#but hotch is the one she trusted for advice.. trusted to look out for her.. to protect her

[miley1442111]

the problem with arguing

a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner

summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?

warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.

1.6k + words.

“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it. 

I knock again as I huff. 

“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye. 

“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh. 

“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?” 

A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile. 

“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?” 

My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.” 

The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness. 

“You two know what time it is?” He yawns. 

“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?” 

“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure. 

He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”

We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.

And that’s when it all goes black. 

I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me. 

“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number. 

I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron. 

“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.

Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails. 

“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out. 

“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise. 

“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks. 

I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out. 

I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt. 

“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed. 

“Jack,” I sigh in relief. 

“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive. 

Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”

I smile at both of them. 

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor. 

“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke. 

“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. 

Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy. 

The next day, the team come in to visit. 

“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me. 

“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”

“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says. 

“We got the guy-” Emily starts.

“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”

“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”

I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray. 

“Hungry?” He smiles. 

“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”

“No.” 

My face drops. “Oh.” 

“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I did.” 

I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”

“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”

“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.” 

His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy. 

“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds. 

“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food. 

“I love you too.”

[reiding-writing]

AHHHHH UNSUB READERRRR such an elite concept, could I maybe request soccer calling her post transfer just to talk to her?? of maybe the team catching wind that he's been in contact with her after the case??

THE PHONE CALLS

spencer & gn!unsub!reader || 0.9k || bloodied roses event!!

WARNINGS: just morgan prying and getting absolutely nowhere with it

a/n — ik it was just a typo but calling spencer ‘soccer’ had me laughing for like five minutes thanks for making my day 😭🙏

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ unsub!reader masterlist!!

Spencer had spent a lot of time on his phone recently.

An abnormally long amount of time for somebody who’s sworn off technology in favour of the more ‘traditional’ methods of doing things.

5PM. On the dot. Every single Wednesday. Rain or shine, office or case, Spencer Reid was talking to somebody over the phone.

There were a few theories floating around.

A hidden partner? Almost immediately shot down with how rigorously timed the calls were.

His mom? She had just as much of a hatred of phones as he did, and everyone knew he sent her letters every day anyway.

A doctor maybe? A therapist? A librarian from somewhere in rural Russia that had the singular print of some random piece of literature that Spencer was trying to get his hands on?

It was honestly anyone’s guess.

The fact that he was being oddly secretive about it wasn’t helping anything either.

It was like he was scared of the team finding out. What was there to be ‘scared’ of? They we’re practically family, he surely knew that they wouldn’t judge him for whatever it was, so why was he keeping everything under lock and key?

Hotch told people that they should just leave it, that he’s entitled to his privacy and doesn’t have to tell anyone anything that he doesn’t want to. But that doesn’t exactly fair too well when you’re talking to a group of people who analyse human behaviour for a living. And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

“That’s good, that’s great news,”

Spencer wasn’t exactly quiet either.

He’d practically barricaded himself in the break room to be able to take the call privately, but his voice was still easily heard through the glass, and it wasn’t exactly helping to dim the over-active curiosity of his teammates.

“You know what I mean, it’s progress, it shows that they’re trusting you,”

His pacing also left something to be desired, rhythmic and almost mechanical like it was a way for Spencer to blow off whatever nervous tension had built up during the course of the phone call.

“Alright, yeah, I’ll speak to you next week okay?” A small pause. “Okay, bye,”

Most of the team scrambled to make themselves look busy as Spencer pocket his phone and emerged from behind his self-imposed glass wall, but there was always one who didn’t know how to follow a crowd.

“Alright, you’ve kept your secrets long enough, who is it genius?” Morgan’s voice wasn’t accusatory as it was curious, and he gestures outwards for Spencer’s answer. One that doesn’t come.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I talk to a lot of different people,” He re-takes his seat as his desk with a small shrug, lips awkwardly pressed into a line.

“You take the same phone call every single week at the same exact time, that’s not ‘a lot’ of people pretty boy, it’s one,” Morgan leans forward in his chair, elbows on the table. “So, who is it? A girlfriend?”

“No—” Spencer shakes his head almost too quickly.

“A boyfriend?”

“No it’s not—” Spencer sighs exaggeratedly. “It’s nothing like that, it’s just an acquaintance,”

“An acquaintance you talk to every single week no matter what, even when we’re in the middle of a case,”

“I like having a fit schedule,”

Morgan shakes his head with a laugh. ��Nothing about this job is ‘scheduled’ Reid, you’re telling me you only keep a schedule when it comes to this specific acquaintance of yours?” His raises his eyebrow unbelievingly, but Spencer doesn’t back down from his stance.

“They have a much stricter schedule than I do, we talk when they’re available,”

Morgan gives a small breathy laugh and a slow, almost mocking nod. “Right, sure,”

“I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know what else you want,” Spencer shrugs again, this time with a small air of exasperation.

He wasn’t technically lying. You did have a strict schedule at the facility you’d been moved to, and you used the one phone call you had a week so that you could speak to him. He wouldn’t want you to waste it by him not picking up. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Whatever you say pretty boy,” Morgan fiddles with the pen in his hand before pointing it across the bullpen in Spencer’s direction. “But rest assured, I will find out who you’re talking to, even if it means having Garcia hack into your phone records,”

Spencer hopes for both of your sakes that Morgan doesn’t find out who he’s talking to.

Although the threat of Garcia didn’t really hold any value, not that Morgan knew that. All they would find was a psychiatric institute, and for all he could’ve been speaking to absolutely anyone there, patient or staff.

So for the time being, your weekly talks remained something kept held close to his chest, something that would hopefully stay that way indefinitely.

[the-ragingenby]

Cross-post:

Dear Fellow Traveler

Chapter 3

TW: MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT (nothing graphic)

“Alright, Morgan. Spill it.” Prentiss pulled out a chair and sat next to Morgan, a playful smirk on her face. “You’ve been giggling at your phone like a teenager for ages now. Who’s the lucky person to have your attention?”

“First of all, I do not giggle.” Morgan muttered. “And second, it’s nothing, Prentiss. Just a friend of mine.” At that, Prentiss raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“A friend, huh? Is that who’s always got your head in the clouds?” Prentiss teased. “Because that sounds like more than a friend to me.” Morgan sighed, deciding to ignore the fact that she might be right.

“Come on, Prentiss.” Morgan said. “You know I don’t chase people for this long.” Prentiss’s smile only grew wider.

“So you are talking to someone! I knew it! Give me all the details.” Prentiss leaned in, teasingly curious. Morgan rolled his eyes at her.

“There’s nothing to say, Prentiss. We haven’t even met in person.” And I don’t even know what he looks like.

“Then it sounds like you need to change that.” Prentiss nudged him gently. “If you ever need advice-”

“You’re probably the last person I’d go seeking love advice from. If I ever needed it, which I don’t.” Morgan retorted, though it was more playful than anything else. “And besides, I don’t really plan to do anything. I just like talking to him, that’s all.” Prentiss stared at him for a long moment, then conceded with a shrug.

“Alright, alright.” Prentiss relented, leaning away. “But seriously, if you’re feeling conflicted, I think you should go for it. Whoever he is, he obviously makes you happy. And that’s good enough for me.” With a smile, she flicked Morgan’s shoulder before sidling back to the others.

“Wheels up in ten.” Hotch announced, suddenly appearing from his office. “We’ll be debriefed on the plane. We’re heading to Richmond.” Morgan rushed to his office to grab his go-bag, while the rest of the team skittered around, gathering their things.

They eventually met up again in front of the elevator. “Did you know that Morgan’s got a boyfriend?” Prentiss whisper-shouted to JJ as they waited. JJ gasped, whipping around to stare at him.

“You’re kidding.” She snickered. “No wonder you’ve been so chipper lately.”

“Alright, stop that. And don’t get your hopes up. He’s not my boyfriend or anything.” Morgan huffed, moving to hold the elevator door open as it arrived.

“Really? That’s too bad. You need one. Maybe then you’ll simmer down a little, mister hotshot.” JJ teased, slipping inside with Prentiss trailing behind her.

By the time they reached the jet, the others were already there. Rossi, who had taken a few days off, had finally returned and was waiting for them on the jet. Hotch was settled in his usual spot, flipping through a few files he had brought with him.

As they took off, Garcia called in to give the rundown of the case. “So, we have a few serial killings at Virginia U. All the victims were girls and were strangled to death, with chains. Though they were never left at the crime scene.”

“Do we know if these chains are a specific make? Maybe they can only be specially bought.” Morgan offered, scrolling through the photos Garcia had sent to their tablets.

“No, these are chains you can buy at any hardware store, according to the marking left. Nothing special about them. Trust me, I already looked.” Garcia sighed, shaking her head. “Anyway, we have had four victims in as many days, which is why we were called in so urgently.”

“The university has a history of students becoming violent criminals, but it's been almost a decade since the last one.” JJ added thoughtfully. “Maybe it's someone who was recently released deciding to come and wreak havoc on the school? Revenge kills?”

“But that was over a decade ago. I doubt they’d want to take their anger out on kids they wouldn’t know.” Rossi offered. “But then again, it's hard to rationalize the actions of a psychopathic killer.”

“Any signs of sexual assault?” Hotch asked. Garcia sighed and nodded.

“More like all the signs.” Garcia said, typing away at her computer. She froze suddenly, a deep frown on her face. “And they’ve just found another victim. I’ve forwarded the photos to your tablets.”

“JJ, you and Rossi will go to the medical examiner. Prentiss, you and Morgan will go straight to the latest crime scene. And I’ll get us set up at the local police department.” Hotch decided. With assignments delegated, the rest of the short plane ride was in relative silence, with the occasional theory being brought up.

~

“He left the chain this time.” Morgan noted, kneeling down to take a closer look at the young woman's body. “And Garcia was right about the chains being accessible. They’re really nothing special.”

“The victim’s name was Emma Garrison. She was reported missing less than 24 hours ago.” Prentiss explained, glancing around the crime scene. “Our unsub did what he planned quickly, and didn’t hold her long, if at all.”

“I would think it would be difficult to keep someone subdued privately on such a populated campus. And no one saw anything at all?” Morgan asked.

“No witnesses have come forward so far.” Prentiss replied, sliding on her gloves as she knelt beside Morgan. She prodded at the body a bit, before letting out a sigh. “There are signs of sexual assault.”

“And clear defensive wounds. Might’ve gotten her with a blitz attack.” Morgan stated. “We need to get into contact with anyone on and off campus that knows her personally. That might help us get closer to the unsub.”

After their analysis of the latest crime scene, Morgan and Prentiss made their way to the local police department. Hotch had already set them up in a conference room, with pictures of the victims taped up in chronological order. “Morgan, Prentiss, this is Detective Noah Walsh. He’s the one heading up the investigation.” Hotch introduced.

Noah gingerly shook their hands, then bowed his head. “Sorry to call you guys here on such short notice. Normally, we’d have more information for you, thanks to our consultant, but he’s stuck at the university. The place is on lockdown until we can find a suspect.”

“Is he like a student there or something?” Morgan asked absently, instead taking in the timeline Hotch had created.

“Well, yeah. But he’s a real bright kid. I’ve been keeping him filled in, so he may call if he has any ideas.” Noah explained. Prentiss nodded.

“We’ll need all the help we can get.” She added dully.

“How is the university handling things?” Hotch questioned. Noah shifted nervously.

“Well, they’ve imposed a curfew.” He said.

“And?”

“That’s it.” Noah raised his hands defensively when Morgan whirled around suddenly, stunned at the seeming lack of concern or care for their students. “There’s been issues at that school for years. Most of the recent incidents have been kept under wraps by the higher ups. But the press caught wind of this too fast for the school to cover it up.”

Hotch frowned. Before he could say more, JJ and Rossi appeared in the doorway. “The press is outside waiting for a statement. We barely made it in here without being tackled.” Rossi huffed, dropping the medical examiner’s reports on the table.

“We’ll hold off on a statement until we can nail down the profile. If we say the wrong thing, we may end up pushing the unsub to strike faster than he already is.” Hotch decided after a moment. “Anything with the medical examiner?”

“The latest victim died the same way as the others. Strangled with a chain and sexually assaulted both post and ante-mortem. This time the chain was left at the scene. There were traces of DNA, and they’re working on identifying it as we speak.” JJ explained. Hotch nodded slowly.

“The strangulation suggests that the unsub has a personal vendetta against these women. But using the chain means he doesn’t want to get his hands too dirty. Yet he still has the strength to subdue these women and kill them quickly.” Rossi added bluntly.

“I bet the university is still trying to cover for this student. They may have some idea as to who our unsub is.” Hotch decided after a while. “I’ll go speak with them. JJ, Rossi, head to the school and interview a few students. I had Garcia compile a list of people who may be of some interest to our investigation. It should be sent to your phones. Prentiss, stay with Morgan and continue to work on victimology. We’ll have to hope that this consultant gives us a call. For now, he’s one of our only leads.”

With that, Prentiss and Morgan were left with Detective Noah, who flipped through the medical examiner’s reports as though new information would jump out at him from the pages. After a while of theorizing in silence, the conference room’s phone began to ring.

Morgan leaned over to read the number, expecting Garcia with more info. Instead, it was a number he didn’t recognize. Or maybe he did, but he couldn’t recall from where. Detective Noah peered over his shoulder, noticing Morgan’s confusion, and slumped a little in relief. “That’s our consultant, Dr. Spencer Reid.” That’s not…my Spencer, is it? Surely not. Right? Without a moment’s hesitation, Detective Noah answered and put the phone on speaker to allow the agents to hear.

“Good afternoon, Detective. Sorry I haven’t called sooner. I had to confirm some things before I presented my findings.” The voice on the other end apologized, letting out an airy laugh. “Your unsub belongs to a makeshift fraternity called Alpha. They basically believe women to be scum, for lack of a better word, and feel it's their place to take care of them. Some of their members even refer to them as dogs, hence the chains. They remind me of chains one may use to shackle a dog to their doghouse.”

“Ew. Men.” Prentiss huffed. “Uh, no offense, Morgan.” Morgan could hardly hear her. Spencer was stuck at a university with a murderer, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“...Derek? Is that you?” Spencer asked carefully, his voice adorably hopeful. Despite his anxieties, just hearing Spencer’s voice made him feel a lot better.

“Yeah, Spence. It’s me.” Morgan smiled, ignoring Prentiss’ shocked gasp.

Spencer nervously cleared his throat, remembering why he had called in the first place. “Right. Um. The dean has been trying to hide this group’s existence from students, but it’s impossible to hide everything from nosy students. They disbanded less than a week ago, which lines up with the first victim. So your unsub is most likely in that group. I’ve just sent a list of all the members to Derek.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Reid. You have no idea how grateful we always are for your help.” Detective Noah sighed, relieved. “Be sure to stay safe.”

“I will. And it’s my pleasure.” Spencer replied, ending the call. Before Prentiss could turn on Morgan to interrogate him, he called Garcia, asking her to check out the alibis for the students on Spencer’s list.

After a bit of digging, Garcia found that only one of the former members of the Alpha fraternity did not have a solid alibi, that being Blake Gaines. “Hotch, it looks like Blake Gaines may be our unsub. He resides in Jayden Morse Hall. I had Garcia send his photo to your phones. We’ll be there in fifteen.” Prentiss relayed as she rushed out of the conference room, Morgan right on her heels.

“I can get us there in seven.” Morgan growled determinedly, fishing his keys out of his pocket and hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Try not to kill us, Morgan.” Prentiss sighed, ending the call. Morgan let out a gruff laugh.

“Like I’d ever let that happen.” Morgan sped down the road, sirens wailing as he went. He braked hard as he came to the police perimeter, quickly shutting off the car and hopping out to rush onto campus.

The pair made their way around the perimeter of the residence hall, eyes carefully trained on the exits and entrances, ensuring that there was no way for Blake to escape. There was a sudden commotion and the rear exit door swung open. Blake was scrambling away, with JJ hot on his trail.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Prentiss and Morgan rush to cut him off, trapping him between the three agents. Realizing he had no means of escape, Blake huffed and slowly raised his hands, allowing JJ to cuff him with minimal insults flung their way. “That was easier than I expected.” Morgan said as JJ marched Blake away.

“Maybe a little too easy.” Prentiss frowned. “With all due respect, he seems like an idiot. I’m not sure how he went on for so long without being caught.” Morgan shrugged, but he had to admit she had a point. Something was amiss.

Morgan hesitated a little as they headed back to the car. Spencer was here, somewhere. And it would be so good to see him. As much as he hated to admit it, he really, really wanted to just hold onto Spencer and give him the attention and love he deserves–

Morgan shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. He really needed to focus. Dealing with his personal life and feelings comes later, his job comes first.

Back at the police station, Morgan stood beside Hotch who was intently watching the interrogation. “So you have no idea how these women ended up dead? Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” Rossi scoffed, tapping at a picture directly in front of Blake. “From what we heard around campus, she was your girlfriend. You two had broken up only a few weeks ago, and you were taking it less than well.”

“Shut the hell up! You don’t know what you’re doing, old man.” Blake snapped back, glaring at Rossi. “I don’t have to say shit. Once the dean catches wind that I’m in here, you’ll all be sorry!” Unfazed by his outburst, Rossi leaned back in his chair.

“You know, we found some DNA at the crime scene. In fact, it was on the victim herself. I bet if we had a sample of yours, we’d find a match.” He offered Blake a tight smile. “Listen, kid. The easiest way to clear your name and get you out of here is to consent to a DNA test. That’s all you’ve gotta do.” Blake tensed, eyes growing wide at Rossi’s words.

“I want my phone call.” Blake huffed, crossing his arms. “I don’t have to talk to you people.” Rossi simply shrugged, standing from the chair and leaving the room.

As Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan were coming up with a new strategy, a well-dressed man barged into the station, pushing past all the officers trying to stop him. “Agent Hotchner!” He yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the agent. “I demand that you release my son this instant! He has done nothing wrong and there’s no proof that any of these killings had to do with him.”

“Ah, Mr. Gaines. I’ve been expecting you.” Hotch straightened up and met his gaze evenly. “We have probable cause to keep Blake here due to DNA we found on the most recent victim. Should he agree to a DNA test, it would expedite the process.”

“Then, I’m here as the dean of Virginia University, trying to free one of my students who is being wrongfully held.” Mr. Gaines faltered a little. “He doesn’t have to consent to a test if he doesn’t want to. His testimony should be more than sufficient.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.” Hotch apologized flatly. “You don’t have the authority to demand the release of a suspect. And Blake is a person of interest.”

“Then I’m calling our lawyer.” Mr. Gaines snarled, glaring harshly at Hotch. “My boy wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Hotch watched him stalk away, then turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia and see if she has anything new on Blake. If we can’t find anything concrete, we’ll have to let him go.”

