#dark!bau

[waywardsummoner46]

Our Beautiful Girl

Pairing: Yandere!BAU x Reader, Yandere!Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: “Do you understand, (Y/N)? You need only understand and you won’t ever have to think again! Wouldn’t that be nice? A life without ever needing to worry about a thing? No responsibilities, no problems, nothing to trouble you ever again.”

  Years of successful cases struck you as suspicious... so you began researching. You never thought your research would come to this. You never thought your life would come to this. If you managed to survive this... who would believe you?

Word Count: 2538

Warnings: obsessive behaaviour, coercion, slight infantilism, drugging, non-consensual kisses, non-consensual touching, manipulation, the BAU and their ideology in this is fucked up

IMPORTANT A/N: My mind is fucked up. Oh well. This isn’t my darkest fic but be warned it’s a bit disturbing. I will be more than willing to do a drabble series for this if people are interested or even more parts. I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

DIvider by @firefly-graphics​

Everyone had heard of the legendary BAU team. They were an extremely popular department of the FBI, being called consistently to multiple parts of America and the rest of the world on occasion. They never got a break and consequently never stopped helping people. 

  Every case they had they “found the bad guy” or “arrested the unsub” and all they ever got was praise and blind acceptance. 

  Surely you couldn’t have been the only one to think that their endless streak of success wasn’t perfectly innocent. Despite only being an agent in training at the time their popularity peaked, you shared your opinions only with your closest friends and that’s where they stayed. 

  As soon as you’d left high school, you knew that being a profiler for the FBI was exactly what you wanted to do, hearing of the legendary stories of how the BAU had yet again caught a psychotic serial killer or rapist or whatever the fuck humanity had spewed up. It was intriguing to say the least. 

  You’d seen pictures of the team in pictures and read about them individually in interviews. They acted as your inspiration for the job during your early years; whenever you found something to be extensively difficult you merely reminded yourself that struggle is only a step closer to becoming as amazing as them. This became a regular technique for you, often thinking and dreaming about when you’d finally qualify and be able to explore the world and help people in your own unique way alongside the current greats of the BAU. 

  The friends you’d made shared your opinions and ultimately boosted that attitude, mirroring it actually. 

  Everything was going great! Until it wasn’t… 

  The first seed of doubt was planted in your head when you decided to do a little personal research. You looked through the archives of past cases (even though you weren’t supposed to and miraculously had access to it) and counted how many they’d solved in total. After an hour of counting and three hundred successful cases in a row, your restless hands finally slumped against the many case files piled around you on the floor and you regarded them with a raised brow and slightly pursed lips. 

  Surely there must’ve been at least one case they’d failed? Or at the very least, not caught the bad guy or charged the wrong guy? 

  Apparently not if the information from the daunting files in front of you had anything to do with it. 

  The logical thing to do was to accept it and resume your life as it had been and continue to aspire to be like this clearly flawless team yet there was something nagging you in the back of your mind just to delve a little deeper. Search a little more. 

  …no one’s gonna notice three hundred files missing right? No, surely not. Alright they would but ten or twenty at a time wouldn’t hurt and they were just begging to have some action. 

   So that day you neatly reorganised the files and put them back where they belonged but remembering to come back for a few at the end of the day. 

  After a long day of training, it finally got to home time and as you waved your friend goodbye, under the pretence that you desperately had to go to the toilet, you made your way back to the archives only to stop short at the neat pile resting on top of one of the cabinets. Did you forget to put the ones you were going tonight to take away? Surely you didn’t. 

  Then again you were tired and a bit forgetful the past few days so the situation was more plausible than not.  Deciding to reluctantly shrug it off, you reached for the files after looking around to see nobody was watching you and stuffing them into your satchel bag, crammed alongside all of your other things. 

   Letting out a shaky breath of relief, you left the room and made your way quickly out of the building, walking quickly, quickly, quickly-

  Into someone else’s body. You glanced up with an apology on your tongue only to stop short at the sight of Doctor Reid. Instead of the smooth apology flying out of your mouth, you stood their gaping like a fish struggling to form a sentence. 

  He brushed off his shirt and straightened his tie before looking up at you, eyes widening slightly when they met yours. 

  “I am so sorry, Doctor Reid! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and didn’t see you! I am so, so sorry, I-“ you rambled and we’re cut off by him raising a kind hand to dismiss you. 

  “Actually the collision was both of our faults. Statistics show we’re more likely to bump into another person or thing when feeling rushed or anxious than when not.” He said it with such fluidity and confidence that you had to close your eyes and swallow to compose yourself. “On the bright side, at least neither one of us are hurt.” 

  You looked back up at him and smiled shyly under his easygoing gaze. Out of habit, your hands came up to the strap of your satchel and began fidgeting with it, “I’m sorry again, Doctor. Are you alright?” 

   “I’m alright, thank you. Are you alright, Miss (Y/L/N)?” He knew your name? 

  You nodded in confirmation, missing how he glanced at your bag, noticing the bulge and allowing his lips to quirk momentarily, as you silently pondered over how he knew your name. 

  When your eyes met again you realised that you’d been standing there in silence for a while. “Unfortunately I should really leave now. It was nice speaking to you and again, I’m sorry for bumping into you,” you stated as you began turning to the exit. 

  “It’s no problem, we actually evaded the high chance of one of us getting hurt during the collision so I’d say that it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Take care, Miss (Y/L\N),” he said and waved goodbye, leaving out a separate door. 

  You walked over to your car, opened it and plopped down onto the seat, sighing heavily and looking uneasily at the bag on the passenger seat, wondering what exactly you were about to do. Was it really a good idea? You’d just met Doctor Reid formally for the first time and he seemed like a genuinely good person, your developing profiling skills contributing to your evaluations, so you felt mildly guilty second guessing his and his team’s sense of justice. 

  Biting your lip, you sat in silence for a good minute plotting the pros and cons of your idea. 

  No one would know you’d taken them, surely. No one has any need for them, they’re old files for god's sake! 

  Well, no one has any need for them, bar you of course. 

  With a determined nod, you put your keys in the ignition and drove home, knowing you had a long night of reading ahead of you. 

It had been two weeks since you’d taken those files home. And it was nearly the end of endless files you’d found in the archives, considering how you’ve had no luck since beginning then you were starting to think that this entire escapade had been a mistake. 

  Tireless efforts lasting overnight were slowly catching up on you, you were overwhelmed by the graphic images taken and the details in some of the cases were downright horrific. Child pornography, rape, homicide, torture… there was nothing not on that list. The amount of bile and vomit that had been flushed down your toilet was insane. You’d concluded that maybe you’re more cut out for the action aspect of the job and not the analysis of dead, mutilated bodies. 

  Despite that your mind couldn’t help but dwell on your encounter with Doctor Reid. He’d been extremely charming and you’d been itching to just speak to him again. You had no idea why but there was something about him that was just so interesting to you - something that needed a little prodding. 

  Wrenching yourself out of your thoughts, you once again tried and failed to focus on the piece of work in front of you. It was an exercise to teach and prepare you to conclude a case therefore summarising and going into detail about every aspect. Without the thrill of an actual case you found this activity to be a complete drag and elected to ignore the work until an hour before the deadline which was next week if memory serves correct. Which gave you enough time to finish the last ten files in your satchel.  

  You’d decided to stay at the BAU late that night, coming to the conclusion that the work place would increase your productivity and reduce your exhaustion. Apart from the odd agent, there was nothing that distracted you from your work.

  Each and every picture from each and every file seemed to be ingrained into your memory; the horrors not something you’d forget so easily. It made you wonder though, how exactly did the current BAU seem so… at ease with everything they’ve seen?

  Of course, they’re not not unscarred but there always seems to be some undertone of something whenever they discuss previous cases. After all, that very undertone was what encouraged you to be breaking practically every rule of your training because something was just not right.

  About an hour had passed and you were finally on the last case file. Nothing struck you immediately (apart from a disheartening disappointment), all sections and pictures just as bad as the others. Nothing was out of the ordinary… except just one thing. 

  Anyone who wasn’t studying it as vigorously as you would’ve missed it. There was a… note, of some sort, at the end of the medical examination section. 

    Do you understand now, (Y/N)?

 “Oh, (Y/N)! I didn’t expect to see you here. Is everything okay? You look a bit… sick,” the voice of Spencer Reid made you jump from your shaken stupor. Seeing your wide, teary eyes must’ve been concerning for him. He immediately rushed over to you and began soothing you, stroking the tears from your cheeks.

  “Hey now, what’s gotten you so upset?” 

  You couldn’t do anything between your tears and quivering lips so you only pointed to the case notes, not caring at all what you’d be admitting to. His lips pursed as he looked at it.

  An eyebrow raised, he said, “Yes, this does seem quite concerning. I do have one question though…” Even through your terror, you recognised that this was where all of your years of hard work would come to an end; you pushed through your crippling fear and pleaded for forgiveness one last time.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant to! I just couldn’t help myself. I’m so-”

  “No, no, no. Breathe with me, (Y/N), you’re alright. It’s not that, it’s not.” Oh, that was a relief. What was it then? “It’s simple enough, so I’ll cut to the chase: do you? Understand, that is. It’s very important to us.”

  What? 

  Slowly, you moved away from his hands and reached a trembling hand to the gun in your pocket. “What did you just say?” 

  A tight smile spread across his face at your actions. He huffed a sigh, “You can be so silly sometimes, (Y/N). My question was easy! I phrased it as comprehensively as I could! Just for you! Always, for you!”

  An obsessive, manic look took over his face, his entire body language. This was not the famous Doctor Spencer Reid. He looked too insane for that.

  “Doctor, I don’t understand what you’re saying…`’ Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say as he went from looking loopy to completely livid and then to a twisted sort of affectionate. Him settling on that sent shivers through you.

  He took a step forward and you took one back, another step forward, another step back. You carried on like this until your back regrettably hit a wall -  you were trapped. Drawing your gun, you warned him. “G-get back! Don’t come any closer, I will shoot!”

  Obediently, he paused and smiled warmly at you. “I suppose it was our fault. The likelihood of you understanding our motives was seventeen percent at best but we were hopeful. Admittedly, it was a risky gamble and what must happen now was entirely avoidable but oh well!” He was still unbearably charming even when he scared the living daylight out of you.

  Neither of you said anything for a while; him clearly enjoying watching you and you debating on whether or not to shoot him. The silence was unnerving to an extreme you were unfamiliar with.

  A lump in your throat had appeared and your grip on the gun was flimsy at best - you couldn’t help but feel that, despite how you were aiming a gun at him, he was the one with the power in the situation… if only you could figure out why. 

  “I can see your clever little brain working from over here. As adorable as it is, you need only understand and you won’t ever have to think again! Wouldn’t that be nice? A life without ever needing to worry about a thing? No responsibilities, no problems, nothing to trouble you ever again,” he was crazy, positively psychotic.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t understand, Doctor Reid! What are you saying?” Emotional exhaustion nearly overwhelmed you but you remained strong. All of your research and now his behaviour was making you even more aware that something was out of place but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what.

  Too quick for you to realise, he’d strode towards you, grabbed your gun and forced your back to his chest - a hand calmly stroking your hair and one discarding the gun to the floor. You were screaming and sobbing like a feral beast and, answering your prayers, somebody heard you.

  Multiple somebodies as it seemed, the rest of Spencer’s team. Through your overwhelming distress, you didn’t notice the equally twisted fondness they looked at you with, only focusing on how other people were here to help. Reid’s next words made you realise the extent of the danger you were in:

  “We know, baby. That’s why we’re all here to help you!”

  We, he’d said. 

  All of the BAU were just as crazy as the others. Everything you’d ever suspected, ever hypothesised was true. This only reinforced it. 

  You felt a sharp prick on the side of your neck. Realising Spencer had injected you with some sort of sedative, you instantly began to struggle. His soothing words did anything but as you descended into an increasingly drowsy sense of panic. And as you finally succumbed to unconsciousness, you felt him place a kiss to your forehead, each of your eyelids and one lasting one to your lips

  “When you wake up, you’ll finally be home… and you won’t have to worry about anything ever again. Our beautiful little girl.”

[simp4eshal]

mornin sweetheart

spencer x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, reader has a messy room, kinda unrequited love but not really, it’s okay (I wrote this in one sitting when I woke up)

Spencer Reid yawned as he stretched his arms above his head, the soft cotton of his t-shirt caressing his skin. He'd been dreaming of something important, something urgent, but the details were already slipping away from him as he opened his eyes. The unfamiliar room came into focus, the pale blue walls, the messy piles of clothes on the floor, and the faint smell of lavender that seemed to permeate the air. As he sat up, taking in his surroundings, he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat.

There, in the corner of the room, was a figure. A familiar figure, wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy shorts and a lacy bra that left little to the imagination. It was you, it had to be. The way you moved, the way you held yourself…it could only be you. He couldn't help but smile as he watched you go about your business, tidying up the mess with such ease and grace.

With a contented sigh, Spencer patted the bed beside him, picturing you sitting down with him, maybe even leaning against his side as you continued to work. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt a stirring in his pants that he hadn't experienced in a few hours. Unable to resist any longer, he reached down and began to adjust himself through his sweatpants, his breath coming faster as he imagined what it would feel like to have you here with him right now.

As you bend down to pick up a stray shoe from the floor, your back arches ever so slightly, revealing the smooth curve of your ass, and Spencer's gaze is drawn to it like a magnet. He watches intently as you straighten up again, your breasts pressing against the thin material of your bra, and feels his heart race in his chest. He wishes he could touch you, feel your skin against his own, taste your lips again. But for now, he'll settle for this - the sight of you, looking so damn sexy and beautiful in your room.

Suddenly, you glance over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting his in the mirror above the dresser. There's a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Spencer feels like his entire world has just shifted on its axis. In that moment, he knows that he can't wait any longer. He pushes himself up off the bed, his erection now painfully obvious through his sweatpants, and crosses the room to stand behind you. His hands find their way to your hips, gripping tightly as he leans forward to nuzzle your neck.

"You're so amazing," he whispers, breath hot against your skin. "I just want to take care of you..." He trails kisses down your spine, feeling the soft curves of your ass press against his groin as he does so. His cock twitches in response, and he knows he can't hold back anymore. With one swift movement, he spins you around in his arms, crushing his lips against yours, his hand moving to unbutton his sweatpants as he does so.

You moan into the kiss, your own desire matching his as your fingers dig into his shoulders. You arch your back, offering him access to your bra, and he gratefully accepts, yanking it off and tossing it aside. Your breasts spill free, and Spencer's mouth waters at the sight. He cups one in his hand, rubbing his thumb across the hardened peak, and then takes it into his mouth, sucking greedily. You cry out, your hips bucking against him as your need spirals out of control, wild for him only.

He pulls back, panting, and looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me you want this," he growls, his fingers finding their way between your legs. You nod frantically, and he groans as he feels how wet you already are. Without another word, he pushes you back against the bed, climbing on top of you. You struggle a bit to get rid of your shorts, but once you do, his hands find their way to your core. As he caresses your entrance, and somehow free his cock of its confined space, and thrusts his hips forward, sliding across your lips before burying himself deep inside you. Your moans mingle with his as you both lose control, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels so right, so perfect. Almost too much.

Spencer looks down at you, his eyes full of love and lust, as he begins to move faster, harder, deeper. Your nails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake, and he feels the familiar tightening in his abdomen that means he's close. With a final thrust, he comes, his body shuddering as he releases himself into you. You wrap your legs around his hips, holding him tightly as your own orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure washing through your body.

You look up at him, your chest heaving, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Spencer," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your hearts hammering in your chests. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried deep inside you. "I love you," he whispers back, his voice rough with emotion. "I've always loved you." Silence grows between the two of you as you look at him, your eyes lightning with something more, but something you couldn’t say yet. And he understood, a small, calm and almost sad smile taking over his features.

As you both lie there, tangled together in the afterglow of your passion, he knows that there is more. More to the both of you, and that he’ll wait.

