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#i think emily will need therapy just from all the things she's finding out about tbh
a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
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Emily and the extra realization that an angel had her wings torn off and eye gouged out and halo repossessed and was left for dead in hell- why exactly??
Emily: "A child."
Lute: "A filthy little sinner."
Emily: "You did all that to her, because she showed a moment of mercy to, a C H I L D?"
Lute: "Yes."
Emily: "And then you tried blackmailing her with this??"
Lute: "Yes."
Emily: "That's terrible."
Lute: "I'll admit it didn't work how we wanted it to, but the broken look on her disgusting little demon fling's face was still worth it."
Emily: "I meant that it was a wrong and terrible thing to do TO her. And to Charlie!"
Lute: "They've probably already broken up by now. That traitor will spend her final hours alone and wretched with nothing but her own failings to keep her company."
Emily: "How you can SMILE while saying that!?"
Lute: "Oh don't worry, she'll be out of her misery soon enough."
Emily: "..... respectfully Lute, I hope she fucks you up a little."
Lute: There's no chance in hell.
Lute: (comes back sans arm after getting a little fucked up by vaggie in hell)
Emily: "HA!"
Emily: "Anyway have you met our newest angel Sir Pentious? Sir Pentious is an angel now. He arrived here fresh from hell. Did you know sinners can be redeemed and Charlie was right and you were wrong and Vaggie did the right thing and Sir Pentious was just telling me allllll about how they made up and it was very cute and they're probably going to be in love forever? Meanwhile, YOU on the other hand- oh I'm so sorry, Lute. Too soon?" :)
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blackquillchillin · 1 month
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Okay for Simon romancing people in Stardew Valley, we gotta evaluate the potential relationship with each of the characters, so, starting with the Bachelors!!
Alex: gives young person vibes, similar to how Sam does, but more then that i just don't think he's Simon's type. Cocky Jock with Gridball on the brain, eh. I don't know they'd have anything to talk about, really.
Elliott: Aesthetically quite nice, though I don't know if I picture Simon as being very appearance focused in partnerships. Very Artsy. Could work, though I think Simon would be pretty neutral towards him initially.
Harvey: Huge Bonus is that he does not appear as young as some of the other Bachelors. I'm also biased, as He and Sam are the only two I've gotten to marriage to personally. (and quite liked both of them) That said...I don't think he has enough Confidence for Simon. He's dedicated to being a doctor, sure, but he's also nervous, with huge amounts of anxiety at times. He talks constantly about the health and safety of the town, but when other topics do come up, particularly in dating, he's easily flustered. As cute as i find him (and his mustache) I don't think Simon would be interested.
Sam: Reads as too young. everything's still about skateboards and music. Not too young for romance, mind, I romanced him, but too young for Simon. does have golden retriever energy though, which is nice, and really loves his younger brother, also a plus. and he does grow a little once married, But I think it would feel weird. Better match for someone Athena or Apollo's age.
Sebastian: Now here's where we get into the fun stuff!! I think Sebastian would NOT like Simon, who in turn would be....very neutral towards the young man, and completely unaware of the one sided rivalry brewing. See, a lot of the problems Sebastian faces are concerns about not being able to establish himself. He's living in his Mom's basement, with his Step Father he dosn't get along well with, and half-sister who he sees as being favored over him. He also feels no one takes his job seriously, (example, in his two heart event we learn Abigail plans to come visit regardless of him working) but one thing he IS is the town's resident Goth, even more so then Abby. So, imagine, just imagine, how frustrating it would be for him when Simon rolls up, Grumpy and Standoffish, Shock of black hair, dressed all in black, hawk perched on his shoulder, already having his own space with a job everyone recognizes and not having to answer to anyone. If we wanted to count who's edgier, Simon's even been to prison. Heck, in this world he might even have prison tats, anything could happen. And Simon? not the least bit concerned about this, or even aware.
Shane: On the one hand, no one should romance Shane. Shane needs a friend, absolutely, but he also needs therapy, and is not ready to commit to marriage. I might feel differently about this if he wasn't returning to drinking after tying the knot, or reacted to you giving him Beer after quitting. On the other hand, they're both deeply troubled, and I absolutely pair deeply troubled fictional characters, both romantically and platonically. (Bobby Lives! Blackbright whomst, on both counts) They could be deeply troubled.....together..........
And that's the Bachelors! Next up, Bachelorettes..... Abigail: One of her Big character conflicts is growing pains and tension with her Dad. Too young for Simon.
Emily: Too new age-y. I do think they could be friends, though. She'd gift him crystals to "help him absorb negative energy" and he'd get caught in anything she's hung from the ceiling, like dream catchers or beaded curtains. She would be brightly optimistic even as he grouses about life, though wouldn't always appreciate his sarcastic ways.
Haley: Okay hear me out, same energy as Blackmahdi, or NyQuill as I prefer to call it. Sure, it's missing the Ying-Yang color scheme, but consistently arguing? taking pot-shots at each other? both being complex characters with real human motivations underneath their cruel exterior? yeah. It could work. Emily wouldn't be thrilled that that's how they talk to each other though.
Leah: Don't have a reason for it other then I just don't see it. Like, sure, it could happen, but I just don't think it would, you know?
Maru: Simon would be immediately put off by her dad, like that's a big no. Also, she reads fairly young, being at least younger then Seb. also, while he may be reasonably fond of her as a person, (or maybe not, i dunno) I think growing up with Aura may have killed any interest in inventors in general.
Penny: Okay, I know I said Harvey was too timid for Simon, and Penny doesn't exactly exude confidence, but it's not the same. She's a lover of children, who's actively trying to teach the only two children in town. She's aggressively helpful, and trapped in rough circumstances. Also, he could sweep her up in his arms and hold her close and she could gently help him through his anxiety attacks and no I'm not projecting-
Lastly, It's not Romance, but Platonic,
Krobus: No notes. Sweet little guy. Perfection. Simon would share his house with him, as would anyone.
And that's the list!! let me know if you want to hear potential dynamics with the other townsfolk, I may have more thoughts about some of them then others, of course.
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etovest-archived · 10 months
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I do want to hear about warren's emasculation please tell me more
CERTAINLY! i want to preface this by saying that all of what I'm about to say is just a personal interpretation of a character because I Love to read too much into anything but also. Everything Is There.
To explain more plainly I do think Warren has an extremely conflicted relationship with gender and masculinity. We know he was abused, we know his father was a sexual predator, we don't know the Extent of the abuse but we don't really need to. What we can infer from this is that the first role model he had for masculinity in his childhood was beyond fucked up, and therefore his own view of How A Man Should Act has been distorted. Now obviously he doesn't Want to be like his father, but these things leave their marks and more often than not they don't even scar, they remain open wounds. (I also don't think he's had much time to address this, the timeline regarding his time in prison is foggy at best, but Emily does imply that he ran away from home as soon as he could, so I really don't believe he's had Therapy, y'know.)
Then there's the whole "I wasn't hitting back not because I thought myself better, but because I thought myself weaker" that tells us also another thing regarding his bias as what a Manly Man is: whether it be physicality or character, he doesn't think he fits the right criteria, and we all know what bullies say to their victims, they often hit weak spots. Which leads me to believe that his perception of his own gender is somewhat deformed, warped. He Needs to be a man, because everything tells him he should, but he Doesn't Want to be one, or, let's say, he doesn't want to be the type of man that he's always known. Like, for example, Bryony says Warren told her he "felt emasculated" by the fact that she was the one paying all of their bills, so she let him pay for the broadband, and then he replies: actually I just wanted to get the movie package, which of course could be a lie told because he was embarrassed, but I believe he was genuine in this, and thus I also believe that he was Playing a character. Masculinity itself is highly performative, what with the whole western constructed way of societal norms and toxicity (I'm from Italy, we are the poster children for that), so it could be said that Everyone is playing a character regarding their gender, and that Everyone should address how fucked up that is, but Warren plays a character with clothes that don't fit. He's a man, he doesn't necessarily want to be, he just thinks he should.
Now, this is where my interpretation kind of takes the highway out of canon and becomes more Hypothesis and What Ifs, but I have the "I think of nothing. I simply am not" branded with fire on the folds of my brain, so I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about it. I'm a big fan of voids, and hole theory, and how nothingness itself is an oxymoron (how can Nothing exist? If its defining quality is the lack of something, does Something exist? or is it the lack of nothing that defines Something? Fun stuff) AND I also really like this piece by Audrey Wollen. Of course, Warren's desire for the total annihilation of self is deeply linked with his trauma and his cptsd, his general suicidal tendencies, but also. What If. What if he wants to be nothing because everything he's tried has sucked him dry, if the way he's lived so far was by being chained to the Conforming Way Of How A Man Should Be. It's just a single part of his character, of course, yet I find it extremely fascinating!! Warren wants to be nothing and then somewhere along the lines this changes, I can't wait to see How this is handled in season 3 I am going to pass out now.
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saltygilmores · 10 months
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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls- Season 2, Episode 16, "There's The Rub", aka a Masterpiece of Gilmore-dom, AKA Forrester Can't Bring Me Down, AKA Jess Rory And Paris Eat Together And All Is Right With The World-Part 2
Before we continue I'd like to acknolwedge the sweet and thoughtful people who have been leaving generous compliments about this shitcircus of a thing I'm doing here. Mwah. Who's ready for more TTR? (PS-Don't forget to check out part 1 and all of the previous episodes I've recapped! You can find them in my pinned post. Tryna work on a new master index in the meantime).
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Dean Forrester's reaction to a woman talking. Can I just ask a question? Forrester, why are you even with this girl in the first place? Why did this relationship drag out over the course of five long years? You clearly don't like her. Every word she says seems to bore and annoy you. You don't want to join in any activities with her. She's clearly not gonna have sex with you (yet). You don't respect her or support her in any of her endeavors. Every week you do something to frighten her or make her fear you, and frankly, she's not a big fan of yours either. Truly, what is in it for you? Oh right, it's cause you're using her so you can eventually fuck her Mom. Silly me. Carry on, you sexist worm (no offense to decent worms everywhere).
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Rory:
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R: Do laundry, and watch tv and eat the Indian food that I love but my mom hates. Can ya'll believe this is an actual exchange of words that is happening right now? They're really going back and forth so Rory can gain Dean's approval to do her laundry. Oh hey, my Gilmore Girls Bingo Card is filling up! We have a "Dean, are you mad?" TIMES TWO.
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WHY SHOULD HE BE MAD THAT YOU WANT TO SPEND ONE EVENING WITHOUT HIM. RORY... PLEASE. This is so worrisome.
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Idk maybe cause you're a fucking tapeworm? Sorry tapeworms. You're head lice. Your leather coat fucking smells.
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WHAT IS HAPPENING? Dear God, Rorygil. I love you but please grow a spine. In the span of mere minutes we saw her cave under pressure from Paris to the point she agreed to tutor her for an entire week, which was totally unnecessary. Paris was asking for like, one evening. A minute later RoryGil caves under pressure from Dean, and now she's talking like she's going to cater to his every (probably sick and perverse) need like some kind of servant, just because he scowled when she said she wanted to do her laundry. THERAPY NOW, RORYGIL.This people-pleasing is wildly out of control. If therapy is not a viable option, just fucking kick Forrester in the nuts and tell Paris to chill because you'll have plenty of time to play Dysfunctional Marriage when you're older and married to each other someday.
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(TWWGG is alone in her room, repeatedly saying KICK HIM IN THE NUTS out loud) IT'S OKAY NEIGHBORS. I'M JUST YELLING AT DEAN FORRESTER. FICTIONAL CHARACTER FROM EARLY 2000s TV SITCOM. SLIMY WORM. NOTHING TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT. GO ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS. Let me translate this DeanSpeak for you. I'm a pro. "I'm a saint": "I'm a saint for dating you even though you won't let me do things like come over while your mom is out of town and feel you up on the couch." "I'm confused": "I'm confused as to why you would ever prefer blissful solitude over giving me an awkward handjob on your Mom's couch." You know, if you weren't enough of a worm as it is, you probably fucking pressure her sexually too. Me singing to Dean Forrester:
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Is a kissing coach a thing? Couldn't someone at the WB Network put aside a couple of bucks to teach Jared Padalecki how to kiss? Barring that, at least a blow up doll or pillow to practice on? The fault CLEARLY does not lie with Alexis Bledel.
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Can you imagine you're AB, you fucking get paid to kiss Milo at work and if that wasn't enough, you're really dating him, so you leave your job where you got paid to kiss him all day and go kiss him some more at home... I think about this A LOT. Cut to Emily and Lorelai at the spa, where hell has apparently frozen over because Lorelai Gilmore has actually shut the hell up. Me trying to make small talk on a first date:
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HA, someone won't shut up and leave you alone and is constantly invading your personal space! How about them apples, Lorelai!
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What is this magical place called a "Quiet Room" and can I shove any gilmore girls character of my choosing in there at any time? L: Mom, you booked us for a couples massage. Do you know what most couples do 5 minutes after this is over? They have sex, together, probably while wearing their robes. Someone on Gilly Girls said S-E-X. I am scandalized! E: You've been pouting, sighing, sulking, mumbling, rolling your eyes the whole time. L: That's just how I detox. LMAO. What a stellar line. This episode is so great. Despite the presence of Forrester the Worm.
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Whoa Nelly! What kind of cosmic alignment was in place that day for Lorelai to actually apologize for something?
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Err, two things... Firstly: Mr. Peanut Pajamas. I always love Rory's pajamas and I wonder where they all came from. Secondly: Is Rory running a laundry service for all 9,000+ citizens of Stars Hollow out of her home? Five days a week she wears a school uniform. Where did all these clothes come from?
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I love it when Paris shows up on Rory's door step, she always looks like an abandoned puppy looking for a home for the night. And she sort of is. P: I tried to stay home and study by myself! But I can't! There is this aching in my heart that I just cannot ignore! It grows louder and louder by the minute! Rory Gilmore, I love you! Will you marry me? Okay, so I made up everything past the first line, but you know she was thinking it.
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Paris guilt trips Rory into letting her stay because Rory feels bad that Paris' parents don't love her. Poor RoryGil. Just let her LIVE. R: Fine I'll study with you for one hour then you have to go home!
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Narrator: Paris Geller would not in fact, be going home, but her NotGoingHomeNess would make for one enchanted evening.
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Literally puppy eyes! This is after Rory said they would start studying after she got changed, and Paris responded "My hour doesn't start until you get back, right?" To be continued.
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lucreziaq2001 · 5 months
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•TV show: "Criminal minds".
•Content warnings: A hospital having been closed because they did electroshock therapy and caused serious brain damage to people and the writer who is looking into the case thinking that since the doctor who led that hospital is dead, he won't be able to find out anything else.
•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.
•I obviously made up David's granddaughter Heather and her husband and sons. I did it because I needed them for the story.
•Pauline Leonard is also a character from "Boy crazy".
•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @rynwritesreid, @chrrysgirl, @amerrymango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @hugyourlungs, @strangermoonlove.
The bridge to Heaven
Chapter 16: The answer to every question
Three days later, David and his wife took a break from the investigation that was now taking up practically all their time for a very important occasion.
Their first great-grandchildren, Benjamin and Lucas, the twin sons of their granddaughter Heather, were turning 1 and for that occasion, at lunchtime, the woman and her husband William had invited David and Erin to eat at their house.
They were going to have a party for the twins that afternoon, but since the children's great-grandparents wouldn't have been able to attend, that lunch was an opportunity to celebrate with them too.
For a while, the two couples played with the children and made small talk, but then, while they were eating, Heather made an important announcement to her grandparents.
"After our phone call two days ago and what you told me, I decided to investigate about Brockview, the hospital Emily was taken to" she said, and Erin and Dave were amazed by that revelation.
Usually, Heather was the one who stayed furthest away from stories like Emily's among their grandchildren.
She was a very sensitive person and hearing things like that was really difficult for her, so learning that she had started to take an interest in that case was pretty shocking to her grandparents.
"And what did you discover?" David asked her a few seconds later.
"It was closed in 1972, after destroying the brains of three teenagers with electroshock" his granddaughter explained to him without worrying about the presence of her children, because they still wouldn't have been able to understand what they were talking about.
"It was still an experimental therapy at the time and it caused serious brain damage" William, who like his wife, had become interested in Emily's story those days, added.
"Do you know who the doctor was?" Erin then questioned.
"Russell Kearns. He died in 1985" Heather responded.
"Oh, no!" David exclaimed, thinking that therefore, they wouldn't have received any information about what had happened in that hospital.
"Did he have an assistant?" he added a few seconds later, remembering that possibility.
"Yes, Pauline Leonard. She was the nurse at an elementary school in Philadelphia, but she also worked shifts in the sexual identity disorder department at Brockview Hospital, right around the time Emily was hospitalized" his granddaughter explained.
"Great. If you can contact her, have her come to my house" Dave then told her.
That woman would soon have been the answer to every question he still had about Emily's case.
He was sure of it.
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confoundedluna · 2 years
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i'm bored so i'm gonna rank some until dawn ships i think, these are all personal opinion, y'all can ship what you want, i don't think there's anything inherently wrong with any until dawn ship apart from shipping the Washingtons together, no incest in this household y'all
anyway, here goes :) i'm just gonna start with the major ships, if I miss any big/popular ones let me know, maybe I'll do a part two of this, who knows
Josh x Sam
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This one i'm iffy on, I think they're incredibly cute as friends, and Sam's ending line about them having a connection is heartbreaking, you can tell she was probably the closest of the group to the Washingtons besides Chris
I personally headcanon Josh as gay with some major comphet, so I think he mistook his closeness with Sam - either lesbian or bisexual, I go back and forth, but queer in some way - for romantic feelings
As a ship? hmm like a 7/10, there's definitely worse
Josh x Chris
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I am such a strong lover of Climbing Class, best friends to lovers your honour, I think after the game if you subscribe to the belief that Josh is somehow rescued and helped (which I do let me Live) then they would definitely need some therapy together but then again they all do
anyway you can just tell how close they are from their nicknames and their casual interactions and especially how Chris rushes to rescue Josh after The Stranger turns up
official rating, I think a 9/10, not perfect but love them :)
Jessica x Mike
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as the gif says, they are so freaking cute, I am in absolute love with them. they definitely have some issues from Em, could probably do with some couples therapy, but nothing beats the way Mike rushes to save her when she gets dragged away
just. aaaaaaa. that is all.
honestly dropping the 10/10 here, even if they need the therapy - I wholeheartedly ship them
Chris x Ashley
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y'all can hate Ashley all you want but I love her and I do genuinely like her and Chris together - yes I ship Chris with both her and Josh, let the man get some bitches smh they're cute
obviously she can do the worst thing and let him be locked out but y'all act like you wouldn't be pissed if the person you loved and thought loved you too did actually try to shoot you without question
anyway ship rating 9/10, they're cute, sue me
Jessica x Matt
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I was surprised to find how common this one is? but the more I thought about the more I was like 'holy shit wait yes I love them'
I think they'd have some shared guilt over missing most of the night - obviously they both encounter the truth in the mines, but they never learn firsthand things like that that is Hannah or about Josh screwing with them, so there's definitely solidarity there
romantically I think about an 8/10, not my first choice but I definitely appreciate them
Emily x Mike
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so Emily and Mike, we only get a brief glimpse at them actually together, but Emily seems possessive and later hung up on him, maybe it's just her feeling betrayed because Jess got with him and they were friends?? but I don't like them together
ship rating, like a 2/10, because in another lifetime they could have been a power couple ngl - he's class president, and she's got a 4.0 and is on the honour roll, honestly pop off
Emily x Matt
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Emily and Matt, their relationship is kinda tainted by the Mike and Emily stuff, but they are adorable in the DLC scenes together and Matt especially is clearly devoted to her from his ending interviews, could probably do with some couples therapy too
ship rating, like a 5/10, maybe 7/10 if you keep their relationship high and get their positive scenes, forever salty that the DLC wasn't just part of the regular game
Chris x Mike
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rounding out with this one because I've seen it a surprising amount in fanfiction and it always throws me off?? so I just wanna mention it - I kinda get where people come from, they have a fun dynamic in their few scenes together
however, as an overall ship, I definitely have others that I prefer, and I just don't find enjoyment in this one that I assume the people who write them do, the jock and nerd dynamic is cute but I don't see much substance behind it
rating wise, I'll give it like a 4/10, nothing wrong with it as far as i can tell, just not my cup of tea
so that's this post done, I know there's some more common ones I could have mentioned, but i'm happy with this for now, I'll see if I feel up to another part at some point :)
also remember, again this is just for fun, the only ships from until dawn I will actively hate on are any Washington incest ships, thank you
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leafs-lover · 2 years
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Too Far Gone - Part Forty One
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Series Masterlist
Warnings: Swearing, therapy, smut. I think that's it
Word Count: 6500
October 9, 2019
Auston did not see Tia much over the next few days. When he returned to her apartment after Fred’s birthday dinner she was already asleep. And the next day was the season opener, and then she had class, and then, and then. There was always something, and if there wasn’t, Tia went to her room. Not to bed, she would be at her desk sketching or working on an assignment. Auston knows she is a student and has to study, but it felt like she was upset and avoiding him.
She was.
When Taylour returned home with Emily and Becks that night, Thomas was gone. They could tell she was upset, and once Taylour fell asleep Tia told them every painstaking detail. She tried not to cry, but she did, they all did. Once all the tears had fallen, she was no longer upset, she was mostly disappointed in herself for ignoring all the signs. She blocked his number from her phone, deleted the entire message thread including the three he had sent since leaving, then removed every trace of him from her social media.
She had removed him from her life. She spent days not thinking about him and what he did, was actually feeling good about everything, then came Heidi along and all she did was ask about it.
It was twenty minutes of “why are you upset with yourself more than him?” “why did you keep going back to him?” “why didn’t you trust your first gut instinct on him?” and “why did you get into a relationship knowing you weren’t mentally or emotionally prepared?”
But the main thing Heidi focused on was the comments he made about her profession, and how those specifically made her feel. It was taxing, constantly being berated with questions over something that Tia didn’t want to waste another breath on.
“Why do you think the comments he made about your profession bothered you so much?”
“How could they not?” Tia scoffs an obvious crease forming in her brows.
Heidi closes her notebook and uncrosses her knee from the other. Setting the notebook down, she looks Tia in the eyes and gives her a soft and reassuring smile. “There is no arguing that what he said is hurtful. But it’s not just how he spoke to you that is making you feel this way, it’s the fact that he implied you aren’t good enough for him solely based on your profession. It’s something you have been struggling with ever since you decided to become a stripper.”
“Well, I never planned on being one,” Tia attempts to defend herself, but her voice is quiet.
“Do you think most strippers plan on being one? Or do you think circumstance led them there?” Heidi continues to probe her.
“Well I…I mean…probably not.” After stumbling through her thoughts, Tia bites the inside of her lip and nods in agreement. None of the women at the Brass Rail envisioned that for their life, some like Tia are using it to help pay for school, others like Sarah needed the support to leave an unhealthy relationship, and others find themselves out of all other options. Regardless of what led them there they all find the money too hard to walk away from. “It’s different being a mom and a stripper though. I’m trying to set an example for Taylour, but what kind of example am I setting when I do that at night?”
“You are working hard to provide for him, so he didn’t have to grow up wondering where his next meal will come from like you did when you first moved here,” Heidi offers, but Tia just shakes her head and offers no rebuttal. “Why do you doubt yourself so often?” Heidi’s eyes soften as she attempts to guide Tia down the familiar trail.
“It’s hard not to. Becoming a single mom so young wasn’t easy, in fact it was fucking hard. I was barely an adult, a kid raising a kid,” she laughs ridiculousness of it. “I basically was forced to grow up overnight.”
“Did it happen overnight though?” Heidi counters. “You left Zurich at sixteen weeks pregnant, almost seven weeks before you originally planned because you wanted to raise your baby away from your fathers’ restrictions. You found an apartment and a job all on your own. Months before you gave birth to Taylour you were making decisions for him and acting like a mother.”
“It wasn’t easy,” Tia replies. “I had no help. Yes, I had my friends, and they became this sort of surrogate family for me, but nothing can replace the love or the support Auston would have given. It was hard, still is hard being a student and a mother…trying to figure out his life when I don’t have mine figured out yet.”
“Nobody figures life out Tia,” Heidi informs her. “How do you think your life would be different if Auston had of been there for those three years?” Tia doesn’t even try to hide the roll of her eyes, it’s such a stupid question. “Besides the obvious of Auston helping to raise Taylour.”
“When Taylour was screaming at 2am and I was bawling my eyes out because I didn’t know how to make him stop and I felt like a failure, he would have been there. When Taylour was sick for the first time and I spent the night on WedMD, Auston would have reassured me it was just a cold and not to trust the internet, he would have kept me calm even though he was panicking on the inside. When I was breaking down over the prospect of adoption, he would - it wouldn’t have gotten to that point. Everything would have been different if he was there to help and support me.”
“You don’t think you have his support now?” Heidi turns the tablet around, letting Tia see the screen of her security camera. Auston is sitting in his car with the engine off and windows down. It looks like he is on his phone, the way his eyes are trained down towards his lap. “He sits there for the entire session, never leaves.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, the realization hits her square in the chest, and she struggles to not drown under the weight of it all. “That’s different.”
“How so?”
“It’s…” Tia diverts her eyes back to Heidi and takes a deep breath, allowing herself time to compose herself. “That’s out of obligation.”
