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sincerelybubbles · 4 months

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it's a date || spencer reid x reader

part 2

warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read

word count: 6.1k

You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention.

You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you.

You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.

“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight.

“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind.

You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”

Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain.

“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”

He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door.

“Just Gideon is fine.”

Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous.

“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.

“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape.

“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”

“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.

“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee.

You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”

You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”

“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”

“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”

You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.

“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”

When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply.

It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.

“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over.

“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”

You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide.

You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge.

Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.

“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove.

“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh.

“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.

“I’ll give her a call.”

He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor.

He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book.

“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”

He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.

You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.

“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”

“I would actually love –”

“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”

“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”

He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta.

Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart.

You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news.

Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?

You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.

||||

“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting.

You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident.

All FBI, if you had to wager a bet.

“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”

“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well.

“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”

“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face.

“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief.

“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”

“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest.

“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”

“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”

“Sorry?” You ask, startled.

“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”

“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression.

“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere.

“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile.

“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.

“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”

You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder.

“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile.

“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are.

“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted.

“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him.

“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”

||||

Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space.

The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones.

“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically.

“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head.

“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”

You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”

“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name.

The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone.

Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait.

You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in.

“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks.

“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack.

“Making sandwiches!”

“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”

“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”

“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”

“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”

Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”

You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something.

“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder.

“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”

“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow.

“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”

You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”

||||

“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up.

“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains.

“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”

“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”

“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little.

You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one.

“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted.

“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread.

You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him.

The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it.

“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”

“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes.

“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him.

“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”

“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about.

You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere.

You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable.

“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”

“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away.

“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms.

“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”

“We have to.”

“It certainly works out better when you do.”

“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly.

“And you tried to transfer?”

“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.

“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”

“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”

“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”

“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”

||||

“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something.

“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers.

“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging.

“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering.

He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct.

“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”

You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”

“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back.

“Well, thank you?”

“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”

“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”

“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”

“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”

“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”

You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Elle says kindly.

Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored.

You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory.

As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught.

You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street.

Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food.

The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street.

You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs.

“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks.

“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer.

“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”

“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”

“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house.

“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head.

“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”

Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window.

“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology.

You wish he hadn’t.

Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again.

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle.

||||

You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts.

You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway.

Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side.

“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”

You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun.

“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks.

“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”

“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low.

“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”

For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”

The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms.

The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid.

“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy.

The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head.

“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket.

“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team.

After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway.

“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you.

“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”

“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away.

“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it.

“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”

“How so?”

You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile.

“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”

“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”

“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”

“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”

Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”

“I’m asking.”

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh

lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!

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wardengrill · 3 months

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Team in Family Affair

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emberfrostlovesloki · 11 months

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Halloween Honey [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@ancientsstudies) Center (@zendobx) Right (@iambrochella)

Prompt: Emily introduces the reader to the team at Derek’s townhome on Halloween night. After they get back to Emily’s apartment, they take their relationship to the next level.

Pairing: Emily x female presenting reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: Fluff/smut

Word Count: 6.5K

A/N: Content Warnings below the cut. This is an 18+ story. Minor’s DNI. Please respect that boundary. Good evening and Happy Halloween!!! I hope you are all having a fun and safe Halloween. This is the third installation of my informal Emily Prentiss x reader series. Parts I and II can be found (here) and (here). I thought that it was about time that the reader got to know Emily’s friends, aka the BAU team. You could also read this as a stand-alone. The only background I think you need is that the reader is an intern for a senator. The title is based on Derek’s infamous line in the show. I hope you all like this and have a good night. If you do enjoy it, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love - Levi.

P.S. The Latin is just a mistranslation of the rite of exorcism. It's Google translated, so it might be wrong.

Content Warnings: Sex (Emily and reader receiving [oral - Emily and fingering - reader]), the reader has some anxiety, a horror movie is watched/discussed (The Conjuring), brief mention of dead bodies, light drinking. If I missed any, please let me know.

List with all stories

_y/n_ = you name

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/s_ = your favorite senator

_f/j/t_ = your favorite jewel tone

_y/f/s/t_ = your favorite shoe types - aka, heels, sneakers, creepers, loafers, etc.

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

Emily and _y/n_ were cruising down the road. A Florence + The Machine Spotify playlist was on shuffle playing from the stereo. It was quiet for a moment, and Emily briefly looked over and took her eyes off the road to look at her partner. _y/n_ was twisting one of the rings on her left hand, looking at her fingers with an apparent, deep interest. Prentiss focused on the road again and asked, “_y/n_, what’s on your mind? You seem a bit preoccupied.” _y/n_ flushed slightly. She looked at Emily, who was softly illuminated by the lights on the dashboard. When Emily told her more about the actual science behind profiling. She particularly stated, “It’s nothing like NCIS or CSI. Though the team's cases might look interesting and sound exciting, the real thing’s no fun at all. It’s just stress and dead bodies..” _y/n_ had nodded along. She understood where Emily was coming from. _y/n_ often got the same response when she told anyone that she worked in politics. Someone was always bound to say, “Oh, so like Parks and Rec?” with an uninformed laugh. She normally didn’t correct them. It wasn’t worth the work. Thinking back to the conversation with Emily, she had asked, “So, are microexpressions real? Can you tell if someone’s lying or not?” Prentiss had thought for a moment, and replied, “Well microexpressions are real, and there is a science behind it, but I think they're exaggerated in the media. Those expressions are just there on the face for a millisecond. Unless it’s on film, people can’t really see them. There’s only one person I know who might be able to use microexpressions as a defense.” This had piqued _y/n_’s interest, and she asked, “Who is it?” Em laughed and said, “Aaron, our Unit Chief.” _y/n_ nodded along. She was slowly getting to know more about the team. Their names, of course, and smaller things like the normal roles they took in cases, and their personalities. Emily had promised that _y/n_ would like JJ and Garcia, and she was looking forward to meeting them. Emily had promised _y/n_ early on in their relationship that she wouldn’t profile her. But it didn’t take a profiler for Em to tell that _y/n_ was anxious about something. Finally, _y.n_ replied, “What if they don’t like me? The team? They sound so smart and talented. And if they’re anything like you, well then that just confirms it. I’m just boring old me, ya know.”

Emily briefly turned to look at _y/n_ and took her right hand off the steering wheel. Em placed it on _y/n_’s hands, stilling the nervous tick of twisting the rings on her fingers. When _y/n_’s hands were calm, Emily moved her hand to _y/n_’s shoulder. She quickly checked the road before returning her gaze to her partner. The slightly worried look painted _y/n_’s face in the way her brows were pressed together and the tension in her lips. Prentiss let out the smallest of breaths and replied, “_y/n_, you’re wonderful and beautiful, and kind, and you’ve been so good to me. You’ve been patient and loving, and you understand when I’m stressed and need space.” When Em was sure _y/n_ was listening, she focused on the road but continued speaking. She said, “The team is going to love you. Penelope and JJ have been dying to meet you, and I know that you and Spencer could probably write a dozen books together. Yes, the people on the team are smart, but you are wickedly intelligent about the law and handling people. Getting them to listen to you. This isn’t a contest; I want you to get to know the other people in my life.” At Emily’s encouraging words, _y/n_ relaxed. She felt better after being hyped up by Em. “Thanks, Em. I needed that.” Emily smiled and said, “Anytime, love.” Emily could feel _y/n_’s gaze on her. She could feel _y/n_ beaming at her, and she felt slow warmth pool in her stomach and drip downwards. _y/n_ was a very affectionate person. She loved physical touch. Emily was less so, but they had started a few routines that met both their needs for touch. They would hold hands under the table at dinner, and as they walked down the street from various cafes, art museums, and curio shops, Emily would snake her arm around _y/n_’s back, holding her waist securely.

It was only a few minutes later that they arrived outside Derek’s townhouse. Emily recognized Garcia’s and Spencer’s cars parked right out front. Emily parallel parked, and once her keys were out of the ignition, she turned to look at _y/n_. _y/n_’s eyes were shining in the darkness, and Prentiss couldn’t stop the grin that she gave_y/n_ as she said, “Come here you.” They both leaned forward over the center console and kissed. As their lips met, their breath on the other’s face made them flush. Their lips were a bit tacky as Emily was wearing matte red lipstick and _y/n_ was wearing a glossy black lip. The kiss turned a bit more passionate, and Emily threaded her hands through _y/n_’s hair. _y/n_ similarly put her hands around Emily’s neck. When they pulled apart for breath, they both could feel the sexual tension in the cab of the car. Emily cleared her throat and asked, “You ready to go in there?” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I am, but maybe you should look at your mouth first?” Emily looked at _y/n_ quizically before _y/n_ turned on the lights in the car and pulled down the visor with the mirror. Emily flushed when she realized that some of _y/n_’s lipstick had transferred to her mouth. Emily spluttered slightly and fished around in her purse. She found some tissues and removed the transferred gloss. In doing so, she took off a good bit of her own makeup. Prentiss looked in her bag to reapply her lipstick. When she didn’t find the tube, she softly said, “Shit.” She had left it on her vanity. When Em looked up, _y/n_ was extending her black gloss. Emily looked apprehensive, and _y/n_ said, “I think it’s either this or you take off all the lipstick. You know you look great in black Em, I’m sure some black lipstick will look incredibly hot on you. Plus, we can kiss that way and none of your friends will know.” Prentiss flushed at the compliment and the idea of her kissing _y/n_. She took the offered makeup. Before she put it on, she said, “See I told you you were smart, _y/n_.” Em booped _y/n_’s nose with her finger before she turned to the mirror.

The couple reached Derek’s door, and Emily knocked twice. After a moment Morgan’s strong build opened the glass door, and he gave one of his best smiles to Emily and _y/n_. Morgan extended a hand to _y/n_ and said, “Hey, _y/n_. I’m Derek, Morgan.” _y/n_ smiled back and said, “_y/n_, _l/n_. I’m so happy to meet you.” Derek extended a hand and _y/n_ took it. The shake was firm, steady. Em had described Derek as the protector of the team. Rash sometimes in his desire for his friends to be safe. As _y/n_ stood in front of the man now, she could see how that might be true. Morgan moved back a step and said, “Please come on in. The gang’s all here. As they stepped into the nice space, Morgan gave Emily a side hug and one of those smiles that said, “I like her already.” As they moved through the hallway toward the living area, Morgan pointed out the kitchen and the guest bathroom to _y/n_, stating, “Please make yourself at home. Drinks are in the kitchen and if you need anything, just let me know.” _y/n_ nodded and thanked him for his hospitality. Of course, Prentiss knew where all of these things were, but Morgan was particularly about meeting new people and showing off his space. When Derek had first invited her over for a friendly dinner, she felt a bit awkward, but once she had gone, Prentiss realized that her friend was a natural host. Gifted at making people comfortable in his home. Now, whenever Morgan was hosting, she attempted to make it. Emily was happy that this was where _y/n_ was going to meet the team.

