bubble that we forgot about the world outside.

But life has always been far away from fair, and I learned that in the most difficult way possible.

I had two choices: come forward to the police and rat my boyfriend out, risking my life, or stay silent and pretend like I didn’t hear him twice a week coming home and going straight to the bathroom. Unfortunately that metallic scent didn’t leave the air until Spencer had snuggled up on the bed, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck to lull me back to sleep.

We had a silent agreement.

When he would return from his activities, he had to take a shower.

That ritual took a turn when Spencer started to come home, shower and get in bed with me to make love. So each time he touched me, kissed me and controlled me with his body, it always meant the same thing.

I killed someone. They deserved it.

I always kept quiet and welcomed him between my legs, allowing Spencer to show me how much he loved me and how he was trying to make the world a better place for the both of us.

However, I didn’t need his protection.

I needed Spencer to be my boyfriend, my partner. I didn’t want him to become a serial killer, I didn’t want him to risk his own life for his own goals. I didn’t want him to risk getting caught because of his own greed - but I never dared to open my mouth, terrified that I would lose him.

Losing Spencer meant losing myself, or so I thought.

I was already losing pieces of myself and my broken heart. It wasn’t difficult to notice, because I didn’t linger in the office for too long. I didn’t hang out with my colleagues as much, but they always blamed it on the fact that my boyfriend quit the job he declared to love so much.

They thought I was sad because he wasn’t with me as long as he used to, but that wasn’t the reason.

I wasn’t happy anymore because my boyfriend was falling in love with violence, with murders, with the greed of power over another person’s life. I wasn’t happy because my boyfriend saw me as an object to protect, and not a person to love and cherish every single day - the way I saw him, I’ve always seen him.

Spencer loved me beyond limits, but it was getting difficult to share his interest with something that I couldn’t compete with. I didn’t want to share my boyfriend with his love and his obsession with blood, revenge and anger.

It was getting overwhelming.

Not just for me, but for Spencer as well.

And it started to show when all of his victims were discovered, one by one.

The whole team was working on the situation because no one could link these murders to someone in particular, but I knew they knew. They didn’t say anything to me, they worked on everything in secret while smiling at me when I was around them - but I couldn’t blame them.

They couldn’t stop me and ask me if I knew how was behind those murders. I have been trained to lie. I have been trained to hide my body language, even the smallest gesture that suggests insecurity or instability. They knew I could lie perfectly to their faces and I did, for six months.

Six very long weary months.

Six months where my heart was chipped away, piece by piece, and mend all together each night that I fell underneath Spencer’s body.

Penelope and JJ acted weirdly towards me in those six months, but I blamed it on the fact that I pulled away from them as much as I could. All of my attention was focused on my job and my boyfriend, because I needed to protect him.

Spencer wanted to protect me from the pain and the violence in the world, while I tried my best to protect him from the same people that loved him, cared about him and did everything they could to get him out of prison.

I betrayed them and most importantly, I betrayed myself.

I knew they thought about Spencer, because the victims were people that had contact with him somehow - students, survivors from his old cases, prison inmates he was with, college classmates, highschool friends.. and the list went on, and on.

Most of the victims were women, all of them had their throats slashed. They weren’t shot, they were killed with bare hands - and that scared me, because that meant Spencer was strong enough, angry enough, determined enough to put an end to someone’s life with his own hands.

The whole team went quiet when they saw me.

Jennifer turned to me and waited to see a reaction, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of it. I widened my eyes as I stared at the pictures. The more I looked at them, the more I grew unsteady and nervous.

They were all so close to catching him, so close to finding him that I didn’t know whether to stay and listen or run home, begging Spencer to leave Washington and disappear somewhere.

If I had done that, I would’ve been an accomplice.

I was already one, even though Spencer never said anything out loud. He didn’t confess to me what he did, he didn’t need to because I knew - but we never discussed his actions, therefore I knew nothing.

That was the only thing that might have saved me in court.

Maybe that’s why Spencer never opened his mouth with me. He didn’t want me to be locked up in jail, because prisons are miserable - they ruin your life, they take away your freedom and leave you completely hollow.

“I didn’t know we had a case.”

Emily spoke up. “You had some days off and were already consulting on a case. We didn’t want to add more to the pile for you, Y/N.”

I nodded my head, trying not to read too much into it. “Yes, I understand. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

I lingered inside the conference room for a few seconds, waiting for them to start talking again about the case but they didn’t. They stayed in silence and hoped I would leave as soon as I could.

Luke was the only person who looked at me without pity in his eyes. He was worried, but not in a condescending way. He wasn’t cuddling me with sweet words or loving stares, he was actually willing to open his mouth and stop me.

He didn’t, not that day at least.

“Call me if you need anything.” I said again

I stepped out of the room and closed the door behind my back, straightening my back and walking away chin upward. There was silence for a few seconds behind me, but then they started talking again and I fought the urge to go back and eavesdrop.

I couldn’t do that, I had to leave.

The more I knew about his crimes, the more nervous I grew.

And me being nervous was a dangerous sign for the team, a sign that could’ve led them to think I had something to do with the whole situation.

But I had every right to be nervous. I didn’t want Spencer to get locked up in prison, I didn’t want the team to go against one of their own, I didn’t want my life to fall apart because of someone else’s choices - no matter who this ‘someone’ was.

No matter how much I loved Spencer, I couldn’t allow him to be reckless and get caught. I needed to tell him that the team was hunting him down, that they were slowly putting the pieces all together.

If they had found the missing piece, the proof of Spencer’s actions, we would’ve been completely destroyed. And I couldn’t allow that.

When I came home from the office, Spencer was waiting for me.

Sitting on the couch with a paper in his hands, Spencer looked at me and patted the space right next to him. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, because as soon as he stopped touching the couch, I was already sitting with him.

I leaned with my head on his chest and I listened to him reading the paper to me. With my eyes closed, I allowed his voice to put me to sleep. With my eyes closed, I allowed Spencer’s lips to cover me in kisses.

I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted him to know that the team found his victims, that they knew something was going on with him, but his mouth controlled me with each kiss and forced me to forget everything.

I became a puppet in his hands, moving to his rhythm with my hands scratching his back and my lips singing his name over and over again. I focused on the moment with my eyes closed, I let him own me for as long as he wanted to and I drowned in the bittersweet feelings he felt for me.

The same feelings that were slowly being overshadowed by his own lust.

Spencer repeated those three little words over and over in my ear, holding me closer to his naked body as I arched my back to be as close as possible to him. I couldn’t stand the short distance between us. I wasn’t sure I believed his words, but my heart did and it was that mattered to me at the moment. I needed to feel his, I needed to be his to survive the heartbreak he was putting me through.

The pleasure took over me as I cried out his name, allowing my body to tell Spencer everything he needed to know.

I’m yours.

I love you.

I’d die for you.

But I should’ve known that those feelings weren’t enough for Spencer. I should’ve known that my love for him wasn’t going to be enough and that soon, Spencer wouldn’t have been the same person I fell in love with.

When Spencer reached the peak of his desire, I cradled his face with my hands and I kissed him with every ounce of desire, of love, of passion, of tenderness I had in my body.

My fingers got tangled between his curls, his lips consumed mine as he whispered my name while I took him inside of me again. I moved my hips against his while our lips stayed connected, while my heart pounded in my chest against Spencer’s.

I felt like the first night we spent together.

We were so close to one another that I didn’t know where I began and he finished, but that didn’t matter. It felt good, it felt freeing, it felt like we were one all over again - the pair we’ve always been.

I was expecting him to reject me, to push me away, but he didn’t.

Deep down, my Spencer was still there. But for how long?

Closing the window with one hand, I drew the curtains with the free one. I left it open for a few hours before Spencer came home ‘cause I couldn’t stand the smell of blood lingering in the air.

I learned to recognize that scent that drove my boyfriend insane, but drove me to the point of throwing up in the bathroom when he wasn’t near me. I didn’t know how he could love that smell, but I didn’t question him directly - I didn’t want to know how much he loved blood.

I couldn’t stand the thought of it.

When Penelope came over the night before for a coffee, I was terrified that she might’ve smelled blood somewhere inside my apartment but she didn’t. She was her usual self, smiling and laughing with me as if she hadn’t worked with the others to find the culprit behind those murders.

She was in the conference room a month ago with all the others, so she definitely knew what they all thought about. Or maybe I was too paranoid, too scared that they might link everything to my boyfriend that I was already putting them in the right direction.

It was confusing, because they didn’t say anything to me.

Even on my days off, I dropped by a few times to grab something from the office and each time I met one of my colleagues, they acted like nothing happened. They never talked about those murders again, probably to prevent me from commenting on it - and I appreciated it, but I was scared anyway.

