#Unsubs Class of 18

[reiderwriter]

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

[thedoctorisgroovy]

Schooled

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

» Word count: 998

» Warnings: use of y/n, S3-5 Spencer, reader has just started at the BAU, mention of bullying, fluff, establishing relationship, awkward Spencer, use of the word sh**ty, mention of gunshot wound, gn reader, they/them pronouns, slightly non canon character behaviours

» A/N: so Im 27 and i've never written a fic before! I had a dream the other night that I was gonna turn into a one shot but realised I needed way more backstory to get to the dream scene so this is gonna be multiple chapters! Reader should be GN, if not I apologise! Also I have no clue about how law enforcement works so all references to the FBI, statistics etc are all made up. Any feedback is welcome but please try to be kind/constructive!

CHAPTER 1:

Your job with the BAU took you all over the country; mountain ranges, the desert, small towns, big cities, and if you were lucky, even the beach, which may sound slightly psychopathic considering you solve homicides and kidnappings for a living. You never thought it would take you back to your old high school however. The FBI had been called in to your home-town to help solve a string of disappearances/kidnappings that seemed to be connected to the school. It started off as one or two kids not showing up for class, but had now escalated into 6 official missing students. Local police were struggling to determine whether the unsub was a teacher or student, and in a population of 35,000, they called in the BAU to put together a more accurate profile of who they were looking for.

After moving away at the ripe age of 18 to get your bachelor’s degree at a university far away, you had no intention of ever returning to your shitty town. School wasn’t too hard, you got good grades and had a few solid friends but still fell victim to the small town bullying and mentality that you’ve spent the last few years getting over in therapy. Attending the academy straight after graduating helped to keep you busy and away too - much to your mother’s protests - but you knew your goal in life. Joining the FBI and then eventually the BAU was your best shot at never returning, and while your one track mind kept you focused, it unfortunately lead to this case.

On the plus side, it also lead you to the best group of friends - who were your family, lets face it - and boyfriend you could ask for. Dr Spencer Reid was the first member of the team that you were introduced to by Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner on your first day. As he’s your age and at the time, a little awkward, Hotch thought you’d be least intimidated joining the team by meeting him first.

Hotch told you that he was a genius and had a tendency to ramble trivia at people, which intrigued you. You’d never met a 26 year old genius before. As he lead you down the ramp and across the bullpen, you noted 2 women; a blonde girl with quirky clothes and a big grin and a brunette with big eyes and a bright red tank top. You felt their eyes follow you and SSA Hotchner across the room as he lead you to wonder boy’s desk. He had his head buried in a file; legs bunched together on his seat,  a pen tapping against his lips absentmindedly, his face obscured slightly by the hair falling across his cheeks and forehead.  You reached his desk and Hotch cleared his throat slightly. When he didn’t react, Hotch finally spoke up.

“Dr Reid, this is Special Agent Y/F/N, Y/L/N.” Hotch said in a firm but polite tone. Spencer flinched when Hotch spoke, his voice snapping him out of whatever work induced rabbit hole his brain was stuck in. In an instant, his legs were now back onto the floor, whipped his head up and pushed his glasses up onto his head. Spencer leaned over his desk and extended his hand, to shake yours. He gave you a big smile which you remember looked genuine and sweet at the time.

“Hi, I’m Dr Reid… Or Spencer, just call me Spencer, Dr sounds prententious. I mostly just say it to sound smart but I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.” As he started rambling, you couldn’t help but stare. Now that his face wasn’t covered by his hair, you noticed how pretty he was. His light, soft brown eyes scanned your face while you accidentally stared into them. There was a kindness there that you felt drawn to and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at his strong jawline.

“Agent Y/L/N?” Spencer questioned softly, his smile dropping to a face of mild concern. You looked down and realised his hand was still extended waiting for you to shake it. Mortified that you’d been staring at this poor man’s face, you blushed and quickly stuck your hand out to reciprocate the greeting.

“Nice to meet you!” You tried to muster in your cheeriest polite voice, hiding your embarrassment as best you could. His smile grew again, cheeks turning ever so slightly salmon colored.

“Reid, I’m leaving Agent Y/L/N in your care. Can you please introduce them to the rest of the team before the debrief? JJ’s waiting for us in the briefing room but I’ve told her to wait 5 minutes for introductions.” With that, Hotch left and you stood semi awkwardly at Reid’s desk unsure whether to initiate conversation or wait for him to take the lead. Thankfully he did.

“As the idiom says ‘there’s no time like the present’” Spencer quipped, standing up and placing his case file onto the desk. He gestured to follow him as he lead you to the two women who you could tell were gossiping quite frankly.

Since then, you’d been inseparable. The whole team noticed how fond you were of each other; 6 months of choosing to pair up on missions, sleeping next to each other on the jet, filing paperwork until the early hours alone in the office. Eventually, Garcia - your loveable bubbly tech analyst best friend - forced you to go on an official date - much to your fake protestations - and that night, you decided to make it official. The “I love you’s” came after a particularly dangerous case where you got shot in the field. The good doctor refused to leave your side from the minute you were injured until you got into the hospital bed. After surgery to remove the bullet, he laid on your recovery bed with you and whispered that he loved you and you whispered back before you both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2

taglist: @gghostwriter @inlovewithelliewilliams @the-quackson-brothers @lonelymuffin @lobstertalk @primrosesposts

[little-diable]

Mine to own, mine to hold - Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 7/?)

Chapter seven, here we go! Thank y'all for the love on the past chapters! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

Warnings: 18+, some angst, some mild smut, thighriding, talks about stalking, short mention of a panic attack

Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2k words)

Profiling 101 Series Masterlist

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight

“We treat this case like any other.” Aaron’s voice echoed through the room, gaze set on his team, flickering to (y/n)’s uneasy eyes at any given chance. The second she had told him about the pictures, and the texts, he had called Penelope, asking her to contact the others. There was no time to lose, set on finding whoever was stalking (y/n), following her around like a shadow that blended in with the night whenever she tried to look for it. 

“Hotch, this clearly also goes against you, I mean, c’mon, you’re on these pictures too.” Derek’s words left (y/n) shuddering, fingers tightening their grip on the sleeves of her sweater, hoping that the fabric would swallow her whole. Tears had instantly begun to pour down her cheeks as she had opened up to Aaron, apologising for keeping this from him, forcing the walls she had oh so carefully begun to build to collapse. 

“Forty percent of stalking victims are stalked by a former partner, forty-two by an acquaintance, and more than twice as many victims are stalked with technology than without. Seeing (y/n) with Hotch could have been the trigger that forced our unsub to escalate.” Spencer kept rambling, statistics (y/n) couldn’t focus on, once again forcing her mind to race, trying to figure out who was behind this all. 

“Hey,” Aaron whispered the word, hand placed on (y/n)’s trembling knee. Her glassy eyes found his dark and stormy ones, trying to appear strong in front of the team, not wanting to come across as scared, petrified even, and yet she clearly failed to do so. “We’ll find them, I promise.”

“It could be anybody, a person you smiled at when picking up a coffee, another student you paid a few seconds of attention to, this isn’t your fault, (y/n).” Dave shot her a warm smile, trying to soothe her pain with his somewhat comforting words. “Is there anybody you can think of, somebody you noticed these past weeks?”

“No, I keep on thinking about this since I got the first text, but there’s nobody. I didn’t really mingle with other students or professors, and besides studying at home, I’ve spent time here with you guys.” 

“I tried to trace the texts, but the unsub know what they’re doing, so far I could only narrow the radius down to the city.” Penelope’s voice dripped with annoyance, annoyance directed at whoever was tormenting her friend, annoyance directed at the unsub that tried to play games with (y/n). 

“Garcia, I want you to look at the security cameras on campus, follow (y/n) around, and try to find somebody suspicious, Reid and JJ will help you. Dave, Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to check out the cameras near (y/n)’s apartment, let’s try and follow whoever dropped off the box. (Y/n), a word in my office please.” Aaron was the first to rise from his seat, opening the door for (y/n) with a warm smile thrown her way, hand placed on the small of her back. No words were spoken between the two as they walked back to Aaron’s office, but while (y/n) was still shaken up, she couldn’t help but relax into the comforting touch, feeling safe enough to take a deep breath. 

“I want you to stay with me till we know who the unsub is, you’re no longer safe at your apartment.” She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to bite down the protest wanting to leave her. If there was one thing (y/n) didn’t want to do, it was give in and hide, not when the unsub felt as if they had the upper hand in this game, a game they’d eventually lose. 

“I won’t give in, I don’t want them to feel as if they won. And if they see me living with you, things would only escalate further. Also, I won’t be the reason for Jack to feel unsafe in his own home.” Even though she hadn’t crossed paths with Aaron’s son yet, she knew all about him, intently listening to the stories Aaron shared with her every now and then. 

“I won’t leave you alone, not if I can protect you. Jack will stay with Jessica, it won’t take us long to catch the unsub, that much I can promise. I won’t take no for an answer, (y/n).”

……

Ever since (y/n) had stepped into the lecture hall, she had felt uneasy, unable to concentrate on anything but the people surrounding her. Her eyes couldn’t stop wandering, trying to memorise every face, wondering if one of them could be her stalker. 

She tried to keep her eyes from finding Aaron’s, not daring to give into the pull she felt, should their unsub be close. If she couldn’t stay at her own apartment, she at least didn’t want to pose a threat to her fellow students.

As her eyes kept wandering she momentarily met a pair of familiar ones, allowing her racing heartbeat to slow for a few moments, shooting Spencer a small smile. Even though (y/n) felt bad that Spencer had to follow her around on campus, the one who could blend in all too easily with the other students, she felt awfully safe with him and Aaron near, grateful for their support.

Her eyes kept moving, not listening to the talk one of the students had prepared about their research project, unable to focus on anything with this kind of uneasiness sticking to her. With her breath hitched in her chest, she found the eyes of Josh Lorey, the guy who tried to belittle (y/n)’s every idea, making fun of her whenever she spoke up.

Could it be him? Could it be the guy who talked her down? Could it be the guy who left her feeling awful about every theory she spoke out loud? 

He shot her a smirk (y/n) couldn’t read, torn between too many emotions. The room began to close in on her, vision growing blurry, heart picking up its racing beat once again. Fuck, she couldn’t breathe, struggled to hold on as panic began to take over her body. Without being able to control her movements, she hastily rose to her feet, clinging to her bag as she made her way out of the room, body shaking, eyes glassy. 

A sob rippled through (y/n) once she made it out into the hallway, having to press her palm against the nearest wall to stabilise herself. Shaky breaths were inhaled into her aching lungs, trying to get herself under control, all too used to these moments, to these attacks she had struggled with for years now. 

“(Y/n), look at me, hey.” Spencer’s soft voice managed to calm her tense body, eyes struggling to focus on his concerned expression, having to blink away her tears. It took her a few moments to get her breathing under control, choking on a raspy “Sorry” rolling off her tongue. “There’s nothing you have to apologise for, (y/n). Do you know what set it off?”

“There is,” another heavy breath was forced into her lungs, “There is this guy, Josh Lorey. He isn’t the friendliest to me, what if it’s him?”

“Let me text Penelope, if there’s something off about him, she’ll be the first to figure it out.” (Y/n) kept on counting her breaths as she watched Spencer text Penelope, grateful for her friend’s support. “Alright, should I drive you back to the BAU? Hotch has two meetings after class, and I doubt he’d want you to spend any more time here than needed.”

……

With her eyes set on the ceiling, (y/n) kept shuffling around on Aaron’s couch, waiting for him to make it back to the BAU after his meetings. Ever since her panic attack she had felt restless, not able to concentrate, not able to help the others comb through the security feed, eyes glassy, mind hazy. 

Though the second she heard Aaron approach, already used to the sound of his steps, she rose from her position, meeting Aaron halfway. The door to his office fell shut, arms finding their way around (y/n)’s middle to keep her close. She deeply inhaled his familiar scent, eyes squeezed shut to cling to the wave of safety Aaron’s closeness washed through her.

“Are you okay? I was worried after you left.” A hum left (y/n), not wanting to let go just yet. Aaron kept holding onto her as he guided them towards the couch she had been sitting on, plopping down on it with (y/n) placed in his lap. “Talk to me, sweetheart, I’m here.”

“I hate feeling like this, I want to be strong, I want to help you with finding the undsub. But I feel so anxious, I hate not knowing who is watching me.” He cupped her warm cheeks, grateful for the closed blinds that gave the two some kind of privacy. Their lips met in a slow kiss, drawing a soft moan from (y/n) as her arms found their way around Aaron’s neck.

“We will always protect you, I always will. I promise you.” Aaron murmured the words against her lips before he pulled her in for another heated kiss. She tried to shuffle even closer, groaning against his lips at the friction her movements caused, leaving her thighs trembling. Without breaking the kiss once, Aaron repositioned her, making (y/n) straddle one thigh, hands placed on her waist to guide her movements. 

“Fuck, just like that, baby.” Aaron’s raspy voice left her shuddering, head rolling back as she kept grinding against his thigh, feeling her bundle pulse, soaking through her panties. Curses rolled off her tongue all too softly, not wanting to attract any attention, hoping that the team couldn’t pick up on what the two of them were currently doing. Aaron kissed his way down her throat, holding onto (y/n) with a possessive grip, leaving marks he’d kiss later that night. 

“Oh god, Aaron, I’m so close already.” His proud chuckles left her smiling, teeth nibbling on her lower lip. Just the sight of him, cheeks slightly flushed, pupils dilated, could push her over the edge, trembling on his thigh as he pulled her even closer. With his name rolling off her tongue, (y/n) came on his thigh, forehead pressed against his. “Fuck, thank you for the distraction.” 

Another hearty laugh left Aaron, pressing one last kiss to her slightly swollen lips before he rose from the couch, grateful for the dark colour of his trousers. She kept catching her breath as she watched him move around, picking up a few papers, “I’ll drop these off at Strauss’ office, and then we can go home.”

Even though she wouldn’t admit it just yet, she loved the use of “home”, imagining a life with Aaron together, waking next to him every single day. Just the mere thought of it left her heart racing in excitement, praying that whoever was listening would pick up on her wishes.

“Alright, I’ll wait downstairs. Car keys?” He tossed them her way, sending her another quick smile before he left his office. Within moments she had shouldered her bag, making her way down the stairs leading up to Aaron’s office to say goodbye to the others. 

“Do you want me to accompany you till the bossman is back?” Derek rose from his seat, ready to reach for his jacket, but the shake of (y/n)’s head stopped him, leaning back against his desk. 

“It’s alright, he won’t be long, and there are cameras everywhere, so Penelope would be the first to notice something sketchy.” She shot Derek a smile and murmured a quiet “I’ll see you tomorrow” before she made her way to the elevator. Seconds kept passing by as she rode the elevator downstairs, eyes focused on her phone to read through the notes that had been uploaded to her study drive, catching up on the things she had missed due to her panic attack. 

Her feet carried her towards the parking lot, unlocking the dark SUV she had rode in too many times to count by now. Only as she plopped down on her seat did (y/n) lift her eyes, freezing as an unfamiliar voice spoke up behind her, making goosebumps rise on her skin. 

“Good evening, (y/n). It’s finally time for the last round of our game.” 

[imagining-in-the-margins]

hi!! do you have any fic recs for non-bau!reader x spencer? i’m not too picky just would love to read about navigating a domestic relationship with an agent while being entirely NOT in that field! so maybe something fluffy (but never opposed to smutty). thank you in advanced 🧚‍♀️

Hey friend! I've compiled most of my Civilian!Reader fics here, although I will say not a lot of them focus on the difficulties navigating the job. For that, you'll find the most luck with my two most popular series below. Otherwise, it's a somewhat eclectic group of fics, which I hope you can still enjoy ❤️

If anyone has any favorite fics that the anon might be interested in, please share them in the comments or reblogs! Self-promotion is always welcome!

S.R. Series (NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI)

The Birds & The Bees (ongoing series): Prof!Spencer, Virgin!Reader. Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.

Here to Misbehave (completed series): Spencer meets a girl he can’t get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.

S.R. SFW Oneshots

Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Defining Family: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

Devil’s Advocate: Spencer’s been hooking up with the defense attorney in secret. At some point what was purely physical turned into something else.

Fairytales: Spencer comes home to his very tired wife and even more tired child who refused to go to bed without a bedtime story from their dad.

Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Haunted: Spencer’s never told anyone what happened in prison.

Growing Pains: Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry. When he confronts his wife, he learns it belongs to their teenage daughter.

Intentions: Spencer’s teenage daughter wants to have a conversation with you about your intentions with her father.

It’s Personal: Reader reminds Spencer’s team that it’s never appropriate to ask someone for their age, even if they’re dating their coworker.

Java Jive: Spencer and Emily take a break at the local coffee shop and she makes an understandable mistake about barista Reader and Spencer’s relationship.

Kitten Love: Spencer’s vet begrudgingly agrees to an emergency house call.

Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.

Not Your Backup: Spencer and JJ argue about her jealousy of his girlfriend.

Quid Pro Quo: Spencer is entranced by the law student in his class.

Rib Cage: Spencer realizes Reader is the one, but it might be too late. He has to find her.

Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.

Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.

The Perfect Plan: Reader has a question for Spencer, but things don’t go according to plan.

The Prodigy Path: At a parent teacher conference, Spencer and Reader explain their seemingly unorthodox parenting style.

S.R. SFW Blurbs

At Ease: Spencer comes home to his partner and finds them still asleep.

Birthday Wish: Spencer is sad he can’t reach you on his birthday.

Favorite Person: Reader just needs a little extra reassurance sometimes.

S.R. NSFW Oneshots (18+, MINORS DNI)

Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

Blush: Spencer finds something surprising in his girlfriend’s sock drawer after he’s released from prison.

Cupid & Psyche: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.

Devil in the Backseat: Reader is a little too much (and Spencer's into it).

Get Lucky: It’s 3AM and a pipe burst in Reader’s apartment. She is soaked, angry, and forgot her wallet and phone. Her neighbor Spencer tries his best to make the night not terrible.

I Like It Like That: Spencer is jealous after a rowdy party.

Kiss ’n Tell: Reader gets drunk on a night out with the girls and accidentally mimics her boyfriend’s habit of oversharing.

My Boss’s Daughter: Spencer’s fling with his boss’s daughter is definitely going to get him fired.

Relief in Regrets: Spencer turns to his ex-girlfriend in a time of need.

Rewrapped: Reader tries to be cheeky, but regrets it a little too late to do anything about it.

Rodeo Show: Spencer and Reader weren’t planning on having an audience that morning.

Schrödinger’s Relationship (Part 1, Part 2): Reader finds out Spencer has been dating a kind and cute woman (when he’s not spending the night at her house).

Study Session: Spencer really hates his student, but he can’t resist her.

Vienna: Spencer is a bona fide 40-year-old virgin. After a few months of dating Reader, he finally decides he wants to change that.

Yellow Light: Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?

Happy reading!

[persephonewritessometimes]

me and the devil / unsub!hotch x reader / chapter three

Summary: Hotch has wormed his way into Y/N's life, much to her surprise. What happens when she lets him see the darkness in her? Will he return the favor?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 8557 (i got a little carried away)

Warnings: HARASSMENT, MENTIONS OF M*RDER, Y/N TALKS ABOUT K*LLING SOMEONE (in self-defense), HOTCH TALKING ABOUT M*RDER, DARK!HOTCH, BLEEDING, KNIFE WOUND, STITCHES, MEDICAL INSTRUMENTS, strip club, cursing, Derek being a cheeky bastard, pilates (not sure if this should be a warning but putting it here just in case), hotch being pushy, stubborn!Y/N, stubborn!hotch, flirting, reid get's propositioned

Key: y/n = your name

Author's Note: I apologize for the slow pace at first, I have to lay the foundations of the story! Also apologies for the long chapter, I just had a lot I wanted in this one!

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

I had just come through the door after a very long day at clinical when my phone started to ring. I cursed, dropped my clinical bag on the floor, and almost tripped over Cujo in the process. Where’s my damn phone? I’m digging through my bag then remember that I shoved it into one of my backpack pockets. I rip my backpack off and open the zipper pouch, not even checking the caller ID. It’s probably Tia, she’s really the only one who calls me anyway, usually wanting to tell me about her shitty boyfriend.

“It’s Y/N, what’s up bitch?”

“Do you answer the phone like this every time?” Hotch’s dry voice stops me dead in my tracks.

“Oh my god, Hotch, um, no I thought you were one of my friends. She’s usually the one calling me.”

“Don’t you have caller ID?”

“Yes, but you have horrible timing. I just got home and nearly landed on my face trying to get my phone out of my backpack.” He chuckles and my stomach flutters. “What can I help you with today, Agent Hotchner?”

“Are you busy right now?”

“Well, that depends. I have pilates in thirty minutes but you’re more than welcome to join me.” I say, knowing full well he won’t take me up on the offer.

“I’m down for pilates. Where is it?” My brain short circuits a little bit.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Where do you do pilates?”

“You? Want to come to the pilates class? With me?”

“Why not? I’ve been cooped up in my office all day.”

“Um, sure.” I give him the address of my favorite gym. “Oh, and the air conditioning is always on the fritz so dress light.” Seeing him drop off the car for me the other day made me horny enough, with him in a tight quarter-zip and jeans, I can’t imagine what seeing him in workout clothes will do to me.

“Got it. I’ll see you there.” The line goes dead, and I stare at my phone for a few minutes trying to understand what just happened.

“Okay. I’m a little confused, but I’ll take it.” I mutter to myself as I put my backpack away, shove my clinical bag in the closet, and head back to the bedroom. I shimmy out of my scrubs, tossing them in my hamper before digging through my drawer of workout clothes. I usually just throw on whatever is on top and call it a day, but now I’m pulling everything out. Y/N, he’s literally seen you in next to nothing and in sweats, it doesn’t matter what you wear to pilates.

I settle on a sky-blue matching cropped tank and shorts and rush into the bathroom to fix my hair before I slip on a pair of shoes, kiss Cujo on the head, and I’m out the door. I jog down the stairs to the car he’s loaning me – he told me it’s decommissioned, but it’s still a black-tinted SUV and draws a lot of attention. I feel like a badass every time I drive it, and also that I might accidentally take out an unsuspecting mailbox.

I hear a low whistle and I see one of my downstairs neighbors, Max, approach with his hands on his hips.

“Who’d you have to blow to get that ride?” He says, grinning at me.

“Would you believe me if I said no one?” I shoot back.

“Not in a million years. Looks military-grade, like the cars they have at the FBI headquarters.” I watch as the gears start to turn in his head, and I just smile at him sweetly. “Wait a minute. Is this an FBI car?”

“A woman never kisses and tells.” I say, turning to walk to the driver’s side and shout over my shoulder, “It’s been decommissioned!”

“Who gave that to you?” He shouts.

“Doesn’t matter! I’m just borrowing it!”

“Can I meet him?”

“Hell no!” I get in the car and slam the door shut, buckling my seat belt. The gym I like is only five or six minutes from my apartment and I make it there in no time. I check my hair in the car mirror, messing with it until I’m satisfied, before sliding out of the giant SUV. I’m locking the car when a matching black SUV pulls into a spot a few down from me. I try to swallow my grin as I stroll over to Hotch’s car, and when he gets out my mouth goes dry. I knew he was muscular under that suit, but god damn he’s hot. He’s in a black tank top and black shorts and I want to do some not-very-pure things to him.

“Hey!” I say, kind of out of breath and I curse myself for it.

“Hey to you too.” He shoots me a disarming smile, and I turn and start to walk to the entrance. "Is now a good time to tell you I’ve never done pilates before?”

“Well, don’t come crying to me when you’re in pain tomorrow,” I say, and grin at him. I push open the door and swing right towards the stairs. “You’ll probably be the only guy in class, so I apologize in advance if everyone’s ogling you.” I wink at him, and he laughs.

“Got it. How hard can pilates be anyway?” He says, and I laugh at that, someone joining in at the top of the stairs. It’s Lily, the pilates instructor.

“Famous last words, my new friend,” Lily says when we get to the top of the stairs.

“What’s the AC status today, Lily?”

“Lukewarm air, so you’re gonna sweat, sorry.” I groan and Hotch and I follow her into the large room. I grab a mat by the door, and Hotch follows suit.

“Do you want to be in the front, middle, or back?” I ask, motioning at the space. There are only a couple of people here so far, so we have our pick of spots.

“Front. So I can see what the instructor is doing.”

“Smart choice.” We make our way to the front and lay out our mats. I immediately slide off my shoes and start stretching. I sit with my legs out in front of me and stretch toward them, folding gracefully. I flex my feet a couple of times as I’m bent over and then come back up, stretching my arms as I go. Hotch follows suit, stretching as well and before we know it the class has filled up and it’s time to begin. I can hear them whispering about them, the two girls behind us. They’re not as subtle as they think they are. I glance at Hotch and mutter, “Well, it looks like you’ve already got two admirers,” and minutely jerk my head in their direction. He just grins at me and shrugs and I roll my eyes at him.

Lily starts off slow, but by the middle of the class, Hotch is trying very hard to conceal his panting.

“Not so easy now, is it?” I say, shooting him a smirk. He glares at me and says,

“Shut up.”