As the trio moved into the living room, everyone that was seated stood. Penelope was up first, bridging the gap between herself, Emily, and _y/n_. Garcia extended a hand and said, “Oh my gosh, hi. I’m so happy to meet you!” _y/n_ smiled and said, “It’s lovely to meet you too… Penelope?” Garcia did a little happy dance and said, “Yes! How did you know?” As soon as the woman, wearing bright neon colors, with blond hair in pigtails had approached _y/n_, she knew who she was. Instead of saying any of that, she said, “Oh, you know, just my telepathic abilities.” This response made Garcia so happy that instead of offering a handshake, she said, “I’m sorry, but can I hug you? I think you may be my favorite person to ever exist.” _y/n_ lending into Garcia’s open arms and relaxed at her touch. In Garcia’s arms, _y/n_ felt warm and safe, and she made the observation that Penelope smelled distinctly of bubble gum. When they parted, Garcia ushed _y/n_ toward the others. JJ and _y/n_ shook hands and had a brief introduction. JJ looked over _y/n_ quickly. The Media Liaison realized exactly what Emily was talking about with _y/n_ being not only beautiful but also fully present. When JJ looked at _y/n_ there was no distraction, no wavering energy; she was fully focused on what JJ was saying. As someone who interacted with loads of people on a daily basis, having someone so centered felt like a breath of fresh air. JJ said, “It’s nice to finally meet you _y/n_. I can’t believe it’s been almost three months since Em met you in that dressing room. _y/n_ flushed at being reminded of how Emily and her met. It was still one of her favorite memories. Sometimes she forgot that JJ had been on the other end of Emily’s phone call when she had complimented Emily. The last introduction with Spencer was calm. Reid extended his hand and introduced himself. _y/n_ thought that maybe he was a bit shy. _y/n_ hoped to see more of his personality, and his smarts eventually. With how much Prentiss lauded his brain, she was excited to see it in action for herself. Everyone found a spot in the living room. Derek and Garcia were on the couch with Emily and _y/n_. JJ found herself on the loveseat adjacent to the couch and glass coffee table. JJ patted the spot next to her, but Reid opted to sit on the rug by her feet instead. Derek said, “Reid, what are you doing?” Spencer looked over to Derek and said, “I don’t want to be on eye level with the screen. If I sit on the couch, I’ll be looking directly at the movie, and you know I don’t like the possession or doll stuff.” Derek chuckled and said, “Well, suit yourself pretty boy. Also, how can you do this job and be afraid of a ghost or some dolls?” Spencer reddened and made some small protestation while the team ribbed him gently. It was all in good fun. The team had voted on three possible films: The Exorcist, The Conjuring, and Brahm’s The Boy. As everyone debated which film to watch, Emily went and grabbed her and _y/n_ some drinks.

The group had decided on The Conjuring, and once everyone was settled in with a drink, they started the film. The first time Annabell came on screen, everyone laughed. The film progressed, and the Perron family got more scared in their new home _y/n_ relaxed a little and settled closer to Emily. Just as Emily had assured her, the other members of her team were kind and normal people. They laughed at the family's silly responses to the strange phenomena happening on screen. Once they were playing the clapping game in the movie, Spencer said, “The mom shouldn’t be playing this upstairs. With the wrong footing, she could easily fall off the second floor to the first. Did you know that around 1,000 people die from falls on staircases each year, and over 3,456 of all ages and abilities are injured on them annually.” After Reid finished this commentary, Penelope said, “They should hire you as a consultant for whenever the studio makes another cheap sequel.” This got a chuckle from everyone. Once the spirit of Bathsheeba showed up for the first time on top of the girl’s wardrobe, everyone jumped and then Derek said, “Baby girl, I think you need some lotion and to up your skincare routine.” This got a big laugh out of everyone. During the third shot where the camera rotated 180 degrees, _y/n_ added to the conversation, asking, “I know about the Dutch angle and eye level shots and all that jazz, but is there a term for this? It’s starting to get boring as a visual device honestly.” There was a moment of silence as the question lingered, but Spencer quickly said, “Well, I’m not sure if it’s a technical film term, but maybe something like an inverse shot or a flipped angle or something? That might be apropos here.” As the scene got more tense, _y/n_ very quietly replied to Spencer, saying, “That sounds about right.” When everyone got ready for the climax, Emily gently squeezed _y/n_’s hand and gave her a soft kiss on the temple. She whispered, “See. I told you you and Reid would get along swimmingly.” _y/n_ hummed slightly, squeezing Emily’s hand back. The film wrapped up and everyone got up and stretched a bit. Penelope, _y/n_, and JJ took turns in the bathroom. When _y/n_ exited the facilities, she found Emily and Derek trying to comfort the tech whiz. Although Spencer had said he didn’t like films with possession as a theme, it seemed that Penelope was the most affected of all of them. Derek was trying to take the compassionate approach saying, “Sweetness, it’s all just made up. None of it’s really real. They exaggerated and added scary music so you’d feel scared.” _y/n_ stopped herself from commenting on the real Warren family and their troubled history as paranormal investigators. JJ chimed in, “At least the movie ended happily Pen. There was a real hope for that family. Love won. It can’t be that scary if love won.” This seemed to help Garcia a bit. _y/n_ moved into the kitchen and got another drink. As she walked to stand next to Emily, she gave Garcia a pat on the arm. Penelope looked at her and smiled, saying, “Thank you _y/n_.”

Thinking about the inaccuracies of the film, she said, “You know that exorcism scene always bothers me. I know secular shows aren’t concerned about the actual ritual of an exorcism, but still, you could at least get the Latin right.” This comment had the rest of the party looking at her. _y/n_ flushed, and said, “I might have considered a divinity degree before political science consumed my life.” Everyone chuckled and Reid said, “You’re right. Ed says “‘Verte malum de inimicis meis; in veritate tua disperde illos.Omnenus: Sponte sacrificabo tibi,’ where it should be...” Before Spence could answer, _y/n_ replied, “‘In veritate tua disperde illos. Omnes: Sponte sacrificabo tibi.’ It’s not like the church and other religions have been performing those types of rituals for centuries or anything.” As she said this, Reid gave her a genuine smile and nod of recognition. With the topic on the table, Reid started running with it and began to ramble about how the ritual of expelling alleged dark forces had changed over the years. _y/n_ leaned into Emily gently, as she listened with keen attention. Again Emily was right. Dr. Reid was brimming with knowledge. _y/n_ hadn’t expected her girlfriend to lie or exaggerate about her friends, but when she had heard all the descriptions of the members at first it felt a little too impossible to believe. Once Spencer had finished his ‘brief’ history of exorcisms, Derek turned to _y/n_ and Prentiss. He said, “Alright Emily, you still haven’t explained fully how you met _y/n_. And JJ and Garcia are still talking about that first date. Every time I bring it up you say that you’ll tell me soon -- and I think it’s time to pay up.” Emily chuckled and said alright. I’ll tell you.” Prentiss detailed her first meeting with _y/n_ and then described their first date. _y/n_ would chime in with certain funny or cute moments, and Morgan was eating up the story. After another hour or so, everyone decided to start heading out. _y/n_ said goodbye to everyone, giving hugs or handshakes. As she approached Garcia, Penelope said, “I’d love to go shopping with you sometime. Your style is so cool!” _y/n_ flushed and said, “I pinky promise. I’ll text you, and we can set something up.” Penelope nodded enthusiastically. Derek walked the couple to the door, he gave _y/n_ a side hug and said, “If you ever need anything, you just let me know, alright.” _y/n_ nodded. His sincerity was touching. She thought back again to what Em had said about him being protective, and she fully saw it now. _y/n_ replied, “Thank you, Derek. Thank you for having me over. It was a really great night.” Morgan beamed and said, “Well then, I can’t wait to have you over again.” Derek and Emily said their goodbyes and “See you Monday’s.”

In the car on the way back to Emily’s apartment _y/n_ said, “Em, they’re all so sweet. So kind. I’m so happy to have met them. And I’d like to meet Aaron and Rossi too if I can sometime.” Emily smiled and said, “I’m glad you like them, and you had a good time. And believe me, Dave asks about you constantly and Aaron has too. I’m sure you’ll meet them when there’s time.” The pair drive back toward Emily’s side of the city. As they moved down the road Emily considered how they had gotten closer over the few months they had known each other. Emily was protective of her past. She had to be with what she had gone through. Revealing too much could make _y/n_ an unintentional target. But _y/n_ had been so open, so gentle with her that she couldn’t help but open up to _y/n_’s warm care and affection. They had become more physical around each other too. They had slept in the same bed many times now. Their bodies pressed close. And on one of those evenings, Emily had moved her hand beneath _y/n_’s linen shirt and brushed her fingers over the buds of _y/n_’s breasts. While she had done this, _y/n_ had stroked over her clothed sex with two fingers. As much as Emily had wanted to take it farther that night, they had both been exhausted. Emily had just returned from a long case, and _y/n_ had had a long night in the office trying to proofread a 500-page long bill from _y/f/s_. The passion was there, but not the energy. Em had promised _y/n_ that she wanted this -- desperately, but that she wanted to give her her all for the first time. _y/n_ had agreed. They rode back toward her apartment, and Emily thought of that first brief intimacy. She began to pool with desire again. She wondered if this was going to be the night that they would reach that stage in their relationship. While Emily thought this, _y/n_ couldn’t tear her eyes off of her partner. _y/n_ tried not to sexualize Emily often. She was too dignified for her to be drooled over. But now and then, Emily would look at her a certain way, or say something so profound that _y/n_ wanted to kiss her all over. To kiss every part of her body. A specific region, flushed and pink came to mind, and _y/n_ had to stifle a needy sigh. _y/n_ had always found Emily attractive, and the night that they had been most close replayed in her mind often. The feeling of Em’s hands, tender yet firm, moving over and teasing her breasts left her breathless and wanting if she thought about it for too long. Now as _y/n_ looked at Em, was one of those times. _y/n_ begged anything out there in the cosmos that they could have that and more tonight.

As Emily and _y/n_ got into Prentiss’s apartment. There was an anticipatory, hungry feel to the air. Emily turned on some lamps in the living room. She had asked _y/n_ if she wanted to spend the night, as they drove back and _y/n_ had readily agreed. As Prentiss turned to ask _y/n_ what she wanted to do; if she wanted a drink of water, or anything in particular, she was almost shocked at what she saw. The look of pure desire on _y/n_’s face. _y/n_ closed the gap between them and noticed how Em cocked her head to the side almost confused by her want of her. When _y/n_ was flush with Emily, she pressed herself close to her girlfriend. _y/n_ stroked her hands through Emily’s dark hair. After a few seconds of this, _y/n_’s right hand rested on the crown of Emily’s skull and gently guided Emily’s mouth to hers. Emily easily, amicably acquiesced; allowing herself to be guided to _y/n_’s full lips. As their mouths met, Emily felt that pool of desire begins to flow downward again. It took all of her concentration to not moan at the close contact with _y/n_. Prentiss didn’t want to sound needy yet, but she felt that way. She longed for _y/n_’s touch in places yet unexplored. When _y/n_ ran her tongue over Emily’s lower lip, asking for control, she didn’t want to stop _y/n_ from having that access. As Em let _y/n_ into her mouth, there was a mutual understanding of comfort and dynamics. Neither one of them was acting as a dominant or male persona. They were both just seeking comfort and pleasure in the other. When both Emily and _y/n pulled back for air, there was a moment of silence, of stillness. After a beat, _y/n_ said, Em. I need you, all of you, tonight. If you’ll let me?” Prentiss nodded and breathily said, “Oh God, yes, _y/n_. I was afraid I was moving too fast, and to hear you say that makes me feel so desired. You wanna go the bedroom, Baby?” _y/n_ agreed in a high pitch. Em took _y/n_’s hand. They moved slowly to the mauve-colored room. As they walked, there was a longing that they both let linger. After tonight, they would be joined in a way that would change the dynamic of their relationship from here on out, and they wanted to give space to that fact.

