#jennifer jereau x spencer reid

[spencerreidswhore187]

False Confidence

Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.

Word Count: 2.8k

T/W: Mentions of murder and death

A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈

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SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.

He did.  

Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 

NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 

You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 

He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 

Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 

Your phone vibrated. 

SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”

Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 

SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 

You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 

“Hold the door!” 

Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 

The person entered beside you. 

If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 

Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.

“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.

“L/N,” He replied. 

That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 

When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 

You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 

It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  

You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.

“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 

Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 

“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 

Hotch nodded. 

It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 

Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 

“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 

“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 

Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 

“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”

“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 

“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 

“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 

“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”

“According to the coroners.” 

“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”

“No,” Hotch replied. 

“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 

Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.

“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 

Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 

“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”

Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 

Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”

He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 

She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 

Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.

“L/N, you need to stay here.”

You froze, confused. 

He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 

With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 

You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 

When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 

You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 

“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”

“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 

Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 

“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 

That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 

You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 

“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 

“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

“God, you are so infuriating.”

“I hate you,” he retorted. 

You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 

You grinned, “Lie.” 

Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 

Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 

You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 

The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 

The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 

The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 

You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.

He replied almost immediately. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.

NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 

SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 

NapoleonOfCrime: And?

SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 

NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.

SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 

You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 

NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.

SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?

Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.

NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 

SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 

NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 

It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 

It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 

NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 

He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 

SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 

You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 

NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 

I fell hard. 

You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 

 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 

You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 

“Spence,” you shouted.

You were both alone in the room. 

Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 

“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.

“No one,” he said.

Lie.

“A girl?”

“No.” 

Lie.

Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 

Why did it make you smile? 

You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 

“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 

He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 

Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 

You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.

“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 

You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.

Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.

“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 

“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 

“We need to call Hotch.” 

Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.

Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 

The team was on their way back from Quantico.

You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 

You both stared forward, at the road. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 

Spencer eventually broke the silence. 

“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 

Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 

Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 

“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”

He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 

You dropped Spencer’s hand. 

“Sh-she called you what?” 

Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 

Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”

“Y/N?”

“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”

“It can’t be.” 

Spencer held his face in his hands. 

“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”

You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 

“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”

True.

“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 

He cradled your cheek with one hand. 

“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 

“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 

Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia #light angst #enemies to lovers

[talaok]

I saw you asked for spencer ideas so i was thinking… what about something about the team finding out reader(spencer’s wife) is pregnant?

Loooove your work btw

YES. love this idea so much

"Emily, you in?" Derek asked with a grin as he turned to her.

"Definitely" she sighed, getting up from her desk "I really need a drink after today"

"JJ?"

She glanced at the watch on her wrist "Just for a drink, Will's waiting for me at home"

"alright the-"

"wait!" Peneole rushed through the doors "I'm here!" she seemed awfully out of breath for someone who'd taken the elevator "Don't leave without me" 

Derek chuckled "Wouldn't dream of it baby girl" he shook his head, "I was just getting the crew together, there's only one member missing..." he said, cocking his eyebrows at Spencer, who raised his head.

"I'm sorry I can't today"

"oh c'mon pretty boy, you never can"

"seriously Spence, you should come" JJ chirped in.

Spencer looked between them and smiled a bit, he knew they were right, he always said no, but today he actually had a reason, and not just the same old "I wanna get home to y/n because I've missed her the whole day", no, today she was actually meeting him here, even though he had tried to convince her to let him pick her up after work, she had insisted this made much more sense since the restaurant was closer to his work, and as always, he had agreed with her.

"I really can't today, I'll come next time"

"you said that last time" Emily playfully pointed out

"well I mean it this time"

"I'm sure y/n will understand if you come home late just this once" 

He snorted, it wasn't her that wanted him to come home, it was him, leaving the house in the morning had become more and more painful from the moment they started living together, and now.. well now it felt almost impossible, the moment he closed the door behind him he would now always find himself wondering when he'll get to come back.

Penelope elbowed Derek as she shoot him a look

"Hey, wha-"

"if he wants to go home to his lovely lady you should let him," she told him, and turned to him now "Don't listen to them Spencer, you're incredibly precious"

He smiled, a faint blush tainting his cheeks "thank you,"

"alright" Derek gave up, "but you're gonna have to let me buy you a drink at one point" 

"I will" he promised, getting up and starting towards the elevator with the others.

He couldn't wait to get to the parking lot and finally see her, and as the elevator's doors opened, he wondered if she'd put on the dress he'd gifted her just the other week.

"oh, hello" He heard Derek say, he sounded...confused,

Spencer frowned before he heard another voice respond.

"hi" 

not just any voice,

his eyes shot up

"Hi baby" she smiled at him, 

"Hi Y/n!" Penelope squeaked, immidately going in for a hug.

"sorry to intrude like this"

"no, not at all" Emily reassured her with a smile

"we were just talking about you" JJ joined

y/n laughed softly "Were you?" she asked "I'm kind of scared now"

"oh don't worry, only good things" She promised

Spencer smiled as she walked to him and kissed his cheek

"Hi" He said

"hi" she responded, taking his hand in hers

"so we were going to get a drink" Derek spoke, "wanna come with us? It's been a while since we hanged"

Y/n smiled with that smile that made Spencer's insides twist.

"well I can't drink, but you're right, I haven't seen you in too long" She nodded "We can eat out another time?" she asked, her eyes finding Spencer's, but there was something in his she didn't understand, it looked like... stunner?

He opened his mouth to say something but he was quickly cut off by Emily

"what do you mean you can't drink?"

"well you know" she trailed off placing a gentle hand on her stomach "given my situation, I think it's best if I don't"

It was as if time stilled before Penelope's voice cut right through it like a knife.

"oh my god! are you..."

and just then, Y/n realized, her eyes widening

"Oh wow" Emily grinned

"Are you serious?" JJ smiled wide, as Derek just smirked, clearly happy for them.

Y/n glanced at Spencer again, and even though she looked at him with worry, all of his disappeared, as his lips twitched into a smile and he nodded to his friends.

"we're having a baby" he confirmed, making all types of smiles and laughs erupt from the people in front of them

Everyone rushed to y/n to congratulate her, hugging and kissing her, and Spencer chuckled a bit as he felt left out,

it was his baby too after all,

"Why is nobody congratulating me?" he asked

"Oh, you're not getting any hugs" Penelope spoke accusingly "How dare you not tell us something so amazing?"

"Yeah Spencer why didn't you tell us?" JJ joined

"I was going to"

"When?"

"at the right moment"

"and when was that gonna be, eight months from now, when this little bundle of joy will have been born already?" Penelope asked

"Alright, I'm sorry" he gave up "You're right, I should have told you"

"damn right you should have," Penelope said " I'm already behind on the gifts now because of you"

Spencer laughed softly at that, followed by everyone else

"Lucky for you, you have the whole night to tell us what we've missed"Penelope stated before taking y/n arm in arm and dragging her to the elevator.

"Get ready" Emily chuckled, patting his back and following the two women

"Congratulations man," Derek said "and good luck" He nodded to the very mad woman staring at him from the elevator as he too walked to her.

Only JJ was left by his side

"I'm really happy for you Spence" she almost murmured "You'll be a great dad" She smiled, hugging him tightly, and he couldn't help but smile like an idiot.

I really hope so, he thought, hugging her back

"Hey!" Penelope yelled "No hugging! He's a traitor!"

#I hate how this turned out but maybe you won't #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau

[multifandommilfs]

Better than The Notebook

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Wc: 2570

Summary: the tension builds until it breaks

A/n: guess who finally got into the Criminal Minds fandom and got obsessed with Emily Prentiss?Unestablished relationships really aren't one of my strengths but I'm hoping to change that,enjoy! :))

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Gif by @penelope-garcia –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Are you okay with this?" Hotch queried from the entrance of the changing room. It was a club mission. All you had to do was walk in there, lure the Unsub out and book it before he could smash your head in. No pressure. 

 

"Whatever it takes to catch this sicko." You swung open the locker and the sight immediately made you regret your words. It was a low-cut, high-hem dress. The last time you wore anything this revealing was never. Your unamusement was furthered when your eyes landed on the dramatic curve of the waistline. The whole thing was a stark contrast to your daily FBI wear. "Whoever chose this is such a misogynist. This is literally a corset in itself." You lament, pulling the dress out from the locker to share your misery. You knew he didn't pick your poison. 

 

His lips flattened into a thin strip, a frown cutting between his brows, equally displeased with the ostentatious outfit. "It was Emily's pick. I'll get JJ to switch it out." He turned, heading for the door. Your heart leapt at the mention of her name. Did he say it right? You're holding what Emily likes in your hands. It would be a ruined chance if you didn't take it. 

 

"Wait wait, Hotch, I think I'll keep it." His hand left the door handle as he pivoted to face you, expecting an elaboration.

 

"It's unnecessary to bother anyone." You winced at your lousy lie. The questioning look on his face was made apparent by his frown digging deeper. 

 

"You're not bothering anyone." He reassured. 

 

"Yeah I know but Emily has a great sense in fashion, there's a high probability that the Unsub would like it."

 

He sent you that sideways interrogative glare and quirked his brow at the way you pulled the dress into your midriff, like it suddenly meant a lot to you. Adding to the fact that your mind changed after he mentioned Emily, it didn't take a cupid to put two and two together.

 

The pinch between his brows released, mirth filling his irises. "Alright, but if-"

 

"-I'm uncomfortable I will switch the dress out. I swear!" The corners of his lips rose for just a second and you would've missed it if you had blinked. 

 

"Oh and could you get JJ in here please? I have a feeling I'm going to need her help getting into this." You turned the outfit backward to expose the tucked-in zipper that ran too low from your shoulder blades. You weren't in the mood to sprain something.

 

Another nod and he was out the door. You stripped as quickly as possible, getting into the skin-tight dress with slight difficulty, hating the way you wanted to impress Emily by putting yourself through this torture.

 

The door to the room clicked open as you secured the dress on your body. You hadn't bothered to check who it was because it must've been JJ. 

 

You knew you were wrong when you heard the diction you've learnt to memorise. "Oh I knew I picked the right dress! You look absolutely de-lish in this."