[candiehearts]

Living is the best revenge

Paring: Spencer Reid X Saved F!Reader

Summary: There was one rule — don’t get involved romantically with the job. It would cause more damage than good, that was something Spencer truly believed. However, a certain damsel in distress might have shift his point of view.

Warnings: Contain themes of; Kidnapping, acts of violence. Brief mentions of; near death experiences.

Taglist: Just ask to be added to this taglist.

I felt another tear fall down my cheek, while the man in front of me traced the dull side of his knife down my face. A cruel smile dancing across his face. He ripped the cloth from my mouth – allowing me to speak, but even so I couldn’t with the tremble of my lips.

“Scream for me.” What kind of sick twisted game is this? I could feel myself wanting to be sick, but I kept my mouth close. Crying silently.

“I said scream!” His voice raised, and the anger in his eyes flashed like a fury of lightning, and he brought his knife to my thigh. Ripping the skin and sticking it deep. “Plea– Please!” I cried out, my eyes burning, but not as much as the sensation in my thigh, when he ripped the knife out.

My head hanged, and I watched as the pool of blood bled off my leg. “There we go.” The cruel smile was back, and his sickly calm voice replaced the one filled with rage.

“Now, time for the finally.” My throat felt raw as I tried to beg him to stop, but he didn’t care. He grabbed the gun from his waistband, and walked behind me.

I felt the ropes, that were rubbing my skin raw, loosen. Soon after he untied each foot from the legs of the chair. His rough hand grab my shoulder so tightly – and I couldn’t even focus on that pain before I was reminded of my leg.

I stumbled – trying to find my footing, but the pain was too much. “Stand up.” His voice commanded that anger from before slowly starting to return.

By now I started to feel dizzy, from the pain, blood loss, emotional trauma. Take your pick. “I said stand up!” From the corner of my eye I saw his fist with the gun raise, his hold on my arm tightening even more. Then before I could blink, he slammed the handle of the gun onto my head.

I started to fall, but he kept his tight hold on me, and started to pull me down a hallway and then I saw a light. For a moment I thought it was heaven – but I was removed from that dream by the pulling and pain.

“Pick up your feet.”

Slowly but surely I placed one foot in front of the other, walking up the steps. When we were off the steps, and a floor above – you would think this is a normal house, and this man didn’t have a basement where he liked to torture people.

“Out back let's go.” He pointed the way to the back door, pushing me. By the time I felt fresh air hit me, I also felt blood slowly start to fall down my face, from where he hit me before.

All around us were woods, nothing else. You couldn’t even hear the crickets, but maybe that was blocked out from the beating of my heart. Scared from what could possibly be my last moment alive.

I felt him push me roughly on the ground, and even though I felt the dirt burning my cuts – I was silently grateful for the pressure releasing from my leg.

The world around me blurred, and finally focused on him. Right in time to hear the click of his gun.

“Any last words?” I slowly looked away from the blurring gun, and used the last bit of energy I had to look this bastard in the face.

“Go to hell.”

My voice cut through the night, rough, raw, most of all tired. His cruel smile turned into an pure evil smirk – and the universe had really delivered. “Gladly.”

Bang

The shot rang out, then another, and another. My eyes screwed shut, waiting for the relief of death. However instead of his gun firing off, it dropped from his hands, before his body dropped as well.

I watched as he started to cough up blood, heaving it, but that’s not what I wanted for his last moments. I felt myself push, and craw to his body.

I saw his eyes focus on me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “In your last moments, everyone, everyone, can see you for who you are. Even yourself.”

He coughed more blood out, and I saw him start to look away, but I wasn’t done. I felt my body move on instinct. I gripped his chin as hard as I could – making him see me.

“Pathetic.”

I felt someone grab my shoulders, pulling me away from him. “It’s alright. It’s over.” I focused in on the man, and silently pleaded. “I want to walk out of here.”

“Okay, alright. Wrap your arms around me.” I did as told, and pulled myself up, while he picked me up. Once on my feet – I felt myself start to fall to the ground again.

Instead of pulling, pushing, or dragging, I felt his embrace stop me from falling. And even though I was practically dead weight – he kept me up right.

Black dots started to fade into my vision, and a happy thought drifted into my mind. I outlived him, even for a minute – I won.

“Hey, hey, listen to me – focus on the sound of my voice.”

I felt his hand cradle my face, he was warm, and his hands were soft. “The medics are here. I’ve got you, I’m here.”

“Let me die.” I choked out to him, pleading for my misery to end. However I didn’t get an answer, at least not one I heard before I felt myself being placed on a stretcher.

The last thing I saw before it all went black was the burly-ness of red, blue, and white lights.

3RD POV

Spencer felt your blood dry on his hands, during the ride to the hospital. He had always made a point to not ride in the ambulance with a victim, let alone wait for an update at the hospital.

He should drive back home. He shouldn’t be here waiting outside your room, when he should sleep – before he has to work another case.

However this case has really struck him, he had seen so many innocent lives ruined at the hands of killer sadistic psychopaths, but the look of utter despair you had on your face before you blacked out struck him.

“Let me die.”

Your voice echoed in his head, a broken plea. And despite how much he didn’t want to admit it but when he saw you, you were so utterly beautiful. You had mascara falling down your face, along with blood coming from an open wound that no doubt gave you a concussion. Your bottom lip was busted – and you couldn’t even walk.

That didn’t matter though. Because he saw your strength, your resilience, and it pained him to hear at the very end, right when it was over, that you wanted to give up.

So maybe that’s why he’s here. Silently staring at the ground during the late hours of the night. Visiting was over – but he gave the lame excuse that he was FBI and needed to be with you the second you woke up so he could ask questions.

“Dr Reid.” He felt his head look over to the nurse, and she made a small tilt of her head, a gesture for him to come inside now.

His body felt heavy as he raised himself off the chair and walked into your room. You didn’t bother to turn your head to get a good look at him. Instead you just looked off to the side, your gaze unfocused because even though you were physically in the room, your mind was in that basement.

“Hello, I’m Dr Reid.” His voice felt tired, but that was nothing in comparison to yours. “When can I leave Doc?”

“I’m actually not that kind of doctor, a common mistake.” He cleared his throat before trying to put on a more professional voice. “I’m with the FBI behavioral analysis group. Can I ask a few questions?”

All you would have to do is say no, and he would immediately back off, but if you did he didn’t know if he could actually leave you alone.

“What do you want to know?” Your throat felt better, you were more hydrated, but it was still raw from all the screaming you did.

“Did you know the man who attacked you?” His face flashed into your mind, his cold eyes, and evil smile. “No. What’s his name?”

You finally turned your head to look at him, and instinct took over as he reached his hand out to slightly hold yours. “Elias Green. He tortured and killed three more women before you.”

“I survived. He’s dead and I’m not.” The room was quiet, and pure grief and anger took over your voice. “So why does it seem like he won? Why is he ruining me beyond the grave?”

“There’s not many people who know what you're going through.” You felt Spencer slightly trace one of your fingers. “But, the reason he’s haunting you, ruining you, is because you're just as dead as he is – and you need to find a reason to live. Not survive.”

Spencer knew what it was like, to be tortured – even when your torturer is dead. The only reason he was able to breathe again was simply because he had found it in him to stop surviving, and instead live.

After all, living is the best revenge.

“Are there any other questions you have for me?” You wanted this interview to end and yet, “No, I can leave if you like,” you didn’t want him to walk away.

“Stay.”

With that simple command Spencer pulled a chair closer to the bed, and held your hand throughout the night, and silently slipped out early in the morning when your parents came to check up on you.

Every night you felt Spencer’s presence. Everytime you wake up from a nightmare – he was there to comfort you. Then you were released from the hospital.

The first week out you didn’t see him, and to be fair you didn’t expect to. Despite how much you would love it. You never gave him your number, or even your address, email, the list continues.

He had no way of contacting you, and you didn’t expect him to. However it was taking everything in him not to use the number Garcia gave him.

Spencer was already working on another case. One that when he had finished he felt exhausted. Yet he could feel the piece of paper with your number on it, burning in his pocket. A constant reminder of you.

He shouldn’t get involved – it’s a bad idea. A mantra he repeated in his head. A loop, one that everytime he heard he resolved grew less and less.

Just how bad could it be?

Should he initiate contact? What if you wanted nothing to do with him? Surely you were trying to block out every aspect about what happened – him included. Right?

He walked into the flower shop, and he had decided on pink roses. They symbolized; admiration, gratitude, and budding romance.

“What’s the note you want on them? And where should I ship them honey?” His fingers felt for the paper in his pocket, and right under your number was your address. One he repeated, as he silently hoped that this chance he was taking wasn’t going to blow up in his face.

A knock at the door pulled your attention away from the book you were reading, a record playing faintly in the background.

Placing the book onto the couch beside you, you made your way to the door. You made sure to look at the peep window before you felt yourself reaching for the gun you bought. You kept the gun by the door, and a taser by your bedside, and another in the kitchen.

You cracked the door, keeping your arm hidden from the man – the man who held a bunch of flowers.

“Special delivery.” You silently grabbed the flowers, muttering a small thank you before quickly closing the door. Making sure to double lock it.

You placed the gun down when you saw his van drive away, and then took the time to appreciate the flowers.

They smelled amazing, but what took most interest was the note placed in it.

“Pink roses: Symbolic to budding romance and admiration.

703 - *** - 4074

— SR”

A smile graced your lips when you read the initials. SR. Spencer Reid.

Grabbing your phone you felt a slight flutter of excitement, yet nerves as you dialed the digits.

“Hello, DR. Spencer Reid.”

“Budding romance huh?” You felt your nerves vanish at the sound of his fumbling.

Spencer knew you would get the flowers today, but yet he had convinced himself you wouldn’t call.

He felt heat rise up his neck as he silently cursed himself for dropping his pen — causing ink to fly everywhere.

“Hi. Hi. I uhm.” He silently hit his head on the table as he thought of what to say. “Unfortunately uhm is all I got.”

You couldn’t help the light laughing leaving your lips as you decided to put an end to his misery.

“You know my address — how about I take you out to dinner? Call it my thank you for saving my life.”

Reid didn’t know what came over him, but he felt his inner Derek come out.

“Or we can call it a date.”

“It’s a date.”

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Spencer Reid Masterlist

[l0v3-qu4rtz]

Cat and Mouse

Summary: you've been chasing Spencer for months and finally caught him.

Pairing: Unsub!Reid x BAU!Reader

Warning: One use of Y/N, mention of serial murder, heavy cursing, weapons and use of them, blood, kissing, small make out session, heavy romantic tension, dark romance, UNSUB REID !!! Proofread with love by me, my best friend, and boyfriend <3

Word Count: 3.7K (holy moly)

A/N: This took a whole month and a half to write. It was mainly just procrastination and my lack of commitment to things. Anyway, I hope you guys like this, it took a lot of work <3

Spencer Reid is a criminal, a serial one at that. The FBI has been investigating him for months but everytime he surprises them and goes completely against the profile. He kills dead-beat fathers who abandoned their families. He thinks they're nothing but pigs who are cowards, abandoning their families when they really need them. He's been able to outsmart the FBI for months but not this time. You were completely obsessed with the Reid case, investigating every piece of evidence to the smallest atom. Hunting him every chance you got, every tip, every body, every city, you were there to try and catch him. Unfortunately, every time you failed but not this time. You were on a case in Columbus, Ohio when the police station received a call about a suspicious man in a motel. The description matching the Spencer Reid, you jumped in excitement and rushed to your Federal car. You instructed the police to park across the road and wait for a signal to come in. You waited in an empty motel next to his room, waiting for any sign of movement. Once you heard footsteps, you quietly snuck out and stopped the door before it shut fully. Your footsteps were soft despite your racing heart beat, you finally saw the curly hair you've been longing to see for what felt like ages. 

The sound of your gun cocking and fills the room, the air instantly becoming heavy and tense. He lets out a single chuckle. "Finally, Agent L/N." He says with a smirk, his back still facing you. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever gonna catch me." He teases, he was sort of expecting you. 

"Spencer Reid, put your hands where I can see them and turn around" You command before adding, "Slowly." You said slowly, your eyes glued to his every movement with a firm grip on your gun.

He lifts his hands in the air and begins slowly turning towards you, your heart beating out of your chest as you finally make eye contact with the killer you've been engrossed in. He has a wide smirk on his face as he finally gets a good look at you, "Is that any way to greet an old friend ?" He teases as he slowly takes a step towards you, not even remotely threatened by you holding a gun right towards his chest. "I'm actually quite glad you're here, but-" He glances down at your gun and the firm grip you have on it, "we both know that wont do you any good here." He looks back up to make eye contact with you.

You take a step back as he takes a step forward, your whole body tense and your grip only growing tighter on the gun, "Shut up, and don't take another step or I'll shoot !" You threaten, the smirk on his face only growing wider and wider til he becomes a cheshire cat like smile. 

He chuckles at your response, amused by your empty threats and tense posture. He takes another step forward as your back hits the wall. "You and I both know you won't shoot me, darling" He mocks you and slowly lets his arms collapse to his sides, "You had so many opportunities and you never seized them." He looks down at you, amused by the height difference. You were like a little puppy to him.

You lunge forward and push the barrel into the bottom of his chin, effectively putting distance between you and him from fully pinning you to the wall. "This time is different." You say, quietly and bitterly.

Spencer pushes and leans forward, his face only inches away from yours. "Oh, is it now ?'' His voice is low and teasing. "you've been saying that for years and look where we are" He chuckles before leaning in closer to your ear "You can't bring yourself to do it. You love this little game we play." 

Your gun is pressed firmly against the bottom of his chin as he leans closer, "you're nothing but a big pile of unfinished work." You spit out, your voice is bitter and callous. 

Spencer gasps and puts his hand on his chest, fauxing offense. "Oh, how you wound me" He mocks and puts his hands in his pockets, still leaning in. "And here I thought our game actually meant something to you" He chuckles and adds "We both know the truth, princess. You can deny it all you want, but I know you love our game" 

You quickly bring your leg up and give him one kick to his stomach, causing him to back up from you. You aim your gun and shoot a warning shot near him on the ground. "The only game i'm interested in playing is the one where you're behind bars" You aim your gun at his head. Your voice matches your face, stern and serious. Spencer's cheshire smile turns into a look of amusual at the sharp boom of your bullets.

He raises an eyebrow and looks around, putting his hand out in mock surrender. "Come on, darling, there's no need for the violence" His voice is dripping with sarcasm as his gaze returns to you. "You can never put me behind bars. All your other attempts have been futile." He laughs bitterly and shoves his hands in his pockets again.

You scoff at his almost narcissistic confidence, "I'll do anything I can to make sure you rot in prison like the piece of trash you are." Your voice radiating venom as you speak, poison dripping out of your lips. 

Spencer smiles and laughs at your threat, taking a small step towards you. "Wow ! You've got a fire in you today !" He teases "I always knew you were feisty, but this is a new record" He laughs as his eyes focus from your gun to your face. He smirks at the determined look in your eyes. 

You take a side step so you aren't up against the wall anymore. Your gun is still aimed and your grip is still firm. "You're a pig." You throw insults to try and shatter his ego.

He turns his body and smiles at the insult, his demeanor still nonchalant and relaxed. "A pig ? Wow how original, princess." He chuckles darkly, taking small slow strides towards you. "You can call me whatever you want, baby" he pauses and looks down at the floor for a second. "But you can't hide the fact that you're attracted to me." He finally says what's been on his mind the whole time he's known you.

You scrunch your face and shoot off another warning shot, this one blasting right past Spencer's face and grazing his ear. Burning at the flesh of his earlobes, making his crimson red blossom. "You're so full of yourself, classic narcissist" You say and laugh sarcastically as he brings his hand up and lightly touches his bloody earlobe.

His face twitches as the bullet burns his ear. He smiles, assumed by the sudden blood. He rolls his eyes at your comment and continues walking his long lanky legs over to you. His grin widening with each step. "Your confidence is bullshit. You think killing fathers who do wrong makes you so righteous, when in reality you're just as bad as they are." You spit angrily at him.