“Hey, baby girl. Please tell me you’ve got something new on Blake.” Morgan asked, heading into the conference room and placing his phone on the table, so everyone could hear.

“Of course I do! Your lack of faith in me is hurtful.” Garcia huffed. “The kid’s got a sealed record. So of course I got nosy and unsealed it. Turns out, he has like twenty different charges against him for sexual assault against both men and women, but they were dropped every time due to witnesses retracting their statements.”

“And I’ll bet the dean has everything to do with it.” Morgan sighed, shaking his head.

“He’ll be back soon. I’ll see if I can get through to him. Maybe we’ll be able to get that DNA test after all.” Rossi offered. “I mean, Mr. Gaines wouldn’t be rejecting the one thing that could prove Blake innocent once and for all if he didn’t worry that Blake was actually guilty.”

“Alright, that’s probably best.” Hotch decided. “He won’t want to talk to me, since he sees me as responsible for his son being in custody.”

The team waited around for Mr. Gaines to return, surprisingly with no lawyer at his side like they expected. “I’m giving you people one more chance to let my son go without causing any more issues.”

“Mr. Gaines, hello again. A pleasure to see you.” Rossi greeted warmly, taking the man’s hand and pulling him aside. “I just need to exchange a few words with you, if you don’t mind.” Without another word, Rossi pulled him to the far side of the conference room, just out of earshot of the other agents.

Though Morgan couldn’t hear what they were saying, he watched Mr. Gaines’ body language shift as Rossi continued to talk. After a few minutes, they return to the group. “I consent to a DNA test for my son. I…want these women to get the justice they deserve.”

Hotch nodded and went to order the test, while JJ escorted Mr. Gaines out of the room. “What’d you say to him to get him to cave?” Prentiss asked curiously.

“Ah, well. I have my ways.” Rossi smiled as he shrugged. Morgan couldn’t help but laugh while Prentiss rolled her eyes.

After a few hours, JJ returned with Mr. Gaines, who looked like he had seen a ghost. “The test came back positive. Blake confessed to everything after he talked to Mr. Gaines.”

“I betrayed him.” Mr. Gaines murmured. “I should have protected him. And have been a better father.”

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Gaines.” Hotch nodded to him. Mr. Gaines didn’t reply, slumping his shoulders as he turned away. “We’ll need to contact the families of the victims, then we’re done here.”

Morgan helped make a few phone calls, consoling the mourning families. They were grateful, however, for the closure the team was able to provide.

“Shouldn’t you go visit Spencer while we’re still here?” Prentiss asked, spinning lazily in a chair in the conference room. Though the team was technically done with their investigation, they still needed to wait on the jet to be ready.

“I want to. I really do. But I want us to meet under better circumstances.” Morgan admitted. “After helping catch a murderer, I don’t think he’d be in the mood anyway. And I don’t know where he is or what he’s up to.” Prentiss sighed.

“Those are poor excuses. That’s what your phone is for, dummy.” Prentiss swiveled and stared at him. “But whatever. At least give him a call. Check in on him.”

“I will.” Morgan promised.

“The jet’s ready, so let’s get going.” Rossi called, poking his head into the conference room.

“Sweet. This place was getting a little too dreary for my taste. Can’t wait to take a good nap.” Prentiss stretched animatedly and nudged Morgan. “And if I catch wind from Garcia that you didn’t talk to you-know-who…”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, I get it.” Morgan laughed, playfully lifting his arms to appease her as he stood. “You’re really starting to sound like Garcia.”

“Well, good. Then you’ll listen to me.” Prentiss stuck out her tongue at him, which only caused him to laugh harder.

The flight back was short, but not fast enough for Morgan’s taste. As much as he played off wanting to call Spencer, he really wanted to hear his voice again. I miss him. God, I just wanna hold him, so badly.

“You going out with us tonight, Morgan?” JJ asked as they arrived back at the office. “We’re finally back at a reasonable hour. It’d be a shame to waste it.”

“Sorry, guys. I think I’ll pass today.” Morgan replied, quickly gathering his things and attempting to slink away.

“Morgan not wanting to go out? Something’s wrong with him.” JJ blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Is it your boyfriend? Or, sorry, almost boyfriend.”

“Did you know that he’s the consultant for Richmond PD? Morgan got a little flustered when he called in.” Prentiss teased, meeting Morgan’s glare with a wide smile.

“Oh!” JJ smirked. “Well, please. Don’t let us stop you from your romantic pursuits. Have a good night, Morgan!”

“Yeah. Bye, guys.” Morgan sighed and headed to the elevator with a shake of his head.

“We still love you, y’know! We’re just teasing!” Prentiss called after him.

“Totally holding it against you if you find someone!” Morgan replied, letting the elevator doors close before Prentiss could retort.

Morgan drove a little faster than he intended to, but he needed to get home. He needed to hear his pretty boy again. He had hardly stepped through the door when he pulled out his phone and dialed the number he now made a point to commit to memory. It only rang once before there was an answer. “Derek?”

“Hey, pretty boy.” Morgan sighed, settling on his couch.

“I heard you guys caught your unsub. I guess my info helped?” Spencer asked.

“More than you know. We wouldn’t have been able to narrow down our list of suspects that quickly without it.” Morgan replied.

“That’s good. Are you home now? It’s a bit earlier than usual.” Spencer wondered.

“Yeah. And it’s thanks to you. We probably would have been stuck over there for another day or two without you.” Morgan let out a light laugh. “Are you okay though? I know it must have been tough. And you were stuck on campus the whole time.”

Spencer didn’t reply right away, instead letting out a soft breath. “If I’m being honest, I was terrified.” He whispered, voice shaky. “Even when I called Detective Noah to give him information, I was trying really hard to stay composed. When I found out you were there, it made me feel a lot better. Like nothing could touch me, so long as I knew you were near.”

“Spence…”

“Sorry, corny. I know.” Spencer chuckled. “But I’m home now. So everything’s fine. The campus will be closed for the next few days, so I’ll have some free time on my hands.”

“That’s good. You deserve a break.” Morgan barely managed to stop himself from asking about Spencer’s plans. As much as he wanted to meet him, Morgan wondered if it was really the right time. Then again, there’s no time like the present. But, I don’t want to bother him either. God, why is this so hard?

“Spencer, who are you talking to now?” A gruff voice asked from the other line. Morgan frowned, trying to recall where he had heard it before.

“Sorry, I have to go. But we’ll talk later, okay? Take care of yourself, and rest well.” Spencer rushed out, hanging up before Morgan had a chance to reply.

That was more than suspicious to him, but he decided to let it go for now. After all, Morgan didn’t want to push Spencer too much, in case he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Patience, Morgan. Patience.

[maschotch]

I also don't feel like Fisher King let her recognize that Hotch is just some guy. There is a shift in how she views him but its not quite there yet. She doesn't see him as the hero anymore "you got me shot" she's blaming him. There is a crisis but the paradigm hasn't shifted yet but it's starting to. She could have blamed Gideon but he had already messed up before the pilot, he's human. So its easier to see he is a person capable of mistakes. Elle saw Hotch's humanity but not his mistakes.

i looooove that she blames hotch akjsdhglsjd bc i dont think it even matters what hotch could’ve done?? elle just.. has all this unprocessed anger that needs a target. the fisher king was dead  by the time she woke up. that part of her grief, that kind of closure, is over and done with before she’s even really aware of what happened.

she’s stuck in a limbo in the months she’s away—disconnected from the team that’s supposed to be her family—and didn’t have the opportunity to heal before coming back. so she’s just.. sitting with it. and all this negativity festers in the pit of her stomach. it’s regret, it’s sorrow, it’s hate, it’s everything she hasn’t dealt with since the attack. elle’s not really one for self pity and if she can’t do anything healthy with it, all those negative emotions come out as anger. resentment. she externalizes it, and hotch just happens to be the one she chooses.

i think it’s interesting that it’s hotch and not gideon that she’s mad at. i think part of that has to do with her actual relationship with gideon: he may be a little odd, but in the end he always pulls through. he hasn’t failed her yet (which i think is why it’s so important she only meets him after the bombing pre-season one). hotch is capable, but he doesn’t have that almost mystical quality gideon seems to have as he makes intuitive leaps and connections that none of them can hope to achieve. gideon is the infallible one in her mind (spencer and derek, meanwhile, were there for the bombing—they know that, when it comes down to it, hotch is the reliable one). part of it also is the way that gideon neatly avoids responsibility for his mistakes. again, a lot of this has to do with his own unaddressed trauma, but it’s a stark contrast to the way hotch blames himself for everything—including elle’s attack. 

elle knows it’s not really hotch’s fault. she knows that he was just trying to look out for her by telling her to get some rest. but… if it wasn’t his fault, whose was it? the fisher king, but he’s dead and gone—not a suitable outlet. she needs someone real, she needs someone flesh and blood right in front of her to funnel her anger. hotch, intentionally or not, volunteers. and they go too long without addressing it that, before they realize it, this wedge has become an irreparable chasm between the two of them.

[letarasstuff]

You are not gonna meet them

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you all enjoy it :)

Summary: How will their beloved intern react, when the BAU is able to profile that she is seeing someone?

Warnings: One swear word (for the sake of a vine reference)

Wordcount: 1.2k

✨Masterlist✨

__________________________________

“What is their name?” Confused (Y/N) takes her eyes off the cup of her favorite hot beverage. To make sure Derek really speaks to her, she turns around in the breakroom. It’s only the two of them. “Whose name? I’m (Y/N), but Derek I work here for two months already. Aren’t you a little too young to suffer from Alzheimer’s yet?”

He laughs into his own cup before taking a sip. “You are seeing someone. Don’t try to hide that from a bunch of profilers, there is no use in that.”

Being the ever stoic and mature teenager, she sticks her tongue out. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m the CEO of being an open book. But spill your tea about your deductions, Sherlock.”

“As you wish, Watson. You are wearing tinted lip balm instead of your usual clear lip balm. I saw you reapplying it after you dropped off some files in Hotch’s office. Also you have a new hairstyle, which looks quite nice on you. In addition to that you wear a bottom up and I saw you wearing one only once and that was when you had to dress up for an undercover thing. Therefore I come to the conclusion that this is your definition of dressing up and I see no reason for it except you want to impress someone and I know for a fact that everybody in this building is too old for you. So, what’s their name?”

“Whatever”, (Y/N) breathes under her breath and makes an effort to escape this interrogation. But Spencer, who also decided it’s time for the trillions refill of his cup of sugar with a drop of coffee, stands in the doorway. “Spencer, can you please step aside? I have work to do”, she asks him sighing. But the genius doesn’t bulge.

(Y/N) looks dumbfounded at her coworker and friend. “I- that was pretty good. But you haven’t considered that I may have a meeting with our dear Section Chief regarding my future in the FBI.” At the end she smiles, thinking she has won this round. “I did”, Morgan answers, wiping the grin from her face, “ and I know again for a fact that this meeting is next week, because Hotch is seeing her today to talk about that subject. So, what are they like?”

“Oh, does our favorite intern have a love interest? (Y/N), why didn’t you tell me anything?” Emily asks as she enters the breakroom. “No, I don-” “Princess, I told you it isn’t possible to lie to us. We are basically human lie detectors.”

“I heard tea and I want you to spill it.” He says, proud to put the phrase she taught him a while ago in the right context. “There is not tea, just a lame glass of water”, (Y/N) responds and squeezes past him. The three profilers look at each other in confusion. Attracted by her confounding statement, they follow her to her desk.

“Why are you stalking the child?” Rossi asks with Hotch hot on his heels. “(Y/N) is seeing someone, but isn’t willing to tell us anything about them. Now we try to pry every bit of information from her”, Spencer explains.

The talked about subject sits at her desk, acting like nothing just occurred while going through some reports. “Are you talking about her crush?” JJ joins the group observation. Everybody looks at her in shock. “What do you know about this?” Derek may be a bit overprotective over his favorite princess.

“Probably not more than you. I just saw her smiling down at her phone and I didn’t spot a cute dog or cat picture so I figured it has to be an important someone”, JJ explains whilst shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t like this guessing. Why don’t we just ask her?” Rossi is up and goes to (Y/N), the calls of his team members falling on deaf ears.

As the teenager hears the oncoming footsteps, she lifts her head and spies the older Italian. “Not you, too.” A groan leaves her lips while rubbing her forehead in distress. “Bambi, think of it as that: The earlier you confess to your lies, the earlier your conscience is lifted. So tell us about them, will you?”

The rest of the team inches closer to the duo, while (Y/N) contemplates her choices. “Well that is interesting. But what’s also interesting is: I don’t give a shit” Confused by her unusual speech pattern, Rossi throws a pointy glance towards her.

“Fine”, she once again sighs, knowing there is no other way to escape this situation. Not even the teenager’s sarcasm or pop culture can help her anymore.

Eagerly the team crowds around her desk, even Hotch is ready to get some good tea served. “I met them on the bus. Since I started here we rode the same bus every morning and afternoon. Their hair was the first thing I noticed about them. After a month I worked up the courage to talk to them.”

“And?” Morgan asks as (Y/N) doesn’t continue for several minutes. “I chickened out. No cap. But they chatted me up the next day and we are texting each other for several weeks now and we maybe have kind of our first date tomorrow and see each other for the last time today before the date and I want to leave a lasting impression maybe?” At the end she turns red. Like legit red, with tomato ears and stuff.

A loud squeal is heard. “OMG (Y/N) THIS IS SO CUTE I LITERALLY AM DEAD! OUR BABY IS FEELING LOOOOOVE! CLAP THOSE CHEEKS!” Although it seems impossible, she turns even redder at Penelope’s outburst.

“Ok, princess. I’m happy for you, but we need to meet them before you go with them anywhere. How old are they? What do they do for a living? What is their name? Garcia needs to make a background check”, Derek swivels her chair in his direction, looking the girl straight in the eye to make sure he is dead serious.

“Do they read? Emilia Clarke once said to never trust anybody, whose TV is bigger than their bookshelf, and I recommend you to follow that advice”, Spencer adds. “Can we help get you ready? I wanted to do a makeover for you for ages already”, Penelope throws in. JJ and Emily nod at that, showing that they too want to participate in this.

“Are you sure they are not basic, Bambi?” “Oh, Rossi. Never say that again. You are not allowed to talk like ever. Yes, I’m sure they got a cake and an even bigger heart. Before you also say anything complete out of line, Hotch: You all aren’t allowed to see them before I’m completely sure. Period. No complains.”

It’s safe to say that Aaron just needs to flash his doe eyes to convince (Y/N) that they indeed will meet their date before they go out together. I mean, who is better at delivering The Talk to a date than a bunch of (intimidating) profilers and a (even more intimidating) tech goddess?

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 1

Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes?  A/N: Hello! This is my first fic in a very long time, but this story idea has been living in my head for upwards of 6 or 7 years! Please go easy on me, and I hope you enjoy! a big thanks to @candlesandsoftrain for being a great beta! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
 Category: Fluff/getting to know you games with the team Content Warning: nothing in this chapter except lots of flirting, tension, sexually charged drinking games, etc. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 4000+

Chapter 1

The years moved by much too fast for your liking. You were older than you were willing to admit, and the years had been hard. Time moved so oddly- it was so difficult and slow when it was happening, but when you looked back, it was as if it sped by like a freight train.

Today was your first day at your new job-  you were 27 and you’d been waiting your whole life for this day to finally come. After hearing stories about your father all through your life; catching the monsters in the dark as well as those that hide in plain sight… you wanted to be a superhero too. And lucky for you, you had a certain proclivity towards reading people. So, you became a profiler. And after years of grueling school, training and fighting to earn your place with no one knowing the legacy in your blood line, you did it.

No, those weren’t tears in your eyes… it was just dusty in the bullpen, that was all. You could feel him everywhere. You knew this was where he lived and breathed and worked for so much of his life. Your mom never understood how you ended up being so understanding about never seeing him, while your brother spent so much of your lives incredibly bitter and angry at him for “abandoning” you both. You always told Stephen that dad spent every minute of every day trying to make the world a safer place for the two of you to grow up in. And now you could finally continue his life’s work.

You caught a few pairs of eyes looking at you when you entered the bullpen for the first time, walking through like you’d been there a million times before- because in your imagination, your dreams, you had. Dad was always so descriptive with his words, and it was never hard to get lost in his stories.

You walked right to the Unit Chief’s office, knowing that Agent Hotchner was already in there waiting for you. You were supposed to have your first meeting on Monday, but when the team didn’t get back in time from their last case- a strangler in Minnesota, he had called you and you rescheduled to accommodate those dang annoying serial killers. Now it was Wednesday, and you could feel the tired energy in the room. It was filled with the sounds of scribbling pens and pencils on paper, the groans and squeaks of chairs as everyone tried to stay comfortable while doing their paperwork. You spotted a few very attractive people around you, but tried to keep your eyes forward as you headed for your destination.

After knocking on the door, you heard a shuffling of papers as a low, gritty voice welcomed you, “Come on in.”

“Hello, Agent Hotchner. Nice to see you again.” You offered your hand, which he took with his baseball mitt sized one. It was rough and strong, and reminded you of your fathers when you were young. You could tell these hands had seen a lot of conflict.

“Y/N , you’ve grown up a lot since last I saw you.” He had a kind smile on his face, which surprised you, even after all this time. Aaron Hotchner was always such a serious man, even when you were younger. “And please, call me Aaron. You know that.”

You chuckled in response. “I know, but it feels weird to call you that now that you’re my boss.”

“Hotch will do then. Morgan will give you quite a hard time if he hears you calling me ‘Agent Hotchner’, I can promise you that. Sit, sit. Let’s get through all the necessary annoyances so I can properly introduce you to your new team.”

After all of the finalized paperwork and introductory nuisances, Hotch finally stood up, indicating it was time to enter the bullpen again, but with a promise of introductions to your new team. You felt a small pang in your heart. You wished your dad could have been here to do this instead of Aaron. He took notice of your second of discomfort- something you were sure to get used to quickly working with profilers.

“Y/N, he’s here… in you. I know how proud he would be of you.” He said to you with a hand falling to your shoulder.

With a smile, you accepted the comfort, turning to look at him again. “Would you mind… could we see Uncle Dave first? I think it would make me feel a little better to have him next to me for this.” That damn dust was at it again. You were fine, really. You’d been preparing for this emotion for months now- there was nothing to surprise you.

With a gentle smile, Aaron- no, Hotch, you remembered- nodded. “Of course. Follow me to his office.” It didn’t escape your notice that, as you followed him, you were on your way to your dad’s old office. Each step brought you to a place you’d heard about, thought about, dreamt about, but had never seen. But when you walked in behind Hotch, you knew this was nothing like your father would have kept it. It just screamed Rossi.

“Y/n! If it isn’t the smartest and brightest star from the Academy, falling right here into our laps at the BAU!” Dave cheered as he saw you, shooting up from his chair and almost running to you, pulling you into his arms while Hotch closed the door to offer you all some privacy.

