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#criminal minds gen fic
0and0its0doctor0 · 9 months
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Heat stroke
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Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader
Summary: You are self-conscious about the scars on your arms so you wear long sleeves. And wind up getting heat stroke. Spencer takes care of you.
Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm/Scars
Word Count: 1,010
“Oh god it’s like standing in front of a blow dryer!” You exclaimed as you stepped off the plane in Phoenix Arizona. It was July and the temperature on your phone read 113 degrees. And you were wearing long sleeves. “Why are you wearing long sleeves?” Derek questioned as he stepped off the plane behind you causing you to shrug.”I’m used to it. Besides, I didn’t know we were coming to Phoenix till I got on the plane..” The lie rolled off your tongue easy enough. “Didn’t you used to live out here? Shouldn’t you know better?” Derek asked and Spencer smacked his arm. “Leave her alone.” He muttered. Thankfully everyone got busy grabbing their bags and making their way to the hotel. Once inside the hotel room you pulled off your long sleeve shirt and your eyes drifted down to your arms. They were covered in cuts in varying degrees of healing. Some dated all the way back to high school and some were as fresh as a couple days ago. It was your secret, the way you dealt with your failures and the harsh reality of the job. It helped ground you. Part of you felt like you deserved it. That had been ingrained into your head from such a young age. That you deserved pain. You didn’t deserve to feel good. At least that was what your parents told you. 
The following day you were in long sleeves again and you could feel sweat dripping down the contours of your back, a bead of it trickled down the side of your face. It was hot. You could feel the heat radiating off the sidewalk as you and Spencer questioned a witness. Your face must have been red because Spencer placed his hand carefully on your lower back and pulled a bottle of water from his pocket so he could hand it to you. “Drink.” He commanded lightly and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Yes sir.” You took the bottle and chugged half of it. “Small sips. You chug it, you are just going to throw it back up.” He brushed a curl off your cheek and tucked it behind your ear, the gesture made you smile and you leaned in to the touch on your cheek. You and Spencer weren’t officially dating yet or anything, just a lot of heavy flirting. You finished the water slowly and the two of you went back to talking to witnesses. 
When you watch TV the bullet proof vests look easy and light, like a second shirt. No one told you how ridiculously heavy they were. And uncomfortable. You tugged at your sleeves as you stood behind Hotch with your gun drawn and pointed at the unsub. You guys had him cornered. Why was your vision getting blurry? You blinked several times and wiped the sweat off your forehead with your sleeves not caring if you smeared your makeup. Spencer’s eyes were on you and not the unsub. “She’s gonna drop.” He called out and as soon as he did your knees buckled and you hit the ground. Spencer wanted to run to you but he couldn’t. They had to leave you on the ground for a few minutes as everyone subdued the unsub. Once Spencer was free he had Derek help him drag you into the shade. He carefully took off your vest and tried to cool you off by fanning you with his hand. 
Emily tossed Spencer a bottle of water and he apologized before pouring it on your face. The shock of the cold water had you sitting up quickly which just made your head spin. “Easy now.” Spencer guided you to lay back down with your head in his lap. “We need to take off your shirt. You are overheated.” He informed you and you shook your head. “I can’t.” You mumbled and he looked down at you concerned. “Look whatever you are hiding we can work with okay? We can’t work with you if you are dead. Either I get you cooled down or you go to the hospital and they cool you down.” Spencer brushed some of the hair that was sticking to your forehead back and you sighed heavily. “Fine.” 
You pulled off your shirt which left you in a sports bra and Spencer’s eyes immediately went to your arms causing you to feel extremely self-conscious. He bit his lip and helped you sit up a little so you could take small sips of water. After your 4th sip you leaned over and threw up, Spencer held your hair back. His hand rubbing circles lightly on your back helped calm you down a bit. You looked up as Hotch walked over and looked down at you. “Is she going to be okay?” He asked, looking at Spencer. “Yeah I think she will be okay. It can take just 45 minutes to rehydrate. A study by The Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research found that after mildly dehydrated men consumed just 2 bottles of water, it took under one hour for their bodies to function in a perfectly healthy and hydrated state.” Spencer rattled off the facts easily, his hand continuing to brush your hair back as he spoke making you smile a little. “Alright well she’s your responsibility now.” Hotch nodded and Spencer grinned. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He said happily. 
You sat there with Spencer talking about nothing important while he nursed you back to health. When you got back to the hotel he insisted on staying with you to make sure you didn’t have any lasting problems from passing out. That was how you wound up curled up in bed with your head resting on Spencer’s chest, his fingers running through your hair and you listening to his steady heart beat had you quickly falling asleep. He kissed the top of your head and managed to fall asleep himself. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe you did deserve love. Spencer was going to make sure you felt that love.
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CM Office Party Fics 🎉
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Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who participated. I am so happy to share everyone’s hard work. If you have a oneshot or masterlist you’d like me to add, please send me a message - new additions are always welcome.
SFW Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Inexperienced by me: Virgin!Reader has a secret no one expected, least of all Spencer. She’s a virgin… in every way.
Dancing with the Doctor by @smalltownbeautyqueen: After hearing the BAU's prom stories, Garcia decides to throw her own BAU prom.
Gift Exchange by @ssahopelessly: It’s time for the Secret Santa gift exchange at the BAU.
Secret Santa by @c-m-stuff: Reader and Spencer are together for Secret Santa.
Better for You by @incognit0slut: Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.
Clue by @pathologicalreid: A fic in which Penelope hosts a NYE party with a murder mystery theme.
Mistletoe's for Two by @andiebeaword: At the annual Christmas party, Spencer gets caught under the mistletoe by the woman he didn’t want to kiss.
More ratings and pairings below!
NSFW (18+) Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Prom Night by @foxy-eva: After everyone shared their sad (or non-existent) prom stories, Penelope decided to host a BAU Prom, giving Spencer the perfect excuse to finally ask out Reader.
Funhouse Mirror by me: SSA Reader promised Spencer he’d be surprised by her costume of the Doctor for the Halloween Party. He definitely was.
Kiss ’n Tell by me: Reader gets drunk on a night out with the girls and accidentally mimics her boyfriend’s habit of oversharing.
Unhappy Holidays by @reiderwriter: Reader runs into Spencer at holiday celebrations four years in a row, including this NYE.
Always Bet on Black by @reidmotif: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.
Never Have I Ever by me: After a case involving kink culture, Spencer is assigned to judge the girls’ game of Never Have I Ever. Later, him and Reader compare scores.
Other/Fem!Reader (SFW)
Somewhere I Belong by @0and0its0doctor0: (Hotch) Hotch has a little liquid courage and breaks the rules.
When Snorter Does the Unexpected by @alluring-andrayav: (Derek) It's Derek's birthday, and he receives an unexpected gift.
Other Pairings & Gen Fic (SFW)
All is Bright by @masterwords: (Hotchgan) After a long series of failed dates, Hotch and Morgan finally come to their senses thanks to some well-placed mistletoe.
Talk of the Town by @/masterwords: (Hotchgan) Hotch has an invite to a Christmas party at the White House and he's asking Derek to be his plus one.
October by @gaelic-symphony: (Temily) The couple spends Halloween together.
November by @/gaelic-symphony: (Temily) The couple spends Thanksgiving together.
So Just Keep Kissing Me Under the Mistletoe [AO3] by @starzzyeyed : (Hotchreid) Spencer's dreading the BAU's christmas party for many reasons; not least because it means spending time off duty with his boss.
Happy Hotch Day by @codename-mom: (Platonic) Penelope wants to cheer her boss up as he still suffers from what Foyet did to him. The team prepares a surprise for him.
It's a Piece of Cake by @/codename-mom: (Platonic) Jack is turning six and Penelope wants to do something for the occasion.
The Sweater Case by @/codename-mom: (Platonic) The FBI organizes a gala with all the agency directors in the country. Hotch doesn't want to go.
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Happy Reading!
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ok computer
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summary: where did spencer's anti-technology quirk come from?
characters: spencer reid, aaron hotchner, penelope garcia
warnings: mentions of violence
wordcount: 1.2k
ao3 link
He got knocked out in a cornfield.
That’s the first thing he remembers.
As his mind swims back into consciousness, he sees the little red light on the camera that’s focused on him from across the room, and, next to it, several laptops all set up in a row streaming different feeds. It’s horrifying, the way Hankel is using technology to spy and stalk and kill. It’s horrifying to know his friends are probably watching him right now. He feels violated and terrified and helpless.
Hours pass, bleeding into days, and he’s forced to choose a person on a screen, someone to save from their untimely death. Hankel plays Russian roulette with him, the camera picking up every click of the gun. He’s stuck in a technological hell, and despite the clues he’s left for his team, he doesn’t know how he’s going to get out of this. 
He does get out of it, eventually. And sure, the cameras helped—they let him get his messages to the team, which in turn let them figure out where he’s been taken. But more than that, the computers have caused relentless pain and suffering for everyone. If it weren’t for those computers, Hankel might not have killed all of those people. If it weren’t for those computers, the team wouldn’t have had to see Spencer die. If it weren’t for those computers… 
When he finally gets home, broken and bruised, Spencer stumbles into his living room to see his laptop open on the desk, practically glaring at him. He hobbles over to it and slams it shut, then puts it in a drawer for good measure. He wants nothing to do with it. Just seeing it gives him a sick feeling in his stomach. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want it.
At work, he puts a piece of tape over the webcam of the computer at his desk, and he ignores the entire monstrosity, leaving it turned off as he does all of his files meticulously by hand. No one questions it. They’re used to Spencer having his quirks, and for the most part, they don’t give him a hard time anymore. No one forces him to explain.
Years pass, and he continues to avoid the computer as much as possible, and one day, Penelope comes into the conference room with an armful of touchscreen tablets. 
“Welcome to the 21st century,” she says as she passes them out. “Behold. Everyone has a new tablet.”
Spencer can’t help himself. “We’ve gone paperless?” he laments, frowning.
“Fear not, Doctor of the Dark Ages,” Penelope says reassuringly. “I went old school for your anti-technology quirk. Paper files, hard copy photos. But the abacus is your responsibility.”
Spencer smiles at the file folders in front of him, grateful for Garcia’s consideration. He assumes everything’s fine, until Hotch comes to sit down next to him on the jet on the way to their next case.
“May I ask you a question, Reid?”
“Uh, sure,” says Spencer. “What’s up?”
“I’m curious why you choose to do all of your work by hand instead of using the technology that the bureau provides you. I know Garcia referred to your ‘anti-technology quirk’ but I guess I’m just wondering…where does that come from? You’re a scientist. Why are you so opposed to technology?”
A dozen answers run through Spencer’s mind. He could tell Hotch he worries computers are taking over the world, like that unsub they had years ago in Seattle. He could say it’s because he doesn’t understand how computers work. He could make up any number of reasons. 
But in the end, he decides to tell the truth.
“Tobias Hankel used technology to stalk and kill people, and then he kidnapped me and used that technology to show you what he was doing to me, and I—” He shrugs. “It’s never been the same, since then.”
“Is that why you have tape over your webcam?”
Spencer nods. “I don’t like the idea that someone could be watching me through the computer,” he mutters. “I don’t like looking at computers. I don’t like using them. It all just feels…tainted. I can’t help but associate it with him, with that entire ordeal. And I just don’t like to think about that, you know?”
“I understand,” Hotch says. “Thank you for being honest with me, Reid.”
“You’re welcome,” Spencer says quietly. “Is it…okay if I keep using the paper files?”
“That’s absolutely fine,” Hotch promises. “I won’t force you to use a tablet, as long as you promise to keep using your cell phone. We need to be able to send you information that way.”
“That’s fine. I don’t, uh, have any trauma associated with cell phones, luckily.”
Hotch flashes a rare smile. “I’m glad.”
The more time that passes, the more Spencer starts to recognize how convenient it would be to use one of the tablets the rest of his team have. He doesn’t have the ability to instantly email pictures or files or messages back and forth. He’s forced to take grainy photos with his phone. A lot of things would be a lot easier if he had a tablet of his own.
He considers that one evening as he drags his ancient and untouched laptop out of the drawer at home and opens it up. He has to plug it in before it turns on, but when it does, he forces himself to play around with it for a while. Exposure therapy, he thinks. Maybe he can get past this.
It takes almost a year. Almost a year of messing around with his laptop, of using the computer on his desk at work, of occasionally asking his coworkers to borrow their tablets for a minute to send something. And as time goes on, it gets easier and easier, until he’s finally ready to approach Garcia and ask for a tablet of his own. 
“Oh, boy wonder,” she gushes, with a huge smile on her face. She pulls a box containing a brand new tablet out of the bottom drawer of her desk and hands it to him. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Would you teach me how to use it?” he asks shyly. “I’m trying to be better at technology, but…”
“It’s a huge learning curve,” she supplies. “Of course I’ll help you.”
She spends the next few days tutoring him, until he has everything down and knows what he’s doing.
On their next case, she winks at him as everyone pulls out their tablets at the round table and Spencer joins them, no longer forced to wait for Garcia to hand him a paper file. Emily glances at him and does a double-take.
“Since when do you use one of these bad boys?” she asks, holding up her tablet. “Are we in an alternate universe? A parallel dimension?”
“Nah,” says Spencer. “I just made a choice, that’s all.”
“And it’s the right choice,” Garcia chirps. “Wait ‘til you see how well our boy genius handles the technology!”
Spencer blushes. “Thank you, Garcia,” he murmurs, quickly turning the device on and opening the crime scene photos and case notes. “Now, what have we got?”
The attention turns away from him as Garcia presents the case, and Spencer’s shoulders slump with relief. He can do this.
And he can. The case goes smoothly, they catch the unsub quickly, and Spencer is convinced it’s in part because he can work that much faster and more efficiently. He tries not to beat himself up for all that time when he was stuck in his paper files.