What if a SWAT team burst into my bedroom while me and Spencer were sleeping to arrest him? What if they took him away from me before I could say goodbye?

The door closed with a loud thump behind my back, startling me.

“Fuck!”

I turned around with widened eyes, staring at Spencer not too far away from me. He was standing in front of me with his hands balled into fists, but his eyes weren’t burning with desire for me.

I was hoping he would come home with the need of making love to me, but when our eyes met, a rush of fear ran all over my back. I remembered that cold stare, it was the same one that he gave me when I caught him for the first time in our bedroom on his knees.

My arms were covered in goosebumps as I took a step back.

“You scared me, angel.”

Spencer crossed his arms to his chest. “Are you fucking Luke behind my back?”

My heart dropped down to my chest. “No.”

“You hesitated.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, shaking my head. “No, angel. I didn’t hesitate, I’m telling the truth. I’m not fucking Luke, I’m not even thinking about it.”

“Are you sure?” - Spencer asked again, clearing his throat - “Because I saw you with him this morning. You were too close to him.”

I tried to recall the moment me and Luke shared this morning, when he hugged me because he noticed something wasn’t right with me. I didn’t tell him anything about Spencer, obviously, but I didn’t reject his hug.

I didn’t pull him away because I needed a friend.

I needed a comforting hug and his arms were more than enough for me, but I never even thought about possibly making a move on him.

“We hugged, that’s all.” - I took a tentative step forward, keeping my eyes on Spencer’s face the whole time - “I promise you, angel. We never had sex.”

Spencer didn’t believe me one bit.

He knew I could put on an act without feeling guilty because I knew my own abilities, but that was so far from what I was actually doing. I have never had sex with Luke and I have never thought about it, because I was more than happy to be with Spencer.

He has alway been the love of my life and I knew that nobody else could satisfy me the way he could. Spencer was my everything, my other half, the person that made me feel complete, loved, cherished, desired, owned.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Spencer, nothing happened between me and Luke.” I told him again

Spencer shook his head, taking a step back from me. “You’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“That I found another way to satisfy my urges.” - he spoke with a coldness that wrapped around my heart - “So you had to find someone else to give you what you need, like the dirty whore you are.”

I could feel the tears stinging in my eyes, ready to fall down on my cheeks as his words stabbed me over and over.

“No, Spencer, that’s not true.” - I exclaimed, grabbing both his hands - “I don’t need anybody else, but you.”

“Then, what was he comforting you for? Is it because you’re jealous? Or upset that I’ve found another way to get off?” - Spencer urged, leaning forward with his furrowed brows - “Is it because you can’t stand the feeling of me with someone else?”

I didn’t want to listen to him anymore, I didn’t want to look him in the eyes and know that he was just trying to get a reaction out of me. Spencer knew better than to accuse me of something I’ve never done or even thought about doing. No matter how hard it was to deal with him, no matter how difficult he was, I didn’t want to be with another man.

Spencer was my life.

“I’m sorry.” - I whispered, finally placing my hand on his chest - “I’m sorry if I hurt you by going to Luke, but you have to believe me. I didn’t sleep with him, I’d never do that to you.”

Spencer looked at me with his cold pair of eyes, again. “He doesn’t need to comfort what’s mine. That’s my job, Y/N.”

I nodded my head. I was exhausted, I didn’t want to fight with him.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Spencer. I should’ve just talked with you.” - I answered, wrapping both my arms around his neck - “Can you forgive me, angel?”

His hands slid down my back, resting on my hips. He stayed quiet, holding me in his arms and pressing soft kisses on his neck before he pushed me back against the window.

The cold glass hit my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Spencer!”

He didn’t respond, he just took what was rightfully his.

Sliding his fingers through my hair, he grabbed a fistful and forced me to turn around so that my face was pressed to the window. My heart pounded in my chest as Spencer pushed my trousers down, just enough for him to admire what has been his for the past two years and a half.

A part of me was scared he was going to hurt me because of the previous fight, but the most rational part of me knew that Spencer wasn’t going to do that - he loved me, he wanted to remind me that I was his, and I had every intention of letting him.

And so he did, taking control of my body the only way he knew while kissing my neck.

Thrust after thrust, my whole body shuddered around him as his mouth pressed kisses against my neck. Purple bruises appeared on my skin as soon as his teeth left me and I whined, I panted, I moaned his name and closed my eyes to feel all of him.

“He will never have you.”

Spencer kept thrusting inside of me, running his hands up and down my thighs as he reminded me once again why I have never been able to leave him.

“He doesn’t know how to please you like I do. He doesn’t know you love to be fucked like this, in front of the window so everybody knows how much of a fucking whore you are.”

My back arched at his words as I let out a long, desperate moan for him to hear. Spencer gripped my thighs, leaving red marks all over them as he took everything he could from me: pain, pleasure.

“He doesn’t know how your mouth feels around my cock. He doesn’t know how much it turns you on when I tell you that you’re the only one I’d choke and let come all over.”

His delicate whimpers echoed inside the room, increasing the desire within me. I could feel Spencer’s pleasure coming to an end, but he didn’t seem ready to let go - he kept pushing inside of me, flicking his thumb over my clit. So I let go first, moaning his name and begging him to ruin me, to hurt me, to do anything he could.

I wanted Spencer to break me down with his words, with his body, with his hands.

I wanted him to wreck me, ruin me, make me forget that there are other people in the world I could be with - because I belong to him, because my body and my soul are his to take and always have been.

“And you know why you love all of this, doll? You know why you’re desperate to feel me coming inside of you now, as I keep my hands around your pretty throat?” he asked, settling both his hands on my neck and squeezing over my pulse point

I shook my head, feeling another spark ringing through my body. I was close again and he didn’t even need to do anything in particular.

“W-Why?”

My pathetic moans were muffled by the sound of his body pushing against him, my wetness sliding down my thighs and the grunts escaping from his lips.

“Because you’re a desperate, disgusting, little slut who can’t get enough of my cock.”

That was all it took for me to come all over again, all over him, all around him.

Spencer was able to push me over that delicious end with his words alone and he knew that, because it happened so many times - and each time it drove him crazy. He knew I was wrapped around his finger, but I knew he was wrapped around mine as well.

No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I knew I had the same strong power over him.

Spencer forced me to bend over my shaky thighs and kept his hands around my neck. He started to tighten his grip on my skin as my eyes rolled in the back of my head, while my brain was completely swallowed up in the power of his desire for me and my lust over him.

“See? You just came because I told you exactly what you are.” - Spencer dug his fingers into my skin - “You’re so fucking pathetic, doll. I can’t believe you’d do anything to get my attention. Is that what you wanted?”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, I couldn’t care less. I nodded anyway, just because I was desperate to feel him coming inside of me and put an end to my misery by giving me another orgasm. My body was exhausted, but my mind wasn’t - I knew I needed another peak of pleasure, I was seeking it.

“Too dumb to speak.” - Spencer bit my shoulder, making me whine in pain - “Oh shut the fuck up, whore. You love it.”

His left hand left my neck to reach my hair again and Spencer pulled it, watching my back arching at his will.

“This is why you’d never let another man touch you.” - Spencer dragged his tongue over the marks of my neck - “Because you belong to me. Because you are mine.”

It was true.

I belonged to him. I was his.

And with those last words, Spencer filled me with the warmth of his desire as my insides melted for him once again. My whole body shuddered around him as his arms reached out to hold me closer to him, with his back pressed to my chest and his mouth covering my neck with kisses.

“If I see you with Luke again, I will kill you.”

I thought I dreamed those words because my mind was too numb to decipher them, but they kept playing in my head over and over. My body didn’t react, I didn’t react - because there was no reason to.

Spencer was right.

I couldn’t go to Luke just because I had a fight with my boyfriend. I shouldn’t have hugged Luke, I shouldn’t have let him touch me, but in that moment it felt freeing.

I didn’t know for how long Spencer held me that way, but I couldn’t care less.

I was exhausted, I wanted him to take me to our shared bedroom but he had other plans. Like always, Spencer wasn’t done with me - but he was merciful, at least, because he brought me to bed.

Laying me down on the mattress, Spencer towered on top of me and brushed the tip of his fingers over my right cheek.

I looked up at him, silently telling him that I was too tired to move. Spencer understood, but he took my body once again. As I laid there, I watched him take every ounce of pleasure from me.

My mind was hazy and I didn’t remember most of it, but it felt good to know that Spencer was still mine. No matter his new obsession, I was still his main one and I wouldn’t have changed it for anything.

When everything ended and Spencer helped me clean myself, he came back to bed and he held me in his arms. He cuddled me to sleep as he kissed my forehead - and in that moment…

That pure, blissful moment of peace, an epiphany hit me with the force of a hurricane that left me speechless. It felt like thunder in the middle of a clear day, a moment of brightness that brought a new perspective down on me.