“You’re not doing too bad.” I say, easily shifting to the next pose while he struggles, and I add, “At least, for a beginner.” He glares at me again and I just smile at him. When the class is finished, he flops down on his mat, chest heaving, and shirt soaked with sweat. It clings to his sculpted chest, and I realize I’m staring. I shift my gaze away, busying myself with stretching out instead. I finish stretching and Hotch is still lying there, breathing hard. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?” I ask, sweetly, and I hear Lily laugh. He scowls, pushing himself up and looking at me.

“You’re barely sweating, how is that possible.” He mutters.

“Well, I do this three times a week. Sometimes four.”

“YOU DO THIS THREE OR FOUR TIMES A WEEK? What are you a masochist?”

“Fuck around and you might find out,” I say, winking at him, and I swear the flush on the back of his neck isn’t just from the workout.

He catches his breath a few minutes later and stretches out as I pull my shoes back on. I roll up my map, tuck it under my arm and make my way to the back of the class, putting it away. A second mat thuds next to mine a few moments later and I can feel him behind me, his body heat radiating off of him.

“So, the final verdict on pilates?” I ask over my shoulder as we make our way out of the room, and he falls in step beside me.

“Hard. But good.”

“Not a man of many words, I see.” He chuckles at that.

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” I almost fall down the steps at that, and my hand grips the railing. He must read my response as negative when I’m really trying to get my breathing under control because the idea of spending time alone with him has me sweating. “I’m not expecting anything, I just want to get to know you better. You keep me on my toes – you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“And that’s a good thing?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s a very good thing.” He gives me a small smile. I’m quiet for a moment before saying,

“I would love to get dinner with you, but I really want to change my clothes and take a quick shower, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. I’ll just hang out with Cujo.” I laugh at that.

“Cujo would love to hang out with you.” We part ways at the door, and I get into my borrowed car and drive home with him trailing close behind me. I unlock the door and let him into my apartment, Cujo running up to Hotch first, instead of me. “Traitor,” I mutter at him, and I can hear Hotch chuckle behind me. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll only be fifteen minutes or so.”

“Take all the time you want. I don’t mind waiting.” I make my way back to my bedroom and I’m struggling to decide what to wear when I hear his voice call to me.

“Hey, Y/N, what if we just get Chinese delivered instead?”

“Fine by me, I have a menu for the local place on my fridge. My favorite dish is circled if you want to go ahead and call it in.” I holler back. That makes my decision on what to wear a lot easier, I pull out a big T-shirt and a pair of gray joggers. I grab a pair of underwear and fuzzy socks and walk into the bathroom, rid myself of my sweaty exercise clothes, and turn on a hot stream of water. I can hear Hotch’s voice through the door ordering food, and I smile to myself as I step into the scalding water. I scrub my body efficiently and am done within ten minutes. I turn off the shower, step out on my bathmat, and dry my body off. I slip into the clothes I picked out, give myself a once-over in the mirror, and walk out of the bathroom. He’s on the couch with Cujo’s head in his lap when I emerge. I suddenly feel self-conscious in my lounge clothes, but I swallow it down. This man has seen me in next to nothing, an old t-shirt and joggers aren’t going to erase scandalous pictures of me inside his head. I settle on the couch opposite him, tucking my feet up under me and my hair behind my ears.

“Seriously, though, how can do pilates and still look angelic at the end of it?” He asks, leaning his head against the couch and looking at me. I feel the tips of my ears grow hot at his half-compliment.

“Lots of practice. And self-discipline.” He furrows his brows.

“Do you not like doing pilates?”

“I like the endorphins, but I mostly do it to look my best for the club. You’d be surprised how much of my paycheck goes to maintenance: waxing, hair care, the gym, makeup, outfits, and shoes. Yeah, I make a lot of money, but I’ve had to make myself valuable to get to that point.” He nods, and I can see him thinking really hard.

“Do you like dancing?” He finally asks.

“Nobody really ever asks me that,” I say, and pause, “I like the money. I like the attention, which I know sounds bad, but it feels good to feel desired. I like Tia, my friend I met because of dancing. But dancing as a whole? I’m not sure. There are a lot of pros, but there are also a lot of cons. Men who don’t understand boundaries, men who expect more than just a lap dance and pretty smile, men who think they own you. I don’t like that.” I watch his jaw clench at that. “I can take care of myself pretty well, but dancing can be very isolating. After all, who wants to date someone who literally takes her top off as a job?” I laugh a little, but it comes out short and harsh.

“Well, if someone doesn’t want to date you because of that, that’s their problem, and they’re wrong for not seeing you separate from your occupation.” He says and strokes his hand over Cujo’s head. Cujo lets out a heavy sigh and we both laugh at that, and it lightens the mood. There’s a sharp rap on the door and I get up and open it to see the delivery guy – it’s James, one of Tia’s regulars.

         “James! How are you?”

         “Good! Whoever bought you food tonight tipped me handsomely, so please thank your new boy toy for that.” He says, handing the food over. I peek my head around the door and Hotch just smiles and shrugs. I narrow my eyes at him but bid James a good night before shutting the door.

         “How much did you tip him?”

         “Doesn’t matter.”

         “Mhmm,” I say and take the paper containers out of the plastic bag. It smells so good as I set the food on the coffee table and my mouth starts to water. “What did you order?”

         “Shrimp Lo Mein.” He says, reaching forward and grabbing a container labeled with an “S” on it. I grab my container of orange chicken and open the vegetable fried rice.

         “Do you want a plate for the fried rice?”

         “I wouldn’t mind one if it’s not a bother.” I set my container down and walk to the kitchen, pulling down two mismatched plates.

         “Do you need a fork or are you proficient in chopsticks?”

         “I’m proficient in chopsticks.” He says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

         “Well, that makes one of us,” I say and walk back to the living room, handing him a plate. We divide up the fried rice and I settle back on the couch. We make small talk as we eat, but it’s not awkward. It feels like we’ve known each other forever. He asks me about being in school, and what I’m doing in my clinical, and I in turn ask him about his cases (which he claims he can’t tell me much about, but I know he’s taking some liberties with that as I do get more than a handful of details about his latest case). We finish our food and set our plates on the coffee table, and he says,

         “Oh, that reminds me. My team has been asking about you since our run-in with them at the bar last week, and Morgan finally conceded and agreed to be their chauffeur for the club. They’re coming tomorrow night, just giving you a heads up.” He scratches the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed.

         “And will their Section Chief be in attendance as well?” I ask coyly and watch as the tips of his ears turn pink.

         “Well, someone has to keep an eye on them.” He says but won’t look me in the eyes.

         “That’s good to hear. And tomorrow is fantasy night at the club, so it’ll be a different setting than you’re used to, different clothes as well.”

         “Isn’t everything about going to a strip club a ‘fantasy’?” He says, miming air quotes on the last word. I laugh.

         “Yes, you’re correct, but this is like witches, elves, princesses, pirates, all of that sort. We started it a few months ago, and if I’m remembering correctly, you haven’t attended one.”

         “Keeping an eye on me, are you?” The room suddenly feels stuffy.

         “Just staying aware of my surroundings, especially of men who seem to stare at me.” I shoot back, grinning, and he holds his hands up in mock defeat.

         “So, what’s your costume?”

         “I usually go as an elven princess. I’ve got fake ears and everything.” He chuckles at that. “And I typically wear a white wig with bangs.”

         “Sounds like quite the getup.”

         “People love it, I make a lot of money on fantasy nights. My friend, Tia, the one you’ve seen, always goes as a mushroom fairy.”

         “What the hell is a mushroom fairy?” He looks genuinely confused.

         “You’ll see tomorrow,” I say with a laugh. We continue talking late into the night, and we jump from one topic to the next with ease. It’s nearing midnight when he suddenly grows serious and says,

         “Tell me your deepest secret.” I blink a few times in surprise.

         “Well, Mr. Hotchner, that’s a very serious question for a first, whatever-this-is,” I say jokingly, but I know he can tell I’m deflecting.

         “I’m just curious. There’s a lot I don’t know about you. A lot I’d like to know about you. If you’ll let me learn.”

         “And there’s a lot I’m sure you don’t want to know,” I mutter, and he just watches me. Finally, I concede with a sigh and whisper, “Sometimes I worry that I’m not a good person. That I’m there’s something twisted and evil inside of me, just waiting for the right opportunity to snap.”

         “Snap and do what?” It’s a non-judgmental question and I’m grateful for it.

         “I don’t know, but sometimes I’m afraid of the violence I feel inside of me.”

         “I understand that.”

         “You do?” I ask quickly, glancing at him.

         “More than you know. Thank you for telling me that.” It’s quiet, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I blurt out the next sentence quickly.

         “I killed a man once.” His hand stills from petting Cujo but resumes quickly. I can feel his eyes on me as I stare at my hands and pick at my cuticles. “A few weeks into working at the club, a man started to take a special interest in me. He started to request dances, and then private rooms where he would say horrible things and try to get me to do things that aren’t allowed. Then he started to threaten me when I told him no, saying he knew where I lived, and that he was going to kill me and my dog. I didn’t know what to do. I told my boss and she just made other girls dance for him, never really kicking him out or anything. After what happened, we now have tighter security, and my old boss was fired for negligence. I always rejected his advances, desperate to find someone else to service. One night, it was really late when I came home, and as I was unlocking my door, I was grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground. It was him. He pulled out a hunting knife and advanced toward me. I scrambled back and as he approached, I kicked him in the crotch, really hard. He dropped the knife, and in a mad scramble for it, he pinned me to the ground, hands around my throat, intent on choking the life out of me. I had almost lost consciousness when I felt the edge of the hunting knife. I was able to slide it towards me and grab it. Without thinking, I slit his throat and he bled out on top of me. The court dismissed it, due to the fact that it was self-defense.” I collect my thoughts for a few seconds, then add, “Sometimes, late at night, I think about that moment and the power that I felt. He thought he was the one to be afraid of, but it was me all along. That’s why I’m afraid of myself. I have no idea what I’m capable of.” I pause and look at him. I’ve never told anyone that story except for Tia. He has a very contemplative look on his face but doesn’t say anything. “I understand if you don’t want to continue whatever this is, anymore,” I say with a dry laugh and glance away. I feel his warm, calloused hand grab mine, and he squeezes it.

         “Nothing you say could scare me away, Y/N. I’ve seen and killed evil people, and I can tell you, you aren’t one of them.” My throat closes up and he has a sincere look on his face when I finally look at him.

         “Thank you,” I whisper, then clear my throat, “Now it’s your turn, what’s your deepest darkest secret?”

         “Well, mine’s along the same line as yours. I killed the man who murdered my wife.”

         I nod and rationalize it, “Well, he can’t hurt anyone else close to you if he’s dead. Good riddance, I say.” I throw in at the end, trying to lighten the mood, and he obliges me, tipping his head back in a laugh.

         “Good riddance indeed.”

         I don’t remember falling asleep, but I shift awake when I feel a blanket draped over me.

         “Huh?” I mutter, blinking slowly. “Oh, hi, sorry, did I fall asleep?” I whisper to Hotch, who’s standing over me.

         “Just for twenty minutes or so. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.”

         “It’s okay,” I reply, smiling up at him. “I guess I’ll see you out? Thanks for hanging out with me.” I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. Cujo is passed out on the couch beside me, and he doesn’t wake as Hotch helps me up. I walk over to the door, unlock it, and lean against it. “Well, I’ll see you,” I check my phone, “Tonight, I guess.” I give him a sheepish smile.

         “I’ll see you tonight.” He kisses my cheek and jogs down the stairs. I watch him leave, then lock the door. The food containers are gone from the coffee table, and the plates have been rinsed off and are sitting in the sink. I smile to myself as I open the fridge, and sure enough, my leftovers are sitting right on the middle shelf. I brush my teeth and fill up Cujo’s food bowl before getting into bed.

         It’s well past 1:00 PM when I finally force myself to get out of bed. I sit on the edge for a few minutes and collect myself, remembering that Hotch was over last night. I can’t believe I told him that. He didn’t need to know that about you. I scold myself. He’s a federal agent, Y/N, he’s probably done much worse than what you did. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s like he only lets me see so much, but despite that, I can feel that dark thrum from him, it’s something dangerous, akin to the feeling I had about him during the first meeting. He’s hiding something, and I’m desperate to find out what he thinks I can’t handle. I sigh and rub my eyes, Cujo sprawled across my bed and breathing heavily. I finally shuffle to the kitchen and make a slice of toast with strawberry jam, eating it over the sink, not wanting to dirty a plate. My phone starts to ring, and I walk back to the room to grab it. This time I check the caller ID, and I’m a little disappointed to see it's only Tia.

         “Hey bitch, what’s up?” I ask, wedging the phone in between my shoulder and ear as I dig through my closet to find my fantasy outfit. We only have fantasy night once a month, so I keep my outfit wedged in the back of my closet so as to not take up what little space I actually have in there.

         “I came by your apartment last night to hang out, and can you imagine my surprise when I saw you and your man get out of matching cars and head up to your apartment? When were you gonna tell me about that?”

         “It’s not like that! We were just hanging out and eating some dinner. Tia, he came to pilates with me!”

         “I’m sorry, a man willingly went to pilates with you?”

         “Yes!”

         “Did he almost die?”

         “You know it. It was so funny; I was holding in a laugh so hard.” Tia laughs at that. “I’m sorry for not telling you. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

         “I’m just giving you a hard time. So did you fuck?” She asks the question so nonchalantly and I choke on air.

         “TIA! NO, WE DIDN’T!” I exclaim. “Jesus.”

         “What? I’m just curious.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

         “He’s coming to the club tonight. With his whole team. He said they keep asking about me. Remember I ran into them a week ago at the bar?”

         “Ah yes, after your man heroically saved you from that group of men.”

         “Stop calling him that! He’s not my man! And I’m the one who threatened to beat the shit out of them, Hotch was my backup, remember?”

         “Okay, Black Widow, whatever. He’s coming tonight? On fantasy night? That man is going to be on his knees for you.”

         “You flatter me.” I snort.

         “We’re seriously getting the whole Behavioral Analysis Unit in the club tonight?”

         “Yes, but don’t tell them I told you about them. You already know about Derek, but I swear these people can read you like you’re an open book.”

         “Noted. What did you and Hotch talk about?”

         “Nothing really, just chatted.”

         “Yeah, sure. And how long was he over at your apartment?” I go quiet at that. “That’s what I thought. All I’m saying is, get your bag, get your mans, and get the hell out. I don’t care how many people you have to step on to do it, me included. I’ve seen the way he watches you; he would do anything for you if you simply asked.”

         “Tia, now you’re reading into things. Last time I checked, you’re not a profiler.”

         “I’m a dancer. That’s just as good, you forget that we know how to read people too. Use it to your advantage.” I finally find my outfit in the back of the closet and pull it out, throwing it onto the bed.

         “You’re talking like I’m going to war, not getting a boyfriend.”

         “Well, hopefully, you’ll be getting a husband.”

         “Tia! God! We’ve hung out once! We’re not getting married!”

         “You say that now. I’ll ask again a few months from now and see where you’re standing.”

         “I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you later.” I end the call and toss my phone onto the bed. I groan. Tia can be up to no good a lot of the time, but I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. All she can talk about is how Hotch looks at me, and believe me, I’ve noticed that myself.

         I busy myself with homework for the next few hours; I’ve got a big test next week and I really want to do well on it. I heat up the leftover Chinese food midafternoon and eat it, still studying. I take Cujo on a walk closer to 4:00 PM and then gather all my stuff to get ready at the club. I kiss Cujo on his nose before carrying my bag and outfit to the car. I drive to work, parking closer to the entrance than normal. I’m not taking any chances after being followed last week.

         Tia’s already inside getting ready – her fantasy night looks are always extravagant and take a lot of time to put together, so she always shows up earlier than me. She’s halfway through her makeup when I sit down next to her and dig around for my makeup bag. I find my primer and get to work. I go with a dark eye with gold winged eyeliner, dramatic lashes, and black lipstick. Tia helps me get my wig on and secured, and then I put my fake elf ears on and slip into my dress. Tia buckles my shoes for me, and I glance at myself in the mirror and grin. I’ve always loved fantasy nights – a night where I can pretend to be someone else for a few hours. I look every bit like the dark-elven fantasy I’m trying to capture. I wait for Tia to finish her makeup and we chat; it only takes her fifteen more minutes and then I help her into her baby doll dress that she hand-painted to look like a red mushroom.

         “There you go, my little mushroom fairy,” I say, patting her on the shoulders when I finish zipping up her dress. She does a little twirl for me, and I laugh. “Come on, let’s get out there and make some money.” We make our way into the club and it’s starting to fill up quickly. I don’t have any stage sets tonight, due to my dress being a little longer than usual. I fidget, nervously adjusting the gold caps on my cape as I survey the crowd. Tia’s already run off somewhere, so I’m alone.

         “Look at you, baby girl!” I hear from my left and I let out a sigh of relief when I turn to see Morgan approaching me with a grin on his face.

         “Morgan! It’s so good to see you. Hotch said you and the team would be here tonight.”

         “Hanging out with Hotch, are you?” My cheeks grow hot at the insinuation. “Just messing with you. God knows Hotch needs some loosening up. Do you know how many times I had to ask him to come here with me? I asked for months. When he finally conceded, all it took was one look at you for him to ask me to come back with him.” My jaw drops a little bit. Morgan just winks at me, offering up his arm. “Want to come and talk to the team?”

         “Lead the way, Agent Morgan,” I say, and he chuckles. We walk towards the back left corner of the club, and sure enough, the team is commandeering an entire table. Penelope shrieks when she sees me, jumping out of her seat and rushing over to grab me in a hug.

         “You look like someone straight out of a fantasy game! You’re stunning! I’m literally obsessed with you.” She speaks quickly, smiling at me.

         “Thank you,” I reply and give her a small smile. JJ and Emily echo her sentiments. I feel suddenly shy as I turn to Hotch. “Well, what do you think?” I say low enough so only he can hear as I approach him.

         “You look like an evil queen. I like it.” My cheeks grow hot, and I glance down.

         “I need to go make some money, I’ll be back though, I promise,” I say to the whole team. “Please, enjoy yourself!” And with that, I make my way into the dense crowd.

         I’m true to my word. I’m back an hour later and eight hundred dollars richer. I take note of Hotch’s body language as I approach. He sits up straighter, eyes always following me. God damn it, Tia’s right, we are profilers…kind of. He looks me over like he’s assessing for damage, or he just wants to look his fill. I approach him, and lean down to whisper in his ear,

         “Can I sit in your lap? There are not really any open chairs here.” I glance at him, and he nods, shifting so I can sit in his lap. I feel the whole team pause for a split second, then continue their conversation, trying really hard not to stare. It gives me the opportunity to whisper in his ear, “I’m feeling generous, so I won’t make you pay for this.” He lets out a loud laugh at that and the table grows quiet again before quickly picking back up.

         “Thanks for sparing my wallet.” He murmurs in my ear, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. This is the closest we’ve been since that first meeting when I laid him out. I lean back and rest my back on his broad chest before joining in on the team’s conversation. They’re currently trying to figure out how many times Dr. Reid, whom I just met, is going to get propositioned. I laugh at this.

         “How many times has it been so far?”

         “Three!” Morgan exclaims, “Unbelievable!”

         “Not really. You’d be surprised how many girls prefer nerdy guys over, hmm, muscle head men like you, Derek?” I say with a smirk, quirking an eyebrow at him. Emily laughs at this, and JJ even smiles into her drink.

         “Aren’t you going to fawn over Dr. Reid as well, Y/N?” Hotch whispers in my ear. I twist my head back to look at him before simply saying,

         “He’s not my type.” I wink at him, turning back around and the team busies themselves with not looking at us. At that moment, I see a man making his way towards us. “Oh, fuck, come on!” I groan. The team looks confused, so I elaborate quickly. “The man that’s approaching kept trying to get handsy with me earlier. His hand literally tried to go up my skirt.” I feel Hotch stiffen underneath me, a hand coming to rest on my hip.

         “Hey, why’d you leave?” He says, coming up to the table, oblivious to the federal agents – one whose lap I was literally sitting in.

         “I got bored. Please leave me alone, I’m with someone right now.” The man looks Hotch over, and I feel his grip tighten on me.

         The man snorts. “Yeah, right. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you what a real man is like.” Hotch’s anger is rolling off of him in waves.

         “If you keep bothering me, I’m going to get security and have them kick you out. You already tried to grope me; they would love to kick you out just for that.”

         “Fucking bitch.” The man says, lunging forward and grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of Hotch’s lap, but he isn’t too far behind, and as I trip over my shoe, he’s quick to catch me, his arm slinging low around my waist.

         “Leave her alone or you’ll regret it.” His tone is dangerously low, and I know if I were to look into his eyes right now, they would only show the promise of violence, not the man who always laughs at my jokes.

         “I’ll get a hold of you eventually, bitch.” The man spats, finally letting go of my wrist and he shoots Hotch and me a hateful glare as he retreats into the crowd. I massage my wrist, holding it close to my chest. Hotch turns me around, taking my wrist into his hand.

         “Does it hurt?”

         “A little bit. Doesn’t feel broken though, so I’ll be okay. It’ll probably just bruise.” His gaze darkens at that.

         “Are you okay?” He asks quietly, eyes searching mine. I just nod and he takes a seat again, making room for me. I step over on shaky legs from the adrenaline and position myself in Hotch’s lap again. He starts absentmindedly tracing patterns onto my thigh, and my mind narrows down to the feeling of his hand on my leg. I know he’s just trying to calm me down after the confrontation, but I feel like I’m manually breathing as he continues, before quickly remembering who else is at this table. I calm my breathing, forcing myself to talk to them when talking to anyone but Hotch is the last thing I want to do right now. If he’s aware of the effect he has on me, he doesn’t show it.

         Before I know it, an hour has passed, and I’m really enjoying talking to his team. They’re funny, and I find myself easily trusting them. I lean back to whisper to Hotch,

         “I’m gonna go and make more money.”

         “Will you be okay?”

         “I think you know I’m more than capable.” He grins at that.

         “Indeed, I do.” His hand retracts from my thigh, and I feel like I can breathe again. I slip out of his lap.

         “Where you off to, baby girl?”

         “To do my damn job, Morgan!” I shout over my shoulder and push my way back into the crowd.

         I just finished giving a lap dance to one of my regulars when I feel strong fingers grab my shoulder. I turn around, seeing who has the audacity to touch me that rudely and I’m face to face with the man from earlier. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he’s got me backed into a corner. To anyone else, this would just look like a more intimate moment, no one would suspect anything.

         “Get the fuck off of me!” I shout over the loud music.

         “You made me look bad, little girl. Now, you’re gonna pay for it.” He raises his hand to strike me, and I’m pinned in the corner, with no room to move. I brace myself for the blow that never comes. I open my eyes and see that Hotch’s large hand has closed around the man’s wrist. He pulls, hard, and the man goes flying back and lands on his ass.

         “I told you to leave her alone.” He growls, and many eyes are starting to watch us. Hotch starts to advance on the man, nothing kind left in his eyes. I rush up and grab his bicep.

         “Hotch. Not here. This is not the time or place to make a scene.” I hiss. “I’m fine.” He won’t stop. “Hotch. Look at me, I’m fine.” I squeeze his arm, hard. The last thing we need in the club is an incident. He finally turns and looks at me. “I’m fine. Let’s just get security and have them kick him out, okay? I don’t need you getting kicked out too because you beat this man into a bloody pulp.” He just nods, jaw clenched tight, and I run to get security. They quickly kick the man out, telling him he’s no longer welcome in this establishment. He looks pissed, but not as pissed as Hotch, and frankly, he should be more afraid of Hotch than anyone else at this present moment. If looks could kill, that man would be dead in a heartbeat. When the man is firmly out the door, Hotch turns and grabs my face in his hands, searching it. “See? I told you, I’m fine. I thought for sure you were gonna shoot him.”

         “I wanted to.” He finally grumbled. The first words he’s said to me since the altercation.

         “You scared the shit out of me, Hotch. I thought you were going to murder him.” I say, looking up at him. And I can see it in his eyes – just how deep the darkness goes. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of fear in my body, as if my darkness acknowledges him and welcomes him in. What secrets are you hiding, Aaron Hotchner?

         Finally satisfied that I’m okay, he grabs my hand and leads me back to the table.

         “Morgan, are they still teaching that self-defense class this weekend?” He asks, his voice clipped.

         “Hotch.”

         “Yeah, 11:00 AM at the recreation field, why?”

         “Y/N will be there.”

         “Hotch,” I say again, yanking on his hand. “I can take care of myself.”

         “And I would feel better if you attended the self-defense class.” He shoots back. Neither of us budges for a few seconds, just two stubborn people staring each other down before I sigh.

         “Fine. I’ll do it.” Hotch nods, pleased. I narrow my eyes at him.

         “Lover’s quarrel?” Morgan jabs and Hotch shoots him a glare so harsh that he holds his hands up in mock defeat. “Forget I asked,” he mutters.

         “Keep an eye on her. I have some business to attend to.” He shoots me a look as if to not ask questions, and there’s a glint in his gaze, something hard and unyielding, and I just nod. I’m not sure if I want to know what he’s about to do, but the less I know the better. He turns and leaves.

         “What the hell happened?” Emily asks, and I recount the incident to them and they all grimace. “Is this a common occurrence with your occupation?” She asks kindly, not judgmental at all.