You did what you had to do, he thinks. And look where you are now.
No longer Doctor of the Dark Ages.
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hauntedscarecrow · 5 months
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February Seven
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Summary: In the immediate aftermath of Tobias Hankel, Spencer Reid is taken to the hospital, where his budding addiction begins to make itself known to his team and to himself.
Pairing: None/Gen
Category: Whump, Angst
Content Warning: Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Drug abuse, Hospitals
Word Count: 1.9k
***
Only one other person could ride in the ambulance with Spencer. The rest would follow in one of the customary black Suburbans. It was hard to think when the five of them stared, but in the end, Spencer chose Aaron.
The ambulance—with its sterile, wan lighting and coils of machinery—had the feel of an outer space escape pod, square pockets of highway and night sky retreating through the double door windows. Headlights and exit signs shrank into the dark as they careened along. Every so often, they switched lanes, and the SUV behind them—Derek at the wheel—smoothly followed. No sirens, as there was no longer an imminent threat to Spencer’s life.
The imminent threat was—at the time the ambulance departed—being zipped up in a black bag and loaded into a coroner’s van, with emptied pockets and a bullet lodged in its ribs. Spencer thought of that long, easy motion of the stretcher sliding through the double doors like bread into the oven, and his mouth ran dry.
“Could I have something to drink?” he mumbled.
Aaron wordlessly handed him a bottle of water. Spencer took one sip, realized how thirsty he was, and bolted the whole thing. A case of too much, too fast. Aaron eyed him with furrow of brow as he doubled over, a sharp sour lurch up from his belly into his throat.
“I need some help over here,” said Aaron.
Read the rest on AO3
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ldflow3r · 2 years
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Criminal Minds is such a good comfort show for those who crave platonic love and a supportive family dynamic. I understand why people love to ship, but I just struggle to see any sort of romantic chemistry between ANY of the main characters. They are all siblings/parental figures to me
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lightandheatao3 · 3 months
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The Bunker - Criminal Minds
Chapter 1: The Bunker
Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.
Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.
AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.
Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.
Read chapter 1 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3
Chapter 2 link
Spencer cracked his eyes open, flinching from the white fluorescent light and blinking hard against the groggy, dull ache in his head.
His mouth was dry, body heavy. A familiar wake up. He reached his hand out blindly for the relief waiting on his bedside table.
No- wait.  
His lights are all yellow toned filament bulbs, not white fluorescents.
The smell was wrong. The dull electrical buzz in the air was louder, pitched higher.
His eyes shot open wide and he scrambled to his feet.
This wasn’t home.
He surveyed his surroundings, fighting the wave of dizziness that came with standing too abruptly.
“Oh no,” he said out loud. “Nonononono…”
The room was large and square and made entirely of concrete. Up the top a small vent, too high to reach and too small for a person to fit into. A heavy door with a double walled chamber for someone to put things into without having to interact with the person on the other side. The kind you would find in a maximum-security prison cell. The whole room felt like a prison cell, a place he’d hoped to never be again. At the back of the room a small en-suit that was completely stripped bare but for a metal toilet with no seat and a sink that was bolted into the wall. There was a door that could be shut, but there was a gap under it and a hole where a doorknob had clearly been removed.
A camera. There on the roof, drilled in and protected by a plexiglass dome, blinking its little red light at him. He stared at it for a moment, then closed his eyes.
He slowed his breathing. Now was not the time to fall apart. Not now. Not yet.
Not when there were 5 of his friends prone on the ground around him, unconscious as he had been only moments ago.
Each was laid out on a thin foam mattress, the kind with no seams or springs that could be fashioned into tools.
His first stop was the door. He knew before he tried it that it wasn’t going to open, but he had to make sure. As soon as that was confirmed, he turned his attention to the people in the room with him.
He rushed over to Emily first, rolling her onto her side and checking her pulse. It was slow, but steady. He looked around at the rest of them, noting the gentle rise and fall of their chests. All alive. He sighed audibly, clasping his hands together in thanks and relief for a split second before turning back to Emily.
He gently shook her, putting his hand on her cheek in what he hoped was a comforting way. His hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the comedown. “Emily," he said gently. “Emily, it’s me, Spencer. Wake up Emily.”
After a few more repetitions her eyes fluttered, then opened. She looked up at him hazily. “Spencer?”
“Hi,” he said sadly, knowing there were only a second left until she realized the danger they were in and wanting to let her experience that second in peace.
She glanced behind him where JJ lay unconscious. He looked at her pupils. They were constricted, confirming his suspicions.
“Oh my god,” Emily gasped, her hand reaching up to clutch his shoulder. She leveraged herself against him to drag her way up into a sitting position. She rubbed at her eyes blearily, then opened them again and cast them around the entire room. “Fuck,” she breathed.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
Her eyes snapped back to him. “Are you alright?” she asked urgently, looking him over. “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “And I don’t know. I woke up a minute ago. I don’t remember how I got here. I think we were all drugged.”
She hummed in agreement. “Last thing I remember I was outside my apartment on the way home from the gym. I still feel a little out of it. God, Spencer, you look awful,” she said, putting a hand over his. “What did they do to you?”
“Same thing as you, most likely.” He looked away. “Emily, that’s Hotch over there,” he deflected. “And Derek.”
Emily looked to where he was pointing. Her expression was solemn, professionalism kicking in even in these dire circumstances. “Yeah. And no sign of Tara, Matt, or Luke. And no Penelope, thank God. Whoever did this, they’ve got a grudge against us that predates the others joining the BAU. Someone who met all of us but never had direct interaction with Penelope. This is good. If the others are free, they’ll find us.”
Spencer nodded in agreement. “This is someone with the skill to find Hotch in witness protection. If he wasn’t dead, I would have said it was Scratch. The logistics of kidnapping 6 highly trained federal agents takes an enormous amount of planning and ability. There are only handful of people we’ve encountered with the capacity to pull something like this off.”
She rubbed at her temples. Her eyes were losing the glassy sheen as the adrenaline counteracted the effects of the drugs. “I assume you tried the door?” He nodded. “I guess we should wake the others.”
No sooner than she said it, JJ stirred. They both crawled over to her. Her wake up process went much the same as Emily’s, but for the fact that the first thing she asked about was if her children were safe, before she’d come to enough to realize they had no way of knowing.
“Whoever this is likely targeted you while you were alone,” Spencer assured her. “It’s much safer to take a victim without witnesses, especially a victim who is trained to defend themselves and needs to be physically incapacitated.”
Next, they woke Rossi, who responded immediately by swearing up a storm and threatening to rip the head off whoever was responsible for this.
“Hey, Dave, it’s okay,” said JJ in a calming voice, even as she looked about to cry. “There’s nobody in here but us.”
He breathed. He nodded. He cursed again. He nodded again.
“At least I’m not alone this time,” he said with a world weariness that Spencer felt in his gut.
They had all been in situations like this before, but Rossi was barely recovered from the last time only a few months ago. Spencer still regret so deeply that he wasn’t there to help with Elias Voit.
“No, you’re not alone,” agreed Emily emphatically. “On that note, look who else is here,” she said.
“God fucking dammit,” cursed Rossi as his eyes swept over Derek and landed on Hotch.
Seeing Derek there was upsetting, but it wasn’t as jarring as Hotch’s presence. Derek still came along to the occasional social event, though less and less recently, as he was busy with the birth of his second child. Spencer personally still saw him once a month or so, though the past year their contact had been more limited to phone calls. They were all dreading having to watch him learn he’d been pulled into this nightmare, but if nothing else they could offer him the comfort of familiarity and camaraderie.
But Hotch… none of them had heard so much as a whisper from him in years. When he disappeared, he did so completely. It’s the kind of thing that would have wounded Spencer deeply under any other circumstances, but after everything Daniel Lewis aka Mr Scratch had put him through, he only ever hoped that Hotch had found every semblance of peace that life could give him. He’d missed him badly at times, but he would have rather they never meet again than have to meet like this.
They decided to wake Derek first.           
Rossi nearly got a fist in the face before Derek pieced together what was happening. Then, he put a fist directly into a concrete wall instead.
“I’m going to regret that when the drugs wear off,” he said sheepishly once he’d calmed down just a bit. “Whatever they dosed us with, they did not skimp. The comedown is gonna suck,” he said, side eyeing Spencer, who pretended not to notice.
The question and answer was the same as with the others. Do you remember anything about who took you? No. Has anyone tried the door? Yes. Derek threw a shoe at the camera for good measure, but of course it just bounced off the plexiglass and landed pathetically on the floor.
The bang of it hitting the concrete was enough to make Hotch finally stir. They all turned to face him, staring helplessly.
His hair was longer than Spencer had ever seen it. Still short, but more relaxed, skimming the bottom of his ears and starting to curl a little at the base of his neck. He was still lean, but some of the muscle had been replaced by fat. He looked just a little softer. Healthier. His face was peaceful. Spencer always remembered him looking tense, even in his sleep. His hair was streaked with grey but somehow this was the youngest Spencer had ever seen him look.
He stirred a little more, blinking at last.
Ah, there was the familiar tension creeping its way back across his face.
Rossi was the one who finally knelt down beside him. “Aaron? I’m so sorry my friend,” he said sadly as recognition flashed in Hotch’s eyes.
“I’m dreaming,” came the familiar voice. Spencer had missed that voice more than he'd known.
Hotch closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again. He looked past Rossi at the rest of them. Spencer raised his hand in a polite greeting, then immediately felt like an idiot for doing so.
“I’m not dreaming,” he said, no trace of emotion in his voice.
“I’m afraid not,” Rossi confirmed.
Hotch fixed his eyes on Rossi again, pushing himself up so he was sitting against the wall. He looked like he was staring at a ghost, trying to figure where the projector was. “When did you get so old?” he said, reaching out a hand to Rossi’s face and poking at it.
Rossi grabbed the offending hand and clasped it between both of his. “Careful. You’re no spring chicken yourself,” he joked.
“No,” said Hotch, still expressionless. “Peter Lewis is dead. This isn’t my life anymore. He’s dead. They told me he died. I saw photos of the body.”
Spencer didn’t know that, but judging by Rossi’s lack of surprise, he pieced together that the older man had likely made sure the witness protection people had passed the photos along.
“Scratch is dead,” Rossi confirmed. “Whoever did this, it’s not him.”
“This. Isn’t. Real,” Hotch insisted, the first sign of emotion entering his voice in the form of hysteria as he pulled his hand away from Rossi and scrambled to his feet. “All of you stay away from me!” he yelled, looking at each of them in turn.
JJ grabbed onto Spencer’s arm. He flinched at first, then put an arm around her and gave what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. Derek took a step towards Hotch, but Emily held him back.
Hotch backed into the corner, looking at them like a caged animal. They were all caged animals now, Spencer supposed. An unfortunately familiar role.
“Hotch,” Spencer said, surprising himself by speaking. They all turned to look at him. He couldn’t back away now. “This is real. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, but Penelope and the rest of our team aren’t here, which means they are out there looking for us. I know it doesn’t feel real. We have all been drugged and you are probably still feeling the effects. I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t real, but it is,” Spencer said kindly but emphatically.
“We’ll get out of this together,” said Emily. “It’s going to be okay.”
Hotch’s eyes were looking just a little clearer.
“Listen man, I know what you’re feeling. I got out, too, remember? I have a family and I don’t know if they’re alright. I’m right here with you. We’re all on your side. Do you believe me?” asked Derek, and this time Emily let him take a step forward.
 Hotch looked around at all of them again. He assessed them carefully. Then, he turned to the corner, putting his back to them and his hand over his face. It was the closest thing he could get to privacy and Spencer was suddenly grateful to have woken up first to process all of this without being watched.
Well, except for the camera.
They all looked at the floor and did their best to give Hotch space. It was almost a full minute before he finally tuned back around.
There was that stoic expression that Spencer remembered. All that youth and peace was gone from his face in an instant. Spencer hoped so badly that it wasn’t gone for good.
“What do we know?” asked Hotch, crossing his arms.
A moment of silence passed and Spencer wondered if the rest of them felt their hearts breaking into pieces at this cruel facsimile of a reunion.
“Why don’t we start with the last thing each of us remembers?” said Emily, stepping up beside Hotch and looking back at the rest of the room, two natural leaders doing what they do best.
Each of them recounted the details they knew before they woke up in this room.
They had been going about their lives, nothing special. The only common thread they could find was that each of them was alone when their memories stopped.
Derek had been at a picnic with his family and the last thing he remembered was leaving to use the park bathroom. Emily on her way back from the gym. JJ heading out to get groceries. Rossi walking home late from a bar.
“I was driving to work,” said Hotch shortly.
“We’re going to need more detail than that if we want to put together a timeline,” prompted Rossi. "Where do you work?"
Hotch pursed his lips. Spencer could see him strategizing in his head. He wasn’t back in their lives by choice. Spencer understood.
He didn’t get it back when Gideon left, but he got it now. Once you let people in the door, it can be impossible to fully extricate them. Hotch’s old life was filled with trauma he was trying to leave behind and the team were living representations of that past. Spencer couldn’t bring himself to be hurt by the other man’s reticence.
“A legal consultancy in a small town in Kentucky,” he said reluctantly, like divulging the smallest part of his personal life meant inviting the entire FBI right back into it.
“That’s an 8 hour drive,” said Derek. “No wonder you were so out of it compared to the rest of us. You must have been dosed multiple times to keep you under that long.”
“I think you’re right,” he said. “I’m still a bit foggy, if I’m being honest,” he admitted quietly. “What about you, Reid?”
Spencer blinked. “I feel fine.”
“No, I mean what’s the last thing you remember?”
Oh. Right. “I went to sleep in my apartment, then I woke up here,” he said honestly. It wasn’t important what he was doing before he went to sleep.
