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bippot · 1 year

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Summary: Every now and then Peacemaker has a solo mission. Whenever these happen, Vigilante has to be distracted so he doesn't make the solo into a duo. The only person that is capable of that is the girl that Adrian hates... no, that can't be right. He doesn't hate her, not really. Quite the opposite, actually.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Movie Night, Inspired by Scream (Movies), Cock Warming, Blow Jobs, Awkwardness, Ghostface Mask (Scream), Roleplay

Music Recommendation: She's Crazy but She's Mine by Alex Sparrow

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

There was something about Y/N that Adrian didn't like. She wasn't particularly mean. She wasn't incompetent. She wasn't overly uncouth. He never could put his finger on why she irked him so much. All he knew is that there was something different about her from the rest of the 11th Street Kids and that if someone were to ask him what it was, he wouldn't have the faintest idea what to pinpoint.

"Black coffee for Harcourt," Y/N said as she placed the cup in front of Emilia. Of course she left Adrian till last. She always did. "And winner of the sweetest order known to man - or rather man-child - for the third consecutive month, here is your mocha cookie crumble frappuccino with two sugars, Adrian."

His drink appeared before him with a flick of her wrist. It looked good, no matter who gave it to him. It smelled heavenly. He took a sip, closed his eyes, and sighed blissfully at the taste. For the next few hours, he'd be on a sugar high.

"Y/N, take him with you to the store," Emilia ordered. There was no way she was keeping Adrian around when he would be jumping around the room, making annoying noises and distracting everyone from their work. Plus, somehow, Y/N could contain him. She had the patience to deal with his long rambles of nonsense and endless questions. It drove most people insane.

Not Y/N though. She simply smiled and nodded. "Come on, bud. We're doing a medicine run."

"Hate it when you call me that," he muttered under his breath as he stood up from his seat with a huff. He followed behind her obediently as he drank his drink, holding the cup with both hands to ensure he didn't drop it.

As they walked out, the pair saw Chris walking towards them. He was late. Like usual. That's one thing Adrian loved about Chris - he managed to make tardiness look cool. Fuck, everything Chris did was cool to Adrian.

"Hey dude!" Adrian yelled cheerfully at his friend and waved. And since they were best friends, Chris would definitely want to know "Tonight is my night off and was thinking, totally just a thought and not something concrete, you know, I'll get some beers and we could hang-"

"Oh my God, your voice is super whiny in the morning."

Seeing the way Adrian's face fell, Y/N couldn't help but retort, "It's one in the afternoon, dickwipe. Get inside. Your coffee, which I should've spat in, is on your desk," and pulled Adrian away to her car before Chris could say something else.

The pair made it to her car in silence, but it didn't last long. As he sat and buckled in, Adrian had to chastise her, "You shouldn't talk to Peacemaker that way. He's a nice dude! And as his number two bestie, I can't see you disrespect him like that."

Rolling her eyes, Y/N started up the engine and drove off. He always did that. If it came to light that Peacemaker had been the one who killed his family, Y/N was doubtful that Adrian would put aside his admiration and try to get revenge. That wasn't the case, but sometimes she wondered why the actual fuck he idolised the big goon so much.

"Okay, buddy."

"Stop calling me that."

Silence ensued again, then Adrian started rambling about his favourite House of The Dragon character, which was Aemond by a long shot because "Not only does he have an eyepatch, like all badasses do, but he delivered one of the coldest lines of the whole show."

Obviously, he was talking about, "I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon," and Y/N knew that too as she recited the line to him.

"Yeah! Exactly!"

There it was again. That feeling that made him dislike being around her reared its head. Adrian hated it. He tried to ignore it, even when it became a real problem. Because honestly, what the hell could he possibly do anyway? Fight her? Sure, he could, but that was probably the stupidest plan Adrian had ever come up with.

Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Where did that brain of yours go?" she asked. He didn't realise that he'd zoned out until she brought him back to reality, and he found himself staring at her. For a moment, he forgot where they were. Oh right, she was driving…And she was looking directly at him and waiting for an answer...

His throat felt dry. "Um..."

"Ade, you okay?" she prompted, concern clear in her tone.

"Sorry, I was daydreaming."

She narrowed her eyes sceptically at him but chose not to comment on it. She just shook her head, as if telling him not to worry about it, and continued on with their previous conversation, her voice soft and calming and soothing and beautiful, like honey pouring down his ears - which was a contrast to their other friends.

It was always "You fucking idiot" from Harcourt. Or, "Dude, you're so Goddamn weird" from Economos. Sometimes a "What creepy little planet do you live on?" From Adebayo. And, a guaranteed "Not now, dipshit" from Peacemaker. None of that came from Y/N. No, she spoke to Adrian in a kind, gentle tone as if he mattered, as if he were a human being, as if he weren't some freaky piece of shit who was constantly causing trouble for her and their fellow colleagues.

A smile curled onto his lips involuntarily, unbidden and without meaning to, causing the corners of his lips to raise higher than they ever should. This was what Y/N did to Adrian. And he hated it. Hated how she controlled him. How she made him smile and laugh and feel things that he had never felt before. He didn't enjoy it. At all.

But he was powerless to stop himself from doing it. Because, after all, Y/N was pretty cool and funny and cute, and she got along really well with just about anyone. And Adrian, well, Adrian didn't possess such skills. He was alone. And that was fine. He could deal with the loneliness by himself. Alone. Completely alone.

They arrived at the store at the same moment the coffee began to take effect. The first indication that the caffeine rush had started was when Adrian slammed the car door and Y/N was sure that he was only a few newton's away from breaking the window.

"Woah. Careful, tiger."

It worked. His mouth shut, and he nodded. "Sorry. Still not used to having muscles."

As soon as they came across a bin, Adrian nudged Y/N to make a big spectacle out of it when he threw his empty coffee cup at it. "Kobe," he cheered with an expectant grin. He missed the bin and ended up hitting the wall behind it instead. The sound of plastic smashing against the bricks and the unmelted ice going everywhere reverberated through the parking lot.

"Go pick it up."

He complied as quickly as he could. By the time he returned from picking the trash up, Y/N had got a basket and was inside the store, already walking to the pharmacy section. He sauntered over to her, trying to look inconspicuous while taking his sweet time so he could watch every little movement she made. It was his own personal surveillance mission.

Her hair seemed to bounce every time she stepped. Everytime. And every time the bouncing happened, Adrian felt the urge to reach out and touch it, just to watch the way strands swirled around his fingers. Like, was it as soft as it looked? He hoped it was greasy and gross and completely disgusting to touch.

When he got to her side, he stretched to grab the bandages she was trying to grab at but was failing to because she was a little too short. With an almost coy smile, he smiled down at her and tried not to have a heart attack as she gazed up at him with the most beautiful doe eyes he'd ever seen.

Those damn eyes. Did this woman have no shame? Was she purposely flirting with him? Or was she seriously oblivious to all the feelings he was having for her? Either option sucked. Either way, the fact remained that Adrian Chase was experiencing feelings.

Feelings! Of all fucking things! Gross! Uncomfortable, annoying, horrible, embarrassing, disgusting emotions! And, he wasn't sure how much he hated how much it affected him. That was the worst part. Or maybe the worst part was that deep down he may have, possibly...there was a chance - no matter how slim - that he sort of liked having that weird fuzzy feeling in his brain whenever he saw Y/N. Maybe. Just maybe. A tiny bit. Not much, of course. A smidgeon. Enough, however, to be alarming.

"Ah, my hero," she teased, bumping his shoulder lightly with hers, and then proceeded to carry on down the aisle. "Do you want the fun band-aids?"

Scratch that. It's actually a lot. A colossal amount of like. Who knows, maybe he even adored her attention in the way a heroin addict is fond of spoons. Or heroin.

"Is that a question you even need to ask?"

Chuckling, she dropped two packs of Hello Kitty plasters into the basket. That basket was quickly taken from her hands and the handles were soon nestled in the crook of Adrian's arm.

"About later on - you know, what you were saying to Peacemaker - I'm not doing anything. If you want someone to hang out with, I'm free," she offered, and he looked slightly startled as she did.

There was no way someone was willingly going to invite him to spend time with them.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be sick of me by then."

"Impossible," she scoffed, shaking her head at the idea. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm quite fond of you, Adrian."

And there it was again! The butterflies, not the alien body snatcher kind either. His heart was doing that stupid flip that it did whenever she said words like this. And that was why he needed to change the subject before they said something stupid that neither of them would be able to take back.

"Can I get some candy?"

"Sure."

Skipping to the confectionary aisle, Adrian was quick to survey the sweets as if it were the most important decision he could ever make in his entire life. Y/N stood beside him, an adoring smile on her face as she observed his antics but soon felt her phone buzz in her pocket and diverted her attention to that.

Boss Bitch: Run distraction tonight. Solo mission.

Adrian crouched down to get a closer inspection and almost lost his balance, but, like second nature, Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. That simple touch did strange things to Adrian. But Y/N was oblivious to the effect she had and even went further to move her fingers to rest on the top of his head, stroking gently through his hair as she texted with Harcourt.

Peacemaker had solo missions every now and again. As did Vigilante. Though Vigilante did have a habit of intruding Peacemaker's solo missions. Why not? He wanted to spend as much time with his good buddy as he could. And a helping hand was always good, right?

Since Adebayo went back to her dog business and Economos had been promoted to be the warden of Belle Reve, Y/N was added to replace them both. Yet, there had become a new dynamic between the current four members of the 11th Street Kids.

Emilia had become an unofficial handler of Peacemaker. Y/N had done the same for Vigilante. The women were dignified badasses in their own right, but the other half of their squad were dignified idiots who needed, for lack of a better word, babysitting. So, often, Y/N was tasked with distracting Adrian for the entire night if Chris had a mission.

"Wanna have a movie night tonight? I've been planning to rewatch all the Scream's in prep for the new one," Y/N suggested, giving his head a little scratch so he'd pay attention to her words.

"Hell yeah! Fucking love those movies!" he cheered, craning his head back to beam up at her with the brightest smile on his face, making Y/N chuckle softly at his excitement. There was something endearing about a man who was so willing to show true, unfiltered enthusiasm.

After that, he gathered way too many snacks that he knew were perfect for their upcoming movie night and followed Y/N around with so much pep in his step. The rest of the day passed by in a blur, the hours passing in a flash as he waited for work to be over so he could get the frickin party started.

He'd been talking nonstop, which he usually did, and Y/N did a lot of nodding as he told her all sorts of trivia about the franchise. Sometimes she zoned out, not because what he was saying wasn't interesting - it was - but because he had a habit of getting the words out so fast that they would blur together and it took so much focus to hear them, break them down and understand that she stopped trying all together.

"Roman is actually a badass. He did all that shit by himself, y'know? Yeah, 3 is not the best and Jill is the most entertaining, but Roman not only was the singular ghost face - a real independent dude - but he was the mastermind behind Billy and Stu so that's some crazy planning! Although in the original script Angelina was supposed to help him out with it so you can take that into account if you want to..."

Her head fell onto her hand, watching as he talked and gestured animatedly with his arms. She found herself staring at him with a small smile forming on her lips, the warmth in her chest rising to her cheeks when he finally paused.

"What?" he asked, looking up from his hands and meeting her gaze, a slight flush of pink staining his cheeks as well.

"Nothing," she replied, shaking her head.

"Sorry, I was boring you. I get it. I'll -' He mimed pulling a zip over his lip, but still carried on talking. "I'll shut up, sorry. Peacemaker tells me all the time that I just go on and on and on and-"

"Please keep talking, Adrian. I'm enjoying listening to your voice."

Bullshit. He called bullshit. Complete. Only an idiot would fall for a trick like that.

"Yeah right," he scoffed dismissively, glancing away as he twirled his car keys around his pointer finger. "I promise I won't talk throughout the movie. I promise."

They'd watched the odd movie together before so she knew this was not entirely true. He often liked to add commentary and facts along with the film. Films were the easiest way to distract him. She was saving the Lord of the Rings marathon for a really important Peacemaker mission. And the Twilight marathon was for a life or death mission.

"I just need to shower and get changed. I'll be at yours in forty. Sound good?"

"Sounds good. Like, so good," he agreed readily. "See you in a few."

As he watched her walk towards her car, he let out a long breath and tried not to think about the fact that it would be just them. Just the two of them in his small apartment, the lights low and popcorn popping as they sat curled together on the couch as he tried his absolute best to make her laugh. He'd make sure she paid attention to him and not a movie. Every single bit of her focus needed to be on him, or he'd die. Actually die.

God, was he pathetic. Utterly pathetic. This crush was too strong. Too intense. It was a disease. And it didn't matter how hard he fought against it. It simply refused to leave his system and left him feeling weak. Weak and helpless and utterly alone in the vastness of the cruel existence she'd doomed him to live within for the foreseeable future.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to feel down about it. He was cursed, yes, but a life without Y/N in it had been ten times worse than his current lovesick one. Ten times worse. Maybe ten thousand times worse.

Once he arrived at his apartment, it was go time. Adrian hurried to clear the odd bits of tat he'd left out and found the few comforts he had to throw on the couch to make it seem like this place looked lived in. His house was spartan and impersonal because he rarely spent time there. And due to the fact that it was a small place anyway - a tiny kitchen/living room, bathroom, bedroom, that's it - there wasn't a lot of space for him to have a bunch of shit. The majority of shelves were lined with DVDs and cupboards stuffed full of weapons.

Between his job and patrol, he only used his house to shower, jerk off and watch tv. (usually in that order). His car was the central hub for his life. The Vigilante mobile was where he ate, napped, changed clothes, and watched stupid YouTube videos to entertain himself when patrol got particularly boring.

Now, however, he had to pretend that he was a normal, dateable person instead of an insomniac workaholic. So much for the 'I need to impress her' speech that he gave himself whenever these movie nights happened. Y/N never seemed to mind his ineptitude at interior design, though.

There was one piece of hair that suddenly wanted to drift right in the middle of his forehead and it was pissing Adrian off so much as it would bounce back as soon as he swiped it away. The moment he went to pick up the scissors to really deal with it, his doorbell went off and stopped the whole new haircut moment from happening.

With no time to waste, Adrian swung the door wide open to reveal a very comfy looking Y/N wearing a pair of sweats and a loose fitting cardigan, one hand stuffed inside her pocket, a bottle of wine in the other one. He only realised he had been examining each aspect of her until she teased, "You gonna let me in?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," he stuttered, stepping aside, his brain not yet coming up with a reply that came close to sounding cool. What else was new?

Y/N breezed past him, greeting him with a quick squidge on his bicep as she made her way into the kitchen. He stared after her for a few seconds before following suit. As she set the bottle of wine down on the counter beside him, his eyes narrowed curiously as he asked, "Wine?"

Wine tasted too much like acid for him to like. Had all these adults lying about how nice wine had been his entire life? Because every time he tried it, it was as if someone had blended a battery and placed it before him as if to say 'Voila! Why don't we take grape juice, keep it in a jug until all the good things about the taste are removed and then pretend that it's better now?!'

Beer was just as bad. Does alcohol have to taste bad? Adrian thought. It would be nice if there was liquid out there that would make him look like an adult when he drank it - let's be real, cocktails gave a tendency to look stupid, especially if there's little umbrellas or sparklers in them - but be actually nice to consume.

Almost as if she had read his thoughts, Y/N announced, "Supposedly, it tastes like cotton candy. I was curious," and began unwrapping the foil around the top and pulling at the cork until a pop was heard, and she smiled widely, pleased at the sound.

And, since he hadn't moved to get them glasses - Jesus, of course he didn't own wine glasses - she took a swig from the bottle and held it out for Adrian to do the same. He hesitantly complied and took a small sip. Surprisingly, a pleasant and sweet taste spread through his mouth, which was something he'd never expected, and he let out an approving hum.

"Good?"

"Yeah, good. Really good," he answered with a nod and handed the bottle back, wiping his mouth clean on his sleeve. This wine didn't make him gag. He could appreciate that. "What food do you wanna order? There's a new Mexican place in town. I know you like Mexican so..." He trailed off unsurely, his hand searching for the menu he'd picked up just in case this moment ever happened.

Once he found it, he handed it to her and watched as her eyes lit up. "Oooooh!" She grinned happily, opening up the page and scanning the options.

Adrian observed in silence as she evaluated every picture and mumbled to herself about what they should order, occasionally pausing to look up at Adrian to check if he also liked the dish. He nodded and hummed and said the occasional thing when necessary, but he felt a little awkward standing around and guided her towards his couch so they could sit.

While Y/N phoned and ordered, Adrian busied himself by putting the movie on and neatly ordering the next consecutive movies on his coffee table. It was unneeded, but he got some weird kick from seeing them perfectly in order. Who knows why.

Then the call was done, and they could start, as you usually do, with the first movie in the franchise, Scream. They sat shoulder to shoulder, occasionally passing the wine between them. Adrian was a little stiff at first, his back rigid against the cushions, but eventually calmed down and started leaning into Y/N more with every passing minute. Her shoulder felt soft against his cheek. He'd soon come to realise that.

But, his annoyance spiked once the delivery driver knocked on the door, thus causing his head to no longer be resting against her. He was suddenly bereft of Y/N's warmth and quickly decided that killing the delivery man might have been a good idea. No. No. He couldn't do that. Instead, he took a breath, got to his feet, and retrieved their food with a grumpy pout on his face. So what if he was a little rude to this one random guy? At least he didn't kill him.

The moment his butt hit his sofa again, he dug right in, shovelling the food into his mouth faster than he thought possible. Honestly, he forgot when he last had a proper meal. The last week or so, he'd been on patrol a lot and took very minimal breaks for snacks.

"There's a common theory that you can tell if it's Billy or Stu behind the mask by the way they hold their knife," Adrian mumbled through a mouthful of food, his words barely comprehensible. "Stu holds the knife with two hands over his head, while Billy holds it with one hand and gets really into it..." He continued to ramble on about random facts about the film while eating, unable to stop himself. Since Y/N wasn't stopping him, why would he?

Y/N was nodding along, listening intently. Her eyes shone with interest, and her lips were slightly curved upwards. It was weird. Being listened to was weird for Adrian. He liked it, but he hated it too. Whenever he spoke and it fell on deaf ears, that was fine because his words wouldn't really amount to anything. They didn't matter since the other person wasn't going to remember them anyway.

Often, he lied and made up facts and tried to spread misinformation as a way to entertain himself. If his words held no weight, he might as well make them fun to say. He told the truth around Y/N, though.

When she looked at him with those beautiful eyes and listened to him talk without interrupting, he always felt a need to share himself. Share what he knew, what he found interesting in the hopes she'd find it interesting too. He liked to think that she did find it entertaining, and, most importantly, he liked her attention.

Even when his words were nothing special, even when he had no use for them anymore, Y/N still cared enough about him to listen, to pay attention to what he had to say. That was a feeling he couldn't help but treasure.

Finishing the final bite of his food, he crumpled up the wrapper and threw it at the bin. "Kobe!" This time, it went perfectly in. Then, satisfied with himself, he flopped back onto the couch pillow with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling and letting his mind wander.

Wouldn't it be so crazy right now if I, like, kissed Y/N? And she'd totally swoon and say, 'Oh Adrian, I think you're so cool and hot and would make a great ghostface. Huh, I bet you'd be even better than Roman.' Then we'd really start making out, and she'd be soooo impressed by how big my dick is. 'Why does Peacemaker call you thimble?' and I'd be all like 'He's just jealous of how sexy I am' and she'd giggle and agree, and that's how it would go down.

"Hey bud, you okay?" Y/N's voice cut through his musings, breaking him out of his trance and startling him for a second before he remembered where he was. Right. Y/N was beside him. Thinking of her in such a way was kinda weird when she was right there. Kinda. His gaze shifted to her, noting that she was looking back at him with a raised eyebrow.

A small shy smile spread across his face as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yea, yeah. I'm alright." He paused for a beat before he added, "What about you? Are you...okay?"

"...I think so."

"Good. That's good. Yeah, y'know, just say the word if not cause I'll totally... I'll do whatever I can to make you happy, like whatever. Need me to kill someone and I'll fucking do it, no question... just say the word, Y/N, whatever it is..." He trailed off nervously, scratching at his cheek and trying to sound as casual as he possibly could as he added, "I... I'd do anything for you."

Well, that came out of his mouth. Shit. Fuck. Oh fuck. Shit shit shit. There was no way, no fucking way that she would misunderstand the sentiment there. Panic instantly erupted throughout every single cell of his body.

Yet, the expression on her face softened. She leaned towards him, brushing that stray lock of his hair that had been annoying him so much away from his forehead, placing her fingers gently underneath his chin and tilting his head upwards. He blinked owlishly, watching her, waiting for her to speak.

Just as it seemed as if she was going to say something heartfelt, the infamous garage door death appeared on screen and Y/N's eyes flickered over to it briefly before settling back on his face, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

The sincerity behind his reply was evident.

"Pass me the blanket then."

Thank god. Adrian relaxed, let out a chuckle, and obliged, pulling the white fluffy blanket that hung beside him on the armrest and tossing it towards her. She caught it deftly and draped it over herself, holding the corner out to him expectantly.

"I don't bite."

"Hm. Sure ya don't," he laughed, moving closer and taking the fabric to wrap it around himself. He glanced sideways at her for a split second, catching a glimpse of her smile before she turned her face to the screen.

Huh, this had gone way better than he ever expected, and the relief he felt was undeniable. He sighed softly, inconspicuously sliding an arm on the back of the couch and subtly brushing his fingers over her shoulder. His heart hammered in his chest. He could feel his pulse racing and his cheeks burning bright red.

This was nice. It definitely was. The silence, the warmth, the comfortable atmosphere, everything. He never wanted this to end. He never wanted it to leave. But he knew it eventually would have to go, so he pushed those thoughts aside and rested his eyes on the screen, ignoring the pounding in his chest and the sudden butterflies that filled his stomach.

Scream one ended, and he'd managed to fully wrap his arm around her shoulders, resting comfortably on her without any misguided belief that she was oblivious to his moves.

All throughout two, he occasionally poked at her cheek or pulled at her ear, trying to divert her attention to him. Every time she'd smile and look at him from the corner of her eye, only to return to the TV and pretend to focus on the screen. Then, when he had done it enough times to actually be irritating, she caught his hand before he made contact with her cheek and placed her fingers between his own, lacing their fingers together.

Rather abruptly, he posed the question, "Who is your favourite ghostface?" and she took the time to ponder her answer. As Y/N thought, she gently tapped her fingertips against his knuckles, and that unconscious movement brought a blush to his cheeks.

"Jill is the obvious answer. She's a girl boss, and I think - I have no idea if this is a popular theory or anything - that she got Charlie to do most of the killing because she wanted to seem as innocent as possible. Only Charlie and Trevor died by her hand."

"Hmmm..." He hummed, thinking it over for a second. "That's actually pretty smart."

"Yeah, I'm a genius." Her playful tone was clear. "What about you?"

"Stu, I guess, cause he's the funniest. Or Roman. Or maybe Mickey since he was charming despite it all."

"And handsome."

He nodded and hummed in agreement but felt a brief pang of jealousy that only got worse when she admitted, "Mickey was definitely the hottest ghostface." Yet, it turned into a sly grin when she added "Though I gotta say all of them are pretty hot... that mask does something...something, I don't know what, to me."

"Even Mrs Loomis?"

"Especially Mrs Loomis," she replied with a smirk.

Ah, a plan was formulating. He just had to wait for a moment alone to execute it. After all, it wasn't every day he had the exact thing he needed to fulfil her wishes.

That time came sooner than anticipated when she excused herself to the bathroom as Adrian was in the process of putting Scream 3 on. They were already three and a half hours into the whole marathon, and taking a break maybe was beneficial, Adrian thought.

Was it a prank? Or a seduction technique? That would all depend on her reaction.

Y/N finished up in the bathroom and planned on moving back to the sofa and, most importantly, back to the comfortable embrace she'd been in. When she arrived at the couch, Adrian was nowhere to be found. Had he left? Was he in the kitchen getting more snacks? She didn't see him in the kitchen, and his house wasn't really big enough to hide in. Sure, they'd turned the lights down to ensure they got an 'authentic' cinema experience, but it wasn't that dark.

The only way she would have minor trouble when being able to see him was if he was wearing all black. He hadn't been. It was what he usually wore: blue jeans and a nerdy t-shirt.

"Ade? Where'd you run off to?"

She looked around but she saw no signs of him anywhere. Weird. After patting herself down to find her phone - which was in her backpocket like usual - she went to send him a quick text but was interrupted by someone yanking her back into their chest and a knife pressed against her throat.

Right next to Y/N's ear, she heard a very distinctive voice ask, "What's your favourite scary movie?" and she relaxed a bit in their arms. She should've guessed he'd have the whole ensemble, mask and all.

"Probably Jack and Jill, that Adam Sandler flick, god, it was awful. Just torture, if you ask me."

There was a robotic snort omitted from the mask.

"What about you, Mr Ghostface, what movie scares you?"

"17 Again. I'd kill myself if I had to revert to my teenage self."

Shifting her head to get a better look at the mask, she unconsciously bit down her bottom lip as she took it in, her eyes trailing all over it as if she was studying every inch of it. And when he held the tip of the blade under her chin to tilt her head up, there was no denying that she gulped rather thickly.

"You feeling a bit woozy there?" He smirked beneath the mask, leaning in towards her, the tip of the blade grazing along her jawline. She couldn't help but shiver slightly but didn't move back from the touch, keeping her gaze locked onto the mask.

Some small part of her brain was ringing alarm bells. Murder happy dude who likes to wear a mask is an apt description for both Vigilante and Ghostface. But, she told it to shut the hell up, to shut the fuck up and just go ahead and enjoy yourself, right?! It was Adrian, after all. He'd had plenty of opportunities to murder her before and hadn't taken it.

"Maybe I am," she replied in a breathless tone , her heart starting to thump loudly inside her chest. His smirk widened into a satisfied grin, and he cocked his head to the side.

