#aaron hotch fanfiction
Send in some requests... because why not. It can be about anything with Aaron
Are You Going to Kiss Me or Not - Criminal Minds Reader Insert
Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader
Word count: 1660
Warnings: mild language, slightly steamy kiss scene
Reader is done waiting around for one Aaron Hotchner to decide whether or not he is interested.
A/N: This came to me one day on my way to work, after listening to the Thompson Square song “Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not”. Since this fic is inspired by the song, it will be related, in some ways, to the song’s lyrics. I admit, it did get away from me and I’m not entirely sure how much I like the middle part. I hope y’all enjoy it regardless! Next up is a POTO work, so stay tuned for that :)
The words start to blur across the page as you try to read the document, again, for the third time. And just like before, a couple of sentences in your attention wanders from the page to the large window of Aaron’s office. Your eyes immediately find him where he is hunched over his desk, his hand moving furiously as he burns through the stack of paperwork taking up his desktop. You were glad you were the last one in the bullpen and no one was there to witness your hopelessly longing stares you had been sending Aaron’s way.
“Screw it.” You murmur, pushing away from your desk before striding towards Aaron’s office. You knock hard twice and wait for him to call you in. Once he does, you push open the wooden door and take a few steps into the office. You watch as Aaron finishes scrawling out something on the paper in front of him before he lifts his head.
“Y/L/N?” He asks in surprise. “What are you still doing here?”
You shrug your shoulders, not really sure yourself why you had stayed hours after leaving time to ‘work’ on paperwork. Deep down though, you knew it was because you hadn’t wanted to leave Aaron to another long night of paperwork. “I could ask you the same thing.” You quip back, causing an almost unnoticeable lift in one of his eyebrows as he gives you a look.
The room is quiet for a moment, the two of you staring into each other’s eyes. You’re saying more with your eyes than you had ever said out loud to him, showing him how you truly felt. His brown eyes were filled with something akin to longing and you had to fight the urge to take his face in your hands and kiss him. You break eye contact as you make your way to one of the chairs in his office.
“I was thinking of calling it a night and thought maybe you might want to do the same.” You pause before quickly adding, “Or maybe you’d want to get a drink together.” You hope that despite the hour, he would feel as desperate to spend time with you as you were to spend time with him.
“I don’t think that is such a good idea.” He answers, his eyes only meeting yours briefly before he looks out the window overlooking the bullpen.
“Some other time then.” You say, feeling a rush of disappointment as he turned down your offer.
His eyes meet yours now as he says, “I don’t think that any time would be good.”
“Oh, well whenever you want to get a drink with a friend, just let me know.” You say, somewhat dejectedly, not sure why he was being so standoff-ish. “You’re a good friend.” You add quietly.
“I think you and I both know that that isn’t what this is.” He responds. “And I think that you and I also know that whatever this is, it can’t happen.” You open your mouth to argue otherwise, despite the fact that what he was saying was true, but he cuts you off.
“Good night Agent Y/L/N.” His voice has a biting edge to it as he returns to his paperwork, effectively ending the conversation. His apparent rejection has your heart seizing in your chest and your throat tightening against the rising sob in your chest. You turn and run out of his office, only stopping in the bullpen to grab your jacket and purse, not wanting Aaron to see you cry, especially when it was over him.
The drive home passes in a blur as you try to keep the falling tears from blocking your vision. You somehow make it back to your apartment without getting into an accident. You tiredly unlock your apartment, dropping your purse and jacket by the door before locking it back up. You don’t even have it in you to get ready for bed, instead opting to just take off your shoes and crawl into bed. You don’t get much sleep that night, the stress and anxiety of possibly having ruined your relationship with Aaron weighing down on you. When your alarm goes off the next morning, you know that there is no way you were going to be able to make it through work, let alone face Aaron after what happened last night. You send Penelope a quick text saying you weren’t feeling well and would be staying home.
Later that evening, after a day of feeling sorry for yourself, you are lying on the couch, listening to some random podcast that has been playing on the radio, when a knock sounds on your apartment door. You let out a heavy sigh as you get up, not really excited by the idea that someone was at your door at this time of night. You open the door, ready to tell off whoever it was, but all words leave your mouth when you see that one Aaron Hotchner was standing in your doorway.
His eyes meet yours briefly before they scan over your body, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He wordlessly steps past you to the inside of your apartment, his hand catching yours as he passes you, a finger straying to caress your wrist. You slowly close the door, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall and the emotions that were rising to the surface before turning your attention to him. You watch him, watching you, for a long time, taking in the smallest details of his appearance; his dark hair, slightly disheveled, his white dress shirt without his characteristic tie and the top few buttons undone, and a tired expression on his face.
You couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Aaron Hotchner, are you going to kiss me or not?” You burst out, hands on your hips as you focus your gaze on him. He didn’t say anything as he continues to stare at you, his dark brown eyes boring into yours. His silence infuriates you further and causes you to throw your hands up in the air in exasperation.
“Damnit Aaron.” It wasn’t often that you used solely his first name, only doing so when a situation caused you to be enraged or terrified, and you felt a little of both at the moment. You were so upset at his apparent disinterest in what you were saying, what you were asking of him. And you were terrified that it meant he didn’t feel the same for you.
“I like you a lot. In fact ... I might actually be in love with you.” It came spilling out, everything that you had been keeping to yourself for months and you couldn’t stop yourself once you’d started. “I’ve felt this way for a while, a long while. And I think you know, or at least a part of you does.” You pause, wondering if maybe you had been reading too much into the longing looks and the lingering ‘accidental’ touches, but you decide since you had gone this far, you wouldn’t back out now.
“Aaron, I’m not going to wait around forever for you to decide.” You soften your voice, pausing for a long moment to let what you said sink in, before you ask him again. “So, are you going to kiss me or not?” He is moving before you even finish talking, reaching you in only a matter of steps. His large, rough hands come to rest on either side of your face, cupping your face in a gentle manner that contrasted heavily to the urgency in his movements. He brings your face up to his, bending until he is able to reach your lips.
The kiss is soft, almost tentative, as if Aaron isn’t quite sure of what he was doing himself, as if he was going to pull away at any moment. You kiss him back fervently, worried that he was going to back away. You find yourself getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your face and his body brushing up against yours, the euphoria you feel over finally getting to kiss him flooding through your body.
You are the one to finally pull back, your need for air overcoming your want to kiss him. He rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as the two of you catch your breath. “That was...” You murmur, a languid smile growing on your face. You catch a glimpse of the mischievous spark in his eyes as he mumbles out an incoherent reply, right before he seizes your lips with his.
Where the first kiss had been safe and reserved, this one was passionate and frenzied. In the heat of the moment, Aaron backs you up against the wall of the living room in your apartment and his hands are everywhere; on your face, your hips, in your hair, sliding down your back. He breaks off the kiss before resting his forehead against yours.
“I’ve waited years to do that.” He whispers, his voice rough with need. “And it was better than I ever could have imagined.” His soft brown eyes, twinkling with emotion, meet yours.
“You better get used to it, Hotchner.” You say, a surge of confidence washing over you. “Because I’m definitely going to do that again.” You press a light kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his waist in a tight hug. His strong arms bring you infinitesimally closer, one of his hands coming to tuck your head in against his chest. “Good.” He murmurs his warm breath fanning across your neck. “I look forward to it.”
His words cause a smile to grow on your face as you relish in, finally, being able to feel his arms around you. You were certainly glad you finally decided to ask Aaron Hotchner if he was going to kiss you because it clearly paid off.
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In Another Life // Girl
Aaron Hotchner x y/n
I stopped by the OB on the way home to find out the sex of the baby. However, I went alone because Aaron does not want to know. But I’m so excited. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to keep this secret for the next four months.
When I get into the apartment, I throw my bags down on the couch then turn into the kitchen where Aaron is cooking dinner. He sees me for a split second then turns away. “Don’t even look at me, I don’t want any hint of the gender,” he says.
“Are you just going to avoid looking at me until I have the baby?” I ask as I sit at the counter.
He suddenly realizes how ridiculous he is being and looks at me with a smile. “I guess you have a good point,” he says then pulls a tray out of the oven.
“So what are we eating?” I ask.
“Cheesy chicken,” he says and slides the chicken onto plates.
“Is Jack here?” I ask and suddenly I hear footsteps down the hall getting closer toward me. Jack appears with a large smile.
“Y/N!” he shouts.
“C’mere sweet boy,” I say and hold out my arms. Jack wraps me in a hug and I kiss his head. “How was school?”
He shrugs. “Okay I guess,” he murmurs.
“Just okay?” I ask.
“We had a spelling test. It was hard,” Jack tells me.
“I’ve never been so good at spelling myself buddy,” I say as we move to the table. Aaron slides plates in front of each of us. “Thank you honey,” I say as Aaron sits down at the head of the table.
“It’s nice to make dinner for my two favorite people,” Aaron says as we start eating.
“It’s nice not just eating takeout,” I say then shove chicken in my mouth. Oh my gosh it is so good.
“How is the baby?” Jack asks. Aaron and I exchange glances then I turn to Jack. He is so excited that he asks about the baby nearly everyday at dinner.
“Good, I just went to the doctor and the baby is healthy,” I tell him. I know Aaron is going to kill me for this next part, but I have to say it. “And I know if you’re getting a brother or sister.”
Jack’s face lights up. “Tell me, tell me!” he begs.
“Now hang on,” Aaron says. “You can’t tell Jack and not tell me.”
“Oh, I can tell you whenever you want,” I says.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” Aaron says.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out out due to Aaron’s phone going off. “Hotchner,” Aaron says into the phone. I quickly eat a bunch of chicken because I know what’s coming next. “We’ll be right there,” he says then hangs up the phone. “We’re needed in California,” he says then pushes back from the table.
I notice the disappointment in Jack’s face once Aaron leaves. “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll finish eating with you,” I tell him although that doesn’t lighten his mood much.
I notice that Aaron has disappeared down the hall, and then I turn back to Jack. “Do you wanna know a secret?” I ask and Jack nods urgently. “Okay, you have to keep it between me and you. You can’t tell Dad, promise?”
“I promise,” he says.
“Okay, you are going to have a little sister,” I say and Jack’s mouth opens wide.
“Wow,” he says.
“Is that a happy wow or a sad wow?” I ask.
“Happy wow,” he says then continues eating. My heart warms that Jack is so excited and now is excited about having a sister.
“Remember, this is just between you and me,” I remind him.
“Got it,” he tells me.
Aaron comes back down the hallway in his suit. “I called Jess. She’s on her way,” he says.
“Okay, I’ll meet you there as soon as I can,” I say then he leans down to kiss me. “I love you,” I say.
“I love you too,” he tells me then kisses Jack’s head. “I love you buddy. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye Dad!” Jack shouts as Aaron walks out the door.
The case we’re currently working gives me creepy vibes, especially now that I’m pregnant. Nannies and the children they have been watching have been kidnapped on the same day for the last six years. Lately, any case with children just freaks me out.
I am currently talking with the parents of Phoebe Payton, the girl who was kidnapped. “But it’s been 24 hours, doesn’t the kidnapper usually return the child by then?” Mrs. Payton asks urgently.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we should assume anything. We are still focused on finding Phoebe,” I tell her.
“But she could be dead by now,” Mrs. Payton screeches.
“We’re hoping that she is not,” I say. “Ma’am, just take a few deep breaths and try to calm down.”
Mrs. Payton lets out a scream then bangs her fists on the table. “You don’t even know how hard this is. Do you even have kids?” she asks and I pause.
“Yes, I have a son,” I say.
“Okay, well imagine your son being taken and that your son has asthma and doesn’t have his inhaler,” she says.
“I imagine that would be very difficult,” I say quietly.
“I-I just need a moment alone please,” Mrs. Payton says.
“Of course,” I say then step out of the room.
I join the rest of my team in the conference room of the station. “Did you get anywhere with her?” Rossi asks.
“No, she’s obviously very distressed,” I say.
“Y/N,” Aaron calls from the other end of the room. I yawn as I walk over to him. “I think you should go to the hotel and get some rest.”
“No, I’m okay,” I tell him.
“Fine, I’m making you go to the hotel and rest,” he says. “I’ll be around to check on you in a while.”
“Fine,” I groan then kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
I went to the hotel, but I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking about the case and Phoebe. It was hard enough to talk to Mrs. Payton about her daughter being taken, I can’t imagine actually having your child taken. Shivers run down my spine. Just the thought of losing Jack scares the hell out of me.
The door to my hotel room opens to reveal Aaron. “What are you doing up?” he asks then sits on the side of the bed.
“I can’t sleep,” I say sheepishly. “I just keep thinking of Phoebe. Ever since I got pregnant all these kid cases hit me hard.”
Aaron sighs. “I know, they get me too.”
“I just can’t imagine if this happened to Jack or our baby girl,” I say. Despite my tone, a smile grows on Aaron’s face. “What?” I ask.
“Baby girl?” he asks. I suddenly realize what I have done and my hands cover my mouth.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” I say the take his hands.
“Baby girl,” Aaron repeats without making eye contact with me. My hands move to his cheeks.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“We’re having a baby girl,” he says quietly.
“Are you okay with that?” I ask carefully.
“O-Of course I am. I’m thrilled about it,” he says and I squeal with excitement.
“We’re having a girl!” I say then press my lips to his. Aaron’s expression suddenly changes.
“Now you really have to get some sleep. I don’t want my girls being up all night,” he warns me. My heart swells at his word choice of girls, plural.
“Fine,” I whisper. “I’ll try just for you.”
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pairing ╏ aaron hotchner x female!reader
word count ╏ 2.4k
summary ╏ a couple years have passed, and aaron and reader begin to question their status
warnings ╏ none (?) please tell me if i missed anything x
note ╏ guys. i haven't written fanfics for like three years!1!!1!1! so i apologize in advance for any mistakes and grammar errors! i do hope you enjoy though! and also for the sake of the fic, jack and haley don't exist sorry guys lol and the ending is kind of bonk bonk but leave a like, comment, or reblog if you want! <3
I couldn’t pick up the phone. I sat back on the chair in the apartment we bought a couple years ago. But it tasted bittersweet just thinking about it; something I was supposed to cherish but couldn’t. The two plates of food on the table were now dull. What was once smoking and bled with heat was now encrusted in a dry film; unappetizing.
The phone continued to ring. Once. Twice. A pause. Once. Twice. Three times. But after the eleventh call, I figured he stopped. Aaron had forgotten his key that morning. It's almost humorous how he could tell the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath in his sleep but forgot the simplest things like our house key. And our fifth anniversary.
Earlier today, I had asked Aaron to go home early. But even after five years of marriage, eight of living together, and ten of dating, he couldn’t seem to care less of my whereabouts lately. Distracted, distant, and rigid.
“Hotch,” I swung into his dimly lit office earlier that day, “I'm going to be headed home early tonight. I-“
“Alright, see you at home,” Aaron continued writing his paperwork and took half a second to glance up at me. It’s unclear if he meant to cut me off or not but it didn’t matter because it would’ve hurt either way. Distant, I thought. A quick look at his office and nothing would’ve seemed different but I thought I saw more clutter than usual.
“Okay, well... I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late!” I tried to look past it, for now. I blew a kiss his way and he looked up to smile at me briefly. The smile reached his eyes but I couldn't tell if it was genuine. His pen didn’t stop writing. Distracted, I thought. “Bye, I love you,” I breathed out and quickly shut the door, walking out to gather my stuff. I didn’t wait for his reply; unsure if he even had one. I wondered what he’d say. And if it’d hurt more than what his words didn’t say.
Looking at my watch on the way to my desk, it was half past four and it was clear to say that no one was done with paperwork yet.
“Where are you going?” Spencer questions, catching Emily’s attention. She looks up from her pile of work as well.
“Well, things to do and places to be,” I smiled at the two, putting my tablet into my bag. I grabbed my gun from my drawer and put it to my holster. Emily smiled knowingly. She knew it was me and Aaron’s fifth anniversary. Emily even helped pick out the perfect outfit for tonight’s homemade dinner. She also knew about Aaron’s behavior lately. We both thought of it and we discussed every scenario except the worst one yet. He wouldn’t do that to me, I would think to myself, not after what Haley did to him. It was the unspoken what if that I wasn't ready to swallow yet.
Emily and Spencer waved me goodbye and she wished me good luck, along with a smile that was poisoned in pity. I was almost entirely sure it wasn’t on purpose but I wasn’t sure of anything at that point. I walked out the door, into the elevator, and it felt so repetitive. The same elevator every day, the same building every day, living the same life every single day. I’d casually mention to Aaron how the repetition felt like a lot sometimes over paperwork in our office at home and he’d hum quietly. Maybe in agreement. We both loved our job. The same thing every time; but we were saving lives. Maybe it was the effect of his changed behavior. Maybe he felt it because he thought my behavior changed as well.
The same thing every time; coming home separately, even though we used to come back together. We were drifting and although it wasn’t the first time, we always resolved it. Things happen and we’d come out stronger and I had never had a doubt. Sometimes the job was hard and I was there for him, and he was there for me but it was different this time. He'd come home late and I'd be asleep by the time he got back. Then, I started to do paperwork at the local coffee shop and he’d be sitting in our office, waiting for me to get back.
No words would be exchanged once we were together for the night. Maybe a ‘hey’ or ‘how was your day?’ and then a simple ‘good.’ We’d both change our clothes and get into the bed. We were getting further and further away every night in bed. Too exhausted to think of words for this odd place we were in. Sometimes he'd hug me and take a deep breath and I'd release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Something was just not working this time. Trust your gut, Aaron used to say to me when I first joined the BAU. My gut told me that this couldn’t keep on going at the rate this seemed to be deteriorating.
All these moments led to right now. The phone rings beside me as Aaron waits outside in the drizzling rain at eight o’clock, without the key that he forgot this morning. I unlocked my phone to read the messages exchanged earlier tonight.
are you still at the office?
Yes, is there something going on?
you forgot, didn’t you?
aaron, it’s our anniversary?
I purse my lips and wonder if he still loves me. Of course, he does, my mind wanders, would he have been with you for ten years if he didn’t? I chuckle sadly. The food on the table now cold, the outfit Emily and I chose doesn’t seem so perfect anymore. The candles on the tables nearly half melted. The dining room looked eerie now, sitting by myself on a Thursday night with two uneaten plates of food with candles nearly burnt out.
That’s when I hear him knocking on the door gently.
“Y/N? Please let me in. I didn't forget, I just,” Aaron’s sigh is muffled by the door but I hear it clear as day when I get out of my seat and walk up to the door. I think he hears me walking to the front and continues. “I was distracted. Something isn’t right between us right now and we should talk about it. I’m sorry, Y/N, please let me in so we can talk.” I sigh in defeat and unlock the door, slowly. The door opens and his hair is flat from the rain, briefcase tucked under his arm with his phone in the other hand. But his posture isn’t as upright as it usually is – he probably knows he fucked up. I wonder if he’s been profiling me from my texts, or my current body language even though we promised we wouldn’t do that to each other.
He walks through the threshold of this house but his eyes don’t waver from mine as he sets his stuff down and puts his gun away in the drawer. A glimmer of his keys reflects the light in the drawer. It’s almost funny, how he remembers his gun but not his keys even though they were in the exact same place. It makes me wonder about the integrity of our situation and if he had left the keys on purpose.
I walk to the dining table with the food I made and turn away from Aaron. I’m not sure about what to say. I've obviously been avoiding this conversation for quite some time and even after all this procrastination; I still don’t even know what to say. I hear Aaron's footsteps from behind me and I wait to see if he has anything to say. After I'm sure that he doesn’t, I begin.
“Aaron,” I turn around to face him. I smile grimly, feeling tears prickle at the back of my eyes and it hurts to swallow, “What the hell happened to us?” Aaron stands there, arms crossed and a hand on his chin. Crossing arms suggests closing yourself off and is a gesture of defensiveness. “What happened to our Thursday night dates? Aaron- I don’t- I mean,” I struggle to complete a sentence when millions of thoughts are racing through my head, “I know you’re not happy. Sure, maybe everyone thinks that you don’t show a lot of emotion but I know you and you have a tell for specific things. When was the last time we really talked about how we felt about us? C’mon, Aaron, who are we bullshitting? We weren’t communicating and you know that it’s one of the most important parts of a healthy relationship.”
“Why are you using past tense?” Aaron asks and he’s doing the face he only gives to people he thinks are suspicious.
“What are you talking about? And why are you giving me that face?” I pause and Aaron tries to cut in but I get to it first. I make a face and pull my eyebrows together. “Are you profiling me right now?”
Aaron looks taken aback at my comment. “Are you?” Oh. When I don’t say anything he continues, “You’re using past tense when you mention our… marriage and relationship. If you have anything you want to say you should say it now. There really isn’t a better time,” His voice grows cold on me, the same way he does to unsubs we interrogate. I don’t think the ice in his tone is intentional but he probably can’t help it. He’s right though, should I confirm my suspicions? I don’t want to hear his answer to my question in fear that it might be the wrong one. But he is right, this conversation is long overdue.
“Are you cheating on me?” I breathe out at once. “Are you?” The tears are getting harder and harder to hold back and time seems to move slower by the second.
“Y/N, what? No, I'm not! Why would you think that? I could never do that to you. You know about Haley and how she cheated! And you think I'd do that to you?”
“You were just distant lately and-“
“Distant?” He pauses, I know he wouldn’t interrupt me if not necessary so I let him go on, “Y/N, so are you. I didn't think you were cheating. I thought you needed time and that I needed mine. I had thought about what you had said a couple weeks ago about how repetitive life felt.” I nodded at his words. “You’re not the only one who thinks that.” A pang of guilt radiates in my chest, because I think we both know how this was going to end.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay.” I walk a little closer to him and cradle his face in my hands. He rubs circles on my wrists, caressing me and I do the same to his face. Tears are spilling from my eyes, down my cheeks, “Aaron Hotchner, I love you more than anything in this whole entire fucking world. I know you love me and that I love you but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life and we both know what’s coming. It’s been unspoken for too long, I know that. But whatever happens, you have to know that I love you. We had our good days,” I look around to see picture frames on the walls of our relationship in earlier stages. Smiling, dancing, laughing. I remember each and every one of the pictures and thinking that this would be the man I would love for the rest of my days. “And we had bad days. There will never come a day that I forget all the wonderful things that we had. I’m using past tense now because I think-“
“I think you’re right,” Aaron quietly cuts me off. “We’re not the people we used to be. We’ve changed but we can’t grow like this. I love you too, more than words will ever be able to encompass but maybe we’re feeling stuck, not bored or repetitive.” I want to say something for the hell of being a couple for probably the last moments but I don’t want to stray far from the truth. Aaron’s eyebrows turn downwards a bit and his eyes are glimmering with tears. He envelopes my body in his and leaves a quiet kiss on my hairline.
I take a deep breath of air, trying to savor this moment for the rest of my life. My face is wet from tears and they won’t stop falling. I hiccup from the crying in his grasp so he plays with my hair fondly and almost inaudibly hums to me.
“Will we be okay? I mean,” A hiccup, or three. “I don’t want either of us to leave the BAU because of this but also will we be okay? In terms of feelings and… well, more feelings.”
“Of course,” Aaron begins. “I don’t love you any less but we both agree that things will be better this way. We just... go back to how it used to be before you asked me to a drink for the first time,” I can feel his small grin as he leans against my head. Being reminded of that day hurts now, but it has for a while anyway. I wonder if I hadn’t asked him to that drink one night after a local case, if we’d be where we are now. But I know everything here was nothing less than fate itself and that I probably shouldn’t dwell on what if’s.
And so after some moments of silence for something that would soon be gone, we stand underneath the dim lights of the dining room. Aaron holds me against his chest as we look at the candles on the table. They’re both burnt out. There’s no light there anymore. The candle has melted onto the chamberstick, leaving long trails of wax.
I hold him a little tighter and he does the same to me. I don’t know what the future holds but our two halves have drifted too far to come back together and that’s okay. I know things will be weird for a while but it’ll be okay.
“It’ll be okay,” I whisper under my breath. For the sake of us, we'd leave it here. Once upon a time, we were younger and more naive, better for each other then. But we're older now but we're stuck. Just two ghosts standing in the place of him and me.
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Hug #34 with Aaron 👀🍑😘
This one made me laugh, I don’t know why. But despite being so stoic, I can totally see Hotch doing this.
Warnings: A little suggestive but nothing explicit, making out.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Prompt 34: hugging while grabbing butt
FBI functions aren’t your favorite thing in the world, but you go because you love and support your husband. And Aaron is always thankful for your hand in his, and the way you have a knack for running interference, or stealing him away from politicians.
The one thing you do like about the functions are the drinks. It’s as though the bureau knows they only way they’re going to get people through the door is with quality booze. You typically indulge in two glasses of wine, but tonight you go for three. The speech of the night was over forty minutes long and a monotone voice. It’s enough to drive Aaron to order a second scotch.
So you suppose it’s entirely predictable that you end up in your current situation; making out in Aaron’s office like a couple of teenagers. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, and his arms are tight around your waist, while his mouth lavishes that one spot on your neck.
You giggle a little and say, “This is how you became a dad for the third time.”
You feel him grin against your skin, and his hands trail down your sides before they settle on your butt. You laugh when he squeezes once and asks, “Want to go for number four?”
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35 “cuddle pile” with Hotch and Jack and maybe a few other little munchkins Hotch and reader added to their family? 😊
Ummmmm little Hotchners? Sign me up!!!!!
Prompt 35: Cuddle pile!
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader
You’re completely immobilized. Your youngest child, who is two years old, is sprawled across your chest. Your second youngest has his head laid on your chest right next to the baby’s. Jack’s head is cushioned in your lap, and he’s fast asleep. And the cat, is curled up on your protruding belly.
You let out a small grunt as a new series of kicks start up. You smooth a hand over your belly, in an effort to get your daughter to stop, but she’s stubborn . . . .like her father.
You hear a throat clear, and turn your head to see your husband standing in the doorway of your bedroom. His go bag is in his hand, his jacket is thrown over his arm, and while he looks exhausted he also looks extremely happy to be home.
He gently places his bag and jacket to the side, before toeing off his shoes. He swoops down to kiss you, and move a strand of hair out of your face. In a whisper he asks, “What’s going on here?”
“There was a thunder storm last night. They all piled in here, and it became a partial family cuddle.”
Aaron raises an eyebrow, “Partial?”
“You weren’t here.”
He looks over the bed and asks, “You sure you have room?”
You gesture to your right side, where there’s still an empty space, “Always.”
The bed dips a second later, and he curls around you too, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You thread your fingers through his hair, and absentmindedly play with it until his breathing evens out and he joins the rest of your boys in sleep. Your daughter, like you, is still stubbornly awake and stretching. And while it may be uncomfortable, you wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.
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Can you please do prompt 10 with Hotch? <3
Why, I would be delighted!
Hotch X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of throwing up/ morning sickness
Prompt 10: hiding their face in the other’s neck
Morning sickness, to be quite honest, is a bitch. Mainly because the little human growing inside of you seems to cause it quite a bit. It should be called all day sickness.
“You think you’re done?”
You look up at Aaron, who’s sitting on the edge of the tub. He has a concerned and guilty look on his face. You scooch your body so that you can lean against his legs, and then tilt your head back, “I’m okay Aaron. I’ve done this before.”
You watch as he runs a hand through his hair, “Yes, but you’ve never gotten sick this much before either.”
His fingers play with the end of your hair for a second before he lifts himself off the tub and down. His legs settle on either side of your body, and you lean back against his chest as his arms wrap around you.
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, hiding away from the less than pleasant moments that just happened, and inhale. His aftershave is the one scent that doesn’t seem to make you ill. “You smell good.”
Your lips move against his skin with the words and they come out a little garbled but he seems to get it. “Thank you.”
His hand settles against your still flat belly, “Thank you for making me a daddy again.”
“You’re welcome.” Those words are all you can muster before you fall asleep in his arms.