“Uncle Dave, you can’t believe how amazing it is to have you here on my first day.” You said into his shoulder, holding him close. He was always such a big supporter of your career- there every step of the way whenever your dad couldn’t be. You always said that you were lucky- god blessed you with a loving, mildly helicopter mother, and two superhero dads so fight all the monsters for you.

“You’re gonna be great, kid. Unless your academy grades and reputation were all a lie to get you out of their hair!” He laughed, low and warm.

You giggled, pulling back from him and punching him lightly in the arm. “Rude.” You took a deep breath, and both men noticed that you were preparing yourself to say something important. “Aaron, Uncle Dave... I made it here on my own, with my mother’s maiden name and no one knowing who my father is. I am so proud to be the daughter of Jason Gideon, and I miss him every day… but I think I want to keep my birth last name a secret for now, if you’re both okay with that. They legally changed my name when I was a baby, and while I would be so proud to have his last name again, I’m- just not ready to hold up his legacy just yet.” You explained to them, hoping they understood. Your parents had decided very early on that they didn’t want you to have the last name Gideon. It was just- too dangerous. Your father had put away too many bad people, especially people that preyed upon little girls, to risk your life that way. So while you thought of yourself as Y/N Gideon in your mind, you’d never said it out loud before. Not once.

“Of course, kiddo. Whatever you want, we’ll follow your lead. Hopefully Garcia can’t find anything with your last name, but we’ll have Kevin keep an eye on her search history in case she finds anything. But if you’re worried about anyone finding out, I would tell her and promise her to secrecy though. Because if super tech genius finds out before you tell her… everyone will know.” He explained, and you laughed. You’d heard about Garcia. Your dad used to drive her crazy. You considered Rossi’s advice and nodded, understanding and deciding to think on it.

“Ready?” Hotch said after a moment, gesturing to the bullpen, where you could see several people grouped up at a desk, staring into Rossi’s office with curiosity and perhaps a little bit of uncertainty.

“As I’ll ever be.” Rossi squeezed your hand and you smiled at him, a big toothy smile shining back at you. With two men you knew you’d already trust your life with by your side, you walked out of the room knowing that these people who you already knew so much about would soon also hold your life in their hands. “Team, I’d like to introduce you to the new member of our team, Y/N L/N. She’s transferred in with top marks from the Academy, and she’s been highly recommended by all of her professors.”

You blushed at his compliments, rolling your eyes at him. “I didn’t have the highest marks in ALL of my classes. Shooting targets took me a while.” You smile, waving at the team awkwardly. “Hi everyone, it’s an honor to be here with you. I’ve heard so much about all of you. You’re all pretty famous around the bureau. I can’t wait to meet you all and get to know you as my team instead of people I’ve been idolizing for 10 years!”

Everyone laughed, and a tall, dark and handsome man walked forward with a giant grin on his face. “Hey, Y/N, I’m Derek Morgan. You are welcome to continue to idolize me as much as you’d like.” You could have snorted, he was so much like your dad described.

“Nice to meet you, Agent Morgan.” You said with a mildly flirty smile, holding your hand out to him happily. No worries for you, you were definitely going to like your job if you had him to look at all the time.

“That’s enough touching for now, little newbie,” a big beautiful blonde said from behind him. “That is my man-candy you’re ogling and groping, thank you very much.” There was no venom to her words, just something that you could only describe as adorable teasing. She was so colorful, it was almost as if there was a light shining around her. She was just a glowing ball of sunshine… You knew you’d be fast friends with her. “I’m Penelope Garcia, resident tech Goddess and most loyal beck and call gal.”

You took her hand and shook it, before doing a slight curtsy, earning you a giggle. “An honor to meet you, Tech Goddess Garcia.”

“Ignore her, they’re perfect for each other because of their over inflated egos.” You heard a blazé voice coming from the other side of Derek Morgan. “He’s eye candy for us all, much to her dismay. She’s never been one for sharing. I’m Emily, one of the few normal ones here.”

“Normal, pfft. She’s far from normal. You should hear her talk about her cat. Jenniffer Jareau, but my friends call me JJ.”

You took both of their hands in firm handshakes, grinning at them both. “Nice to meet you, and thank you for the permission to ogle, Agents. As far as normal, I sure hope not. Normal is vastly overrated.” You grinned at them. Damn they were cute. Was this whole team models who decided to become do-gooders and join the FBI?

“Halloweentown, 1998, said by Debbie Reynolds.” A small voice in the back of the group piped in, confident in words and speed, but somehow… demure and shrouded in uncertainty, too. The team parted so you two could see each other, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a few seconds. In front of you was the prettiest, most adorable, hottest guy you’d ever seen. He had a sexy professor thing going on, but simultaneously looked like he was an anxious teenager, terrified of being bullied by this newcomer.

You longed to hold him and protect this stranger from the rest of the world and heal any wounds he had succumbed to in the time before you. He was staring at you too, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, pupils a little bigger than you can only assume they would normally be. After a snicker broke you both from the weird moment, pretty boy smiled a little and gave an awkward wave. “Hi. Doctor Spencer Reid.”

Oh. God. Your heart stopped a second time, and you swore, this is what a stroke felt like. You’d heard about Spencer for the last ten years. Your father loved him almost as much as he loved you and your brother. Maybe even more sometimes. The BAU resident genius, IQ of 187, eidetic memory, born in Las Vegas and wasn’t allowed in most casinos due to his card counting ability. Ability to empathize and love in a beautiful and incredible way- your father adored him, and because of how he spoke of him, you… you’d always had a crush on this faceless idea in your head with his wild mop of hair and tall, lanky frame. You had a general picture from all these years, but nothing had prepared you for this.

“H-Hi. I’m Y/N. N-Nice to meet you.” You said, trying your hardest not to sound like a little school girl with a crush on her teacher. You’d just met the man, for god sakes. You heard another snicker, and this time you knew it was from Morgan just from the proximity of the sound and the testosterone you could feel from the gesture. You tried to ignore your flaming red cheeks, and held out a hand a second before remembering that he hated being touched by strangers. A big germaphobe, always calculating the risk of what contact could mean for him. But before you had a chance to pull away, he reached out and took your hand, giving it a squeeze. You must have looked as shocked as you felt, but no one else noticed because everyone was staring at Reid with the same expression you were wearing. And to be honest, he looked just as surprised, if not more so.

Garcia made a breathy squeak sound, and somehow, that broke the tension of the moment, and you and Reid pulled away at the same time, both looking like you’d just been shocked by electricity. You stretched your hand out, staring at it, feeling on edge all over again, thinking about how good his hand felt in yours, and how good it would probably feel other pla-

“Well, I hope you all will be on your best behaviors, and treat Y/N like you would want to be treated as a newcomer in a team like ours, seeing what we see.” Hotch finally broke the silence. “Y/N, if you have any problems, come find myself or Rossi and we’ll help sort them all out.” Nodding, you looked at him and smiled, suddenly very embarrassed that your boss and your uncle just witnessed all of that. As profilers, they were going to come to so many conclusions, and each was more embarrassing than the last.

“Pretty boy and pretty girl, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-” You heard Derek sing-songing and he walked away, looking like the cat who got the cream. He was interrupted only when Emily punched him quite hard in the arm, looking at you with a wink and a smirk as she headed back to her desk as well. You tried to avoid looking at the genius again, but it was… difficult to say the least. You wanted to memorize everything about him. You wanted to pick his brain and listen to every fact he’d ever memorized. You wanted to experience him in all the ways your father had gotten to and more.

You watched as the team dissipated and then your eyebrows furrowed. “Rossi?” You asked, stopping him in his tracks as he was headed back to his office. “Where’s my desk?” He looked over his shoulder at you and you could tell he was holding back a shit eating grin as he pointed with his thumb to the desk directly across from Reid.

Fuck. You both looked at each other… or well, you looked at him, and he looked away like he’d been caught doing something and sat down, looking at his paperwork blankly. As you headed to your new desk, you’d give anything to know what was happening inside that massive brain of his.

Staring at your empty desk, you imagined what you could put there. Pictures of your family, pictures of your friends and your cats… One day you would put up a picture of your father… one day. For now, you grabbed your briefcase from your side and opened it up. You started unpacking some of your first day necessities; pens and notebooks, little toys and bright objects to remind yourself that there is good in the world. Your pile of books out; you always kept at least ten books on you at all times. One for every kind of mood you could be in- and at least three that you hadn’t read yet and were planning on.

As you prepped your desk, you could feel those eyes on you, analyzing your every move. You wanted to look up and see if you could find what he was figuring out within those eyes, but you tried to keep busy so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself again.

“Another book nerd, I see.” You heard that deep, caramelly sweet voice behind you. Derek sat on your desk right next to you and smiled a toothy smile at you. “Pretty girl likes to read, huh?”

Smiling at him, you raised a brow. “Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.” You were about to quote the originator, but someone else beat you to it.

“Malorie Blackman. British children’s literature writer and science fiction author.” Your head snapped to the person in front of you, who wasn’t looking at either of you.

Smiling at him, you nodded, and then turned to Morgan. “Yup, Malorie Blackman. Empathy is a huge part of the job, right? Reading allows us to experience a million different perspectives- which, as proflers, is necessary to catch the bad guys. I read so I can try to understand as many perspectives in this world as possible.”

Derek looked a little impressed, at least, and you couldn’t get a read on the gorgeous mop of brown hair on the desk across from you. Derek picked up one of the books still on your desk, not organized in your little library yet. “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings?” He comments, and you catch Spencer’s eyes flick up at the title, curious.

“It’s my favorite. Not only do I love birds, but I’m a very big Maya Angelou fan. I’ve… always kind of felt like a bird stuck in a cage. Flitting about, trying to figure out what to do with my life and who I am... No book has ever made me feel more seen or understood as a human being.” You caught those big, interested eyes and you almost felt like you might have shared too much. You’ve always been an open book, but somehow, the way he was looking at you made you feel more vulnerable than you had… ever.

Derek nodded and smiled, putting the book down on your desk. “Well, lady genius, I’m going to try and get everyone to get together tonight for drinks, would you be interested in getting to know us in a more fun environment, or would you rather just go to the library with Pretty Boy over here and nerd out together?” He teased, making both of you blush.

“I-I don’t know. I’ve spent all of the years of my adulthood studying and sleeping and working to get here, so I haven’t really… spent a lot of time at bars?” Admitting that wasn’t the best feeling, but better to be honest than try to make up a lame excuse.

“Do I hear we have a light weight to peer pressure?” Derek said, loudly enough to catch the attention of everyone else. JJ and Emily looked enthused, and Rossi poked his head out of his office to chime in.

“Someone’s convincing Miss nose in a book Y/N to go out for drinks tonight? I’m in and I’m buying!” That was met with an uproarious approval from everyone on the team, with the exception of Reid, who was just looking at you, seemingly waiting on you to decide.

You bit your lip, noticing how Reid’s eyes fell to your lips in reaction. Well… if you could spend more time with the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen looking at you like that more… “Well… I guess. Sure. Sure, okay, I’m in.” You finally agreed, everyone whooping and hollering in celebration at you giving in. “Doctor Reid? What about you?” You looked at him through your eyelashes, and you could swear you saw his eyes dilate more.

“Oh, pretty boy barely ever comes out drinking with us anymore. He’s always holing himself up in his apartment- books from floor to ceiling, books in the fridge, freezer, on the bed, in his drawers and closets…” Derek teased, reaching over to Spencer and ruffling his hair.

Reid looked at Morgan and shoved his hand away and tried to fix his hair, rolling his eyes. “I do not have books in my freezer. That would be a terrible spot to put them, it would completely ruin the delicate spines.” You smiled at him in support, and he sat up a little straighter. “I… I’m in. For tonight.” He looked right at you when he said it, and you couldn't help but feel a little flutter in your stomach at the idea that he was going just to get to know you.

Morgan seemed to be thinking the same thing, and the face he gave Reid as he stood up and sauntered away said more than he needed to outloud. Once Reid looked away from Morgan, your eyes met and you both smiled again. “You’re a fan of Maya Angelou?” He asked, nodding towards your book.

“I am. I was always drawn to books that had birds on the covers, but then I actually read it and realized how beautiful it is on the inside.” You held the book in your hands gently. It was a mutual love, one your shared with your dad.

“The number of bird species in a person’s surroundings correlates directly to happiness levels.” He said, smiling at you like you were the most interesting thing in the world. The attention should have made you uncomfortable, but it just made you feel warm… important.

“Really?” You searched his eyes, wondering how much information was in that brain, stacked away for use when necessary. “That’s so interesting. I thought most people found birds annoying because of all the noise.”

He shook his head. “On the surface, they think it’s annoying, but once one becomes used to the sounds all around them, they find the background noise comforting. Most people find absolute silence much more disconcerting.”

“Absolute silence, for sure. But comfortable silence between two people who find solace in each other… I think that’s my favorite background noise.” He looked at you as you spoke, a small bit of hope flickering in both of your faces. You’d felt… alone, since your fathers spirit left this world months ago. It had been so hard to be at school and unable to go to his services, terrified of people finding out who your father was and that information altering your career. You hadn’t even applied to the bureau until you had your recommendation letters in order- you didn’t want Aaron giving you any false starts just because he knew. You liked to visit his grave once a month and tell him all the things you wrote in your letters to him. You carried around his private notebook as a reminder of the people in the world he saved, the people you wanted to save. You clutched your briefcase close, knowing you couldn’t put it in your desk with Reid watching you so closely. You’d find time to slip it in later, when no one was looking. With that eidetic memory, you knew he’d recognize it immediately, and you didn’t want his curious gaze to ruin your secret just yet. You wanted the team to form their own opinions of you before they knew... because the moment they knew, everything would change.

Next chapter

[dreamingaboutreid]

Hospital Bed Confessions: Chapter 7

*Continuation*

*Flash-forward*

Spencer was truly in awe. It had been 8 months since you joined the BAU.

Hotch seemed much happier with no more mountains of paperwork on his desk. All the files were neatly filed in Y/N’s office and his workload was greatly alleviated. He also had someone to confide to and understand a little bit of the pressure he had been experiencing.

Emily loved having a fellow Chesapeake Bay alumnus. With JJ being on mom-duty, Emily had a friend to go out with after she returned to the team, and they seemed to have plethora of things to talk about and relate to. He often heard them discussing their love of Kilgore Trout or favorite traveling destination.

Penelope was ecstatic to have another affectionate and loving member on the team. Y/N spent a lot of time with Garcia on deciding cases and it was evident how much they cherished each other. Y/N often brought in colorful collectibles and helped Penelope arrange them in her office.

Rossi respected Y/N’s focused yet good-natured character. They shared stories of their time in the military, which they rarely disclosed with the other members. He thought of Y/N as a daughter and took pleasure in sharing his knowledge of cars and whiskey.

JJ treated Y/N like a sister. It was obvious how similar they were. Both attentive and considerate with remarkable people skills. Y/N also became JJ’s go-to babysitter as JJ full heartedly trusted her with kids, which was a huge compliment coming from JJ.

Derek enjoyed Y/N’s company, who had a surprising knowledge of football, and would often make fun bets on what team would win the next game. He would also come to you for solid advice when he needed someone to level with him.

Not to mention, everyone was thrilled to go home at least an hour earlier normal, thanks to your fast but thorough write-ups you continued to do every day on behalf of the team.

For Spencer, you were a whole new world. He not only appreciated you as a hardworking member but as a new best friend.

You never interrupted him and seemed genuinely invested in whatever he said. Whether it was a new book he was reading or a new foreign film that came out. You truly made him feel heard and cared for. After he told you about Maeve, it felt like something was taken off his shoulder. Like you knew his pain and rather than only feeling sorry for him, they shared it together.

He also truly admired your ability to talk to people. Whether it was a serial killer who was holding a gun to someone’s head or a sobbing parent who had just lost a child or even an abrasive detective they had to work with, you just knew exactly what to say.

Spencer couldn’t place a flaw in you. The way you smiled, talked, listened, walked, ate, slept, heck everything, seemed so perfect to him.

When Blake came to his apartment to say her farewell, he was devastated. Another person was walking out of his life. But for the first time, he didn’t wallow up in his apartment by himself, blaming his eidetic memory for repeating all their conversations in his head or contemplating then shutting down his mental debate on taking dilaudid.

He didn’t hesitate to dial your number, and you appeared in front of his door in a matter of minutes. You had the ability to listen to his problems and somehow make them go away, or at least make him feel better.

While he always appreciated it, it bothered Spencer after a while how you never came to him when you wanted to feel better. You managed to carry all that weight without yourself ever breaking.

But he realized that it wasn’t anything personal. You just never showed much emotions to anyone, except for happy ones.

Spencer remembered when Derek asked you one day,

“How come you never come to us when you’re feeling down? There’s no way you’re always a ray of sunshine. Even baby girl has her emotional breakdowns.”

You had quickly brushed it off and said, “I’d rather make people smile than worry or cry.”

And it was the end of that.

Spencer often thought about this. Derek made a very good point. You were human after all.

But he knew that there was something much darker in you.

While you didn’t voice your emotions, your eyes told a different story.

When you were interrogating unsubs, your eyes became cold but your words remained calm and almost soothing, as if you were luring them out their lies to know their true intentions. When you were talking to victims or victims’ families, your eyes showed sympathy and it comforted whoever you were consoling when explaining that the unit was doing our best. And when you were talking to the ones you loved and cared about, you allowed your eyes to relax but there was a twinkle that he couldn’t keep his own eyes off of.

He hoped that you would open up to him, like he had to you.

But, it wasn’t too long until his wish was answered and he witnessed something that changed everything.

Y/N’s POV

You were exhausted.

It wasn’t the workload or rigor your job came with.

It was the emotional tole. You learned how to compartmentalize your feelings well from losing the ones you loved from experience.

But this job was different from talking to soldiers or serial killers. You were talking to normal people. You had unconsciously put your guard down and the emotions hit you little by little.

Every day, you walked in to deciding which cases to solve and you walked out hoping it was the right one to choose. The extra work you were doing actually helped keep your mind out of all the feelings and reality and helped focus your energy on something tangible.

You weren’t sure what came over you that day, but you had been on edge the whole jet ride back from a case. When everyone arrived back to the office, it wasn’t just you who was drained.

“Everyone go home early and get some ready. You deserve it. But report back tomorrow at 9 to finish your statements,” stated Hotch.

“I think I’ll stay back. Finish some of the paperwork,” you stated with a weak smile.

Hotch looked at you reluctantly.

“Are you sure? Everyone’s worn out. It’s okay to go,” Hotch said.

“It must be all the coffee,” you joked lamely, hoping Hotch took the excuse.

Hotch didn’t seem to notice as it was quite normal for you to stay late.

“Alright. Well, everyone thank Y/N on the way out and report back tomorrow at 10,” Hotch said as patted you on the back as he exited.