He raises his eyebrows and laughs darkly. "Oh now you're tryna lecture me on morality ? That's quite rich coming from a federal agent who's been hunting me for months." He retorts and steps even closer "Your hands are just as dirty as mine" he smirks, pulling his hands out and making sarcastic jazz hands.

You flash him a fake smile, "at least I can wash mine by saving people and putting pieces of shit like you in prison." Your voice slowly raises as you continue to spit insults at him. You snarl, scrunching your face in disgust as he leans closer and closer.

He snorts slightly, ”Your typical hero complex” He steps closer, the height difference making him tower over you more and more with every step closer. “Let's be real, here darling. You love chasing me around like a lost little puppy. You don't actually want to see me in prison because that means you lose your favorite game”  He mocks you and laughs darkly.

You push your barrel into his chest, your grip tightens as he gets closer and closer. Your breath is shallow and rough. “Self projection, much ?” You respond, your tone sarcastic and disgusted, “Me putting you in prison means I win. It's not your place to get rid of bad people '' Your tone is firm as if you're getting on to a child who did something wrong.

Spencer laughs, amused by the banter filling the lone apartment. “Winning ?” He asks rhetorically “You really think you're going to win ? That you can just lock me up and put me in the past ?” He leans in and smiles, looking deep in your eyes. The gun pushed itself deeper in his chest. “You're forgetting the most important part, lovely. You've been trying to catch me for years and you've failed. What makes you think this time is any different ?” He asks, teasingly.

You gulp and try to calm your nerves by reminding yourself that a whole police squad is outside. “I've never had a gun pointed directly at your heart until now” You threaten.

“Ah yes, the almighty gun” Spencer chuckles at your mention of the gun. “You really think that's gonna stop me ? You can point a thousand guns up to my head and yet-” He raises his arms up, “Id still be alive and well.” He mocks the way your confidence hinges on a single weapon. “You don't have the guts to pull that trigger” He challenges.

“I have twice now, nothing is stopping me from doing it” You say with confidence, referring back to the warning shots.

Spencers entertained by your confidence and laughs. “ Act tough all you want, baby. We both know that deep down in that burning center of yours...” he softly points in between your breasts and laughs at your flinch. “You don't actually want to see me dead, baby. You're addicted to this little game we play” He leans closer to you, his face mere inches away from yours “You're addicted to me” He whispers softly.

You breathe hitches at his closeness. “I hate scumbags like you” You seethe.

Spencer smiles calmly, unphased by your hard head demeanor. “There it is, your usual insults. Ya know that gets tiring after a while, baby” He smiles at the way your ears flush at the contrast of his name calling versus yours. “You're just in denial about your true feelings.” 

With one swift swipe, you bring your gun up and pistol whip him. He grunts in pain as the butt of your gun makes contact with his forehead and he stumbles backward. You quickly back up more and aim your gun back at him. Spencer lays his head on the wound, blood trickling down and filling his palm. Even with a gash in his head, he still looks up at you with a mischievous smirk. 

“You could've asked nicely if you wanted to hit me, darling” He wipes away the blood and puts his hands in the air again. His cockness and nonchalant behavior only makes you more pissed off.

“The only reason I haven't killed you is because I wanna be able to watch as you age in prison and become a sad shell of a person.” You spit, hoping to crack his pride even just a little bit.

Yet, somehow all your threats only succeed to make him even more cocky. He chuckles for the millionth time. “Ah, of course...” He begins, his tone sprinkles with fondness. “The classic watch your enemy rot in prison tactics.” He takes a sharp breath in through his teeth. “It's not exactly original but i'll give you points for effort” He shrugs as he mocks all your attempts to break his image.

“You're a bitch” You spit through gritted teeth as a weak attempt to break him down as much as you possibly can. 

He only laughs at your poor attempt, not in the slightest deterred by your repeated jabs. “Such harsh language, lovely” He takes a step forward, frankly you're amazed how determined he is to get so close to you. After pushing him away countless times, he still yearns to be close to you. You find this slightly enduring but you quickly push that feeling away. “But let me ask you something” He begins, never looking away from your eyes.”Why do you keep pushing your love for me to the side ?” If you didn't know any better, you would've guessed he was hurt. 

You scoff slightly, backing away again “I'm not in love with you” You clarify plainly.

Spencer continues to get closer to you, you're like a magnet to him. A drug he has to have on hand at all times. “Oh yea ?” He responds sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at your denial. “Deny, deny, deny it all you want” He says as if it's some matra, or a sick lullaby. “But actions speak louder than words.” He says lowly, his signature smirk falling off his face. His body is now close to yours, he lightly rests his hands on your hips and his fingers hide a spot in your pant belt hoops.``Your body language, your flushed ears, the way your breath hitches as I get close” He reads you like a book before reaching up and tilting your chin up with his pointer finger. “Admit it, You're already mine” He teases softly, his smirk slowly coming back to his face.

You quickly raise your hand to strike him across the face but he blocks it by grabbing your wrist. He shoves it against the wall above your head, grinning. “Ah ah ah, Naughty darling” He softly scolds you. “You need to learn how to play nice” His voice is teasing. He moves his body flush against yours and smiles. “We both know you like this no matter how much you struggle”

You reach your hand that's holding the gun to aim it at the bottom of his chin, but he also grabs that wrist. He slams that wrist against the wall next to you, knocking the gun of your hand. Your heart drops as you hear the gun fall on the carpet floor, leaving you helpless under his grip.

“That's better, lovely” His voice is low and smooth. “Now we can talk without you waving that gun all over me” 

You struggle against the grip, your panting and your hair falls in your face. “Let me go !” You grunt.

Spencer chuckles at your feeble attempts, his grip tightening and earring a slight wince. “Don't struggle, lovely” He says, his tone bordering on mocking and reassuring. He pushes his body more against yours, pinning your whole body to the wall. “Relax, I won't hurt you… unless you ask me too” He winks.

Your breathing is labored and shallow. You met his eyes with hate. “Youre sick” You spit lowly.

Spencer continues to be amused by your attempts to defy him. He leans in closer, his face so close to yours. “Look at you. All worked up and out of breath. Your body is betraying your words” He teases as his eyes trail up and down your face. He smiles as he watches your face contorted with anger and stubbornness.

You jerk your neck and spit in his face. Your salvia landing under his left eyes and he narrows his eyes. His confidence mixes with anger but he doesnt let your wrist go, instead his grip tightens and pushes you harder into the wall.You yelp and whimper at the tight grip, sure it'll leave bruises. “You really know how to get under my skin, don't you ?” He growls as you try to push yourself into the wall to get as far as you can away from his touch.

“Let go !” You scream and try your best to wiggle out of his grip.

Spencer simply ignores your cries and pleads. He tightens his grip even further, causing you to wince. You feel your hands go numb as the blood stops circulating. You raise your gaze, your hands and see your hands have gone pale. “Ah ah ah, you're not going anywhere” His voice is smooth and authoritative. “I have you exactly where I want you” He chuckles, leaning close to your ear and his breath grazes your neck “And you're enjoying every second of this, aren't you ?” He teases.

“Fuck you” Your snarl through quick, exhausted breathes. You try to jut your foot and legs out to kick him but he quickly pins them to the wall with his knees. Keeping you completely trapped. 

Spencer smirks at your defiant language and coos. “Such dirty profanity coming from those pretty lips of yours''. He pulls away from your ear and looks between your eyes down to your lips. “That hot-headed attitude of yours won't do you any good, and I bet you know that. You know you're all mine, whether you like it or not '' He says, his breath filling your nose with coffee and subtle mint.

“You don't own me” You softly claim, feeling as if your hands have been cut off and it's making you slightly dizzy.

Spencer laughs darkly as he notices how faint you are becoming. “But I do.” He counteracts your claim. “Even your body agrees with me. You're all mine” He smirks and leans closer. His eyes flicker to your lips then back your eyes.

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to regain your composure as much as you can. You slam your forehead against his, instantly regretting it as it makes you feel even dizzier. The center of your forehead throbs with pain. He winces but he doesn't let go, much to your disappointment. He grunts, feeling the pang in his forehead then he smirks. “There's my feisty girl, the one that I love. You really know how to keep me on my toes, angel” He presses his body impossibly close to yours, pinning you tightly against the wall.”But you know what they say about playing with fire…” He leans in close to your ear, dropping his voice to a deep whisper “It's only a matter of time before you get burned’

The side of your cheek is pressed against the wall, your head turned to avoid being too close to him. Your breath is quick and shallow, feeling completely defenseless and at the complete mercy of this serial killer who was responsible for the death of several men. You dig your top teeth into the skin just below your bottom lip as your brain searches for any possible way to regain control. “Okay ! Okay..” You begin, your voice is full of defeat as you surrender. “Maybe I like investigating you and chasing you down” You admit, still very angry and annoyed.

Spencer grins at your admission, his pupils filled with mirth. “That's better, angel. It's about time you admit it. You enjoy the chase as much as I do. You love tracking me down and constantly failing.” He chuckles and you turn your head to face him head on. Your brows are furrowed and every muscle of your face is filled with animosity. “But you know what I love most about our game ?” He asks rhetorically “Is the fact that you're just as obsessed with me as I am with you” He leans in closer and his nose lightly brushes against yours. 

“You're a creep” You insult him softly, almost as if your breath is being pulled out of you as he gets closer and closer to you.

Spencer lets out a small puff of air, amused by your half-assed insult. He can sense the fact that your walls are beginning to crumble and fall. The change in your voice and the way you're out of breath fills him with amusement and a weird sense of hope. “Just give in, darling. Stop fighting it.” His voice is almost pleading and beckoning.

Without a second thought or a second to waste, you suddenly slam your lips onto his with searing passion. He's taken aback but quickly recovers, returning the action with just as much intensity. He finally releases your wrists, leaving a red and slightly purple band in its wake and moves his hands down to your sides. His fingers softly grip the just below your vest. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss and you feel the tip of his nose lightly caress your cheek. He feels your heart beating just below your chest just before he pulls away. “I knew you couldn't resist me” He mutters against your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your tongue inside his mouth. He moans at the feeling of your tastebuds against his own. His hands roam your body passionately, then he pulls away. He's slightly out of breath and he looks deep into your eyes with animalistic desire. “You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, love” He admits softly and wickedly.

Your lips stretch into a smile “And you have no idea how long i've waited for this.” You reach into your belt holster and pull out a taser. You push the taser into his abdomen, your finger gripping the button, sending several volts of electricity into his nerves. Spencer groans and his body convulses as he falls to the ground. You pull the collar of your shirt towards your mouth, finally giving the command for the officers to move in. You move down to your knees, placing one on his back. He doesn't struggle as you handcuff him, grunting more than resisting. “You really know how to spoil the moment, darling”

“Glad you think so.” You reply plainly through labored breathing. You secure the cuffs and stand up, watching cops take him away. He takes one last look at you, almost as if he was taking a mental picture of you in your current state. Messy hair, Smudged lipstick, disheveled clothes all make him wanna break free and tear you up. He smirks and lets out a single chuckle.

“This isn't over, love. Not by a long shot”

[zvdvdlvr]

relapse

You promised you wouldn’t relapse. Promised yourself that you would block his phone number, cut off all ties from Spencer and his FBI coworkers. You told yourself that even though he fucked you better than anyone else ever could, the heartache the next day wasn’t worth the sex.

But you couldn’t get over him. You wanted to kick yourself for always finding your way outside the building, eyes watching Spencer’s lanky, curly-haired form enter his car and drive home. Or to the home of whoever’s bed he was warming.

And even now, hand between your thighs stroking the fire you knew would be the end of you, you texted him.

You: are you awake?

You didn’t have to wait a second before your phone dinged.

Spencer (DO NOT TEXT): On my way.

You groaned and leaned your head back. Just one night, you reasoned. This would be the last time. 

[supercriminalbean]

Hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Hotch x Male reader, the team get a case that leads back to an old unsolved case of a group of children going missing and start showing up dead at different ages from sever injuries from fighting(?)

Reader is part of the bau but has alot of secrets to hide including being one of the younger children that went missing and managed to escape but not without physical and emotional scars (being forced to play a cruel game of survival of the fittest for the entertainment of the Unsub who streamed the gruesome cruelty)

Maybe the unsub captures reader cause he was the one that got away and the team start to peice together reader was one of the missing kids by how fast reader state of mind went to a primal kill or die (like readers afraid he'll die there and no one will ever find him or know or care so when they do he's relived and breaks down but another part of him think he doesn't deserve it cause of what he's done to survive)

Hotch being there for reader

FIGHT CLUB

Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader.

Summary: The reader is trying to find the group that ruin his life, but keeping it a secret from his team is differcult when he has to ask them for help.

Warning: Dark fic. Blood, fighting, death, abuse, kidnapping, swearing, drugs, unsub violence, bad eatting habits, bad self care, scars, angst. This whole fic is just dark and strange the ask it self is amazing and may help you know if this is something you can handle. (Any other warnings let me know xx)

Words: 9.4k

A/N: Hiiii! Omg this ask 😍😍 I love you!! I had to split this into a couple different parts due to I'm up to 12k words and got so much more i wanna add to it right now. Next part will be posted next week (hopefully!!) I just couldn't wait to post this. I did change it a little and hope this is what you were after. 🖤🖤 thank you for the request my love.

Part two. Part three. Part four.

Another body has shown up, and if you're right another kid will go missing in just a couple hours a few towns over from the latest body. You know it's just a matter of time as you read the article, one that barely has any information of the latest victim found, another teen boy. While the article prints out you give the detective on the case a call, you know you shouldn't, you should just let this go until your team is called in properly. But hey, there is no harm in asking innocent questions, is there? 

“Hello, this is Detective Rose,” An older man answers.

“Hello Detective, I'm with the FBI, SSA agent (Y/L) from the Bau unit” Your voice comes out sharp as you hold back the emotions swirling in your mind. If this is the group you believe it is, you're going to have to bring your team in, but no way could they know just how long you have been looking for them.

“Oh Agent, how can I help?” The man's voice is filled with confusion.

“I heard you found a body of a teenage boy, I read in the report he was badly injured and a 

John doe, look I think he might be connected to a case I'm working and I need you to send me all the information and photos of this boy you have as soon as you can” You don’t have time to explain to him, nor the patience.

“Case, but there's only one body?” There's a small arrogance laying under his tone as he speaks his next words. “Plus he seems to be a runaway, he doesn’t seem like the type anyone would be after”

“Excuse me” You can’t help but sneer into the phone, anger filling you up. “How dare you, he is a child, someone has to be missing him and even if not he deserves justice, so I figure you better send me what I asked for before I called your boss” Venom seems to drip from your words as your grip the phone like your life depends on it. Silence fills the other end and your patience seems to dry up, opening your mouth to send him another order when he finally speaks up again.

“Of course we don’t need that, files and photos have been sent, reach out again if I —” You hang up before he finishes speaking, you don’t need anything more from him. 

~~~

Sitting on your couch, your mind spinning as you go through the new photos of the crime scene you have received. This is it, this is them, no doubt about it. He fits the victimology, he’s the right age, fit and covered in so many cuts and bruises it’s impossible to see his face. What makes your heart drop the most is the cut on his left forearm, two other previous victims also had it. You know how they got it, hell you got one quite similar to it. Which means you know where they are being kept and where they are going next which means it's time to bring your team in. Grabbing the pile of older files, ones that you have collected over the years, pulling the top few files off the top for the team to see, placing the older ones at the bottom of your to go bag. You can’t let your team know just how long you have been investigating this case. If you do things could unravel and your past could be exposed, the one thing that could never happen, because if it does you might not have a job any more. 

Your phone starts dinging, your alarm going off. Great you pulled another all nighter, something you have been warned against many times in the past month. 