 

It wasn't JJ, it was Emily. The shriek that escaped you as you startled and stumbled didn't help your balance as you slammed sideways into the locker, the reverberation clanging throughout the room.

 

"Are you okay?" But she was laughing that free, untamed laughter that made you swoon and grin on the grimy floor, forgetting about the possible bruise.  

 

"Where's JJ!" You tugged up the sleeves that fell off your shoulders, careful not to fray the fabric as Emily approached in quick strides, laughter still bubbling up the length of her throat.

 

"What? We're basically the same person." She stretched out a hand that you took without a second's break. You couldn't latch on to what she said when her palm pillowed yours with a warmth that made your heart race a little as she hauled you up, the muscles in her arm tensing. 

 

You were lucky the locker behind you served as a reliable pillar for your knees were almost limp when her scent encased you whole, your eyes instinctively flitting close for a beat too long, snatching that whiff of her that caused your fingertips to jitter. 

 

Your breathing shallowed out the moment you opened your eyes. And what you saw couldn't help quell the heat that blotched up your cheeks. She was just a breadth away from you, the curled ends of her hair tickling your cheek, but you could only focus on how the shadow cast from the lights above made it so her lips were deeper in red. It was utterly tempting.

 

You were closing the space, your gaze fixated, hypnotized. Your movement was so slow it was hardly perceptible, the murky hesitance within your irises morphing into something more intimate. Your lips parted as she damped hers, she was unable to move with the intensity and tenderness simultaneously existing in your gaze.

 

You were just a desperate breath away when she must've tightened her grip too much on your hand in turn for losing her ability to breathe. Just like that, the reverie shattered into splintering pieces. You backtracked, eyes wide, the fervour dissipating in a stunned blink. Her eyes that flicked up to yours averted themselves to the ground in a sadness you couldn't place once you released your grip on her hand, your hand falling limp to your side.

 

It took a ladened moment during which you swallowed a knot in your throat and her heart dropped so far below. Both of you contemplating whether to out the elephant in the room but at the same time too scared to address it because it was just too bold a move from amicability.  

 

"Let me just- get something." You managed; she pulled her body away from yours like it was ladened. You rationalised it to be the jet lag, definitely not the hesitance of leaving you. That was your mind playing games.

 

Your feet were fast to the locker from where you pulled the dress, and once you were obscured from her view by the metal door, you released the breath that had you in a chokehold, your mind replaying the closeness again, again, again, your senses fetching her scent up, her laughter, the glee in her eyes when she laughed and the way she parted from you as if she'd been in a daze like you were. 

 

"Hey, you okay?" You whipped around at her voice to see her eyeing your shoulder which took the brunt of your fall.

 

"Yea- yeah. Honestly I would be better if you didn't choose this dress." You were glad for the smile that split her lips at your sarcasm, ignorance lifting the tension immediately. 

 

"You love my fashion taste." She squinted her eyes at you. A taut smile was your response, but the quietness brought out a strain in the atmosphere. It was awkward enough for you to readjust your stance, swallowing.

 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." You forced out, whirling back to the locker to search for the accessories you already knew weren't there. It was you buying time to escape her gaze. It held some kind of encompassing gaiety, some glee in them despite everything they'd seen in this brutal line of work. It was one of the things that took upon your heartstrings and you didn't need any more of that right now. Especially in this locker room, alone with her, after that closeness. She cleared her throat.

 

"Let me help you with your zip." Oh yeah, you had completely forgotten about that.

 

She approached from behind as you shuffled on their feet, trying to quell your heart racing in your chest. The fact that you were starting to sweat in the suffocating dress didn't help your case. You really needed to stay calm before- 

 

Her fingers clasped around your waist and she caught the half-shudder that you tried to suppress, but what was hope now that you were already questioning your friendship? 

 

The swoop of the zip signalled your completed outfit. Yet she lingered, her hand splayed on the lower part of your back, another ghosting over the hair on your neck. 

 

You turned back this time, adamantly dismissing another shiver that ran up your spine. And she thought you might just pounce and grab her into a god-fearing kiss like the one in The Notebook. The rain would be her happy tears as long as you were the one holding her. 

 

But instead your gaze glazed with a kind of regret that she ignored; the tension didn't need any more adding. So just like that, you stepped out of her grasp muttering a thanks and slid on your previously haphazardly placed heels. 

______

In less than a moment you were striding into the raucous club with a façade of coolness and all confidence with your head angled high while Emily returned to the SUV outside. She wished the floor would give way with each step she took. Mind thinking about the next conversation between the two of you, or the lack of it and she felt a simmering fury that licked her heart, searing her bones. She wanted to linger in it for ruining a chance like that, to let it blaze away the hollow in her chest. 

 

The team noticed her lack of flirtatious jokes, the internal ruckus that was just threatening to boil over every moment even though she kept a smile on her face. They certainly noticed how she seemed to sink into a reverie whenever you appeared on screen, toying with the Unsub. They concluded it to be the jealousy kicking in, spurring on suggestive glances among themselves. 

_____

The mission was a knock-out success. He took your bait and almost smashed you with a brick before the team ambushed him.

 

Emily watched you at the corner of her eye, standing a suitable distance away from the writhing Unsub, arms around your midriff in that damn dress that hugged your figure. A gust of wind blew towards you, billowing your hair as the neon club lights decorated your complexion like everything in the world was pointing Emily to you in that ethereal glow. She ducked her eyes when you glanced over. She missed the way your gaze lingered on her until she slipped back into the SUV. 

 

It was only then that you noticed Hotch beside you. He gave you a sorrowful look, but perhaps you misinterpreted it with your woeful heart because that man was supposedly incapable of any emotions aside from that frown. 

________

 

What were the odds of the jet needing a monthly inspection the day you got into this push-and-pull dynamic with Emily? Because not only do you and your team have to take a commercial flight, but that said flight was crammed with vacationers, leaving limited space for the team and your duffel bags. 

 

"Oh my god what are the chances of people flying to Virginia at 4 in the goddamn morning?" You grumble, but before Reid could even sneak in a statistic, you whipped over to him. "That was a rhetorical question staticReid." It garnered the team's sympathetic laughter as Reid pulled his lips in annoyance. 

 

And when you were left with Emily in a two-row seat, you knew this wasn't only your bad luck at play. It was Morgan's turn to play matchmaker and the way he shimmied his brows suggestively made you want to shove two middle fingers in his face. He was lucky you were too emotionally exhausted to do that. Instead you rolled your eyes and slumped in your seat, body burning with an emotion you couldn't place.

 

Emily dozed before the flight took off, an easy task when darkness enclosed most of the plane, save for the dim lights that provided little visibility. You couldn't complain as it rescued you from any tension. 

 

You could still feel the phantom tickle when the ends of her hair brushed your skin. You dug the hilt of your palms against your eyes in hopes of pushing down the memory. You should've just yanked her in then instead of taking the fool's way out.

 

It was thirty minutes into the flight, your eyelids were ladened, but the middle-aged man snoring behind you was a lull to sleep, and the toddler shrieking every two minutes in front of you was a hindrance to slumber.

 

The moment you let your lids shut, a heavy weight fell upon your shoulder and you slapped a hand over your mouth in time to stifle a yelp. The warmth that encompassed your body once you felt the fluff of Emily's hair against your neck where your collar ended made slumber slip away from your grip instantly. Her touch had been everything you craved ever since the locker room.

 

You were robbed of air when she snuggled further into you, perhaps for your exuding warmth because the little air conditioner that blew above you was freezing the consciousness off of you, but now you were more awake than ever with 3 hours left of the flight. 

 

The tenderness of it all brought out a sudden intrusive urge in you to just push her hair from her face. And perhaps it was the afterglow from the over the top exhaustion that made your mind a fuzz for consequences, or your bleary gaze that seemed to affect your memory, but Courage peered up in your chest and made it impossible to wave away the impulse that pushed your arm out of your space and into hers. 

 

With a gentle finger, you tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear, unveiling, too intimate. But you didn't allow yourself to think about it when the pad of your finger grazed the smooth of her cheek until you were a lump in your seat. Heart wild as a smile stretched across your lips involuntarily, you couldn't calm it down if you wanted. 

 

Your gaze was soft as it traced her features, and you let your mind wander, her cheek smushed on your shoulder, tender, domestic, all but delusional. You smiled nevertheless, exhaustion clogging up your coherence.

 

And that smile must've been the key to your manifestation, to your yearning, because she roused awake, lifting her head off your shoulder, her hair tickling your collarbone. Through the drowsy haze of her eyes, she looked up at you past her lashes, and again, so, so close.

 

And you knew better than to forsake it this time. You surged over the armrest without warning, unbuckling the strain of the seatbelt with dexterity, and captured her lips softly, your fingers holding her chin before it slid to her jaw, tentatively. 

 

When she kissed you back with equal ardour, hands flying to your cheek, body slumping towards you. The white that burst behind your lids was immediate, fervent, and made you cross the armrest in a blur, pulling yourself into her lap.

 

She tugged you impossibly closer to her, famished for more, deprived of too much. There was no amount of greed that would satiate her now that she'd tasted. 

 

And when you parted, lungs heaving for air, you were all smiles and flushes on cheeks within the dark of the airplane, only a glow of yellow light pouring from the miniature bulb above the both of you. 

 

It was far better than The Notebook.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

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#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fic #aaron hotchner #jennifer jereau #aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #Spencer Reid #spencer reid x reader #bau x reader

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker*

Y/N: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone:

Spencer : ...I did. I broke it.

Y/N: No. No you didn't. JJ ?

JJ : Don't look at me. Look at Penelope.

Penelope: What?! I didn't break it.

JJ : Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Penelope: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.

JJ : Suspicious.

Penelope: No, it's not!

Derek: If it matters, probably not, but Emily was the last one to use it.

Emily: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!

Derek: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

Emily: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Derek!

Spencer : Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Y/N.

Y/N: No! Who broke it!?

Everyone:

Derek: Y/N... JJ 's been awfully quiet.

JJ : rEALLY?!

*Everyone starts arguing*

Y/N, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it.

Y/N: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick.