“Since we can be fairly confident whoever this is took Hotch first,” said Emily, “That probably means they got to you last, Spence. They hit all of us in one day. They must have known the BAU had a day off after closing the last case. They would have had to hit us quick to avoid raising alarms.”
“And the fact that we were all grabbed at different times indicates we’re likely dealing with a single Unsub. Someone highly organized and familiar with each of our routines.”
“The Unsub must have been planning this for a long time. Finding someone in witness protection, especially a former profiler, would take an incredible amount of skill or resources,” said Spence. “They stalked us, learned our routines, then used blitz attacks to stop us from being able to fight back.”
It didn’t take long for them to get into the flow. He felt his panic slipping away as his brain shifted into work mode. At some point they all went from standing to sitting in a circle on the floor.
It felt ridiculous to think about, but Spencer couldn't help but be mildly self conscious being the only one of them in his pajamas, as he was taken in his sleep. He was just glad it was a cold night so he'd been wearing nice, full length ones and not boxers and a shirt or something to that affect. Derek, Emily and JJ were all dressed in comfortable day wear. Rossi and Hotch in suits. Hotch was interesting, though. Spencer had rarely seen him outside of a crisp black suit characteristic of an FBI agent. The one he wore now was navy with a striped tie. It looked good on him.
They put together a more detailed timeline and looked back on the past few months of their lives to discuss anything that could have possibly been out of the ordinary.
The more they talked, the less cagey Hotch was about his life. It was strange to learn more about the day to day he had been living in the years since they’d seen him.
None of them talked about their kids or partners beyond a simple acknowledgement of their existence. They were all acutely aware of the camera on the roof. Whoever was doing this didn’t need to know any more about their families than they already did.
Their phones had been taken and none of them had anything to write with, so they were relying on Spencer to catalogue and compile the information in his brain. He did just that, and after a couple hours they had what was likely a fairly reliable timeline, including geographical information.
Whoever was doing this, they were extremely organized, meticulous, and quick. Not one of them saw it coming. None of them could point to any strange interactions they had over the past months, any red flags, any signs of being followed.
When it came time for Spencer to recount the details of the last months of his life, the others stared at him intently. “I haven’t seen you in person in months,” said Derek. “You don’t look so great, pretty boy.”
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but the bunker we’re currently locked in isn’t making the rest of you look at your healthiest, either.”
“You know what I mean,” said Derek with an affectionate eyeroll.
“You know I was doing some classified work for the bureau. That’s why I couldn’t be there for what happened with Voit,” he said with an apologetic look to Rossi, who waved his hand dismissively. They had already been over this when Spencer first got back. He noticed Hotch raise a curious eyebrow. “I can’t talk about the work since we’re currently being recorded,” he said, nodding up at the camera. “Emily knows the details. It was nothing bad, just research that kept me out off the grid for a while. But if the Unsub could find Hotch in witness protection, then it’s possible they could have been tailing me for that long.”
“That finished months ago,” pointed out Emily. “What have you been doing while you’re on sabbatical?”
“A few guest lecture series at Virginia Tech and spending time with my mom, mostly. I just needed a break. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I guess I’ve been a bit distracted. I haven’t seen or experienced anything unusual, though.”
“I hope your mom’s doing okay,” said JJ comfortingly, prompting the rest of them to nod sympathetically.
He just nodded back. She was doing fine, honestly, not that he’d been visiting as often as he should. Easier to let them assume she was the reason he had been absent.
“Why are you doing this?” said Hotch, standing up and looking directly at the camera once they realized none of them had any more details to share at this point. “What do you want from us? Tell us what it is and maybe we can give it to you.”
The camera blinked its red light at them, showing no care for their presence.
Hotch sighed. He looked down at them all helplessly. His eyes stopped short on Derek. He knelt down, staring at something on the side of his head. “What?” asked Derek, leaning away in concern at Hotch’s suddenly very close face.
“Hold still,” said Hotch. He waved Emily over, who shuffled round to his side. “Right… there,” he said, hovering a finger just behind Derek’s ear.
Her eyes widened. Hotch looked at her questioningly, then turned his own head and tucked his hair away so that she could see behind his ear.
“You have it too,” she said. She did the same as him and he checked her over. They looked at each other again and he nodded.
They all stared at them expectantly, though Spencer was pretty sure he knew what they were seeing.
“Puncture marks at the top of the neck, just behind the ear,” Emily explained. “That’s where we were injected.”
Spencer, Rossi and JJ all checked each other. Sure enough, same thing.
“That means we were likely attacked from behind,” said Derek.
“Do we know what we were drugged with?” said Hotch, shooting an almost imperceptible glance in Spencer’s direction.
His skin crawled at the way none of them wanted to look at him, to just come right out and say it. He didn’t particularly want to talk about it. Not really. But they always acted like the subject was poison and it made him feel like he had to walk on eggshells too. Like the reality of his life was harder for them to hear than it was for him to live.
“I am fairly confident it was some kind of opioid,” he said, careful to keep the irritation out of his voice.
JJ put her hand on his and he felt the irritation dissipate.
They cared about him. He knew that. It’s not as if they were wrong to worry. They had talked about it a little over the years, but not enough that it had stopped being awkward every time it came up.
“Are you certain?” asked Rossi. “Could have been a tranquilizer.”
“I’m certain,” said Spencer. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”
Derek reached a foot across the circle and bumped it against Spencer’s knee in a supportive gesture, like saying ‘I’m here with you.’ Emily smiled at him softly, reassuringly.
“It could have been cut with something,” pointed out Hotch.
“The totality of the blackout indicates it may have been cut with a sedative of some kind, as a high enough dose of opioids to include that kind of memory loss reliably could be unsafe and none of us are suffering significant enough side effects to indicate that’s the case. Whoever did this knew exactly what dosage to use,” he explained. “But… I am quite sure it was predominantly an opioid.”
Of course he was sure.
“Jesus,” said JJ. “I’m sorry, Spence.”
“I don’t believe in fate but the universe does seem to have a strange way of conspiring to get you high,” deadpanned Emily.
Derek shot her a harsh look, but Spencer cracked a smile. “I think ‘an Unsub made me do it’ is going to start sounding like ‘a dog ate my homework’ to my sponsor,” he joked back, relief washing over him that they weren’t going to dance around it the entire time they were in here. Not that he’d spoken to his sponsor in more than a year. They didn’t need to know that.
The others smiled too. “You’ll be alright, kid,” said Rossi. “If you kept it together after Mexico, you’ll get through this.”
That would have been a comforting statement if not for the fact that it was completely false. It didn’t matter anyway. Penelope and the rest of the team would find them and get them out before any of this became an issue.
Or they wouldn’t. But he couldn’t think about that yet.
A crease sat deep between Hotch’s eyebrows. “Mexico?”
“You don’t know?” said Emily. “I just assumed you were across everything to do with the Scratch case.”
“No,” said Hotch. “I accepted proof of his death and told the liaison I didn’t want to know anything else.”
“It’s complicated,” said Rossi. “There were other players involved, but the short version is Reid was drugged and framed for murder. It wasn’t pretty.”
“We don’t need to go into the details,” said Spencer, oddly embarrassed at the idea of Hotch knowing just how prone to being victimized he apparently still is. He knew it wasn’t rational, given the things that had happened to Hotch and the fact that all of them were in this locked room as victims together.
Hotch looked at him. Spencer couldn’t read his expression at all. Eventually he just nodded and let it drop.
Before any of them could say another word, there was a banging at the door. The hatch on the other side of the door chamber opened.
Derek got to the door first, trying to rip the hatch on their side open. He shouted at the door “What do you want?! Talk to me! Just tell us what you want!”
There was no response.
The only thing they could see was a hand covered in a thick leather glove sliding a piece of paper in. It was a smaller hand than expected.
He continued pulling but the panel didn’t budge until the other one had closed completely. Derek stumbled backwards as the panel suddenly released.
“It’s soundproof,” Spencer said, despairing. “There was no sound of footsteps on the other side.”
Emily grabbed the note from the chamber. They all whipped around to watch her as she read the words aloud.
“Hello, old friends,” she started, all of them frozen in place and hanging off her every word. “I know you are wondering why you are here. It is simple. You dragged my secrets into the light and then put me in a cage. At first I wanted to get revenge. Then I watched you for a long time and I learned all about you and I learned that we are the same. I saw how you are suffering. How you are scared. All hiding. I remember when I had to hide. For so long I hid even from myself. Now, because of you, I am free. Even when I was in a cage, I was free, because I had no secrets anymore.
I want to give you the freedom you gave to me. Soon, you will not have secrets. You will see that in this room you cannot hide and that when there is nothing left to hide, you will be free.”
Emily looked up from the letter, meeting all of their eyes in turn. There was a painful lump in Spencer’s throat.
If he was being honest with himself, he knew it as soon as he woke up in this room and saw them all there. He knew they weren’t going to make it out in time. He knew the Unsub must have watched him closely enough to know what was going on with him. He knew he wasn’t making it out of this without all of them seeing him for exactly who he is.
Now, he thought, might be the time to fall apart.
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writer-in-theory · 2 years
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m&ms and healing — aaron hotchner
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summary: hotch misses the days when everyone had fun in the office. he’s determined to bring that back. request: Hello I saw your thing abt random conversations and also writing requests and so like I was thinking you remember early CM where Gideon was eating a fruit (tangerine? Mandarin?) and while talking casually shared pieces with Elle and stuff? We didn't see that in the later seasons as much and I think that's a grave loss. Like yeah, there were team dinners and stuff but like. Think of Emily eating M&Ms or something and Morgan just fucken opening his mouth real wide waiting for her to notice and throe one in. Then they bring throw-able snacks to work for expressly that purpose. JJ gets in on it willingly, but they have to bribe Reid by bringing a snack he really likes and saying he can /only/ eat them if he lets them throw whatever food into his mouth. For Hotch, he misses the physics magic days. pairing: none, gen fic category: hurt/comfort content warnings: spoilers through season 7, discussions of the team eating snacks, brief mentions of hankel and doyle word count: 1.3k
summer of fics masterlist masterlist want to join my taglist?
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The change wasn’t obvious at first. It happened so slowly that Hotch wondered if maybe no one else had noticed at first, either. That maybe, this was a part of the normal evolution of life and maybe the team wasn’t meant to stay as close as they once were.
But no, that couldn’t be true, either, because the team was as close as before, maybe even more so. Hotch didn’t miss the way Derek’s hand would linger on Spencer’s shoulder when he checked in on the other man, and the way JJ would always look to Emily when a case even resembling Doyle would come up as if cataloging and checking every minute change in the woman’s face to find a sign of her struggling.
The moment Hotch could tell what was different should have been insignificant. He’d rushed to his office after, feeling out of breath despite no physical activity out of the norm for him. It made sense why he hadn’t noticed it until now—no one ate in the office anymore.
It had happened so subtly that Hotch wasn’t sure when it stopped. Had it been when Gideon quit the team and stopped bringing in all those little mandarin oranges? Or maybe it was when Elle left, who everyone brought a snack for because she seemed to immerse herself in certain cases more intensely than others. It could have been when Spencer was held hostage by Hankel, when the physics magic stopped occurring so too did the joyful exchange of tiny hand-held foods.
There were so many moments experienced over the years by the team, so many that should have been the main impactor that there was no way to trace back the end of it all. What Hotch knew though, was that the team was irreparably changed, and he missed them.
Back then, he’d been annoyed when he’d walk into the office to see Morgan and Prentiss throwing popcorn at each other’s open mouths, cheering loudly when one of them made the shot. He shook his head and pretended he wasn’t amused when JJ was brought into the ordeal, the other woman bringing in a little bag of M&Ms and declaring that she could get Spencer on board if they switched to those.
Within two weeks, they had nearly the entire team in on it, tossing little candy pieces at each other sometimes so wildly that there was no way they were aiming at the intended target. He’d never noticed it before, but Hotch’s report writing grew more productive when he worked to the sound of his team’s joyous laughter.
Now, he only wrote to silence.
It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other, but maybe that they did too much now. They’ve been through too much in such a short amount of time—more than anyone should ever have to go through in a lifetime much less a measly handful of years. Hotch could see the heavy signs of care and yet all he wished for now was the mess of M&Ms coating the BAU office floor.
Maybe that was why, the next time he found his way to a grocery store, Hotch bought the largest bag of M&Ms he could find along with a bag of pre-popped popcorn.
He put off setting it out for another couple of weeks. It was easy to blame on cases—they’d had a few tough ones in recent months and he didn’t want to seem callous by setting out a bowl of candy after a loss of a case.
Eventually, though, there was nothing to do but try to let his team know that he loved them. So, he found a spare Tupperware bowl in the breakroom that must have been abandoned years ago. He dumped the snacks into it and simply left it by the microwave, hoping one of them would realize what he was trying to tell them. What he was begging for, really.
Because Hotch could not imagine this team without any of the individual members there now. Yet, the way they were going now he knew they would lose another one too quickly to burnout, or grief, or simple yet unbearable exhaustion. It was how they’d lost Gideon and Elle, two team members that he wished could have met their newest addition. Two team members who felt more like family than anyone Hotch had worked with back in Seattle. 
It was JJ who noticed first. 
“Derek, did you bring this?” she called one day, leaning her head out of the breakroom’s doorframe. 
Unfortunately, Hotch’s phone rang before he could hear an answer, but it must not have been enough because the floor was nearly silent by the time the call ended.
It eventually was Derek who made the first move. Hotch could always count on Derek to notice when a team member—a family member—needed help. Sometimes in the physical sense, always being the one kicking down the door when one of their own was hurt, but more often than not he was the one making sure their souls were as unscarred as possible. When Spencer was rescued from Hankel, it was Derek who sat in a stiff hospital chair all night just to make sure the other man wouldn’t wake up alone. And though it had been JJ who remained in contact with Emily after her supposed death, it was Derek who came by her apartment when she admitted a month later that she wasn't sure it would ever feel like home again.