~~~

Hotch has been on your ass a lot lately about looking after yourself, he’s the only one who can tell when you're struggling. Maybe that's why you're having a hard time figuring out how to bring this case to him. You know he’s going to know this isn’t just a regular case for you, you might be good at hiding your personal life and emotions from the team but that doesn’t include Aaron. You're not sure how you grew close to your boss, you two have hangout, outside of work many times, even including getting to know Jack and spending many weekends watching his soccer games, and of course getting ice cream afterwards as a reward. Somehow Aaron managed to get you to join them both for movie nights and your friendship has never been stronger than that night. But then you had to go and ruin it, pulling yourself away from him, when things started feeling real. You started feeling like you belong and not just with him, but with the team you're surrounded by. Belonging somewhere is something you have never felt before and it's terrifying, so you pull away from them all. Space is a good thing plus there were only a few reasons you took this job a few years ago and you need to remember that.

~~~

You're the first one at the office that morning, even beating Hotch to the office for once. You wait at your desk, your desk is different from the others. They all have personal items on their desk, things that make their desk seem more welcoming and comforting. Except yours, its fill of paperwork and a small fake desk plant that Garcia placed there one day that you just didn’t have the heart to move. Aaron arrives not long after you. Aaron stops by the glass door when he spots you, and he’s glad you're facing the other way so he can just watch you for a moment. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, the last few weeks you have been more off than normal. You're someone who keeps to themself and he knows that, maybe that's why he was surprised when you were spending a lot of your time with him and Jack. Not that he minded at all, he loves spending time with you, maybe more than a boss should but he shouldn’t be blamed when it comes to you, you're different. But when he was spending time with you, he managed to figure out your tell, and how you go inside your own mind when things aren’t right. Maybe that's why, even when you started putting more distance between you both, he couldn't help but remind you to get some sleep or remind you to eat, the two things you always seem to forget about. Aaron lets out a small breath, preparing himself for whatever the reason is that you're the first one here. The glass doors open and within a second you're spinning around in your chair, and the first thing Aaron notices is the files in your hands and then the bags underneath your determined eyes.

“Good Morning Hotch” Your voice is full of energy, which he can only put down to the empty coffee cup beside you.

“Morning, you’re here early” Aaron stares at you questionably, raising his eyebrow when you don’t respond.  “Is there a reason why?”

“I need to talk to you, it's important” You jump up quickly, meeting him in the middle of the room.

“Alright, my office then” He bites back a sigh as you nod enthusiastically, climbing up the stairs before him. He can’t help himself but compare you to a puppy, one who uses up all their energy but still refuses to back down when it's time to rest. He’s waiting for you to burn out, it may have been three years with you on the team, but he can’t help but wait for you to break. He doesn’t understand how anyone could keep going at the pace you do without any consequences.

~~~

You both enter his office, Aaron places his bag down before taking a seat at his desk, signalling you to do the same, so you do.

“Okay so I found—” You can’t help but start, holding your own homemade files,your leg bouncing as you speak.

“Stop” Hotch holds his hand up to silence you, dread fills your eyes as you do. “Did you sleep last night?” Accusation dripping from his words, his stern stare digging straight into your sole, making a strange shiver roll down your spine.

“That's not important” The confidence seems to slip by as he stares at you longer, you can’t help but sink in your chair, the uncomfortableness just making you want to run.

“But it is, I need to know my agents are looking after themself” Aaron holds back the proper lectures he wants to give you. Sometimes he wonders how you managed to become a full functioning adult with the way you treat your body, running yourself so low he wonders how you're alive at all.

“I look after myself perfectly fine Aaron” You have to physically bite your tongue to hold back the taunt you want to say instead, but you need him to listen to you instead.

“Do you, because you didn’t sleep last night, and can you even tell me the last time you ate something homemade?” 

“Last night” Smirking cockily at him, you indeed did make something last night so he can suck it.

“It doesn’t count if it was your usual cheese on toast” Aaron smirks as yours slowly disappears. 

“Okay, uncalled for Hotch” Grumbling as you place the files down before crossing your arms. “Look I get it, I need to improve, but I need your help on something much more important, please?” Your mask starts dropping, the fear and doubtfulness visible for just a few seconds, before you pull yourself together again, your face hardening up again.

~~~

“Tell me what this is?” Hotch reaches for the files, the pile alot bigger than he first thought it was.

“Someone is kidnapping teenages all over the country, and just hours surrounded the kidnapping another teenage is found dead a few towns over from the new victim, I have found about seven different cases over the course of 18 months so far, but the dead victims are never the ones from the recent kidnappings, they look older almost like they could have been kidnapped years prior maybe, they all have the same marks all over their body, the victimology is the same” You take a deep breath as Hotch flicks throughs the file. “The ones being taken are either from abusive households or already living on the street, they aim for the ones who are strong but not confident, they seem to find the quiet ones are go after them, but they are quick, they don’t leave much room for the kids to escape, they move fast” Your words seem to run from your mouth, the rush to get out of your mind and into Aarons ear makes you forget to breathe. The urgency is great and he just doesn't understand. 

“You keep saying they” Hotch looks up the files, his boss face activated, his lips pursed together. His eyes burn into you once more, you have to do everything in your power to not physically respond to that call out, unfortunately your body straightens up, your throat clutching. 

“I believe it has to be at least two unsubs if not more, and one of them could possibly be a woman” You take a deeper breath as your heart starts to pace, your mind screaming at you to stop as Aaron's eyes narrow more.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because they're fast, they move around the country, and according to the autopsy the kids are well nutritious, they cause of death is mainly blood lose, or hits to the head, I think—-” You quickly cut yourself off. No you can’t say that, you can’t let that detail out quite yet, he won’t understand, no one will understand not yet. “I think they must be keeping them somewhere safe before they dispose of them” You change the words that almost slip out quickly, but not fast enough for Hotch to not notice. Hotch watches you closely as you grow quiet, waiting for his response. Your leg bouncing as your nails dig into your arms, your eyes begging him to say something, just anything.

“What do you think they are doing to them if they are keeping them for so long then?” His question is innocent enough, but oh lord. Your stomach is now on fire, your eyes darken with anger as you speak.

“Training them to fight each other, fight to the death and then they keep the strong ones for who knows what” Oh but you know, oh you know too well what they are keeping them for and that makes you want to be sick. 

~~~

Silence fills the office as he stares at you, the anger that fills your eyes is something he hasn’t seen before, and he has seen you angry. But this is different, this is almost a murderous glaze in your eyes, something that makes Aaron uncomfortable. 

He knows what he has to do, even if he doesn’t like it. 

“How long have you been investigating this, how did you manage to get all of this information?” His voice is low as he speaks, his words filling with disappointment as he speaks.

“A few months” A lie, you both know that. But Aaron knows better than to question that right now, the can of worms that could open could be too hard to close.

“Why are you just bringing this to me now?” His voice raises, the disappointment sweeping out. “You should of came to me as soon as you saw a pattern forming” 

“I know I should have, but I wanted to see if I was right, maybe see if I could find any clues before bringing the team into a goose chase” You try to reason with him, gulping as if you know what you have to say. “I think I found them, and if I'm right another person was taken last night and I have a feeling that another body will be found near the state line of Nebraska and Wyoming, we need to take this case, we need to save them” A shaky breath leaves you as you lean forward, placing your hands on the desk, your eyes pleading. 

“Aar, please trust me on this” Gulping thickly as you see his eye flash with something unreadable as you say his old nickname, one you haven’t used in months.

“I need to make a few phone calls” He looks away from you as he picks up the phone. Standing up you smile slightly at him, thanking him quietly as you make your way out. 

~~~

The team soon arrives within the hour, where hotch is up in his office on the phone the whole time. Your body is on edge, sipping on your third cup of coffee as your mind runs. The team all stood around, talking and laughing as they usually do. Of course they try to get you to join in, but with one glance at you, they know this morning is not the time to get you to join in with them. It's Dave that talks to you this morning, his eyes couldn’t help but keep drifting to you as the team standing around teasing Reid and his crosswords. 

“Hey kiddo” Dave stands in front of you, pulling you from your mind, and mainly your eyes off Aarons offices.

“Ah, Morning Sir” Forcing a small smile as you do your best to focus on him, and not whatever conversation is going on inside the office right now.

“How many times have I told you Rossi, or Dave is fine? '' He smile’s down at you, hating to see the bags underneath your eyes, or the fresh scratch mask around your wrist. You wear long sleeves half the time, but that doesn’t stop the team from seeing the way your scratch at your arms when you get overwhelmed. 

“Right sorry” Pushing a small chuckle out, as you give him a weak smile. “My bad”

“It's okay, are you doing alright?” Rossi looks down at you worriedly, you weren’t the most talkative but right now you don’t even seem to know how to be your regular self.

“Fine si– Rossi” Your body tenses at the slip up, your eyes flicker back up to Aaron's office.

“Alright, if you ever need to talk kiddo you know I'm around” He smiles at you, one that's full of concern. A part of him wants to reach out, place a hand on your shoulder so you get the message, but he knows it won’t work with you. You don’t react well to physical touch, you jump when someone gets too close. The team remembers the first time Garica tried to give you a hug, you jumped back, hiding behind Morgan who was closest to you in that moment. She touched your shoulders, and you have never moved so fast, your body tensing your hands rolling into fist. You apologised as soon as you calmed down, you gave them no reasoning as to why. But they understood and no one has tried to touch you since, they even became your human shields when random people would try to hug you as a thank you. You were extremely grateful for that, it's been like that for three years now and still no one asks you why and you owe them so much for that.

~~~

Hotch finally emerges from his office after another hour, a sour look plastered across his face, and when you catch his eyes you know why. They found the body. 

“We got a case” Hotch calls out to his team, everyone's head shoots up to him. A deep unnerving tension seems to fill the room due to the seriousness on his face, and the way his eyes never leave yours. The air seems to leave your lungs as you stand up, grabbing your notebook off your desk before following the team into the conference room. Hotch waits by the door as the team walks in, placing his hand up in front of you to stop you. 

“One moment” His voice is low as he speaks, not wishing for the team to overhear.

“We found two bodies, one of them is Jason Ducan” Aaron speaks softly, as he watches your face flicker with recognition at that name. 

“They found a body” You stare up at him, your eyes now empty of emotions, putting them on the backboard as you prepare for this case.

“Jason Ducan, he was my first missing kid when I worked here” Your breathing hitches as fear flashes through your mind, doing your best to keep your poker face on. Do they know where you work, have they been keeping tabs on you for the last three years? Or maybe they never stop keeping tabs on you. 

“He doesn’t fit the profile, he was seven, from a good family. He was too young there is no way they would take someone from a family like that, it would be too difficult” Your mind spins as you speak, your words speeding up, slipping over each other in a hurry. Hotch hates the far away look that creeps into your eyes, almost more than he hates the numbness that dominates inside you. Taking a deep breath, hoping he doesn’t make it worse, Aaron slowly reaches out to you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch sharply, your eyes narrowing on his hand, on his familiar touch. Aaron is the only one allowed to touch you, and only at certain times, only when you're ready for it, and normally you welcome his touch. Today is not the day you welcome it, his touch feels like fire, it sends painful memories of your past through your mind. 

“Don’t” Your voice is low and full of danger, a shaky breath follows as he doesnt let go immediately. 

“You need to tell me if this case gets too much, okay” Aaron words hold no judgement as he lets you go and just like he expected you stroll straight past him, anger radiating off you, as you fall into the chair beside Morgan.

~~~

Hotch starts the briefing, grabbing the team's attention with your homemade files. He informs them of everything you had told him that morning, minus your theories. 

“So you made these files?” It was Morgan who asked the question. The one thing that had confused the whole team, because this screamed to them as an off the books case, something Hotch would never do. 

“No I did” You speak up, leaning forward. You almost feel bored as Hotch gives the team the basic information, information you have been sitting on for many years. Everyone's heads turn straight to you, curiosity and surprised looks all over them. The quiet one who normally seems to keep to themself, is investigating a crime alone, and somehow convince Hotch to make it a real case. Oh you could feel the questions and doubt spreading throughout the room, and all you do is smirk at them as you lean forward.

“I didn’t think much of it at first, but something didn’t feel right so once I saw a second body drop in the same way. I started investigating a bit more, but I was always weeks behind, so in my time of hoping for new leads I went back and searched months back trying to find anything” You give them a brief explanation, making sure you don’t make eye contact with anyone, not needing to lose your nerve right now. The room stays quiet, giving you the confidence to keep talking, so taking a deep calming breath you continue. 

“After I got an alert last night of a kid going missing, I knew it was them. Conor Blue, he fits the description that the unsubs go after. He’s between the age of Nine and fourteen, he came from an abusive household and he’s into sports which isn’t always a go to, but something I see they prefer” You speak slower than this morning, remembering to breathe as you do. Hotch might be hard to convince, but making sure the whole team has your back on this case, is something you didn’t think through. You needed their help, because without the team, you can’t get close enough to get rid of them for good.

“How long have you been looking into this?” Emily asks, looking over at you with concern. She can see ghosts in your eyes, and whatever answer you give her, she’s not going to believe you. 

“About four months” Your lie is solided, you know that, you made sure all the files you gave them only look that old. Even if they have older information inside you can say it's from research. 

“He came to me this morning, and I have been on the phone with a few detectives” Aaron glances at you as he says that, your stomach drops. He knows you used your FBI statues to gather information you weren’t supposed to have, opps. “And It seems to be happening all over the country, so we need to make a fast move on this case, two new bodies were discovered this morning” Hotch continues, the team watches you instead of Hotch. They all notice the tense look on your face, the way your eyes darken, your lips tightening as a way to stop yourself from interrupting the boss. Photos pop up on the screen as Hotch keeps speaking, your eyes land on the photos, your stomach twisting. Jason laid in the dirt, his body covered in bruises and blood, a hopeless look in his eyes. But what makes your mind ache is the body laying beside the ten year old boy. A 20 year old guy. He looks strong, someone who you know could only live that long in that place, if they were extremely strong and brave. The marks around his neck send a shiver down your body, your stomach swooshes so much you think you're going to be ill. He’s the only one that ages with that mark, and there is only one guy who would do that. He’s still there, and that's all your fault.

~~~

“So (Y/n), any theories?” Rossi the one to ask you, his eyes on the notebook that you're clutching tightly.

“Quite a few” You glance up at Hotch, silently asking for permission to take over, he gives a quick nod and with that it's your turn. “It's a team, I want to say at least two older ones that have been doing this for many, many years, and if anyone has lasted long enough they would train them to join them, using them to find more opposition. They need a good routine of fighters, more opportunity for them to grow” You speak in a matter of fact, your fingers tapping away at the table.

“What makes you think they are fighting each other?” JJ glances at you from the photos.

“Easy, look at them, there is only one way someone can get that many bruises and cuts on them. Also not to mention the autopsy results mention multiple broken bones that have healed, internal bleeding due to multiple blunt force trauma”  Your not sure why but air soon becomes harder to inhale, it feels thick and the room starts heating up. Everyones eyes are on you, but you can’t look at them so you're focusing on the files in front of you instead. “Also look at their hands, they aren’t just defensive wounds, they fit back, also they are strong, it's like they train them. Plus they are well nourished so I guess someone is looking after them, my guess is a women is one of our unsubs” 

“That’s one hell of a theory” Morgan says, his eyes burning into you. His gut is full of distrust when it comes to you with this case, something doesn't seem right.

“I know, but have a look and you will see why I’m right, also this case is nothing like we are use to, I have many theories and most of them are strange but, you can see why” You speak from gritting teeth, your hand now gripping the table in front of you. 