“You think Auston feels obligated to help you?”
“I’m the mother of his child, if I was anyone else he wouldn’t let himself be burdened with my crap.”
“Tia,” Heidi looks to the monitor and slowly turns it around, “love is never a burden.”
The words hang in the air as Tia considers the weight of what Heidi is saying, trying to not let it get the best of her, but it is no use. With one sniffle her lower lip began to tremble, and tears were flooding her eyes.
Heidi is right. No matter how much she pushed him aside and told him to leave he wouldn’t. No matter how mean she was, no matter how many times she hurt him – intentionally or not, Auston was there. He always would be.
“Let’s shift,” Heidi says as the end nears. “Tell me about something that brings you joy.”
One of Heidi’s many exercises is documenting good things in her life. It can be something small like someone holding open a door open, receiving a compliment, or Taylour drawing her a picture. But every session ends with Tia telling her something that brings her joy.
The first few weeks Tia hated it. What could she possibly have to be happy about? Somebody was always looking over her shoulder, the medication Auston watched her take every morning wasn’t working, and everyone had a sympathetic look whenever around her. Everything felt like it was crashing around her.
Now weeks in, and even with the news of Thomas cheating, Tia has things to be excited about. She aced a major assignment for one of her courses, Max and Emily adopted a cat named Rosco – which could also be bad because Taylour will always be asking to go there – and Taylour got himself dressed this morning. He struggled a little with the buttons and Auston had to help get his shoes on the right feet, but he basically dressed himself, which brings her joy but sadness at the same time – her baby is growing up.
“Halloween,” Tia smiles.
“Halloween?” Heidi smiles back. “Is Taylour going as a Paw Patrol character?”
“Marshall,” Tia nods back. “There wasn’t even a chance of him being anything else. He wants me to be Skye and Auston to be Zuma.”
“Are you making all of the costumes?”
“Maybe. Taylour has a costume from Auston’s birthday, I showed him a few sketches, but he is pretty set on that one. Auston has a team party later that night where he is being Freddie Mercury, he is trying to convince Taylour to be a rockstar with him.”
“He’s trying to convince a three-year old to be a musician he’s never heard of instead of his favourite Paw Patrol character?” Heidi smirks while quirking an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Tia chuckles. When Auston showed Taylour a picture of Queen and asked him what he thought, a devious grin spread on Taylour’s face and he swiftly said no. Auston tried again, this time with pictures of families dressed as Queen - trying to show him what they would look like together, Taylour once again said no. Every time he has brought it up since Taylour just laughs and tells Auston he is funny, Tia thinks it’s because Taylour genuinely thinks Auston is joking. “It’s not going well. I think he’s just going to change for the team party.”
Tia spent the next five minutes talking about the costumes, telling her about the pink fabric she bought, but didn’t have the tools to make Skye’s googles and ended up ordering them online. She tells her of the orange fabric, spray paint and hockey helmet she bought to make Zuma’s costume, because she knows that if Auston want to trick-or-treat with them – which he does – he will be dressing like Zuma. Heidi could feel the enthusiasm as she described the process and talked about making their costumes. She could tell Tia was excited.
When Tia walked out of her appointment she smiled and greeted Auston. It was almost as if a new life had been breathed into her, she felt light, happy. She asked him about his afternoon – even though she knew he spent the last hour sitting in a warm car. He gave her a generic response – nothing had happened since he last saw her and put the car in drive.
Auston wasn’t really paying attention to Tia, and maybe if he had he would have noticed that she was different. Instead, he just assumed she would be short with him, because she always was. When they returned home Tia went to retrieve Taylour from daycare when Auston reached for her wrist.
“Can we talk?” he asks, his grip but also his tone tethering her in place.
Flicking her eyes over his, she can sense frustration festering deep within him and can tell this isn’t without cause. With a small nod, Tia stops and moves closer to Auston. He releases her arm and unlocks the door, letting her walk in first.
It’s quiet, tense even as they shake off their jackets and shoes. A heavy tension filling the air - while things haven’t been perfect between them as of late, they haven’t been like this.
“I know something is bothering you.”
Auston doesn’t even try to ease into the conversation. He knew that there would be ups and downs throughout this, people not on anti-depressants have days like that. But he knows Tia, and he knows something is wrong. He held out hope she would talk to him, but as he sat in a warm car for over an hour all he could think about was how it felt like she took a major step backwards, and he wanted to know why.
“I don’t –“
“Please,” desperation is heavy in his words. “Please don’t say nothing is wrong, or you’re fine, or some other BS along those lines. You were like this before in the spring and the summer and I ignored it, then I found you lying on the kitchen floor, I’m not going to let that happen again. So, tell me what is wrong.”
Tia tries to fight the anger that is becoming hotter and thicker in her veins. Maybe if he asked instead of demanded she talk she would consider it. Maybe if he asked her if she was okay with him moving in or offered her rides instead of telling her he was taking her somewhere. Maybe if he did any number of things differently she would be inclined to talk to him. But he never asks, he only directs her.
“You don’t get to come here, force yourself into my life and demand I talk to you.” As much as she is trying to fight it, every word hits her tongue hotter than the one before. “You’re not in charge of me.”
“I’m trying to help you!” Auston groans, frustratedly running a hand down his face.
“And you thought it would be helpful to give me no space, that being forced to live with my ex-boyfriend would help me?!” The more Tia speaks, the more she loses the peacefulness she felt from Heidi and becomes annoyed.
“I thought seeing your son would be helpful,” Auston raises his voice in response to hers. “Because once I realized you weren’t dead my immediate thought was to him and how to protect him. So, when the only two options were take him to my house until you got better on your own – if you got better on your own –“ he emphasizes this part because he genuinely believed if he took Taylour and left Tia to try and find her way out of that mess alone, she wouldn’t have. Even with the help of her friends, he knew she wouldn’t have kept going to therapy or stayed on her meds, and would have found herself back with Thomas making more poor decisions. “Or this,” he eyes around to the apartment, “because there was no way I was letting Taylour be around you like that.”
Tia lets out a heavy exhale and her hands began to quiver at her sides. Drawing her gaze up from the floor, she stares him dead in the eyes to command authority. “You think you’re better than me.”
“Tia –“ Auston rolls his eyes.
“No, you do. You are some bigshot hockey player, you make $11 million dollars a season to play for one of the dynasty teams. Every girl in this city practically falls at your feet, and you can get into any club or restaurant without even trying. You literally have this entire city wrapped around your finger, and because of that you think you’re better than me.” At this point she doesn’t even know what she is saying, she is having an out of body experience and the words are spewing out like vomit. “But I don’t know how someone who has no basic respect for women – you fucking assaulted a war vet for crying out loud – could think he is better than me, or more qualified to make decisions on how to raise a child! You weren’t even here for two years; you have no idea how hard it is to be a parent!”
The second those words came out Tia regretted it.
Not the beginning, she’d stand behind those words until the day she dies – but to be fair her self-confidence is at an all-time low and she thinks everyone looks down on her. But she hates that she threw that at him. It wasn’t his decision to not be there, it was her fathers, and not once has Auston used that as ammunition against her.
“Nice Tia,” clenching his jaw, he furrows his brows at her. “Real nice.”
“Auston I –“
“I try to help you, and you take the one thing I regret yet had zero control over and throw it in my face. And for what? To win an argument?”
The worst part about what Auston is saying, is that he doesn’t sound mad, only pain is coming through. Taking a few steps towards the door Auston begins to gather his belongings when he shakes his head and looks back at her. “Don’t worry about me for dinner, I’ll figure something out.”
The heavy thud of the door slamming practically scares the tears out of her – with a soft sniffle they begin to stream down her cheeks. The weight of her mistake overwhelms her and she crumples into a ball on the floor, her head landing between her knees and she cries. She thought she was doing better, thought she was making progress, but that just proved she has a long way to go.
**
Becks had barely made it into her bedroom when she felt a buzzing in her back pocket. Dropping her purse and keys in a pile on the bed, she answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey Tia,” she huffs. Walking over to her dresser she pulls her glasses off and puts the call on speaker phone, starting the process of getting changed from work. “How’s it going?”
Peeling her shirt off she is met with silence on the other end and, is about to lean over the screen to ensure she didn’t accidentally hit the mute button or disconnect the call, when she hears a sniffle. And another. Tia isn’t speaking. All Becks can hear is staggered breathing and sniffling coming through the speaker.
“Tia?” she asks, panic rumbling through her. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” she sniffles again. “I fucked up Becks, really fucked up.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
Becks quickly hit the end button and found a shirt on the floor, Camille’s t-shirt she wore to bed last night, but at this point she doesn’t care. She didn’t even have time to put on shoes, she couldn’t worry herself with finding a proper shirt.
Unsure of what to find, but half expects a scene similar to what Auston found a month ago, Becks breathes out a sigh of relief when there was no evidence of drugs or alcohol. But how relieved can you be when you see your best friend sobbing uncontrollably on the kitchen floor?
“Hey.” Becks speaks softly as she slides down beside her friend. Bringing a hand out she grabs at her bicep – the only part of her arm she can reach as Tia’s head is resting on her forearm – and gives it a soft squeeze. “What’s going on?”
“I fucked up,” Tia cries. “Like really fucked up.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Becks tries to comfort her.
Tia continues to cry for a few more minutes, and Becks tries to offer support, but it is hard to do that when all she hears is sobs and uneasy breathing. After what feels like an hour, Becks feels her friend start to ease up and decides to prompt her again.
“Whatever it is,” she speaks softly Tugging her arm out she tilts Tia’s chin, trapping her gaze. “Whatever it is, it’s probably not as bad as you think.”
Tia sighs and releases a deep shaky exhale full of dread. “I told Auston he didn’t know how to be a parent because he missed the first two years of Taylour’s life.” If Tia didn’t feel bad before, watching her friends face contort but knowing she is trying to keep a neutral reaction, cemented just how much she fucked up. “He was mad at me because I’m not telling him what’s going on, and… I don’t know…I just lost it.”
“You said that to him?” Becks asks. It’s all she can ask or even say, because it’s so shocking. Things may have started a little shaky between them, but Auston fought through it. He has proven himself to be a great dad, to be reliable and responsible. It’s why Tia first offered for Taylour to spend the night at his house, and to update the birth certificate without him even asking. He has been nothing short of amazing during the last ten months, and both Tia and Becks have taken notice.
“Should I call him and apologize?” Tia sniffles.
“No, you should give him some time, and then talk to him in person.” Becks responds, wiping away the lingering tears. “But I think you need to calm down a bit more first, relax.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Tia doesn’t mean to sound panicked, but it’s all she has felt since Auston walked out the door.
“Go have a bath, I’ll grab Taylour from daycare, and we’ll figure it out from there.”
**
“Auston,” Michelle gasps, knuckles turning white as she clenches the duvet. “Shit, Auston, I’m gonna –“
The words die on her lips, and before she can say anything else her toes curl into the bed. Listening to her cry out in pleasure only encourages his movements, and he hits her harder and deeper than before. Within a few thrusts he is pulling out and flipping her onto her hands and knees, driving himself back into her waiting warmth.
Michelle knew the second Auston buried himself inside he was searching for more than a physical release. He was fast and hungry with a devilish grin pressed to his face the entire time. She doesn’t know if this is normal sexual habits from him, or if something has sparked a flame inside – they only met a few months ago– but she really doesn’t care. She is fucking loving it.
He is a man on a mission, a man who has made her cum three times but still hasn’t had enough. A man who smirks every time his cock brushes against her frayed nerve, and is relishing in the harmonic sounds from his name being moaned on a continuous loop.
Beads of sweat drip down his chest, and he roughly grips her hips, thrusting his cock in while simultaneously pulling her wrecked body back on his length, not stopping until her ass his bouncing off his thighs.
“You like that?” Auston chastises, catching the string of curse words she is letting out. When she doesn’t immediately answer Auston pushes back in, chuckling when she cries out in pleasure and repeats the question, cockier than before. “You like that Michelle?”
“Yes,” her voice wavers and Auston smirks, knowing he isn’t going to last much longer.
**
After her bath, the three of them had dinner. Pizza – because Tia didn’t have the energy for anything else. Taylour told them all about daycare, rambling about the Halloween crafts they made. He asked Tia countless times when they were going to get pumpkins and tried to describe to Becks the spooky face he was going to carve into it. Then he went on about their costumes and something about ghosts, but Tia was hardly listening. Her mind was stuck somewhere else.
Within seconds of finishing his dinner, Taylour was dragging Becks to the living room to show her his tower. When it was time for bed he found three of his Halloween Paw Patrol stories – because they are all ‘his favourite’ and he couldn’t just pick one. Becks did her best to do animated voices to avoid being scolded by Taylour, and towards the end of the first one he was asleep.
Becks found Tia sitting on the couch and joined her. Crossing her legs, she pulled the fleece blanket over and waited for Tia to talk. Under normal circumstances there would be an open bottle of wine on the coffee table and half-drank glasses in their hands, but this isn’t normal circumstances. Tia hasn’t drank since that night and doesn’t think tonight is the night to start.
Tia told Becks everything. She nodded along while listening, asked questions where appropriate and when Tia was done she only had one question left, but it is the one question she wouldn’t dare ask.
Why isn’t she telling Auston what is going on? Even if she kept some of the more personal details – therapy- to herself, why hasn’t she told him anything?
Becks said it was a stupid thing to say. Something Tia already knew. Becks told her she has to apologize, again, something Tia already knew. She said to do it soon and in person, Tia knew that as well. If she knew where Auston was she would have gone there to do it. As time wore on, the conversation shifted from Auston to school, to Becks’s relationship with Camille, to her job and then to Tia’s.
“You don’t know what you’re going to do?”
“No, I have until the end of the month though,” she explains to Becks.
Tia hasn’t worked since before Labour Day weekend. Using only OSAP to pay for rent, tuition and all her other bills. Relying strictly on student loans would normally stress Tia out, but the thought of returning to the strip club stresses her out more.
“Are you leaning either way?” Becks shifts and falls into the corner of Tia’s ‘L’ shaped couch, exhaustion is heavy on her face.
“I mean I don’t have a choice,” Tia sighs defeatedly. “I have to go back.”
“Really?” Becks heart palpitates in her chest.
“I need the money,” she admits.
“Yeah,” Becks blankly nods. She wants to tell her she doesn’t, and Auston would help, but Tia is stubborn and it’s best to let her come to that decision on her own. “You don’t have to go back soon though, right?”
“James gave me until the end of the month to let him know. I think I’m going to take a couple more weeks before going back.”
“That’s a good idea,” Becks breathes out in relief, hoping the next few weeks can provide her some clarity.
They continued to talk about all the things they used to talk about, and as the clock kept ticking by, both women found themselves getting tired. Having to get up early, Becks left and Tia tried to stay awake to see Auston. She wanted to apologize as soon as possible.
She worked on an assignment – or sat at her laptop and re-read the same sentence over and over for twenty minutes, never comprehending any part of it before giving up. She cleaned up Taylour’s toys and put away the dishes. She prepared coffee for the morning and her snacks to take to class. When 11:25 rolled around Tia finally decided to go to bed. She had no idea if Auston was coming back that night, and why stay up for him to never show?
Sleep didn’t come easy. She tossed and turned, sighed multiple times and checked her phone every thirty seconds to see if there was a text from Auston. There never was.
Just as she began to drift off she felt the bed dip, and immediately woke up. “Aus?” she mumbles sleepily?”
“Yeah,” he lets out a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry,” she turns around. Propping herself up on an elbow she tries to look to his direction but can only see a silhouette through the darkness. “I’m so –“
“Can we do this later?” He replies monotonously, rolling onto his side for some space. “I’m tired.”
The movement causes her hair to shift ever so slightly, and she catches the faint whiff of perfume. She doesn’t want to be bothered by the fact that Auston was upset and slept with someone, that was basically what she used Thomas for, but she can’t help feeling like she might throw up.
“Yeah, of course,” she politely replies. Sinking back into the bed, she tries to not let the thought of Auston with someone else get the best of her, but all she can feel is a gut-wrenching pain following his rejection.
**
After a very tense breakfast Auston didn’t say anything, he just took Taylour to daycare three hours early and awkwardly stood in the kitchen waiting for her. Auston knew Tia had a late start to class, and Tia knew he didn’t have a practice or obligations with the team. They both knew they were going to talk.
“Want to go for a drive?” Tia asks, closing the door to the dishwasher
“Yeah,” he exhales, running a hand over his chiseled jaw.
If he is being honest, he didn’t really want to, but he could tell she wanted to get out and that was the only reason he agreed. He held open the door and they silently rode the elevator to his car. Apart from Tia telling him where to turn the drive was silent too. The air inside his Porsche was thick, suffocating. Tia’s foot tapped anxiously against his floor mat and she constantly wiped her sweaty palms against her jeans. When he pulled into the parking lot, Auston found a spot and they stepped out of the car.
The wind is colder than normal as it dances through the orange and red leaves that cling desperately to the branches. Tia shrugs her shoulders, pushing the collar of her jacket up over her ears and buries her hands into her pockets, trying to shield herself from the bitter wind clipping her face. It’s colder than normal for this time of year.
Auston followed her to an empty picnic table by the pond. They sit on the same side, staring out at the geese and ducks that swim around, scouting out small fish and other sources of food before continuing with their southern migration for the winter.
He wasn’t going to be the first to speak, he shouldn’t be the first to speak. Tia was thinking over everything she wanted to say, but she was left thinking how it was absurd to have gone from being able to tell him anything, to not knowing how to say something at all.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said what I said,” she finally offers. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Then why did you say it?” Auston breathes softly, his tone revealing the pain he has been internalizing.
“Honestly, and it’s a real shitty reason,” she softly sighs. “I was annoyed. All you do is tell me to talk –“
“Because you don’t tell me anything and I’m worried about you,” he defends sharply.
“I know,” she sighs again, letting remorse seep out of her words. “But all you do is tell me things; you don’t ask. I don’t feel like this is a partnership between two equals, but as if one of us is lording power over the other. As if my opinion doesn’t matter.” Auston takes a deep breath and releases a shaky exhale, he never meant to make her feel that way. “I’m not trying to justify my actions because I can’t, but I got fed up with being told to do something, feeling like a prisoner in my own home and I just snapped.” Clasping her hands together in her lap, she flicks her eyes over to him and can see the puffs of air leaving his lips with every exhale. “I really am sorry, I didn’t mean it, and I hope one day you can forgive me.”
Auston takes his time, thinking over what she said. He can see her looking at him through his peripheral, but continues to watch the Mallards swim. He sits there long after she stopped speaking, deliberating her words and what he wants to say next. Finally, he turns to face her and brings one knee up on the bench. Pulling her icy hands into his, he speaks in a soft tone.
“I forgive you, and I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” His calloused thumb softly smooths circles against her palm. “I never wanted…I –“
“I know,” Tia speaks for him as the air begins to feel lighter. “You have been very patient with me. And I know I don’t say it, or show it,” she trails off into a whisper. Even though this conversation was initiated by her, she is slowly realizing the weight of it all, and is trying to not become overwhelmed. “I am thankful for everything you do for me; I am thankful for you.”
Those five words lift the metaphorical weight that had been holding Auston down. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear them until he did, and it brings a smile to his face.
“I don’t know why you keep fighting for me,” her voice cracks and eyeline drops.
“Because,” he gently tips her chin to keep her gaze. He doesn’t just want her to hear these words, but to feel them and more importantly believe them. “I love you. I always will.”
He says it in a ‘you’re the mother of my child and someone I once loved and will always be important to me’ kind of way, but there is a part of her that feels something more.
“I love you too,” she smiles.
“I know.” He softly strokes her jaw with the pad of his thumb and lets out a peaceful exhale. “I figured you out a while ago Adams.”
“Oh yeah?” She laughs delicately, admiring the way the beating sun reflects off his amber eyes.
“Yeah,” he smirks back. Releasing her jaw, he drops his knee and turns back towards the pond. Listening as the water sloshes against the rocky shore he calmly continues. “That’s why I knew something was bothering you.”
“Auston,” she groans and shakes her head, hating how well he knows her.
“You don’t have to tell me, but you can if you want.”
Her head falls onto his shoulder as the howling wind slices against their faces. She can feel the warmth radiating off him, protecting her from the chilly Toronto air. Trying to push through what she wants to say, she takes a deep breath and lets out an exhale.
“I saw Thomas,” her voice quivers both from the cold and her nerves. “Last week when you had dinner with the team.”
“Are you…are you okay?” Auston fights to not let anger and frustration bubble through, but all Tia can feel is his shoulders stiffen and jaw click.
“I’m,” her mouth closes briefly as she considers the answer, “I’m okay.”
That pause gave Auston hope she was going to be honest, but ‘okay’ is just another variation of ‘I’m fine’ - the response he typically receives. He wants to shake her by the shoulders and scream ‘fine doesn’t mean fine’ but he rolls his eyes and bites his tongue, deciding to let her lie. Because even though she is lying, admitting she saw Thomas is the most she has revealed in weeks.
“We broke up. I mean we probably did sooner, the month of limited contact and all, but uh…yeah…we are officially broken up.”
He shifts, forcing her head off his shoulder so they can look at the other. His golden-brown eyes are burning with panic as he flicks his gaze over her face.
“I’m sorry T.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.” She doesn’t say it in a mean, condescending or even sarcastic way, it’s soft, almost a croak, as she tries to fight from breaking down.
“You can talk to me if you want,” he offers sympathetically. “I promise not to be weird.”
“He cheated on me,” she almost blurts out, needing to get it off her chest.
Auston’s heart sinks into his stomach. Letting his eyes flutter closed, he places a peck to her forehead, just like he used to when she was upset or sick. “I’m sorry you have poor choice in men.”
“Auston,” she laughs awkwardly and playfully swats at his chest.
“You’re an amazing woman,” he smirks back. “If someone cheated on you, I can only assume it’s because you have poor judgment and picked the runt of the litter. If you picked someone with half a brain they would see how amazing you are and never would have done that. So yeah, I say this is kinda on you.” He says it in a completely teasing tone, but not a single word is a lie.
The fact is Auston had women message him when he was in Zurich, fans who followed the Lions and wanted a chance to meet their young superstar. Auston opened the first few messages only because he had no idea what they wanted, but after that he would instantly delete them. Nothing was going to pull him from Tia. She was the single greatest person he had met, she had more to her than every other woman he had dated before, and he was never going to stray from her. He can’t imagine thinking Tia isn’t enough and wanting more, because one of his biggest fears during their relationship was not being enough for her.
“I shouldn’t be with someone if I’m not happy alone,” she tells him, but it’s more so directed to herself. He can tell she wants to believe those words, that she thinks by saying them they will be true, but he isn’t convinced she feels them.
“I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”
They both smile at each other then fall into a relatively easy silence. His arm wraps back around her shoulder and she nestles in close, using him to break the wind. They listen to the kids laughing at the nearby baseball diamond, dogs barking as they play together at the park. It’s the first time in weeks they are both at ease when it’s just the two of them, and neither one is fearful of what’s to come.
“Aus.” She cranes her head up, the sun catches her cheekbones and reflects off her lips back to him.
“Hmm.” He is almost disappointed the peaceful silence was interrupted. But nothing that easy ever lasts.
“You know you have to be Zuma for Halloween right?”
“Yes,” he rolls his eyes and laughs. “I’m well aware I have to dress as a stupid dog for Halloween.”
“Don’t call your sons favourite show stupid,” she claps back teasingly.
“I called Zuma stupid; he replies defensively. “Shouldn’t you be getting home? Don’t you have homework or something?” he playfully nudges her.
Shaking her head, she nestles in closer. “No, but, I do have a stupid orange dog costume to make,” she teases, bringing a soft smile to both their faces.
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Text
Putting this excerpt I just wrote under the cut for discussions of mental health, illness, infertility and past torture. Oh, and a lot of medical discussion. It's unedited, not necessarily perfectly thought out, and 1,271 words in length.
&&&&&
"Tom," said Neil, beckoning to him, "I wanted to talk to you."
"Well, that's great, because I also wanted to talk to you," said Tom. His gaze was tired, eyes half-lidded as he reluctantly left his lady's side. "What is it?"
"You first, I think," returned Neil. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Emily told me about Adira's nightmares," he said bluntly. "I'm worried about her health, mentally I mean, as well as physically."
Neil laughed dryly. "Well, a perfect coincidence: I also wanted to talk to you, as her dearest person and hence the one most likely to be helping her to heal, of any. From my assessments so far, I think she's in remarkably good mental state given all that has happened to her."
"I think she needs therapy," said Tom, jaw tightening. "You're a doctor, Uncle Neil. You can get someone for that, can't you? She needs someone, a psychologist or someone. And there's all that mess from when she was a kid, too. She needs proper help."
Neil sighed and ran a hand through his thick, already greying hair. "I agree with you. I've had these concerns for years, but never considered it of great enough importance or significance, to actually try and find someone she'll trust. With that kind of psychological mess-up, she's unlikely to want to go to a psychologist anyway when her last one failed her so badly. Unfortunately, this was state-sanctioned torture, and she's listed as a dissident, or something. As a result, they're not going to want to allow her to receive mental health care."
Eyes angry and expression hard, Tom said, "What if she's a suicide risk because of this?" Knowing how nearly he himself had died made him all the more furious on her behalf. He could not endure the idea of Adira suffering in the same way he had.