And it was Derek Morgan who noticed Hotch’s offer, who noticed what he was trying to tell him.
“Hey, Reid, catch!” Derek laughed, tossing an M&M the man’s way even though Spencer hadn’t fully turned yet. Spencer seemed startled, head reeling back as though the candy had been weighty.
“When was the last time we did that?” JJ asked, turning her chair to accept a piece herself, moving forward in order to catch it in her mouth and cheering happily when she managed.
“It’s been too long.”
Once the idea was set in all of them, there was no stopping it. Soon enough the entire group was laughing and smiling as they had once before, tossing dozens of M&Ms at each other and making a bigger mess than they ever had before. Hotch wouldn’t complain though, he wouldn’t even feign annoyance like when Reid would show off his physics magic.
No, this time he’d leave his office door propped open and he’d smile, finally working on some old paperwork to the raucous sounds of his team’s joy.
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GENERAL TAGLIST @samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @raythefaye @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @exhaleli @darkeunology @nomajdetective @meggie-m00n @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels
ONESHOT TAGLIST @natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa
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genuaryficrecs · 2 months
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Title: Quitting by @there-must-be-a-lock
Length: 1/1 Chapters, 7,283 Words [part 1 of 4 in a series]
Rating: Mature
Fandom: Supernatural, Criminal Minds
Main Character(s): Spencer Reid, Sam Winchester
Link to Fic
Short Summary:
In which Sam and Spencer go to NA meetings, drink too much coffee, and talk about bioluminescent bacteria/human nature. For two people who are volunteering a bare minimum of personal information, they understand each other pretty well.
What you like about the fic!
Absolutely gorgeous character comparison fic. Two guys who are totally messed up and trying to do better, meeting in a way that gets them to open up and talk to each other? Beautiful. (and a *perfect* Spencer Reid voice).
Fave Quote(s) [optional]
Spencer’s watching him intently. He was late, today, and he looks like hell, eyes sunk in bruised rings, jiggling his foot so quickly and incessantly that it seems like he’s vibrating in place. He’s spent most of the meeting so far looking down at his coffee cup like it held the secrets of the universe. He’s watching Sam now, though.
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lamphous · 1 year
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damn, really dodged the writing-hannibal-fic bullet for almost 10 years straight, only to succumb on an innocuous wednesday afternoon in november huh
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redhoodie1723 · 2 years
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FIC PROMPTS
I'm opening my inbox to fic prompts because I'm trying to get back into writing. So leave any suggestions/prompts you have and I'll try and take a crack at it.
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sundrop-writes · 3 months
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Sundrop's Criminal Minds Masterlist
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Lessons For A Genius - Capsule Series (Temporarily Complete)
Note: This is a Capsule Series, so each fic can be read as an individual oneshot. There is no overarching story, and no specific ending.
Lesson One: Slick Silicone - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends With Benefits. Smut. Despite being a genius, Reid still has a lot left to learn about life. (Mostly sex related.) And he definitely wants to learn from you. His first lesson? Well, a linguistics lesson turns into a hands-on demonstration with a very special toy. (17,200 words.)
Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals - Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends With Benefits. Smut. After receiving his first lesson, Spencer is eager to learn more for you. So you teach him the next logical thing - how to pleasure you in return. (26,300 words.)
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The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other. (8,200 words.)
Push and Pull - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension. When investigating Viper, Emily doesn't fall for his tricks, and in fact - spends the night teasing him by showing more interest in you. Little did she know, she was driving you insane in the process. (2,800 words.)
The Perfect Brat - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. Spencer acts up, so you and Elle put him in his place. (2,900 words.)
Loverboy - Bratty!Virgin!Spencer Reid x (Dom)Fem!Reader. Co-Workers with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You try your hardest to make Spencer's first time a good one. (3,100 words.)
Black Suit - Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong. (2,900 words.)
From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. After JJ is attacked on the Hankle farm, you take the time to check on her and distract her flustered mind. (3,000 words.)
Figure It Out - A Criminal Minds Casefic. Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. When the team takes a case in your hometown - a secret that you have been trying to hide for years comes to be known with a vengeance. (18,000 words.)
Meddle About - Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Morgan calls you Reid's 'Mommy', and you don't think much of it - but Reid can't get it out of his head. It accidentally slips out of his lips, and you like how it sounds coming from him. (6,300 words.)
Pathetic - Dom!Elle Greenaway x Switch!GN!Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. Spencer gets punished again - in a very creative way. (2,600 words.)
She Keeps Me Up - Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP. JJ is very protective of you - and very possessive of you. When an UnSub leaves a tiny scratch on you, she feels the need to remind you exactly who you belong to. (3,100 words.)
Careful (Series - In Progress) - Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst, Fluff, and Smut. When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers. (28,300 words so far.) | Series Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three |
COMING SOON:
Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven (Finale)
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Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader Headcanons
Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss Kink Headcanons
Random Spencer Reid Headcanons
JJ Being Protective Of You (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic Reader)
The Scale of Dominance and Submissiveness in The Criminal Minds Characters (Headcanons)
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How would Spencer react to you teasing him with a lollipop?
How would Spencer react to you fainting around him?
How would Spencer, Emily, and Elle react to getting proposed to?
How would Derek, Emily, and Spencer react to your daughter being clingy with them?
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Note: This last fic links off to AO3. I'm probably not going to edit it and post it on Tumblr - it's going to live on AO3. So if you want to read it, you can do so at this link.
Burn The Witch - Spencer Reid x (BAU)Fem!Reader. Mutual Pining Co-Workers. Heavy Angst, Smut, Casefic. (Series - Complete.) You weren’t sure which you regretted more: acting on your feelings for Spencer, or writing them down first. But there wasn't much room for regrets when a psychopath was waving a gas can in front of your face and telling you he intended to turn you to ashes. (69,900 words.)
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0and0its0doctor0 · 3 months
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Somewhere I belong
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Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Alcohol and Fluff
Summary: Aaron has a little liquid courage and breaks the rules.
Word count: 598
Prompt: "I think you're bluffing." "Am I?"
This is for the CM Office Party Challange for @imagining-in-the-margins
Things have not been going well for me lately and I know it's been quite a while since I have posted something. I hope you all enjoy this and have happy holidays.
A loud laugh slipped past your painted blood red lips as you looked around the table and down at the shot glass in your hand. The whole team was present and the more time you spent together the more you felt like you belonged on the team. You had just had your year review and you passed with flying colors thankfully. “Alright. Everyone ready?” Derek asked as everyone at the table nodded. There was laughter and giggles as the shot was tossed back. You were starting to feel your head get a little fuzzy and decided maybe it was time to take a little break. “I’ll be right back. Gonna get some fresh air.”
You stood up and smoothed down your tight gold dress that left little to the imagination and hoped to God that you didn’t trip while wearing heels. You hated wearing them but none of your tactical boots went with the dress unfortunately. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding when you made it to the outside patio area of the ballroom where the FBI Christmas party was being held. There were less people outside because it was extremely cold and you felt a chill start to run up your spine because you didn’t bring a jacket. The cold air was kind of a relief though. It helped clear your head from the multiple shots you had just taken.
You jumped when you felt a hand on your lower back and turned around so fast you lost your footing. Two large hands wrapped around your waist to keep you upright and you looked up to see Aaron standing there holding you up. Your mouth suddenly went dry and you were pretty confident your heart skipped a beat. “You good?” He questioned as you stood up straight and nodded. There was a moment of silence where you both stared into each other’s eyes, you were still in his arms as he reached a hand up and lightly brushed a curl out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. His hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into the touch. His thumb brushed along your cheek bone and you felt like your legs were going to give out.
“I’m not quite sure when I am going to have the confidence to do this again. And it’s highly inappropriate. But sometimes you find someone worth breaking the rules for.” He was starting to ramble, and you felt your cheeks start to heat up and turn red. “I have very…strong feelings for you.” As the words left his mouth you were sure your heart stopped beating. His fingertips traced from your cheek and down the side of your neck. They lightly traced down your arm till he was able to intertwine your fingers with his. “I think you’re bluffing.” You managed to whisper out as you blinked away tears. He smiled and leaned down to capture your lips with his in a passionate kiss. When he pulled away, he grinned. “Am I?” he questioned, and you wrapped your arms tightly around him in a hug. When his arms wrapped around you it felt like all your broken pieces were starting to fit back together. “So should I assume you reciprocate those feelings?” He held you tight and you nodded. “More than you could ever know.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head.
Emily turned to Derek with a grin. “You owe me 20 bucks!” She said as the rest of the team watched Aaron lean down to kiss you again.
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CM New Beginnings Fics
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Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who participated. I am so happy to share everyone’s hard work. If you have a oneshot or masterlist you’d like me to add, please send me a message - new additions are always welcome.
First, check out @emberfrostlovesloki 's 🌈 Masterlist of Entries ☀️: This lovely prolific writer has entered several fics, which include Hotch, Emily, and Spencer fics! Check out their page for even more!
🌼 SFW S.R./Reader Entries 🌼
Play Dates by me: [GN] Reader finds out Spencer hasn’t had many dates and offers several Play Dates.
Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by @foxy-eva: [GN] Spencer was the right person at the wrong time, no doubt about it. When Reader is finally back in town, they're ready for a fresh start. 
You're Gonna Go Far, Love by @writer-in-theory: [GN] After relapsing, Spencer takes the first flight with no plan other than to get a fresh start.
Love Like the Sea by @rynwritesreid: [GN] After Spencer lost Maeve, he swore of love, until Reader came around.
Cowboy Like Me by @foxy-eva: [Fem] Spencer decides to fulfill a childhood dream to become a cowboy.
In Sickness and In Health by @pathologicalreid: [Fem] Minutes before Reader's wedding is supposed to start, Spencer gets cold feet.
Maybe We Found Love Right Where We Are by @andiebeaword: [Fem] Spencer just got engaged to Maeve on Valentine’s Day. Finding out his best friend’s heart will be broken changes things. 
More ratings and pairings below!
🌼 Other Pairings/Gen SFW Fics 🌼
Silent Demon by @angellsell: [Derek/Fem!Reader] Reader celebrates a month milestone of sobriety, but she isn't very proud of it.
Hearts on Our Sleeves by @angellsell: [Hotch/Fem!Reader] Aaron and Reader decide to give a try at a new relationship after a long dry spell.
Good Fortune by @reasonablerodents: [Hotchreid] Spencer and Aaron are the only ones without a partner for a New Year's Kiss.
And When Dawn Came by @snarkylinda: [Gen] Spencer calls Emily the night that Cat has the baby he decided to adopt.
The Date by @codename-mom: [Gen] Jessica didn't expect what her former brother-in-law was going to ask her.
Last Recruit by @/codename-mom: [Gen] There's a new agent at the BAU eager to start her new life. Her name is Penelope Garcia.
First Steps by @/codename-mom: [Gen] Rossi found a young agent named Aaron Hotchner who could be a good new recruit for the BAU.
First Day at School by @/codename-mom: [Gen] Jack is now old enough to go at school and his father has trouble to deal with this very special day.
🌼 NSFW Entries (S.R./Fem!R) 🌼
Second Time's a Charm by @foxy-eva: Back in college Spencer Reid and Fem!Reader left many things unsaid. Years later they give it another try.
It’s Too Cliché by me: Reader and Spencer are the worst at friends with benefits. After an exchange of gifts & nasty words, the two reunite on a very eventful NYE.
For the Love of Lace by @reidmotif: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend anymore but needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her date.
Sweet Agony by @incognit0slut: After tragedy, Reader believed she was unworthy of love. Spencer proves her wrong.
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Co-Creator Bonus List
🌼 SFW S.R./Fem!R Fics 🌼
The Only Hoax I Believe In by Foxy: Spencer struggles with his addiction after prison until Reader is determined to help him, no matter the cost.
The Perfect Plan by me: Reader has a question for Spencer, but things don’t go according to plan.
Impromptu by me: Reader learns some shocking news when a case lands her in the hospital.
Defining Family by me: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.
Clean Shaven by me: Reader helps Spencer shave after prison.
Drunk Dial by me: It’s been years since Reader talked to Spencer, but after a bunch of drinks it seems like a really good idea.
Repentance by me: Spencer is confronted with his second chance at life, finding it full of regrets. Reader tries to talk him through it.
Happy Hydrangea by me: TransMan!Reader. JJ is corrected in finding out Spencer has had a boyfriend for a while now.
🌼 NSFW S.R./Fem!R Fics 🌼
Lily of the Valley (Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3) by me: Unsub!Reid. Spencer was found guilty but mentally ill after the torture and murder of several men. He finds solace in his psychiatrist at the institution.
Duet by Foxy: Letting the love of his life get away was Spencer’s biggest regret, so he decides to go after her.
Honeymoon by Foxy: Spencer and his wife are excited about their future (and their honeymoon).
To Have and To Hold by me: Reader is trying to save her marriage, but Spencer seems resigned to its failure.
Stork Song by me: Spencer and Reader try to find intimacy again following a terrible loss.
Domesticity by me: Reader gets worked up watching Spencer with kids. He notices.
Different Kind of Daddy by me: After a rough day, Reader has good news for her husband.
🌼 Other SFW Pairings 🌼
Till Death Do Us Part by Foxy: [Emily/GN!Reader] Reader didn't expect grief to linger after Emily came back from the dead.
Motherhood by Foxy: [Tara/Emily] Emily and Tara finally become mothers.
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Happy Reading!
P.S. If I missed your fic or you have a new one to add, feel free to send me a message. I would love to add it!