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omg I'm SO happy requests are open again do you think you can do 24 from the hugs list with Hotch? I've been having a really horrible, exhausting week and your writing is really pushing me through the week aaahhhhh 😭 really in need of some comforting Hotch content now TT thank you so much 🥺❤️
AHHH then we need some fluff.
Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader
Prompt 24: hugging with height-difference
The entire week has been one disaster after the other. Work has been a nightmare and with Jack at summer camp and Aaron away on a case you’ve been all your own. And somehow, being alone, makes everything worse.
You trudge into the apartment, toes off your shoes, and throw your bag to the side. All you want is to slip into bed, and sleep this horrible week away.
That’s when you hear something, and you realize the alarm isn’t set. Before you have a chance to panic Aaron appears in the hallway. He’s still dressed in his clothes from work, but his tie and jacket are gone, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up. It’s one of your favorite looks on him, but right now you could not care less.
Before he can even say anything you throw yourself at him. His arms wrap around you automatically, and you’re pulled tight against his chest. He doesn’t say anything, he just lets you burrow in, as the fingers of his left hand tangle in your hair.
Aaron’s superior height means that your head is cuddled against his chest, and you place your ear over his heart. And the two of you just stay that way until the bad slowly begins to dissipate.
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For the hug prompts, 33 with Aaron Hotchner?💙💙
I started and stopped this one several times mainly because I had different ideas: Like reader finding out she’s pregnant, or reader coming home after a business trip. Finally I decided on some angst ;)
Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader
Prompt 33: ‘picking them up’ hugs
Warnings: Mentions of being shot, broken ribs.
Your entire body hurts. It’s a regrettable side effect of having been shot at close range, and the only reason it isn’t worse is because of the Kevlar protecting your most vital organs. And all you want to do is go back to the hotel, curl up in Aaron’s arms, and sleep until the pain goes away.
But the unsub, thrashing under you, as you try to cuff him, isn’t making that possible. You hear footsteps, and then there are more hands helping, and you feel someone lift you up from under your arms. You look up at Emily and give her a grateful smile.
“Three shots to the vest. Close range. I probably have a cracked rib. Other than that, I’m okay.”
She smiles, “Good. Can you go inform your man of that? Strauss held him back and he’s been pacing like a cornered lion ever since.”
You nod, and start walking that way. With every step a new blurb of pain shoots through you, and then you see him. He’s wearing his vest, and his arms are crossed as he paces.
You say his name, and his head whips around. He reaches you in a matter of seconds, sweeping you off your feet and up into his arms. Despite the fresh wave of pain it brings, you hug him back, your fingers tangling in his hair as he whispers, “I love you.” Again and again and again.
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My beginning my middle my end
Criminal minds; Aaron Hotchner x my still unnamed OC
Yes...this all from the same story, once I get something I run with it, why make them separate stories when I can combine them? (and probably cause some trauma along the way...)
Also bonus: I already loved the original, almost had a heart attack when I saw it in the episode, but I saw someone made an edited version (right, obviously) and now I don’t know which I prefer. Everyone deserves to see it so here you go. (Sorry I don’t know who did it, I found it on Pinterest)
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐍 - @𝐃3𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓
𝐌.𝐋. = Michael Langdon, 𝐃.𝐒. = Duncan Shepherd, 𝐂.𝐒. = criminal minds universe
𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 - 𝐌.𝐋. : when Y/N and Michael fell into the trap of sincere marriage , things become difficult , even with a child . Includes : SMUT , ANGST AND HEAVY THEMES ! ( + Dark!Michael )
𝐃𝐎 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 - 𝐃.𝐒. + 𝐌.𝐋. : where 3 of the most dangerous people in the world meet each other . Includes : SMUT , FLUFF AND HEAVY THEMES . ( Crimebosses!Duncan + Michael , Dark!Reader )
𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐃.𝐒. 𝐱 𝐂.𝐌. / crossover : the famous FBI team is forced to catch the new unstoppable serial killer . Includes: SMUT (?) , ANGST , FLUFF AND HEAVY THEMES .
𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 - 𝐌.𝐋. : the lovely story of the Antichrist and his partner , a dark demon , until the man decided to destroy what they have . Includes: SMUT , ANGST ( HELLA ) , HEAVY THEMES , PLOT TWIST ;)
- also requests are always opened , so feel free to send anything :) -
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Mean Old World
This is a mean old world to be alone
Without someone to call your own
A mean old world, to try and live in, all by yourself
Warnings: Car accident, mention of surgery, gun related death, canon-typical Criminal Minds stuff. (Cut early so the car accident is hidden from anyone who doesn't want it on their dash.)
Notes: It starts with a bang but it's mostly just minor injuries, angst and fluffy bittersweet stuff. ~2958 words
Flashing blue and red, pulsing in and out, the swirling scream of sirens. Aaron held tight to the door handle as they skidded down alleys and out into busy intersections, squeezing his eyes closed when he knew he should be keeping them open. Hazarding a glance at the detective behind the wheel, a young man with a square set jaw and angry eyes, he tried to breathe through the agony of not being in control. They were in pursuit of their unsub, heading for the highway at dangerous speeds, and on a good day he'd be the one behind the wheel but this was not a good day. This was a bad day, and it was getting worse by the second.
“They've got road blocks set up!” Aaron shouted, hoping the detective would slow his pace, ease up just a little though he knew in his heart, his thundering wild heart that he wouldn't have slowed down either. Not when they were so close. Sure, their job was to corral the unsub, box him in, but the detective clearly had vengeance and glory on his mind.
“We're almost on him!”
They were, he wasn't wrong, but it was all wrong anyway. Maybe the unsub saw the road blocks, maybe he just decided to give it up, no one would know because his brains were about to be splattered all over the interior of his vehicle in the middle of Main Street, and the police car in hot pursuit was going to be up close and personal with his car very quickly. So quickly that Aaron didn't have a chance to react, he tensed up and shouted at the detective to pull off, to stop, he was screaming but he knew there wasn't time to react. They watched in slow motion as the unsub's car spun on its axis, their nose clipped it gently at first and on the second spin the cars seemed to wrap around each other like the red and white swirls on a candy cane.
The scene flooded quickly with emergency vehicles, all three men involved in the collision requiring immediate medical attention though they would soon find that the unsub had put a bullet through his head and wouldn't be requiring nearly as much attention in the long run. Dave and Spencer were the first to arrive at the wreck, flashing their credentials at anyone in their way until they were up close, watching in a state of horror as Aaron was extracted from the vehicle unconscious. Alive, they assured him. His pulse was thready and weak but he was alive and he wasn't impacted directly so they appeared hopeful, at least Spencer thought so. Dave had other ideas as he jumped into the ambulance without being asked, insisting that while Aaron was unconscious his proxy had to be involved if at all possible. The EMTs hadn't dealt with FBI Agents before and didn't bother to question him, it sounded legitimate enough and they weren't about to stop performing life saving procedures on account of a man who jumped into an ambulance uninvited waving his credentials around like a man gone wild. Dave sat back, wringing his hands, desperately pleading with God and anyone else on another astral plane who might be listening to let Aaron be okay, to let his Aaron pull through because God he'd been here too many times and he held himself personally responsible for every single scar, every single ambulance ride. Aaron hadn't ever, not one time, blamed him for one – they were all on him, his actions, his responsibility, but Dave wouldn't ever forgive himself for any of them.
“He's stable,” one of the EMTs said to Dave, breaking him from his trance. “He'll have to undergo some tests at the hospital but right now, he's stable. That's something.” Dave nodded, as if he trusted anything they said. He'd been down this road too often with Aaron, he would present as stable one moment and then throw you into a tailspin the next by his sheer power of will or stubborn pride. Pick your poison, he loved them both equally.
As the doors swung wide open, Dave braced himself for the barricade, the nurses who would stop his approach, tell him he had to wait with everyone else while his closest friend was poked and prodded entirely against his will. He was pulled in the opposite direction of the stretcher, told he needed to sign papers and answer questions if he would just follow them, called sweetheart as nurses tugged at his elbows. The waiting room was packed but there were no familiar faces, they'd be on their way he was sure, no way they wouldn't come. And when they came they would be a force to be reckoned with, making their way through the automatic doors in an unbreakable pack like hounds of hell, sniffing out one of their own. There would be no stopping their approach, no way to deter them, and so he waited patiently for his reinforcements.
“Derek Morgan?” The nurse approached Dave, calling that name, as if he'd answer to it. As if it belonged to him. She tapped him on the shoulder and he swung around, narrowed his eyes and she said the name again, like she truly believed it was his.
“No...” he drug it out, like the letters just wouldn't get off of his tongue. Brow furrowed, he stared at her in confusion.
“Will Derek Morgan be coming?” she asked, peering at her paper curiously. Dave glanced at the doors, expecting them to barge in just then, like a scene from a movie. It didn't happen, but he knew it would be soon.
“Yes,” he replied with a nod, an understanding. “I'm David Rossi. Am I in there?”
“You're listed as a secondary, in case the primary is unable to present in person.”
“Gotcha,” his voice was dripping with sarcasm, he fought not to roll his eyes at her and the flippant way she spoke to him, as if she wasn't tearing his heart wide open and letting him bleed out right there. “He'll be here.”
He found himself hoping that Derek wouldn't show. He couldn't tell you why, really, he just hoped traffic or maybe engine trouble, something that would keep him away and Dave would be allowed back to see Aaron. He'd never been secondary, not once, not even when Aaron was married to Haley. He'd been top billing or not at all, and during those years he was racked with guilt at not being there, not being on that paper. He wondered if Gideon had taken his spot at first, was sure of it for a while but now, now he thought maybe Derek had always been there waiting in the wings. Silly thoughts of a desperate old man who couldn't stand the idea of losing his closest friend, he figured, but he couldn't shake them.
“Where is he?!” Derek shouted, stalking toward Dave like a lion on the hunt. “Rossi, where's Hotch?” His voice betrayed him, the terror scarcely cloaked by his gruff demeanor, as if he'd behave that way for just anyone. Dave pursed his lips and nodded his head, indicating for Derek to follow him toward the desk, intending to be present until he was told he couldn't any longer. He wouldn't give up without a fight.
“Apparently,” Dave began, his voice clipped as they walked. “You're his proxy now. They need to speak to you.” Derek felt his breath hitch in his chest, felt his lungs seize up and his eyes went wide and darkened by a few shades.
“No. No, what do you mean? You're his proxy,” he stammered, and Dave wasn't sure what to make of that response. He'd been a profiler long enough to know a genuine reaction when he saw one, and it didn't get more genuine than this. “You've always been his...you mean he's just been alone back there this whole time because of me? Dammit Aaron. Fuck.” He muttered the word a few more times as he sped up, making his way for the desk and Dave hung back with a sudden clarity, watched as Derek signed papers and asked with a genuine look of sadness and fear all the questions that a man in love might ask, and Dave understood it. He glanced at the team, the confused looks being shared between them, and he thought for a moment he might be able to do something for Aaron, to safeguard this thing that was about to be blown wide open by his error in judgment, by his own naive desire to show his love for another person in the best way he knew how. Aaron didn't slip up often, but when he did, it left wreckage of epic proportions in its wake.
“They're going to have Morgan go back with him, he was stable when we got here,” he announced, ushering the group toward a small bunch of seats together near a window. “Any word on when we can leave?”
“The jet is ready,” JJ offered, holding up her phone, its black screen glinting under the bright lights. “Just got a text from the pilot. Whenever Hotch is out of here...”
“Why don't the rest of you go back to the station and pack us up? That way we can get the hell out of here as soon as he's discharged,” Dave said, and he said it with such authority that the remaining team members were certain that Aaron was okay. He had to be, because Dave was planning their escape and they wouldn't leave without Aaron.
“Derek?” Aaron mumbled, eyes fluttering open and closed, eyelashes dancing on his cheeks like frantic broken butterfly wings. He winced at the bright light, squeezed his eyes shut tight but could feel Derek's warmth come up beside him, minty breath and soft hands. He pressed his cheek into Derek's hand, into the warmth. “What happened?”
“You were in an accident,” Derek replied, lips so close Aaron could feel the air move between them. “You're in the hospital. They're running tests now. Took a lot of pretty pictures. You know the drill. We're just waiting now.”
“Detective Ralley,” Aaron rasped, and Derek let his thumb trail down his cheekbone to his jaw, tracing the harsh lines and the soft curves, dancing nimbly over the swollen bruised places. His face was a mess, stitches above his eyebrow and along his jaw line, a deep red and angry purple bruise spreading down along his exposed collar bone where the seatbelt had snapped tight against his neck. They had him in a soft neck brace, it hid enough but he knew what he would find beneath it. His right arm was pinned to his chest in a sling, pillowy gauze covering much of his forearm.
“He's in surgery,” he replied. Aaron nodded, swallowing hard against the dry, thick feeling in his throat. With his new knowledge, he let his mind wander, assess what damage he thought he could feel but they'd pumped him full of enough medication that the world felt fuzzy and warm and he couldn't move. He floated there in barely reality beside very real Derek until the doctors came in with their big metal charts and he tried to focus though the odd throbbing in his head that wasn't exactly painful but he knew, somehow, that it should be.
“He's very lucky, Agent Morgan,” the doctor said softly, speaking around Aaron as if he weren't really there. In truth, he was in and out, there and gone. The list was rattled off, and Derek thought to himself that he'd heard worse, much worse, and when they told him they just needed to keep him for observation due to his concussion and then they could leave, he felt his lungs fill to capacity with air for the first time since he'd heard the metal smashing against metal. He'd only been moments behind, two blocks back, saw it happen through the shield of downtown traffic but didn't get through the barricades before the ambulance made off with his precious cargo.
“You hear that?” Derek asked, pulling his chair closer to Aaron now, watching the languid blinking and the soft, silly smile. “You're going to be okay. Some bumps and bruises, nothin' to worry about. Nothin' we can't manage.”
Aaron hummed his approval, attempting to nod his understanding as well but his neck was immobilized, he realized, and so he settled for just the hum. Derek noticed but didn't say a word.
“So what's the deal with me being your proxy? Rossi's out there ready to knock my block off. You coulda warned me.”
“Didn't...” Aaron started, swallowing hard against the grinding pain in his throat. “Didn't think it was a big deal.”
“Well, Rossi might have me sleepin' with the fishes if you don't fix this, man,” Derek said, but he kept his tone soft and sweet, he wasn't really upset. In fact, he understood that this was, in Aaron's emotionally stunted and distant way, a very very big gesture. It was Aaron saying I love you and my life is in your hands. It was bordering on a display of affection, a public one, and Derek wasn't sure Aaron really understood the gravity of the situation. He did, however, and he was going to eat it up as long as he could.
“My decision,” he rasped. “I'll handle it.”
While Aaron slept to the sounds of ESPN on the mounted television, a trick Derek had figured out a long time ago, he slipped out to the waiting area and found Dave sitting alone with his PDA. He glanced up as Derek approached and shut off the screen, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders.
"How is he?"
"Sleeping now. We'll be here another hour or two for observation, he's got a concussion they want to watch and a few other minor injuries they're treating. He's responsive and able to follow conversations so I guess they don't mind if he sleeps...I don't know. They said he was really lucky. Look, Rossi," he started but Dave shook his head. He'd had time to think, time to consider the implications of this information and the last thing he wanted was to take something good away from either of them.
"Not here, kid."
"Okay. But we need to talk, on the jet then. In the meantime, can you go clear out our hotel rooms? I'll get someone from the local field office to drive us to the air strip from here." He slipped Dave two key cards and with them a whole lot of trust, because they both knew one of those rooms would be pristine and the other would be filled with both his things and Aaron's.
On the jet, JJ and Spencer were already asleep while Alex and Dave visited over their second glass of scotch by the time Derek helped Aaron on unsteady legs, limping up the steps and through the door. Dave looked up first, caught sight of his bruised and patched up friend, and gestured toward the couch they'd already made up for him with blankets and pillows, attention Aaron would have loathed if he wasn't in tremendous pain and simultaneously very high on painkillers that only managed to help him disassociate from the pain. Aaron made eye contact with Dave, apologetic and soft, blinking a little slower than usual and Dave nodded, a small knowing smile turning up the corners of his lips. Aaron knew they'd have to talk later, he owed his friend an apology at the very least, but he was ready to sleep all the way from California to Virginia. He didn't have conversation in him. Derek helped settle him in, cover him up and he pressed a soft kiss to Aaron's temple, hardly caring who might have seen it. In his mind, the proxy change had been all the bright flashing lights anyone might need to know their secret and he was right. He sat beside Aaron, hand on his head, fingers dancing their way through his hair while the plane took off. Once Aaron was asleep, Derek moved and took a seat beside Blake, across the small table from Rossi who handed him a drink with a knowing and sad smile.
“I'm not upset,” he said softly, peering over at the prone form of his sleeping friend. “He's okay, that's all I care about.”
“I didn't know, Rossi,” Derek offered and Dave waved his hand in the air, trying to halt Derek's explanation. He didn't need it, he wasn't owed anything. His heartache wasn't Derek's fault. “Honest.”
“Doesn't matter. It was inevitable, and for what it's worth...I'm glad it's you.”
"Nah, don't lie to me, you don't trust me, you don't trust anyone...I get it," Derek sipped his scotch, winced at the burn as it moved through his throat, warming him from the inside out. "I would feel the same if I were you. I'm gonna ask him to change it back, though, it makes more sense for it to be you - I'm not in the field with him enough anymore. He was alone when you coulda been back there with him, man. Doesn't sit right with me."
"Kid, don't you dare," Rossi replied, settling back into his chair, glancing at Aaron. "You and I both know why he changed it. You deserve to be happy and if this was the way he chose to tell us, however asinine and misguided it may have been, so be it."
"I'll drink to that," Derek said, and Alex and Dave raised their glasses, took another sip, and prepared themselves for a long flight back home.
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Undercover - Chapter 24
"What do we have so far?", Aaron asked the team when we gathered together.
"Right now we know that he wants to get back at me for getting rid of his kid, he doesn't like Aaron for being with me. Mark's the both of us. I also don't think that he's going to kill Jack, he wants something that reminds him of me and Jack is the closest thing.
I think he's going to try and raise him as his own. He's young enough that he'd forget who we are." I motion between Aaron and I.
"Where would he take Jack", we all looked back at each other. "Mark's obsessed so he'd wanna take him somewhere with significance, so where would that be?"
"Our house? It's where I left him, he abused me... cut me. But last I checked there were people living there, he wouldn't have access." Garcia dipped her head to face her computer and began typing.
"The address?" Garcia asked me. "46 winter avenue."
"That address was occupied but two months ago the people that bought it vacated the property and never came back."
"Mark could've taken him there." Morgan stated and everyone was waiting for Hotch's okay to go to the address. He nodded off; Morgan and Emily left to scope it out.
"Garcia I know you've already checked but go over the feed again to see if you missed anything", Reid told Garcia.
When they left the rest of us stayed and went over any other information, Aaron was sitting with his head in his hands; he got a call. "Hello?", once I heard the voice on the other side I knew who it was. "Aaron do you have anything on our son?"
He let out a deep sigh, "Nothing yet but we're still working, we'll get him back", I heard her voice break and scoff. "You better hope, and you better be doing everything you can or I swear."
I get that Hayley's his mom but she seems a little distant. Jack has been gone for a few days now and she has only come in to check on the progress once since then. Usually parents try to stay as close as they can to the investigation and for the most part never leave the station.
Instead Hayley's calling; every time she does her behavior doesn't sound genuine.
Now that could be because I can't actually profile as she's over the phone but still. I can't shake the feeling that she knows more than she's letting on.
"I know it doesn't make sense but bare with me, I think Hayley's in on it. It was something about her voice when she was talking with Hotch, she didn't sound genuine." Rossi spoke up, "When she found out about Jack's disappearance that reaction was genuine from what I could tell."
"Maybe but when she stood up she said something that make me suspect her, 'This is your fault, you and your fucking ex husband.' I've never told her about him... ever."
"I don't know about that y/n", Aaron said to me. Reid stood up and was walking around the room trying to think, "Actually y/n has a point, think about it Hayley loves Jack and she'd try and do anything to keep him safe. If Hayley thinks y/n is a threat to Jack then it makes sense."
"Add that with me taking over the mother role in his life come on Aaron."
"Ok but before we do anything I wanna be sure, Rossi and Reid follow her and if she goes anywhere near that house- take her in." They walk out the room after getting Hayley's location from Garcia.
"Sir- the videos on a loop", Aarons eyes shot up at hers. "What do you mean?", Pan turned the computer towards us and showed us.
"It's a loop for a few hours, he's doing the same thing everyday. You see that glitch right... there." We both nodded. "That's the end of the loop and it restarted, I don't know how I didn't see it before."
I was lost in my mind, the video was a loop, it was a way of distracting us. We thought he was safe, that we had time to save him. He could be dead; we didn't know where he really was. But then again Mark wouldn't do that to a child, maybe the video loop was a way to fuck with us... I don't know.
"Come on", Aaron tugged on my arm and I followed him. "What is it?" we walked into the elevator going to the bottom floor. "I just wanna get away from that, they're doing everything they can, we were just sitting there."
We went outside, it was a little chilly. Aaron wrapped his arm with mine keeping me close to him. Going down the sidewalk; further and further away from the office. We ended up in a more secluded area.
"I wanted to wait to do this honestly, but seeing as somehow our lives are just falling apart around us things just keep going wrong... I- want to have a grip on something in my life. Something that I can control and nothing can touch." He stopped walking and I turned around to face him.
"I had a whole plan, a surprise one that I know you would've loved but- I needed Jack for that." He dropped his head and steadied himself and gazed back at me. "I love you and that's why I want to take the opportunity now... while I still have you."
Aaron reached out and held my hips bringing me closer to him. I cupped his cheek and kissed him deeply. My hand in his hair, pulling him closer. He pressed his forehead to mine and exhaled.
I looked at him in his eyes as he stared at me, "Will you marry me." I was taken back but internally I was ecstatic. No words were needed as I jumped into his arms, the first time either of us were happy since Jack was taken.
He held me up gripping my thighs, my arms went around his neck. I kissed his passionately and lovingly. He raised his eyebrows as if he was asking 'is that a yes?' I nodded and he pulled me into another kiss. We stayed there for a few minutes enjoying the moment till reality set in.
He put me down and we were holding hands, smiling the whole way back. We were gone for an hour never answering our phones.
We got back to the office walking through the bullpen to find Garcia pacing the round table room. Before we walked in she could be head throughout the bullpen, "Where the hell aren't they answ- guys get in here." Pen saw us through the window.
Aaron and I walked into the room, "Hayley's there."
"Like, there? At the address?" Garcia nodded and Aaron and I sprinted towards the elevator going straight for the parking lot.
The drive took forever even though it seemed that Aaron was speeding through the streets. We parked a few blocks away, I called Morgan and Emily. They were in front of the building they moved after Hayley went inside.
We approached them, "All of them are in there." I called back up and the cops surrounded the building and covered the rooftop with some snipers. Rossi and Reid moved to the back entrance with some of the officers covering behind them.
"We have eyes", one of the snipers said through the mic. they had eyes all of them further confirming they were inside.
Aaron stepped inside first, me behind him with Morgan and Emily trailing behind. I went ahead because Mark needed to see me first, I didn't want him to feel intimidated. I approached the door when everyone was ready.
I saw Mark at the table with Jack across from him; Hayley was in the kitchen. When Mark saw me, the vest, and the gun he moved with speed and grabbed Jack. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at his chest; while my sights were trained on Mark.
Hayley reacted just as fast seeing him with a gun at Jack she aimed at Mark. Aaron came in behind me and aimed at Hayley. Rossi, Reid, Morgan, and Emily all were split between the two. All Aaron could think about was why Hayley helped, though we knew why; he wanted to hear the words come from her.
"Why?" Aaron was talking directly to Hayley. She napped he head to the side looking at him then quickly back at Mark, "Because he had our son, y/n wanted to take him from me and this was my way of being close to him... he's all I've got left." A tear fell from Hayley's eyes dripping onto the floor.
"Mark you don't wanna do this." He glanced at me but kept looking around at the people around him. "I have too, you left me okay. I fucked up, I know that."
"But why take his son?" He answered back quickly. "Because you took mine from me, our child."
"I don't even know if it was yours." He looked right at me and his eyes were brimming, "Are you telling you don't remember... after all the pain you caused. Do you not think about it? I sure as hell do; they way you took him."
I knew what he was talking about, I had forgotten about it... one of my most painful memories. It used to haunt me even though it wasn't my fault. Something that sadly naturally happens. Is this why he started changing? All the abuse- Mark blamed me for it.
"It's been a while." Mark took notice of the change in behavior towards Aaron and he cocked his head to the side, "You haven't told him have you?" I shook my head.
"Tell him", Aaron glanced at me but never tearing his focus from Hayley. I really didn't want to but he had a gun to Jack. Everyone around me, the officers and the team all witnessing what's unfolding before them.
"I was- uh pregnant before... with him. I had a miscarriage within the weeks of finding out we were having a child. Do you blame me?" This time I was talking to Mark staring him down.
"How can I not, what's that now... two children you've taken. I’m about to take one from you."
Everything felt like it was in slow motion as Mark raised the gun to Jack's head. Hayley shot Mark in the abdomen while Aaron shot Hayley in the head; she collapsed to the floor.
Mark's gun went off hitting the floor almost hitting Jack.
When his body hit the floor I holstered my gun and ran over to Jack, picking him up in my arms. I watched the life drain from Mark's eyes; the paramedics not getting there in time. As for Hayley she was dead before she hit the floor, the blood running from the hole in her head pooling around her.
I covered Jacks eyes and walked out of the room. Taking him outside to the ambulance that just arrived. I sat with him as they made sure he was ok. I was in shock; blanking from what just occurred. Mark was dead... Hayley was dead.
The paramedic was done with Jack and he had crawled onto my lap, clinging onto me. I held him close not wanting to let me go. I thought if I did I'd lose him again. I watched Aaron walk outside and lean against the building, he was shedding tears for his son's mom.
I stood up with Jack and made my way over, when he saw me coming closer he was quick to dry up his face. Jack pulled his head from off my shoulder and he leaped into his dad's arms. Aaron relaxed as soon as he was holding him.
I visibly saw the weight being lifted off his shoulders. "You want to go home?", Jack nodded excitedly ready to sleep in his own bed. We finished at the scene and headed home, I put the key in the lock of the front door and Jack ran to his room. I called out, "Jack you're going to need a shower."
I heard a faint okay and he shuffled into the bathroom. I went into the bedroom going into the closet. I pulled Aarons shirt over me and I felt arms wrap around me. I put my hand on one of his and leaned my head back, "You okay?"
I felt him nod. I knew he wasn't; he just killed his ex wife, Jack's mom is dead. I don't even know if Jack can comprehend what happened earlier, he's only 5.
Holding onto his hand I brought him into the kitchen, "Cooking always makes you batter." He shrugged and shook his head. "Come on, I'll help. What do you want to make?", he never answered just pulling out ingredients; I figured it out quickly.
I tried to lighten the mood, so I turned on some music. We were waiting for the food the cook and I grabbed his hand and turned him to face me. His hand automatically met my waist knowing what to do.
I tried my best to reach over his head and twirled him which just resulted in him teasing me.
"Here I'll make it easier for you", he said while giggling and crouching down to my height. I wasn't short but he was so goddamn tall. "Heyy", I playfully hit his arm. Jack ran into the kitchen and saw us dancing.
I broke away from Aaron and held my hand out for Jack. He took it and we were dancing to the music blasting in the living room. I picked him up by his arms and twirled in a circle. The smile on his face brought me so much happiness. I thought that earlier we could've lost him.
While Aaron finished the dinner he glanced at us, he was still upset but seeing that it didn't seem to affect Jack made it easier. He set up the table; Jack and I rushed to the table, slightly out of breath. "When do I get to see mommy?", that's what both of us were afraid of. We were thankful he didn't comprehend what occurred but also now we have to explain to him that his mom is gone.