Wordlessly, he let her out of the grapple and sat back on the sofa as if nothing had happened, leaving her slightly confused, somewhat disappointed, and very flustered. He reached over and grabbed the remote from where he placed it on the coffee table earlier and pressed play on the next movie. He didn't look over at her, nor did he acknowledge what had just happened at all as she took her place beside him.

Tension was thick in the air and neither dared to utter a single word. Y/N was watching him out of the corner of her eyes because, as safe as she felt, it was still weird to have ghostface right next to you while that same icon was killing people on screen.

Adrian was gathering the courage to make a move. An actual move and not one of those juvenile tricks that he'd got away with earlier. With his head facing the TV, his hand found the drawstring of her sweatpants and he undid the bow with dexterous precision. Once the strings came loose, he slid his hand slowly through the opening, letting his fingers trail along the fabric and lightly brush against her inner thigh.

Y/N inhaled sharply, not daring to take her eyes off the screen, afraid that if she moved, he would disappear and she'd wake up in bed with a crick in her neck from such a wonderful dream. It seemed surreal. It seemed too good to be true.

His hand travelled further up the hem of her panties and dipped to touch the soft skin underneath; she closed her eyes, her heart beating faster as his forefinger started a gentle circling motion on her clit. Slowly. He was giving her a chance to stop him if she wanted to. But she didn't want to stop him. Oh God, not at all. If anything, she wanted Adrian to go even further.

So, in the hopes he'd get the memo, Y/N shifted her butt closer to the edge of the couch and moved her hips to ensure that he'd have access to do whatever he pleased. When he kept torturing her with his movements, she tilted her head to the side to look at him.

"Eyes on the screen."

Her gaze remained on the mask.

"Watch the movie."

Still, she hadn't moved.

"You deaf?" he teased, using his free hand to grab at her chin and yank it back towards the TV. He could feel her face growing warm at his touch, and that made his lips curl into a smile behind the mask. Her eyes were locked onto the screen, and his thumb stroked the underside of her bottom lip. "I said," he repeated slowly, as if to emphasise his point, "Are you deaf? Answer me."

"No! No. I... I can hear you perfectly." Her voice sounded breathy, strained and filled with excitement. His smile grew wider as he watched her. "Just, um... distracted."

She licked her suddenly dry lips, and a flash of light caught his eye. The glow coming from her phone illuminated the dark room. He took hold of the device in question.

"The boss wants to talk to you, you wanna talk to her?" She shook her head and tried to snatch the phone out of his hands but was unsuccessful. He chuckled softly as he accepted the call and held it against Y/N's ear.

"L/N, Peacemaker's mission was a success," Harcourt began, sounding relieved. "You are free of Vigilante watch for the night."

"Oh, okay. Good to know," Y/N replied with far too much poise for Adrian's liking, taking the phone out of his hand.

Without warning, he slid his fingers down to her entrance and pushed his middle finger into her core, making the poor girl gasp.

"You okay there, Y/N?" Harcourt asked in concern.

"Hrmm, yeah. Fine." Y/N cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. This was definitely NOT how she pictured her distraction to go.

How the turntables.

Harcourt was unconvinced, Y/N could tell. "If you say so..." There was some rustling as if the person behind the phone was in a mini scuffle, then Emilia added in a huff, "Hang on, Chris wants to say something."

Hearing his buddy's name, Adrian decided to get bolder and began fucking two fingers into her, curling them in an effort to create the most obscene noises he could possibly imagine. Y/N bit down hard onto her lower lip so she wouldn't let out the most pathetic whine ever known to mankind.

"H-hey Chris."

"Is Adrian still with you?"

"Yeah," she answered breathlessly, daring to look across at Adrian again.

"Tell him to buy a four pack and meet me at my trailer."

Underneath the mask, Adrian was a mess. Y/N was letting him fingerfuck her and Peacemaker wanted to hangout? It was such an awesome day. Although, given his current situation, he was a bit preoccupied to give in to Peacemaker wishes.

"I'm busy," Adrian replied curtly. "Tell him."

Y/N shakily nodded and did as he said. "Ade says he is busy. Can't hang out tonight. Sorry!" Then, she quickly hung up and let out all the noises she'd been holding back until now. Adrian chuckled darkly at the sight, his smirk widening when he noticed she'd gone red, flushed with passion, and was writhing around on the sofa, coming undone just because of his fingers. His. And it only spurred him on more.

"Either you take your clothes off, or I'll cut you out of them," he threatened, his smirk turning into an evil grin as he trailed his fingers up along her thighs. She squealed when he hit a particularly sensitive spot with his middle finger, arching her body slightly upwards. "Which one will it be?"

Doing a mental price check for everything she was wearing, Y/N came to a decision. She held up her forefinger, and he stopped, letting her undo the clasp of her bra, wiggling it out from under her shirt and tossing it somewhere on the ground.

"It was an expensive bra," she shrugged with a grin, "The rest of my clothes? They are far more disposable."

For the first time in a really long time, Adrian's hand was slightly shaky as he held the knife. Adrenaline, lust, and a fear that because he couldn't fit his glasses under the mask that he might accidentally hurt her, flowed through every inch of his being as he pushed her so she'd lie with her back against the couch cushions.

Slowly and in, what he hoped would be, a sensual manner, he dragged the blade down Y/N's chest and stomach, not enough to cut the fabric yet, but enough to make her breath stagger and tremble in anticipation. Y/N bit down hard upon her lower lip, her eyes wide open and pleading at him above her.

Adrian placed his knees on either side of her thighs, bracing himself with one arm, and he gently booped her nose with the tip of the knife. Her face scrunched up cutely, and a small giggle fell from her lips.

"Can't believe I didn't know you're such a dirty girl, L/N." He trailed the knife down her cheek and down her neck, enjoying the way it elicited moans from the woman underneath him. As he neared her collarbone, he glanced up. A mischievous glint in his eye as he finally put some force in movements to cut through her shirt, revealing her breasts in all their glory to him. Adrian stared at the sight like a starving man who had just spotted the last morsel of food on a plate.

Before he had the chance to do anything else, however, the familiar sound of someone unlocking his front door could be heard. Adrian quickly did up the first button of Y/N's cardigan, threw the knife onto the coffee table, and flopped down on her to hide any glimpse of skin from Peacemaker.

It obviously was Chris. Who else had a key? The dead Chase's?

"Vee, what the hell are you doing that is more important than hanging out with -" Chris stopped as he surveyed the scene in front of him. "What are you wearing, dude? Is that a dress?"

"It's a robe."

"What?"

Tugging the mask off to reveal his flushed, sweaty face, Adrian repeated, "A robe. A ghostface robe."

"You two are fucking weird," Chris commented as he leaned forward and plucked the mask from Adrian's hands to examine it further, and then proceeded to throw it over the back of a nearby armchair. "Well, this looks boring. I'd rather slow dance with Bill Cosby than spend time watching you two do... well, whatever that is." Then he gave Adrian one final once over and grinned. "Text me a rating out of ten if you hit that."

Y/N rolled her eyes at Chris's comment while Adrian simply glared daggers at his friend. This definitely was killing his game. Fuck, he didn't even have the mask on anymore. The illusion was broken. Would she even want to go forward with him as just Adrian?

"Peace out, assholes!"

As quickly as he'd arrived, Peacemaker had left them alone again. Adrian tried his best to avoid eye contact with Y/N, which was proving difficult as her eyes seemed glued to him. Shit. Here comes the inevitable repulsion.

"Ade?"

"Hmm...?"

"Hey," she cooed and gently tilted his chin so he would finally face her. "Do you want to stop? We don't have to if you don't want to."

He sighed. "I want to." And he did. He desperately, desperately wanted to continue, to continue and explore every inch of this beautiful woman beneath him. To taste her lips, to feel her softness, to feel her warmth. He wanted everything about this moment. "Do y-you want to?"

"I do." Y/N gave him a bright smile, a genuine one that reached her eyes, making Adrian feel like 'Yeah! This could happen!' so he shot to his feet and went to retrieve the mask. But, she caught his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. "I'd like to see you without that thing on. To see your handsome face. Is that okay?"

Dumbly, he nodded, still trying to wrap his head around what she was saying. Had he been hearing this right? She wanted to see his face? While they fucked? He hadn't fucked someone as Adrian in a really long time. Vigilante was the guy who did all that. The last time Adrian did this as himself was...probably the time he lost his virginity.

She got to her knees on the couch, her kneecaps resting by the edge of the arm of the sofa, to be tall enough to cradle his cheek in her palm and caress it softly. Adrian closed his eyes, savouring every sensation she provided him with. His heart felt as though it was beating double speed, his blood pumping furiously in his veins, his lungs burning for air.

What was happening? Why was he feeling so goddamn good? Did her touch affect him this much? How could it? He'd never experienced love before. Was this how other people felt? Were humans supposed to experience happiness like this? Was he supposed to feel like this, to be overwhelmed by emotions, to want things more often, to crave more and more?

"Was it warm under the mask?" she asked in a quiet, playful whisper.

"Always is."

That made her grin wider and he couldn't help but return it. Her thumb ran slowly over his bottom lip, brushing across the soft skin lightly, teasingly. Adrian let out a light, shaky sigh and opened his eyes.

"Can you kiss me? I'd kiss you, but I can't seem to get the nerve to," he pleaded softly, looking at her shyly, his eyes full of hope.

In spite of all his doubts, she let out a giggle and did as he asked. She cupped her hand around his jaw and started at the mole on his cheekbone, kissing her way down his cheek until she finally reached his lips. And there was no hesitation, not even a single thought, as he reciprocated the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist firmly while her fingers threaded through his hair.

They parted after a moment, yet Y/N was quickly drawn back in when Adrian's large hand drifted to her ass and pulled her tighter to his body. He deepened the kiss, pressing his lips firmer against hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth boldly, taking possession of every corner of it greedily.

The longer they kissed, the more intense their kisses became until their lips were swollen and puffy and red. But Adrian found that he didn't care at all. He had never felt so alive; so free. And he knew without a doubt that this was the only woman who could possibly make him feel like this.

"You gonna take your 'dress' off?" she teased, giggling as he nuzzled his face into her neck and bit at her shoulder in response to that comment. "Ouch!" She exclaimed and laughed, trying to push him away, but Adrian wouldn't allow it. He kept hold of her waist, refusing to let go as he pressed his lips to every inch of her neck and shoulders.

When he finally pulled his face away, Adrian could hardly keep himself standing upright as he tugged the ghostface robe over his head and tossed it aside. He'd learnt that it was insufferably hot under there one Halloween and didn't make the same mistake of wearing his t-shirt and jeans underneath again.

Standing there in just his underwear, he suddenly got a little self-conscious and held his hands over the very obvious bulge forming between his legs. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, and she chuckled at the adorable sight before reaching out to take his hands away from his groin and lead them to her hair.

"Keep my hair out of my face, will you?"

Once again, he nodded as if there wasn't a single thought in his head and never had been, and obliged, collecting her hair in a makeshift ponytail. Although, he almost lost all grip on it as soon as she leaned forward to plant a smooch on his clothed cock before pulling away.

"Can I pull your underwear down? They look awfully tight," she whispered huskily, her fingers playing with the waistband of his boxers.

"Uh... yes, yes please. If you want."

"I do want." With that she pulled the fabric down his thighs to reveal his naked, erect cock, waiting eagerly for her touch. "May I?"

"Please."

Gently, Y/N wrapped her hand around him and squeezed, causing him to emit a low groan. Her eyes flickered upwards, meeting his as her tongue darted out to lick the head of his cock. Her touch made him feel like he was falling apart at the seams, but he had to remind himself to remain calm. He needed to stay strong and not cum in two seconds because that's fucking lame.

She'd think he was such a loser if he did that.

Adrian's confidence built as she began running her mouth along his length. He moaned loudly as he gripped her hair in order to ground himself, feeling so dizzy that he thought it might be the alcohol for a brief second. Then her mouth was closing around him, and, yeah, it was definitely the blowjob that was making him lightheaded.

"Oh fuck," he grunted, clenching his teeth tightly so that he wouldn't moan any louder. It would be so embarrassing if she heard him like that!

Wait a minute. Y/N had often told him that she wanted to hear whatever he had to say. Did that extend to whatever noises he'd make too? She had been the one to offer what was happening. Soo... A groan was let loose from his lips to test the waters.

Around his cock, she moaned and took him deeper into her throat. He wasn't a scientist by any means, but that seemed like a clear example of cause and effect. So he repeated the sound, a little louder this time, eliciting another loud moan from her.

This revelation relaxed him about the whole thing. Before he'd been preoccupied with seeming totally normal, and now he could enjoy the fact that a pretty girl was sucking his dick and enjoying it too.

That was all the reason he needed to move his hips and start fucking her mouth faster and harder. His hands bunched up her hair and tangled themselves in it as he praised, "Fuck, you're great. You’re driving me insane, holy shit. I wanna bruise that throat so badly. Can I do that, baby? Please?" He begged desperately, unable to hide the desire in his voice.

"Yes," she breathed heavily, regaining some semblance of composure before she gave it over completely to him.

Soon, he was a babbling mess of words and lustful rants that sounded like, "Take it all… Ahhh… fuck… you’re so beautiful… You always are... on your knees… swallowing my cock down… I'm desperate… so fucking desperate… I need you so bad…" He continued to ramble incoherently, losing control over his thoughts and actions as he let his orgasm roll over him and explode inside her mouth.

He could feel his entire body shudder uncontrollably, his breath short, and his balls tightening up to a point where he was sure they might break. Her hands caressing up and down his thighs were the only thing grounding him and keeping him from toppling over.

Finally, he regained some sense of equilibrium and came to his senses. He looked at Y/N and found her smiling sweetly at him. He couldn't resist the urge to laugh and gently brush away the tears in the corners of her eyes with the pad of his thumbs.

"Sorry, uh, sorry if I was a bit rough. Didn't mean to," he stammered anxiously, embarrassed.

"I liked it."

"Really?"

"Mhm..."

From the TV, a gunshot rang out as Sidney, in her attempt to rescue a bound and gagged Gale and Dewey, fired at Ghostface, and Adrian couldn't help but turn to watch. "The unmasking is just about to happen, this is always my favourite part," he said excitedly and planted his ass back down on the couch, absentmindedly making grabby hands at her until she got the memo.

But before she sat, Y/N removed her clothes to remind him that, yeah, he had chosen to watch Scream 3 (the worst one) instead of continuing their intimate moment, and perched on his thighs, her back resting against his chest.

"Oh hi, hi there," he grinned sheepishly, wrapping an arm around her stomach to pull her closer against his chest and resting his chin on her shoulder. She rolled her eyes playfully and snuggled further into him.

It took no time at all for the skin on skin contact to rile him up once again. She felt his member twitch impatiently against her backside as he rubbed his nose against her neck and shoulder, letting out an involuntary growl as he inhaled sharply.

With very minimal efforts, Adrian pushed Y/N forward a few inches and positioned his cock against her opening, slowly pulling her back down on him. She gasped at the sudden invasion but she adjusted to the sensation.

Yet, he didn't move just yet. He returned his gaze to the screen and tried to pretend that he wasn't literally inside her, which was difficult considering how many dreams he'd had about this moment. He had dreamed of being inside Y/N countless times, but this moment seemed more than perfect. The warmth of her body wrapped snugly around him, the softness of her skin, her intoxicating smell surrounding him; everything about this scene was blissful.

Y/N was squirming and wriggling on top of him, apparently eager for more action. He smiled softly as he moved his hands up and down her waist, rubbing soothing circles against her sides and trying to keep her still so he didn't give in. It was a test of restraint, Adrian thought to himself. His restraint. That didn't mean she couldn't have fun.

Not even his willpower was enough to stop his hand from wandering back down to her clit. His movements were at a leisure pace, there mostly to rile her up rather than give her exactly what she wanted. He wanted her to beg him to give in, to drive her wild.

And then suddenly, the movie was over. Adrian had been looking at the movie, but he hadn't really been watching. Sure, he'd seen it a thousand times before. Roman's the killer. He's Sidney's half-brother. Yadda yadda ya. Sidney stabs him. Bye-bye, Roman. Hello, a proposal by Dewey. Then, the credits roll.

Just as he hoped, she turned to face him and gave him the widest, most beautifully pleading doe eyes she could muster. He swallowed hard, licking his dry lips as he stared deep into her gaze, completely mesmerised by the sight before him.

"You gonna fuck me?" Y/N whined softly, a sultry look on her face that only caused him to tighten his hold on her.

"Is that what you want?"

"Uh-huh."

"Gotta say it out loud."

"Please. I want it now. I need it now. Don't tease me anymore," she pouted, giving him a playful glare as she bit her lower lip. The way she looked at him made his heart race.

He knew it wouldn't take long for him to give in anyway.

"You need me to fuck you, huh, baby?" She nodded eagerly. "Oh, I'll fuck you real good, so good that you'll totally fall in love with me and never want me to leave. Like ever. I promise."

"That's a bold promise."

"I'm a bold guy."

Tonight, he'd been especially bold.

In one swift move, he hoisted her up and dropped her face down onto the pillow, positioning himself behind her. With his knee, he nudged her legs open a little wider and lined himself up with her entrance, but before he eased himself in, he declared, "This isn't going to be a one time thing. If we do this, if you give me this pussy, it's mine. It belongs to me.If we cross this line, you're mine, you realise that?"

A beat. He paused, waiting for her response.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Good answer."

His cock slid inside her, stretching and finding itself home inside of her. She welcomed him fully and let out a gasp. At first it was slow and deliberate. They were both adjusting to each other, getting used to the feeling of finally fucking each other after who knows how long of teasing.

Eventually, as time went on, Adrian's movements became faster, his strokes became heavier and more urgent, his rambling growing sloppier. "Atta girl, holy fuck. We could've been doing this the whole fucking time! Just think of all those nights I spent fantasising about this." He moaned out loud as the sensations began to build up in his gut. "Just think of all those nights I spent imagining you underneath me, panting and begging me to fuck you."

A low rumble escaped his throat as he started moving faster. "God, it feels good. You feel so good." His breathing was heavy, uneven, and laboured. "So tight... so warm... I can't get enough of you."

"Fuck, don't stop moving, please."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he muttered, leaning down and sucking a mark on her neck roughly. He moved up to her ear and whispered, "Do you like feeling my control over you? Tell me. Tell me you like it. Tell me you want my cum. Tell me you need me."

Y/N whimpered, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Oh my god, yes! I like it. Love it. Want you. Want to come," she breathed out in between grunts and moans.

Adrian pinned her wrists behind back while kissing every inch of exposed flesh along her jawline, tracing the bone tongue and sucking harshly on her skin. She arched into him, her moans becoming louder, needy, and more intense. She was close. So fucking close. And he knew it was only a matter of moments before he would follow. He felt it in his gut. In his loins. In his bones.

"Fuck Adrian! Oh shit."

There it was.

"Oh god… holy fuck… you’re getting tighter… So close, baby. I'm so - Fuck! Can I cum inside you, please? … Fuck, please?" Adrian begged frantically, his voice higher than he'd ever heard before.

"Yes. Yes! Please, babe, please!"

Another couple of thrusts was all it took for him to fall apart, releasing into her with a strangled cry and gripping tightly onto her hips as he came undone. He buried his face in the back of her shoulder and went limp, falling into a sea of giggles and kisses as he held her close in his arms.

"Do you think Harcourt and Peacemaker fuck like rabbits when they're alone?" she asked, craning her neck as far as she could to meet his eyes.

"Definitely! They definitely do!"

He took a glimpse at the mess they made, committed that image to his wank bank, then removed himself from her, muttering, "Gonna get something to clean you up with. You want a drink, too? I'm parched. Yeah, I'll get us a towel and two drinks. Coming right up," as he hopped to his feet and got on with the tasks he set himself. He even added to the list to grab some clothes so she wouldn't get cold.

"For you, my lady," he grinned as he walked back in with the clothes and towels and two cans of Doctor Pepper, setting it all on the table. "Want me to...?"

"I can do it, if you don't! -"

"No, no, I can." He kissed the tip of her nose and got to work cleaning her off.

As he cleaned her up, he noticed the developing bruises on her hips and pressed his lips to them, mumbling against her skin, "Sorry...sorry, I got carried away," and stroking the small marks lightly with his finger.

It was sweet to watch.

"Didn't know you were so cute, Ade," she teased, reaching for a can and taking a sip.

"I'll show you cute." He jumped on top of her, omitting a loud battle cry as he fell, and was quick to press a trail of kisses all over her neck, leaving wet smears of saliva as he went. "I've got a proposition for you."

"Another one?"

Pulling back, he gave her an amused look and found her hand he could easily take hold of, giving it a firm squeeze as he said, "Let me take you out tomorrow? We'll watch four and five right now. I'll get you a huge popcorn and a drink and nachos and whatever you want when we see the new one. How does that sound?"

"A date, huh?"

"What? Do you not - do you not want to... to -"

She interrupted by roughly grabbing the back of his neck and yanking him into a smooch, sealing their lips together forcefully, her tongue plunging in deeply and swirling around his own hungrily. "Yes," she murmured in between the kiss, "I'll go on a date with you."

Now, it wasn't the coolest thing he'd ever done, but Adrian actually did a little dance of joy. He'd never done his famous butt dance horizontally before, and he'd certainly never done it whilst on top of someone, but it made him happy.

"Go put the next movie on, dork."

"On it!"

Obviously, he ran towards the TV to pop the next DVD and almost fell due to the speed at which he banged his knee on the side of the coffee table. That didn't matter.

The only thought that passed through his head was 'Thank fuck for Ghostface.'

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker #Youtube

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thedancingcostumeyoungadult · 2 years

Text

Walk Me Home - Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none really, this is just pure fluff w a lil smooching

Also posted on AO3 at GoodPrinceofCats

Special thanks to @smurphyse for inspiring me to start writing again, and also for helping me pick between this and another wip to finish

---------------------------------------------------

Bitter January cold stings your face as you step out of the bar. Thick fog hangs in the air, giving the night a muffled feeling. You shiver and pull your coat tighter around yourself as you regard the figure in front of you. A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth at the tall slender silhouette, framed by the fog and backlit by the neon in the windows beyond. A few short strides bring you alongside him and he jumps slightly when he notices you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." You laugh lightly as he presses his hands deeper into his coat pockets and shoots you a small smile.

"It's okay." You tilt your head to the side as you study your friend in the neon light. You'd met Spencer Reid almost two years ago when you were on a temporary assignment to the BAU, filling in for an agent that had been injured. The assignment was short, mostly due to Derek Morgan's refusal to take any more days off than required, but you and Spencer had become good friends in the few weeks that you were there. He clears his throat, pulling you out of your thoughts. You throw a glance over your shoulder at the bar entrance.

“Are you, uh, waiting on someone?” Spencer asks, absently scuffing his shoe against the curb.

“Well I was going to wait for my friend Brooke, but I think she’s found a different kind of friend for the evening.” He raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

“I see.” You couldn’t help but admire him in the dim colored light. The purple glow painted sharp shadows across his face and played through his hair. A splash of orange illuminated the open collar of his shirt and you felt butterflies rise in your chest. You forced yourself to look away as your phone buzzed, the display in your hand lighting up with a text from Brooke.

“Getting a taxi. Sure you’ll be alright?”

You type a quick response and send it off, reassuring her that you would be fine, and look back up.

“Were you waiting for anyone?” He shakes his head.

“No, the rest of my team is still inside but I was thinking of catching the metro home.” What’s that line about opportunity knocking only once?

"It's getting late." You say. "Walk me home? It’s not too far.” The smile he offers you sends the butterflies in your chest into a riot.

“Of course, lead the way.” You return his smile and turn in the direction of home. Spencer falls into step beside you, slowing his pace somewhat to accommodate your shorter legs and heels. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you speak again.

“So, Dr Reid, have you read anything interesting lately?”

“Yes, I have actually. I found a very interesting article the other day about the book ‘Their Eyes Were Watching God’ by Zora Neale Hurston. I read it on the plane ride back from a case yesterday. Have you read it?” The mention of the book made you chuckle slightly, you hadn’t even thought of your high school assigned reading in like a decade.

“Yeah, in the twelfth grade back in California. It was my favorite book we read that year.” You feel his smile more than you can see it. The two of you walk side by side as you happily listen to Spencer’s analysis, chiming in every once in a while with your own insight and opinions based on what you could remember of the book. You were happy to listen to him ramble, though, you love the way his voice rises when he touches on a point he was particularly excited about. Even while walking, he talks with his hands, emphasizing his thoughts with little gestures. You know you’re watching his hands a little too closely, you do it often, but you don’t care enough to look away. Your crush on him was a secret ill kept at Quantico, Garcia had clocked it almost immediately when she saw the two of you talking in the bullpen once. She’d ambushed you by the elevator, a knowing, mischievous smile on her face. Derek knew, then, by default, and the other profilers had to have seen it. The only profiler you wanted to notice, though, remained agonizingly oblivious.

Suddenly, your foot caught on the pavement and you stumbled forward, nearly going sprawling, but a strong arm shot out to steady you. Spencer helped you right yourself, but kept your arm linked with his. Probably a good thing, because you felt like you were about to pass out from embarrassment and maybe a little bit because of the fact that he was touching you.

“You alright?” His voice is soft and the concern you hear in it sends sparklers along your spine. The arm you have linked in his feels like it's covered in static, buzzing every time you brush against him.

“Yeah, the pavement attacked me.” You joke, looking up at him. What you see freezes you in place. Spencer stands over you, wispy curls falling around his eyes, looking down at you with a surprisingly soft smile. Your cheeks burn and you hope that it’s dark enough that he doesn’t see you blush.

“It’s not far now, only a block or so.” Spencer nods and gently leads you forward, keeping your arm tucked securely in his. You walk the rest of the way in silence and you swear that Spencer could probably hear your heart beating in your chest like it was trying to escape. At the steps of your building, you stop and Spencer lets your arm fall.

“Nice place.” He says, peering up at the building, probably analyzing the architecture. A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine him filing away information in that brain of his.