“We are going to Nebraska, wheels up in thirty” Aaron eyes stay on you as you zoom out of the room, dying for some fresh air. 

~~~

“Jupiter wake up” Her viciouses voice fills your ears, as a piercing pain invades your side. A sharp hiss slips through your lips as your eyes shoot open, your body shooting up into a sitting position, pushing the thin blanket to the side. Inside you feel numb, nothing inside you is alive anymore, years of training has made you the perfect soldier. 

“Morning Ma’am” Your voice is emotionless, your eyes are dead as you stand up looking up at her. Keeping your hands behind you, your head slightly bent. 

“We have a new comer, you are to welcome them this morning, I don’t care if they live or die just clean up your mess” Her voice is assertive, a cunning look on her face as she leads you down the hall and past the other trainee soldiers. Some of them are still asleep, most of them without blankets, only winners get comfort items. You stroll past the training room where your fellow soldiers are lifting weights before being allowed to eat. You glance at them a part of you wishing you could join them, but that's not your task this morning. Instead you get to fight, and you get to choose the outcome, oh you do enjoy these fights. You always win, and even better, it doesn’t take much effort. Ma’am leads you to the empty swimming pool, where most fights to the death take place. As you walk over to the edge you spot your opponent, he looks small and extremely frightened, barely a challenge. He’s already got blood over his face as he hides on the corner of the pool, the area where the bloodstains seem to be less. A small chuckle leaves you as you check him out, the thoughts of destroying him winding you up. Licking your lips softly before glancing over at Ma’am waiting for permission to go down.

“Go on, but try and make it fair” She laughs softly, enjoying the murderous gaze in your eyes. In a matter of seconds you're jumping into the pool, smirking darkly as you make your way over to him. The boy looks to be about 14 or 15, a couple years or so younger than you. He looks up at you, a confused and scared look plastered over his face, it grows when you stop a few metres back from him. 

“Y you… you're alive” His whisper is barely audible, but it makes you freeze. That voice, you know that voice, how? 

“Come here, now” You growl at him, gritting your teeth as you stare into his eyes.

“I thought you died (Y/n)” He takes a small step forward staring at you with hope. Oh how wrong that looks for a place like this. 

“That's not my name” You spit at him, a horrible shiver dripping down your spine. 

“Yes it is” He speaks more confidently as he steps closer. “Your name is (Y/n), we used to be friends” That name, why do you know that name, it's wrong, it's so wrong. 

“I don’t know you” You sneer at him, taking a step towards him, dangour radiating off you.

“Yes you do, we used to be best friends, (Y/n) please you have to remember me, its Ryan” He begs you to remember. You freeze, Ryan. You know a Ryan, but he’s younger than him, Ryan was ten last time you saw him. But this can’t be him, because that part of your life is long gone, and who the hell does this guy think he is turning up claiming to be a part of that time. You react quickly with a sharp growl escaping you as you launch yourself on him.

“I don’t know you!” You scream as you grab him by his neck, and punch him repeatedly with your other hand. You're a lot stronger than him, using all your strength to pound into him. You let go of his neck, he falls forward with a gasp, begging you to stop but it falls on deaf ears. You knee him in the stomach as he falls forward, grabbing his hair holding him in place as you let him have it. 

“I don't know you” You scream as your anger explodes. “I don’t know (Y/n)!” You shove him into the wall, his body slides down, so you kick him, as you scream repeatedly. “I don't know Ryan” You keep screaming, blood starts to pile around him, as you lose control. “I don’t know you!”

~~~

“I don’t know you!” A scream invades the quietness of the jet. Everyone's head turns towards the scream full of pain, landing on you. You're asleep at the back of the jet, shaking violently with tears streaming down your face. Aaron is up in a matter of seconds, running quickly towards you. The team stays quiet, letting Hotch take control of this situation. He drops to his knees beside you, small whimpers and cries leaves you as you stay dead asleep. 

“(Y/n), wake up” He places his hand firmly on your arm, giving you a rough shake. But nothing, you stay asleep but your cries get louder. 

(Y/n), open your eyes” Aaron shakes you again sharper and luck is on his side. Your eyes shoot open, breathing heavily as you scan your surroundings. The jet, you're on the jet, with your team. Oh shit your team, everyone is watching you, they stare at you with unreadable emotions on their faces, and you hate it. Soon you let your eyes drop down to the man beside you, fear enters you quickly, yanking away from his touch you straighten up quickly.

“Sir, I’m so sorry sir I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I am extremely sorry sir It won’t happen again” Your words fly out of you with fear, your breathing picking up, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you watch him, waiting for the punishment. 

“It's okay” Aaron gulps, hating the fear you're experiencing, the panic attack that’s consuming you. “You are okay, you are safe here” Aaron speaks calmly, taking the chance to place his hand on yours, he’s grateful you don’t pull back.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep” Your voice grows quiet, your lip quivering as the adrenaline dies down. 

“It's okay you're allowed to fall asleep” Aaron reassures you, his thumb running over the back of your hand smoothly.

“I am?” You look up at him hopeful, your eyes full of tears. You almost seem child-like as you ask that simple question.

“Yes you are, I only woke you because you were having a nightmare” Aaron smiles softly at you, hoping he doesn’t embarrass you as he informs you.

“Oh no” You yank away from his touch, panic filling you. You know you sleep talk occasionally, what the hell did you say?

“We all get them, its okay”

“No.. what did I say?” You stare at him with a look of horror. Aaron's face drops, he knows that look, he’s seen it almost everyday of this job. A look victims have when they open up to much of their past, scared their abusiver will come back for them.

“You didn’t say much” He tries his best to comfort you but he knows that determined look in your eyes. “You said ‘I don't know you’ ” 

A small sigh leaves you as you lean your head back in relief, that's all you said then you are fine, you can recover from that. “Thank you” You force a small smile, before raising your voice, turning to look at your coworkers who all seem to be pretending not to pay attention anymore.

“Sorry for disturbing you”

“You're not disturbing us” Hotch is quick to correct you, hating to think that you would think you're a bother. “If you want to talk about it–”

“No thank you, I’m fine” You interpret him quickly, a sharp glare and turning your back to him is all the dismissal he needs. 

~~~

You're in the SUV with Morgan and Rossi, heading downtown to the morgue. You sat in the back seat, reading through the Jason Ducan files, before sighing loudly and laying your head back. The two men in the front seat share some curious looks before glancing back at you.

“You alright back there” Morgan questions you, a small smile on his face.

“Not at all, this makes no sense at all” rubbing your forehead as the frustration causes another headache. “Why the hell did they take Jason Ducan three years ago he doesn’t fit the profile and they wouldn’t of dumped him like that he would of hide the body better, you would think they know not to show of the bodies we are investigating” You can’t hide the frustration and anger invading you, your hand squeezing into fist and you think back. He was a clue back then yet you were so focused on moving on you didn’t see it, this is bad. 

“Maybe your profile is wrong” Dave shrugs as he speaks, as if it's a casual thing.

“My profile is not wrong!” You snap at him, the anger burning away at your chest.

“I still don’t understand your interest in this case” Derek turns around to face you, a distrustful look in his eyes, one you can’t help but return.

“Well, no one was looking into it, someone has to care. I'm sorry if that irritates you Derek” Glaring deadly at him, as his eyes widen just slightly at your comeback before turning back to the front.

“I was just asking.'' He grumbles before glancing at Dave who is staring at you through the rearview mirror, watching as your face drops as you cross your arms. 

~~~

You are shown the bodies and as the doctor talks you can’t hear her, the words flying over your head as you grab some gloves and start touching the bodies. Three pairs of eyes on you, watching like a hawk as you move like lightning. Your hands travel around the older unnamed victim's neck. The dark unformed bruises with a slight cut you can tell were made with wire, your stomach spinning as you move away from it and down to his feet. 

“His neck wound was made by wire” You state as you kneel down by his feet, anger flooding through you as you see the scars. They are doing it again. “Holy shit” Your words are barely audible, but Morgan catches them, his eyebrow narrowing as he watches you.

“What did you find (Y/l)” Morgan makes his way over to you, spotting fear deep inside your eyes before you quickly mask the emotion once more.

“You need to ring Garcia” You look up at him, gulping thickly. “I think they are recording them” 

“What, how can you tell?” It's Rossi that asks as he walks over, joining you and Morgan at the feet of the victims. 

“Look at this” You show them the bottom of the left foot of the victim, where a big L is cut into along with the name victory which looks like it has been tried to be cut out. 

“Okay” Morgan looks at you puzzled. “How did you get that they recorded them from this?”

“The L, It means they lost, I bet they showed this to the camera to show them that they truly did lose this time” Maybe what you said doesn’t make sense to the profilers, but it's what they do. But they stopped, you know they stopped. You couldn’t find them on the dark web so they had to have stopped but you never relooked when the bodies started dropping again. 

“You can’t know that” Morgan goes to argue with you, a hand on his arm stops him. He turns his head to see Dave shaking his head at him. Morgan stares at him stumped wanting to argue but he can read that look in Dave’s eyes, there is something more going on here. 

“It makes sense, they can earn money this way and also they are sick twisted little fuckers who can find other twisted fuckers to enjoy in on their torment as well” You speak quickly as you pull your phone out, taking photos of his foot. 

“Okay I guess I’ll call Penelope then” Morgan sighs glancing at the dead set look on your face before walking out. You go to move onto Jason Ducan, touching his foot lightly before freezing. You stare at him for a few moments, your body frozen in place. He’s too young, his family loved him. How could they take him from them? It doesn't make sense.

“(Y/n), do you want me to do it?” Dave calls out to you kindly, breaking up your thoughts.

“No I got it” You reply letting out a small breath before pulling back his foot and taking a photo. A small W has been crossed out and replaced with a L, your heart crashing into your stomach as you see it. In a flash you're pulling away and making your way outside for some fresh air.

~~~

You lean against the SUV as you ring Reid, who is driving to see the other body that was discovered last night. 

“Hey (Y/l), You're on speaker phone” You can hear Reid smile through the phone.

“Hey guys, are you at the body yet?” You focus on slowly your racing heart beat as you speak to them, readying yourself to pass on the information.

“Not yet, we are still two and half hours out from the town” Emily response, glancing at the phone as she drives. 

“Okay that's fine, I just have a few things I need you to look at when you get there” Taking a breath as you think back to the cut on Jason's foot. “On his left foot I need you to see if there is anything cut into it, I am sending you a photo of the other two victims' feet okay” You quickly send them the photos.

“Okay I got it” Reid replies after a few moments.

“Oh that's gross” Emily groans.

“That's because you hate feet” Smirking just a little at her reaction.

“It's not my fault they are smelly and gross” She laughs just a little.

“Also you two should be driving through a small town called Cobar, it's a small town with a big population of homeless teenages It might pay to stop and talk to them, see if they have seen anything out of place lately” You take a sharp breath as a strange feeling starts filling you as you think about that place.

“Sure we can do that” Emily nods, her face tightening into a frown. “Hey, um are you okay?” 

“I'm good, why?” Your lips pull into a thin line as you line.

“Because this case seems to be weighing on you alot” She explains, tapping her finger on the steering wheel.

“Nope It's just another case, I gotta go” You quickly hang up before she can ask more questions. Reid and Prentiss share some strange and concerning looks as the phone beeps.

“What is he hiding?” Emily mumbles to herself as she stares out at the road.

~~~

The rest of the day goes by quickly, you three end up meeting up with JJ and Hotch back at the precinct. Rossi and Morgan go and talk with Jason Duncan's parents once they arrive trying to get more information from them. JJ works with other precincts where the other bodies and missing boys have been reported, trying to get all the information she can. You and Hotch work together trying to organise a timeline for the last 12 months, and with all the information you already have some parts are easy to fill in. Until he starts questioning you on the one part you can’t answer. 

“They shouldn’t be here, they should have gone east” Hotch sighs as you both stare at the map laid across the table. 

“I agree but they didn’t” You don’t agree with that, but according to the timeline it makes sense. 

“But do you agree?” Hotch looks up at you, doubt playing across his face. 

“What are you getting at Hotch?” Huffing little as you pick up your coffee, staring back at him.

“You said they would be coming this way, so why would you think that?” There’s his stern look eating at you. Making your stomach sink as you hide the truth from him. The truth is, you know their base is around here. This town is the first thing you remember when you escape but you can’t tell him that, no one can know. 

“I don't know” You lie, and it's a bad one.

“Don’t lie to me” 

“I'm not lying!” You don’t mean to snap at him, but fear and guilt were eating away at you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Then tell me the truth” His words are sharp and to the point, but his face stays calm, his eyes soft and caring as he stares at you.

“Fine, I had a feeling like this town means something, because look at the pattern here Aaron” Your shoulders tenses up as you lean forward, pointing at the map. “Look, they always avoid this town, and they always avoided leaving bodies in this state until last night so since they did that I decided to take a risk and wait for them to leave us something around here and do you want to know what I’m thinking right now” A smirk slips onto your lips as you speak, a feeling of excitement spreads throughout you as you share your idea.

“You think their base is around here” Aaron finishes your thought, not liking that smirk on your face. 

“Exactly and if they left us this breadcrumb it only means two things, one they are somehow becoming sloppy or two—”

“They know you are investigating them” He finishes your sentence again, dread filling him due to just how close you are to this investigation.

“Not me, but someone yes and we can use that” 

“How?” 

Luckily Aaron's phone rings just before you have to answer that.

“It's Garcia” He glances at you before answering it, placing it on speaker. “Hey Garcia, what do you got?”

“Well boss man, I got good news and some gross news” Penelope's sweet voice floats through the phone. 

“What's the good news Garica?” You straighten up as you hope.

“Well our unnamed victim is Liam Clark, he’s 19 years old and went missing five years ago in florida” Garcia informs you both just as the door to the conference room opens and the rest of the team walks in. 

“Alright, can you send through his family information please” You sigh, leaning backwards in your chair, the stress of the case becoming too much. 

“Will do my love, now are we ready for some more information?” Her voice starts filling with dread as she types aways.

“Hit us with the good stuff baby girl” Morgan speaks up, coming to sit on the edge of the table by the phone.

“Oh I wish it was good news chocolate thunder, but (Y/n) was right.” She sighs as Aaron phones dings. “I found their profile on the dark web and all their live streams have been saved, there are hundreds of them, maybe even closer to a thousand, and they got back many, many years” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t looked at them all yet but there are some that are over 25 years old” 

Your heart sinks, your palms becoming sweaty as realisation sits in. Your videos are still up, your team could find out in a matter of seconds what you are. 

“25 years…” Your voice is as quiet as a mouse, your throat tightening up as your team glances over at you. “How did no one see this?” Your voice gets louder, filling with anger as you jump to your feet. 

“They hide their tracks well” Reid speaks up, his eyes focused on you.

“Bullshit, no one can hide their tracks that well!”

“Okay you need to take a breath” Hotch gets up, walking closer to you. Watching the anger firing up inside your eyes.

“No, we need to find these monsters and make them pay, they have hurt and ruined so many innocent people's lives” You spit the words out, your hands squeezing into fist. 

“Is that all?” Morgan questions you, getting up, standing uncomfortably close to you.

“What's that meant to mean!?” Your body is already in defensive mode, locking itself down as Morgan has a determined look inside his own. 

“Well you seem to be hiding something from us and I would like to know what that is?” His questioning is dangerous, he steps closer to you. The rest of the room falls quiet, your eyes burning into his.

“How about, none of your damn business Morgan”

“It is my business when you drag us into it” He huffs back at you. “Just tell us what you're hiding” He steps closer, his breath lingering on your skin.

“Back the fuck up Derek” Your voice is lower, and full of danger. You can feel yourself about to snap and if you do, you don’t think you will be able to stop.

“We barely know you, so why don’t you just tell us what the hell is going on” Derek demands to know “What is wrong with you (Y/n)?” His hand raises up, and before you can process what is happening. Bam. Your fist collides with his mouth and you see red as he stumbles backwards. You follow him, a low growl leaves you as you punch him again, this time aiming for his eyes. He manages to block, trying to hold you back, but you don’t stop trying to get a blow on him. You can hear voices all around you but you can’t hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Soon there are arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you away from Morgan. You struggle against them trying to break free as you stare daggering at Morgan who is being confronted by three people of your team, you don’t recognize them. Soon there is another person in your way, your body tenses as you see them. They quickly place their hands on your cheeks which make you freeze, the anger vanishing from inside you. Your vision starts easing up and faces start becoming recognizable. The person who is holding your face gently, has beautiful eyes, and a soft smile.