Eventually we'd have to tell him what actually happened; he should know and that's definitely not going to be a fun conversation. I turned to face him, "Buddy your mom is going to be gone for a while okay." He looked at Aaron with confusion written on his face.
"So when is she coming back?", Aaron visibly tensed.
"She's not going to, your mom wants to but she can't." He let out a quiet ok and started to eat. I looked back at Aaron and the room filled with silence. The only thing said during dinner was Jack asking when he can go back to school and see his friends.
We finished eating and I was cleaning the table while Aaron put Jack to bed. Instead of just cleaning the table I ended up washing the dishes, counter, and sweeping. I cleaned when I'm anxious which wasn't so bad because who wouldn't want to have a clean house.
I'd finish tomorrow, it was too late to actually get everything I wanted down. But it was a decent surprise for Aaron after he put Jack down. "Did you clean?", I looked up from dusting the shelves.
"Maybe...", He smirked and walked over to me wrapping his arms around me. He pressed a gentle kiss to my temple, "Thank you... not just for this." He gestured to the house and he continued, "But also telling Jack about Hayley; I couldn't bring myself to do it."
I placed my hands on his, "You're welcome." He took my hand in his, turned off all the lights, and we headed towards the bedroom. Aaron pulled his shirt over his head exposing his toned body. I caught myself staring and I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.
When I walked back into the room Aaron had thrown off his pants and was under the covers. I crawled into bed and Aaron pulled me to him. His chest pressing against my back. His head resting just behind mine; I could feel his breath on my neck.
It sent chills down my spine. He mumbled a goodnight, I hummed in response.
@marie1115 @appleblossoms-posts @wanniiieeee @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @mac99martin @oreogutz @errorcosplay67 @aberrant-annie
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DIWK - Chapter five: "For a genius, that's just dumb"
My gif ✨
Words count: 14,7K
Warnings: Drug use, Spencer at his worst. Cursing, angst, CM usual content. Spoilers of Season 2 Episodes 16, 17, and 18.
Summary: Spencer is being a jerk with everybody at the BAU, and reader is having trouble dealing with his obvious problem. A case in New Orleans will bring the team to the edge.
A/N: I'm sorry! bear with this angst for another week, things will get a little better soon, I promise!
Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four
───※ ·❆· ※───
(Y/N)'s point of view
Reid took two weeks off after his abduction. Hotch forced him, and it was clear he needed it. Meanwhile, in the BAU, things were a little tense between me and JJ. I knew I hadn't been as professional as I should have been during the investigation, and I was expecting the repercussions.
That's why after the morning briefing, I asked Hotch if we could talk.
- "Listen, Hotch, I'm sorry I yelled when we were at the cabin,"- I started and kept my eyes on his, just to prove to him how sorry I was and how honest I was being.
- "(Y/L/N), there's..."
- "No, Hotch, I was out of place, I yelled at you, I yelled at JJ, I cried and..."
- "And yet, you did an amazing job finding Reid,"- he said and stood up. He walked from his desk and stood in front of me.
- "I am not expecting you to be perfect the whole time, (Y/N). I just want you to give us your best."
- "But I let the case affect me. I shouldn't let the case affect me."
- "(Y/N), it was Reid. From the second we found out he was missing, we all knew it was going to be a hard case for the team, especially for you."
I smiled at my unit chief, and somehow, he smiled too. Spencer always said he smiled with me a lot, but I never thought it was "a lot." Well, considering he never did, maybe the few times he did smile were a lot for him.
- "(Y/N)"- he said before I opened the door-" You should consider talking with JJ too"- I nodded and walked away.
I knew I had to, but I didn't want to. It was embarrassing to ask for an apology. After all, I yelled at her. But JJ was my friend, and she had been through hell. She deserved an apology.
I walked to her office and knocked on the door. She looked from the files she was reading and almost jumped.
- "Hey,"- I whispered and showed her a cup- "I made you an apology coffee for yelling at you."
The only way I knew how to deal with awkward circumstances was by trying to make a joke of it. That's my coping mechanism.
- "You don't need to apologize, (Y/N),"- she said as I walked over and gave her her coffee.
- "I do actually, 'cos I really feel like shit. I shouldn't have yelled at you or blamed it on you. I was too nervous and too scared, and I need to..."
- "(Y/N), really"- she interrupted me and smiled- "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, you were just nervous for him. We all were... and now he is back, and everything is ok."
I looked at her and tried to read her. I don't know why I felt she was hiding something from me.
- "I was out of place, JJ. No matter how worried I was, I should have never yelled at you, and I'm sorry."- she smiled and stood up. I wrapped my arms around her and whispered "Sorry" again.
- "It's ok (Y/N). I know you were just desperate to find him."
- "Thank you... but next time I'm out of place, you can just yell at me back or something"- she chuckled and shook her head.
- "You weren't out of place. You are always going to protect Spence."
- "Yes, I will, always, no matter what"- she just stared, and I smiled at her.
I didn't overthink her words until years had passed. I knew no matter what, I would always do my best to protect Spencer. I knew he was my best friend, and I would do no matter what to have him in my life. There was something about him and how he made me feel when we were together, which I found extremely addictive. I was the happiest when I was with him, even when we were working, catching serial killers, surrounded by death.
- "Hello honey bunny, it's me again. I'm almost done with my paperwork, so please put on some pants 'cos I've got some amazing chicken tandoori for dinner today."
It was Wednesday. I left Reid yet another voice message 'cos he hadn't picked up the phone for me that day. And though I was worried he wasn't answering my calls, a part of me thought it was completely natural. He had to be sleeping. After all, he had been kidnapped and tortured.
I had been taking him dinner every day of his leave. I wanted to make sure he was eating, and I wanted to put an eye on him, see if he was in a good mood. If he needed to talk. If he felt ok. If he was a functional human being. I worried about him all day long. I was glad those days we were working locally, and no case took us from the city.
I knocked on his door later that night, and it took him at least five minutes to answer. He was in his pajamas, dark rings under his eyes, and his hair was a mess.
- "Sorry, were you still sleeping?"- I whispered and cut him a tiny guilty smile- "I called you earlier..."
- "Hey... yeah..."- he yawned and opened the door- "Sorry, I've been..."- but he didn't continue talking.
I walked into his kitchen and left the take-out bags on the counter. Everything was exactly like I had left the day before when I had brought him dinner and something to eat for breakfast and lunch.
- "Spencer? did you eat today?"- I asked, but he didn't reply- "Honey?"
I walked back to the living room and found him lying on the couch, nearly falling asleep again.
- "Spencer? are you ok?"
- "Yeah, I'm just... you know, I feel like I haven't slept in years... I'm so tired, and when I close my eyes, all I can see is Tobias's face torturing me..."
I sat on the floor next to him and ran my fingers through his hair. Finally, he opened his eyes and just looked at me.
- "You are home now, you are safe"- my voice was a whisper. I was afraid I could scare him. Spencer looked so helpless lying there, still scared.
- "I tell you what, let's eat, and then you can go to bed, I'll go home, and I'll let you sleep until tomorrow, ok?"- he just nodded but didn't move.
- "What's for dinner?"
- "Your favorite."
When I left that night, I had the feeling there was something Spencer wasn't telling me. I had never seen him like that. But at the same time, I could really understand he was feeling like shit. He had been through an awful situation. So, of course, he was going to feel like shit.
I did the same every night the two weeks Reid was on leave. And I found a different Spencer each night. Sometimes he was sleepy. Sometimes he was happy, chatty. And the last day, he was moody. You don't know Spencer until you've seen him mad. He has a whole different personality hidden, and it only comes out when he is angry.
- "I can take care of myself, you know,"- he said as soon as he opened the door. So I just stood there, confused, trying to understand what I had done wrong.
- "Hello to you too"- Spencer didn't reply. Instead, he just walked back to his couch and grabbed the book he was reading.
- "I'm not hungry."
- "Fine, you don't have to eat right now. I'll just leave this here until you feel like tasting this amazing pad thai."
I looked around the kitchen. Just like every day, everything was exactly like I had left it the night before. I was sure Spencer wasn't eating anything the whole time he was alone.
- "I brought one for myself. You don't mind if I eat? I'm starving."
- "Do whatever you want,"- he mumbled and continued reading.
Until that day, Spencer had never talked to me like that. It was shocking. I didn't know what to do, a part of me wanted to storm out, and the other just wanted to wait for him to apologize. So I sat at the table with my pad thai, a book and just ate in silence. Alone.
Spencer didn't say a word for at least half an hour.
- "Ok, I'll leave then,"- I whispered after cleaning my dishes- "See you tomorrow at work."
- "Yeah, tomorrow"- he simply replied and didn't even take his eyes from the book.
- "Hopefully, tomorrow, you won't be a dick."
Spencer's point of view
After two weeks at home, I was out of Dilaudid. That Sunday, I started stressing out as soon as I finished the last bottle. I could feel the anxiety growing inside of me, even when I was still pretty high. I wasn't going to get another dose until the next day. I had to get a prescription or a dealer.
I wasn't really thinking straight about it at that point. I didn't consider myself an addict. I had been using it for just a week or so. I could leave it whenever I wanted to. Just that I didn't want to leave it, 'cos I felt I needed a little support to deal with everything going on.
It was so annoying having (Y/N) over that day. I just wanted her to leave. I hated how much she cared about me 'cos I knew it was over pity, not love. She felt pity that I was a useless kid who couldn't even cook for himself. But that useless kid was going to get himself his own dose of Dilaudid, no matter what.
After so many years at the FBI, it wasn't so hard to find a dealer. You knew the streets. You just had to go there and find one who could get you what you wanted. And surprisingly, Dilaudid was more popular than I imagined.
I waited a few minutes after (Y/N) left, grabbed my jacket, and got out there to find my next dose of joy. I didn't feel bad or guilty. Everybody has a thing, I guess. And it wasn't like it ruled my life. I just needed it for a few more days until I felt better.
I carried my gun but left my batch back home. I took my car and drove to the neighborhood I knew was the easiest to find a dealer. I waited for a while, parked around the close to a local bar until I found what I was looking for.
Somehow, I didn't find it hard walking over and getting my drug. I wasn't embarrassed or scared. Or even nervous. All I wanted to do was hold that bottle in my hands as quickly as possible, go back home, and put the needle in my vein. As simple as that.
I'm guessing that's what being an addict is all about.
- "You are here!!"- Garcia yelled as soon as I reached my desk. She was waiting with Morgan and ran to hug me.
I didn't really want a hug that minute but accepted it 'cos she looked excited, and I didn't want to break her heart. I was still a little high from the night before, so I was feeling pretty good. I could handle some physical contact.
- "We missed you so much! I baked you cookies!"
- "Hey, pretty boy! how are you feeling?"
- "I'm ok, how have you been?"- I left my bag on the chair and waved at Morgan.
- "We are all good, ready to go back to the game?"- I knew I wasn't, but of course, I lied.
I took a look around the bullpen. (Y/N) and Prentiss were at the kitchenette making coffee. I had the feeling I had been a little bit of an asshole the day before with my best friend, but I wasn't sure if it had been just in my mind or if I had said something nasty to her. So, after a few minutes of hesitation, I grabbed the cookie box and walked over.
She was alone. Emily was laughing at something Derek had said. He was flirting, and I'm not sure she knew. (Y/N) looked at me and crossed her arms on her chest. Not a good sign.
- "I'm... sorry?"- I whispered and looked at her
- "I was grumpy yesterday, and I might have said something I didn't mean... and I'm sorry,"- I stuttered, like the nerd I have always been, and opened the box of cookies, offering her one.
- "Garcia made you those," - she said and sipped her coffee.
- "But I wanna share them with you"- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and looked into my eyes.
- "Are you ok?"
Such a simple question. Such a hard answer.
- "Yeah, I'm ok... But, I'm still having some trouble sleeping... nightmares"- that was true.
- "And how was the pad thai?"- I didn't even eat it.
- "It was good, I liked it"- she nodded and sighed- "(Y/N), I am honestly sorry I was an asshole with you."
- "It's ok, honey"- her words were a sweet whisper that made me chill- "Just don't do it again"- I shook my head and kept my eyes on her.
- "Welcome back, Reid,"- Hotch said and tapped on my back- "We need you in the conference room in five minutes."
And just like that, I was back to work.
During the morning briefing, I could hear JJ and Hotch talking about the case we had that week in Westchester county. There were suspicions of hate crimes, 'cos all the girls were afro American. But I couldn't really concentrate, though I looked at the pictures and did my best to stay focused. I ate a few cookies. Bit my nails. Sipped my coffee. But all I could see was Tobias dead on each picture of the case.
And suddenly, I started craving that needle in my vein. Just a little to go through the day.
I found it hard staying still, so I ate another cookie, sat straight on my chair, scratched my arm, and rubbed my hands against my face. I knew I was moving too much, but I couldn't really stop. Did I have time for a little fix before we head off to New York?
An SSA getting high in the FBI bathroom. That was all I could think of. Was that what I wanted to turn into?
I felt (Y/N)'s eyes on me and turned to her for a second. I remember holding my breath as I stared at her. Her brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail that day. She wasn't a fan of that hairstyle but wore it when she felt she needed to look more professional. I remember telling her I like her hair loose the most, and she told me she likes my hair when it was longer. I stopped cutting my hair that day.
She just looked at me, her eyes into mine. I was trying to read her, and all I could see was that she was doing the same.
- "Wheels up in twenty,"- Hotch finally said, and everybody stood up. (Y/N) grabbed her things and walked back to her desk. She was still mad at me, clearly. Maybe I had been worse than I remembered.
- "Hey, so..."- I stood next to her desk and smiled awkwardly while she grabbed her go-bag and turned to me.
- "I thought this weekend we could go to... go to the new bookstore you, you, you told me about."
I started stuttering as soon as she looked at me. And she didn't reply, so I just continued talking.
- "And maybe I can buy you lunch or dinner, or both"- I smiled awkwardly, but she didn't even move a muscle.
- "I owe you. You fed me for two weeks."
- "And you barely ate what I brought over"- I frowned, feeling a little busted- "Spencer, I'm worried about you"- she was standing so close to me, I could smell her shampoo.
- "Don't be,"- I whispered and looked down at my shoes- "I'm ok now."
- "Are you?"- I nodded and felt her hands rubbing my arms sweetly and carefully. I couldn't help it and raised my eyes to meet hers. My heart skipped a beat as she looked at me so worried, I felt guilty.
- "I've been better, but I promise, if anything horrible happens, you'll be the first to know,"- I whispered and looked at her. I was full of shit.
- "Swear?"- (Y/N) asked softly, and I nodded immediately.
- "I swear."
No, I wasn't ok, of course, and I'm sure it was clear for anyone to see in the days to follow, 'cos suddenly everybody was treating me like I was broken. Sure, I was. But I didn't want to be treated like such.
(Y/N) sat next to me in the jet. That made me feel better. We went through the case files and analyzed the threat note one of the victims had received. Putting my head on the work always makes me feel better. My job and books are my security blanket.
- "We see Ken with you, and it makes us sick. Take care to stop this now, or you will pay. If you tell anyone about this, you will pay,"- I read out loud and frowned.
- "Strange, it doesn't seem real,"- (Y/N) said as soon as I was done.- "First of all, the use of "we" in a threat this direct it's almost always bogus."
- "One individual trying to diffuse responsibility,"- Emily added, nodding.
- "Also, the message itself seems contradictory. On the one hand, "take care to stop this now, or you will pay." Presumably, they want them to stop seeing each other. But then, on the other hand, they don't want them to go public with it."
(Y/N) finished talking, and I smiled, looking at her. The whole team was nodding at her words. Gideon had to know by then she was brilliant. 'Cos she was, and I wanted him to acknowledge it. I didn't want them to hate each other.
- "The point of hate crimes is to increase publicity, not decrease it. It's like terrorism,"- Hotch added.
- "An effective threat lets everybody know that they are in danger if they do this behavior. The author would want Sandra to tell people about the note"- (Y/N) continued explaining. I just closed the file and looked at her. She was saying everything I wanted to say.
- "Doesn't sound like a guy who's actually prepared to kill,"- JJ said.
- "Actually, it doesn't sound like a guy at all"- (Y/N) looked at her and explained- "Take care to stop this" implies empathy. I mean, "Take care," males don't use this type of language"- she sighed and looked at the team.
- "At least not when they are trying to threaten somebody. This message was clearly written by a female, and based on the lack of psychological sophistication, I'd say it's most likely an adolescent."
- "You think a girl killed these kids?"- JJ asked her in shock, clearly doubting everything (Y/N) had just said.
- "I think a girl wrote this note,"- my best friend simply replied.
- "Let's call that mystery number one,"- Gideon said. Morgan looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
- "You are awfully quiet, pretty boy"- and I simply shrugged.
- "(Y/N) said everything I was thinking. She is right, a girl wrote this note, and it doesn't mean it's the same person who committed those crimes."
(Y/N)'s point of view
It was clear there was something wrong with Reid. But after that morning, I decided I wouldn't ask anymore. I was just going to see. See if I could crack his mind and find out what it was. It wasn't the trauma or the clear PTSD. There was something there. Something that made him paler, the ring under his eyes darker. He kept fidgeting the whole time, scratching his arms. He would sometimes disappear, holding his satchel as if his life depended on it.
There was something wrong with Spencer. And by the look in his eyes, Gideon knew it too.
The next couple of weeks, I didn't know which Spencer I would find each time I talked to him. He was grumpier each day. He would work as good and as fast as always, but his humor was a mess. You could tell he wasn't sleeping, and he wasn't eating properly. And each time I knocked on his door, I didn't know what was going to happen.
- "(Y/L/N), can you come over for a second?"- there was a deep awkward silence in the bullpen after we all heard Hotch calling me to his office. I just nodded and stood up, trying to figure out if I had done something wrong in the lastest days. But I couldn't think of anything. I did my best.
- "Please, sit down,"- Hotch said as soon as I closed the door behind my back. Gideon was there, sitting on a couch, and Aaron pointed at the one next to him.
- "Is this because I laughed at Anderson's tie the other day? I'm sorry, I know it was out of place, but I apologized to him, and everything is fine."
- "We need to talk about Reid"- Gideon went straight to the point. I just held my breath and nodded.
- "Have you talked to him about what's going on? We know you are his closest friend, and we are worried he is not ok."- Hotch was talking like a father, not like a boss.
- "He is in denial"- I sighed and closed my eyes, defeated- "I've tried to find out what is happening, 'cos it's not just the abduction, there is something else there."
I made a pause and looked at them. They were worried sick, just as I was. It didn't even need to profile them.
- "But the only thing I can think of is..."- the three of us stared at each other in silence. We all knew it- "You are thinking the same as we are"- and they nodded in silence- "Dilaudid?"
- "We don't know what it is, but he has a problem, it's obvious,"- Hotch said and looked at me. I could tell he was worried sick.
- "It's the only thing that makes sense to me. Tobias used it, and maybe he gave it something while they were in the cabin."
- "You didn't notice anything strange before that?"
- "No, Hotch, before that abduction, he was just Reid, not whoever he is right now..."
I never thought I would end up talking about my fears of Reid using drugs with the chief unit and the best profiler on earth. But there I was. And I was desperate for their help.
- "What are we going to do?"- it was the only thing I could ask, 'cos it was the only thing I wanted to know.
- "We are not going to report him,"- Gideon quickly replied- "Strauss would fire him right away, and we all know the kid just needs help. He ain't no junkie."
- "Should we make an intervention or..."- I didn't know how to finish that line. They looked at each other and simply shook their heads.
- "We'll give him a couple of weeks. We are hoping he is going to reconsider what he is doing on his own."
- "And if he doesn't?"- I had to ask, 'cos it was what I feared the most.
- "Then we'll intervene"- Hotch sentenced and stood up- "I know you are worried, and I trust you'll keep a good eye on him."
- "Of course."
- "And don't let this get in the way of work, his, yours, and the team, ok?"- I nodded at Hotch and stood up.
- "If there's anything you need to talk about, I am here,"- Aaron said and looked me in the eyes- "I am worried about him, just as much as you are."
- "Thank you,"- I whispered and walked out.
Spoiler alert: shit got way worse before it started getting better.
The next morning we gathered at the conference room to analyze the case we were called in. We were all there, except for Reid. And neither Hotch nor Gideon looked happy. We stared for a second, and I shook my head. I had no idea where he was. But he was never late. In fact, he was always the first one to arrive. I had called him earlier, but it went straight to voicemail. So far, I had nothing.
- "This is Huston's fifth ward"- JJ explained and showed us the images of the crime scene on the screen and proceeded to explain.
- "It accounts for a large percent of the city's growing homicide rate due to gang violence and a bustling narcotics trade. Although in the last 48 hours there have been three distinctive murders in the ward."
- "Distinctive how?"- I asked, trying to find more info in the file JJ had given me.
- "Three men, three different socioeconomic groups. All killed on the street with their necks snapped. There appears to be no other injury, and there's no apparent connection between the victims or motive."
We were all in silence, reading and thinking, when suddenly, Spencer walked in.
He was completely wrecked. All his clothes were wrinkled, and his hair was messy. He actually looked like he could use a shower, so he had obviously overslept. He kept sipping his coffee cup and walking slowly to his chair.
We all looked at him in silence. Morgan and Emily were shocked to see him like this. Don't get me wrong, so was I, but somehow at that point, I was waiting for something like this to happen. Maybe it was the warning we needed to make our intervention.
- "The ward's detectives are inundated with homicides. Gang violence is a big problem"- JJ continued explaining the case, and I guess we all pretended not to see the big pink elephant in the room.
- "Shootings, armed robberies, it's an everyday occurrence. But this type of street attack is new to them."
I couldn't take my eyes from Spencer. He was fidgeting on his hair, moving constantly, and his eyes were fucking lost. He was high. It was crystal clear. How on earth could he get to work under the influences of whatever it was he was taking? I wanted to slap him. Worst. I wanted to beat the shit up to him.
- "Could it be gang related?"- Emily asked, and part of my focus went back to the case- "Maybe some new type of initiation rite?"
- "The gangs in the ward use guns"- JJ explained- "In fact, no known gangs exhibit this type of M.O."
- "What about dope?"- the words just slipped my lips, and I immediately looked at Spencer as I continued talking- "These guys come up with pretty freaky ways of killing the competition to get their message out."
Reid looked at me and didn't move a muscle for a second. I raised an eyebrow and finally turned to JJ, 'cos she turned to me and continued talking about the case.
- "Yeah, but it just doesn't seem to be any connection between the victims and the drug world."
- "Homeless man, a construction worker, security guard"- Gideon numbered the victims and shook his head. It didn't make sense- "Three dead men and no witnesses."
- "We are looking for a homicidal serial killer in a neighborhood populated by criminals,"- Hotch announced and closed the file.- "The challenge will be separating him from the rest."
- "We have no evidence. No apparent interaction between the unsub with the victims pre or post mortem and an indistinguishable M.O"- Reid's voice was annoyed, and everybody noticed 'cos they looked at him confused- "Should be simple."
That wasn't Spencer. That was an asshole with his face.
- "Wheels up in twenty,"- Hotch announced and stood up. I waited if he called Reid to his office, but he didn't. I could understand it was time to focus on the case, but we couldn't work with a drugged profiler, right?
- "Everything ok?"- I asked Spencer when I stood next to his desk, holding my go-bag, ready to leave the office.
- "Why wouldn't it be?"- he didn't even look at me when he talked.
- "'Cos you were late for work for the first time since I started working in the BAU."
- "It was going to happen eventually. Everybody is late for work every once in a while."
Reid finished whatever it was that he was doing on his desk and walked away from me. Just like that. It was clear that it wasn't going to be an easy day. And that wasn't my best friend.
When we were on the plane, I sat as far from him as possible. I was actually next to Gideon and Hotch. I felt like I needed their support at that moment. Mostly 'cos I didn't want to snap in front of Reid, and I knew they would hold me back.
Derek walked to me in the jet while we analyzed the victims and gave me a cup of coffee. I bet he could tell there was something wrong. I smiled and whispered thank you, and decided to focus on the case, 'cos that was what mattered the most that minute.
- "Let's see if any of the victims frequented the same stores or sites,"- Hotch said, going through the files again.
- "He used blitz attacks, which means he most likely lacks the interpersonal skills"- finally Spencer said something useful related to the case- "He needed to coerce his victims into coming close. And he also used the element of surprise, which means he may have stalked his victims prior to killing them."
- "Well, if that's the case, I wanna go back to the crime scenes to see where he may have been hiding,"- Morgan said and looked at me- "Are you in, pretty girl?"
- "Count me in,"- I answered and smiled. I was glad to be paired with Derek, 'cos I didn't feel like being with Spencer that day.
- "I want to see the neighborhood for myself,"- Gideon added.
- "The rest of you will go to the precinct and set up shop,"- Hotch commanded.
- "I'll map out the area and see if I can find any places the victims would have visited in the neighborhoods,"- Reid said and looked at me.
- "Good, maybe we can find a connection between them. I'll help you with that"- the way Spencer turned to Emily after she said that was unknown. He was upset she had offered her help. What the fuck?
- "I can handle it,"- he answered coldly, and the silence on the jet was instant. And awkward. I looked at my best friend in shock as Hotch tried to keep his cool.
- "I wasn't suggesting that you couldn't"- Emily excused herself, but Reid was still mad somehow.
- "You know what "I'll help you with it" means?"- and before he kept talking, Hotch interrupted him and mandated.
- "Reid, Prentiss will help you with the geographical profile and victimology."
- "Fine,"- Spencer answered and looked down at the file again.
That wasn't my friend. That was a down-water version of him. Both Gideon and Hotch looked at him and didn't say a word. The heavy silence hung between us for a while. Prentiss looked at me, not getting what was wrong with Reid, and I tried to smile at her and make her feel better. I don't think I could anyway.
- "Do you know what's wrong with Reid?"- Prentiss, Morgan, and JJ walked to me as soon as we stepped off the jet. They were puzzled by his behavior, and I couldn't blame them.
- "He is going through..."- I paused my words and started over- "He is not doing..."- I stopped and started for the third time, making my best to sum up what was happening.
- "He is fucked up."
That was the best I could do to explain what was happening.
- "Please, don't take it personally"- I looked at Emily with pleading eyes- "I know I'm not the one who should apologize, but he is clearly not taking the abduction's effect pretty well, and he refuses to go to therapy."
- "We are all worried for the kid,"- Morgan said as we all walked to the SUV. Reid was walking ahead of us, and it felt he just wanted to get as far from us as possible.
- "Yeah, I know... just bear with him, please."
Now that I think about it, I don't know why I was apologizing for his behavior. I guess 'cos I knew he wouldn't. And also, there was a part of me that felt guilty. I felt I wasn't doing anything to help him. I felt I was letting him sink.
Spencer's point of view
I don't know how I didn't get fired that day. Or in the days to follow. I was acting like an asshole, and I know it now. Back then, I was out of myself. I couldn't help it. I was trying to quit, but it was too hard. I couldn't take it. My whole body was craving for a little fix. The last one, just one more. That's what I kept telling myself. So I kept using, and I kept trying to quit again.
Those days were hell. The case in Huston showed the worst of me, I think. I even had a meltdown in the police station 'cos there was too much noise. Can you believe that? I lost it 'cos there was a construction site outside, and the noise bothered me.
Hotch raised an eyebrow as he saw my reaction, and I got it in a second. He knew. Then why wasn't he doing anything? I shook away those thoughts from my head and tried to focus on the case again. But, of course, things weren't going to be easy.
- "Let's get a list of residents who've been kicked out of their homes by the gentrification. Reid, you and Prentiss go check the shelters."- Gideon said, and I clenched my fist immediately. I didn't want to work with anyone that day. Why were they forcing me?
- "Yeah, we are on it"- Emily stood up right away and obviously, met my annoyed eyes- "Unless you are ok with that, Reid?"- I swear, I hated her.