#fanfiction #sarcasm and stiles #x reader #incorrect quotes #incorrect quote generator #incorrect criminal minds quotes #cm #criminal minds #Derek Morgan #Spencer Reid #jennifer jereau #JJ #Penelope Garcia #Emily prentiss

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Cases and Candies

A/N: This is my first time posting here so bear with me lol

Summary: bau!y/n started a tradition of giving the BAU team candies every time they return home from a case. Only this time, Y/N was on sick leave.

“Great job, everyone. Have the rest of the week off. You all deserve it.” Hotch announced and walked up the few steps to his office.

The rest of the team was now at their respective desks, working through paperwork to pass their last two hours on the clock.

As soon as Hotch’s office shut, Emily, Spencer, and Derek’s hands flew up in the air, palms facing the ceiling as they waited for a small object to graze on their skin.

JJ entered the room with manila folders clutched to her chest, almost choking with laughter at the sight she walked in on. “I assume none of you are waiting for more paperwork?” She said, earning the three agents’ attention to lift from their desks, realizing the subconscious act they just did.

You started a tradition of giving the BAU team a piece of candy as soon as Hotch closed his door.

It would start with Derek, as your desk was next to him. Then, to Spencer, whose desk was across yours. You would move to Emily, then venture up the small flight of stairs to knock on Hotch’s door and leave a piece of candy on his desk without saying anything. You always gave Rossi’s treat last, at least between the people on the main floor, because you wanted to ensure that he didn’t grab two like he did the third time you offered him a piece. Nonetheless, you would give him his favorite flavor to make up for only giving him one candy. And then, you would skip to Penelope’s bat cave with a customized treat. Ribbons tied at the ends of the candy wrapper. Lastly, you would meet JJ on her way to the bullpen with a strawberry-flavored candy in your hand.

Two doors abruptly opened, and JJ immediately spoke, “Y/N was not with us this week, remember? She’s on sick leave. You two have to calm down.”

Aaron’s face shifted a little but was still stern all the same. On the other hand, Rossi tilted his head to indicate a front that he knew already, failing miserably.

JJ shook her head and went straight to Derek’s desk, dialing your number and setting it on speaker.

The ringing stopped as soon as you picked up the call, “Y/L/N speaking.” Your cough echoed in the bullpen, but you were far too busy fighting for your life to feel embarrassed over your office, hearing you heave for air.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s JJ. Are you busy?” Her voice was soft and gentle, and even if you were busy, you would’ve stopped everything you were doing.

A bright laugh rumbled from your end, “If watching ‘A Bug’s Life’ for the fifteenth time is considered busy, then I guess I am.” Your movements muffled the speaker a little bit but they heard you clear enough.

JJ smiled at that. As the person you mainly confided with, you didn’t hesitate to ask her to bring you the DVD copy of the movie as soon as she offered to visit you before they flew out for the case. “I just wanted to ask if you have any treats for your puppies here. They were all waiting patiently, and I’ll let you know they did a great job at the case.” JJ chuckled, earning multiple eye rolls from Emily and Derek.

“Oh, yeah! I forgot to mention that I left a set of treats in my drawer. One for each.” You emphasized your last words, knowing how greedy your teammates could sometimes get.

It has happened before. There was one time when Spencer argued, backed with statistics, that he did such a great job helping find the unsub that he deserved at least three chewy candies. Not to mention that they all created a formal petition, signed by everyone (even Hotch with a special mention of his Unit Chief position), to give five candies to the agent that finds and arrests the unsub.

There was a wave of cheering in the bullpen. 

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” Emily approvingly nodded.

Derek snorted, “Thanks, sweet mama.”

Spencer went on with his usual random fact, “Sweets as a reward is actually ill advised because studies show that it leads to obesity.”

“Does that mean I can take your piece?” JJ raised a brow at Spencer.

“I just said it’s ill advised. I didn’t say I don’t want one.” Spencer walked to your desk and ignored Derek’s teasing grin.

Aaron let go of the railing, clearing his throat. “Just bring it to my office.” He said and went back to his office.

Rossi didn’t waste time, walking down with an unusual speed that he doesn’t use even during a case. “I want the grape one!” He announced.

The glass door swung open, revealing Penelope with her bright-colored pen. “Hey! No fair! No one told me the treats are out.” She rushed to the group and playfully shoved Derek out of her way.

You couldn’t help but smile through the phone as you listened to the commotion from the other end of the line. And you promised yourself never to miss a case ever again.

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia #criminal minds #fanfic #imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa spencer reid #fem!reader #x reader

[wildflowerluver]

sweet pea

aaron hotchner x teen!reader, bau team x teen!reader

5 times the team hears about you and the 1 time they actually meet you

cw: fem reader, set over the span of three years, case mentions, broken family unit, hotchner trio, hotch is a swiftie, also refers to his daughter as ‘sweet pea’, team is nosy, eating/food, forehead kisses run the hotchner home

wc: 3.4k

༺♡༻

1. inception

child cases are always rough.

they’re not only extremely sensitive, but they hit emotionally for everyone involved. 

it’s a small town and yet no strong leads. there’s no reason for the case to be as difficult as it is, but every case the team looks into is different.

local p.d. bring in a woman named chancy solace. she was the last one to see the missing boy alive and no one wants to wait around for another death to happen to look for evidence.

hotch was set to do the interview.

he asked basic questions about the missing boy, keeping his voice calm as she recounted her day through tears. they all knew she was innocent, no doubts about it. he was set to finish up after a few moments. it was clear she didn’t know much.

as he went to stand, however, solace had stopped him.

“do you have children, agent hotchner?” her voice was broken.

hotch nods. “i do.”

“how old?”

“my son is 3 and my daughter is 13.”

the air outside the room went stale. everyone on the team knew jack. some had even met him within his first few weeks of life. he was three, that was a fact - but a daughter? not once had hotch mentioned one, let alone one with such a large age gap. jack never rattled about a big sister either.

solace frowned, more tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “then you must understand the guilt i’m feeling right now. can you imagine if you were the last one to see your daughter before she disappeared? how can i possibly have it in me to be a part of this?”

hotch doesn’t want to think about the question she posed, not at all.

“we’re going to find him. it’s going to be alright,” it was a promise, one hotch intended not to break.

he left the room after that. their only known witness wasn’t much help for the case and there was no point in wasting time.

rossi stops hotch before he can walk away.

“why’d you lie?”

there’s no question on what rossi is asking about. it’s profiling 101 that lying to a suspect, no matter innocent or not, could be dangerous.

hotch glanced at his team.

“i didn’t.”

2. first encounter

you’ve had a really, really, really bad day.

from the second you woke up, everything seemed to go wrong. school wasn’t any better and by the end of the day, the only thing you wanted to do was see your dad. he’s your favorite person and a hug from him always reassures you that things will be okay.

you text him before your last class of the day to ask when he’ll be home. if it’s even possible, a deeper frown appears on his face when he tells you no later than six. 

part of you wants to be happy from that response. no later than six means there’s no cases and he’s on top of his files. but after the day you had, you just need someone and waiting nearly four hours for him to get home is less than ideal. 

can i come to the bau?

your text is a shot in the dark. your dad keeps you out of his profession and you’ve never stepped foot in quantico. you just hope he gets some sort of semblance for what's going on if you're asking to come see him.

he responds back seconds later. ‘i’ll send an agent.’

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you to get there on your own, there’s even a direct line from the train station closest to your school, but you're still young, only 14, and you know he would feel more comfortable having an agent pick you up.

the next time you check your phone, your dad has sent a message with the name of the agent and instructions on how to prove that it’s him. it’s not him being overprotective, it’s him wanting you to be safe. 

agent anderson is easy enough to spot. you run through the procedures your dad wanted and once you know it’s the right person, you get in the car.

he doesn’t say anything when you shove your earbuds in your ears and shuffle your playlist and you’re thankful for that. you’re especially grateful that he doesn’t ask questions when you bite your lip and swipe away stray tears that have fallen down your face.

music is an outlet for you, an escape, and right now that’s all you wanted to do. 

earbuds remain in your ears as you step into the bau building. anderson leads you through security and gets you a visitors badge. you very faintly hear any of his verbal instructions.

he leaves you once you reach the right floor, pointing through the glass doors to show you where to go. with a smile, he’s gone.

you weigh your options for a moment before walking in. you told your dad you're here but you don’t know where his office is. and right now, you really do not want to deal with anyone else. but with a deep breath, you decide to take your chances and head in.

a child walking into the bau is an automatic red flag, let alone one with puffy eyes and red cheeks, a clear sign of crying.

morgan and j.j. are the first two to stand up, wasting no time in circling their desks to walk to where you stand at the bullpen entrance; j.j.’s mouth already open with an “are you alright?” on the tip of her tongue.

but before they reach you, and before j.j. can speak, hotch is out of his office and moving down the stairs.

he steps in front of them when he faces you, thus shielding you from the prying eyes of the team. you look up at your dad, eyes full of a new wave of tears.

hotch doesn’t hug you then, though he desperately wants to, nor does he explain who you are to the team. instead, he places a strong hand on your shoulder, turning you slightly before guiding you up to his office. the door is shut and the blinds are closed. the two of you are cut off from the others and all of them know not to intrude.

“who was that?” rossi questioned after stepping onto the catwalk. the commotion was noticeable.

“i think we just met y/n.”

3. phone call 

on flights home from cases, what the team does onboard genuinely varies with what time of day it is.

during early morning and late night flights, you can find most of the team asleep, trying to make up for the rest lost in the past few days. anything between that is typically a more active time.

hotch is dealt into a game of poker with the entire team. rossi acts as the dealer claiming he’s “not in the mood to get outsmarted at his favorite game.”

the entire group is laughing and chatting among themselves as they play. there’s no reason not to, it was a successful case - worth the positive mood on the jet.

hotch’s phone ringing cuts through emily’s turn.

he holds his hands up in defense and mumbles a quiet apology.

“hi sweet pea,” hotch barely has time to greet you before he gets cut off with your frantic “did you listen?”

his laugh causes the others to bring their heads up from their cards. a hotch laugh is uncommon, rare.

“i did. we finished up here last night so i listened before i went to bed and finished when i woke up,” he answers your question. 

he waits for your response, already knowing that you want to know his thoughts on the album.