Spencer wasn’t just my boyfriend. He was also a murderer.

And I had to stop him.

Was I stupid to love him? Was I reckless to stay with him after catching up in the act? Was I too blind to pretend like nothing happened?

My heart ached.

I loved Spencer Reid more than anyone in my life, but I couldn’t let love blind me to that point.

“We’re almost there, Y/N.”

I stayed quiet the whole ride, with my eyes low on the ground and my heart aching to the point I wanted to rip it out of my chest. I knew I had to choose between my strong feelings for Spencer and justice, but I still felt awful for speaking up.

The moment when Spencer realised what I had done, I swore I could see and feel his heart shattering on the ground in a million little pieces. Speck of glass that ripped through me and made me bleed right in front of him.

But I did the right thing, I knew it.

Those families needed closure, I needed to stop feeling guilty each time I opened my mouth or looked at files in my office. However, feeling guilty has become my new hobby - because I was guilty for ratting Spencer out, for telling everybody what kind of monster I brought into my own house.

When the handcuffs tightened around his beautiful wrists, I thought he was going to yell at me. I was expecting him to lash out and threaten to find me, to kill me, to make sure nobody would ever remember me and my existence. But he was strangely calm, with tears streaming down his face and with those amber coloured eyes begging me to do something, to stop everything and rewind the tape.

I couldn’t.

I didn’t want to.

Before Emily and Luke took Spencer away from me, he stared at me and whispered those three little words that used to make my heart leap up. Words that he uttered when he was inside of me, when he was laughing with me, when he was showering with me, when he was getting dressed with me, when he was kissing down my body and worshipping me because I needed to be cherished.

‘I love you’ he had said, stabbing me one last time and leaving me there on the floor, bleeding for him and the love I just lost.

They were words that I wished I could hear again and again, every day of my life, without thinking they were empty calories.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Penelope’s soft voice made me turn to her as I nodded.

She led me out of the car with her arm entangled with mine. She was the only person who didn’t open her mouth while trying to comfort me. She was the only person who’d let me cry on her shoulder because I felt bad about ratting my boyfriend out.

She couldn’t understand what I was going through, but she didn’t try to. She wanted to be my friend and listen to me, comfort me through silence and a cup of green tea shared on the couch of her living room.

I appreciated Penelope for doing all of this for me, for taking me to see Spencer for the first time in over six months. She didn’t question me when I told her that I booked an appointment to meet with him, she didn’t need to - she knew I missed him and going to prison was the only thing to do.

Obviously, I would’ve had every eye pointed on me but I didn’t care.

I just needed to see Spencer and make sure he was okay.

Penelope walked with me to the room where I was supposed to meet my boyfriend and fixed my jacket, gently tapping over my chest with a smile on her lips. I knew she was happy for me and I knew she could feel how happy, but also scared, of seeing Spencer I was.

Happiness trumped fear, though.

“I’ll be here when you’re done.” - Penelope whispered, glancing at the guard behind me - “If you want me to come in, I…”

I shook my head, taking a deep breath. “No, I have to face him alone. You’ve already done more than enough for me, Pen.”

She gave me a quick pat on the shoulder and watched me turn around, staring at the closed door in front of me. A sea of thoughts run through my head, making me wonder if I should be there in the first place.

Spencer never asked to see me, I didn’t blame him. I put him in prison, I spoke about him being extremely weird in the last few months - and the team did the rest, piecing all the clues together and finally coming to a decision.

Spencer was their unsub.

I felt horrible as I spoke to all of them. I felt horrible as I laid beside him every night, but I couldn’t take his jealousy, his anger any longer. Spencer needed help and I couldn’t give it to him, it was a kind of help I wasn’t trained for.

I was reckless to think I could help him.

I was stupid to think I could fix him.

The guard pushed the door open for me, but I didn’t step in. I waited, I hesitated with my shaky hands on each side of my hips as I looked right in front of me.

Spencer had his back turned to me, the orange jumpsuit fitting him loosely.

I didn’t see his face, but I knew he was still the most beautiful man in the world. A man that didn’t belong to me anymore, a man that stopped being mine a long time ago - before he got arrested, before I put him in jail.

I wondered if he would try to kill me that day. I wondered if he knew I was going to be all shaken up at the sight of him, but Spencer always knew the power he had over me. Not just in bed, but everywhere else.

He could make me squirm with a smile.

Taking another deep breath, I entered the room and closed the door behind my back.

Spencer didn’t move, he kept his eyes on the wall in front him.

My legs felt like cement, I couldn’t move them until I heard that soft laugh. It was a low chuckle, a short moment of lucidity where I felt all of his love wrapping around me before it started to choke me, making me lose my own breath.

I knew that coming to prison was going to be difficult. I couldn’t sleep for three days before, but I knew it had to be done. I had to face Spencer, I had to apologise somehow - but was I supposed to? Did I really need to apologise for saving the list of people I knew he was going to hurt?

Did Spencer really need to hear my apologies?

A part of me thought so, because I swore on my life that I would’ve protected him until I took my last breath - but that was before I learned my lesson. Before I caught him with blood on his hands, before he threatened to kill me if he had seen me with Luke again. I couldn’t go on any further.

But I kept going, walking to the table and sitting across from Spencer.

The air in the room was thick, you could’ve cut it with a butter knife. I wasn’t surprised, I was tense and terrified to face him while Spencer seemed relaxed, as if he had been expecting me for so long.

Those eyes were still staring at me with a tenderness that I missed.

“Hi doll.”

My heart broke.

“Spencer, hi.”

“No angel this time?”

I knew he was joking, but I sensed a hint of pain in his voice. I wanted to call him angel, I wanted to call him with all the praises I could think of at that moment, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I didn’t want to let myself fall back in love with him - even if I’ve never stopped loving him.

I had to distance myself from him for a reason, Spencer knew that.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Such a shame. I missed your voice.”

I missed you was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t say it.

I thought about it and I hoped Spencer could read my mind for just a brief second, because he deserved to know the truth. If he had been able to take a walk in my mind, he would’ve known how guilty but also angry I was for this whole situation. I may have walked away from him, but the love I stored deep inside my heart has never stopped burning.

Still, the anger was slowly overshadowing everything.

Why wouldn’t he ask for help? Why did he let his bloodlust blind him? We could’ve been happy together, we could’ve had the family we’ve always wanted. We could’ve quit both our jobs and moved away, somewhere away from the pain and the trauma we’ve faced through the years.

Spencer picked a different path.

A path that fit him, but shut me out.

“Why are you here, doll?”

I placed my hands on the edge of the table, tapping the metallic surface. “I wanted to see you again.”

“You could’ve written me a letter.” Spencer scoffed, a bitterness staining each word he spoke

It was a brief moment, but I saw the hatred he bore for me. I didn’t blame him, I broke my promise to him - but I did it for a good cause, I did it because nobody deserved to lose their life over Spencer’s thirst for blood and vengeance.

“Would you have written me back?”

“Of course, doll.” - he immediately said, furrowing his brows - “I still love you. I don’t think I’ll be able to ever stop.”

His words cut deeper than any other knife, because the guilt within me won.

The first tear escaped my eyes and fell down on my shirt. Spencer followed its path with his eyes and licked his bottom lip, as a wicked smile spread over his mouth - as if he got the reaction he wanted from me, as if he knew that declaring his love for me would hurt me.

And it did, because I didn’t deserve his love.

I didn’t feel worthy of it, but I knew better than to think that: I didn’t deserve his love because it wasn’t a healthy type of love. It was more similar to an obsession, but I was too stupid to realise it. Too dumb to fall for it, for all the lies he whispered to me after I caught him, when we made love on our bed.

I shouldn’t have trusted him.

I shouldn’t have spoken up just because Spencer threatened me.

“Why are you really here?” - he taunted me again - “Do you want my forgiveness?”

It was my turn to scoff, turning my head to the side with his amber coloured eyes still burning on my skin. I didn’t want his forgiveness, I didn’t care for it - but I wanted to apologise for my behaviour. It didn’t make any sense, I was aware of it, but again, I didn’t care.

“You don’t have to say anything, doll. I know why you did what you did.” - Spencer said before I could open my mouth - “I should be the one begging for your forgiveness.”

I looked back at him, not sure if he was making fun of me. His eyes seemed so serious, but that wicked smile on his lips told me everything I needed to know - he was laughing at me, at my faulty behaviour.

At the guilt eating me from the insides every single night I had spent away from him, not laying against his chest with his lips pressed ever so gently to mine.

“You’re sick.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t love it, Y/N.”

My hands were itching, dying to land on his face and ruin that smirk. After all I did for him, why did Spencer still make fun of me? Why couldn’t he believe me, for once in his life, that I was guilty for ratting him out? Why were my words so difficult to believe, to understand?