“Your safe (Y/n)” JJ speaks softly, “Just take some breaths” You stare at her, and soon start copying her breathing. Rossi lets you go, moving towards the rest of the team as you calm down.

“Let me go JJ” Your words are as cold as ice, the numb empty look in your eyes being replaced by guilt and anger. 

“Okay” She takes a breath before removing her hands and as soon as she does you bolt out the door.

~~~

You keep running once you get outside, you don’t stop, you can’t, you just can’t. Your mind is spinning and the only way you know how to get it to become quiet again, is to run. So that's what you do, you run. The sun is already set so you enjoy the darkness as you run. You can’t believe you lost it and punch Morgan, but what the hell is he getting at? Now what the hell are you meant to say, what lie are you meant to produce that will cover your ass. You're not sure how long you have been running for, but you're running out of breath when you see a corner store and think oh why not. Checking you have your wallet you head inside grabbing a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. Walking back out you open it, throwing the rubbish in the bin before lighting it and taking a long drag. Closing your eyes as you inhale it, it's been a long time since you last smoked and god does it just hit right tonight. Slowly you begin walking back to the precinct, enjoying the nicotine hit. You know you're about halfway to the precinct when you decide to check your phone after feeling it ring a few times. 

Missed phone calls: Aaron Hotchner (6)

Penelope Garcia (3)

You're not sure how many smokes you have consumed already but the pack is way lighter than it used to be. You really should ring them back instead of lighting another one, but oh well you think as you bring one more to your lips. Pulling out the lighter just as a car pulls up beside you, groaning softly as you recognize it. You keep walking, not caring to look at him as he rolls the window down. 

“Get in the car” Hotch yells at you, following you.

“Nope” You go to light the smoke instead when he stops the car and gets out. 

“We are an hour walk from the precinct, get the hell in” Aaron doesn’t bother to hide his anger, holding himself back from grabbing that cigarette from your hand.

“Or what?”

“Or you're fired, and I’ll leave you here” He huffs angrily, seeing you weighing up your options.

“Fine” You take a long drag on your smoke before stomping it out and climbing in.

~~~

The ride back is quiet, as you stare out the window.

“How angry is everyone?” Your voice is quiet and empty. Almost empty because Aaron can detect a small trail of sadness and fear in your words. 

“Morgan winded you up on purpose, he pushed you too far. That wasn’t okay what either of you two did” Hotch ignored your question, because he knew you wouldn’t accept that fact no one is angry. No, everyone is just worried and concerned about you, something you don’t know how to spot or accept when it comes to yourself. He wishes you could just trust the team, trust him enough to let them help. 

“I have a past” You pull yourself closer as you stare out the window, thinking about your next words carefully. 

“You don’t have to tell me” Aaron quickly tells you softly, needing you to know there is no rush.

“And if I do want to tell you?” You glance at him quickly, and for a moment you forget he is your boss and see him in the light of your friend. 

“Then I'm here to listen” He smiles lightly at you. You nod quickly looking back out the window, and then slowly you move your hand towards him, which he happily takes sliding his fingers between yours.

“I was abused growing up, no one cared and nobody knew, I never told anyone” You stare out the window, emotions settling down as you speak. “This case brings back memories I never wanted to relieve back up, I have to find these people so that we can save these kids” Your voice is sweet as you speak, this is a side no one but Aaron ever gets to see.

“And we will get them and we will get them help” Aaron smiles weakly as he pulls up. “But once this case is over we need to get you some help too, okay?” His thumb slides over your hand as you glance at him. If only he knew that nothing on earth can help you, and at the end of this case you don’t think you will still be on this team.