“well,” hotch pauses. “if i’m being honest, i liked it more than fearless.”

j.j. and emily are the only two who have any idea what he’s talking about. a record could be set for how fast their eyes snap to each other once it clicks.

hotch is quiet for a few moments. though no one can make out exactly what you’re saying on the other end, they can hear your muffled rambling.

“yeah yeah, i liked that one too,” hotch agrees. “i think my top two are dear john and haunted, though. her songwriting is incredible in those.”

whatever he means clearly pleases you judging by the content look on his face.

“alright i have to get going,” he starts. “but i have the vinyl reserved at the record store. we can go when i get back? should be home by two.”

you agree without hesitation, several “thank you’s” being repeated. hotch won’t admit it ever to anyone besides you, but he’s excited to hear it on vinyl too. it’s kinda your shared thing.

“i’ll see you when i get home, okay? i love you.”

he hangs up after goodbyes, placing his phone back onto the table before picking up his cards. the silence lingers in the air even after he makes the motion that he’s ready to continue. “what?”

“you listen to taylor swift?”

hotch smiles, a genuine one. “my daughter loves her. have to keep up somehow.”

4. vacation 

when hotch doesn’t show up to work for a week, it takes only the first day for the team to panic. it had been a little over a year and a half since foyet had stabbed hotch and hotch had gone missing. no one was going to take chances when their boss, who typically had perfect attendance, showed up without notice.

rossi and morgan went to strauss at the end of the day. 

their interrogation on hotch’s whereabouts is in good faith, but it doesn’t take a profiler to notice strauss’ sigh at their concerns.

“agent hotchner is on vacation,” she starts. “he should be back next week. until then, i am under orders to not assign a new case unless necessary.”

the agents turn to each other in confusion as they leave. “a vacation? come on rossi, when in all the years of knowing him has hotch ever willingly gone on vacation.”

the older man shrugs. “i don’t know. maybe this’ll be good for him.”

there’s no arguing with that.

when hotch returns the following monday, no one hesitates to notice the change in his physical appearance.

his skin is tanned and he has a slight tinge of sunburn on his nose and cheekbones; a clear sign he went somewhere warm.

“hotch!” emily catches him before he can retreat to his office.

all eyes are on him and he knows it. 

“where were you?” she inquired. 

hotch sighs. “greece.” 

this catches the attention of the other team members in the bullpen. rossi seems to have found an empty chair at j.j.’s desk. even garcia had chosen this exact moment to get a new cup of coffee.

“greece?” emily stutters. “like the european country?”

hotch nods. “that’s the one.” 

morgan whistles. vacations in the bau are fairly uncommon. the looming threat of being called back for a case stops most from planning. even if the timing does work out, no one goes far; let alone out of the country. 

“and you just decided to go there for a casual vacation,” j.j.’s tone isn’t condescending, but rather showing genuine curiosity.

“it’s y/n’s birthday in a few months and she’s always wanted to go,” hotch explains like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “jack’s still a little too young so he stayed with jessica.”

he doesn’t mingle around after that, choosing to head up to his office to get set up after his week away.

“huh,” garcia murmurs. “didn’t take him for a greek island guy.”

“guess that shows just how much he’s wrapped around y/n’s finger.”

5. baked goods

you don’t have school today.

despite that, you still get up early to have breakfast with your brother and dad. once jack is picked up by the bus for school, your dad gets ready for work.

you stay in the kitchen, however, moving the cookies you made last night from one container to the other.

when your dad reappears, you wait for his hands to be empty before posing your question.

“is there any way you can give these to agent rossi?” you practically shove the container into your dad’s hand.

aaron raises an eyebrow. “rossi?”

“you mentioned he was italian,” you wait for a nod of confirmation. “these are canestrelli, they’re an italian cookie. i wanted to know if you could give these to him for a taste test.”

he smiles. “trying to expand your baking horizons?”

you match his expression. “exactly.”

with a kiss to your forehead, your dad is out the door and off to work.

“delivery,” hotch’s tone is steady as he knocks on rossi’s office door.

“from who?”

“y/n,” hotch answers as he sets the container down. “she tried to make canestrelli and wanted your opinion. i’m just the messenger.”

rossi takes the container from hotch. he opens it up before plucking a cookie out and examining it. “looks authentic.” 

if he’s being honest, even if the cookie isn’t good, he’ll still love it.

but it isn’t.

of course it isn’t.

rossi takes one bite and his eyes widen.

“i haven’t had canestrelli this good since the last time i went to italy. tell her she should be very proud and i will be happy to pay for more.”

hotch can’t hide his proud expression. “i will.”

+1 first meeting

you always wait for your dad to get home from work. it’s routine.

plus, you made a promise to jack when you put him to bed that you would send your dad upstairs when he got home.

you bake in the meantime. it’s something to pass the time and you figure having something fresh to eat would be a nice surprise for your dad.

music plays from the record you have spinning. you keep it quiet as to not wake jack up upstairs. he’s not a light sleeper, but you don’t want to disturb his rest.

the side door opens as you're mixing the flour to the batter. tonight’s bake is gingerbread. easy enough to make. 

it surprises you when your dad doesn’t call out a hello. he’s come home this late before when you’re still up and he always makes it a point to greet you. plus, you have music playing. there’s no doubt he can’t hear that.

“dad?” your voice is quiet.

you peer around the corner, stepping out a bit further when you see him, though you freeze when you notice the other people following him. 

“hi sweet pea,” his voice is tired, you can tell. you close your eyes when he hugs you and kisses your forehead. if his team is here you know it’s not good.

“what’s going on?”

he turns to you. “i can explain in a few minutes. are you okay for introductions?” his voice lowers for the last part, not wanting the team to hear if you say no.

you nod, though anxiety bubbles at the pit of your stomach at the deflection of the question.

“everyone, this is y/n, my daughter,” your dad starts. unsure what to do, you wave slightly. “y/n, this is my team, that’s dave, derek, emily, spencer, j.j., and penelope.” he points to each of the people as he rattles his name off.

while your dad kept you out of his work, you did faintly know each member of the team. he talked about them in passing and jack rambled often about something “uncle dave” or “uncle derek” did.

“why are they here?” you hope your question doesn’t come off as rude.

your dad squeezes your arm. “can you go back in the kitchen for a few? i’m going to get these guys set up and then i can explain. is jack asleep?”

you nod. “i put him to bed a few hours ago. he was asking for you.”

“thank you,” he starts. “i’ll go see him in a bit.”

the conversation is over. you feel awkward standing in the foyer where you’re clearly the center of attention. you turn and walk into the kitchen. finishing your baking seems like a good idea.

aaron enters the kitchen as you’re pouring the batter into the pans. the music is off by now, though the record stays on the turntable. he waits for you to put the pan in the oven and face him before explaining.

“there’s a mole in the bau. we’re trying to figure it out but we obviously can’t work there. i volunteered our house. we would’ve gone to dave’s but he’s having work done.” you know he’s giving you the most minimal answer possible.

“oh,” you’re honestly not quite sure what else to say.

he continues. “we’re hoping to have it cleared up soon but we don’t have a lot of our normal equipment. i wasn’t expecting you to be up for all this. couldn’t sleep?”

“was waiting for you to get home,” you shrugged. “you know i always do.” 

“yeah i know. i should’ve called.”

you turn to him. “It’s alright. i’m just going to clean up while i wait for the gingerbread to be done and then i’ll go to bed.” 

your dad nods. “let me know when you do.” he disappears out of the kitchen after that.

cleaning up doesn’t take long and you’re still elbows deep in soapy water when the oven beeps. you take it out of the pan and set it on a cooling rack before gathering your stuff. you’re honestly exhausted.

going into the living room takes a moment of mental courage. you know everyone is in there and you don’t want to interrupt them. but, you’ve missed your dad and you want him to say goodnight.

“um, i’m going to head up to bed,” your voice echoes through the room. it was fairly quiet before and you feel embarrassed for interrupting that. the first part is directed at your dad. you turn to the rest of the team. “i made fresh gingerbread if anyone wants any. it’s on the counter, help yourself. i also put on a fresh pot of coffee and that should be ready soon.”

aaron’s heart is so full that he almost forgets the case at hand.

“i’ll be up in a minute,” aaron voices.

you hum, nodding to the team as a non-verbal goodnight.

he dishes out individual assignments within the team. they’ll work as a group to start before taking shifts so others can rest.

jack’s room is his first stop. he doesn’t wake the boy, choosing to instead kiss his forehead before picking up his stuffed dinosaur, a gift, and placing it back on the bed.

you’re just getting under the covers when your dad knocks.

“come in!”

your dad steps inside, shutting the door slightly.

“hi,” you smile.

“hi,” he echoes. “good day?”

you shrug. “yeah, i guess so. i got jack from school and we spent the afternoon together. missed you though.”

aaron frowns. “i’m sorry sweet pea. didn’t think this was going to happen. none of us did.”

“i know you didn’t. i’m not mad.”

you want to continue your statement and wash away any guilt you know he’s feeling. but, your body betrays you and a yawn cuts you off.

“alright, time for bed,” his words make you feel like a child but you know he’s right.

he tucks you in and like with jack, he kisses your forehead.

“goodnight dad, i love you.”

“i love you too.”

his demeanor changes when he goes downstairs and sits with the team. he’s serious, ready to work. right now this case is his priority. he, like others, wants to wrap it up quickly and efficiently. 

emily nudges him when he sits down beside her. spencer and derek’s banter about the case is long drowned out.

“she’s a good kid.”

hotch beams. 

“i know.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotchner x teen!reader #bau x teen reader #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #derek morgan #david rossi #penelope garcia #Aaron hotchner x teen reader

[luciferlokinox]

Criminal Minds Incorrect Quotes

~Reader Insert~

Reid: *Screams* Reader: *Screams louder to assert dominance*

Hotch: Should we do something?

Rossi, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

Rossi: I think we’re missing something.

JJ: Teamwork?

Reid: Concentration?

Prentiss and Morgan: A general sense of what we’re doing?

Prentiss, setting down a card: Ace of spades.

Morgan, pulling out an Uno card: +4

Garcia, pulling out a pokémon card: Jolteon I choose you!

Reid, Trembling: What are we playing?!