In the bedroom, with the white door closed, _y/n_ turned to Emily. She was wearing a charcoal grey blouse that buttoned up the front. There was a bow that was tied at the collar. _y/n_ started by gently tugging the bow undone. She settled the strips of fabric that formed the extra edition of the collar behind Emily’s neck. She then moved to the buttons of the shirt. Slowly, with care and precision, _y/n_ began undoing the buttons of the silk shirt. As each inch of skin was revealed, _y/n_ reveled in its exposure. There was a reverence in her gaze that Emily had rarely seen. When Emily had been intimate before, there was always a hunger in the look of her lovers, male and female. A desire for pleasure. This was all fine and good, but the awe on _y/n_’s face was new. There was also a hunger, but not like she was a thing to be had, sucked dry and then left in the cold morning air uncovered. Thinking of this had Emily let you a sigh of desire. Emily’s head was slightly tipped back, her mouth half open, taking needy breaths. Through her half-lidded gaze, she saw _y/n_ smile at her noises. Emily wondered what _y/n_ moaning sounded like, and her sex pulsated at the idea. Her arousal intensified. When the last button was undone, _y/n_ pushed the silk off Emily’s shoulders and to the floor. The fabric fell to the floor with little sound. _y/n_’s gazed over her form. The lovely planes of Emily’s skin shone in the light of the lamps illuminating the room. _y/n_’s warm hands slowly started moving over the exposed flesh. Circling Emily’s stomach. She felt up the side of her waist. _y/n_’s hands then moved higher, ghosting over Em’s covered breasts. _y/n_ noticed that the bra was slightly padded and the underwire looked uncomfortable pressed too tightly under the sensitive tissue. _y/n_ would be sure to address this soon. But for now, she moved her hands to Emily’s clavicle, running over her collarbones. _y/n_ noticed that Emily had some birthmarks adorning her skin. One was above her right breast, and the other two were on Emily’s torso. After spending a bit of time feeling over Em’s upper half, _y/n_ softly fell to her knees and began working at the button and zipper of Prentiss’s black slacks. Emily watched as _y/n_ pulled down the fabric of her pants and realized that _y/n_ was kneeling at her body like it was a temple, and Prentiss thought she couldn’t possibly be loved more than this. When her pants were pooled at her feet, Emily moved her right foot up, and _y/n_ pulled her foot free. The process was repeated with the left foot.

At this point, Emily had to reciprocate. She helped _y/n_ her feet and said, “You are so good to me. You have no idea how good you make me feel.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I think I share in your feelings, but putting it to voice, especially now, feels a little difficult.” Em laughed softly at the comment, as her hands moved to the zipper at the back of _y/n_’s _f/j/t_ colored dress. The invisible zipper needed a bit of effort, and Emily carefully held the fabric at the top of the dress as she applied more pressure to get the zipper to move. The zipper was fine moving down the teeth until it got to the waistline, where the fabric was doubled. Here, even with her careful pulling the zipper didn’t seem to want to budge further, and it wasn’t because the dress didn’t fit _y/n_. It fit like a glove custom-made for her body. After another minute of struggle, _y/n_ burst out laughing and said, “Sorry. It’s so funny. I didn’t want to say anything because it was so sexy. You were taking my breath away, but as soon as you started doing that, I knew you were going to have trouble. You have to jimmy it a certain way to get it past the waistline.” Emily gave a little huff, and jokingly said, “Well you could have told me that before.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “Well, I have a potential solution from here on out?” Emily smiled and replied, “Shoot.” _y/n_ leaned forward and said, “We can be nude every time we meet from here on out?” Emily flushed and teased back, “How do you think the senator would like that? How about my boss?” _y/n_ gave Emily a large grin, and she said, “They don’t have to know.” While _y/n_ said this, they moved their hands to their back and Emily gave her space to work the ornery zipper past the difficult spot on the track. Once it was past the waistline, _y/n_ let Emily take charge again, and she quieted to let the moment have its full impact. Prentiss appreciated this, as she moved the zipper down the final six inches of track. As _y/n_ had done with her shirt, Emily removed the fabric of the dress, and _y/n_ moved out of its constraint at her ankles. Emily had taken her heels off when she had gotten in the door, but _y/n_ still had hers on. Thus, Em paralleled _y/n_ and dropped to her knees, and helped remove _y/n_’s _y/f/s/t_ and socks. The last article of clothing that needed to be disposed of to make _y/n_ as bear as Em was _y/n_’s tights. Prentiss took care of removing this thin layer of nylon. Prentiss didn’t want her short nails to snag the cloth and tear it. Once the tights were disposed of, the profiler moved and kissed over _y/n_’s clothed vagina. At the intimate act, _y/n_’s breath hitched, and she said Emily’s name with a need not yet voiced.

_y/n_ pulled Emily up and to the bed. Both moved to remove the other's bra and their hands were a tangled mess, as they tried to both do the same thing at the same time. Again there was a soft laughter between them. Emily said, “If this happened to anyone else _y/n_ I would be so mortified. I would have lost my chill the second the zipper snagged. But with you, with your patience and calm and understanding it doesn’t feel like a big thing. I can honestly laugh with you. It reminds me of our first meeting, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” _y/n_ beamed and said, “You’re someone I want to be real with Em. I want to laugh with you and cry with you, and God do I want to have sex with you.” Hearing this, Prentiss flushed and then both of them moved again as they clasped behind the other's back to undo the other’s bras. As both women disrobed and looked at the other, the feeling of deep longing washed over them. Emily whispered, “You’re so beautiful _y/n_. So beautiful.” She leaned forward and kissed over _y/n_’s breasts. The warm, wet feel of Emily’s mouth over her sensitive flesh caused her nipples to harden. Emily took one of the taught buds in her mouth. She sucked and swirled her tongue over the nipple. _y/n_ let out a sigh, and her own hands moved to Emily’s chest. _y/n_ began kneading Em’s breasts. Without her bra on, the tissue was just slightly less perky than when trapped in the confines of a bra. Em’s nipples hardened too, and _y/n_ used her fingers to pull and tug at the sensitive areas of her body. Emily had to move her mouth away from _y/n_’s breast, so she could let out a gasp of pleasure. Hearing this from Em, _y/n_ moved her hand lower and began rubbing two fingers over her clothed sex. Emily’s panties were wet, soaked through, but _y/n_ hadn’t had the chance to notice, as they were black; hiding the level of Emily’s arousal. _y/n_ said, “Let me get you out of those…” _y/n_ was going to say underwear, but noticed the small VS charm on a tiny silver charm sitting at the center of the delicate bow at the middle of the elastic holding the garment up. Emily chuckled and said, “Hey listen they're comfy and sexy. Two birds one stone?” _y/n_ grinned and said, “There’s no complaints from me love.” _y/n_ leaned down and kissed the second bow, realizing that Emily had had a bow at her neck and a bow down here. Knowing how detail-oriented Em was, it wasn’t by accident.

Emily was about to ask if she could get _y/n_ off first, but _y/n_ stopped her by saying, “Em, please. You’re out there every day saving people who don’t even know it. Who will never understand the things you sacrificed for them? So please let me do this for you first. After that, you can fuck me into tomorrow, but I want to do this.” Emily swallowed and nodded. With her consent, _y/n_ removed Emily’s panties, sliding them off of her hips and down her legs. The underwear was discarded on the floor with their other clothes. _y/n_ looked at the flushed folds of Emily’s vagina and the small patch of dark pubic hair near her entrance. _y/n_ couldn’t wait to get her hands and face in that hair, that needy region. _y/n_ wanted to ensure Emily’s comfort and pleasure and asked, “Would you like oral, or my hand, or I can use a toy you like if you have one?” Emily took deep breaths and said, “I want your mouth. I want those pretty lips of yours on me; in me.” _y/n_ hummed. Both she and Emily had washed off their makeup, so _y/n_ was ready to dive in. _y/n_ got on her knees on the bed. She also pulled Em’s knees up to a ninety-degree angle and a good distance apart so there would be room for her face. Before she started, _y/n_ said, “Tell me if it’s not good. Tell me if you need to change techniques at any time. And, please put your hands in my hair if it is good. I’ve dreamed of that for that last month and to have it happen for real is making me so hot and bothered right now.” Emily nodded and said, “I promise to do those things if I need to. But most certainly the last will be happening.” With this said, _y/n_ moved down. The heat and moisture was alluring to _y/n_. She started by running her nose up the area and wetting it. After this, _y/n_ ran her tongue over Emily’s folds. The taste was slightly salty, but there was a slight aftertaste of talc or matcha — a drying earthy taste. _y/n_ kept moving her tongue this way, and the words and noises came unbridled from Emily. After a few moments of this, _y/n_ started to move her tongue in an infinity symbol moving from the entrance to the clit with each pass. While this was happening, Em moaned out _y/n_’s name. When _y/n_ started sucking on the clit, Emily knew she was racing toward a strong climax. At this point, she ran her hand through _y/n_ hair, pulling and tugging it gently from the follicle. Her grasp strengthened as the feelings got more intense. In the end, Prentiss was moving her hips to increase the friction, and in a moment of pure ecstasy, she felt her body clench and then let go. Emily cried out in pleasure and held _y/n_’s face where it was, pressed to her sex. _y/n_ slowed her tongue slightly, to let Em down gently. As the waves of heat and joy moved through her in long waves, Emily was sure this was the best orgasm she had ever felt.

Once Em had calmed and found herself again, she moved with a passion, getting up and looking at _y/n_. Emily said, “My turn. Let me, ‘fuck you into tomorrow’ like you just did with me. So tell me, what gets my girl off? I’ve got toys like a vibe or a strapon. What do you want, Baby?” _y/n_ very quickly flushed and said, “I just want your hands in me. I’ve dreamed about that too.” Em replied, “Well, well, you shall have them. Now grab that pillow and lay down for me _y/n_. _y/n_ did as told, and Emily positioned the pillow at her partner's lower back and then pushed her back onto the mattress. Prentiss took off _y/n_’s _y/f/c_ bikini-style panties and discarded them at the foot of the bed. Emily kissed _y/n_ passionately, as she started to rub _y/n_’s exposed vagina. Emily could feel _y/n_ dripping against her fingers. Sliding her fingers up and down _y/n_’s labia and clit was so easy. After a few moments of this, and when her pointer and middle fingers were thoroughly coated, Em moved her fingers slowly into _y/n’s entrance. _y/n_ was tight against her hand. At this sensation, _y/n_ gave a needy whine and Prentiss asked, “Is that good for my love?” _y/n_ gasped and replied between breaths, saying, “So good. You feel so good in me.” Emily smiled and said, “Good. I’m glad.” Emily started pumping in and out of _y/n_ while her other hand moved to _y/n_’s left breast. As _y/n_ said her name and moaned against her touch. Emily moved the fingers that were inside _y/n_ to curve up so that she reached _y/n_’s g-spot and _y/n_ made a loud, desperate noise. Hearing this, Emily moved the hand that had been on _y/n_’s breast to _y/n_’s clit and rubbed fast circles over it. _y/n_ could feel herself about to snap as Em’s movements became more frantic. The dripping of pleasure from _y/n_ had moved from a drip to water to an ocean waiting to burst free of a dam. With one more thrust of the hand and movement over the clit, _y/n_ broke down entirely, as she lost control and shouted out in pleasure. _y/n_ had never been so vocal in her response. After a second, Emily removed her hands and moved to kiss _y/n_’s mouth, taking the breath from her partner again. Em rubbed her sticky hand over _y/n_’s thigh. As they both came to themselves a bit, _y/n_ said, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life Em. To have met you the way I did. I love you so very much.” Emily nodded and said, “Same here. You make me feel so happy, and so good and worthy.” There was a silence and Prentiss noticed that neither of their bodies were ramping down, and Em asked, “Would you be down for a second round, _y/n_?” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I was waiting for that profiler instinct in you to notice. How about we come together this time?” Em smiled and nodded. As both women got ready for another set of pleasure and release, they both knew that they were meant for the other both physically and in spirit -- and there would be many more nights like this, bleeding into tomorrows. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…

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cumulo-stratus · 1 year

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01- Lover

pairing- Spencer Reid x Male!reader summary- slow burn story of how spencer reid fell in love with Y/n L/n warnings- profanities, some arguing, lemme know if theres anything else! wc- 2k

a/n- Guys!! im so excited about this idea, orginally it was going to be short blurbs for each time all in one fic but i got carried away and its turned into a series now. And i know im still a little behind on Flufftober ficus but i needed to take a break from writing things to fit a prompt, i was feeling kinda creatively burnt out from it so i just wanted to write something off the top of my head and the song came on my headphones and then i blacked out and here we are lmao, hope you like it! (P.S. so much credit to @avis-writeshq for the inspo around some of it , totally a great writer and you should totally go check them out!)