         “You’d be surprised, but things like this don’t happen all that often. There are a few outliers here and there, but people are respectful for the most part.” My mind flashes back to that night, and I push it quickly out. Now is not the time to be thinking about that. “They’re typically whipped into shape when they get threatened the first time.”

         “And the more persistent ones?” I grin.

         “They get kicked out. Sometimes I like to kick out the ones who are harassing me. It’s very emasculating to be talked down to by a woman and then kicked out on your ass. I enjoy it. But I only do it to the guys I deem as not dangerous.” JJ looks sick to her stomach and Dr. Reid looks appalled, but Morgan just grins.

         “No wonder Hotch likes you; you have as much fire in your veins as he does.” I laugh and it lightens the mood. I talk with them for a few more minutes before saying, “I think I’m actually gonna call it a night, I’ve made enough. Thanks for coming you guys. I’d love to hang out with you all again.” The girls all give me a hug and bid me goodnight. I pass Tia on my way back to the locker room and she waves at me from someone’s lap. I wave back, grab my stuff, and walk to my car. I drive home, radio off, just spending some time in my own head. I park and head into my apartment, Cujo greeting me at the door like always. I fall into my routine quietly, eating a late-night snack as I undress, unpin my wig, and use a makeup wipe to get my makeup off. I take a long shower, needing to decompress after tonight. I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas when there’s a knock at my door. It’s 3:00 AM, and no one should be knocking on my door. I quickly grab my gun from the ottoman, holding it in my dominant hand. My peephole has been warped for ages now, distorting the image of whoever is outside of my door. I rip open the door, holding the gun up.

         “JESUS HOTCH!” I shout, then realize he’s wounded. I click the safety on and toss the gun on my entryway table. “What the fuck? Get inside!” He walks inside, teeth grinding as he holds his hand to his arm. “What the hell happened to you?” I say, peeling his hand away from his arm quickly. His shirt is stained red. I swear again. “Sit on the couch. And don’t move.” I grab my clinical bag from the bedroom, dig around and find my gauze pads. “These aren’t the most sterile, but they’ll do.”

         “That’s fine.” His words are short, leaning back on the couch. I chuck a bottle of ibuprofen at him, and he catches it easily, opens it, and swallows four pills dry.

         “What the fuck, Hotch. Showing up on my door at three in the morning bleeding? Who does that? That’s what a hospital is for!” I’m rambling in my panic.

         “I know, I’m sorry.”

         “Take off your shirt, I need to assess the damage. His arm is stiff as he attempts to remove his dress shirt. “Do I need to cut your shirt off you, idiot?” I ask and he just sighs and nods. I grab my scissors from my bag and make quick work of his dark blue shirt. Thank god he has a t-shirt on underneath it. “You have to take your hand away from the wound for me to assess it,” I say quietly, gently pulling his bloody hand away. I let out a low whistle. “Serrated hunting knife?” I ask.

         “How can you tell that?”

         “The way the skin ripped, it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking at. I can stitch it, but it’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

         “Do it.”

         “Are you gonna tell me how this happened?”

         “It’s better if you don’t know.” I pause my frantic digging through my bag and glance at him. He just looks back and I sigh, finally finding my suture kit.

         “Do you need something to bite down on?” I ask drily and he lets out a small laugh at that.

         “This isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched up on someone’s couch, and I doubt it’ll be the last. Go right ahead, sweetheart.”

         “Oh, so now you want to pull out a pet name when I’m stitching you up on my couch? You really know how to get women.” I mutter, stepping in between his legs. I rip open an alcohol wipe. “This is going to sting. I’ll be quick.” I press the alcohol wipe to his skin, and he hisses, hands coming to grab the backs of my knees. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m done.” I toss the alcohol wipe to the side. “Well, the bleeding has slowed, that’s good.” It’s only three inches long, but I’ve never done stitches on a real person before. “I’m really sorry if you end up with a scar after this. Are you sure you want me to do this? I’ll happily drive you to the hospital.” I’m stalling and he can tell.

         “I trust you. The hospital will ask even more questions than you do.” He adds with a half-smile.

         “Fair enough. If you need a break just tap my thigh. I’ll make it as quick as I can.” I unwrap the sterile needle and grab the needle driver. My hands shake but I take a deep breath and use the tissue forceps to expose the wound. It’s deep. I line up the edges of the wound and push the needle through his skin. His hands tighten on me, but he doesn’t tap out. I pull it until the thread is two to three inches long on the end, and tie three knots in the thread. I readjust the needle driver and push it through his skin again about a quarter inch down. I make quick work of the wound and he never asks for a break, just breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. I tie off the last stitch. “I didn’t do a bad job, but it’s not spectacular.” I say, stepping out from between his legs. He twists his head to look at the mostly straight line of stitches I’ve left.

         I grab the large Band-Aid I had pulled out earlier and unwrap it, gently placing it over his sutures. I then realize in my haste; I didn’t put on gloves. My hands are covered in his blood, staining them red.

         “You, uh, don’t have any blood diseases I should know about, do you?”

         “Nope, clean as a whistle.” I nod, retreating to the kitchen to wash my hands. I’m scrubbing them but some of the blood underneath my fingernails is stubborn. I try my best, then dry my hands with a paper towel. I walk back to the living room.

         “Do I want to know what you did to him?”

         “How did you?” I cut him off.

         “I can read people too. You’re not as subtle as you think you are. At least, not when I’m involved.”

         “He won’t hurt you again, I promise you that.” I decide to leave it at that, the man looks exhausted.

         “Is your son with your sister-in-law tonight?” He nods.

         “Come on, I’m not letting you leave until I know you’re okay.”

         “Y/N, I’m fine. I can drive home.”

         “If you’re making me take that damn self-defense class you can let me keep an eye on you for one night.” I snapped.

         “Fine.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not sure who’s the more stubborn one here.”

         “And we’re not about to start a pissing match and find out.” I cross my arms. “Let me get you some clothes.”

         “Y/N, you’ve done enough.”

         “Shut up and accept my generosity,” I mutter and walk back to the bedroom pulling out a pair of lounge pants and large flannel left behind by a shitty ex-boyfriend. “Now, do you need help getting dressed?” I ask sweetly, trying to irritate him. He shoots me a look that tells me I’m already in enough trouble for making him spend the night. “Jesus, okay. Someone’s not in a good mood.”

         I walk back into the bedroom to give him privacy to change. I give him a few minutes, petting Cujo as he lay in his dog bed.

         “You decent?” I call quietly and get a muffled yes in return. I walk back out into the living room, and he looks so comical that I can’t keep a smile off my face. “Okay, come on, I’m not letting an injured man sleep on my couch.”

         “Y/N, seriously, I’m fine.”

         “I’m not in the mood to argue, Hotch. Get your ass in bed before I drag you, okay?” He sighs but follows me back to the bedroom. “I sleep on the left side.”

         “Well, that’s good, because I sleep on the right side.” He gets into bed, grunting as he has to move his injured arm.

         “You better not die in the middle of the night, or else I’m gonna beat your ass in the afterlife,” I mutter, pulling the covers over me. “Here I was thinking it would be an easy night, but, no, someone had to show up bloody on the nursing student’s doorstep.”

         “I’m sorry. I understand if you’re mad at me.” He says quietly into the dark room. I sigh.

         “I’m not mad at you, Hotch. You just scared me, okay?” I admit. In just two weeks this man has seemingly wormed his way into every inch of my brain.

         “I’m sorry.”

         “Just don’t do it again.” I pause, “Or at least give me a warning next time.”

         “I’ll do that.” I hear his smile in the dark.

         “Goodnight, Hotch.”

         “Goodnight, Y/N.” I listen as his breathing deepens and he slips off into sleep. It’s a long time before I do the same.

-

chapter four - coming soon!

-

TAG LIST (want to be added? click here!): @iameternallylonely @morgthemagpie @mrs-ssa-hotch @angelmather1 @laubeck10

[beelmons]

Escapade 5

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader Rating: Explicit, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex, reader drinks a bit of alcohol. Summary: The case gets stuck, but Spencer is by your side to keep you going. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 / 3: Bonus | 4 | 5 | 6 A/N: this one doesn't have as much action ifykwim, mostly plot building, but bear with me, lots of action coming. Tag list: @punkndisorderrly @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @amywright

Ever heard the expression ‘do not speak ill of the dead’? One of the most misunderstood sayings in the english language, if you were to say so yourself. Through the many years of working in law enforcement, you had come to realize that all it took for the most heinous, horrendous, and evil crimes to go away in the minds of the people was no other than dying.

The interviews didn’t take you anywhere. Every agent was a god-sent angel in the eyes of their loved ones. No criminal record, no wrong-doings, model citizens if someone were to ask you. No additional disappearances or deaths, either, the UnSub had gone dormant, which meant two things: first, the good news, it indicated the possibility that your friend and the HR clerk were probably still alive. Second, for the bad part, without any more victims, getting new leads would be difficult, and the risk of the case going cold was greater.

—We need to go back to victimology. —Emily pointed out.

—If we go over victimology one more time, I will hand in my resignation. —Morgan answered— we have two bodies, no forensic evidence, no clear M.O. other than the deaths being sloppily staged as a suicide, and the only thing linking these people so far, it’s that they were all part of the same FBI academy class. 

—Okay, what about the profile? —JJ asked.

—We can only have a draft for now, the information we’ve got is not enough. —Rossi responded— We know it’s gotta be someone who is reckless or imbalanced, hence why he got kicked out of the academy, but smart enough to be admitted as a trainee in the first place. He has criminology knowledge, yet that can be easily explained by his time as a trainee. 25 to 35 years old. Underachiever. Narcissistic. Mission oriented…

—So, our average weirdo. —Penelope interrupted him, and Rossi nodded in disappointment.

Everyone’s spirit seemed to be down. Empty containers of chinese food laid on top of the round table mixed with files and gruesome crime scenes pictures. No one was paying attention anymore. Hotch decided to look at the time, it was close to midnight. It had been the third night in a row the team had put in the extra hours, not that it was anything out of the ordinary, but the burn out was evident.

—Alright, everyone, let’s go home. —the boss commanded.

—Hotch, we’re not any closer to finding these men. —the muscular man mentioned.

—We’re not doing ourselves any favors by exhausting our energy. Unfortunately, we won’t have much to go on until…

—Until another victim turns up? —you asked, your tone slightly accusatory.

—I understand it’s hard, but that’s usually how profiling works. —everyone shot you a look at his words, mostly trying to make sure you still felt okay. You simply sighed and shrugged the question off. Aaron kept staring to figure out your emotions, but given the time, and the fact that you were also exhausted, he decided it was better to not profile you— We’ll come in at 10, make sure to rest well, we’ll start fresh tomorrow and, hopefully, we’ll be able to see something new.

The team began to gather their belongings, and one by one gave you a reassuring pat on the back before they exited the building. Hotch and Reid were the only ones left while you were still on your desk, reluctantly putting your stuff in your bag to go home.

—Are you going down? —your boss asked, his briefcase already dangling from his hand, your best friend standing next to him.

—Uh, you can go ahead —you replied— I have to do something, but I’ll be right down. —with that said, you stood up and directed yourself to the bathroom. The two men exchanged puzzled glances and sighed in defeat.

You took your time staring at your own reflection. You looked like hell, gently put. You hadn’t slept much. Mixed feelings and thoughts haunting the possibility of unconsciousness every night since his disappearance. You knew it was their job, but the truth was that your team was working extra-hard to help you through it, and you hadn’t been exactly the most pleasant companion during the investigation. Your hostility towards Hotch was unfunded, his patience with you even more so, and you knew you would have to apologize later.

There was no use beating yourself over it now, but you just couldn’t go and rest while your friend’s body could turn up at any minute. You threw some cold water over your face to scare off the drowsiness and decided to head back to the round table. To your surprise, a familiar shape was already sitting on his usual spot during morning meetings.

—What are you still doing here, Reid? —you asked. His head immediately raised to meet your eyes with a faint smile.

—I knew you would stay behind. Figured you could use some company.

—Well, you could use some sleep.

—I had a very heavy dinner, the kitchen’s coffee pot is filled to the brim with espresso, and if I need a nap, I’ll just take Morgan’s couch. —his talking was fast, not allowing for you to interrupt him at any second, and once he was done, he signaled to the chair next to him which already had an open file before it.

You rolled your eyes at his persistence. However, you knew that deep down you were just trying to deflect the warmth that it spread to your chest, but at last you decided to obey his command. Within seconds, both of your heads were buried in FBI files. You decided to go back to victimology, and after an hour of rolling over it, you had come to the same conclusions as earlier that week. Frustrated, you threw the folder on the table, letting it shut close, and you leaned back on your chair, a loud huff leaving your lips as you stared at the ceiling.

—This was dumb, we’re not getting anywhere. Let’s just call it a night. —you spurted out in disappointment.

—Come on, we can still crack something new. —Spencer said without looking up from the paper he was reading.

—Perhaps these were just victims of opportunity. Nothing about this makes sense. The only person who sticks out is Conrad, and even so, he was just a DC police desk clerk, who would have a problem with him? —you continued to complain, part of it was directed to yourself, still angered that you hadn’t been able to figure it out. After seconds of silence, you realized Spencer hadn’t added anything to the conversation, and so you turned to look at him. To your surprise, he was already intently looking at your expression with pity written on his face, which took you aback— What?

—Nothing. It’s just… —he made a quick pause— I know you’re fond of him, but during the entire investigation you haven’t really mentioned him much.

He was right. You had refrained yourself from saying his name. You figured, maybe, if you held to the same hope the families did, if you kept him frozen in your memories, if you remembered him as your old friend, and not as a victim, he would remain as such, and the next day he would be safe and sound, like he had been years ago. Your brows furrowed and your hands went back to the table.

—You don’t expect doctors to get sick, right? What kind of agent am I if I can’t keep safe the very people I wanted to protect in the first place? —you said, pain vibrating in your voice. 

—Only that doctors do get sick.

—Yeah, I guess you are right. —your tone dropped at his observation, sadness taking over you instead.

—Can I ask you something rather personal? —Reid inquired once he realized the emotions he had stirred. You raised your eyebrows curiously, but nodded in agreement anyways— How come you hadn’t contacted him in so long? I mean, I know this job can get in the way of many things, but not even a phone call?

Yes, Spencer was bad at fixing unfortunate comments. Yet, he wasn’t wrong. There were many reasons to not look back at your old pal, to not seek him after, but just as one shall not speak ill of the dead, you had refused to go over the bad memories that would taint the image you had of him. Nonetheless, there was no fooling Spencer, not only because he was a human lie detector, but because he knew you better than anyone else.

—Have you ever looked back and realized you didn’t really like the person you were? —your elbow propped on the table and your cheek rested on your palm to be looking at Spencer. You watched as he took a quick glance at his forearm, and he cleared his throat before he nodded; reality hit you that he was probably remembering the time he struggled with addiction, and you felt a wave of guilt in you, paired with intense pride. He had overcome it almost by himself, but before you allowed your mind to sink deep into the marvelous being Spencer Reid was, you continued your story. —He guided me through my first days of the academy, I was new to Virginia, everything was scary. He became my best friend, I trusted him, during tactical missions, during exams, he had my back, I had his.

—Then what happened? —he asked once you stopped to gather your breath.

—He was holding me back. —you admitted out loud for the first time in your life, him being the first person you have ever told this to— Gideon was teaching a mental disorders assessment class back then, and I got really into it, and so did Conrad, but I was the one who formed rapport with Jason, a friendship really, and so he would help me outside of class, show me additional techniques and cases, he introduced me to Hotch, all while Conrad was struggling to pass his S.W.A.T certifications.

—We met around that time. —he pointed out, smiling a bit to himself. 

—Right, I was doing research for a class and Gideon showed me around the office, and he ended up introducing us. I met Morgan as well, and Elle was still here. —you smiled as you recalled your first time within these walls— See? I was going places, I was trying to start my career, I really wanted to be hired as a Special Agent, and so did Conrad, no matter what it took. Before the final tactical exam, we had to take the mental disorders assessment test. He was already engaged back then, you know? And I knew he was having problems with his fiancé, he came to me, he said he was feeling depressed, and he wanted to make sure it wouldn’t turn up on his assessment, that it was temporary until things got better. He asked me to make a mock test from him, since I surely had access to the test beforehand.

—Because we, the BAU, were the ones who made the questions. —Spencer mentioned in a sudden realization, and you nodded ashamedly.

—I had already taken mine, and so I told Gideon I wanted to quote it for my research, and he gave me a copy. Conrad took it, I went over his answers, and I taught him what to change in order to pass the evaluation.

—Did you ever tell Gideon?

—No. —you shook your head— I knew him enough to understand he would have ended my career then and there, and if anyone were to find out now, I could have my badge taken away. 

—What were the results? —he asked with genuine curiosity, although disapprovingly shaking his head.

—Lack of social skills, narcissistic tendencies, present sociopathy-related traits. He would have never gotten a badge; he wouldn’t have even been allowed to do the final tactical exam if it weren’t for me.

—You put a lot at risk for him. —he paused as if he was trying to find the right way to phrase his next question— Why?

—He was my partner, I felt like I had a duty to protect him. —you reached over to land a hand on his shoulder— Like I have protected you, and will continue to protect you. 

—Yeah, but I would never ask you to do anything like that. I wouldn’t jeopardize your dreams for my own sake. 

—I know. —you said sincerely— It was stupid and reckless. But it made me realize something important; that it didn’t matter how much I cared for Conrad, he needed me more than I needed him, I was going to be okay on my own. After he got married, I figured, well, he’s someone else’s problem now, you know?

Your latter sentence felt a lot more relaxed, and you said it in a half-heartedly joking manner. You realized, however, that Spencer had stopped paying attention somewhere along the way, his lips were parted open, and he had that dissociated look in his eyes.

—Needed him more…—he mumbled as he reached out for Conrad’s file—That’s it!

—What’s it? —you asked as you watched him stand up away from your reach and toward the board.

—Think about it, you’re an Unsub, if your purpose is to kill, why would you keep someone around?

—Well, —you took a second to rack your brain— if they were the object of my rage, I would torture them first.

—But there’s no record of sadism, in fact, both deaths so far have been rather painless. He hasn’t killed Carlos or Conrad because he needs them to get to the real object of his rage. —he began to speak faster by the second— We know he’s targeting FBI employees that have some connection to his time in the academy, but even administrative clerks have their files protected by the FBI database encryption system, hence why he needs Carlos, he’s a Human Resources clerk at Quantico, he has access to the files, addresses, phone numbers, anything so employees can be localized. However, if his end game is to kill an SSA or a higher rank, their files would be far more complicated to obtain. You need to put in a requisition and it has to be approved by other HR superiors and then accessed with your own password, so he would need to keep Carlos alive until he got the approval. 

—But why would he need Conrad then?

—This is just a theory, but there were no signs of forced entry in any of the victims’ houses, which suggests they either knew the UnSub or he presented as non-threatening. Both murders were late at night and in not exactly the safest areas. Who do you open the door for, without hesitation, in the middle of the night and in the heart of a big metropolitan city?

—The police. —you said with certain disbelief.

—Smith was put on desk duty, but he was hired as a cop, he was never demoted, just moved, which means he gets to keep his badge, and that his badge number is still active. —he pointed at the information on the file— I don’t know how, but I think he’s using officer Smith to have access to the houses, and Carlos to get their locations. 

—There’s one problem, though, how did he get the locations for the first two employees? He didn’t have access to Carlos yet, he was only reported missing after the first two bodies appeared. 

Your observation put Reid back into deep thought, he stared at the timeline drawn on the board again, and suddenly, an idea popped into his head, or so you could notice by the way he fumbled with his phone, quickly dialing a known number. 

—Hi, Garcia?—he began talking into the speaker—Yes, I know it’s 2 am, and I’m very sorry, but I really need you to check something for me. Do you have access to the HR databases from your home computer? —he waited a second for her to respond— I don’t really need anything deep right now, I just want to confirm if Carlos Gonzalez was actively working during the two weeks prior to his disappearance. We might have caught a break, but I want to confirm a theory before I call everyone in again. Okay, contact me back if you have something. —with said words, he hung up the phone and turned to look at you. 

—You’re thinking Carlos disappeared way before he was reported missing, aren’t you? —you inquired as you watched him move some things up on the board

—If I’m right, it means he’s had Carlos help him all along. 

—As hostage or partner? —you asked him, but he simply shook his head, unsure of what the real answer was. He fell quiet, and his hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, it was obvious he was nervous about something. Your eyebrows raised questioningly, it would be so much easier if he just spoke up his mind whenever he got a new thought— What now? 

—It would also confirm that you’re part of the suspect pool. 

—Well, if he has my file, he’ll know that I was the best tactical in my class, so good luck. —your eyes had traveled back to the board, your arms crossed over your chest as you examined the evidence hung from it. Out of the corner of your eye, you were able to spot Spencer dropping his head, and you turned to confirm he was alright; instead, you heard him sniffle. Panic took over you, and you reached closer to cup his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. —Hey, hey, what’s going on? 

—I just… —he started, struggling to find the right words— Garcia has been shot, Foyet got to Haley, Gideon couldn’t stop Frank, —he made a small pause to swallow a particularly thick knot on his throat— and doctors can get sick. 

—Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Spencer. You hear me? —you said resolutely. You didn’t realize when, but his arms had wrapped around your middle, and slowly your arms began to circle the area of his neck. —You’re not getting rid of me that easily. 

He still seemed unable to speak. His head simply leaned forward, forehead falling on yours. His eyes fluttered closed, and you allowed yourself to do so as well. After seconds of complete silence, an eternal moment of enjoying each other’s presence, you felt his hands explore further up, he caressed up your clothed back until one of them finally reached your hair. His fingers tangled on your locks and he finally pushed your head toward him, letting his lips fall on yours in a deep kiss. 

This one was different from the ones you had shared before during sex, it was deep, but slow, your lips moved so gently because his were also taking their time. He was savoring you, and you could tell. Your breaths were loud, every so often gasping for air, mouths unable, and unwilling, to pull apart. The ringing of his phone reminded you briefly of where you were and who was kissing you, but firm hands against your cheeks kept your head in place before you could pull away. He had the utter intention to ignore it, but right before the last tone rang he seemed to remember that he was, indeed, waiting for a call. 

—It’s Garcia. —he mumbled against your lips as he pulled away and rushed to get the device from the table, hitting the speaker button right away— Hey, Penelope, you are on speaker. 

—For a second I thought you weren’t going to pick up, and I swear to God, Reid, if you had woken me up from my beauty slumber, in which Ricky Martin was swearing eternal devotion to me, solely so you could fall asleep right away, the punishment I’d have landed upon you would have made those medieval torture instruments documentaries, that you like so much, look like the hairspray movie, and yes, I do mean the one with John Travolta. —Spencer and you exchanged horrified glances, unable to form a sentence to answer her— Anyways, I can’t access the files from my house network, I’d have to come into the office to connect through LAN to get them without being flagged as a national threat, again. But catch this, your boy Carlos bought a complete package deal on GayEuropeanTours.com, and I mean the whole package, Madrid, Milan, Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam, Brussels, like the party capitals. His plane was supposed to arrive in Barcelona one week before the first murder and the entire tour was supposed to last about three weeks. 

—Is there any way to confirm that he wasn’t on that plane? —you asked on the phone. 

—I can’t have access to airline databases from here, this info I got from a facebook post he made two months ago. However, check this out, no one would pay so much money for a trip without posting pictures to brag a bit, right? His instagram has quite the few of them on it. 

—So he did go on the trip. —Reid muttered disappointed. 

—Tonight we finally have proof of who’s the smartest blond in the office, my dear braniac. —Penelope bragged, and Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion— Social media can say a lot about a person, Reid, Carlos would often post pictures of himself, his outfits, selfies, he was all about that self-love, but the europe ones include only food and places, beautiful architecture by the way, yet his face nowhere to be seen, I reverse-searched some of them and found out they were taken off the internet; and it doesn’t end there, I also looked at the metadata of the pictures, they were all posted at the same time, one per day, and through what seems to be an automated third party service to schedule posts. 

—Can we get a location? —he asked 

—My tracking software is at the office, but I’m packing my things as we speak. 

—Penelope, call Morgan and Prentiss, Spencer get Hotch and brief him on what we deduced so far, I’ll get JJ and Rossi, if we can track a location tonight, we might still be able to find Conrad alive. —you ordered the two of them and heard the line go dead at the end of your sentence. 

Spencer hurried to get his phone to dial Hotch’s number as fast as he could, and you stuck to your own orders, getting Rossi on the line almost right away. It felt good, the hope invading your body once again, it beamed, it felt warm and cold at the same time. There was a chance, a chance to save him. A chance for things to go back to what they were.

—Hotch? Listen, we figured out something important, we need everyone back as soon as- —you heard him stop mid-sentence while you waited for the call to connect to Jennifer’s number, but before you heard her voice, Spencer turned in your direction, his voice sounding concerned and surprised— What?

—What is it? — you rushed to ask, his concern quickly rubbing on you. 

—They just found another body that might be connected to our unsub. 

—But we never got a missing person’s report. —you pointed out with disbelief. 

Spencer’s saddened eyes gave you the answer you were avoiding to find. No one else had been reported, so the body could belong to any of the two current missing people. Either Carlos Gonzalez, or Conrad Smith. 