- "I'm fine with that"- I spit the words and walked out the station with her.
All I kept thinking was how long until I reached my room to get high again. And when it started affecting my job, that's when I first got worried. Maybe Dilaudid wasn't something I could handle on my own.
The fact I was stuck with Prentiss wasn't even the worst part of my day. The fact I had to go out there and talk to people, ask questions, read their body language, and take mental notes of everything they said, was annoying. I wanted to get the fuck out there. Just like that. I swear I was doing my best to do my job, but my body and mind weren't letting me concentrate. I just wanted to end with the day and be alone.
That's why when we were at the shelter, I tried to make the interview as fast and short as possible.
Emily and I talked with one of the administrators of the shelter. It was packed, just as we thought it'd be. All the homeless losing their place on the street didn't have anywhere to go.
- "It looks like you have your hands full"- Emily pointed out the obvious and started annoying me right away.
- "With the demolitions in the projects and the abandoned buildings, there's no place else for people to sleep."
- "Well, thank god there are people like you who take the time..."- but I didn't have time for Emily's bullshit.
- "Do you have a list of everyone who comes through here?"- I asked to end with the senseless conversation.
- "Uh... well we have a sign-in sheet."- Angie answered, confused- "But we don't force anyone to sign in if they don't want to. Some who don't even use their real names"- she paused and smiled- "Elvis eats here a lot."
- "We would appreciate any lists you have"- finally, Emily cooperated with the investigation.
- "Have you noticed anyone who acts unusually aggressive towards the other residents?"- I went straight to the point.
- "What is this about?"
- "A series of murders in the area. The perpetrator may be a homeless man. Maybe someone who stays here. He may even be in this room as we speak."
- "My god, Reid!"- I know Prentiss wanted to smack me. But I didn't care.
- "Have you noticed anyone who acts paranoid or displays explosive, unprovoked bursts of violence. More than just pushing and shoving? I mean, someone who really tried to harm others."
- "There are territorial fights over food and places to sleep. The nurse treats people for minor injuries all the time. But no one is seriously hurt."
- "If anyone does come to mind, give us a call"- I gave Angie my card and said goodbye. I needed to get out of there.
I know. I was harsh. But to be fair, she had to know she might actually face a psychopath any minute, and she had to be alert. Of course, Prentiss didn't agree with me, 'cos the second she found me outside the shelter after talking with Angie, she started arguing.
- "There's a high presence of mental disorders with the homeless,"- I said as soon as I saw her, but, of course, she didn't care about the facts.
- "What the hell was that in there?"- she nearly yelled at me. I just looked at her, annoyed, and crossed my arms on my chest.
- "He may even be in this room as we speak? We have nothing to support that!"
- "We are investigating a serial homicide. Should I have pretended there's no danger?"
- "We just left that woman potentially afraid of every man who walks into this shelter!"
- "Again, until we find this unsub, how is that a bad thing?"- she looked at me in disbelief, like he couldn't understand why I was telling her the truth.
- "What's the matter with you?"
- "What do you mean what's the matter with me?"
- "I have never seen you act like this"- and that just sealed the deal for me. I hated Emily that day.
- "Oh, really? on! in the months that you know me, you have never seen me act this way?"- the sarcasm in my voice was obvious, as well as the frustration in my voice- "No offense, Emily, but you don't really know what you are talking about, do you?"
She looked at me, shocked, and didn't say another word. I just walked away from her and decided to take a cab back to the police station. I didn't even want to be in the same SUV as her.
Why was I mad at Prentiss? I don't know. I think I was 'cos she was still acting as the new kid, always cheerful and willing to help. I guessed she could be my punchball. She wouldn't mind. She was trying to please everybody, after all.
Lucky for me, we were able to finish that case quickly. The next morning, everything was solved, and though our unsub was dead, I was glad we were on our way home. However, I was sad about our killer. He meant no harm. He was having a psychotic break due to his time serving the country in Afghanistan. He thought we were at war. He wanted to save people and saw the victims as possible threats. He didn't mean to kill innocents. He was just... not himself anymore. I could understand that.
- "Hey"- (Y/N) walked over me when we landed that night- "Do you need a ride home?"
- "No, thanks,"- I answered immediately and grabbed my satchel tight- "I think I'll take the subway."
She looked at me and bit her lips for a few seconds, walking next to me. Until she just grabbed my arm and forced me to stop.
- "What the hell? (Y/N)?"
- "Listen, Spencer, I know what's going on, and I want to help you. Can you please talk to me!"- I furrowed my brows and clenched my jaw. Did she know about Dilaudid? How? Why?
- "I don't know what you are talking about,"- I muttered and freed my arm from her hand.
- "Fine, you don't wanna face it! just know this: I know what you are going through, and I am here to help you."
- "Really, (Y/N)? you know what I'm going through?"
My heart was racing, and my palms were sweaty. I didn't want to be there, and I didn't want to fight my best friend. But I just needed to go back home and get fucking high. And she was in the way.
- "Because as far as I remember, you are not the one who got abducted and tortured for four days just a few weeks ago."
- "Seriously, Reid?"- she grunted and crossed her arms on her chest, just like I did- "You think you can play the pity card on me? so 'cos I wasn't kidnapped this month, I don't get what the fuck you are going through?"
- "What the fuck do you want me to say? you just don't get it, and that's it."
I turned around and walked away from her. I knew I was hurting her, but I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to tell her what was going on. And most of all, I really needed to get home.
- "Fine, Reid, do what you want!"- she grabbed my arm and pulled me again- "Go home and fucking get high!"
- "What the fuck are you talking about?"- and I denied everything right away.
- "Don't pretend you don't know, 'cos you are crystal clear to me, Spencer. Whatever it is that you are doing, you can talk to me! I am your friend! I wanna help you!"
- "You don't know what you are talking about."
That was all I could say. I saw her eyes tearing up, so I turned around and ran from her. I literally ran. I didn't want to hear her cry. I didn't want to talk to her again. I just needed to get home and get fucking high. Reality had turned into something I could barely face sober. As simply and hurtful as that.
(Y/N)'s point of view
I didn't take Spencer's words personally 'cos I knew he was craving, and he would do and say anything to get to his house and get high. He might even not wait to get home. And I was worried sick. So I turned to the one person I could talk about this, no questions asked.
- "So, tell me what's the matter, nugget?"- Frank and I sat on my couch, drank a few beers, and after a while dancing around the subject, he pushed me to talk.
- "I'm worried about Spencer."
- "Doc? what is it?"
- "He is using"- Frank turned to me in shock- "Yes, I know."
- "How? When? Why?"
- "Remember I told you he was kidnapped and tortured? Well, the guy who had him started injecting him Dilaudid, or at least that's why I'm inferring, 'cos he has been using something that's definitely not pot or coke, for the lastest weeks."
Frank looked at me like I was insane. I know he kept thinking it was impossible someone like Reid would do such a thing, but I could actually understand why he might do it. His life had been shitty. He found an escape from the pain. I just wished it was something that didn't hurt him as drugs did.
- "He is vanishing, Frankie,"- I whispered and sighed. I was trying my best not to cry. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and moved me closer to him until he was able to kiss the top of my head.
- "I really don't know how to help him."
- "That's the worst part, you are not going actually to help him until he is ready to be helped."
I knew he was right, and that was worse, 'cos I was afraid Spencer would never be ready for help. I was terrified he would hide in the drugs forever.
- "Paco?"- I whispered and started crying
- "What is it, nugget?"
- "I really don't know what to do"- and just like that, I burst into tears. I had been holding them for weeks now, and suddenly, I just couldn't take it anymore.
- "Come on, don't cry."
Frank held me tight, and I just cried until my head hurt. We just sat there, on the couch. He hugged me and kept rocking my body until there were no more tears left inside of me.
- "Nugget, you have to be strong, as far as I know, you are the closest friend he has."
- "Yeah, I know... no pressure there, right?"- he smiled, and I sighed, closing my eyes. I felt confused and defeated. I really didn't know how to help my best friend.
- "You have to remember, you can't use aggressive language when you talk to him, no matter how mad he is driving you."
- "He yelled at me last time we talked."
- "And you yelled back, I guess"- I nodded, guilty, and stood up. I needed another beer. No, I needed something stronger.
I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of scotch from my tiny, humble little bar. I didn't usually drink scotch, but I swear I needed it.
- "So, any advice? I need your best psychologist's point of view to face this mess"- I walked back to the living room and handed Frank another beer.
- "Yes, stop yelling. That will only push him away from you."
- "But he is making me mad!"
- "He is a drug addict (Y/N). This is not about you!"
- "Fair point"- I kept walking around the room, trying to breathe and calm myself down. I really needed that advice.
- "Don't harass him. You have to build trust and a safe space for him to talk to you."
- "I am his best friend. What more trust does he need?"
- "You don't have to judge him!"
- "I would never!"- and just like that, I started yelling.
- "Yeah, control your shitty temper, (Y/N)"- Frank had a point, and I hated it.
- "Noted, then what? How can I make him ask for help?"
- "You can't... you have to wait and hope for the best."
- "That's all you've got?"- Frank sighed and stood up. He walked to me and held my shoulders still so I wouldn't walk away.
- "You have to understand this: he has to want to get help. If not, you are just going to have a bunch of failed attempts that will frustrate him. And you might actually push him away from you, 'cos you and I know you will turn into this obsessive person that will be on him, day and night telling him to get help."
Frank was right. I hate when Frank is right. I'm not used to living in a world where Frank is right.
- "So, I have to wait until he wants to get better?"
- "Can I make him want to get better? Is that cheating?"- I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of chips. Each time I feel anxious, I start eating. I can't help it.
- "Listen, he won't ask for help, he won't acknowledge he has a problem, and he will probably be embarrassed he is doing drugs, so whatever you do, don't push him, ok?"
- "Yes"- I whispered- "But... making him want to get better..."
- "How would you fucking do that without pushing him?!"
- "I don't know, Frank!"- I snapped and kept eating chips for a whole minute nonstop.
- "Come on, give me that"- my friend grabbed the bad and kept it away from me- "Keep your shit together, Reid needs you."
- "How can he need me if you keep saying I can't help him?!"
- "You can. You just have to find a way to make him want to ask for help without being pushy and annoying"- I knew he was trying to help me, but it was hard to see the light at the end of that tunnel.
- "Come here"- I walked to him and felt his arms around me- "You are awesome, nugget, you are gonna be ok."
- "It's him who I'm worried about."
- "I mean, you are gonna do fine helping him. He listens to you. He is going to be ok with you."
- "Thank you..." - Frank looked at me and smiled mischievously for a second.
- "I know this is a shitty moment, but I have to tell you, the gang and me... we've been talking and, we want you to date Doc."
There's no word on earth to describe the look on my face when I heard him saying those words. He simply smiled innocently and squeezed my cheeks.
- "And you are blushing!! you are adorable."
- "Shut up!"- I was going to argue with Frank, but he was saved by my phone. JJ called. We had a case. It was time to go.
- "You know, we always whine about you never being here because of your job,"- Frank said as I drove him back home on my way to Quantico- "But I'm really proud of you, nugget."
I looked at him and noticed he was serious. He was actually tearing up.
- "I know things will never be the way they were before, and we won't hang out all the time doing anything, but the fact you are out there, making a difference, it's really inspiring."
- "I'm sorry I'm getting this emotional, I just... needed to tell you. Lu said the other day you were always in danger in this job, you are usually in gunfire and risking your life, and none of us had thought about that. So from now on, each time I see you, I'm gonna tell you: I love you, I'm proud of you, and you are my little sister, forever. ok?"
I nodded at Frank and bit my lips. I was nearly crying as I heard those words. He just smiled and held my hand for a second.
- "Take care out there, and tell me how Doc is going, ok?"- I nodded and sighed. Frank is really my brother. I love talking to him. He might act like an asshole, but he is actually one of the smartest assholes I know.
I tried to wipe off my tears as I walked into the bullpen that night, but I knew I had done a lousy job when JJ looked at me and nearly ran over, concerned.
- "Are you ok? (Y/N)?"- I just bit my lips and nodded- "Come here"- she held my hand and walked me to the bathroom.
- "What's wrong?"
I felt overwhelmed at that minute. My talk with Frank had touched a nerve, I think. So I did the last thing I thought I could do. I hugged JJ tight and held her for a few minutes. She hugged me sweetly and caressed my hair. I kept biting my lips in a poor attempt not to cry, but I knew I was failing.
- "Are you ok? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your boyfriend?"- I shook my head and sighed.
- "I'm ok. I just had a very emotional talk with a friend who basically said he thinks each time we see each other might be the last time because of my job. So that really struck a chord, you know?"
- "Come on, sweety"- JJ smiled at me and wiped off the tears from my cheeks with a tissue.
- "I know it's silly 'cos I actually already knew that. But, sometimes, we don't realize how much we do affect other people's lives. Family, friends..."
- "I know what you mean. I still can't believe what you guys do on the field. Garcia and I, we often talk about how scared we are 'cos something might happen to any of you out there."
I sighed and walked to the mirror to fix my make-up. I looked like shit.
- "Thank you,"- I whispered and looked at my friend- "I know I'm a cold bitch sometimes, but I want you to know I love you, and I love working with you."
- "Come on, you are not a cold bitch"- JJ smiled and walked to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we both looked at each other in the mirror.
- "I yelled at you until you cried once,"- I said, and she simply smiled at me like it never actually happened.
- "You were under an unbearable amount of pressure, and I kind of deserved it, so... no hard feelings."
- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sighed- "Now, let me hide all these tears 'cos I don't want the team to find out I'm a human being with emotions."
- "We all know you are not Hotch"- I chuckled at JJ's words and shook my head.
- "Damn it! I'm failing in my crusade."
Spencer's point of view
(Y/N) had been crying. It was the first thing I noticed when she sat across the table from me in the briefing room. I wanted to know what was going on, but I doubted she wanted to talk to me after what had happened last night. I didn't know what to say or how to approach her. So I just sat there and looked at my notebook, sketching her in silence, not even adding facts to the conversations. I didn't want to be there.
Today was our day off. Under normal circumstances, we would have spent it together. Movies, walking, whatever we felt like doing. But no, I spent my whole free day in my house high, until we got the call to come to Quantico after lunch.
I have been trying to quit. I swear I've tried. But I can't. I can't do it on my own, and I know it. But I can't ask for help. To who? a group? Telling people I'm a drug addict fed? No, thank you. To Hotch? and risk being suspended. No way. To (Y/N)? She would help me, I know, but she wouldn't like me anymore if she knew what I've been doing. I will never face it in front of her. I rather fix this on my own and then make my best to be the old Spencer she is friends with. That's it. That's my plan.
We had to go to New Orleans. A serial killer who had killed three people before Katrina happened, and now after years, was back. They thought he had died in the storm, but suddenly, a fourth body was found. Same M.O, the same type of victim. The police department required our help. So we took the jet.
- "Hey, Reid,"- Morgan woke me from my thoughts suddenly. He was sitting next to me on the jet- "What's going on up there?"
- "Just thinking about this old friend of mine from Las Vegas, Ethan. He lives in New Orleans now."
- "Really? gonna give him a call?"
- "We grew up competing against each other in absolutely everything: Spelling bees, science fairs. we also both had our heart set on joining the bureau, but the first day at Quantico, he backed out."
I never really understood Ethan and why he decided to leave. I always thought of asking, but a part of me felt I knew the answer and didn't want to hear it.
- "Probably he just couldn't take the heat,"- Prentiss said suddenly from the other side of the place and smiled at me. Maybe she thought her comment was funny, but it wasn't. I hated it.
- "It's not really for us to judge, is it?"- she looked at me, puzzled.
- "Right, my bad."
I knew everybody on the jet thought I was rude, and I was, but honestly, I hated Prentiss's comment. I looked at (Y/N). She didn't even take her eyes from the file she read. So, of course, she was still mad at me. And I deserved it, I guess.
Unlucky for me, I was stuck with (Y/N) and Prentiss with the forensic report. We had to see the last victim and try to gather as much information as possible for the investigation. It wouldn't be so hard to work with (Y/N) under regular conditions. I love working with her. We always find a way to crack something from the case that we wouldn't have been able to see on our own.
But this time, we weren't even talking to each other. Needless to say, Prentiss, who had been the target of my hate for the last days.
- "Four layers of fatty tissue sliced through like butter,"- the medic said and shook his head as we all stared at the body- "I've only seen that three other times."
- "You worked this case initially?"- (Y/N) took the words I was going to say. She would usually do that.
- "You don't forget victims like this,"- he answered to her, shaking his head.
- "I can still smell the alcohol on him"- Prentiss pointed out the obvious.
- "This is New Orleans. Dead or alive, it's a smell you get used to."
- "The victim has no defense wounds"- I analyzed 'cos someone had to stop that chat and focus on words. Emily, of course, noticed I was annoyed and looked at me, surprised.- "Meaning this is more likely a blitz attack."
(Y/N) raised the sheet, and the two of us looked at the victim carefully. It was the closest we had been in the whole day. And I could smell her perfume. It was heartwarming, somehow.
- "No hesitation marks or rapid thrust"- she said- "These cuts were methodical, almost procedural."
- "My guess, whoever gutted this guy was taught to,"- I said and crossed my eyes, looking at my best friend. But she didn't say a word back.
- "So you think he might have some medical training?"- Emily asked her, and (Y/N) turned to look at her.
- "Yes, I think it's a good option. How else could he carve around every organ and leave each one intact?"
I kept my eyes on my best friend as Emily talked about something I didn't care about with the forensic. (Y/N) was doing her best not to look at me. That situation was killing me, knowing it was my fault.
When we walked outside, (Y/N) started talking with Emily about the victim, but that conversation soon ended when Hotch called my best friend and asked her to go to the police station. I took my chance as we walked to the SUV and whispered.
- "(Y/N)... can we talk?"
- "Not now, Spencer"- my name had never sounded so cold coming from her before. She looked at me. She wasn't mad or angry. She was just... working.
- "We have a case, maybe later, ok?"- and I just nodded.
When we walked back into the police station, after the most awkward ride back, we found Hotch standing in front of a projector, reading the letters the killer had sent chief Lamontagne, the former police on the case, who had died in Katrina. Now his son was in charge of the case, and he was pretty concerned not to disappoint the memory of his father. That was something I definitely couldn't relate to at all.
- "Is that the letter from the unsub?"- Emily kept asking the obvious questions. (Y/N) sighed and stood in the middle of the room, listening to Hotch reading the letter out loud. I stayed back, just staring at her, waiting for her analysis. I love her analysis.
- "I'm back with a vengeance. I wanted you to know the last guy made it easy, being out so late stumbling home drunk. I enjoyed slicing around his organs. I thought about sending you one. He was asking to be ripped, don't you think, boss? Yours truly"
- "To say the victims were asking to be killed denies all culpability"- (Y/N) said, and I nodded right away- "Most sexual sadist rationalize their own behavior by blaming the victims like that."
- "But there was no evidence of sexual assault in the autopsy"- Emily argued- "He could be a homosexual male stabbing because he needs violence for arousal."
- "Every kill he's acting out a fantasy of revenge"- Hotch supported those thoughts.
- "What if he's acting trying to act out something else?"- I said, connecting the dots between each murderer, 'cos they reminded me of something.
- "Like what?"- Emily asked me, but I didn't even look at her.
- "Except for the victims were men, it's the same M.O."
- "What are you talking about?"- Emily still didn't get it, but (Y/N) did, 'cos she turned to me, and her eyes were bright, and I smiled, knowing when she was thinking.
- "Jack!"- she whispered. I looked at her and nodded.
- "All four victims were found with their throats slashed, eviscerated, and the murders perpetrated in semi-public places. And the murders perpetrated in semi-public places after dark."
- "Investigators taunted with the letters addressed to "boss." The only difference is that case was one hundred years ago"- (Y/N) continued my thoughts, and I couldn't stop smiling, glad we were still able to think together like that.
- "And they took place in London"- I finished and (Y/N) nodded. But soon, her smile faded, and her eyes were locked back on the screen.
- "Jack the Ripper"- Emily finally figured it out.
- "And the unsub wants us to think that he's the modern-day version loose in New Orleans."
That night I had a shot of whisky from the mini bar, washed my face, did my best to stay calm, and walked to (Y/N)'s room. JJ opened the door. She and Emily were there with (Y/N). There were many file folders on the bed, so it was clear they were working the case. I froze for a second. I didn't expect to see them there. I took a deep breath and simply asked.
- "Hey... can we talk?"- I ignored JJ and just looked at (Y/N), whose eyes were wide open at the other side of the room.
- "Sure"- she was already in her pajamas, so she put on a hoodie and her sneakers and walked out to the hall with me.
- "Do you want to come to my room?"- I asked her when I saw her shivering- "I'm alone, we can talk, and you won't freeze to death"- and as a Christmas miracle, she accepted.
- "What is it, Spencer?"- she asked me and crossed her arms on her chest as soon as I closed my bedroom door. I stood in front of her and sighed. It was now or never. I had to do it.
- "I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday"- and she didn't say a word. She just stared at me, waiting for me to continue talking, I guess. But believe it or not, that was all I had.
- "That's it?"- she whispered. I kept looking into her eyes, and suddenly, the only thought in my mind was to move closer to her and run my fingers through her hair. It had to feel so soft, it smelled so good. I couldn't shake the idea from my mind.
- "Spencer?"- she said and frowned. Right, I had to answer.
- "I just wanted to apologize to you. I've been in an awful mood lately 'cos I haven't been sleeping at all, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."
Her eyes scanned me, every inch of my face and my body. Was she sure I was doing some drugs? Did she just say it because she had a hunch? Am I see-through? I didn't know the answers to any of those questions. What I did know was the fact I had to keep denying my truth.
- "It's ok, Spencer. I shouldn't have pushed you anyway,"- she whispered, and her face softened. I couldn't help it and sighed, relieved.
- "I am so, so sorry, really. I've been feeling like a scum bag the whole day, and I didn't know how to talk to you."
She took a step closer and wrapped her arms around me. Just like that, she hugged me, and I was left speechless. I held her tight and smelled her perfume around me. I prayed it would say in my pajamas, to feel it with me after she was gone.
Yes. I had feelings for my best friend, and they were becoming clearer and stronger every day. But they were a problem I couldn't deal with at that minute. Not when she was in my arms like that, hugging me as her life depended on it, making me feel I was a person worth loving.
When she slowly let me go, her eyes were filled with tears, and my heart broke. She was crying. Was it because of me? Did I hurt her that bad? I felt like the worst person on earth, and all I could do was hold her tight again, feeling her arms locked around my waist.
- "I'm so sorry, so sorry,"- I whispered, and my voice broke.
- "I don't wanna lose you, honey,"- she whispered and sobbed against the fabric of my pajamas.
- "You won't, I swear"- I held her as close as possible, as my eyes watered up too.
- "You are my best friend."
- "You are my best friend too, and I am so sorry I hurt you. I promise I won't do it again"- she looked at me with a short smile and nodded.
I leaned and kissed her forehead. I didn't even think about it. I just did it. And the knot in my stomach reminded me that was the closest I had ever been to her in my entire life.
She sighed and wiped off her tears.
- "Ok, I should go to bed now. I left the girls in my room, and they might be bored already"- I nodded and grabbed my keys.
- "Let me walk you over"- and she giggled.
- "Honey, literally, I just have to walk to the end of the hall. I'll be ok."
- "I know you will. I want to do it. I've been a jerk with you these days, and I need to make amends."
- "You should also make amends with Prentiss, don't you think?"- I just nodded and started walking with her to her room.
- "I'll talk to her tomorrow"- she held my hand and rubbed her thumbs against my skin as we walked. I loved it. I had never held someone's hand as I walked, except, of course, my mother's when I was a kid.
- "Thank you,"- she whispered as we stood outside her door. I just smiled and looked at her. In a parallel universe, I would lean in and kiss her. But in this universe, I only smiled and waved.
- "See you tomorrow, (Y/N)."
- "Goodnight, Spencer."
(Y/N)'s point of view
When I walked into my room, JJ and Prentiss were waiting for me, sitting on my bed, drinking the beer Emily had brought. They both looked at me in silence, with widened eyes for a few seconds until I shrugged.
- "So, where were we?"
- "What is wrong with Reid?"- JJ asked immediately, ignoring my comment. I just sighed and walked to get a beer. I knew there was no way I was going to get out of that conversation.
- "He has been an asshole with me for the last week"- Emily added- "I know there's something there 'cos he snapped on me the other day, he even yelled at me."
- "He yelled at me too"- I confessed- "We were just talking about that. He has been in a shitty mood."
I didn't want to mention the drug use. I wasn't sure, and I didn't know if Emily or JJ had noticed anything related to that issue.
- "Are you sure that's all that's going on with him?- Prentiss knew. She was a good profiler, and Reid wasn't too subtle either. I just looked at her and shook my head.
- "We are working on it"- I lied. I wasn't part of "working" on anything yet. But I didn't want them to get involved in that problem.
- "You can count on us too"- JJ sat next to me and held my hand- "We love Spence, and we can help him. We want to help him."
- "I know, and right now, all I can ask you to help me with is to bear with his shit for a little longer. He has big mood swings, and he has trouble sleeping..."
I tried not to give them any detailed information about his situation.
- "We are"- I didn't know how to explain- "He has to work on his shit and I'm trying to give him all the support he needs. But, he doesn't want to share this with anyone. Hotch and Gideon already talked to me."
They nodded in silence and looked at me, honesty concerned.
- "Is he..."- JJ couldn't even finish her sentence- "Do you know if he..."
- "I'm not sure"- and that time, I didn't lie- "He is not ready to give me all the details, but he is ready for help. So please, patient. If he hurts you, it's not personal. It's not him. Ok?"
My friend sighed. JJ looked at me in silence and rubbed her hand on mine again. I could tell she was concerned, and I knew she wanted to help. I just didn't know how she could help that minute.
- "You are the best friend Spencer could ever ask for,"- Emily said and smiled at me- "You are always so worried about him."
- "He is my best friend, and all I want for him is happiness,"- I said and shrugged- "He deserves it."
- "If I didn't know better, I'd say you are in love with him."
Prentiss looked into my eyes, and I didn't move a muscle for a few seconds. I knew my cheeks were turning red, but I refused to give her the wrong impression.
- "Yeah, some people usually think that when a man and a woman are best friends,"- I simply replied, and she nodded.
There was a small silence in my room. I knew Prentiss didn't mean to say that in a mean way, but I didn't feel comfortable with her comment. I think she noticed, 'cos after a few seconds, she smiled at me and turned to JJ.
- "Now, why don't we talk about detective William Lamontagne?"- and our dear JJ turned blood red right away.
- "What is there to say?"- Emily and I looked at each other and chuckled- "What? he is nice. He is very affected by the case 'cos he wants to make sure to honor his father's work."
- "I think he has been very affected by you during this case,"- I said and shook my head, as JJ tried to deny it- "Oh, come on! He has been giving you the puppy eyes the whole time we've been here! earlier at the police station, he bumped into a wall and nearly dropped his coffee 'cos he couldn't stop looking at you!!"
- "Yeah!! I saw that!!"- Prentiss said, laughing too- "You are driving that guy insane!"
- "No, I am not!"- JJ was so flustered it was both funny and cute at the same time.
- "Yes, you are. It's a shame he lives so far from home"- I sighed at my words and looked at JJ, biting her inner lip- "There are always cellphones, though."
- "Yeah! he is hot, you should ask him out when the case is done"- Prentiss supported my words, and JJ even stood up, completely blushed, and started walking around the room.
- "I am nice to him, and my focus right now is on the investigation, ok?"- Emily and I nodded.
- "Yes, we know, but you can focus on another aspect of detective Lamontagne when the investigation is over, and the case is solved"- the way JJ looked at me, I thought she was going to kill me- "What? I'm just saying!"
The next morning wasn't as pleasant as my evening with my friends. There had been another murder. The whole team stood around the dead body, talking with the police and the victim's two friends, who still couldn't believe what was going on.