“Okay” You nod forcing a small smile before pulling away and making your way inside.

~~~

You walk in quietly, followed by Aaron. The team is staring up at the tv, watching some of the latest fights. You freeze as you catch a glance of his face on the screen. You knew he was still there but the look in his eyes is killing you. He's gone, replaced by a murderous robot, his skills are fast and sharp. 

“Ryan” His name slips off your tongue before you can stop it, your body tenses up as you stare at the screen and the way he gets his opponent down in one quick move. Emily pauses it as everyone's head turns to you once more. This time everyone looks at you with concern as they see the tears forming in your eyes, which you quickly push away once you let everyone get a good look.

“You know him?” Reid asks you, tilting his head as he asks you. 

“Um y yeah..” You take a deep breath. “I went to school with him” It's a lie, but you know it's golden. “He went missing when he was around 15 years old, we were best friends then one day he didn't turn up to school and well” You take  a deep breath as Aaron leads you to a chair, your arms shaking just a little. “He was officially determined missing a week later, his parents were absent, they didn’t care for him” That wasn’t a lie, he told you about his parents and how much they hurt him and how they were barely at home. 

“Oh (Y/n)” JJ places her hand softly on the table beside your hand, not touching but showing you she is here for you. You give her a soft smile in response. 

“If he’s been there this whole time it's been twelve years” Twelve years, he is never going to be the same.

“Jesus christ” Morgan groans with regret as he looks at you. “That's what you were hiding?”

“I had a feeling he was there.. I was just hoping I was wrong” Your voice is weak and tiredness is starting to take over. It's been almost 48 hours since you last slept.

“Now we got a lead, tomorrow we get Garcia to look into him but let's call it a night it's late we all need sleep” Hotch states, everyone nodding in agreement including you as you stare at Ryan's face on the screen. That's all your fault.

[velvetm00light]

Rescue: Y/N's POV

gif: pinterest dividers: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism

Chapter Three of Save Me in Y/N's POV

Spencer's POV: here

Previous Chapters: one, two

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: You're abducted by a brutal serial killer who's been stalking you. In an attempt to survive, you allow yourself to imagine the comforting words and actions of your coworker, Spencer. After a few days of grueling torture, your team finally finds you, but not before the damage is done.

Warnings: Torture, kidnapping, dead parents, suggestions of sexual assault, knives and cutting torture, sense deprivation (sight), emotional manipulation, fear, grief. In future parts, will mention PinV, oral, domxsub situations, grief, bondage, physical harm, etc.

A/N: This one is a dark one, so please read at your own risk. If you still want to read the series but want to skip over the abduction, you're totally more than welcome to skip this chapter. This chapter is also written in Spencer's POV so you can read that instead or skip both all together (there is one important detail at the end so if you want to just scroll down and read the very end you can do that too:)). The chapters after this will be tamer but as always, warnings will be listed before the chapter!

YOUR HEAD POUNDS RELENTLESSLY as you come to, your vision blurry. Your hands are immovable, cold metal biting into your skin. As you attempt to move, you hear the rattling of chains above you which you realize can only mean you've been chained to the ceiling.

You attempt to get your bearings as fast as possible to determine if there's anything within your reach that can help, or anything that might tell you about this guy that you can use to your advantage.

Too slowly, your vision regains it's focus. You quickly analyze your surroundings, the chains that are hooked onto handcuffs on your hands are connected to a hook on the ceiling, the light wood table just to your left has a variety of tools laying upon it, the large barn doors, too far in front of you, the cold straw already numbing your bare feet. You feel lucky that he didn't blindfold you, at least. Small victory.

You look downward, feeling another small victory as you realize you're still clothed. Without a clock, you're unsure of how long you were out and how far your team might be into saving you. It could have only been a few hours, depending on how long the drive here was, how long you were out, and if he kept you out longer. To the left, just beyond the table, a wooden slat on the side of the barn is skewed, allowing you to just slightly determine if it's night or day.

The sun threatens to spill through the barn through the small opening, and you sigh in small relief, assuming that if it's still light out, hopefully it's still the same day and has only been a few hours since your abduction.

The barn door opens slowly and your entire body trembles. You can't decide which could be worse, him taking his time to torture you with the anticipation of what he's gonna do and when, or him bursting in here and getting to work. You decide to settle on the best case scenario for this moment is for him to take his time. The more time he takes, the more time he gives your team.

Your stomach begins to sink as you realize he might feel comfortable taking his time because he's sure he won't be caught. You shake your head quickly to rid of the thought, your team is the absolute best at what they do, there's no way they won't find you. Feeling helpless will not help you survive this.

The wooden doors finally open fully and you try to remember as many details as you can in case you're able to get away. He's wearing a black hoodie, but has the hoodie down this time to reveal jet black hair and a tattoo peaking out across his neck. He's wearing dark blue jeans, the kind most likely worn for farm work or manual labor. They're dirty and ripped in some places. He's wearing dark work boots, but you're unable to see any kind of brand name.

As he begins to walk towards you, you do the only thing you can to distance your mind, you profile. You study his gait, and notice he prefers his left leg over his right, considering you're in a barn and the clothes he's wearing, you bet he probably got injured working on this very farm. For him to bring you here, it must hold some sort of significance to him, most likely where he grew up.

The lack of farming equipment in the barn suggests he either can't do farm work anymore due to his injury, or he has another place for storage and this barn is simply for his disturbed pleasures. Considering his dirty work clothes and that fact that he's a textbook narcissist, you highly doubt even with an injury, he still does some kind of farm work, which also sends a chill down your spine at the thought that his injury does not make him an easy fight.

Once he gets closer, you continue trying to distance yourself from your body. His eyes are hazel, a coppery brown lining the irises. If he wasn't a serial killer who kidnapped you to torture and murder you, you'd probably think his eyes were actually kind of beautiful.

The stubble on his face is only a few days old, a small patch of hair no longer growing due to a scar on his right jaw. The tattoo crawling up his neck looks to be...a rose? An odd choice for a neck tattoo, but to each their own.

He stops mere feet away from you, not close enough for you to reach him which is a smart move on his part, you suppose. You've proven you won't go down without a fight, but hopefully that will make him more reserved with his methods.

A devilish grin spreads across his face and it tightens the knot in your stomach even tighter. He seems to simply be getting off on the fact that he's taking the shots and you have to suffer in anticipation of what's going to happen next. You keep your expression emotionless and devoid of the fear he desperately wants to see from you.

You stare him in the eyes, unwilling to back down or be the first to initiate the beginning of whatever he has planned. You're perfectly fine staring at him for as long as needed if it means giving your team more time to find you and yourself more time to detach.

"I've been waiting a long time for this," he starts. He makes no move towards you or to the tools on the table. You try your hardest to keep your emotions off your face and deny him of everything he wants. "Do you remember me?"

You squint your eyes and tilt your head to the side. Every action, every thought slowed as much as you can. You hum quietly, trying to seem unbothered to him. "Should I?"

"Yes, you should."

You play your little game again, squinting more this time and turning your head to the other side. You really have never seen this man before, at least not that you know of. You try to rack your brain of all the cashiers, baristas, salesmen, anyone you could have possibly come into contact to as long back as you can remember.

"Maybe you should jog my memory, you did land a pretty hard one. I could be suffering from amnesia."

He barks a laugh. "Do you take me as a fool?"

"Well, considering I'm not sure who you are, what your name is, or really anything about you for that matter, I'm not really sure what I take you as other than a kidnapper and a stalker."

His smile is unfaltering as he studies your face closely. It's almost impossible not to squirm under his gaze.

"I'm offended you don't recognize me, but I guess I have grown up since then."

Grown up? His comment takes you by surprise and you begin to shuffle through all the memories of your childhood as possible. Your parents were killed in a horrific accident when your were 6 years old which landed you in a foster family. Your memories of that time are just fuzzy patches of little moments. You had such a hard time getting through the grief that you holed so deep into yourself that it took years for you to come out, and you haven't wanted to even try to crack open any of those suppressed memories of your childhood.

"I guess I can't blame you back then, it must be hard to lose your parents in such a way."

This time, you can't keep your emotions from running all over your face. How did he know about your parents? You haven't even told your coworkers about it. "Let's try to jog your memory, shall we?" He grins and slowly makes his way towards the tools, knowing you're watching his every move and terrified of what he can do with each of them.

He runs a light finger over each tool before settling on a basic kitchen knife. Of course he would start simple, why get into the fun right away when he wants to make it last? He obviously wants you alive, so he isn't going to kill you outright, but he might just come close to it if he doesn't get what he wants.

He strolls casually towards you as if he's not holding a knife in his hand and about to probably do terrible things with it. He circles you like a predator before stopping directly behind you. You're unable to stop the rising panic at not being able to see him. You flinch as cold metal bites your skin as he traces the exposed flesh of your arms. He grabs the hem of your shirt and yanks it up, releasing a gasp from your mouth. He glides the blade gently over your back, a shiver sending down your spine. "Do you remember?"

"No."

He tsks and swipes the blade. Sudden pain courses through you as you realize he actually just cut you. He would most likely start shallow, but you don't like the idea of the increasing pain as you further slide into yourself to ignore the pain. "How about now?"

"Pain doesn't help. If you want me to remember, you should use your words instead." You grit out through your teeth.

"What would be the fun in that?"

He swipes the blade again in a different spot and you whimper. You remember the deep breathing Spencer reminded you to do just before your abduction and begin to utilize it. Your mind begins to wander to Spencer and how you just wish he was here to save you from this mess you've somehow put yourself in with actions of your childhood. You wish he was here to profile him and help you understand what they hell you did, what you're supposed to remember, and how to fix this mess.

You begin to imagine Spencer running his gentle hands over where the cuts on your back are, imagining him kissing them better. You close your eyes and picture Spencer in front of you, a sweet hand cupping your cheek, telling you how brave and strong you are.

You're snapped back to reality with another sharp pain, this time in your abdomen. Your eyes snap open and you're met with the gaze of your kidnapper. "No sleeping, just thinking."

You look down at yourself, a shallow wound sliced across the right side of your abdomen. Luckily it's not deep enough to cause any real bleeding, just small droplets poking out the edges of your now split skin. You steel your gaze and raise your eye back to his.

"I already told you, pain does nothing."

"We'll see about that."

He continues toying with you, making short shallow cuts around your body. As he continues, you continue to climb deeper down the hole into yourself until you're picturing Spencer touching you instead of a blade, his hands holding yours, encouraging you to keep going. You play out different scenarios in your head, anything and everything you can think of; telling Spencer that you've had a crush on him these past few years and him confessing the same, marrying him and having little brilliant combinations of you and him running around, all the dates you wish he would take you on, the places you want him to touch you.

"Why don't we play a game?" His voice comes from right in front of you, bringing you back to reality.

"I don't think we have the same definition of the word game."

"I'm going to let you ask any questions you want about who I am, but they're going to be yes or no questions." A creepy smile tugs at his lips. He stays close to you, fiddling with the knife in his hands as if itching for more. "If I say no more than 3 times in a row, I cut deeper and deeper each time."

"You're fucking sick," you spit. He just laughs in your face and says, "Begin."

You try your best to go through your memories, if you're going to play this sick game it'll be on your time.

"Did we meet as kids?" You ask first.

"Yes."

You lose a relieved sigh. "Did we meet before my parents died?"

"No."

The memories after your parents deaths are almost impossible to bring to light and you begin to grow frustrated. "I don't remember after my parents died."

"I don't care. Next question."

You groan and try to think. "Did we go to the same school?"

"No."

Your breath hitches and you remind yourself to tread carefully. The deeper he slices, the longer you'll have reminders of this and you're unsure if you'll be able to handle it. His smile widens, as if he can hear your thoughts and it pleases his sick fucking mind.

"Did anything romantic or sexual ever happen between us?"

His smile falls and you notice a twitch in his jaw. At least his answer to this will help you, if he says no, then he's angry over the fact you rejected his sexual advancements and if he says yes, then he is probably an old jealous boyfriend. "No." Well that solves that, you think.

He wastes no time slashing across your abdomen again, this time you can't stop the grunt that comes out. You don't dare to look down but you can feel the warmth of your blood slowly travel downward towards your pants.

"Did you make a sexual advancement towards me?"

He seems almost hesitant to answer, but eventually says, "Yes."

"Did I reject you?"

"Yes." His knuckles start to turn white as he tightens his grip on the knife.

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not!" He roars, grabbing your neck with a rough grip and lifting your face up to meet his. "Look at you now, I could do exactly what I've wanted to do since we met and you can't tell me no this time."

Your eyes widen at his implications. He drops you and sets the knife down on the table lazily. He slowly saunters over to you, running his fingers across all the bare skin he can see, then making his way down towards your pants.

"Get your hands off me!" You growl, bucking wildly, attempting to land some kind of kick to him.

"I don't think I will."

His hand wanders up the nape of your neck and into your hair. He twists your hair between his fingers and yanks. You yelp in shock. "I'll make sure to kill your little crush, when he eventually comes to save you if you keep fighting."

"What?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed. The way you two look at each other, the way you flush when he brushes against you. I know you're thinking of him right now, hoping it'll save you. It won't. I'm going to ruin everything for you so you're not able to enjoy anything with him."

"How long have you been watching me? How do you even know all of this?" You cry out, your heart threatening to break in two at the thought of Spencer's life being at risk because of you. You didn't even know that it was obvious how you felt about Spencer.

"A man never reveals his sources." He whispers, his mouth close to your ear as his breath travels down your neck.

"Please, just don't hurt him."

"Only if you stay still."

A tear slips from your eye and falls down the side of your face as you stare up at the ceiling, his hand still forcing your head backwards. "That's what I thought."

He releases his hand from your hair. You hear the sound of a buckle undoing behind you and you can't help but let the tears flow. You attempt to crawl into yourself, imagining Spencer here with you, telling you all the statistics and smart things he would probably tell you to make you feel better, all the love you so desperately have wanted him to give you. You drop your head and focus on the thought of Spencer.

Hours later, you wake to pure darkness. Your body is sore and your eyes feel tired from the tears that overtook them. You begin to think it might just be nighttime until you realize there's a mask over your face. He left a hole for your mouth, probably to get you to play more games with him that will lead to pain. You feel almost suffocated in it, unable to see if it's day or night, whether he's even in the barn with you currently or not.

Your arms ache from the constant position of them above your head and from the metal handcuffs digging into your flesh. You whimper as you try to move, your body rejecting all movement. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you begin to silently apologize to Spencer. You had no idea that just by simply liking him you've put him in danger, he could easily be in your spot right now if this son of a bitch's priorities had been different. You thought you had kept your feelings towards him pretty chill but your mind runs through all the small interactions you've had and how you acted. You're still unable to think of a reasonable explanation on how he could possibly know so much and how he could've seen you do it all. You don't recognize him from the Bureau so that would leave hacking the surveillance but he also just didn't look like the hacking type.

You allow yourself to fall into an imaginary conversation with Spencer in your head to help keep your sanity.

"You're so brave," you imagine him telling you, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on your hands. "You're the strongest person I've ever met and you inspire me every single day."

"I don't know if I can do this, Spence.."

"Of course you can. You have to. I need you to come back to me."

"I want to..so bad."

"Then do it. Survive this and come home to me, please. I don't think I'd be able to live this life knowing you're not here to experience it with me."

Imaginary Spencer is ripped away from you as a blow is landed to your abdomen. The air from your lungs whooshes from you. He lands a few more, and your body tremblings in fear as you instinctively brace yourself for more. "Having no sight really heightens all your other senses, huh?" He whispers into your ear.

He feels so close to you it makes your skin crawl and you wish for nothing more than to get as far away from him as possible. "You know, I'm actually looking forward to your team eventually finding out where you are. It'll still take them too long, the damage will already be done by then. Then, I can take away all the people who mean the most to you."

"Please.." you croak. "Please, don't hurt them. You already have what you want."

"You might be right about that, but what's a better final blow to you than knowing you caused this and you have to mourn your friends for the rest of your life knowing you're the reason they're not here anymore?"

You choke on your sobs, unable to even get a word out to beg for their lives. You know that you would never forgive yourself if any of them got hurt even though they would tell you it wasn't your fault and that you had no idea. You still can't help feeling guilty anyway.

A day or two pass, maybe. You're unsure if it's only been a day or multiple with the mask constantly on your face. Your kidnapper was generous enough to give you sips of water here and there but your stomach grumbles intensely with hunger. You swear you could probably eat just about anything to get rid of the feeling. Old blood is crusted all over your body and clothing, new blood still warm on your skin and soaking into your clothes. You feel as if you're starting to lose hope, maybe this guy really is too smart and covered his tracks. Even if they do eventually find you, will they find you alive?

You hear slight rustling outside the barn somewhere, your mind too scattered to determine if it's him or maybe some wild animal, or where the sound is even coming from. The barn door explodes open and you can't even find it in you to flinch. "She's here!" You hear a voice yell and within a few seconds, you feel hands over you, some untangling your hands from the handcuffs and chains, others holding you steady once you're released. Your body is so utterly exhausted, your legs give out on you and you fall to the floor. Arms are wrapped around you as they cradle you on the straw floor. "(Y/n)?"

"Take it off.." you whimper out.

"I'm trying..."

"Take it off!" You cry, ripping at the mask with your fingernails.

"(Y/n) please, I'm trying. Hold on.."

The masks finally releases from your face and the light is blinding but the relief is instant. A sob shudders through your body and you curl up into the person on the floor with you and release all the pent up emotions you've kept at bay.

"I'm here, you're safe now." A voice coos, a gentle hand runs through your hair.

Once you have no more tears left to cry, soft hands are placed on the sides of your head as they twist you to look at whoever they belong to.

"Spencer.." you choke. You swear you could cry again at the sight of him. You throw your aching arms around his neck and he embraces you tightly. "I'm so sorry..."

"(Y/n), why? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about."

"He..he told me he would hurt you, all of you, if I fought back."

Spencer's face is slick with tears and he squeezes you tighter into him. "I'm here."

You lift your face to look at his and he meets your gaze with sad eyes. The bags under his eyes tell you he probably hasn't left since your abduction. "Spencer.."

"Yes, love?"

"The only thing that got me through...what he did, was you." You confess, feeling your tears restock and begin swarming your eyes again.

His lip quivers as he digests your confession. "I am so sorry."

"You found me," is all you can say back.

Spencer releases you from his embrace as paramedics rush to your side. "Don't leave.." you whine, reaching for his hand as you lay on your cut up back. "I'm here," he says, grabbing your outstretched hand and squeezing as the medics begin their work of patching up all your wounds and transferring you to a stretcher.

Spencer doesn't drop your hand while you're rolled to the ambulance or while the medics continue to work on you during the ride to the hospital.

"I love you," you whisper, unsure if he could even hear you. You're unable to find out before sleep consumes your exhausted mind and body.

TAG LIST: @qatiee @dottirose @thisaintredwine @jay-2s-world @ruziazyn @jay-2s-world

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Criminal Minds ABCs...

Hi all! I hope you are having a good week so far. I made a Criminal Minds ABCs for fun. All of the ABCs deal with characters or concepts from the show. This took a long time to make and I'm very proud of it, so I hope you enjoy it! See all of the ABCs under the cut and all photo credits are at the end! Please be kind to yourself today and I am sending you a hug. All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated - Love Levi <3

A stand for Aaron Hotchner: Unit chief of the BAU.

B is for the BAU a department of the FBI the researches cases on serial killers.

C is for Criminology: The scientific study of crimes and criminals.

D is for Derek Morgan: Former Chigaco cop and friend to Penelope Garcia and Spencer Reid.

E is for Evidence: The available body of facts indicating whether a belief is true or valid.

F is for Fingerprint: An impression made on a surface by a person's fingertip.

G if for Penelope Garcia: Spunky Technical Analyst of the BAU.

H is for Homicide: The killing of one person by another.

I is for Interrogation: The action of interrogation or the process of being interrogated.

J is for Jennifer Jareau: The Media Liason for the BAU.

K is for Kill shot: To shoot a gun with the purpose of killing someone.

L is for LDSK: The FBI's acronym for Long Distance Serial Killer.

M stands for Murder: The unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another.

N stands for New Agent Training: The Basic Field Training Course is designed to train new special agents and intelligence analysts together to prepare them for the field.

O stands for Organized: Arranged in a systematic way.

P Stands for Prior Record: An individual's previous criminal record.

Q stands for Question: A sentence worded or expressed so as to elicit information.

R stands for Revenge: The act of inflicting hurt or harm on someone for an unjury or wrong suffered at their hands.

S stands for Spencer Reid: Eidetic genius and youngest member of the BAU.

T stands for Trophy: A souvenir or memento of a crime.

U stands for Unsub: The FBI's slang for Unknown Subject.

V stands for Victimology: The study of the victims of crime and the psychological effects on them of their experience.

W stands for Witness: A person who sees an event, typically a crime or accident, take place.

X stands for eXamination: A detailed inspection or investiation.

Y stands for Yellow Journalism: A style of newspaper reporting that emphasizes sensationalism over facts.

Z stands for ZZZ's on the jet home

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

Tag list: (🩷) @tgskitten @geminitapestry @silk-spun @alicewonderao3 @ssahotchnerr @cumulo-stratus @criminalskies

Want to be added to my tag list? Please check out this post (linked) 

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A @hotchs-big-hands B @bau-bitch02 C @elysianmuses D @pennyspearl E @sewertrashmax F @dienette-666 G @pinkiebieberpie H @baekkku I @magicbecameouragenda J @tokyocyborg K @animefan-2013 L @its-where-the-wild-things-are M @roting N @moodboardmix O @study-sphere P @finalchokehold Q @aurorasoleil R @bebs-art-gallery S @tokyocyborg T @wheresmyfuckintea U @lieutenant-bixbyV @thesorceresstemple W @shegetsburned X @cloverdaisies Y @dumblr Z @notoneofyouhere

[goldenphoenix4]

fall out boy playing on criminal minds is my new favorite scene

tw: club/rave visuals, flashing lights, loud music, blurry camera footage (momentarily), brief depiction of someone bleeding out of their eyes

[cumulo-stratus]

Moodboard

College professor Spencer AU <3

[simp4eshal]

The boy is mine (Spencer x Reader)

Based on “The Boy is mine” by Ariana Grande

“The boy is mine,

I can’t wait to try him”

Your dad was president. Yes, he was.

And as the first daughter, you had to have security. That was obligatory.

But after an attempt is made on your life, your dad gets more cautious, and during the time of the investigation an FBI agent is charged with your safety.

Spencer reid x reader

I/ The one where you meet, and he’s so fine you spill coffee on yourself

II/ The one where you’re clumsy, and somehow end up on top of him

III/ The one where he can not act as if he’s not attracted to you anymore

IV/ The one where you get caught

V/ The one where your dad accepts him

[whimsicalangst]

*.:｡ if I was a character in criminal minds ｡: . *

☆ I literally have a whole traumatic backstory for my fake character too lol- she worked for the CAC unit before being recruited to the BAU in like season 5 s she’s a later character ofc☆

[l4ndojpg]

Whumptober 2023, Day 11: "All the lights going dark and my hope's destroyed."

fandom: criminal minds | characters: spencer reid | ship: none | trigger warnings: none | content: spencer slowly loses hope in prison | word count: 365.

In solitary confinement, Spencer feels the final, tiny shred of hope he had left lingering somewhere deep inside finally slip away. He’s stabbed himself and made it look like Shaw’s fault, so he should technically be able to rest easy for a couple of days knowing nobody can hurt him in here. Nobody except himself. 

But God, it’s been so long. And he’s so tired. And he’s sure he won’t last minutes outside of the walls of solitary confinement with all of the people who want him dead. So despite the fact that he’s safe, for now, he feels frozen, and stuck. 

At first, a couple of months ago when he’d been thrown behind bars like some sort of animal, hope had come easily. He recalled all the times his teammates family had gotten to him in time when he was in danger with his eyes squeezed shut and nails digging into his palms. He believed in them. He felt them with him. He thought, “I’m going to be okay.” 

The hope had started to abandon him. Slowly, at first. But everytime something new and equally as horrible happened, Spencer watched the tiny glimmers of hope that speckled his vision start to fade. He saw them start to fade in his family’s faces, too. When Rossi comes to visit he watches Spencer with a guarded expression, but Spencer’s known him too long to not be able to read the fear in his eyes. At first, Penelope had cried when she’d come to see him. Her tears have long dried up now. JJ can’t hold eye contact with him for more than seven seconds. He can see she’s terrified she’ll look at him and no longer see her baby brother, but instead the broken shell of the man he can feel himself becoming. 

In the past, even when Spencer had given up hope - trapped in Hankel’s cabin in rural Georgia, for example, beaten, bloodied and broken - his family had not. They had always come for him. 

But if their hope is fading, Spencer’s is more than fading. It’s diminished. Gone. Blown out. Destroyed. 

He is going to die in here, of that he is sure. 

[bezaliel]

breaking on thru to the other side

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[supercriminalbean]

Fight Club. Part three.

Aaron Hotchner x Male!reader.

Summary: The team tries thier hardest to find you, while Aaron thinks back to the way things use to be between you and him.

Warning: Dark fic. Blood, fighting, death, abuse, kidnapping, swearing, drugs, unsub violence, angst, murder, criminal minds unsub violenceness. This whole fic series is just dark and strange the ask it self is amazing and may help you know if this is something you can handle. (Any other warnings let me know xx)

Words: 4.6k

A/n: This went in a different direction as I thought this chapter would. Somehow this is becoming longer than I first thought it would. Another part will be released next week thank you all for your love xx

Part one. Part two. Part four.

Tagging thoes that seem interesed or asked: @xweirdo101x @alecmores @yn-addams @winter-world @xdark-acadamiax @rexspersonalhell @hunterispunk @sammy-4103 @222244445555 @spiritzofthedead @sweetnothingsvulnerability

The day goes by fast for the Bau, the day doesn’t have enough hours before the sun is setting again. They checked out a place today hoping you would be there but instead they found nothing, not even a sign that anyone used to be there. Garcia also isn’t getting anywhere tracking their Ip address, and they haven’t gone live since this morning. Currently the team is sitting around the table eating or more like picking at their dinner as they throw out more ideas. 

“We got his face on camera, Garcia has it circulating through all facial recognitional searches” Morgan adds, sighs as he stabs his noodles. 

“She won’t find anything, he’s been doing this for years there will be no recognition of him for the past twenty years” Rossi huffs quietly staring at the photo of the unsub on the board. 

“Maybe not, but she can put him through her system and make him appear younger then maybe she will get a hit” JJ suggests staring at the wall, her body feeling numb.

“Good idea, when she lands get her straight onto that” Hotch instructs looking over at Morgan.

“Will do” Morgan nods at him.

“When does she land?” Emily asks, glancing over at Morgan who automatically checks his watch.

“In twenty minutes, I should get going. I promise her I’ll be waiting by the gate when she lands” He smiles weakly standing up. No one argues, everyone knows those two come in a package. 

“Hey can I come for a ride, I could use the fresh air” JJ looks up at him, feeling exhausted.

“Sure blondie lets go” Morgan smiles a little as they walk out.

~~~

The night goes by with Reid, Rossi and Hotch narrowing down their comfort zone, while Garica and Morgan go through making the unsub appear younger and running him through everything. JJ and Emily, run through their notes of the interview of some of the victims families they talked to today, coming to some conclusions that they wish they never had to. Once it gets too late and the room is filled with nothing but yawns, Hotch finally sends them home, his heart racing at the thought you have been gone for 36 hours. Everyone leaves silently hating the idea of going back to the hotel while you're missing. Once Aaron is alone in his hotel room he sits at the small desk in the corner of the room, pulling out his notebook and a file as he gets back to work, doing his best to distract his mind from the hopelessness look in your eye. You don’t think they are coming for you, no, you don’t think he is coming for you. He is, and he won’t rest until he has you back where you belong. His mind runs back to the night, the night he regrets letting you go. The night he confessed to you, that he enjoyed having you in his life more than a boss should. That he doesn’t normally allow an agent to get this close to him or his kid, and he definitely doesn’t allow his agents to cuddle up to him on his couch watching movies, or kiss him that one night. He also doesn’t allow an agent to push him on cases like you do, he doesn’t allow an agent to bring a case to him like this and get away with using his FBI statutes to get information he’s not entitled to. He doesn’t allow it, so how the hell did he allow himself to let you worm yourself into his heart, and why the hell did he let you leave that night. Aaron doesn’t realise there are tears sliding down his face, hitting his notes until there's a sharp knock on the door. Quickly he pulls himself together, wiping his face as he takes a deep breath steadying his heartbeat as he looks through the peephole. Of course it's Dave he groans to himself, wondering if he could just go to bed and pretend he’s asleep to make him go away.