“Thanks for the extra hour of sleep,” Rossi stated as he walked towards the elevator.

“You’re an actual lifesaver,” Morgan commented.

As everyone said their respective greetings and left, you quickly ran up to JJ.

“Hey, JJ. Can I ask you a favor?” you asked.

“Of course! I owe you anyways,” JJ said.

“Do you mind if you give Spencer a ride home? Usually I take him, but I don’t want him to wait for me and he seems pretty tired,” you stated.

While you truly loved the arrangement you had with Spencer, you needed some space right now.

“Sounds like a plan. Just tell him I’ll be waiting in the car,” JJ said as she grabbed her belonging.

You thanked her and gave her a quick hug.

You turned and found Spencer already reading a book by his desk. Even though you thought Spencer always looked handsome, you had to admit that he did look tired.

“Hey, Spence. I think I’m going to stay a little late today.”

“Yeah, I heard you telling Hotch. I don’t mind waiting,” he said.

It must have been the pent up emotions you had been suppressing as you could feel your eyes slightly tearing up. You quickly forced them away, praying Spencer didn’t catch on. No matter how many times Spencer displayed his kindness and patience, you always appreciated his small acts of compassion.

“No, no. You must be exhausted. I asked JJ to take you home, and she’s waiting in her car for you. Seriously, get some rest,” you reassured Spencer.

After a bit of reluctancy, Spencer replied,

“Okay, I probably shouldn’t keep JJ waiting for too long. Thanks, Y/N. Don’t stay too late.”

You simply nodded and you watched Spencer walk away while looking back.

You waved, indicating that it was okay to leave.

After he finally left, it was just you, all alone. You turned off the lights in the pit, making it pitch dark, and walked into your office.

Closing your door and only turning on the light on your desk, you went to the corner of the room and sank down as you burst into tears.

It wasn’t the first time you had a breakdown. But it was always behind closed door. In the bathtub in your house. In the comfort of your bed. At the safety of your house. But today, you couldn’t hold it until you went home.

As you wept, you hoped the tears you released would somehow erase the remorse you felt. You sobbed without anything holding you back until you felt a looming presence over your crouched figure.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer. You startled me, I didn’t notice you were here,” you quickly said as you tried to wipe away the evidence of your momentary vulnerability. You didn’t need a mirror to know that it was an unsuccessful attempt.

“Sorry, I saw the light in your office and thought you’d be in here.”

“Did you forget something?” you asked, puzzled by his unexpected return.

“No, I just didn’t want you to be all alone so I told JJ that she could just go home,” Spencer said softly.

He continued, “I also saw you were a bit uneasy earlier.”

So Spencer hadnoticed.

“In fact, it seemed like you were stressed the whole day. Are you okay?” he asked.

You weren’t sure if it was the display of Spencer’s empathy again or the fact that he recognized something was bothering you when you were able to hide it from a group of profilers, but you felt the tears reappearing again and you didn’t want to hold back.

You broke into sobs for the second time that day and slowly slid back into the position you were originally in.

Spencer didn’t hesitate to join you as he sat and put a tight protective arm around you while he just let you cry.

“Am I making the right decisions? Who am I to choose who dies or lives? What if….” you trailed as you muffled all your worries into his chest.

For the first in a long time, you felt safe in the arms of someone else. You didn’t have to, or heck, want to hide yourself anymore. When Spencer held your hand, you knew.

You looked up to see the most understanding eyes, and you knew right then and there that you had found your person.

[avenging-criminal-bones]

After All This Time || Chapter One

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 1206

Summary: You being a new recruit pissed SSA Aaron Hotchner off. You being smart enough to give Spencer a run for his money pissed him off even more. Really, he just despised your presence. Hated your every move…

Until one day, he didn’t.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: angst, Hotch yells (but we like that here)

A/N: Stuff starts to get set up in this chapter :)

Tag List: @uwu-sebastianstan @piggyinthesea @yoshigguk @scootankle @thatisthemagic @errorcosplay67

* * * * *

Chapter One

You walk through the bullpen, with your hair in a tight ponytail on top of your head. The black flats you wore sliding across the carpet with ease as you walk in with confidence.

There's a whistle to your left and you stop, brows furrowing as you walk towards the- admittedly attractive man- and cross your arms.

"Can I help you?" You speak with an air of authority over the man and wait for his response. The playfulness in his eyes is immediately hardened as he stands and towers over you by a good three inches.

"Agent Derek Morgan of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Are you Y/N L/N?" He looks amused as you shrink down slightly, losing some of that confidence from just a second earlier.

"Um, yes sir. I'm sorry about that. The men at the LA branch were-"

"It's alright, babygirl. You'll just have to get used to me." He doesn't say it in a suggestive manner, just states it as a fact. You can tell that he has a flirty attitude, but the gleam in his eyes just shows that he is like that with everyone. Especially when a very eccentric, blonde woman walks into the room and he whistles again speaking about her being his 'Baby Mama'.

"Just a heads up, we try not to profile each other here. It's like an unspoken rule, so to speak." You turn to where the voice came from and see a very kind, motherly looking woman holding her hand out to introduce herself. "My name is Jennifer Jareau, but the team calls me JJ."

"Y/N L/N. It's nice to meet you," you pause for a moment, watching Derek's interaction on the other side of the room, "Is he always like that?"

A black haired woman answers then, "Yes. Every day, with everybody. You get used to it." She tips her head to you, "Emily Prentiss."

"Agent L/N. My office, please. Now."

You spin at hearing your name and look up to see who you can only assume is Aaron Hotchner. He doesn't wait to send you a smile or a wave, instead opting to spin on his heel and walk into the room that you guess is his office.

Turning back to the two girls who had made you feel welcome, you nodded slightly and said, "It was nice meeting you, but I guess that's my cue."

The women nod, but you don't see them because you're already walking into the head SSA's office.

You knock gently on the door before walking, despite him being the one who asked you to see him.

"Agent Hotchner. It's nice to meet you, I'm-"

"Sit down, L/N."

You obey, and sit a bit straighter than you had been to meet the others. The calming, welcoming nature of the girls was not shared by Hotchner.

Scanning the room, you notice a few things. You aren't aware that you hadn't heeded JJ's advice, and you look for details that will tell you who your new boss really is.

The first thing that you see is the absence of a wedding ring. It draws your attention that a man of his age and position of power isn't married. Subconsciously narrowing your eyes, you see that there is a fading tan line on the same finger.

So he was married.

Tilting your head to the side, you see two drawing that are seemingly by a child. By the looks of it and the minimal errors with staying in the lines, you decide it is a child near the age of six. Probably the same boy in those pictures on his shelf.

His son and his wife? His ex-wife. You correct yourself as your gaze flies back to his bare ring finger.

He doesn't look up from the papers on his desk until you've been quietly observing him for about two minutes.

"Something you'll do well to learn, L/N," his voice, stern and final, pulls you out of your observations, "Is that we don't profile each other here. So I suggest that you stop trying to pick me apart and instead listen very carefully to what I'm about to tell you."

Shocked by the aggressive tone, you can only nod your head.

“Those men and women that you met on your way in? I trust them with my life. You on the other hand? I wouldn’t trust you to make me a coffee if you had the instructions right in front of you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. I-”

“Yes, what?” He interrupts, glaring down at you from his place behind his desk.

You want to roll your eyes, but as it seems that you already started in his bad side you don’t.

“Yes, sir. I understand. I c an only hope that my performance with whatever case we come across next, that I can change that opinion.” Keeping your pin straight back, you add a pleasant smile to your demeanor in hopes to look less scared.

He looks back down as his paperwork and says, “You are dismissed, L/N.”

Nodding slightly to yourself you stand and try to regain your dignity before stepping out of his office. You take notice that the blinds had been wide open and the crack under the door suggests that anyone in the bullpen would have been able to tell what was said.

Once you get back to the group of your coworkers, you are introduced to Spencer: a young man who seems just as smart as you were told, and Rossi: an older Italian man with a little too much knowledge of cooking.

“JJ, he didn’t tell me where my desk is. Is it the empty one closer to the entrance?” You gesture slightly with your bag.

Slowly she nods and you brush past her with a soft ‘thank you’.

You were warned by Strauss that you would need to be prepared to leave to anywhere in the country at anytime. She mentioned that most of the team has a “go-bag” that they bring with clothing and spare toiletries. So you had brought yours in with you to stash in your desk.

Hoping that no one would say anything to you about what Hotchner had said, you set to work trying to make your desk more your own.

Shuffling through the drawers, you find an old desk tag and pull it out. Derek walks over to you; he had been watching you the whole time.

“Who is ‘Elle Greenaway’? Is she the previous agent that I’m filling in for?” You ask with curiosity.

“Um. Yes. She was. She was shot and killed three months ago.” His voice was solemn and instantly you regretted asking.

“Derek, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I know. It’s okay. That’s probably why Hotch was acting so uptight about you being here in his office.” He patted you on the shoulder and wandered over to the coffee machine that no doubt made shitty coffee.

Something in your gut told you that was not why, but you appreciated the sentiment so you didn’t say anything as he left.

Letting out a long breath that you didn’t even know you were holding, you steel yourself and get to signing on the preliminary paperwork.

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

You matter - Aaron Hotchner x fem! reader

A/N: So a lot of you seemed to like my last one about hotch and trust me i have plenty more! I also have some for spencer and am currently writing a mini series for derek so if anyone’s interested in that let me know. Enjoy.                                Warnings: Mentions of a case, swearing                                                                Word count : 1,762                                                                                                  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sat in the lobby of the hotel; my head held in my hands. This case had taken a toll on all of us. All we wanted to do was to get back to Quantico and get a goodnights rest in our own homes, in our own beds. But apparently mother nature had other plans. A storm had been brewing all night – thunder, lightning, rain – the whole lot. So, we’d been made to stay another night in the local hotel. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad hotel. If anything, it’s one of the nicer ones we’ve stayed in throughout the years, but the frustration from not being able to go home grew in all of us. I was so wrapped in my own thoughts I didn’t notice someone taking a seat next to me. 

“You okay?” Hotch’s voice made me jump. I placed my hand over my chest. 

“God you scared me.” I said chuckling. Hotch smiled at me. 

“Sorry, you just looked like you could use the company.” He replied. I sighed. 

“Yeah. I guess I could.” He studied my face for a moment. “

Are you okay?” He seemed hesitant in his words. Mine and Hotch’s friendship is quite a casual one. We occasionally see each other outside of work, I’ve even watched jack for him when Jess wasn’t able to. Hotch had confided in me with some of his deepest secrets. Nightmares, regrets, worry’s about not being a good father. But I listened. We’ve never discussed my thoughts, my feelings. And that’s okay. I don’t want to be a burden to him, or any of the team. So, whenever they had a problem, I would sit and listen. I’d comfort them, try my best to give them advice or simply let them get their feelings out. But when it came to myself, I push all those feelings down. Until my key hits the door. 

“Hey.” Hotch nudged my arm. I hadn’t realised I’d been gazing at the wall ahead of me, once again caught up in my own thoughts. 

“What’s going on? Talk to me.” He said softly. I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed.

 “It’s just this case you know. I get that our job is to get inside the mind of these psychos, but I can never understand why people hurt kids.” I explained. 

“We can never truly understand why these people do what they do.” Hotch replied. 

“That’s not true. In most of our cases, I do understand. I’m able to see the reasons as to why they kill. I never agree with them before you think I’m insane.” Hotch chuckled stiffly at my words. 

“But when it comes to kids, I never understand it. There’s no logic, no sense to it. And this case especially. As if torturing them wasn’t enough, why then display the dead bodies for the family to see? I mean the families have been through enough, the child went through enough. I thought this guy would have some shred of humanity left not to fucking humiliate and scar them all afterwards.” I could feel the anger building up inside of me. There’s something I hadn’t told the team. And now it was about to come bursting out. 

“I know they have no emotions. I know they don’t think the right way. I know that biologically that there is something wrong with them. I know the facts. But it still bugs me. And the fact he was fucking laughing when we brought him in. That sick bastard.” I stood up and started pacing. Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes as I ran my shaking hands through my hair trying to cling on to any sense of calm I had left. 

“I hate him.” I spat. All hope of remaining collected went out the window. Hotch stood up and came towards me. 

“Y/N, listen to me calm down.” He reached out to place his hands on my arms. 

“No. This isn’t fair. Abbey didn’t do anything” 

“Abbey? The last girl he killed?” Hotch asked but I ignored him. 

“She was seven. SEVEN HOTCH. All she wanted to do was go to school, live her life, play with her friends. Instead, she ends up being kidnapped, brutally torched and murdered then get’s her dismembered body presented on her front lawn like she was some kind of abstract art.” I was hysterical at this point. Crying, yelling – I couldn’t stop myself. 

“I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.” I pounded my fists against Hotch’s chest with every sentence, until I eventually wore myself out and collapsed into his arms sobbing. He held me, letting me get everything out. I could feel his hands gently rubbing my back, soothing me. We were now crouched down on the floor and at some point Hotch must have moved us to a corner somewhere as his back was resting against a wall. When I eventually stopped crying, I noticed I was half sprawled across his lap. I didn’t have the energy to stand so I just shifted myself, so I was comfortable and able to face him. He gently brushed the hair out of my face. I couldn’t meet his gaze. I was embarrassed to have lost it like that. 

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He replied, softly 

“Can I ask you a question?” I nodded at his words. 

“Why is this effecting you so much? I understand this case has been a brutal one but it’s not the first time we’ve dealt with this level of torture. It’s certainly not the first child killer we’ve dealt with. So, what’s changed?” He took my hands in his and begun to rub small circles around them, offering me a small sense of comfort. His tone was soft. I could tell he was asking from a place of genuine care for me. 

“I knew her.” I confessed. Hotch’s hand stilled on mine. “She was my niece.” Hotch looked slightly puzzled at my words. 

“But her parents, they’d never seen you before?” He asked. 

“Well, you know how they told you she was adopted when she was a child? And that her birth mother passed away a few months after they took abbey into their care? Her mum was my sister. Making abbey my niece.” I explained in a low tone. 

“H-how long have you known?” Hotch questioned. 

“I’ve known for a while. I knew before we took the case.” I replied. 

“You knew this entire time and you didn’t say anything? Not even when we found her?” Hotch sounded shocked. 

“I just couldn’t face it at the time. We needed to find the Unsub and I didn’t have time to let my feelings get in the way. They weren’t important.” I said looking at the ground. Hotch sighed . I felt him placed his finger under my chin and gently guide my eyes up to meet his. 

“Listen to me okay, your feelings matter. They will always matter. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you to have seen that yet continue to work the case and I’m deeply sorry for your loss. But please, never hide your feelings from us. From me. You’ve helped me on countless occasions, and I apologize if I haven’t made you feel like I could return the favour.” I shook my head. 

“No this isn’t you Hotch. I know I could’ve mentioned it to you. I just –“ I hesitated before  continuing. Hotch continued to stroke my hand softly. 

“I’ve spent so long having to just deal with my emotions alone. I’ve never really had anyone who cared enough to listen, so I’ve just learnt to keep it to myself. So now I have you, a-and the team, it’s just hard to open up you know?” I explained. Hotch gently reached up and placed his hand on my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed as I leant into his touch. I didn’t realise how much I craved his touch until now. 

“I understand. But I hope you do know that you can talk to me. About anything. Whenever you need me, just come, and find me. Yeah?” I nodded slightly at his words. I could feel tears beginning to slip from my eyes again. Hotch slowly wiped them away with his thumb. 

“Thank you. For everything.” I whispered. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” He replied in soft tone, smiling at me. “I love you too much to watch you suffer alone.” His voice was low, almost at a whisper. My eyes snapped up to meet his. 

“Y-you love me?” Hotch sighed at my words. 

“I’m not expecting you to feel the same, but you needed to know that you’re loved. By no one more than me.” He explained. I just starred at him trying to process what he’d just said. I’d had feelings for hotch ever since I met him, but I’d never been 100% sure until now. Slowly, I leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. It wasn’t long, but enough for him to know I reciprocated his feelings. As I pulled away, he looked at me slightly shocked at my actions. I looked at him nervously. Maybe he didn’t love me. Maybe he was just saying to make me feel better. Shit, what had I done? Before I could regret my choice any longer, Hotch leant forward to reconnect my lips with his but this time it was deeper – with a lot more passion. He cupped my face in his hands softly, as if he was scared to lose me. I shifted on his lap, so I was essentially straddling him. I felt him smile against my lips as he placed his hands just above my hips, holding me close to him. My fingers interwind in his black hair tugging slightly. Eventually we had to pull away for air. 

“Hotch I-“ 

“Aaron. Call me Aaron.” He said cutting me off by placing his finger to my lips. I smiled at him. The smile he returned to me in that moment was brighter and fuller of joy than anything I’d seen in the past. My cheeks flushed red as I suddenly became shy, so I leant forward and buried my head in the crook of his neck. This caused him to chuckle, sending warm vibrations throughout my chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held me flush against him. We stayed like that for a while, just enjoying our newfound love for one another.

[whump-town]

The Principal of Universal Causation

No warnings (besides some adamant feelings around whether or not I like this chapter)

Chapter Three: My Best Friend

No one would ever raise a contrary argument to Hank’s belief that the reason that Hank doesn’t go to daycare is that he and Hotch are best friends. They are, of course, best friends, but the arrangement of such a delicate thing like Hotch watching Hank most days of the week is a little more complex than friendship. That’s how it started: friendship. Over twenty-odd years ago in the basement that held all three members of the BAU, when Hotch brought Derek a sandwich and the hard-learned advice that he should get a box of tissues tonight on his way home. That once the space heater kicks on it’ll do nothing but kick dust-up and clog up his sinuses.

But friendship is the foundation, it is for most good things. From friendship comes other things and that is where this lays. Within the knowledge that Hotch’s body needs the reprieve of retirement but his mind will not withstand the underestimation of it. And Derek has a preemie, a baby that remains underweight and sensitive to his environment. A preemie he’d much rather trust in the hands of his, sure, overbearing and strict, but also really just a gentle giant of an ex-boss.

And Derek couldn’t have been more right.

For as long as Hank can remember that’s just how it’s been. Some mornings he wakes up on the couch, dazed and just grumpy enough to whine until Hotch holds him, rubs his back until he’s calmed or falls back to sleep. He spends lunchtime in the park, jumping off swings and trying to make it across the full set of monkey bars. Sometimes they’ll have lunch out there, tucked against one of the giant trees and Hotch will promise an ice cream cone if he can make it all the way across the monkey bars. He never can but Hotch still hefts Hank up onto his shoulders and lets him point to which ice cream he wants when the truck makes it loop around the park.