Neil winced, and said, almost apologetically, "I hate to say this, but if she did... it would get her out of their hair."
"That's evil."
"I won't deny it. They want to break her, break her will, and they failed before so they're waiting to see if the aftermath will. And hence, I am unable to get her psychological help, because that'll simply blacklist both me and anyone who agrees to it."
"Can't you talk to someone and get them to just... I dunno, talk to her? Off the books?"
He sighed. "I wish it were that easy. If the state finds out, that's going to be even worse than if it was rejected through the proper channels. I'm not sure I even know anyone I'd trust to help her, anyway, even if they agreed. Yes, I know psychologists, but maybe not ones who are sympathetic."
"So, what, I'm supposed to sit here and watch my fiancee die?" snapped Tom, twisting violently at the head of his cane and unscrewing it with jerky movements as if he was wringing someone's neck.
"I don't think she's especially high risk at this point. Right now, we need to focus on getting her physical health back to normal. You'll have observed she's extremely malnourished."
Tom's hands tightened together until it grew painful. "Yes."
"That has effects on all sorts of things, including one thing I think I ought to discuss with you as her prospective spouse."
He bit his lip until he could taste the blood flowing in his mouth. "Oh?"
Neil glanced away and ran his hand through his hair again. "How much about, um, female anatomy and fertility do you know?"
Tom's eyebrows rose in spite of himself. "Not as much as I should know." He was surprised by the question, and by how awkward Neil looked about asking it. "Why?"
"To put it bluntly, according to her report when I was doing initial damage control when she first arrived home, her period stopped within a month due to how much they restricted her food. She didn't think it was because of medication, but that's also possible; I don't have the capability to run tests to find that, not unless she goes to hospital, and I don't think that would be wise at this point. But when a woman's period stops, that's a sign of very bad, if she's not taking medication to stop it that's designed for that. Especially if related to malnutrition, which I think it is. I don't think she'll have any lasting problems, once we fix that; though there could be problems especially with bone density, given the nutritional deficiencies. And potential infertility or problems with getting pregnant. But I did consider it important to tell you about, so that you know what's going on in case she mentions it. She looked distressed by it when we were discussing it." His expression was calm, his voice clipped and clinical and completely different from the awkwardness with which he had started to explain it. It was like he was a completely different person. "And of course I asked her permission to tell you, and she gave it immediately."
Tom nodded, absently. "I see. You - you will tell me if you think she's at any significant risk of problems, won't you?"
"Certainly." He sighed. "I'm not trying to get sympathy here, because I'd do it any and every time without a shadow of hesitation. But all of the medications you've seen me use on both Emily and Adira were got from the black market. I do not own them legally. There's an advantage to being a hermit for a decade, raking in the money and barely using it. Even my house I don't have to pay anything on to the government, because it's not classed suitable land to live on, so if you can live on it you get it free. Don't ask why; I certainly don't ask. Unfortunately one that's more difficult to get is the scar-reducing cream I use. It's very important in early healing of major wounds, as it stimulates production of the original tissue rather than scar tissue. Don't ask me how it works, but it's a comparatively recent invention, and hard to get. I've already used almost all of my current stock, and will need to get more. I'm focusing on larger wounds that will genuinely inhibit her mobility if they heal poorly and because scar tissue doesn't act in the same way as healthy normal tissue. And with whatever else I have I'm trying to treat the ones on her arms and anywhere else that will be visible. Unfortunately there will still be significant scarring."
Tom bit his lip again, hard. "Should I talk to her about it?" He felt terribly helpless, forced to stand by while the girl he loved most in the world battled on her own.
"If you wish. I don't think there's any particular harm or necessity either way. But it might help her to bear it, knowing you're by her side."
"Always. I wish I could do more."
"Keep on loving her regardless, and I think that's the best you can do. And praying. Always praying."
"Always," said Tom, and clenched his fists so tightly he could feel the skin of his hands part under the pressure. "God being with her, I hope she pulls through. And I hope - " Here he uttered an extremely uncharitable view of the government that had aided and abetted what had happened to his beloved.
Neil put his hand on Tom's shoulder. "Take care of yourself and of her. She needs it. But so do you."
"I know," he said bitterly, and began to screw the head of his cane back on.
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So I started listening to this book yesterday (side note: they created the audiobook file from the book recorded onto discs and didn’t edit out the “this is the end of disc one” parts… silly) and it’s about a woman that doesn’t want kids. She talks about how all her past relationships had usually ended when it came to this difference of opinion in past partners. She had given up hope and then she met her husband and everything aligned… they loved each other, lives worked well together, all that good stuff, AND he didn’t want children either.
Some years into their marriage they’ve been a united front about the kids thing. Any time they’re given a hard time about not having kids, they both argue their reasons and that’s it. Then one day the husband changes his mind. He decides that he wants children. The protagonist remains steadfast in her decision of not wanting kids. I’m only 14% into the book and it’s only been like a chapter of it, but I’m getting really annoyed for the character at the husband’s efforts in trying to “change her mind”. He argues all these “positives” and just kind of glosses over any of her arguments against procreating. He says that he’ll do everything and get up with the baby at night… sure, how long would that last? He argues about pregnancy that “it’s only 9 months”… yeah, 9 months of being held hostage by a parasite that can literally destroy her body and kill her in any number of ways. No one should be forced or coerced into parenthood.
I’m not sure how this story is going to unfold. She just left the husband in the middle of the night and ran to her best friend. If the husband wants a child that badly, he needs to get divorced and go find someone that also wants a child… not attempt to bully his wife that has been steadfast in her lack of desire for children since before they met.
Spoilers ahead…
Ok, it’s a couple days since I wrote the above and I’ve finished a book. It was a STRUGGLE y’all. The protagonist did go through with divorcing her husband, so most of the book was just about her getting through her post-divorce stuff and missing him. Though by the end she decided that although she still really didn’t want children, she missed and loved him enough to have one just to get him back. It book finishes a little open ended… they’re back together, but not definitely having a kid. The husband missed her enough too to be willing to not have a kid if they can be together… which seems like a better choice. I wouldn’t want to be this couple’s future child… to have been unwanted by one of your parents. Inevitably the kid will find out that their mother didn’t really want children. That’s going to be a lot of future therapy and mental problems.
I don’t think I’m going to read any more of this author’s books. I vaguely recall the other two I’ve read having awful, annoying characters. Sorry Emily, I’m out.
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williamofwestworld · 2 years
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William’s Darkness. Spoilers ahead. Do not reblog. I feel the need to talk about this topic today because I feel like it is something that is completely misunderstood by many people, even by myself, since last the season. This darkness that he is referring to is not evilness, but emptiness, the absence of anything, essentially a void. A black hole. Whatever you would like to call it, it’s not evil per say, it is the absence of anything meaningful. 
William, since the beginning, and I am referring to younger William here, has felt like he doesn’t belong to this world. He has been looking for a place to belong because the world that Westworld has created is devoid of any meaning. Programs, such as Rehoboam, has decided many many many things for people until their very existence has felt fake. So he started reading books to find meaning in them. Stories about heroes and villains and knights. He read up on Philosophy to a point where he could quote philosophers to find meaning to his own life and he never found that.
Dolores gave him meaning, though, and that woke him up to a bigger reality... actually realizing how fake everything was and how unhappy he truly was just going through the motions of every day life.
This is depression. All of it. William is severely depressed because everything seems and feels so artificial.
William found meaning in Dolores. He found what he was truly capable of because of her. He had been stepped on by people his entire life and suddenly he was capable of fighting back and getting the things that he wanted and he liked that he finally had some control over his own life and how it could turn out... Dolores was like a mirror for him because he realized that was a part of himself that had been there all along and she made him realize that.
Having her die and not remember him did break him in many many many ways. Suddenly there was this void of meaning inside of himself again. There was no more light there. It was dark again. He had been given light and then it was taken away again.
Now, after all of this, this void could have been filled with some meaning that he had been looking for. He kept going back to Dolores in hope that she may come back to him, but she never did... and he gave up. He went back to what he would consider a meaningless life. Going through the motions again and again, all the while looking at humanity and seeing how terrible they treated each other. How selfish, terrible, and fake everything seemed to be.
Depression can make things seem worse than they really are and that can breed anger and hatred, which William let out in the park. So, while the darkness, the void, the depression isn’t inherently bad, he truly did become a black hole that sucked in everything, even light, all around him and Emily and Juliet suffered because of it. Did he purposely do it? No. He tried to keep it from them, thinking that his darkness was inherently evil and only let it out in the park... but that’s the thing... someone’s mood can spread to those around them, even if it is unintentional. 
We all know that William has an extremely dark view of the world from season 3 during his little therapy session where he compared humanity to bacteria. The host version of himself even admitted to trying to find meaning in the hosts before killing Bernard. Westworld felt like those stories that he had been reading about since he was a kid and so he felt like he could finally live in one of those stories that had meaning, rather than the meaningless existence that the world the show creators had made where every decision was made for you. Westworld let you be free from that for a while and he really quite enjoyed that to a point where he felt like he belonged to one of those stories and wanted to stay there.
Isn’t it weird though, how a supposedly fake world that Ford created was more free and real than the real world? William sort of lived in this delusion until he killed Emily, which woke him up to the fact that not everything going on around him was just a game. The stakes were real now, just as he had always wanted and when he finally got that, he realized he didn’t want it anymore. It wasn’t what he had hoped that it would be.
He realized that both systems, the Hosts and the humans were broken (because they were mirrors, reflections of the people who built them) and there was no hope in saving any of it by the end of season 4, so he was basically like, in his own William fashion, “fuck it, let’s start over.” The human world is fake, evil, broken, and devoid of any meaning and the hosts were just as broken as the people who created them (in William’s eyes), so he decided to pull the plug on all of it. The darkness, while it didn’t start out as evil, it became evil because that’s how the chips fell, because of everything with Dolores, and everything after.
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I posted 8,387 times in 2022
36 posts created (0%)
8,351 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@lovebittenbyevans
@07-05-1994
@soufcakmistress
@wandahadavision
@breanime
I tagged 192 of my posts in 2022
#bridgerton - 36 posts
#mayans mc - 19 posts
#ez reyes - 14 posts
#angel reyes - 13 posts
#bridgertonedit - 13 posts
#anthony bridgerton - 12 posts
#kate sharma - 10 posts
#bridgerton spoilers - 10 posts
#looks - 9 posts
#will smith - 9 posts
Longest Tag: 93 characters
#wow i’ve always been fascinated by houses with greenery but i’ve never seen the seasons shift
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Mayans Spoilers
Episode 8
Chile EZ no longer in the building…like that man is completely gone! Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by it? 🙃
Louisa does not need to be anybodys mom…not rn at least…she needs to do some major healing. But Angel is such a cute daddy omg 🥺 I wonder why he hasn’t said anything to Felipe or EZ about the baby.
Angel semi trying to be there for EZ is adorable. He’s not that good at it probably because he always felt he never had a support system
They just ok Nails girl bye lmaoo
I’m sick of Emily like why? Just why?
Felipe is just heartbroken all the way around and it’s breaking my heart
Miguel can’t catch a break lmao
Taza giving Bish the same attitude now and I am all the way here for it.
Jess girl should’ve just minded her damn business because now look at her ass smh
24 notes - Posted May 31, 2022
#4
It still think it’s hilarious that JD plays the younger brother and he’s older than Clayton lmaoo
26 notes - Posted April 6, 2022
#3
Mayans spoilers
This shit is out of control chile!
I was so conflicted when EZ and Manny (idk his characters name yet) were fighting 😭
Gilly is forever about that action lmaoo
Angel and Nails? No just fuckin no. She is not built for this life. Her trying to stop him from going after his brother pissed me off so bad…even though I know it’ll hurt Angel I really hope the baby ain’t his because I can’t take much of her and all her crying. Like idk why they’re forcing this…mans literally dreads having to go home and then deleting his other baby’s pic? Ion like that. At least he isn’t sleeping in jeans anymore though.
I thought we were going to get two whole episodes without Emily but…
Bish has officially lost it…idk mans needs a hug and therapy
While I’m happy Manny has a neck tattoo (they knew) that shit is so ugly lmao like wth?!
They did not have to make me think they killed Angel..I was about to turn the whole show off and never watch again
EZ with that fake ass beard had me crying lmaoo but I’m happy we get to see more of his time in prison
The time jump was weird though..like why?
Letty needs to relax like foreal
EZ also needs a whoopin for many things but do not ignore my father in law like that sir! Also that big ass dog in that little ass trailer?
Taza just seemed out of it man…he’s battling his demons like shit
I’m guessing we’re going to get a lot of flash backs? Because they didn’t explain some shit within those 4 months. I mean was coco punished or anything? Or they just said fuck it. I’m so happy he’s clean again thought but he needs to let Hope go.
This man from jail is gonna set EZ on a rampage I feel like…
I’m excited for this season though
27 notes - Posted April 19, 2022
#2
Mayans Spoilers
Episode 6
Manny is back!!!! Been waiting on boo and he’s ready to tear some shit up!
So like I know Angel is the bad boy, fuck boy and everything else but them making him sleep with Letty? I feel like he really never would’ve done that. That’s so fucked and messy and her ass better not be pregnant! He shouldn’t have been the one to go anyways
Gilly was really the only one visibly upset about Coco and I don’t appreciate that at all
I hope something actually happens with EZ and that girl. Especially since Emily is on his line again. Can she just go to jail or something?
Miguel coming out of hiding? 👀 I wonder who he called. Where is Nester? 👀
Once they showed Luisa finding her baby I knew they were going to make Nails lose hers. Which is fucked up. But she can go ahead and take that ring off because we all know…
I don’t like that they made Angel lose another child though and papa Reyes was excited about having a grandchild.
Also what is papa Reyes doing? Is he moving like what’s going on? Did I miss something?
I guess we’re going to war 🙃
29 notes - Posted May 17, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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My chest 😩😭
216 notes - Posted April 5, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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itsmesb · 2 years
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Here’s a couple of things I head canon for Octogoblin that I reference in my writing, but never really go into detail
1. Otto could never keep anything from his wife, and she knew he pined after Norman ever since their college days. She encouraged him to make a move, understanding he didn’t love her any less by also being with a man. However, Otto was much to afraid to risk a friendship/ his position at Oscorp. Besides going after the biggest businessman in New York during the 1990s was much too taboo for the times.
2. After returning to their universe, Norman desperately needs therapy. However, he refuses to go for the first year because he’d be recognized. Not for green goblin, just for being the deceased owner or Oscorp. Eventually he finds an online service that helps him somewhat.
3. Norman has been recently diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. (I don’t like to just outright say it, because I am not heavily educated on the topic, but from what I have learned, I believe it fits his actions, even before Goblin)
4. Before their fall out, pre nwh, Otto and Norman used to spend late nights in the labs eating Chinese food. It became their thing.
5. Otto doesn’t really cry when he’s sad. However, he’s the one you’ll find bawling at a wedding.
6. Norman, who used to never have any emotions ever, now cries at everything, and he gets very frustrated with himself for it.
7. Otto spends the first year back helping spider-man with crime, however when Peter and Mj have their kid, Otto takes on the full responsibility of defending the city. For all of a few weeks, before he realizes he’s too old for this and can’t seem to keep up. Peter takes over not long after.
8. (I’ll probably write a fic about this soon) Otto and Norman visit Rosie’s, Harry’s and Emily’s grave on the one year anniversary of Otto and Norman’s return back to their universe. It’s easier that way, since neither of them were able to attend the funerals of Rosie or Harry. They now do this every year.
9. Flo, Moe, Harry, and Larry were a bit unsure of Norman at first. But now Otto thinks they like Norman more then they like Otto. They’re constantly showing off when he lets them, and Norman always praises them.
10. And lastly, Otto’s actuators are sensitive to touch, and does get sensations when they are hurt and/or other things
I will probably do a part 2 if I think of more,,
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scuttling · 3 years
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Long Time Coming
Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.
The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.
“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.
You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.
The new suit further complicates things.
“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.
God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.
“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…
JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.
“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”
For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.
“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.
You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.
“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.
It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.
You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.
God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.
Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.
“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”
You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.
“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.
“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.
The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.
“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.
“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.
Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.
“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”
“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”
There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.
“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”
“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.
You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.
JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.
He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.
Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.
He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.
He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.
There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.
When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.
While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.
The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.
“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.
He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.
It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.
“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.
“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.
“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.
You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.
He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.
“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.
“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”
“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.
“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.
You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.
“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”
“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”
“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”
“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”
“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.
“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”
“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.
“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”
The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.
It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.
“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.
You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.
By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.
The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.
The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.
“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”
“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.
“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.
“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.
“Let me help you.”
“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.
“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.
“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.
“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.
He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.
“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”
“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.
“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”
You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.
“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”
“Do you really mean that?”
You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.
Oh fucking fuck.
“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.
“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.
He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.
“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.
“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.
“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.
“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”
You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.
“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”
He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.
“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.
“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.
You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.
Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.
“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”
“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.
You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.
For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.
“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”
You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.
“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”
“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.
“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.
“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.
You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.
“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.
“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.
“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”
“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”
“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”
“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”
He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.
He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.
You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.
“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.
“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.
“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.
Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.
Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!
JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.
Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!
Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.
You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.
Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.
Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner
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pennylanefics · 3 years
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Our Daughter - Paul Lahote
a/n: my first paul fic!! i have another one that’s in progress and almost done :)
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Emily had taken you out for a shopping day, no boys, no pack drama, just you two hanging out. The problem was, you were currently six months pregnant, so walking around for a full day took a lot out of you.
Everything with the pack has been stressful recently, and your pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy, so she thought you just needed a day to yourselves for some retail therapy. You did end up buying lots of clothes and things for your baby, which you happened to find out the sex of it at your doctor’s appointment that morning.
Finally, as it was rolling around four in the afternoon, you made it back to Paul’s house, that you moved into with him as soon as you found out you were pregnant. Being his imprintee and all, he wanted to protect the two of you more than anything, so living with him was the best way to do so.
“Ugh, I am so tired,” you groan to yourself, setting all of the bags down in your room next to the bed. Emily also offered to come over and cook dinner for you, since Paul and Sam were on patrol until five.
Soon, Emily walks into your house and sets out all of the ingredients.
“Do you need help with anything?” You ask her. Sensing your discomfort, she forces you to sit on the couch.
“Oh no, no. I kept you out all day, you need to rest.” You hug her thankfully and head to your room to lay in bed until dinner is ready.
Paul and Sam show up an hour later at Paul’s house, Sam greeting Emily with a multitude of kisses. Upon hearing Paul’s voice, you get up slowly, your feet still hurting and the swelling in your ankles increasing with every step.
“Hi babe,” you greet him with a smile. He smiles widely to greet you, but immediately, he can sense your pain.
“What’s wrong? What hurts? Did someone get you? What’s going on, darling?” He blurts out, his hands feeling around your body to find the area that was bothering you.
“Paul, I’m fine. My feet are just killing me because we’ve been walking around all day and I’m six months pregnant. Not exactly a good combo,” you chuckle. Paul obviously doesn’t take this lightly and brings you back to his room.
“Well, lay back down and I’ll get you some ice to help with the swelling, and I’ll also rub your feet, or your back, whatever you want. And we can have dinner in here. I want you to rest,” he babbles. You can’t help but giggle and grab his hands, keeping him calm in the moment.
“Babe, please calm down for just a second. I’m fine. I would still have swollen ankles if I wasn’t out walking all day. Plus my doctor says exercise is good.”
“Yeah, exercise isn’t walking around a shopping mall for five hours!”
“I didn’t just buy stuff for me, I bought stuff for our little girl!” You spoil. Your eyes go wide and your jaw drops. You were going to plan this whole thing for him to tell him the sex of your baby, but you ruined it all.
“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that yet, I-”
“We’re having a girl?” He wonders, the hurt and concern gone as the news is revealed.
“Yeah,” you laugh excitedly, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. He is still so in shock that when you pull away, his jaw drops.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” he whispers against your lips, his forehead still on yours. “We’re having a girl.”
“I know.” You can’t help but begin to tear up at his reaction. You loved him so much and the imprinting made it so much stronger. Everything you felt for him was much more intensified. Seeing him so happy made your heart soar.
“You wanna see what I bought her?” You wonder. Paul nods enthusiastically and takes a seat on the bed while you grab the bag from the baby store.
You spend the next twenty minutes showing him all the baby clothes you got, going over what exactly made you want to get it and if it reminded you of anything. Paul let you talk and stayed quiet, a content look on his face as he listened.
You also showed him everything that you got for yourself, and Paul still didn’t mind one bit; he could listen to you talk for forever.
“Why don’t you lay back for now, alright?” He tells you, gently pushing you to lay down once you put all of the things you bought away.
“Baby, I said I’m okay.”
“I know you did, but I can tell you’re still in pain. And you deserve rest, you’re carrying our daughter,” a fond smile makes its way onto his face, his hand rubbing over your bump.
You sigh and give in, laying up against the pillows and kicking your legs out. Paul stays put beside you, his hand falling to your stomach.
“Hey, dinner’s ready,” Emily says from the other side of the door with a quiet knock. You start to get up, but Paul pushes you to remain laying down.
“I’ll get you a plate, just, please rest,” he begs. You grin and nod, eyes falling closed. When Paul finally leaves, you turn the TV on and relax for the first time in hours. Moments later, Paul returns with a plate in his hand and a glass of water. He sets the plate down on your lap and puts the glass on your bedside table.
He leaves once more to grab his own food, then finally settles into bed next to you.
“You know, you can go out there and eat with Sam and Emily,” you tell Paul. He shakes his head and kisses your temple after swallowing the bite of food in his mouth.
“I haven’t seen you all day, and I could use a break from Sam,” he groans. You giggle and smack his leg.
“Did you tell them the news yet?” He glances at you, confused.
“The news that you’re pregnant? I mean, if they don’t know by now, that’s on them,” he says. You smack his leg again.
“I meant that we’re having a girl.”
“Oh, no. But didn’t you tell Emily already? And I’m guessing Sam picked through my thoughts and found out, so why should we tell them again?”
“I didn’t tell Emily because I wanted you to be the first person to know, and because they deserve to know from us personally instead of Sam listening in on your thoughts.” Paul’s expression softens when you tell him the first part.
“Fine. But let’s wait a little longer. I wanna relish being the only one who knows.”
You two continue eating and when you finish, Paul helps you out of bed, being sure to keep an arm wrapped around you the entire time you walk to the kitchen.
“Babe, I’m fine, you can let me go,” you chuckle, pushing away from him to set your dishes in the sink.
“There’s some news we wanted to share,” Paul smiles at the two guests.
“Let me guess, (Y/N)’s pregnant,” Sam jokes. You giggle and rejoin your boyfriend’s side.
“Well, she’s pregnant with our daughter,” he says, smiling down at you before sharing a kiss.
Emily and Sam immediately congratulate the both of you with hugs and belly rubs.
After things calm down, Emily starts cleaning the dishes for you while Sam and Paul talk over some things and before you know it, you and Paul are left alone for the night.
“I need to take a shower,” you groan, standing up from the couch.
“Hey, hey. I’ll run you a bath instead,” he offers. You smile up at him.
“That sounds great. Would you join me then?” Paul smirks, many thoughts running through his head, but he knows you mean it in an innocent way.
“Of course, baby.”
After the tub was filled, the bubbles were added, bath salts were dissolved, soft music was playing from Paul’s phone, and candles were lit. He helped you get undressed and carefully step into the tub.
He got in moments later, laying behind you so you could lay against his chest. Instinctively, his hands cradled your belly, his head falling to your shoulder.
“I’m so excited for her to get here,” he whispers in your ear, placing soft kisses along the shell of it before moving onto your neck.
“She’s definitely going to be spoiled. I know you’re going to be an amazing father.”
“And you’re going to be such a great mother.”
The rest of the bath was very relaxing, Paul keeping his hands on your stomach, singing along softly in your ear, and giving your shoulder and neck kisses whenever he felt like it.
Once you both were dried off and ready for bed, you slip in a t-shirt of Paul’s, as it was much more comfy and roomy to sleep in. Paul admires you as you do so, waiting for you to lay next to him.
When you finally settle against his body, he wraps you in a hug, kissing all over your face.
“I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbles between each kiss. A loud giggle escapes your lips as his lips tickle your skin.
“Okay, okay! If you don’t stop, I am going to wet myself.” Upon hearing this, Paul stops right away and holds his hands up in defense.
“Alright. I don’t want that happening.”
“Blame our daughter, she’s pressing into my bladder constantly,” you chuckle.
Finally, Paul relaxes, lifting your shirt up to bare your bump, his warm hands running all over it. It’s a calming gesture, the mixture of his soft touch and his werewolf-heat allowing you to feel somewhat content.
“I want to name her Harlow,” Paul whispers, keeping his eyes on where your daughter was kicking at his hand.
He’s been thinking about names a lot recently, for both a boy and a girl. It was starting to annoy the pack that he was on patrol with. When nothing was going on, he would just run over names in his mind, trying to figure out what would fit best with both of your last names.
“Harlow,” you repeat the name. “Harlow Lahote.” Paul gazes up at you in shock. You two hadn’t talked about whether you would take his last name or not. Though you were his imprint, you weren’t married, and haven’t really been dating for too long, only a year so far.
“You want her to take my last name?” He confirms with a smile slowly tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Well yeah. I’m your imprint so obviously we’re going to be together for a long time. Doesn’t matter if we’re not married now, we’re going to get married in the future. I love you and I want her to have your...our last name.”