I posted this while watching NCIS :)

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #incorrect criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #derek morgan x reader #emily prentiss x reader #david rossi x reader #Jennifer jereau #bau team #bau family

[cumulo-stratus]

BAU autism headcannons

(GIF NOT MINE)

(male reader)

CW: possible swearing, mentions of meltdowns and overstimulation, lemme know if theres anything else!

A/N: sry i havent rly posted in a while, i started a school recently and its been a rly big change for me so ive just been emotionally/mentally exhausted like all the time, but i dont wanna abandon u guys so i decided i would get something up, even if its not super good, thanks for y’all’s understanding <3

i think both JJ and Emily would become sort of mothers to reader

(not that they werent already mothers to the rest of the team but reader especially)

like JJ would totally have a motherly instinct for readers needs (like a sort of spider sense)

like if your ever nervous about something being too much or being overwhelming, jj would kinds know this and either make arrangements for accommodations or make sure you know you dont have to go if you want to.

and like she definitely wold put herself in charge of keeping your safe foods stashed on the jet and at the office

emily is more of a mother in a protective way than jj is

like this girl will not hesitate at all to go off on someone for maybe being disrespected to about stimming your chair while thinking

or like if you dont want to shake a police officers hand when your being introduced, and you get dirty/weird looks for it, or anyone comments on it? BOOM this girl will stare at them with so much animosity they’ll be scared of her shes so hot oml

anyways i thinks he team would be super accepting of you, especially if you joined after reid like they would already have some experience with autism

and like if you weren’t ent comfortable telling anyone other than hotch(i feel like it would be like a in ur file thing idk how the government works tho) spencer would defo be able to tell and confront u privately abt it (our respectful king <3)

and if you are comfortable telling the team, everyone would be respectful

i think like rossi/gideon would be a little clueless but like trying their hardest

like rossi would have no idea what stimming is but understands that like you move in certain ways or make certain noises when ur excited

and like with all his money he wouldnt hesitate to spoil u with any fidget toy u need/want or like a rly nice weighted blanket (its insane how expensive those things are)

and like gideon despite his profound understanding of others (hope yall got that ;)) he wouldn’ t get why sometimes you dont feel like/cant talk but totally respects it

omg garcia is our autism ally QUEEN im telling you

always has a big basket of fidgets/stim toys sitting on her desk and when your having a rough day shell leave you a little goodie in a brightly colored and decorated bag

i firmly believe that she is the queen at finding brands with clothes that not only fits your style perfectly but is also sensory friendly

i think she would definitely say that if she never ended up working in the FBI she wouldve started a clothing shop for sensory friendly clothing/accessories

spencer would totallllyyyy be your best friend when it comes to being under-stimulated

he will totally info dump on you and vice-versa

spencer (like penlope) would totally recommend clothing brands that are sensory friendly, but sock brands in particular

and everyone makes fun of you for nerding out over everything

also spencer would definitely get in the habit of grabbing your hands in his when you start to pick a t your nails and cuticles

like he didnt even realize what he was doing the first time but now he does it without thinking about it and for the team its normal

“hey,” and he would gently grab your hands to stop you from picking at them

“sorry..”

”youve nothing to be sorry for” (with that little reid smile oml rf[osifjgturhv)

and i also firmly believe that morgan is the best people to go to if your having a meltdown

he would stop you from harmfully stimming

“hey sugar, unclench those pretty little hands for me. there we go… good job kid.” he would have the softest smile and voice

and when he takes your hands to stop you from hitting yourself his grip is rly firm but gentle

but hotch is the best to go to for when your overstimulated

like he would make sure you know his office is always a quiet place you can go to with out questions

and he would secretly have a stash of like stimm toys in his office that he stole from garcia

his couch is always open to you, especially like late at night if you are really tired his fatherly instincts will kick in and force you to come to his office for a break

he would would hand you and blanket and a stim toy

”sit. sleep”

thats all he would say in his cute little stern but actually caring voice <3

#criminal minds #bau team #bau #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelope garcia #jennifer jereau #criminal minds x gn reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x masc! reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #headcannons #autism #autism headcannons #criminal minds x autistic reader

[endyourpartofthestory]

luke alvez could run me over with a truck and I would say thank you

#Luke alvez #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #spencer reid #david rossi #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #matt simmons #garvez #luke alvez x reader

[freckles-things]

Out of Time // Part 1

Summary: It took you three separate instances to realise that maybe you just didn’t fit into the team of the BAU. Maybe you should be honest to yourself and just request another transfer. You loved the team, but you were unhappy, feeling left out and unneeded. Feeling like you did not belong.

Pairing: BAU!Team x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: feeling left out, feeling unneeded, being excluded, self worth issues

Part 2 / Part 3

----

It took you three separate instances to realise that maybe you just didn’t fit into the team of the BAU. Maybe your hope of finding your place within their dynamics had been for naught. Maybe you should be honest to yourself and just request another transfer. You loved the team, they were all wonderfully unique and brilliant people. You looked up to every single one of them and learned a lot from them as well. But you were unhappy, feeling left out and unneeded. Feeling like you did not belong.

------

One

It had been a hard case that the team had worked on solving for the past few days. It had been gruesome and they had all felt pretty useless in the first few days since they’d not found a single lead. It had been Spencer’s brilliant thinking that had saved the day earlier this morning, as well as several lives.

The rest of the day had been spent wrapping everything up at the local PD. Since they’d gotten the message that the flight back would only start the following morning, the mood had been pretty relaxed and the spirits had been high. Once back at the Hotel, you decided on taking a hot shower and changed into something comfortable before settling in for a relaxed evening. It had been a stressful week and you were glad for the chance to unwind before getting back to work tomorrow. Lying down in the surprisingly comfortable bed, you switched on the TV and zapped through the channels until you had found something you could stand watching. It took you only two hours to grow bored though, and you decided to take a nightly walk to clear your mind some more before going to bed.

Throwing on a jacket, you made your way out of the hotel and moved to stroll through some of the more livelier streets in the area. You passed bars and restaurants, the odd laundromat and corner store until you passed by a small Chinese restaurant. You would have just walked past it, like you had done with all the other restaurants, if you hadn’t heard a very familiar laugh and excited voices the moment the door opened and a couple stepped out. You peered through the large window into the brightly lit interior just to freeze at the view. Inside was sitting your entire team around a big, round table that was loaded with food and wine. They were all smiling and laughing, even Hotch. Spencer was trying to figure out how to use his chopsticks, while Rossi seemed to be commenting on it until JJ took pity on him and helped out with the good old hair tie trick.

Watching them, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. They seemed content and happy, relaxed. Looking in from the outside, they looked like a slightly odd family. And you clearly weren’t part of it. Your smile dropped and you felt your shoulders hunch in defeat. They’d clearly planned this outing, but no one had invited you. You were fairly new to the team, had only been with them for four month. You had tried really hard to fit in, to befriend them, to find your place within their dynamic. It wasn’t easy. They’d worked together for so many years that they functioned as one. Everyone who joined them would have to struggle to find a place. And it wasn’t that they were rude or didn’t take you seriously. They were friendly and had greeted you openly, assuring you they were looking forward to working with you. It was just that they worked together so well, they sometimes seemed to forget you were there too.

Sighing to yourself, you brushed away the tears that had gathered in the corners of you eyes. You’d wanted to be part of the dynamic so badly, part of this weirdly imperfect perfect chosen family that worked together. You’d wanted to feel like you’d belong. Instead you felt more lonely than ever. Slowly stepping away from the window you sullenly made your way back to the Hotel. The next morning you greeted your colleagues with a smile, resolving to not let them notice that you’d stumbled upon their little get together last night. After all, maybe they just needed some more time to warm up to you. Maybe you just needed some more time to find your place.

And if anyone of them noticed that you were quieter than usual and your gaze held a sadness that wasn’t usually there, none of them said anything about it.

------

Two

It had been a rather slow week at the BAU. Not that it wasn’t welcome. It gave everyone the chance to catch up on their paperwork. Well, except for Reid who seemed to be ahead of them as always. It was rather monotonous and lead to more frequent coffee breaks and more chit chat within the bullpen.

Today you’d decided to make a little detour on your way to work and get their favourite drinks and bagels for everyone as a surprise. Stepping into the bullpen, you were surprised that everyone was being rather quiet. Emily was wearing shades inside and her hair seemed unbrushed. Morgan was sitting at his desk, head tipped back against his chair and eyes closed. Spencer was starring at the same side of his report without flipping the page. Taking a look at the offices upstairs you saw that Hotch was on the phone and looked like his usual stoic self. Rossi however had his lights dimmed considerably and seemed to be staring at the wall.

Placing your goods onto your desk, you grabbed the first few things and delivered them to their respective recipients. Hotch, still on the phone, gifted you with one of his rare smiles and nodded in thanks. Rossi playfully kissed your hand and dramatically declared you the hero of his day, making you giggle at his ridiculous display. JJ wasn’t in yet, so you placed her things on her desk for her to find. Derek gave you a salute as soon as he saw his coffee, forgoing words for chucking half the drink at once. Emily made grabby hands as soon as you moved towards her, smiling brilliantly at you as soon as she had food and caffeine in her hands. Spencer blinked at you in surprise, but smiled gently and muttered a quick thank you.

“Why do they all look like death warmed over?” you chuckle slightly, as you stepped into Garcia’s office to bring her her drink and a bagel.

“Oh, you’re the best Y/N, thanks! They’re all hungover. Had way too much to drink last night at the Club, well except for Bossman and Boy-Wonder of course. But Reid is an absolute lightweight, gets drunk on one cocktail. And Emily made him drink two. It was hilarious. Too bad you couldn’t make it!” Garcia seemed to be her usually peachy self, but she was wearing shades inside as well.

“Yeah, too bad. Sounds like a lot of fun”, you mutter, already on your way back to your desk. You hadn’t known anything about a Club night. Seems like you hadn’t been invited again. This time it hurt just a little more, knowing that none of them had thought to invite you while they must have known that you’d find out the next day when they were hungover. You felt like they were shoving in your face the fact that you didn’t belong. That they’d tolerate you at work, but you had no places in the team and in their lives beyond that. You felt like a fool for buying the drinks and the food. God, you must seem so desperate for their approval. At least Garcia seemed like she wouldn’t have minded having you there.