- "So, the three of you were out together last night?"- Reid asked one of the victim's friends.
My friend looked calmed that day but still too pale, and the rings under his eyes were still too dark. Had he used something the night before? Was he still a little high? I had no idea. I just hoped he was in a better mood with Prentiss that day and that he could apologize to her as he had apologized to me.
- "Mark had just paid his tab at one bar, and he was on his way to meet us at another."
- "You guys get in any trouble?"- I asked, looking at their faces, trying to read if they were lying- "Drunken brawl? Anyone get out of hand?"
- "We were just out to have fun, you know. Minded our own business"- one of them answered, and you could tell he was deeply affected by the death of his friend. He really wasn't hiding anything.
- "Could Mark have met a girl? Maybe upset her boyfriend?"- Derek asked, and he looked so serious even I got a little scared of him. I knew he was trying to play "bad cop," trying to see if any of those guys were lying.
- "No, sir."
- "He struck out as we all did."
- "Thanks, guys"- Morgan nodded at them, and they turned around to talk to the police. We were left with detective Lamontagne, who honestly looked defeated.
- "It's getting hard to keep up with this guy."
- "Well, if he is mimicking Jack the Ripper, that might be precisely the point"- Emily stood next to him, and I don't know if he tried to comfort him or just tried to make him see we were all pretty confused with the case.
- "He terrorized London for months without ever getting caught."
I don't think those last words Prentiss said made him feel any better, though.
- "I'd appreciate it if you'd gather your men"- Gideon walked to Lamontagne and spoke to him in a soft voice- "We'd like to give you a profile of you're up against."
We left for the police station after that, and Reid disappeared. He told Hotch he wanted to call his friend Ethan. Maybe he might have heard or known something about the killer. It sounded like bullshit to me, but maybe talking to his friend could help him clear his mind. Ethan was his best friend in college. Perhaps he could help him, talk some sense to him. I don't know. I was trying my best to be positive.
We delivered the profile to the local police and stayed in the station. I was going over the letters again, trying to see what I was missing. And I had to do my best to look professional each time detective Will flirted with JJ. But that was the hardest task, 'cos Emily would look at me, and I had to bit my lips and close my eyes not to chuckle.
Gideon was sitting next to me, going through the files. It was nice being finally able to work along with him. After what happened with Reid, it was clear the two of us were finally on the same page. And I loved it.
My phone rang, and for a second, I thought I might be Spencer with some fresh info. But it was Garcia, also with new information.
- "Hello Garcia"
- "Munchkin, you are a smart girl. What was the thing Jack the ripper took from one of his victims?"
- "Other than his life?"
- "Yeah, besides that."
- "A kidney, gross and bloody"- only in this job you can chuckle at that kind of conversation.
- "How horrifyingly fantastic is that?"
- "I don't know. It depends. What would you need a kidney for back then? Threaten? Eat? Make a statement. But why are we talking about this?"
- "Your friendly neighbor Penelope just found an unsolved murder that happened four months ago in Galveston, Texas, with the same M.O. and the victim missing that very organ. I amaze myself."
- "I love you, you know that, right?"
- "It's impossible not to love me, munchkin. Later."
- "Thank you"
- "What's that?"- Gideon asked me as soon as I hung down.
- "Garcia found a similar case in Galveston, Texas."
- "A lot of Katrina refugees relocated there."
- "It could be the same guy. He removed a kidney, just like the ripper."- Jason looked at me and nodded.
- "Call Reid and Morgan. I want the three of you on a plane to Texas tonight."
Spencer's point of view
Ethan and I were having a drink in the local bar he played in. It was nice talking to him. Everybody knows I'm not a big fan of technology, and calling him wasn't really my thing. Just like answering my letters wasn't really his.
I was in the middle of a fascinating conversation with my friend when my phone rang. It was (Y/N). I hesitated for a second. I really wasn't in the mood for work. I wanted to be at that bar, drinking, not catching a Jack the ripper wanna be. So I didn't answer. For the first time in over three years.
- "So, are you gonna ask the question?"- Ethan turned to me suddenly and gave me an ironic smile.
- "What question?"
- "Come on, man. It's me here. We haven't talked to each other in a while. I know it's why you called me. Ask the question."
I smiled at him and sighed. He was right. I knew what he meant.
- "Why did you quit after only one day of FBI training?"- we stayed in silence for a second. Then, finally, Ethan sipped his drink and sighed.
- "I'm sure you've considered the evidence, analyzed the signs. What's your theory?"
He was right again. More than an answer, I needed him to confirm my hypothesis.
- "You were battling your own demons. You didn't have time to analyze someone else's."
That wasn't just what I thought he had been through. That's what I thought I was going through as well. I had so much in my mi, and I felt overwhelmed by the case. I didn't know if I had what it took to be an SSA. I didn't know if I wanted to be one anymore.
I thought the only person who could guide me was Ethan. That's why I didn't answer the phone that minute, when (Y/N) started calling me again.
- "The batphone"- Ethan teased me, and I felt I was forced to smile. But, to be honest, I wasn't in the mood for jokes. I wasn't in the mood for anything but maybe a little fix to deal with my head.
- "Do you ever regret it?"- I don't know why I asked if I knew his answer before he even opened his mouth.
- "I may not be changing the world, but music makes me happy."- he made a pause and looked right into my eyes- It doesn't take a profiler to see that you are not.
I don't know if I'm too obvious or my friends know me too well. Ethan walked to a couch, and I followed him, holding my brandy.
- "It's not easy. And it's not... I don't think you believe some of the things that I've seen."
- "John Coltrane"- he said as I sat on another small couch across from him- "He was a genius too. Died of cancer, but most people think it was the booze and heroin that did him in."
- "What are you trying to say?"- it was clear where this was going.
- "You look like hell,"- I grunted and shook my head.
- "I'm fine."
- "Come on, man, I'm a jazz musician in New Orleans. I know what it looks like when someone's not well"- I made my best not to look at him and kept my eyes on the carpet.
- "This may be the only time I can tell you something that you don't already know. That might help you forget, but it won't make it go away."
I hated to hear that, 'cos I knew it was true. And it was the one thing I really didn't want to deal with.
- "And if I can tell"- he continued- "You are surrounded by some of the best minds in the world. And if you think they don't notice..."- I finally looked at him, and he simply shook his head- "Well, for a genius, that's just dumb."
I was left sitting at that bar, speechless. Drinking my brandy, not ready to face my truth or my own mind. (Y/N) kept calling me, and I just kept ignoring her. I couldn't deal with work. I couldn't deal with her either. I couldn't deal with anything that wasn't that glass of brandy in my hand, and the second I was about to ask.
Ethan's words broke a record in my head, repeating over and over: "That might help you forget, but it won't make it go away."
Well, that night, I was just trying to forget, I guess.
The next morning I arrived at the police station alone. Everybody was already there. I knew what I was going to, but I couldn't avoid it. I didn't really care that much that moment. I was still numb inside, not sure if I wanted to be there. I just didn't know where else in the world I could be.
- "Hey, you guys are back from Galveston?"- I asked Morgan and (Y/N), trying to look cool. But neither of them looked happy.
- "First light this morning. Where were you?"- Derek asked as (Y/N) kept her eyes on the file she was reading.
- "I was out with a friend. I already told you"- I sat at the table and sipped my coffee.
- "I called you four times- (Y/N) murmured and kept reading. She didn't even want to look at me, obviously.
- "I didn't have any cell phone reception. So I didn't get your message until late."
I had practiced that excuse the whole way back from the hotel. It's what I had told Hotch when he called me earlier. But somehow, I knew it was going to be harder to bullshit (Y/N). Like she always says: "You can't bullshit a bullshitter."
- "Sure, whatever helps you sleep"- she simply answered and looked away.
I really didn't want to be there. I'm not good at dealing with (Y/N) mad at me. I swear I can take Morgan, or Hotch, even Gideon. But her? it physically hurt to see her ignoring me like that.
- "What's going on?"- I asked in the softest voice I could and looked at Morgan. He took a good look at me, frowning. And finally, he answered.
- "Our unsub is a woman"- ok, that was new.
- "We just found another body at the quarter,"- Hotch said, walking over us. And that was the end of the awkward meeting.
That was a miserable day. Morgan tried to talk to me about why I had missed the plane, why I hadn't answered my phone. Why I wasn't really talking with anybody. But I didn't want to explain what was happening to me. To make it worse, (Y/N) didn't even look at me for the rest of the day, and I never found the guts to walk to her room and apologize for being a jerk. Again. I wasn't sure what to do about anything anymore.
The night was eternal. I made my best not to use, and spent most of the time walking around the room. The only way I could find to use my mind was to write a letter. I wrote one to my mom. I always write to her. I also wrote one to (Y/N). It was long. I didn't know how to start. Then I didn't know how to stop. And then, I threw it out. It felt good to put my thoughts and feelings down on paper, but she could never read any of the things I wrote.
It was a good idea to write her a letter instead of talking face to face. I felt like a coward... to be fair, I was one. But I just couldn't find a way to tell her how I felt without being caught up with my own words. Maybe I could give it another try when my head was less overwhelmed. Maybe back home.
The case was over by the next day. We caught the unsub before she killed another victim, and I had time to visit Ethan before we left. That's where Gideon found me. I was sitting close to the stage, enjoying my friend's performance when he appeared and sat next to me.
- "How did you find me?"
- "You are not at all hard to profile"- he didn't even look at me. He just sat there in silence and enjoyed the music for a moment- "Your friend is good."
I wanted to tell him everything, but I didn't want him to know at the same time. To be fair, I was sure he already knew. We stayed in silence for a long while, I kept trying to find a way to tell him what was happening, but after a few minutes, the best I could do was:
- "I missed that plane on purpose."
- "I know"- of course he did. So I took a deep breath and tried my best to be honest.
- "I'm struggling"- and I meant everything: my life, my job, drugs. My mental sanity was nonexistent. I needed his advice. And that was the best (and only) way I thought I could get it.
- "Well, anybody who's been through what you've been through recently would"- his voice was soft and warm. He wasn't judging me, and that made me feel relieved. Obviously, he knew what I was talking about, but neither of us was going to say it.
- "It's all I was groomed for. I never even considered another option."
- "Now you are questioning whether or not you are strong enough to be here?"- I nodded and sighed. He was right.
- "Reid, I have been playing at this job in one way or another for almost thirty years. I've felt lost. I've felt great. I've felt scared, sick, and insane."
He looked at me and shrugged. I was fighting the tears back. I wouldn't have been the first time Gideon would see me crying, but I didn't want to scramble in front of him that day.
- "I guess the day this job stops gnawing at your soul and your hands stop feeling cold, maybe that's it's time to leave"
I gave his words a little thinking, trying to rearrange the thoughts inside my head. I was still confused and still lost, but there was something I knew.
- "I guess I just needed to try to figure out if I could step away from this job."
- "I'll never miss another plane again."
@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @svveet-peas @muffin-cup @shilohpug
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Next update: May 12th, 2021
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Back to the Navy Yard: Part 5
Sypnopsis: Being the daughter of Leroy Jethro Gibbs wasn’t easy, but you made it work . . .right up until you decide to break away from the “safe” life plan and join the FBI. When your father and the family you’ve made stops talking to you, you find a new one with the BAU. But years later, when murders connected to you and your father start popping up, you’re forced to examine the past along side your fiance and unit-chief Aaron Hotchner, and soon to be step son Jack. Really, your whole world is up in the air.
Notes: Eli David and Jackie Vance are both alive, also the timeline between Ziva and Tony was sped up, because slow burn is only good for so long.
You and Ziva had always had a unique bond. She’d seen you for the first time the night she had killed Ari. She’d been slumped down on the ground in front of the door to the basement, when you had wandered into the house. You’d been in your freshman year of college, and commuted to school while living at home. Your dad’s GI bill was paying your tuition and you weren’t going into debt just to live on campus.
There was something in your eyes, red and puffy, that made her think of Tali. That, perhaps, Tali would have grown up like you; happy and in love with life. You had gone to her, looked at her for a moment, and then down the stairs. Gibbs had still been staring at Ari’s body.
Your voice had been hesitant, “I’m sorry.”
Those two words had softened something in Ziva, because you had meant them. You had hated Ari for what he had done to Kate. You had considered the woman an older sister in a way, but you also knew the pain of losing a sibling. You had watched Kelly die in that car. And no matter how bad Ari had turned, he had still been her brother, and she had still loved him.
You had not shunned her, like the rest did. Instead, you often spent evenings by her desk doing homework, and talking about things that would have had your father stuttering: mainly more revealing clothes, boys, and sex. And Ziva had been so grateful for that connection; grateful to have you in her life. To her, you were pure, unworried by the world, and not exposed to its horrors. And that was why she had gone along with Gibbs’ plans; she didn’t want to worry about losing you or have that innocence erased from your eyes. She should have known better; you were more stubborn than Gibbs. So, having you come back into her life, engaged and with a step-son, that was a lot to swallow.
She kept her eyes moving as she entered the bull pen, at the first sight of Agent Hotchner, she planned to pounce, to interrogate him, and find out his every secret. You had good judgement, but she needed to be sure. She settled her bag at her desk, and it takes Tony three tries to get her attention, “What?”
Tony’s eyes go wide, “I just asked if you were okay?”
“No. Y/N is engaged. To Agent Hotchenr. She has a step son.”
There’s a lot of blinking from both him and McGee, before Tony smiles, “You’re messing with me, right? I spent all day with those BAU people, and I swear Hotchner never smiles. He’s all business. He’s . . . you’re not joking.”
“McGee! Start digging.”
Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe the meeting currently taking place. It’s one pm and you’re already on your second glass of wine. Dave had wisely chosen to go check the perimeter. Uncle Dwayne’s voice is a little high pitched, “Engaged! You’re not old enough to be engaged.” Your eyes flicker to your father; he hasn’t said anything in the hour and a half Leon and Dwayne have been ranting. It had started when they noticed your ring, and had only increased since they found out who it was.
“I’m twenty-nine and a federal agent. I’ve killed people. I think I’m allowed to get married.”
Your dad straightens at that, “Who the hell did you kill?”
“A serial killer.” He doesn’t need more information than that.
Uncle Leon nods, “That’s another thing, how are you going to raise a family with this man when you’re both away from home so much? You both travel all the time. That’s not good for kids!
You jump to your feet at that, and you stop a foot away, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t been there. You don’t know how we run our lives/”
He stares at you for a second before nodding, “You’re right. I crossed a line.”
“Everyone is crossing them.” You turn to face your dad, “You can’t cut contact for years and then expect to get a say in my life choices. Especially not through your friends.”
Your dad’s lips twitch, “How’d you know?”
“The first thing they did was search my hand for a ring, and from there they waited. It’s not hard to spot when you spend your days doing it to catch killers. Plus, you were too calm when you found out about Aaron.” Your phone buzzes and you answer without looking, “Shannon.”
“Ohhh that is not the sound of a happy kitty.”
“What’s wrong Garcia.”
There’s a moment of silence, and you know she can hear how stressed you are, “I found the picture. You were an adorable child, not that I had any doubt. I’m running traces on those who have viewed the article within the last five years. There’s a few from private IP addresses which check out for like ancestry trees, and it looks like her father looks at it a lot too, but I doubt he’s our guy. No sign of traveling or expenses. He teaches now.”
There’s a hint of a smile in her voice, “And what?”
“You have something, I know you Pen.”
“Yes you do. There’s one from an internet cafe in California, right down the road from the murder that happened there. I’m trying to get a list of users now, as well as footage from their security cameras, and the cameras on the surrounding streets. With any luck . . ?”
“You already told Aaron?”
“Via Chocolate Thunder. I did not, however, tell him that someone from NCIS is trying to hack his file.”
You spin to look at your father, “Someone at NCIS is trying to hack Aaron’s file?”
Your dad shakes his head, “Not me.”
You smirk, “Shut them down Pen. Crash their system. Show them why you’re the best.”
Vance actually groans, but Garcia is all smiles, “Ahhh and so the claws come out. Done and done hellcat.”
You grin and hang up, “Someone accessed the picture from an internet cafe a few miles from the crime scene in California. Garcia is trying to track them down.” You turn to face your dad, “Call Ziva and tell her I’m disappointed in her. Then tell McGee, that if he tries anything like that again, I'll unleash Garcia’s full wrath on him, and he’ll never be able to get near another computer again.”
You stomp outside, and find Dave smoking a cigar, “Seriously?”
“This from the woman who’s had two glasses of wine?”
You shrug, and turn to look at the trees, you can feel Dave studying you, “They’re concerned.”
“They lost the right to be concerned.”
“Nahh. From the way I hear it, that’s how parenthood works. You’re concerned for your kids until the day you die. Aren’t you that way with Jack?”
“I’d never stop talking to Jack, no matter what life choices he might make. I’m his Marmee.”
Dave pulls you in for a side hug and whispers, “You’re a good Marmee.”
You lean into him for a moment before saying, “It’s only been two days and I already miss them so much.”
He doesn’t say anything, there's nothing he can say.
Aaron is grumpy, and the thing is, he knows it. Throughout the day word had gotten out that the two of you were together. He’d been stopped no less than six times, and Gibbs’ team had taken to staring at him. Normally, that wouldn’t have meant a thing to him, but he was missing you and so was Jack. He’d been heartbroken when he realized you wouldn’t be home tonight, either. And at this point it would be a surprise if he was able to get home to see Jack himself. Still, he was doing a good job hiding it. Or, at least, no one on the team has said anything.
He’s sifting through evidence and files when Jess calls, the first thing he notes is the amount of terror in her voice, “Aaron.”
His back goes ramrod straight, “Jessica.”
“We’re okay, but when we got home the door was kicked in. I got us out of there, but . . .”
“Where are you?”
“The cafe down the street. Someplace public I thought. . .”
“Stay there and stay on the phone.”
He’s moving out of the conference room a second later, and barking out orders with Morgan on his six. He knows what this means, whoever this person is, they’re making you a target.
He’s the one to drive, he needs that control. By the time he pulls up, Metro PD is already there. He lets out a breath of relief before going to get Jack. The moment his son is in his arms, he knows what he needs to do.
He takes Jess to the side, “Jack and I are going to the safe house. My mistake last time was not being there, I’m not making it again. You’re welcome to come or I can station an agent with you.”
She reassures him, she’ll be fine. He sends the agents anyway, and goes to wait in the car with Jack. Once he’s distracted by the phone, and Aaron is certain his son is okay, he slips out of the car to find Derek there with bags of clothes and toys. “Haley’s name was written on the wall in paint. No bodies.”
Aaron swallows the lump in his throat, “The unsub wants us to know that he knows things about us. They want us to know that they’re in town.”
“You heading out?”
“Yeah. I need to be with my family. I’ll have my phone and a secure internet connection.
Y/N and I will consult from there. Also, check agent Gibbs house. There’s a chance the unsub went there. You won’t need a key or anything, Y/N said he always keeps it unlocked.”
“You got it. You want me to drive you guys?”
“I can do it.”
They leave with a handshake.
You know something is going on. Dave was on the phone, and Leon, Dwayne and your dad had been whispering to each other ever since. You corner him the moment he hangs up, making him jump.
“I’m going to get you a freaking bell if you keep doing that! Make noise when you walk.”
Your stomach drops when he tells you.
“This isn’t your fault.”
“He’s targeting me Dave.”
“No, he left a name at your house, in paint, and turned things over.”
“You said the alarm didn’t go off.”
He nods, “We’re looking into it, but why you’re here, maybe look for a new place? This one might be jinxed. Two serial killers?”
You slap at his chest, before running your hand through your hair, “The unsub went after my family Dave.”
“Yeah. It’s happened to us all at some point, and it’s not our fault. They’re sick, and look at it this way. Soon, you’ll have your boys.”
You cling to that thought, and spend the time waiting on the front porch. When the headlights flash, you let out a sigh of relief. And you make a mad dash towards the car. Jack is quick to jump out of his seat and into your arms, “Marmee!”
You hug him close, and you can’t help but think, you won’t be able to do this too much longer, he’s getting too big. Aaron’s arms wrap around the both of you a second later, and you take comfort in his scent. You tilt your head up and place a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
“I’m so sorry.”
He kisses the top of your head, “It’s not your fault. We’ll catch him, and we’re together. That’s what matters.”
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Mirror part viii (argue)
the penultimate chapter. i would be lying to you all if i said i havent been waiting for this chapter since starting the fic.
Angst incoming. So much angst.
part viii (argue)
link to ao3
(verb) persuade someone to do or not to do (something) by giving reasons
Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine
Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
Nothing's gonna take you from my side
Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby – Cigarettes After Sex
It was a missed call she ignored. That was where it started – an unknown number at 7am, leaving no message. Emily disregarded it with a shrug, assuming it had been a misdial. Aaron kissed her before the elevator doors opened fully, his last chance to bask in her presence before the workday started. This case was urgent, rapidly escalating as a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde took out their madness with guns and glee.
“Princess!” Penelope teetered towards her as she moved to the bullpen. “There’s a call for you. Sean McAllister?”
Emily felt it like lead in her stomach. Sean? Sean wouldn’t call her to catch up. Sean hated the way it ended, hated what they had asked her to do, he grabbed her arm at the end of it, left bruises with his fingers as he told her he was sorry, that they had asked too much. But Emily had been too arrogant, proud of the tendrils that had snaked through his organisation to hear the fear in his voice.
She exhaled the breath, tried to force the fear out of her skin, as if it wormed its way into her senses, the scent of freesia’s suddenly in the air. The case was fast and brutal. They took their fury out with bullets. A screeching car and gunshots signalled the end, messy and quick as the newlyweds died together, Bonnie and Clyde.
Aaron had accepted her explanation of getting a drink with an old friend. Emily felt the impulse to scream at him, her skin vibrating with unexplained nerves. She wanted him with her, was terrified of him meeting any part of her former life.
Sean looked the same. It surprised her that his grey hair had not spread further across his temples, inched further into his beard. When he wrapped his arms around her, she felt the familiar feeling he always gave her. Safety, protection, comfort.
“It’s good to see you” She lied, sliding into the booth, a gin and tonic already waiting in front of her.
“I had to be in DC anyway” he said, the gravel of his voice scraping against her nerves.
“Why?” she asked. She watched as he thumbed the coaster his Guinness was sitting on, avoiding her eyes.
“Ian Doyle vanished from prison.”
It hit her like a bullet. Emily knew this was a possibility. Knew from the day they dragged her from the villa, that one day, she would hear those words, would know their meaning, know what it meant. She had fallen so far, so fast in love with Aaron, built a life with him, a family, a home. And it had happened now. When she had so much more to lose.
“Interpol can’t find him” Another bullet.
“Am I in danger?” She asked finally, a plea.
“We all are” He confirmed.
She sat in her car for a long time. Watching the weather in the dark as it changed from clear to clouded to raining, the scream of fury in her chest. Aaron didn’t know. None of them knew. But Aaron didn’t know. He guessed some of it, a sideways glance each time he mentioned her posting in the Midwest a subtle nod to knowing that wasn’t the truth. But he had never asked her. Never questioned what she had done before the BAU. He asked about her childhood, about her travels, but never her job.
Emily had sat with the words perched on her tongue many times. It had been so long since she had thought about her time with Ian that it felt like a scene from someone else’s life. She had been so young. How had they let her do that, practically a child, full of arrogance and importance, and no idea the impact this could have on her future, the choices she would be forced to make.
She thought of Declan, safe and happy. His grades were steadily improving, an email from Louise once every couple of months updating her on his progress, no photographs. She had steered Aaron away from their neighbourhood unconsciously when they were searching for their house. It felt evil, like a noxious plant growing until it blotted out the sun.
She drove home in silence and saw the light in the living room still on as she walked up the front steps.
“You didn’t have to wait up” She greeted, Aaron in sweats on the couch. She heard him huff a small laugh as he gestured to the paperwork surrounding him, a lamp pointing at the multiple coded files. He leaned his head back on the couch as she looked over his shoulder, her hand absently trailing his shoulder. He tugged lightly on her shirt, drawing her down for a kiss.
“Worth waiting up for” He said smiling against her lips. It felt like a wound.
“Mmm” She agreed. “Where are we headed next?”
“Los Angeles probably” he said with a sigh as she took her coat off, hung it on the rack next to his. “Hey, why did you order flowers? I don’t bring you enough already?”
Emily froze, ice in her veins. “What?”
“The flowers you ordered. They’re in the kitchen” He looked up from his paperwork. “Are you okay?”
“Hm? Oh yeah, just tired.”
She knew what they would be. She knew what she would find. But it didn’t stop the blooms ripping air from her lungs, tearing her throat to shreds with a silent scream. Delicate paper. Lilac freesias. A warning.
“How was drinks by the way?” he called from the living room.
“Oh, good. It was nice to see Sean. His kids are growing up so fast”.
It was her first lie. She knew from the familiar taste on her tongue it would not be her last.
Emily wasn’t surprised that Derek noticed first. She was expending so much energy in hiding the anxiety from Aaron that she slipped, letting her guard down in his presence, allowing her mind to wander, a brief relief from the consuming nature of fear. She was wondering how long it would take Ian to contact her, knowing that it couldn’t be long. If he was in a position to send her flowers, to know her address, know where she lived, and who she lived with, she was already in danger. It brought her comfort knowing that he liked to play with his food – she knew she had some time to formulate a plan.
“What’s going on with you?” he was not gentle about his questioning, shocking her into silence.
“Derek” She said finally “Because I like you, I’m going to ask you not to do this”.
He didn’t drop it, not completely. She felt his eyes on her for the remainder of the case, his gaze soft as he analysed her, watched her movements, heard her inflections.
“Please stop it” She said finally, exhaustion at keeping her posture neutral finally getting to her.
“Tell me what’s wrong” He replied, folding his arms as he followed her to an empty room.
“Nothing is wrong, I’m fine.” She said, running a hand through her hair. Derek would be the worst of them. She could almost feel the betrayal he would exhibit when he found out. It felt inevitable at this point, that soon somehow, they would all know about Ian, about her past.
She was trying to decide how to tell them, what they could do, if they could even help. But living in the bubble of happiness she had created had softened her instincts, make her forget how delicate it was, and that no matter how much she wanted it to, it could not last forever.
“Is it Hotch?” He asked quietly. Of all their team members he asked the least. Emily knew some part of him still struggled with the idea of them as a couple, as supportive as he was.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“Well. You guys have been together for a long time. I know… well,I’ve been told at least, that… you can lose something over time, the shine going off the apple kind of thing. Is that what this is?” His tone was concerned, his eyes kind.
“No.” She said “No, God it’s nothing like that.”
“Are you sure, because I’ll support you, whatever you want to do…” It seemed to cost him a lot to say the words, sincere as they were. “If you want to… leave him”.
“Jesus, Derek. Absolutely not” Emily held her palm up, stopping his next words. “Yeah… you’re right. The shine does come off the apple over time. But… with him its like it just reveals better things waiting underneath.”
Derek smiled at her, reaching to wrap an arm around her shoulder as she leaned her head onto his, allowing herself to relax for the first time that day.
“I love Aaron. I felt like I was always supposed to love him, somehow? He’s the best thing that ever happened to me… I didn’t think… I would ever be so lucky as to find something like this. I don’t deserve him” She let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding.
“You deserve all the happiness in the world princess. If he makes you happy… you don’t have to be afraid of that. Is that what’s scaring you? The future?” Derek chucked her under the chin, offering her a brilliant smile.
Emily closed her eyes, her imagination offering her eyes of cerulean blue, a lilted accent, rough fingers as they tugged on strands of her hair, ringing a bell.
“When I think of my future” She said, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. “All I see is him”.
Emily could still hear the smile in Tsia’s voice. Halfway across the world, she still heard happiness that threaded through each syllable, each smile that crinkled her eyes in a way that made Emily return the smile without conscious thought. They had bonded, fiercely and fast during their time together with JTF-12. When it was decided that Emily should be the one to go undercover, Tsia had lightened her hair in the hotel bathroom, a bottle on the sink as she asked her if she was afraid.