When did I plant that seed of doubt in his mind that grew stronger as the days went by?

“I loved you, not your behaviour.”

Spencer chuckled, leaning back against the chair. “Oh, you didn’t? I have an eidetic memory, I recall every moment we’ve spent together even after you found out what I did to all those people.”

I was embarrassed.

The more he spoke and stared at me, the more I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I couldn’t believe he would say that, I couldn’t believe he would use my own sexual desire to explain my odd behaviour - not just to me, but to Penelope on the other side of the glass.

I didn’t want her to know that I knew, but… it was obvious I did.

The team just pretended they didn’t know, they didn’t notice. Maybe they were just trying to protect me, just like Spencer did when he was in court - he never said my name, he never blabbed about me knowing his actions. He never confessed them to me, but deep down in my heart there was no need to.

“How you begged me to make love to you while I was still covered in blood. How you called out my name in pleasure as I whispered to you what I wanted to do to you, right after my hands were on someone else’s.”

I slammed my hand on the table, anger booming through my body. “Stop. Shut up.”

Spencer laughed at my response, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. “Why? Is this turning you on?”

“No.” - I shot back, standing up from the table - “I knew that coming here was a mistake.”

“Then, why did you come?” - he asked, raising his brows - “If you knew how sick I was, why did you stay with me?”

How could he ask me that? It was a fair question, because I was well aware that my Spencer was changing for the worse, but I couldn’t leave him. I just couldn’t for a bunch of different reasons, but one topped all the others: my love for him ran too deep, too deep for me to escape him.

“Because I loved you, Spencer.”

“Not anymore?”

His expression changed, but not for the better.

I didn’t answer that question because I couldn’t.

Did I love him? Yes.

Did I feel stupid for loving him? Yes.

Did I regret falling in love with him? Yes.

Did I ever stop loving him? No and I didn’t think I’d ever will.

“You’re no longer my concern.”

“You stopped loving me.”

Spencer leaned forward before I could take a step back and he grabbed me by the throat, digging his fingers into my skin. The same throat he promised me to never hurt, the same throat he loved to kiss as we made love on our bed, while we were dreaming of a future together.

Everything happened too quickly for my tastes, because as soon as I tried to open my mouth, Spencer had been thrown against the wall by the two guards that jumped in.

I stumbled back with my hands where his were, and I allowed the tears to slip down once again, blaming myself for not being able to fully distance myself. No matter how sick Spencer was, my heart couldn’t look at him without crying, without feeling guilty for putting him through this.

Somehow, I felt like everything had been my fault.

Maybe if I had done something else, he wouldn’t have turned this way. Maybe if I had noticed his behaviour earlier, I could’ve prevented something. Maybe, maybe…

I didn’t know what to do, as I stood there while the guards handcuffed Spencer.

His beautiful wrists were now covered by the metallic object and my heart broke all over again.

He wasn’t trying to hurt me, he was just angry.

“We’re going to take him away. The appointment is…”

“No. No, not yet.” - I managed to say, pulling my hands away from my neck - “I’m not done with him. He’s already handcuffed, he can’t hurt me even if he wants to.”

Spencer stared at me with gritted teeth, sitting back down on the chair. I knew that the guards must’ve thought I was insane, but I didn’t want to walk away once again without reminding Spencer how he was before everything changed.

If he couldn’t bear to hear me say that I stopped loving him, then he had to stay still and keep on listening to me. Because I wasn’t done talking.

Just because he raised his hands, didn’t mean he was done.

I wasn’t.

The guards compiled without too much of a fuss, attaching the handcuffs to the table so he wouldn’t have been able to move an inch. I didn’t know if that was enough to stop him from standing up again, but I didn’t care.

I was willing to take the risk.

“Out.” - I whispered to the guards, moving my head to the door - “Please.”

They didn’t want to leave and I didn’t blame them, I didn’t want them to go either. The man I had in front of me wasn’t the Spencer Reid I loved, the Spencer Reid I caught with his hands bloody - no, this was a monster that I had pushed to grow.

I was just as responsible as any other injustice in his life to make him turn out this way, or maybe not. Ever since his behaviour deviated, I kept blaming myself over the smallest things in our life.

How we didn’t get married.

How we didn’t have a child.

How we decided to take things slow.

How we let our job pushed each other apart until one of us had to quit.

I knew that Spencer resented me because he felt like he had to make that decision, but we’ve discussed it so many times - Spencer wanted to quit, he wanted a fresh start with another job so he took that chance.

But I knew he hated the fact that I didn’t quit as well.

I didn’t want to, I loved the team and I loved my job.

“Why do you want to hurt me so bad now, Spencer?”

It was a stupid question, but I wanted to get an insight of his brain. I wanted to know what made him snap that bad, what made him break his promise of never hurting me - especially not in that way, with his hands on my throat. The same way he killed all of those women, all of those men.

Maybe I wasn’t just scared of his actions, I was also surprised.

“You put me here.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” - I told him, taking a step closer to him - “You knew that I was going to talk, you could see it in my eyes. I know you did.”

Spencer looked up at me. “You had a choice. You just didn’t want to take it.”

I knew what he was talking about.

“I’m not like you. I have never been like you.”

He scoffed, moving his eyes away from my face. “I see that now.”

My heart hurt, but I didn’t let it show.

“Why didn’t you speak up sooner?” Spencer asked

Placing both my hands on the edge of my chair, I released a soft sigh. The explanation was simple, Spencer knew it but he wanted me to say it out loud. In his own twisted way, Spencer wanted me to admit my thoughts.

My stupid, naive thoughts.

“I thought you would stop.”

Spencer smiled, but it wasn’t a sweet, gentle smile. It was a devious one.

“Ah, you thought you could change me. You thought the power of love would make me a better man. You thought you were so special to change my real nature.” - Spencer said and his smile never wore off - “You thought you could fix me. But guess what, doll.”

I dared to look him in the eyes as he leaned back against his chair, tugging the handcuffs around his wrist. The table shook under the strength of his arms, but Spencer didn’t move. He just lifted his hands so that they were touching the edge of the table, in the same way I was gripping the chair.

I hated how he mimicked my body language so well, I hated that I felt like he could read my mind like an open book. I hated that I couldn’t understand what had been running through his brain for months.

I hated everything this situation brought me.

Nothing, but despair and sadness. A deep-gut sadness that ate my heart away, piece by piece until it was replaced with a painful hollow.

“I didn’t need fixing.”

His words made me flinch. I knew they were coming and I knew they were going to get me, but I tried my best not to let it show - unfortunately, I failed. And as I did, Spencer laughed.

So loudly it echoed through the room and taunted me.

I felt so stupid, I felt like a mouse falling into a trap.

“Was I stupid to love you?” I blurted out

Spencer stopped laughing as soon as my words left my mouth.

“Was I reckless to help?”

The only way Spencer let me help him, was by staying silent and not talking to the team about his hidden actions. He didn’t need to tell me to keep quiet, it was implied - and I realised it quickly.

But I would have opened my mouth as soon as Spencer touched me that first night. I didn’t, because I loved him.

“Your help was useless because I ended up here, anyway.”

“The team could’ve found out before.” - I told him, silencing him with a stare - “If I had talked to Emily the day after I caught you, you would’ve ended up here long before today.”

Spencer slammed his hands on the table. “Are you really that stupid, doll? Or are you just pretending to be dumb?”

I took a step back, clutching to my jacket.

“They all knew.”

Knew about what?

Who knew?

Spencer watched me as I turned to the glass instinctively, as if I could have talked to Penelope through it. I didn’t even know if she was watching or listening to me, but at that moment I needed someone by my side.

Maybe I should’ve asked her to come in with me.

“Wow, you really are clueless.”

“I… I don’t…”

Spencer scoffed, bringing that wicked smile on his lips. “The team knew about me. You did a shitty job at protecting me, but I appreciate the effort.”

His words sucked the air out of my body because nothing made sense. The team knew I was protecting a serial killer, yet didn’t do anything? The team knew that one of their own was a serial killer, yet didn’t do anything until I spoke up?

Maybe Spencer was just making fun of me at that point.

Maybe he was trying to get into my head like he did for all of these months.

“They had no physical proof it was me, so they couldn’t link my victims directly to me.” - Spencer explained to me, rolling his eyes in annoyance - “Wow, you really are stupid. How did I stay with you for so long?”

I stared at him with a blank expression.

I didn’t want to believe him, but his words made sense now.

I always felt like JJ and Emily knew something I didn’t, but I thought it was because of my paranoia. I had to go to work after making love to a serial killer, I had to weigh my words each time I spoke on the phone with Spencer - basically I had to tiptoe around the topic without slipping.

But I guess I slipped, and I didn’t know.

“Was it obvious to everyone?”