Feeling your eyes sting, you made a quick detour to the bathroom. You took a few minutes to breathe deeply and splash some water onto your face to hide the slight blotchiness from your tears. Taking another deep breath you moved back to your desk and tried to enjoy your coffee.

Trying to keep your emotions in check, you stayed silent most of the day. You didn’t join the coffee breaks or the chit chat, feeling like you weren’t really wanted there either way. You stayed silent when Derek weaseled some of his own paperwork into your pile to get off work earlier and when the other’s slowly finished their work for the day.

On your way back from the little kitchenette with yet another coffee, you noticed that you and Hotch were the only ones left. It was Friday evening and the team was off the rota for the weekend. A rare occurrence. You were sure that Hotch was wanting to go home to his son, but if the man was anything it was responsible. He was sure to finish the paperwork before he’d go.

Sighing to yourself for the umpteenth time that day, you made your way up the stairs and gently knocked on the door. Hotch called you in immediately.

“Y/L/N, I thought you’d gone home already like everyone else.”

“Nah, didn’t have any plans for today and I wanted to get ahead of the paperwork.” Hotch nodded in understanding, glancing at his own pile. You followed his gaze and shook your head slightly.

“Are those reports that you have to fill in specifically or can either of us do those as well?” Hotch frowned slightly but confirmed that anyone of the team could work on them. You nodded gently and grabbed about half the pile. Hotch of course instantly protested and assured you that he had no problem filling them out on his own.

“I know. But I don’t have any plans and I’m sure Jack will be happy if you get home an hour or two earlier. And you as well”, you said softly while moving back out of his office and to your desk to not give him the chance to protest or argue any more.

An hour later you noticed Hotch getting ready to leave. On his way out he stopped at your desk, thanking you again for helping him out and reminding you not to stay too long. You just nodded and smiled, whishing him a nice weekend with Jack. As soon as he’d left, your shoulders slumped again. Well, even if they didn’t want you to be a part of their lives, you could at least make sure that you had some use for them. And if making sure that they get to leave work a bit earlier and spend time with their loved ones was it, then you wouldn’t complain. And if you grew even more quiet and distant towards the team, they never brought it up.

------

Three

It had been a coincidence that you’d even seen the picture. You’d gone to Garcia, wanting to get the information the team required for the case. The filter had still been running and you’d decided to stay the few minutes it would need to finish. She’d excitedly told you about a new dress she was planning on buying and grabbed her phone to show you.

The lockscreen was a picture of the entire team. Well, more like the entire team except for you. You’d disregarded it and would have assumed that it was an old one, if Spencer didn’t already sport his new haircut he had only gotten last week and if there hadn’t been a small scratch on Hotch’s temple, one that was currently still healing. The picture showed them all grinning at the camera, glasses of wine in hand and seemingly cracking up over something.

Well, there was no need to lie to yourself anymore. You weren’t really part of the team. They didn’t need you, they’d worked well before you’d joined and they still would once you’d left. And they didn’t seem to want you either. For one year you’d tried to find your footing, your own place within the team. You’d given it time. You’d known they were like family and would need time to adjust to someone new as well. They hadn’t though.

It wasn’t like they didn’t take you seriously or disregarded your ideas. Not at all, they always took into account what you thought and listened to what you had to say. Somehow though it didn’t feel like enough. You had wanted to be a part of this brilliant team for a long time now, and in a way you were. But not completely. You liked the work, liked helping people and catching the bad guys. You adored every single person on the team in their own way.

Hotch the stoic leader, who always seemed to be stern and so serious, but smiled at Reid’s antics and first bumped him when he looks sad because Derek didn’t. Who always made sure that his teams was alright, reassuring Garcia that she was exactly what the team needed and made small jokes to make her laugh and encouraged Derek to take on more leading responsibilities. Standing up to anyone who dared to threaten or criticise his team, being the first to puts his job on the line and repeatedly disregarded career prospects to stay with them. The person, who centred the team, who always listened and understood, identifying the input each of them had to offer, and formed it into a plan.

Rossi, who was the teams father figure, always listening to everyone and always having a fitting piece of advice to give. Who didn’t care about his fame and just wanted to help people, not hesitating to use his own resources. Who swore in Italian and could charm anyone if wanted, but deliberately choose not to. Who likes expensive things but never missed a chance to share them and who always had a snarky comment for any situation, bringing his famous spaghetti for lunch on a regular basis.

Derek with his nicknames and his flirting and his stupidly big heart, who just wanted to do right and was stupidly self-sacrificing. The man who started prank wars and tried to get out of doing paperwork and liked to challenge authority, but would never leave anyone hanging. Who demolished and remodelled houses and was the first to offer help in any situation, but not afraid to call anyone out on their bullshit.

Emily with her dark sense of humour and though exterior, who would do anything to protect the team and subtly checked in on everyone to see if they were alright. Who could kick anyone’s ass and didn’t hesitate to do so if she felt it warranted. Who felt so much more than she showed. The Emily that could beat Spencer at cards while being nearly as geeky as him. Who could face the most gruesome of cases without flinching and kept most of her life private.

Spencer with his brilliant mind and his awkward nature, who rambled on and on about any topic and tried to cheer people up with magic tricks. Who listened to people and tried his best to give advice and who was way braver and way stronger than he looked. Who always looked out for his colleagues and friends and tried to help anytime he could, even if he didn’t have a solution yet.

JJ the mother of the group, who was soft and gentle and always had an open ear and an open door, but could be fierce and hard if need be. Who tried to do right by everyone and nearly always succeeded in lightning the mood and making people smile. Who made tough decisions without blinking and stood up for them.

Garcia the colourful whirlwind of cheerfulness and happiness, who was a stark contrast to everything they saw in their job everyday. Garcia, who always had a witty comeback and saved their asses on a regular basis, never quite getting the recognition she deserved. The light in their dark and the glue that held the team together.

But it wasn’t enough. You had played with the thought for weeks now. And you had come to the conclusion that you felt like you didn’t fit within the team. You had no special talent or knowledge, no more than the other members of the team at least. You felt tolerated at work, included even. But seeing them functioning together so well, seeing the unshadowed joy and affections every time they interacted with each other, feeling left out in everything that didn’t directly pertain to a case – you couldn’t do it anymore. For over a year you’d tried your best, given your all just to not be enough, just to still not having a set place within the team. You would miss them terribly, even though you weren’t sure that they’d feel the same. But you refused to be miserable.

So, taking a deep breath and knocking on Hotch’s door once the case was over, you squared your shoulders, stepping in as soon as he answered and moved towards his desk while he asked what he could do for you.

“I want to request a transfer.”

------

Please keep in mind that I'm not a native speaker. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #david rossi x reader #david rossi #penelope garcia #penelope garcia x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jereau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #bau team #bau team x reader #cm

[bisexualmultifandommess]

It’s Spencer’s turn!!

I headcanon Reid as bisexual (though I like fics where he’s gay too).

His mum was the first person he came out to because it felt right to tell her first because of how close he is to her. She took it really well. She sometimes doesn’t remember but even when she doesn’t she never says a bad word about it.

He definitely had a thing for Ethan and there was a lot of tension between the two of them are they had good chemistry.

He never dated when he was younger because people were a lot older than him but he’s had crushes before.

I like to believe that he developed feelings for Morgan over time. He gets a little flustered whenever he calls him Pretty Boy but secretly likes it.

He had a strong connection with Maeve and really liked her a lot. It ended too soon but I think she was nice.

Eventually I think in an AU his feelings for Morgan would start to be reciprocated.

He definitely thought that Hotch’s brother was hot because I think he was kind of watching him in his episode like JJ and Garcia were.

Him and Emily are definitely both Queer let’s be honest. After the whole business of Spencer’s addiction and anger towards her and the others he feels at some point they manage to become good friends and are able to talk about things. They’re like brother and sister.

Garcia definitely took him to a Pride Parade and made sure he got to experience the whole colourful ways of dressing. She also made sure to let him take breaks when he got overwhelmed. He doesn’t go all the time because loud parades aren’t really his thing but he appreciated her taking him and will occasionally go to them with her because he feels more comfortable with her.

Rossi didn’t really understand it at first and would occasionally say the wrong thing unintentionally but after a while and after the rest of the team kept explaining when he’d made a mistake he started to understand and become a supporter. He still doesn’t understand everything but Spencer appreciates him trying to understand and where’s he got to.

Hotch is already protective of his team so if he found out someone was being a bigot towards his son friend he’s going to be pissed.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #diana reid #ethan criminal minds #spencer x ethan #maeve donovan #maeve x spencer #moreid #morgan x reid #sean hotchner #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #pride #pride month #happy pride 🌈 #lgbt #lgbtqa

[house-of-slayterr]

Criminal Minds Incorrect Quotes:

Hotch: Damn, the power went out.

Y/N: Don’t worry, I got this.

Y/N: *shakes rapidly and starts to light up*

Hotch: What-?

Y/N: I swallowed a glow stick!

Hotch, on the verge of tears: WHY WOULD YOU-

Derek , throwing their head into Y/N's lap: Tell me I'm pretty!

Y/N, lovingly stroking their hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.

Y/N: I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers.

Derek : Y/N, for the last time, we’re at a funeral.

Garcia : You spent all our money on THIS??

Y/N, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

Garcia : Treat spiders the way you want to be treated.

Y/N: Killed without hesitation.

The Team: 👀 *blink blink*

JJ: Life is like Y/N. It's short.

Y/N: Where are you going?

JJ: To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide on the way.

Y/N: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Emily :

Emily : Why are you eating dirt?

Y/N: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

An: Fucking Cannon

Emily : Don’t preach to me about romance, Y/N. I had a three-way in a hot-air balloon.

Rossi, looking at their reflection: Now, that's rubbish. Who's that supposed to be?

Y/N: Well, that's you.

Rossi: Me?! Is that what I look like?

Y/N: You don't know?

Rossi: Busy day.

Rossi: Well, Y/N and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Rossi: That's right... We kissed!

Spencer : *Answers phone.* Hello?

Y/N: It's Y/N.

Spencer : What did they do this time?

Y/N: No, it's me, Spencer . It's actually me.

Spencer : What did you do this time?

Spencer : Are you an ‘arr’ pirate or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate?