237 notes · View notes
somethingubercool · 2 years
Text
my petite protégée (bau x reader/spencer x reader)
Y/N is new to the BAU and works under Garcia. she finds herself being able to see something in the case no one else does, impressing the team, including a specific doctor
this is fem!reader but i will try to make my fics more gen later. in requests btw, if you would like to, please specify what gender you would like the reader to be
genre: fluff
word countL 8.7k
trigger warnings: just regular criminal minds stuff
A/N: So, this took a different turn, a fluffier turn. Originally this was gonna be an angst fic but then I was in a cute mood so. Tell me if you guys want me to continue the Techie Reader series because I would be happy too.  Also, the reader is around 20, and I’m placing Spencer at 26-27 so there is a bit of an age difference, but not too much. This is around season 3
 UPDATED A/N: I wrote this in 2020 and then deleted it when I deleted my old Tumblr. But, I was really proud of this fic, so....here it is.
 This system was far more complicated than what you’ve practiced with when you were at the academy, but you shouldn’t be too surprised knowing the kind of equipment that the FBI tended to use, it was all taught to you at The Academy.
 “And I’ve developed all the software myself!”
 In addition to the fact that the software was designed by Ms. Penelope Garcia herself.
 “This is...amazing,” You gawked, eyes scanning over the array of code Garcia so gracefully decided to show you, whether it was for you to study or be in awe at. Either way, you were doing both, leaning forward in order to scan your eyes over as much of the sequences as you possibly could, although you doubt you would remember it all. You were intelligent, IQ of 159 and almost perfect grades throughout all of your schooling, but you were better with making connections and remembering numbers than memory, so even if you wanted to remember all of Garcia’s code, it was nearly impossible
 “That’s right, stare in wonder!” Garcia exclaimed in a grandiose tone, to which you nodded intrinsically, the blue hue of the laptop flashing into your eyes as you scanned the computer one last time.
 “I am in wonder,” You replied directly, turning around in your rolling chair to look at the extravagantly dressed woman in all of her glory. “But how long did it take you to program this?”
 “A magician never reveals her secrets, Y/L/N.” Garcia replied ominously, to which you gave her a deadpan stare before bursting out into a smile and shaking your head playfully.
 “You’re the boss.” You whispered back, spinning around in your chair once more so you would be facing the computers, hearing the rolling of another set of wheels as Garcia pulled up an extra chair next to you.
 “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to someone telling me that, although it feels nice.” She giggled, smiling at me before pulling the keyboard closer to her and entering whatever information was needed in order to pull up the FBI’s security page. As you read through the page, you could see all the requested information pertained to you, and even before you could reply with the needed responses, Garcia began to type.
 “Do you have a middle name?”
 “Ah--”
 “Oh, wait. Never mind, I know that.” She scrolled further down the page.
 “Age?”
 “20.”
 “Oh! You’re a youngster, younger than Reid even.”
 You did not recognize that name but decided to not inquire about it.
 “Address?”
 “3--”
 “Oh wait, I know this too. It was on your introductory paper.”
 You begged to wonder why she was asking you these questions in the first place if she knew most of the information, but frankly, you didn’t mind spending time with Garcia so you plainly allowed this to happen.
 “Alright, all your information is in. You’re now my protege, my little bear.” You giggled at the nickname as soon as it left her mouth.
 “Little bear?” You asked, raising your eyebrow amused.
 “Cause you’re cute.” She replied, making you pout appreciatively at her. Yeah, you definitely did not mind spending time with Garcia. 
 “So, what exactly am I supposed to do as your petite protege.” You asked, smirking at her when she raised her eyebrows appreciatively at you for your french,
 “Well, mon petit ours, the BAU will be calling into us multiple times for references, further research on specific dates, events, records, anything regarding the situation at hand or regarding a potential witness or unsub.”
 “Unsub?” You asked, confused.
 “Unidentified subject. The bad guy.”
 “The bad guy.” You confirmed, signaling her to continue.
 “And sometimes, multiple members will call me at once, I’ll be too popular.” She exclaimed playfully, causing you to giggle again at her antics as you nodded in understanding. “So that is where you step in, my little bear. If I am currently researching a topic or on a call with another one of our special agents and am too busy to respond, they can call you.”
 “And I can research the topic as well.” You asked in an attempt to confirm your position, which Garcia affirmed with a single nod.
 “Exactly. I’m going to make a copy of my system to a whole new set of monitors that they should be bringing in tomorrow. It probably would have been here today but--”
 Suddenly, the door was yanked open, shining a bright light into the relatively dimly lit room, causing both you and Garcia to squint and shield yourselves from the scorching rays.
 “Garcia, we have a new case.” You heard a female voice say, one that you were too preoccupied shielding your eyes from to see. 
 “But there is a new case,” Garcia completed, sighing in relief when the blinding ray of light shrunk away as the female voice closed the door. As soon as your eyes were safe, you were able to unfold yourself from your shielded position and look at the source of the voice and the beam of light, a beautiful, petite blond woman with her arms crossed, a manilla folder in her hand, and an amused smile being the origin of it all.
 “Aww, JJ! No sudden lights in the Batcave!” Garcia whined childishly, pouting at the woman, presumably JJ, who was now approaching the two of you with an entertained look in her eyes. She shook her head at Garcia as she leaned against her chair and held the manilla folder up at Garcia’s face. The moment Garcia’s eyes landed on them, they filled with dread.
 “Please tell me this is just penny thievery.”
 “Serial murders.” The woman replied flatly, causing Garcia to shut her eyes in discomfort.
 “That isn’t penny thievery.” Garcia groaned, taking the manilla folder in her hands before throwing you an exasperated sigh to which you sympathetically smiled at. It was at that moment that JJ finally acknowledged you properly.
 “Agent Jennifer Jareau, nice to meet you.” She greeted you, taking your hand in a simple shake as you smiled at her.
 “Y/N  Y/L/N. Techie.” You replied jokingly, to which Agent Jareau seemed to appreciate, smiling at you in a pleased manner.
 “She’s my little protege.” Garcia commented, replying in an exaggerated French accent that caused all three of you to giggle.
 “How old are you, by the way? You seem young.” She asked you, scanning your face as you politely smiled at her. 
 “I get that a lot. Contrary to popular beliefs, I can legally drink within a year.” You replied with a small smile, to which Agent Jareau tilted her head in acknowledgment.
 “Can you believe it? She’s twenty. A literal baby.” Garcia whispered to Agent Jareau, however, clearly with the intention for you to hear, causing you to roll your eyes at her comment. 
 “Again, can legally drink in a year. In Europ,e I can do it right now.” You retorted playfully, smiling at Agent Jareau, shyly, who simply chuckled before nodding her head towards the manilla folder in Garcia’s handande gesturing towards the door.
 “Come on, we need to talk to the rest of the team.” And with that, Garcia got up and prepared to head to where the team was, you presumed, leaving you perplexed on whether you should stay put in the room or follow Garcia and Agent Jareau, not wanting to intrude in places you didn’t know if you were even invited to. However, Garcia answered that question for you rather quickly, stopping her movements in order to spin around at her heel and point at you definitively,
 “You should come with.” She stated, to which you looked back at her with wide eyes and an unknowing stare, baffled to what exactly is taking place. You could see that Agent Jareau had paused and look behind her in the corner of your eye, waiting for the both of you. You gawked at Garcia once again.
 “Ahh...am I allowed to?” You asked dumbly, looking between Garcia and Agent Jareau for a concrete answer. Jareau fixated her eyes on Garcia who looked at you as if you were equally the most precious and most ridiculous person alive. 
 “Of course, you are. But, ah, just for investigation’s sake, why don’t you just sit so that we can give you the information precisely.” Garcia stated, looking back to Jareau for confirmation, to which she nodded and smiled at.
 “Sure.” Jareau simply added, waiting for both you and Garcia to catch up with her. Pushing yourself up from the chair, you adjusted your top before walking towards Garcia, who threw you a proud smile and hum as both of you caught up with Agent Jareau and headed towards the briefing room.
 “We call it the Roundtable,” Garcia whispered to you as the three of you started to mount up a set of stairs, your eyes preoccupied with scanning the numerous amounts of desks and workers around you, watching in awe. Even though you strived to work here one day, called even before you fully graduated, you still could not believe that you were now part of the Bureau. All those sleepless nights where you agonizingly worried if you would ever make it, finishing reports and projects on just caffeine alone, striving to be a part of the Bureau, none of it seemed real now that you were actually there. To you, all of this was insane.
 “And this is it.” You were pulled out of your internal monologue by Agent Jareau’s voice, quickly fixating your eyes on the glass door that separated you and what seemed to be a round table surrounded by various chairs, propped a few feet away from a large screen and projector. Well, at least it fits the name.
 “Come on, we have to set everything up before the team comes in,” Garcia said to you, taking your forearm gently and guiding you inside the room, to which you quickly pushed open and examined your surroundings. Wow, you were actually there.
 “Can you two set up the monitors while I inform the team?” You heard Agent Jareau ask, causing you to turn your head around and stare at her with wide eyes. 
Holy shit you were going to meet the team.
 “Yeah, gotta call everyone in so we can stare at photos of dead bodies like any other Tuesday.” Garcia chirped sarcastically, causing Agent Jareau to throw her a playful, exasperated look while you let out a faint giggle. With that, Agent Jareau left the room, leaving you and Garcia to set up the monitors.
 “Alright, mon petit ours, let’s do this!” Garcia instigated with an encouraging exclamation, to which you smiled and replied to with a slightly less optimistic exclamation of your own. Garcia could have told you to be more cheerful, but you were convinced that she saw your nervousness and decided that what you gave was sufficient. “Can you start setting up the monitors while I get the photos together? I’m gonna transfer you the file so that you can upload it to the monitor from your computer.”
 “Why can’t we just connect the monitor to your computer?” You question with knitted eyebrows, to which Garcia smiled.
“It’s just basic training.” She stated simply, to which you snickered.
 “Doesn’t everyone know how to set up a monitor?”
 “You’d be surprised.” She said with an underlying tone of exasperation, making the smile on your face grow larger. Once you connected the monitor to your computer, you opened your account and waited for Garcia’s transfer, which happened immediately after you opened the account. You looked up at her in playful shock when the little ding exclaimed from your computer. “I’ll teach you how to be fast and efficient later.” She said with a proud smirk.
At that moment, the glass doors of the room were swung open, causing you to jump slightly in shock. In walked four individuals, of them only two recognizable to you, them being Agent Jareau and SSA Aaron Hotchner. He was the one who you first spoke to when you walked into the Bureau, and although he was quite stoic and straightforward, he was nice to you. When you two made eye-contact, he gave you an acknowledging nod, and you gave him a respectful one back, smiling quickly before turning your head towards the laptop, quickly downloading the slide-show that Garcia sent to you before projecting it to the monitor. Once you had finished, you looked up and sent Garcia a nervous smile, to which she sent you an encouraging one back.
At that moment, you could feel two pairs of eyes staring at you, belonging to the other two agents you didn’t recognize, one of them being a beautiful, raven-haired woman and the other a handsome, darker-skinned man, both of them looking between you, Hotchner, and Garcia expectantly. SSA Hotchner turned to Garcia, who jumped into action, walking over to your place in front of the monitor, near the table, and placing two hands on your shoulders with a firm grasp.
“My Power-Rangers, this is Y/N  Y/L/N. Our new Techie and my petite protegee!” She introduced, making you blush at the sudden attention before bowing slightly, one of which you found embarrassing because who even bows in America before straightening yourself and throwing a nervous smile to the two agents. They both gave you polite smiles, the raven-haired lady coming up to you and holding out her hand.
 “Hi, Agent Emily Prentiss.” She introduced, to which you replied with a soft smile before taking her hand and giving it a shake. The male agent followed, holding out his hand as well and throwing you a comforting smile.
“Derek Morgan. Nice to meet you Y/L/N.” He said, smiling as you shook his hand with a slightly more relaxed demeanor now that introductions were essentially over. You pulled away from them and looked at each member of the team, smiling nervously before tilting your head sideways to look at Garcia, who gave your shoulders another encouraging squeeze before you spoke.
“I look forward to working with everyone.” You said politely, to which Hotchner nodded, Agent Jareau smiled, Agent Morgan gave you an amused nod, and Agent Prentiss spoke up.
“Can I ask how old you are? Sorry, you just look so young for someone to graduate from the Academy.” She questioned, looking between Garcia and you for an answer. Before Garcia could explain, you decided to interject. 
“A-actually, ah, I didn’t.” You explained, fumbling slightly as you attempt to elaborate on your response. “The, ah, the BAU was looking for another Technical Analyst to help with the spike in crimes, and, ah…” As you felt your words start to lag, Garcia gracefully stepped in and finished the elaboration for you, thankfully.
“And now she works under me, haha! I am the master.” She explained in an overexaggerated tone, one that made you giggle and relax, in alliance with how Penelope’s jokes usually made you feel.
“That she is.” You agreed, pushing yourself to make a playful comment. Agent Morgan gave you a smile for that, and even that slight gesture made your tension lessen.
“Well, we can all get to know each other later. Right now, we have a case.” You heard Agent Hotchner say, and immediately, your demeanor changed, becoming serious as you nodded at him and walked over to the computer you set up near the monitor. Garcia returned to her respective laptop, pulling a chair to sit in between Agent Morgan and Agent Hotchner as Agent Jareau handed out files to each member of the team. However, you could not help but realize that there were two extra files in her hands after she finished giving each agent their file. Neither you nor Garcia needed one.
Shaking your head slightly, you decided to not dwell on the miniscule detail and focus on the case, pulling up the slideshow Garcia had sent you before reaching for the remote near your hand, handing it to Agent Jareau who thanked you politely and gestured towards the empty chair at the table, inviting for you to sit. You took the invitation, kindly, and watched as various images popped up on the monitor. What you saw, what was presented to you, the team, caused you to flinch and divert your eyes for a second, before you realized that you yourself would now have to see these images almost weekly, daily even. So, stomaching your disgust, you turned back to the monitor and laid your eyes upon the images of the bloody and brutal girls presented on the screen.