Spencer nodded his head and that’s when I knew I had to leave. I didn’t want to talk anymore, I didn’t want to stay on my feet, I didn’t want to see his face or hear his voice, because everything I did was pointless.

All the sleepless nights I stayed up, trying to figure out what to do. All those hectic mornings where I had to clean the house before anyone of my colleagues arrived to have breakfast with me and Spencer. All those calls in the middle of the night to Spencer, begging him to come home because I missed him and crying my eyes out when he wouldn’t arrive. All those weird looks I got at the office for coming in wearing Spencer’s bracelets or his necklace.

My colleagues weren’t looking at me because they were curious.

No, they were worried.

Worried because they knew I had a serial killer in my own house.

Worried because they knew that if I hadn’t gone to work, they would’ve had to look for me, terrified to find me with my throat slashed somewhere.

“Are you going to cry like a pathetic little girl now?”

I snapped my head up, staring at Spencer. “If you hate me so much, why did you keep me alive for all this time?”

He blinked, never moving his eyes off me. “Do you think I hate you?”

“You didn’t love me, that’s for sure.”

Spencer looked offended as he tapped his fingers over the table, a gesture that I learned he did when he was getting nervous or angry. At that moment, I couldn’t care less how he felt.

My life was falling apart, just like my heart, and I had no one there to catch me.

“I loved you more than anything else in the world, doll, even when we fought or disagreed. And sometimes I think I still do.” - his words sounded sincere but I didn’t want to fall for another lie - “We grew apart until we realised that we never felt real love for each other.”

No, no. Absolutely not. I couldn’t let him speak that way.

“I loved you, Spencer! I wanted to spend my whole life with you!” - I slammed my hand over the table, making him yelp - “I loved you to the point I would’ve taken the blame for everything you did, just because I didn’t want you to end up here. I almost lost you when you got locked up years ago, I didn’t want to go through it again.”

Spencer leaned forward. “I deserve to be here now.”

“Yes, I agree. You deserve it now, but I don’t deserve to be treated like this by you. You speak for yourself, I will speak for myself about what I felt for you.” - I pointed my finger at him - “You never felt real love for me, you took advantage of me and my feelings because you knew I would’ve pushed mountains and oceans to save you and protect you.”

I got closer to him, twisting his chair until he was facing me again.

“You scared me to the point I doubted myself and my loyalty to you over your sick idea of love. And guess what, Spencer? I still do. I still wonder if I could’ve done something to you, if anything ever happened with Luke even though I know in my heart I never cheated on you in any way.”

Spencer shifted on the chair, pulling his handcuffs as the table shook again.

I sat on it, not caring whether Spencer wanted to move or not. I knew he was trying to escape, he hated when people faced him with the reality of things - but at that time, I had to force him to listen to me.

There was no way in Hell I would’ve left without having the last word.

“You threatened to kill me, you told me that I belong to you and maybe I do. Maybe some part of me is still convinced you’re not being yourself right now, but that part is going to die soon. And you… You will die with it.” - I said with a coldness that surprised myself - “The happy memories I have of you, the sensations of your hands on my body, the smoothness of your lips on mine… All of this will die and you will no longer be my concern.”

The air in the room was thick, tense.

“I will not care about you, I will not think of you while you’re going to be stuck here, thinking of me living a new life, with someone better than you by my side.”

Spencer swallowed up his pride and kept his mouth shut.

“Who knows who this person is?” I shrugged, hopping off the table

I closed my jacket on the front with Spencer’s eyes staring at me, and signalled the guards I was ready to get out of the room. But before I opened the door, I turned around one last time.

“Oh wait, I know who it is.” - I exclaimed with a fake smile - “It’s Luke.”

Spencer widened his eyes at the sound of his colleague’s name. The same person he was worried about, the same person that he saw with me, the same person I would never be with because Luke wasn’t for me - I loved him as a friend, nothing more, nothing less.

Lying to Spencer has never felt so good as I walked out of the room, slamming the door behind my back.

“Doll, come back here!”

I could hear the commotion coming from the inside, I could hear Spencer yell my name over and over as I walked through the hallway of the prison. I didn’t care, I didn’t want to turn around and come back because he didn’t deserve it.

Spencer didn’t deserve me.

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handysolution · 1 year

Text

Undercover (18+)

Description: you go undercover with Spencer Reid when things go south and a truth is uncovered.

Content warnings: smut. Unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, rough.

This is my first smut with Spencer Reid. I hope you little sinners enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Thank you!

You put your hand on the man’s arm while you laughed. Your heels were uncomfortable and your smile was fake. Hotch put you undercover in this bar to catch a killer that was taking his victims home and killing them after they had sex. While you were talking to this man, Reid was watching from a barstool across the bar.

The dress you had on was low cut and short. The outline of your gun was evident through the tight dress so you couldn’t bring it. You felt almost naked without it, but Reid’s presence made you feel a little better. You had never gotten along very well; he stuck to mostly avoiding you and not holding conversation outside of work. But you knew that he was good at his job and wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?” The man asked you, and you snapped back into reality.

“Why don’t we get to know each other a little better first and then we can go back to your place?” You countered, having no way of knowing if this was the unsub and definitely not wanting to leave the building where your team was waiting.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” the man said and he grabbed onto your wrist tightly. Your eyes darted to the spot where Reid was, only to find another man sitting there that you didn’t recognize. You scanned the room and didn’t see Reid anywhere. He began to drag you to the door and you yelled at him to stop.

“Come on, bitch,” he said darkly, and Morgan came in with his gun already pointed telling him to stop. You went to the bathroom while Morgan was getting him in cuffs and you were scared thinking about what could have happened had the man get you out of the door. You took a minute to splash some water on your face and collect yourself.

Spencer was outside of the bar when you walked out behind Morgan. You watched Morgan put him in the back of the car and you heard hotch tell the rest of the team to meet at his house with a search warrant. Spencer began to walk away and you pulled his arm to stop him.

“Spencer, what the fuck?” You shouted a little louder than you meant to. He looked taken aback.

“What?” He asked you, and your eyes bulged.

“You’re supposed to be my partner and you left me back there! He started dragging me out of the bar! And you weren’t there! What if something went wrong?” You asked him, baffled at the situation.

“You two. Stay here and empty the bar. We need to process the area,” Hotch cut you off with one eye brow raised in a warning. You backed down.

“Consider it done,” you said to him, and he turned away. You walked past Reid and shoulder checked him. He stumbled back a bit but you didn’t wait to talk to him. You told everyone, including the bartender to clear out. You needed to process the scene and get any evidence since this man had been hunting here for weeks.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Reid said, and your back was to him. You rolled your eyes and continued with what you were doing.

“You have never liked me which is fine, believe me, but I would never expect you to let me be in danger,” you shot back.

“I didn’t think he was the guy! He was the fifth guy I watched hit on you. I just assumed it was another douche and that you were fine. I stepped out to get some air,” he countered.

“It doesn’t matter! I would never do that to you or anyone on the team, for that matter. If you don’t like me, that’s fine. But how can I trust to work with you if you’re just going to leave me in harms way?” You yelled back.

“I don’t not like you, it’s just-“

“Just what? I see how you avoid me. I’m sorry that I’m so hard to work with!” You cut him off. You both looked at each other with heated eyes. Suddenly, he rushed forward and kissed you. The heat of the moment took over and you kissed him back. He held your face in his hands, his tongue fighting, and ultimately winning, for dominance.

“I don’t hate you. I hated watching you get hit on by those men, men that could never give you what you need,” he said, and you were dazed. He was jealous. That’s why he stepped outside.

“Bathroom. Now,” you said back, and he led you there by the hand. He pushed you back into the doorway, kissing you the entire time. You kicked your heels off while never letting your lips leave his.

He picked you up and set you on the sink, his body filling in the space between your legs. He started kissing your neck, and then moving down. When he made it to your thighs, he saw the black, lacy thong and pulled it down your legs. He flung it somewhere over his shoulder carelessly. You saw his eyes deepen with lust as he took in the sight of you.

You felt his fingers enter you, and you let your head fall back, “oh? You’re this wet for me already?” He asked you with a chuckle.

“Fuck you,” you said in response, but you couldn’t hold back your moans when you felt his mouth on your clit. His fingers pumped methodically in you, his tongue flicking quickly against you. You put your hands in his hair, tangling it around your fingers. You began to grind your hips against his face, your body begging for release. He curled his fingers up inside you and you found it. Your eyes shut and your head fell back against the mirror as your hands pulled his face away, your body not being able to handle the overstimulation.

He laughed as he stood up, wiping his mouth with his hand. You laid limp against the mirror, your body tired.

“You’re so hot when you cum,” he told you. You didn’t say anything back, but thought about how hot he was between your legs.

“Fuck me please,” you said, and he smiled pridefully.