[dancingdub]

Just For The Night

Emily having issues at home and with a case and needs a release.

warning-violence, death, cheating, SMUT

18+ ONLY 2.6 word count

“Baby, I'll call you when I get off the jet. Love you.” Emily ended the call before exiting the bathroom on the jet, seeming annoyed. Her fiance was expecting a nice weekend with her, but Emily was called in on an emergency case. Hotch decided to debrief on the jet with the basic facts they had so far. What they knew was that 4 people had turned up dead in the last 2 days, all with the same victimology and within a 10 mile radius of each other. There was barely any evidence at each scene, they had had to do some extra digging for this one.

Once the jet landed, everyone split up in groups and headed to each scene. Emily and Derek headed to the first murder scene, trying to do reenactments before noticing a pattern. Spencer and Rossi discovered the same thing at their scene, and before they knew it they started working on their profile. JJ and Hotch were putting their heads together at the police station, JJ was talking to the victims' families. She gathered that since it was 20 year old college students being murdered with no signs of struggle or defensive wounds that they must’ve known the unsub. All the victims were blondes with athletic builds, so they could’ve put up a fight if they thought they needed to, but they all took one single gunshot to the head. All the victims didn’t have any drugs in their systems either.

Once everyone came together with their information, they figured it was a younger male, probably dealing with some kind of rejection and probably went to the same college.

After more interviews and garcias magical computer skills, they figured out the unsubs name was Robert Kinney, a senior in college who had just been broken up with. Emily and Derek went to his dorm and found nothing, they talked to his roommate and suspected he was studying for a test in the library, which he was indeed not. He was looking for his next victim. Hotch, JJ, Rossi, and Spencer were roaming the campus looking for Robert, meanwhile Emily and Derek left the library, to go talk to his roommate again.

Once they arrived at the dorm, Emily and Derek sat down with the guy.

“So, did Robert share anything about his personal life? Like maybe where he liked to go in his downtime?” Derek almost started grilling the guy before he stopped himself.

“ uh well, he uh, he liked to hangout in the woods behind the cafeteria, a lot of people go back there to smoke and drink and stuff. Other than that I'm not really sure.”

“Was he a smoker?” Emily asked.

“Yeah, big time. Sometimes he would try to smoke in here but I can’t stand it.”

“Is there anywhere else that you could think of that he would go after class?” Derek was pressing for just a little bit more before they went around the rest of the campus.

“Not really, just the woods or his parents' house.”

“Thanks again.” With that, they headed out to circle around the main building behind the cafeteria. Emily called Hotch and relayed their newfound information, and told them where they would be checking. Hotch and the others were going to the parents house, vests on and guns drawn. They circled the house and found that no one was home.

Emily and Derek were walking through the woods when they heard some quiet talking, followed by bottles opening.

They both crouched next to a tree before peering around to see the unsub sitting at a picnic table with another girl, he was drinking and she was not. They seemed to be having a normal conversation when the mood changed and Robert pulled a gun from his waistband. Emily and Derek called it in to Hotch before making their way over to Robert and the girl, guns drawn.

“Robert,” Emily spoke sternly, “put the gun down.”

“Why should I?”

“Robert, we know why you're doing this, we know Jessica didn’t want you.”

“No one ever stays.”

“We can make sure this never happens again, you just have to put the gun down.”

“What, and go to prison? No thank you." Robert raised his gun and began shooting in their direction before shooting the girl in the head. Emily and Derek rolled out of the way just in time, though a bullet grazed Emily's arm and she let out a grunt.

“EMILY!” derek yelled

“I’m fine, go get Robert.” Derek was off in an instant, tackling Robert to the ground and cuffing him. Hotch and the rest of the gang showed up moments later with the local police. They took Robert in custody and Emily got patched up by the EMT and got cleared to go.

The team slept the whole jet ride home, since the case was short and they didn’t get to sleep the night before. Everyone decided to head home once they got back to the BAU. Hotch said they could do the final paperwork on monday.

Emily was excited to surprise her fiance, Maddy, to be home in a timely manner. It wasn’t often that they solved a case in less than 48 hours.

Once Emily pulled up to their apartment, she noticed an unfamiliar car out front. She figured it was nothing, maybe Maddy had a guest or it was someone else's that she hadn’t seen before.

She opened her front door and closed in behind her. “Baby, I’m home.” Emily put her bags down beside the couch and threw her keys on the table, and then she heard noises coming from the bedroom. She figured Maddy was relaxing in bed, watching tv like she usually was when she came back from a case. Emily made her way to the bedroom, “baby, I-” Emily couldn’t believe her eyes. She walked in to her fiance getting railed by your guy neighbor, Brad. they stopped fucking and maddy started to get up. “Emily, Let me explain.” Emily already started walking away, not wanting to hear anything she had to say. She overheard Brad say he was going to head out. “Oh Brad, you can stay. I’m leaving.” Emily grabbed her overnight bag she just put down after work, grabbed her keys and headed toward the door.

“Emily, please don't go.”

“Fuck off Maddy.” Emily was out the door, heading to her car. This was the last thing she needed. After almost getting shot, to her soon to be wife cheating on her with a man, a fucking man, she just needed to drink her feelings. She drove to the nearest 5 star hotel with a bar and got a room. Once she settled in, she showered, scrubbing all the grime of the last day and a half off of her. She only had 2 extra casual outfits with her, so she decided on a red v-neck and a pair of low rise jeans. She decided to put on a little bit of makeup, she would have no regrets tonight, no matter what happened.

Emily headed down to the bar and scanned the crowd before taking a seat at the end of the bar. She ordered a gin and tonic and decided to people watch.

30 minutes passed, she heard about other people's problems, jobs, personal lives and profiled them like she would an unsub.

“Oh crap, I'm sorry!” Emily watched as y/n entered the bar area, running into someone in the process and spilling their drink.” next one's on me.” y/n said before making her way to the bar. She stole Emily's full attention, settling just a couple seats away. She ordered whiskey on the rocks and you wondered what kind of day she must’ve had. She was stunning, and Emily knew she just might take a chance on her tonight.

Y/n was sitting on the bar stool, back arched, leaning over the bar with just enough cleavage showing to distract all of Emily's thoughts. She was looking at something on her phone, sipping whiskey out of a straw. Emily just needed to talk to this breathtaking woman.

She finished up her second gin and tonic before asking for a third, and moving one seat closer to this mystery woman. She looked over and smiled as you settled in the seat.

“Well don't be shy, come sit next to me.” Emily felt her cheeks heat up and she slid two more seats over before somewhat relaxing next to her

“So what's your name?” she asked as Emily finished the drink she just ordered, gathering some courage.

“I’m Emily.” she said, looking down her shirt just a little bit before biting her bottom lip.

“I’m y/n, what brings you here tonight?”

“Long day, you?”

“Just traveling for work, but I needed a drink after the day I had.” Emily summoned the bartender over to get 2 more drinks for y/n and herself.

“You're too kind.” she said blushing before they clicked glasses and took a swig of their drinks.

“So, do you have any other plans for tonight?” y/n asked Emily, looking her deeply in the eyes with her mouth still on the straw of her drink.

“I was hoping that we could make some?” Emily was feeling bold, especially after the last couple days she's had. y/n smiled, “want to come to my room and we can drink there?”

“Sure, why not. As long as you're not going to kill me.” Emily chuckled, slipping off the stool.

“We sure will find out, won’t we?” she chuckled darkly before leading y/n to her room.

Once they were inside, y/n had a seat on the bed while Emily pulled a bottle of wine from the mini fridge. She had picked it up earlier just in case things went south, but she figured now would be the perfect time to have some. Emily grabbed some plastic cups from the table and poured them each a glass. Emily walked over to y/n so she was just standing over her, when y/n grabbed the collar of her shirt and brought her in for a kiss. It was just a peck, but it set the vibe. Emily leaned in a kissed her back, still holding the glasses. Once she pulled away slightly, y/n smiled looking down at Emily’s chest before looking up at her through her lashes.

“I just wanted to get that out of the way.” Y/n spoke nervously, like she’d never done this before. Emily began to wonder if this was her first time going to someone else’s room on a work trip. Or let alone how old she was. She did seem rather young, but she was so delicious Emily did not care. After everything she’d been through in the last couple days she needed a release.

Y/n took the glass from Emily before patting the bed next to her for Emily to sit.

Maybe she was actually nervous? Emily's mind wandered all the possibilities.

After taking a large swig of her wine, Emily broke the silence. “So y/n, what were you expecting to get out of this?”

“I’m not really sure, but I’m down for whatever you want to do.” She smiled, then downed her whole glass of wine in one swig before turning and stretching to place her cup on the side table, her shirt riding up slightly revealing some lace at the waist of her underwear. Emily couldn’t help but notice, having a hard time peeling her eyes from her.

“I can’t just sit here with you being all sexy.” Emily spoke before grabbing y/n’s chin and bringing her in for a savory kiss. Y/n almost moaned at how Emily's lips took over hers. Y/n kisses back, her tongue beginning to wander. She graced her tongue over Emily’s bottom lip, Emily groaned and tried to get closer to her, grabbing her waist and pulling her against her side. Y/n took that as an invitation and straddled Emily, never breaking the kiss. Emily lapped over and over with her tongue, exploring all of y/n's mouth, her hands roaming under her shirt feeling her soft, warm skin.

Y/n pressed into Emily, letting her weight take them over. Emily pulled away before holding y/n tightly and flipping her over on her back. She moaned at the strength Emily had, dominating her.

“I’m always on top. "Emily whispered into y/n’s lips before trailing harsh kisses down her neck.

“I want this off.” Emily grabbed her shirt and ripped it over her head. “And these.” She grabbed y/n’s waist of her trousers and slid them off her curvaceous ass and thighs, noticing the muscle tone in her legs. Emily wanted those legs wrapped around her tonight. She began to make a trail of bruises down y/n stomach, sucking and kissing each spot as she made her way down to the lace covering her core. With a simple look and nod from y/n, she slid the panties off. Her glistening folds looked so delicious. She was a very attractive woman with a body anyone would dream for, and she was hers for tonight. Emily began to make her way down on y/n sliding her tongue through her wet folds, paying extra attention to her clit. She moved her tongue in harmonious circles around her throbbing bud, causing y/n’s body to tense, small moans leaving her plump lips.

“Please go inside.” Emily took that and ran with it, plunging 2 fingers into her soaking core. She curled her fingers slightly to hit that special spot.

“Ugh, that feels amazing.” Emily lapped over her clit, setting a relentless pace, her fingers pumping in and out.

“Oh god, i'm so close.” Y/n was practically yelling. Her body began to tense around Emily’s fingers, her legs involuntarily closing around Emily’s face and she reached her peak.

Emily let her ride out her high, slowly pumping her fingers until she finally pulled them out, licking them clean. Emily was still fully clothed nonetheless, and y/n was still panting from the number Emily just did on her.

“My turn, y/n.” she slipped her top and trousers off, her panties were soaked. Y/n took a good look at Emily’s almost naked body. She was incredibly beautiful. Her fair skin was so soft, she couldn’t wait to taste her.

“Come up.” Y/n said, gesturing Emily to sit on her face. Emily had no problem with that. She took off her panties, the wetness glistening as she spread over y/n’s face. Y/n slid her tongue through Emily’s folds, finding her swollen bundle of nerves. Her tongue lapped over it softly, causing Emily to moan quietly. Her hips rocked back and forth against y/n’s tongue, setting her own pace. It only took a few moments before the pressure built up in Emily’s core, she began to grind down harder on y/n’s tongue. She finally came to her release, moaning loudly as she rode out her high on y/n’s tongue. Once she was stable, she lifted her leg over y/n’s head, leaning down to kiss her hard on the mouth. Her chin was glistening with Emily’s slick.

“Why don’t we hop in the shower?” Emily looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“That sounds lovely.” They both ran to the shower, removing any left over clothes still on their bodies. They fucked each other again, before resting in each others arms for the night. Emily vowed this would be a one time thing, though she did find herself not wanting to let anyone else have y/n after tonight. She was marked as hers from now on. She put her number in y/n’s phone before sending her on her way to work the next morning.

[leftoverenvy]

Contaminated - Part 1

Summary: Emily and JJ's marriage is in shambles, so Emily turns to an unlikely source of comfort: her student.  To add gasoline to the fire, Emily starts an affair.  A songfic inspired by Contaminated by BANKS.

A/n: Thank you all for waiting and hyping me up about this story. I hope you like it :) All chapters will be from Emily's POV

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x OC; Prof! Emily x POC OC; Emily Prentiss x Jennifer "JJ" Jareau

Warnings: eventual smut; power dynamic; age gap (unspecified – but all over 18); power imbalance; professor - student; cheating; marital arguing

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: Thank you all for waiting and hyping me up about this story. I hope you like it :) All chapters will be from Emily's POV

Tumblr Masterlist | Wattpad

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @reidselle 🦭; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @hotchs-bitch 🦆 ; @multiverse-mxdness 🧌 ; @madelineleong

Part 1

I exhaled loudly, my office chair squeaking quietly from me abruptly leaning back.  I tossed my pen on my desk, frustrated with the quality of my students' work.  These freshmen papers really had me questioning the state of education in this nation.  Hopefully once I had a few semesters under my belt, I could stop teaching intro classes.  It wasn't that I didn't like my new job, I just wanted to teach classes on profiling.  My skills were wasted on these introductory courses.

I rolled my eyes at my arrogance and leaned forward to pick up the picture on my desk – my favorite photo of JJ.  It stood out.  It looked incongruous here, out of place.  I felt just as out of place in JJ's life recently as this photo looked in my office.  

It was hard transferring out of the BAU, but ultimately it had been the right decision.  I would be forever grateful for my time at the BAU.  It had brought me to JJ after all.  But I did not regret that that chapter in my life had ended.  Once Hotch had found out JJ and I were dating, he fought long and hard for us both to stay, but Strauss didn't seem to care.  The optics of two agents dating was bad; one of us would have to transfer out of the BAU.  JJ had been devastated.  She loved being media liaison, and she loved the team.  I thought it the perfect opportunity to get a slower paced job.

I was tired of always traveling.  I wanted to sleep in my own bed more than a few nights a month.  I was over the hotel pillows, living out of a duffel bag, and takeout for dinner every night.  I was far too old to be running around chasing after unsubs.   I didn't know how many more pursuits my body could handle.  I just wanted to be home.  For my entire life, home had never been stable.  It was always fleeting, shifting.  I had hoped I would find a stable home in JJ.

I returned the photo of my wife to its spot and scooped up the remaining quizzes I was struggling to grade.  I didn't need to waste time sitting in my office.  I could just as easily grade at home.  No one had been by for office hours in weeks anyway.  I shoved the papers in my bag haphazardly, not giving a second thought to the few papers with newly creased corners.  Flipping the light off behind me, I rushed out to get home.

- - - 

"Em?" I heard softly, the sound of the garage door nearly drowning out JJ's soft voice.

"Jayje?  Is that you?" I called back in disbelief.

"Who else would it be?" she joked, the bite in her voice making me question her sincerity.

Chuckling at my own stupidity, I responded, "I just didn't expect you home."  I dropped my bag and keys and set out on my search for JJ.  I hadn't seen her in over a week, and even that hadn't really counted because she had been home for a night before leaving for a new case the next day.  I couldn't remember the last time we had spent any meaningful time together. 

I made a brief detour to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, nearly doing a spit take when I saw JJ's phone – left on the kitchen island – light up with a new message.  I had to do a double take; surely I had misread something in the brief flash I had seen.  And for the first time in our relationship, I was ashamed to say, I opened JJ's phone to read further.

JJ was having a full and flirtatious conversation with a man named Will.  I had intended to read the last message only.  It was innocent; I merely needed to confirm someone else was not calling my wife sexy.  My stomach knotted around itself as I learned someone had indeed called my wife sexy and more.  Each message felt like a punch to the gut, pushing all air from my lungs as I struggled to keep my knees from buckling.  My fingers turned white against the edge of the countertop, the subtle ache helping to keep me in this moment.

I didn't know JJ was interested in men.  Hell, I didn't know JJ was interested in anyone else at all.  I guessed there was a lot she was keeping from me.  I wracked my brain trying to remember who this "Will" was.  Had she mentioned him before?  Was he a new profiler?  Who was he to JJ?

I rushed to put her phone back exactly as I had found it.  There wasn't a thing I could do about the messages now being read, but I'd have to just cough up to snooping through her messages if she asked.

- - -

She never mentioned her text messages.  I waited for the other shoe to drop for days.  And while I was waiting, I saw signs everywhere.  I couldn't believe I had missed them before.  Looking back, they'd always been there.  Maybe I had been too blind to see them, refusing to see what was right in front of me.  She had been distant and cold for several weeks now.  When she bothered speaking to me, it was cold, detached, or snippy.  She had a short fuse about everything.  Around eight times out of ten, our simple conversations turned into arguments.  It grew tiresome, especially considering she was so rarely home anyway.  I didn't want to waste our limited time fighting, but it was the only thing she seemed to want to do.  With me anyway.

I found it impossible that when she was home her nose was always buried in her phone, but when I tried calling her when she was away it went straight to voicemail every time.  My texts went unanswered for hours.  I tried to rationalize it; I told myself she was working when she was away, so she wouldn't constantly be on her phone.  However, as each day passed, it was increasingly difficult to continue lying to myself.

She was pulling away from me, physically and emotionally.  She was never home anymore.  She claimed she was working.  Of course I remembered my time at the BAU: the constant stream of cases, the long hours even when we were at the office.  But there was still time to come home.  Hours as a special agent had been long, but they were never this long.  

I berated myself constantly.  I was a profiler for Christ's sake!  These were classic signs, and I should have recognized them much sooner.  Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined JJ would use work as an excuse to sleep around.  I bit back an angry retort one night when she called to tell me she was sleeping on the couch in her office.  Surely she knew that I knew she was lying, right?  Who would buy that?

I thought back to every clandestine meeting we had in hotel rooms during cases, every liaison we had had in the liaison's office.  I thought back to every tiptoe down hallways, the constant fear of getting caught driving our frenzied hands to move faster.  I yearned for our hurried kisses swallowing the other's moans.  Of course things had slowed down now – we didn't have to keep us a secret.  I never expected her to trade my safe comfort and love for that same secretive passion we once shared.  

Only now she was sneaking around with Will.

This JJ wasn't the JJ I had first met; this wasn't the JJ I had fallen in love with.  Her eyes, once huge and full of child-like wonder, were now cold and calculating.  She rarely smiled at me anymore.  The job had changed her, hardened her.  It had made her cold and bitter.  I chuckled ruefully.  Hadn't life done that to me, too?

- - - 

My foul mood started the moment I saw a man's name in JJ's phone, and it had yet to dissipate.  In just a few short weeks, I had tarnished my once sparkling reputation in the Georgetown sociology department.  Though I had only been teaching three semesters, I was already a highly sought-after professor.  A prestigious, former FBI agent, my waitlists were always maxed out.  No matter how much I worried about sullying that reputation, I could not keep myself from being a stone-cold bitch.  As if my bad mood were a winter cold, I couldn't shake it.

Obviously, as a new professor, I did not yet have tenure.  And as if I didn't have enough on plate – worrying about my wife – I worried about how my mood would affect my new career.  Surely next semester's enrollment would tank.  If I didn't find a way to loosen up, I would be out of a job.  

I needed to get a grip.  Life had dealt me a shitty hand before, and I had never let it affect me like this.  I felt like a zombie walking around in my own life.  My fuse now ran as short as JJ's these days.  That wasn't fair to me or my students.  As an olive branch, I decided to hold an optional review session before exam season.  If their midterm papers were any predictor of their final grades, they could use an exam review.

My desire to turn my attitude around only went so far.  I knew holding the review during class time would invite students to ask a bunch of questions about my time at the FBI, and I did not have the energy to deal with that.  Instead, I scheduled it for an evening at the end of the last week of class in an effort to keep the non-serious students away.  My plan worked; only about thirty of my one hundred twenty students showed up.

"Thank you for trekking through the snow to be here this evening.  I'll try to make it worth your while," I started.  "My plan is to do about thirty minutes of review and then take questions."  My plan was shot to hell about five minutes into my lecture.

In a split second, everything stopped, everything changed.  It was as if I were dunked in a frozen lake.  I was jarred awake from my hibernation.  Wide, gleaming eyes captured my attention from across the room.  Their warmth thawed my cold, careless gaze.  She was the complete opposite of JJ.  Maybe that's what had drawn me in: how different she was from my frigid, absent wife.

Her caramel skin and big hair made me long to touch her.  And those eyes.  Lord, those eyes.  Innocent and earnest, like a puppy.  I just knew I could destroy her.  Desecrate every light part in her.  If I could sink my teeth into her, surely that gleam in her virtuous eyes would be extinguished.  I wanted to sully the good in her.  I wanted to ruin her.

I stuttered in the middle of my sentence.  I lost my train of thought in the middle of my lecture.  I tore my gaze from the angel in the second row to resume teaching.  Teaching.  As badly as I wanted her, she was my student.  It was inappropriate, forbidden.  Just about fifteen minutes ago I had been worried about losing my job for being inadequate for my students.  Where had that concern gone?  This longing definitely should have raised a red flag in my mind.

Struggling to finish my planned points for the exam review, I quickly wracked my brain for a way to ground myself.  I felt anger swell in me as my control slinked out of my firm grasp.  I was always in control, and anything that made me lose that control was not welcome in my life.  I twisted my wedding band around my finger as a reminder that I was married.  As it slid around my finger over and over, my control slipped further.  Faster and faster I spun it until it warmed my finger from the friction.  My wedding band served as an anchor to the life I had built for JJ and me.  Nothing was worth imploding that. 

I was married to someone else.  I was her professor.  Married.  In a position of power over her.  A violation of school policy.  I pushed my ring further into my skin, hoping the ache would snap me out of this.  Married married married.

But it was useless.  I was powerless to the magic of her gaze.  Because once students had started gathering up their things, when I realized she was about to walk out of here, away from me, I simply knew.  I'd stop at nothing to have her.

_ _ _

Continue to next part

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Children of the Dark: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

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

Author’s Note: So sorry I keep forgetting to post. I’ve been so busy at work, I try to keep up with the schedule I’ve outlined. I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is 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

"In the city, crime is taken as emblematic of class and race. In the suburbs though it's intimate and psychological; resistant to generalization; a mystery of the individual's soul." - Barbara Ehrenreich

"Sorry I'm late," you pant as you rush into the briefing room. Everyone is already there, waiting on you to start. You're only five minutes late, but late nonetheless. "The hotel I'm staying at is getting sick and tired of me being there all the time. They claim they are a hotel, not a home."

"Let's get started," Hotch nods, looking to JJ to start.

You catch Spencer's eyes as you get settled into your seat, but he looks away as soon as you look at him. You don't have time to analyze him, so you focus on JJ right now.

"The Halbert family. They were murdered in their home last night in the Denver suburb of Cherry Creek. It's the third home invasion like this in the last month. They kill everyone in the household--parents, kids, and pets if they have them. Always families in nice neighborhoods."

"What do they take?" you wonder.

"Nothing they can't fit in their pockets. Cash and some jewelry."

"Hundreds of ways to get cash and jewels without killing entire families. That's why home invasions are so hard to profile. They have multiple motives."

"National statistics show an uptick in home invasions over the last few years with 18% being in Colorado," Spencer says.

"You know it's bad if they're inviting us back."

"Back?"

"Well, things went bad after the JonBenet Ramsey case when a couple of agents publicly criticized local detectives."

"Well, they didn't need us to make them look bad," Derek scoffs, "and that was in Boulder."

"Yeah, but the statewide media ran with it, and it took on a life of its own."

"Well, I talked to Lieutenant Nellis. Trust me. They want our help," JJ says. "They need it. The first two invasions were twenty days apart. This last one was just nine days later."

"They're killing faster, which means they're getting better at it every time."

"Home invasions typically involve the elderly and single females. The fact that entire families are being targeted suggests multiple unsubs. Could mean gang-related, revenge motive, or even personal business," Spencer says.

"I don't think any of these victims are running in gang circles."

"Sewing circles, more like it," Emily jokes. "PTA moms and gray-flannel dads... These guys are killing the cleavers."

Spencer holds up the case file to take a closer look at something, frowning when he sees it.

"Strange."

"What is?"

"The cleavers. Of all the names for a 1950s idyllic tv family, it's rife with violent implication. Kind of makes you wonder how the writers really felt about suburbia, huh?"

"Focus, please."

"Uh, okay, what about, um, class-based uprising? Helter skelter?" Emily theorizes.

"There's no graffiti and no messages, at least not visible ones. There's no rituals. Manson's aim was to start a race war. There's no proof of any hate crime here."

"The parent murders are brutal and messy. The instruments vary from a golf club to a kitchen knife to even an iron. Household implements symbols of family. The kids were different. They died by injection--pentobarbital," you say.

"It's a barbiturate sometimes used as an anticonvulsant for epileptics, anxiety disorders, and state executions," Spencer explains for those who don't know.

"The invasions are well planned. Phone lines are cut. Ligature marks show the parents were bound and gagged. Looks like these guys had some robbery experience," Derek says.

"And then found their true calling," Emily sighs.

You stand outside the most recent crime scene with hints of tears in your eyes. Everyone else has gone inside with the exception of Spencer who is outside talking to the neighbors. Children were killed in this house, and you know that if you go inside, you're going to see the spirits of them running throughout the house. Just by being outside, it's enough to let the trauma wash over you.