Hank didn’t really notice Hotch getting sick. There wasn’t much of a reason to. Hotch still made him eggs and toast in the morning and cut his peanut butter and jelly sandwich into the shape of a dinosaur. They started bringing a wagon with them to the park and Hank had to ride back in that rather than be carried when his feet inevitably began to hurt on the walk back (when he just no longer wanted to walk). The stops they made on the way to the park were proper distractions, Hotch guiding his attention to a squirrel with its cheeks packed or a cloud that looks like a triangle. There is no reason for Hank to notice Hotch wasn’t eating eggs and toast too. That he was falling asleep during nap time before he could finish reading Hank his book. Their walks took twice as long because Hotch needed to stop, to lean against a tree or rest on a bench for a moment and collect his breath.

That’s how it was the day Hotch got properly sick too.

Savannah had an early shift at the hospital and Derek an 8:30 self-defense course at the academy to teach so Savannah dropped Hank off on her way in. She likes spending the sleepy hours of the morning with Hank and seeing Hotch come out in his pajamas with the print of his pillow still pressed into his cheek. The way he walks out on the porch and waves as he comes out to the car. No matter how cold it is, he always comes out to get Hank. This morning Hotch steps out with a blanket thrown over his arm and it hurts her chest to think about just how much he loves Hank. That he’d do this for them and so thoughtfully. Hank loves him so much.

“What in the world has you this awake at three in the morning?” Hotch asks as Savannah unlocks the car and he opens the door to find Hank beaming up at him. “Come ‘ere,” he lifts Hank up out of his car seat, groaning a little as they both shift around to find the most comfortable way to do this. Hank is small for his age but he’s getting heavier. But Hotch is still going to take every chance he can get to hold him.

“Thank you,” Savannah says, touching Hotch’s arm as he comes back to her door. He leans Hank down so she can kiss his head. She tucks the blanket up around him a little better and smiles at the sight of them. She can see Hank playing with the back of Hotch’s hair, his eyes just barely open as he looks at her from where he’s resting his head on Hotch’s shoulder. “Be good for Hops,” she says, poking his little foot. She looks up at Hotch now, takes in the state of his hallowed cheeks and tired eyes. “And you need to eat something,” she pokes him, the corner of his ribs. “Iron-rich. High in calories.”

“We’ll be fine.”

She’s not worried about Hank. Hotch raised Jack just fine, only a few minor scrapes and bruises. Hank comes home every day to excitedly tell her and Derek about what he did with his Hops. From the park to the bookstore to the library and even the academy to sit in on one of Spencer or Emily’s classes. Hotch will take care of her son, she knows that. She’s worried about him. The little changes she’s noticed, the things Derek’s noticed.

But he smiles in that far too convincing way he does and she isn’t sure why she was worried at all.

It’s infuriating how good he is at playing off the concern.

Derek lets himself into Hotch’s house at ten thirty, smirking when he shuts the door and hears Hotch’s tired voice calmly saying, “well I told you it wouldn’t taste good. So it’s your own fault.” He follows the sound and finds Hotch and Hank at the kitchen table, playdough spread out around them. Hotch is standing beside Hank, running his t-shirt around Hank’s mouth as the boy sniffles. “Now we know not to put play dough in our mouths, yes?” Hank makes a pitiful face up at Hotch and nods.

“He been good?” Derek asks, stepping around the scene and heading for the kitchen. He can see the mess from breakfast and shakes his head -- he’s not sure what’s gotten into Hank but he’s been a little terror. Testing them but no one can tell why or for what. He’s decided to start learning all his lessons the hard way. “Mmm, he hasn’t been very good today? Has he?” Derek picks at what he finds, some leftover scrambled eggs and a piece of buttered toast left on Hank’s plate.

Hotch huffs, using the table to ease himself down into his chair. His stiff, pained movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Derek. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he promises. “He reminds me of you when he’s like this.” Hyper and moody, clingy. He clearly wants something but he can’t figure it out so he gets angry, frustrated by little things. Savannah would laugh at the comparison if she were here but Derek vehemently denies Hank being anything like him when he’s like this. Hotch clearly disagrees.

Hank didn’t say goodbye that morning. Derek didn’t even pick up all his stuff, they were all under the assumption Hank would be right back here by two. Except they didn’t come back at two and Hank knew that was his fault.

It was a miserable start to the day, raining heavily outside. The flashes of lightning make Hank’s chest tighten, keeping him uneasy. All his emotions were too big, unfeasible. Hotch could tell something was bothering the boy but neither put their finger on it. So Hotch did his best to keep him distracted, working through raging sobs triggered by spilled applesauce and frustrated fits at his incapabilities. Usually very bubbly Hotch knew Hank was just not having a good day. He may be four but the world affects him the same. So they had a nap a little earlier than normal. Spent the day reading every book Hotch owns that’s acceptable to read to a toddler. Ate sandwiches with the crust cut off and skipped the part where Hotch fights him to eat a few carrots with it. Opting instead for cookies.

Hank knew he’d done something wrong.

He just hadn’t realized this was the punishment.

Hank hates the hospital daycare, Hotch knows that.

Hank stopped having to go after his second bout of flu in the span of one month. His mother and father finally caving to the idea that literally anywhere would be better than there. Hank hated it. The bright lights made his eyes hurt and too young to know what to say he’d spend all night crying, only making his headache worse. It smells weird in the room. The same disinfected smell his mother wears home on her scrubs – sharp and thin – harsh enough to burn his nose so he’s learned not to press his face into her clothing until she’s changed. To give her a wide berth until she’s showered off the heaviness of the hospital and smells like home again. Safe and warm.

The toys are for babies and the books are too. Their blocks don’t stack and he has to share with the toddlers who stick them in their mouths and scream vicious murder wails if he tries to maintain he should be rightfully allowed half of them.  The books are 95% pictures and the words are too easy. They aren’t allowed to play outside and even though Hank has a nap-time every day at the same time he can’t seem to wind down enough to take one at the hospital. The room is wrong. He feels contained and squished. It’s just not the same as being with Hotch.

He hasn’t been back here in ages.

It’s typically a last resort. Uncle Spencer will take him for the day before this becomes the only option left.

But nobody wants to watch him anymore.

He was bad.

Savannah and Derek know they need to come up with something better than the arrangement they have. Hotch is going to maintain he can keep watching Hank and he probably can but not everyday, not like he has been. Hank also can’t be sent to the hospital daycare, that’s obviously not the right answer either. Savannah can’t stand to see her baby shutting down. He’s confused about what’s happening. Big tears fill his eyes when she gets off work every day and he goes straight to her. He’s timid where he’s always been outlandishly bold, secure. He’s a bright happy boy but every day she comes down here to watch him and her heartbreaks. Hank tucks himself into a corner with books he brought from home. The staff tells her he’s polite but unwilling to play with the other children. Won’t even talk to the staff besides quaint “yes please” and “no thank you”. She draws the line when he won’t even read. He just curls up on his sleep mat and watches the other kids.

“Come with mama, baby.” She squats down in front of his mat, pulling his blanket off of him and picking him up. He goes with her, not fighting it. He’s not sick. The thought had hit her dead-center when the day-care staff pointed out his behavior. Sluggish and listless. Listless – that’s never a word you want to associate with such a small child. Not one she could imagine could be used to describe her baby. The baby that kicked and squirmed in her body for months, tap-dancing over her bladder. The baby that squealed with loud laughter watching his father do silly things. That was trying to walk way too young. Not her baby.

She understands something about her husband’s family -- they’re all just as much of a pain in her ass as he is. They have these terrible ideas about how families should function (that they should go months without speaking on the basis of possibly annoying one another) and how one should be presented –which is the current problem – (as if any one of them would care that Hotch hasn’t shaved in days now and wears oversized leisure wear after the scare he gave them).

She knows Hank gave Hotch a run for his money last week. Hank being fussy last week had not been the deciding factor in why they had kept him away from Hotch this week. Somehow this information just hadn’t been translated over to Hank.

“Do you wanna go see Hops?” she rubs her hand up and down Hank’s back. Trying to get some sort of reaction out of him but he just shakes his head, holds her neck a little tighter.

Hotch has managed to mostly get around telling them the rather embarrassing story of how things ended up this bad. He smacked his head on a coffee table so he doesn’t remember the tiny details about what he’d been talking about with his therapist. He can’t remember much at all. The exchange was the same as always as he was leaving Dr. Suander’s office. He shook her hand, and they agreed to another appointment.

He can remember stepping out of her office, he made it to the beige carpet she has on the other half of her office – the exit. He still goes out that way even if he isn’t technically one of her patients. He made it that far before the vertigo got him. In his defense, he’d felt awful for long enough he hadn’t known the difference between dangerously ill and, well, what he’s grown to think of as normal. Dr. Saunders called an ambulance, knowing whatever this was probably had to do with his heart, and saw him to the hospital. Had the staff call Derek first because she knew Aaron was likely on his way to get Hank and Derek and Savannah would need to be notified sooner. She called Dave herself – even if it felt like a HIPPA violation as she did it. Aaron isn’t a patient. He’s complicated. Dave is their friend. Besides, they’d already had the conversation about death. Aaron’s decisive lack of fear of what comes after.

He is afraid of what his family will do.

Now he’s captive in the hospital and subjected to exactly what they’d like to do – smother him. He can’t leave the hospital. His heart is weak, always has been, and until his concussion heals more and his heart rate is controlled he’ll be here. He could sign himself out AMA but even he’s not stupid enough to do that. Savannah has tried to convince him to go downstairs and see Hank. She knows they miss each other. Hotch asks about him every time she goes up there but Hotch won’t go see him. He’s roughed up, black-eye less swollen but still hurting. Afraid the wheelchair and the stitches will scare Hank but Savannah knows better.

Sometimes, she’s learning, mothers really do know best.

Hotch is sleeping, something he’s finding it impossible to fight. The drugs that they give him keep him rather sedated, his heart can’t handle the stain so he’s sleeping to try and give it time to heal. Even when he’s slept, after two or three naps and eight hours of sleep at night, he’s still exhausted. Barely able to keep his head up, propped up by the head of the bed is raised and pillows keeping him upright. He blurs in and out of conversations, unable to hold them so he just listens.

“Get up.”

He grunts, wincing at the sudden light that fills the room. The sun hits him, makes his skin hot within seconds. “What’re we doing?” he asks, slowly working upright. Emphasis on slowly, it’s rather embarrassing everytime he ends up leaning over the railing gagging as vertigo and nausea get the best of him all because he’s moving from laying down to sitting up.

Dave’s standing at the end of the bed, a hat still pulled over his ears from where he’s come from outside. He’s shedding his peacoat, settling it over one of the chairs in the room. “Taking a walk.”

“Where?”

Dave just stares at him. You know, for a group of people he could have fired at multiple points through-out their lives, they sure seem to think they have some power over him now. They do, of course, but mostly because he’s allowed it. No idea why that is but he has.

“Will you hand me –” the hospital is freezing but he’s got a lifetime supply of sweaters and flannels to fall back on. It is weirdly embarrassing to think about the fact that Penelope had to raid his home for clothes. He says Penelope but he knows Emily was wearing his old blue flannels yesterday and JJ a green one. Thieves, the whole lot of them.

Dave grabs the first thing he sees, a red flannel thrown over the chair next to his coat.

He’s supposed to be taking small laps everyday at least twice a day. His doctor and his physical therapist are in a debate about mobility aids. His PT is thinking of a cane, something to lean into when he’s got to go a longer way. His doctor disagrees about how effective that will be but, ultimately, he’ll get one. He can hardly get up and down the hall without needing to use the IV pole to keep him upright. He’s active as is, he needs the cane.

Getting better had seemed like an active ordeal. He’d thought he was supposed to be taking pills and going on monitored walks. Not spending days in the hospital because a simple bump on his head has fucked his whole plan over. His blood is too thin and his iron is tanked. Until those things start to improve it’s unlikely he’s going anywhere. He can hardly make it to the bathroom in the morning without stumbling – using his IV pole to keep himself on his feet.

“Where are we going?”

The answer is down the hall to the vending machine where Dave saw Rolos yesterday on his way out, it’s just happenstance they run into Savannah.

“Look,” Savannah jogs Hank in her arms, rubs her hand on his back. “Hank, baby, look!” Hank sniffles in but lifts his head up to see what she’s pointing at. Just at the end of the hall, Hotch is leaning against the wall while Dave fights for his Rolos. Hank uses his little fists to wipe at his face, “Hops?”

Savannah nods, “it is Hops. Don’t you wanna go say hi?” She puts him down on the ground but he doesn’t rush over. He just looks up at her.

“Hey.” Hotch straightens up, waves at them from down the hall. “Hey buddy.”

Hank’s lower lip trembles, his eyes filling with big tears.

Hotch pushes himself forward, on unprepared and unsteady legs, but Dave grabs his arm before he can fall. He’s pulled backwards, down into a chair despite how badly he wants to move on. Move forward, to Hank looking at him with big tears in his eyes.

“Savannah?” he’s moving, leaning over himself to press down on his chest like it’s an open wound. It feels like it. He can feel the warmth of his blood spilling out of his knuckles. It just hurts. “Hank?”

Hank looks between them, caught between Savannah and Hotch and not sure what to do.

“Go.” Savannah pushes Hank forward and he gives a wobbly little sob before running towards Hotch.

He runs right into Hotch’s legs, needing immediate contact even if it’s not into Hotch’s arms. “Come here,” Hotch tugs him up, both of them fumbling to get closer. Hank climbs up into his lap and Hotch hugs him tight, cups the side of his little head and kisses Hank’s head. Hotch holds him as tight as he can, surprising himself when he starts to cry too. “It’s alright, buddy.” It makes his chest hurt in an unfamiliar way to feel Hank crying, his little chest shuttering as he pulls in breaths. “Shh,” he rubs Hank’s back, “easy, buddy, easy.”

Hank is, of course, the most natural medicine to this whole situation. The thing that puts him back on his feet.

Hank can’t not spend time in daycare but he doesn’t have to spend nearly as much time as he has been.

“Slow,” Hotch reminds him. “Don’t get so ahead of yourself. We’ve got a ways to go.” Hank loves wandering the halls and, as it’s becoming their new dynamic, Hank has to be reminded not to walk so quickly. It used to be the other way around. Hank clutching as many of Hotch's fingers as he could in one hand and stumbling on unsteady legs. Now it’s Hops and Hank and the IV pole they can’t seem to shake.

“Hops!” Hotch isn’t sure he’ll ever stop feeling elated everytime Hank turns to him with that wide merth in his eyes. “Hops, look!” Hank could care less about the changes in their dynamic. He’s thrilled to watch Hotch in physical therapy. The other PTs downstairs love him and he plays with the assortment of inflated therapy balls while Hotch is talked-through the proper way to use the cane they’re insisting he use. Another tool Hank is infatuated with. They keep a big book of designs and no one can agree with what pattern/look he should go with.

Emily loves the sleek black one, very badass in her opinion.

Savannah and JJ like the wooden one.

Derek and Hank side with the one with the flames on it.

Jack likes the red one, harlot red.

Hotch feels like medication should solve this problem. He’ll be stronger and then he won’t need the cane. Evidently, that’s just not the case. But at least he’s going home now. That’s something.

[alisonsfics]

Secret Santa🎄

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: “Omg spencer and secret Santa!!” - @wesleeporstudy

Word Count: 1.9k

You walked into JJ’s office. The team was doing a secret santa exchange for the holidays. JJ had volunteered to be in charge of picking who each person’s secret santa was.

“Hey JJ, I’m here for my assignment” you said, jokingly acting like JJ was your teacher. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N” JJ repeated while scanning the list for your name. You waited patiently as she found it. “Oh here it is, you are Derek’s secret santa” she told you, smiling.

“How much do I have to bribe you to find out who my secret santa is?” You asked her, smirking. “Not going to happen, Scrooge. Stop trying to ruin the holiday spirit” JJ said, sticking her tongue out at you.

You laughed and left JJ’s office. You were already trying to think of gift ideas for Derek. You loved Derek and he was one of your closest friends, but you had no idea what to get him. You ran into Spencer in the hallway, as you were going back to your desk.

“Spencer! There you are” you said, lighting up when you saw him. Reid gave you a warm smile and waved at you. “I need some advice” you told him, simply. He looked shocked to say the least. “Only if that’s okay” you said, backtracking. “No, of course it’s okay. I’m just not used to people asking me for advice. Normally they ask Derek or someone” he expressed, honestly.

“Well this is about Derek. I don’t know what to get him for secret santa” you told Spencer. You hoped he would have a good idea. “Oh well umm, he’s been talking about some football game that’s coming up. Maybe you could get him tickets to go see that” Spencer suggested.

Your eyes lit up, that was the perfect gift idea. “Oh my god, Spence! That’s it, it’s perfect” you told him, excitedly. You wrapped your arms around his body. You could feel his body shake as he laughed. Then he put his arms around you. He gave you a quick squeeze and then you both pulled away.

You saw the slightest blush in Spencer’s cheeks after you both pulled away. To be honest, you weren’t sure if you really saw it. There was a part of you that was sure you had made it up.

You had the biggest crush on Spencer. You thought that everything he did was perfect. It was pretty obvious to everyone on the team, everyone except Spencer.

Spencer had been pining over you for years and just could never get the guts to ask you out.

“I should get going, I have to go see JJ” he said, awkwardly. “Oh for secret santa! Good luck, just hope that you don’t get Hotch. He’s probably the hardest to shop for” you told him, giggling. You saw Reid let out a light laugh at your joke.

“Yeah, you’re probably right” he said, and then walked past you. You had a cheesy grin on your face as Reid walked away. But, you just couldn’t help it.

-One week later-

You were sitting at your desk, filling out paperwork. You saw Morgan stand up and walk into the kitchen. Now was your chance.

You stood up and quickly walked over to Morgan’s desk. You placed the envelope on his desk and then quickly walked back to your desk, so he wouldn’t catch you in the act.

You continued doing your paperwork and acted inconspicuous when Morgan came back in the room. “Well would you look at that” Morgan said, to himself. “What’s that?” Emily asked, curiously. “My secret santa got me tickets to the game. But it’s two tickets, who wants to go with me?” Morgan asked the rest of team.

“Sorry I’m booked solid” Emily said, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t really do sports” Spencer said, causing Emily to laugh. “What about you, Y/N?” Derek asked you. You looked up from your paperwork.

“Well— ” you said, thinking about if you were busy or not. “She has plans” Spencer said, quickly. You were shocked by what he said to say the least. You most certainly did not have plans.

You spun around to face Spencer. “I do?” You asked him, raising your eyebrow at him. “Pretty boy, what are you talking about? Y/N looks as confused as I am. What are these magical plans that she doesn’t even know about?” Morgan teased Spencer.

“It’s umm— it’s nothing” Spencer said, looking back down at his book. Then it clicked, Spencer was jealous. Could it really be that Reid liked you back?

There was only one way to find out. “Reid, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to the game with Morgan” you said, hoping that would get a reaction.

Morgan smirked at you, realizing what you were doing. He walked over to you. “That sounds great, babygirl” Morgan said, knowing the nickname would make Reid even more jealous. Morgan came up behind you, and rested his hands on your shoulders.