“I thought it was fuck you earlier. Now you want to beg for me?” He asked cockily. As much as you didn’t want to inflate his ego, you needed him. You felt yourself practically dripping with anticipation.

“Just shut up and fuck me already,” you said as you got down off the counter only to bend over the sink. You made eye contact with him the entire time he undid his belt. He pulled it out and you felt it hit your ass, but you couldn’t see it in the mirror.

He pulled your dress up onto your back, leaving your ass exposed to him. He grabbed it and you felt his tip rubbing against your entrance.

“Please put it in,” you sighed, and you saw his eyes go dark again in the mirror as he watched your face while he slipped it into you. He didn’t move at first. “Please, please move. I need it,” you whimpered.

“I love hearing you beg,” he said back. He began fucking you roughly, pulling it almost all the way out before burying himself all the way in you again.

“Tell me how it feels,” he said, and when you didn’t say anything back he continued, “do you like being full?”

“So fucking good. You’re so deep inside me,” you said back. You let your head fall forward with pleasure. He didn’t like that, so he grabbed a handful of your hair and forced your face back into the mirror.

“I want you to watch me ruin you. I want you to watch yourself come undone around me,” he said sternly. You felt your orgasm fast approaching. He took his other hand and began quickly rubbing your clit with it.

“Spencer, I’m so close. Please don’t stop. Harder,” you moaned out, and he complied. You loved the way he stretched you out and pounded you senseless.

“Then shut the fuck up and come,” he said, “such a good slut for me. You like being fucked hard like a whore, don’t you? You like me destroying your cunt.” With those words, you came. You watched as your face distorted, your mouth hanging open and your eyes rolling back. You felt yourself clench around him.

After your orgasm was over, he let your hair go and your head fell against the counter again. He stopped touching your clit and let his hands wrap around either side of your waist. He still fucked you rough and he grabbed onto you to force your body back while he moved forward. You felt his thrusts become unregulated and sloppy. You knew he was close.

“You’re doing such a good job taking it. So pretty when you cum. It’s so tight,” he praised you and your insides fluttered at his words.

“Please fill me up. I need it,” you said, and he sighed.

“Good little slut wants to feel me cum inside her? You’re such a whore around my cock. I bet you’ve gotten yourself off thinking about this, haven’t you?” He said, and you nodded. You had.

You felt his dick twitch inside of you before you felt the warm liquid coat your insides. He fell flush against your back for a second, collecting himself before he pulled out slowly.

“Let me get something to clean you up,” he said nonchalantly. He landed on a wet paper towel. He wrapped his hands around your waist and hoisted you back onto the counter, facing him. He began to wipe you up.

“Oh no, your shirt,” you said, slightly embarrassed. The light gray T-shirt he was wearing was coated in your wetness, “I’m so sorry.”

He glanced down and chuckled, “don’t worry about it. I’ll say I spilled something. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He said and you shook your head, still reeling from the orgasms.

“Next time I’ll be more gentle,” he promised, and your stomach fluttered at the mention of a next time.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n

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dungeons-are-too-cold · 2 years

Note

can you make a one shot where reid has to get into one of the casinos he was banned from bc there was a scene there and the people who own the place are like "wait a minute-" I've beeb offering my first born for this

Request fro @weird-hoodie-kid : This was oh so fun to write. I think this is honestly some of my best work so i really hope you like it! Warnings: slight alcohol consumption word count: 1.2k words

Vegas cases were always hard for Spencer. Between family drama and the possibility of running into people he grew up with, there was always something that could go wrong. The one thing he didn’t expect to be a problem though was the fact that he was banned from nearly every casino on the strip.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to be here?” Morgan said. He was eyeing Reid as the team rolled into the first casino. The unsub was killing dealers all across the city, so they had to visit the sites and Hotch insisted Spencer go because he would know these locations best. Spencer didn’t have the heart to tell him it was probably a bad idea.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Why do you ask?”

“Umm, you’re wearing a hat and told us not to introduce you to the owner. You also mumbled that it was good the security guard was new,” Emily retorted. Spencer had also been hiding behind the both of them as they came in.

“I might have been banned from this particular casino. Twice.”

“How do you get banned twice?”

“You wear a believable fake mustache and talk exclusively in Russian?” As much as he wished he was lying about the mustache, he wasn’t. Spencer was banned once when he was 16 for being 16. Luckily for him, they were nice because they hadn’t realized he was also counting cards, but in order to get back in after being banned from basically every casino he could get into, he invested in a convincing fake mustache and learned just enough Russian to be able to play. Now that time he was banned for counting cards, but he doesn’t like to talk about that.

“Reid, you should have stayed at the office!”

“Ow! There’s no need to hit me Emily,” Spencer said, rubbing his bicep where Emily shoved him. “There is no way the owner is going to recognize me. I promise. He could literally look at my ID and not be able to recognize me.” Even with his confidence, Reid still found himself hiding behind Morgan every time someone walked by in all black.

They all decided it would be best if Reid didn’t talk to the owner, so he was left to wander the casino. In hindsight, that was a horrible idea, but at the time it seemed he would be able to hide easiest among the crowds. It was a busy Friday night, so it was quite easy for Spencer to fold inconspicuously into the crowd. His long coat and flat brim hat obstructed his appearance just enough to seem nothing like himself let alone his 18-year-old self, but it was drawing an odd amount of attention from both patrons and staff alike. Not many people kept their coats on inside a sweaty Las Vegas casino, even in November.

“Umm, sir, I’m going to need to check your ID,” said one of the bar tenders when he tried to order a jack and coke. With how suspicious Reid felt, he definitely looked like some teen trying to look older. No one could hide a baby face like his, even under that hat.

“Of course, yeah, for sure. Let me just… here, here you go.” Reid struggled to pull his wallet out of his pocket. Usually, he just reaches for his credentials, but he didn’t want to reveal his FBI agent status just at this moment.

“Cool cool. You alright man? You seem kinda nervous.”

“Yeah, I’m alright. I’m cool. Just, uh, haven’t been to Vegas in a while.” He shifted as he took a drink from the bartender. “Is it usually this busy here?”

“I mean Fridays can still be a lot, but this is nowhere near our usual crowd. That killer has a lot of people skipping the tables, going straight for the slot machines.”

“Makes sense.” Reid took a sip of his drink and turned to observe the crowd by the nearest set of slot machines.

“Wait, are you a model or something? You just have this familiar look, and I swear I’ve seen your picture somewhere.” Reid started to panic.

“Nope! Thanks for the drink,” and with that, he set his drink down on the bar and started into the crowd. Out of his peripheral vision he could see the bar tender call over one of the security guards. They glanced back and pointed at him. Immediately freaked out, Reid headed back in the direction of his team members. He needed to get the hell out of here.

“Prentiss! Morgan! I think we have to get out of-,” And before he could get the rest of his phrase out, he bumped right into someone tall and sturdy, knocking off his hat. “I am so sorry, sir,” he said, reaching down for his hat. “I was looking for my friends.”

“Do I know you?” the figure said. When Spencer finally looked up at his face, his heart dropped into his stomach.

“Umm, no man, I don’t think I know you, or you know me. I’ve never been to Vegas before today,” he sputtered out as he looked into the face of the casino owner.

“That’s not what you told me.” The bartender Spencer ordered from suddenly emerged after him from the crowd, followed by the security guard he was speaking to. They held up a picture of 18-year-old Spencer in his mustache from the last time he was banned.

“He’s a fucking card counter. For all we know, he could be the killer,” spat the security guard as he went to pat him down. He quickly found his revolver holstered on his hip, snatching it from where it sat. “I’m gonna need to see your registration for open and concealed carry.”

“PRENTISS! MORGAN! I COULD USE SOME HELP!” Emily and Derek came sprinting down the carpeted corridor to where Reid was being placed in cuffs. The bar tender still had the image of the young mustached version of Spencer held up for everyone to see.

“I think one of my guys got your guy,” the owner said, gesturing to Spencer and the image. The two agents, who had their guns readied for a takedown, holstered their weapons, and started to cackle.

“That’s really the mustache you chose? It practically swallows your face!” Prentiss said before she couldn’t get any more words out.

“That’s one of our agents. Let me grab his credentials.” Morgan pulled Reid’s FBI credentials out of the front of the coat. After flashing them to the guard and the casino owner, they finally let him out of the cuffs.

“Hey, listen, I don’t like seeing you back here, but unfortunately I can’t say no to Federal agents. Just catch this guy and get out of my casino, alright?”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry sir.”

“Hey, do you think we could keep that picture? Our supervisor would get a kick out of it,” Emily said, much to Spencer’s objection.

“Be my guest.”

“Hotch is so gonna kill you, kid. And Garcia is gonna love this,” Morgan said. All Reid could do was sulk back to the SUV. This was going to be a long case.