Notes: (E/C) = Eye color | (H/T) = hair type (curly, wavy, thick, thin etc.)

part 1//part 2

spencer stepped onto the same train he took every morning; the green line for 5 stops, and the red line for 1 after that. Spencer prefers his first leg of the journey though- but thats only because of The Boy. Who’s The Boy, you ask? Well, The Boy is a man on the train, and this man on the train spencer had seen everyday for last 6 months. everyday, 1 stop after spencer gets on The Boy would get on. He would sit in the same seat near the back, put his olive green backpack between his legs, and put his headphones in his ears. he would sit, one leg crossed over the other and read anything from Poe to Austen.

Spencer always stared, now to be fair The Boy was very naturally handsome. He had striking (E/C) eyes, and (H/T) hair. His style often resembled spencers, slacks and button ups with cardigans and sweater vests, The Boy tended to lean towards more bright colors ad fun patterns then spencer.

Today, spencer noticed he had started a new book; A Collected Works of Edgar Allen Poe. Yesterday he had been reading a book on the history of witch craft, spencer thought it went well with the the witch hats and black cats on his knitted sweater, very fitting for October he may add.

And once again spencer was staring (nothing out of the ordinary) but today The Boy looked up at just the right time and caught spencer in the act. He immediately looked down, blushing profusely. But if he had looked back for another second spencer wouldve seen The boys sly smirk, and the slight tinge of warmth on his cheeks. Spencer decided the best possible course of action was to pretend nothing had happened and bury his silent admiration of the mystery boy on the train. But that plan was thrown completely out the window when The mystery boy got up from his seat, picked up his bag and plopped down next to spencer in an open plastic seat. Because little did spencer know but The Boy had done his own fair share of staring at spencer from afar, admiring his natural beauty and book choice. He had been toying with the notion of finally approaching this mystery man, and this was the final push he needed to approach spencer.

“so, you like Poes works?”

spencer looked up to find The Boy looking at him expectedly with a friendly smile. The same boy he had fantasized over for almost 6 months but never even thought of approaching, had just walked up to him and started a conversation.

spencers mind was reeling, to say the least.

but he still managed to squeak out “Yes, he’s one of my favorites” But add in a dash of stuttering and blushing. What can i say? It was an awkward interaction for and awkward guy. But this didnt deter The Boy, who then lit up at spencers words (which also caught spencer off guard and left him reeling for a moment) and said “Me too! but my favorite has to be ‘Annabel Lee’, everyone thinks its the documentation of a man going insane over his obsession with a girl named Annabel Lee. But i personally think its just a guy who’s madly in love, and people are a little jealous of the pure, intense type of love that Poe was writing about..” The boy looked down and blushed, trailing off. spencer looked at him confused and with a surge of confidence said “what-?” with confusion. The boy looked back up, almost surprised at spencers words, at spencers encouragement. This said encouragement gave him the confidence needed to say “im sorry, i realized i was rambling to a stranger on the train and i didnt even introduce myself; Im dr. Y/n L/n, whats your name? Spencer chuckled to himself at how who he now knew as Y/n, managed to say so many words in so little time. “I also have a habit of talking too fast when im nervous, sorry about that” Y/n added, taking care to speak at a slower pace. Spencer didnt mind it and was mostly focused on the fact that Y/n was nervous, did spencer make Y/n nervous? but he wasnt caught up in his thoughts for too long and remembered to respond to Y/ns question “its okay, i ramble a lot too, i dont mind. And im spencer. Dr. Spencer reid-“ spencer cut himself off to finally look at y/n before continuing- “but im not a medical doctor, I have doctorates in Math, Chemistry and Engineering.”

Y/n had an almost proud smile on his face, And said “wow, smart cookie!” his tone was joking of course but spencer still blushed profusely, despite his many attempts to stop it. Y/n continued, not noticing spencers flushed state, much to spencer’s relief. “Im not a medical doctor either though, i have PHDs in both math and physics. I always thought i was above average, but ive been outdone!” Y/ns tone was joking as he said it.

They continued their introductory conversation for another couple minutes when Spencer, in an effort to keep the conversation going, had asked what Y/n was listening to.

“im listening to Ours, by taylor swift, and im not a swiftie, im a taylor swift enjoyer.” Y/n said with a definitive tone. But spencer only looked at Y/n with confusion written across his features. “Whats a- swiftie…?” spencer asked. Y/ns faced seemed to almost drain of color at this statement. “Whats a swiftie?!” his tone was incredulous, as if spencer had committed some heinous act, which he was pretty sure he hadn’t. “swifties are people who thoroughly enjoy the music of none other than the greatest pop musician of all time!” spencer was a little embarrassed, he didnt want to miss out on something Y/n enjoyed so he held his hand out and asked, “maybe i could listen to it with you, and learn about her music?” Y/n grinned at the idea, and handed spencer one of his airpods and restarted the song.

and so for the rest of their train ride, they listened Y/n’s taylor swift playlist. But After hearing Ours, it remained his favorite.

And so, for the next few weeks it continued on like this. Y/n would get on the train at spencers first stop, and B-line straight to the back of the train where spencer had saved a seat for him. And then they would sit and talk, about anything from literature, to art, to science. But one thing always remained; Taylor Swift. Everyday Y/n would have a new collection of song for him to listen to on his airpods as they talked. But Ours still remained his ever favorite, although Cardigan and Willow were close seconds.

Today, however, was different. Today, after much encouragement and much teasing, spencer was going to ask Y/n out. His team couldnt deal with anymore gushing about Y/n, the guy from the train.

spencer waited impatiently for Y/n to step onto the train at his stop. He almost missed and almost ran into at least 2 people on the way to his seat. Y/n plopped down into his seat breathlessly and started his normal routine of pulling out his airpods and queuing up the music. But he was stopped in his tracks, the airpod he was about to offer to spencer, when the latter blurted out “Hey would you maybe wanna go get coffee with me on Saturday afternoon at perfectos?” Spencer had spoken so fast Y/n barely caught it. But he was amazed at spencers attention to detail. Y/n had never even told him he liked perfectos cafe (he was of the firm belief that they made the best coffee in DC). He had just walked in with a cup of coffee from them almost everyday. It made his heart swell at the gesture, and his cheeks redden at spencers question.

that reminded Y/n to answer, instead of just sitting there wide eyed like a deer in headlights. And said; “i’d love that spencer, thank you”

spencer had been so caught up in his thoughts, and worries over the words that had just spilled from his lips moments ago that he was caught off guard at Y/n’s positive response. They both beefed at each other like children for the rest of the ride until Y/n got off, and not even when spencer arrived for work could he wipe the smile off his face, much to the delight of Morgan and JJ.

To Be Continued…

#bau #criminal minds #bau team #spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #cute #fluff #series #train ride #meet cute #taylor swift #swiftie #ours by taylor swift

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frankiebirds · 3 months

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#diana reid #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds rewatch #criminal minds s04e06 #criminal minds 4x6 #my gifs #do you think after the first time someone from the bau meets diana for non-case reasons they approach reid after like #'sooooo. there's no non-offensive way to ask this—how did your sense of humour turn out Like That #after being raised by the funniest woman on the planet?'

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inmyminditsreal · 1 year

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Hey Melody,

That last request was so good. Can you write one where the reader takes Spencer home to meet her family? He's super awkward and smart like he always is. Love you so much! Thanks for being great!!!!!!

Hiii!! Of course your wish is my command!! Idk why but recently ive been writing longer fics, so i hope you enjoy! 💞

Summary: you're taking spencer to meet your family and hes smart and awkward and adorable. Your family loves him.

Fem!reader x spencer reid

Word count: 1.1k

Today is the day you would be taking Spencer to meet your big family. You’re somewhat nervous (almost having a panic attack) because your family can get a little crazy. Nothing harmful, necessarily, but they get excited about things like this. When your brother had brought his girlfriend home they threw a party, ribbons, streamers, gifts, games and so much more. Your brother wouldn’t be coming though, he had work. You’ve already told Spencer all of this and he thought it was sweet. You noticed he was a bit nervous too.

“You okay sweetheart?” You ask while walking up behind him. He’s fixing his tie in the mirror. With a deep breath he says, “Yeah, just a little nervous. Are you sure they’ll like me? I mean you’re you and I'm just me.”

“Yeah and you know what? You’re the best person I've ever met and - might I mention, the love of my life. They’re gonna love you just as much as I do.” you reply back.

He smiles as you lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

“Okay, let’s go?” He says.

“Mhm.”

You walk out hand in hand and begin the drive. Even though you know how awkward Spencer is, you know your family will love him nonetheless. Arriving at your family’s house, you park, then step out. Spencer gives you a nervous smile before you whisper,

“It’ll be okay, trust me.” While you hold out your hand. He takes it and gestures to you to walk toward the door, you do. With a simple knock the night has begun. The door opens and you’re both greeted by your mother,

“Oh hi! You must be Spencer- I’ve heard such great things about you!” She says while wrapping him into a mom hug. You could see his arms try and figure out where to go. They land awkwardly on her upper-back and he gives her a gentle ‘pat pat’. After the strange hugs come to an end Spencer gives her that clumsy nervous smile he always gives and says,

“Yeah! And I-I’ve heard such good things about you as well. Thank you for letti- uhm inviting me Mrs.!”

your mother gestures for him to continue along in the house. He looks to you for the look of approval. You smile and walk with him into the living room. You stop dead in your tracks and see that there's ribbons. There's streamers, and THERE IS a BALLOON WITH ‘Welcome to the family, Spencer!’ ON IT!

You blurt out, “Oh my god, mom! You did not have to do all this!”

“Well, of course I did, honey, this is important.” She laughs.

You shake your head and mutter, “You seriously didn’t.” under your breath.

Spencer smiles and looks at you. You have a look that says ‘sorry my parents are insane.’

He shakes his head and whispers, “It's okay, you aren’t gonna scare me away with balloons and ribbons.”

You smile and nod. Your dad walks up to Spencer while holding out his hand, Spencer hesitantly shakes it and tries to be as firm as possible, clearly.

“Spencer! How are ya?” He says while making scary eye contact with him.

Spencer looks like he’s trying to find words and lands on, “Uhm yeah I’m good, great.”

Your dad gives him a death stare, then guffaws and almost shouts, “HAH! Got ya pal! I’m just kidding! Thanks for coming. You know she really is crazy about you. She keeps having like- hour long phone calls with her mother in the middle of the night, all to talk about you!”