“Thanks, if you ask nicely enough I might just invite you up.” You had barely finished your sentence when a gentle hand cupped your cheek and drew you forward. Before you can process, Spencer is kissing you. You feel as though you're going to float away, the cold of the night immediately dissipating from your skin. The kiss is light, he holds you softly so as to give you room to pull away. His lips are soft and warm, his slight stubble tickling your face and causing you to smile into the kiss. Your hands rest instinctively on his sides and you kiss him back, pouring into it two years of unsaid words. Spencer pulls back slightly and rests his forehead against yours.

"Does that count as asking nicely?"

A/N: If you haven't read Their Eyes Were Watching God, I highly recommend it. I read it in high school and reread it recently and Zora Neale Hurston was a master

*please like and reblog if you enjoyed!*

#criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds drabble

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robinbuckleyluvr · 2 years

Note

hii! i loved your robin’s headcanons and i was thinking, maybe you could write how would an ideal date look like for robin? (it can be a one shot or a headcanons however you prefer)

love you!!

thank you so much for requesting! sorry for getting back to you so late, i was freaking out over the fact that this is my first request LOL but i’m glad you liked my other headcanons! i hope u like this as well <3

⊹˚˖⁺ Robin's Ideal Date!

masterlist | requests

Summary: just some cute headcanons on what i think robin's ideal date would be like!

Warnings: none

Notes: thank you again for requesting! i might write an actual one shot for this later on, or even another version of this, so stay tuned! and lmk what u think!

this by @yorluver is what i talk about towards the end, i absolutely loved it and it kinda inspired that last bit so!!

i will begin by saying i think robin would like to do something in private

idk i just feel she would rather be able to actually do stuff with you without being afraid someone will judge you and all

drum roll please…

her ideal date would be something like a movie night at her house!

to start this off

i feel like after getting over the initial awkward stage in the relationship

she would be really touchy

she would love to at least hold your hand when shes with you

which is maybe the most she can do in public as it’s the 80’s yk

so watching a movie together would be her ideal date.

now i know everyone on tumblr writes about this

but i just really love this headcanon<3

it’s just so robin!

she would spend HOURS trying to pick out the perfect movie to watch

and would not shut up about it

(the movie and the date)

steve would get annoyed of her unceasing rambling

and would be like

"just pick out a movie, robin! im sure she'll be fine with whatever-"

"you don't get it, steve!"

but on the inside he’s glad she’s happy

moving on

she would go OVERBOARD in preparing for the date

she would buy lots of food and stuff she knows you like

and maybe even rent out your fav movie in case it goes badly..

now what would happen during the date?

she would either

A- be super nervous about it

B- A.

so true right

anyway

throughout the movie she will keep looking at you to see if you’re having a good time

and ask you stuff like

“are you comfortable?”

“do you need another pillow? or a blanket?”

“are you cold?”

“do you want something to drink? or more food?”

“is this movie good? i could change it if you’d like, my parents might have-“

she will not rest until she knows you are 100% comfy and i stand by that.

but overall she would love watching something with you

and i feel like during the movie she will also like shyly grab your hand

or put her head on your shoulder

or she’d just silently look at you

but if you catch her she wouldn’t admit it!

“robin are you okay? are you.. looking at me?”

“what? no? i’m just.. looking out the window!”

“robin… there are no windows behind me?”

“oh my god did you see what just happened in the movie? right, you didn’t, because you were talking about windows!”

gotta work on those lying skills robin…

overall she’d just do a bunch of cute stuff like that!

she’s the type of gf who will always ask before doing anything

even if you’ve been dating for a while

i read this the other day and it was so cute i died, which is why i added that!

now what happens after the movie is over?

she will spend like a whole bunch of time ranting about what she liked and what she didn’t.

and she’ll make sure you can voice in your opinions too!

but in the end

(as i’ve said before)

it doesn’t matter if the movie was absolute crap

or if it was the best movie of all time

she will just be super glad to have been able to spend time with you

and show you how much she loves you!!

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rammwhy · 2 years

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New York Kiss | cc!Jschlatt drabble

summary: You and Schlatt go out for a drive and some pizza, and it leads to something more.

pairing: cc!Schlatt x gn!reader

tags/warnings: technically consensual but non-verbal? not sure if that warrants a warning but just in case :) | fluff

notes: first fic I've written in a very long time and first fic ever posted on tumblr! I've just been reading a lot of schlatt drabbles lately and wanted to write one myself! The ending feels a bit rushed imo, but I'm still pretty proud of this.

Inspired by the song New York Kiss by Spoon. Also, the bonus at the end is purely just crack entertainment, take it as you will lol

words: 721

New York kiss.

Kinda cliche, huh? I never imagined this would happen; that I would be here, underneath the neon signs, kissing you in the night.

You, my best friend and roommate of 3 years. The guy I never thought I would get along with, because I thought you were so brash and loud and rude--and you were. Honestly I only ever put up with you because Ted liked you, and you happened to have a spare room.

But then I learned about you.

You, who sends an incessant amount of gibbon monkey videos at 3 in the morning, just because you like them and you think I'll like them too. You, who always gets so excited when someone matches you in Mario kart, no matter how much you pride yourself in being the "drift king." You, who drove all the way out in the dead of the night to come pick me up when I was scared and alone, who listens to me ramble about the most trivial things, who gives the warmest hugs when all I can feel is the cold, who lets me know that I'm enough.

You, you, you.

All I can feel is you.

You're gentle when you kiss me, lips soft and slow with your hand lightly caressing my face. It's like you're scared to hurt me--like you're cradling a delicate flower in your hands. Needless to say, a stark contrast from how you present yourself.

This wasn't supposed to happen. We were visiting your home city, that was it; a fun vacation with the rest of the group. Ted and Charlie were back at the airbnb, saying they were too tired to go out and do anything else. But I was bored and hungry, and we still hadn't gone to that pizza place you love so much. So, you being you, took me out for a late night drive.

Spoon and alt-j played in the background as we talked and talked until all I could think about was how happy you make me. Even when there was a lull in the conversation, we were comfortable and content, just sitting in each other's presence as we passed mundane streetlights. Talks like these were what I loved most.

And then we were here--stomachs full of classic New York pizza as we walked beneath the neon signs. After much arguing and bickering (and a few annoyed looks from the restaurant owner), we split the bill and scurried out of the place, giggling like a couple of high schoolers. What we found so funny I'll never really know, but we were drunk with joy, and that was enough.

We did what we came here for, but neither of us wanted to leave just yet. So, we walked. And as we walked, I noticed you had a soft look in your eyes; one that would grow and twinkle whenever you laughed. I was... enamoured, to say the least. And, maybe it showed, because you stopped walking and took my hand, and I looked up into your eyes.

I don't know what it was--a spark, a snap--but without even saying a word, we both just knew.

And then you kissed me. And I kissed you.

Bonus:

When you and Schlatt had come back to the airbnb, completely lovesick and hand in hand, the first thing Charlie and Ted did was... well, yell.

"Wow, took you long en-oH MY GOD!" Charlie exclaimed, pointing at your joined hands in shock? Fear? Excitement?

The two of you quickly pulled away, wincing at the sheer volume your friend had just produced. The both of you, having been so caught up in the initial romance of it all, hadn't quite decided how to tell the boys--if at all.

Charlie seemed to have decided for you, though.

"What is with the yelling?" Ted asked, making his way to the entrance and seeing Charlie pointing between you and Schlatt. "What are you pointing at?" All that came out of Charlie's mouth were incoherent exclamations, accompanied by more jabbing of his finger towards you two.

"THEM?? HANDS??? WHAAAA????" He managed to say, though barely understandable. Ted, however, was a fairly observant man. Processing Charlie's words, aggressive finger jutting, and the singular hands behind each of your backs, he let out a gasp.

"YOU GUYS ARE DATING?"

©rammwhy 2022 please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work anywhere without my permission | reblogs are ok!

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scuttling · 3 years

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Head Over Feet - Chapter 1

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Spencer Reid/Female Reader (Unrequited) Word Count: 5,233 Chapters: 4/4 Complete Tags: (Will be 18+, NSFW in future chapters) Unrequited Love, TW Suicide by cop Summary: Falling in love with one of your two closest friends was never something you planned; it only makes sense that falling in love with the other would also come as a complete surprise. *Inspired by/in collaboration with @ssamorganhotchner. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Link to AO3 or read chapter 1 below! It’s 3 AM—well, you are in a part of suburban Indiana where it’s 3 AM, but that makes it a Virginia 4 AM—and rain patters against the window behind your head as you slump over in your usual spot on the jet’s couch. You are exhausted, the whole team is exhausted, and you’ve just closed your eyes when a warm body presses against yours, thigh to shoulder, and there is a soft sigh in your ear.

“I shouldn’t make coffee. I shouldn’t make coffee, right?” Spencer murmurs, and you turn to look at him, can’t help the fondness that shapes your smile. His hair is untidy from running his hands through it, his eyes tired and rimmed red, and his headphones are dangling around his neck, just like always. He’s so close to you your noses are almost touching.

You return his sigh. So many things in life are unpredictable, but your partner, your closest friend, is always a constant.

“You absolutely should not make coffee,” you say, your voice quiet in the dim cabin. “We’ll be home in almost an hour, and then you’re going to go to bed.”

“At this point, wouldn’t it be better to just stay awake?” he asks with a groan, resting his head against the seat behind him, and you roll your eyes.

“I know the statistics, and if I do, then so do you. Being awake for 24 hours is equivalent to having a 0.10 percent BAC. There’s no way you’ll make it through the day without hurting yourself.” You hear a soft laugh from your right, and it’s Aaron; you hadn’t even realized he was paying attention. You raise your voice a little. “Plus, Hotch said we don’t have to come in until ten.”

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised.

“Did I say that?” His lips curve up in a soft smile, and his expression is warm despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Don’t you remember? I said, ‘Hotch, you should let us come in at ten so we can get some extra sleep. I think it would really benefit the team.’ Then you said, ‘You know what, you’re right. Wow, you really are the smartest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.’” You smile brightly, fully aware you’re being silly; it surprises you when his smile falters a bit, nearly imperceptibly.

“Hmm. Now that you mention it, I do remember something like that. I’m a great boss for agreeing to it.”

“The absolute best,” you reply easily, and the two of you look at each other for just a moment before he turns back to his work and you turn back to Spencer. “So, like I said. Hotch said we don’t have to come in until ten. You need to sleep.”

“It will be after 5:00 by the time we get to the office, more like 5:30. Ten minute wait for the forty-five minute train home means I’ll get there at 6:25—” You are not normally one to cut Spencer off when he gets talking, but this is sleep-deprived rambling, not an informational address, so you place a hand gently on his arm and he falls silent.

“So come stay at my place. I’m closer and you won’t have to wait for the train. We can get a few hours in and then stop at the coffee shop before we head to the office, okay?” The way he looks at you, soft, appreciative, makes it feel like you’re the only two people on the jet for a moment, and he wets his lips, nods.

“Okay. Thank you.” You smile.

“Of course. Maybe rest your eyes; if you fall asleep, I’ll wake you when we get there.” He turns on his music, leans against your shoulder, and takes your suggestion; it’s only a few minutes later that his breathing evens out, softens, and you try and fail to ignore the way that makes your heart ache in your chest.

When the plane lands and you’re grabbing your things, you come up behind Aaron, curl a hand around his arm just above his elbow. He turns to look at you, and he’s more worse for wear than you thought, so pale and tired up close.

“You’re going to go home and get some sleep, right?” All that changes is the set of his eyes, but that’s enough for you to know he has no intention of going home; you sigh. “Am I going to have to force you to come stay at my place too?”

It would be the first time he’s stayed over, where Spencer has crashed with you a handful of times; you are close with the both of them, but Aaron you spend more time with at lunch, or late nights eating dinner in his office, where Spencer comes over for movies or board games regularly. The dynamics of your friendships with them are so different, but both so good, so unexpected. You wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“That’s not necessary,” he says, doesn’t look like it’s a thought he wants to entertain. Maybe he thinks it’s crossing a line? Spencer will be there, so you don’t understand why he’d feel that way, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“I just want you to rest. It’s really no trouble, I have a guest room.” Spencer always opts for your long, overstuffed sectional sofa, so there’s more than enough room for Aaron to stay and get a few hours of sleep. He just shakes his head shortly.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I appreciate your concern,” he says, and that’s clearly the end of the conversation. You just sigh, slide your hand off the back of his arm.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.” You walk away from him, over to where Spencer is waiting for you, and the two of you get into your car and head to your place.

By the time you get there, Spencer is basically a big, sleepy baby, and you have to carry both of your bags into your apartment and keep your arm around him so he doesn’t slump over. You lean him up against the wall while you unlock your door, then push him gently onto the couch while you grab pillows, blankets, and sheets.

He has clothes in his go bag to change into, but you don’t bother trying to wake him enough for that, just make up a bed for him and take off his shoes, maneuvering him into a somewhat comfortable position.

“Hmm. Thank you,” he mumbles when you cover him with a warm blanket, and he turns his head to kiss you softly on your cheek, then burrows his face into the pillow and falls asleep.

You walk into your bedroom, kick off your shoes, set an alarm, and flop down face first onto your bed. Later that morning, you and Spencer bring coffee and breakfast pastries for everyone; you take Aaron’s coffee and a cherry danish and walk up to his office, knock on the doorframe with your elbow.

You are happy to see he looks a little better than when you left him, and he even softly smiles when he sees you standing there.

“Good morning again. Brought you a little pick-me-up.” You step into the room, set down the coffee and the napkin with the danish on it in the middle of his desk, then lean against it with one hand on the desk and the other hand on your hip. “You look decent.” He chuckles lightly.

“Somehow that doesn’t feel like a compliment.”

“It’s not, it’s an, ‘I wish you would have gotten some rest instead of being stubborn, but I guess it turned out okay.’” He looks into your eyes for a moment, and you hold his gaze. “When someone wants to take care of you, Aaron, you should let them.”

He looks away first, down at the lid of his coffee cup, clears his throat.

“That’s not always possible, but I really do appreciate your concern.” He sounds crestfallen in a way you don’t quite understand, and you hate that he feels that he can’t accept help. You’d hoped he was over that kind of backward thinking.

“You can talk to me about anything. I thought we were close enough for you to know that.”

“We are,” he agrees, looking over at you. There is that same dejected set to his eyes, and it makes you hurt for him. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him like this, years, back when his divorce was still a fresh wound. “Sometimes that’s not always possible either, even if I might want to.”

“I won’t judge you, you know. I care about you.” You reach out to put your hand on his, a gentle, comforting touch. “There’s nothing you could say to me that would change that.”

You are interrupted by a knock at the door—it’s Spencer, with a mouth full of cinnamon roll. Aaron pulls his hand away abruptly like the two of you are doing something wrong, and you furrow your brow. Spencer doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, JJ said there might be a case. We’re meeting.”

“Another case?” You take a few steps away from the desk, cross your arms, give Aaron some space. “We just got back five hours ago.”

“Sounds like we should have gone straight there instead. Spree killer, five dead.” He ducks back out of the room, takes off down the hall, and you turn back to Aaron. He’s standing, smooths a hand down the front of his shirt, and you sigh.

“What are the odds I can convince you to take a power nap on the jet? 50:1?” He cracks a smile despite his earlier demeanor, takes the coffee you brought and passes you on his way to the door.

“I’d guess more like 75.” You roll your eyes, grab his danish, take a big bite, and then catch up to him and hand him the rest to finish.

The case takes you to Connecticut, where you are paired with Derek to take witness statements at the precinct. The local police know the identity of the killer, a forty year old man named John Jackson, and your team has predicted that he won’t stop until you find him, and that he will likely attempt to go down via suicide by cop when you do, so everyone is on edge.

After almost three hours of taking statements, you and Derek break for water and coffee, stand at the watercooler shaking your heads.

“This guy is unpredictable. There could be another five, ten bodies before we finally catch up to him,” Derek says, taking a long chug of water, and you cross your arms, lean back against the counter of the kitchenette.

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. We’ve got roadblocks, right?” He nods.

“Every road in and out of town, with cops at all highway exits.” You vaguely remember the chief saying that, now that he mentions it; the hours are all starting to blend together, between the case and the lack of sleep, and your team is relying heavily on each other to fill in the gaps.

“Right. And helicopters.” You rub a hand slowly over your hair. “I hate these cases; it’s like the profile isn’t any good until you get to him, and by then it’s too late.” You check your watch, and it’s nearing rush hour, a good time to touch base with the team; you shoot Derek a glance, pull out your phone and gesture toward the hall, step out and dial Aaron.

When he answers, he sounds tense, so you don’t bother with pleasantries.

“Hey, just checking in. Derek and I are about done here; where do you need us?”

“There’s a checkpoint on I-95, mile marker 48; we have a few officers manning it, but we could use a car here, so if you two head there you can send one of them our way.”

“Got it: I-95, mile marker 48,” you repeat as Derek joins you in the hall. “Send a car your way.”

“Yes. Be careful,” he says almost like it’s an afterthought, and you shake your head lightly—as if you are careless any other time.

“We will, you too. Bye.” You end the call, lock your phone, raise an eyebrow in Derek’s direction. “Want me to drive?”

“Oh, and put my life in the hands of Speed Racer?” He takes the keys out of his pocket, holds them out like he’s handing them to you, then pulls them away.

“I've taken several defensive driving courses; I’m probably a better driver than you.” He holds them out again and you snatch them out of his hand. “And sometimes you have to be fast.”

That statement proves true when you are on your way to mile marker 48 and Derek spots the car the unsub was last seen driving. He confirms the plate number, confirms it again, just because your brains are kind of mush, and then you share a look and slam your foot on the gas.

Thank god for all those defensive driving courses.

“Hotch,” Morgan barks into his phone a few seconds later, “we’ve got eyes on the suspect. He’s headed northbound on I-95—we just passed marker 44. We’re in pursuit.” The unsub weaves in and out of traffic, a chorus of colorful language and horns blaring in his wake, and you do your best to keep up while maintaining a safe distance from other cars.

The chase goes on for several miles, and there seems to be no end in sight until you can eventually make out the red glow of the car’s brake lights from across the highway. It’s both a good and bad sign, one you were prepared for.

“He’s gonna bail, Derek.” You cut across several lanes of traffic to make your way to the side of the road, so you can pull off as close to him as possible. “We have to try to talk him down. Think he’ll listen to me?” The whole rampage was triggered by the anniversary of the man’s wife’s death, and you look similar enough that it’s a good possibility. Derek agrees.

“Worth a shot. Just keep your damn gun drawn,” he says, and you huff. You’re pretty sure every member of the team has used the ‘weapons down’ tactic on multiple occasions, but somehow only you and Spencer are always reminded of it.

“I will, but if he wants me to kill him, I’m not going to make it easy.” The unsub goes several hundred feet farther before pulling over, and you follow behind, turn on your four-ways, jump out of the car. Derek covers you, and you approach the vehicle slowly, gun drawn. “John Jackson. Leave your weapon on the seat and exit the vehicle with your hands up.”

The door opens, and you see one empty hand, but he still clutches a pistol in the other. Derek looks over at you, but you don’t dare take your eyes off of John.

“John. Put the gun down. I know you feel hopeless right now, like there’s no way out of this situation, but I promise you there is a way. I’m here to help you.” For the first time, he looks over at you, and you can see the pain in his gaze; it’s clear the man is broken, eyes sunken deeply in despair. He raises the gun—doesn’t point it at you, just raises it into the air.

“You can’t help me. No one can. She’s gone, and I’m left here—in pieces.” The last word is a sob, and you swallow hard, take a step closer.

“I know how much Kathleen meant to you, John, and I’m sorry for your loss. So sorry. But you know this isn’t how she would have wanted things to turn out for you; you know that, right? She loved you.”

“It wasn’t enough, in the end.” He wipes his forearm across his eyes, and Derek tenses, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but that’s the only move John makes. “She took everything with her and left me empty.”

“It doesn’t have to feel like that forever. I promise you.” You take another step forward, hand outstretched. “If you just set the gun on the ground, I’ll come over and put you in some handcuffs. We’ll have to go to the police station first, but then we’re going to get you help. You’ll feel better.”

John says nothing for several seconds; you are so aware of yourself, your surroundings, that you feel each breath you take as if your body is moving in slow motion. You can see Derek tense again, just slightly; you can hear the sound of another car pulling up behind yours, of doors opening and closing, of shoes on pavement and guns drawn.

“John.” He sighs, presses his lips together, shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to feel better. I want to feel nothing.” He points his gun at you, and you don’t have another choice. If it’s not you, it will be someone else on your team.

He made his choice; you make your non-choice and pull the trigger.

You run to his side when he falls, and so does Derek: no pulse. You’re a good shot. It doesn’t feel like something to be proud of right now. You stand, and so does Derek; he reaches out a hand, places it on your shoulder.

“You tried, you know?” His voice is low, a little rough, and you nod your head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Thanks.” You don’t say you won’t, can’t guarantee that. The two of you turn around, face the others, and you inhale deeply, exhale deeply, shake your head. Aaron and Spencer both come forward, and you’re a little torn, not sure whose eyes to seek for reassurance, whose words to seek for comfort.

Spencer makes the decision for you, jogs toward you and puts his hands on your shoulders, wraps his arms around you in a hug. You hold him close, rest your head against his arm, and look behind him, at Aaron, who seems more affected than you would have thought. You want to pull him in too, but he is not the public display of affection type, so you let Spencer be enough.

After a few minutes, local law enforcement arrives on the scene, as well as the coroner, and Spencer ushers you into an SUV so you can head back to the precinct.

That night, you are not just tired, but weary, when you make it home. You strip off your clothes and take a quick shower in hopes it will make you feel a little better, then pull on a short, fleece robe and pad to the kitchen to make a cup of herbal tea. You’re just throwing out the tea bag when there’s a knock at the door, and you take your mug with you to answer it.

You aren’t surprised that it’s Aaron on the other side.

“Hi.” Your voice sounds weak to your own ears, but he just nods, takes in your robe and mug of tea, offers his own greeting. “Do you want to come in?” You take a step back and he walks past you into the living room, sits down beside you when you curl up on the sofa. You face him, your shoulder against the back of the couch, your hands in your lap, holding your tea, and he mirrors your posture.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I know what happened today was difficult for you.” The expression on his face is careful, guarded, but concerned. “How are you doing?”

You reach forward to set your tea on a coaster on the table, scooting a little closer.

“I’m doing alright.” He looks skeptical, stares you down with serious eyes, and you sigh, give in to his silence. You’re not one to easily fold under pressure, but when Aaron is the one applying it, it’s difficult not to. “It’s never easy to kill someone, but… it’s just a little harder when it's someone who clearly needed help, something we could have given him. It’s harder when we’re just too late.”

“I can understand that. Things could have gone so differently if he’d gotten help when he needed it. Maybe no one would have gotten hurt.” He reaches out a hand to carefully cover yours in your lap, looks at you with tender eyes. “Try not to focus on the maybe, okay? Life is hard enough without beating yourself up for something out of your control.”

You nod your head, blink back tears, and lean forward, resting your cheek against his shoulder; he puts his arm around your back and holds you tightly, allows you your moment, and when you begin to pull away he reaches for your tea, takes a sip.

“Minty,” he says, then hands you the mug, and you smile softly, take a sip too.

“It’s Sleepytime tea. Helps me wind down before bed.” It’s not until you say it that it dawns on you—how late it is, that he’s here anyway after almost two days with no sleep. “Let me make you a cup and then put you up in the guest room. Please,” you murmur when he looks like he’s going to decline. “It would make me feel a lot better about today. Just knowing you’re nearby.”

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?” he asks, arching a brow, and you shake your head quickly, reach for his hand again.

“No, no. Of course not. I just know you’re tired, and it would be nice to have a friend close tonight.” You squeeze his fingers, your hand warm from the tea, take a deep breath. “Stay?”

“I’ll go get my bag out of the car,” he says eventually, and you can’t help smiling.

“Okay. I’ll make you some tea.” The next couple of months are fairly commonplace, with cases dotted here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing like those few sleepless days.

You have dinner with Aaron in his office a couple times a week, and it’s always comforting and enjoyable, that easy companionship. You spend time with Spencer at one of your apartments a couple evenings a week, and that’s where things get complicated.

He’s one of your closest friends in the world, one of two people you would do anything for, drop everything for at a moment's notice. As it turns out, he may also be more than that.

You’ve noticed for a while that you tend to gravitate toward him, that you’re drawn to him when he’s speaking, like an invisible magnetic pull. That you can’t help staring at his lips when he talks, his hands when he adds gestures, the serious look of contemplation on his face when he debates his next move as you play chess.

It feels innocent, mostly, until one day he leans over your shoulder to speak into your ear while you’re getting snacks in the kitchen, and you feel your face heat, your heart pound in your chest. He lays a hand on your back, which is not unusual, but he may as well be putting it down your pants for the way it makes you feel in that moment.

You open your mouth to say something, but ultimately you stop yourself. What would you even say? I think I might be in love with you? I think I want you? I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship? Anything of those things would be the wrong thing, so you just push it to the back of your mind and do your best to let it go.

“Are you feeling okay?” Spencer asks one day while you’re pouring coffee in the breakroom, and rightfully so, because you’ve been avoiding him like he’s contagious for the better part of a week. He looks especially cute today, and he’s in a great mood, smiling and laughing at everything Derek and Emily say, and it’s too much for you to handle. You’re just proud of yourself for not saying something embarrassing.

“I’m okay,” you assure him with a light smile you don’t feel. “I’m just a little off today; I’m sure it will pass. Thanks, though.” You fill his mug, and he smiles back, nods.

“Of course. We can skip movie night tonight, if you’re not feeling up to it. I think we’ve both probably seen An American Werewolf in London enough times that we could recite it line for line anyway.” You have to laugh at that, because it’s true; it’s one of your favorites, always so easy to poke fun at that the two of you dissolve into giggles half an hour in.