Yay! I hope it was what you were looking for lol. I definitely had a really good time writing it so thank you so much for the requests! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Send requests here! Check out my masterlist here!

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds watch through #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #emily prentiss #stories from the dungeon #answers from the dungeon #aaron hotchner

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grav3yardbb92 · 2 years

Text

SCRATCH(DR REID X BAU!READER

Dr. Spencer Ried x BAU!reader

TW: language, explicit sexual assault (in the form of a drug-induced dream), kidnapping, torture, violence, Mr. Scratch

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

* Reader POV. *

"Man am I glad that case is closed" JJ"s statement is backed up by similar ones from the rest of my team members as we crowd inside the elevator, headed up to greet our bright and cheery friend upstairs. This past case had been particularly rough on us all, as most cases involving children did. After cases like this, well, all cases actually, all I really want to do is go home to my shared apartment with Spencer and wind down, with a hot cup of tea and a Doctor Who marathon. But a night in is not in the cards tonight, there are papers to fill out and cases files to analyze, it is going to be a long night.

" I don't know about you guys, but I am starving. How about I drive to that Thai place down the road and you guys' text me your orders" I state, receiving smiles and thank You's in return. "Except you Einstein, I know your favorite's by now" I add before placing a kiss to my boyfriend's cheek and grabbing my purse to head back into the elevator.

I finally reach the parking garage and find my car, remembering how proud I am of myself for convincing Spencer to let me drive to work. I unlock it and sit inside setting my purse on the seat beside me before closing the door, which turned out to be a huge mistake. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of my head as my hair was pulled tightly, before my head was roughly slammed into the steering wheel twice, before I felt my body being pulled back to rest in the seat. A dark figure was standing outside the car beside me, it placed a mask over my mouth, and I began inhaling light smoke. I knew I needed to stay awake and fight, but I couldn't, so I didn't.

I woke up in a fog, I felt an excruciating pain in my head and heard ringing in my ears. I couldn't move my hands or feet, that's when recognized the heavy feeling of metal shackles, which were chained to the ceiling and floor.

" Hello dear, do you remember me?"

That voice. "No, you can't be him"

"Oh, but it is me. I told you I would find you again. I AM YOUR MASTER; YOU ARE MY PET"

"Michael Davis?"

It can't be him; he is in prison.

Three years ago, we were on a case involving an unsub, who kidnapped and murdered three young women, he held them for different amounts of time, they all had multiple knife cuts, whip marks and a burn mark on their hips, in the shape of a heart. He was branding them. We discovered where he met with his victims, and we set a trap with me as the bait. Of course, I was armed, and my family had my back one thousand percent but that wasn't enough. He apparently decided that he was too exposed in the club, but he had already chosen me. When he didn't make a move that night, we took it as a loss and decided to come back to the case the next morning. Exhausted, we headed back to our hotel rooms, with the exception of Rossi and Spencer, who agreed to stay a few more hours. I still haven't figured out how, but Michael entered my hotel room, attacking me as I was preparing for bed, my gun was on the dresser, too far away from me. I was stabbed with a needle, similar to the other victims and much like now, I woke up chained to the floor and ceiling. For three weeks I was tortured, whipped, cut, raped and beaten. The entire time, all I could think of was my team, my family, who I knew would stop at nothing to find me, all I had to do was be strong and hold on. The days blurred together, the entire time, he would repeat the same mantra, yelling for me to repeat it back, of course I didn't and of course I was cut or whipped for it. The pain became too much and I eventually gave in, as I'm sure the others did as well.

" You are my master; I am your pet"

" Good girl"

Thats it, he needed them to say it, as a sick form of consent before he branded them. Before he branded us. When they finally busted down the door, I was so relieved. I had figured it out, he didn't kill them on purpose, they were accidently killed by his torture methods, he would have kept me for as long as I stayed alive. Thankfully, my team came through, they found me, broke the chains and arrested him. We got him. So how is he here now? why is this happening again?

"Say it"

"no"

"SAY! IT! You know you want to"

"Never again" I spit back at him, whoever he is, I won't break this time. My head is pushed backward roughly, and it hits a wall. His voice hits my ears again and I recognize it. It isn't Michael, but I know that voice. Mr. Scratch has me.

"Peter" I mumble out, he turns around and what was the face of the monster from my nightmares now looks like a completely different monster.

" what? no"

"You're Peter Lewis"

"NO!"

The white smoke feels my lungs again and once again, I drift off to my happy place, in Spencer's arms on the couch, reading our favorite book together.

I wake up yet again, the same horrible pain in my head, as I look down, I notice my body is covered in cuts, and I cry out as I read the letter shaped red marks.

PET

"You are my master; I am your pet"

"You are my.... No" I notice the wall behind me, and I remember hitting it, specifically what happened after my head hit it. I broke the Illusion. I can do it again.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK

"Somebody help me"

"Peter Lewis, FBI!" Oh my god, they found me.

"Y/N"

" Emily, Spencer"

"it's clear, he's gone" Alvez and Emily begin unchaining me as Spencer pulls me in for a hug.

"Spencer, my stomach" He sends me a confused look, before he glances down, when he looks back to me, he doesn't look shocked or terrified, but still confused, then sympathetic.

"There's nothing there, pumpkin, Your stomach's fine"

I am finally released and dive into his arms, tears fill my eyes and his as well, and take in the scent of coffee, old books and something distinctively Reid. As we reluctantly, pull away, I hesitantly glance down to my stomach, only to find that my boyfriend was right, as always, the marks were gone, no cuts, no blood, no horrid letters spelling out pet. Just scars from my past that, with the help from my team and my amazing doctor boyfriend eventually healed.

"Can we go home now, doctor?" I asked Spencer, as he helped me walk out of the building, meeting up with Penelope and the rest of our family who were standing by an open ambulance.

"Absolutely not, you are going to the hospital, you have a concussion." his response gains confused looks from our team.

"Oh, my poor genius girl, he gave you a concussion?" Penelope asked, moving to give me tight hug.

" Actually, I kind of gave myself the concussion"

"WHAT?"

#criminal minds imagines #Criminal Minds #dr reid x reader #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid imagines #dr reid imagines #trigger warning

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my-mummy-dust · 1 year

Text

Blood on your hands - Rossi x reader

Idk who made the gif I’m sorry. The fic is inspired by this gif! Thank you so much @0and0its0doctor0 for helping me with this 🤍

Warnings: blood, suicide, criminal mind’s violence, prolly some grammar mistakes somewhere. Word count: 2.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ:

It all happened so fast. Uncomfortably fast.

The case was nothing out of whatever you considered ordinary. It was a hostage situation. You were the first one in the building. You herd in your earpiece Hotch and Rossi telling you what to do. No sudden movements, stay as calm as you can, let the unsub think he’s in control of the situation, but make sure to keep the upper hand in case something were to go south. Nothing you couldn’t do. So where did it all go wrong? What happened?

The unsub had a knife to the victims throat. He told you that if you were to come one step closer to him, he’d kill her. Okay, thats fine. Breathe. No sudden movements. You put your gun back in its holster and raised your hands, showing him that you didn’t have anything in your hands. He turned the victim around harshly by her shoulders and for a second you thought, you really thought he was going to let her go. Then it happened. A guttural, pained scream ripped through the poor girl. You watched in shock as the unsub pulled back and kept stabbing her in the stomach. You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t make any noise; just a horrified gasp.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were lunging towards the victim as she crumpled to the ground. The panicked voices of Hotch and Rossi in your earpiece sounded muffled, as if cotton had been stuffed into your ear. The unsub panicked and quickly ripped the knife out of the stomach of the victim and shoved it into his own throat. The heavy thumping is what sent you over the edge. You turned an dropped to your knees, scrambling to stop the blood pouring from the victims stomach. You tore your FBI vest off and quickly took your shirt off, momentarily thanking yourself for wearing a tank top underneath it. You bunched up the shirt holding it firmly on the spot where the most blood was coming out of. The blood quickly soaked through the shirt and onto your hands, covering them in an unnervingly warm blanket of deep red.

You were muttering incoherently under your breath as you pressed the soaked through shirt harder on her abdomen, tears blurring your vision. A firm hand was felt on your shoulder. You jumped but didn’t look to see who it was, nor did you stop applying pressure to the wounds.

“Hey, Y/n, she’s gone, come on”

It was Morgan. His voice was steady. How could he be so calm at a time like this? You ignored him, refusing to leave until you felt the hand from your shoulder move to your forearm; starting to pull you away. You tried to stay. Tried to save her, but Morgan pulled you away.

‘No! Morgan…you- you have to let me stay! She’s dying, shell bleed out if i dont help her!”

Your vision was still blurred as you tried to pull away.