“Two days ago, 26-year-old Lina Turner was found dead in her own home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Her face was mutilated along with her sex-organs.” You tried to suppress the gag that was coming up your throat when you looked once again at the monitor, photos emphasizing the consequences of the gruesome acts committed flashing before you before the images switched to an entirely new woman, this one with red-hair and of short stature, contrasting the previous woman presented on the screen, who was a slender, yet tall brunette.
“Only thing consistent with the victimology is the fact that they’re females.” You heard Agent Morgan state, his eyes fixating on the two photos of the woman now displaying next to each other on the screen.
“Well, considering the fact that they’re both females and their sex-organs were mutilated,” Emily shook her head in empathy and disgust. “the unsub could be male?”
Your head tilted down as you reminded yourself what the term meant, mouthing ‘unidentified subject’ to yourself before turning and looking back up to the other agents. For a split second, you saw Agent Jareau smile at you endearingly before returning to the table.
“The women were also objectively attractive and fit, coupling that with the mutilation to their genitals, we could most likely have a sexual sadist on our hands.” Agent Hotchner said as he read through the files.
“Well, nonetheless, Philly PD wants us there as soon as possible.” Agent Jareau informed, to which Agent Hotchner closed his case files and stood up from his seat, nodding to Agent Jareau who turned off the monitor and handed me the remote with a quiet thank you. “Wheel’s up in 20.”
“Where are Reid and Rossi?” Agent Prentiss asked, causing your ears to quirk up and your eyes to land on her in confusion before glancing back at Garcia, who acknowledged your confusion with a smile.
“At the Academy. They’re giving a lecture.” Agent Hotchner informed, pushing the leather through the latches of his satchel before heading towards the door.
“Oh boy, Reid trying to talk to a group of young adults, that’s gotta be fun.” Agent Prentiss joked, snickering at Agent Jareau, Agent Morgan, and Garcia who all seemed to share the same opinion and knowledge on a subject you were completely oblivious to.
“At least he’s got Rossi,” Agent Jareau sighed, cradling her files in her hand before catching up with Agent Prentiss.
“Hey, Y/L/N, shouldn’t you be in class now too?” Agent Derek said as he turned towards you, a playful smile on his lips that you internally, greatly appreciated, but externally, you still donned a look of surprise.
“Ah, yeah.” Confidence, Y/N, confidence. “Should probably tell my professor I won’t be able to finish my programming project by tomorrow.” You joked, earing various laughs, chuckles, and snickers from the present agents in the room, causing you to feel accomplished.
“Hope he’s not angry,” Morgan added, leaning against the door.
“Ah, he might be, but I’ll just hack into his computer and delete all his files.”
“You can do that?” Agent Prentiss asked, slightly alarmed. “Those are files secured by the bureau.”
You grinned leisurely and shrugged your shoulders. “It wasn’t too hard.”
“Wasn’t?” Agent Prentiss gawked.
“Uh oh, with her you two are double trouble, mama.” Derek exhaled, to whom you assumed to be Garcia, who let out a chuckle before walking over to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, which you easily relaxed into, feeling quite comfortable with her now, already.
“Apparently all you have to do to get a government job is hack into the government,” Garcia added, leaning her head against your shoulder, causing you to giggle.
“What a simple task.” You replied, sarcastically, causing Agent Prentiss to shake her head in disbelief before smiling at you.
“Oh, I like her.” She commented before pushing open the doors and heading down towards her desk, Agent Jareau laughing at the whole interaction before catching up with the dark-haired agent.
Agent Morgan looked between you two, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before letting out a quiet chuckle in content. “You two are gonna completely destroy the office,” he said before pushing open the door with his shoulder and turning outward. “See ya later, Baby Girl. See you later, Pretty Protegee!” He called as he walked down the hall and towards the stairs, leaving Garcia smiling and you with a slight blush on your cheeks, a grin plastered over your face as well.
“Pretty Protegee?” You asked, turning towards Garcia with a wide smile.
“Ah, he does that with a lot of people. Although, I will admit—well, gloat,” You snickered at this. “That I have the most nicknames. But yeah, he does that a lot. Its one of his endearing qualities.” She explained, causing you to nod in understanding.
“They’re really nice,” You commented, before remembering something that irked you earlier. “Who are Rossi and Reid, by the way? There names were mentioned before and Agent Jareau had extra files in her hand so, I assume they were for them.”
“Ah!” Garcia exclaimed, wrapping her arm around your bicep as she placed her computer under her arm and started to lead you towards the door, your laptop and file already in your hands. Rossi is this, like, super-rich author who was actually one of the original starters of the BAU. He kind of retired to work on his books, which are like uber-famous, by the way, but came back not too long ago.” You pouted in acknowledgement as she fed you the information, walking across the catwalk with her and towards the elevator. “And Reid—he likes to be called Doctor Reid, by the way.”
“Is he a Doctor?” You inquired, pressing the elevator button corresponding with your floor.
“He has like, 3 PhD’s and can read a bazillion words per minute. He’s super smart, like Einstein smart.” She ranted, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke.
“Einstein discovered the theory of relativity, Garcia.”
“Well, Spencer has an IQ of 187!”
That shocked you, the piece of information donning on you as you both ascended to your chosen floor, your mind trying to rap around the thought.
“Jesus Christ…” You gawked, looking at Garcia with wide eyes.
“Yeah, he’s an actual genius.” Garcia cemented, wide eyes mimicking yours in empathy. You shook your head in disbelief before the doors of the elevator opened, allowing the two of you to step out and head towards Garcia’s lair.
“How old is he? You said he was young.” You asked, opening the door for her, which you thanked you kindly for before walking in.
“Twenty-six.”
“You’re kidding…” You whispered, eyes wrapping around the idea of working with a genius. Of course, everyone in the bureau was intelligent, but people easily get wrapped around by numbers, and you were quite enamored.
“Yeah,” Garcia said, waking up her computers before taking a seat in her comfy chair, and you had followed close after.
“Hmm, does Morgan have a nickname for him as well? Young genius? Einstein?” You asked, opening the case file as you started your laptop back up.
“Yeah, it’s Pretty Boy.” She said with a chuckle, causing your head to spin around in interest.
“Pretty Boy?”
“Cause he’s pretty!” Garcia giggled, spinning towards you in her chair, her fingers fiddling with the fluffy end of the pencil that she decided to pick up.
“He’s pretty?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow before turning back towards your laptop, which still had Garcia’s presentation displayed on it. You quickly exited the screen, shivering in disgust at the memory of the photos.
“Yeah…” There was a slight quirk in her voice that did not settle with you well.
“…Garcia.”
“Why are you so fixated on the fact that he’s pretty?”
“I’m not, Garcia I don’t even know him!” You defended, although you don’t know why you were defending yourself at all, but the slightly upbeat in Garcia’s voice pushed you to explain yourself as if you were caught doing something wrong.
“But the fact that he is pretty interests you.”
“Garcia, again, I don’t know him.
“I think you’d like him, my petite protegee. He likes Star Trek and reading and a whole lotta sugar in his coffee.” She giggled, turning back to her monitor, causing you to stare at her in defense as your mouth moved and contorted to spit out explanations and excuses that never came. Instead, you decided to sigh defeated, slumping in your chair before you loaded your file up to the presentation you desperately hated by knew you needed to look at, quickly skipping towards the ID photos of the two victims before you opened up your case file.
A beat of silence went by.
Screw yourself for being inquired by this guy.
“…so, he’s a nerd?”
Another excruciating beat went by.
“Yeah, he is.” A pause. “Are you into nerds, Y/N?”
You do not know how this escalated so fast, but god do you wish you could turn it back.
* * *
“Your magic oracle is here to serve you, oh wise one.” Garcia said as she picked up the phone, causing you to burst out into laughter behind her, earning a playful glance before she turned back around towards the phone. “Ignore my petite protegee, she has lost all her magical senses. Whatcha need?”
You heard a faint question of ‘petite protégée?’’ from the other end of the phone, and as much as you wanted to stop yourself, you could not help but wonder, Reid? However, logically, the voice sounded too old to be Reid, and by process of elimination, assuming that it’s not a Philly officer due to how the voice seemed genuinely confused by your presence, you concluded that it was Agent Rossi. Though, you cursed yourself for allowing even the thought of Reid to slip through your mind.
“Baby girl, can you look up to see if any of the victims recently had a plumber or any kind of manual worker come to visit them recently?” You heard Morgan on the line ask, and even before you could glance at her, Garcia had started to search away, which at this point you should expect.
However, what you did not expect, was for the other desk phone to ring.
Quickly, you looked at Garcia for guidance, who paused her furious typing to stare at you in expectance, encouragingly nodding at you to pick it up. You pushed yourself off your chair to reach for the phone, bringing it up to your ear in preparation.
“Hel—”
“Garcia can you check to see if the victims all went to the same school?”
The sudden question surprised you, causing you to become speechless as your nervous mind attempted to connect with your mouth and form concrete setences.
“Ah…”
“Garcia?”
“Ah…I’m not Garcia.”
“You’re not?”
Process of elimination.
“No, I’m her new assistant.”
“Oh.”
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Spencer Reid.”
“So, I’ve heard.”
“Y-you’ve heard about me?”
Your nerves released themselves via soft chuckle as you awoke your laptop from sleep mode.
“Garcia told me a lot about you.”
“What did she say?”
‘Reid.’ It was faint, quiet, but it definitely came from Agent Hotchner, the firmness indicating for Reid to be punctual and to not become distracted by whatever you two were doing. It seemed like the two of your snapped out of your weird trance simultaneously, your fingers hovering over your keyboard and phone placed on speaker as soon as Reid started to talk.
“R-right! Sorry. Y/L/N, can you see if the three victims went to the same high school?”
At this point, you could barely feel the keys on your keyboard as your fingers aggressively typed away, pulling up various records of the victims before key-searching on education and diplomas.
“Same high school.” You concluded, surprised by the connection.
“That’s what I thought.” You heard Reid whisper on the other line, but you were certain that it was more towards himself than you. “Thank you, Y/L/N.”
“No problem, Reid.”
Then the line suddenly cut, and you were left in slight dazzlement at the little interaction you got with Doctor Spencer Reid, the man whose voice was too soft and adorable to be true.  
You turned agonizingly slow in your chair back towards Garcia’s direction, dread evident through your body as your eyes fell upon her plotting grin, her smirk putting the Chesire-cat to shame.
“….what?”
“What was that little thing you two had in the beginning?”
You let out a groan in dramatic agony.
“Garcia! I barely know him!”
“But you seem smitten.” Her last word was too punctuated for you to be comfortable, so you threw her a sharp glare before turning back towards your laptop and pulling up your programming exam.
“Oh, you are not going to ignore me!” She exclaimed behind you in offense, to which you have an exaggerated shrug of your shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Garcia, but I have important matters to attend.”
“Oh, this is not over, missy.” She let out an offended gasp, and you bit your inner cheek to inhibit yourself from letting out a chuckle as you loaded up your Java program.
* * *
“Your oracle is ready for you, sir.” You heard Garcia say into the phone, your seat rolled up next to her as you both leaned in towards the device, the entire BAU team compiled on the other end.
“We looked through various records and backgrounds, but no one seems to fit the profile.” You heard Agent Hotchner explain from the other end, Garcia immediately pulling up the information you two have collected on the victims and previous suspects so far. Still, it seemed as if the team has got gotten anything conclusive, and since the last time you called, apparently, another body was discovered in a hotel room, more brutally mutilated than the others.
‘He’s evolving.’ You remembered Doctor Spencer Reid say in a previous phone call, only meaning that the situation was getting worse and the team was running out of time.
“Okay, let’s get over what we know so far,” You heard Agent Morgan start, speaking to both the team and the two of you present in the computer lab. “This unsub is efficient and quick,”
“He sexually assaults the victims, humiliates them,” Agent Prentiss added, disgust and fatigue evident in her voice.
Wait.
“Mutilates their bodies and their faces, so he has something against their looks” Agent Jareau voice emulated from the speaker.
Why is it…
“All the victims are from the same college, so the unsub is connected to them in that means. Former student or staff member?” Reid threw, voice questioning.
Why can’t it be…
“These girls were all pretty and popular, maybe he was upset that they made fun of him, or never dated him?” Rossi tried, hoping to find something, anything to add to the case.
Hold on.
“Why do you keep saying that the unsub is a ‘he’?” You interrupted, much to the surprise of Garcia, who looked at you, taken aback, and to the silence of the team, which you interpreted as surprise as well.
“…what do you mean, Y/L/N?” You heard Hotch ask through the phone, causing you to become flustered by your outburst, voice wavering slightly as you attempted to justify yourself.
“I-It’s just—” You felt Garcia’s hand squeeze your shoulder, helping ground you, and you took a soft breath before speaking. “You guys kept talking about how the unsub was neat and efficient. You said it was most likely a sneak attack, right?”
“Right, but the preference in females and in relationship with their sex organs—”
“Lesbians exist, Prentiss.” You interrupt, causing both you and her to chuckle slightly before continuing. “But, it doesn’t have to be sexual.”
“You think it might be revenge?” You heard Agent Rossi ask, and before you responded, you pushed yourself away from Garcia’s desk towards your laptop, opening up your closed device and pressing on the various files that you researched during the case.
“So, I got bored when you guys didn’t call us,” You heard Agent Morgan let out a chuckle. “And I started looking into the victim’s high school backgrounds since Doctor Reid mentioned the fact that they all went to the same school.”
“You can just call me Reid.” You heard him tentatively say from the phone, and you forced yourself not to react to Garcia’s smirk before continuing.
“Okay, since Reid mentioned the fact that they all went to the same school. These girls were the queen bees of the school, the Heathers, the Regina Georges.”
“The what?” It was Reid again, and you could not help but let out a giggle at his confusion.