“Lauren Reynolds is dead” She repeated, chanting the words like a prayer.
Emily had no part in that aspect of the mission. She had been dragged from the villa, uninformed and confused as men in uniforms bruised her upper arms with their grip. It had been Sean who greeted her, eyes crinkled with kindness as he wrapped her in a hug, brushed her face with thich and gentle fingers, told her she was going home.
Clyde, Tsia and Jeremy had taken care of the aftermath while Sean debriefed her. Sat with her in a hotel room and recorded hours of conversation, wrung her dry like a cloth until she was exhausted, every memory she had of a false life spilled forth into a tape recorder, to be typed and filed and labelled, awaiting a trial she knew would never come. Sean had switched the recorder off and leaned to her, his hands warm on hers.
“Did you love him?” he asked.
“Of course not” She had answered, the first lie she had ever told about Ian.
Emily wasn’t sleeping. Aaron felt her rigid next to him in their bed, the way she picked her cuticles under the covers, a secret shame. She had been distracted for days, hiding it successfully from most of the team as her eyes grew more bloodshot, her grip on things became a little tighter.
“Honey” he whispered into the dark. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing” too quick. Her reply was too quick as he rolled into her, reaching to place his hand over hers stilling her thumb as it attacked her fingernails ruthlessly.
He splayed his palm wide across her stomach, staying quiet as he listened to her let out shaking breaths, a response teetering on her tongue, anticipation on her teeth.
“Drinks with Sean” She said finally. “He… uh. We used to work together. Brought back some memories.”
“In the Midwest?” he asked.
“Yeah” She sighed.
“You can’t tell me about it?”
“Not unless you’re interested in going to federal prison, or… maybe being charged with war crimes? I’m not sure but, statute isn’t up on it for a long time” It was the most honest she had ever been with him about her time with Interpol, still so far from the truth.
“You saw some things” He said.
“And did some things” She ventured cautiously. She heard him nod next to her, the scrape of his cheek on the pillow as he slipped his hand further around her, drawing her into his embrace as he buried his face in her neck, planting soft kisses on her shoulder. It made her eyes sting with tears she couldn’t explain.
“Is there anyone you can talk to about it?” He asked softly, nosing at her jaw. “If you can’t talk to me, I mean”.
“Not really. The group I was working with sort of scattered in the aftermath, I wouldn’t really know how to get in touch with them”
He nodded again, feeling her arms creep to encircle his, drawing distracted patterns on his forearms.
“I love you” He said into her hair. “Whatever you did back then. It brought you here”
Emily hoped he didn’t notice the tears slipping into her pillow.
He was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her as she got coffee in the morning, walked the steps from her car to the office building. Each turn of her in the front door felt like a whip, as though she was leading him to her soft spots, the places that would hurt her the most. She hugged Jack a little tighter each morning, relented when he begged for sugared cereal, wanting only his happiness.
With Aaron, she felt as though she was constantly trying to apologise. She brought him breakfast, coffee, crawled beneath his skin each night as though she would never get the chance again, living each breath as though a sniper was on her, waiting for the order to shoot.
It took her eight days to relent. She used a vague excuse, which Aaron accepted without question, his brow only slightly furrowed as she kissed him goodbye, promised to be back later.
She tipped the bourbon into the coffee cup until it smelt the same, the way he took it on weekend mornings and waited, knowing he was coming, knowing it would only be a matter of time. It used to make her laugh, the Irishman who preferred bourbon to whiskey, now it made her sick.
His hand on her neck made her skin crawl. Alive with a thousand needles as he sat across from her, his face weathered, the eyes emptier than she remembered.
She switched the safety off her weapon without thinking, aiming it directly beneath the table as pedestrians flitted in and out of her vision, all of them in danger.
“Hello Ian” She said, her voice even. “You’re losing your touch – I’ve known you were here for weeks. You shouldn’t have sent me flowers.”
“But you used to love flowers Little Dove” he said, taking a sip of the coffee, tilting it to her with an appreciative nod.
“Why are you here?”
“To watch your death” He said it as casually as though he were discussing a movie, a book he loved once. Two friends over coffee. “Come here”
Emily didn’t move.
“Dove, if I wanted you dead right now, what would have stopped me from walking into that beautiful house of yours and strangling you in your sleep?” He asked, holding his hand out to her. She slowly put the gun in her handbag, still within reach as she stood, taking his hand.
“Walk with me” His voice was soft, longing as he curled hair over the shell of her ear, the softest touch. “I liked it better lighter.”
“You liked someone who wasn’t me, Ian. I was doing my job” She said, trying to keep the revulsion from her voice as he slid his arm around her shoulders, started them on a gentle meandering loop around the plaza they were in, seeming like a couple to any onlookers.
“Oh, you certainly did a job all right” He said, turning to whisper in her ear. “Don’t know if anyone has ever made my toes curl like that, Little Dove, was that written as part of your assignment?”
“Don’t be disgusting” She spat.
“Why? Because you liked it too? I remember you in the mornings, you used to be insatiable. Are you like that now, with Aaron?”
“Don’t. Speak. His. Name” Emily felt her hand twitch towards her weapon, the urge to shoot him where he stood overwhelming all of her senses.
“Because I’ll ruin how you scream it? I’ve been watching the house Dove, you two can’t seem to get enough of each other. Quite inventive actually. With a child in the house.”
It was ice in her veins. Confirmation of what she suspected, the things she knew. She turned into his arm, pulling her gun from her handbag, jabbing it hard between his ribs. To onlookers they looked like lovers, wrapped in the others tender embrace.
“If you come near my family, I will kill you” Emily hissed.
Ian smoothed a rough hand across her brow, tangling it at the base of her scalp as he tugged, hard enough to force her eyes to meet his. Ice blue and empty, a frozen wasteland.
“Little Dove, you don’t understand. You’re going to kill yourself” He whispered, his lips brushing hers, soft and gentle and something from a memory, déjà vu of a past life she could never escape from.
When he resumed walking with her, she was trembling. Beneath the layers she knew he could feel it, the fear running through her body like a locomotive, uncontrolled and confused as she processed his words.
“Here’s how this works Emily. You took away the only thing that mattered to me. I’m going to make you take away the only thing that matters to you. Your life. I’ll kill every single one of them. I think snapping Derek’s neck, shooting Dave and Ashley, Penelope we will take our time with, I know her screaming will get to you most. I think I want the pleasure of beating Aaron to death with my hands – just like he did to that Foyet fellow. That boy of yours will get a bullet to the face just like mine did”.
Emily tensed in his grasp.
“Unless, Little Dove, you take the pleasure away from me. I know the profile, I get off on seeing people suffer, I’m methodical and patient and inhuman, I read those words in your handwriting. You know everything about me. You know I won’t stop until I get what I want.”
He chuckled, pulling her firmer into his embrace.
“I know you want to shoot me right now Dove. I can feel it in your bones, but you know as well as I do that you wouldn’t make it two steps from my corpse before they take you. And what about the others? Not understanding how quickly you got them killed. It would be like you didn’t even try to save them. And I am going to enjoy watching you try.”
They were at her car, his slow gait bringing them there without her realising it.
“Don’t do this Ian.” She said, finally putting voice to the fear she had been swallowing for weeks.
“But I have to, Little Dove. I have to” Ian kissed her cheek, his skin rough against her as she closed her eyes, a stamp on the death warrant she had written in Italy.
“So, fly away, I know you won’t tell them. I know you can’t live with them knowing what Lauren Reynolds did.” He kissed her other cheek. “But I know who you really are”.
His lips were soft when they met hers, but her body remained rigid as he cupped her face, let his tongue swipe once across her lip. He left with a smile, tossed casually over his shoulder, as if he had not brought her world to crash at her feet.
She called Clyde the minute she got in the car.
Emily didn’t come home. Aaron waited, perching himself on the couch as he absently slipped through paperwork, the news talking of an incoming storm, due to hit in a few days, wipe out the power. He checked the time, constantly wondering where she was, what was wrong.
She was lying to him. He knew she was, and he had convinced himself until this moment that he was okay with it. That her deception did not carve at pieces of him like a surgeon’s knife, flip the skin back to reveal wounds he thought were long healed. She had been distracted and guilty since her drink with the old co-worker. Briefly, he wondered if it was something more. If there had been love there, once, and seeing them again had ignited that same flame.
Without permission, he thought of Hayley. Of the way she had successfully hidden an affair for months, Aaron oblivious to all but her waning love for him. He felt his jaw clench. Emily had been guilty, bringing him breakfast, coffee, running her fingers through his hair at every opportunity. He could feel her watching him, words caught in her throat.
He was afraid. He thought to ask her was to lose her, permanently. And as much as he tried to over the course of the first night, they had spent apart in over a year, he could not imagine his life without her. She spoke the world into existence for him, brought him back from the brink of self-destruction with kind words and an open heart and no obligation to do so.
He couldn’t lose her; it was not an option. He sat in the darkness, the tv flickering shadows across his features as Sergio jumped into his lap, purring softly. They had built a life together, his son loved her more than he could have ever expected, she brought him joy and happiness he had not thought possible in the wake of Hayley’s murder.
He watched as the sky changed through the night, the earth still spinning on its axis as he existed in purgatory, knowing somehow, that wherever she was signalled the end, and not being able to accept it.
She didn’t arrive home for breakfast, did not appear in the bullpen when he did, but rushed in shortly after they had gotten the call, a family annihilated in Virginia, home turf for a change. She hadn’t slept, he could tell from looking at her, and she radiated an anxious, twitching energy he recognised from the times she had been forced to shoot a suspect. She did not meet his eyes.
She came to his office. Approached him with caution, a wounded dog liable to bite.
“Where were you?” He asked, resigned to hearing the lie.
“With some old work friends, Aaron I’m sorry, I got… carried away catching up and I didn’t call, and I’m sorry”.
“Didn’t call? Em, you didn’t come home.” He watched as she bit her lip, could see the wheels turning in her mind.
“Don’t bother trying to lie. I know something is going on with you. I recognise the signs remember?”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked, fear pooling in her belly, oily and hot as she broke out in a sweat.
“If there is someone else. Tell me now, make it easier” He said, gripping his hands on the desk so hard his knuckles whitened. He hated knowing if it was true, it would kill him.
“There isn’t.” She said, her voice flat. “I would never… I could… how could you think that?”
He met her eyes, and saw that they were filled with tears, betrayal etched through her features as she turned, walked out of his office, going to join Morgan at the scene.
He did not speak to her that day, when he got home, she wasn’t there. He had not expected her to be. A few hours sleep was all they were allotted before being called to another scene, another family, ties so loosely binding the two as they threw all their energy into a situation that was rapidly spinning out of control.
Penelope found her next. Her head always so full of worry at the team, she focused directly on Emily as she grabbed her, dragged her into an alcove as she tried to squirm away.
“What’s going on?” She demanded.
“Pen, I don’t have time…” Emily started, trying to move away as Penelope gripped her arm tighter.
“Don’t you dare. You were shot at, and it rattled you. More than I’ve ever seen you rattled. Why?”
“Because I’m not usually shot at with automatic weapons with absolutely no warning Pen. Seriously I’m fine”
Penelope grabbed her, pulling her into a crushing hug as she clasped her hands behind her back, held her firm against her.
“I know something is wrong with you. We can all tell, but whatever it is we can deal with it together, okay? You’re family, you’re my family and I hate seeing you like this. Please, just let us help.”
The tears, when they came, were hot on her cheeks as she patted her back awkwardly. It was raw like a nerve, the force of Penelope’s love as she swung her slightly in her embrace, comfort given without being asked for, a kindness she didn’t feel she deserved.
“I’m okay, seriously, I’m just. Emotional for some reason” Emily said finally, pulling herself away from Penelope’s embrace with effort.
“Are you pregnant?” Penelope asked, her voice low.
“What? No. No. definitely not.” She pulled further back. “I’m not… We’re not even… No. Definitely not”.
“Okay” Penelope said, nodding in a way that made her think she did not quite believe her. “I’m so glad you’re safe honey, I love you so much”.
She watched as Penelope walked away, a sense of loss settling deep in her bones, knowing she was going to lose them, all of them, somehow.
Tsia was tiny in death. Her face looked almost peaceful; the bullet wound a gory stamp on the end of her life. She was running, Emily had told her to run, and this had been the result. Guilt was acidic. Eating her from the inside until she vomited on the curb, the few sips of water she had forced herself to take spilling forth, burning her from the inside out.
“Can you take me home?” She pleaded with Derek, her eyes shining from the force of it, still rolling in her stomach like a threatening wave. “I need to change”.
“Sure.” He said, his hand rubbing small circles on her back. “Sure”
She thought about it as he wound through streets. Ian was not going to stop, was never going to stop hunting her. Tsia was the first, the casualty of a war she started, that only she could finish. She would not cow to his demands, debase herself by giving him exactly what he wanted. But she could not run from him. Instead, she could run towards him, blanket him with rampage and fury and hope that she could take him down with her – that she could grab him as she threw herself off the cliff. Neat in its ending. It had started with them, why should it not end the same way.
As far as she could tell he did not yet know about Declan, but the more time he was in the states, the more time he spent watching her, hunting her, was more opportunities for him to find out. He would drag that boy from his safe and comfortable life and ruin him, piece by piece until he grew up to be just like his father. Because that is what Ian wanted.
Obliteration, annihilation. Those were his only goals, his consuming thoughts, it was what drove his every waking moment, his every thought and prayer was designed only to bring others suffering and pain. And now it had landed on her doorstep.
When they pulled into her driveway, she felt the melancholy wash over her, Morgan saying he would wait here for her, his hands folded in his lap.
Emily took her time as she walked through their home. She trailed a finger through dust on a picture frame, marvelling that they had had enough time here to be this happy for so long. That she could see the passage of time, the entwinement of their lives in this home. Jack’s shoes in a haphazard pile on the floor, construction paper on the coffee table, scribbled drawings.
She put her palms on the back of the couch and remembered each time she had come home after Aaron. He would be waiting for her, not accusatory or angry, but simply incapable of not greeting her. He would tilt his head, smile as the curtain of her hair obscured his face when she kissed him. If they were alone, he would often tug her harder, encourage her to tumble into his waiting embrace.
There was a grocery list on the fridge. Aaron had added to it the night before, the night she had not returned home. They needed bread; she did not know that. She saw breakfast dishes still in the sink and resisted the urge to wash them, knowing the need to say goodbye quickly, speed through each memory she desperately wanted to savour.
She threw their clothes in the wash. His sleep clothes and hers, mixed with a days’ worth of work wear as she changed her clothing, dressed comfortably, a coat with many pockets.
She wondered if she could leave a note. If words in her chicken scratch would be comforting, or a question left unanswered for the rest of his life was better. Aaron would know soon enough, the worst of it. Uncertainty and fear gripped her as she walked into the bathroom, switched the faucet to boiling as she brushed her teeth, watching as the mirror obscured her reflection with steam. Without thinking, she reached a shaking finger to draw a love heart in the corner. Something he could remember her by.
She took his pillow, hugged it to her chest and breathed the scent of him in. Aaron smelt like safety, like home. She felt she would have given all the time left to her to hold him again, to feel him wrap his arms around her, envelop her with his scent, obliterate her senses. Instead, she forced herself to stand. Reaching into her nightstand she pulled her passport out, leaving it deliberately so he would know she had not run, that she had left not out of cowardice but need.
Sergio was asleep on Jack’s bed. Sprawled in the afternoon sun he did not stir when she entered the room. Unthinking, Emily picked up toys, returned them to shelves, straightened his room the way she knew he liked it. She kissed the top of Sergio’s head, hearing his confused mewl and stood, turning to leave when she saw it.
Resting on Jack’s pillow was an envelope. Yellowed and thick it was misshapen, clearly holding objects within it. Emily didn’t know why he would have it, where it would fit in this room and so she lifted it, noting that it was not sealed. With a hand still trembling she opened it, tipping its contents into her palm.
Petals from a lilac freesia, wilting, fluttered around her fingertips. A polaroid followed. The last object landed in her palm unnoticed as she stared at the picture. Fear constricted her lungs, held her closer than a lover as she heard each beat of her heart, felt it rush to the tips of her fingers.
Jack slept soundly in the photograph. His face gentle with sleep, a lock of hair curling across his brow the same way it did Aarons, exactly the same in all but colour. He had his face pressed into his favourite toy, a plush dinosaur that was now tucked into the covers, awaiting his return from school.
A disembodied hand, weathered in a way she recognised from its gentle exploration of her body, holding a gun to Jack’s sleeping face.
Aaron noticed she was missing within two minutes of ending the briefing.
“Where did she go?” he demanded, rounding on Derek with a fury that surprised him.
“I don’t know. She was with me when we got here, but I don’t know” He said, holding his palms up.
Ian Doyle. The name sounded familiar, and he searched his memory for it as he called her phone, hearing the way it rang in his ear like a laughing taunt. The memory came to him without warning.
“Have you ever been in love?” They were hiding beneath the sheets of her apartment. It was still new this thing between them, new enough that he could ask questions like that and feel his face burn, as though he was cutting himself open to be with her.
“Once” She admitted. “It didn’t end well”.
She was beautiful in this way, her face so expressive in the filtered light, her hair wild across her shoulders. He kissed her, he couldn’t stop kissing her, the pull of her undeniable as he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip, cupped her jaw, trailed a hand down ribs that shook with ticklish laughter.
“I know you have” She answered when he finally pulled away from her, her own hands sliding beneath his shirt, massaging his lower back. “Just once?”
“So far” he said, watching the way her face twitched, a smile hidden behind hope. He smiled when he kissed her then, pressing lips that could not stop grinning into hers.
“What happened?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“He loved me. But I was… in it for the wrong reasons” her words were carefully chosen. “So, I had to leave. But… I did love him” It sounded like a confession.
“I’m sorry” he said automatically.
“Don’t be. He wasn’t a very good guy, was in fact, a very bad guy” She said, winding her arms around his neck as she draped her leg across his hip.
“What was his name, in case I ever come across him?” Aaron asked, rapidly losing focus as her lips connected with his neck.
“His name was Ian. But you’ll never meet him.” She said, tangling fingers in his hair.
Aaron left the BAU office without another word. His face had turned white at the memory, realisation and implications of it all crashing over him until he felt like he was drowning. How had she possibly hidden this for so long? How had this secret, the only one she had ever kept from him, not clawed its way from her throat, a savage beast. How could she think he would care?
He drove recklessly, horns following him as he wound through streets he had not travelled in a long time, knowing exactly where she was, and hoping he had enough time to catch her.
Her apartment had not been rented. She had said something about the market, the location keeping it empty for so long, but as he strode the stairs to find her door yawning open, he knew the truth. She had kept it for this secret.
Emily had her back to him, a file, yellowed and dusty was spread across her kitchen counter. He saw blurry photographs as he watched her shoulders shaking with silent tears. He saw the necklace, ornate twisted gold off to the side.
“I was right. There is someone else”.
She had her weapon drawn and trained at him before he finished speaking. When she saw it was him, she let out a broken sound, one that ripped his insides to shreds. She looked so afraid, reckless and ragged. All jagged edges.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said as she lowered her gun. He noticed her slip one of the polaroids into her pocket, her brain still on high alert.
“I couldn’t” She said. “You couldn’t know. Nobody could. He was supposed to be locked up in Russia. But they put him in that place in North Korea. And they didn’t do their fucking jobs properly and he bribed a guard to escape and now he’s here”.
She tightened her hand around the bag she was carrying and started moving, determination on her face as she moved to sidestep him. He grabbed her, knowing it was too tight as he pulled her into him, forced her to yield against his embrace. He could sense it, the finality in her tone, the way she had already made up her mind.
He could not make her understand, for words alone were not enough to encompass everything she meant to him. He could not let her leave, because he knew, she would never come back. That this was a suicide mission in all but name, that she was leaving him to die for him and he could not let that happen.
“Please don’t do this.” He heard the tears in his own voice now. “Please don’t leave.”
His arms were like a vice around her, crushing her into his chest. The break in his voice was killing her, wounds opened across her soul as she let her tears stain his shirt, breathed deep sobs into his skin, felt his hands tighten around her further.
“Please” and he heard the breath it tore from her, scared and ragged and helpless.
Emily couldn’t think straight. The smell of him making her head swim, so warm and present and real. Memories of each time he had made her feel safe, loved, appreciated. Each time she had made him laugh. But Ian’s eyes were cold and dangerous, and it was his voice she heard as she twisted her fist in his shirt. Visions of Tsia with a bullet in her head, a blue flower. The bullet sitting like a weight in her pocket. The polaroid.
She pushed him. Hard enough for him to stumble backwards, for her to make her strides to the door, still yawning open.
“Emily” he called. And his voice was death personified, lifeless, colourless. She stilled as she met his eyes.
“If you walk out that door, I’ll never forgive you”
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A Unexpected Outcome
derek morgan x reader
fluff and angst
TW: mention of murders, shooting, blood, stuff you would see in a criminal minds episode
Summary: you and the team travel to Illinois for a case, it’s a very difficult one and has a unexpected outcome
It was a long week, saying long was nicely putting the horrible feeling. When you and the team arrived to Illinois, knowing that their was a serial killer, you weren’t ready for the ending product.
The first body was found in a field in Woodford, the poor girl was tied up, a bullet went through her neck, cutting off her air and therefore killing her. That was the cause of death.
She was younger, early twenties, and had only been missing for two days. Two weeks earlier they found a woman named Louis Garner who was in the same position and died the same way.
The real eerie thing was the position, both woman had their knees to their chest, wrists tied up in front of their knees. Feet both bided together, head down. Like the unsub felt he had power with the position he murdered them in.
That’s what you profiled, he felt more dominance with killing these woman in a position they would go into when vulnerable and petrified. They weren’t binded into this position till afterwards, but the way they had scratches on their legs from tripping or scratching something, it made you and your team wonder what they were doing to get those.
“What if he’s playing hide and seek?” Emily wondered. You, Reid, Morgan, Emily, and Hotch were all currently at the police station in Woodford. In a conference room with all of your photos and files scattered around.
“Hide and a seek, it’s a game children play. It can be used for scarier purposes, you are supposed to hide from the person and would hate to be found. Most of the time when you hide, you’ll curl yourself up,” Reid went on, explaining the game even though you all had a idea on what it was.
“That’s where they get these little scratches the coroner was mentioning, she said they could be from scraping a leg on the side of a chair,” Morgan pointed out.
“He’s letting them hide, they put themselves into a position like that and he kills them. Maybe drags them out afterwards. What if he had to hide and almost died when he was a child. Possibly abusive parent,” You wondered, spitting out some ideas.
“Garcia, look up men who live in the area. They would be white, in mid thirties to forties, maybe got out into the foster care system because of abusive parents,” Hotch commanded the girl after he dialed the number.
“Right, o, mundo. Isn’t lowering it too much, still around 1,000 names left on the list,” She told them, they could hear the clacking of the keys.
“Rossi and JJ are currently with some officers looking at the recent body they found this afternoon, maybe we can get a better idea on who this guy is,” Morgan hoped.
The two agents looked at the third body, it was clear he was devolving a bit and would go after his real target soon, but who knew what would happened after that.
“Hey Hotch,” JJ greeted the man, her and Rossi inside the car and on the way to the station.
“What did you see?”
“He’s devolving,” Rossi piped up, driving. “This time her eyes were glued shut, she died the same way, and was only sixteen,”
“Okay, we’ll see you when you get back,” Hotch mentioned, soon ending the call.
The recent, third, victims name was Lilly Fulborne and she was Marshall, not far from Woodford. Her family just thought she was sleeping at a friends house but when this teenager didn’t arrive home they realized it was something worse.
“So, age doesn’t matter to him, well younger but still mature,” Emily commented.
“Gender is important to him,” Morgan reminded them.
“What if he had a abusive sister?” You wondered. “These woman all had younger siblings. Maybe the unsub grew up with a sister who had anger issues,”
“The sister fights with parents, younger brother looks up to her and asks to play, she takes it out on him,” Morgan spoke.
“What if she played Hide-and-seek with him, and this was how she indulged in her problems. She gave into him wanting to play and it ended like this, he now wants revenge,” Emily added.
“Garcia, look for those men with older sisters, ones who were sent away when they were in childhood to a type of mental facility,” Hotch commanded the woman.
“Okay, got it! We have a Brandon Lunar, thirty four and has a older sister. Her name is Francis Lunar and was sent away when she was fourteen to a mental facility nearby their childhood home in Peoria. Parents said she would fight with them often and took out anger on younger brother,” Garcia revealed, reading the sheet on her computer.
“Home and work address,”
“Sending them to your phones right now,”
“Where is the sister currently living?” Reid asked.
“She still lives at their... childhood home,” Garcia told them.
“Send that address too,” Hotch said, then hanging up. “Okay, JJ and Rossi are near the work place, Morgan, Prentiss and I will go to the home, Reid and L/n you head to the childhood home,” Hotch commanded, soon all of them running to their vehicles.
JJ and Rossi had neared the work place, him working at a car garage which gave him access to the material he was using to tie the woman up.
“Brandon Lunar?” Rossi and JJ walked carefully into the garage, a man putting his hands up. “Where’s Brandon Lunar?” Rossi asked the man who was just cleaning a wrench.
“He didn’t show up today, called to take a sick day,” He told them.
“Hotch, he’s not here,” JJ called Hotch who was now nearing his home.
“Got it,” The three agents at his home quickly made it to the front door. “Brandon Lunar? FBI,”
Derek kicked down the front door of the one leveled home and they split up. Hotch checked the kitchen, finding it to be empty. Prentiss headed into the bedroom and was appalled with the photos she found of his sister scattered around.
“Come and take a look at this!” She called out to the other two who cleared the home. “He definitely has been thinking about his sister these years,” She pointed to the photos printed with ‘x’s and other cruel drawings on them, some of them having a knife through it.
You and Reid had just made it to the old family home. It looked pretty normal on the outside, but why wouldn’t it? People do love their images.
One thing you spotted before going inside was one of those toy cars kids would drive around in. Maybe something Francis never got rid of from her childhood? But it seemed newer.
“Francis Lunar? FBI,” Reid had his hand on his gun, and slowly made his way into the home. You were right behind him, gun cocked and loaded, looking around for Francis and hearing faint sniffles.
Reid slowly opened the closet and pointed his gun on both sides, coming across the woman who was huddled inside, tears streaming down her face.
“My-my daughter, Kate, she’s-she’s hiding,” The woman sniffled while Reid bent down to try and help her out of the closet.
You moved further, walking into the back hallway where bedrooms were. You took a glance in the master bedroom, seeing nothing too suspicious in there. You were able to hear louder crying from a bedroom two doors down, decorated in a more boyish way, you assumed it was originally Brandon’s.
“Brandon Lunar?” You slowly walked into the room to see him with a gun pressed to the head of the teenage girl. “Let her go,” You told him, watching the girl shake in fear.
Her eyes were wide, tears flooding down her eyes and feet on their tip toes. It looked like she was almost hanging off the ground. He had a tight grip over her neck and a tighter grip on the gun that was pressed to the side of her head. You caught Brandon’s eyes that were becoming glossed over.
“You don’t want to do this Brandon. It’s your sisters fault you had such a bad childhood, not hers,” You stepped a little closer, the man still, his eyes not leaving yours. “Francis should’ve never hurt you, you deserve better,”
“She-she had a child! A child! She got to move on and have a happy life, I was stuck with it! Stuck with her yelling and beating and my parents just covering it up,” He yelled, moving the gun around a bit. Spencer soon came into the room and kept eyes on the little girl, his gun also aimed at Brandon.
“Brandon, you still have time to have a different life, but you have to let her go,” Reid mentioned, slowly stepping into the room.
“Stay back!” He yelled, his finger pressing dangerously close to the part of the gun that would fire it. “I’ll- I’ll only talk to her!” He yelled, Spencer steeping out of the room.