‘She’s gone, kid. She isn’t coming back’

‘No- no how can you say that! Theres still time…theres still something i can do…there has to be something…..”

You voice trailed off to nothing, getting caught in your throat. He let go of you, turning to look at you, ready to grab you if you decided to bolt. You couldn’t. You didn’t even want to keep standing. Looking down at your hands you felt sick. Bending over, you rubbed your hands on your pant legs, trying desperately to get the caked on blood off. You couldn’t take it anymore, you rubbed your hands on your pants until you felt another Hand on your back. You stood up and turned around. Instantly recognizing the silver hair and bushy eyebrows. You felt your shoulders drop. You spoke before he could, sounding calmer than you actually were. Your voice small, barley audible.

‘I didn’t move until he already stabbed her…i did what you told me to….i-i don’t..’

He held his hands out in front of him, his voice nicer than you thought it would be, considering you got both the victim and the unsub killed in one go. He looked you in the eyes, worry painting his expression.

‘Hey, hey, None of this…is your fault.”

He spoke slowly, annunciating his words; making sure you herd what he was saying. You just nodded, dropping your gaze to the ground, looking at his shoes. You looked up when you saw prentiss in your peripheral vision, walking slowly over to you.

‘Hey, the medical team wants to check you out.’

You nodded and followed her, walking away from Rossi.

The rest of the day went by in a haze. People talked, you pretended to pay attention. The only thing you herd clearly for the rest of the day was Hotch telling the team to make their way to the jet.

———————————

You took the window seat farthest away from the rest of the team, not wanting to make yourself try to hold a conversation. The jet took off and you found your mind drifting back to what happened. Drifting back to every possible outcome. She could have lived if you had done something different. You looked down at your hands, clasped tightly together in your lap. Turning your hands palms up, you zoned out. You blinked a few tears away, then held your breath when you saw the same uncanny shade of red covering your palms. Your brow knitted together as you sat up straighter in your seat, hunching over slightly; your feet flat on the floor and your knees together.

You flipped your palms over and started rubbing the blood off your pants once again. But this time it didn’t wipe off. Your breath hitched, a lump in your throat as you rubbed your hands harder on your pant leg. You rubbed your hands until your hands started to burn. Your thoughts were in a jumble until you felt two hands covering the top of your own, stopping them.

You looked in front of you, sniffling as your eyes met Rossi’s. You shook your head, looking back down at large hands on top of yours. Watching as his hands slid under yours, making a barrier between them and your pants. Focusing on the rings he had on.

Rossi was putting his coffee cup back with the others at the coffee bar when he saw you tense up and hunch over slightly, starting to rub your hands on your pant legs just like you had before. He had been keeping an eye on you ever since he saw how morgan had to almost pry you away from the victims body. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but he couldn’t not keep an eye on you. He set his coffee cup down and walked over to you. He called your name quietly a few times and when you didn’t respond, he crouched down in front of you, resting his hands on your own to stop you.

‘It’s not your-‘

‘No but it is. I did everything i could.’

You didn’t mean to cut him off, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your voice was still hushed but panicked.

‘Exactly, you did everything you co-‘

‘No. Dave you don’t understand. If..if I hadn’t-‘

‘If you hadn’t what? Darling, you did exactly what we told you,’

His voice was calm and steady. The anchor in the seemingly never ending storm you so desperately needed.

‘That’s what I’m trying…i did everything you said…so why, why is she..’

You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word. You pulled your hands away from his and covered your face with them, hunching over farther and resting your elbows on your legs; letting out quiet, muffled, sobs. He stood up, taking off his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders as best as he could since you were in an undershirt; your button-up shirt left abandoned at the crime scene.

His jacket was warm and comforting. You smelled his cologne, basking in the familiarity of it. You sobbed into your hands for a moment longer before rubbing your eyes and dropping your hands to your lap, looking up at Rossi with tired, tear-filled eyes.

‘You did everything right y/n. This is not your fault. We didn’t know the unsub would act out like that.’

Once again he spoke slowly and clearly. He sat in the chair next to you and took one of your hands in his, bringing it to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles, then resting your hand in his lap; interlacing his fingers with yours, rubbing the top of your hand with his thumb.

‘Do you understand?’

He tipped his head down a little, urging you to look at him. When you didn’t he squeezed your hand a little. You looked up in response, sniffling as you nodded a little.

‘Hey, i need to know that you understand, okay?”

His voice kept the softness, but you could hear the more demanding undertones. You finally met his gaze, nodding once again.

‘I know…’

He nodded in return and smiled a little, reassuringly squeezing your hand once again.

‘When we land, I’m taking you straight to my house ok?’

It was a question, but it really wasn’t. You knew that if you objected he would reason you into staying with him, so no matter how you’d answer, you would end up at his house. Not that you were planning to object. A weight felt as if i was lifted off your shoulders when he said that. You didn’t want to ask if you could stay with him, but you knew if you did he would happily say yes. You hummed in response, looking out the window.

————————————————

The car ride to his house was silent. You had put your arms in the sleeves of Rossi’s suit jacket. One leg was crossed over the other, your arms crossed over your stomach. Rossi wanted desperately to comfort you in any way he could, but he knew you didn’t want to be messed with.

He pulled into the driveway and got out, walking to the passenger door and opening it for you, holding out a hand to help you out. You took the offer and got out of the car, the corner of your lip twitched up in a smile when you saw him get your bag to carry for you. He closed the car door and walked you into the house, once again opening and closing the door for you. He set your stuff next to his by the front door, carefully guiding you up the stairs and into his room.

You didn’t realize how late it was until the red flashing time on the alarm clock reminded you.

‘I can only assume you want to change, you left some pajamas here a few weeks ago.’

You nodded and he got them for you. Mumbling a thanks as you took them, you made your way to the bathroom to change. When you came out of the bathroom, he was in a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, pulling the covers back on the bed.

He saw you and walked over to where you stood, taking the bloody pants and setting them on the back of the chair that went with the little desk in his room.

‘Do you need anything? I haven’t seen you eat since lunch, but i can see why you wouldn’t have an appetite. Water?”

You shook your head, walking to the bed and climbing under the blankets. It never failed to amaze you how comfortable his bed was. It was like sleeping on a cloud. The sheets were cool and silky. The duvet was always so fluffy. You were lost in thought when you felt the bed dip next to you, adjusting to the weight of a second person.

The moment he was in the bed you scooted closer to him. He turned on his side and pulled you into his chest, one hand rested on the back of your head, the other on your lower back. He rested his chin on the top of your head, completely covering you in his embrace. You tangled your legs with his, grabbing tiny fistfuls of his shirt; worried that if you were to let go, he would fade away into the darkness that surrounded the two of you.

Rossi felt how tense you were and started slowly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. While you weren’t saying a word, you didn’t need to for Rossi to know the chaos that was taking place in your mind. He knew that your head was swarming with what-ifs and thousands of questions, all consisting of ‘why?”

‘I love you y/n, i really do.’

He sounded tired, but he would be dammed if he fell asleep before you. He’d tape his eyelids open if thats what it took to keep himself awake for you. Your thoughts stopped at the sound of his voice. Your grip on his shirt loosened, but you didn’t let go.

‘I love you too’

There was still a shake to your voice. When Rossi herd it he held you tighter.

‘I’m proud of you.’

He couldn’t be joking. You got two people killed. The only word you could get out was

‘How?”

‘You handled the situation way better than I’ve seen other people handle it. I wont go into detail, but compared to them, you handled it very well.’

He felt you shrug.

‘It’s okay to not be ok. It’s normal to be upset by this darling. It’s actually a good thing. It means you still have a heart for the victims.’

His words were bouncing off of you, some of them sunk in. You tried your best to focus on the way his hand rubbed up and down your back, how his other hand was resting on the back of your hand. You tried to focus on the way it felt like his chest was vibrating when he talked. The way you could feel his heartbeat if you were still enough. You tried to focus on the remnants of his cologne.

Eventually, every one of those things worked together and calmed you. Eventually you felt your shoulders drop, your muscles relaxing in his arms. He felt you melt in his arms and he couldn’t help but smile out of relief, knowing that you were finally calm. When he felt your breathing slow just a bit more, he kissed the top of your head. You wanted to break the silence and say something before you fell asleep.

‘Thank you…for everything’

You hated how much of an understatement that was. How you felt like you were downplaying just what he had done for you today. But it was all you cold manage.

‘You deserve all of it, and so much more.’

His sleepy tone matched yours. Calm and loving.

‘I love you’

He repeated, feeling you hum in response. Once your breathing evened out and he was sure you were asleep since your grip on his shirt reduced to you just holding it, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep; not daring to let go of you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ:

A /n: wow! This was something else. I loved writing it! I hoped you liked it 🤍

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #David Rossi #my writing #hurt/comfort

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