“You’re definitely right about that. Yeah, let’s cancel for tonight. I’ll go to bed early, get some rest, be good as new tomorrow. Thanks for understanding,” you murmur, turning to look up at him, and he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“You’re welcome. I just hope you feel better soon.”

You hope you figure out what to do soon, too.

You’re getting ready to leave work later that night, shortly after everyone else has gone, when Aaron steps up beside you, clears his throat.

“Do you have plans for tonight? I was just about to order dinner.” You sigh, run a hand over your hair.

“Um. I was supposed to watch movies with Spencer, but I cancelled on him.” His gaze sweeps over you like he’s looking for signs of distress, eyes gentle but appraising.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes and no.” You immediately regret saying that, because it puts him on alert and you aren’t really in the mood to discuss it. “Yes—everything’s alright. I’d love dinner, if you don’t mind the company. And it’s my turn to pay.” You take out your wallet, shove the rest of your bag back under your desk, turn to look up at him. He’s still staring at you like he’s trying to assess your emotional state, and you exhale softly. “Can we just… eat and talk about Jack?”

It takes him a moment, but he nods, pulls out his phone. It’s nonchalant, just quiet acceptance of your terms; his eyes are kind when he looks back over at you.

“I have pictures of him from his last soccer game.” You feel almost overwhelmed with relief, lean against his arm to look at the photos of Jack and his friends in their uniforms, laughing and happy on the field. “Do you want tacos?” he asks, low, after a moment, and you nod your head and smile softly up at him.

“Yeah, but it’s Friday. Why don’t we just go eat? Work can wait until Monday.” It’s a suggestion you’ve made many times before, but this time, to your surprise, he agrees; you grab your bag, and he drives you to the restaurant where you have a margarita, and too many tacos, and so many laughs it’s like he’s almost a different person. He drops you off at your car afterward, and you lean across the seat for a hug, thank him again for taking you out—because, of course, he insisted on paying the bill even though it was your turn. It’s a better evening than you’ve had in the last few weeks.

You mess that up severely by going home and watching An American Werewolf in London anyway, and afterward you lay in bed, try to fall asleep, and think about what you’re going to do about Spencer. It’s almost midnight when you have the dumb idea to go see him—and it’s pouring, which makes it even dumber.

You text him to see if he’s still awake, and he doesn’t answer, but when you park you can see that his bedroom light is on, so you buzz anyway. He lets you up, clearly confused as to what you’re doing there so late; so are you, to be honest, but for some reason it finally felt like the right time to lay it all out on the line. When he opens the door, he looks even more taken aback than he sounded.

“Are you okay? It’s after midnight, and you’re soaked,” he says, pulling you inside and closing the door, and you shake your head.

“No, not really. I’m sorry for springing this on you, Spence, I really am.” You take a deep breath, try to calm yourself; your heart is racing. “I think I love you. You were the first person I clicked with when I started at the BAU, and it has become a genuine friendship that I treasure, but lately I’ve been feeling… more.” He wets his lips, frowns.

“I don’t think now is the right—” A slightly unhinged laugh escapes you, and it stops him mid-sentence.

“I know it’s not the right time, but I don’t think there will ever be a right time, so I’m just… just putting it out there, okay? I think I love you. I can see myself with you, I—I think we could be good together. And I know this is sudden…” you trail off when you see movement behind him; you lean to the side to peer around him, but he blocks you with his body. “Is someone here?”

“I tried to tell you it’s not a good time,” he says, and he sounds apologetic and maybe a little embarrassed on your behalf. You swallow hard.

“Who’s—who’s here? Is it someone I know?” He shakes his head, and you exhale a ragged breath. That’s a small miracle, at least, that you didn’t just spew a love confession in front of one of your friends—well, two of your friends. “I should go. I need to go—I’m sorry.” You back up, but you bump into the door noisily; you forgot he’d closed it behind you. Someone comes into the hall to check on the sound, and of course, it’s a beautiful woman wearing one of Spencer’s sweaters and not much else. She is your opposite in every way, and that makes it hurt so much worse.

You really never stood a chance.

“Spencer? Is everything okay?” she asks, arms crossed over her chest, and you fumble for the doorknob, wrench the door open, and take off down the hall.

You run for your car—the rain has only gotten heavier, and if you were soaked before, you’re downright sodden now, your clothes soaked through—and you tug on the door handle, but it doesn’t budge: locked, of course. You pat your pockets for your keys, but by the time you find them, the small surge of adrenaline you felt has left your body, and all you feel is heartbreak.

You rest your arms against the window, your head against your arms, and take several deep, gasping breaths; tears follow, burning hot, streaming down your face, and for a few moments you just let them, let yourself ache with embarrassment and bitterness until it physically hurts to continue.

You exhale softly, wipe your face with your wet sleeve as if that fixes the problem, and then unlock your car and head to the only place—the only person—you can think of with your head so messed up.

Taglist 🤍: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x reader #head over feet

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goldenpogue · 3 years

Text

That night in Barbados

Drew Starkey x reader (Inspired from this post by @justlivingobxlife )

Warning: suggestive, a little angst(?)

Author’s note: I ended up making it more like a one night stand type of thing but I hope you still like it. Sorry for any typos.

———————————————————————————————————

You and a couple of your friends had decided to get away for a while before college started again. You settled with spending a week in Barbados and the first few days were pretty tame. You went on different tours and entertaining cruises, but as the week was coming closer to an end, you decided to spice up the fun.

You were the only friend of the group that didn’t have a boyfriend, so your friends made a deal to get you hooked up before the trip came to a close. You decided to go to a bar near the coast and upon arrival, they were already searching for a match. There was only one guy that really caught your eye, though.

Every now and then, you’d find yourself stealing glances his way. You took in his appearance, noting his tall broad figure and brunette hair. He was exactly your type. Your friends started to notice your constant stares. They gave each other a knowing look before one of them got up and started to walk in his direction.

“What are you doing?” You look at your friend, confused. “Um, I’m helping out a friend.” She replies smugly. “You don’t want to leave here with any regrets do you?”

“But-” You stopped yourself from obliging, knowing she was right. You anxiously observe as she talks to the guy, who turns to look in your direction. You start to blush and look down at your drink. When you look back up, you see them both walking back to your table.

“Y/n, this is Drew. Drew, this is y/n.” Your friend smiles widely before signally the others to come with her, leaving you two alone. You instantly got nervous but told yourself to try to act confident. You smile at him, “You can sit if you want.” You let out a slight giggle as he finally sits down. “So, what brings you to Barbados?”

“We’re filming actually. It’s for a netflix show. What about you?” You nod, kind of shocked at how casual he made starring in a netflix show seem but you didn’t want to make a big deal of it either. “Um, I’m just here on vacation. Today is sadly the last day of our trip.” You were kind of disappointed that you just now met him. He seemed like a nice guy so far. But better late than never, right?

“Yeah your friend told me. She also said you wanted to...” He slowly stops, unsure if he should say it. You nod in curiosity, encouraging him to continue. “She said you wanted to hook up with someone- well technically she said me, which I wouldn’t mind honestly but...” He starts to ramble and trails off again. “You wouldn’t mind?” You repeated, wanting him to confirm in case you heard him wrong. He shakes his head and leans in closer, “I’d be happy to.”

“Well,” you smiled, excitement flowing through your body. Testing the waters, you lean in so that your face is barely inches from his. Smiling at each other, you both close the gap and kiss. After a few seconds, you pull away. “Let’s take this to my hotel room, yeah?” You stand up and take his hand. Walking back to your hotel, you unlock the door and pull him in.

You kiss him and grab his toned shoulders while he laid you on the bed. He took off your dress and looked at you in admiration. “Wow, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered while kissing your neck. He stopped for a moment, “Are you sure about this? I’m not going to fast am I?” You shook your head and kissed him rougher than before. He smiled into the kiss and proceeded onward, making sure to pleasure you in any and all ways he could.

Afterwards, you got dressed and relaxed together for a while. “Was it good?” Drew looked over at you from the edge of the bed. “Yeah. Amazing.” You smiled and got up, walking over to him. “Now I have even better memories to think about while heading home.” Your smile slowly faded remembering that’s exactly what this will be. A memory. A one time experience. It may seem kind of pathetic that your sad over a guy you just met but he was just different. He’s just the type of guy you shouldn’t let go once you have him, but you know you haven’t known him long enough to consider anything more.

“Well, I should get going.” He stood up and walked towards the door. He turns back to you, “I’m glad this happened.”

“You know we may never see each other again, right?” You question cheerlessly, while walking closer to him.

“Yeah, but it was worth it though. Right?” He smiles down at you.

“Yeah.” You give a soft smile.

He leans down to give you one last kiss before closing the door behind him.

———————————————————————

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I had to do a time skip because smut is not my specialty lol. Anywho, until next time, bye!

#drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #obx

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 15k

chapter 1

It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time she graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that he happened to be smarter than anyone on earth, causing him to test out of elementary school before she even got to know him.

Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. Y/N saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.

He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from her house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.

It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.

But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but she never believed them. She liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.

He stopped coming to the swing for a while after they turned 18, her mother had said something about Spencer Reid’s mother being admitted to the nursing home she worked at and y/n drew the conclusion that he’d finally left the small Nevada town she was seemingly trapped in.

Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI, saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.

So sure enough, when she moved to Virginia to join the FBI academy it was the perfect opportunity to finally be on an even playing field with him. An excuse to reach out to him and catch up, get to know him. She was technically older than him, by 10 months, and yet somehow he seemed to feel unreachable, wiser and more of an adult than she ever would be.

At 28 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer Reid?” she said with the biggest smile spreading across her face.

“Hi?” he says, not having any clue who she is.

“You might not remember me, I’m Y/N Y/L/N we were in kindergarten together in Nevada?”

He takes a moment to think, she watches his eyes flutter as he recalls the memory to his mind. She is mesmerized by how his brain works, like a filing cabinet he can just pull memories out. “Oh, yes we sat together the first day and you got in trouble later that afternoon for adding water to the sand because I had said it was too dry to build a model of the Pyramid of Giza.”

Her smile gets even bigger, “yes! I hope this isn’t weird but I’ve kept up with you over the years, I’ve always thought it was so amazing that someone from my town was off doing incredible things! I can’t believe I’m moving in across from you that makes it look so much worse oh god, I promise I’m not stalking you!” She rambled anxiously.

He laughed, “it’s okay I believe you! I’m surprised honestly that you remember me, we were what? 5? That’s a good memory you must have?”

She walked over to him and out of the way of the men moving her boxes into her apartment, that’s what she was paying them for anyway. She set the box down on the floor beside herself to free her arms, “I think your first ever friend would leave an impact on your memory.”

“We did have a good bond before I was transferred out,” he recalls with a smile.

“Well,” she smiled right back, “I also work with the FBI if you want to get coffee before work on Monday and catch up? See if there’s a possibility of being friends once again?”

“Yeah!” he answers abruptly, “I leave around 7:15 normally and I always go to the little cafe down the road, what department are you in?”

“VICAP,” she said, “just a floor above the BAU, surprised I’m only running into you now”

“You sure you’re not stalking me?” he joked.

She shook her head lightly, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. “Promise, just inspired by you, that’s all.”

He chuckled to himself, almost shocked that such a lovely person would be inspired by him. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you get back to moving in and I will see you on Monday Y/N.” he said with a small wave and walked down the corridor.

She sighed to herself, this was going to be amazing.

---

Y/N had barely unpacked anything by the time Monday had rolled around. She spent most of her time working on her bedroom organization, leaving a mess of boxes everywhere else. Going through her closet to find the best outfit for her first-morning commute with Spencer.

Her job didn’t require as much fieldwork as he did, so she could wear anything she wanted to the office as long as it was professional. She settled on black flared dress pants, a nice white turtleneck, the watch her family gave her when she graduated from the academy and her cute healed wedge boots.

She grabbed her purse and wallet, ensuring she had her keys and badge in there before unlocking her safe and clipping her gun to her belt. She grabbed her go bag and coat and draped them over one arm, holding her purse in the other.

With everything she needed, she walked to her front door, turning off her alarm just to change the setting to protect her empty apartment. She closed and locked the door behind herself just as Spencer walked out into the hallway.

“Good morning Spencer,” she said, cheerful as ever.

“You’re awfully cheerful for this time of day,” he yawned after speaking.

“Late night?” she asked, joining him as he walked towards the building entrance.

“We had an emergency case this weekend that kicked my ass, I’ve only been home for 15 hours. Hopefully, today is just a desk day,” he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired as well, from moving this weekend.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, normally I don’t leave till quarter to 8, living farther away now is going to suck a bit.”

“At least our building is nice,” he adds.

“It seems wonderful so far.” He held the door for her as they walked into the parking lot, he dug her keys from her bag, “do you want to take my car?”

“Sure, seeing as I don’t have a car, I normally take the subway,” he said softly, walking to the passenger side and opening the door as he heard the door unlock.

“Well if you want a ride every morning I don’t mind, even If you need rides to emergency cases,” she smiled softly.

Spencer insisted on buying her coffee, saying it was only fair for driving him. But really it was because he wanted to spoil her, ever since she said she was inspired by him his mind hasn’t been able to stop playing that sentence on loop. He’s completely enamoured by her, willing to do whatever it takes to get on her good graces. Not realizing she’s willing to do the same for him.

In no time she’s pulling up to the main building, both of them showing their badges before being allowed access into the parking structure of their building. Y/N parked close to the main elevator, having impeccable luck with getting that spot in the garage.

“We still have time before we’re officially on the clock, if you wanted to come meet my team?” He offered, hitting the button in the elevator for floor 3. His floor.

“I’d love to meet the legend that is Penelope Garcia,” she smiled.

“She is wonderful,” he agreed with a smile.

The elevator dinged and she felt her heart drop into her stomach thinking of how Spencer was going to introduce her. He walked with her towards the glass doors, holding them open for her as she walked into the bullpen.

All eyes were suddenly on Spencer and Y/N, so many faces she’s never seen before, and 2 she knows too well from her research on the BAU. She smiled lightly as she walked towards them all. Spencer not far behind her.

“Good morning,” Spencer smiled a small pressed-lipped smile. “This is agent Y/N Y/L/N, she works up in VICAP, she was one of my best friends in elementary school.”

She smiled, so that’s how. “Hello!” She waved, “It’s so nice to meet you all,”

“Derek Morgan,” the tall dark and handsome one reached his hand out for yours.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands sorry,” she said, grabbing her right middle finger with her left hand and smiling lightly.

He laughed, “wow pretty boy, how come you never told us you have a twin?”

“Do you not shake hands either?” She asked him, “we really do have a lot of catching up to do Spence.”

“Emily Prentiss, it’s lovely to see Spence bring in new friends.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve always admired the BAU, I’ve actually compiled a few of the cases you’ve worked on this year, I’m pretty good at finding patterns even the system overlooks.”

“Oh yes, Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve seen your name on all the emails, thank you you’ve sent some of the best-connected cases to us, you’ve brought justice to people who we would have never connected to cases,” JJ said enthusiastically, “I was actually just about to tell Hotch about the newest one you sent me.”

“It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’ve been carefully looking over this case for 2 years now I knew you’d all be able to help with it. It’s right up your ally,” she nervously laughed.

“You sent in the files on the family annihilator that was going after people he believed to be decedents of Cain from the bible right?” David Rossi asked.

She nodded her head and sighed, “yeah everyone told me it was a stretch to catch onto but when I noticed all the men were from the same online ancestry family tree I knew you guys needed to see it.”

“That was specifically interesting, the death of his own brother led him to seek revenge on the father of murder,” Spencer agreed.

“So what’s this new one you’ve brought us?” Derek asked.

“Oh, would you like to pitch it to us? We’re all here we can meet you in the briefing room before your shift starts upstairs?” JJ offered.

“Oh sure,” she smiled, finally it was her time to show off.

Soon enough, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia and Jenifer Jareau were all staring at you in the briefing room.

“In Wichita Kansas, there have been a string of murders over the last 6 years that have all been incredibly, creepily similar,” she started explaining as she handed out the case files to everyone.

“Each victim is female, 16 to 24, they’ve all been strangled with rope while completely naked, signs of brutal sexual assault, binding and torture. They’ve all been found wrapped in shower curtains and placed in various public locations. Clearly a sign of remorse with how he keeps them covered but still a taunt that we can’t find him even now that he’s 6 victims deep.”

“Clarise Richardson, victim number 1 was raped, strangled with rope and left by an underpass. She was found in 1998, the M.E said she was dead 16 hours when they found her, COD was asphyxiation. Her family reports she was last seen at least 73 hours before she was found. So he kept her for a while. There were fibres under her nails of green carpet, either she was held at someone's house or in a van with carpet like they had in the 70s and 80s.”

“Were there any fingerprints or DNA on the bodies?” Prentiss asked.

“Yes, there was a sperm sample retrieved on victim number 5, Sharon Flynn. Most likely he wore a condom for the rest of his rapes and he wasn’t in the system already. Either he never ejaculated in earlier rapes before he grew to murder or his victims never came forward before 1998.”

“which is highly likely, we saw in the EARs case in California how hard it was to get the men and women who were raped to even come forward. There were 4 confirmed cases in the news before more came forward with similar stories. It’s seen as a shameful thing when in reality it’s just giving them more power if they believe they’ll never be caught.” Spencer explained.

“Yes, it’s very hard to come forward when it happens to you,” she agreed before quickly hanging subject. “I’ve been searching for any rapes in the area with similar MO, choking, BDSM, ropes, vans with green carpet, and I’ve found 3 women who claimed to be raped by a man at festivals the late 70’s who had an orange van with green carpet who bonded them up in a very intricate form of bondage that tightened every time they squirmed to entice them not to move. And from my research, that's the same pattern of rope as the rope burn on the 6 bodies we have.”

“All 6 of them are fairly similar it’s just their dumpsites that sets them apart. He didn’t have one strict area that he stuck to, he seems to have no problem travelling to them.” Emily said, flipping through the files.

“I’m thinking he has a job the requires him to still use his van. Like a travelling plumber, a phone or computer tech, home surveillance or maybe even he’s with Jehovah's witness or the Mormon church. It would explain him being able to get into these women’s houses and neighbourhoods long enough to pick someone, learn their schedule and grab them.” Y/N explained.

“Garcia, can you look into those businesses, as well as independent contractors, satellite companies, mailmen, and anyone else who might have been on the job by the victim's houses on the dates and times they were last seen,” Hotch asked.

“Absolutely, I’ll also run the DNA samples in my other databases.”

“I was about to ask you to do that, I think he might have children. There is a very large gap between the rapes and the jump to rape and murder, if you could run the saliva sample from victim 3 that's on her neck with any foster system or genealogy company to see if he has a son or uncle we can trace his sample to?”

“That's a great idea, I’ve never thought to do that,” Garcia smiled. “I like you, you’re a smart cookie!”

“Looks like we’re headed to Wichita,” Hotch said. “Do you think VICAP would be mad if we stole you for a few days? You have more connections with the Wichita police than we do, they might cooperate more If they know a friendly face.”

“Absolutely, let me grab my go-bag from upstairs!” Y/N jumped up, “I’ll be right back down!”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, And with that, she was out the door.

“Reid if you don’t marry her I will,” Penelope said softly.

“Okay.” He blushed.

—

She took a seat beside Reid on the jet, the two of them chatting amongst themselves for a while before they were called for the second briefing.

“So local PD think they have a recent victim from this weekend they want us to check out,” Penelope said over video chat. “she’s a little different than the others. Katie Newton, 27 was found bound to her bed, already having passed and was being assaulted when her husband came home. He screamed at the guy who was only wearing a ski mask and “tight-y white-y’s” as the husband described. He grabbed his bag and clothes with him but he left her tied up with the little time he had to knock the husband out of the way and run out.”

“Did he get any other identification marks on the unsub?” Y/N asked.

“He said he was pasty white, 5’8 and he didn’t talk. He didn’t scream, nothing, he just grabbed his things and ran. He does however remember he had a very large brown birthmark on his chest covering the right nipple down to his stomach.”

“Okay that’s good to know, why do they think it’s our guy?” Rossi asked.

“Blood found on the rope she was tied up with can match back to 13 different women. 6 of the murders that Y/N brought to us, 1 of the rapes she found and 5 other break-in and rapes of other women in the area.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered to herself.

“Well done on finding this one Y/N, this one is going to be big.” Morgan complimented her with a smile.

“Thanks,” she smiled back, “I didn’t expect any of this when I connected the 6 of them originally. This is insane.”

“have you ever been in fieldwork like this?” Hotch asked.

“At the academy, I was combat trained, I have all my clearances and I’m a great shot. I’m good on my feet and I tested perfectly on hostage talk down.” She tried not to brag but this was almost as important as a job interview.

“Well damn,” Morgan nodded in approval. “We might just have to seal you full time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”

“Good,” hotch smiled, something he didn’t do often. “I’m going to send you and Reid to the M.E to see what else we can find out about these new break-in homicides. Prentiss and Rossi, I want you to travel to the last dumpsite and the latest crime scene to see what else could connect them. Morgan and JJ come with me to the station to set up communication with the local PD and media we don’t need them naming him like they did with BTK.”

“Garcia, would you also widen the search for anyone convicted of sexual misconduct, flashing, stalking, break-ins where underwear was stolen or and peeping toms? Go all the way back to the 70s. If any of them are now working for any businesses that have vans and require him to travel. This guy has to have a mistake somewhere that you will find.” Y/N asked one last time.

“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”

—-

The bureau had the funds for rooms for the main team, meaning Y/N had to double up with someone and she had to decide who once they landed and headed to the hotel.

“It wouldn’t be weird if we got a room with two queen beds right?” She asked Spencer, “it would give us a chance to catch up in our downtime like a sleepover we never had as kids.” She nervously rambled in the SUV as Reid drove.

“No I don’t mind, It would be fun if we get any sleep in this case. This one seems like it will be a bit of a brain rattler.” Reid agreed with a soft pressed-lipped smile.

They booked their rooms, dropped off their things and all headed their separate ways. The M.E’s office was close to the police station, the two of you in an SUV followed Hotch, JJ and Morgan in another down the road.

The bodies had all been cremated or buried shortly after being found, there wasn’t anything fresh enough to examine for them but they did have access to all the information on all the cases.

“I’ve been the medical examiner here for the last 30 years,” the nice old man said as he led them down the hall to the storage room. “These ones have all been some of the worst cases I’ve seen here. So much so that I keep them all in their own boxes just in case a day like today ever happens.”

“That is very helpful for us thank you so much!” She smiled at him as he held the storage door open.

“They’re all labelled by name and date. If you have any questions about tests or need me to run more with what we have left just give me a holler!” He said as he left the room.

Y/N sighed. “Why do I feel like this is going to take a million years?”

“I can read 20,000 words a minute, it will take me 3 hours to read everything in this room. Luckily we only need to read these few boxes.” Spencer pointed at the wall.

“Okay boy wonder, stop showing off,” she smiled, taking the Victim # 5 case box down first. “She was the first one I put into the system when I joined VICAP.”

“Is that why you sent this case to JJ?”

“Partly,” she sighed again. “There was the emotional attachment of this being my first case but there were just too many connections I knew you guys could bring justice to her family. She was so young.”

Spencer opened a box and she watched as his eyes darted across the pages as he flipped through them. She was mesmerized by how he could do that. But he was probably even smarter than god so it made sense.

“This is interesting. They found LSD in the system of the 3 rapes from back in the day which isn’t that uncommon for the time period or the places where they were abducted, but what’s strange is the amount. This is enough LSD to make someone go insane, no one in their right mind would willingly take this much LSD?” Spencer said.

“They were all found 2 days later dehydrated and alone in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way of knowing if more women didn’t have this happen and died where he left them.”

“He is probably in his 50’s now. How fit would he have to be to still be able to break into houses and rape and murder women?” Spencer asked.

“Well that might be just why he stopped dumping, he might have a bad back and can't lift the dead weight. He is more willing to get caught in someone's house so that he doesn’t have to do the dumping, he can just leave after. 5 of the 6 home invasions were with women who lived alone or husbands who worked night shifts. So they wouldn’t be home. He watched them long enough to know when he could successfully get away with this.” Y/N explained as she flipped through boxes.

“And the rope technique our last victim was found in is exactly the same as the rope burns as the others you’re correct,” Spencer complimented her. “He might have ex-girlfriends or even an ex-wife who he would have tried BDSM on and she didn’t like it, so now he feels like he has to do it this way. When we deliver the profile we should alarm the public about him to draw out any women who would have willingly tried something with our unsub.”

Y/N nodded as he spoke, agreeing with everything. “That could have even been the original stressor, all the women are pretty vanilla, I talked to the husbands over the phone and the original rape victims. They weren’t into trying anything like this in their free time. 2 of the rapes were also virgins. They all had good jobs and good grades, they were outstanding, low-risk members of the community. He might be getting revenge on the women who wouldn’t indulge in this fantasy.”

“He probably feels a lack of control in his personal life, maybe he even has a more dominating wife who he feels he can't stand up to so this is how he deals with it.” Spencer agreed.

“Let's go see Hotch, I think we should deliver the profile.”

—-

They walked into the police station, gliding through the doors like they owned the place. Emily and JJ watched as they walked over to hotch with the exact same energy. Both speaking with their hands and rambling about what they had found.

“So he’s a fit, early 50’s, white male. Married, probably with kids, works with or owns a van. He has a problem with authority in his own life, he feels like he is in a submissive role all day be it from a female boss who’s always on his ass or his wife. It’s possible he even has only daughters and no sons. He feels emasculated, surrounded by women, which is why he started taking these women originally to rape them with BDSM-like acts to finally have that control he lacks in his everyday life.” Y/N explained. “He wouldn’t be very handsome, he would have issues speaking with most women, he keeps to himself, he might have even failed out of jobs involving the police or security, he wants to be in a place of power but he has none of the social skills to accomplish what he wants. I would even look into local army cadets or boy scouts he could be a very old member or the father of someone in one of those groups. His affinity for binding them up and the types of ropes he used are very common BDSM ropes but the knots are reminiscent of ones my brothers would do in at Navy cadets.”