Spencer looks surprised and smiles at you. But he can see you're already giving your dad a mean glare. He can tell you’re joking but, not fully.

Next are your aunties, who seem to be darting directly toward you and Spencer. You can’t avoid what's about to happen.

“Spencer of my gosh you are so handsome!” your first aunty says while cupping his cheeks and then finally, giving the boob-smothering aunty hug and finishing him off with the not-so-subtle cheek kiss. Spencer barely makes it out and you can tell.

“Nice to meet you too.” He says.

Your other aunty just seemed to be entertained by her wine glass so you take that as an escape. You grab Spencer by the hand and go towards your parents. But get caught many times by different family members. With lots of cousin hugs and aunty kisses later, Spencer faintly seems to be surviving. Though, occasionally you give him an ‘are you okay?’ look that he always nods at.

“Can we eat now?” You quip with a pleasant smile. Now finally infront of your parents.

Your mom, standing next your dad, says,

“ Of course! Dinner is ready and we wouldn’t want it to get cold, follow me.”

And we follow her, which lands us sitting at the dining table. You get up to go help your mother, which follows by her pleading that you sit back now. With not too much of a fight, you oblige. You smile at Spencer, he smiles back. You hold his hand under the table. Your mother begins to bring out an entire roast chicken. With mashed potatoes and so much more. You begin to feel hungry, like really hungry. You’d always loved your moms cooking and right now it felt like a necessity to devour it, and you did. You were honestly too busy eating to notice Spencer talking.

“And also 88% of Americans regularly partake in family dinners, 59% of families dine together at least five times weekly. And more generally, 84% of parents agreed that family meals were important but only 50% of family dinners were eaten together.”

You look up at him and can see that your parents eyes are darting in between Spencer and each other. All of your cousins, aunts, and uncles stare at him.

“Wow! I mean honey you told me he was smart but I didn’t know you meant a walking encyclopaedia!” Your mother looks at you and laughs.

Your dad smiles and adds, “Way to go kid!”

Everyone makes sweet remarks and begs him to tell them about random topics regarding their lives.

Spencer smiles at them and then at you. You all spend the rest of the night listening to Spencer's occasional genius blabber, your parents' corny jokes, you laughing at them, your uncle's bold jokes, and your aunt's wine glass clinking against yours. As the night comes to an end, you and Spencer are standing at the door, saying your goodbyes.

“You are just great together! It was a pleasure meeting you Spencer.” Your mother says, giving him yet another mom hug, but definitely not the last one. And your dad walks up to Spencer, pats him on the shoulder and says, “You really are a special kid, glad you two found each other.”

You're surprised to hear that coming from your dad, and you give him a reassuring look that he knows is a, ‘thank you.’

“It was great to meet you guys too. I look forward to seeing you both again.” Spencer promises.

You smile, giving your parents more goodbyes and hugs. With the shut of the door the night ends.

You both walk out, hand in hand. Smiling at each other and giggling.

“How’d I do?” Spencer asks.

“You were perfect, absolutely perfect.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencerreid #fem!reader x spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #readerxspencerreid #bau #spencer reid meeting your family

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aliteralsemicolon · 1 month

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would you ever writer fics for other characters either within or outside of criminal minds?

Character fixations for me are rare. Spencer is the first fictional character I've ever been obsessed with in this way. I fear I've locked in and will probably not be stepping out 🤞😙

#; answers #✉️ from anon #he matches my freak too well #I'm nothing if not loyal ig #I just can't look at others the same #believe me I've tried #I'm looking at you abandoned elijah mikaelson fic #and abandoned hotch x reader that meet in witness protection which is the real reason hotch doesn't go back to the BAU bc he's terrified #of losing reader like he lost haley #feel free to steal that if any hotch writers see it

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starshapedsuns · 3 months

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Criminal Minds DR: Playlist & Starting Point

First Case Playlist:

Entertaining (HalaCG)

Gossip (Chloe Breez's Cover)

Bubblegum Bitch (MARINA)

Klown Bitch (Sam Haft / Andrew Underberg)

Don't Lose Ur Head (SIX / Christina Modestou)

Starting Point:

I plan on jumping in at my first case. I'm 19, fresh out of high school (redshirted for cheerleading), and not actually part of the FBI yet.

To start, a party I'm at gets raided because the cops were tipped off about drug use there. I end up getting arrested too, even though I didn't take any drugs yet, or even have any on me. And while I'm at the station I notice that there's a lot of FBI agents crawling around.

And that's when they see me, a, from their point of view, decent choice for a mole; a young, mid-looking, and feminine presenting person. Seriously, one look and they're like, "Yeah, we can use that".

So after I'm questioned by the police an agent comes in, he's a unit chief of "insert unit here", and he pulls the "well, you could be looking at x, y, and z for what went down at the party, but we can make a deal" card, and even though I know he's bluffing I'm down for it, no questions asked. Not even when they tell me I'll be going undercover to help take down a drug and weapons ring.

Because really, what could go wrong?

#this is years before I actually join the bau or meet anyone in it #i have no idea if a deal like that is actually legal - but it's for the plot so...#criminal minds dr #shifting playlist #shiftblr #shifting community #reality shifter #reality shifting #shifters #shifting blog #shifting realities #shifting motivation #reality shift #desired reality #shifting antis dni #anti shifters dni

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only-one-brain-cell · 1 year

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Headcannon that while Pen wants to know everything about Mark Emily just goes forget Mark I wanna know about Maeve. (Because Maeve is alive and their thriving as a couple.) Spencer is bright red like any other time Maeve is mentioned. Emily insists on meeting her so while they are in the elevator Spencer calls her, which is bad because he starts off the call with “hi sweetheart.”

“OH MY GOD YOU CALL HER SWEETHEART??!”

“…. That was Emily she wants to meet you we are all going out to eat.”

“Tell me where and I’ll meet you there.”

“Ok., I love you.”

“Love you too Spence.”

Emily when Maeve shows up: I love your cardigan oh my god you two are matching that’s so cute, come sit I have a thousand questions.

Spencer: did Emily just steal my girlfriend?? *sits and pouts because he’s not getting cuddles while in Maeve’s presence.*

#criminal minds #spencer reid #maeve donovan #emily prentiss #Emily Pen Derek and Luke would be their biggest fans #Emily would embarrass him sooooo much #god forbid Maeve comes to the BAU to meet Spencrr poor thing would get pulled away by one of them the minute she steps in #Emily when Spencer finally gets to kiss Maeve: Reid let her breath god damn what are you trying to do kill her?#or EW get a room

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wistfulwatcher · 2 months

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treating cme like visual fanfic written by someone who has seen the show once and has taken no notes

#i can't not watch it #but man #very much a gotta pick and choose what you like and discard the rest kind of situation #which i am historically Very Bad At Doing but i'm doing my best #ww text #(tbf the timeline has always been fucked but this is next level)#tina belcher labels dot gif #every time they talk about how rossi and gideon founded the bau...like we didn't meet gideon's mentor in s1 #that founding basement room gets smaller every season eventually rossi will be the Sole Founder Of The BAU #(and “it started with jill” fuck carolyn i guess??)#criminal minds evolution spoilers #to be safe #mine

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ace-of-anunnaki · 2 years

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Day 5: Bau

Originally more of a “life giving” or nurturing type goddess, considered as a divine midwife, she later picked up a medicinal function. She had two attested spouses, Ningirsu (Ninurta) in Girsu and Zababa in Kish. Unlike Gula and the other medicine deities, Bau was not associated with dogs, rather scorpions and various waterfowl.

I probably should have drawn her as older (once source notes that Gula was given her position by Bau) but I wanted to make her appear of similar age to Ninurta.

Bonus doodles:

I based Bau’s design off a statue of her where she is seated next to a goose - though I wasn’t sure if the things hanging down on her shoulder were hair or part of her clothes.

#annunaki #inktober #mesopotamian mythology #medicine goddesses #Bau #Bau didn’t get the dog memo so she shows up to the medicine goddess meet up with a scorpion on a leash

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skylarmoon71 · 2 years

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Aaron Hotchner- Oneshot (Criminal Minds/Grimm Crossover) Extra

“Good work (Y/N).”

The praise you get from your boss is truly all one can hope for. He’s not the most vocal, but he’s never been one to spare his comments when there was a job well done.

Since working with the BAU, your status has increased, and so has your need to help. Watching what they faced on a daily sort of triggered a passion. You were now one of the main techs situated for cyber crimes. Before you mostly worked in minor hackings, or computer jobs around the offices whenever a worker couldn’t get their computer to work. It wasn’t that you weren’t qualified. You just preferred that area. You were hiding.

Being wesen played a part in it. You’d gotten pretty good at staying out of the public eye.

But now, you realized just how little you were doing.

A big part of this change is thanks to Hotch.

A grimm of all people. Thinking about it still makes you smile.

Life really was ironic sometimes.

As you’re packing your items to head home for the day, you pass by Hotcnher’s office. It’s a long shot that he’ll actually be there. But there is no harm in checking. You adjust your bag on your shoulder, walking out of the elevator. Your eyes catch the light that is still lit in that room. Moving up the stairs, you knock when you’re at the door.

“Come in.”

You enter, and his eyes lift from the pages of paperwork.

“Hey.” You greet.

“How is cyber crime?”

“Not as exciting as the BAU, but I’ll live.” He sends a little smile of his own.

“Are you usually the last one to leave the office?”

He’s the unit chief, but even the boss needed sleep.

“I was just finishing up.” He closed the document in front of him.

“Great, do you want to grab some dinner?”

Hotch’s gaze changes.

“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen? I am Grimm. “

“It’s not exactly something you forget.” Your reply is a bit sarcastic, and your hand tightens just a little on your bag.

“I wanted to say thank you. Because of you I'm doing something important. Worthwhile. I would have never gotten here if you didn’t push me. “

Hotch rises from his seat.

“I didn’t do much. But I appreciate it.” You grin.

“So dinner?”

He nods.

“Give me five minutes.”

You salute.

“Alright boss.”

You say jokily as you exit his office. He knows this is merely a friendly invitation. There is nothing in your body language that suggests flirtation. An observation that leaves him a bit disappointed. Nevertheless he gathers his things. Even if this was a platonic dinner, maybe it could become more.

~~~

“What about your parents?”

“Only my mother had the gene.”

“Woah…”

When you got to the restaurant a few blocks away, you never thought the conversation would lead in this direction. In all honesty, you were curious. There is not much you know about Grimms other than the usual decapitation stories.

“I guess I just assumed everyone in your family had it.”

“My younger brother doesn’t. We’re not much different from wesen. The gene isn’t always passed down. There’s a fifty fifty chance. Especially if both parents have it. “

He wasn’t wrong.

“In a lot of ways, Wesen and Grimm are similar. Haven’t you ever wondered why we’re the only ones who see wesen? We must be connected in some way. “

That evaluation really isn’t that far fetched.

“I never really thought about it.”

At the very beginning all your meetings were filled with so much hostility. But now, sitting across from Hotch is comforting. There’s not a whole lot of people that you can have this conversation with. Most of your friends aren’t even wesen.

“It’s crazy isn’t it. I never really considered or even imagined that I’d be sitting right next to a Grimm having dinner. Our Ancestors are probably rolling in their graves. “

“Or celebrating a new era.” He lifts his glass, and you smile. Reaching for your own. You lift it.

“To a new era.” Your glasses knock, both exchanging a look.

~~~

The night draws to an end. Hotch is walking you to your car. Pulling out your keys, you press the button as your lights flicker.