“Can I talk to you?” Spencer asked you, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him as he walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” You asked him. “Don’t go with him, please Y/N” he practically begged you.

He was clearly jealous, why couldn’t he just admit it to you.

“Why don’t you want me to go?” You asked him, prying. “Cause look at Derek, all the girls love him. And it’ll just be you two and it’ll be like a date” he said, looking down at the floor.

“Derek is one of my closest friends, we hang out all the time. Why is this time any different?” You asked him, confused. “Cause you’ll both be alone together” Spencer said, quietly. “What are you worried is going to happen?” You asked him, trying to draw the answer our of him. “That Derek is going to make a move on you. I mean, look at you, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I’m sure Derek knows that too, so what would stop him from asking you out?” Spencer rambled. Your heart fluttered when he called you gorgeous and you could feel the butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“Derek and I are just friends. But I think you’re jealous” you told him, smirking. “Huh? I’m not jealous, I just don’t want anything to happen to you” he lied.

You sighed to yourself, apparently it would take a lot for Spencer to admit he was jealous.

“Come on Reid, we both know Derek. He would never let anything happen to me. You trust him when he’s out in the field with me, so why is this different? And you could’ve just said you didn’t want me to go, you didn’t have to lie and say I had plans” you told him, honestly.

Spencer took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to you. “What is this?” You asked him, cluelessly. “I’m your secret santa” he explained, and it clicked in your brain.

You opened the envelope and you saw two tickets. You read the tickets and saw they were to an orchestra concert.

The concert was the same night that the football game. It all made sense now. It wasn’t just jealousy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to go out with Derek, it was also that he wanted you to go out him. And Derek’s football game would get in the way of that.

You looked up at Spencer and tried to figure out the right words to say.

“You mentioned the other day that you were a fan of this orchestra that was coming here on tour. So I got you tickets” Spencer said, sheepishly. “Yeah I see that, two tickets. What am I supposed to do with the other one Spence?” You asked him, smirking.

“I was hoping you would go with me, but if you want to take someone else that’s okay too” he said, giving you a weak smile.

“Oh come on, you dork. Spencer, would you like to go to the concert with me?” You asked him, smiling. “Like a date?” He asked, hopefully. “Just like a date” you told him, smirking to yourself.

“I would really like that” he said, smiling down at you. Looking at Spencer, you felt completely lovestruck. He had that smile, the one that made your heart melt.

You thought of a sneaky plan. A smirk rose on your face. “Come with me?” You told Spencer, then turned and started to walk down a hallway that no one was ever in.

“Where are we going?” Spencer asked, cluelessly. “Shhh” you said, putting a finger up to your lips as you looked over your shoulder at him. You looked around and then stopped walking.

You wrapped your arms around Spencer’s neck and pulled him towards you. His eyes grew big, he didn’t seem to believe what was happening. You backed up until your back was against the wall.

“Put your hands on my waist” you instructed Spencer. Then, you smirked and leaned in to kiss him. His lips felt soft and tasted like chapstick. Spencer felt rigid, his hands were lightly placed on your hips, barely touching you.

You tugged on Spencer’s hair a little, as your lips moved together. “You good?” You asked, against his lips. “Mm-hmm” Spencer muttered. You pulled him closer to you, so your bodies were pressed up against each other.

Then, his grip on your hips tightened and you smirked against the kiss. Finally, you both pulled away for air.

“What was that for?” Spencer asked, breathlessly. “For finally getting up the courage to ask me out” you told him. “But didn’t you ask me out?” He asked you, confused. “Did you enjoy the kiss?” You asked him. He nodded and his cheeks flushed red.

“Then, just take the win, pretty boy” you told him, smirking and walking back into the bullpen.

“So are you coming to game with me or what?” Derek asked you, walking over to your desk, where you were sitting. “No, turns out I do actually have plans” you told him, giggling. “Did pretty boy finally give you the tickets?” He asked you.

You froze, how did Derek know about the tickets? “How did you- ?” You started to ask him. “Please, Reid has been stressing for a week, trying to find a way to give them to you. And I may have asked you to come to the game, because I knew it would make him jealous” Derek admitted.

Then, it all made sense to you. “So you were completely in on it! Oh and by the way, you’re welcome for the tickets” you told him, turning back to your paperwork.

“Wait, you were my secret santa?” Derek asked you, in shock. “Yep” you heard someone else answer. You saw Spencer walk in the room and sit down at his desk.

“Woah woah, you knew too?” Derek asked, turning to Reid. “Yeah, who do you think gave her the idea to buy the tickets?” Spencer said, ratting you out.

“Shhhhh, you weren’t supposed to tell him” you said, frowning. “Come on, you lovebirds. Stop arguing, you both should be looking forward to your date. You’ve both been in love with each other for years, and you’re already bickering as soon as you get together” Derek told you both, and then walked away.

“Thank you, by the way Spencer. It’s a really thoughtful gift” you told him, smiling. He just smiled right back at you. He was happy. You were happy. Derek wasn’t lying, you both had been waiting for this day for a while.

taglist: @reniescarlett @thelovelyrose @shyinadarkplace @azghedaheda @averyhotchner @katerinaval

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character!!

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[aubreyprc]

enough for you

part 2 of the sour series

for @eprcntiss who asked for hotchniss s7+ with the lyrics below:) if you have any requests feel free to message/ask💗💘💗💓💖

Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

But don't tell me you're sorry, boy

Feel sorry for yourself

'Cause someday I'll be everything to somebody else

ao3

-

It’s him who makes the call, letting her know she’s able to come home, that they have Doyle in custody and that they need her help to find Declan, and the moment he hears her voice it’s almost as though his anger fades away, no longer holding onto a grudge that felt more like an ulster in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that sent him all the way to Pakistan in hopes to outrun it.

“I’ll see you soon.” She says quietly and he can feel his heart beating harshly against his ribcage at the thought of seeing her again, of holding her in his arms.

“I’ll see you soon.” He replies in a similar tone, words he’d been dreaming of telling her for the last ten months falling from his mouth so casually that he almost can’t believe they’re true.

He waits, then, for her arrival, the feeling in his stomach turning from anguish to nerves, the aspect of having her back feeling almost overwhelming as he forces himself to take controlled breaths, his mind running wild with scenarios about the teams reaction to his and JJ’s lie, if they’d understand and accept or see it as a betrayal.

He always thought when he saw her again it would be earth shattering. That the painful ache in this chest would dull, that the stab like feeling in his stomach would disappear and he’d feel whole.

It doesn’t turn out that way.

He sees her the moment she enters the BAU, and all he feels is betrayal, anger, hurt. The ache in his chest doesn’t settle but rather increases, the pain in his stomach worsens and he feels almost nauseous as she stands in the door way, her dark eyes burning into his and nothing feels the way it should. The way he expected it to. And he knows she’s seen it on his face when she looks to the floor, exhaling a small breath before looking back to the team, avoiding his eyes completely as she flushes away any dream of them that she may have been holding onto from her mind.

He avoids her for the rest of the day, working quickly to save the young boy she gave up her life to protect and once mayhem is over, all that’s left is the repercussions of the last ten months for everyone. He sends her a small smile as she stands with the rest of the team and the sad one he gets back is like a punch in the gut, a reminder that there’s a conversation to be had between them, and something inside of him knows it’s over.

It was over the moment she went to Boston.

It was over the moment she lied.

Staring out of the window of the hotel room, Emily sighs. Her mind running constantly around the last ten months, about Ian, about Declan, about the team, about Aaron. About her and Aaron.

She turns to the door at the quiet but firm knock, her entire body tensing as she does, her breath catching in her chest as terror clouds over her, still not entirely over her three month ordeal with Ian before Boston. She takes small steps, grabbing her gun from the draws next to the bed and once she’s at the door, reaches for the handle, cursing the lack of a peep hole on the door as she opens it slowly, before signing in relief and dropping her head as she’s met with Hotch.

“You scared the life out of me.” She tells him, stepping aside to let him pass.

“Sorry.” He says, watching with a frown as she drops the gun back into the draw and forces her body to relax. “I… Thought we could talk?” He suggests to her, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets as his eyes flick around the room, searching for anything to look at expect for her and she swallows, accepting the end before he’d even spoken as she nods her head.

“Sure.” She smiles sadly, watching as he runs through his words in his mind before he speaks.

“You could have told me,” he whispers sadly to her and she drops her head once again. “I could have protected you, we could have figured something out-”

She shakes her head, “I couldn’t.” She whispers, looking at him and finding his hurt eyes staring back at her. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if you got hurt because of me. Because of my past. I did all of it alone because I had to, to keep you safe. To keep everyone safe.”

“We had something, Em.” He says as she looks at her, “Something great, and…” He stops himself, shaking his head as flashes of their short lived time together passes through his mind.

“I know,” she agrees sadly, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head at her apology, before looking at her and clearing his throat.

“Me too.” He whispers.

They stand in silence for a few moments, before she takes a small step towards him.

“Is this is?” She asks softly, the sad tone to her voice one he never wanted directed at him.

“It has to be.” He says, holding back the crack in his voice as he swallows the lump settling in his throat. “You’ve been through so much in the last ten months and you should be focusing on yourself right now, and…” He stops, looking at her sadly, “I can’t trust you.” He whispers, “how am I supposed to know this won’t happen again? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to settle down with you after this.”

She nods her head, accepting it and just when she thinks he’s about to leave, walk out of the door and take her heart with him, he stops, cupping the side of her face with his hand, running a thumb across her cheek before kissing her slowly, locking into memory the feel of her lips against his, and then he’s gone, the sound of the door echoing behind him as she places a finger to her lips, closing her eyes as tears fall freely from them, running down her cheek like rain as heart crumbles to pieces in her chest, the pain almost knocking her to the ground as she drops to the bed, the feel of his hand of on her cheek now feeling like the touch of a ghost.

Everything shifts after that.

He’s cold with her, doesn’t talk to her unless it’s case related, doesn’t even look in her direction unless he has to and it’s as if they were never anything at all.

She’s heartbroken, still trying to put herself back together after the events of the last year and something she’d always counted on was having him. A friend she could go to that would understand, that would relate to her in some way, his experience similar to hers and yet, she gets nothing. No support, no advice, nothing. He simply acts like she doesn’t exist and if she didn’t think that she deserved it, she’d probably say something.

But she does deserve it. He should be angry at her, it’s her fault anyway, and so she lets it slide, accepts that this is where they are right now and tries to pretend like his cold shoulder isn’t killing her.

It’s takes him almost two months to speak to her alone, to ask her how she is and as they chat, she wonders if maybe this is where they draw a line under everything and move forward, if this is where the two of them can start again.

Her thoughts are quickly proven wrong.

“I don’t care that you’re lying to your therapist.” He tells her, closing her file as her eyes snap up to his, her heart sinking in her chest at his words. “I care how it effects your job.”

She stares at him, before rolling her lips, swallowing down the hurt before looking back up.

“It won’t.” She smiles, watching as he nods his head and she clears her throat as he makes her promise him something.

As she promises, half of her thinks that maybe this is way of saying he cares, but that feeling is overshadowed by the part of her thinks this is his way of making sure she can do her job, that he doesn’t care how she is and why should he? Her mind clouds over with the idea that maybe he never did care about her. She feels used as she replays their nights together on a loop in her head, only to be brought out of her thoughts by Morgan’s laugh on the other side of the jet where the team all sit, a team she no longer feels apart of.

She finds out about Beth just four days later, overhearing Dave tease him as she walks past his office and it almost stops her in her tracks, only to be hurried along by Penelope who walks behind her.

It’s at the marathon that she meets Beth for the first time, and with jealously she watches him be open with her around the team, kissing her softly as she cups his jaw with a smile, resting his hand around her waist while they talk to Dave and Morgan and as she watches him place a kiss on her head before grabbing Jack she realises that they were never like that. He wanted them behind closed doors, a secret that should never be spoken of, keeping her at arms lengths unless they were confined between the four walls of hotel rooms or her apartment. She turns away with a deep breath as it hits her in full blast that he did use her, and maybe if everything with Doyle didn’t happen, he would have dropped her anyway.

She tells him she’s leaving at JJ’s wedding, the two of them alone in Dave’s living room as he stares blankly at her.

“You’re leaving? The BAU?” He questions and she laughs.

“The country, actually.” She tells him and his eyes widen. “Clyde offered me a job at Interpol. One I can’t say no to.”

“I don’t understand?” He frowns, “I thought you found your footing here again? I thought you…”

“I did…I have. But, it’s different.” She tells him, “Nothing feels the same anymore.”

“You need to give it time-”

“I’ve given it time, Aaron.” She tells him sadly, “I need to do this.”

“Why?” He asks, “You just got back-”

“I can’t sit and watch you and Beth play happy families and act like it isn’t killing me, Aaron, okay?” She confesses, “It’s too hard.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I don’t need you to be sorry,” She smiles, “I’m happy you’re happy I just… I need to go and find mine.” She tells him and he looks at her, “I can’t stay here…I need a fresh start. Nothing feels right here anymore. Not with you. Not with them. Not with me.” She finishes quietly, looking to the floor.

“I’m sorry-” He says again but she cuts him off, holding her hand up.

“Stop. It’s okay.” She tells him, smiling before walking away, his eyes burning a hole into the back of his skull as she holds back her tears.

She leaves that next week, and he doesn’t even give her so much as a goodbye as the team see her off at the airport, Penelope looping her arm through her own with a smile before leading them away, not knowing that Aaron’s absence left her heart shattered on the airport floor.

It’s only when she meets Andrew Mendoza that she learns nothing that happened was her fault. That how she felt was valid and that Hotch should be been there for her, but wasn’t, that he had no right to make her feel the he did but most importantly she learns that she deserved better from him.

Andrew is sweet, he treats her well and respects her, makes her smile, laugh, buys her flowers and takes her on dinners. He shows her off to his friends and gushes about her to his family. He loves her unconditionally. Proud to be hers. Proud that she’s his.

(Something she isn’t sure Aaron ever was)

And so on a winters night, when snow falls onto her bedroom window, the sound of those three words being whispered into her hair as she lays in his arms, she smiles and for the first time, repeats them to someone she knows is the last person she’ll ever tell them too.

He comes back for Dave’s wedding, something he’d always promised his old friend he would do, and as he looks around the room he hopes to see her, to fix what was broken between them so long ago.

He wonders if they can fix it. If he can fix it. Take back all the things he did. Apologise for how he treated her, how he made her feel.

He hopes he can.

Those hopes, however, are crushed almost immediately when he sees her laughing with man he isn’t sure he’s ever seen before as she curls into his side, him still talking quietly to her as their smiles widen, their happiness hitting him like a harsh wave.

She turns her head slightly, before spotting him, and he feels sick that the mere sight of him is enough for her happiness to evaporate, her smile replaced with a sad expression, one that causes the man she’s with to follow her eyes, his expression darkening as they make eye contact. He notices the man move slightly before she grabs his hand, shaking her head as he looks at her and smiles to him, entwining their fingers together and it’s then he wishes he’d listened to Jessica and not showed up, sent Dave his condolences and a congratulations over the phone like he’d originally planned.

Dave grabs his attention then and he puts on a fake smile and hugs his smile old friend, pushing her to the back of his mind, but not for long, because an hour later he finds himself watching her again. Watching her dance with him, (Andrew, he learnt, when Dave had spoke of him) her happiness radiating off her body as the man smiles at her.

He watches them all night, the way they’re so clearly in love, how he shows her off, makes her blush, kisses her, touches her gently and every so often catches her staring back at him, before she’d look away, turning back to face Andrew, who rests a hand on her lower back.

He’s stood outside sometime later, enjoying the D.C air he didn’t realise he missed until he stood in it.

“Hey.” She says from the door, stepping out into the cool air to join him, drink in hand.

“Hey,” He smiles as she stands a mere three feet from him for the first time in years and god how much he wishes he could reach out and touch her. “It’s been awhile.” He says.

“Yeah well,” She laughs, “You did fall off the face of the earth.” She adds with a smirk, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Last minute decision.” He explains and she nods, sipping out of the champagne flute as she looks around the garden.

“He treats you well?” He asks because he has to. He has to know if she’s happy.

“Who?” She asks, looking back at him.

“The man you’re here with… Andrew?” He asks, watching as her face softens at the mention of him while she nods.

“He does.” She says with a smile that clenches around his heart.

“Good.” He tells her, “You deserve it.”

And she does, more than anyone he’s ever known.

“Yeah,” She whispers, “I should get back.” She says.

“Yeah,” He nods, “It was good too see you, Emily.” Hotch says and she nods, smiling up at him.

“You too, Aaron.” She says, “Don’t stay away so long next time.” She teases, before walking back in, smiling at Andrew as he slowly walks towards her, taking her hand before throwing an arm over her shoulder and he watches them go, a tear falling down his cheek just as an echo of her happy laughter hits his ears and he smiles sadly, wiping his face.

She finally means everything to someone, and how could he mad at that, when it’s all he’s ever wanted for her?

fin

[spacedikut]

how to ask a girl out ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: elle sees an opportunity to teach spencer about asking a girl out. 3275 words

a/n: based on this scene. this is the longest fic ive ever written so sorry if it’s a painful read 

Spencer feels creepy staring at you like this.

There’s no other way to put it. He feels like he’s twelve again, the youngest in his Las Vegas high school, staring at all the pretty girls that get his heart racing just by existing. But you’re more enchanting than those girls. He could watch you do anything, he thinks, because no matter what you’re doing you look picture perfect, like you don’t have a single bad angle.

Spencer still has the social skills of twelve year old him, though. Especially when dealing with cute people.

“You know,” The voice makes Spencer jump, “If you stare long enough, she just might notice.”

Elle is smirking with her arms crossed, shooting Spencer an incriminating look. He tenses.

Seeing his discomfort, Elle relents, “I’m teasing, Reid.” He visibly relaxes against the door frame he’s half hiding behind, half leaning against.

“I’m not trying to be weird.” He mumbles. Elle thinks he sounds like a kid that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I know you’re not. Have you… spoken to her?”

You’re somewhat new to the unit. Some kind of assistant to JJ who joined several months ago (three months and three days, if Spencer counted correctly) (he did), which means the team don’t see you that much, just enough that you’ve been the topic of discussion a few times. It doesn’t help that JJ sings your praise, and Hotch recently revealed you made yourself available for babysitting his new-born if he ever needs it. Every time someone mentions you, it’s followed by some kind of compliment. Everyone loves you. Spencer has said all of five words to you, and he’s smitten.

“Hi. I’m Spencer. A doctor.”

When you were introduced you didn’t pay him much attention. He can’t blame you, it was overwhelming for you – being introduced to a whole bunch of FBI agents and then thrown head-first into sorting cases for them. But Spencer paid attention. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Derek’s caught him staring one too many times, but it isn’t Spencer’s fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You enter the room and Spencer’s attention is pulled to you, like a magnet.