“Our last name, huh?” He smirks. “Are you saying you’ll marry me?”
“That’s me giving you the opportunity to propose,” you raise your eyebrows.
“Will you marry me?” He understands exactly what you want. “I don’t even have a ring though, so let me…” he stands to find something, but before he can successfully get anything that would work, you reach over to the tiny bag on your nightstand and produce a small box.
While shopping today, you and Emily got to talking about getting married. She gave you the idea of buying a band for Paul and proposing to him. At first, you were kind of on the fence about it, but after some thought, you didn’t see any harm in doing so.
“Babe?” You interrupt his searching. The sound of your voice makes him whip around back to you, his eyes widening when he sees the box open, with a simple black band inside.
“Will you marry me, Paul Lahote?” You ask with a teasing smile. For a moment, he’s upset that you’re actually proposing to him, but he soon gets over it and sits back down.
“Yes I will, my love,” he says with a huge grin. He kisses you sweetly, grabbing the back of your neck to keep you close.
“Can’t believe you beat me,” he feigns sadness, but soon breaks it with a laugh, pushing you to lay down so he can hover over you.
“Blame Emily. She’s the one who suggested it.” Paul shakes his head and kisses you once more.
“I think I’m missing an important part,” you interrupt. He raises his eyebrows at you, and you remove the ring from the box, patting his chest so he will sit up and off of you.
You take his left hand and slide the ring onto his finger, finding that it’s a perfect fit.
“Shit. I never thought I’d be the one proposed to, but damn, I get how women feel now,” he tells you, chuckling and turning the ring around his finger, examining how it looks.
“We’re not exactly a traditional couple, seeing as you are a wolf shapeshifter, so why not break more traditions?” You joke.
“I liked it. Sweet, to the point, and, we are by ourselves.”
“By ourselves and one unborn,” you add. Paul laughs and moves down your body so that he’s face to face with your stomach.
“Our beautiful baby girl. We can’t wait for you to get here,” he says to your bump. “Harlow Lily Lahote.”
“Harlow Lily Lahote,” you say the full name to yourself. Paul had just randomly chosen Lily just now, feeling like it went well together. His lips pepper kisses all over your bump, being ever so tender and loving.
“My girls. I can’t wait until our family is complete.”
552 notes · View notes
boldlyvoid · 3 years
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Hypothetically | Chapter 1-5
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summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.
friends to lovers, case of the week style story
A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.
Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy
Word Count: 15k
chapter 1
It took Y/N longer than she had hoped to finally catch up to him. He seemed to go from the cute little boy with a bow tie who sat beside her in her kindergarten class to working for the FBI by the time she graduated high school. It wasn’t fair that he happened to be smarter than anyone on earth, causing him to test out of elementary school before she even got to know him.
Spencer Reid had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the sweetest personality to match. Y/N saw him around as he grew up, coming home to see his mom often and minding his business as he wandered around in his free time.
He liked to sit on the swings at the abandoned park across the street from her house, it was a place he would go to at the most random hours of the day for years on end. Every time he was in the area, he visited the swing. And She’d watch him from her window seat in her bedroom. Pretending to read, but really she was watching him read.
It was years of watching, from the ages of 13 to 18 when he was coming back and forth from working on his second Ph.D., and she was still trying to make it through high school.
But she never walked out there and talked to him, she knew nothing real about him other than his name and that he was smart. The town told rumours about him being an alien or a government experiment because there was no way a kid could be so smart, but she never believed them. She liked to keep to the idea that he was sweet, smart, and special.
He stopped coming to the swing for a while after they turned 18, her mother had said something about Spencer Reid’s mother being admitted to the nursing home she worked at and y/n drew the conclusion that he’d finally left the small Nevada town she was seemingly trapped in.
Y/N kept tabs with him online, as weird as it felt to her she had a strange sense of pride when it came to Spencer’s achievements. That was the kid she sat beside in kindergarten out there working for the FBI, saving lives and changing the world. It inspired her.
So sure enough, when she moved to Virginia to join the FBI academy it was the perfect opportunity to finally be on an even playing field with him. An excuse to reach out to him and catch up, get to know him. She was technically older than him, by 10 months, and yet somehow he seemed to feel unreachable, wiser and more of an adult than she ever would be.
At 28 she finally bumps into him again. She’s carrying boxes into her new apartment with help from a moving company when he leaves the apartment across the hall from her.
“Oh my gosh, Spencer Reid?” she said with the biggest smile spreading across her face.
“Hi?” he says, not having any clue who she is.
“You might not remember me, I’m Y/N Y/L/N we were in kindergarten together in Nevada?”
He takes a moment to think, she watches his eyes flutter as he recalls the memory to his mind. She is mesmerized by how his brain works, like a filing cabinet he can just pull memories out. “Oh, yes we sat together the first day and you got in trouble later that afternoon for adding water to the sand because I had said it was too dry to build a model of the Pyramid of Giza.”
Her smile gets even bigger, “yes! I hope this isn’t weird but I’ve kept up with you over the years, I’ve always thought it was so amazing that someone from my town was off doing incredible things! I can’t believe I’m moving in across from you that makes it look so much worse oh god, I promise I’m not stalking you!” She rambled anxiously.
He laughed, “it’s okay I believe you! I’m surprised honestly that you remember me, we were what? 5? That’s a good memory you must have?”
She walked over to him and out of the way of the men moving her boxes into her apartment, that’s what she was paying them for anyway. She set the box down on the floor beside herself to free her arms, “I think your first ever friend would leave an impact on your memory.”
“We did have a good bond before I was transferred out,” he recalls with a smile.
“Well,” she smiled right back, “I also work with the FBI if you want to get coffee before work on Monday and catch up? See if there’s a possibility of being friends once again?”
“Yeah!” he answers abruptly, “I leave around 7:15 normally and I always go to the little cafe down the road, what department are you in?”
“VICAP,” she said, “just a floor above the BAU, surprised I’m only running into you now”
“You sure you’re not stalking me?” he joked.
She shook her head lightly, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. “Promise, just inspired by you, that’s all.”
He chuckled to himself, almost shocked that such a lovely person would be inspired by him. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you get back to moving in and I will see you on Monday Y/N.” he said with a small wave and walked down the corridor.
She sighed to herself, this was going to be amazing.
---
Y/N had barely unpacked anything by the time Monday had rolled around. She spent most of her time working on her bedroom organization, leaving a mess of boxes everywhere else. Going through her closet to find the best outfit for her first-morning commute with Spencer.
Her job didn’t require as much fieldwork as he did, so she could wear anything she wanted to the office as long as it was professional. She settled on black flared dress pants, a nice white turtleneck, the watch her family gave her when she graduated from the academy and her cute healed wedge boots.
She grabbed her purse and wallet, ensuring she had her keys and badge in there before unlocking her safe and clipping her gun to her belt. She grabbed her go bag and coat and draped them over one arm, holding her purse in the other.
With everything she needed, she walked to her front door, turning off her alarm just to change the setting to protect her empty apartment. She closed and locked the door behind herself just as Spencer walked out into the hallway.
“Good morning Spencer,” she said, cheerful as ever.
“You’re awfully cheerful for this time of day,” he yawned after speaking.
“Late night?” she asked, joining him as he walked towards the building entrance.
“We had an emergency case this weekend that kicked my ass, I’ve only been home for 15 hours. Hopefully, today is just a desk day,” he yawned again. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired as well, from moving this weekend.”
“Oh I’m exhausted, normally I don’t leave till quarter to 8, living farther away now is going to suck a bit.”
“At least our building is nice,” he adds.
“It seems wonderful so far.” He held the door for her as they walked into the parking lot, he dug her keys from her bag, “do you want to take my car?”
“Sure, seeing as I don’t have a car, I normally take the subway,” he said softly, walking to the passenger side and opening the door as he heard the door unlock.
“Well if you want a ride every morning I don’t mind, even If you need rides to emergency cases,” she smiled softly.
Spencer insisted on buying her coffee, saying it was only fair for driving him. But really it was because he wanted to spoil her, ever since she said she was inspired by him his mind hasn’t been able to stop playing that sentence on loop. He’s completely enamoured by her, willing to do whatever it takes to get on her good graces. Not realizing she’s willing to do the same for him.
In no time she’s pulling up to the main building, both of them showing their badges before being allowed access into the parking structure of their building. Y/N parked close to the main elevator, having impeccable luck with getting that spot in the garage.
“We still have time before we’re officially on the clock, if you wanted to come meet my team?” He offered, hitting the button in the elevator for floor 3. His floor.
“I’d love to meet the legend that is Penelope Garcia,” she smiled.
“She is wonderful,” he agreed with a smile.
The elevator dinged and she felt her heart drop into her stomach thinking of how Spencer was going to introduce her. He walked with her towards the glass doors, holding them open for her as she walked into the bullpen.
All eyes were suddenly on Spencer and Y/N, so many faces she’s never seen before, and 2 she knows too well from her research on the BAU. She smiled lightly as she walked towards them all. Spencer not far behind her.
“Good morning,” Spencer smiled a small pressed-lipped smile. “This is agent Y/N Y/L/N, she works up in VICAP, she was one of my best friends in elementary school.”
She smiled, so that’s how. “Hello!” She waved, “It’s so nice to meet you all,”
“Derek Morgan,” the tall dark and handsome one reached his hand out for yours.
“Oh, I don’t shake hands sorry,” she said, grabbing her right middle finger with her left hand and smiling lightly.
He laughed, “wow pretty boy, how come you never told us you have a twin?”
“Do you not shake hands either?” She asked him, “we really do have a lot of catching up to do Spence.”
“Emily Prentiss, it’s lovely to see Spence bring in new friends.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve always admired the BAU, I’ve actually compiled a few of the cases you’ve worked on this year, I’m pretty good at finding patterns even the system overlooks.”
“Oh yes, Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve seen your name on all the emails, thank you you’ve sent some of the best-connected cases to us, you’ve brought justice to people who we would have never connected to cases,” JJ said enthusiastically, “I was actually just about to tell Hotch about the newest one you sent me.”
“It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’ve been carefully looking over this case for 2 years now I knew you’d all be able to help with it. It’s right up your ally,” she nervously laughed.
“You sent in the files on the family annihilator that was going after people he believed to be decedents of Cain from the bible right?” David Rossi asked.
She nodded her head and sighed, “yeah everyone told me it was a stretch to catch onto but when I noticed all the men were from the same online ancestry family tree I knew you guys needed to see it.”
“That was specifically interesting, the death of his own brother led him to seek revenge on the father of murder,” Spencer agreed.
“So what’s this new one you’ve brought us?” Derek asked.
“Oh, would you like to pitch it to us? We’re all here we can meet you in the briefing room before your shift starts upstairs?” JJ offered.
“Oh sure,” she smiled, finally it was her time to show off.
Soon enough, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia and Jenifer Jareau were all staring at you in the briefing room.
“In Wichita Kansas, there have been a string of murders over the last 6 years that have all been incredibly, creepily similar,” she started explaining as she handed out the case files to everyone.
“Each victim is female, 16 to 24, they’ve all been strangled with rope while completely naked, signs of brutal sexual assault, binding and torture. They’ve all been found wrapped in shower curtains and placed in various public locations. Clearly a sign of remorse with how he keeps them covered but still a taunt that we can’t find him even now that he’s 6 victims deep.”
“Clarise Richardson, victim number 1 was raped, strangled with rope and left by an underpass. She was found in 1998, the M.E said she was dead 16 hours when they found her, COD was asphyxiation. Her family reports she was last seen at least 73 hours before she was found. So he kept her for a while. There were fibres under her nails of green carpet, either she was held at someone's house or in a van with carpet like they had in the 70s and 80s.”
“Were there any fingerprints or DNA on the bodies?” Prentiss asked.
“Yes, there was a sperm sample retrieved on victim number 5, Sharon Flynn. Most likely he wore a condom for the rest of his rapes and he wasn’t in the system already. Either he never ejaculated in earlier rapes before he grew to murder or his victims never came forward before 1998.”
“which is highly likely, we saw in the EARs case in California how hard it was to get the men and women who were raped to even come forward. There were 4 confirmed cases in the news before more came forward with similar stories. It’s seen as a shameful thing when in reality it’s just giving them more power if they believe they’ll never be caught.” Spencer explained.
“Yes, it’s very hard to come forward when it happens to you,” she agreed before quickly hanging subject. “I’ve been searching for any rapes in the area with similar MO, choking, BDSM, ropes, vans with green carpet, and I’ve found 3 women who claimed to be raped by a man at festivals the late 70’s who had an orange van with green carpet who bonded them up in a very intricate form of bondage that tightened every time they squirmed to entice them not to move. And from my research, that's the same pattern of rope as the rope burn on the 6 bodies we have.”
“All 6 of them are fairly similar it’s just their dumpsites that sets them apart. He didn’t have one strict area that he stuck to, he seems to have no problem travelling to them.” Emily said, flipping through the files.
“I’m thinking he has a job the requires him to still use his van. Like a travelling plumber, a phone or computer tech, home surveillance or maybe even he’s with Jehovah's witness or the Mormon church. It would explain him being able to get into these women’s houses and neighbourhoods long enough to pick someone, learn their schedule and grab them.” Y/N explained.
“Garcia, can you look into those businesses, as well as independent contractors, satellite companies, mailmen, and anyone else who might have been on the job by the victim's houses on the dates and times they were last seen,” Hotch asked.
“Absolutely, I’ll also run the DNA samples in my other databases.”
“I was about to ask you to do that, I think he might have children. There is a very large gap between the rapes and the jump to rape and murder, if you could run the saliva sample from victim 3 that's on her neck with any foster system or genealogy company to see if he has a son or uncle we can trace his sample to?”
“That's a great idea, I’ve never thought to do that,” Garcia smiled. “I like you, you’re a smart cookie!”
“Looks like we’re headed to Wichita,” Hotch said. “Do you think VICAP would be mad if we stole you for a few days? You have more connections with the Wichita police than we do, they might cooperate more If they know a friendly face.”
“Absolutely, let me grab my go-bag from upstairs!” Y/N jumped up, “I’ll be right back down!”
“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, And with that, she was out the door.
“Reid if you don’t marry her I will,” Penelope said softly.
“Okay.” He blushed.
She took a seat beside Reid on the jet, the two of them chatting amongst themselves for a while before they were called for the second briefing.
“So local PD think they have a recent victim from this weekend they want us to check out,” Penelope said over video chat. “she’s a little different than the others. Katie Newton, 27 was found bound to her bed, already having passed and was being assaulted when her husband came home. He screamed at the guy who was only wearing a ski mask and “tight-y white-y’s” as the husband described. He grabbed his bag and clothes with him but he left her tied up with the little time he had to knock the husband out of the way and run out.”
“Did he get any other identification marks on the unsub?” Y/N asked.
“He said he was pasty white, 5’8 and he didn’t talk. He didn’t scream, nothing, he just grabbed his things and ran. He does however remember he had a very large brown birthmark on his chest covering the right nipple down to his stomach.”
“Okay that’s good to know, why do they think it’s our guy?” Rossi asked.
“Blood found on the rope she was tied up with can match back to 13 different women. 6 of the murders that Y/N brought to us, 1 of the rapes she found and 5 other break-in and rapes of other women in the area.”
“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered to herself.
“Well done on finding this one Y/N, this one is going to be big.” Morgan complimented her with a smile.
“Thanks,” she smiled back, “I didn’t expect any of this when I connected the 6 of them originally. This is insane.”
“have you ever been in fieldwork like this?” Hotch asked.
“At the academy, I was combat trained, I have all my clearances and I’m a great shot. I’m good on my feet and I tested perfectly on hostage talk down.” She tried not to brag but this was almost as important as a job interview.
“Well damn,” Morgan nodded in approval. “We might just have to seal you full time.”
“I wouldn’t mind that at all!”
“Good,” hotch smiled, something he didn’t do often. “I’m going to send you and Reid to the M.E to see what else we can find out about these new break-in homicides. Prentiss and Rossi, I want you to travel to the last dumpsite and the latest crime scene to see what else could connect them. Morgan and JJ come with me to the station to set up communication with the local PD and media we don’t need them naming him like they did with BTK.”
“Garcia, would you also widen the search for anyone convicted of sexual misconduct, flashing, stalking, break-ins where underwear was stolen or and peeping toms? Go all the way back to the 70s. If any of them are now working for any businesses that have vans and require him to travel. This guy has to have a mistake somewhere that you will find.” Y/N asked one last time.
“Got it, genius girl, over and out.”
—-
The bureau had the funds for rooms for the main team, meaning Y/N had to double up with someone and she had to decide who once they landed and headed to the hotel.
“It wouldn’t be weird if we got a room with two queen beds right?” She asked Spencer, “it would give us a chance to catch up in our downtime like a sleepover we never had as kids.” She nervously rambled in the SUV as Reid drove.
“No I don’t mind, It would be fun if we get any sleep in this case. This one seems like it will be a bit of a brain rattler.” Reid agreed with a soft pressed-lipped smile.
They booked their rooms, dropped off their things and all headed their separate ways. The M.E’s office was close to the police station, the two of you in an SUV followed Hotch, JJ and Morgan in another down the road.
The bodies had all been cremated or buried shortly after being found, there wasn’t anything fresh enough to examine for them but they did have access to all the information on all the cases.
“I’ve been the medical examiner here for the last 30 years,” the nice old man said as he led them down the hall to the storage room. “These ones have all been some of the worst cases I’ve seen here. So much so that I keep them all in their own boxes just in case a day like today ever happens.”
“That is very helpful for us thank you so much!” She smiled at him as he held the storage door open.
“They’re all labelled by name and date. If you have any questions about tests or need me to run more with what we have left just give me a holler!” He said as he left the room.
Y/N sighed. “Why do I feel like this is going to take a million years?”
“I can read 20,000 words a minute, it will take me 3 hours to read everything in this room. Luckily we only need to read these few boxes.” Spencer pointed at the wall.
“Okay boy wonder, stop showing off,” she smiled, taking the Victim # 5 case box down first. “She was the first one I put into the system when I joined VICAP.”
“Is that why you sent this case to JJ?”
“Partly,” she sighed again. “There was the emotional attachment of this being my first case but there were just too many connections I knew you guys could bring justice to her family. She was so young.”
Spencer opened a box and she watched as his eyes darted across the pages as he flipped through them. She was mesmerized by how he could do that. But he was probably even smarter than god so it made sense.
“This is interesting. They found LSD in the system of the 3 rapes from back in the day which isn’t that uncommon for the time period or the places where they were abducted, but what’s strange is the amount. This is enough LSD to make someone go insane, no one in their right mind would willingly take this much LSD?” Spencer said.
“They were all found 2 days later dehydrated and alone in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way of knowing if more women didn’t have this happen and died where he left them.”
“He is probably in his 50’s now. How fit would he have to be to still be able to break into houses and rape and murder women?” Spencer asked.
“Well that might be just why he stopped dumping, he might have a bad back and can't lift the dead weight. He is more willing to get caught in someone's house so that he doesn’t have to do the dumping, he can just leave after. 5 of the 6 home invasions were with women who lived alone or husbands who worked night shifts. So they wouldn’t be home. He watched them long enough to know when he could successfully get away with this.” Y/N explained as she flipped through boxes.
“And the rope technique our last victim was found in is exactly the same as the rope burns as the others you’re correct,” Spencer complimented her. “He might have ex-girlfriends or even an ex-wife who he would have tried BDSM on and she didn’t like it, so now he feels like he has to do it this way. When we deliver the profile we should alarm the public about him to draw out any women who would have willingly tried something with our unsub.”
Y/N nodded as he spoke, agreeing with everything. “That could have even been the original stressor, all the women are pretty vanilla, I talked to the husbands over the phone and the original rape victims. They weren’t into trying anything like this in their free time. 2 of the rapes were also virgins. They all had good jobs and good grades, they were outstanding, low-risk members of the community. He might be getting revenge on the women who wouldn’t indulge in this fantasy.”
“He probably feels a lack of control in his personal life, maybe he even has a more dominating wife who he feels he can't stand up to so this is how he deals with it.” Spencer agreed.
“Let's go see Hotch, I think we should deliver the profile.”
—-
They walked into the police station, gliding through the doors like they owned the place. Emily and JJ watched as they walked over to hotch with the exact same energy. Both speaking with their hands and rambling about what they had found.
“So he’s a fit, early 50’s, white male. Married, probably with kids, works with or owns a van. He has a problem with authority in his own life, he feels like he is in a submissive role all day be it from a female boss who’s always on his ass or his wife. It’s possible he even has only daughters and no sons. He feels emasculated, surrounded by women, which is why he started taking these women originally to rape them with BDSM-like acts to finally have that control he lacks in his everyday life.” Y/N explained. “He wouldn’t be very handsome, he would have issues speaking with most women, he keeps to himself, he might have even failed out of jobs involving the police or security, he wants to be in a place of power but he has none of the social skills to accomplish what he wants. I would even look into local army cadets or boy scouts he could be a very old member or the father of someone in one of those groups. His affinity for binding them up and the types of ropes he used are very common BDSM ropes but the knots are reminiscent of ones my brothers would do in at Navy cadets.”
“You got all that from the M.E?” Derek said, shocked at how good she was at this.
“I’ve been staring at his work for 2 years, every time a case from this town came in I checked into it to tie it to this guy. I don’t know what it is but this one gets to me, like BTK or Ed Kemper, these men have specific vendettas against women, they need to dominate women because they have a strong mother or wife in their presence. I know the type of man he is and I want to see him rot in prison.”
Spencer walked over to another table, spreading out a map and beginning to look at the geographical profile. Making down the 3 rapes and their dumpsites, the 6 abducted women and their dumpsites as well as the 6 home invasion homicides. Narrowing down on the geographical profile to find his comfort zone.
Y/N stood beside him watching him draw perfect circles over the map, placing a dot right in the middle. “He either lives or works in this area. Everything is within 35 miles of this area.”
Hotch took out his phone and called Garcia, placing the phone on the table with the speaker on. “Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?”
“Have you narrowed anything down?” Y/N asked.
“Yes, I have 117 orange vans originally bought in the late ’70s that are still registered to men in this area all between the ages of 45 and 60. 63 of them work in home security, 13 of those have a son in boy scouts and 4 of those have prior peeping tom allegations.” She explained.
“Any of the 4 look interesting?” Hotch asked.
“We have Travis Johnson, 55 he works for Acorn Security, he was doing service in each town that a murder took place the same week they went missing. He is married and has been since 1980 right when he stopped raping and his 5th and last daughter was born the same week that Clarice Richardson was murdered in 1998. They took in a foster child to give him a boy 3 years ago who is in boy scouts, and has all his badges in you guessed it, knot tying.”
“Do we have his home and work address?” Morgan asked.
“Yes of course I do chocolate thunder, they’ve been sent to you already. I’ve also sent a list of his appointments for today, he might be on the hunt.”
“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan smiled at the phone.
“It's what they pay me the big bucks for.”
She hung up and hotch immediately started handing out bullet-proof vests. “Time to catch him.”
Spencer rested a hand on your back as he passed you, smiling as if to say 'good job'.
Y/n grabbed her vest and her go-bag and quickly changed into something more suited for chasing after a runner. It almost always came to that in her experience. She came back out in jeans and a white long sleeve shirt tucked in, her vest on and her hair up. She placed her earpiece in and straightened out her gun. Making sure the clip was full and adding an extra one to her vest.
“Ready?” She asked Spencer as he tightened his vest.
“Let’s do this.”
They split up, Prentiss Rossi and JJ went to his house while Reid, Morgan, Hotch and Y/L/N took a squad of local cops to where the unsub was supposedly doing his house calls.
They slowly drove through the neighbourhoods, lights off just paroling up and down the streets. They saw an orange van parked on the side of the street, they watched as the unsub got out of the driver's seat, grabbing a bag and walking up to a woman’s house. Slowly they all got out of the SUV, Morgan and Hotch taking the back while Reid and Y/L/N took the front door. They waited for confirmation that he wasn’t alone in this home, before going in.
They could hear a woman talking and then there was a scream, “I’m going in,” Y/L/N said, Kicking the door down before Reid took the lead, Y/N following behind him.
“Travis Johnson? FBI!” Spencer yelled.
The two of them cleared the main room, working their way to the hallway, Reid let her take the lead to the bedroom where they heard the struggle.
“Travis put down the rope and let her go,” Y/N said slowly as he walked into the room, gun pointed.
“And why should I?” He panicked, holding the woman against his chest, she was crying gripping onto the rope he was holding tightly around her throat.
“I’m a huge fan of your work!” Y/N said. “I work for VICAP, I’m the one who had to put each and every single one of your victims in the system. I know exactly how much you’re into control and BDSM, it’s honestly surprising that you have to force these women into it, why are women so against letting a big strong man control them anymore?” She said softly as she lowered the gun and her voice.
“You know, I’ve always thought BDSM was super sexy, I’d love to be tied up and taken control of, if you put down the rope how would you like to have a willing participant one day?” She teased him, getting closer and closer, she could see he was rock hard. He loosened the rope and pushed her to the side, stepping forward towards Y/N who quickly flipped him to the floor and cuffed him.
“Travis Johnson you are under arrest for the rape and murder of over 12 women. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one will be appointed for you. If you chose to share anything without a lawyer present you have the right to stop at any time. Is that clear?”
She single handily lifted him to his feet and dragged him out of the room as the men in the hall just watched with awe.