“We’ll discuss that later, Doc. But they were the meanest girls you could think of, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted revenge. You said it might be a boy, but what if it was a girl? Girls, especially high school girls, can be vicious to other high school girls. Maybe one of them snapped.” You explained, displaying your findings to Garcia who scanned them impressed, rubbing your shoulder in pride.
“If they did snap, it would be recent.” You heard Agent Hotchner state quickly before continuing. “Garcia, can you look up any girls from that school who had mental problems during their time in high school, had any psychotic disorders after they graduated, or had any interaction ever with any psych facilities.”
You heard the furious clicking of keys before they came to a sudden halt.
“This is quite a list for such a small school.” Garcia said breathlessly, causing you to shrug.
“Not all of them were bad, some of them might just give anxiety.” You reasoned, to which she smiled softly.
“The unsub, even if brutal, was neat, almost professionally neat. They also would need the specific tools and information to correctly damage and mutilate their sex organs. Baby girl, look up doctors, nurses, med students—”
“Focus on med-students. The victims were 26 and taking in the change that the unsub is also, they probably would still be in med school.” Reid specific, causing Garcia to open her key-searcher and specific the search even more.
“Ahh, geez, I got three names.” She replied, to which you scrunched your eyebrows in shock and disgust.
“How?” You exclaimed softly, to which she shrugged before turning back towards her keyboard.
“The unsub knows the area well to dump the bodies in secluded yet well-visited sites, so search locals, people who were born here, raised here, and stayed here.” Agent Jareau finalized, and in a sudden halt, one name and picture centered at the screen.
“Rebecca Malwizer. Twenty-five. 3356 Walnut Drive.”
“Let’s move.” You heard Agent Hotchner command before the phone was picked up and his voice was heard sharply. “Good work, Y/L/N.” Suddenly, the line was cut, and the bat cave was filled with silence.
Until Garcia enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug and spurted various praises and exclamations to you.
“Ahhh! I have the smartest protegee in all of existence, that was so good!” She gushed, rocking you two back and forth as you laughed at her antics, your hands grasping onto her forearms as you two swayed, chuckling softly at her.
“I learned from the best.” You replied, enjoying the wonderful warmth that was Penelope Garcia.
“Aww, well I can assure you that Doctor Spencer Reid loves smart women like you.”
“Aaaand, you ruined it.” You replied flatly, rejecting her once comforting hug and making attempts to escape them, which she did not allow, only pulling you tighter into her mother-bear embrace.
* * *
“They should be coming any moment!” Garcia exclaimed, jitterily walking towards the elevator with you dragging your feet behind her, smiling softly as you hugged a soft, pink blanket around you,courtesy of Garcia herself.
“They’re probably tired,” You said behind her, catching up to the excited blond with a sigh, leaning against the desk you found yourself near, the entrance to the floor only a few feet away from you. The BAU had been gone for three days now, each day requiring the team to work for countless hours without sleep, meaning neither you nor Garcia got to sleep either. You mentally cursed at the bribing you would have to do with the professor before remembering that you now worked under the Behavioral Analysis Unit and could ask the department to help you be excused.
“Which is why we need to help cheer them up!” She countered, sending you a wide yet strained smile, forcing you to shut up and bend to her will, chuckling to yourself as you cuddled into the blanket, closing your eyes just for a moment as you waited for the team to arrive.
Not even a minute later, the doors creaked open.
“Hello! Hi! Welcome everyone! Hello!” Your head jutted upwards when you heard Garcia exclaim, body jolting straight so you could face the team in front of you.
Agent Prentiss, Morgan, and Jareau all laughed at Garcia’s greeting, with Agent Hotchner giving her a firm nod, acknowledging her before his attention turned to you,
“That was good deduction, Y/L/N.” He addressed to you, giving you a slight grin that filled your whole body with pride, even if all you could return was a tired smile.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.” You said, voice as professional as you could make it in your exhausted state.
“Call me Hotch. No one on the team calls me Hotchner,” He said before gracing you with a full smile, which only made you feel more accomplished.
“Okay, sir.” You replied, glancing slightly to see Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, and Garcia all smiling at me as well.
“Oh, on that note, call me JJ. That’s what everyone calls me here.” She said, tilting towards you,
“Will do.” You replied, nodding.
“So, you’re the new technical analyst.” The source of the voice was an older gentleman with dark hair and a slight beard, his face appearing as if it had seen the worst that the world had to offer, while at the same time the owner of seventeen yachts. “Y/L/N?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Y/N Y/L/N, sir. You’re Agent David Rossi?” You asked, feeling nervous again at the presence of one of the agents, especially one who apparently was world-renowned.
“I am,” He affirmed, holding out his hand to shake, which you took instantly. “So, tell me, what did these knuckle-heads tell you about me?” he teased, earning a chuckle from you, pulling your hand away from him to tug on the blanket that was slipping from your shoulders. You wanted to be polite, but you were cold.
“All good things, I can assure you.” You smiled, looking over to Garcia out of habit. However, when you did, you saw a slight twinkle in her eyes, snarky and maniacal, in the most well-intended, Garcia fashion possible. You decided to follow where she was staring, and as soon as you did, your eyes landed on her intended receiver.
Oh.
“H-hello.”
Oh fuck, he was adorable.
“H-hi.” You could physically feel Garcia radiating from where you were.
“I’m, uh, Doctor Spencer Reid.” He said, adorned with a soft, half smile and a quick wave of his hand.
Ohhhh, Garcia was never going to let this go.
“But you told me to call you Reid, right?” you said, smiling at him softly. He looked stunned for a second, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide. He gave you a dazed nod, to which you didn’t know if you wanted to smirk at or blush, so, you decided to do both, looking at your feet timidly.
“Y-yeah. I did.” He finally chirped, his voice a tad higher pitched than it was before, for reasons that you were too red to consider.
“Well then,” Oh you did not like the airiness in Morgan’s voice either. “It looks like everyone knows everyone.”
“Well, we can get to know each other more later. Right now, we all need some rest. All of you have the weekend off.” You heard Hotch announce, followed by various sighs of relief and pure pleasure—that’s the most accurate way you could describe it—by the other members of the team, causing everyone to head to their desks tiredly.
You felt Garcia’s arm wrap around your bicep before she laid her head against your shoulder.
“Please drag me back to the bat cave so I can get my stuff.” She mumbled, cuddling into you, to which you giggled and rested your head on top of her hair.
“Come on, Garcia.” You said, affectionately, maneuvering yourself around so both of you could go back to the tech lab and grab all your supplies.
As you did, however, you quickly locked eyes with Reid, to which both of you gave each other a soft and timid smile before continuing your courses of action.
* * *
“Hey! Y/L/N!” You heard your name be called right as the elevator door was about to close, causing you to glance up in surprise. When your eyes locked with the warm brown ones of a certain doctor, your hand instantly reached for the elevator buttons and you pushed for the doors to open again.
“Thanks,” Spencer whispered softly as he got in, standing next to you in the elevator and waiting for the doors to close.
“No problem, Reid.” You replied, giving him a polite smile as the doors finally shut, and both of you started to descend downward. The both of you were silent initially, and at that moment, you quickly glanced over at the man, taking in his purple cardigan, the brown sweater-vest peaking from under it, as well as the sleeves of his white undershirt, and his leather satchel, which he held onto the strap of with two hands. With the addition of his converse, mismatched socks, one pumpkin themed while the other one contained math equations, and his floppy brown hair, the only thing that radiated from the man next to you was warmth, a warmth that competed with the pink blanket that was wrapped around your shoulders.
Oh, right, you still had that one.
“Is that Garcia’s?” Reid asked, referring to the suspected object.
You gave him a curt nod in affirmation. “Indeed, it is. I should probably give it back to her but its too warm.” You joked, causing both of you to giggle slightly, the young doctor giving you a soft smile that made your heart tighten.
Oh wow, he was adorable.
“You, ah, what you did during the case, that was really cool.” He complimented, looking up at you with appreciation and earnestness.
“Thanks, Reid. But I’m sure you have those breakthroughs all the time, being a genius and all.” You complimented, causing him to shake his head and smile.
“It was still impressive.”
“I appreciate that, Reid.” You thanked, looking at him softly, and keeping your gaze on him, your mouth slightly ajar in thought, to which he waited patiently for. Suddenly, your expression broke, and you decide to ask him now, or never, because what the heck?
“So…you like Star Trek?”
You have never seen a twenty-six-year-old’s eyes widen so fast.
“Do you like it too?” he exclaimed, voice loud and excited, causing you to giggle loudly.
“I prefer Star Wars, but—”
“What?! Why?” The way that he looked so wounded and sounded so devastated almost made your heart break if it was not for the current subject matter, which you were very passionate.
“Because Star Wars is superior!” You exclaimed, causing Reid to audibly gasp in offense.
“I couldn’t disagree with you more.”
“I am so sad that you believe that Star Trek is better than Star Wars, Reid. Truly, that is a great tragedy.” You replied in faux sympathy, causing him to scoff playfully before turning back to you. By this time, the elevator had reached your destination, but both of you were too engrossed in your conversation to care, walking off together into the parking lot.
Both of you continued to argue about which film series was better, animated, and passionate until you reached your car, to which you leaned against before turning back to the young doctor.
“Okay, fine. But answer me this: Sherlock or Doctor Who?” You looked at him challengingly, watching as the man paused his movements to ponder, expression frozen as he tracked through his mind to find his answer.
“Doctor Who.” You wanted to let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank god. For a second, I thought I would have to murder you, Doctor Reid.” You joke, causing him to smile at you broadly before laughing himself, making your insides to fill up with warmth like they previously did, smiling dopily as your rested your head against the window.
“I like Sherlock, but the tenth doctor is just—”
“David Tennant is a gift from God, I completely agree.” You said, smiling widely at him. For some reason, this caused a pause in your conversation, one that was not odd, but almost relaxing, natural. You were honestly taken aback by how comfortable and easy the conversation between you and Reid was, and you had a hunch that he felt the same.
“Ah, it’s getting late. You should probably get home.” He said, causing you to raise an eyebrow.
“I should get home?” You inquire, causing his eyes to widen and his demeanor to change.
“I-I don’t mean that in, ah, a demanding way, its just ah,” He was fumbling for a response, and you didn’t know if you should relieve him of his anxieties or let him continue out of amusement. “I-I’m sure you’re capable of taking care of yourself—”
“I’m sure that I am too.” You hummed, only causing him to spur further into his defense.
“I—Just, it’s late and unsubs are out at this time and—”
Of course, he still called them unsubs, even off the job.
“Relax, Reid. I get what you were trying to say.” You interrupted, your eyes softening as his body visibly relaxed, head drooping slightly as he looked down at his shoes, giving you a shy smile when he lifted it up once again. You returned him one equally as shy. “But thank you for looking out for me.”
“Ah, no problem…”
Then, you two just looked at each other, eyes soft and demeanors gentle, the quaint and quiet atmosphere that the nearly empty parking lot surrounding you in a serenity that made the situation more intense, but…warm.
Maybe warm was the best way to describe Doctor Spencer Reid.
“I should, ah…” You interrupted softly, breaking the quiet atmosphere that encompassed the two of you, to what seemed like Reid’s disappointment. But you didn’t want to read too much into things. “I should get going.”
“R-right.” He affirmed, nodding towards your car before looking behind him “I should get going too, enjoy the weekend before Hotch calls us in again for a sudden case.”
“Oh, god, does he?” You groaned and looked at him defeated.
“You sadly cannot control when a psychopath will attack”
“Those damn psychopaths.” You murmured jokingly, causing Reid to laugh. You let out another giggle before reaching over and unlocking your car door, throwing your bad into the backseat before turning to Reid once more, holding your blanket closed with one hand before extending the other out to him. “Well, goodnight, Reid.” You said, waiting for him to shake your hand in affirmation.
When he stared at your hand for more than a couple seconds, you could not stop yourself from being confused, scrunching your eyebrows at the young doctor.
“Reid?” You asked, looking up at him.
Suddenly, his head snapped back at you, then glanced back down at your hand, before unwrapping his hand from where it was on his satchel strap and taking yours, holding your hand gently as you shook.
“G-goodnight, Y/L/N.” He said softly, smiling at you timidly. After a few seconds, he stopped shaking your hand, and to your shock—and secret pleasure—he held on for a few more seconds, before letting go and quicklyreturning his hand back to his satchel strap, awkwardly rocking on his feet. “I-I’ll see you Monday.”
“I’ll see you Monday.” You confirmed, looking up at him.
Neither of you made an attempt to move.
“Hey, Reid?” You asked, slightly dazed at the continuous contact.
“Y-yeah?” He replied, seemingly as entranced as you were.
Whatever the hell was happening, you didn’t want to stop. But you had to go home. Your professor might kill you for not turning in your programming assignment on time.
“I really gotta go.” You giggled out, causing the boy to almost jump out of contact with you, pulling back his hand and wrapping it around his satchel strap. You smile at the flustered expression on his face, one that you are sure matches yours.
“R-right. Sorry…” He trailed, but you instantly shook your head.
“Don’t be. It’s just...I got this programming assignment, and my professor would kill me if I don’t turn it in on time.” You explained,
“Oh! I’ve programmed once. I programmed on Java and even was able to create a program where—”
“Reid?”
“Hm?”
“I gotta go.”
“Right!” He exclaimed, blushing ever so darker at his own antics.
This, however, got you thinking.
“How about you continue your thought Saturday night, at my house.” You offered, and for a moment, Reid didn’t respond, choosing to stare at you stunned. He started at you long enough for you to regret your question, considering it a mistake, before he answered.
“Y-yeah! Sure!” He finally replied, his face sporting a wide smile that immediately allowed you to relax.
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, umm, I’ll text you the address?” You offered, to which he looked at you awkwardly.
“I, uh, don’t text often.”
“But you text on the case?” You asked, puzzled.