“Okay, Brandon, it’s just us,” You smiled softly at him, slowly moving your gun away. “Just look at me,” You caught his attention. “She is so scared, like you were, you don’t want her to feel that way, right?”
“N-no,” He muttered, taking a quick glance at the girl. “But if Francis lives, she’ll feel what I feel,”
“How dare you say that!” Francis screamed, outside of the door by Spencer, who was now trying to tell her to stay back.
That’s when you noticed something click in his brain, the tears stop, the subtle trembling of his mouth from voicing and remembering these bad memories of his childhood, return back to normal. It was noticeable that Brandon now didn’t have the same remorse for the little girl and you knew you needed to think fast.
“Let her come in, I want to tell her something before you let me go,” Brandon spoke, voice even, you all could hear the sirens getting closer to the house. He kept his grip of the girl and Spencer reluctantly let the woman in. “I want her to see,” You didn’t really register what happened at first, shooting your gun at his chest, a few shots rung out.
Your fellow FBI agents made it to the house, rushing in with their guns aimed and eyes wide at the scene before them in the old bedroom. You dropped to your knees, and watched the man let go of the little girl, both falling to the ground. Three guns dropped to the floor.
Spencer rushed by Francis and kicked the gun away, pulling out his handcuffs and cuffing the young woman. JJ and Rossi rushed over to Brandon and the young girl, feeling their pulse.
More police rushed in, and one of them helped you up onto your feet, guiding you out the door and to the ambulance before Morgan, Hotch, and Prentiss showed up, rushing towards the house and not even noticing you getting out into the ambulance.
You didn’t really notice them, you didn’t even notice your gun wound at first. You moved your hands to your left shoulder, clutching it. The policeman soon noticed it, his eyes widening and calling out to some medics to help get you into the vehicle.
Francis was getting escorted out by Spencer and put into the back of a cop car. Spencer then noticed you and rushed over. It seemed like he was yelling your name, telling them to wait, but the ambulance left without him and you were soon hooked up to IVs and different types of medicines.
“What happened?” Hotch asked, people coming into the room and taking the body of Brandon and a officer helped the young girl out, whose name was Lauren.
“Where’s Y/n?” Emily questioned, looking around.
“She got shot, I tried to go with her in the ambulance but I was too late. I didn’t even realize-“ Spencer started to ramble a bit.
“She was shot?” Derek questioned, eyes widening. “Was it bad, we need to go, which hospital are they taking her too?”
“Wait,” Hotch put a hand on his shoulder.
“Brandon seemed like he was going to let the girl go. He said something how Francis would do the same to her daughter and she came by me yelling she wouldn’t. I tried to keep her back but Brandon asked for her to come in, saying he would then let the girl go. He said another thing I couldn’t make out and the shots rang,”
“It looks like Francis tried shot Brandon and he quickly let go of the girl and tried to shoot what he thought was Francis,” JJ commented.
“But it was actually Y/n and Y/n must have seen how he was going to shoot the girl and also shot at him,”Rossi put together.
‘I’m going to the hospital,” Derek interrupted, shaken up by the fact he couldn’t be with his girlfriend till now. “I need to go,”
“I’ll go with,” Emily mentioned, following the rushing Derek out the door and into his car. The were able to figure out, thanks to Garcia, which hospital you were being taken to.
By the time they got there, the doctor told them it wasn’t anything too severe and that you were in one of the rooms, guiding the two agents to you.
“Y/n,” Derek breathed out, pulling up a chair right next to your side and taking a hold of your hand. “I’m so glad you’re okay,”
“Just sore,” You whisper, staring at your hands that were resting in your lap.
“I’ll go tell everyone it’s not a bad injury,” Emily excused herself, sending you a small smile.
It was a hard case, the woman reminded you of a younger you. It already hit a bit harder because you had a younger brother at home. A part of you felt bad for Brandon, he deserved a sibling that would take on that true older sibling role and look after their younger one.
“How is the little girl doing?”
“She’s alright, her name is Lauren and she’s going back to the station to see if a grandma can get her,” Derek mentioned, he slide onto the bed and laid down beside you, lightly pulling you into his side so you could rest your head on his chest.
“Ah, right,” You were quiet for a minute, your hand instinctively moving to rub your stomach a little bit.
“Are you hungry?”
“No,” You shook you head, rubbing your eyes a bit with the uninsured arm. “A bit tired,”
“Why are you rubbing your stomach?”
“Um,” You didn’t know what to say, your eyes widened.
“Der, I didn’t want to tell you right after a case, I wanted to make a cake and tell you that easy way,”
“You’re pregnant,” He gasped, eyes watering a bit. “I’m going to be a dad,”
“Yeah,” You chuckled, feeling something wet drip down your cheek.
“Now i’ve got a baby mama, and a hot one at that. Y/n, this is great! I’m going to be a dad!” He exclaimed, hands moving to rub your stomach.
“You better not be leaving me now,” You joked.
“Never, I love you too much,” He kissed your lips, deepening it. Derek felt so overjoyed that he was going to have a new addition to his family and felt determined to do a great job at his new title. “You know, Garcia is going to want to be a big part of this,”
“Let’s not tell the team, just yet, wait till i’m showing,”
“You have to be more careful on the field now, only paperwork,” Derek put a little finger in your face, acting stern, but then removing it and placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah, whatever,” You rolled your eyes, and he cupped your cheeks in his hand.
“I can’t wait to do this with you, my sexy baby mamma,”
“This just means I’m gonna want a ring soon,” You smiled up at him and he winked at you.
“Oh don’t you worry about that one,”
This case was hard, and the outcome was defiantly unexpected, on both ends.
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As Flies to Wanton Boys
Are we to the gods. They kill us for sport.
Notes: Just some fluff. Platonic Hotch & Reid fluff with some not at all platonic Mortch thrown in for my own viewing pleasure. This is completely self-indulgent. Not really any warnings, unless you hate domestic soft Hotch, then look away. ~3400 words
It was barely summer and the breeze carried the briny scent of the river over the amphitheater where hundreds of people mingled and gathered on the fresh cut lawn eagerly awaiting a show. There were other smells on the breeze, sugary sweet kettle corn and deep fried dough, tortillas pressed fresh to order and smoked meat. For Jack, it was pure, unadulterated heaven. He couldn't believe his eyes, he was trying to pull Aaron and Jessica in every direction he could – first to a tent with a man making balloon animals or foam lizards he would put on long plastic poles so you could walk them, and then to another that sold kites and beach toys and odd tie dye shirts. He found one with wood carvers, one that would give you a no commitment required airbrush tattoo of anything you desired. (Jack chose a frog, it was an impulsive decision he regretted instantly, wishing he'd asked for the dragon instead. The choices were tantalizing, his little eyes danced from animal to animal and he wanted every single one of them. He ended up with five when all was said and done, a full menagerie painted up and down his arms, and Aaron was only able to stop him when he announced there was a cart serving giant pretzels just next door.) His childish senses were on overload, it was like a fair but filled with art – portrait artists, cartoonists, caricaturists, painters, stations that children could create their own beautiful spin art. Jack spun colors wildly and came away with a giant catastrophe of a painting, swirling reds and blacks and greens enough to make Aaron dizzy. He would give it to Dave, just to see the way the man both lit up with joy and terror as he realized he would have to display the chaotic monstrosity somewhere Jack would notice it anytime they were at his home.
Aaron had no intention of spending the entire day at the festival, he only wanted to sit on a blanket and enjoy a performance of King Lear under the stars, but Derek had canceled on him and somehow he'd managed to desperately plead his way into Jessica agreeing to accompany he and Jack to the showing, on the condition that they got to partake in the pre-show festivities. He went to the festival every year if he could, usually on his own, showing up just in time to lay his blanket down, watch the performance and leave. This experience was entirely new to him and after just a couple of hours he was already bone tired.
“Daddy! They have SNOW CONES!” Jack squealed, and Jessica shrugged, wordlessly instructing Aaron to give in on this one, as if he didn't have an arm full of trinkets that cost an exorbitant amount of money and would be lost within the week. Even still, saying no to cotton candy and deep fried oreos was one thing, but a sno cone was a worthwhile investment in her book. His anxiety was sky high, bright lights flashing all around him, begging him to whip out his wallet to make his son happy. The pathways were so crowded that people bumped into you every time you took a step, no matter the direction. Jessica watched his fingers twitch, watched him ball up his fist and she reached for his hand, smoothing out the tension and smiled.
“It's just a snow cone,” she whispered, soothing his nerves, as if that was the real problem. She knew crowds were challenging for him, they'd always been, but since starting this job it had been especially so. He couldn't look around without seeing danger, without seeing something dark peering around a corner, looming in the shadows. “Let's get him a cone and go find a place to sit, okay?” He nodded and stepped toward the line for the treats, Jack's little hand buried in Jessica's, her body placed firmly between them like the glue holding the whole thing together.
“Uncle Spencer!” Jack squealed, suddenly pulling them by Jessica's hand to the slender man waiting in line. When his tiny hand wiggled out of Jessica's vice grip, Aaron felt a jolt of fear, an urge to drop everything in his arms and rush toward his son. Too many of his cases had started just that way. In an instant it was over, and Jack had been scooped up into Spencer's waiting arms, the two of them hugging like old friends. The line moved quickly, people cut in and out between each of them and Aaron furrowed his brow at Jack, a silent reprimand for scaring him. Spencer caught the look, mouthed a genuine apology, and asked Jack what flavor he was going to get. They were well beyond small talk, the awkward how are yous and the what are you doing heres a thing of the past. It had come as no surprise to him that Spencer would be at the festival, their interests seemed to overlap more and more as Aaron was pulled out of his shell and into the world, a place he'd been hiding from for so long it was like being reintegrated into society. Spencer bought snow cones for everyone on the singular condition that he and Jack got to choose the flavors. Grape for Jessica, a rainbow mess of fruits for Jack that turned his cone a deep purpleish black, Lime for Spencer and Raspberry for Aaron. He hadn't wanted one, and Jessica knew it, the way she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, the edge of her mouth drawn up just barely in a knowing little smile. He narrowed his eyes, sparks flying from an age old teenage glare and out of spite, he bit into the top of the cone and gnashed the bits of ice between his teeth, grinning his blood red grin right at her. Her mind flashed back to watching The Lost Boys with him at the movie theatre, their idea and Haley had protested intensely but lost in a majority vote. Spencer and Jack were lost in their own world, discussing all of the flavors Jack had chosen, missed the way the syrup dripped down Aaron's chin and didn't look up until Jessica began howling with laughter. Aaron swiped at his chin with the back of his hand, smearing the bright red all over his hand and up his sleeve, wishing he'd had the forethought to grab napkins.
“Daddy?” Jack asked, concerned about what could possibly have put Jessica into such hysterics but neither of them would speak of it. Aaron only smiled at Jack and took a smaller bite of the ice, minding his manners now, but shooting Jessica one final glare before they made their way down the pavement toward the lawn, eager to get a good spot before it filled up. A patchwork of blankets bordered by emerald green erupted before their eyes as they walked, and Aaron scanned the crowd for the perfect place, a great view of the stage with close proximity to the bathrooms in case of emergency. Spencer found it before they did, and asked if they minded if he lay his blanket down beside theirs, he'd come on his own and wouldn't mind the company. Jessica wanted to blurt out that it was okay, of course it was, but this was Aaron's day off and Spencer was his subordinate, she would defer to him. He didn't consider it long, he just said of course, the more the merrier, but they didn't need to spread out two blankets, theirs was more than large enough for the four of them to stretch out on. Spencer agreed, happy to be able to wrap himself up inside of his if need be.
“So distribution should undo excess,” Spencer started, helping to spread out the large wool blanket across their selected piece of land.
“And each man have enough,” Aaron finished. Jessica rolled her eyes and whispered something about nerds in Jack's ear, enough to make him and his purple lips giggle wildly. Neither of them paid the insult any mind.
“So,” Spencer said, sitting in a way that reminded Aaron of a praying mantis, all arms and legs and wide, excited eyes. He was reminded how much younger the other man was by the ease with which he got himself to the ground, no creaking knees or protesting hips, he'd just melted into place. Aaron felt his left knee pop in and out of place as he crouched and found a comfortable position, an old soccer injury that would never go quietly into the night though it rarely caused any actual problems. “Do you come to all of these or is King Lear important?”
Aaron's eyes danced through the crowd, enchanted now by the way people mingled on their blankets, eagerly awaiting the beginning of the play. He wondered how many were here for the first time, and how many were seasoned veterans. “Both,” he said finally, unable to hide his anticipation. A sudden pang of sadness hit him in the sternum, coursed through his veins and washed away as fast as it had come – he'd wanted to share this night with Derek, it had been so long since they'd been out, just the two of them and he'd spent a week preparing for it. There was a picnic basket (which Derek got a laugh out of, how utterly old fashioned Aaron was), brie and all of the accouterments, even a bottle of wine ready and waiting but the house Derek was renovating had a pipe burst and flood the basement requiring an immediate fix. It wasn't the end of the world, the brie and wine would be around for any other night, and he'd managed to find excellent company in Derek's absence. Still, the sadness came and went as he and Spencer spoke, debated which plays were more relevant to the current cultural climate, discussed the plays that had been most influential to them growing up, and Spencer listened more than he spoke when Aaron opened up about playing Mercutio in his high school production of Romeo & Juliet. He'd joined to meet Haley, found that he was terrible at musicals, but his time to shine came when they put on Shakespeare. He'd even dabbled in college until studying took up all of his spare time.
“Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man,” Aaron spoke softly into the cool breeze and Spencer grinned. He thought for a moment how long ago high school had been for Aaron and how easily that line flowed from him, thought about how the team used him for his memory but Aaron had clearly been holding out on them. Aaron was so unlike Mercutio, and yet he could picture it clear as day.
“Daddy! I'm hungry!” Jack announced, dragging the two men out of their discourse. Jessica shrugged, digging through the bag they'd brought to no avail. They'd managed to go through all of the snacks, having come much earlier than Aaron had intended. He scanned the nearby vendors for something acceptable, though he was certain Jack wouldn't say no to some deep fried sugar. The play was moments from beginning and the kettle corn vendor didn't have much of a line, that sealed the deal.
“I'll be right back,” he said, pushing himself up to standing, ignoring the groaning of his spine as he did so. He always told himself he should come better prepared, be one of the smart people who carted around folding chairs, but in all his years he never had and suspected his stubborn pride would never truly allow it.
“I'll join you!” Spencer cried, standing up just as easily as anything with a spring in his step. The two men walked side by side, the early evening breeze dropping considerably in temperature as time wore on and Aaron regretted having shrugged out of his jacket back at the blanket. By the time they reached the stand a small line had formed. They found their place and began talking again, discussing the play they were about to watch and the symbolism, quoting line after line to the point that the people in line in front of them made just barely audible comments about not even needing to watch the play now. Neither of them seemed to mind, it wasn't as if you needed spoiler alerts for something written hundreds of years prior, and they were lost in their own private world. In truth, Spencer knew all of the plays and had seen many of them, he enjoyed it, but he couldn't believe how deeply Aaron seemed to love it all. His excitement was palpable and Spencer had never seen him this way. He found himself wondering if this was the Aaron that Derek was privileged to see regularly, the version carefully guarded from the job.
“You know, it's sort of surprising that King Lear would be your favorite play,” Spencer mentioned as they moved up in the line once the people in front of them got sick enough of their babble that they decided to find food at a different stand. He noted with some certainty that Aaron's arms had bloomed with tiny goosebumps and he was bouncing, ever so slightly, in his tennis shoes on the asphalt. He raised an eyebrow at the childish way he showed he was cold and continued, a little nervously but very curious to see how it played out. How long would Aaron endure the cold before admitting he needed to run back and grab his jacket? Spencer thought he knew already, but he was invested in the experiment. “I would have guessed it to be A Comedy of Errors.”
“I saw street performers doing scenes from A Comedy of Errors on the steps of a library while traveling through Syracuse in college,” Aaron replied, folding his arms close over his chest. “It was a sight I'll never forget.” Spencer smiled and shrugged out of his jacket, handing it to Aaron without a word. There were a series of looks exchanged between them, a silent conversation, before Aaron slipped the jacket on and thanked the younger man, promising he could have it back as soon as they got back to the blanket and he could put his own jacket on. It struck him as funny, in that moment, how easily he fit into Spencer's jacket, a feat he never would have considered in years past. He hadn't realized just how much Spencer had changed over time. “Out of curiosity, why are you surprised at my love for Lear?”
“It's just incredibly sad, I imagine especially so as a father,” Spencer said softly, and Aaron's features settled in solemn contemplation. “I didn't think you'd take particular joy in the tragedies I suppose.” There was more he could have said, about Aaron's clear daily struggle with his own mental health, how it mirrored Lear in more ways than one at times, especially when it came to brutality and power, authority and chaos but the evening was too good for such topics. Aaron was smiling, he was out of his home and enjoying himself, there was no need to dive into the darkness. “You read Victorian romance novels and historical biographies, you steer clear of war and other violent themes in your spare time. When you watch movies, Derek says you stick to old slapstick comedies, classics, and occasionally you two can agree on the cheesier action movies. I just thought you would be more keen on the comedies.”
“Wait a second, did you just profile me?” Aaron asked, and he let out a soft chuckle. “You're right I am, but King Lear is dear to me. It was the first play I saw performed by professionals, I guess it stuck with me. At least it's not Titus Andronicus. Now that one,” Aaron started, and Spencer let out a laugh that startled him, like a shotgun in the twilight. He forgot what he was going to say next. Spencer saw it, though, and he put it to words the best he could.
“I would be concerned,” Spencer said through short bursts of laughter. “Very concerned, Hotch.”
“Speaking of Titus,” he began, stepping up to the next place in line, glad they were nearing the front. The show was about to start.
“Oh, I know! There's a performance scheduled next month in D.C.! Would you like to come with me? I was already planning to buy a ticket in the morning, they go on sale at 9am and you never know when these things are going to sell out.” Spencer was rambling, his words stringing together with barely a break in his excitement.
“I think we do,” Aaron said with a smirk dripping in sarcasm, pausing to order two bags of kettle corn and some drinks when they reached the front. “But I'd like to go anyway, even if we end up being the only two people who show up. Thank you for the invite.”
“So Morgan's house had plumbing issues?” Spencer asked while they popped open a bag and made their way back to the blanket, sampling the food on the trip. Aaron nodded. He knew how it sounded too, Jessica had pointed it out, but he'd been there, he'd seen the flood. Still, he was certain that Derek would rather deal with plumbing than Shakespeare.
“I know how it sounds,” he replied softly with a shrug. “His entire basement is under water. Saved by the bell, huh?”
When the play started, the crowd went quiet. Speakers pumped the sound through the crisp night air and Aaron huddled inside of his own jacket, having given Spencer back his before it got too chilly. Jack had decided to make himself at home on Spencer's lap, snuggled into his blanket, and was asleep before the end of the first act. It didn't take long before Aaron's eyelids were getting heavy and he told himself he'd just lie down for a moment, cradling his head in the crook of his arm, resting beside Jessica all wrapped up in her own blanket with his legs curled as tight as he could. He hadn't realized just how exhausting a day spent in throngs of people could be, he hadn't really done anything but he was wiped out.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here, pretty boy?” Derek asked, creeping up behind them with a grin that could light up the night. “Aw man, is he asleep? For real?”
“They both are,” Spencer whispered, indicating the way Aaron had fallen asleep curled up like a cat beside Jessica and Jack nestled in his lap. Derek removed his backpack and pulled out the blanket he'd brought, startling Aaron awake with the toe of his boot tapping the small of his back.
“Move it, Hotchner,” he grunted, and Aaron sat up, arching his back and yawning. He glanced around at the crowd, at the stage with its dimmed lights and then up at Derek who was preparing to set himself down. "Scoot."
“You came,” he mumbled through sleepy lips and Derek plopped down behind him, pulling him in against his chest and wrapped them in his blanket. Spencer watched as Aaron settled himself there in Derek's embrace, he tried not to stare, he'd seen it before but it never got less shocking.
“Got the pipe fixed and the water pumped out, set up some fans...nothing else I could do tonight. So what's this play about?”
“It's about a king who has three daughters, and he decides to divide up his kingdom to each of them according to how they declare their love for him. He,” Spencer was beginning a tangent, words flying out at the speed of light and Derek shook his head and asked him to stop, please.
“Nevermind. I'll just watch, thanks,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He glanced at Jessica while she laughed at him, understanding too well exactly how he felt. “I'm sure I can figure it out. Some batshit crazy stuff's gonna go down, everyone is gonna die, lotsa blood...the end."
“Something like that,” Aaron whispered from inside of his cocoon. He knew he wasn't long for the world, especially now that he was wrapped in Derek's warmth, and though he'd been so looking forward to seeing the play, somehow this ending was far better. He could always catch the play again later, and now he had Titus Andronicus to look forward to. With bright red raspberry stained lips Derek would ask about later and a belly full of kettle corn, he fell fast asleep before the third act began and didn't wake until they had to pack up and make their way home.
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"No, Derek it's not like that at all" Emily sighed, feeling Derek's arm wrap around her shoulder.
"I love him. I feel like I always loved him, he's the best thing that ever happened to me, I didn't think... that I ever would find something like this. I feel so lucky." She let out the breath she didn't realise she had been holding.
A flash of cerulean blue. Ian's voice as he tugged at a strand of her hair.
"When I think about my future" she continued "he's all I see"
The penultimate chapter of mirror
Part viii(argue) coming in 13 hours.
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Bunny and Baby -- Poly!BAU Team
(Edited version for a broader audience. You can check out the full version on @hotch-and-bunny)
Written By: @desperately-bisexual
Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, Ma’am kink, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints (handcuffs), collaring, leashes, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, degradation, mild choking, pegging, impregnation/breeding kink, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.
Pairing: Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x BAU Team.
Dynamic (in order of superiority): Sir!Dom!Aaron Hotchner, Ma’am!Dom!Elle Greenaway, Mistress!Dom!Emily Prentiss, Daddy!Dom!Derek Morgan, switch!Reader (sub in this plot), bunny!sub!Spencer Reid.
Word Count: 7645
Criminal Minds Discord Server
We had been returning from a case in Louisiana, everyone sitting comfortably in their own seats on the jet. Hotch and I were beside each other— I was pressed between him and the window— Morgan was across from us, Emily and Elle were across the aisle and a row back, and Spencer was laying on the couch. Rossi hadn’t come with us because he had a family emergency. Emily and Elle were the only ones talking while the rest of us were quietly working on our own things; but Spencer was just half asleep on the couch, trying to catch up on some rest. He told us before we boarded that he had another headache that kept him up all night, and we all scolded him for not coming to one of us and seeking help because we always knew what to do to help him. He insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, though. While I didn’t entirely believe him, we all decided to let him rest during the flight.
It wasn’t until there was a bit of turbulence that made me grab onto Hotch’s arm that things got… interesting. The thing was, when it came to Aaron Hotchner, the slightest touch could set him off, and he would get mean because he saw even the simplest of shoulder bumps as a bratty act that needed to be punished. I always had to be careful around him because of that. But I forgot. The plane jumped in the air, my stomach dropped, and before I knew it, I was squeezing his bicep to ground myself as some kind of reminder that I wasn’t going to die or something.
When the turbulence passed, I tore my hand away from Hotch, keeping in mind that I had to keep my hands to myself, but it was too late. He was staring at me. I swallowed hard and tried to go back to my book that Spencer had recommended, which was his attempt to win his favor with me after he pissed me off one day and I wanted to punish him. He was lucky that I wasn’t as mean as Hotch and Emily. Unfortunately for me, however, that meant I was completely fucked because Hotch was still sitting there, staring at me, likely asking himself how I could dare to touch him without permission, even when it was for something as innocent as it had been. I finally dared to look up at him. He was frowning.
“Sir—” I tried to explain myself quietly so that the others couldn’t hear, but he shook his head, silently telling me to stop. I fell silent and gulped.
Hotch, without saying anything, looked back down at the iPad that was sitting on the table in front of him as he was going through emails, scoping out new cases to take on; but what he did after that was somewhat unexpected. His hand closest to me drifted between my thighs. I adjusted in my seat, trying to fix my posture to be “smooth” so that no one else would notice. No one looked up. Hotch continued with his plan, forcing his hand between my thighs, spreading my legs open to give him access to what was beneath my skirt. I should have known that wearing a skirt on the jet was only going to get me in trouble, but with the case having just ended, and with Spencer’s headaches, my attire had been the last thing on my mind. To Hotch, however, it seemed to be the only thing on his mind.
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered to me. I was surprised Morgan didn’t hear him.
When I nodded, Hotch pressed his index and middle fingers against my panties, finding the sensitive nub that was my clit, hiding behind my labia and the clitoral hood. He was too far. I needed him to press harder to actually feel his fingers, to actually get me to the edge rather than just get needy for him— but my desperation for him and what was about to come was undeniable when he slid his fingers down to hover over my core, discovering a wet spot that was slowly forming. Hotch snickered to himself. I knew that he was probably thinking to himself something along the lines of how he had only just touched me and I was already wet, proving to him that I was always thinking about having one of them— if not all of them— fuck me.
Hotch moved back up to my clit, and he pressed hard enough that I could feel him, but not enough to actually give me everything I wanted. Slowly, he started rubbing circles over my panties. A quiet sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my seat, moved my hips forward to give him better access, and I screwed my eyes shut. There was no doubt that if Morgan happened to look up, he would know exactly what was happening.
As Hotch’s fingers started moving faster, I rolled my hips eagerly to make his pace in an attempt to speed up my orgasm, but he pulled away somewhat and slowed down until I stopped moving and waited politely for him to make another move. He went back to what he was doing suddenly. I tensed and tried my very best to hold still this time while also biting my lip to keep myself from moaning. But I was so close again. So, so close. I just wanted to cum for him.
“Sir, please,” I whispered. “Please.”
“Please, may I cum?”
“Ask Mistress first.”
My eyes widened and I looked at him, but he was still reading his emails, so I looked over at Emily. She was still casually talking to Elle without a single clue as to what a mess I was while sitting next to Hotch. I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t beg like that randomly when they were all doing their own things. So, Hotch shrugged because he didn’t care one way or the other. If I wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to let me cum, and for him, that was fun and it didn’t matter. But to me, it mattered. His fingers kept rolling over my clit again and again, and it was getting unbearable, it was getting torturous. So, I dared to give in.
I let out an audible moan while leaning forward to grab onto the table to hold my orgasm back, and I croaked, “Mistress—” Everyone stopped what they were doing to look over at me. There I was, clearly falling apart as Hotch’s arm was suspiciously moving in the direction that led just between my thighs. Emily was staring at me. “Mistress, please, may I cum?”
Her mouth fell agape in shock when she realized what it was that Hotch was doing and why I was asking. She looked between me and Hotch. “Have they been good?” she asked him.
“No,” he said nonchalantly.
“Then, no, you may not cum, slut,” she said to me.
I whimpered and increased my grip on the table until my knuckles were turning white. “Please! I’m not going to last!”
“You cum, you get punished,” Morgan said.
“Fuck…” I tried wiggling away from Hotch, but it was useless since I was trapped in the seat next to the window. “Please…” I was breathless now. “Please… I can’t…”
“And what are you doing?” Elle questioned roughly, squinting at Spencer, scolding him for something I couldn’t see.
Spencer floundered and stuttered from the couch. “I— Um. Nothing, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It was nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Fuck—” I moved my hips around again with Hotch’s fingers as my orgasm suddenly washed through me, a shiver running down my spine as my toes curled in my shoes, my thighs shook against the leather seat, and my walls clenched around nothing. “Shit.” Hotch slowed his movements as I came down from my high. My eyes quickly scanned the interior of the jet, catching how they were all scowling at me, unpleased with how I had cum without any of their permission. My heart sank in my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“First, Spence starts touching himself without permission,” Elle began as she stood from her seat and started approaching the couch. I sat up a bit in my seat so that I could look over my shoulder to see Spencer sitting up somewhat now, an erection straining his pants, a small wet spot on the front from his pre-cum. “Then, you cum without our permission.” She ran her fingers through Spencer’s hair, then once she was far enough in, she curled her grip, roughly pulling at his curls to make him sit up all the way. “And the two of you still had the audacity to say that you’re sorry. I don’t think they’re actually sorry; do you, Morgan?”