“You’re a little bitch you know that?” The unsub said as he struggled in her grasp.
She slammed him against the hallway wall, pressing right up against his back, whispering in his ear “oh so now you have a big mouth huh, finally feel like you can talk to a woman who isn’t tied down? I’m in control here, you’re my little bitch you hear me? Only good boys get to speak to me.” She said as she pulled him back off the wall and handed him off to local PD. “Have fun being a little bitch in prison Travis.”
She stood there with her arms crossed catching her breath as the adrenalin shook through her body.
“Well done Y/L/N,” Hotch and Morgan put their fists out to give her props.
“How would you like to join the team for good?” Hotch asked? “we’ve been looking for an extra hand.”
“Absolutely!”
They were going to spend the night in Wichita, all agreeing to spend the night getting drinks at the local bar suggested by the PD. Piling into the SUV all together with Spencer offering to DD.
“How much time have you put into Travis?” Prentiss asked in the back seat beside Y/N.
“Sharon Flynn was the first case I ever put into my system 2 years ago. Her case looked so gruesome and evil it never left my mind. So then when Alice Webster, number 6 came in I did some more digging and found the 4 before Sharon and the 3 rapes, I knew it was cold for a while but something about him always stuck with me. And for some reason last week when I emailed the info to JJ out of the blue I had a gut feeling he was at it again.” Y/N explained.
“It’s a special talent to just feel when something is wrong.” JJ smiled back at them.
“I’ve always been, not fascinated, by serial killers but more interested in the chase of justice.” She explained, “if that makes sense. I love puzzles and finding answers and at least this way the end result is families finding peace.”
They pulled into the parking lot, all of them finding their way into the bar before the ladies went to the bathroom to freshen up.
“So Y/N,” Prentiss said, taking her phone out and calling Penelope. “The ladies of the BAU are very close, so welcome to our little group.”
“exactly.” Penelope said over the phone, “welcome to the group you’re going to fit right in!” She cheered.
“Thank you, VICAP was not a tight-knit group like y’all are. I’m extremely excited to get to know you all more.” Y/N smiled as she straightened her shirt out in the mirror.
“So you and Spencer?” JJ asked.
“We were in the same kindergarten class,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I thought he was going to be my best friend and then he took some test and was bumped into 4th grade. By the time I was in high school he had already finished his second Ph.D.”
“So you never kept up with each other?” Prentiss asked.
She shook her head. “I knew of him, my mom is the Activities Organizer at the home his mom is at, he used to go to the park across from my house, he now lives across the hall from me and works with me. I think we were always supposed to be friends but it wasn’t the right time till now.”
“Sounds like you have a crush,” Penelope teased through the phone.
“I do.” She smiled to herself. “I think I always have.”
“If pretty boy was here he’d say that there is a statistical likelihood that because you’ve been interested in him for longer than 3 years you’re most likely in love with him and you'll never not be.” Prentiss explained, “I heard him say that to Hotch once.”
She nodded along, “I guess I just need to get him to fall in love with me now.”
“It won't be that difficult.” JJ placed her hand on Y/N’s back and they all made their way out of the bathroom smiling.
The men were all sitting together at a table with everybody’s drinks already waiting.
“We didn’t know what you liked,” Spencer said as Y/N sat beside him. “So I said I’d go get whatever you want.”
“Or we can go up to the bar together.” She smiled.
The two of them got up and walked to the bar, the rest of the team watched them.
She leaned against the bar, ordering her drinks and pressing in close to Spencer. “It’s been so nice getting to spend time with you.” He said softly.
She was handed her drinks before she could even respond. Taking her tequila shot there and bringing her margarita back to the table as Spencer followed swiftly behind her.
They all drank and exchanged case stories from within and beyond the BAU, Spencer was able to add a lot of input but he was always cut off. Y/N leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you can tell me all your facts later I really want to hear them.” She smiled so softly Spencer felt his heart about to burst in his chest.
Emily left the group to go flirt with the bartender, JJ was on FaceTime in the SUV with Will, Rossi had disappeared with a local woman and Hotch and Morgan were exchanging childhood stories over a beer in the corner.
The bar was playing old, slow music, almost everyone had filtered out but there were still older local couples hanging out and dancing in the middle of the room.
“Do you dance?” Y/N asked Spencer.
“I can try.”
She took his hand and led him to the floor. Drunk on the alcohol and his touch as she slipped his hands around to her back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head on his chest. She felt his cheek rest on the top of her head as the two of them just swayed in a circle together.
“Do you have any other memories of me?” Y/N asked him softly.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “You lived across the street from the park, and your mom works at the nursing home. You have 2 younger brothers who have always looked older than you. They would come and go when I was sitting on the lone swing and I’d always see you in the window reading. I knew you were my age but it still never felt right for me to talk to you when I was in university.”
“I watched you every time you were on the swings, you looked so peaceful. You read at least a book a day every time you were out there and it became so special to me seeing you there every weekend.” She explained.
“The world works in mysterious ways.” He explained.
She held him as close as she could. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect her day to go like this. She expected coffee and a weird goodbye in the elevator and staring at a computer screen all day. Somehow she ended up in Spencer's arms in a different state after having caught the serial killer that's haunted her dreams for years.
He rubbed his thumb lightly over her back, “do you want to go back to the hotel? We have an early flight.” He whispered.
“Yeah,” she smiled pulling back but reaching down to hold his hand as they walked over to Hotch and Morgan.
They drove home quietly, everyone in the back was happily drunk and tired. They parked and wandered up to their rooms, saying goodbye at their doors and disappearing into their rooms.
Spencer let her take the bathroom first, changing into her PJ’s and then he did the same. She laid in her bed, facing his as he sat up and read.
“Can I come lie beside you?” She asked, knowing exactly how needy she sounded.
He nodded, pulling the sheet back so she could slip right in. She laid on her side and just looked up at him. Absolutely astounded that she was with him.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Spencer asked, putting his book down and sliding down the bed to be on her level.
“Yeah?” She said nervously.
“Today you said it’s hard for people to come forward after they are assaulted, it sounded like personal experience and I wanted you to know if you need anyone, I’m always available for you.” He explained.
“Oh,” her face dropped. “I was 12, he was 15. You were in high school at the same time as him. I don’t know if you’d remember him, his name was Christopher.”
Spencer nodded along as she spoke. “When my mom finally went back to work she didn’t trust me watching my brothers alone so her friend offered to babysit us during the days. Her foster son took advantage of me the whole summer and when my parents finally found out he went into Sophomore year and told everyone that the nerdy girl who looks like bugs bunny was obsessed with him, that I stalked him and that anything I said about him wasn’t real.”
“I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his hand over her shoulder to soothe her.
“It’s okay, they used to call me bugs bunny because of my overbite. I used to rest my front teeth on my front lip and they would throw carrots at me,” she explained further.
“It all makes sense now,” he said softly.
“What does?”
“When I was 13 the seniors had a cheerleader invite me onto the football field and convinced me to strip down to my underwear, she was about to kiss me when all the football guys ran out and beat me up, they tied me to the goal post and the one said ‘we should really hook you up with bugs bunny, you losers would be perfect together.’ And they left me there all night long.”
“Oh Spencer I am so sorry,” she cuddled in close to him, placing her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I think we went through our traumas separately all these years because something bigger than us knew we’d need each other one day.”
“When we get back to Virginia, would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked.
“I would want nothing more.” She hugged him a bit tighter.
They stayed like that for a while until Spencer felt Y/N slip into the night's slumber. He quietly reached for the lamp, turning it off and readjusting himself under Y/N’s grasp.
He fell asleep not so long after. Both sleeping soundly for the first time in a long time.
Chapter 2
They had 3 back to back cases once they arrived back at Quantico. They travelled from DC to California to North Carolina within 2 weeks of Y/N working with the BAU.
Meaning she had not yet gone on that date Spencer asked her out on.
“If we get another call as soon as I reach that elevator I am leaving and not coming back. I am exhausted,” Emily said as she packed her bag and all but sprinted for the door.
“I hope my car still runs, it’s been parked here for so long now,” Y/N added and she walked towards the door. “You coming Spence?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car,” he said with a smile as he waved her off.
Emily and Y/N waited for the elevator, Penelope and JJ quickly followed behind them with their bags in their hands. Penelope’s heels clicked as fast as they could against the floor as she tried to catch up.
“Girls night?” JJ asked, “Will said Henry is asleep and he’s about to go to bed too, so I’m free for a bit?”
“I have to go home, I’ve barely moved into my new apartment, I still have to unpack,” Y/N explained.
“How about we come have some wine and help you?” Emily offered.
“If I’m being honest, I kinda want some alone time with Spencer.” She blushed bright red.
“Oooooo,” Penelope and JJ teased.
“It’s about time someone gave Spencer the attention he deserves,” Emily laughed.
“Believe me he’s going to get too much attention now that I live across the hall from him, work with him and carpool with him,” she giggled right back. “Has he never had a girlfriend before?”
“Not that we know of,” JJ said, “he’s very quiet.”
“Have you?” Penelope asked, “dated before that is?”
“oh no, I’ve never dated anyone before, I haven’t even kissed anyone in years,” she said feeling bashful and embarrassed.
“I think that's what Spencer needs though,” Emily added, “He needs someone on the same level as him all ‘round, you two match in every sense it’s almost perfect.”
“He’s probably the only man who doesn’t make me feel scared like I want my first real love to be with someone I feel safe with, I don’t think I could do anything with like, Morgan or Hotch or any men like them. They’re nice, yeah but the aggressive authority side isn’t something I’m comfortable around outside of work.” She explained.
“Yeah, Spencer is a sweetheart. I think that’s why I didn’t end up with him honestly.” JJ said softly, “Gideon tried to hook us up years ago cause we were the youngest on the team, but I do crave that authority outside of work.”
“It’s probably because you’re in power here. You handle the media, you wear the pants and you get shit done,” Y/N said, “you want to go home and be taken care of by a man who knows how to run a household.”
“Exactly!” JJ laughed.
“I want to be taken care of, yes, but I rather be the caretaker at home. I just want someone who will do their own thing with me in the same room, to kiss me before we go to bed and make sure I know they love me.” Y/N said softly, only picturing a life with Spencer as she said it.
The elevator never moved the whole time they were in there, it dinged and opened to Spencer and Morgan waiting. “You guys are that tired you didn’t even make it to your cars?” Morgan teased.
“didn’t even push the button actually,” Y/N chimed in.
“We were having girl time,” Penelope smiled.
“well let’s go home finally,” Morgan and Spencer walked in, pressing the button to the garage and riding down in silence.
Spencer waited for Y/N to exit the elevator last before walking with her to her car. She unlocked it and got in, watching and waving as her new friends pulled out of the garage.
“Ready?” She asked, pulling out as soon as she saw Spencer nod his head with his cute little pressed-lip smile.
They drove home in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in weeks. The drive was quick, 30 minutes in the cold, dark, Virginia wilderness.
She parked in their parking lot, yawning as she turned the car off. She grabbed her purse from the back seat and made her way inside with Spencer.
“You going to sleep?” She asked him when they reached her door.
“Probably not, my brain is still too caught up in the cases,” he said honestly.
“Would you like to come in for some tea? To calm down before bed?” She offered as she unlocked her door.
She stepped inside, unlocking the alarm with the 4 digit code. Spencer tried his best not to listen but he failed, he’ll remember the sound of the code forever now.
She flicked on the light and looked around at the mess she left in her living room. “God I forgot it’s a mess in here,” she groaned.
Spencer followed her inside, following her lead and dropping his bag on the floor. He watched as Y/N walked around the house with her hand on her gun, clearing each room to make sure it was still safe.
“Sorry, I live alone, I don’t take any chances,” she said as she came back into the room.
She unlocked her safe and placed her work gun inside, closing it and spinning the lock right after. She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms out over her head. “It’s so nice to be back in this mess.”
“I can help you unpack this weekend?” Spencer offers.
“If you want to that would be nice, I’ll order us some take out too.”
She picked up the boxes on her couch and moved them to the floor, she cleared off her coffee table and took the lamps out of the box in the corner. She plugged them into the wall and set them on the end tables. Luckily her furniture was in place all she had to do was put out all her little trinkets, books and photos.
Spencer took a seat on her couch, opening a box with mugs and cups, taking them all out of their bubble wrapping and setting them on the coffee table.
Y/N managed to find her kettle, as well as the box of random food she brought from her old cupboard. She set out a variety of teas and digestive biscuits.
Spencer slowly brought the mugs over, placing them in the cupboard of Y/N’s choosing, making sure he left 2 mugs out for them.
“Can I have a green tea?” Spencer asked softly.
“Of course, is it your favourite?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I would like some caffeine but I’m not interested in having a coffee, so this is a good middle ground.”
“I’m not a fan of most hot drinks, that's why I drink ice coffee in the mornings,” Y/N poured the hot water into both cups, leaving room for milk in both mugs just in case. “But, Orange Pekoe is my favourite.”
She placed a tea bag in each mug and handed Spencers to him.
She watched him add a little sugar to his mug before picking it up and returning to the sofa. She followed him shortly after adding milk and sugar to her own, as well as a plate of cookies.
She sighed as she settled in to the couch. “Going to try my hardest to manifest a full weekend off, with no cases, if my spirit guides loved me they will listen.” She jokes.
“You’re spiritual?” He asks.
“A little?” She shrugs, “I’m very into natural medicine, lunar cycles, manifesting and affirmations. Basically what would be considered a witch back in the day.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I had a pretty invasive surgery when I was 17, and because of the body trauma, I developed fibromyalgia. And there really aren’t any answers or explanations for it so I had to turn to something to bring me peace and pain relief.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through that.”
“It’s okay, eating right, taking my supplements, sleeping and exercise help. Basically, if I take care of myself my body will thank me,” she huffed out a small laugh. “It’s annoying waking up in pain randomly for no reason. I rather wake up sore from taking down an unsub, at least then, the pain is more like a reward, you know?”
Spencer nodded along and smiled softly, “I’m glad you found something that helps you.”
“How about you? I’m guessing you’re a science-only man?”
He laughed, “yes.”
“So do you believe in soulmates?” She asked on a whim.
“In the scientific sense of the word yes. I believe when the big bang happened, all the atoms, electrons and particles that split to make the universe as we know it, still exist in us today. Who’s to say that they don’t pull back to each other, causing a cosmic connection,” Spencer explained softly, his voice low as he explained himself.
Y/N set her drink down, moving in closer to him on the couch. “And how do you know when you’ve met your other half?” She asked. Her voice was just as low.
Spencer set his mug down as well, he placed his warm hand on her cheek, “I think everything would just make sense with them. They’d orbit each other's lives for so long, observing and acknowledging one another and finally one day they’ll connect.”
He leaned in and pressed his perfectly soft lips against hers. She reached her hand around the back of his neck and held him into the kiss. Breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to keep the moment forever.
She pulled back, her breathing was deep as she opened her eyes to look into his. “If you weren’t just explaining the big bang to me, I’d think that was it.”
He laughed at her joke, making both of their hearts soar. She pressed him back against the sofa, adjusting themselves so that she was lying partially on top of him as they cuddled in her crowded living room.
They could hear the sound of the world going on around them. The subtle hum of the subway below them. The distant car horns, someone upstairs was walking around in their apartment.
They were completely quiet then, just cuddled up in their own world without any distractions. The two of them let their hands wander each other as they laid there.
Y/N slowly sat up, peeling herself out of Spencer's grip. “Do you want to spend the night here?”
“I’m just going to run across the hall and get ready for bed, I can lock up when I come back?” He said softly.
“Okay, the button with the person inside the house is the one you hold down on the alarm system after you lock both locks,” she explained before standing up and walking into her bedroom.
She changed into a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top. She brushed her teeth and hair, throwing it up in a little bun. She took out her contacts, replacing them with her glasses. She washed her face, watered her plants and sat down in her bed finally.
She had her hand on her night side drawer, where she keeps her other gun, just in case the person coming into her house wasn’t Spencer. But then she heard the alarm system arm, both locks clicked, the sound of dishes being placed in the sink and finally the sound of a lamp being clicked off.
Spencer slipper clad feet against the hardwood floor is all she heard as he walked into her room. He took the right side of the bed, wearing his PJ bottoms and a regular t-shirt. It was really the first time she was him so dressed down.
She settled down into the bed, she put her glasses on her side table, plugged in her phones and turned out the light. Spencer spooned into her, cuddling in tight and holding her against his chest.
“Goodnight, Spencer.” She whispered.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
She didn’t fall asleep right away. She basked in the glory that was Spencer Reid’s warm embrace. The feeling of his breath against her neck and his hand on her stomach.
“I love you.” Was the last thing she thinks she heard before she finally fell asleep.
She woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and clicked talk. “SSA Y/L/N,” she said.
“Hey, it’s Penelope.”
“What’s up?”
“Not a case don’t worry, I was just wondering if I could stop by with some iced coffee and breakfast sandwiches to help you unpack?” She asked way too cheerfully for whatever time it was.
“Uh yeah just give us a chance to wake up, can you come by in 30?” She said as she rubbed her eyes, waking up.
“Us?”
“Uh, yeah, Spencer came in for tea and slept on the couch,” she lied.
“No I didn’t,” he groggily chimed in from where he was cuddled into the crook of Y/N’s neck.
“Right okay, so I’ll bring Spencer some breakfast too then,” she said before hanging up.
Y/N placed the phone back on her night table, settling back into Spencer’s embrace.
“Why’d you lie?” He asked.
“Didn’t know if I had your consent to tell her about us yet,” she whispered into his hair as she placed kisses on his head.
“Morgan told me if I didn’t kiss you last night, he’d make me do another round of physical evaluations,” he smiled against her skin. “He wanted to win the bet everyone set to see who would kiss who first.”
“So you just helped the guys win?”
“Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were betting for me to kiss you first,” he admitted.
“Well, that means Rossi, Garcia and JJ think I’m the one wearing the pants here. Good to know,” she giggled.
“You can wear the pants,” he said as he shifted his weight to look up at her, “as long as I get to take them off later.”
“Well, Dr. Reid, I never thought you’d have it in you,” she was pleasantly surprised.
“When I get comfortable around someone I’m a lot different than I am at work,” he explained, “I heard what you said about needing someone to take care of who still wants to take care of you.”
She blushed, “of course you did.”
He leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck. “I think we can work something out,” he whispered.
Her breathing hitched. She couldn’t believe the complete 180º his personality just took, and she wasn’t complaining. All the moisture left her mouth as she just nodded her head in agreement.
“We should get up before she gets here,” he said, kissing her one last time before crawling out of bed.
She laid there staring up at the ceiling, shocked, flabbergasted, enamoured, basically every single word that essentially meant ‘what the fuck just happened.'
She got up, turned off the alarm and waited to use the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and replaced her tank top with a sweater. Spencer slipped across the hall to change into jeans and a button-down shirt, almost like he couldn’t be in anything else around his friends.
Penelope was a hugger, she made sure to give Y/N a good squeeze as she walked into her apartment. “It’s literally the same as Reid’s just backwards,” was the first thing she said.
“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been over there yet,” Y/N smiled, taking the coffees out of Penelope’s hands and setting them on the counter.
“JJ and Emily said they’d love to come help later too if you want them to, but it doesn’t look too bad for just the 3 of us,” she said looking around.
“Everything is labelled, my room is all done so you don’t need to worry about it, set up however you see fit, honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss figuring out how to make this place feel more like me with what I have.”
“Alright, well,” she started, looking for the box with the cleaning supplies. “First we clean the kitchen then we put everything where it has to go.”
So that's what they did, they spent a few hours wiping down every surface in the house, disinfecting the floors, the walls, door handles, nobs, everything. Then Penelope got out all her pots and pans, hanging them on the rack above the kitchen island.
Spencer took all the plates out, stacking them neatly in the cabinet. Y/N stacked her cups and glasses, placing them on the shelf with the glass door. They organized her utensils, baking equipment, cookbooks and aprons, asking all about how much she baked.
She offered to make cookies for the team soon, that was a Sunday night with Spencer activity for sure.
In the living space, there weren’t many things. Spencer unpacked the books and placed them on her shelves in library-coded order. While Penelope and Y/N unboxed all her albums and records, cheering and singing along to their favourites.
Y/N had never quite had friends like this before, people who just fit into her life so easily. This was really the best family in the FBI, they knew how to make someone feel completely and wholly loved.
“I need to get some art and stuff,” Y/N said staring at the one empty wall.
“What are you going to do on the fireplace mantle?” Spencer asked, noticing it was still empty.
“Probably some of my spiritual stuff, like my crystals and candles and incense,” she smiled.
“oh, I do that too!” Another thing they had in common.
The day blew past them. They finished unpacking and breaking down all the boxes by 2 pm, finally sitting down altogether, exhausted. Ready to order a few pizzas and chill for the rest of the afternoon.
“I really appreciate the help today,” she said as she hugged Penelope. Penelope’s hugs were more comforting than her own mother’s, she thought. Holding her tightly and taking it all in. “I’m so blessed I ran into Spencer and now I get to be your friend.”
“I will cry,” she joked as she hugged y/n tighter. “I’m very blessed to have met you as well.”
She hugged Spencer on her way out as well, forcing herself to leave or else she would have stayed and talked for hours.
As soon as Spencer closed the door behind her, he set the alarm the way Y/N liked it. She smiled at him, seeing him remember how she likes to feel completely safe.
She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. “Would you like to make out with me on my bed?”
“Like horny teenagers?” He giggled, dropping his forehead to rest on hers.
“We never really got the horny teenage experience,” she said softly.
“Are you-?” He cut himself off before he could say the word.
She looked up at him, her eyes big and innocent, she nodded. “technically.”
“Technically?” He repeated softly.
“I don’t want to count my sexual assault as my first,” she whispered. “I’ve never let anyone touch me since.”
His arms wrapped tighter around her, pulling her in closer to be right against his chest. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, forehead, nose, and finally her lips. “I’m going to try my best to never hurt you.”
She kissed him deeper, her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting to part from him. But when she did, she whispered, out of breath. “Promise to only hurt me if I ask you to?”
He saw the way his breath hitched and the way his grip changed. His face went red as he nodded feverishly.
“Are you a virgin Dr. Reid?” She teased.
“No,” he whispered. “I uh had sex in college, just to get it out of the way.”
She broke out of his grasp, taking his hand and pulling him into her bedroom. She closed the door behind them flicking on her fairy lights and lighting a couple of candles. He sat patiently on her bed as he watched her nervously organize things that had no reason to be organized in that moment.
But he let her calm down until she was fully ready, or she changed her mind. Either way, he was going to hang out with her all night long, however she wanted him.
“Close your eyes,” she asked softly. “Lay back against the bed and don’t look at me yet.” She ordered him and he listened.
He pressed his eyes closed and scooted up the bed till his head was on a pillow, laying back with his hands over his eyes. He listened closely to the sound of her taking her clothes off. She tried to steady her breath as she pulled off her sweater and sports bra and replace it with something cute.
She put on her only pair of matching underwear, ones she got on sale at some department store that she only wore for herself so far. She crawled up the bed, sitting directly on Spencer's hips.
She took his hands off his eyes, noticing they were still closed, she smiled. She placed his hands on her bare hips. “Open them.”
He opened his eyes to the most stunning image he’s ever seen in his life. Blinking a few times as his mind burned the image into the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Fuck,” he whispered.
She smiled to herself, “thought you’d like it.”
She leaned down, arching her back and kissed his neck. His hands travelled from her thighs to her perched ass as she kissed up his jaw to his ear. He was nothing but breathy moans and thank you’s as she explored him.
She ground herself down on his growing erection, smirking against his skin. She sat back on his hips, wiggling as she undid each of his shirt buttons, way too slow.
She took her time, pulling the front of his shirt out of his jeans and finally spreading the shirt open. Her hands ran over his chest before she used her nails to scrape her way down to his jean buttons.
He reached for her hands then. Stopping her and looking up into her eyes. “Before we start, I need to know what will trigger you,” he said softly.
“Oh,” her face dropped a little, she was a little overwhelmed with the fact he was asking, but she knew he truly cared. “I can’t do blowjobs yet, I will probably have a panic attack.”
“I can live without them,” he smirked, “look at everything else you do, fuck you’re amazing.” His hands roamed her skin the whole time.
She tucked her ankles under his knees and in one swift moment flipped them from laying on his side of the bed to the middle. He was on top of her now, absolutely amazed that she could do that.
“Told you I was combat trained,” she giggled.
Spencer sat up on the bed, ripping his shirt off and pushing himself out of both his jeans and underwear at the same time. Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open and the sight of his perfect cock bouncing free.
He sat back, trying to tug his jeans off of his ankles when he fell back and landed on the hardwood floor, “Spencer!” She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from her.
He huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she quickly bit her lip to try and stop laughing.
“When you said horny teenager phase I didn’t think you meant the awkward part too,” he smiled, standing completely naked in front of her.
“Get back here,” she giggled.
He got right back on top of her, between her legs that she wrapped immediately around him. Locking him in place. “How would you like it?” He asked.
“Well hypothetically,” she began with a smirk, “I think I would like to ride you, sitting up, tits in your face, the whole shebang.”
He forgot how to breathe, the most beautiful girl in the world just laid out how she wants to be fucked like it was a science experiment.
He was in love with her.
She flipped him again, “you have to stop doing that!” He gasped.