“I really enjoyed dinner, Hotch. We should do it again. I’m interested in knowing more of the Grimm lineage. Maybe I’ll even learn something about myself. “

“It sounds like you’re taking advantage of me.” He states. You laugh.

“I guess I will be. “ You send him a soft smile.

“Thanks again Hotch. It’s nice to have a friend who understands all of this.”

“We’re friends now?”

“I know, it shocked me too!” He’s the one who laughs this time.

“Have a good night (Y/N).”

“You too Hotch.” He opens your door, and you slide into the car. Hotch watches as you back out, sending you a wave as you take off.

“Friends.”

That’s the thought that runs through his head.

~~~~

“Happy Birthday Sir!”

You’re standing next to Garcia who gushes the words the second Hotch steps out of the office. You’re not even surprised when she runs to the desk to grab a small floral bag.

“Today’s your birthday?” You ask. He nods. Morgan and the rest of the team begin greeting him, each apparently carrying a present of their own.

“Most people prefer to celebrate at home, you know.” You whisper.

His eyes move to the team as they talk amongst themselves about the choice in gifts.

“This is my home.”

His response isn’t what you expect. When Garcia races back, the smile they all wear catches you. It draws you in. Suddenly it makes sense. None of his coworkers know his true identity, and you suppose it doesn’t even matter. Because despite what he is, they all care about each other. No restrictions.

It’s incredible.

Unconditional.

You send him a little smile as you make your exit.

Grimms really weren’t anything like you imagined. That’s for sure.

“Knock knock.”

Hotch is familiar with the voice. You enter the office, closing the door behind you. He’s also begun to anticipate your late night dinners.

“I swear if I don’t show up you’ll never leave this place.”

“Tempting.” You roll your eyes, and it’s then he sees you have your hands behind your back.

“Should I be worried?” He inquires. You shake your head, moving closer as you place the small bag on his desk.

“Happy Belated Birthday. I’m a week late, but you’ve been gone for a while. So I figured I had some leeway.” He’s a bit surprised.

“Thank you.”

Hotch reaches out for the bag, pulling the loose piece of gift paper. When he lifts the gift. It’s a polaroid camera.

“I remember you said you have a son.” You take a seat.

“It’s important to enjoy all the moments you’re offered with the people you care about. This will help you track all those important memories, even if it’s hard to spend every single day with them. “ There’s more to this than what you let on. Hotch takes notice. It’s clear this has as much sentiment to you that you hope he carries with him.

“Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.”

You feel strangely satisfied.

“So how about dinner? There's an Italian place a few blocks from here that serves amazing pasta.” You practically jump out of your seat.

“Ready to ditch the paperwork.”

Hotch stands, but there’s something different about his gait when he moves closer.

“I feel like I should make myself perfectly clear.” You’re a bit confused.

“Clear about what?”

“I don’t want these dinners to be platonic.”

Your brain takes a moment to catch up. The heat crawls up your face before you can stop it, and your eyes flicker a gold hue. You back up, shutting your eyes.

“W-Wait you mean you-” your eyes open, and he’s right in front of you. Swallowing, you look up.

“I considered that you really were oblivious to the hints I was sending out.”

You feel a bit stupid.

“But I’m-”

“Wesen? I thought we already established that It doesn’t matter. “

Still even if he says that, it doesn’t change the fact that this is a little weird.

“I-I.”

You woge against your will, flinching. You fully expect maybe a look of uncertainty, possibly disgust. Although his eyes have gone dark, his expression hasn’t changed. He lifts his hands, brushing the white fur that adorns your cheeks. His touches elect a soft pur against your will. Your eyes clenched shut, and your mouth fell open. Why can’t you find it in yourself to pull away. Hotch inches closer, his breath wafting over your lips. You hold back another desperate sound.

“If you want this to stop, please tell me..”

You aren’t sure how to respond to that. Because a part of you still doesn’t truly believe it is happening.

“Hotch we..we shouldn’t..” He pulls back, and instinctively, you find your head lolling forward. He turns his head, lips not fully touching.

Just a teasing brush.

“We really shouldn’t. It’s wrong.” He mumbles.

You nod, still not pulling back.

“I’m a Grimm..I’m dangerous.” He whispers into your ear. You gulp.

“We really shouldn’t...”

The more he speaks, the more you seem to want it. A part of you thinks this is some kind of profiler thing.

“Please..” You beg.

“Please what?”

“Please kiss me.”

Hotch doesn’t need any more encouragement. His lips crash against your own, desperate, hungry. You’re a bit concerned about how needy it feels. He backs you up, and you hit the door softly. Hotch discards his jacket in one swift go, pinning your arms to the door. You’re a bit impressed that he hasn’t nicked any of your sharp teeth. Especially with how eager the kisses are.

You’ve never been dominated like this.

You always knew his kind was dangerous, but this was not what you thought when that word came to mind. You’re fighting to keep up. You woge back, but that doesn’t even deter him. You’re not even sure he really notices. He still has you braced up against the door. You grip at his shirt, tugging, pulling.

When his lips finally part, they move to your neck, and you bite down on your lip when he begins leaving kisses along your skin.

“Do you still think this is wrong?” He challenges. You’re barely catching your breath.

What can you say to that? You just shake your head, and he smirks when he sees the light in your irises.

Maybe a Grimm and a Wesen isn’t such a bad thing.

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emberfrostlovesloki · 11 months

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Eclipsed [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@without-ado) Center (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Right (Google)

Prompt: A one-shot about how the reader saved Aaron from a date gone wrong and when Aaron, Jack, and the reader go to see the solar eclipse together.

Pairing: Aaron x fem presenting reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: Hurt/comfort/fluff (at the end)

Word Count: 6.6K

Content warnings: Mentions of a break-up and cheating (reader), mention of alcohol and drinking, there is an inebriated person (they are safe), unwanted touch (on the chest [Hotch]), mention of extremist ideologies, mention of bombings, death by bomb (unsub and victim), religious intolerance (religion not specified), veterans issues, slight body image issues (Hotch), slight depression (Hotch and reader), mention of drugs, therapists. Post - Hailey’s passing. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Hi loves. It’s time for another meet-cute one-shot. This story is based on the fact that I got to see the solar eclipse two weekends ago. It’s also inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins and her awesome Meet Cute Writing Challenge. The prompt I went off of was: Characters are both stood up at the same date spot. I also want to thank Rome @criminalskies who I bounced this idea off of. Their comments helped build up this narrative. Also, this fic takes place a few years after Hailey’s death. Those who know about astronomy will know that those in Virginia would not actually see the full eclipse, but please just suspend your belief in reality for the sake of the story. I hope you all like this story, and if you do, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you all have a great Tuesday - Levi

List with all stories

y/n = your name

y/f/a/d = your favorite alcoholic drink

l/n = your last name

e/c = your eye color - aka green eyes, brown eyes, hazel eyes, etc,

y/n was nursing an old-fashioned and bruised ego. It had been half an hour, and “Jake” hadn’t shown up for their date at the bar. She had done all the things that those trying to get back into dating recommended: Pick good realistic pictures, be honest about expectations in the bios, and actually get out there on dates. Because generally, relationships were rarely made solely online. One had to actually go out and meet the guy or girl that had piqued the person’s interest. y/n had gone as far as Facetiming Jake to make sure he wasn’t a catfish. Something about his pictures looked a little too good to be true. But he had been real, and y/n was honestly surprised that he had shown an interest in her.

y/n had agreed to meet him at his favorite bar downtown. She half agreed to see if Jake was pulling her leg. y/n had not been very successful in her dating life. There had been a few flubbed relationships in college and then she had thought she had met the love of her life. It had started out as long distance, but she and her partner had met in person and sparks flew. They had committed and a year later they were engaged. She really thought she was going to have it all. ‘You stupid idiot,’ y/n’s inner monologue chided. y/n took another sip of her drink. She had moved to D.C. for them. It was at that point that she realized that her supposed faithful lover had been cheating on her for five months. And there she was in a new city, looking for a new job, and in some of the worst emotional pain of her life. It had taken her a full year to recover from the hurt and betrayal. y/n now looked at love with a bitterness that she never thought would happen to her. She never thought she was going to grow up to be a cat lady, and as relaxing and unbothered as that life sounded like, part of her still longed for a soft and gentle love. For someone to lean on.

As y/n finished her drink, her gaze fell back to the bar. She cringed at what she saw. It had been happening for the last half hour and it was like watching a trainwreck. She wanted to avert her eyes, but she couldn’t look away. It had started when the very handsome man had stepped into the bar. He was tall and gave off a commanding aura. y/n had rolled her eyes at her brain's choice of words. At this point, she checked the door every time someone came in to see if it was Jake. He was already ten minutes late. But it wasn’t Jake, it was this tall, fit man in a suit and tie that she thought might be Dolce and Gabbana. ‘Out of your tax bracket,’ she thought. y/n tore her eyes away from the man and pulled out her phone to text her date. When it became apparent to her that he wasn’t coming, she got a drink for herself. She’d driven twenty minutes to get here after all, so she was going to enjoy it solo. As she turned back to her spot, she saw the man again. He was seated at a table like hers. He also seemed to be waiting for something. As she passed him, he turned his wrist to look at his watch again. y/n clocked the Rolex, and she was starting to feel a bit jealous of whoever was supposed to be joining this stranger. She huffed at herself. As y/n sat and took a sip of her y/f/a/d she thought, ‘You really need to work on your negative self-talk.’ It took a few more minutes before the attractive man’s face seemed to fall into a morose expression. y/n hadn’t seen the man smile yet, but his face was more somber now than it had been before. He was also looking at the door from time to time, and y/n genuinely wondered if he had also been stood up. She couldn’t help but think, ‘Well whoever stood this guy up is a real dummy.’

A few minutes later, the man got up and moved to a seat at the bar instead. The place was crowded. She assumed he did this to make room for a group that had just entered the establishment. This meant the man was kind and had a taste in fashion. Double whammy. The trainwreck part of the night started when a woman, who was clearly a few drinks in, started hitting on the man. The inebriated woman had ordered a drink and made a comment about “How such a hot guy was at a bar alone?” The man had politely answered but showed no interest in a continued conversation. The woman did not pick up on these cues. The man declined when the woman asked to buy him a drink and to have him join her at her table upstairs. Finally, the woman went away, and the man looked relieved. But if anything, apart from the fact that the woman had probably had one too many, was the fact that she was relentless. She had come back and tried to convince the man two more times to join her or go home with her, or any assortment of awkward pick-up lines and lewd suggestions she could think of. Given what he was enduring, the man was handling the situation with incredible grace and decorum.

y/n actually felt a small bit of pity for the drunk woman. She didn’t have her full faculties and if she had that much to drink, she might be throwing herself at the man just the same. And now the woman was back for a third time. And this time she was getting handsy. It was at this that y/n felt discomfort. The man was firmer now, but the woman’s hands continued to feel over his shoulders and chest. The man looked around uncomfortably, and y/n thought, ‘Would someone stop this, please!” y/n clearly realized that if someone was going to stop what was happening at the bar, then it was going to have to be her. A wild and outlandish idea hit her, and she couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She stood and approached the pair. y/n cleared her throat and stood next to the man, separating him from the woman. She placed her hand on his shoulder. As he looked at her, she stated, loudly enough for the other woman to hear, “Hey, honey. Sorry, it took me so long to get here. The traffic was terrible getting into the city.”