“You got all that from the M.E?” Derek said, shocked at how good she was at this.

“I’ve been staring at his work for 2 years, every time a case from this town came in I checked into it to tie it to this guy. I don’t know what it is but this one gets to me, like BTK or Ed Kemper, these men have specific vendettas against women, they need to dominate women because they have a strong mother or wife in their presence. I know the type of man he is and I want to see him rot in prison.”

Spencer walked over to another table, spreading out a map and beginning to look at the geographical profile. Making down the 3 rapes and their dumpsites, the 6 abducted women and their dumpsites as well as the 6 home invasion homicides. Narrowing down on the geographical profile to find his comfort zone.

Y/N stood beside him watching him draw perfect circles over the map, placing a dot right in the middle. “He either lives or works in this area. Everything is within 35 miles of this area.”

Hotch took out his phone and called Garcia, placing the phone on the table with the speaker on. “Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?”

“Have you narrowed anything down?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, I have 117 orange vans originally bought in the late ’70s that are still registered to men in this area all between the ages of 45 and 60. 63 of them work in home security, 13 of those have a son in boy scouts and 4 of those have prior peeping tom allegations.” She explained.

“Any of the 4 look interesting?” Hotch asked.

“We have Travis Johnson, 55 he works for Acorn Security, he was doing service in each town that a murder took place the same week they went missing. He is married and has been since 1980 right when he stopped raping and his 5th and last daughter was born the same week that Clarice Richardson was murdered in 1998. They took in a foster child to give him a boy 3 years ago who is in boy scouts, and has all his badges in you guessed it, knot tying.”

“Do we have his home and work address?” Morgan asked.

“Yes of course I do chocolate thunder, they’ve been sent to you already. I’ve also sent a list of his appointments for today, he might be on the hunt.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan smiled at the phone.

“It's what they pay me the big bucks for.”

She hung up and hotch immediately started handing out bullet-proof vests. “Time to catch him.”

Spencer rested a hand on your back as he passed you, smiling as if to say 'good job'.

Y/n grabbed her vest and her go-bag and quickly changed into something more suited for chasing after a runner. It almost always came to that in her experience. She came back out in jeans and a white long sleeve shirt tucked in, her vest on and her hair up. She placed her earpiece in and straightened out her gun. Making sure the clip was full and adding an extra one to her vest.

“Ready?” She asked Spencer as he tightened his vest.

“Let’s do this.”

They split up, Prentiss Rossi and JJ went to his house while Reid, Morgan, Hotch and Y/L/N took a squad of local cops to where the unsub was supposedly doing his house calls.

They slowly drove through the neighbourhoods, lights off just paroling up and down the streets. They saw an orange van parked on the side of the street, they watched as the unsub got out of the driver's seat, grabbing a bag and walking up to a woman’s house. Slowly they all got out of the SUV, Morgan and Hotch taking the back while Reid and Y/L/N took the front door. They waited for confirmation that he wasn’t alone in this home, before going in.

They could hear a woman talking and then there was a scream, “I’m going in,” Y/L/N said, Kicking the door down before Reid took the lead, Y/N following behind him.

“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.

The two of them cleared the main room, working their way to the hallway, Reid let her take the lead to the bedroom where they heard the struggle.

“Travis put down the rope and let her go,” Y/N said slowly as he walked into the room, gun pointed.

“And why should I?” He panicked, holding the woman against his chest, she was crying gripping onto the rope he was holding tightly around her throat.

“I’m a huge fan of your work!” Y/N said. “I work for VICAP, I’m the one who had to put each and every single one of your victims in the system. I know exactly how much you’re into control and BDSM, it’s honestly surprising that you have to force these women into it, why are women so against letting a big strong man control them anymore?” She said softly as she lowered the gun and her voice.

“You know, I’ve always thought BDSM was super sexy, I’d love to be tied up and taken control of, if you put down the rope how would you like to have a willing participant one day?” She teased him, getting closer and closer, she could see he was rock hard. He loosened the rope and pushed her to the side, stepping forward towards Y/N who quickly flipped him to the floor and cuffed him.

“Travis Johnson you are under arrest for the rape and murder of over 12 women. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one will be appointed for you. If you chose to share anything without a lawyer present you have the right to stop at any time. Is that clear?”

She single handily lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the room as the men in the hall just watched with awe.

“You’re a little bitch you know that?” The unsub said as he struggled in her grasp.

She slammed him against the hallway wall, pressing right up against his back, whispering in his ear “oh so now you have a big mouth huh, finally feel like you can talk to a woman who isn’t tied down? I’m in control here, you’re my little bitch you hear me? Only good boys get to speak to me.” She said as she pulled him back off the wall and handed him off to local PD. “Have fun being a little bitch in prison Travis.”

She stood there with her arms crossed catching her breath as the adrenalin shook through her body.

“Well done Y/L/N,” Hotch and Morgan put their fists out to give her props.

“How would you like to join the team for good?” Hotch asked? “we’ve been looking for an extra hand.”

“Absolutely!”

—

They were going to spend the night in Wichita, all agreeing to spend the night getting drinks at the local bar suggested by the PD. Piling into the SUV all together with Spencer offering to DD.

“How much time have you put into Travis?” Prentiss asked in the back seat beside Y/N.

“Sharon Flynn was the first case I ever put into my system 2 years ago. Her case looked so gruesome and evil it never left my mind. So then when Alice Webster, number 6 came in I did some more digging and found the 4 before Sharon and the 3 rapes, I knew it was cold for a while but something about him always stuck with me. And for some reason last week when I emailed the info to JJ out of the blue I had a gut feeling he was at it again.” Y/N explained.

“It’s a special talent to just feel when something is wrong.” JJ smiled back at them.

“I’ve always been, not fascinated, by serial killers but more interested in the chase of justice.” She explained, “if that makes sense. I love puzzles and finding answers and at least this way the end result is families finding peace.”

They pulled into the parking lot, all of them finding their way into the bar before the ladies went to the bathroom to freshen up.

“So Y/N,” Prentiss said, taking her phone out and calling Penelope. “The ladies of the BAU are very close, so welcome to our little group.”

“exactly.” Penelope said over the phone, “welcome to the group you’re going to fit right in!” She cheered.

“Thank you, VICAP was not a tight-knit group like y’all are. I’m extremely excited to get to know you all more.” Y/N smiled as she straightened her shirt out in the mirror.

“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.

“We were in the same kindergarten class,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I thought he was going to be my best friend and then he took some test and was bumped into 4th grade. By the time I was in high school he had already finished his second Ph.D.”

“So you never kept up with each other?” Prentiss asked.

She shook her head. “I knew of him, my mom is the Activities Organizer at the home his mom is at, he used to go to the park across from my house, he now lives across the hall from me and works with me. I think we were always supposed to be friends but it wasn’t the right time till now.”

“Sounds like you have a crush,” Penelope teased through the phone.

“I do.” She smiled to herself. “I think I always have.”

“If pretty boy was here he’d say that there is a statistical likelihood that because you’ve been interested in him for longer than 3 years you’re most likely in love with him and you'll never not be.” Prentiss explained, “I heard him say that to Hotch once.”

She nodded along, “I guess I just need to get him to fall in love with me now.”

“It won't be that difficult.” JJ placed her hand on Y/N’s back and they all made their way out of the bathroom smiling.

The men were all sitting together at a table with everybody’s drinks already waiting.

“We didn’t know what you liked,” Spencer said as Y/N sat beside him. “So I said I’d go get whatever you want.”

“Or we can go up to the bar together.” She smiled.

The two of them got up and walked to the bar, the rest of the team watched them.

She leaned against the bar, ordering her drinks and pressing in close to Spencer. “It’s been so nice getting to spend time with you.” He said softly.

She was handed her drinks before she could even respond. Taking her tequila shot there and bringing her margarita back to the table as Spencer followed swiftly behind her.

They all drank and exchanged case stories from within and beyond the BAU, Spencer was able to add a lot of input but he was always cut off. Y/N leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you can tell me all your facts later I really want to hear them.” She smiled so softly Spencer felt his heart about to burst in his chest.

Emily left the group to go flirt with the bartender, JJ was on FaceTime in the SUV with Will, Rossi had disappeared with a local woman and Hotch and Morgan were exchanging childhood stories over a beer in the corner.

The bar was playing old, slow music, almost everyone had filtered out but there were still older local couples hanging out and dancing in the middle of the room.

“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.

“I can try.”

She took his hand and led him to the floor. Drunk on the alcohol and his touch as she slipped his hands around to her back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head on his chest. She felt his cheek rest on the top of her head as the two of them just swayed in a circle together.

“Do you have any other memories of me?” Y/N asked him softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You lived across the street from the park, and your mom works at the nursing home. You have 2 younger brothers who have always looked older than you. They would come and go when I was sitting on the lone swing and I’d always see you in the window reading. I knew you were my age but it still never felt right for me to talk to you when I was in university.”

“I watched you every time you were on the swings, you looked so peaceful. You read at least a book a day every time you were out there and it became so special to me seeing you there every weekend.” She explained.

“The world works in mysterious ways.” He explained.

She held him as close as she could. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect her day to go like this. She expected coffee and a weird goodbye in the elevator and staring at a computer screen all day. Somehow she ended up in Spencer's arms in a different state after having caught the serial killer that's haunted her dreams for years.

He rubbed his thumb lightly over her back, “do you want to go back to the hotel? We have an early flight.” He whispered.

“Yeah,” she smiled pulling back but reaching down to hold his hand as they walked over to Hotch and Morgan.

They drove home quietly, everyone in the back was happily drunk and tired. They parked and wandered up to their rooms, saying goodbye at their doors and disappearing into their rooms.

Spencer let her take the bathroom first, changing into her PJ’s and then he did the same. She laid in her bed, facing his as he sat up and read.

“Can I come lie beside you?” She asked, knowing exactly how needy she sounded.

He nodded, pulling the sheet back so she could slip right in. She laid on her side and just looked up at him. Absolutely astounded that she was with him.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Spencer asked, putting his book down and sliding down the bed to be on her level.

“Yeah?” She said nervously.

“Today you said it’s hard for people to come forward after they are assaulted, it sounded like personal experience and I wanted you to know if you need anyone, I’m always available for you.” He explained.

“Oh,” her face dropped. “I was 12, he was 15. You were in high school at the same time as him. I don’t know if you’d remember him, his name was Christopher.”

Spencer nodded along as she spoke. “When my mom finally went back to work she didn’t trust me watching my brothers alone so her friend offered to babysit us during the days. Her foster son took advantage of me the whole summer and when my parents finally found out he went into Sophomore year and told everyone that the nerdy girl who looks like bugs bunny was obsessed with him, that I stalked him and that anything I said about him wasn’t real.”

“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his hand over her shoulder to soothe her.

“It’s okay, they used to call me bugs bunny because of my overbite. I used to rest my front teeth on my front lip and they would throw carrots at me,” she explained further.

“It all makes sense now,” he said softly.

“What does?”

“When I was 13 the seniors had a cheerleader invite me onto the football field and convinced me to strip down to my underwear, she was about to kiss me when all the football guys ran out and beat me up, they tied me to the goal post and the one said ‘we should really hook you up with bugs bunny, you losers would be perfect together.’ And they left me there all night long.”

“Oh Spencer I am so sorry,” she cuddled in close to him, placing her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I think we went through our traumas separately all these years because something bigger than us knew we’d need each other one day.”

“When we get back to Virginia, would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked.

“I would want nothing more.” She hugged him a bit tighter.

They stayed like that for a while until Spencer felt Y/N slip into the night's slumber. He quietly reached for the lamp, turning it off and readjusting himself under Y/N’s grasp.

He fell asleep not so long after. Both sleeping soundly for the first time in a long time.

Chapter 2

They had 3 back to back cases once they arrived back at Quantico. They travelled from DC to California to North Carolina within 2 weeks of Y/N working with the BAU.

Meaning she had not yet gone on that date Spencer asked her out on.

“If we get another call as soon as I reach that elevator I am leaving and not coming back. I am exhausted,” Emily said as she packed her bag and all but sprinted for the door.

“I hope my car still runs, it’s been parked here for so long now,” Y/N added and she walked towards the door. “You coming Spence?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car,” he said with a smile as he waved her off.

Emily and Y/N waited for the elevator, Penelope and JJ quickly followed behind them with their bags in their hands. Penelope’s heels clicked as fast as they could against the floor as she tried to catch up.

“Girls night?” JJ asked, “Will said Henry is asleep and he’s about to go to bed too, so I’m free for a bit?”

“I have to go home, I’ve barely moved into my new apartment, I still have to unpack,” Y/N explained.

“How about we come have some wine and help you?” Emily offered.

“If I’m being honest, I kinda want some alone time with Spencer.” She blushed bright red.

“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.

“It’s about time someone gave Spencer the attention he deserves,” Emily laughed.

“Believe me he’s going to get too much attention now that I live across the hall from him, work with him and carpool with him,” she giggled right back. “Has he never had a girlfriend before?”

“Not that we know of,” JJ said, “he’s very quiet.”

“Have you?” Penelope asked, “dated before that is?”

“oh no, I’ve never dated anyone before, I haven’t even kissed anyone in years,” she said feeling bashful and embarrassed.

“I think that's what Spencer needs though,” Emily added, “He needs someone on the same level as him all ‘round, you two match in every sense it’s almost perfect.”

“He’s probably the only man who doesn’t make me feel scared like I want my first real love to be with someone I feel safe with, I don’t think I could do anything with like, Morgan or Hotch or any men like them. They’re nice, yeah but the aggressive authority side isn’t something I’m comfortable around outside of work.” She explained.

“Yeah, Spencer is a sweetheart. I think that’s why I didn’t end up with him honestly.” JJ said softly, “Gideon tried to hook us up years ago cause we were the youngest on the team, but I do crave that authority outside of work.”

“It’s probably because you’re in power here. You handle the media, you wear the pants and you get shit done,” Y/N said, “you want to go home and be taken care of by a man who knows how to run a household.”

“Exactly!” JJ laughed.

“I want to be taken care of, yes, but I rather be the caretaker at home. I just want someone who will do their own thing with me in the same room, to kiss me before we go to bed and make sure I know they love me.” Y/N said softly, only picturing a life with Spencer as she said it.

The elevator never moved the whole time they were in there, it dinged and opened to Spencer and Morgan waiting. “You guys are that tired you didn’t even make it to your cars?” Morgan teased.

“didn’t even push the button actually,” Y/N chimed in.

“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.

“well let’s go home finally,” Morgan and Spencer walked in, pressing the button to the garage and riding down in silence.

Spencer waited for Y/N to exit the elevator last before walking with her to her car. She unlocked it and got in, watching and waving as her new friends pulled out of the garage.

“Ready?” She asked, pulling out as soon as she saw Spencer nod his head with his cute little pressed-lip smile.

They drove home in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in weeks. The drive was quick, 30 minutes in the cold, dark, Virginia wilderness.

She parked in their parking lot, yawning as she turned the car off. She grabbed her purse from the back seat and made her way inside with Spencer.

“You going to sleep?” She asked him when they reached her door.

“Probably not, my brain is still too caught up in the cases,” he said honestly.

“Would you like to come in for some tea? To calm down before bed?” She offered as she unlocked her door.

She stepped inside, unlocking the alarm with the 4 digit code. Spencer tried his best not to listen but he failed, he’ll remember the sound of the code forever now.

She flicked on the light and looked around at the mess she left in her living room. “God I forgot it’s a mess in here,” she groaned.

Spencer followed her inside, following her lead and dropping his bag on the floor. He watched as Y/N walked around the house with her hand on her gun, clearing each room to make sure it was still safe.

“Sorry, I live alone, I don’t take any chances,” she said as she came back into the room.

She unlocked her safe and placed her work gun inside, closing it and spinning the lock right after. She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms out over her head. “It’s so nice to be back in this mess.”

“I can help you unpack this weekend?” Spencer offers.

“If you want to that would be nice, I’ll order us some take out too.”

She picked up the boxes on her couch and moved them to the floor, she cleared off her coffee table and took the lamps out of the box in the corner. She plugged them into the wall and set them on the end tables. Luckily her furniture was in place all she had to do was put out all her little trinkets, books and photos.

Spencer took a seat on her couch, opening a box with mugs and cups, taking them all out of their bubble wrapping and setting them on the coffee table.

Y/N managed to find her kettle, as well as the box of random food she brought from her old cupboard. She set out a variety of teas and digestive biscuits.

Spencer slowly brought the mugs over, placing them in the cupboard of Y/N’s choosing, making sure he left 2 mugs out for them.

“Can I have a green tea?” Spencer asked softly.

“Of course, is it your favourite?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I would like some caffeine but I’m not interested in having a coffee, so this is a good middle ground.”

“I’m not a fan of most hot drinks, that's why I drink ice coffee in the mornings,” Y/N poured the hot water into both cups, leaving room for milk in both mugs just in case. “But, Orange Pekoe is my favourite.”

She placed a tea bag in each mug and handed Spencers to him.

She watched him add a little sugar to his mug before picking it up and returning to the sofa. She followed him shortly after adding milk and sugar to her own, as well as a plate of cookies.

She sighed as she settled in to the couch. “Going to try my hardest to manifest a full weekend off, with no cases, if my spirit guides loved me they will listen.” She jokes.

“You’re spiritual?” He asks.

“A little?” She shrugs, “I’m very into natural medicine, lunar cycles, manifesting and affirmations. Basically what would be considered a witch back in the day.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I had a pretty invasive surgery when I was 17, and because of the body trauma, I developed fibromyalgia. And there really aren’t any answers or explanations for it so I had to turn to something to bring me peace and pain relief.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s okay, eating right, taking my supplements, sleeping and exercise help. Basically, if I take care of myself my body will thank me,” she huffed out a small laugh. “It’s annoying waking up in pain randomly for no reason. I rather wake up sore from taking down an unsub, at least then, the pain is more like a reward, you know?”

Spencer nodded along and smiled softly, “I’m glad you found something that helps you.”

“How about you? I’m guessing you’re a science-only man?”

He laughed, “yes.”

“So do you believe in soulmates?” She asked on a whim.

“In the scientific sense of the word yes. I believe when the big bang happened, all the atoms, electrons and particles that split to make the universe as we know it, still exist in us today. Who’s to say that they don’t pull back to each other, causing a cosmic connection,” Spencer explained softly, his voice low as he explained himself.

Y/N set her drink down, moving in closer to him on the couch. “And how do you know when you’ve met your other half?” She asked. Her voice was just as low.

Spencer set his mug down as well, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, “I think everything would just make sense with them. They’d orbit each other's lives for so long, observing and acknowledging one another and finally one day they’ll connect.”

He leaned in and pressed his perfectly soft lips against hers. She reached her hand around the back of his neck and held him into the kiss. Breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to keep the moment forever.

She pulled back, her breathing was deep as she opened her eyes to look into his. “If you weren’t just explaining the big bang to me, I’d think that was it.”

He laughed at her joke, making both of their hearts soar. She pressed him back against the sofa, adjusting themselves so that she was lying partially on top of him as they cuddled in her crowded living room.

They could hear the sound of the world going on around them. The subtle hum of the subway below them. The distant car horns, someone upstairs was walking around in their apartment.

They were completely quiet then, just cuddled up in their own world without any distractions. The two of them let their hands wander each other as they laid there.

Y/N slowly sat up, peeling herself out of Spencer's grip. “Do you want to spend the night here?”

“I’m just going to run across the hall and get ready for bed, I can lock up when I come back?” He said softly.

“Okay, the button with the person inside the house is the one you hold down on the alarm system after you lock both locks,” she explained before standing up and walking into her bedroom.

She changed into a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She brushed her teeth and hair, throwing it up in a little bun. She took out her contacts, replacing them with her glasses. She washed her face, watered her plants and sat down in her bed finally.

She had her hand on her night side drawer, where she keeps her other gun, just in case the person coming into her house wasn’t Spencer. But then she heard the alarm system arm, both locks clicked, the sound of dishes being placed in the sink and finally the sound of a lamp being clicked off.

Spencer slipper clad feet against the hardwood floor is all she heard as he walked into her room. He took the right side of the bed, wearing his PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt. It was really the first time she was him so dressed down.

She settled down into the bed, she put her glasses on her side table, plugged in her phones and turned out the light. Spencer spooned into her, cuddling in tight and holding her against his chest.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

She didn’t fall asleep right away. She basked in the glory that was Spencer Reid’s warm embrace. The feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand on her stomach.

“I love you.” Was the last thing she thinks she heard before she finally fell asleep.

—

She woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and clicked talk. “SSA Y/L/N,” she said.

“Hey, it’s Penelope.”

“What’s up?”

“Not a case don’t worry, I was just wondering if I could stop by with some iced coffee and breakfast sandwiches to help you unpack?” She asked way too cheerfully for whatever time it was.

“Uh yeah just give us a chance to wake up, can you come by in 30?” She said as she rubbed her eyes, waking up.

“Us?”

“Uh, yeah, Spencer came in for tea and slept on the couch,” she lied.

“No I didn’t,” he groggily chimed in from where he was cuddled into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Right okay, so I’ll bring Spencer some breakfast too then,” she said before hanging up.

Y/N placed the phone back on her night table, settling back into Spencer’s embrace.

“Why’d you lie?” He asked.

“Didn’t know if I had your consent to tell her about us yet,” she whispered into his hair as she placed kisses on his head.

“Morgan told me if I didn’t kiss you last night, he’d make me do another round of physical evaluations,” he smiled against her skin. “He wanted to win the bet everyone set to see who would kiss who first.”

“So you just helped the guys win?”

“Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were betting for me to kiss you first,” he admitted.

“Well, that means Rossi, Garcia and JJ think I’m the one wearing the pants here. Good to know,” she giggled.

“You can wear the pants,” he said as he shifted his weight to look up at her, “as long as I get to take them off later.”

“Well, Dr. Reid, I never thought you’d have it in you,” she was pleasantly surprised.

“When I get comfortable around someone I’m a lot different than I am at work,” he explained, “I heard what you said about needing someone to take care of who still wants to take care of you.”

She blushed, “of course you did.”

He leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck. “I think we can work something out,” he whispered.

Her breathing hitched. She couldn’t believe the complete 180º his personality just took, and she wasn’t complaining. All the moisture left her mouth as she just nodded her head in agreement.

“We should get up before she gets here,” he said, kissing her one last time before crawling out of bed.

She laid there staring up at the ceiling, shocked, flabbergasted, enamoured, basically every single word that essentially meant ‘what the fuck just happened.'

She got up, turned off the alarm and waited to use the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and replaced her tank top with a sweater. Spencer slipped across the hall to change into jeans and a button-down shirt, almost like he couldn’t be in anything else around his friends.

Penelope was a hugger, she made sure to give Y/N a good squeeze as she walked into her apartment. “It’s literally the same as Reid’s just backwards,” was the first thing she said.

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been over there yet,” Y/N smiled, taking the coffees out of Penelope’s hands and setting them on the counter.

“JJ and Emily said they’d love to come help later too if you want them to, but it doesn’t look too bad for just the 3 of us,” she said looking around.

“Everything is labelled, my room is all done so you don’t need to worry about it, set up however you see fit, honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss figuring out how to make this place feel more like me with what I have.”

“Alright, well,” she started, looking for the box with the cleaning supplies. “First we clean the kitchen then we put everything where it has to go.”

So that's what they did, they spent a few hours wiping down every surface in the house, disinfecting the floors, the walls, door handles, nobs, everything. Then Penelope got out all her pots and pans, hanging them on the rack above the kitchen island.

Spencer took all the plates out, stacking them neatly in the cabinet. Y/N stacked her cups and glasses, placing them on the shelf with the glass door. They organized her utensils, baking equipment, cookbooks and aprons, asking all about how much she baked.

She offered to make cookies for the team soon, that was a Sunday night with Spencer activity for sure.

In the living space, there weren’t many things. Spencer unpacked the books and placed them on her shelves in library-coded order. While Penelope and Y/N unboxed all her albums and records, cheering and singing along to their favourites.

Y/N had never quite had friends like this before, people who just fit into her life so easily. This was really the best family in the FBI, they knew how to make someone feel completely and wholly loved.

“I need to get some art and stuff,” Y/N said staring at the one empty wall.

“What are you going to do on the fireplace mantle?” Spencer asked, noticing it was still empty.

“Probably some of my spiritual stuff, like my crystals and candles and incense,” she smiled.

“oh, I do that too!” Another thing they had in common.

The day blew past them. They finished unpacking and breaking down all the boxes by 2 pm, finally sitting down altogether, exhausted. Ready to order a few pizzas and chill for the rest of the afternoon.

—

“I really appreciate the help today,” she said as she hugged Penelope. Penelope’s hugs were more comforting than her own mother’s, she thought. Holding her tightly and taking it all in. “I’m so blessed I ran into Spencer and now I get to be your friend.”

“I will cry,” she joked as she hugged y/n tighter. “I’m very blessed to have met you as well.”

She hugged Spencer on her way out as well, forcing herself to leave or else she would have stayed and talked for hours.

As soon as Spencer closed the door behind her, he set the alarm the way Y/N liked it. She smiled at him, seeing him remember how she likes to feel completely safe.

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. “Would you like to make out with me on my bed?”

“Like horny teenagers?” He giggled, dropping his forehead to rest on hers.

“We never really got the horny teenage experience,” she said softly.

“Are you-?” He cut himself off before he could say the word.

She looked up at him, her eyes big and innocent, she nodded. “technically.”

“Technically?” He repeated softly.

“I don’t want to count my sexual assault as my first,” she whispered. “I’ve never let anyone touch me since.”

His arms wrapped tighter around her, pulling her in closer to be right against his chest. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I’m going to try my best to never hurt you.”

She kissed him deeper, her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting to part from him. But when she did, she whispered, out of breath. “Promise to only hurt me if I ask you to?”

He saw the way his breath hitched and the way his grip changed. His face went red as he nodded feverishly.

“Are you a virgin Dr. Reid?” She teased.

“No,” he whispered. “I uh had sex in college, just to get it out of the way.”