She laughed as she sat up, getting off him enough so he could sit up against the headboard. She shimmied out of her underwear before sitting down on him again, their most intimate parts just resting close to one another. She shivered at the feel of his hot skin against hers. She’d never been this close to another human before.
“Do you have a condom?” He asked, suddenly shy.
“If you want one yeah but I have an IUD in case I get,” she stopped herself, “you know, in the field.”
“Yeah that's smart,” he was so nervous.
She leaned in and kissed him. Holding his cheeks in her hands as his hands reached behind her back to undo her bra. She opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue as she felt the straps of her bra slip down her shoulders.
She let go of his face one hand at a time and peeled the bra from her skin. Flinging it across the room without looking and pressing her breasts against his chest.
She gets on her knees without breaking the kiss, reaching between them she grips the base of his cock. His breath hitches in his throat and she can feel his pulse in his shaft.
She drags the head through her folds, she breaks the kiss to breathe in his ear, “you know, you’re just a bit bigger than what I'm used to.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
She lines him up with her and slowly pushes down on him, pulling up and back down again, each time getting his cock a little wetter on her juices so he can slip in easier. “I think it was called the emerald stud, he’s in a box over there,” she whispers in his ear as she bottoms out.
She sits back, her arms around his shoulders, she rocks on his cock. His eyes slip shut as he dips his head back against her crossed wrists. “Fuck,” he breathes.
She shifts again, bouncing more on him when she’s used to his size. His hands are on her ass again, helping her bounce as he moved to kiss her neck and collarbones.
He’s all noises, hot breath against her chest and sloppy kisses. She reaches between them to rub her clit before he pushes her hand out of the way to rub her himself. Feeling how swollen she is, he squeezes her clit lightly.
She moans out a high pitches squeak that she had no idea she could make, covering her mouth as she bounced a little harder on his cock. “Fuck Spencer,” she whispered into his hair.
He kissed her ear again, “you want me to cum in you?” He asks.
“God yeah, fill me up,” she replies without thinking, tossing her head back and grinding down ever so provocatively on him.
She presses her front against him more, causing the friction from his index finger on her clit to get more intense as she bucks her hips faster and faster against him.
He’s gone. Absolutely destroyed. He cants even worn her that he’s about to cum he just tips his head back and fucks up into her, gripping her ass so tight that he knows she’s going to have 5 deep, finger-shaped, purple bruises around each ass cheek.
Her orgasm rips through her, losing balance with her shaking thighs she gasps for air, falling into him with her face in the crook of his neck. She is breathing so hard as she comes down, she drools on his neck a little.
He pulls his hand out from between them, flicking her clit on last time. Sending a tremor through her body. She twitches against him, tensing up and tightening around the cock still inside her.
He moans once more, and she feels the tiniest trickle of cum slip out of her as he lifts her off him.
They don’t talk. They just hold onto one another, breathing and rubbing their hands over each other's skin.
“Wow,” Spencer finally says.
“Yeah,” she agrees.
“Hypothetically,” he says with a smile, “I think the outcome we reached was the intended goal?” Only Spencer Reid would make a joke like that after sex.
She laughed and kissed his neck, “very successful, I would be willing to switch techniques next time to see if we can repeat this outcome.”
“Sounds like a date.”
chapter 3
They worked together perfectly. Every morning he’d head across the hall to his own apartment to get ready, coming back to a slice of toast and coffee in his travel mug ready to go.
She looked gorgeous every morning. She put time and effort into what she wore to work, just to chase psychopaths all day. He was in love with her, its the only thing he knew for sure when he looked at her. He was never going to recover from falling for her.
He’d hold all her things while she sets the alarm and locks the door. She would drive them to work each morning and even then he’d carry all her things up to the office.
Everyone noticed how Spencer changed around Y/N, he was always smiling, he was basically glowing from being in love, and having sex. Derek teased him constantly, but in all honesty, he was really proud of his little bro.
They had a slow day, which meant all the ladies filed into Penny’s office to shoot the shit when they were really supposed to be writing reports.
“So?” Penelope looked at Y/N with an arched eyebrow. “How is he?”
She shook her head and giggled to herself. “Really good.”
“Really?” Emily pried?
“He has this other personality that comes out when we, you know,” she was afraid to say fuck inside the walls of Penelope’s office. “I’m addicted, I was so afraid to have sex and now I’m like having an internal battle of is it really worth getting caught in the filing room for a quicky!”
They all burst into laughter, sharing stories of all the times each of them has fucked at work, “you won't get caught if you let us help you?” JJ said with a smirk.
“You’re kidding?” Y/N tilted her head, not believing her.
“I can ask Morgan and the team to lunch while you stay here, text Spencer saying to stay back to get work done but he can meet you in here.” Penelope planned the whole thing.
“No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable enough for that yet.” She was being completely honest.
“We need a code word for when you choose to use this plan,” Emily said. “Like you group text us the word ‘switch’ and we will keep everyone busy for you and Spence.”
“Why do you want me to fuck him here so bad?”
They all laughed, “because we’re not used to Spence getting this kind of love!” JJ said. “Emily and Penelope covered for me literally when me and Will made Henry.”
“having a hand in making my godson gave me a god complex,” Penelope joked.
They got along fabulously, laughing and working all afternoon before the boys came to get them.
“We got something.”
Y/N walked out first joining Spencer in the hall with a smile, standing close enough to him as they walked that their knuckles rubbed together. She sat beside him in the briefing room, opening the case file in front of her and flipping through the info.
“Wow,” she whispered to herself. “I know a few of the 13 women, I put them in the missing system.”
Spencer rubs his hand over her back softly, looking at the pages she’s flipping through.
Garcia wasn’t cheery anymore, she grabbed the remote for the tv and started her rundown.
“Over the last 6 days, police in Winnemucca Nevada have dug up 13 bodies of women who have gone missing in the last 10 years. He seems to kill sporadically without patterns. M.E has confirmed all 13 women, and de-comp shows they were all killed within 24 hours of going missing.”
“Cause?” Prentiss asked.
“All 13 were strangled with plastic shopping bags, that were left wrapped around their faces in the graves. They were all sexually assaulted antemortem, but not all of them died from asphyxiation. He also stabbed 9 of the 13 victims, 5 of which died from massive blood loss. But the real kicker was that all 13 of them had their wombs removed.” Penelope finished.
“Do we know if any of them were pregnant?” Y/N asked.
“Yes,” she said flipping through slides, “victim number 13, Traci Purcell was 17 and according to her autopsy, her HCG levels indicated she would have been 3 weeks along when she was murdered.”
“Are they able to see if the others were pregnant?” Hotch asked.
“They’re working on it, best bet will be for me to pull medical records and to ask the family.”
“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch nodded towards the door.
Slowly but surely they all filed into the plane, Y/N took a window seat, quickly burying her head in the file, looking at each and every victim carefully.
“Spence, would you help me place the geographical profile?” Y/N asked him softly as he got comfortable in the seat across from her.
“Once we take off we can spread out the map,” he smiled softly back at her. Even when dealing with the hard cases they managed to get caught up in each other's eyes.
“Okay love birds, can I sit here too or will I get more than air sickness?” Morgan said, pretending to feel sick as he sat beside Y/N.
She smacked his arm lightly.
“Speaking of,” Spencer said, stopping to swallow nervously. “Hotch I’m going to need 2 of the workplace fraternization forms when we get back.”
Everyone on the plane cheered at him, he got 3 high-fives and all the congratulations in the world. Y/N immediately felt her face warm up.
“Don’t worry, Garcia filed them for you that night she helped you unpack,” Hotch smiled into his paperwork.
“How did she even know?” Y/N’s voice went up 3 octaves as she panicked.
“At least we know when pretty boy lost his V card now,” Morgan smirked.
“No, just me.” Y/N corrected him. To which Spencer was given yet another high five.
Just then Spencer was handed $20 from Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. Y/N raised an eyebrow, “why?”
“I bet them $20, years ago, that I am in fact not a virgin and they said they would and I quote ‘only pay me if a woman who has fucked me confirms it.’ So who’s going to tell Gideon to pay up?” He explains.
The team carried on like normal after all the excitement died down. Having side conversations, working on the case, sleeping. The trip from Quantico to Winnemucca was fairly quick.
Y/N sat with Spencer at the table, spreading out the map and watching him place where all 13 victims disappeared from as well as where they were found. They were spread over 3 subdivisions, all 35 miles at least away from the burial sites.
“The park,” Spencer said softly.
“Is that the middle ground?”
“Yeah there’s something significant with the park,” Spencer confirms.
Spencer and Y/N went to the M.E together, all 13 women were labelled and displayed under white sheets. They took their time looking over each skeleton and the bodies.
“Clean cuts on the stomach, I wonder why he didn’t stab her?” Spencer said as he looked at the 13th victim.
“She might have cooperated better, or and I hate to say it but, seeing as she was Asian there is a high chance she didn’t bear resemblance to the source of the unsubs rage meaning she got to go out a little easier,” Y/N suggested with a disgusted look on her face.
“The 5 who died of blood loss were all white, brown hair, green eyes. 3 were 26, 2 were 29. They might be exactly his type,” Spencer confirmed the theory.
“They were also murdered,” she flipped her notebook open to show a chart with 5 columns. “June, February, June, November, November. Could also mean something to him.”
“What is that?” Spencer asks.
“It’s a chart that has the name, their age, the missing date and last scene location, the estimated date of death, and the cause. So that I can easily refer to the most important info when making a connection,” She explained. “My brain works better if I can see everything, so I also have my own little hand-drawn map of the area on his page as well as all my ideas in case I don’t get a turn to speak.”
“That’s really smart,” he smiled.
“So June, November and February might be significant to him.”
“Let’s go tell Hotch.”
Spencer drove for once, Y/N sat in the passenger seat in the SUV, doodling into her notebook.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Spencer asked.
“I wrote down the first letter of each month,” she explained, showing him the notebook. “And I circled each of the 3 months that repeat, February, June and November.”
“Okay?” He followed along.
“From February to November it’s 10 months or 40 weeks which is the typical length of a pregnancy,” She explained further. “This whole thing is clearly about pregnancy seeing as he is taking wombs. It’s clearly not a woman seeking revenge because of the sexual assault so it has something to do with him seeking revenge for a pregnancy in his life.”
“Could even be his own, like he’s punishing women who look like his mother because he wishes he was never born,” Spencer ponders.
They pulled into the police station, she got out and walked in all with her head still in the notebook. “Find anything?” Hotch asked.
“Of course she did,” Spencer bragged about her.
They all took a break, going back to their hotels to get some rest. All agreeing that since the media hasn’t released anything about this case yet the killed has no idea. They take it in faith that he will stick to his 2 to 4 month waiting period.
They all returned the next morning, refreshed and ready to resume their findings. JJ and Emily spent most of the morning interviewing families of the victims, specifically asking if they knew the vic was pregnant as well as what significance the park played in or around their pregnancies.
Y/N sat in silence with a coffee, flipping through her notebook. Hotch and Morgan were running over ideas they all had with Garcia on the phone.
“Hey, Spence?” Y/N called boy wonder over from the map he had been staring at.
“Yes, my love?” He says softly.
“I think I have an idea, can you go over it with me before we tell the team?” She asked.
“Of course,” he took a seat beside her.
“Why do I have an IUD?” She asks him in a whisper.
“In case you get raped in the field,” he whispered back.
“More specifically.”
“So you don’t get pregnant as a result of a rape in the field.”
“The sexual assaults in his mind, are him getting these victims pregnant. But they’re already pregnant when he picks them right?” She explains, “So that when he removes the uterus postmortem it's his way of aborting the child.”
“So this is all about abortion?” Spencer confirms.
“More specifically to do with how you said he regrets being born,” she corrects.
“Do you think he’s the product of a failed abortion?”
She nodded her head, “yeah and that by taking the whole uterus, and the strangling, and the stabbing, both mother and baby are for sure dead.”
“Hotch!” Spencer called across the room. “Y/N figured it out.”
They waited for JJ and Prentiss to finish an interview before they all piled into an office to discuss Y/N’s idea.
“Is there even any way to know if someone is the product of a failed abortion?” Prentiss asked after Spencer and Y/N took turns explaining how they came to their conclusion.
“Probably the best way would be to search for babies born with the common disabilities that occur in babies of failed abortions, but make sure they were born in November,” Y/N explained.
“Why November?” Penelope asked over the phone.
Y/N took a whiteout marker and started writing on the whiteboard.
“The 5 victims that died from loss of blood were all exactly the same, they were murdered in June, February, June. November and November.” She explained.
Writing “J F M A M J J A S O N D” on the whiteboard. Circling February, June and November.
“February, conception. 10 months later, or 40 weeks, is November. June is 4 months along meaning that would be when the mother either had the abortion, be it medical or homemade,” Y/N explained.
“Last year alone 146 of the 164,045 abortions resulted as a failure. When this happens most women choose to have the second procedure, or a D and C. Or they can carry the baby the rest of the way to term,” Spencer explained. “Children brought to term from a first-trimester medical abortion failure often have limb or digit abnormalities while infants born from non-medical approved abortions are more likely to have congenital problems.”
“However someone without a limb would not be able to do what our unsub is capable of. Digging graves, abducting, dragging dead bodies, it’s a lot of effort,” JJ added.
“Exactly, which is why I think our unsub probably has a mental disability.”
“Non-medical abortions, most often referred to as the poor person’s method, is taking a non-FDA approved ulcer treatment drug called Misoprostol, which is causing an epidemic of birth defects all along South America and parts of Asia,” Spencer added. “It induces contractions, causing women to deliver babies far too early to survive outside of the womb. If taken after the first trimester, and unsuccessful it can cut off oxygen to the brain long enough to permanently damage development in the frontal lobe.”
“Did the families mention anything about the park?” Y/N asked Prentiss and JJ.
“So far 4 of the victim's husbands say their wives announced they were pregnant on park benches, near the children swinging. They said it was the typical, ‘that could be us one day, that day came sooner than you thought’ moments from movies.” JJ confirmed.
“Let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced, following them all into the precinct.
They spent the next few hours looking for anyone with birth defects or mental disabilities that could be a potential suspect. Asking the other officers as well as anyone around the park about the type of man they were looking for.
Morgan and JJ patrolled the park while Rossi and Prentiss asked around on the street.
“Lynette Hayward,” Y/N whispered to herself, standing up and rushing through all the papers on the table in front of her.
“She was the only one who wasn’t pregnant, she was the only one who wasn’t reported missing, she was the oldest and in her youth, she had brown hair and green eyes. What if she’s his mother?” Y/N expressed to Spencer and Hotch who were watching her scramble around.
She pulled her phone out and called Garcia, “what’s cooking good lookin’?” Penelope answered.
“Can you help unscramble my egg brain?” She joked right back.
“Sure thing, whatcha got?”
“Lynette Hayward, does she have children, was she ever pregnant, or put someone up for adoption?”
“Let me check into it and I will call you right back!” Garcia said, hanging up and going right to work.
“Is there anyone here who knew Lynette Hayward about 30 years ago? She would have been 26 to 29, my height, brown hair, and green eyes?” Y/N announced to the whole Police Department.
“I did,” an officer said, standing up from the desk on the other side of the room.
She waved him over, pulling out a chair and asking him to sit.
“Was Lynette ever pregnant?” Y/N asked.
He thought for a moment, licking his lips and harkening all the way back to his 20’s. “There was a summer that no one saw her."
"When was this?" Spencer asked.
"From June to November, not a single person saw her. We thought maybe she was doing summer classes somewhere,” he explained.
“Were there any children dropped off at a fire hall or a hospital that November?” Spencer asked.
“There was a baby left in the park, poor little guy had been left out there in the cold,” he said.
Hotch, Spencer and Y/N all took a deep breath and looked at each other. “That’s him.”
Garcia called back then, “I found 1 baby left abandoned in the park in November of 1979, he was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate, seizures, and later on he was diagnosed with diabetes, Crohn’s disease and Asperger's syndrome.”
“Name and address?” Spencer asked.
“That's the difficult part, he was born, operated on and handed over to the state and cared for by a foster family that named him Jake Alexander Ingrid. At the age of 6, he was adopted by them fully. When he was 12 he dropped out of the public school system due to bullying that left him in the hospital with a broken arm. After that, his trail goes cold.”
“How cold?” Y/N asked.
“If I didn't know better I'd say he was the one missing not Lynette,” Garcia confirmed.
“Does anyone live in Lynette’s house?” Hotch asked.
The sound of Garcia’s typing was all they heard over the phone, “her bills are being paid on time, someone is in her trailer. I’ve sent the address to your phones.”
“Let’s go.”
Hotch kicked the trailer door in, “FBI!”
He was asleep, startled awake in the bed that used to belong to his birth mother. He cried, overwhelmed with the 3 guns pointed in his face. Hotch sighed, cuffing him and reading him his rights.
“Why are the worst ones always the sadist?” Y/N asked Spencer as they watched forensics tore apart the trailer.
“Sad in what context?”
“His whole life was so fucked up, it sucks. All those women crossed paths with him and he took his fucked up life and ended theirs, as well as their babies,” Y/N couldn’t stop shaking her head as she spoke, disgusted with the whole situation.
Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, “if we spend all our time wondering why the world is like this we won't have enough time to bring justice to the victims.”
“which is the best outcome we can ask for,” Y/N agreed.
“Dr, Reid, agent Y/L/N?” An officer interrupted their hug and watched them awkwardly pull away from each other quickly.
“Yes?” Spencer answered.
“We found the wombs.”
The worst fucking sentence she had ever heard. “I can’t look at that.” She said, walking away to join JJ and Prentiss standing by the SUV.
“Good job kid,” Morgan said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re almost as smart as boy wonder over there.”
“Just call me Mrs, boy wonder then,” she joked.
“Don’t tempt him!” Prentiss joked.
Y/N turned back to see Spencer walking out of the trailer, a shade of green spreading across his skin. “Excuse me,” she said walking towards the ambulance that was on standby.
“Dr. Reid looks like he might be sick,” she said, taking an EMT with her towards him.
Sure enough, Spencer leaned over the bushes and hurled before passing out into the EMT’s arms. Morgan and Hotch came running over to him, helping get him into an ambulance.
“What happened?” Morgan asked.
“He took a look at the recovered womb’s the forensic team found,” Y/N explained.
“That would do it,” Hotch agreed.
Y/N rubbed her hand along Spencer’s shoulder, “good catch,” the EMT complimented her as he took Spencer's vitals.
“I know him well.”
“Too well,” Morgan agreed. “You’d think you were cut from the same cloth.”
“No,” she said softly, gripping Spencer’s hand in her own as he started to stir a little. “We’re cosmically connected, made from the same space rock that split during the big bang.”
“I love you,” he whispered, awake the whole time she was speaking.
“Yeah, yeah,” she teased him, “I know, save your strength, you’re still all pasty white.”
“Gross,” Morgan smiled, turning away from the ambulance
chapter 4
Prentiss convinced Y/N and Spencer to take the weekend off in Nevada to go visit their parents. They agreed that it would be nice, seeing as neither of them thought to tell their moms that they met again let alone that they were together.
Y/N walked into the Nursing home first, looking for her mom in her office as Spencer walked in quickly to go find his mother.
“Hey mom,” Y/N smiled as she knocked on her mother's office door.
“Y/N!” She yelled, shocked to see her eldest baby standing in front of her for the first time since last Christmas. “What are you doing here?”
“Remember how I moved?” She started there.
“Yes?”
“Well, my new neighbour ended up being Spencer Reid, and he introduced me to the BAU and I helped them with a case, so they hired me, and now I work for them and we just finished a case in Winnemucca and me and Spencer are dating. He’s here too and we’re taking the weekend off to tell you and Diana,” she had never rambled so fast to her mother before in her life.
“Holy shit?” Her mother was shocked, “this all happened in the last 3 weeks? Is that why you’ve been too busy to text me?”
“I’ve been on 5 cases in the last 3 weeks, I was swamped,” she smiled, her eyes welling with tears.
Her mom walked over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, holding her close. “My baby, this is everything you wanted why are you crying?”
“I haven’t taken a moment to actually understand that this is all real,” she whispered.
Her mother pulled back, looking in her eyes with a stern look. “Is he good to you?”
She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s wonderful.”
“Diana is in the game room, let’s go see them,” she tucked her arm under Y/N’s and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the game room.
Diana stood up as she saw them walk in, “Debbie’s daughter?” She asked.
Spencer nodded with a large smile on his face. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my partner.”
“I know you,” Diana said softly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “You would read to me on Thursdays after Spencer left for CalTech.”
“Really?” Spencer asked.
“I knew you were here as often as you could be, and I felt bad she didn’t have any other children to come see her,” Y/N explained. “I know if my mom was here and my brother couldn’t visit I’d fill in.”
“It was lovely, I still have the book you gave me before you left for the academy,” Diana’s smile was as big and bright as Spencer’s.
They all sat together, sharing stories with each other. It seemed like their mothers enjoyed sharing embarrassing kid stories to make Spencer and Y/N blush back and forth.
Before they knew it, it was 3 pm and visiting hours were coming to an end and Debbie’s shift was about to end as well. “Where are you both staying?” She asked.
“At a hotel downtown,” Y/N explained.
“Nonsense, stay with me and your father!” Debbie insisted.
Y/N shook her head, “we can come to visit for dinner tomorrow, but we need some space.”
“You know how it feels to be in love especially this young Deb, I’m sure you understand,” Diana patted her on the shoulder.
“Go on, have fun. But tomorrow dinner starts at 6:15, Levi and Lizzie also home this weekend,” Debbie smiled, hugging both Spencer and Y/N before Diana.
“Would Diana be able to come to dinner at our place?” Y/N asked.
“I think I can pull some strings,” Debbie agreed, “have a good night tonight guys.”
“We will,” Spencer smiled, taking Y/N’s hand and walking with her to the parking lot.
They both sighed as they sat in their rental car. “That went well,” Y/N said softly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you visited my mom?” Spencer asked, holding her hand again.
“I was going to, there’s so much I want to tell you but we haven’t had enough personal time to get through it all, every time we talk lately it’s about murder,” she replied.
“Let's go get a table at a nice restaurant and tell each other everything.”
“I have something to do first, can I drop you off at the hotel and meet you there?” She asked.
“absolutely.”
-—
She drove to her parent's place as fast as she could, they were all just sitting down in the living room when she walked in the door. “Hi sorry I can’t stay I just want to grab a dress from my closet.”
She kicked her shoes off and ran up the stairs to her bedroom just like she would have after school. Her room hadn’t changed much. Her desk was still in the corner, her bed was made, and her mom now used it for storage. There were boxes, lamps, pillows and a million folded blankets all resting on her bed and scattered along the floor.
She shuffled some things out of the way of her closet door and quickly looked through all the bagged dresses she had left here. Minoring in political science and volunteering with government organizations in college meant she had a dress for every occasion, times the 4 years she was there.
“Cocktail, dinner, black tie, prom, homecoming,” she flicked through them all, “funeral,” she said as she stopped. “Why is this here?”
She pulled out a black dress she wore to a democratic representatives fundraiser, it was an off-the-shoulder, 3/4 length sleeve, plunging neckline, skin-tight dress with a slit to show some leg. It was perfect.
She placed it on the edge of her bed and dug out the black heels that she originally bought to go with the dress. She found a strapless bra in her dresser, and a cute pair of underwear buried at the back of her drawer.
She closed her door and quickly changed, walking across the hall in her heels to fluff her hair in the mirror and figure out how the fuck she was going to do her makeup here.
Just then her brother's wife came walking up the stairs, “Y/N?” She knocked on the bathroom door before coming in.
“Hey Lizzie,” she smiled. “Do I look okay?” She asked.
Lizzie looked her up and down with a shocked look on her face, “yeah what’s the occasion? I didn’t even know you were home?”
“It’s a long story, my boyfriend and I were here on a case and we’re staying for the weekend, you get to meet him tomorrow!” She filled her in as she searched the bathroom drawers for makeup.
“What do you need?” She asked.
“Do you have your makeup kit here? We’re like the same shade right?”
Before she knew it, Lizzie was making her sit on the edge of the tub while she did Y/N’s makeup for her. “Remember when you did my prom makeup?” Lizzie asked.
“Yeah,” she smiled. “You and Levi looked so good together that night.”
“Not as good as you look right now, he’s going to eat you alive,” she hyped Y/N up.
“You think so?” Y/N asked, standing up to take a look in the mirror.
“Absolutely!!!”
She took a deep breath and shook the nerves out, “okay I have to go,” she said running back to her room for her phones, wallet and badge.
“Go get him, SSA Y/L/N,” Lizzie smiled as she watched y/n steadily run down the stairs in heels, clicking on the hardwood as she ran.
“Wait!” Her dad yelled from the table, “don’t I get to see you before you leave?”
She ran into the table room, quickly hugging her father at the head of the table and kissing him on his bald head. “I’m late for my date, I love you, I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said running back towards the front door and to her car.
She was like a mad chicken running around with her head cut off. She took a breather in the car before starting the engine and making her way back downtown.
--
She left her car out front with the valet, saying she would be back in a minute. She dug her phone out of her wallet and called Spencer. “I’m in the lobby.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She waited by the elevator, she pulled her boobs up into her bra and wiggled the wire till they looked okay, then she straightened her dress out. She never felt this nervous when she wore this dress the last time, she’s never felt this nervous period, actually.
Spencer Reid did something to her that she couldn’t quite describe. But if she had to, she’d say he makes her feel alive.