Aaron was suffering. The latest case had been rough. The unsub was a veteran who had fallen on hard times and had started using drugs to cope with the trauma he had endured during the first invasion of Iraq. Along with the drugs, he had started to form delusions and fallen into some extremist conspiracy theories. The man had started bombing churches, and at the last minute, the team was able to save a religious building from imploding. And Aaron was relieved by this, but he had made a bad call. He fully assumed that the unsub would give up and get the treatment he desperately needed if the man’s former commanding officer gave the unsub orders to stand down. The man did seem to give up, but at the last second, the unsub approached his old superior. He pulled out a trigger and set off a pipe bomb that he had hidden in his cargo pants; killing himself and his former officer instantly.

The team was lucky that the area was cleared by the bomb squad because the blast was so strong that it shook the ground and knocked out the glass windows two buildings away. And now Aaron had to live with his choice to send an active duty and decorated military officer into that situation. He had gambled and lost. After that, there had been piles and piles of paperwork, and a reprimand from Strauss about his ability to do his job well and lead the team. There was also a piece in the news highlighting the team's failure. Hotch had made sure that any heat the team took from the public was aimed at him. They hadn’t been the ones to make the call. He had. And yes, the paperwork, reprimand, and public disapproval were annoying, but it was never going to be enough to make up for the loss of life. After this, Aaron actually felt like he understood how Gideon had felt those many years ago in Boston.

Hotch had completely forgotten that he had agreed to meet a woman he was talking to on a dating app three days after he had returned home from the case. She had texted him in the morning asking if they were still on. He felt like it was too late to cancel on the woman, so he agreed even if he really wasn’t feeling it. He planned to fake it on the date, gently let the woman down, and then delete everything off his phone when he got home. He wasn’t in a place to be in a relationship right now. Aaron was glad when his date didn’t show up. Once what felt like an appropriate time had passed for him to sit at the table for two, he got up and moved to the bar. He did like this bar, which is why he had suggested it in the first place. Hotch would never be a man to drown his sorrows, but tonight, after everything that had happened, he allowed himself to have a drink alone. Then a different kind of discomfort from being stood up appeared, as a woman approached him. Aaron did everything he could to let her down and get her to leave him alone with his thoughts. The logical side of Hotch’s brain told him to get up and leave, but some maladapted piece of him told him that this was some sort of cosmic justice for his mistakes. He was uncomfortable when the woman started touching him, and at this point, with no other solution in sight apart from fleeing the scene, he got ready to close out.

When another woman approached him and stood between himself and the person who had essentially been groping his chest. He felt even more apprehensive. But when the new stranger said, “Hey, honey. Sorry it took me so long to get here. The traffic was terrible getting into the city,” he blinked a few times in confusion. It took him a beat to realize what the new person was offering; a lifeline. Hotch immediately played along and said, “Now worries, darling. I’m just happy you got here safe. I know it can be a long commute.” The woman gave him a reassuring smile, and he continued, “How about we find a place that’s a little more private?” The woman nodded, and Aaron got up from his seat. The other woman who was still standing close by looked crestfallen, as the two of them moved across the room to the table y/n had been sitting at before. Aaron, having the opportunity to really make this look real of the woman still standing at the bar, ghosted his arm behind his savior's waist. He didn’t actually make physical contact with her body. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or for her to think that he was some creep taking advantage of her kindness, but he faked it well enough, and the woman at the bar made a hasty retreat upstairs.

At the table, they both sat down for a second, and Aaron sincerely said, “Thank you. I was really at a loss back there.” The woman gave him a small smile and replied, “I’m happy to help. I can’t believe that actually worked. It felt like being in the scene of a romcom.” For the first time that evening, Aaron smiled. It was small, but it was still an actual smile. He extended his hand and said, “Aaron, Hotchner.” The woman took it and replied, “y/n, l/n.” There was a moment of silence and then the woman said, “Aaron huh. I kind of pegged you as a Thomas.” Again there was another silence and Aaron looked at the table and asked, “I’m sorry, am I in someone’s seat? Are you waiting for somebody?” y/n seemed to deflate at this and said, “No. The man who was supposed to be meeting me made it pretty clear that he wasn’t going to show up forty minutes ago when he was allegedly arriving.” Hotch let out a breath and said, “Well, you’re not alone in that.”

Hearing this response confirmed that Aaron had been stood up like she assumed. y/n replied, “Sometimes I really can’t stand the idea of dating anymore.” Aaron heard the sarcastic bite of the statement, but underneath there was a real note of sorrow. He took a moment to look over y/n carefully. For someone that had their date ditch them, y/n seemed nonplussed, comfortable even. She was leaning against the back of her chair with one hand slung over the back. She had an air of disinterest like nothing could bother her. Somehow Aaron didn’t believe the persona she was exuding. He looked over her face. It was too dark in the bar for him to see if her e/c's were dilated or not. Whenever Hotch made a close observation of those he got close to, especially women.

They had some kind of attraction tell. He couldn’t figure out why exactly. What they saw in him apart from his height which he knew some people were attracted to. Other than that, he was rapidly approaching middle age, his crows-feet stated that clearly to the world. And though he tried to stay active between cases, taking care of Jack meant less physical activity, and that showed on his body. He didn’t hate himself or anything, just that he thought he could be improved. Aaron snapped to the present when y/n said, “I’m going to grab another drink? Do you want something?” Hotch thought for a second. In y/n’s offering to get him a drink was an invitation for him to stay a bit longer. He didn’t want to intrude, but talking to y/n meant he couldn’t hold a pity party for himself. He also wanted to see if y/n really was as nonchalant as she let on. He cleared his throat and said, “Yes. A gin and tonic, please.” y/n nodded and moved back to the bar.

As she went to get a second round of drinks, she could still feel how Aaron’s warm eyes had been looking at her -- deeply, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. She hadn’t fully expected him to accept her offer for a drink, but she had asked because she wanted to spend a few more minutes with him. Because she didn’t expect to spend a lot of time with anyone like this again in a long while, so why not go out with a bang? Also, there was the fact that he was very attractive. The closer he got to her, the better he looked. As she waited for her order, she casually looked back at Aaron, and he seemed to have drifted to a distant place. She frowned. Like this, he looked sad. She wondered what was bothering him so much. Before her breakup, people had told her that she wore her heart on her sleeve, and she was a fool for doing so. After the cheating incident, she had buried that part of her deep inside. But sometimes it came out. When she was sad or needed comfort, or she saw someone hurting. The bartender called for y/n, and she took the glasses in her hand. y/n moved back to the table and she set down their drinks. She was about to sit down, but a noise from behind her caught her attention.

Aaron sat straighter when y/n came back. He said, “Thank you,” and he watched as y/n pulled out of her chair. He watched as the woman who had been hitting on him seemed to be getting ready to leave. She was on unsteady feet and had her keys out. She kept jiggling said keys as she moved toward the door. Hotch frowned and thought that he should do something. Before he could, y/n quietly said, “Excuse me.” y/n turned and moved a few feet across the floor to the woman. Aaron was close enough to the pair to hear y/n say, “Hey ma’am. Miss.” The woman attempting to leave turned and moved toward y/n. y/n put a steadying hand on the woman’s arm and said, “Hey again, you’re not going to try and drive home right?” The woman slurred but affirmed that was her plan. y/n nodded her head no, and replied, “No. I don’t think you should drive. Let me get you an Uber or a cab?” The woman replied, “‘Is only a few blocks down. I’m okay.” y/n replied encouragingly, “Great, if it’s close, then an Uber can get you there in no time and it won’t be expensive. I don’t want you driving. It’s not safe for you.” y/n pulled out her phone and after a second, asked the woman for her address. It took the woman a moment, but she finally thought of it and punched it in on y/n’s phone. y/n double-checked with the woman that this really was her address before punching the request ride button.

The Uber was only two minutes away, and one of the bar's employees offered to walk the woman out once he had the license plate written down. When this was done, Aaron watched as she moved back to the table. When she sat down again, she said, “Sorry about that.” As she took a sip of her drink. He said, “Don’t be. That was very kind of you.” For the first time that night, those words seemed to get to the woman. She flushed slightly and let out the smallest of exhales. And maybe, just maybe he had been right about her not being as aloof as she let on. y/n replied, “Honestly if you left me in this bar for another two hours I might be acting like her.” She paused and tacked on, “I have acted like her, many, many years ago.” Aaron and the y/n spoke for the remainder of their drinks. They talked about easy topics like bands and the weather. Aaron shifted the conversation away from work. He was having an enjoyable time, and he didn’t want to have to think about his job right now. There would be plenty of time for that when he got home. As the two parted ways, neither expected to see the other ever again.

It wasn’t until next month that their paths crossed again like figure skaters on a frozen lake. Aaron was feeling much better. Less despondent. The team had really bolstered around him. They weren’t clingy, because they knew he hated that, but they had been understanding, compassionate even. Hotch was gearing up for another Monday in the office. He was just taking off his two guns and placing them along with his keys and sunglasses in a plastic container. His briefcase and duffle also went into a tray that would go through security. The security guard motioned for Aaron to move through the metal detector which he did. And as he did every day he was in the office, he lifted his arms slightly as the guard patted him down the chest and legs. This was an obvious security need for the job, but he didn’t always like it. He didn’t get a lot of physical contact, and this didn’t exactly cut it for comfort. But it was always quick, and he would grab his things and pretend that it didn’t bother him.

Aaron looked up when he heard Daryl Jones's deep baritone voice coming his way. Agent Jones was the Unit Chief for the Drug and Firearm unit like he was the Chief of the BAU. The two teams intersected on cases every now and then. Aaron was never not surprised by Jones’s deep voice. It was the deepest voice he had ever heard. There was another voice too. Much lighter in pitch and tone. Hotch looked up and was surprised to see the woman who had helped him during the uncomfortable encounter at the bar. He wracked his brains for her name, and after a moment it came to him; y/n. The security guard let him go, and Aaron quickly took his things and moved toward y/n and Jones. As he drew nearer, y/n looked over to him and the surprise on her face must have looked like he had moments earlier. She looked over his badge. Rather awkwardly, y/n extended her hand and said, “Hello again, Aaron.” Hotch took her hand and replied, “Good morning, y/n. Is everything alright?”

Jones looked between the two and asked, “Agent Hotchner, do you know Ms. l/n?” Aaron could sense that y/nwas slightly embarrassed, and he answered quickly, “We’ve met once before.” Jones nodded and y/n looked up to Aaron and answered his question saying, “I think everything will be alright. Thanks to Agent Jones.” Daryl replied, “Well, I’ll do what I can, and if you see anything else suspicious or troubling please come and see me again, alright?” y/n nodded and said, “I will, thanks.” Jones nodded and gave the woman a reassuring pat on the shoulder. As she moved forward, y/n turned back to Aaron and said, “It was good to see you again Aaron.” With that, she moved through security and out the doors of the bureau.

Hotch watched, as she left, and he turned back to Jones and asked, “What was that all about?” Jones moved with Aaron back toward the elevators and said, “You know about the Menendez cocaine ring we’ve been trying to crack?” Hotch nodded yes, but wasn’t sure how this factored into the discussion of y/n. All the Unit Chiefs met weekly and updated the others on what was happening, and if there was any need for the teams currently working on a case to cross-coordinate. Jones’s team had been after a drug cartel for months, but every time they got close, the leads seemed to disappear. Jones had started to believe that there must be someone on the inside who was either FBI or police. As it turned out, Daryl might be right as he said, “Well Ms. l/n was trying to file a report about some drug activity. Janet, my liaison had asked her why she didn’t go to the police, and l/n stated that she had seen an officer she knows works for the city going into the house allegedly selling drugs.