She broke out of his grasp, taking his hand and pulling him into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them flicking on her fairy lights and lighting a couple of candles. He sat patiently on her bed as he watched her nervously organize things that had no reason to be organized in that moment.

But he let her calm down until she was fully ready, or she changed her mind. Either way, he was going to hang out with her all night long, however she wanted him.

“Close your eyes,” she asked softly. “Lay back against the bed and don’t look at me yet.” She ordered him and he listened.

He pressed his eyes closed and scooted up the bed till his head was on a pillow, laying back with his hands over his eyes. He listened closely to the sound of her taking her clothes off. She tried to steady her breath as she pulled off her sweater and sports bra and replace it with something cute.

She put on her only pair of matching underwear, ones she got on sale at some department store that she only wore for herself so far. She crawled up the bed, sitting directly on Spencer's hips.

She took his hands off his eyes, noticing they were still closed, she smiled. She placed his hands on her bare hips. “Open them.”

He opened his eyes to the most stunning image he’s ever seen in his life. Blinking a few times as his mind burned the image into the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Fuck,” he whispered.

She smiled to herself, “thought you’d like it.”

She leaned down, arching her back and kissed his neck. His hands travelled from her thighs to her perched ass as she kissed up his jaw to his ear. He was nothing but breathy moans and thank you’s as she explored him.

She ground herself down on his growing erection, smirking against his skin. She sat back on his hips, wiggling as she undid each of his shirt buttons, way too slow.

She took her time, pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans and finally spreading the shirt open. Her hands ran over his chest before she used her nails to scrape her way down to his jean buttons.

He reached for her hands then. Stopping her and looking up into her eyes. “Before we start, I need to know what will trigger you,” he said softly.

“Oh,” her face dropped a little, she was a little overwhelmed with the fact he was asking, but she knew he truly cared. “I can’t do blowjobs yet, I will probably have a panic attack.”

“I can live without them,” he smirked, “look at everything else you do, fuck you’re amazing.” His hands roamed her skin the whole time.

She tucked her ankles under his knees and in one swift moment flipped them from laying on his side of the bed to the middle. He was on top of her now, absolutely amazed that she could do that.

“Told you I was combat trained,” she giggled.

Spencer sat up on the bed, ripping his shirt off and pushing himself out of both his jeans and underwear at the same time. Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open and the sight of his perfect cock bouncing free.

He sat back, trying to tug his jeans off of his ankles when he fell back and landed on the hardwood floor, “Spencer!” She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her.

He huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly bit her lip to try and stop laughing.

“When you said horny teenager phase I didn’t think you meant the awkward part too,” he smiled, standing completely naked in front of her.

“Get back here,” she giggled.

He got right back on top of her, between her legs that she wrapped immediately around him. Locking him in place. “How would you like it?” He asked.

“Well hypothetically,” she began with a smirk, “I think I would like to ride you, sitting up, tits in your face, the whole shebang.”

He forgot how to breathe, the most beautiful girl in the world just laid out how she wants to be fucked like it was a science experiment.

He was in love with her.

She flipped him again, “you have to stop doing that!” He gasped.

She laughed as she sat up, getting off him enough so he could sit up against the headboard. She shimmied out of her underwear before sitting down on him again, their most intimate parts just resting close to one another. She shivered at the feel of his hot skin against hers. She’d never been this close to another human before.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked, suddenly shy.

“If you want one yeah but I have an IUD in case I get,” she stopped herself, “you know, in the field.”

“Yeah that's smart,” he was so nervous.

She leaned in and kissed him. Holding his cheeks in her hands as his hands reached behind her back to undo her bra. She opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue as she felt the straps of her bra slip down her shoulders.

She let go of his face one hand at a time and peeled the bra from her skin. Flinging it across the room without looking and pressing her breasts against his chest.

She gets on her knees without breaking the kiss, reaching between them she grips the base of his cock. His breath hitches in his throat and she can feel his pulse in his shaft.

She drags the head through her folds, she breaks the kiss to breathe in his ear, “you know, you’re just a bit bigger than what I'm used to.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She lines him up with her and slowly pushes down on him, pulling up and back down again, each time getting his cock a little wetter on her juices so he can slip in easier. “I think it was called the emerald stud, he’s in a box over there,” she whispers in his ear as she bottoms out.

She sits back, her arms around his shoulders, she rocks on his cock. His eyes slip shut as he dips his head back against her crossed wrists. “Fuck,” he breathes.

She shifts again, bouncing more on him when she’s used to his size. His hands are on her ass again, helping her bounce as he moved to kiss her neck and collarbones.

He’s all noises, hot breath against her chest and sloppy kisses. She reaches between them to rub her clit before he pushes her hand out of the way to rub her himself. Feeling how swollen she is, he squeezes her clit lightly.

She moans out a high pitches squeak that she had no idea she could make, covering her mouth as she bounced a little harder on his cock. “Fuck Spencer,” she whispered into his hair.

He kissed her ear again, “you want me to cum in you?” He asks.

“God yeah, fill me up,” she replies without thinking, tossing her head back and grinding down ever so provocatively on him.

She presses her front against him more, causing the friction from his index finger on her clit to get more intense as she bucks her hips faster and faster against him.

He’s gone. Absolutely destroyed. He cants even worn her that he’s about to cum he just tips his head back and fucks up into her, gripping her ass so tight that he knows she’s going to have 5 deep, finger-shaped, purple bruises around each ass cheek.

Her orgasm rips through her, losing balance with her shaking thighs she gasps for air, falling into him with her face in the crook of his neck. She is breathing so hard as she comes down, she drools on his neck a little.

He pulls his hand out from between them, flicking her clit on last time. Sending a tremor through her body. She twitches against him, tensing up and tightening around the cock still inside her.

He moans once more, and she feels the tiniest trickle of cum slip out of her as he lifts her off him.

They don’t talk. They just hold onto one another, breathing and rubbing their hands over each other's skin.

“Wow,” Spencer finally says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“Hypothetically,” he says with a smile, “I think the outcome we reached was the intended goal?” Only Spencer Reid would make a joke like that after sex.

She laughed and kissed his neck, “very successful, I would be willing to switch techniques next time to see if we can repeat this outcome.”

“Sounds like a date.”

chapter 3

They worked together perfectly. Every morning he’d head across the hall to his own apartment to get ready, coming back to a slice of toast and coffee in his travel mug ready to go.

She looked gorgeous every morning. She put time and effort into what she wore to work, just to chase psychopaths all day. He was in love with her, its the only thing he knew for sure when he looked at her. He was never going to recover from falling for her.

He’d hold all her things while she sets the alarm and locks the door. She would drive them to work each morning and even then he’d carry all her things up to the office.

Everyone noticed how Spencer changed around Y/N, he was always smiling, he was basically glowing from being in love, and having sex. Derek teased him constantly, but in all honesty, he was really proud of his little bro.

They had a slow day, which meant all the ladies filed into Penny’s office to shoot the shit when they were really supposed to be writing reports.

“So?” Penelope looked at Y/N with an arched eyebrow. “How is he?”

She shook her head and giggled to herself. “Really good.”

“Really?” Emily pried?

“He has this other personality that comes out when we, you know,” she was afraid to say fuck inside the walls of Penelope’s office. “I’m addicted, I was so afraid to have sex and now I’m like having an internal battle of is it really worth getting caught in the filing room for a quicky!”

They all burst into laughter, sharing stories of all the times each of them has fucked at work, “you won't get caught if you let us help you?” JJ said with a smirk.

“You’re kidding?” Y/N tilted her head, not believing her.

“I can ask Morgan and the team to lunch while you stay here, text Spencer saying to stay back to get work done but he can meet you in here.” Penelope planned the whole thing.

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable enough for that yet.” She was being completely honest.

“We need a code word for when you choose to use this plan,” Emily said. “Like you group text us the word ‘switch’ and we will keep everyone busy for you and Spence.”

“Why do you want me to fuck him here so bad?”

They all laughed, “because we’re not used to Spence getting this kind of love!” JJ said. “Emily and Penelope covered for me literally when me and Will made Henry.”

“having a hand in making my godson gave me a god complex,” Penelope joked.

They got along fabulously, laughing and working all afternoon before the boys came to get them.

“We got something.”

Y/N walked out first joining Spencer in the hall with a smile, standing close enough to him as they walked that their knuckles rubbed together. She sat beside him in the briefing room, opening the case file in front of her and flipping through the info.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself. “I know a few of the 13 women, I put them in the missing system.”

Spencer rubs his hand over her back softly, looking at the pages she’s flipping through.

Garcia wasn’t cheery anymore, she grabbed the remote for the tv and started her rundown.

“Over the last 6 days, police in Winnemucca Nevada have dug up 13 bodies of women who have gone missing in the last 10 years. He seems to kill sporadically without patterns. M.E has confirmed all 13 women, and de-comp shows they were all killed within 24 hours of going missing.”

“Cause?” Prentiss asked.

“All 13 were strangled with plastic shopping bags, that were left wrapped around their faces in the graves. They were all sexually assaulted antemortem, but not all of them died from asphyxiation. He also stabbed 9 of the 13 victims, 5 of which died from massive blood loss. But the real kicker was that all 13 of them had their wombs removed.” Penelope finished.

“Do we know if any of them were pregnant?” Y/N asked.

“Yes,” she said flipping through slides, “victim number 13, Traci Purcell was 17 and according to her autopsy, her HCG levels indicated she would have been 3 weeks along when she was murdered.”

“Are they able to see if the others were pregnant?” Hotch asked.

“They’re working on it, best bet will be for me to pull medical records and to ask the family.”

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch nodded towards the door.

Slowly but surely they all filed into the plane, Y/N took a window seat, quickly burying her head in the file, looking at each and every victim carefully.

“Spence, would you help me place the geographical profile?” Y/N asked him softly as he got comfortable in the seat across from her.

“Once we take off we can spread out the map,” he smiled softly back at her. Even when dealing with the hard cases they managed to get caught up in each other's eyes.

“Okay love birds, can I sit here too or will I get more than air sickness?” Morgan said, pretending to feel sick as he sat beside Y/N.

She smacked his arm lightly.

“Speaking of,” Spencer said, stopping to swallow nervously. “Hotch I’m going to need 2 of the workplace fraternization forms when we get back.”

Everyone on the plane cheered at him, he got 3 high-fives and all the congratulations in the world. Y/N immediately felt her face warm up.

“Don’t worry, Garcia filed them for you that night she helped you unpack,” Hotch smiled into his paperwork.

“How did she even know?” Y/N’s voice went up 3 octaves as she panicked.

“At least we know when pretty boy lost his V card now,” Morgan smirked.

“No, just me.” Y/N corrected him. To which Spencer was given yet another high five.

Just then Spencer was handed $20 from Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. Y/N raised an eyebrow, “why?”

“I bet them $20, years ago, that I am in fact not a virgin and they said they would and I quote ‘only pay me if a woman who has fucked me confirms it.’ So who’s going to tell Gideon to pay up?” He explains.

The team carried on like normal after all the excitement died down. Having side conversations, working on the case, sleeping. The trip from Quantico to Winnemucca was fairly quick.

Y/N sat with Spencer at the table, spreading out the map and watching him place where all 13 victims disappeared from as well as where they were found. They were spread over 3 subdivisions, all 35 miles at least away from the burial sites.

“The park,” Spencer said softly.

“Is that the middle ground?”

“Yeah there’s something significant with the park,” Spencer confirms.

—

Spencer and Y/N went to the M.E together, all 13 women were labelled and displayed under white sheets. They took their time looking over each skeleton and the bodies.

“Clean cuts on the stomach, I wonder why he didn’t stab her?” Spencer said as he looked at the 13th victim.

“She might have cooperated better, or and I hate to say it but, seeing as she was Asian there is a high chance she didn’t bear resemblance to the source of the unsubs rage meaning she got to go out a little easier,” Y/N suggested with a disgusted look on her face.

“The 5 who died of blood loss were all white, brown hair, green eyes. 3 were 26, 2 were 29. They might be exactly his type,” Spencer confirmed the theory.

“They were also murdered,” she flipped her notebook open to show a chart with 5 columns. “June, February, June, November, November. Could also mean something to him.”

“What is that?” Spencer asks.

“It’s a chart that has the name, their age, the missing date and last scene location, the estimated date of death, and the cause. So that I can easily refer to the most important info when making a connection,” She explained. “My brain works better if I can see everything, so I also have my own little hand-drawn map of the area on his page as well as all my ideas in case I don’t get a turn to speak.”

“That’s really smart,” he smiled.

“So June, November and February might be significant to him.”

“Let’s go tell Hotch.”

Spencer drove for once, Y/N sat in the passenger seat in the SUV, doodling into her notebook.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.

“I wrote down the first letter of each month,” she explained, showing him the notebook. “And I circled each of the 3 months that repeat, February, June and November.”

“Okay?” He followed along.

“From February to November it’s 10 months or 40 weeks which is the typical length of a pregnancy,” She explained further. “This whole thing is clearly about pregnancy seeing as he is taking wombs. It’s clearly not a woman seeking revenge because of the sexual assault so it has something to do with him seeking revenge for a pregnancy in his life.”

“Could even be his own, like he’s punishing women who look like his mother because he wishes he was never born,” Spencer ponders.

They pulled into the police station, she got out and walked in all with her head still in the notebook. “Find anything?” Hotch asked.

“Of course she did,” Spencer bragged about her.

—

They all took a break, going back to their hotels to get some rest. All agreeing that since the media hasn’t released anything about this case yet the killed has no idea. They take it in faith that he will stick to his 2 to 4 month waiting period.

They all returned the next morning, refreshed and ready to resume their findings. JJ and Emily spent most of the morning interviewing families of the victims, specifically asking if they knew the vic was pregnant as well as what significance the park played in or around their pregnancies.

Y/N sat in silence with a coffee, flipping through her notebook. Hotch and Morgan were running over ideas they all had with Garcia on the phone.

“Hey, Spence?” Y/N called boy wonder over from the map he had been staring at.

“Yes, my love?” He says softly.

“I think I have an idea, can you go over it with me before we tell the team?” She asked.

“Of course,” he took a seat beside her.

“Why do I have an IUD?” She asks him in a whisper.

“In case you get raped in the field,” he whispered back.

“More specifically.”

“So you don’t get pregnant as a result of a rape in the field.”

“The sexual assaults in his mind, are him getting these victims pregnant. But they’re already pregnant when he picks them right?” She explains, “So that when he removes the uterus postmortem it's his way of aborting the child.”

“So this is all about abortion?” Spencer confirms.

“More specifically to do with how you said he regrets being born,” she corrects.

“Do you think he’s the product of a failed abortion?”

She nodded her head, “yeah and that by taking the whole uterus, and the strangling, and the stabbing, both mother and baby are for sure dead.”

“Hotch!” Spencer called across the room. “Y/N figured it out.”

They waited for JJ and Prentiss to finish an interview before they all piled into an office to discuss Y/N’s idea.

“Is there even any way to know if someone is the product of a failed abortion?” Prentiss asked after Spencer and Y/N took turns explaining how they came to their conclusion.

“Probably the best way would be to search for babies born with the common disabilities that occur in babies of failed abortions, but make sure they were born in November,” Y/N explained.

“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.

Y/N took a whiteout marker and started writing on the whiteboard.

“The 5 victims that died from loss of blood were all exactly the same, they were murdered in June, February, June. November and November.” She explained.

Writing “J F M A M J J A S O N D” on the whiteboard. Circling February, June and November.

“February, conception. 10 months later, or 40 weeks, is November. June is 4 months along meaning that would be when the mother either had the abortion, be it medical or homemade,” Y/N explained.

“Last year alone 146 of the 164,045 abortions resulted as a failure. When this happens most women choose to have the second procedure, or a D and C. Or they can carry the baby the rest of the way to term,” Spencer explained. “Children brought to term from a first-trimester medical abortion failure often have limb or digit abnormalities while infants born from non-medical approved abortions are more likely to have congenital problems.”

“However someone without a limb would not be able to do what our unsub is capable of. Digging graves, abducting, dragging dead bodies, it’s a lot of effort,” JJ added.

“Exactly, which is why I think our unsub probably has a mental disability.”

“Non-medical abortions, most often referred to as the poor person’s method, is taking a non-FDA approved ulcer treatment drug called Misoprostol, which is causing an epidemic of birth defects all along South America and parts of Asia,” Spencer added. “It induces contractions, causing women to deliver babies far too early to survive outside of the womb. If taken after the first trimester, and unsuccessful it can cut off oxygen to the brain long enough to permanently damage development in the frontal lobe.”

“Did the families mention anything about the park?” Y/N asked Prentiss and JJ.

“So far 4 of the victim's husbands say their wives announced they were pregnant on park benches, near the children swinging. They said it was the typical, ‘that could be us one day, that day came sooner than you thought’ moments from movies.” JJ confirmed.

“Let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced, following them all into the precinct.

—

They spent the next few hours looking for anyone with birth defects or mental disabilities that could be a potential suspect. Asking the other officers as well as anyone around the park about the type of man they were looking for.

Morgan and JJ patrolled the park while Rossi and Prentiss asked around on the street.

“Lynette Hayward,” Y/N whispered to herself, standing up and rushing through all the papers on the table in front of her.

“She was the only one who wasn’t pregnant, she was the only one who wasn’t reported missing, she was the oldest and in her youth, she had brown hair and green eyes. What if she’s his mother?” Y/N expressed to Spencer and Hotch who were watching her scramble around.

She pulled her phone out and called Garcia, “what’s cooking good lookin’?” Penelope answered.

“Can you help unscramble my egg brain?” She joked right back.

“Sure thing, whatcha got?”

“Lynette Hayward, does she have children, was she ever pregnant, or put someone up for adoption?”

“Let me check into it and I will call you right back!” Garcia said, hanging up and going right to work.

“Is there anyone here who knew Lynette Hayward about 30 years ago? She would have been 26 to 29, my height, brown hair, and green eyes?” Y/N announced to the whole Police Department.

“I did,” an officer said, standing up from the desk on the other side of the room.

She waved him over, pulling out a chair and asking him to sit.

“Was Lynette ever pregnant?” Y/N asked.

He thought for a moment, licking his lips and harkening all the way back to his 20’s. “There was a summer that no one saw her."

"When was this?" Spencer asked.

"From June to November, not a single person saw her. We thought maybe she was doing summer classes somewhere,” he explained.

“Were there any children dropped off at a fire hall or a hospital that November?” Spencer asked.

“There was a baby left in the park, poor little guy had been left out there in the cold,” he said.

Hotch, Spencer and Y/N all took a deep breath and looked at each other. “That’s him.”

Garcia called back then, “I found 1 baby left abandoned in the park in November of 1979, he was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate, seizures, and later on he was diagnosed with diabetes, Crohn’s disease and Asperger's syndrome.”

“Name and address?” Spencer asked.

“That's the difficult part, he was born, operated on and handed over to the state and cared for by a foster family that named him Jake Alexander Ingrid. At the age of 6, he was adopted by them fully. When he was 12 he dropped out of the public school system due to bullying that left him in the hospital with a broken arm. After that, his trail goes cold.”

“How cold?” Y/N asked.

“If I didn't know better I'd say he was the one missing not Lynette,” Garcia confirmed.

“Does anyone live in Lynette’s house?” Hotch asked.

The sound of Garcia’s typing was all they heard over the phone, “her bills are being paid on time, someone is in her trailer. I’ve sent the address to your phones.”

“Let’s go.”

Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”

He was asleep, startled awake in the bed that used to belong to his birth mother. He cried, overwhelmed with the 3 guns pointed in his face. Hotch sighed, cuffing him and reading him his rights.

“Why are the worst ones always the sadist?” Y/N asked Spencer as they watched forensics tore apart the trailer.

“Sad in what context?”

“His whole life was so fucked up, it sucks. All those women crossed paths with him and he took his fucked up life and ended theirs, as well as their babies,” Y/N couldn’t stop shaking her head as she spoke, disgusted with the whole situation.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, “if we spend all our time wondering why the world is like this we won't have enough time to bring justice to the victims.”

“which is the best outcome we can ask for,” Y/N agreed.

“Dr, Reid, agent Y/L/N?” An officer interrupted their hug and watched them awkwardly pull away from each other quickly.

“Yes?” Spencer answered.

“We found the wombs.”

The worst fucking sentence she had ever heard. “I can’t look at that.” She said, walking away to join JJ and Prentiss standing by the SUV.

“Good job kid,” Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re almost as smart as boy wonder over there.”

“Just call me Mrs, boy wonder then,” she joked.

“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.

Y/N turned back to see Spencer walking out of the trailer, a shade of green spreading across his skin. “Excuse me,” she said walking towards the ambulance that was on standby.

“Dr. Reid looks like he might be sick,” she said, taking an EMT with her towards him.

Sure enough, Spencer leaned over the bushes and hurled before passing out into the EMT��s arms. Morgan and Hotch came running over to him, helping get him into an ambulance.

“What happened?” Morgan asked.

“He took a look at the recovered womb’s the forensic team found,” Y/N explained.

“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.

Y/N rubbed her hand along Spencer’s shoulder, “good catch,” the EMT complimented her as he took Spencer's vitals.

“I know him well.”

“Too well,” Morgan agreed. “You’d think you were cut from the same cloth.”

“No,” she said softly, gripping Spencer’s hand in her own as he started to stir a little. “We’re cosmically connected, made from the same space rock that split during the big bang.”

“I love you,” he whispered, awake the whole time she was speaking.

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased him, “I know, save your strength, you’re still all pasty white.”

“Gross,” Morgan smiled, turning away from the ambulance

chapter 4

Prentiss convinced Y/N and Spencer to take the weekend off in Nevada to go visit their parents. They agreed that it would be nice, seeing as neither of them thought to tell their moms that they met again let alone that they were together.

Y/N walked into the Nursing home first, looking for her mom in her office as Spencer walked in quickly to go find his mother.

“Hey mom,” Y/N smiled as she knocked on her mother's office door.

“Y/N!” She yelled, shocked to see her eldest baby standing in front of her for the first time since last Christmas. “What are you doing here?”

“Remember how I moved?” She started there.

“Yes?”

“Well, my new neighbour ended up being Spencer Reid, and he introduced me to the BAU and I helped them with a case, so they hired me, and now I work for them and we just finished a case in Winnemucca and me and Spencer are dating. He’s here too and we’re taking the weekend off to tell you and Diana,” she had never rambled so fast to her mother before in her life.

“Holy shit?” Her mother was shocked, “this all happened in the last 3 weeks? Is that why you’ve been too busy to text me?”

“I’ve been on 5 cases in the last 3 weeks, I was swamped,” she smiled, her eyes welling with tears.

Her mom walked over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, holding her close. “My baby, this is everything you wanted why are you crying?”

“I haven’t taken a moment to actually understand that this is all real,” she whispered.

Her mother pulled back, looking in her eyes with a stern look. “Is he good to you?”

She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s wonderful.”

“Diana is in the game room, let’s go see them,” she tucked her arm under Y/N’s and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the game room.

Diana stood up as she saw them walk in, “Debbie’s daughter?” She asked.

Spencer nodded with a large smile on his face. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my partner.”

“I know you,” Diana said softly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “You would read to me on Thursdays after Spencer left for CalTech.”

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“I knew you were here as often as you could be, and I felt bad she didn’t have any other children to come see her,” Y/N explained. “I know if my mom was here and my brother couldn’t visit I’d fill in.”

“It was lovely, I still have the book you gave me before you left for the academy,” Diana’s smile was as big and bright as Spencer’s.

They all sat together, sharing stories with each other. It seemed like their mothers enjoyed sharing embarrassing kid stories to make Spencer and Y/N blush back and forth.

Before they knew it, it was 3 pm and visiting hours were coming to an end and Debbie’s shift was about to end as well. “Where are you both staying?” She asked.

“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.

“Nonsense, stay with me and your father!” Debbie insisted.

Y/N shook her head, “we can come to visit for dinner tomorrow, but we need some space.”

“You know how it feels to be in love especially this young Deb, I’m sure you understand,” Diana patted her on the shoulder.

“Go on, have fun. But tomorrow dinner starts at 6:15, Levi and Lizzie also home this weekend,” Debbie smiled, hugging both Spencer and Y/N before Diana.

“Would Diana be able to come to dinner at our place?” Y/N asked.

“I think I can pull some strings,” Debbie agreed, “have a good night tonight guys.”

“We will,” Spencer smiled, taking Y/N’s hand and walking with her to the parking lot.

They both sighed as they sat in their rental car. “That went well,” Y/N said softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you visited my mom?” Spencer asked, holding her hand again.

“I was going to, there’s so much I want to tell you but we haven’t had enough personal time to get through it all, every time we talk lately it’s about murder,” she replied.

“Let's go get a table at a nice restaurant and tell each other everything.”

“I have something to do first, can I drop you off at the hotel and meet you there?” She asked.

“absolutely.”

-—

She drove to her parent's place as fast as she could, they were all just sitting down in the living room when she walked in the door. “Hi sorry I can’t stay I just want to grab a dress from my closet.”

She kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to her bedroom just like she would have after school. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her desk was still in the corner, her bed was made, and her mom now used it for storage. There were boxes, lamps, pillows and a million folded blankets all resting on her bed and scattered along the floor.

She shuffled some things out of the way of her closet door and quickly looked through all the bagged dresses she had left here. Minoring in political science and volunteering with government organizations in college meant she had a dress for every occasion, times the 4 years she was there.

“Cocktail, dinner, black tie, prom, homecoming,” she flicked through them all, “funeral,” she said as she stopped. “Why is this here?”

She pulled out a black dress she wore to a democratic representatives fundraiser, it was an off-the-shoulder, 3/4 length sleeve, plunging neckline, skin-tight dress with a slit to show some leg. It was perfect.

She placed it on the edge of her bed and dug out the black heels that she originally bought to go with the dress. She found a strapless bra in her dresser, and a cute pair of underwear buried at the back of her drawer.