The elevator dinged and Spencer walked out in one of his best suits. He was looking down at his button as he stepped out not seeing her at first.
She smiled at him, waiting for him to look up. When he did his eyes grew three times their normal size and his mouth dropped. He stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lightly running his hands down her arms. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“Could say the same thing about you Dr. Reid,” Y/N teased as she pulled on his tie.
She pulled him down by his tie and pressed her lips against his. Never before had either of them been a big fan of PDA, but this was an exception.
She pulled back from him and tucked his tie back into his jacket. Smoothing out his sleeves before taking a step back and handing him the keys. “Lead the way doctor.”
He extended his arm to which she wrapped her arm around. He walked her to the front of the lobby, watching as the bellhop held the door for them.
Their car was still there, waiting with the valet who opened the door when he saw her return. She sat on the passenger side, fixing the slit of her dress to not show too much just yet.
Spencer joined her, sitting in the driver's seat he started the car and drove off.
He reached his hand over to place it on her thigh, where it belonged. He gripped her leg and felt down to where her holster was. She saw his eyebrow raise as he looked down, moving the side of her dress to see her gun strapped to her leg.
“Gonna shoot me if I’m not on my best behaviour tonight, agent?” He laughed.
“Nevada is a concealed carry state, and I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Plus I look like this tonight, do you know what the crime rate is in Los Vegas-? Don’t answer that, of course, you do,” she teased him.
“It’s pretty hot,” he complimented her.
“What? The gun or my attitude?”
“The fact that you don’t take shit from anyone, you’re a badass and I never have to worry about you.”
“What if I want you to worry?”
“I’m always going to worry, I just mean you’re not a damsel in distress. I can go into every situation knowing you’re smarter on your feet than anyone on the team, and as long as you’re there we’re coming out alive,” he explained better.
“That’s the best compliment,” she felt bashful all of a sudden. She put her hand on his and squeezed it. “I love you, Spencer,” she finally told him.
“I love you too,” he smiled.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t said it back yet.”
He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant they were going to, returning his focus fully to driving. He pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.
“I knew you’d say it when you were ready, I’m in no rush to hear it,” he leaned over the centre console and kissed her on the lips.
He got out of the car and walked around to open her door, helping her out before extending an arm out for her once more.
He made a reservation while he was alone at the hotel, getting a table in the back away from everyone else. It was a round table with a booth stretching all the way around the table. The back of the chair tall enough to enclose them in their own little world for the time being.
They were at a cute little stake house, one where you got to pick the exact piece of meat you wanted and they did it however you asked. They ordered drinks and enough bread to make the waiter look at them differently.
“Tell me the most random fact about you,” Y/N asked as soon as the waiter left to tell the kitchen their order.
“When my mom’s schizophrenia started getting bad, she thought that the government used dryers to take our socks for DNA and clone us, so whenever one of my socks went missing she freaked out. After that, I started wearing mismatched socks all the time so that that way she would never notice which of the pairs were missing since I never wore them that way anyway.”
She smiled the whole time he talked, absolutely in love with him. He was her everything. “So that’s why I’ve got so many random socks around my house.”
“It’s worse at my apartment,” he smiled again. “Your turn.”
“The first time I ever rode a bike without training wheels was because I stole my neighbour's bike and took off with it down the road,” she laughed.
“Why?”
“I think my mom said I couldn’t take my own training wheels off yet, so I took matters into my own hands.”
“See?” He shook his head lightly. “Badass.”
“When was the last time you were in Vegas?” She asked.
“Earlier this year when we reopened the Riley Jenkins case,” he said softly.
“oh, my mom was telling me about that one! Your mom went off her meds to help remember if your dad was involved right?” Y/N recalled.
He nodded, “do you know what really happened?”
“I have the gist, Lou killed Gary in revenge for Riley.”
“That's not all of it,” he said lightly. “Gary was watching me, and my mom told Lou that the way he looked at me, he might have been the one who hurt Riley. And then she witnessed Lou kill Gary.”
“Holy shit Spence, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Did you know Gary was my neighbour?” ,
“No?”
“Yeah we were 4, my brother was 2 and my mom was pregnant again, and Gary kept taking photos of my brother through the fence. My dad threatened to kill him a few times and then we finally moved across town,” she explained.
“How is it that our lives were so intertwined, and yet it took 20 years for us to actually connect again?” He asked.
“The same thing happened to my parents.”
“What’s their story?” He asked.
She moved around the table to sit closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “My dad is 8 years older than my mom, they met when she was 17 and he was 26 and they became good friends like he was her older brother. They realized years later that my dad delivered newspapers to the town my mom lived in, and he saw her basically grow up playing in the yard. Then his best friend always invited him to his cabin and when he finally went, the lot across from them was my mom's family cabin. They were always so close but never knew each other till they were meant to. And now they’ve been happily married for 30 years.”
“There's an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer explained.
“It took 500 years of coincidences to bring us together,” she said softly. “Which kinda makes the 20 years of admiring you from afar not seem so long.”
“From here on out let’s make every moment count then,” Spencer suggested, “we’ve been barely dating for 3 weeks I’m not going to ask you to marry me right this instant, but I do intend to spend the rest of my life with you in whatever capacity I can. Because I think you’re it for me.”
She could bask in the feeling of her heart fluttering like this for the rest of her life, it was like butterflies but completely calm. True happiness at its finest.
“Let’s make a deal,” she said softly, “in 1 year we come back here, and if we feel the exact same way as we do right now, you can propose to me.”
He put his pinky out for her, she wrapped hers around his, before kissing each other's knuckles. “Promise.” Spencer and Y/N said at the same time.
Back in the hotel room, she didn’t even bat an eyelash before slamming Spencer against the door. She slid her thigh between both his legs and boxed him in.
She undid the single button of his suit jacket, shushing Spencer. She pushed it off his arms, knocking it to the floor. She loosened his tie, tossing it to the side, still around his neck, while she unbuttoned his shirt.
He was completely silent and still. She was in control.
She tossed his shirt to the ground next. Holding onto his tie as she pulled him down into a heated kiss.
“Take my dress off,” she breathed into his mouth, feeling his hands reach around her back for the zipper.
He pushed the sleeves down her arms, watching the dress gather at her ankles before she stepped out and kicked the fabric out of the way. She tugged him by his tie towards the bed.
“Strip,” she instructed him. “Not the tie.”
“Underwear too?” He asked as she dug through his suitcase.
“yes.”
She returned with 2 more ties. Looking at him, butt naked on the bed. She stepped out of her underwear and the uncomfortable strapless bra. She set her gun in the hotel safe with her badge and returned to the bed.
“Would you be willing to try something?” She asked.
“anything,” he said, overly eager.
“Would you tie my hands to the bedpost and blindfold me and just do whatever you want?”
“Hold on,” he got off the bed and opened his go-bag side pocket. “I have a blindfold for the plane.”
“So you want to?”
Actions speak louder than words, he would always say.
He dimmed the lights down, got on the bed and roughly picked her up laying her back against the pillows. He tied her left hand first, and then her right hand. He took a hair elastic off the bedside table and put her hair back as best he could before he rested the blindfold against her forehead.
He hovered over her. “Anything I want?” Spencer confirmed.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Ground rules?”
“Yellow for slow down, red for stop?” She shrugged.
“You really mean anything?”
“I trust you, Spencer Reid, make me feel good,” she smiled.
He kissed her on the nose before coving her eyes with the blindfold.
She had always wanted to try this, it was a kink she had always been determined to try. She took a deep breath and tried her best to listen to him as he moved to sit between her spread legs.
He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips before following the curve to her waist. He gripped her waist tightly and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, breathing her in as he kissed.
She wasn’t embarrassed about her tummy, for the first time in her life she loved her body. She felt him kiss all over her chest, dragging his bottom lip along her skin. He licked a stripe between her breasts, dropping his chin to her chest then to blow lightly over the wet trail.
She felt her nipples harden, she could physically hear the smirk that spread across his face.
He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands as he groped her lightly. She squirmed, trying her best to grind her hips against his.
He pushed her hips against the bed, “be patient.”
He disappeared then. She felt his weight shift and get off the bed. She let out a deep breath, knowing she told him he could do anything and that included punishing her. She literally asked for it.
“I picked something up after you dropped me off,” she heard him say from the other side of the room.
He walked around for a minute, taking something out of a hard plastic container. He struggled with ripping it, she heard papers fall the floor and something hard hit the floor. “Shit.”
She heard him walk towards the bathroom, she crossed her ankles and just waited.
He came back to the bed, moving her legs apart like they were when he left. “stay.”
He crawled between her legs once more, his hand brushed her thigh and it was cold and wet like he washed his hands.
“Can I touch you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head feverishly.
She heard a small buzzing, an all too failure sound. The first place she feels the vibration is in her belly button. Causing her to let out a shocked little giggle.
“Shhh,” he smiled.
He dragged the little bullet vibrator down her stomach, over her pelvis and finally, finally, against her clit. She let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh of relief.
All she wanted was for someone else to control her pleasure, surprise her, set the rhythm, the speed, everything. She spent so long pleasuring herself, she was so ready to sit back and just take it.
Spencer felt the same. He took his time, feeling every inch of her skin, kissing every single place he wanted to. He spent so much time just looking. Finding freckles and scars and kissing them. He was mesmerized by the fact she was real, that a beautiful woman would lay down in front of him, spread open like this and just let him explore. It felt like the best wet dream his brain could ever conjure.
She could feel him getting closer to her. His weight shifted and she felt his breath on her leg. She took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach in the anticipation of feeling a tongue on her for the first time ever.
He turned off the vibrator. Setting it to the side as he looped his arms around her thighs. Just admiring the view. Just then her whole body shivered as she anticipated the heat of his tongue.
He pressed a kiss to her clit first before flattening his tongue against her. “Sweet fucking Jesus Christ,” she gasped.
“I’ve never done this before,” he breathed against her.
“Explore away, sir,” she whispered.
He clearly did research, if he didn’t just say this was his first time eating someone out, she would think he was an expert. She regretted having her hands tied up at that moment. She squirmed, he held her hips down. She gripped the ties around her wrists wishing it was Spencer's hair.
She was never big into overstimulation or denial, never having the willpower to keep going after making herself cum once. Spencer, however, had the ability to bring her to the edge again and again without ever letting her spillover.
She didn’t beg, she didn’t complain, she sat there in the blissful feeling and waited. It was heavenly.
“Spence,” her breathing was heavy.
He hummed, letting her know he was listening. His tongue still wiggling back and forth on her clit.
“Can you please just fuck me now?”
He kissed his way back to her mouth. All up her stomach, over her breasts, her neck and jaw. She could taste herself on his lips, “untie me?” She asked softly.
He let one hand free, which she immediately used to grip his hair. The second hand was freed and she pushed the blindfold up and worked her way into a sitting position while he kneeled in front of her.
“Anything else you want to try?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes once again. She pushed his hair out of his face and just looked at him.
“Lie back and roll over,” he instructed.
He pulled her into a face-down, ass-up position and aligned himself with her. Pushing in little by little till he bottomed out. He reached around the bed for the vibrator and placed it in her one hand.
“You decide when you cum,” was all he said before he started fucking her.
She white-knuckled the pillow as he rammed into her, she was arched in the most perfect way for him to hit her g spot every time he rammed into her.
“My hair,” she gasped, wanting him to grab her by her ponytail as he fucked her.
With one hand on her hip to steady her and the other in her hair, he fucked into her like his life depended on it. Her legs were quaking, she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t cum soon.
She flicked on the vibrator and pressed it against her own clit, feeling the familiar heat bubble in her stomach. “Fuck me, oh god,” she chanted.
Cuming with a shout, she dug her face into the pillow and all but screamed. Pushing back against Spencer as he bucked into her one last time and erupted inside of her.
His hips shook as he emptied his load before slowly pulling out and dropping down beside her.
She turned her head to look at him, eyeliner and mascara all smudged around her eyes, makeup all over the pillow. She was trying her hardest to catch her breath, staring at him with a smile on her face.
“If sex was an Olympic sport, I think we’d win,” she complimented him.
“you think?” He asked, his breath just as shaky as hers.
She rolled onto her back, letting him cuddle into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. “Everyone told me that the first time I have sex it’ll be underwhelming and uneventful, and yet every time we fuck I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I should invest in a wheelchair.”
He laughed, “would you put that in writing and send it to everyone from our high school?”
She smacked his arm. “and then I’d have to swat women off you with a bat if I wanted any alone time, you’re mine now.” She wrapped her whole body around him and held him there.
“I love you,” Spencer smiled.
“I love you, more.”
chapter 5
They packed everything into their car just to go to her parents house. There was something in Y/N’s gut that told her there was a case coming.
Her parents lived 30 minutes out of the city, on the edge of a cul-de-sac that faced a park. They had lived there since she was 5, it was her mom’s dream home. It was the only place in the town she had good memories in.
Y/N’s mother brought Diana home with her after work. They were waiting in the kitchen for Spencer and Y/N when they arrived. Tonights guests included not just them but Y/N’s youngest brother Levi, his wife Lizzie and their 2 year-old Chloe.
“There’s my girl!” Her dad cheered, standing up and rushing to give her a real hug. “Did you get taller?”
“it’s the boots,” she laughed, holding onto him tightly.
“You look great! The FBI is treating you well,” her dad was always one to compliment her. He pulled back and looked at Spencer. More like glared at him.
“Nice to meet you Sir, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid,” he said, shockingly extending his hand to shake her father's.
The profiler in her knew he was breaking his comfort zone to appease her baby boomer, ex-cop, father.
Her dad always did this thing when he met new men where he squeezed their hands to see how much they could take. “Harrison Y/L/N Sr.” She watched Spencers hand shake as he squeezed right back.
“Strong shake.” Her father complimented him. “She must have warned you.”
“No, he just knows how to read people,” Y/N laughed.
“Well come sit down Doctor Spencer Reid,” he teased him. “Let me interrogate the profiler.”
“Here we go,” Y/N laughed, placing a hand on Spencer's back as she led him into the kitchen.
They sat down together, Spencers mom, Diana, just across from him at the table. They smiled and nodded at each other in a quiet little hello.
“I would ask you to tell me a bit about yourself, but Y/N has kept me all caught up with you over the years,” her dad said. “You went to CalTech at 13, somewhere in there you got a degree from MIT, she idolized you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she blushed.
“It’s very flattering, but if anything I’m now huge fan of her’s. In the last 3 weeks she has been the one to find the major break in 3 of our cases. She is amazing at what she does, you raised an incredible woman,” Spencer replied, praising her in a way that made her heart flutter.
“Go on then, tell us about these cases then,” her dad asked.
And with that they got lost in all things horrific. Spencer explained, verbatim, how each case went down and exactly what Y/N came up with to solve them. She answered little questions here and there but mostly it was Spencer showing off how much he loved his girlfriend.
Her mom passed out dinner plates in the middle of the talk, some how all of them were able to discuss cases and eat at the same time. Her mom made burgers and potato salad for dinner, just something simple for them all.
“Did you really offer to fuck a serial killer?” Her brother asked, disgusted.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I knew in his sick twisted mind he wouldn’t be able to refuse a woman willing to let him do what he wanted and as soon as the weapon was down, so was he.”
“I always told you she’d be able to kick your ass, Levi,” her dad said. “Ever since she was a kid I knew she had it in her to wrestle someone to the ground.”
“Yeah, Spence didn’t believe me that I’m combat trained.”
“No,” Spencer interjected, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t ever think you’d be able to take me down.”
“And did you?” Her mom asked.
Her face turned bright red. “Yeah, I showed one of my combat maneuvers on him, we were all horsing around and I showed them how to go from being pinned to the ground to being the one on top.”
“How?” Her brother’s wife asked.
“Yeah demonstrate!” Her mom innocently cheered them on not knowing she was mid sex with him when she showed him how to do it.
“Um okay, Lizzie come with me,” she said, saving Spencer the awkwardness of having to straddle her in the middle of her family home.
She laid down on the floor, “you basically have to just pin me down how ever you see fit.”
Lizzie, sat on her, holding her shoulders down with one forearm. Y/N, quickly flipped her onto her back, making sure to catch her head as she did so. Not wanting her to smack it off the hardwood floor.
“Like that,” Y/N stood up and helped Lizzie to her feet. “Made sure all the girls knew how to do that.” She lied.
“As you should!” Her dad cheered, “nice to know your team all has each others backs.”
“How do they all feel about you two?” Diana asked. She had been mostly quiet all night, just enjoying time outside of where she was used to.
“They love it, they’ve been placing bets about us,” Y/N laughed.
“Like what?” Her dad asked.
“If he would kiss me first, if we’d tell the team ever, they even had one about who is most likely to say I love you first, they’re insufferable,” Y/N ranted.
“So what team one?” Her brother teased, just trying the embarrass her.
“He kissed me first, he told the team that we were together after like 10 hours and he was the first to say I love you,” Y/N blushed.
“Does she still have the I love you problem?” Her mom asked innocently but received a death glare from Y/N.
“Uh no, she says it to me too.” Spencer noticed the awkwardness.
“Any plans for baby number two?” Y/N asked Levi, changing the subject faster than ever.
She’d be lying if she said she was listening to the answer, her ears were ringing and all she cold focus on was Spencer’s hand on her back. Her mom was about to pass out cake when she excused herself to the bathroom, and ended up in her old bedroom.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing the words her mother said over and over in her mind. “Does she still have the I love you problem?”
She rubbed her hands over her eyes and just breathed. She didn’t want him to know about that yet.
Spencer knocked on her door, opening it softly and peaking his head in. “Do you want company?”
She nodded.
He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, running his hands along her thighs. “Are you okay?”
“I told you about Christopher?” She said softly.
“yes.”
“In order to get me to do what he did, he would always say I had to because he loved me,” she explained. A tear dripped down her cheek and landed on his hand. “And so for 7 years after I never told anyone I knew that I loved them.”
“That’s okay, you went through trauma. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he soothed her.
“I want to though because, before you, I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand love, I thought it was weird and forceful and something dependent on coercion,” her voice was so tiny, she didn’t want anyone else hearing her. “Loving you is light and fluffy and special and safe, I didn’t want you to think just now that I said it this weekend to get it over with or something because I truly do love you.
He pulled her into a kiss, “I love you, more.”
She laughed, “we’ll see about that.”
Y/N and Diana were doing the dishes as her mom packed the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Debbie was just about to ask who wanted coffee when Y/N’s phone started to ring.
She sighed, drying her hands on a dishtowel before answering the phone. “SSA Y/N Y/L/N.”
“There’s been an explosion at a mall in Los Angeles and reports of 4 more planned, how fast can you and Reid get to LA?” Hotch asked.
“Um, we’re about 45 minutes from the airport.”
“We’re 4 hours out, we want you and Reid there ASAP. Is there any way we could send a helicopter to get you?”
“Yes, there’s a soccer field across the street from my parent's house, Garcia knows the address she can direct them where to go, we’ll be ready.”
“Debrief has already been sent to your phones, I need you and Reid to go to the LA field office and start communication with Garcia on victimology.”
“Got it.” She said as she hung up. “Spence we have to go!”
“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.
“We have an emergency in LA, they need us there immediately. There’s a helicopter coming to get us,” Y/N explained as she walked around the room towards her go-bag.
She unzipped it, unfolding her bullet-proof vest and putting it on. She adjusted her gun and made sure she had everything she needed. Spencer did the same at the table beside her.
“You are a badass,” her dad complimented her, filming her getting her gear on. “This is my daughter! FBI superhero! Kickass tonight kid!” He had an affinity for embarrassing her, but an even bigger obsession with showing her off.
He was like that with all of his children, first with her brother Harrison in the army, then with her other brother Levi and his swat training. Now his daughter was catching serial killers like it was nothing.
“Okay, we gotta go, the helicopter will be landing in that field in 3 minutes. Dad are you okay to take the car back to the dealership if this takes a while? We will be back for our suitcases after the case, I love you guys.” She said. handing her father the car keys and moving to put her shoes on.
“Got everything?” Spencer asked.
“Yep,” she smiled.
They walked out the door and across the street. Most of the neighbourhood watched a helicopter land in the soccer field as the sun was setting. They ducked as they ran getting in the chopper and strapping in.
“Agent Valdez, Nevada PD!” the officer in the pilot seat introduced herself. “We have just over an hour till we land, use the headsets to communicate with me if you need to!”
And they were off. She looked down to see her family waving up at them from their houses as the neighbours she grew up around took photos and videos of them leaving.
“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.
Y/N took out her phone and read over the debrief, “tonight at The Grove in Los Angeles, a small bomb went off killing 6 people and injuring 31.”
“Where did it go off?” Reid asked.
“Inside a small dress store that has been renting the space for the last 7 years,” Y/N confirmed. “I’m sure Garcia is looking into everyone who was injured or killed as well as the current and former employees.”
“It says here that the person who called 911 before the bomb went off warned of 3 bombs to come. Saying; ‘4 bombs in total the first in clear, the next is where her checks would clear.’” Reid read from the phone.
“So we need to find a connection between the dress store and a bank in the area,” Y/N said. “We need to go over that call more, have Garcia look into every aspect of the sound.”
“Where did Hotch say he wants us?” Reid asked.
“At the LA field office, he wants us working behind the scenes in correspondence with Garcia.”
Spencer sighed, “well, our weekend was fun while it lasted.
9:42pm PST
By the time the rest of the team landed and Hotch and JJ arrived at the field office, another 2 bombs had gone off at a Liberty Bank downtown LA.
“Garcia, do we have any connection from the dress shop to the bank yet?” Hotch asked.
“Nothing Sir, I have dug and dug and there isn’t a single person with a connection to both the bank and the dress shop within the last few months, I'm widening back 2-5 years but still nothing,” Garcia panicked over the phone.
“Is there any possibility our unsub is female? This to me feels like a scorned lover, maybe her husband is paying someone under the table who is cashing checks at that exact ATM that exploded and then went and bought a dress,” Y/N suggests.
“Garcia run with that as far as you can and call us back,” Hotch ordered.
“On it!” She cheered before hanging up.
Spencer looked around at all the info he and Y/N brainstormed while waiting for the team. “a female unsub would make the most sense.”
“Did we get any more clues for where the next bomb will be?” JJ asked.
Agent Cunningham from the LA field office shook his head, “nothing at the scene or over 911, we’re on the lookout for any suspicious calls and tips currently.”
“If you were cheating on your wife, after going to the bank and the dress shop where does she go with you next?” Y/N asked Hotch.
“Uh,” he shook his head, clearly faithful to his wife. “Dinner and a hotel?”
“So those are possibly the next two targets,” Y/N said, “but finding out what restaurant and hotel in the entirety of LA is like finding a needle in a needle stack.”
“I hate to say it,” JJ sighed, “but we might need one more explosion before we get a breakthrough.”
“All we can do is hope for minimal damage,” Y/N shot a soft smile over to her, “till then, what kind of woman in the area could make the type of bombs that are being used?”
“Almost anyone,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “I was just looking at the debris and shrapnel, it’s a fairly simple bomb that anyone with basic knowledge or internet access could make.”
Hotch called Garcia once more. “Can you start a search for women 35-55 who are married, ask the NSA if we can search through any women in the LA area googling how to make bombs in the last month.”
“Of course, I’ve also been looking at the past transactions of the specific ATMs that were targeted, 13 of the people depositing cash and cheques there, recently bought dresses from the store at The Grove.”
“Any of them look like they are partaking in an affair?” Y/N asked.
“2 of them are lesbian women, 3 are drag queens and the other 8 are girls in high school depositing birthday money,” Garcia explained.
“Well thanks for looking, hopefully, the NSA has some hits for us,” Hotch said as he hung up. “I guess we wait.”
11:56pm
“We’ve got reports of an explosion in an all-female dorm at UCLA,” one of the LA agents said as he burst through the door.
“Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi,” Hotch said, “go to the scene and find out everything.”
Y/N called Garcia, “as soon as we know what room the explosion was in I need you to go back 10 years of women who lived in that dorm room and their connections to older men. Sugar daddies, teachers, anyone.”
“The 911 call shortly after the bomb say it was heard on the first floor, possibly room 119 as that's where the blast was heard. Luckily the girl who was supposed to be in that room was with her friend down the hall so we currently have no casualties here,” Garcia explained.
“Thank god,” JJ exclaimed, placing her hand over her eyes.
“In the last 10 years, 6 different women have all had that room,” Garcia said as she narrowed down her search. “Okay, here we go this is the juicy stuff!”
“What is it?” Hotch asked.
“From 2000 to 2002 Maggie Burton was working on a science degree at UCLA. She was working part-time, both years, as the main Chemistry professor's teaching assistant, she was depositing money from him bi-weekly to Liberty Bank.”
“Okay, who was the professor?” Spencer asked.
“Michael Thompson, 56, but that would be too simple now wouldn’t it?” Penelope teased. “Thompson is gay and has been in a domestic partnership since 1998, his Partner Adam Pearson, however, is bisexual according to the sugar daddy website he’s on,” she explained further. “Whether Maggie knows it or not, she had been getting paid to be Thompson's TA, as well as his boyfriend sugar baby.”
“So our unsub is Michael Thompson?” Hotch confirmed.
“By the looks of it, yes. Maggie stopped being a TA when she graduated and now she works with a cosmetics developer downtown. Every week she deposits 500 cash to the ATM, which is the exact amount of cash Adam has been withdrawing for the last 7 years,” she kept explaining, they could hear her keyboard clicking as she kept digging. “Look’s like Adam is filing to remove the domestic partnership and he bought a ring last week.”