Derek thinks it’s time he made a move. Spencer agreed and maintained that confidence for all of fifteen minutes, until he heard your joyful laugh dance down the hallway and his tongue felt too heavy to form words.

That’s when Elle noticed.

Across the room, you’re laughing at something Derek said with JJ. Seeing you smile makes Spencer smile, and Elle nudges him.

“Have you considered approaching her? Rather than, you know, watching her from afar like she’s prey?”

Spencer huffs, “You think I haven’t tried?”

Every time he’s moved to start a conversation, he finds himself unable to complete a single sentence. After he says hello, then what? He dies?

Elle breathes through her nose in frustration. “She’s a nice girl. I’ve spoken to her a couple of times. She mentioned the other day she wants to visit the local museum, since she just moved and hasn’t really explored yet. Shame no one is available to accompany her, right?”

“Are you implying something?”

“Yes.”

“I-I don’t. I can’t-“

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Spencer’s always admired Elle’s ability to be blunt and fearless. But he isn’t Elle, Elle isn’t him, so to him it doesn’t feel like he simply chooses to pussy out of talking to you – it feels like he’s physically constrained. Like he’s fighting against the tide of the ocean to reach you, and he keeps getting pushed back, further and further away from you.

Elle’s eyes shift between you and Spencer, like she’s watching a tennis match. “Just go up and ask her. It’s that simple. If she says no, she says no. No big deal!”

Spencer shakes his head, “I can’t do that. It’s Y/N! She’s-she’s-“

“A normal human being. You know, like you and me? The second you start putting people on pedestals is when things start falling apart.” She pats him on the shoulder as encouragement, “Have some confidence, Reid.”

And she walks away, as if just telling him to have some confidence will make him suddenly have the courage to whisk you off your feet.

He wishes he could whisk you off your feet.

+++

The paperwork is never ending. Times like this, Spencer considers recanting his stance on technology – maybe having everything on an online database would be a good idea. The stacks upon stacks around him would agree.

A paper ball hits the back of Spencer’s head.

He turns, slowly, and Elle gives a wave from her desk. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can I… help you?”

“Yes, you can.” She nods to the paper on the floor, “Read it.”

He leans and grabs the ball from the floor, opening it with furrowed brows.

Step 1: Actually talk to her.

Suddenly, Elle is standing right next to him, looking all-too-pleased with herself. She leans over him.

“What does this mean?”

“You wanna date Y/N? Talk to her. That means marching right up to her pretty little face and saying more than, like, a few words to her. You need to have a conversation with her to let her know you’re interested.”

Elle’s clearly confident in her plan, but it seems she’s forgetting an important detail – this is Spencer that she’s dealing with. Not Derek, who can charm anyone out of anything (or into anything), not Hotch who, when he wants to be, is the smoothest criminal ever. Not even Gideon, with his soft eyes that make anyone that stares into them feel safe. He’s Spencer Reid who, according to one guy, looks like a pipe cleaner with eyes.

Spencer’s hesitant to take any of Elle’s advice.

“What would I… say to her?” He asks. If he does talk to you, what does he even say? Do you even want to talk to him? What if you immediately hate him and JJ beats him up? She could do it. He’s seen her guns.

Elle looks at him incredulously, “Reid! C’mon! Anything! Ask how her day has been, if she had a good weekend, are there plans for this weekend… Literally anything.” Spencer gives a look of distrust, “You’ll know if she’s interested, trust me. She’ll reciprocate. If she doesn’t, she’s not up for it, and there’s your answer without even asking her out.”

At that moment, you and JJ appear from thin air, whispering to one another with your arms full of files. Both Spencer and Elle’s watchful gazes follow you right up until JJ’s office door is clicked shut and when you can only slightly be seen through the blinds, Spencer still stares. Elle hits him over the head.

“Pay attention!”

“She’s distracting!”

“She walked by you, not gave you a lap dance! Focus on the plan!”

With a sigh, he looks back to the crumpled paper in his hands. “What’s step two?”

The paper’s yanked out of his hands and Elle furiously scribbles something before handing it back to him.

Step 2: Make her laugh.

“I can’t do that.”

She scoffs, “Reid.”

“People laugh at me, Elle, not with me. The only way she’ll laugh is if I make a complete fool of myself and when I do that, I’m running away and never looking back. You’ll never see me again.”

Sick of the self-deprecation, Elle leans close to Spencer’s face and begins to whisper menacingly.

“Listen, bud,” She threatens, “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You’re young, you’re inexperienced – that’s why approaching Y/N is so terrifying. Not because she’s out of your league, or you’re not good enough, it’s because you’ve never done this before. It’s simply a fear of stepping out of your comfort zone, so stop being so hard on yourself.”

Spencer isn’t sure how to respond, silently wishing something could get him out of this situation. He’s not used to being complimented so ferociously.

God answers his prayers. In the worst way possible.

“Incoming. Make her laugh, Reid.” Elle says, slinking off back to her desk.

Spencer quickly realises you’re approaching and his hands grip the armrests of his chair. He’s not ready for this. He wishes he had time to prepare, maybe google how to woo a woman, but you’re in front of him, all precious smiles with a manila folder in your hand.

“Hi, Doctor Reid.”

Your voices sounds like heaven. He can’t help but think, despite only listening to classical music, he could listen to your voice and only your voice if given the option. It’s like honey, sweet and smooth, and something inside him stirs. Everything about you is lovely.

He clears his throat and nervously wipes at his nose, “Hey. What can I do for you?”

“I was told to bring this to you,” You hand him the folder, “And JJ wanted me to check up on you. She said you’ve been working non-stop and that you probably consumed your bodyweight in coffee with enough sugar to give a small army diabetes. My guess is she wants to check your heart is still beating.”

Spencer laughs at that, which encourages you to giggle along. He freezes when he sees the way your eyes scrunch and smile widens when you laugh – he’d only seen it from a distance, up close it feels intimate and causes his throat to tighten. When your laughter dies, you’re left with an awkward silence as he stares. You shuffle your feet.

Elle is trying to look like she isn’t paying attention, but in her head she’s screaming at Spencer to say something!!!

“Sorry for disturbing you if you’re – um – if you’re busy.” You gesture to the mess on Spencer’s desk, and it’s then that he realises how his silence could’ve looked – to him, you quite literally took his breath away, but to you? He’s a weirdo that is still holding the file mid-air and hasn’t said a thing for far too long.

“No! No,” Spencer brushes his hair back, “Thank you for the file. JJ’s right, I should probably take a break-“

He looks up then. This is his chance, right?

“Are you busy right now?”

You glance around and your eyes find JJ’s office, where she’s signalling for you to come over, “Yeah. Sorry.”

It feels like a punch in the gut – is this rejection? – but there’s a look of sadness that crosses your face. Your mouth falls at the edges and your brows slightly crease – do you wish you weren’t busy?

If Spencer didn’t feel like he’s seconds away from vomiting, he’d ask. Maybe. That sounds a whole lot like flirting and he isn’t sure he can handle that.

You quickly leave, not before you tell him to look after himself (his heart swells), and the second you’re far enough away Elle is marching right over and throwing the paper at him, again, even though she’s standing right in front of him.

“She rejected me.”

“Yea- wait, what?” Elle starts to celebrate, but stops at her words, “No she didn’t. Did we see different things?”

“It sure felt like rejection. Felt weird.”

“That was the perfect chance to ask her to go out after work or maybe on the weekend, but, in your defence, that’s a Derek-level response and we’re not quite there yet. Step three, go.”

Spencer unfolds the paper ball begrudgingly, wondering if any of this is actually worth it.

Step 3: Get JJ to back the fuck up.

Spencer laughs.

“Either you tell JJ you like her assistant and ask for her help, or you tell JJ you like her assistant and that she needs to stop using her so much.” Elle sounds matter-of-fact and confident.

“You want me to tell JJ to stop giving her assistant work?” Spencer asks, face scrunched.

With a shrug, Elle says, “Or you could ask her to help you. She knows the most about Y/N.”

Looking up to JJ’s office, he realises how true Elle’s statement is. JJ knows you better than anyone else here, you’ve quickly become good friends, and JJ wouldn’t lie to Spencer about you if it involved his feelings. He trusts JJ like that.

But then you throw your head back in laughter, a hearty laugh that JJ follows with her own tinkling chuckle, and Spencer is reminded of the sinking feeling he’s had when he’s been rejected before. The emotional slap in the face that causes you to lose all confidence. In his head, he rationalises that attempting to ask you out is pointless. You won’t like him, scrawny profiler who follows his team members like a lost puppy, the guy unable to maintain eye contact for more than four seconds. The logical side, however, the side that runs the show when Spencer is on a case and hides his feelings, tells him he has nothing to lose. Morgan would be proud of him, not ashamed, because Spencer had the guts to ask someone out – Spencer! Elle would understand and tell him something about learning for next time, and the rest of the team wouldn’t really care.

He has nothing to lose and everything to gain. A date with you? A relationship with you? That’d feel like winning the lottery. It feels more likely than winning the lottery, too.

Then Morgan walks past him, more like swaggers, all good looks and charm and everything Spencer doesn’t have.

Spencer decides he’ll save himself the rejection.

+++

JJ gets involved without Spencer realising. He connects the dots on the way back to Virginia, after a case in which you were brought along instead of JJ.

There was a “family emergency”, apparently, after the debrief and right before take-off. Although it wasn’t your first case, it was your first time travelling with the team. When you pad in, sparkling eyes gliding all around the jet, Spencer zeroes in on the gruesome scene photos to avoid being caught staring.

You fit into the role flawlessly. It’s like you were born for the part, effortlessly slipping into the job of communicator between the team and the police force, standing fearlessly in front of the press as they piled on the pressure.

In the conference room where the team set up, he noticed you actively try to stay out of the way whilst simultaneously help in any way you could. You offered coffee every two hours (Spencer counted), cleaned up any and all rubbish the team left around – burger wrappers, useless post-it notes – and mothered the team by reminding them they need breaks, too.

At the hotel, you jokingly poked Spencer in the shoulder and said, “No more coffee for you. You’ll get a sugar rush and won’t be able to sleep.”

“Like a toddler?”

“Exactly like a toddler. Straight to bed for you.”

You grinned at eachother before you separated to go to your rooms. Around three am, Spencer instinctively went to make himself a drink but stopped and thought of you. He decided for that night, just that night, he could get a somewhat decent amount of sleep.

Now, on the flight home, Gideon pauses before his move in their third game of chess to stare at something behind Spencer’s shoulder. When he notices, Spencer turns to see what has his mentor’s attention and stutters when it’s you. You, looking like you’re straight out of a cheesy romance movie when you push your hair back while reading your book.

Gideon switches from staring at you to staring at Spencer.

“She’s a pretty girl, huh?”

Spencer knows where this is going.

“Elle told me you’re sweet on her.”

“Elle shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Elle has been watching you two the entire case.”

“Elle-“

Gideon clears his throat, making Spencer finally make eye contact, “You scared? Worried?”

“About what?” Spencer asks.

“Rejection. If she’ll laugh in your face, say something about never wanting anyone like you.”

Sometimes, Spencer is terrified of Gideon’s ability to read people. He swears he has this inhuman ability to take a peek into people’s minds, read their most intrusive and negative thoughts, and confront them about them. Like he’s doing to Spencer now.

“Something like that, yeah,” Spencer murmurs. He shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s your move.”

“I know.” Gideon nods to you, making Spencer look again, “Don’t you think, in twenty years’ time, you’d want to look back at this moment and be glad you asked? No matter the outcome? Rather than wondering if she’d said yes, asking all kinds of what-ifs…”

“You’re telling me to ask her out?”

Gideon gives Spencer a smile that fills him with confidence. He doesn’t know what it is, but he trusts Gideon with his whole life. If he tells him to go for it, then he should go for it, right?

“I happen to know the Virginia museum is having a deal on tickets if you order them online. Might be something to look into.” He sounds borderline smug now.

With one last look to Gideon, he stands and slowly waddles to the chair opposite you.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, a hand gently resting on the back of the empty seat. You startle slightly at the unexpected voice, but gesture for him to sit with a smile.

“How are you feeling?” You wonder, squinting slightly as the sun shines in your eyes. It makes them sparkle, and Spencer has never understood wanting to drown in someone’s eyes until that moment.

“Just glad the case is over. You did a great job, by the way, filling in for JJ last minute.” Spencer is surprised that his voice doesn’t crack or stop completely.

You beam at the praise, “Thank you. JJ’s got some big boots to fill, even if it’s for one case.”

He shrugs and pulls a face as if you’ve said something ridiculous, “Don’t sell yourself short. When she realises how good you are, she’ll start taking all kinds of holidays.” He jokes.

He can’t help but grin when you laugh.

Elle passes. In the very brief eye contact they make, Elle’s eyes are wide and jumping from you to Spencer, Spencer to you. She’s sending him a message, and he bets Gideon is watching, too.

“Hey,” He starts, leaning on the table between you. You instinctively lean closer, too, which Spencer takes as a positive sign, “How would you.. like…”

He has to take a second to inhale a shaky breath and nervously push his hair behind his ears. You wait, all patient and divine, and his eyes dash around your face.

“To go to the museum with me?”

It comes out rushed and you look confused. “Huh?”

Spencer tries again, after clearing his throat, “How would you like to go to the museum with me? When we get back. As a date.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“…Yes?”

If you weren’t staring directly at him, he’d think you were making fun of him and about to unleash a nice bout of rejection.

You move one hand to lean your face against, moving in a little closer, “I would love that.”

Spencer is speechless. You would love that?

“Oh- wow. Yeah, thanks. Good.”

Who says thanks when someone agrees to go on a date with them?

You giggle.

“We’ll plan when we get back?” You ask.

“Yes. Definitely.” He nods three times.

You can’t help but bite your lip, he’s too cute, and it immediately draws Spencer’s attention.

Behind you both, Gideon turns to Elle. “Success.”

Elle rolls her head against the back of her seat and stares out the window, “Step four: Get Gideon to get the job done.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Derailed (Director’s Cut)

Elle Greenaway x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~1520

Warnings: Discussion of Spencer’s sex life, or lack thereof. Discussion of virginity as a social construct. Some suggestive dialogue, some snarky banter, and some sweetness to wash it down. It’s sexy, but also totally platonic, and it fades to black before anything actually happens.  

A/N: You cannot convince me that this isn’t how Spencer lost his v-card.  

For the “deleted scene” square on my @cmbingo​ card, written script-style and all. Picks up right where Derailed left off. 

(I almost named this Railed. Then I almost named it Deflowered. So many tempting puns.) 

[Around dusk. Hotch is driving an SUV. Morgan is in front, Elle and Spencer in back.]

Hotch: Elle, your interview has been rescheduled for tomorrow… and this time I’m driving you. 

Elle: I can live with that. 

Hotch: Local PD asked Gideon to consult on a case, and they wanted advice on media strategy, so he took JJ. The rest of us aren’t needed, so I got us checked into a motel. 

Morgan: Lemme get this straight. We have an actual night off… and we’re spending it in B.F.E., West Texas? 

Elle: They have bars in West Texas, right? 

Spencer: We just passed one. 

Elle: Then you won’t see me complaining. Drinks? Reid? 

Spencer: Are you buying?

Elle: Hell yes I am. C’mon, Morgan, you gonna come celebrate the fact that I didn’t die today? 

Morgan: When you put it that way, I don’t have much of a choice, do I? [They pull up in front of the motel and start piling out of the car.] Showers first, though. 

Elle: We can head out in like an hour. How about you, boss? 

Hotch: While I’m very glad nobody died, I am not passing up the opportunity to sleep for more than four consecutive hours. I don’t care what you do as long as I don’t get a call in the middle of the night. 

— 

[Inside a bar. Spencer and Elle are sitting at a high top, with a collection of empty glasses in front of them. Both of them are tipsy, not totally drunk but sort of giggly and loose-limbed. Spencer is using a penny to show Elle how he hid the microchip earlier. Nearby, the bartender is handing Morgan three fresh drinks, but he’s distracted, talking to a pretty woman, as he takes them.] 

[Morgan brings their drinks over to the table and sets two of them down.]

Morgan: So —

Elle: We lost you, huh? [To Spencer] Told you so. 

Morgan: How ‘bout you, pretty boy? She’s got friends. 

Elle: Oh, come on, you really gonna make me drink alone? 

Spencer: Yeah, no thanks. 

Morgan: Suit yourself. Don’t wait up. 

[Elle rolls her eyes as he walks away. Then she turns back to Spencer, who’s playing with the penny again.] 

Elle: You know I’m joking, right? I’m almost ready to head back to the motel, anyway. You should go have some fun. 

Spencer: I’m about ready to call it a night too. And honestly, that doesn’t really seem like fun for me.

[Elle watches him for a second, thinking.]

Elle: The flirting? Or the flirting with girls? 

Spencer: Hmm? 

Elle: I shouldn’t have assumed, sorry… are you even interested in women?” 

Spencer: Theoretically, yes? But more to the point, women are rarely interested in me. I’m not… like that. [He gestures at Morgan, who’s showing his new friend how to hold a pool cue, saying something in her ear as she giggles.]

Elle: It’s about confidence, Doc. Gotta be a little cocky. Not too cocky, but — 

Spencer: I don’t know how to be cocky. 

Elle: Like hell you don’t. Remember earlier? When I said you probably saved my life, and —

Spencer: — I said I totally saved your life. I remember. 

Elle: That. Cocky. It works for you.  

Spencer: I did save your life, though. That’s a statement of fact, objectively speaking. Of course I’m confident when it comes to stating a fact.

[Spencer flips the penny between his fingers a few times, then makes it disappear and pulls it out from behind her ear.] 

Elle: There’s something to get cocky about. You’re good with your hands, doctor.

[Spencer gets flustered and drops the penny, laughing at himself.] 

Spencer: That’s different. 

Elle: How so? 

Spencer: I’m not going to take a girl home and show her my magic tricks, for starters. [He finishes his drink hurriedly.] Are you ready to go? I’m ready to go. 

Elle: You’re not getting out of this that easily. 

[They both slide off their stools and pull on jackets. Elle looks around for Morgan, but he’s way too focused on the girl to notice them. Spencer makes a face. They head for the door and start walking down the block.] 

Elle: Look, objectively speaking? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass and you’re a goddamn genius. You know more than me about… well, almost everything, and as annoying as that can be — [She rolls her eyes and sighs, annoyed by her own sincerity.] — it’s impressive. Not to get all schmoopy about it, but… you’re pretty awesome, Doc. 

Spencer: I know I’m awesome. This isn’t about my self-esteem. 

Elle: So what’s the problem? 

Spencer: A random girl in a bar isn’t interested in my IQ. And anyway, it’s not… I know how to talk to girls. But I’m not about to take one home. 

Elle: Why not? 