How you ever got into this field is beyond you.

This is part of the job, and you have to not let shit affect you after a certain point. It will, but you can't let it show that it will. You take a deep breath and head inside the house, trying to keep yourself objective about things. There is a whole color mess of energy here ranging from red to blue to yellow to even green. The energy takes form of the people who used to live here.

The children laugh as they run around the house chasing each other and getting in the way of the mother who is working hard. The father is cooking in the kitchen where he can provide his family with full bellies. This must be their final moments as a family because you don't see the destruction... yet.

However, you do see the two energies of both unsubs here, calling out for you to pay attention to them.

"Are you okay?" Hotch asks you.

"There's a lot of trauma here, Hotch. Especially with children. It's just a lot to take in all at once."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," you nod.

"There is no sign of forced entry," Lieutenant Nellis says.

"It's the same as the other two houses, right?"

"Yeah."

"Y/N, can you paint a picture for us?" Hotch asks you.

You turn to the front door and focus on the past. When you open your eyes, you're brought back to the night of the murder. The house is dark, but the parents are watching TV together while the children are in their beds sleeping. There is a knock at the door, and the father gets up to answer it while the mother stays on the couch.

He flips on the light switch, but the porch light doesn't turn on. There must be a shortage or the unsubs made it so that the light wouldn't turn on. Regardless, the father opens the large peephole cover to look outside. You're unable to see who is outside, but the father must know who they are because he opens the door.

He invited them inside because he knew them--that's your theory anyway. The two men in the form of black shadows walk inside. Almost immediately, they start threatening and attacking the parents. One of them goes to the kids while the other stays with the parents.

"Y/N?" Hotch asks, putting a hand on your shoulder.

Your entire environment changes from last night to today, and you squint from the light shining into the house.

"The father answered the door, but the porch light wasn't on. He looked through the peephole and determined that the two unsubs were safe enough to invite inside, or they knew them. That's when they started attacking the family."

"Take a break. Why don't you join Reid outside?"

You didn't know that your cheeks were wet until he told you to leave. It sucks that you behaved this way in front of the person who asked you to be here, but there are some crime scenes that are just too powerful for you to be emotionless about.

With this much overkill, there's usually some kind of history. If it was just about eliminating witnesses, it never would have been as vicious as it was. This was rage upon the family. There's no way the unsubs don't know who these families are. However, while the parents suffered overkill, the kids went quietly. They were tucked into their beds, orderly, and controlled.

Two unsubs. One unstable and the other a submissive.

To take a break from all this, you join Spencer who is talking to one of the neighbors.

"I came by about 9:00 to return the pyrex. No one answered when I rang the bell, but the lights were on inside."

"Did you happen to look in the windows?" Spencer asks, looking at you when you join his side.

"Not then, no. I had my cell phone. I was gonna call, but I... I couldn't get a signal, which was strange."

"Why was that strange?"

"You always get a signal here. There's a tower on the next block. Uh, I left the dish. This morning, it was still here so I came over. Th-that's when I looked inside."

"And you called the police on your cell?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you." She walks off and Spencer turns to you with a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

"I will be the further I get from here."

"Luckily, you don't have to stay here long. Hotch wants us back."

You turn to see Hotch, Derek, and Emily head to the government issued car, and you sigh in relief. You and Spencer head to the car, and the entire team head to the police station using Nellis' directions. JJ is already at the office, and she greets everyone with a smile.

While you were at the crime scnee, she was setting up here, so the conference room is already good to go with every bit of evidence on display.

"These guys don't lack confidence. Targeting entire families is a high-risk endeavor," Hotch sighs.

"It's possible they're minimizing that risk by jamming cell phones inside the house. No one can call out."

"Doesn't that narrow the profile? With it being high tech?" Nellis asks.

"Not really. You can buy a hand-held jammer on Amazon for a hundred bucks."

"I could use one of those next time I go to the movies," Nellis chuckles.

The desk phone rings, and Derek answers it. You have a feeling it's Penelope because who else would call?

"Hey, girl. You're on speaker. Behave," Derek answers.

"Or what, you'll spank me?" You actually burst out laughing at her comment, but when you see the look on Hotch's face, you clear your throat and shake your head. "So, I've been searching the area for unsolved robberies. I found four with similar elements... Phone lines cut and the only thing stolen were small valuables."

"Were the occupants tied up?"

"Yes, but no homicides."

"Okay. Thanks, dollface. I'll call you back." He hangs up. "Well, if this is our guys, something made them graduate to murder. If we can figure out what that trigger was, it might tell us how they choose their victims. I've been looking into victimology, and so far, there's really nothing to connect the families. Different political affiliations, different careers, and different school systems. At this point, it simply appears the unsubs are targeting their victims at random."

"Nellis, can you gather everyone? It's time to give the profile."

"You got it boss."

You get up and approach Hotch before he has a chance to leave.

"Sir, I just want to apologize for laughing earlier."

"It was kind of funny," Hotch smirks slightly.

You gasp with a smile but let him leave your side. The entire team gathers into the main room where Nellis has gathered all of his men and women on the force. Hotch steps forward with the intent of beginning this meeting.

"We're looking for two men, probably white--given the neighborhoods that they hit--mid to late twenties, intelligent, and organized. These are career criminals. One or both has done hard time, but neither presents as a convict. They would appear clean-shaven, well dressed, and neighborly. This helps them talk their way into the homes. They may also be using a ruse."

"What kind of ruse?" Nellis asks.

"Given that the invasions have taken place in the evening, it could be anything. Could be door-to-door sales, people in distress, or car trouble."

"Uh, Derrick Todd Lee used a tape of a baby crying to get women to open their doors in Baton Rouge. Never underestimate their creativity," Spencer explains.

"These men share a very tight bond and a mutual compulsion to kill, but their signatures reveal two very distinct personalities," you state. "One brutalizes the parents. This is the dominant one--sadistic, remorseless, and extremely volatile. The other prefers a needle. His injections are consistent with an angel of death. He's more withdrawn, sensitive, and he has a warped sense of mercy."

"Agent Morgan is passing out a list of places where he might have access to the drug he uses. It's long, but it's all we have at this point," Hotch says while Derek passes out the information.

"Hotch," JJ interrupts, speaking close to Hotch, but you can hear. "There's been another one, and they're sending an ambulance."

"Ambulance?" Emily asks having heard her too.

"There's a survivor?"

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[synvil]

˖◛⁺⑅♡ navi !

(｡・//ε//・｡) hello and welcome !

name is syd, i’m in my 20’s, viet, and I am INFP ! (( she // her ))

this blog contains dc ! 18+ // minors do not interact.

I mainly write for Spencer Reid, but I am open considering other characters including other shows!

requests : open! (( selective ))

current mood : reminiscent

current thoughts : spencer would give such nice cuddles..

current status : offline / idle / online / sleep

links ! :

masterlist

rules

works in progress ! :

colorful // the reader is colorblind. spencer finds out and decides to help you.

words hurt // plus size! reader takes over spencer’s class for him. it doesn’t turn out so good.

playful times // you and spencer have the day off, and sometimes it’s just nice to be childish and dorky.

can’t swim // when an unsub shoves you off the dock into the deep depths of the ocean, you feel the panic sink in as you desperately try to reach for air. Fortunately, someone comes to your rescue.

framed // visiting a friend for the wedding takes an unexpected turn one night when the NYPD comes knocking on your door and arrests you on the spot. Problem? You can’t remember a thing.

taken // rejecting an invitation to party with the BAU ladies, you come home late just to black out and wake up tied up. unfortunately, you know the unsub, and you can only hope your team saves you in time.

in control (18+) // spencer lets you know who’s really the one in control.

most recent ! :

try on-haul tease // teasing Spencer while trying on clothes

unknown girlfriend // spencer has a secret girlfriend that the others don’t know about, until she shows up at their door.

library encounter // in which you stumble upon a particular genius when looking for a book, a genius who saves you.

synvil™️

do not copyright.

edited as of 2/20/24.

[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU: 2018

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. (image link)

2016- 2017   Class of 2018

Messy

September 29, 2017 11:17pm

           Luke Alvez hadn’t expected this, despite his explicit instructions to his team to do so in the case of an emergency. And yet he found his phone ringing in the late-night weekend hours from an unsaved Virginian number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Luke Alvez?”

“It is, and you are?”

“My name is Frank Broadhead and I am—”

“The principal for the International School.”

“Why, yes, actually.”

“With all due respect, sir, but why are you calling me so late?”

“Well, you see, Mr. Alvez. Or Coach? Do you prefer Coach?”

“Semantics, please continue.”

“Right, well. Phil and I just so happened to find a few of your students breaking into our football stadium tonight. Now I wanted to call Aaron Hotchner myself, but young Mr. Malcolm has convinced us that you were the right call. Are you?”

“Sorry?”

“Are you the right call?”

Luke stared at the ceiling of his apartment and whispered a few choice curses beneath his breath.

“Are you pressing charges?”

“Now, Coach, we were very lucky to have apprehended the intruders prior to any hijinks. But, either you or another faculty member come and collect the lot of them or I am calling the police, followed by their parents.”

Luke could hear various protests in the background, this was not the way he wanted to spend his weekend. He also didn’t have a large enough vehicle to cart around multiple teenagers. “Besides Trevor Malcolm, who and how many are there?”

Luke grabbed his keys and double checked his back gate as he continued with the phone call.

“Well, I have a very aggressive young lady by the name of May Howard, a more demur girl named Azalene Curtis, a disrespectful punk who refuses to tell me his name and Mr. Malcolm.”

“Alright, Broadhead, tell Brooks to sit tight and I will be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Mr. Alvez.”

Luke hit the end call button and sighed. It was late enough that the bugs and occasional cars passing by were the only noises on his street. He stared at his list of contacts for a solid minute before making the call, which finally connected on the fourth ring.

“Man, you better not be drunk dialing me.” Morgan’s voice was amused.

“Sorry, Derek, but duty calls.”

An hour later, HM Hotchner, Coach Morgan and Coach Alvez all stepped out of the large black Suburban. The rival school was cast in near darkness, besides a few lights in a first-floor wing. Luke led the way, Hotch and Derek shared a glance at his familiarity with the campus. When they reached the door, Luke was texting on his phone.

“K, should be just a sec for them to let us in.”

“Anybody know about this?” Hotch looked at his two current sports’ coaches with concern.

“Honestly, Hotch, I had no idea. I gave the guys my number in case they needed a sober driver, I wasn’t exactly expecting a full bail out.” Luke admitted, scratching the back of his neck. Aaron nodded, he was grateful to have Alvez on his team.

“My whole focus has been putting in the work to stick it their football team come playoffs, Hotch.” Derek held up his hands as they were empty of precursors to the crime. “If I had heard Howard and company would be trespassing I would have nipped that in the bud.” Derek’s eyes lit up as someone opened the secure door wide.

A tall African American guy gave them an annoyed appraisal, “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Brooks.” Luke sighed. “This is my boss, Aaron Hotchner,” he paused as the shook hands. “And I’m guessing you’ve met Coach Morgan?”

“Brooks. Sorry about this.” Derek patted the man on the back as he led the way through the dimmed hallways.

“That bulldozer on your line?” Brooks started. “She’s a pistol.”

“Are the students alright?” Hotch interjected.

“Yeah, the guys may have been on something, but they lost their buzz fairly quickly.”

Luke and Derek both groaned, Coach Phil Brooks led the way to the principal’s office as they passed through a waiting room. In a row, spanning the spectrum of fear to boredom sat four Submariners. Lena Curtis, May Howard, Trevor Malcolm and one Iggy Cruz. When their teachers and headmaster stepped into the room, they erupted into a slew of explanations.

“Sir, we didn’t even—” Trevor started.

“Coach, I am so sor—” May’s voice hitched as her favorite teacher looked at her with complete disappointment.

“Are you going to call my dad?” Lena squeaked, she had been crying.

“Enough!” Hotch raised his voice and the room quieted. “Submariners on your feet.” Even the coaches beside him straightened up at the direct order. Iggy was the last one to stand, letting a huff fall from his lips. “You will wait here with Mr. Morgan and Mr. Alvez. I am going to sort this out with Principal Broadhead, then we will discuss the consequences of your actions.”

October 2, 2017 12:58pm

Ms. Prentiss’s phone buzzed against her desk, but it didn’t register as she was reading going over the final act of The Crucible with her Sophomore class.

“Now Miller wrote this during the Red Scare, what parallels can you draw from the play and those events?” She looked out into the faces of some very bored and mildly confused teenagers. Her phone buzzed again, more obvious now in the silence left by the unanswering class. “Okay, let’s try this again. Red Scare? Anyone take post World War Two history, yet?”

Five hands were raised around the room, she sighed and nodded. Then Zachary Henkel’s hand shot up as if he was electrocuted.

“Yes, Mr. Henkel? What can you tell us about the Red Scare?”

“Nothing, actually, but Ms. Garcia is waving frantically and knocking at the door.”

The English teacher’s brow knit as realization sunk in.

“It’s time?” She asked the excitable guidance counselor.

“It’s definitely time. I don’t want to into details. But, hospital, go, you now.” Emily Prentiss gave a wilted glance back to the waiting class. “Go, Emily, I’ve got them.”

“Communism and Arthur Miller. You, go.”

1:14pm

The Kirsch Memorial Hospital felt like a maze, despite the now weekly appointments JJ had been having within. Emily soon found the birthing wing and signed in at the desk.

“Your partner is in room 13C. Breathe, Mama, you got this.” The beaming nurse said to Emily, who must have looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Right, thanks.” Emily gave a half smile and pinned her security tag on her blouse. The rooms were set up like hotel suites: very comfortable and spaced in pairs down a soothing hallway.

“Oh thank God!” JJ exclaimed as she saw Emily’s black hair peek through the double wide door.

“Or just Penelope, hey you.” Emily grabbed JJ’s hand. “Sorry I didn’t answer right away, I though it was an email notification.”

“You really need to stop being so professional.” JJ’s laughed cut short as a contraction started.

“Where are we at?” Emily watched the monitors they had on her girl and her bulging belly.

“Six minutes apart, but only dilated to 4,” JJ grunted. Emily rubbed JJ’s back with her free hand, as the pain eased so did JJ’s grip on the bed rail and Emily’s left hand.

“Good job, its like you’re ready to have a baby today.” Dr. Savannah Hayes smiled at the couple as she entered the room on her rounds. Emily watched JJ with immense pride as JJ sighed at her OBGYN.

“Ya think?”

Oct. 8 3:40pm

Matt Simmons had wrapped up his Sociology class early, telling the kids to enjoy the fresh air before a set of storms was due in for the weekend. Between his amazing stories, his looks and his more relaxed teaching style he had quickly won the hearts of the student body. He regularly received assignments early and was asked more than once if he was single, for their mothers or aunts. He politely declined the offers. Today he made his way down to the sound booth at the back of the Rothschild Auditorium to help set up for the coming musical. Rehearsals varied by day of the week as Lucas Turner was a lead this year and had recruited a few other football players for backstage work as well. The actors wouldn’t be in until 5:30pm. Matt found Alex Blake already playing with the levels as the set crew started showing up after the final bell. She held her chin in her palm, scrutinizing the coloring below.

“How’s it going?” He leaned against the door frame, his large arms folded across his chest. Alex jumped at his appearance, holding her chest. He tried to bite back his amusement, but her rueful smile told him it wasn’t going to be met with a scolding.

“Matthew! Damnit, I thought reporters liked an intro before they make an appearance.”

“Getting hard of hearing in your old age, Doc? Better keep up.”

“I am as quick as ever, thank you very much,” Alex tilted her head.

“Yeah, I bet,” He smiled at her confidence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. What’s up with the ‘Ms.’ Did you decide to forget your PhD?”

Alex sighed, spinning to face him and away from the control desk. He had leaned back in another chair, all young and firm and handsome. “When Dave and I split, I wanted a fresh start, so I left the Doctor title behind as it was always paired with Rossi.”

“I was sorry to hear about that, and Ethan of course.”

“Thanks.” She closed her eyes at the mention of her late son. “So, what exactly brings you to teaching? It’s not exactly high adrenaline, which I recall you always chased.”

“Hannah had a rough go of it last year and I, well, I needed a change of scenery.” Matt flinched but didn’t go into greater detail.

“Did your sister ask you to keep an eye on Hannah?” Alex’s voice was low and soothing.

“Are you kidding? She barely talks about Hannah, no, Hannah and I have been close since she was little. I figured there was going to be at least a temporary opening and I reached out to Hotch.”

“JJ probably loved that.” Alex smiled, turning back to the stage.

“Yeah, well, she has her hands full now.”

“True. You sure you want to give up your nights to help run sound?” Alex teased.

“I like to be useful, plus, something tells me the Director can keep me in line.”

She gave him a look before rolling her eyes at him, “Welcome to life in the Theatre, Mr. Simmons.”

6:08pm

Jake wasn’t certain his feelings meant anything in the grand scheme of things and that thought alone made him panic. But the gnawing in his gut was getting worse with each passing day. There was something about being in the wings, the dust and ancient currents were like layers of reality, secluding and enclosing them. Michel was going over their lines and Jake was trying not to stare or break their concentration.

Michel was had contoured today and felt drastically more confident now that the itchy school blazer had been discarded. They had their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and left the top buttons open, despite the draftiness of the theatre. Now if they could just get their lines down they would earn their bad ass title for another week. After rehearsal they had a late dinner with their parents, who were briefly stateside and probably another hour of homework. So much for senior year slacking.

Jake was going to lose his nerve, but the romantic leads were going over their first scene and it felt like they would be called on for their entrances at any moment. Michel had turned to him now, “Can you read Jackson’s lines I just need to stop using the script as a crutch already.”

“Sure. But, you could always ask him to run lines.” Jake didn’t mean to sound snarky, but his self-consciousness came off as annoyance.

“Jake, you are literally doing nothing right now. Come on,” Michel huffed. Jake stood up straight and accepted Michel’s script from their out stretched hand. He leaned over the folded booklet and waited for Michel to start, their character was Bellomy, the leading lady’s father and they adjusted their stance as they got into character. Jake was transfixed, clearly, he understood acting, but watching Michel do it was like watching water boil or leaves change color. A natural transformation resulting in something completely different than who was there before.

“Oh lady le di le da loo…”

“Oh, lady le di le da loo…” Jake sounded it out choppily. Michel grabbed him tightly as the characters would greet each other in the show

“Hucklee!”

           “Bellomy!”

“Neighbor!”

           “Friend!”

Jake hadn’t let go of Michel, though a wall was meant to be separating the men on stage. He dropped the script and turned to his longtime friend and crush.

“How’s the gout?”

“What?” Jake looked down at Michel mystified.

“That’s the line, Jake. What’s wrong?” But before Jake could answer or Michel could stop him, his lips were on Michel’s.

Oct. 10 6:54pm

“Now ladies and gentlemen, will you please rise for the singing of our National Anthem?” The announcer’s voice boomed over the stadium filled to capacity with Homecoming crowds. The F.B.I. Scarlet Submariners were on the East side of their home field as their opponents the gold and black Kingsford Knights were on the West side. The sun had set fifteen minutes prior, letting the overhead lights illuminate the turf for miles around.

Mr. Walker raised his arms and the Pep band began the familiar bars, as Sacha Kane began to sing. The song wrapped up with thunderous applause and the coin toss followed. The teams stood lining the field as the captains returned. Sitting and stewing in their jerseys without their pads were the benched senior Ignacio Cruz and sophomore May Howard. The defense took the field and Lucas Turner sighed as his right side felt empty with an unreliable substitute. Coach Morgan had made the call, which Headmaster Hotchner backed fully. Coach Alvez had given Trevor a comparable two-game ban and a parent-approved drug test as punishment for the theatrics at the end of September.

“It had to be Homecoming,” Derek thought to himself as his back up kicker botched a punt, leaving the rival team on the Unsubs’ thirty-yard line. They went into the locker room down by six at half time. Thunder rolled in the distance. As well-spoken as Coach Morgan was, he didn’t need to say anything, the team knew they had to step it up. He let them breathe before offering a few shuffles to the lines.

“Unsubs! Whose house is this?!” Coach Morgan bellowed to the cement lined room.

“Our House!” They barked back.

“Whose house is this?!”

“Our HOUSE!” A deep booming response this time.

“Search and destroy, guys! SEARCH AND DESTROY!” The sweaty and pumped up bodies of forty teenagers jogged back on to the field to the enthusiasm of their stands. They went on to win by eleven, just as the cascade of rain flooded the stadium. After everyone had showered, Coach Morgan called Cruz and Howard over to discuss their reinstatements for the following week’s away game.

“You two care about your school, but there are better ways to defend it. Use your God-given talents to help your team, or you never were an Unsub. Behavior, Analysis, Unity. Earn it.”

Oct. 11 5:24pm

Chloe’s phone went off as she helped set the table for dinner. Her gaggle of siblings were either taking up space in the kitchen, trying to snag a taste early or lounging in the adjoining living room. All of her friends were off to take group pictures before heading to dinner at some posh restaurant or another. What a difference a year makes, the memories of last year’s dance clouding her thoughts.

She glanced down at the caller id before answering. “Lucas?”

“Hey, Chloe, listen, are you busy tonight?” He seemed quiet, like he was secluded.

“Helping with dinner right now, why?” She propped the phone against her shoulder as she began dishing out the salad.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Homecoming. With me. Like a date?”

She had not seen this coming, but that was probably because she had avoided romantic entanglements like the plague they had proven to be.

“Lucas…” She let her voice hang in the air. “I don’t have a dress, this is really last minute.”

“Wear anything, you can go in jeans. I just, I just want to dance with you Chloe, I swear.” He sounded sweet, not desperate and demanding. But nervous and sheepish.

“Lucas, you can dance with anyone there, you’re classically trained.” His nerves seemed to be infectious.

“They’re not you, Chloe. Please think about it? Call me back when you’re done with dinner. I won’t be hurt if you say no, but just think about it.” Lucas waited for twelve seconds before she replied.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks. Talk to you later!”

“Later.” Chloe ended the call and turned back to find her entire family had sat down to eat around her.

“Who was that?” Her mother Anita asked suspiciously.

“Lucas, Lucas Turner.”

“Well, what did the boy want?” her mother sat down and patted Chloe’s seat beside her.

“He asked me to go to the Dance tonight.”

A mix of ‘ooohs’ and teasing burst from her siblings, her cheeks flushed and she ducked her head as she fell into her usual spot.

“Do you want to go, doll?” Her father asked as he started cutting into his steak. She shrugged and then nodded.

“He’s a good guy, then, not going to get fresh?” Chloe smiled at her mom’s concern.

“He’s a sweetheart. He was there for me when I broke up with Brayden in the first place.” The name drew a stunned silence among the Roycewood family. It had gone unspoken for so long.

“Alright then, it’s settled. Aimee, you’re to help your sister get ready right after dinner. You hear?”

“Sweet! Of course, Mama.” Chloe’s thirteen-year-old sister replied, the excitement of dresses and make up turning her weekend magical.

“Thanks, you guys.” Chloe tried to bite back a smile, but her cheeks were determined to stay up.

“Anything to keep that smile on your face, doll.” Her dad nodded.

Next Chapter: The Show(down)

@mentallydatingspencerreid @dontshootmespence @ultrarebelheart @lyrasilverroseelizabethamanti @cynbx @rikersgirl22 @pllfrommars @wheresthewater  @darknesstoglowing @adropintheocean1234567 @tleighstone12 @unitchiefwives @sam-carter-in-training @prettyboysjello @ddreammcatcher @thegirlinflames  @night–hawk @t25luver @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @thismiss02 @literallyprentissstwin @usercorgis

 @natalie-fangirl

[thepsychewrites]

Started: 1/14/2022

Last Updated: 10/3/2022

↳ Hi, I’m Psyche! Welcome to my blog, ThePsycheWrites <3

↳ Here you will find a collection of all of my works thus far. As of right now I’m writing mainly for Marvel characters, but that could always change in the future. Likes, comments, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading, and please enjoy.

↳ Please take all warnings in my posts seriously. This blog is 18+ only and it is for a reason. Any minors caught interacting with my posts will be blocked. Have your age in your bio, or don’t interact. Minors are not welcome on this blog.

↳ Enjoying my posts? Check out my ko-fi !

ⓐ - Angst

ⓕ - Fluff

ⓢ - Smut/18+/MDNI

ⓓ - Dark/18+/MDNI

↳ Series

Ignite ⓐⓕⓢ

Ignite Pt. One

Ignite Pt. Two

Ignite Pt. Three

Ignite Pt. Four

This Series is now On Hold

After going nearly five years under the radar successfully, your whole world changes when a quick-witted and ultra determined redhead comes to your safe home in the middle of the night, hellbent on getting you to join a team and their efforts to save the human race.

Lost and Found ⓢ

After finding where Natasha had been hiding the past few months since the fall out after the Sokovia Accords, you were determined to never lose her again.

— — —

↳ Series

Coming Soon

↳ One-Shots

Little Lavender Friend ⓕⓢ

You and Bucky are best friends and have been roommates for the last few years, the two of you having your fair share of quarrels here and there. But what happens when Bucky finds something of yours he isn’t supposed to- something that keeps him up all night, tossing and turning and almost making him feeling… jealous?