“There’s the trigger,” Spencer confirmed. “Do we have a home and work address as well as where the next bomb would be?”
“Adam checked into a Hilton hotel downtown, suite 613 which he has been booking once a month for the last 7 years,” Garcia confirmed. “Sending the locations now.”
“I need a bomb squad sent to the Hilton hotel, evacuations should be done floor by floor saving floor 6 for last, I need agents on floor 6 to evacuate all rooms, except for 613, quietly without making a scene.”
“Sir, suit 612 was booked only for tonight by Michael Thompson, using cash,” Garcia cut him off.
“All rooms but 612 and 613 are to be evacuated, I need a direct line on the scene to room 612 when we arrive,” Hotch ordered as they all hurried towards the elevator.
On the scene, Reid, Y/L/N and JJ were sent up with the bomb squad to floor 6. Red lights in the stairwell were flashing to alert that there was an evacuation taking place, but the building was silent.
There were 14 rooms on floor 6, 4 of them being rented that night. Rooms 601 and 608 were the only two they had to focus on to evacuate.
JJ quietly knocked on room 601, “Hi sir,” she whispered. “My name is Jennifer, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your necessities and any other guests in the room, an officer will escort you down the stairs. In the parking lot across the street, there are people issuing refunds and information about relocations for the night.”
The man nodded, he quickly grabbed his things and followed an officer down the hall.
Y/N knocked on 608 next, a young woman answered. “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m with the FBI. We need to quietly evacuate this floor-“
“I have 2 kids with me,” she whispered.
“Okay, are they awake?” JJ asked.
“My daughter, she’s 2, she’s out cold. My son is watching TV, oh my god my husband isn’t here,” she quietly panicked.
“Ma’am it’s fine, we have officers here to assist you down the stairs and across the street, there are relocation preparations being made. If you don’t mind, I can help you carry your daughter down the stairs?” Spencer said softly.
“Yes, absolutely.” She said, running into the room to gather all her things.
Spencer lifted the little girl up softly, not waking her at all in the process. He held her against his chest softly while the mother grabbed their necessities and her 6-year-old son before followed Spencer down the stairs.
JJ and Y/N stood in the stairwell, Y/N picked up her radio and called down to Hotch. “All civilians on the 6th floor have been evacuated.”
“Any movement in 612?”
“Yes sir,” one of the bomb squad members said. “With our tech, we can see 2 bodies in 613 and 1 in 612, all alive.”
“Any idea how many bombs were talking about?” Hotch asked.
“Not yet, we need a clear look inside the room. Snipers on the building across the street say the blinds are closed,” he explained.
“Hotch, have you gotten in contact with him at all?” JJ asked.
“No, he won't pick up,” hotch confirmed.
“Would you like one of us to knock?” Y/N asked.
“Not yet, I want you both to come down. If we’re knocking on his door we need to have a full plan in place,” Hotch ordered.
“Over,” Y/N said. Following JJ back down the 6 flights of stairs.
Down at the base of operations, Spencer was still holding onto the 2-year-old as the mother called her husband. He shushed her and held her close with a blanket over her back as she slept.
“Hotch,” JJ got his attention. “I noticed each room has vents on the connected walls, is there any way to get into 611 and snake in a camera to see what we’re dealing with?”
“That was my next suggestion,” a SWAT office said as he shook her hand. “We’re prepping the equipment now.”
“Can we also spray a sleeping agent through the vents? If we knock out the unsub we can just drag him out and see what’s going on?” Y/N suggested.
“Yeah that would work,” the SWAT officer said, “we have a sleeping agent in a compressed gas form that we can spray through the vents.”
“Okay, just in 612,” Hotch confirmed. Y/N I want you and Morgan up there to assist in making sure Maggie and Adam are evacuated safely while the bomb squad looks at what we have going on.”
“On it,” she and Morgan said at the same time.
One of the SWAT officers pulled them aside, handing them protective gear for the gas that will erupt into the hallway. She waved to Spencer in the lot as she headed across the street with the SWAT team. They ran up the stairs, it was exhausting but Y/N pushed through, up the six flights. They quietly unlocked room 611 and filled the room with officers.
First, they snaked a small camera through the vent, the image showing on the screen right away, “you seeing this Hotch?” Morgan asked over the radio.
“Crystal.”
“It’s a wall of C4,” one of the Bomb Squad officers quietly confirmed. “Fairly simple to dismantle, it looks like it’s a manual switch. Wait till he crosses the room, and then spray the gas. We need officers to be in the room as it’s sprayed. He needs to hit the floor nowhere close to the detonator.”
Morgan quietly opened the door and assembled the team in the hall, making movements with his hands as he instructed the men. The door kicker was in place, the officers were ready to file in.
The swat agent deployed the gas, they watched on the monitor as the unsub turned to look at the hissing sound, inspecting it before hitting the ground.
“NOW!” Morgan yelled. The door was knocked in and the unsub was in handcuffs.
Y/N ran to 613, knocking on the door as hard as she could. “FBI OPEN UP!” She yelled.
A half-naked man opened the door, “what?” He yelled.
“We need to evacuate the building right now, cover-up and follow me.” She ordered as the two victims covered themselves and followed her down the stairs.
Halfway down, she got a call over the radio. “Bomb has been defused, all clear on floor 6.”
“Bomb?” The man questioned.
“Yes sir,” Y/N confirmed. “your partner, and your science teacher, Michael Thompson, has been bombing places around the city that you two have been to, and was planning to blow you up tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Maggie asked.
“He’s under arrest, you’ll have your chance to ask him questions in court,” Y/N confirmed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
She held the door for them and watched as they were whisked away by EMTs. She waited for another set for the unsub before turning around and running all the way back up the 6 flights to Morgan.
Morgan was standing over the cuffed, unconscious, unsub in the hallway. “Good job pretty girl!” Morgan high-fived her.
“Thanks,” she smiled, “let's get this bastard down into the ambulance. The elevators should go back up in a minute.”
“What? No more stairs?” Morgan teased.
“I might not be able to feel my legs tomorrow, I’ve been up and down those too many times tonight!” She smacked him.
“Sure that’s why,” he laughed as they waited for the elevator.
Spencer and Y/N packed up that night and took a short trip back to Los Vegas. By the time they arrived back on her parent's doorstep it was 5:32 am. 12 hours since they were last there.
She sighed at the front door and called her parent's home phone. “Hello?” Her father's sleep-ridden voice answered.
“Hey dad, it’s Y/N can you come open the front door for me? Please.” She asked nicely.
“Yep.” He hung up.
She watched the hall light come on from the front door. Waiting for him to slowly make his way down the stairs to the front hallway. He unlocked the door and welcomed them in.
“Your mom cleaned off your bed in case this happened,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“5:30, go back up to bed, we’ll lock back up, thank you,” she hugged him and sent him on his way.
She sighed and sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She tugged her boots off and left them in the hallway. Spencer picked them up and moved them to be in order with the rest of the shoes. He locked her parent's front door and turned off the entryway light.
“You need water or anything before bed?” Y/N asked.
“No, come on,” he took her hand and walked with up the stairs to her bedroom.
She closed the door behind him, peeling out of her clothes and climbing into bed first. She got under the covers and moved the pillows around to make sure they were how she liked them.
Spencer crawled in beside her, wearing just his socks and underwear. He laid flat on his back while she cuddled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath as he settled into relaxation finally.
“I love you,” she reminded him.
“I love you, more.”
299 notes · View notes
homoose · 3 years
Text
Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part VII
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Summary: Spencer’s unresolved trauma catches up with him. Reader gets her heart broken.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: angst, I’m so sorry guys
Warnings/Includes: brief mention of violence and details of a case; brief mention of prison, past trauma; a lil self-loathing and self-sabotaging
Word count: 3.8k
a/n: I knew that this was where this story was going from the very beginning. The dialogue is one of the first parts I had written. It still hurts. Relevant to the story: I operate with the understanding that the Jeid arc does not exist, which also means that Spencer never went to therapy in season 15. Also, huge thanks to @reidscanehand​ for beta-ing and just generally being my hype person!!!!
Song Recs: Shrike by Hozier; Better As a Memory by Kenny Chesney (don’t come for me if Spencer made playlists this would ABSOLUTELY be on there)
Series Masterlist
———
Spencer made his way to Emily’s office, ignoring the team’s eyes on him— varying degrees of understanding, concern, and uncertainty plain on their faces. As he reached the threshold, he paused for a second before moving into her line of sight. When he moved into the doorway, she looked up and waved him in. He closed the door behind him.
She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Spencer hesitated for only a split second, but it was long enough for her to notice. He lowered himself into the chair and met her eyes.
She folded her hands on top of the desk. “How are you feeling?”
He drummed his fingers across his kneecaps. “I’m fine.”
It was a lie, and they both knew it. She bit back a sigh and flipped open the folder in front of her. “I’m finished with the official report. I wanted to go over it with you before I submit it to the director.” She looked at him briefly before reading out the report. “On January 9th, our team pursued a lead at the residence of suspect Andrew Hurley. We divided into teams to cover the two entrances to the home, as well as the barn behind the house.”
Spencer fidgeted slightly in his chair and rubbed the tips of his fingers together. Emily continued, “During the raid, Supervisory Special Agent Spencer Reid became separated from the team and was ambushed and disarmed by the suspect in the barn.” She paused but didn’t look at him. “The team was unaware of the altercation for some time, during which Dr. Reid employed various approved restraint methods and was ultimately forced to utilize self-defense measures to preserve his own life. Consequently, Mr. Hurley sustained serious injuries.”
She did look at him then, a steady and unrelenting gaze that had him shrinking inside himself. “However, I have determined that Dr. Reid’s actions were justified in order to maintain his own safety.” She returned her eyes to the report. “Mr. Hurley was detained and treated for his injuries at Sebastian River Medical Center, and he is expected to make a full recovery. Based on the cognitive interviews and physical evidence, a grand jury hearing is scheduled for January 25th.” She brought her hands to rest on top of the report.
“I’ll sign off on it and deliver it to the director by the end of business today.” She let out the sigh she’d been holding back. “Reid.”
He pressed his mouth into a thin line, torn between shame and vindication. “Emily.”
“What happened in that barn was unacceptable. And I need you to recognize that.” Her eyes were back on him, a leader’s gaze boring into a weak link. “You went against a direct order. You put your life in danger unnecessarily, and in the process you endangered this entire team. Furthermore, you could have cost us the ability to close this case, to put Hurley away and bring justice to his victims.”
“It won’t happen again,” he assured her.
“No, it won’t.” Her tone told him that if it did, he’d have bigger problems than a meeting in her office. “My recommendation to the director is that you transition to your next mandatory leave cycle early.”
“I can handle—”
“It’s not a request. You’re on sabbatical starting tomorrow. That’s an order, and one you’d do well to follow.” She closed the file in front of her. “We’ll see you back in the bullpen on March 7th.”
“I don’t need more time off, Emily,” Spencer snapped.
He could see her grind her teeth together at his tone, but he couldn’t seem to care enough to feel contrite. She took a deep breath in through her nose, leveling him with a pointed look. “If Simmons hadn’t broken it up, you’d have killed Hurley on the floor of that barn.”
His mind snapped back to the lifeless eyes of Hurley’s victims— eight year old boys in shallow graves. Boys who died afraid, and in pain, and crying out for their mothers. His thoughts raced to the feel of Hurley’s throat under his arm, the crack of the zygomatic under his fist. Emily was right of course. If Matt hadn’t found them in the barn and dragged him up and off of Hurley’s nearly lifeless body, Spencer would have killed him without compunction.
“Reid.” The stern edge was gone from her voice. Spencer refocused his eyes on her face, now showcasing an underlying concern that made his stomach turn. “I’m not recommending another cycle of mandatory counseling at this time, although I reserve the right to require it moving forward. But… I’m asking you to take care of yourself. You’ve been through a lot in the last two years. More than a lot.”
“I said I’m fine,” he insisted, but there was less fire behind it this time.
“And I’m not saying you aren’t,” she countered. “But I am saying that the person in that barn… that wasn’t you. That was not the Reid that I know.” Emily tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “The Reid I know uses his intellect and empathy to see angles that the rest of us miss. He depends on the strength of his mind and his unwavering compassion to diffuse conflicts without violence. He invites his friends to foreign film showings and puppet theater.”
When he didn’t budge, she let out a long breath. “I want you to take the next fifty days to find that Reid and bring him back to us.”
...
Y/N dropped into her desk chair with a huff. They’d been back from winter break for two weeks, and she already needed another vacation. But tomorrow was Friday, and then they had a long weekend. She could make it through one more day.
She closed her eyes for a long moment, tired in the way that only kindergarten teachers fresh off a long break can be. She heard the click of Anita’s shoes coming before she even entered the room, and Y/N couldn’t stop the twitch of her lips.
“Dude. How is it only Thursday?” Anita flopped down into the plush Calm Corner chair.
“This has been the longest week of my life,” Y/N agreed. “My kids were off the chain.”
“There is so much drama in middle school right now,” Anita groaned. “I can’t keep up with all the tea, and you know how I love to stay up to date on the freshest brews.” She shot Y/N a look. “Speaking of, where’s the good doctor?”
“I think they’ve had a lot going on at work,” Y/N surmised. “I haven’t seen Mrs. Jareau in over a month.”
“Well, I’m getting antsy,” Anita complained. “Thought for sure you’d be going steady by now.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but feel a little impatient herself. If she’d known it would be this long before she’d see him again, she might have made a move when he’d volunteered. Then again, probably not. She sighed.
Her phone chimed with an email message, and she automatically swiped the screen open to read it.
Spencer Reid Re:
Are you free today? If you are, I’ll be at Soho.
...
Spencer sat at the table in the corner of the coffee shop. He sipped absentmindedly at his tea, almost gone cold. He hadn’t waited for a reply before leaving Quantico. He drove straight to the city, figuring he’d wait at Soho until he felt some semblance of calm returning to his body.
He didn’t know why he’d emailed Y/N, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted her to show up. Usually he’d talk to Penelope or maybe JJ. But he’d wanted to get as far from the BAU as possible, and he didn’t want to drag Penelope away from the colorful, safe corner of the world she’d created for herself. He didn’t want to fill it with all the tragedy she’d tried so hard to leave behind.
If Y/N did show, he was certain he could keep the conversation vague, focus on her and the classroom, ask her about her holidays. She wasn’t a profiler, didn’t know his tells well enough. She’d be none the wiser, and he’d have her warmth and presence to focus his energy on, if only for a few hours.
Every time the bell chimed, his eyes flew to the door, searching for her. He knew it was ridiculous. He’d only known her for one hundred and eleven days. Pragmatically, he knew she shouldn’t be the one he wanted to talk to. Realistically, he wasn’t planning to burden her with all of the mess of the past week, the past year, his entire life.
But in the six hundred and forty seven minutes he’d spent with her since September, he’d felt more like himself than he ever had. He was never afraid to be himself with her— the silly story voices, the ridiculous costume, the magic trick, the vulnerability about his mom. All of these pieces of himself were things he usually waited years to show people. It had taken her a matter of weeks to draw them out.
He couldn’t help but believe that if he wanted to, he could tell her everything. She’d know exactly what to say. She’d listen for as long as he could keep talking. She’d cover his shaking hands and wrap him up in the warmth of her spirit. She’d give of herself to guide him back to the person he used to be. She’d be more than willing to use her radiance to illuminate the dark so that he might have a little light again.
The bell sounded, and his eyes focused, and there she was. She was wrapped up in a puffed jacket, a bright blue scarf tied around her neck. Her nose was adorably red from the cold, and she rubbed her hands together as the door closed behind her. Her eyes found him immediately. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth, and she gave him an enthusiastic wave. And he knew that he was right about all of it.
She approached the table, unwinding her scarf. “Hi!”
“Hi.”
Her eyes flickered over his face, and then settled on his mostly empty mug. “I’ll get you a refill, and then we’ll catch up?”
He nodded, and she headed to the counter. There had been a part of him that thought she wouldn’t come, but of course she did. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, she liked talking to him. Even among his closest friends, he was often made to feel self-conscious about his tendency to ramble, but Y/N had literally asked him to. She sought him out, asked him questions, listened intently, and remembered things he’d told her. She was kind and thoughtful and genuine. Of course she came when he called.
She returned with two mugs, carefully setting them down on the tiny table. She unzipped and removed her jacket, hanging it on the back of her chair and revealing a crew neck sweater covered in tiny astronauts and rocket ships. When she sat across from him, her hands wrapped around the mug and her eyes met his.
“Hi.”
He couldn’t stop his lips from twitching, despite the events of the day. “You said that already.”
She laughed, and he felt the weight begin to lift. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen you in forever, so— I’m just making up for lost time.”
“Sixty one days.”
“Hmm?”
“It’s been sixty one days, eighty eight minutes, and approximately,” he looked at his watch, “fourteen seconds since we saw each other last.”
She laughed again, and his mouth completed its curve. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I like that you’ve been counting.” She let her chin come to rest in her hand, eyes studying his face. “How are you?”
He wanted to lie, but she was looking at him so earnestly that he mumbled out, “I’m managing.”
She mirrored the way he’d looked at her across this same table nearly three months ago. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” That was a lie, too. But asking her to meet him was enough of a burden.
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind at any point, let me know.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Until then, I can just regale you with all the kindergarten stories you’ve missed while you were out saving lives.”
And regale him she did. For almost an hour, he listened to her tales of love (budding crushes were taking over recess time), loss (the class pet— a stuffed zebra— had accidentally taken a swim in the Atlantic on a vacation to Florida), and lessons learned…
“So, in case there was ever any doubt, we are now painfully aware that we shouldn’t attempt to flush our underwear.” Y/N let out an exasperated laugh.
She’d been talking to him for fifty three minutes, and his heart already felt one thousand times lighter. “I’m really glad I wasn’t there for that one.”
“I really wish that was the only poop story I had.” She shook her head. “There are a lot of things they don’t tell you in grad school. I think there’d be a global teacher shortage if they warned you about the amount of bodily fluid management involved in teaching kindergarten.”
She toyed with the edge of her empty mug. He watched the movement of her fingers.
“Do you—”
“Do you—”
She laughed and gestured for him to speak first.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
They ended up in Mitchell Park. The trees were bare and the grass was brown, but he was with her, and so it was beautiful.
They’d been walking in comfortable silence, when she asked, “Did you change your mind? About talking about it.”
Spencer put his hands into his pockets. “It’s, um— it’s kind of a lot.”
She shrugged. “I’ve got time.”
“I don’t mean— I mean, it would take some time to get through it all. But it’s also— it’s a lot.”
“We don’t have to.” He could feel her eyes on him. “Do you talk to— someone about it?”
“I talked with my unit chief today,” he answered.
“Okay. But— I mean, have you ever— talked to someone. Like, a professional.”
Spencer bristled slightly. Although he knew she wasn’t passing judgement, her question exposed the reality that she thought he could use it. “I’ve had some mandated counseling over the years.”
“Obviously it’s your choice whether you talk to someone or not,” she mused. “I just— I know that I’ve benefited a lot from seeing my therapist.”
Spencer was unsure of what to do with that information. Here she was, confessing that she went to therapy— sweet, lovely Y/N. In comparison, he wasn’t sure if even daily meetings with a counselor would be enough to tame the darkness that had grown and festered inside him over the years. That sometimes threatened to swallow him whole.
For a long while, there was only the crunch of the frozen ground beneath their feet. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an uncertainty about them that felt uncharacteristically heavy. He was hyper aware of her presence, and so he felt her pace slowing down before she came to a complete stop. He walked a few more paces before it became clear that she wasn’t planning to catch up.
He turned and saw that she’d taken a seat on one of the park benches. He carefully made his way to the bench, sitting beside her quietly. She didn’t look at him, but instead studied her fingernails intently. She cracked her knuckles once, twice, and then turned her body slightly toward him on the bench.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she hedged carefully. “I didn’t mean to tell you what to do, or like, imply that there’s anything wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. I just—”
“It’s fine,” Spencer assured her. The way she looked at him then— like he was something fragile, delicate— made his eyes burn. He kept his voice even. “I know what you meant.”
She smiled, eyes crinkling and filled with something that felt familiar and far away all at once. “Good. I can’t have you out here thinking you’re anything less than wonderful.”
He couldn’t stop looking at her, attempting to solve the impossible cypher behind her irises. As he failed to decode it, his inability to read her blinded him to what came next. He missed the dilation of her pupils, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the increase of the beats in her carotid. So when she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, he was momentarily paralyzed.
Her lips were so soft against his slightly chapped ones, pressing with a perfectly gentle pressure. She brought her hand up to cradle his cheek, the pads of her fingers just barely ghosting the curls falling around his ear. She sighed into his mouth and pressed a little closer. He took one peaceful moment to bask in the realization of a desire he’d had for almost four months.
And then she swiped the very tentative tip of her tongue against the seam of his mouth, and his hands involuntarily wound into her hair, dragging her closer. He opened his mouth against hers to swallow her sweet little gasp. His grip on her hair tightened, and she let out the tiniest mewl, and like a switch had flipped— suddenly his mind was full of the darkness she’d spent the evening chasing away.
Y/N beneath him in the dark. Maeve in a pool of blood. His hands around Cat’s neck. His mother’s slap against his cheek. Max walking away from him. His fingers pressing the plunger on a dirty syringe. The slam of the door behind his father. Y/N calling out his name. A knife at his throat under a canopy of bones. Innumerable sets of lifeless eyes staring up at him. His life being snuffed out on the dirt floor of a shed. The clanging of metal bars and fingers ghosting over old bruises. Y/N looking at him with warm, loving eyes. The violent crack of bone underneath his fists. Y/N’s face, lovely and perfect— and then twisted in pain.
He broke away from her, releasing his hold on her hair and pushing her back into the bench. He took a second to gather himself before he dared to look at her. Her hair was tousled from his rough grip; her eyes were half-lidded and focused on him; her lips were red and kiss-bruised and turned up in a small, sweet smile.
And all at once he knew he had to hurt her, and it had to be now. Because what Cat had said about him was true. He might have escaped his mother’s illness, but he hadn’t been able to outrun the violence— and unlike her, he didn’t have the excuse of being sick. He had hurt people, and he had enjoyed it. He would have killed Hurley, and he would have slept soundly. He was no better than the men his team hunted.
Every time he thought he’d moved past it, that wickedness lurking just under the surface would grab him by the throat, choking everything else out. Emily’s directive rang in his ears. Find that Reid and bring him back to us. He knew who she was talking about. The problem was, he wasn’t sure that person still existed.
He was going to hurt Y/N eventually. Better to do it now, before things got too far.
“You’re Michael’s teacher,” he said, as evenly as possible.
Her smile faltered, and she pressed her lips together. He could still feel the phantom press of them against his own, and he was sure he’d never forget it. She cleared her throat. “You’re right, you’re totally right. I, um— I won’t be in a few months, and maybe then—”
“You don’t even know me,” he interrupted.
Now there was confusion in her eyes. That much he could read. She huffed out a small laugh. “I— I don’t think that’s entirely true.”
He looked directly at her. “Why? Because you read my bio on a university website? Because we got tea a couple times?” His voice sounded harsh, patronizing, and he hated it.
Her confusion shifted into shock, and he ignored the tug on his heart. “Are you serious?” she questioned, genuinely searching for a sign that he was joking.
“Dead serious.” He shrugged, and it felt like his bones were breaking. “You don’t really know anything about me, Y/N. If you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“Where— where is this coming from?” Her voice was small, close to breaking. He lined up the last nail on the lid of the coffin.
“Maybe I gave you the wrong impression. I’ve appreciated talking to you. Volunteering in your classroom was entertaining. But I don’t— I don’t see you that way.” It was a lie, and if he didn’t have such a practiced poker face, she might have seen through it. As it was, his poker face had helped get him banned from every casino in Vegas, so he watched her as he hammered the final nail. “You’re just Michael’s kindergarten teacher.”
“Oh.” The hurt flashed across her features— the furrow of her brow, the tightening of her mouth, the storm clouds in her eyes. “Well, I— I really read this wrong, huh?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“Yeah.” He put his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her, the desire to comfort her a strange juxtaposition to the pain he was intentionally inflicting on her. “I guess so.”
She opened and closed her mouth twice before taking a deep breath and nearly whispering, “Okay. Well. I’m— I’m gonna go.”
She brushed some imaginary dust from her pants and then stood. She turned to him, and he waited for her to explode— to scream and curse at him. But it didn’t come. She didn’t look at him at all. “Um— yeah. I’m gonna go.”
He didn’t say anything, and he knew she’d take his silence as indifference. But he had to keep his mouth shut, because if he didn’t, he’d beg her to stay. He’d tell her every single random piece of information he had stored in his brain. He’d tell her that he loved her from the moment he watched her help a child pick a solution from a pencil box. He’d tell her that he only ever dreamt of two things these days— her or the lives he didn’t save. He’d tell her every single one of his deepest, darkest secrets. He’d tell her that sometimes he was so afraid of himself that he could barely breathe. And if he told her all of that, she’d walk away anyway.
So instead, he watched her turn and start back up the path, hugging her arms around herself and swiping her cheek against her scarf.
When she disappeared over the slope of the path, he scrubbed his hands over his own damp face and let himself break.
———
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