[Spencer sighs heavily, looking exasperated.] 

Spencer: You want to know why I’m confident in my ability to make pennies disappear? 

Elle: I mean… not really, but I’m guessing you have a point. 

Spencer: It’s because I’ve been practicing my whole life. I’ve mastered the skill because I’ve had years to do so. 

[Realization slowly dawns on Elle’s face.] 

Elle: You’re a virgin, aren’t you? 

Spencer: Virginity is a social construct based on inherently patriarchal values of purity and the commodification of the female body. [Elle looks sideways at him, raising an eyebrow.] Yes, I’m a virgin. 

Elle: So, is it about romance? You want the first time to be special? [Spencer shrugs.] Hate to break it to you, but most first times are funny at best. The sooner you get it out of the way, the sooner it can be an embarrassing story for Morgan to laugh at. 

Spencer: Yeah. Great. That’s exactly what I want. 

Elle: No, really, what are you hung up on? [They’ve arrived back at the motel. Elle starts opening her door, but pauses.] You want to come in for a minute? Finish this conversation over another drink? 

[Spencer shrugs and follows her inside. She starts pouring drinks from the minibar while he continues.] 

Spencer: I guess part of the problem is the… learning curve. If I get to that point with someone I already have feelings for, that’s a lot of pressure, you know? But it would feel disingenuous to just pick up a random girl at a bar. 

[Elle hands him a glass and they sit down.]

Elle: Disingenuous? 

Spencer: False advertising. [He gives her a self-deprecating frog face.] That doesn’t seem fair to her. 

Elle: You’re telling me you don’t want to pick up a girl in a bar because you’re a perfectionist?

Spencer: Well… yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it. I don’t like being bad at things! 

[Elle laughs and then stares at her glass for a moment, rolling it between her hands thoughtfully.]

Elle: Which means you need someone who knows what to expect. Someone who’s okay with… the learning curve. 

Spencer: I mean, I know the theory, but — 

Elle: That’s something you can’t really learn from a book. 

Spencer: Unfortunately. I need some practical experience. 

Elle: You need someone you trust. [Spencer nods.] Somebody you’re comfortable with, but not so emotionally involved with that you feel like you need to impress them. 

Spencer: I guess. Yeah. 

[Elle raises her eyebrows and waits for him to get it. It takes a minute. His first instinct is to laugh, then he realizes she’s serious.]

Spencer: Really?  

Elle: Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. 

Spencer: But… why? 

Elle: You saved my life. Seems like the least I can do. I owe you one. 

Spencer: I didn’t do that because I expected something in return! You’re my teammate, and my friend, and — 

Elle: Because you know more than me about almost everything else in the world, and for once I’d like to be the one showing off. 

Spencer: That’s not — 

Elle: Haven’t you been listening? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass, and — objectively speaking — you’re pretty awesome. Besides, you’re my friend, and — [She hesitates, looking down at her glass, and the next part sounds almost painfully honest.] — my first time wasn’t great. It wasn’t with someone I trusted. And I guess if I can make sure it’s not like that for somebody else… 

Spencer: Oh. [He smiles slightly, looking touched.] You really mean it? 

[Elle rolls her eyes.]

Elle: One night only, no strings attached, and if you ever mention it to anyone on the team I will kill you in your sleep, but yeah. I mean it. 

Spencer: Not a word. 

[Elle drains her glass and straddles him matter-of-factly. He looks very overwhelmed.]

Spencer: Did you know — 

[Elle puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. He closes his mouth immediately, and she gives him an approving nod, teasing but also genuinely fond.]

Elle: You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? As long as you can follow directions and keep the statistics to yourself, I think we’re going to have some fun tonight. Now, shut up and kiss me. 

[Spencer smiles. Cut to black.]

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Smutty follow-up is now HERE! 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to be tagged in future Criminal Minds fic. 

[letarasstuff]

Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

[ssa-dg]

Walls are Built to be Knocked Down

Overview: this takes place in season 7 episode 2. You joined the BAU after the death of Emily and JJ’s departure. However when they both come back, everyone is shook up.

TW: mentions of drugs, murder, rape (it takes place in the episode). Adult themes

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Word count: 3352

Author’s note: so I have been wanting to write another short story about Spencer but couldn’t get myself to do it. Glad I got inspired by episode 2 of season 7. This is when Spencer is still mad at JJ about Emily. The unsub is the one who is neuro-divergent and is obsessed with his brother’s wife. If you have any suggestions on how to write a better Spencer Reid, I would love that. I struggle with writing an accurate Reid because he is supposed to be so smart and I’m the type of person who has been told she’s “dumb” so it’s an insecurity of mine. Give me advice if you have any just be nice. P.S. the formatting on this is so weird. I don’t have my laptop rn because it’s getting fixed and the mobile version of this app sucks lol

You and Spencer were never really good friends. You two were good coworkers and you always got along well, but it took Spencer a lot to let people behind his wall. So when you joined the team from the whit collar unit, after Emily’s death. You could tell everyone on your new team was grieving, and because you didn’t know them all that well you didn’t pry. Though slowly each member let things slide to you about their grieving. You didn’t expect that to happen but you weren’t surprised. You were always a reliable person, old friends would come out of nowhere just to talk to you about their problems, or random people in cabs, on the subway, etc. You just had that air about you, one that was dependable, nonjudgmental, and understanding. Your family called it your superpower.

So when Emily turned out to be alive and JJ and Hotch knew the whole time, the team was stunned. You didn’t fully comprehend the travesty of what they went through but you understood the pain and relief that accompanied them. Knowing they probably had 100 million different conflicting emotions swirling in them you suspected they’d be going through “it” the next months.

As JJ walked into the BAU with Prentiss talking about how she had passed all the qualifications to finally become a profiler, JJ saw Spencer come out of the elevator. “Hey, where have you been?” JJ asked him, “I wanted to do brunch this weekend”

“I had to deal with some stuff with my mom,” he flipped through the pages in a file to avoid eye contact with his friend, “have you seen Y/N?” he finished.

“Uh, she’s at her desk I think,” Spencer sped off to your desk. “He hates me,” JJ finished.

You sat at your desk looking over case files when Spencer came rushing up to you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you and looked around.

“What’s up?” You asked expecting there to be a reason he came to your desk.

“Nothing just wanted to say hi,” he saw JJ and Prentiss go into the round table room.

“Well, hi,” you laughed and followed his gaze to your two co-workers. “Ahh, I see,” you said out loud.

His head looked down at you,” what do you mean ‘ahh, I see,’?” He was obviously annoyed by your statement.

You raised your hands up in surrender, “nothing, nothing. Shall we go?” You stood up and tilted your head towards the conference room. He nodded his head.

When you guys walked in and you went to sit in an open seat next to Morgan, Spencer lightly grabbed your elbow and pulled you the opposite way and had you sit between him Emily and JJ. You just looked at him knowing what he was doing. Although you gave him a glare to indicate you didn’t like being manhandled by him, you secretly enjoyed it. You were unsure why it did it but it created a feeling in you that you were not ready to associate with your coworker. He just gave you a bit of a ‘don’t-say-anything’ glare and looked back down at the file. You rolled your eyes and felt Prentiss looking at you. You shrugged your shoulders as if to say ‘I don’t know why he just did that’.

In walked Rossi and Garcia, “look master of all things Italian, I am having a Fellini festival at my house this weekend and I must serve the beautiful food of his country.” Garcia insisted.

“Maybe you should show a Disney movie and stick with burgers,” Rossi responded, still a bit offended by the pig substitute.

“You know, Rossi, you could always give Penelope a cooking lesson,” Derek suggested.

“I could help,” you spoke up from across the table. Everyone looked at you confused, “You all act like I’m not Italian. I used to go back there every summer to visit my extended family,” you rolled your eyes and defended yourself.

“Oh my gosh that would be amazing. That would be like- that would be like the iron chef meets the BAU,” Garcia looked back and forth between you and Rossi. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you and looked at him. His scrunched up eyebrows and set jaw told you that he didn’t know that about you or maybe he forgot. You just smiled at him, and tilted your head like it was nothing.

“And we could do it at your house,” Garcia looked over at Rossi.

“I don’t have a house. I have a mansion,” he laughed.

“All right let’s get started,” Hotch instructed.

Everytime JJ talked at the round table, Reid couldn’t even look at her. He kept his gaze down and you saw the muscle in his jaw bone tighten as he clenched his it. The victims were girls who all looked the same, helping a bit to narrow down the victimology. The dump sights also helped narrow down the geographical, although nothing was ever set in stone right off the bat. Everytime Spencer spoke you could tell there was hidden meaning beneath it all directed towards JJ.

On the jet you dug in deeper into the case. You started to notice Spencer stuck close to you, as if you were an extra layer of shielding from JJ. He sat next to you and when JJ spoke he’d either look down at the files in his hands or at your files in your hand. “Dave you and I will talk to the parents.Y/LN head over with us to the police station, and get us set up. Go over what they have and talk to the detectives. Morgan and Prentiss go to the disposal sites. JJ, you and Reid to the abduction sites,” Hotch ordered. JJ gave a soft smile to Spencer and you felt him tighten up next to you, and look away from her. Her smile faded into concern and annoyance and looked at you for help. You just shrugged unsure how to help.

Once you collected all the information on the crime board at the station you helped out Hotch and Rossi at the coroner's office. Then you got the call that there was a third victim. There he burned the woman’s tongue with sulfuric acid. As you, Rossi, JJ, and Reid looked over the body. The quips JJ and Reid were throwing at each other was escalating quickly.

“— instead of dealing with it. He’s acting out,” JJ looked up at Reid as she spoke about the unsub but also meant it for Reid. If looks could inflict pain, the look Reid responded to JJ with would have seriously injured her. Spencer walked off in anger. JJ looked around for help, or maybe back up. You looked at her giving her ‘I’ll take care of it’ look and went after Spencer.

Once you caught up to him and tried to talk to him he wasn’t having it. He quickly dived into perfecting the profile and ignored all conversation about anything else. He was reinforcing the walls he built around himself.

Now back at the station, you all delivered the profile to the police force. Spencer was still not looking at JJ.

Once the profile was delivered Spencer went into the room where the BAU was working out of, JJ following him.

“Spence. Look we gotta talk about this,” JJ insisted.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he responded.

“I get it, okay? You’re disappointed with the way we handled Emily,”

“Listen I have a lot going on alright,”

“You know what I think it is, you’re mad that Hotch and I were able to hold our micro-expressions at the hospital. And you weren’t able to detect our deception,” JJ finally getting angry and defending herself.

“You think it’s about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend,” the tears beginning to well in both of their eyes, “and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“I couldn’t,”

“You couldn’t or you wouldn’t,”

“I couldn’t,” she shouted and defended herself.

“What if I started taking dilaudid again. Would you have let me?” he asked.

“You didn’t,” she answered, confused why he was asking.

“Yeah, but I thought about it,” he confessed, and hurt even more that she didn’t realize how low he actually was during that time.

“Spence,” she called out as he tried to walk away, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late, all right?” He walked away from her.

“Reid,” Emily called for him and looked back at JJ.

You followed Spencer out the door. You knew it was risky to seek him out right now but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to try and help him. You couldn’t explain the pull he had on you right now but you usually followed your instincts and they hadn’t let you down yet.

“Spencer, wait up,” you tried to catch up to his long strides.

“Are you here to tell me off, or ask me to apologize to JJ? Because if so, don’t waste your breath. I’m not going to,” he angrily twirled around to you, which made you stop yourself before running into him.

“I wasn’t — I wasn’t going to say that. I know why you’re mad. And I think the way your acting is justified, maybe a bit immature but it’s justified,” you answered.

Spencer looked confused at your response then angrily he said “why am I acting this way then? Why am I so justified?” He was testing you in some way. If you said the wrong thing he’d yell at you too, and he would build that wall around himself so high no one would ever be allowed in again. He was hurting and right now he felt like hurting others was the only way to feel like he was in control.

“You feel betrayed. You understand why Emily had to fake her death. You understand why no one on the team was allowed to know but you don’t understand why JJ was in on it and how she kept her cool. You don’t understand how she could watch your heart break over the loss of a loved one and stand there with the knowledge to save you from all your grieving. JJ is your best friend, you trust her and love her. And best friends are supposed to help take away the pain, and you feel betrayed and taken advantage of because of that,” you finished. You could tell by the look he gave you that the wall he was building was not prepared for you to hit it so hard it cracked. His face went from openness and feeling seen, to defensive and angry at you not giving him a reason to yell at you. “You want her to understand and feel the pain she caused you. which might be why you are acting out? But when the time comes you’ll forgive her because you know deep down what you need JJ and her friendship and eventually you’ll remember all she did for you. Right now you’re hurting, but the way you get rid of that pain isn’t about being mean or hurting her, you’ll need to remember your love for your friend. And find it in yourself if you can forgive her. Am I right?” You asked him, but you already knew the answer. He let out a sigh and looked down at you. He looked at you for the first time in all his time of knowing you. You understood what he was going through more so than his closest friend, and even more so than some of his teammates who had known him for years. How could he have overlooked you for so long. He quickly looked down at your lips and the tension between you two changed. The breathing between you two became heavy and noticeable. He turned quickly and stormed off.

Eventually you all caught the unsub and saved the young girl. This time on the plane though Spencer sat in the back. He spread his stuff across the table indicating he didn’t want anyone to sit there. You took the hint, and even though you had never been close to Spencer other than him using you today for an emotional defense, you felt a coldness being away from him. A coldness, you didn’t even want to know where it would lead you.

Emily walked back to him after a short time on the plane. You could tell what she was doing and thought it was a good idea. You looked at them and analysed their behaviors. You saw the shift in them as Emily laughed for a second and from the back of Spencer you saw him move in his seat to avoid the subject. Emily leaned in as she began to explain her side of what had happened. Spencer was still mad, but by the way his shoulders sloped he was more tired than angry.

You got dressed up in one of your favorite black dresses with knee high black boots and a fancy long coat. As you pulled into the parking lot, you were a bit self conscious about what you were about to do.

You walked up the steps, found the door you were looking for, and knocked lightly. You heard some shuffling around and then heard the door unlock.

“Hey,” you spoke softly as you took in Spencer standing before you. He quickly looked you up and down and smiled, “what are you doing here? I thought you were helping Rossi teach the others how to cook?” He asked.

“Well I was, but I thought my friend might need me more tonight,” you softly smiled at him. “I was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat,” you shyly asked, “or if you have plans, we can do something another time,” You looked at his attire and enjoyed the blue sport coat he was wearing, along with the colorful shirt under it. His hair was brushed with a light amount of product in it. It was like he was ready to go out.

“No, I was actually going to go to Rossi’s,” he admitted and you knew what that meant for him. It was more than going to Rossi’s, it was actually forgiving JJ and Emily.

“Well, I can take us, if you want,” you offered as you jingled your keys in front of him.

He gave a soft laugh, and nodded his head as he grabbed his stuff from his apartment.

“I just need to stop somewhere real quick to pick something up,” you added.

When you showed up to Rossi’s you were obviously late. But the smile on everyone’s face as Spencer walked in the room was worth it. You walked behind them with your arms wrapped around Derek and let everyone take in Spencer. You quickly handed Rossi, the cannoli’s you made and brought for desert.

After everyone said hello and got to cheers their wine glasses, it was time to cook. Instead of you cooking, Rossi decided you needed to help supervise. As you reminded everyone what the texture of the pasta had to be, and how the pancetta should look like cooked, you felt yourself always catching Spencer’s eyes and smiling.

“What’s that about?” Emily asked from behind you.

You turned startled by her, “what do you mean?”

“You and Reid, you guys came together and now you won’t keep your eyes off of each other. So what’s going on?” She asked.

You shook your head, “nothing is going on. I just gave Spencer a ride,” you responded.

“Uh-huh,” Emily skeptically looked at you. You rolled your eyes at her. Once you knew Emily wasn’t looking you slipped a glance at Spencer again and saw him smiling and laughing at something Garcia said. You couldn’t help but smile at them.

“I should say thank you,” you heard JJ say behind you.

You turned and looked at him, “why?” You asked a bit confused.

“You brought Spencer here, and he’s talking to me again. I can’t help but think you had something to do with that,” she answered.

“I didn’t do anything. He came to that conclusion on his own,” you responded.

“Well, either way, thank you for being there for him. I know he has a hard time opening up and trusting people,” she whispered. You nodded your head unsure how to respond. Out of everyone on the team you knew JJ and Emily the least as they weren’t on the team when you joined and had just returned.

As the finishing touches were put on everyone’s pasta you took a seat at Rossi’s big dinner table. You were used to sitting next to Garcia and Rossi. You expected the same people to sit near you but Spencer was quick to steal the seat where Garcia usually sat. You looked up at the young doctor standing over you as he placed a bowl of pasta in front of you. His smile told you everything. The weight of his anger had lifted and he felt rejuvenated. You gave him an odd look as he placed his glass of wine in the spot next to you. He just gave you a goofy face back. You ignored it, but you couldn’t help the feeling bubbling in your chest as you over thought him picking the seat next to you instead of next to the others like JJ, Emily or Derek.

You felt bloated after your meal but it didn’t really matter to you because you felt loved. With your Italian heritage, eating and sharing moments like this is where you felt most loved. This was no exception. You loved this BAU family that you were a part of. As the night went on and moved from the dining table to outside in Rossi’s backyard. You crawled into a loveseat couch and Spencer followed and sat next to you. You pulled a blanket off the back of the seat and draped it across you both. Spencer smiled in gratefulness.

“Say Grazie to the wonderful Y/N, for making and bringing the cannoli,” he announced and brought out the delish Italian treat.

“Oh my gosh I love cannoli,” squealed Garcia. Each person grabbed one and a silence fell over the group as they ate their cannoli. You couldn’t help but snuggle into Spencer a bit as the night moved forward and the talking kept going.

Slowly people left. Hotch was one of the first to go as he had to get back to Jack, then Derek and Garcia, next was JJ and Emily, and you and Reid.

The drive back to Spencer’s was filled with music theory facts, as the two of you got on the subject because you played your favorite songs playlist. One by one you each played songs that mean something to you. You enjoyed hearing the songs that made Spencer Reid, Spencer. They were all over the spectrum of music from classical to pop to indie to folk. You two sat in the parking lot for about an hour before you felt yourself yawning often.

“I should go so you can get home,” Spencer noted sadly.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” you agreed.

“Unfortunately?” His right eyebrow was raised flirtatiously.

You blushed, “yeah, I had a fun night with you.” You looked down in embarrassment.

Spencer moved to place his hand on yours. He hesitated for a second then covered your hand. “I had a fun night too,” he admitted. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Good, because I still owe you a dinner,” you added playfully.

Spencer pulled his lips in and bit them, then let them slide out into a soft smile. “I look forward to it,” he responded.

He waited at the apartment complex entrance for you to pull away.

The memory of tonight would be one you cherished for a long time.