She closed her door and quickly changed, walking across the hall in her heels to fluff her hair in the mirror and figure out how the fuck she was going to do her makeup here.

Just then her brother's wife came walking up the stairs, “Y/N?” She knocked on the bathroom door before coming in.

“Hey Lizzie,” she smiled. “Do I look okay?” She asked.

Lizzie looked her up and down with a shocked look on her face, “yeah what’s the occasion? I didn’t even know you were home?”

“It’s a long story, my boyfriend and I were here on a case and we’re staying for the weekend, you get to meet him tomorrow!” She filled her in as she searched the bathroom drawers for makeup.

“What do you need?” She asked.

“Do you have your makeup kit here? We’re like the same shade right?”

Before she knew it, Lizzie was making her sit on the edge of the tub while she did Y/N’s makeup for her. “Remember when you did my prom makeup?” Lizzie asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You and Levi looked so good together that night.”

“Not as good as you look right now, he’s going to eat you alive,” she hyped Y/N up.

“You think so?” Y/N asked, standing up to take a look in the mirror.

“Absolutely!!!”

She took a deep breath and shook the nerves out, “okay I have to go,” she said running back to her room for her phones, wallet and badge.

“Go get him, SSA Y/L/N,” Lizzie smiled as she watched y/n steadily run down the stairs in heels, clicking on the hardwood as she ran.

“Wait!” Her dad yelled from the table, “don’t I get to see you before you leave?”

She ran into the table room, quickly hugging her father at the head of the table and kissing him on his bald head. “I’m late for my date, I love you, I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said running back towards the front door and to her car.

She was like a mad chicken running around with her head cut off. She took a breather in the car before starting the engine and making her way back downtown.

She left her car out front with the valet, saying she would be back in a minute. She dug her phone out of her wallet and called Spencer. “I’m in the lobby.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She waited by the elevator, she pulled her boobs up into her bra and wiggled the wire till they looked okay, then she straightened her dress out. She never felt this nervous when she wore this dress the last time, she’s never felt this nervous period, actually.

Spencer Reid did something to her that she couldn’t quite describe. But if she had to, she’d say he makes her feel alive.

The elevator dinged and Spencer walked out in one of his best suits. He was looking down at his button as he stepped out not seeing her at first.

She smiled at him, waiting for him to look up. When he did his eyes grew three times their normal size and his mouth dropped. He stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly running his hands down her arms. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Could say the same thing about you Dr. Reid,” Y/N teased as she pulled on his tie.

She pulled him down by his tie and pressed her lips against his. Never before had either of them been a big fan of PDA, but this was an exception.

She pulled back from him and tucked his tie back into his jacket. Smoothing out his sleeves before taking a step back and handing him the keys. “Lead the way doctor.”

He extended his arm to which she wrapped her arm around. He walked her to the front of the lobby, watching as the bellhop held the door for them.

Their car was still there, waiting with the valet who opened the door when he saw her return. She sat on the passenger side, fixing the slit of her dress to not show too much just yet.

Spencer joined her, sitting in the driver's seat he started the car and drove off.

He reached his hand over to place it on her thigh, where it belonged. He gripped her leg and felt down to where her holster was. She saw his eyebrow raise as he looked down, moving the side of her dress to see her gun strapped to her leg.

“Gonna shoot me if I’m not on my best behaviour tonight, agent?” He laughed.

“Nevada is a concealed carry state, and I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Plus I look like this tonight, do you know what the crime rate is in Los Vegas-? Don’t answer that, of course, you do,” she teased him.

“It’s pretty hot,” he complimented her.

“What? The gun or my attitude?”

“The fact that you don’t take shit from anyone, you’re a badass and I never have to worry about you.”

“What if I want you to worry?”

“I’m always going to worry, I just mean you’re not a damsel in distress. I can go into every situation knowing you’re smarter on your feet than anyone on the team, and as long as you’re there we’re coming out alive,” he explained better.

“That’s the best compliment,” she felt bashful all of a sudden. She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I love you, Spencer,” she finally told him.

“I love you too,” he smiled.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it back yet.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant they were going to, returning his focus fully to driving. He pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.

“I knew you’d say it when you were ready, I’m in no rush to hear it,” he leaned over the centre console and kissed her on the lips.

He got out of the car and walked around to open her door, helping her out before extending an arm out for her once more.

He made a reservation while he was alone at the hotel, getting a table in the back away from everyone else. It was a round table with a booth stretching all the way around the table. The back of the chair tall enough to enclose them in their own little world for the time being.

They were at a cute little stake house, one where you got to pick the exact piece of meat you wanted and they did it however you asked. They ordered drinks and enough bread to make the waiter look at them differently.

“Tell me the most random fact about you,” Y/N asked as soon as the waiter left to tell the kitchen their order.

“When my mom’s schizophrenia started getting bad, she thought that the government used dryers to take our socks for DNA and clone us, so whenever one of my socks went missing she freaked out. After that, I started wearing mismatched socks all the time so that that way she would never notice which of the pairs were missing since I never wore them that way anyway.”

She smiled the whole time he talked, absolutely in love with him. He was her everything. “So that’s why I’ve got so many random socks around my house.”

“It’s worse at my apartment,” he smiled again. “Your turn.”

“The first time I ever rode a bike without training wheels was because I stole my neighbour's bike and took off with it down the road,” she laughed.

“Why?”

“I think my mom said I couldn’t take my own training wheels off yet, so I took matters into my own hands.”

“See?” He shook his head lightly. “Badass.”

“When was the last time you were in Vegas?” She asked.

“Earlier this year when we reopened the Riley Jenkins case,” he said softly.

“oh, my mom was telling me about that one! Your mom went off her meds to help remember if your dad was involved right?” Y/N recalled.

He nodded, “do you know what really happened?”

“I have the gist, Lou killed Gary in revenge for Riley.”

“That's not all of it,” he said lightly. “Gary was watching me, and my mom told Lou that the way he looked at me, he might have been the one who hurt Riley. And then she witnessed Lou kill Gary.”

“Holy shit Spence, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Did you know Gary was my neighbour?” ,

“No?”

“Yeah we were 4, my brother was 2 and my mom was pregnant again, and Gary kept taking photos of my brother through the fence. My dad threatened to kill him a few times and then we finally moved across town,” she explained.

“How is it that our lives were so intertwined, and yet it took 20 years for us to actually connect again?” He asked.

“The same thing happened to my parents.”

“What’s their story?” He asked.

She moved around the table to sit closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “My dad is 8 years older than my mom, they met when she was 17 and he was 26 and they became good friends like he was her older brother. They realized years later that my dad delivered newspapers to the town my mom lived in, and he saw her basically grow up playing in the yard. Then his best friend always invited him to his cabin and when he finally went, the lot across from them was my mom's family cabin. They were always so close but never knew each other till they were meant to. And now they’ve been happily married for 30 years.”

“There's an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer explained.

“It took 500 years of coincidences to bring us together,” she said softly. “Which kinda makes the 20 years of admiring you from afar not seem so long.”

“From here on out let’s make every moment count then,” Spencer suggested, “we’ve been barely dating for 3 weeks I’m not going to ask you to marry me right this instant, but I do intend to spend the rest of my life with you in whatever capacity I can. Because I think you’re it for me.”

She could bask in the feeling of her heart fluttering like this for the rest of her life, it was like butterflies but completely calm. True happiness at its finest.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”

He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.

—

Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.

She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.

He was completely silent and still. She was in control.

She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.

“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.

He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.

“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”

“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.

“yes.”

She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.

“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.

“anything,” he said, overly eager.

“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”

“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”

“So you want to?”

Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.

He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.

He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Ground rules?”

“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.

“You really mean anything?”

“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.

He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.

She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.

He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.

She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.

She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.

He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.

He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”

He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.

“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.

He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”

She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.

He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”

He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.

She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.

“Shhh,” he smiled.

He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.

All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.

Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.

She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.

He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.

He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.

“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.

He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.

She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.

She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.

“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.

He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.

“Can you please just fuck me now?”

He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.

He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.

“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.

“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.

He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.

“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.

She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.

“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.

With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.

She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.

Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.

His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.

She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.

“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.

“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.

She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”

He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”

She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.

“I love you,” Spencer smiled.

“I love you, more.”

chapter 5

They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.

Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.

Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.

“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”

“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.

“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.

“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.

The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.

Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.

“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”

“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.

“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”

“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.

They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.

“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.

“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.

And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.

Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.

“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”

“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”

“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”

“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”

“And did you?” Her mom asked.

Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”

“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.

“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.

“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.

She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”

Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.

“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.

“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”

“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.

“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.

“Like what?” Her dad asked.

“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.

“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.

“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.

“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.

“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.

“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.

She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.

Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”

She nodded.

He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”

“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.

“yes.”

“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”

“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.

“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.

He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”

She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”

—

Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.

She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”

“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.

“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”

“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”

“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”

“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”

“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.

She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.

“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.

He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.

“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.

“Got everything?” Spencer asked.

“Yep,” she smiled.

They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.

“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”

And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.

Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”

“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.

“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”

“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.

“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”

“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.

“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”

Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.

9:42pm PST

By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.

“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.

“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.

“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.

“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.

“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.

Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”

“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.

Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”

“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.

“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”

“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”

“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”

“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”

“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”

Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”

“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”

“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.

“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.

“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”

11:56pm

“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.

“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”

Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”

“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.

“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.

“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”

“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.

“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”

“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.

“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”

“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”

“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”

“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”

“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.

“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.

—

On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.

There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.

JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”

The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.

Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“

“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.

“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.

“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.

“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.

“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.

Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.

JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”

“Any movement in 612?”

“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”

“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.

“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.

“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.

“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.

“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.

“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.

Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.

“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”

“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”

“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.

“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”

“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”

“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.

One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.

First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.

“Crystal.”

“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”

Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.

The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.

“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.

Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.

A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.

“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.

Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”

“Bomb?” The man questioned.

“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.

“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.

Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”

“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.

“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.

“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.

—

Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.

She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.

“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.

“Yep.” He hung up.

She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.

“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.

She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.

“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.

“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.

Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.

“I love you,” she reminded him.

“I love you, more.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #hypothetically

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rusalkahystoria · 2 years

Text

Why Malleus would suck as a boyfriend.

I love Malleus, he’s my favorite twst character. Poor @tri3tri has been the victim of my late-night ramblings regarding Malleus. And as much as I love him and reading romance fanfiction, I can’t help but think he would be an awful boyfriend. And that’s not even getting into Yan territory.

Before reading this, I recommend reading my history & high fantasy interpretation of Fae Age and Maturity. As always remember that this is me interpreting canon and influencing it by royal history, myths, and high fantasy. In this case, I am pulling inspiration from more “realistic” kinds of fantasy works and European history influences.

As always, this is me worldbuilding around TW, not actual canon.

If you didn’t read my other essay, this is a quick recap of some of my interpretations:

· I think Malleus while probably is considered a teenager or young adult by fae standards, mentally he’s closer to Crowley than to Ace.

· The Valley of Thorns is probably stuck on medieval hell, so a lot of their views are probably not as advanced or modern as the rest of TW or our world.

To make this analysis work, we are adding these assumptions:

· Potential S/O is magicless human that can possibly get pregnant

· Mal has the equipment to get humans pregnant because it’s implied he was born of a fricking egg.

Marrying for love:

Marrying for love, just as our current views regarding childhood, is to a relatively modern concept we have thanks to thinkers of the mid 18th century and early 19th century. This was in part thanks to the French and American revolutions promoting ideas that we as individuals should seek our own happiness. Before that, people married for political, social, or economic reasons. Marriage was more of a transactional endeavor than a romantic one. If you were some random girl, you married for your family’s wellbeing not because you fell in love with Romeo. Royalty was even more prone to this kind of marriage because there was more at stake, if you fell in love with your husband or wife, well, you were not the norm.

Actually, “polygamy” was the norm for a lot of European (Catholic!) Kings, it was so common to have their mistress live alongside their wife. Some mistresses even had more power than the actual queen. For the French, there was even a royal title and position for it: Maîtresse-en-titre. Some were so influential, like Madame de Pompadour, that you could not get an audience with the king if she didn’t review your case first. Some French mistresses even befriended their queens, like Madame de Pompadour that became the most honored lady in waiting of the queen. These mistresses were not common prostitutes, they were beloved paramours that were educated and cultured. Some of them were more well-versed in political affairs than most nobles.

So, taking all this into account, and that Mal is the heir to a kingdom stuck in Medieval Hell, we could argue that Mal is not going to be marrying for love. He’s probably end up marrying a fae princess or duchess for political gain, so you, magicless human, the most that could probably ask for is to become his mistress. Could you live with the idea that’s inevitable that you would someday see him marry someone else? Could you accept the fact that he will constantly bed and get pregnant with someone that it’s not you? Potential S/O comes from a society that probably pushed the ideals of monogamy and romantic love down their throats for their whole life. Coming to terms that you will never be the official spouse and that you will have to share him with someone else, even if you are the loved one, is quite hard.

Fae probably looks down on humans:

Even if Mal seems quite lax around humans, it’s kind of easy to assume that Fae probably look down on humans, even wizards down on magicless people, remember how a lot of characters insulted MC because of their lack of magic. So, supposing that you accept what little Malleus can offer you, being a magicless human at a fae court is probably quite hard. Imagine the King (or prince) bringing back his mistress, and they are a magicless human. One of the most influential positions at court just got snatched by some magicless nobody, so it’s normal to assume the court would be out for blood. S/O would be lucky if they just got talked behind their back and not put on a hit list because opening a position is quite easy of you get rid of the person occupying it, ask Kalim. So you either hope you are able to bring to court Grimm and Adeuce or you are going to get insolated and in danger real quick.

Of heirs and succession:

Do you want kids? Because you are probably not going to get them from Malleus. Sure, in history there has been a lot of royal bastards that get to have positions at court, their parents setting them up with other royals, and pretty much living a pleasant life. But also royal bastards then to be seen as a threat to the line of succession, and if you add that that they are a the kid from a human mistress. You are probably setting those kids to a life of scrutiny and being looked down for being half-human. Mal, and probably Lilia, would be super careful with the topic, to avoid any unpleasant situations.

Malleus as a whole:

Mal, as a lot of good character analyses that are floating around pointed out, is not a soft boy nor is he a monster. If he fell in love with someone, he probably will be as devoted as his very peculiar circumstances allow him. Probably will see S/O as if they hang the stars and the moon, but at the same time, he’s also explosive, petty, and emotionally constipated. He will probably a lot of time will not be able to give you what you need or want. Love does not change people or make their bad characteristics disappear. Moreover, you will also have to make peace with the idea, that even if he loves you, you will not be in his top priority list. The kingdom comes first, then his children, then the queen, after her the court, and then probably you.

Endnotes:

Mal probably will not be prince charming even if he’s devoted to his S/O. His circumstances and his commitment to his kingdom will come always first, so probably the most that he can offer is a position of a beloved mistress. So, could your MC handle being a mistress? It will probably be a sad and lonely life, where you end up sacrificing more of you than you actually get in return, and that my dears, gets old super-fast. There’s also the issue of the power imbalance that’s pretty much all over in a relationship like that, but this is getting too long, so if it’s more interesting I could write a second part to this. But hey, even if it’s kind of depressing, this whole situation gives a lot for historical drama/romance. An

Is anyone reading this? Would you be interested in more twst worldbuilding based on history and mythology? I could go for hours about this. My ask box is open so if anyone has any questions or requests you are always welcome to use it.

#twst worldbuilding #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

I was listening to Dust to Dust by The Civil Wars and it came to my mind that this song would be a great source of inspiration for a headcanon for Modern!Laszlo Kreizler. What do you think?

What me? Crying my eyes out??? How did you know?

The night was happy and light, the chorus of laughter that bursted around him made his lips twitch instinctively into a tensed smile.

A sense of emptiness pervading him, a sense of loss even though in the happiest of times: the case was solved, the disappeared child was back.

The joyous parents kissing those puffy cheeks, Sara sipping her wine and darting engaging looks at John. Laszlo scratched his cheek lightly as he observed them, he didn’t need all those degrees to see what was bare in front of his eyes. His soft scratching was a mix between a show of tension and a reassurance to himself.

After all that running around, fear of finding the corpse of a child, after all that begging and researching and striving.

Then why happiness didn’t hit him? Why there was no relief?

He knew the truth, but the reality of things was that he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“Already going away?” John asked him as he picked up his coat from the chair where he abandoned it.

“Yes, I have an early round of appointments tomorrow”

“We couldn’t have done it without your insight” John insisted. To celebrate in the conference room of the police station just showed how much the happy ending of such a potential tragedy struck everyone.

Laszlo’s eyes darted slowly over the happy family in the corner, the father holding the baby daughter kissing her cheeks as the mother kept a steady hand on her small back, her smile was everything that a sight should be graced of: fullness, undivided love and tenderness.

“I know” Laszlo said only making John huff and chuckle joking that he is humble as always. Laszlo only smiled holding the coat under his arm as he gave him a nod and left.

Only once he was out he realised he came in John’s car, so he resumed to walk his way home, he needed some fresh air.

He never regretted his divorce, he was dragging a dead horse. His ex wife hated the guts of him and he never realised how much he didn’t trust her until the time to get parted came. Until he saw how many times he closed, how many times he felt that she was there to hurt him and, ultimately, she did when the right time came.

He brought it upon himself, that’s what he kept saying.

He tried, but not hard enough, he offered his heart but her pain was so vivid back then that he wondered did he ever gave it all? Or maybe he just believed it, he believed to have done it.

The happy smile of the woman that just had her baby back kept hunting him, the unfiltered happiness they felt caused him a primal form of envy that he refused to acknowledge to himself.

The soft tug on his back woke him from his trail of thoughts. Hand pulling his shirt shooting him back to reality.

A lone man walking home with the damn expensive watch he wore, any other person would have been worried.

And yet, when he turned around and saw you he was the worried one, like you just pointed a gun at him. He opened his mouth lightly but didn’t speak up.

“John told me you left, I hoped to catch up on you”

The way you spoke, the way you smiled, the little huffing in your breath showing you run after him. This is so wrong. He kept telling himself.

He just, he didn’t deserve this, the way you looked at him.

You’re just good at crushing anyone else Laszlo.

The words of his ex engraved onto his mind more than he would ever admit.

“I was just going home”

“Are you close?”

“Yes”

You looked at him with a soft sigh veiled by a smile, like you were dealing with some stubborn child.

“May I walk with you?”

“If you like”

“I do”

He titled his head down looking up at your frame, the way you looked at him teasing something inside him, something that was scratching, a loud white noise in the back of his head that you made audible.

He moved on side as you positioned yourself on his right.

You didn’t speak as you just walked with him, he didn’t talk either.

A shiver run through him, a sense of nervousness pervading him as his street got nearer after every step.

“You should go home, I mean, it is already late, I could call you a taxi”

“Do you really want to get rid of me, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer, because the answer was yes.

He needed to keep you far from him, since he met you your presence was both joy and pain to his eyes.

You sparked a new light, you opened his mind, got his interest. Hearing you talk, watching you move, even the smallest quirks and the little pet peeves of you. Everything was entertaining to him. He felt this need, the need to get under your skin, both mentally and physically. He wondered how it is to blend against your body, to kiss your lips, to taste your tears and your skin. He wondered if you cry while watching sad films, if you have childhood fears, if you talk in your sleep. He wondered if you ever found him attractive, if you’d refrain from his touch, if your kisses begin slow or passionate.

The truth was that he was the one not ready for you, he was the one afraid to let you touch him, to be bare with someone once again.

“I live here” He said noticing the apartments building standing on his left.

You looked up at it and smirked as it was an old building, one of those that survived after hundreds of restyling and it ket this old beginning of 1900 kind of feeling.

“Can I come in?”

“You’re shameless” he said as he indeed was admiring your persistence.

“Also that”

He looked at you for a moment, you didn’t blink away, not even for a second.

Just leave, please, just go away, stay with me, no go, better if you go.

He kept debating inside himself as you waited silently.

“I can’t do this”

You leaned your head on side at his words, you waited for him to explain himself.

“This thing, I mean, I can’t really get anyone in my apartment, alright? It is still a work in progress”

“You have done fooling me around with your excuses Laszlo” you said to him “you can’t take decisions for me and you won’t”

“I am not good at this, I will just hurt you, I am good at the beginnings but I just fail with time, I get sloppy, I won’t be a good choice on the long run”

“Laszlo” you interrupted his rambling as he stared at you. His eyes were begging you, begging you not to force him into this.

“Stop it now” you took a step forward as the space between you two closed abruptly, he felt the warmth radiating from you, the way your eyes shone for him, a sense of being lost and found taking over him, the unreasonable fear of something happening at that ungodly hour, like the building falling, anything, something that will ruin this moment.

“Aren’t you tired?”

You asked it so simply and yet he felt like he was the child that got lost in the night and was now being found again.

He parted his lips, eyes erratically escaping yours as he looked for any word, any excuse, any reason.

“Terribly”

He just said it as your hand gently raised, it was a slow movement like you were about to touch some frightened animal.

His eyes were fixed onto yours as your fingertips traced his cheek and up his temple. Your hand was a little cold against his skin, yet warm into your intentions. He leaned forward slowly pressing his forehead against yours.

“I can’t do this to you”

You smiled as your hand gently moved down his neck giving him a soft caress.

“You have been lonely for too long” you whispered.

He opened his eyes slowly, dark lids blinking into yours as his jaw tightened, a little redness forming as he tried to conceal the emotions running through him.

“Don’t let me hurt you”

“You won’t”

“I will”

“Then I’ll be there” you just said “I’ll be there for you, for us”

He shivered closing the space between the two of you with a sealing kiss, the push that got through him, like his whole body rebelled his mind, made him crush you against the heavy bricks of the entrance.

You could almost sense the immediate regret he felt, but you tugged him in, you pulled him closer as your lips sweetened the kiss from its initial desperation.

There was no pain in what it was about to begin and you wanted him to feel it.

You had no fear, no fear of the empty dark spaces of his mind, of the loneliness of his soul or the searing pain of his past.

You watched him consume himself for too long.

The time of excuses was over, and as your hands cupped his cheeks and whispered softly to him he could almost feel the abrupt silence of his mind after the loud noise of you tearing down his first defence wall fainted into that kiss.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

#laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #modern!laszlokreizler #modern!laszlo kreizler #the alienist au #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler headcanons

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thewangshuinn · 3 years

Note

May I request platonic Diona big sister relationship? Perhaps reader helping her with drinks and they both decide to sabotage Diluc's wine but Diluc catches them? This is dumb sorry lol

A/N: hey anon how does it feel to be the most inspiring person here I love this sm. I would also like to make clear I have never seen a wine cellar in my life please just go with me on this. Also I'm so sorry about the long wait! I've been busy and unmotivated.

Diluc shampoo commercial when?

Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you enjoy!

Exclusive Specialty

Pairing: PLATONIC Diona x reader

Warnings: none really, a few alcohol mentions? Non-proofread we die like kazuha's friend

Diona Kätzlein was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

This was nothing new to anyone who visited the Cat’s Tail- the feisty little bartender was clear about her hatred of alcohol, and those who consume it, since the beginning.

And as a part of the wait staff, you got to hear her remarks more than most tavern-goers in Mondstadt.

It is in this way, that you had come to be close to her. You’d immediately taken a liking to the small child from Springvale who’d wormed her way into the patrons’ hearts, despite her hatred to be called cute. You were one of the few who were willing to listen to what she said- you let her ramble on and on about everything she thought because no one seemed to take her seriously.

After all, she was just a kid who ran away from home. She was just a child, alone in a big city with dreams she was too small to reach.

Diona, though she’d never say it, adored you. Her father didn’t listen to her anymore- he barely did anything with her, really. No one else wanted to hear what she had to say. They’d laugh and they’d pat her head and tell her she’s adorable and to go back to her mixing now.

But you were different.

You got supplies that she asked for, and persuaded Margaret to give her free reign. You tried her drinks when she asked, and always acted like you despised them.

Even if you didn’t.

You offered suggestions and she taught you how to help her. The two of you would stay up late with mugs of warm milk against Mond’s chilly nights, and she would gleefully mix horrid ingredients together as you watched over her shoulder and built off of what she gave you.

You would have interesting talks, then. You could mention something offhandedly, and she would ask about it.

You’ve exchanged stories and songs, in typical fashion for citizens of the Jewel of the North. She knew every detail about you, and offered you every detail about her in exchange.

But it was also within these late-night meetings that the two of you schemed. Whether it was simply how to make it through the next day or sneak out during festivals to celebrate, your plans were generally hazy and laced with sleepiness.

That is to say, they were never very good.

You didn’t know that, though, which is why you made a very daunting proposal one night.

“Why don’t we just sabotage the Dawn Winery? Wouldn’t that get rid of the most successful wine tycoon in Mondstadt?”

Diona shook her head, punctuating the motion with a yawn. “I’ll never step paw in the Dawn Winery! I can’t deal with anyone or anything so ridiculous!”

“...But if we destroy the winery, we destroy the wine industry. The ends justify the means.” You shrugged.

She appeared to mull over this for a bit.

Silence stretched between the two of you for a moment.

And then she positively lit up. “Let’s go! Let’s go right now!”

Dragging you out the door, the little bartender ran into the night.

You’d planned everything out on the way there. Diona had gathered a ton of ingredients on the way, and was also to be responsible for getting inside. She was a great climber and a silent crawler, and one of the bedrooms on the third floor left the window open for fresh air.

Since the wine cellar was attached to the house and you were both exhausted, it seemed like the best bet.

Except that she landed on the bed.

You didn’t know it, and she scurried off too quickly to see if there had been anything in that bed in the first place.

Your job was to keep watch outside the wine cellar until Diona opened the door for you, in case any guards, servants, or otherwise restless inhabitants came with suspicions.

You smirked to yourself when Diona opened the door. “For the greatest tycoon in Mond, someone isn’t too worried about security.”

Diona giggled triumphantly in response, dragging you inside.

And then you stopped short, tugging the child’s hand so that she was behind you.

Standing before both of you, looking annoyed and sleep-deprived, was Master Diluc Ragvindr.