“No,” he answered, also disappointed in us.
“We didn’t train brats,” she hissed, pulling at Spencer’s hair again, making him whimper.
“His headache, Elle—” Emily warned quickly.
Elle froze when she remembered, and she tried removing her grip from Spencer, suddenly aware of how she might have hurt him in her fit of anger. “I’m sorry, Spence—”
But he cut her off by gently taking her wrist and leading her touch back to his hair, encouraging to pull again. “It’s gone.”
“Don’t lie, bunny.”
“I’m not, Ma’am.”
She smirked and tugged again, bringing him to his knees. “Then the two of you have no excuse for misbehaving. Their punishment, Morgan.”
Hotch slid out of his seat and moved to the back of the jet where Emily was still sitting so that there was enough room for Morgan to stand at the same time as I did, knowing that it was better than him grabbing onto my hair, too. When we were both in the aisle, my back close to Elle’s, Morgan caught me off guard by pinching my chin roughly in between his thumb and his other four fingers. I pouted my eyes at him. I was trying to silently beg for mercy, but, of course, it didn’t work.
In fact, it made him chuckle. “Princess, you did this to yourself.”
“Daddy, I’m sorry… Please… I didn’t mean to cum.”
“Then, you should have held it like good girls do.”
“Their punishment, Derek,” Hotch reminded.
Morgan rolled his eyes because he already knew what he was doing and he hated that Hotch thought he needed to be babysat while Domming me, even though he didn’t. Morgan and I had done plenty of scenes together. As the only switch in our relationship, it was easy for me to go visit one of them when I needed to be Dommed, whereas I would go to Spencer if I needed to Dom. Each of them were unique Doms, though, and I would seek them out separately, depending on what I needed. I mean, I lived with Hotch, but he could be cruel, and sometimes, I didn’t need that. Out of all of us, Morgan was the kindest. His punishments were never harsh, and playing with him was always easy, compared to with Emily or Elle, who were on the same wavelength, both masters at torturing me with edges, ruins, forced orgasms. When I needed something light, I went to Morgan. When I needed to be completely out of control, not a single thought in my head, I went to Emily or Elle— usually both at the same time. With Hotch, he was everything that Morgan, Emily, and Elle were, but he was also the one who gave me the harshest punishments. Nipple clamps that he tugged on, floggers, plugs, being tied up and left there for an hour while he was gone, cockwarming me until he came and I didn’t. But Morgan was the one that had dictated my punishment. For cumming, he got to decide what they were going to do with me, which gave me a little bit of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad.
“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.
I did so without hesitation, and he spun me around so that he could cuff my hands together. I had a good view of Spencer and Elle now. He was on his knees in front of her, the two of them watching each other carefully— probably because she was trying to decide if he was lying about his headaches or not, and he was trying to gauge how bad his punishment would be. But she was just playing with his hair. We all loved to do that. I mean, Spencer loved it, too, which was why he did it, and it was the easiest way to ease him in and out of sub space. When I would Dom him, our sessions were usually the same. I’d go to his house to find him kneeling by the door, waiting patiently for me while wearing his cute little collar that we all picked out for him, and then he’d cook dinner for me. Sometimes, if he had been bratty, I’d sit in the living room, using him to balance platters in his hands that held my wine glass, any snacks I had, and sometimes even a book or two. If he ever dropped them, I’d punish him. If not, I’d reward him. For rewards, we’d go to his bedroom where I’d worship his cock, but never getting him close enough to the edge to actually make it 100% pleasant. I liked watching him squirm. Even when he had his best days, he knew that I wasn’t going to immediately let him cum because my favorite part about being his Dom was controlling his orgasms. As for punishments, that usually came with tying him up, flogging him sometimes, ruining his poor, little orgasms to make him whimper pathetically, and overstimulating him. I fucking loved the sounds he made during sex. Usually, I could pry them out of him with just a simple praise, but they were always so sweet when I had him tied to his bed, a plug in his ass, and I was riding every single drop out of him, never stopping even after he came inside of me.
His hair, though… One rough tug at his hair and he was immediately our bunny. For aftercare, his favorite thing was cuddling while we played with his curls. Brushing his hair, curling his strands around our fingers, gently massaging his scalp, all of those things prevented him from sub dropping, and it reassured him that he was safe with us, that we loved him, that he was going to be okay. I loved his hair. In fact, I was obsessed with it. Watching as Elle played with it and he nuzzled against her with a hypnotized, submissive smile on his face, I felt myself lighten up, too.
“Come here, bunny,” Morgan beckoned Spencer over to us. After Elle released him, he crawled around her and stopped just in front of me. “Take their skirt off.” Spencer did as he was told, reaching up for my waistband, quickly pulling my skirt down to my ankles. I helped him by stepping out of them. “Not their panties,” he warned when Spencer moved for those, too. Spencer dropped his hands to his lap. “Can you see how wet Sir made them? The mess they made from breaking the rules?”
Spencer nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Don’t be like them.”
“Spence, where’s your collar?” Elle asked, already digging through his bag that she retrieved from one of the overhead bins. I heard another one open behind me and Morgan, probably something that Hotch or Emily were looking for. “Nevermind.” She found Spencer’s collar and leash in his go-bag and brought it over to us. “Presentation.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Spencer looked up somewhat so that Elle could see where she was positioning the collar over his Adam’s apple, and then he looked down and moved his long hair out of the way so that she could clasp it together.
“Presentation,” Morgan whispered in my ear. So, that was what the other overhead bin had been. Hotch had probably gone digging for my collar, too.
The rule with me and Spencer was that we weren’t allowed to wear our collars in public because the whole point of kink was that all parties were consenting adults at all times. If someone wasn’t consenting to the scene, it had to stop immediately. The thing with wearing an obvious O-collar out and about was that the general public couldn’t consent to viewing it. Yes, it looked like a choker if you were oblivious, but it still wasn’t fair. And we didn’t like to draw attention to ourselves, anyhow. So, Spencer and I could never wear our collars in public, but we always had to bring them in our go-bags in case a situation like this arose where we were at the hotel and needed to submit, or, yes, even on the jet. This had only happened once before, though, to be fair.
When Morgan finished clasping my collar around my neck, he pushed me to my knees, my face even with Spencer’s. His breath was hot on my nose, our lips so close I could nearly taste him, but Elle tugged on his leash, pulling him back, and Morgan tugged on mine, pulling me back. We both whimpered at the feeling. “You don’t get to touch each other,” Morgan hissed. “In fact, Y/N, you don’t get to touch anyone at all.” My eyes widened and I looked up at Elle, almost as if I could read the look on her face to see how the rest of them were feeling behind me.
She was smirking. “Bunny’s so hard…” Elle teased, pulling on Spencer’s leash to have him lean back against her thighs. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.
“You’re lucky that you only palmed yourself without permission. If you would have done anything worse, we’d be making your punishment no-touch, like Y/N. What do you say to us for sparing you that torture?”
“Let’s move them to the front,” Morgan told Elle so that she could pull Spencer onto the couch to give him room to make me crawl towards the front of the jet where no one would bother me. “Go on,” he encouraged. I started crawling, and when I made it where he wanted me, he had me turn around so that I was facing the entirety of the team. “Now, you get to sit here and watch.”
“Daddy?” I questioned, unsure of what he meant.
“And not talk.” He crouched and kissed me gently. “This is what you get for breaking the rules.”
“It’s useless to keep apologizing; isn’t it?” Around Morgan, I could talk to him like that, which was a little more casual than most scenes called for, but with the others, I could never say anything like that. Morgan understood, though. He nodded and kissed me again. “Give me a toy, at least. Edge me, ruin me— Anything.”
“No.” He stood back up.
Elle had Spencer’s pants on the ground now, and Emily had moved to the couch to peel his shirt off. As Morgan approached them, Hotch moved closer, too. I watched as the four of them dedicated their entire attention to Spencer, kissing his jawline, nibbling on his earlobe, running their thumbs over his sensitive nipples, and Elle worked her hand down under his briefs. I rolled my hips around for friction against my soaked panties when I heard Spencer let out a breathless moan just before Hotch kissed him to shut him up.
“Don’t let him edge,” Emily warned as Elle continued to play with Spencer inside of his underwear.
“Aw,” Elle cooed with false sympathy against his cheekbone, “is bunny already close?”
He nodded eagerly while pulling away from his kiss with Hotch. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Well, I think it’s only fair to make you ask Mistress for permission the same way Y/N had to.”
He turned his head to look up at Emily. “Please, Mistress?” He sounded just as desperate and pathetic as I had. “May I cum?”
“You touched without permission, though, bunny,” she said to him. He shook his head, knowing that was her answer without saying what she actually meant. “I know that listening to Y/N beg was overwhelming for you…”
She dragged her nails down his chest, making his chest tense up. I saw the way his little stomach sucked in, and I whimpered again. I wanted that to be me touching him. I loved the little tummy he had now since we had helped him get over his addiction since Mexico. He was so healthy now, which meant eating well, something we regulated, and it gave him a cute, healthy, tummy that showed when he was wearing his belts with a button down shirt. I loved praising that part of him. Sometimes, it was obvious how self-conscious it could make him, but when we let him know how much we loved it and how proud we were of his progress since Mexico, he would love it, too.
Spencer bucked up when Elle pulled her hand out of his underwear, leaving him hanging on the edge. Hotch grabbed Spencer’s hips and pushed him back down onto the couch with a huff, probably still angry about me, but now it was worse since Spencer was acting up. I saw Spencer’s cock twitch helplessly behind the constraints of his clothes. He was trying to reach for someone’s hand again, but Morgan collected his wrists together and took Elle’s handcuffs, using them to restrain Spencer the same way I was restrained.
“Please,” he pleaded. “Something. Anything. Please.”
“My bag, Hotch,” Emily muttered, focusing on getting Spencer out of his underwear now. He let out a sigh of relief when his cock bounced freely against his stomach. Hotch scrambled to Emily’s go-bag at the back of the plane and started digging in it for something. “The red one—”
“I know,” he grumbled. “I know.”
He pulled out three things, holding them up long enough for me to inspect from where I was kneeling on the opposite side of the jet. The red strap on that Emily loved to fuck Spence with, a bottle of lube to help him take her easier, and the worst part… Honestly, I didn’t know what was worse, what I was enduring or what torture was awaiting Spencer with the last toy Hotch retrieved. I didn’t even realize Emily carried it around with her. How did she even think to bring such a thing? I mean, I understood the red strap and the lube, but… that? I almost felt bad for Spencer. At least I got to cum earlier, even though I wasn’t supposed to, but it seemed like they didn’t want Spencer to cum at all. I felt sorry for him. If I wasn’t so far into sub space, I probably would’ve snickered with the rest of them, thinking about all of the wicked ways I could have tortured him with it, but… No, I couldn’t while we were both being punished.
“If you want to touch so bad,” Hotch said while returning to the couch, “then we’ll touch.” Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the last toy. “But we won’t let you cum.”
He struggled against his Doms’ holds as Hotch knelt down to begin the tedious process of sliding the tight metal cock ring over Spencer’s length. Spencer cursed at the feelings. I had no doubts that the ring was cold to the touch— which was an unbearable feeling for him— and it was probably so tight on him… When it reached his base, it kept all of the blood right where it needed to be to ensure he stayed hard. And then Hotch grabbed the string version of the cock ring, which was entirely adjustable, so he slid it over Spencer’s balls and tightened it. Spencer cried out.
“Sir—” Spencer moaned pleasantly as Hotch suddenly dipped down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s cock. “Thank you, Sir.”
Emily came over to torture me. She pulled at my leash, choking me, tugging my head back somewhat. “Keep your eyes on Spence.”
My gaze was narrowed down my cheeks and my nose so that I could watch as Hotch slowly licked his tongue around Spencer’s sensitive tip that was still leaking pre-cum. I knew he tasted good. I knew that he was probably a leaking, pathetic mess, and Hotch was enjoying every second of torturing him; and I wished that it were me instead of Hotch.
Without warning, Emily pressed her index finger against my clit, making me jolt.
Emily snickered and started rubbing my clit faster.
“Mistress, I’m close. Please.”
“No.” She kissed the tip of my nose before pulling her touch away. I leaned forward to regain her touch, but she was already walking away. “Lemme fuck him,” she told Hotch, wiping some of the sweat off of Spencer’s forehead.
“I want to warm him up first,” Elle said eagerly. Hotch released Spencer from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. “Turn him over.”
Morgan and Emily worked together to get Spencer on his knees on the floor, and they pressed his chest against the couch. Emily tugged at his leash to keep him distracted when he looked over at me with a painful, silent plea for help— help which I couldn’t give. He accepted his fate, closing his eyes as he waited for the next step.
“Let me hold him,” I begged. “Please. I’ll serve you all while I do it!”
Elle squirted some of the lube onto her index and middle fingers before rubbing them up and down Spencer’s slit. He tensed up. “Fine,” she said, still concentrating on him. “Come here.”
Morgan sat on the couch, his thigh just beside Spencer’s head so that we couldn’t make eye contact from where I was anymore. I started crawling towards all of them, letting Morgan pick up my leash when I was close enough so that he could tug me forward. He spread his legs so that I was sitting between his knees. “Suck,” he commanded, beginning to take his pants off.
I took the moment with nothing to do as an opportunity to finally turn my head to look at Spencer who still had his cheek pressed against the couch. I leaned down and kissed him. He perked up and started kissing me back. Just as it got more intense, the two of us fighting for dominance in our kiss, I felt him suddenly back down when Elle slid her fingers into his tight hole, causing him to moan against my lips. Our hands were still trapped behind our backs, so I couldn’t hold him steady to encourage him to keep kissing me, I couldn’t tangle my hands in his hair, and I couldn’t even reach to hold his hands as they struggled in his cuffs.
“Baby girl,” Morgan called, waiting for me.
“Stop ignoring him,” Hotch hissed, pushing my panties to the side and sliding his thumb into me. “Shit.” He sounded so turned on. “Fuck, baby.”
“You and bunny,” Elle chuckled. “The two of you can never hold it together. Pathetic.”
Spencer and I moaned happily in response to the degradation.
Morgan, now completely impatient, held my head between his palms, tore me away from Spencer, then turned my gaze before pushing my mouth onto his cock. He kept moving me until I gagged. I felt Spencer rut against the couch when Elle must have curled her fingers against his prostate or something, and I followed suit when I felt Hotch replace his short thumb with his long cock. I thought I was supposed to be facing punishment— Not that I was arguing. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have brought it up, because at least I finally got him. He always felt so good. He was so long, but not as thick as Morgan, not that it mattered. Both of them knew how to please me, and that was what mattered more than anything.
“Jesus, baby girl,” Morgan moaned, throwing his head back.
“He’s ready,” Elle said. Spencer whimpered when there was a loss of contact between them after she pulled out of him and stepped away, giving Emily room to kneel behind him and line up her cock with his ass. “Are you going to be good for us, bunny? No cumming?”
Spencer whined. “I don’t know, Ma’am.”
“Promise or we won’t fuck you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he insisted quickly, realizing his mistake. “I won’t cum. I promise.”
Suddenly, he was pushed forward when Emily roughly thrust into him. I pulled my mouth off Morgan long enough for me to catch my breath and moan as Hotch continued fucking me softly to torture me, and I looked over to see Emily showing no remorse with Spencer. Poor thing. Elle had stretched him, and Emily took a second to let him adjust, but now he was ruined. Absolutely destroyed. He was going to be wobbling on our way off the jet when we would land, I just knew it.
“I didn’t say you could stop, slut,” Morgan growled, grabbing me by the hair this time to make sure that I wouldn’t move away from him this time. I groaned as I took all of him in my mouth again. Just as he willed it, I bobbed my head up and down, my jaw slack, my tongue flat, my throat open to stop the gagging because he was using me as a hole and nothing else, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Hotch pissed me off suddenly by reaching under me to grab my breasts through my shirt, making me roll my hips eagerly against him. “So greedy.” He thrust roughly into me in an attempt to warn me off of acting out again, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cum. I had to cum. I needed some kind of relief. “Don’t you fucking dare—” He pulled out of me when he felt me tighten around him. “Brat.” He spanked me hard. “Elle.”
“I thought you understood that we didn’t train brats, baby,” Elle said, backing Hotch up. She teased her cleaned and re-lubed fingers at my ass now while Hotch realigned with my pussy. “You and bunny don’t get to cum.”
I moaned around Derek’s length as Elle and Hotch both thrusted into me simultaneously. He gave me every single inch he had to offer, making sure I felt just how big he was, the way he could reach deep places inside of me that made my knees weak every time. As for Elle, her approach had been a bit slower so that she could be safe. When her fingers were moving in me, she only put them in about half way before gently pulling them out and pushing them back in, this time all the way to the bottom knuckle, and then she curled her fingers. Morgan held me steady as I moaned around him again. The three of them working together to fill each of my holes was… I mean, they had all filled me further before, but this just felt so different… so good…
“Mmm—” Morgan bucked his hips up so that he could fuck my face harder. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted as his fingers gripped my hair harder. He let out a grunt as his whole body tensed, his orgasm finally hitting him like a train. As his cum spilled into my mouth, I used his hesitancy as a chance to finally move my tongue around, stimulating his shaft, making him twitch and squirm a bit more, and I hummed happily around him to make it even worse. They were torturing me, the least I could do was slyly return the favor. “Shit, baby!” He pulled me off before I could continue overstimulating. “Fuck.” His thumb caressed my cheek lovingly for a second. “Go on. Swallow.” I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take anything more. I was so full, I felt like I was going to explode. He furrowed his brows. “Swallow, slut.” I kept shaking my head, and I tried to escape Elle and Hotch so that I could find somewhere to spit, but they held my hips still while Morgan grabbed my face. “Swallow.”
I searched his eyes for a moment, quickly realizing that he wasn’t going to release me until I did as he asked. Even if the jet landed and we were supposed to be getting off, probably to head back to mine and Hotch’s place to finish all of this, Morgan was going to sit there with me until I swallowed. I had no choice. While keeping my gaze even with his, I slowly swallowed the load he gave me. When I was done, I opened my mouth to prove my success, and he finally let go of me while grinning.
“Was that so hard?” he teased.
“Mistress,” Spencer moaned, his voice muffled somewhat, “I can’t take it anymore.”
Morgan and I looked away from each other to investigate what was happening, and it was just as our attention was brought to him that we saw Spencer slump as he gave up. Emily was still fucking him, don’t get me worng, but his poor, red, needy cock was leaking, begging for the cock rings to be taken off so that he could ejaculate— and he just couldn’t take the denial anymore. He couldn’t take being on the brink constantly. Holding his posture for her so that he could fuck his ass, keeping his head turned so that we could hear his pathetic noises, all of that meant nothing to him now. They had finally broken him.
“It hurts,” he complained.
“Color,” she whispered, brushing his curls back so that she could lean over his back and start kissing his neck lovingly.
“Green, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m gonna—”
“The two of you and not being able to hold it today,” Elle scolded, moving her fingers faster inside of my ass. “It’s like we need to teach you guys how to behave again and work on your stamina.”
Spencer and I quickly exchanged a worried glance. We hadn’t done stamina in so long. This was close, sure, but actual stamina training with Elle was the worst— especially if Hotch were there. They liked to tie me and Spencer up so that couldn’t move a single muscle, and then they’d press a vibrator against my clit while Spencer got the fleshlight. For hours, we would have to lay there, edging again and again as Hotch and Elle turned on my vibrator and started fucking the fleshlight over Spencer’s cock, and then they’d stop when we were close enough. It was torture. They purposefully gave us hard edges. The longer we went, the more rewards we earned for the week, but if we came, they ruined our orgasms before painfully continuing, and all of it was for the sake of increasing our stamina during sex and teaching us how to hold back our orgasms until we had permission. It worked after a while. Spencer was a lot worse at it than I was, but we finally got the hang of it, and the two of us were pretty good about holding out until we had proper permission; but there was just something about the atmosphere of being on the jet compared to being at someone’s house or in a hotel room that had our brains melted down to nothing. I had orgasmed once without permission, and there were multiple occasions while Hotch and Elle were fucking me from behind that I felt myself getting there again— and if they weren’t so good about pulling away on time to edge me, I would have cum again without permission, regardless of the punishment. But Spencer… He was trying so hard to be their good boy. He had touched himself without permission, which he knew wasn’t allowed, so he had accepted that he wasn’t allowed to cum, but those cock rings were straining against him, practically milking him considering the way he was leaking so helplessly; and it was just too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“Bunny, if you cum, we’re going to have to put you in your cage,” Emily warned.
“We should anyways,” Hotch panted from behind me.
Spencer shook his head urgently. “No. Please. I’ll be good. I- I prom… I promise.” He sighed as Emily changed her pace while fucking him. “I promise.” It sounded like he was crying now. “I promise…” Our little broken record. “I promise.” Not a single thought in that pretty head of his.
Hotch pulled out of me suddenly and he snatched away Elle’s fingers. My legs shook as my sudden, unexpected, unplanned orgasm was completely ruined. I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was watching Spencer fall apart, the next, I was clenching around nothing as my orgasm peaked yet I got no relief from the feeling since they had removed the stimulation when I needed it most. My clit was throbbing. I fell, just like Spencer, my cheek crashing against Morgan’s warm thigh.
“Their cuffs,” Hotch said pressingly. Morgan reached for his pants that were pooled at his ankles, and he grabbed the key from his pocket, then he handed it off to Hotch. “We’re done with you, baby girl,” he told me. I shook my head. I needed to cum. I had to… I had to cum… Geez, I felt as broken as Spencer looked. “Can you stand?” I shook my head again. “Okay…” He freed my hands and rubbed my wrists to ease the pain from every time I struggled against the metal bondings. “How bad is it?” he asked, taking my leash and gently tugging, a signal that he wanted me to turn around face him. I did so. When he saw my face, he chuckled, and Elle followed shortly, the two of them so impressed by how broken I must have looked. I knew that my hair was a mess, my eyes and bottom lip were pouting, and my legs were still shaking. I looked ridiculous. “That bad, princess?” He stroked his cock at the sight of me.
“Fuck them again like this,” Elle encouraged seductively in his ear. “Both of them on their backs…” she said a little louder so that everyone could hear her. “Taking what we give them.”
Hotch fell in love with the idea, immediately shooing Morgan off the couch so that he could throw me onto it. I yelped as I landed on the cushions. My right thigh was just next to Spencer’s face— so close that I could feel his pants against my skin— and Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were standing just in front of me, licking their hips with lust and hunger in their eyes. Hotch was still running his grip up and down his length at the sight of me.
“Look at the mess we made, bunny.” Morgan reached over and pulled at Spencer’s hair, pulling him upright so that his back was pressed flush against Emily’s chest as she used the new angle to fuck him harder and deeper. Spencer’s engorged penis twitched at the sight of me. My panties were soaked with a mixture of my wetness and cum. “Don’t they look so stupid?”
Spencer nodded while screwing his shut in response to Emily’s cock hitting a new spot inside of him. “Yes, Daddy. They look so good.”
I rolled my hips around, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My whole body was on fire, and I just needed someone to touch me again. I needed to touch Spencer, which was the worst part, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me, and even if I could, a single touch was going to set him off, and I would’ve felt bad if they ruined him, too.
“You want me, baby?” Hotch teased, gliding his thumbs over my hard nipples through my shirt.
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“You want me to breed you?”
I let out a shaky breath before gulping and nodding. “Yes, Sir.”
He stopped fucking with me and he instead went back to stroking his cock. “I know you want to cum, baby,” he cooed, “but you can’t… Rules are rules.” He started fucking his fist faster. “Good girls get to cum.” His breath was ragged now. “You weren’t good.”
Elle grabbed his face and turned him so that they were suddenly kissing, and he pushed his hand past her pants and panties so that he could press a finger directly against her clit. They moaned together.
“I’m going to cum,” Spencer warned. Morgan was holding his leash taut, forcing Spencer to keep his back against Emily’s chest while she moaned into his neck and left a hundred different hickies. “Please. Please, Mistress.”
“I can’t hold it.” He was leaking onto my knee now, that was how close together we were.
“I said, no. You cum, you get caged.”
“Fuck—” What Emily said did the opposite of what she had intended. Instead of deterring him from cumming, the threat of being locked up in a cock cage enticed Spencer, tipping him over the edge that he needed so badly. “I’m cumming!”
Just as his dick started twitching, Elle jumped into action, quickly grabbing my hips and turning me so that Spencer was lined up between my legs, and she pushed my panties to the side. Emily fucked harshly into Spencer as he started cumming. The force of her action jolted Spencer forward, putting his tip directly at my entrance. We both moaned at the feeling. I needed him, and it seemed he needed me, because when he felt how wet I was, his weak, repressed load slowly poured into me. He had tried to hold back. I could tell with how sad his orgasm was and how he was whimpering that he didn’t want to cum. He wanted to be good for them. But Emily fucking him, Morgan trying to choke him with the collar, the cock rings squeezing his penis and swollen balls, and my torture that he was witnessing was all too stimulating to every single one of his senses. He had to cum the same way I had to cum earlier when they denied my orgasm.
Emily stopped fucking him to make sure that the orgasm was shorter and to ensure that he didn’t go any further into me than necessary. They wanted his cum to be inside of me, but that was it. They didn’t want either of us to enjoy it.
Without warning, Hotch grabbed my hips away from Elle, putting me back where I was so that I was facing him, and he thrust into me suddenly, cumming within an instant, too. “Fuck…”
He came much harder than Spencer had because he wanted to give me everything, to fulfill the breeding kink we had. All I felt was the stretch and the warmth of his semen, though, because he refused to thrust to help ride out his high since it would have inevitably pleased me, too, and that wasn’t the point. He wanted me to be full and to get nothing out of it.
When he caught his breath, he pulled out of me slowly. I whined at the loss. “Did you learn a valuable lesson?” he questioned.
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“No cumming without permission. Ever. Under any circumstances. My orgasms don’t belong to me.”
“Good girl. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom then come back for water, a snack, and play with Spencer’s hair.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, baby.”
I melted at the praise. “Really, Sir? Even though I broke a thousand rules?”
“Even then. You did good.”
Emily got the cuffs off Spencer, and he immediately went to pry off the cock rings, but Morgan slapped his hands away. Spencer stared at me as Morgan started gently pulling off the metal one around his shaft. “Daddy,” he hissed, his eyes clenching shut. Emily and Elle were running their fingers through Spencer’s hair already to help him calm down. “Fuck,” he gasped when it was off. “Thank you.” He then prepared himself as Morgan went to release the tie that was around Spencer’s balls. When the pressure was gone, Spencer slumped, falling somewhat, and we all reached forward to catch him. “Thank you.” Hotch kissed Spencer’s temple and pulled him onto his lap on the couch. “I’m sorry for cumming without permission.”
“We’ll call it even, bunny,” Morgan said, referencing how I had done the same thing. “You and baby did so well.”
Elle grabbed the lotion from Spencer’s bag that he used for aftercare, and she started massaging it between his cheeks as Hotch continued to hold him. “You, too,” she told me while still tending to Spence. I went to sit down, but Emily beat me to it, taking the only spot left beside Hotch, and she patted her hands on her lap. I laid over her the same way Spencer was on Hotch. Our faces were close again.
“May we?” Spencer begged.
“Yes,” Morgan answered.
Just as Elle started using her other hand to massage some lotion onto my ass, Spencer and I started kissing. He tasted so good. It was comforting rather than erotic, and I felt myself slowly easing out of sub space in a way that didn’t let me drop. I hoped that he was okay, too.
I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you, Spence.”
He kissed me harder before mumbling, “I love you, too.”
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