Why Not ⓕ

The time you asked Bucky if he wanted to be roommates.

Gold on Your Fingertips  ⓕ

Bucky lets you paint his nails in an attempt to cheer you up.

Guardian Angel ⓐⓕ

You comfort Bucky after a bad nightmare.

Seeing Stars ⓢ

You give Bucky head for the first time.

Sweet Like Syrup ⓕ

Bucky runs out of syrup, which means that he’s now dragging you along to the store with him to get more, and no, he doesn’t care that it’s one in the morning.

Back to You ⓐⓢ

Bucky was used to running away. He never knew the feeling of coming back would be so euphoric.

Bucky’s Size Kink

Possessive!Bucky

↳ More

Roommate!Bucky Masterlist

The stories and encounters you and Bucky face as roommates, best friends, and eventual lovers.

Text Posts That Remind Me of Bucky  // ii

TCoaBH Moodboards i // ii

— — —

↳ Series

Little Dove ⓕⓢⓐ

Part One 

Part Two

Part Three

College wasn’t what you were expecting it to be. You didn’t have many friends, you didn’t party on the weekends, and your homework was always in on time. Things take a turn when your World War II instructor, Professor Rogers, asks you to stay behind one day after class. What will happen when lines get blurred, feelings get hurt, and two people from vastly different life paths fall in love?

↳ One-Shots

Reflections ⓢⓕ

An offhanded under-the-breath comment you make sets Steve off. He decides to teach you a lesson about talking like that- especially when the words are aimed at his best girl.

— — —

Repeat After Me

You get back to the apartment after spending a weekend at your parents. Jake does what he can to make you feel better.

— — —

↳ Series

Overture ⓐⓕⓢ

Overture Pt. I

Overture Pt. II

This Series is now On Hold

You and Spencer are sent on a side case that takes you deep in the Great Smoky Mountains. Why? You are the only two on the team fluent in all of the different languages the unsubs are using to communicate. The only problem? You and Spencer would kill each other if it wasn’t for the watchful eyes of your team. Will being crammed in a tiny log cabin for a week in total isolation change that? Or will you end up loathing one another even more?

↳ One-Shots

Forgetmenot ⓐⓕ

You and Spencer are feeling the aftermath of the biggest fight you have ever gotten in, one that was fueled by Emily’s return, both in life and to the BAU. Will he be able to save your friendship? More importantly, is he finally ready to confess the one lie he has kept from you?

Beige ⓕ

While he is the BAU’s residential genius, Spencer still can’t decipher tan from beige.

KINKTOBER 2022

Entry One: Double Penetration

- Mommy!WandaNat x F!Reader

My 1k Celebration Fic Rec List

Stucky Moodboard

[theraputicwritings]

Neck Kisses

I got this idea for a short blurp and inspiration struck. I know it’s been a good two years since I wrote anything, but I saw that Criminal Minds might be making more episodes and I felt the writing bug. This story starts off a little spicier than I typically write, but it’s not exactly sexual. However, it does have some undertones, so if you’re under 18 or uncomfortable with that, read at your own risk.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1,025

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fluff, hospitals, neck kissing

What was it about neck kisses that made them feel so good? Was it the tingles that ran down your spine through to the soles of your feet with every kiss? Was it putting complete trust in someone with such a vulnerable part of you? Or was it the feeling of love and intimacy clouding your judgment so your following decisions were just the right amount of stupid? Scientifically it was because of the large number of nerve endings on your neck releasing endorphins and dopamine with every carefully placed kiss.

Whatever the reason for why neck kisses felt so good, you weren’t feeling any of them. But maybe that’s because no one was kissing your neck. Instead, someone was choking it. And fighting as hard as you could to get them to stop. Who’s idea was it to use you as bait to get the unsub to come out of hiding? Oh yeah, that was you. But to be fair, no one else was coming up with good ideas and it was the only way you could get the guy. And you also would like to point out that it wasn’t supposed to get this far. “In and out. No biggie,” you told your team at the BAU.

So you put on makeup and a little black dress, and now you were pinned to an alley wall being choked by this scumbag of a predator. Hopefully, the team would get there before you went unconscious. You’d taken enough self-defense classes to know not to let the dude overtake you completely, but he was much bigger than you and had thrown you off guard when he decided to punch you and throw you against a brick wall, just for good measure. On top of struggling to breathe, you were also seeing stars from a likely concussion.

“You know, when I saw you walk into the bar, I knew exactly who you were.” The unsub grinned as he paused in his attempt to strangle you. “Agent Y/L/N of the Behavior Analysis Unit. I saw you talking about me on the news last night. You described me so well but you got some details wrong. So I just had to call your little hotline. Make sure you got everything right about me.”

His eyes were bright with desire. He was a classic narcissistic sadist. He got off on causing you pain and was proud of it. He continued in his attempt to strangle me, not giving me a chance to respond.

“I knew I would be caught, but I couldn’t help myself from giving myself one last joy ride. I’m going to be famous. The Bar Strangler. You know, it doesn’t have much of a ring to it. Do you think they’ll let me come up with my own name during the trial?”

There wasn’t a cue for when my team was supposed to run it, but damn, if they didn’t have good timing. The black Suburbans squealed to a stop at the entrance of the alley and suddenly you were being blinded by bright lights.

“Let her go, Jenkins! It’s over!” Hotch yelled, pointing a gun at the unsub. Unceremoniously, you were dropped to the ground and started coughing as precious air filled your lungs. The next few seconds were a blur as Jenkins was placed in handcuffs and Spencer came running over to you.

You put your hand up to let him know you were okay, but he knew you better than that. He was your boyfriend after all. “You know, I told you this was a bad idea,” he quipped, helping you stand up.

“Yeah, but we got him, didn’t we?” you responded with a grin. Spencer shook his head and leaned in to kiss you.

Your kiss was cut off as Derek came over and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “Alright, love bugs. Hotch wants to make sure you're medically cleared before we get back home. So that means Y/N, here, gets a lovely night in the emergency room.”

You pulled away from Spencer just enough so you could face Derek, but not too far so you could still use him for support. A groan came out your mouth, already knowing you weren’t going to be able to get out of this. That didn’t mean that you weren’t going to try.

“Do I have to? I already know what they’re going to say. ‘Well, Agent Y/L/N, you have a bruised trachea, a concussion, and some bruises to the face and neck. We’re going to prescribe you some pain meds, don’t use heavy machinery, and get plenty of rest and fluids.’” After your monologue, you looked to your boyfriend for the support you knew you weren’t going to get.

“The only way you can prove that’s what they’re going to say is by actually going. Come on, I’ll stay with you,” Spencer quipped before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He gently steered you in the direction of the waiting ambulance.

Once the two of you arrived at the hospital, Hotch came by to give you a lecture about how your actions were foolish, blah, blah, blah. You were pretty used to the lecture. You’d only been with the BAU for two years and had already received that lecture at least five times. It was amazing how you hadn’t been put on probation or fired yet. But you were also really good at your job and that was probably why.

Once he was done, and the doctor told you exactly what you thought they were going to tell you, you scooted over so Spencer could sit on the bed behind you. Once he was situated, he wrapped his arms around you and gently pulled your back into his chest.

He carefully gathered up your hair and pulled it to the side so he could place kisses along the bruises on your neck. “I’m so glad, you’re okay.” You closed your eyes and leaned into him as exhaustion started to take over. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered against the skin of your bruised neck, causing a shiver to go down your spine.

[persephonewritessometimes]

me and the devil / unsub!hotch x reader / chapter four

Summary: Hotch gets called on a case and has no one to watch Jack. Y/N volunteers and finds herself as a babysitter for a few days. [exposition building!]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 8141

Warnings: MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY, ANATOMY TERMINOLOGY, CHILD BIRTH [not too graphic but I will give a warning and a following summary for those who don't want to read it!], MENTIONS OF DEAD PARENT, MENTION OF BEING ABANDONED BY A PARENT one use of fuck, domestic!reader, jack is too cute for his own good

Key: y/n = your name

Author's Note: jesus fuck i'm so sorry i didn't get this out sooner!! finals wrecked my motivation and i hate plot buildingXD hopefully you guys enjoy, i've got some fun things planned for this story coming up!

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

I got the call that my car had been repaired and was ready for me to pick up the morning after I made Hotch spend the night. We coordinated with Morgan to make sure all the cars got back to where they needed to go and I no longer had to rely on Hotch’s decommissioned SUV to get me places. I would lie if I say I don’t miss it though - I felt like a badass secret agent in that car. I ended up having to skip Morgan’s self-defense class on Saturday due to Tia having a boyfriend emergency, well, now an ex-boyfriend emergency, and because of that, I was busy all weekend. I promised Hotch I would go to the next one, knowing he’ll hold me to it.

I haven’t seen Hotch for over a week now, but he texted me and let me know that they had been called on a case halfway across the country so he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. I’m disappointed, but I know Hotch has to work just like everyone else. It’s a dull weekend at the club due to poor weather - I didn’t even want to go because it was so dreary. I go to bed early Sunday night, exhausted from work and school. My phone blares in my ear the next morning - someone’s calling me. What the hell? I’m disoriented, as I furrow through my blankets to find my phone, and when I finally get ahold of it, I see that it’s Hotch. It’s unusual for him to call me this early, and a glance at the clock tells me it’s just before 8:00 AM.

“Hello?” I say into the phone, voice scratchy from sleep.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry to ask you for this, but we just got called on another case and Jess is in California this week and I have no one to watch Jack. I’ll pay you well, I just need someone to watch him for a couple of days. I’m so sorry.” He’s rambling and it’s kind of amusing to hear his stoic facade disappear for a second.

“Hotch, slow down, it’s fine. I don’t mind watching Jack, I like kids.” I say, and I can hear him let out a sigh of relief.

“You just saved my life.”

“Well, if I’m counting right, that’s the second time I’ve saved your life,” I say, smiling.

“You’ve got me there. I’ll text you the address. Oh, and you can bring Cujo, Jack loves animals.” He hangs up the phone and a few seconds later my text tone chimes, and sure enough, he’s already sent me the address. I rub my eyes for a few seconds. I’m usually not awake at this ungodly hour. When I’ve collected myself a little bit and feel more coherent, I get out of bed, Cujo cocking his head as he looks at me, like he’s also confused as to why I’m up this early I laugh a little.

“It’s okay boy, we’re just gonna go stay somewhere else for a few days.” He huffs and puts his head back down. I grab the duffel bag from underneath my bed and throw in a couple of outfits and a pair of scrubs haphazardly. I pack up my toiletries in the bathroom and grab Cujo’s food and travel dishes from the kitchen. Thankfully I didn’t unpack my backpack after studying at the library yesterday, so I don’t have to worry about packing that as well. My clinical bag is also waiting by the door. I call Cujo to the front door and he whines but gets out of bed to join me. I slip him into his travel harness and leash before slinging my backpack over my shoulders and grabbing my overnight bag and clinical bag. I feel kind of stupid trying to lock my door with what feels like my entire apartment packed into my three bags. I slowly make my way down the stairs, mindful of the leash - I can see myself wiping out if I take one wrong move, and that would be embarrassing to have to explain to Hotch.

I get Cujo clipped in in the back seat and put my bags there too. I drive to Hotch’s house as quickly as the speed limit allows. He sounded so panicked over the phone and I know he thinks he’s inconveniencing me, but he’s letting me bring Cujo, so why would I be inconvenienced? I pull into his driveway right next to his SUV and get out of my car and wave hello to him as I go to get my stuff from the backseat. My backpack finds its way back onto my shoulders and I unlatch Cujo from his hook in the backseat and click the leash back on. He hops out of the car, surveying his new surroundings. I’m reaching to grab my duffel bag and clinical bag when a large hand grabs both of them before I can get to them.

“I’ve got them.” He says, chest very close to mine when I turn around and look up at him.

“Thanks,” I say breathlessly. I shut my car door and lock the car, following Hotch into the house.

“Jack’s at school right now, but the bus drops him off at 3:00 PM and picks him up at 7:50 AM. He does have the day off tomorrow, some kind of makeup snow day, and I was hoping to be here so I could spend it with him.” He trails off and I can tell that he’s embarrassed.

“Hotch, it’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“I already called the school so Jack knows you’re here. This isn’t really how I wanted you two to meet, but it’ll have to do.”

“How did you want us to meet?” His cheeks turn pink at my question and he deftly changes the subject.

“You have my number, call me if you need anything. I should be back late Wednesday night. Jack’s a sweetheart, so you should be fine.” I nod and he gives me a quick tour of the house, pointing out the guest bedroom, giving me a guide to the alarm system, and the garage door codes.

“One question.”

“Yes?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you a ‘no animals on the couch’ kind of person? Because that might be an issue.” He laughs, and says,

“Animals are welcome on the couch.”

“Good. Now get out of here, I know you have a flight to catch.” He hesitates, face torn, and I add quietly, “Hotch, it’s okay, I can do this, I want to do this. Go do your job - catch the bad guy.”

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” He presses a spare key in my hand, kisses my cheek, and is out of the door in minutes. I lock the door after him and slip the spare key next to my house key on my keyring. Hopefully, I won’t get them mixed up.

The house is very quiet now that Cujo and I are the only one’s here. I’m not usually a nosy person, but as the minutes drag on I feel the urge to explore the house getting stronger. I worry my lip for a few seconds, torn between respecting Hotch’s privacy and satisfying my curiosity, but I ultimately give in, padding around the house and checking it out with more attention. I steer clear of the master bedroom, having to set a boundary for myself, plus I know the room will smell like him - slightly minty with a hint of evergreen and something that’s just man, just him - and I know the smell would make what’s left of my rational thoughts flee my mind. I find my way into his study, the large mahogany desk imposing and clear of any papers. All the drawers are locked, but at least three hundred books are in the surrounding bookcases. I look at the titles, but most of them don’t catch my eye, just textbooks, studies, and other papers of that kind. What does catch my eye are the dozen Harlan Coben novels. I’m not much of a reader, what with school and work, but I used to read Harlan Coben novels when I had the time. I run my fingers over the spines, recognizing a few titles, but the majority are new to me. I chew on my lip debating if Hotch would care if I read one and conclude that he wouldn’t.

I pull The Innocent off of the shelf, tucking it under my arm and retreating from the office. I settle down on the plush couch, Cujo already asleep on it and open the book. I don’t put it down until a few hours later, and only because my stomach started rumbling. I dig around in my backpack for a piece of paper and tear off an edge, using it as a makeshift bookmark while I snoop in the kitchen. Hotch told me to help myself to anything, and this man splurges on his groceries. I finally settle on a DIY charcuterie board, having cut up a couple of types of cheese, some lunch meat, and fresh fruit. I grab my book from the couch and hold it open with one hand while I eat with the other. I’m sucked in - I can’t put the book down. I love mysteries and this one with an ex-convict as an accidental murderer has my full attention. I finish the book in the early afternoon and carefully place it back into its rightful spot in the study. I force myself to not pull another book down, knowing that I have to work on homework now.

“I’ll come back for you later,” I whisper to the books.

I check the time - I have two hours until Jack gets home, a perfect amount of time for me to get some homework done. I’m currently in my OBGYN rotation, and there’s so much information I need to know for my final, which is only two months from now. I lose myself in flashcards and textbook passages when I hear the unmistakable sound of a school bus. I scramble to get off the couch, having been buried in my papers. I walk towards the door and open it, leaning against the door frame as I watch Jack get off, wave bye to the bus driver, and run up the driveway with a huge smile on his face. I smile to myself as he gets closer and then slows down.

“Hi, Y/N! I’m so excited to meet you!” He says, out of breath. 

“I’m excited to meet you too, Jack.” I move out of the way and he rushes inside. Cujo, having heard the commotion, hops off the couch and trots towards the small boy.

“YOU HAVE A DOG?” He exclaims, dropping his bag in the entryway as Cujo greets him with sniffing and wet kisses. Jack giggles when Cujo licks his cheek and he’s petting him eagerly.

“His name is Cujo, and it looks like he likes you!” I say, smiling.

“Well, I love him!” Jack pets him for a few more moments before saying, “Wait! I think I have a tennis ball in my room, can I play out back with him?”

“Of course!” Jack runs off to his room and I kiss Cujo on the head and whisper,

“Good boy.” Jack comes back seconds later and we head outside to the fenced-in backyard. Cujo sprints around the yard - we don’t have a space like this in my complex. Jack starts to play fetch with Cujo and his giggles every time Cujo drops the ball at his feet are infectious. I sit in one of the chairs on the back porch - the weather has taken a turn for the better today, the sun shining bright and the weather is actually kind of warm. I find myself lost in thought and think about this house. It’s beautiful, yes, but I would think it’s a show home due to the pristineness. The only giveaway that someone lives here is the family pictures. The air inside the house is stale, I noticed it as I was studying. As if there’s no life in the house.

“Jack, I’m gonna open some windows if that’s okay,” I call to him, “Does your dad ever open the windows?”

“Not really!”

“Well, I’ll open up a couple, get a nice cross breeze in here.” I head inside, always keeping an eye on Jack, and open some windows. They creak and groan from disuse, but even with just a few open the house feels more inviting. After about twenty minutes, Jack comes back inside, Cujo trailing behind him and I fix him a snack when he says he’s hungry. He’s watching me, and I’m watching him, both of us trying to look busy. He reminds me of his father - eyes always alert and watching for something.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a nursing student.”

“So you heal sick people.”

“Well, I try to.”

“That’s really cool! How do you know my dad?” I freeze a little bit, not sure what to tell him.

“We…met at a bar,” I fib a little, “He actually helped me get away from some bad guys.”

“Yeah, he’s cool like that,” Jack says with a smile.

“You got any homework?”

“Yeah. Math. It’s confusing though.”

“Want some help? I mostly do medication conversions these days, but I’m sure I could help a little bit.”

“Yeah!” He runs off to grab his backpack from the entryway and comes back to the kitchen table, pushing his bowl away and pulling out a paper. I glance at it, and luckily it’s something I do know - addition and subtraction. “Once I find the answer it makes sense, but sometimes I get confused on the subtraction. Especially the double digits.”

“Hmmm, let’s see here.” I watch him struggle with the first problem, not having enough fingers on his hands to get to the correct answer. “I have an idea.” I open a bunch of drawers until I find something I saw earlier. I pull out a jar of peanuts and open them. Jack laughs.

“What are you doing?”

“Just watch! Okay, look at the first problem, 12 - 5.” I dig out a handful of peanuts and put them on the table. “Okay, count out 12 peanuts.” Jack laughs a little but does it anyway. “Great, now if you were to take away 5 more peanuts, what would you have?” Jack grabs five of the peanuts and removes them from the pile. He counts them and shouts,

“Seven!”

“That’s right! Let’s do the next problem.” By the end of the worksheet, he’s got a better grasp on the idea, and in the last three problems he doesn’t even use the peanuts to solve the problems. “Good job!” I say and he holds out his hand for a high five. I smack it lightly, and he says,

“You have a weak high five.”

“Do you want a do-over?” I say.

“Yes!” I only hold back a little bit this time and he whoops when our hands meet. “Now that’s a high five!” He shakes his hand a little bit afterward, and I feel bad about it. “Do you have homework too?”

“Yes, my homework is never ending, it seems. But I graduate this semester, so no more homework after that!”

“Do you need help with your homework?”

I laugh a little, “I don’t know if my homework is appropriate for you, buddy. I’m learning about mommies and babies right now. Gross stuff.”

“Ew! I don’t want to look at that!” I laugh again.

“How about I put on a movie for you and I’ll do my homework while you watch it? Is Star Wars okay?”

“I love Star Wars!”

“Good! Let me get it in the DVD player. Which one do you want?”

“Return of the Jedi!”

“Good pick, that’s my favorite one.”

“You like Star Wars?” He looks at me with wide eyes.

“Of course! My dad used to watch them with me all the time.” I walk into the living room, grab ‘Return of the Jedi’ from the entertainment center, and put it in the DVD player. It takes me a few seconds to figure out how to get the TV on the right setting, but I eventually figure it out. Jack sits on the couch, and Cujo gets up on it as well, putting his head in his lap. I watch as Jack watches the movie, absentmindedly petting Cujo on the head, who’s fast asleep. I bury myself in my studies again, knowing I have about an hour and a half to do so.

I’ve gone through my flashcards so many times it feels like I can’t stuff any more information in my brain. I finally sigh and paperclip them back together and set them to the side. I turn my focus to the movie - Luke Skywalker has just turned himself in to be taken to Emperor Palpatine. I watch the rest of the movie with Jack and when it’s done, he looks at me and asks,

“What’s for dinner?”

“That’s a great question. What are you hungry for?” He thinks for a couple of seconds.

“Chicken nuggets?”

“Great pick. I’ll go get them in the oven.” I gather up my things and put them back in my backpack - Jack doesn’t need to see a diagram of a woman spread eagle and crowning, that might haunt him for years.

I’m in the kitchen getting dinner ready, also throwing some frozen french fries I found in the freezer on the sheet pan. I’ve just put them in the oven when I hear from behind me,

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend?” I blink a few times before turning to face him.

“Um, we’re just friends.”

“Do you want to be my dad’s girlfriend?” He asks, widening his eyes. Oh come on I haven’t even asked myself that question yet!

“I…don’t know,” I answer truthfully. I don’t want to lie to him again.

“Well, he likes you.” I can’t hide the surprise that flashes across my face. The curiosity to know exactly what Hotch has mentioned about me is too strong and I find myself asking,

“And how do you know that?” The words are out before I can stop myself.

“He told me he met a really pretty girl who makes him laugh. He said that you’re captivating and he can’t stop thinking about you.” My cheeks are boiling.

“He told you this?” Jack turns sheepish at that and shakes his head no.

“I overheard him talking to Uncle Rossi about it.”

“Oh, so you were eavesdropping?” I say with a smile and his indignation makes me laugh.

“No! I was just listening!”

“Mhmm.”

“I swear! Don’t tell him I told you, he doesn’t even know that I know.”

“I won’t tell him, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” I say, wrapping my pinky around his and squeezing tight. He sits down at the table and watches me as I cut up some fresh fruit.

“I like you. You’re nice. And you like Star Wars.”

“Thank you. I like you too, you’re fun to be around.” I say back and he smiles. It’s quiet until the oven timer goes off and I use an oven mitt to get the sheet pan out. I let it sit for a few minutes, knowing that if I plate the chicken nuggets and fries now, I’ll burn my mouth, and Jack probably will too. Jack is impatient as we wait for the nuggets to cool down, asking every few seconds if they’re ready yet. After dinner, Jack gets in the shower and I close up the windows, the air already feeling much better inside the house. I take Cujo outside to use the bathroom and clean up after him. When I come back inside Jack is out of the shower and in dinosaur-print pajamas.

“Oh, I like your pajamas!” I say with a smile and he grins up at me. “I have dinosaur pajamas too!” His eyes widen and his mouth drops open.

“You? Have dinosaur pajamas?” I chuckle at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, I have dinosaur pajamas. They’re actually in my bag right now, do you want to see them?” He nods furiously and follows me to the guest room. I dig them out and show them to him. Pink and purple stegosaurus, velociraptors, and triceratops cover the top and bottoms, and he laughs when he sees them.

“You have girl dinosaurs!”

“Hey! Boys can like pink and purple too!” He’s laughing at my pajamas and I can’t help but laugh too. “Come on, let's get you to bed,” I say and throw my pajamas on the guest bed. He grumbles but listens to me, and when I tuck him into bed he says,

“Thanks, Y/N. See you in the morning.” He yawns and rubs his eyes.

“Goodnight, Jack. I’ll see you in the morning!” I almost trip over a toy truck making my way back to the door of his room, and I shut off the light and shut the door behind me. Now it’s my turn for a shower. I shower with efficiency, wanting nothing more than to climb into bed. My thoughts wander as I do so, and I wonder how Hotch feels about having such an involved job while also having Jack. I think it would be hard. I get out of the shower and went through my skincare routine before I slip into my pajamas and get in bed.

Tuesday morning comes quickly, and thanks to Jack having the day off we get to sleep in for a little bit. He finally pulls me out of bed around 9:30, and I complain the entire time, which he just laughs at. I make us french toast for breakfast, which Jack fervently declares his love for, and then get dressed. I have one lecture today, Adult Health 4, and it’s at eleven.

“Jack, I know you don’t have school today, but I have school today, so here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna come to class to me, but we’re going to bring your portable DVD player and bring a movie or two, as my class is two hours.”

“TWO HOURS?” He exclaims. “For one class?” I laugh.

“Yes, college isn’t really fun.”

“I bet!” We get ready and I make sure everything that I need is packed and we have Jack’s DVD player with a pair of headphones. He grabs A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, and we climb into my car. I make him sit in the backseat, as I don’t have a car seat for him and drive slowly to Stafford Hospital, where all of my classes are being held this semester. I park in the farthest lot, as is our rule since we are guests at the Hospital, and sling on my backpack. It’s unusually hot today, and sticky, and Jack starts to complain the moment his feet hit the asphalt.

“Y/N, please, will you carry me? It’s hoooot.” He whines.

“Jack, you’re six, I think you can walk.” He drags his feet and I concede. “Fine, come on. I hoist him up on my hip and he wraps his legs around me, resting his head in the crook of my shoulder. I want to curse but he’s being cute so I’ll let it slide. I wrap my arms around him, supporting him, and make the long trek to the hospital. Sweat is sliding down my temple when the doors slide open and I step inside. Jack sighs at the sudden cold air. “Think you can walk now, buddy?” He nods and I set him down, but he takes my hand as we make our way through the hospital and up to the second floor.