“Yeah, but I don’t bring my case phone home.” You explained, to which you let out a soft breath, expecting nothing else from the doctor, with the minimal knowledge you had of him.
You hoped that the knowledge grew.
“Then…your home number? I’ll call you to tell you.” You offered.
“Can’t you just tell me now?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow, to which you shrugged nonchalantly.
“Yeah, but this is more fun.” You giggled, and he smiled in response.
Quickly, you pulled on your backpack so you could unzip the small compartment, pulling out a sharpie before turning around and holding it out for him, as well as extending your wrist.
He ogled the two offerings in confusion.
‘Your number, Reid.”
“Oh!”
Quickly, he grabbed the sharpie, and with a gentle hold your wrist, one that caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach, he quickly jotted down his number. Once completed, he let go on your wrist and gave you back your sharpie.
“So, ah, Saturday?” he asked, to which you confirmed with a nod.
“Saturday. Then I can show you how much better Star Wars is than Star Trek.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” You retorted playfully, causing you to laugh.
“Okay, okay, or we can watch Doctor Who?” You asked instead, to which he gave you a satisfied nod. “Cool…” You turned back to your car, knowing now that you have to leave, or your professor will murder you. “See you Saturday, Reid;”
“See you Saturday, Y/L/N.”
You could not help your heart from fluttering when you saw Reid stand in the parking lot and watch to make sure you left safely.
You also could not help the soft smile you sported once you got home and when you saw Garcia’s text, exclaiming about how she saw you and Reid, and demanded you tell her the details.
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alovesongtheywrote · 5 months
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Nightmare Academia | Spencer Reid x Reader
♥ Summary:  Have you ever seen the tiktok where that guy brings a typewriter to his class because his prof doesn't allow laptops? Yeah, it's that, but you are the source of the typewriters. In other words, you're Reid's worst nightmare. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]
♥ Warnings:  Descriptions of emotional vulnerability from a student to a professor, reminders that the world sucks and Gen-Z is fucked when it comes to housing. The reader is. Kind of Mean to Spencer, but I won't say he doesn't deserve it. Enemies to Lovers, but they're just Enemies right now.
♥ A/N: a couple things about this fic. 1) i have no clue when this takes place in the criminal minds timeline???? i just know reid took a some kind of leave from the bau, and this is what he's doing with it 2) reid isn't actually in this one that much. my bad. 3) i've got no clue what university these two teach at. i researched typewriters extensively for this, but i didn't bother googling universities.
♥ Word count:  2371
Series Masterlist
♥♥♥
“Alright, my little chilli babies, that’s about it for today. If you have any questions, office hours start now, and please remember there’s an exam next week. It makes me sad when you forget. Got it? Got it. Cool.”
Your students immediately began to stand and file out of the room. They left in groups. Some of them chatted amongst themselves softly, and some called out a farewell to you, but most of them were silent. One or two lingered behind to ask about the administration process of the PCL-R, but that was about it.
Except for this one girl.  
You were pretty sure her name was Opal. She sat near the back of the room in the second to last row. She got good grades and performed well on tests and projects- although she was a touch shy during the one presentation project you assigned during the semester.
Usually, Opal was one of the first to leave, practically running from the room, but today she just sat there, staring straight ahead. You watched her for a second, vaguely assuming that she had a question or something. She didn’t get up to ask, though. She just sat still, staring at her laptop.  You paid her no mind.  Sometimes your students just needed a second, and that was usually nothing to worry about.
You were just about to pack up your own things and head for your office when you heard a sob. You looked up again to see Opal just sobbing into her computer. You winced. A pang of sympathy hit you dead in the chest. University was just like that sometimes- and she wasn’t the first or last student to cry on campus.  
Shit, you cried on campus. Like, all the time. As a professor.  The previous Tuesday you thought about the two-headed calf poem too hard and you ended up sobbing in your office.  
You headed for the back of the room, leaning a hip against the back of the seat beside her. She didn’t seem to notice your presence. Her laptop screen was covered with detailed notes- it was honestly an impressive collection.  
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow, “Everything okay over here?”
Opal gasped, looking up at you with wide eyes, “I-I’m- I-” she sobbed again, “I’m so sorrrrrry.”
“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I’m crying in your classroom, and I’m so overwhelmed, and my next assignment is going to be late, and I’m so sorrrrry.”
The poor thing put her face in her hands and hunched over in her seat. You pulled out the chair next to her and sat down.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. University is stressful. It’s easy to get overwhelmed and crying can provide a cathartic release from that.”
“I- I know. It’s just so- so embarrassing.”
“Again, don’t worry about it. I literally cried in here last week.”
“R-really?”
“Mhmm. Now, if it helps, I can provide an extension on that assignment. Your feedback might be a little less in-depth, but that’s really nothing to worry about. Your work has always met a high standard.”
Her eyes somehow got even wider, “Are you- are you sure, professor?”
“Absolutely. It’s not a big deal- it might not fix your whole problem though,” you pulled your legs up onto the chair, sitting criss-cross facing your student, “If you’re feeling overwhelmed, the school provides free counselling services. They can help you feel less… whelmed.”  
Opal nodded, wiping her eyes, “It’s really just- just this one class I’m in. Our professor doesn’t allow laptops so I have to take notes by hand. But my- my writing is really messy, so then I have to figure out what I wrote, and-”
She was working herself back into a frenzy. You had to intervene. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Which prof is it, maybe we can ask about getting an accommodation made?”
“It’s-” she sobbed, “It’s Professor Reid.”
You froze. Opal continued to sob as a dark, heavy storm cloud rolled into your brain.  
“That fucking bastard,” you hissed, effectively shocking Opal out of her stupor.
“Wh-what?”
“This isn’t the first time he’s- okay, come on, follow me, we’re going to my office.”
Wordlessly, Opal put her things in her bag. You ran to your desk to do the same, snatching your keys and water bottle before heading out into the hallway. Opal followed diligently, but she struggled to keep up with your purposeful strides. Her face was still tear-stained, but now, instead of sorrow, her expression was the ultimate picture of confusion. When you reached your office, you swung the door open wide and ushered the girl inside.
In all honesty, you were quite proud of the space you had created. It was warmly lit, a necessary contrast from the harsh white lights of the hallway (you fucking hated those lights). The walls were decorated with your doctorates and neat little art pieces you found in various places. It was colourful and pleasant, and now was not the time to focus on your choice of decor because you were on a mission.
Opal remained near the door, watching as you rounded your desk and reached for something below it. With a slight groan of effort, you quickly emerged with your prize.
A vintage typewriter.
A heavy vintage typewriter.
You placed the thing down on your desk as delicately as you could. Opal stared at you in confusion as you beamed at the fine piece of machinery.
“Which room is his class in, I’ll have someone bring this to you.”
“Professor-?”
“You use it for one class, just one, and I guarantee he’ll let you use your laptop. Damn, technophobe.”
“I don’t know how to use a typewriter.”
You placed your hands on the desk, leaning forward on it, “Okay, come here then, I’ll show you.”
Opal timidly made her way towards you. You made sure to leave her lots of space as you ran through the tech tutorial. She picked up on it quickly, being the good student that she was. When you were done, you collapsed back in your chair, another bright smile on your face. Opal looked significantly less distraught, but still vaguely confused.
“Can I ask why you’re doing this for me? You- you didn’t even have to give me an extension. Why are you-?”
“Because you aren’t the first student to have this problem.”
It was true. This was the seventh sobbing-student-style complaint you’d had about him in as many months- and Reid had only been there for seven months.  You’d received emails, phone calls, and office hour meetings where desperate and devastated students would explain to you that they were falling behind. It broke your heart a little bit- and it pissed you right off.  
It was ironic that Doctor Reid had come straight here from the FBI- his technophobic nature was slowly but surely murdering your students, and now, you were going to murder him.
“Now about that extension, does five days sound good?”
Opal handed in the assignment two days into her extension. You smiled as you looked over her incredible paper. Your little scheme had worked. You hoped that Reid was pissed.
He was! Kind of. Not really.  It was a bit of a disappointment to be honest.
You had only known Doctor Spencer Reid for the seven months he’d been teaching alongside you, and boy howdy were you starting to hate his fucking guts. At first, everything was fine. He’d seemed sweet, and polite, and you were willing to overlook the whole FBI profiler thing to maintain the peace.
Then one of your students passed out during class.  
Thanks to his high expectations and fear of computers, there was a lot of shit for his students to cope with. The worst part was, you agreed with some of his policies- of course, you didn’t agree with the tech thing, that was stupid- but there was other stuff that you liked. He taught your students things that could help them improve- but at what cost.
Your formerly dim-eyed and sleepy students (let’s be real, they were never going to be bright-eyed nor bushy-tailed, they’re fucking college students) were now going through life in a state of anxiety that was not good for their long-term health. That was enough to make you hate Spencer Reid.  
And then one night, over a very full glass of wine you looked up his FBI career. You learned that the BAU used a private jet.
A private. Fucking. Jet.
They didn’t need to use the private jet. They could’ve used trains and it would’ve done the same thing. Shit, they didn’t even have to leave Quantico. They could’ve done their job from their main office. Most profilers do their job from their main office.  Instead, Reid’s team had dumped fucking jet fuel into the damn atmosphere because they fucking felt like it.  Not to mention just. FBI. Ew.
So, yeah. Fuck Reid’s three PhD’s, and fuck his ability to teach. You didn’t give a shit about any of that. You hated the man. You wanted to eat his heart in the main atrium, and given your way, you would.
Taking all that into consideration, it was only natural for the expression on your face to morph into one of absolute joy when Reid came to your office with the typewriter in his arms, and his tail between his legs.
“Doctor Reid,” your smile was a plastic thing, a false beauty with venom hiding beneath it, “What can I help you with.”
“Please stop sending that typewriter to my class.”
You opened your eyes a little wider, playing dumb just to fuck with him, “Typewriter? Whatever do you mean? I can’t imagine anyone in this century would even own a little antique typewriter like that thing there.”
“Little? That thing has to be over a hundred pounds- and it’s not antique, it’s-”
“It is literally thirty-three pounds.”
“Oh, okay,” he nodded. It was very clearly a ruse, “But how would you know that unless you own the typewriter?”
“I do a lot of research. That’s a 1960s Vintage Royal Empress Typewriter measuring about twelve inches in width and weighing thirty-three pounds and eight ounces. Y’know, now that you mention it, I’ve actually been in the market for a vintage typewriter.”
You put your elbows together on the desk and placed your face in your hands, “You wouldn’t know where I could get one would you?”
“Dr. (L/N), this is your typewriter.  Please stop sending it to my classes.”
“Hm, I guess it doesn’t pay tuition, that’s not fair to the other students,” you opened your laptop, “What class do you teach again? I’ll sign it up and pay the price in full.”
Doctor Reid let out the most exasperated sigh you had ever heard in your life- and that was impressive. You taught college kids.
“Why are you like this?” he mumbled.
“Pardon?”
“I said-” he at least had the decency to look embarrassed, “I said, ‘Why are you like this?’”
Your smile split your face from ear to ear. You emerged from behind your desk slowly, carefully, like a predator eyeing up its prey.
“Why am I like this, Dr. Reid? I’m like this because in the past seven months, I have had to deal with seven emotionally wrecked students, and what did they all have in common? Was it personal tragedies? The pure state of the world and everything in it? The knowledge that very few of the students at this school will be able to afford houses once they enter the working world?  No, Dr. Reid. The thing they had in common was you.”
“What are you implying?”
“Implying- what are you implying, he asks me,” you muttered, “I’m saying that your fear of computers is fucking over your students.”
“Studies have shown that handwritten notes-”
“No, no, stop. You don’t get to talk.  I’m talking now. Handwritten notes might be better for long-term memory retention, but not everyone writes as fast as you talk. Most of these kids don’t have time to switch their notes to a digital format! And that doesn’t account for shit getting lost, or students who get sick and miss class. Look, I get that computers might be scary for you, but in a climate where most of your students are full-time students, who take a mind-numbing amount of courses that cover incredibly difficult material, go home and struggle with the steaming pile of shit that is reality, and then head out for their part-time jobs- or, in some cases, their full-time jobs- you might want to have a degree of sympathy.”
Reid stared at you. He seemed unaffected. You wondered if that was because you were like, an entire foot shorter than him. You pulled up a chair and stood on it.
“Let your students use their laptops, or I swear to god, I will never stop sending the typewriter to class.  You will hear the incessant sound of keys clicking in your nightmares, got it?” 
He paused, his eyes darting across your face from your lips to your eyes and back.
“How old are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re standing on a chair like a child. How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven. Now get out of my office.”
He did as you asked. You could see a small smirk on his lips as he shut the door behind him. The sight of it made your blood boil, and there and then, you decided you were gonna keep sending the typewriter anyway because fuck that guy.
Still, over the next few months, you never heard another complaint about Spencer Reid and his technophobic habits. Your students went from extreme emotional agony to regular, day-to-day emotional agony. He’d stopped making them take notes by hand.
You were still gonna kill him just… maybe a little bit less.
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ldflow3r · 2 years
Text
Title: Colored Cardstock Saves Lives (not really, but it helps avoid questions)
Relation(ships): Derek Morgan & Emily Prentiss (platonic, adopted siblings
Rating: Teen
Summary:
Dad had gone to pick up Penelope and JJ from the mall, and Mom would be back soon from taking Spencer to redeem his Dippin' Dots gift card he'd won at the library's summer reading contest for the third year in a row, and- oh yeah, Spencer. Derek shared a bedroom with Spencer, which meant he would probably find out about the wall incident. Maybe he could deal with that eventually, but today, he would rather not try to explain why the anniversary of the worst day of his life caused him to punch a hole in his eight-year-old little brother's side of the room. Or, Derek has a bad day and does a not-great thing. Emily helps him out.
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