Y/N: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

Spencer : I find it very unseemly of Garcia to start dating again. Isn't the customary period of mourning 10 years?

Y/N: Die. Let's find out.

Garcia : Who knew getting in trouble would be so impossible?

Spencer : I gotta give you credit, Y/N. You make it look easy.

Y/N: Years of practice.

Hotch : Sorry, I'm late to the party. I've been doing things.

Y/N, entering in an unbuttoned shirt: I got caught up doing things too.

Rossi: Wow, Hotch was late too! What a coincidence!

Y/N: So what’s the plan?

Rossi: I don’t know. You’re smart, *points at Hotch * they’re mean, come up with something.

Y/N: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Spencer : Can everyone in this godforsaken group please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"?

Elle: Ya know... it might be.

Y/N: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon?

Elle: We're chopsticks!

Y/N: Well... that's cute!

Y/N: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly?

Spencer : No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

Emily : For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Y/N, Spencer , & Derek : Okay.

Emily : If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Y/N: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Spencer : Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Derek : Bold of you to assume I can die.

JJ, texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like?

Y/N: *Sends a picture of of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside*

Emily : *Sends a picture of a shot glass with an Apple poorly drawn inside*

Garcia : *Sends picture of person dunking a Basketball into the hoop but replaced the basketball with a poorly resized apple*

JJ: I hate all of you.

Spencer : Time for plan G.

Y/N: Don’t you mean plan B?

Spencer : No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties.

Rossi: What about plan D?

Spencer : Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Hotch : What about plan E?

Spencer : I’m hoping not to use it. Derek dies in plan E.

Derek: I like plan E.

An: I didn’t include Gideon because fuck that guy!

#criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds #criminal minds incorrect quotes #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #jj criminal minds #penelope garcia #elle greenaway #criminal minds x reader #david rossi

[paisholotus]

Aesthetics

#black reader #black writers #black tumblr #self post #tumblelog #black girls #black representation #poc reader #poc writer #black excellence #criminal minds #criminal minds x black reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x black reader #derek morgan #derek morgan x black reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x black reader #jennifer jereau #Jennifer jereau x black reader #Lovely Attraction #paisholotus

[the-au-thor]

Little Witch | Chapter 5

A/N: It has been a while, hasn't it? I hope you like this one. I like it, our cuties are showing more colours.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

words: 5k

Warning: Read this before reading the chapter pretty please!

Tag list: @cultish-corner @wittle-bunny420

⇜ ⇝

"You can Trust me..."

Chapter 5

Matilda sat on her favorite little chair, sipping on a freshly made milkshake; her tiny nose was red, and her eyes still somewhat swollen and teary. He had been watching her for over thirty minutes, and when she finally calmed down, he offered her a milkshake as compensation for the pain the girl had endured. A pipe had burst: the building was somewhat old, and he knew he should have called a plumber over two years ago, but back then he barely slept in the apartment; he had no life apart from work, which consumed most of his time, so he didn't think fixing the barely used pipes was a priority on his to-do list. He reproached himself for that when that morning, after waking up and turning on the kitchen faucet, the pipe gave way and flooded the entire apartment. Matilda, of course, with her curious childish nature as her main driving force, wanted to rush to see the spectacle and fell to her knees on the cold ceramic kitchen floor, hitting her legs and arms in the process. Spencer felt like shooting himself just upon hearing the small whimper that followed uncontrollable crying. He didn't call an ambulance, he didn't call J.J for advice. No; he called you. When you answered, Spencer could hear laughter on the other end, a man laughing, and he could sense unintelligible background conversations. Nevertheless, you promised to be there as soon as you could. Spencer asked you to drive slowly; he didn't want to be responsible for two accidents that day.

He sipped his coffee, and for a few seconds, his eyes scanned the room. Everything was quiet, but the remnants of a disaster that had occurred there lingered.

The doorbell rang, and Spencer looked at Matilda as he got up.

 "Mom's here. Stay there, okay, little witch?" he asked, receiving a mischievous smile from his daughter. He smiled back amused, shaking his head, because he knew that the moment he turned around, the little one would tiptoe to reach for his coffee cup and sneak a sip before he checked her from the door.

When he opened the door, he revealed the most beautiful woman in a turquoise cocktail dress. You looked at him concerned, your fingers closing around the strap of your pale pink purse, and you pressed your lips covered in a kind of glazed gloss that Spencer identified as lip gloss. You never wore lip gloss, and he found himself staring at your lips intently for no apparent reason. It was that cupid's bow. He was sure it was just that. He forced himself to raise his eyes to yours and take a step back to let you in.

Your eyes danced around the room, seeing the piles of wet books and the dampness in some corners of the wooden floor with curiosity and dismay. You noticed the red rain boots Matilda wore, still swinging her feet, and you looked back at Spencer.

"What happened?"

He scratched his neck.

"It was the pipe," then he hurried to clarify, "B-but it's all under control, it just broke because it's old. I called the plumber, and he'll be here in an hour to fix everything.  But Matikde, she-uh, she fell and couldn't stop crying and..."

You stopped him, showing the palm of your hand with seriousness. Spencer swallowed hard, sure that you would be upset. He understood; he was supposed to take care of Matilda, and he hadn't been able to. However, silently, you approached Matilda, crouching down to her level in your dress and taking her shoulders. You smiled at her as you lovingly ran your fingers through her hair.

 "Hello, darling."

"Hi," she murmured, chewing on a carrot stick.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Matilda's eyes went from Spencer to you and back. "There was a loud noise, water everywhere, and I fell. I wanted to help Daddy."

You nodded with a smile.

 "Are you okay?" Matilda nodded, bringing her juice glass to her mouth and then raising her thumb. You chuckled. "I see Daddy used the Snoopy band-aids you like, and those are some very nice boots, by the way. Very appropriate," you said, standing up and patting her chin before turning to look at Spencer.

You walked toward him, placing your hands on your hips.

"She's not injured, and she seems to have a clear understanding of what happened. Ignorance leads to fear, not knowledge. And she knows perfectly well that everything is fine," you murmured to Spencer, who let out a sigh of relief.

"I-I should have..."

"You did what you had to do," you cut him off immediately, knowing exactly where Spencer's hesitations were leading. "You handled a normal disaster and an injured child perfectly; she just scratched her knee and probably has a bruise on her arms; all kids go through falls like this, it won't kill or traumatize her."

Spencer clicked his tongue. "Well, we won't know that for a couple more years."

Spencer saw you smile incredulously. "Spencer, this has to change."

He nodded.

 "I know. The plumber is coming, and I promise this incident won't happen again."

You frowned.

 "I'm not talking about that, Spencer; it was an accident. I mean this," you looked around and saw a bed cushion on the couch and a blanket. "Matilda came into your life almost a year ago, and you're still sleeping on the couch," you walked to his kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "You need adult food. There are only snacks here for a spoiled little girl," you took out a pink ice cream bar and approached Spencer to place it on his knuckles. "This looks bad, how did you get this?" you asked worriedly, observing the scratches on his skin.

"Trying to stop the disaster; it's just a scrape, it's nothing."

"Spencer, I'm worried about you," you admitted, hugging his hand and placing the ice cream bar on his skin.

"You're worried about me," he repeated ironically, and you raised your eyebrows, frowning.

"You're not sleeping well, you're obsessed with this Diana clinical study issue, and you're overloading yourself with work," you pointed out with concern. "You have to understand that a facility might be the best for your mother right now."

Spencer withdrew his hand from your grasp almost urgently and looked at you with some severity, something you had never received from him, making you feel like a scolded child.

"You have no idea what it means to know that the time you have with your mother is limited. I could lose her at any minute. If there's any study that reduces the possibility, even by a minimal percentage, of her condition advancing so rapidly, then I'll accept it. It's my decision."

You looked at him wide-eyed. He had never spoken to you like that, but you had never meddled in any of his affairs, so it was fair for him to feel somewhat cornered. So you left the ice cream back in the refrigerator and raised your hands in a gesture of peace.

"Okay. I didn't say anything," you pushed your hair back, making your earrings tinkle with the movement.

Spencer then saw the rest of you. Apart from your dress and your gloss-covered lips. He saw the rest of your makeup, your pink heels, and the jewelry adorning you. He didn't need you to tell him to know: you had been on a date. He swallowed hard, trying to relax the muscles of his jaw.

He knew the signs; a rise in testosterone and cortisol. The feeling of anger and vulnerability. Dry mouth, sweaty hands, and the pain in the pit of the stomach, like when you feel a bad omen.

It was jealousy. Pure jealousy. Jealousy that he tried to cover with an uncomfortable smile, one that you already knew very well.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned by his intense scrutiny.

"Nothing," Spencer shrugged, making a small gesture with his lower lip.

"Nah-uh, what's wrong?" you insisted, approaching him so that Matilda couldn't hear them.

"It's just...you were on a date."

That declaration caught you off guard, or that's what Spencer captured from your expression.

"N-no, what? I wasn't on a date."

"It's Saturday, and you're dressed like you're going to church. And you don't go to church."

Spencer saw you moisten your lips as if he had insulted you.

"You're crazy if you think someone goes on a date dressed the same way they go to church," you replied without giving too many details, and then you moved away from him. "Do you want me to take Matilda so you can take care of everything here?" you asked.

That implication only made Spencer feel more irritated.

"Take care of? There's nothing to take care of. There's no more flooding, and the plumber is coming soon."

You glanced at him sideways and shook your head slightly, looking around again.

"Sure, you do," you murmured. "You have it all under control," you added, and then you walked to Matilda. You crouched down to her level and kissed her forehead.

Spencer saw you smile at her, and both of you touched the tips of your noses.

"Goodbye, little bug," she said goodbye to you, making you smile.

"Goodbye, little bug," you repeated, standing up to look at Spencer. Your gaze was hard and serious, and Spencer hated it. "I'll come pick her up tomorrow."

You began to walk out of the apartment, and Spencer looked at Matilda.

"Witchie, stay here, okay? I'll be right back," he spoke to Matilda, who calmly continued drinking her milkshake and swinging her feet in the air.

Spencer quickened his pace, opening the door to the hallway and descending the stairs. You were incredibly fast, and by the time he found you, you were unlocking your car and about to get in.