“It’s so bright in here!” Jack says, eyes wildly tracking all the people we pass. We make our way into the small lecture room, and I get Jack and me situated in two seats in the back corner.

“Y/N! Who’s your friend?” Jenna says, making her way over to us.

“I’m Jack!” Jack says with a grin, bouncing in his seat.

“Nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Jenna!” Jenna looks at me with raised eyebrows and mutters, “Do you have a kid we don’t know about?”

I chuckle, “No, he’s my…friend’s kid. I’m just watching him while his dad is out of town.”

“Well, you two must be really good friends,” Jenna says and winks at me, and my cheeks grow hot. Jack soon commandeers the attention of the whole class and he’s telling them all about playing fetch with Cujo yesterday. Dr. Pratt comes in shortly thereafter, and even she cannot resist Jack’s infectious energy. We start class ten minutes late because of it. I get Jack’s DVD player set up and his headphones plugged in and he’s contently watching Star Wars while I’m frantically taking notes on Dr. Pratt’s lecture and asking questions at every opportunity. Jack quietly asks for a snack about halfway through, and I’m glad that I keep a bag of Goldfish in my bag for emergencies. Thankfully, the pictures aren’t graphic today so I don’t have to worry about scarring Jack for the rest of his life. Class is over before I know it, and as everyone is packing up, I tell Jack I’ll be right back.

“Dr. Pratt?” I ask.

“Yes, Y/N? What can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry about Jack. His dad didn’t have anyone else to watch him so I volunteered.” Dr. Pratt chuckles.

“Y/N, Jack was lovely, feel free to bring him again if you’d like. He was not a problem at all.” I let out a breath and thank her, making my way through the now almost empty room to pack my stuff up. Jack pauses his movie, yawns, and stretches, and I put his DVD player away.

“What do you say we get lunch, buddy?” I ask Jack as we make our way out of the hospital and into the humid air.

“Yes! Lunch lunch lunch!” He practically skips back to the car, I help him in, set my backpack in the passenger seat, get in the driver’s seat, and he’s suddenly quiet.

“Jack? You okay?” He looks shy as I glance back at him in the rearview mirror.

“Can we get McDonald’s?” He asks, his voice quiet.

“You know what, yeah, we can get McDonald’s!” He cheers and I smile to myself as I put the car in drive and make my way to the nearest McDonald’s. I get him a chicken nugget kid’s meal, as per his request, and I get my favorite meal from McDonald’s. Jack asked if we could get hot fudge sundaes, and I couldn’t resist, so those may have snuck into our order. By the time we’re done with lunch, it’s almost 2:00 PM, and Jack is falling asleep in his chair. “You need a nap?” I ask, and he furiously shakes his head no. I laugh, “Well, I think I need a nap, let’s get you home, okay?”

Sure enough, he falls asleep in the car on the drive home, not rousing as I gently carry him to his room. I run back to the car to get my backpack, not wanting it to get stolen from my car, and I put on a tank top and shorts, open a few windows, and take Cujo out back. I fall asleep in a plastic chair while sitting in the shade, and wake up when Jack shakes my arm.

“Y/N, wake up!”

“Huh? Oh, hi.” I say and rub my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Four o’clock!”

“Oh jeez, we slept for a long time!”

“Play legos with me, please?” I nod and stretch my stiff body as I get up from the chair. Jack drags his legos into the living room, we play for about an hour, Jack makes a Lego car, while I make a little house. My build looks shoddy and colorful, while Jack’s is more put together than mine.

The rest of the evening is quiet. I make dinner - frozen pizza this time - and afterward, Jack takes a shower, and I let him know the plan for tomorrow.

“So, you have to go back to school tomorrow.” Jack groans. “I know, it’s no fun. Your dad says the bus picks you up at 7:50, I’ll be up way before that, I have to go to clinical tomorrow so I have to get ready for that.” He looks confused.

“What’s clinical?”

“Oh! It’s hands-on learning. So I shadow a nurse in the hospital and they teach me the ropes. It’s really fun!”

“Cool!”

“Okay, so, I’ll see you off on the bus. My clinical gets out at 2:00, so I’ll be home before you get home.”

“Okay.” Jack yawns. I tuck him in.

“Goodnight, Jack.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” This time when I leave, I make note of the toy truck so I don’t almost trip over it again. I take a quick shower after I lock the house up and close the windows. I lay out my scrubs for tomorrow, and make sure my clinical bag is packed and ready to go. I set my alarm for 6:30 AM, already dreading it, but I’m asleep soon after my head hits the pillow.

Wednesday morning is a blur. I’m frantically making breakfast, trying to eat it, let Cujo outside, then back inside, fill up his food dish and water dish, get Jack ready for school while also keeping an eye on the time, and by the time Jack gets on the bus I feel like I need a nap. I don’t have time for one though, as I’m out of the door by 8:00 AM.

-START OF CLINICAL DAY, THEREFORE MEDICAL TERMS AND CHILDBIRTH -

When I get to the hospital, I shuck my clinical bag over my shoulder and once again make the long trek from the back parking lot to the front entrance. The Labor and Delivery, or L&D, unit is on the third floor, and I swipe my badge to get in before I meet Dr. Anshaw in our meeting room. I’m shadowing Erin today, who’s a nurse practitioner and can deliver babies by herself if the need arises, and I get my shift change notes from her before meeting our patient in room seven.

“Angie? Is it okay if I bring in Y/N, my student nurse?” I hear Erin ask from inside the room as I patiently wait outside.

“Of course, bring as many students as you want!” Angie says with a laugh. I step into the room and introduce myself.

“Hello, Angie, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m going to be your student nurse today. Can I please get your full name and date of birth?”

“Angie Lewis, January 8th, 1980.”

“Perfect,” I say as I check her wristband. “Do you know where you are right now?”

“Stafford Hospital. And it’s early spring.” She says, winking at me.

“You’re ahead of the game! On a scale of 1 to 10, one being no pain at all and ten being the worst pain you’ve felt in your life, where are you at right now?”

“Probably a six.”

“Erin, what stage is she in?” I ask as I turn to wash my hands in the sink on the wall.

“Almost to active labor. She was 5cm the last time I checked.”

“Angie, are we excited to meet the baby?” I ask and smile at her.

“So excited!”

“Are you a first-time mom?” 

“Second time!”

“So this one will be a breeze!” I wink at her and she laughs.

“Well, hopefully, my husband won’t pass out this time!” I laugh at that.

“Happens a lot more than you think!” I pull on a pair of gloves and look to Erin for reassurance. “Is it okay if I check your cervix, to see how dilated you are?”

“Go right ahead, sweetie.” She gives me a soft smile and it eases my nerves a little bit. I check her cervix.

“Almost at six! You’re about to hit active labor!” I discard my gloves and wash my hands again as Erin double-checks and affirms what I felt.

“We’ll be back in a little bit, Angie. Hit the call button if you need us!” Erin says, and I trail her out the door. “Very nice, Y/N, she’s comfortable around you.” I get sheepish at that.

“I just like what I do, that’s all,” I say and shrug, and Erin smiles at me before saying,

“Don’t downplay your abilities. You’re already a wonderful nurse.” I help her with some charting in the break room and about an hour later I’m knocking on Angie’s door to see how she’s doing.

“Angie, how are we doing?” I’m met with the sound of controlled breathing - her husband is currently coaching her through a contraction. I’m washing my hands and pulling on gloves as they finish.

“I’m okay. Active labor hit about ten minutes ago I think. Contractions are stronger and closer together, the pressure in my back is killing me.” She says. “Richard, can you put my hair in a braid please?”

Her husband jumps to her aid, pulling a hair tie off of his wrist and holding it in between his teeth as he braids her hair. Once he’s done I ask Angie if I can check her cervix again.

“Seven centimeters, you are moving along quite quickly, Angie!”

“Thank god, I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever.” She lets out a breathless laugh.

“Are we wanting an epidural?” I ask, discarding my gloves and washing my hands again. Angie shakes her head no. “Erin and I will be in a half hour. Use your call light if you need us or change your mind about that epidural, okay?” She nods, relaxing back on the bed, in between contractions.

Thirty minutes fly by, and Erin checks in on Angie, her contractions are about four minutes apart still, and she’s only 8cm dilated. Another thirty minutes go by, and Angie is now 9cm dilated and feeling a lot of pressure in her back and butt.

“Y/N?” Angie asks, wiping her forehead. “Will you stay with me? I’d feel better if I had a nurse here. I have a feeling it’s going to happen soon.”

“Of course, I’ll stay with you,” I say, pulling up a chair. Angie begins to distract herself, telling me stories of her other child, Lily, who turns four in a couple of months. She stops when the contractions hit, then resumes her stories. They seem to calm her down, and Richard chimes in now and then. It’s not very long after before Angie says,

“I feel like I need to push.” I jump up, press the call light, wash my hands, and put gloves on. Erin walks in.

“Angie says she feels like she needs to push.” Erin nods, and now it’s her turn to wash her hands.

“Go ahead and check her, Y/N.” I do as she tells me.

“10cm dilated and fully effaced. I can feel baby’s head.” I say. Erin nods, grabbing the sterile towels and blankets, and setting them up before paging the doctor on call.

“Y/N, you want to take the lead on this one?” I blink at her in surprise. I’ve never coached a woman through birth on my own yet. Erin just looks at me and I nod, situating myself at the end of the bed. I’ll move when the doctor gets here.

“I want to push,” Angie says.

“Do you want the stirrups?” Angie nods, and I swing them out, helping her legs get situated. “Dad, come and help me here.” Richard jumps up, already assuming his position on Angie’s right leg. Erin is on the other leg. “Erin, when is Dr. Rawlins going to get here?”

“He’s not answering his pager.”

“Are there any other L&D doctors on call?” Erin pauses and shakes her head. “Well, it looks like it’s just you and me, Angie.” She nods. “When you feel a contraction come on, I want you to take a deep breath in and hold it, bear down, and push until I tell you to let up, okay?”

“Okay, one’s coming on now.”

“Let’s do this, Angie, deep breath in. Hold it. Okay, push, push, push. Good! Let up and take a little break.” We do this for a few minutes, and the baby is moving, slowly but surely. The baby starts to crown and Angie insists that she can’t do it. “Angie, you’ve got this. You’re a strong woman, you can do anything. Come on, deep breath in, hold it, bear down and push! Yes! Head is out, good job Angie! Bear down for me again, and push!” My hands are ready and as Angie’s baby is delivered, I catch her newborn in my hands, rubbing her with a towel as she opens up her mouth and cries as she joins the world. Erin’s already pulling part of Angie’s gown down and when her baby is relatively clean, I carefully place her on Angie’s exposed skin. The baby continues to cry, and Angie and Richard start to cry as well.

“You did good,” Erin whispers to me. A little while later the cord is cut by Richard, and the placenta is delivered, and that’s when Dr. Rawlins decides to show up. Dr. Rawlins is notorious for never being where you need him. Erin and I exchange a look as Dr. Rawlins assesses the situation, gives his good wishes to the happy parents, and leaves again. Typical. We get Angie situated to spend some time with her new baby. Angie thanks us both profusely. “Hey, don’t thank me, Y/N did all the work!” Erin says with a smile. I get shy.

“What are you going to name her?” I ask.

“Felicity.”

“That’s beautiful!” Angie gives me a tired smile and Erin and I take our leave after cleaning up.

“So, what did you think, taking the lead?” Erin asks, grinning at me.

“Can I curse?” She lets out a laugh and nods. “That was fucking awesome.”

“Good. I mean it - you did well. Now you’ll have an adrenaline high for the rest of the day!”

And she’s right, I feel great the rest of the day, and before I head back to Hotch’s house, I check in on Angie one last time.

“Hey, Angie, I’m heading out for the day. Thank you for giving me the chance to learn from you today.” I say quietly, taking note of Richard and Felicity passed out on the makeshift couch bed.

“No, thank you, Y/N. You kept me sane.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Thank you.

-END OF CLINICAL DAY, NOTHING GRAPHIC AFTER THIS! tl;dr - Y/N helps a woman give birth and she thinks it's really cool! -

I head out to the parking lot and back to my car, getting home around 2:30, with plenty of time to shower before Jack gets off the bus. I strip off my scrubs and throw them in Hotch’s washer. I’m sure he won’t mind. I feel like an idiot trying to get it to work though, but I finally figure it out. I shower quickly, thinking back on my experience during clinical. I love shadowing Erin as she allows me a lot of freedom to interact with the patient, but getting to deliver a baby? That’s an adrenaline high I’m still trying to come off of. I step out of the shower, drying my hair some before slipping into my pajamas. I’m not going anywhere else today, I’m wiped. I let Cujo out back and wait for Jack to get off the bus. He’s right on time and sprints up the driveway to the front door, which I open for him.

“Y/N!” He shouts, as he drops his backpack and wraps his arms around me.

“Oh! Hey, Jack! How was school?”

“So much fun! We got to watch a movie today!”

“That’s so exciting!” He then looks at me and furrows his brow.

“Why are you in your pajamas already?” He asks, giggling.

“I already took my shower! I had a fun day at school too, and I needed to relax!”

“What did you do at school today?” He asks, eyes wide, and I chuckle at his comical face.

“I delivered a baby today!”

“GROOOOSSSSS!” He groans, running off to the back door to join Cujo outside. I smile to myself as I shut the front door and lock it. Jack is occupied by Cujo for the better part of an hour before he comes back inside and asks to play a game. We settle on Candyland, and the competition is cutthroat. I’m not going to lose just because I’m playing against a child. It was a close game, but Jack eventually won and gloated about it before stopping and asking for dinner. We do mac and cheese tonight. I cut up some fresh fruit while the noodles are boiling, and when it’s time to mix the mac and cheese, Jack asks to stir. I hold the pot so he can reach it and he furiously stirs the mac and cheese before letting me resume stirring it on the burner so the butter and cheese will actually melt and mix. We eat quietly, and before I know it it’s Jack’s bedtime. I tuck him in, and as I’m about to turn off the light, my phone chimes. It’s a text from Hotch.

“Jack, your dad will be back really late tonight!”

“Yay! I miss him.” Me too, buddy. Me too. I turn off the light and shut the door and head downstairs. I pull out my textbook and notes as I have a huge test next week and I want to do well on it. I’m so engrossed studying that when I check the time it’s already 10 PM. I hear the soft pad of feet that cannot be Cujo’s, as he’s already asleep on the couch. I turn and see Jack standing at the end of the couch and he yawns as he rubs his eyes.

“I had a nightmare and can’t fall back asleep.” He says softly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, come and sit with me.” I peel my blanket off my lap and he wordlessly slides in right next to me. I tuck my arm around him. “Do you want to talk about it?” He shakes his head no. “Okay, well, you can sit here as long as you like.” Within twenty minutes, he’s snoring softly, head tucked against my chest. I continue to study, and I don’t remember falling asleep.

A hand on my knee gently shakes me awake. I blink open my eyes and find Jack sprawled across me, half in my lap, my hand resting on his head that’s resting on my chest and when my eyes finally adjust to the soft light on the side table light I find myself looking at Hotch.

“Oh! Hi!” I whisper, voice scratchy. “What time is it?”

“Three. Jack has certainly gotten comfortable with you.” He says with a soft smile.

“Nightmare. We didn’t intend to fall asleep.”

“I can tell that by the textbook that’s still open in your lap.” I give him a sheepish smile, and he helps me push back the blanket covering Jack and I. Jack’s at an awkward angle, one that Hotch can’t comfortably carry him in, so I get off the couch slowly, Jack never wakes up, just clings to me like a baby sloth, ankles locking around my back as I take him to his room and tuck him in. When I turn to make my way out of his bedroom, Hotch is watching me with a curious expression on his face, one that I can’t quite place. He quickly schools his face into neutrality, moving out of the doorframe so I can leave the room and shut the door behind me.

“Tough case?” I ask, trailing him back to the kitchen as he opens the fridge and grabs the rest of the fruit that Jack and I didn’t eat for dinner.

“Just long.” He says with a sigh, unceremoniously shoving fruit into his mouth. “I can’t thank you enough for watching Jack.”

“Oh please, you don’t have to thank me. I had fun. He’s a sweet kid.” Hotch smiles to himself. “He’s lucky to have you as a father.” I watch as pink colors his cheeks. He clears his throat,

“Y/N, it just occurred to me, and I’m so sorry I didn’t ask sooner, but, where is your family from? Do you have family around here?” I’m a little jolted by the sudden attention on me, but I answer his question anyway knowing that he’s just deflecting from my compliment.

“I don’t have any family around here. We’re from all over though, my baba and I never stayed in one place for too long.”

“Your baba?”

“Sorry, that’s what I call my dad.” I shrug, a little embarrassed.

“Where is your dad now?”

“I’m not sure. He was always away on business trips when I was little, so I had to fend for myself a lot. My mom died when I was three, never really had extended family, so it was just me and Baba.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t remember her, though my dad says I look like her.”

“Do you have pictures of your family?”

“That’s the weird part - I don’t have pictures of either of my parents. My dad hated them, never took them, and never wanted to be in them. Sometimes I feel myself forgetting what he looks like, but I know if I see him in a crowd I would still be able to recognize him. When my dad disappeared for good when I was fifteen, I didn’t have anything to remember him by.” I pick at my cuticles as I overexplain the situation.

“Oh. That’s horrible.”

“Eh, it’s okay. My gut tells me he’s still alive, but I don’t know if I want to see him again after all these years. There was always something about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. His name was Isaac Smith, but I knew that wasn’t his real name. It’s like he was hiding himself and his life from me. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever know who he really was.”

“Well, I hope you find out someday. You know, for closure.”

“Yeah, me too.” He regards me, studying the planes of my face, brows furrowed as though he’s trying to figure something out.

“When I first saw you, you reminded me of someone I know, but I can’t quite figure out who.” He shakes his head. “Oh well, maybe it’ll come to me.”

“Well, if you figure it out, let me know,” I say with a chuckle.

“Hey, why don’t we have Garcia do some research on you? Try and find out who your dad is?” I swallow hard and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

He nods. “I respect that. But if you ever are ready, let me know, she’d happily do anything for you.”

“Thanks,” I say with a yawn.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m keeping you awake, aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind,” I say with a soft smile. “I delivered a baby today.” I don’t know why I want to tell him that, why I feel the urge to tell him everything about my life, but I’ll give into it anyway. His eyes widen.

“You delivered a baby?” I nod, grinning. “That’s so cool! Did you like it?”

“The adrenaline is like no other. It was a baby girl, the mom was so nice to me.”

“Of course she was, you’re like…like a shining beam of sun, lighting up wherever you go.” He says the last part quietly, not looking me in the eyes as if he wasn’t sure if he was going to say it or not. I feel my cheeks grow hot.

“Thank you,” I say thickly, and then yawn again.

“Okay, time for you to go to bed too, come on.” He says as he puts the fruit back in the fridge.

“What, are you gonna tuck me in?” I say with a mischievous grin.

“Only if I can read you a bedtime story.” He shoots back, mirroring my smile. I let out a soft laugh and he leaves me in the doorframe of the guest bedroom. “Thank you, Y/N. You saved my life this week.”

“Anytime, Hotch.”

“You can call me Aaron, you know.” I blink in surprise. “Hotch is fine, but you’re welcome to call me Aaron.”

“Okay…Aaron.”

-

chapter five - coming soon!

-

TAG LIST (want to be added? click here!): @iameternallylonely @morgthemagpie @mrs-ssa-hotch @angelmather1 @laubeck10 @rousethemouse @scarlett-jade3 @ssalinaprentiss @alexa-33 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough

[write-orflight]

The Fraction of Innocence.

**Gif Not Mine**

Anon Requested: 10, 16, and 25 for the smutty prompts thing!!!

10: “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you donna do about it?’

16: “the only way you are gonna get off is on my thigh.”

25: “she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

Pairings: SpencerXReader

Rating: M, (This is very explicit.)

Words: 4K

Warnings: NSFW!!! 18+ (Dom!Spencer, BDSM overtones, sexual conduct, fingering, bondage, etc.)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Spencer thinks Y/N is an innocent, naive girl until a case reveals her extracurricular activities. 

Spencer had been back from jail for 2 months when he first met her. 

At first he didn’t think anything of her, other than the faint smell of vanilla and daisy as she walked past him in the bullpen and the bright smile that seemed to take up half her face. She was carrying files close to her chest like a schoolgirl late to class and the skirt of her white dress bellowed softly behind her as she made her way to Emily’s office.  

“Who is that?” He had asked. 

Luke looked up to where Spencer’s gaze was. “Oh, that’s Y/N, she's a tech analyst helping Penelope out right now. She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”  

It doesn’t take Spencer long after that to decide he, in fact, does not like you. There was nothing wrong with you. Luke was right, you were sweet, almost sickeningly so. It was like you had no concept of reality. You lived in this world of all sunshine and good things despite the horror that crossed your screen daily. And while Penelope was the same, she at the very least knew how bad the world could be and chose to see the good in it. You didn’t, it was like you’d never had a single bad thing happen to you. And Spencer, who had been dealt the bad hand so many times in life hated that. 

It also didn’t help that you were gorgeous too. You looked like an artist sculpted you himself to make the perfect woman. Real People weren’t supposed to look like that. Real people were supposed to have flaws and blisters. Real people were supposed to look tired so early in the morning not fully awake and smiling while handing everyone in the office a coffee. He didn’t understand how you could be real.   

“Here you go, Spencer. Americano lots of sugar.” You said, placing the coffee on his desk. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles. 

“We have a case, by the way.” You giggle, going off to hand Luke his coffee before walking away to the conference room. Spencer was barely able to keep his eye roll at bay. 

Luke sees that and laughs, clapping Spencer on the back. “Come on, kid. Play nice.” 

“She’s giggling about a murder case.” Spencer grumbles before following him into the conference room. 

“3 women have been murdered in Queens. Judging by the scars, they were all bound and strangled before finally being dumped in an alley.” Garcia says, as she goes through the slides, showing the crime scenes. “Police need our help finding the connection between these three women because right now, it looks like there is none.” 

“I’d say.” Tara speaks up. “We have a waitress/student, a doctor, and a paralegal. All living in different areas of the city with virtually no reason to interact.” 

Spencer looks down at his file, examining the picture when he notices something. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you clear your throat.  

“Umm, Emily?” You say from your seat right across from Spencer. Emily looks up inquisitively at you. “I think I know what connects them.” 

“What’s that, Y/N?” Emily asks, raising a brow at her.  

You clear your throat again. “Victim #2, Rebecca Belfront, has a Padlock collar necklace on in her second picture. That’s typically used to indicate she’s a submissive with a committed dominant partner. But she wasn’t wearing it when her body was found which makes me think that that relationship recently ended. That made me look at the marks on their arms. While there are some new ones from the murders, they all have faded marks around the wrist and body as well. Leads me to believe the bounding was er-... consensual. We should probably look into New York’s BDSM scene.” You close, smiling awkwardly. 

Spencer looks at you in shock. He, of course, had come to the same conclusion you did and had been about to say that but he, at least, knew why he knew that. Why did you know that? 

Emily hummed thoughtfully. “It’s worth looking into. Do you mind coming to NY with us? Your insight might be needed.” 

You look kind of shocked at that but nod. “Of course, whatever I can do to help.” You say, softly. 

“Great, Wheels up in 30.” She says, getting up, effectively ending the meet. Spencer watches you speed after her, files in hand to ask some more questions. Spencer’s walking back to his desk when Luke catches up with him. 

“Y/N has a dark side. Who knew?” He says, smirking. 

“Probably not.” Spencer muses. “She could’ve just known that. I mean, I  just know stuff sometimes too.” 

“Nah, I don’t think so. Her body language gave her away. She was flushing and stuttering sure, but she was confident in what she was saying. Almost as if, she was speaking from experience.” Luke laughs. “She may be all lollipops and candy bars here, but I bet behind closed doors, she’s handcuffs and gags.”  

Spencer hums. “Maybe.” He says looking up to watch you walk back across the catwalk from Prentiss’ office. Luke was right though, your body language did give you completely away that you were talking from experience. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder just how much. 

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

When you arrive in New York, You head straight from the jet to the Police Station in Queens. You fiddle with your thumbs a bit, you are nervous. 

“You ok?” Spencer says, from his spot in front of the bulletin board he was setting up. You were supposed to be helping him but you knew Spencer was particular about some things so you let him do it. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d let Spencer do. With you, to you, you weren’t picky. The man was gorgeous enough to make you nervous. With his lean muscles, long, fluffy hair, and large hands, he looked like something that walked right out of a wet dream of yours. Which sometimes, he was just that. You weren’t stupid though, you knew Spencer didn’t think of you that way. In fact, you didn’t think Spencer thought of you in any way. He seemed to ignore you anyway he could. 

You look up from your laptop. “Oh yea, I’m fine. I’m just...nervous. I’ve never been in the field.” 

“Chances are you won’t be, Emily will probably keep you in the Station if she can help it.” Spencer provides. 

“I know, it’s just-- you know what I mean.” You say, Spencer nods before returning to the bulletin board. You stand to look at the map with him. “So, from what I was able to find there’s only 3 BDSM clubs in Queens but there’s only one in the middle of where the three women were found. Place called Cat’s Cradle.” 