She was scared that if she reported it to LEOs, there might be repercussions.” Aaron processed the information. y/n was right to avoid the cops if she expected them to be involved. There had been many cases where those supposed to be protecting and serving, overstepped those boundaries. Jones continued his story and said, “When Janet heard the part about the potential police involvement, she brought me in on the conversation. I asked Ms. l/n a lot of questions. She was very patient. And by the end of that conversation, I’m pretty sure we have a good lead for Menendez.” Hotch let out a breath.

For a second a flash of fear for y/n moved through him. Having her, or anyone living near illegal activity was dangerous. Doubly so now that she had made a report about it. Aaron pushed that thought aside. As unfortunate as it was, he didn’t have the time to be worried about everybody. If he did there would be no time to get any work done. It was good that the Menendez case was getting some new life, and Aaron said, “It’s good you have a new lead. I understand that the case has been ongoing for a while.” Jones sighed and said, “Tell me about it.” There was a moment of silence as the men got on the elevator and pushed their floor buttons.

Daryl looked over to Aaron and asked, “How do you know y/n exactly;?” Hotch flushed briefly and said, “We just ran into each other last month. I don’t know her personally.” Hotch was glad that Jones was not a profiler, because if he was, his colleague might see how his body was softly saying, ‘But you want to know her personally.’ Aaron sighed and exited the elevator on floor six. He moved past the bullpen and up to his office. As he sat, he couldn’t deny that y/n was beautiful. She had been dressed up at the bar. She had been expecting a date after all. But today she was dressed more casually and it looked good on her. Aaron let out a breath and settled into his chair. It was going to be a day full of paperwork, and with head a bit aflutter, he didn’t mind the mindless work for once.

The next time they met would be the one that started their relationship. Aaron was sitting in the waiting room to be called back by his therapist. Strauss had required him to attend seven therapy sessions after the bombing incident. She didn’t want a repeat of Gideon. Aaron had gone and talked about what had happened. Talked about his feelings. It was awkward, but he knew why he needed to go. When the required sessions were over, he decided to continue with a different therapist. Someone who might better address his personal needs and complicated past. That was how he met Dr. Chekov. At the consultation, Aaron felt good, and the therapist agreed to take Aaron on as his client.

Now they met monthly on Tuesday evenings after he was finished with work. Aaron was grateful to have a safe space to air his emotions and thoughts about the past and present. He thought it was doing things to better his mental health. He had slowly stopped beating himself up about his body. He was now working through the grief that was losing Hailey. It was some of the most painful work he had done, but it was necessary. He knew that he couldn’t carry that hurt forever. At least not how it was now. Aaron checked his watch. Dr. Chekov must be running over with another client. Hotch’s eyes raised to the door as the bell went off. His eyes widened when y/n walked through the open door. He thought, ‘You have to be kidding me.’ The office space housed multiple therapists, so it wasn’t surprising that someone else would be waiting in the waiting room, but it was surprising that y/n would end up in the same building as him, again.

y/n checked in for her appointment with her therapist. She had to reschedule her appointment due to a work emergency. Her therapist, Dr. Glen, had been very accommodating and had slipped her in at a later time that week. She turned once she had handed the form to the receptionist to find a seat while she waited. The office was pretty empty, but her eyes caught onto Aaron’s, and she let out a small breath of surprise. She could see that he was just as surprised as her, and y/n smiled and moved to sit next to him. She pointed to the chair adjacent to his and asked, “This seat taken?” It was a rhetorical question. Hotch chuckled at her inquiry. The office was virtually empty. He replied, “I think it is.”

y/n sat next to him, and as she put her purse on the ground their shoulders touched. Feeling the warmth of her body, even for a moment, made him flush. When y/n righted, she looked at him and said, “It’s nice to see you again, Aaron. What a surprise it would be here. How have you been doing?” y/n thought back to the first time they had met and how he had looked so deeply saddened. As she looked him over, she thought he looked better. More relaxed. It made her glad. Aaron replied, “I’m doing better, I think. I’m trying.” Hotch could see that she was really looking at him. That she cared about what he was saying. After a beat, he asked, “How are you, y/n. How are things in your neighborhood? I might have asked Agent Jones about what was going on when I saw you at the bureau.”

y/n flushed when she heard that Aaron had checked in on her. She cleared her throat softly and said, “I’ve been alright. I’m kind of going through something, thus the therapy, but otherwise, I’m well. And it’s the same with the neighborhood. There are still people coming and going at all hours of the night. I just avoid any interaction with them as Agent Jones suggested.” Aaron nodded and said, “Good. If you ever feel unsafe please just leave. Come to the bureau again and Agent Jones can help you figure something out.” Hotch thought about how she was going through something, and he wanted to ask what it was. But he didn’t want to pry or bring up bad memories for y/n. y/n similarly wanted to ask Aaron about working in the FBI, but she didn’t know how much he could talk about his work given its sensitive nature. So they sat there in silence until y/n finally asked, “Aaron, would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” She sounded rather embarrassed as she asked. She smiled again, brightly as he said, “I’d like that, y/n.”

They had gone to coffee, and neither of them approached it like a date, but by the end of the two hours of just talking, it was clear to both of them that there was a connection between them. Then they had gone rock climbing at y/n favorite gym, and she had complained about how unfair it was that Aaron could get routes in so few moves due to his height. She also didn’t really believe that he hadn’t done a significant amount of bouldering before that night. When he teasingly said that he really didn’t practice beforehand, she could only assume that he was very athletic, and a man of many talents. Then they had gone to dinner. And y/n met Jack when they watched a kid's movie together. And the love bloomed between them. Aaron hadn’t told the team about them yet, but he was going to ask if y/n would like to join him at Rossi’s next party. It would be an easy way for her to meet the other important people in his life. But for now, they were cruising down the highway to get to a park a half hour out of town.

Aaron hoped it wouldn’t be too crowded. When y/n had said she was excited to see the eclipse, Aaron had suggested they go together with Jack and make a day of it. y/n had readily agreed. Aaron was keeping his eyes on the road and playing some soft jazz at a low level. y/n was half-turned in her seat talking to Jack about school and soccer. When they arrived at the small park, y/n and Aaron were relieved to see that there weren't many cars in the lot. y/n helped unbuckle Jack while Aaron carried the cooler from the back of the car. Aaron had brought some sodas for them to drink while they waited for the solar event. y/n had also packed them some sandwiches and chips to snack on for lunch.

The group found a clear spot on the grass. There were a few other families and a couple or two scattered around the field. Jack was restless and asked, “What’re we waiting for Daddy?” Aaron looked over to his son and said, “Well, in around an hour something is going to happen to the sun. It will get kind of dark. We even have some special glasses so we can look at it while it happens.” Jack seemed to understand a little and said, “What happens to the sun? Is it fast?” Aaron looked over to y/n. She knew more about this than him.

y/n beamed at Jack and moved to sit in front of him. She explained, “Well, you know the sun and moon right?” Jack nodded eagerly. y/n continued, stating, “Well there are some special times when the moon actually gets in front of the sun. It looks like a ring in the sky. It’s kind of like magic.” Jack’s eyes grew wide and he asked, “Why is it a ring?” y/n tried to think about how to best answer. After she found the words, she said, “The sun is a lot bigger than the moon, so when the moon is in front of the sun, you can still see some of it. Isn’t that cool?”

Aaron watched on with a smile at y/n’s enthusiasm and Jack’s attention. As much as his son seemed to want to see the eclipse, he was a six-year-old, and he got restless quickly. Aaron had brought a soccer ball in case this happened. The two played around the field while y/n watched on. She watched while she was lying on her stomach, head propped up in her hands. A gentle smile was on her face. She loved looking at Aaron like this. He was so good with Jack. After he had told her about Hailey’s death, she understood why he was so protective of his son. Why the love was compounded in him. The man had lost someone so painfully. When y/n thought about the hurt that he had endured, she still ached for him, even though he was happy and smiling now. She could never replace what Hailey had been to him, and they were too early in their relationship to think about marriage, but she was glad she could bring Aarons some comfort and joy.

As it got closer to the eclipse, y/n gave everyone their special glasses. They all looked up to the burning star in the sky that was slowly beginning to be covered by the moon. It wasn’t until about another fifteen minutes that the moon was almost entirely eclipsing the sun. And then it happened. The moon centered in front of the sun, and the star made a perfect bright ring in the sky. Aaron looked at the phenomenon for a moment longer before he turned his face to Jack and y/n. He slipped off his glasses and saw the awe on Jack’s face. His gaze then fell on y/n and he felt such a warmth looking at her that the sun being blocked out didn’t even make the world feel cold or darkened. Because when he looked at y/n it was like he was looking at his own personal star, and they were gravitationally pulled to each other. Aaron thought about how the moon had slotted perfectly in front of the sun, forming that ring in the sky. How he felt like his life was coming full circle. The last three years had held such change. There was the pain of losing Hailey and caring for Jack, and he didn’t know how he could go on. And then, like a shooting star y/n had crossed his sky, and he thought that he would never see her again. But he had, and now he had found happiness again. A lasting happiness that no cloud or moon could hide.

After the eclipse, they all had their lunches and then piled back into the car and drove home. Jack quickly fell asleep in the back seat, and y/n moved her hand to his thigh, resting it on the soft flesh. Back at his apartment, y/n moved Jack to his room and tucked him in while Aaron emptied the water and ice from the ice chest in the small front yard of his apartment. When he stepped back inside, he found y/n seated on the couch, and he moved to her. He sat near the edge of the couch and opened his arms for her.

y/n nestled into his arms and chest, and he snaked his arms around her back. One of his hands rested on her lower back and the other was softly stroking the area between her shoulder blades. y/n relaxed against him and hummed contentedly. Aaron quietly asked, “Is Jack still asleep?” He could feel her nod her head yes against his chest, and she replied, “Yes. He’s out like a light. I think this was a pretty exciting day for him.” Hotch moved his hands to her hips, and he set his head back a little to rest on the side of the couch. At this angle, he could see some of Jack's door and the hallway that led to his room. The feeling of y/n resting on him was never going to get old to him. It brought him such comfort. After a short silence, he asked, “Did you enjoy today? I know you were looking forward to it.” _y/n_ replied, “I really did. I love spending time with Jack, and you of course.” As she spoke, her hands made their way to his chest and then slowly down his stomach.

Aaron closed his eyes at the warmth that seeped through him. She continued talking, saying, “I think it’s so amazing that we live on this speck of dust in an infinite universe, and we get to get to see it working. I think that’s pretty special.” Hotch hummed his agreement. He loved it when she spoke like this. Honest and slightly rambling, but fully from the heart. When she had told him about the person who had left her bitter and emotionally broken, he could understand and empathize. But when she spoke like this, he knew that she was coming back to herself. That she was comfortable sharing her heart with him. y/n slipped her hand under his polo and he sucked in a breath. Her fingers gently moved over his abdomen. y/n used her middle finger to swirl the trail of hair that started at his belly button and grew lower down his navel.

Her touch wasn’t sexual, though it could be if they wanted it. But of course, they would never do that with Jack so close. The contact was just to let Aaron know that she was here. _y/n_ found her voice and said, “It was also beautiful. It’s unique. There’s nothing else like it in the universe, and I love it very, very much.” Hotch could sense that she was looking at him, and when he opened his eyes he felt his breath leave his body. She was watching over him with such care and affection, and he knew she wasn’t speaking about the eclipse anymore. As he shifted up to kiss her with a passion. He said, “I love you y/n. More than anything in the world.” They bridged the gap between them, and as their mouths met, it was like the sun kissing the moon, impossibly unlikely, but beautiful and rare as an eclipse.

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