The owner of the Dawn Winery.

You took an unconscious step back, but Diona had stepped before you into a fighting stance.

Both of you anticipated an attack.

But Diluc just looked annoyed at being woken up. He dragged a weary hand over his face, highlighting just how luxurious his unbound red hair was.

“Just go.”

His voice was soft and tired, but it was not unthreatening.

“Leave. And don’t come back.”

You heeded his words immediately, eyes only on his pyro vision, and dragged a hissing and kicking Diona away.

Perhaps you can take down the wine industry some other day. For now, you were just glad your little companion was safe.

#requests #thank you so much anon!#diona genshin impact #diona kätzlein #platonic diona x reader #genshin impact x reader #diona #genshin impact #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #oneshot

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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More Amazing People I Want to Share This With :)

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #reid fanfiction

135 notes · View notes

spacedikut · 4 years

Text

starstruck ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “Can I request some age gap Spencer x reader. Maybe he’s nervous about approaching her for a relationship bc she’s younger, but he’s so goofy for her it’s he’s in love obvious. Pretty pls 🥺💕” 5222 words

a/n: i didn’t specify ages cause i wasn’t sure what people would be comfortable with so i just mentioned an age gap and leave the rest up to you!! i would happily date someone twice my age but i also have daddy issues so :)

masterlist

The day has finally arrived.

Mollie can call you a nerd all she wants, but you know the second she lays eyes on Derek Morgan or Emily Prentiss she’ll change her tune.

This event has been in the university’s calendar since the beginning of the semester. At least two members of the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit were promised to give a talk about their department, even taking you through a solved case like an interactive documentary, to encourage students to consider joining the academy post-graduation. There was whispers they’d even stick around after to answer some questions.

Your other friend, Jen, the one that understands your excitement, wrote your names down for tickets immediately. You’ve had a countdown on your phone ever since.

“They’ve announced a last-minute guest,” She beams, just as giddy as you. You’re wasting time at the coffee house near the auditorium, waiting for Mollie to arrive.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

You almost drop your cookie in shock and stare at her, pupils blown.

“You’re a big fan?” She smirks.

As nonchalantly as you can, you lean back in your chair, “I’m a fan of his work, yes.”

“Oh, his work?”

“Don’t start.”

“I bet you love his work.”

“He’s well-versed and his papers are super interesting-“

“His papers are super interesting-“

“You are a child.”

Just then, Mollie appears, checking her watch. You wish you could kiss her in thanks for saving you from the teasing that would likely never end. “We’re gonna be late for your morbid seminar if you two don’t stop bickering.”

Jen downs the rest of her drink, you shove the last of the cookie in your mouth. Mollie watches your excitement in amusement – your heart starts pumping, whole body buzzing, the same nervousness you felt when you were a preteen right before your first ever One Direction concert. It’s the kind of nervousness that makes your palms sweaty.

Is it evolution or devolution to go from sweating over One Direction to sweating over FBI profilers?

+++

The seminar goes on for an hour, including the questions people ask throughout. It’s everything you could’ve asked for, entertaining and so, so informative and although you weren’t considering joining the FBI before, suddenly it’s all you can think about. Guest speakers have that affect, don’t they? They make you wonder if you should drastically change everything you’ve been planning.

Even Mollie, who you had to threaten to tag along, ended up enjoying herself. “Maybe I learnt a thing or two,” She’d said, rolling her eyes playfully.

You and your friends are some of the last to leave. There’s quite the bustling outside, which you assume is just post-seminar chatter, but you and Jen falter in your steps when you see the exact profilers that had been onstage several minutes ago in front of you, happily interacting and talking to fellow students.

“Oh, man,” Jen whispers, her and Mollie making eye contact across you. “I have to see if I can talk to Emily.”

Mollie encourages her with a frantic, “Go! Go!” while you’re rooted in place. Mollie jabs you with a pointed nail, “You in there, Y/N? I’m sure you have loads of questions for them-“

You stutter and shake your head, “N-no. I’m good. You can try and hit on Derek, if you want.”

You give a half-attempt at a smile, barely lifting the corners of your lips. Mollie recognises that look. She wants to stay with you, check you’re not too overwhelmed, but you shoo her away and send her towards Derek. You breathe a sigh of relief – you’ve been friends with her long enough that she knows when you need space.

There’s something about seeing people you admire so abruptly that totally throws you for a loop. All you had prepared for was seeing them from afar and subsequently talking about it forever, but nothing beyond that. In some circumstances, it’d be a pleasant surprise, but for someone that struggles around strangers and especially around people as admirable as profilers, you are not mentally prepared for this and have therefore shut down.

But then you see him.

He’s shuffling in place in the corner of the room, close to a large potted plant like it’s his only friend. He’s nibbling his lip as his eyes flutter around, never staying somewhere for longer than a second, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Why is no one talking to him? He’s Spencer Reid.

There’s a couple of people surrounding Emily, fully entranced by whatever story she’s relaying, another few people around Derek, chortling at a joke he just made. Spencer glances between them and their audiences, and you can’t help but wonder why he isn’t right next to them, chatting away, too.

Does he not want to talk to anyone?

You should talk to him.

No. He probably wants to be alone.

Or what if he doesn’t and no one else is talking to him which means you can have a one-on-one conversation? What about that?

Are you insane?

…

You have to talk to him.

Before you can change your mind, you’re approaching him with a tight grip on the handle of your bag, pushing it higher up your shoulder. He spots you and makes eye contact just as you stop in front of him, and you notice he momentarily tightens his grip on his satchel.

Was this a bad idea?

“Hi,” You breathe, “I’m Y/N. A big fan.”

His eyes widen a fraction, which you don’t understand because why else would you be here, but he smiles nonetheless, “Hi, I’m, uh, Spencer Reid.”

“I know.”

“Yes, you know. That makes sense, because you were in the seminar. I saw you.”

Now you’re shocked. For as long as you can remember you never sit in the centre of a room, where most attention seems to go, so how did he-

“I-I always scan the room I’m in its.. it’s not a creepy thing, I swear. I’m not creepy.”

A laugh escapes you at that, making him visibly relax. “I don’t think you’re creepy. There was just.. a lot of people in there, so I’m surprised you remember my face.” You shrug.

I couldn’t forget such a beautiful face.

You don’t know what happens, but Spencer suddenly tenses up. His back straightens and he looks alarm, stiff.

Did he just think that? What.. why did he think that?

You wonder if you’ve said something wrong, so you try to change the topic.

“I-I have a question, if you don’t mind answering.”

Spencer nods with an of course, and when the question rolls off your tongue, his mind is still reeling from subconsciously calling you beautiful in his head. It’s not untrue, but it feels.. inappropriate. He doesn’t know why. But you are beautiful.

As he scans your face, now much closer than in the auditorium, he realises yeah, you are incredibly beautiful.

You wave a hand in front of his face, “Doctor Reid?”

“Sorry, yes, sorry. What are you studying?”

There’s a light in your eyes that Spencer recognises when you say, “Psychology.”

“Thought so.”

“You probably talk to a lot of psychology students. I-um. I almost went to Caltech,” Spencer raises an eyebrow, "After I read your dissertation, it really inspired me to look into it – your dissertation is incredible, by the way.”

Spencer smiles bashfully, a futile attempt to not allow the grin to overtake his face, and thanks you, “I appreciate it. Actually, I was sixteen when I wrote it.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Your eyes widen, “You’re insane! You’re amazing!”

The praise bursts from you, and his blushing face makes you oddly proud. On the other hand, Spencer feels like you’ve set him alight, his blood pumping loudly in his ears, as he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your smile.

He desperately needs to change the topic.

“To answer your question…”

Derek notices you two interacting across the room. Mollie sees him looking and hums, “Oh, that’s Y/N, my best friend. She really likes Spencer.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “Looks like he really likes her.”

“Don’t tell her that. She’ll collapse.”

They both watch you for a second, Spencer flailing his arms as he explains, you eagerly adding to his rambling, asking a question here and exclaiming some kind of encouragement there. It’s sweet, Derek thinks.

“Hey..” Mollie begins, a scheming look in her eye, “We’re planning to hang out in the campus bar later. It’s open to all and the drinks are cheap. If you and Emily happen to find yourselves looking for something to do and you drag Spencer along.. I’m sure Y/N would like it.”

“I like the way you think,” Derek says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

+++

“She’s getting hit on. Again.” You giggle, gesturing for Jen to turn around and witness Mollie get your drinks paid for by a random guy.

She’s always been a people person – it’s saved you hundreds on nights out.

All Jen does is glance over her shoulder, scoff, then turn her sceptical eyes to you.

“I saw you and Spencer Reid.” She says, twinkling eyes. She’s trying not to look smug.

“I almost proposed to him.” You joke, taking your drink from Mollie with a mumbled thanks.

“Oh, I bet you did,” She laughs, “You two looked sooo good together.”

“Alright,” You slide a shot to each girl, “I know you’re making fun of me, but I’m taking that compliment and cherishing it. Spencer Reid is cute, what of it?!”

You clink the shot glasses with your friends and down them, all wincing at the taste and giggling at Jen when she takes a gulp of her cocktail to wash away the taste of straight vodka.

“How did talking to Derek and Emily go?”

And then Jen starts chattering away.

You miss the bar door opening behind you, But Mollie notices. She’s been watching the door since they got here, conveniently choosing the table with the best view, just in case some profilers decided to stop by.

Derek catches Mollie’s eye and winks.

“Well I never,” Mollie fakes shock, “Look who just walked through the doors.”

You turn and choke on your drink. Emily and Derek look relax, like they’re home, but Spencer?

He looks just like he did earlier: like there’s a million places he’d rather be.

He’s lost the blazer he was wearing earlier, leaving him in a fitted purple shirt with a matching tie. With the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you can see his firm hands and the silver watch that rests on his wrist – is it possible for a watch to be sexy? Or maybe it’s just cause he’s sexy?

That shot must be getting to you.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You hiss, a sharp whisper piercing the air as you turn and (terribly) try to hide your face.

But Spencer’s seen you. He spotted you the moment they came in – he recognised your clothes and your hair – and the second he did he turned right back around to exit the bar. Derek’s arm stopped him at his chest, like he does to unsubs, forcefully turning him around and laughing when Spencer tensed up.

“What, Reid? Scared of a pretty girl?” Derek teases, much like he’d been doing since he spoke to you earlier.

“I am scared of college girls, yes. Last time I was in a college bar I was twelve and downed shots of apple juice.”

“What?!” Both Emily and Derek stop short, looks of disbelief at the revelation. “You’ve never mentioned that.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We,” Derek places his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, directing him to your table, “Are just gonna have a few drinks and talk to a few people, and then you’re gonna explain that apple juice story in explicit detail- hey ladies!”

Jen and Mollie look overjoyed at the new company, while you stare rigidly with distinctive what the fuck eyes.

“Would you mind if we joined you?” Emily asks, with a sparkling grin that no one could say no to.

“Of course not,” Jen grins, like it’s the most obvious answer.

The empty seat next to you is taken by Spencer (Derek discreetly shoves him) but right before he’s firmly placed on the stool, Emily calls out, “Spence, why don’t you get us some drinks? You still owe us after you lost that game of gin..”

“I didn’t lose.” Spencer huffs indignantly, “You cheated.”

Despite his grunts, he stands to make his way to the bar, but not before-

“Y/N!” Mollie beams, “It’s your turn to get the round, if you’d be so kind.”

You know that look on her face. You hate her, you realise, but you also love her because being alone with Spencer sends a thrill through you.

Alone with Spencer. What the hell are you supposed to say to him?

You follow him to the bar. He leans against it with an awkward smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey.”

“It’s uh.. it’s been a long time since we’ve seen eachother.” It’s a half attempt at a joke, followed by instant regret. But then you giggle and everything feels right in the world, even Spencer’s sucky joke.

“It has been a while, Doctor Reid.” You say. The bartender approaches, takes your orders, then you turn to Spencer, “What brings you to a college bar, of all places?”

“Well,” Spencer glances over your shoulder to your table. He makes eye contact with every single person there, all watching you two interact, and they all sharply turn and try to play it off like they’ve been talking casually. Spencer’s brows furrow a little. “Derek said the drinks are cheap and our hotel is only a couple blocks away. I don’t know, maybe Derek likes college girls.”

You laugh again, and Spencer has to take a second to realise you’re not laughing at him but at what he said about Derek. “Yeah, Derek seems like a real ladies man.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Spencer grins, “We once timed him to see how long it would take to get a girls number and he did it in five minutes. And he said he was having a bad day.”

The drinks are placed in front of you. Neither of you notice.

You unconsciously lean closer, saying, “Have you timed it to see how long it takes for a girl to approach him? That’s gotta be, like, maybe ten minutes?”

“Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

“Well damn. Has he always been so…” A hand gestures in the air, looking for the word.

“Promiscuous?”

“I was gonna say free.”

“Free?” Spencer giggles, “That’s very nice of you.”

You shrug, “I don’t judge.” Spencer agrees, and it slips out, “What about you?”

You wish you could shove the words back in your mouth. Even more so when his expression changes. You can’t entirely make out what it is, but even in the dimly lit bar you can see the flush of heat that spreads through his cheeks to his ears.

“Are you asking me if I’m free with the ladies?” He murmurs, suppressing a grin.

You give an awkward laugh, wondering if you’ve overstepped a boundary, “Yeah. But that’s kinda weird to ask, so-“

“I’m so popular with the ladies it puts Derek to shame.”

You can’t hide your surprise. “What? Really?”

Spencer caves. “No. Is it that hard to believe I’m a ladies man?”

“Compared to Derek? Yes.”

Spencer scoffs.

+++

“As adorable as they are, it’s been thirty minutes.” Emily sighs. “I want my drink.”

“They’re bonding,” Jen sends a wistful look, “I’m so proud.”

“I’m guessing Y/N isn’t the most social either?” Derek asks, proudly watching you interact.

“She’s the best, just a little shy sometimes.” She smiles at you, even though you can’t see, “She’s an idiot, but our idiot, you know?”

Both Emily and Derek laugh airily, nodding with a, “Yeah, we know.”

At once, three phones vibrate throughout the bar – Emily, Derek and Spencer. They’re instantly filled with disappointment; Derek can’t watch Spencer attempt to flirt with a girl he’s obviously interested in, Emily still hasn’t got a drink, and Spencer has to leave you and he can’t think of anything worse.

He’s clearly hesitant when he looks at his phone. How does he say goodbye? Does he ask for your number? Would that be weird? That would be weird.

“Uhh…”

You channel every ounce of liquid courage you have in your body and offer, “Would it be weird if I gave you my number? Just.. for anything. Anything at all.”

Spencer nods, a gentle look in his eyes and a smile on his face, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You mumble an alright, accepting Spencer’s phone and creating a new contact for yourself.

Please text me. You think. Please text me.

+++

He doesn’t text.

It’s been a week. A week. You know how cases are, some take longer than others and some are solved in literal hours, but it’s been a week, Spencer goddamn Reid, so why haven’t you texted me.

That’s when the doubt creeps in. Your friends keep telling you he’ll text, that he’s just busy (“He’s an FBI agent, Y/N. If you start dating you’re gonna have to get used to lapses in contact.” To which you’re too distracted choking at the mention of you two dating), but you can’t help but wonder if he took your number simply so he could leave quicker. He had a case to get to, after all. He had people to save.

Now you feel guilty. You forced your number on him, didn’t you? Oh God, he hates you. He hates you and you forced your number on him and he hasn’t texted you because he’s filing a restraining order against you because he hates you.

Mollie tells you you need a nap.

+++

Spencer spends the time on the jet back from the case staring at your number. He has it memorised, of course, and has had it memorised from the first time he read it, of course, but he can’t bring himself to do anything with it.

All he’s done is change your contact picture from the standard first letter of your name to a cute picture of a frog Garcia sent him. It reminds him of you.

Derek lowers his headphones, “You texted her yet, Pretty Boy?”

“Huh? Uh, no. I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer shrugs, locking his phone and placing it face down. “I don’t think anything would come from it.”

“Kid,” Derek leans forward, eyebrows furrowed, “You two talked for well over thirty minutes in the middle of a college bar about God knows what. Maybe I’m easy to impress, but that seemed pretty special to me.”

“How is talking in a college bar worth anything?”

“Because you’re Reid, who, most of the time, has to be physically dragged into a bar. You hate talking to strangers about anything other than work. Y/N? A stranger. What did you two talk about?”

“We talked about you a little.”

“Uhuh. About how good I am at my job?”

“God, no,” Spencer scrunches his nose, “We talked about your charm with the ladies.”

Derek falls back in his chair and scoffs, “I’m flattered, but that doesn’t sound like work-talk to me. So you’re comfortable with her. I saw you laughing, so she makes you laugh, too. Sounds pretty great to me.”

Spencer stares. Derek’s right, but..

“So what is it, Reid?”

Spencer licks his lips. “Do you think she’s too young for me?”

Derek rarely looks taken aback, but he does now, “Too young?”

“She’s in college. I’m-I’m-“

“A legal adult. As is she.”

Spencer slumps. “A 2014 Current Population Survey found the average difference for a heterosexual couple is two-point-three years, with the man older than the woman. Even if you double that, that’s still less than me and Y/N-“

“Four years isn’t a lot, Spence,”

“You just.. you don’t think it’s weird?”

“No. Do you?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Derek’s conviction gives Spencer some reassurance, but he can’t help himself when he thinks that.. maybe.. you’ll find him boring. Most people seem to, with all his statistics and figures and facts, but with the added element of you living it up at college.. how could he compete?

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Reid. You haven’t even texted her, and you’re already worrying about stuff like age gaps?” Derek crosses his hands and looks at Spencer with determination, “She gave you her number. She initiated it. She knows who you are, so she knows how old you are and it doesn’t seem to make her uncomfortable. So, why should it make you?”

Spencer just grunts.

“Are you worried people will say things?”

“I guess.”

“People always say things. You know that better than anyone. So screw ‘em.”

Spencer feels a smile creep onto his face.

And Derek relaxes. He’s planted the seeds, that Spencer is fretting over nothing, now all he’s got to do is wait for Spencer to let it sink in and allow the flowers to bloom and, next thing you know, Spencer’s gonna have himself the perfect girlfriend.

And Derek will take too much credit for it.

+++

“Heeeeeeeeey my precious Doctor…”

Garcia looks like her hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Spencer’s back straightens. “What did you do?”

She looks embarrassed, fiddling with the fluffy pen in her hand. She smiles awkwardly. “Derek may have told me about a pretty little college student that captured your heart, and then he told me you also haven’t texted her yet, so I did a little digging and…”

“You cyber-stalked Y/N?” Emily asks, casually. JJ seems unphased at the discussion. Does everyone in the office know about you?

“I did. I’m guilty. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She’s speaking a mile a minute.

Emily spares Spencer a glance, “Did you find anything?”

“Well…”

Concern fills Spencer. “Did something happen?”

“I just found some stuff she’d probably only tell a close friend and I feel really bad about it.” Her shoulders are by her ears as she tries to fold in on herself out of guilt, “But other than that she’s a genuinely sweet girl who volunteers at pet shelters and the college library in her free time and we have really similar music tastes so I think we’d make great friends.”

They all look to Spencer, waiting for his reaction. What? Is he supposed to be surprised that you’re the epitome of perfect? He’s not. He studied you the entire time you spoke.

“She’s also written several incredible papers on child development that I think are revolutionary and I totally emailed them to you because I think you should read them. She’s also a genius.”

Spencer’s hand twitches. He ignores the sudden need to check his email.

It’s silent as they just stare at him. He doesn’t say anything and tries not to react, but he does. They notice how his eyes flicker to his phone, how his leg fidgets, the longing in his eyes.

Emily brushes her hair back calmly and asks, “Hey, Pen, when does Y/N work at the college library?”

Penelope doesn’t catch on at first, casually replying, “Oh, basically every day from five pm onwards. They’re a twenty-four hour library and she combines working and studying.” When she sees Emily pointedly look at Spencer, she goes ohhh.

“Good to know,” Emily nods, “Good to know.”

+++

Spencer finds himself at the college library that night.

He wants to say it was an accident, or that he just happens to know there’s a special edition of a specific book here, but he’d be lying. He read your papers between reports, and found himself having a deep appreciation for the way you write – he wants to ready everything you’ve ever written. Every essay, every note, every formal and informal piece of work you’ve ever done.

He’s already fallen in love with the way you write. He doesn’t think he’s far from falling in love with you.

He wanders around the lower floor of the library. It’s impressive, he must admit, and he’s disappointed in himself for not visiting earlier. There’s students everywhere, but he notices some other people mixed in too – professors, businesspeople, as well as parents with their children.

He feels a little less weird for creeping around now.

Not that’s he’s creeping. He’s just.. there. To see a certain someone under the guise of looking for a book.

He moseys for a while, from the fiction section to the non-fiction to comics to autobiographies. You’re nowhere to be found – not between the rows of books, not working on any of the desks, not at the centre reception desk.

Until you’re suddenly behind him.

“Spencer?”

He jumps, looking up from the book he’s reading. Your voice is as calming and smooth as always.

“Y/N. Hi.”

“Hi,” Your brows are furrowed, but you’re not disappointed by the unexpected visitor. “What are you doing here?”

He lifts the book he’s holding, an Arthur Conan Doyle, giving a light lipped smile. “I’m just looking. I didn’t realise the college library was so plentiful – did you know the oldest library in the world dates from the seventh century BC?”

“I do, actually.” You point to a poster behind him, which displays that exact fact, “I thought dotting facts around the library would be interesting for the kids. They seem to like them.”

“Learning in young children is socially mediated, so good quality learning environments outside of their schools is crucial for children’s development. So, in a way, you’re enriching their lives beyond understanding.”

You’re flattered at his somewhat far-fetched attempt at complimenting you. It makes your heart flutter.

Why didn’t you contact me, you dimwit?

You open your mouth to ask another question, ask if there’s something he needs help finding, when he beats you to it.

With a firm grip, he slams the book he’s reading shut and says, “I’m lying.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t come here to.. look around. I came here to see you.”

“Oh.”

Spencer doesn’t know what to make of that. You haven’t awkwardly looked away, or stepped back to increase the distance between you. That means something good, right?

“You didn’t text me, so I assumed you weren’t interested.” Your brows twitch, and you back-pedal, “Unless you purposely didn’t text me because you actually weren’t interested and you might be here to see me but for something book-related rather than me-related and I’ve totally humiliated myself.”

“No, no. You’re right. You’re right.” He fiddles with the book in shame, “I should’ve texted you. I just didn’t know what to say and.. Well, it’s stupid.”

Your head jerks a little to the side, something he’s noticed you do a lot, looking patient and too pretty for him to handle. “I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

Spencer thinks back to his conversation with Derek, specifically the reminder that you gave him your number which means you initiated this so yes, you are interested in him.

It’s just.. when he looks at you, he struggles to believe it a little. You’re breath-taking.

“I’m worried I’ll bore you.” He starts light, easing you into what’s been troubling him. He’s emboldened by the fact you’re clearly frustrated he didn’t text you.

You give him a look of horror, “The first time we met I told you I loved your dissertation on geographic regression. I definitely do not think you’re anything anywhere near boring.”

“Okay,” He nods, “What about our ages?”

You’re confused. “What about it?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “It doesn’t.. bother you?”

“Does it.. bother you?”

Usually, answering a question with a question is a sign of deflection, a sign of hiding something. However he doesn’t know why, but Spencer trusts you with his life. Maybe not his life. Maybe his heart.

“Does that silence mean yes?”

He shakes his head, “No. It doesn’t bother me. I just worry that, you know, college years are the so-called best years of your life and I don’t want you to regret being with me, someone older than you, and resent me for it, or something-“

“I think you’re getting way in your head, Spence.” You laugh a little, “We haven’t gone on a single date and you’ve convinced yourself of so much already. For the record, no, your age doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It never has and I doubt it ever will. I think you’re the most fascinating and interesting person on this planet, and if anyone is getting bored with anyone I’m pretty confident it’ll be you getting sick of me. And,” You take a breath, “I think I’m old enough to know what I want, who I want, and what I want is you. If you want me, too.”

Spencer shoves the book back into the bookshelf with a satisfying sound, then turns and quickly places a kiss onto your cheek. It’s completely unexpected and, quite frankly, not something you’d expect from Doctor Reid, but you blush and there’s a definite red colour to Spencer’s cheeks, too.

“I will never, ever, get sick of you.” He says, voice small but firm. “But I don’t want you to regret being with me. Promise me you won’t.”

You give him a look that tells him you think he’s ridiculous. “I promise that I won’t regret being with you. I’d like us to last as long as possible, if I can be picky.”

“I’d like that, too.” He murmurs. The thought of you wanting him for as long as possible almost sends him into a frenzy. He wants to kiss you all over.

You stand close and talk quietly for a while, a little more discussion on a possible date that weekend and a constant stream of compliments from you to Spencer and vice versa, before you realise the time.

“I should probably go. I have a paper to finish.” You smile sadly, a tiny pout forming.

“I understand. Do you think I could read it? When you’re done?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Do you know how terrifying the idea of the Spencer Reid reading my work is? But yes, anything for you.”

Anything for you. Are you trying to kill him?

You turn to leave, refusing to admit how sad leaving Spencer makes you feel, when you stop, “One more thing.”

Spencer hums. He’s not fully paying attention, praying to whatever Gods exist that killers take a break on the weekend so he can take you out on the sweetest date.

“If age is a sore area for you,” There’s mirth in your eyes and Spencer prepares himself, “Does that mean the nickname old man is off the table?”

His lips purse and move towards his nose as he narrows his eyes, giving you a look of faux annoyance, “I am not an old man.”

“Sounds like you’re sensitive, old man.”

As you walk away, you jokingly blow him a kiss to add insult to injury. His pretend glare lasts until your back is turned and he feels his gaze softening to something akin to love.

Spencer thins if the rest of his life is this, you teasing him with that twinkle in your eye and smile on your face, then life is truly the most beautiful thing.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #mine

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