Spencer hums. “How complicated and unpredictable the machinery of life really is.” You look up at the man, recognizing the quote.  

“There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look.” You say back, shrugging. 

“You read Vonnegut?” He asks. 

“You said that like you’re more surprised that I can read than what I read being Vonnegut.” You say, Spencer shrugs not even denying it. God, he was such a dick sometimes. A hot dick, but a dick nonetheless. 

The two of you turn when you hear a knock at the door to see the lead detective coming in to check on you guys. “Just wanted to see how things were coming along. Also see if you guys needed anything?” Though he only directed the question at you with a sly smirk on his face. Men were so obvious sometimes. 

“Nope, we’re fine.” You smile although you didn’t want to. “We’ve narrowed down to a couple BDSM clubs so hopefully we’ll catch our guy soon.” 

“Wait, you think these girls were…” He trails off. You nod, knowing what he was thinking. “Well, it probably serves them right.” 

“Excuse me?” You say. 

“Listen, I know what kind of girls go into those kinds of clubs. If they want to be sexual deviants, they can’t be surprised when shit like this happens to them.” He gestures to the board. 

“Actually more women are into Dominant/Submissive as well as BDSM relationships than you would think, statistically 85%.” Spencer cuts him off. “These clubs are just commonplace for them to meet like minded people just like you would do in any other club and they should be put on trial after their deaths for trusting the wrong person. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to work, Detective.” He says, turning back towards the board. The man nods and leaves shortly after that. 

“Thank you.” You say, softly. 

“What for?” Spencer asks. 

“Come on, I work with profilers and I’m not stupid. I know you guys know about me so thank you for defending me just now.” 

“I wasn’t defending you.” Spencer says. “He was making inappropriate comments about victims and we don’t need that outdated way of thinking working on this case. Besides…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “You’re not the only one with… unconventional extracurriculars.” He turns and walks out after that leaving you watching after him. 

What? 

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

 After delivering the profile, you find the Unsub, a man named Ivan Parke. The only thing left to do was find the best way to snuff him out. When the team is discussing the next best course of action. It’s then Luke comes up with the idea. 

“We should send Y/N undercover.” He says. “She knows the profile and knows the most about the scene.” 

Emily nods. “Is that something you’re comfortable with, Y/N.” 

You look up. “Oh, um yea. I’d have to find a different outfit but you have to send someone with me.” You say, everyone looks at you confused so you sigh and explain yourself. “If you send me into a club like this, in a foreign place with no Dom, the Unsub isn’t going to be my only worry. Someone’s going to have to play my dominant.”   

“I’ll do it.” Spencer speaks up. Your eyes widened, you were not expecting Spencer to agree to it, you assumed you’d be stuck with Luke. Now you’re going to have to spend the night with the man you’d been crushing on since you started working with the BAU as his submissive. Like that wasn’t a dream come true. 

“Great.” Emily says, dismissing everyone and handing you an expense credit card for an outfit. You take it and leave immediately, ignoring the sly look Spencer gives you. 

You ended with a short, low-cut black leather dress with tank-like sleeves that showed off your curves and left very little to the imagination. As well as a clear pair of platform heels. You pulled your hair back into a sleek ponytail and you topped the look with your own personal leather choker with a large circle knob in the center. It was one of your favorite pieces to wear though you never really got a chance to wear it unless you were going to clubs, which you didn’t do as often these days. It was an expensive piece sure, but so worth it when you got to wear it. You were doing your makeup a little darker then you usually do in the bathroom when Spencer comes in. 

“Is this how you typically look on the weekends?” He asks, standing behind you in the mirror. You look up to look him in the eyes through it. 

“If I have the time.” You shrug. 

“It’s very different. You’re very different from how I thought you were.” 

“And how did you think I was, Spencer?”

“Naive...innocent.”   

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed anything about me.” You say, turning towards the man. 

“Maybe you’re right… That’s an expensive piece.” He points out pointing to your choker. “Emily’s going to have fun explaining that at the next budgetary hearing.” 

“I didn’t buy it today.” You explain. “It’s mine.” 

Spencer hums for a moment before lifting his hand to turn your jaw, examining the piece. You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the contact. Spencer was already so close to you and now he was touching you, it was already starting to be too much. Soon, Spencer is hooking two fingers into the circle knob of your choker and he yanks it. Involuntarily, a whimper falls from your lips, prompting a smirk from the man across from you. 

“Tonight’s going to be fun.” He says before leaving you in the bathroom in a state of shock. 

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

 After getting your comms set up by Luke, who tried to avert his eyes from your frame as much as possible, you and Spencer walk into the Cat’s Cradle. Typically you didn’t like the club scene, but you sometimes liked to venture out when looking for a new partner. Cat’s Cradle was definitely different than the other places you had been. Sure it still had the private rooms and the main stage where a scene was happening in front of you but it was a lot more laid back than the ones you went to in DC. Spencer was really enjoying his role too. Probably hamming it up too much because he knew there was a part of you that actually wanted him to. In the end, finding Ivan Parke was easy. He took the bait almost instantly and you were arresting him just as fast. 

“Great work tonight guys.” Emily says, when you reach the hotel lobby. “Jet’s leaving at 7AM so make sure to get some rest.” She says, dismissing you. 

Now begged a tricky situation because you had almost forgotten you and Spencer were rooming together. As you walked back to the room together the air was thick but both of you were silent. The tension had been building between the two of you since he yanked your choker in the station bathroom. You knew it was a matter of time. The dam had to break. 

“You can shower first.” Spencer says. You nod, taking off your choker and grabbing clothes before taking solace in the bathroom. You wanted Spencer and you knew you needed to expedite this. After a much needed shower, you change into your pajama shorts and tank combo. Spencer steps into the shower almost as soon as you leave it. It’s then that you think of the perfect plan. You lay on the bed and spread your legs before slipping a hand down your shorts. You tease yourself at first, rubbing your clit through your underwear while you thought about the events of the night. How Spencer had been so authoritative. How his hand slid to the small of your back and sometimes ghosted your ass as the two of you walked around the club. How he had been so close in the bathroom. The way he yanked you closer. A small moan escaped you as you slid your hand in your underwear. Soon you hear the bathroom door open. Spencer stops short, watching you before leaning on the frame. 

“Were you just touching yourself?”

“Yes.” You answer. “Are you gonna to do something about it?” 

“Should I? Instead of telling me what you want you decide to act like a brat and do this.” 

Spencer moves closer to the bed but doesn’t do anything, just continues to watch you so you decide to give him a show. Moaning loudly as you slide a digit inside of you. Spencer looks at you with hooded eyes. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you. 

“I think you’re going to give me what I want.” You say, smirking. 

“And why’s that?” He says. 

“You’re already weak.” You say. 

“I’m weak, pretty girl?” He asks, incredulously. Before you know it, he’s ripping your hand out of your pants and crowding in the space between your legs forcing you to sit up and look at him. “You’re in here touching yourself to the thought of me like a horny teenager and I’m the one who’s weak? Ok.”  He sits back and pulls you by your hips to sit on top of his lap, your legs straddling one of his thighs. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh, ok?” He tells you, starting to move your hips. You moan, nodding your head as the friction makes its way through your core. Spencer lifts your shirt off you and smirks when his eyes land on your bare breast. He leans forward to catch your left nipple in his mouth. Your back arches as you grind harder against his thigh. Your hands fly up to start unbuttoning his shirt when he stops you. 

“Did I say you could touch yet, princess?”  He asks. 

“N-No, sir.” You stutter. 

“Then keep your hands to yourself.” He says, putting your hands back to your side. He does indulge you by taking his shirt off himself. But that doesn’t help you keep your hands to yourself. You saw the lean muscle and craved to mark it up with your nails. Your hands go up to touch him again but he stops you. 

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to tie you up, Princess. Just be good, baby.” 

You were already close before but now with Spencer’s hands and mouth everywhere and constant friction on your sex it was damn near pushing you off the edge. 

“I’m gonna come.” You tell him, he grips your hips tighter, lifting his leg slightly so he was only rubbing against your clit. That makes you moan out loudly. 

“Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me.” He says, and that was all you needed to fall right over the edge. Your legs shake and convulse as Spencer grips your hips help you ride it out.  Soon you come down panting and he’s kissing into your neck. He pulls back and grips your jaw. 

“Still think I’m weak, Princess?”  He asks. 

You knew it was unwise. In fact, you tried to stop yourself before you did it but it was too late. You reared your hand back and slapped Spencer across the cheek. Not hard enough to be seen as anything malicious but sharp enough to throw him off, like he couldn’t believe you had done it.  

“Yes I do.” You say looking him in the eyes after. Something like a switch went off because there was no other way to describe the look he gave you other than feral and fully primitive. He pushes you off him. 

“Get on your hands and knees, now.” He says, menacingly. You scramble and run to get into the position. Once in, Spencer forces your knees further apart. He angrily takes his belt off his pants before fashioning them into a makeshift cuff and pulling your wrist so they’re tied behind your back, leaving you face down into the mattress. He slides your shorts and underwear off in one go. You yelp loudly when the first slap comes to your behind. When the second and third slap comes, you try to squeeze your legs together to get some form of friction but Spencer forces your knees further apart. You moan out when you feel a digit slide against your folds. You try to push back on it but Spencer holds your hips in place. 

“P-Please.” you stutter. 

“What do you want, Princess?” He says, sliding a second digit inside you making you cry out more. 

“Please, fuck me, Spencer.” You say, and you really didn’t have to ask twice because almost as soon as you ask Spencer’s hands leave you to finish unbuckling his pants. There’s a brief moment of calm, so calm that you almost think Spencer wasn’t going to give you what you want but that calm is interrupted by Spencer slamming into, no warning. You scream out but that’s only rewarded with your head being shoved more into the mattress to muffle your cries. Spencer’s hands are pulling on your cuffs so he is almost impossibly deep inside you. You moans start to get louder and louder. Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you up so you’re both sitting up, your back against his chest. One of his hands slides to grip around your neck while the other is moving to circle your clit. The hand around your neck tilts your jaw back so you’re looking up at the man behind you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Open your mouth, Princess.” He orders, which you do instantly sticking your tongue out. Spencer leans forward and spits into your waiting mouth before locking his mouth with yours. His hand squeezes your neck tighter as you moan into his mouth as he starts fucking you faster, his dick hitting your g-spot almost every thrust. It’s not long before you’re just babbling, not even able to string a coherent sentence together. 

“You gonna come for me, Princess?” He asks. You nod, moaning loudly. At this point, you knew there was no way the person in the room next to you guys didn’t hear you. You could only hope that it wasn’t one of the team. “Go ahead for me, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” After that, it doesn’t take long before you’re falling over the edge, shaking all the while. Spencer fucks you through it before tightening his grip on your hips to bend you back forwards so your face is back on the mattress. He fucks you hard and fast before falling over the edge himself, moaning your name. 

The two of you say nothing as he unties you. When he does, you instantly flop down on your back, breathing heavily. Spencer wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom. For a moment you think he’s just leaving you like this, that you were foolish to think Spencer cared anything about you but in that moment he comes back with a wet cloth and ointment. He says nothing as he wipes between your legs before tossing the towel aside. You watch him with a smirk on your face as he rubs the ointment on the red marks the red cuffs made on you. 

He looks you in the eye. “What, Y/N?” 

“What happened to Princess?” You say, Spencer just looks at you with a bored expression which only makes you smile more. “Now’s probably a good time for you to ask me to dinner.” 

Spencer chuckles lightly at that. “You don’t want to go to dinner with me.” 

“I’m almost positive I do. Why would you say that?” You ask. 

Spencer looks you in the eyes at that moment. “I’m not-Y/N, I’m not like you.” 

“Like me?” 

“I’m not able to be cheery and smiley. I can’t float into rooms. I can’t be happy like you are, too much has happened to me. You deserve someone happy.” 

“Spencer.” You say, looking him in the eyes. “You are not broken. You can be happy, it’s going to take time sure but I’m willing to be with you through that. If you want that.” You say. 

Spencer nods. “Ok, Y/N.” he smiles. 

“So….?” 

He rolls his eyes at that. “What’re you doing next sunday?” 

You smile, brightly. “Absolutely nothing.”    

Perm. Taglist: @moonshinerbynight​ @crimeshowtrash​

[ggukkieland]

📕BTS Fic Reads - 2021 March pt. 1

I appreciate all these fics as they’ve provided me comfort, distraction, etc during these times. So thank you dear authors. Sending you love 💖

If you end up checking the fics in this list, please don’t forget to show appreciation by reblogging or giving positive feedback to these authors 🥰.

Note: if link doesn’t work, click on author and go to their masterlist

🥕 Ongoing - most recent chapter [as of date this list was posted] 🥕 Completed - completed one shots | series 🥕 S - smut | F - fluff | A - angst 🌷 with commentary on completed fics (if reading these help)

--- Some are new, some re-reads, while some are past reads that haven’t been reblogged yet. Mostly mature.

🥕[Ongoing Series] - Social Media AUs (SMAUs)

Catching Feelings @na-na-na-nanna​ - MYG | smau | Goblin!Yoongi, Fantasy, must kiss humans to gain human emotions | Crack, F, A, S [12/?]

Cursed @bloomsuga​ - KTH | smau with written parts | Supernatural AU, Witch!Taehyung, Cursed!Reader | Crack, F, S, slight A ! [3/?]

Just Facts @yoongiiverse​ - JJK | smau | Rich Idol!jungkook, Model Dancer!Reader, Enemies to Lovers | Crack, F [5/?]

Kinda Hot @kimnjss​ - KTH | smau with written parts  | Campus Flirt!taehyung, Bestfriend!Reader, Bestfriend AU, College AU | S, F, A [15/?]

Made of Honor @suhdays​ - KTH | smau with written parts| best friend AU, made of honor!au (like the film) | F, A [18/?]

Best Man @yoontaethings​ - KTH | smau | enemies to lovers, player taehyung? | F, A, S (written) [6/?]

🥕[Ongoing Series]

🌹 Jungkook

Almost Home [reposted/revised] @angelguk​​ - JJK | 27k+ | Single Dad AU, Nanny, slight Fake Dating | A, F [2/?]

Bands @xpeachesncream​​ - JJK | 55.9K+ | Idol AU, Stripper AU | A, F, S [14/?]

Confident @h0neypjm​​​ - JJK | 13.1k | Fuckboy AU, Virgin!Reader | S, F, A ~ [2/?]

It’s a Heartbeat @inkofyoongi​​ - JJK | 23k+ | Enemies to Lovers, College AU, their parents are dating, Jungkook is the South Korean Patrick Swayze and this will turn into a Dirty Dancing!AU nobody asked for 🤭 | A, F, S [1/?]

No Harm List @crazy4myself​​ - JJK | 93.5k+ | Mafia AU, Gang AU, Slow Burn | A, F [10/?]

Normal Kind of Love @/yoontaethings - JJK | 2.5k+ | Actor AU, Exes AU, Enemies to Lovers | A (so far) [1/?]

Open When @iluv-hobi​​ - JJK | drabble series, 2.6k | idol au, established relationship, epistolary | F ~ [2/?]

Picture Perfect @cosmoguk​​ - JJK | 5k+ | parents AU, exes AU (divorced) | A, F | [1/?]

Sleepyhead series @jkstompers​​ - JJK  | 18.2k+ | College AU, Seatmates AU, Crush AU (lol is there such a thing) | F, S

Sleepyhead - “you fall asleep during class next to the uni heart throb jeon jungkook, will you fall in love as well?” 1.8wc

Just to Study - “your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.” 7.4wc

Passing Notes - “a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date.” 9k wc

Supermodel @koogalore​​ - JJK | 10K+ | Exes AU, infidelity AU, Jungkook is a jerk, Curvy!Reader, talks of body image | S, A [3/?]

The Realm @nottodayjjk​​ - JJK | 3.5k+ | Mystery, Fantasy, OC wakes up in a dark place not knowing where she is, afterlife feels | A [3/?]

The Weeping @themfchase​​ - JJK | 6k+ | Medieval, Dystopian, War, Fantasy AU, Romance, angels/demons | A [1/?]

Wasteland @iridescentjin​ - JJK | 4.5k+ | Sci-Fi AU, Post-Apocalyptic AU, isolation | A (so far) [1/?]

Your Love’s the Only Hoax I Believe In @sparklingchim​​ - JJK | 12.7k+ | College AU, Fuckboy AU, FWB AU, Tutor AU, Unrequited Love | A, S [2/3]

🌹 Yoongi

Birthday Girl @btsarmy9593​​ - MYG | 22K+ | one night stand AU, Noona AU, Professor!Reader, Post Grad AU | F, S [5/?]

Daechwita @/jinings (temp deact) - MYG | 20k+ | servant!yoongi - king!yoongi, princess!reader, period drama, Historical AU | All that Yoongi knows is that King Park must be killed- he just didn’t plan falling in love with his daughter along the way. | A, F, eventual S [2/?]

Silent Dreams @starlightauroras-writes​​ - MYG | 5.7k+ | Best Friend AU, sleeptalking OC while dreaming dirty thoughts about her best friend | S, F [1/?]

🌹 Multi/OT7

Holy Trinity @koyalov​​ - JJK x KTH x PJM | 9k+ | FWB AU, infidelity AU (other woman), Rockstar AU, Band AU, Bestfriend!Jungkook, FWB with other maknaes (yes it’s complicated) | A, S  [1/?]

Playmates @scribblemetae​ - OT7 | 22.6k+ | Idol AU, Sex Worker AU, Strangers to Lovers | S [2/?]

Roses @heejinnien​ - OT7 | 12.7k+ | Crime AU, Mystery, Horror, OC becomes target of the unsub | A [4/?]

by Author

Foxymoxy [AO3] - (JJK)  been following this author since last year (A Sea of Indigo, Hybrid AU) and her fics are amazing. Currently subscribed to these three (out of four) fics which get updated weekly:  🌷

Meadow (Wolf, Shifter AU, Arranged Marriage)

Amended (Arranged Marriage, Fake Marriage, Police Office AU, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Lovers)

Lowlander (Fantasy AU, Enemies to Lovers, Fighter Jungkook)

@jimlingss​ Drabbles 2021

Three Peas in a Pod || Fluff || Namjoon || Single Dad!AU 🌷

Suspended, Seduced, Surprised! || Fluff || Jungkook || E2L

Lotus Blooms in Mud || Angst || Jimin || Historical!AU

Buttering Up || Fluff || Yoongi || Chef!AU

The Office Trip to Pound Town || Smut, Fluff || Taehyung 🌷

Snow White and the Park Ranger || Fluff || Seokjin 🌷

Humdrum Amore || Fluff || Hoseok 🌷

Awaken Again || Angst, Fluff || Namjoon || Sci-Fi!AU 🌷

The Soulmate Gift || Angst, Fluff || Yoongi || Soulmate!AU

Floof’s Tail || Fluff || Jimin || Hybrid!AU 🌷

Take What Isn’t Mine || Smut, Angst || Jungkook

Crocodile Tears || Fluff || Hoseok || Pirate!AU 🌷

🥕[Completed Fics/Series]

Namjoon

Little Red @/bloomsuga - one shot | 22.5k | Werewolf AU, got lost in the woods, inspired by Little Red Riding Hood | S, F, A

Pheromones @rmnamjoons​​ - one shot | 17.5k | Spaceship Captain!Namjoon, Botanist!Reader, Sci Fi AU, Pining | S, F, A 🌷

Stuttering @moonlightchildz​​ - one shot | 11.6k | Tutor AU, Underground Rapper, College AU, Secret Identity | F, S  🌷

There’s a Fly in My Soup @sahmfanficbts​​ - drabble | 1.8k | Cafe Owner x Customer!Namjoon, Cafe AU, Strangers to Lovers, Crack  | F, A (in form of one very stressed OC) 🌷

You’ve Got a Friend in Me @wwilloww​​ - one shot | 3k | Bestfriend AU, Roommate AU, interesting idea to reduce stress levels | S 🌷

Seokjin

All I Ever Wanted @hayjeon​ - one shot | 10k | Teacher AU, Enemies to Lovers AU | F, S 🌷

Voicemail @joonary​​ - one shot | 7k | College Podcast AU, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Bestfriend AU | F (💕fluffy day reblog)  🌷

What Made Us Feel Human @joonsgalaxy​​ - drabble | 2.3k | Neighbor AU, thought neighbor’s noise is due to sex but it’s something else, Crack | F 🌷

Yoongi

Accidents @jungxk​​ - drabble 2.4k | Dad AU, Comedy | F (💕fluffy day reblog)🌷

Are You Still With Him @/joonsgalaxy - drabble | 1.7k | Roommate AU, Producer AU, Friends to Lovers, secret pining, use of song lyrics in the fic | F (I really love how it made use of different song lyrics in the story) 🌷

Avec Mes Souvenirs @palpitate-hyperventilate - one shot | 3.5k | Nikita!AU, Assassin AU, Trainer Yoongi | A

Dad Yoongi + Pawful Experience by obiwrites (through reblogs of her old posts) - drabble | 2.1k | Husband AU, Dad AU, presence of Holly and one resistant Yoongi | F (ugh this is the cutest) 🌷

Earn It @sugasbabiie​​ - one shot | 5k | College AU, Professor AU, PWP,  PLOT TWIST! | S, A 🌷

Hidden Stars @jungblue - series [5/5] | 37.3k | Idol AU, Love Triangle, some reference to infidelity | A, F, S  (a reblog of old faves) 🌷

In Character @kookingtae​​ - one shot | 5.7k | Pornstar AU, “actor au where yoongi plays a burglar who breaks into your house and has his way with you.” | S 🌷

Listen Closely @avveh​​ - one shot | 12.2k | Office AU, Coworker AU, accidently received a recording of Yoongi 🌶🥵💦 | S (reblog) 🌷

Love Language @gukslut​​ - one shot | 5.3k | Established Relationship, use of the Love Language concept | A, S, F (reblog) 🌷

Overstayed Welcome @kaep-jjjang - one shot | 7k | secret crush on yoongi, yoongi to the rescue when a one night stand won’t leave, friends to lovers | S

Selfish @write-this-way-please - two shot [2/2, sort of discontinued] | 3.8k | Coffee Shop AU, kinda hated each other, then a bit of surprise by end of Part 1 | Part 2 feat Namjoon | S, A

Slip @kinglykook​​ - one shot | 5.2k | Roommate AU, Enemies (kinda), OC slipped | S (a rediscovered fic 🤩) 🌷

Tsundere @dovechim​​ - one shot | 11.2k | College AU, Resident Advisor | S, A (a reblog) 🌷

Hoseok

To The Beat of My Heart @jeonggukingdom​​​​ - one shot | 7.2k | Dancer AU, use of mirror 🥵💦| S, pwp 🌷

Written on Our Veins @army-author​​​ - two shot [2/2] | 33.2k | Soulmate AU (💕heart day reblog) 🌷

This is Not a Love Story @sincerelyourfangirl - one shot | 8.7k | breakup au, infidelity, but happy ending for OC | A 🌷

Jimin

Cordially Jimin @kpopfanfictrash​ - one shot | 6.1k | Office AU, Epistolary (through correspondence), Humor | F (💕fluffy day reblog) 🌷

Saturday Mornings @craztextae​ ​ - drabble | 2.2k | Pining AU, Strangers to Lovers(?), Plot Twist! | S 🌷

Girls Like You [Don’t] Run Around with Guys Like Me @ktheist​ - one shot | 4k | popular!reader x shy!jimin, Rich Kids AU, FWB AU, College AU, ends as CEO (PJM) and Racer (OC) | A, F

Taehyung

A Letter in Roses @artaefact​​  - one shot | 8k | Husband AU, CEO AU, appearance of Yeontan | F, implied S

A Timely Malfunction @/joonsgalaxy - drabble | 2.9k | time travel, friends to lovers, prompt:  “What? No, I never said that.” | F

College FWB Drabble + PDA + Miscomm @yukheii - drabble | FWB AU, College AU | F (seriously this is super cute) 🌷

Handsy @jinned​​​ - one shot | 3.7k | Roommate AU, Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friends AU, Pining | taehyung helps her during time of need | S, F 🌷

Hold Still @/joonsgalaxy - drabble | 2.1k | CEO AU, use of flashlight 🙈 | S, pwp ( I’ll Never look at flashlights 🔦 the same way again)

Not Even Close @lovetrivia​​ - drabble | a powerful 600 wc | enemies to lovers, college au, hookups | S, pwp, A 🌷

Of Mages and Swords @masterninjacow​​ - one shot | 40k | Fantasy AU, King Arthur AU, Royalty AU, Action, Romance | A, F 🌷 #holygrailfic

Potent But Not Real @whatifyoulivelikethat​ - one shot | 5k | Assassin AU, Office Worker Taehyung | S, A

Talk Slow @writtenwhalien​​ - one shot | 6.4k | brother’s best friend, Exes AU, never have I ever game | A, S, F

The Temp @jkeuphoriadreamland​​ - one shot | 8.2k | Enemies to Lover, CEO AU, Taehyung has arranged marriage with someone else (headed for divorce) | S, F 🌷

Jungkook

gets a separate post due to too many fic reblogs 😬 (see link below for PART 2)

I love to read so feel free to recommend a fic posted: 2021 March 24 link to other reading lists  | Mar Part 2