“Open up Aaron I know you're there” Dave smirks, staring at the door with a knowing look. Ever so slowly Aaron opens the door, his face hard, showing no emotion.

“What's up Dave?” Aaron sighs lightly, acting tired blocking the doorway.

“Don’t what's up me” Dave rolls his eyes as he pushes past him, walking straight in.

“Oh sure come on in” Aaron says sarcastically as he closes the door, he somehow allows his guard down around Dave. Dave moves to the middle of the room then turns around, staring at Aaron, his body stiffens under Dave gaze, crosses his arms in defence. 

“What do you want Dave?” 

“You want to tell me what's going on with you?” Dave stares at him, his eyes staring a hole into his soul. 

“What do you mean, my agent is missing? I'm sorry if I’m a little on edge” Aaron snaps at him, the tears threatening to come back.

“Today you keep referring to him as your agent, you keep refusing to say his name” Dave sighs, noticing the tension threatening to break on Aaron's face.

“Dave” His name is barely above a whisper, it's a warning. “Get out”

“Not until you open up and tell me what's happened between you two” Dave pushes, taking a step forward as he spots a tear escaping down Aaron cheek as he looks away.

“Aaron its me, talk to me”

“I can’t lose him Dave, not after Haley” His voice breaks as he speaks, sitting down on the bed.

~~~

“I invited him to a soccer game of Jack one day” Aaron breaks the silence, his eyes focused on the wall opposite him. Dave is sitting at the desk, watching him quietly, he wishes he could hear this under better circumstances.

“I didn’t think he would come, you know how closed off he is. He had a rough case and I wanted to make sure he was okay during the weekend” Hotch takes a deep breath as he thinks back. 

You didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, but you promised Hotch you would go to his son's soccer game with him. Apparently because you have been on the team for over a year and a half now and you still haven’t met his son yet which is a call for concern, apparently. Slowly you dragged yourself out of bed and got ready for the day, driving to the soccer field and stopping for some coffee and um a hot chocolate, because kids like hot chocolate right? You double asked yourself as you drove to the field, earlier than Hotch had told you the game was but he said he would be there early for warm up seeing as he is the couch. You pull up into the car parks, noticing a spare park beside a familiar car so you quickly park before getting out, and making your way through the field finding your boss setting down a bag and some bottles and a kid who seems to be a mini version of him holding a ball laughing beside him. 

“Morning” You call out to them, your eyes focused on Hotch as he turns around with a smile growing on his face.

“You're earlier” He points out, walking over to you.

“I know” You smirk softly. “But I brought coffee, and a hot chocolate for the little child” 

“Thanks,” Hotch smiles. “Jack, this is (Y/n) my coworker”

“Hi,” Jack mumbles, looking down.

“Hey kid” You smile awkwardly, before picking up the coffee and offering it to Hotch.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to” He smiles warmly as he reaches for it, his smile fades as you jump slightly at his movements. 

“Oh it's no problem” You focus your smile to stay put. “Sorry” You quickly apologise, gulping quickly as you turn to Jack as you hand him his drink. “This is for you Jack”

“Woah, it's huge!” Jack exclaims, taking it. “Dad only ever gets me the small one, thank you”

You can’t help but laugh softly. “It's because I’m better than him” You tease.

“That's because I have to deal with the sugar rush later,” Aaron groans, smirking at you.

“They get sugar rush?” You look at him confused, your eyebrows pinching together looking cute according to Aaron.

“They do, you don’t know anything about kids do you” Aaron teases you, laughing as he sees his son struggle to hold the cup without dropping it.

“Oh nothing, I don’t like kids” You shrug, as you watch Jack not realising Aaron is currently staring at you with his eyes full of hope.

After the soccer game, you three went out for ice cream, the day was full of laughter and joy as you got to know the Hotchner boys. The next few weekends the same thing happened, you went to the game, then an afternoon activity with the two sweetest boys. About six months pass by, when an incident with Jack processes to push you and Aaron closer. 

You are currently watching Jack's first game of summer soccer, cheering for him from the side lines, a huge smile takes over your face as you watch him. The pride grows in your chest as he scores another goal, glancing over at Aaron by the side lines, the proud dad looks on his face as he claps loudly with the clipboard. The game is close, the team only needs one more goal and the game is theirs. The game goes by quickly with both teams playing well for kids, your heart is pounding when you see Jack got the ball lined up for the goal and the referee is about to call the game, but then he kicks and he gets in just as the game comes to an end. The team all screams and cheers with excitement, running towards their parents to celebrate, except Jack. He’s sprinting towards screaming that he’s won, before he’s jumping at you, wrapping his arms around you. You freeze, your smile falters as he touches you, but then you look down at the small boy in your arms and you smile before wrapping your arms around him, the tension in your chest breaking apart.

“You did amazing kiddo” You smile widely as you hear heavy footsteps approaches, pulling away from Jack as you glance up to meet his father's gaze, a worried look on his face quickly fades to a relieved, happy look.

“They played great” You smile at him, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes as Jack pulls away, causing Aaron to worry internally.

“They did, you did so great buddy” Aaron looks down at his son, with loving eyes as he ruffles his hair. 

Later that night, you three have had a movie night and now Jack is asleep in his bed as you and Aaron watch a less kid friendly movie, while chatting away. 

“I’m sorry if Jack made you uncomfortable earlier” Aaron glances at you as the conversation from before dies away, your eyes stay glued on the tv.

“Um when?” You gulp, you know what he’s talking about, but you don’t want to talk about it.

“When he hugged you (Y/n), I know you don’t like physical touch”

“It's fine, It happened and it didn’t suck” You shrug, ignoring the way your body tenses up.

“(Y/n), If you want me to tell him not to do it again I will” Aaron speaks softly, watching the upset and agitated look flash over your face as you glance at him.

“Don’t do that, I don’t mind hugging him. What, am I not allowed to hug people just because I’ve never hugged someone before!” You snap at him, anger and sadness welling up inside you.

“No, I didn’t mean that” Aaron smiles sadly at you, before reaching for your hand that lays on the couch in between you both. Your freeze, your eyes focusing on his hand closely but you don’t pull away. He slowly intertwined his fingers with yours, taking a deep you slide your thumb over his, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“You said you haven’t had a hug before?” Aaron keeps his voice light as he speaks, holding your hand softly as he looks up at you. 

“Not since I was young” You talk quietly, looking into his eyes as you speak. “I know I’m not normal Aaron but I’m trying I promise” Your voice almost sounds like you're begging when you speak, your voice wobbles as your eyes water just a little.

“I know you are, I see you and you are doing a great job” Aaron reassures you. Holding back the automatic urge to pull you into a hug and tell you that nothing can hurt you anymore and that you're doing a great job and just how far you have come. But he can’t do that, because you're not ready for the praise nor ready for the way he wants to hold you and even if you are he would break the thin line of professionalism he is trying to keep between you two.

“I am?” Your face lights up a little, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“You are, do you remember when you first joined the team?” Aaron smiles as he watches you, the way your eyes slide to the wall as you think back.

“Yeah.. You kept getting mad at me”

“Mad isn’t the right word, I was concerned for you. You barely slept and never ate, you drank more caffeine than Reid and that’s saying something” Aaron jokes lightly, causing you to chuckle softly.

“Okay, but I still do that most weeks”

“Still less than you used to do, and that's an improvement” Aaron squeezes your hand softly, which makes your smile grow just a little. “You also used violence a lot more when arresting an unsub, you don’t do that so much anymore you have more control over your temper” His words sink in slowly, your heart melting as your eyes meet his, allowing his sweet words to break your walls down. 

“That one is hard, anger and violence is all I knew growing up” Your words are barely above a whisper as you admit that, squeezing his hand a little. 

“That's okay, because you are still young and you are still learning” He smiles as his thumb brushes over your hand. “Also back then you would never let me hold your hand, or even hug my son”

“Maybe it's more because you two mean something to me rather than something else” You gulp as you admit your feelings.

“Well you are welcome here whenever you like” Aaron smiles as he looks at you, his eyes filled with love as he stares into your own. He feels himself falling for you, he knows it's wrong but right now Aaron doesn’t care, because he’s never seen anyone with such beautiful eyes before.

“Can.. Can you hug me.. I want to try it” You push the words out of your throat as the nerves start to get involved. Aaron smiles softly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you down and into his chest. You take a deep breath, half laying down in his arms, closing your eyes as you focus on his heart beat, and the warmth his arm produces. 

~~~

“You two got really close?” Dave pulls Aaron back to the present.

“Six months Dave… That night brought us even closer but six months it stayed like that” Aaron voice breaks as a tear slides down his hands shaking. “And then he pulled away, something was going on but he refused to tell me what and after one night.. That night he.. He kissed me” Aaron takes a sharp breath as that memory invades his mind the way you cupped his face as you ask him sweetly before your lips are capturing his. 

“What happened?” Dave watched him concernedly, his eyes focused on Aaron's body language. 

“He fell asleep in my arms, and the next morning he was gone, I tried to talk to him at work and he told me that he had to refocus on work, he didn’t have time for friends, I let him go Dave, I knew something was wrong but I also knew that he’s not right, he doesn't understand relationships or love, now I know why” Aaron looks up at Dave, his heart breaking. 

“This isn’t your fault Aaron” Dave reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I know Dave but–” Before Aaron could finish there's an urgent knock on the door pulling the two mens attention away. As soon as the door opens Garcia and Morgan are walking in urgent looks plastered over their faces, both carrying their laptops.

“They are going live” Morgan breaks the silence, before glancing at Hotch who is quickly drying his face., jumping to his feet quickly. All four of them gather around the laptop where the loading screens disappear and your bloody face fills the screen making Aarons insides screaming.

~~~

You are left alone for hours after being tortured, they only stopped after you screamed out the name they branded you with. You pass out at one point, your body and mind begging for a break, and against the hardest you try you black out. A sharp pain flies across your face, bringing you back to the hell you're in. Blinking rapidly while your eyes adjust to the bright light shining down at you, your eyes finally adjust landing on the man in front of you.

“Ready for round two Jupiter?” He chuckles at you, his grin is one that will forever haunt your nightmares.

“Why don’t you untie me and I’ll show you just how ready I am” You glare up at him, anger and tiredness sitting in your chest. He grabs your chin pinching it hard between his thumb and pointer finger, his eyes icy cold as he stares into you.

“Oh that's the plan, we’re going old school” A sickening feeling fills your stomach as his grin grows.

“No, not again” You spit at him, fear filling you knowing that's their plan to break you.

“Bring him out” He yells out, letting your chin go as the door on the other side of the room swings open, your stomach drops. She walks in, followed by a younger boy who seems to be in his mid teens.

“He’s too young no” You shake your head vigorously, your heart pounding. He looks so strong, but you know you're stronger even in your current state you could beat him. 

“You killed people when you were younger than him” He laughs. “Hell you are our youngest killer after all”

“Shut up” You snarl at him, your eyes flickering towards the video camera.

“Just enjoy the fight, let yourself remember the joy you used to feel” He smirks as he grabs the camera and lights moving them out of the pool before he climbs out.

“Hey, aren’t you going to untie me then” You glare up at him, your eyes glace at the kid as he approaches, his eyes are dead but focused on you. To him you aren’t a person just a chore for the day, he just needs to get you over with so he can have dinner and go to sleep. 

“He will do it” He smirks at you, before the boy jumps into the pool.

“Julian, remember the rules” Ma’am calls to the boy, her eyes flickering to yours. Her’s are filled with excitement, she can’t wait to see the next show. 

“Yes Ma’am” He nods, before approaching you, untying you quickly before backing up to his corner. 

“When 

I say start you two better give everyone a good show my lovies” She sings out to you two before giggling sickly, holding the camera zooming in on you as you stand up your eyes trained on the boy. You won’t attack him, just keep him busy until he gives up.

“Three, two one, go” Her smirk darkness as the boy lunges at you.

~~~

He’s a lot stronger than you thought he was, after a few rounds of dodging and making him chase you around the pool, he’s managed to land a few strong punches on you. Eventually he gets you down, his fist colliding with your face too much for you to think straight and soon instinct takes over. Your legs wrap around his waist, flipping you both over as you manage to get a few hits on him, he stops moving as you put pressure over his throat. A soft laugh escapes you as he starts relaxing under you, his eyes soften as fear invades them as he struggles underneath you. 

“Please don’t” He coughs his words out, but they aren’t enough to stop you.

“That’s it Jupiter finish him” She cheers for you, your stomach drops as her voice sets in. Shaking your head as you eyes meet him, you quickly let his throat go as he stops struggling under you. 

“That's not my name” You growl glancing at her, before looking at the scared boy under you. “Take a deep breath kid, you're okay now” You speak softly, guilt eating at you. He nods quickly, taking deep breaths as you climb off him, holding out a hand for him, pulling him up to his feet. Sliding his arm over your shoulder as he uses you for support, you glare up at the two viewers.

“You can try as much as you like, you're not breaking me” You breathe heavily as you try to catch your breath. You are pretty sure your ribs are broken along with your nose, more blood drips down your face.

“Bullshit” He snarls out as he jumps into the pool with you, storming over.

“Can’t break me” You smirk at him just a little.

“You won that fight, and winners here only win one way” He glares murderously at you, before you have time to process anything he lunges at Julian. A sharp howl leaves the young boy's mouth, your eyes widen as he pulls away, blood dripping from the knife in his hand. 

“No!” You scream, your hand flies toward Julian side, where the stab wound is, pressing against the bleeding as you lay him down. 

“You won, deal with it” He laughs bitterly as they walk out, leaving you two alone. 

You hold the tears back as you press against the wound, looking into the young boy's frightened eyes.

“It's.. its going to be okay kid” You try to pull yourself together, as the boy stares up at you.

“It's okay” He coughs out weakly. “They can’t hurt me now” 

“That's right they can’t” You whimper, a tear sliding down as the light in his eyes start to fade. 

“My sister here, she's beside you” His words are barely above a whisper now, goosebumps make your arms tingle. 

“Go with her kiddo, be safe now” Tears slide down as his chest stops breathing and you can’t move. Eventually you pull your hands off him, and collapse onto your back sobs racking through your body. That should be you, no one is even looking for you, this is your fault.

~~~

The team sits in silence as the live ends, Garcia keyboard is the only sound that fills the room. Tears are sliding down almost everyone's face, guilt, fear and anger fills everyone. The rest of the team had come and joined the other four earlier on, everyone had to watch your fight in silence, their hearts breaking at your screaming. The way you fell to your knees trying to keep the boy alive, then it ended, and no one knows how to proceed. 

“Penelope, do you have a location?” It's Dave that breaks the silence, his eyes landing on her. Her body is shaking as she cries but she carries on typing on her laptop.

“No, but.. But I’ve got it narrowed down, and I tapped into their viewers, maybe we can’t get something off that” Her voice is shaky as she tries to push through it. 

“Baby girl” Derek gently takes her hand, worried about her shaking.

“I.. I’m sorry” She sobs, falling into Derek's chest who holds her closely, his own tears sliding down.

“Everyone take five minutes, then back to the precinct” Aaron orders, his eyes still focused on the screen, his heart falling apart. In a quick minute JJ and Reid are running out of the room, needing time to themselves. 

Everyone knew the timeline had been cut shorter, if they make you fight again, Aaron knows you will give yourself up, he can’t let you do that.