"Listen. Wait, I didn't mean to insult you," Spencer stopped you. "I was just making an observation."

"Yeah? Well, I did too. The thing is, Spencer, your observation was intrusive. And I wouldn't mind, but you do," you crossed your arms and looked at him defiantly. "Either we have the confidence to say what we think honestly and meddle in each other's lives, or we're strangers with a little girl in common. Damn, decide."

You huffed, putting on the sunglasses you took from your car's glove compartment.

"Let me see if I understand," Spencer blinked quickly, somewhat flustered. "Did you throw that sarcastic comment about me having it all under control just because I mentioned you were on a date?"

"Of course I did," you uncrossed your arms and looked at him challengingly. "This is me looking upset, for your information."

Spencer scratched his neck, not knowing what to do. Honestly, these situations left him somewhat handcuffed.

"I'm sorry. It was just a way to make conversation. Forgive me for wanting to know who could potentially be in my daughter's life."

He knew he had used the wrong words as soon as they left his mouth. Not only had he offended you, but he had also hurt you.

You adjusted your sunglasses over your eyes.

"The therapist you suggested for treating post-abortion trauma, remember? It's a rhetorical question, I know you remember," you clarified immediately when you saw him about to speak. "She gave me homework; on the days Matilda wasn't with me, I dedicated myself to me instead of cleaning her room or doing her laundry or thinking about her when I wasn't doing any of the other things. So I put on my best dress, went to lunch at a restaurant alone, and then went to the hair salon," you got into the car and before closing the door, you spoke one last time, "I'll come pick her up tomorrow."

Spencer tried to call you again, this time to apologize sincerely, but you were already too far away to hear him. It wasn't fair, and he knew it. It had been a long week, he had had a terrible night, then the incident with the pipe, and then he had unexpectedly been attacked by jealousy, and then he had taken it out on you. It hadn't been justified, and even if it were, he didn't have the authority to feel that way. He had been out of line, and he had hurt you in the process. You had many problems, and this one only added more stress to the situation.Then his mind began to race; What if, because of how angry you were, you started speeding and something happened to you? What if suddenly you regressed all the progress you had made just because he had a very tough case and jealousy stronger than his reasoning? And if suddenly all that was left of him in Spencer's life was Matilda?

He knew the train of thought, but incredibly he had never experienced it until that moment. Discovering everything that had happened a few minutes ago was as surprising as it was terrifying. So he called the only person capable of understanding him and providing a logical solution when his brain was too overwhelmed and tired to fix the problems it caused itself; J.J.

His best friend arrived almost at the same time the plumber finished repairing his plumbing system and was about to leave. She had brought the kids so they could spend some time with Matilda while they sat down to discuss their tragic personal life and try to find some answer to their internal predicament.

"It's not really that complicated, Spence," his friend hugged the tea cup he had offered her and gave him one of her sympathetic looks. "You messed up and you need to apologize."

"I really don't understand what happened; it was like I couldn't stop saying or doing everything wrong. I was inconsiderate and prejudiced. It's like suddenly I wanted to attack her before she attacked me."

J.J. nodded thoughtfully and then spoke.

"Do you think she would attack you?" she asked without expecting an answer. "I know you're reserved, and she's the same." J.J. pointed out accurately; she had known Spencer for almost her entire life and had observed you very well (she needed to make sure you were a good person and wouldn't hurt Spencer). "It's going to be hard for you to talk about things even if they're not that important. It's the survival instinct. But honestly, I don't think she'll be mad at you forever," she concluded relaxed. "Listen, what about this? You're going to talk to her now, and Will and I will take Matilda with the kids to the park," she offered, causing Spencer's gaze to brighten.

"Are you serious?" he asked doubtfully. "Do you think it's a good idea?"

"I know if you don't fix this today, you won't be able to sleep tonight."

Spencer looked at her remorsefully and softened his voice when he admitted he was afraid that nothing would be like it was before he ruined it with his attitude.

J.J. watched him, Spencer knew what she was doing because he had done it a thousand times before. She was reading him, and it didn't take effort because she knew him well.

"What?"

J.J. lowered her gaze for a few seconds and then spoke seriously.

"Nothing. Just that if you feel something for her, you know you can tell her, right?"

That caused Spencer to wrinkle his nose and deny too quickly for J.J. not to notice.

"J.J. maybe it can be overlooked but I had a daughter with her sister."

"And her sister is no longer here," she reminded him. "Mela is gone, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind the two most important people to Matilda being together. I'm just saying, if you feel something, no matter how small, it's something worth exploring."

Spencer decided to ignore that advice because if he responded, he would tell his best friend that what she was saying was a terrible idea, and he didn't want to offend anyone else. But at least he accepted J.J.'s offer. When she and the kids took Matilda with them, he decided to get up and go to your apartment. He didn't like driving, but since he found out about Matilda's existence, he knew it would be much harder for him to transfer from one place to another on the subway.

He knocked on your door a couple of times, trying not to be insistent. Maybe you weren't home. Maybe you just don't want to see him. He repeated to himself that he shouldn't interfere, but J.J.'s words kept repeating in his head and didn't allow him to obey the mantra he had forced himself to follow. He sighed when he realized he had gone there in vain and would probably spend the whole night thinking about his argument with you. He turned his back to your door just as it opened. When he turned around, he found you in a bathrobe with your hair hidden under a tangled towel. You looked at him for a moment. You didn't have that makeup on anymore. Still, for a few seconds, Spencer's eyes remained fixed on that cupid's bow, and he grunted slightly annoyed with J.J. for opening her mouth.

You opened the door fully as you adjusted your robe uncomfortably. Your feet could barely be seen, but Spencer had the feeling that you felt naked. And if he was honest, he had the same feeling.

"Matilda?"

"J just passed by and invited her to the park. I thought it would be good for her to play with the kids and distract herself a bit."

She nodded gently.

"Come in. I'm going to put on some clothes," she invited him in and disappeared into the apartment.

Spencer walked into the living room, closing the front door behind him. He was relieved because although the situation was somewhat tense, it wasn't the complete disaster he had feared in various ways on his way to your apartment. The place smelled of coffee, as if you had just turned on the machine. He saw clothes scattered on the couch and a tower of delicately folded clothes, knowing you were organizing Matilda's clean clothes. He felt horrible; you were doing exactly the opposite of what your therapist had suggested, and that was probably his fault.

As he waited, he decided to organize his thoughts by finishing your task. After a few minutes, he had made progress with most of it and felt your steps approaching. You had put on mid-thigh shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Your hair was styled but still wet, and you approached him with no definite expression on your face, making it difficult for Spencer to figure out how you felt. You started folding clothes silently with him, and then you cleared your throat.

"You must forgive me. I lost my temper over something silly and I shouldn't keep pressing you about it," she apologized softly.

Spencer put one of Matilda's dance dresses aside and looked at you with a furrowed brow.

"Please don't apologize," he asked in the same tone you used. You raised your gaze to meet his. "I was completely selfish and should have considered my words better. It's not my business what you decide to do with your free days. And I know you would never do anything that would affect Matilda."

"Or you," she replied quickly. "Sooner or later, I would tell you about my therapies; after all, I got that help because of you. You've been my main support in this since you found out about my miscarriage. I know you don't believe it, but I need you in this," you moistened your lips, looking down at the floor; only God knew how much it cost you to admit something like that. "I only have you guys."

Spencer knew what you meant, and he knew that somehow it was a tremendous breakthrough to say that out loud.

"You guys too, you know? If I hadn't come to apologize, I probably wouldn't sleep tonight."

You sighed and walked to the hallway table. A small wooden piece of furniture that looked old but well preserved. From one of its drawers, you pulled out a thick file with a bunch of medical papers inside and handed it to Spencer.

"I'll show you what's been bothering me if you tell me what's been bothering you," you tried to find a middle ground, causing Spencer to be surprised; he probably saw that feeling on his face because you half-smiled. "I know something happened; you had a case that kept you ou of reach for days, and suddenly Penelope is back at her house with her cat and succulents," you tilted your head then, looking at him as if seeing through him, but you didn't mention it. "I suspect you've had too much coffee this afternoon. But the machine just finished brewing a pot, and I baked this banana eggless brownie recipe. Let's see how it turns out. Want some?" you offered, walking to your kitchen.

Your apartment was totally opposite to Spencer's apartment. Everything was more colorful, brighter, and tidier. Spencer observed the photographs arranged on the wall next to the kitchen door. They didn't seem to have a sorting criterion, and everything pointed to the fact that you had tried to be creative with sizes and shapes, scattering the frames and photographs randomly. Somehow, it looked really good, he noticed just before you came back from the kitchen holding a wooden tray with cups and saucers arranged for both of you. You smiled at him and walked to the living room, placing the tray on the coffee table. You put on some music, a band from the Philippines you were obsessed with these days. Spencer had noticed that you were prolific when it came to music; you made a specific playlist for everything, and you always kept your space near the stereo well maintained. Spencer sat down in front of you and watched as you put one of your fluffy cushions on the rug and sat on it to be at the height of the coffee table. He had also noticed that you did that often; you loved the floor, being barefoot, and wearing shorts with oversized shirts. And he knew you did it for no other purpose than comfort, but he knew you took off your bras when you were at home. He noticed it, and he had discovered himself too aware of it. He tried, of course, not to be affected by it and ignore it. But he liked seeing you like that, and not in a corrupt sense. He liked seeing you comfortable and in your element; it meant you trusted him.

Spencer opened the folder in his hands and discovered all your medical history, detailing your entire fertility journey; from hormone injections, egg retrieval, and every in vitro. He hated seeing Jacob's name in most of them, then he saw the names of the anonymous donors, and he honestly didn't know which was worse anymore. He was going crazy; but every irrational stitch of jealousy disappeared when he saw the records of your losses; you had gone through it all in complete silence. That's when he understood why your mother was so worried that you hadn't started a family; because she knew it tormented you.

"Tragic, huh?" you asked, taking the tray with coffee and brownies with you. You left it on the coffee table and sat on your rug, waiting for Spencer to follow you. "I didn't know how persistent I was until I found out my body didn't want to cooperate with my plans," you admitted and then furrowed your brow with regret. "I don't know if I can do this again; looking for a donor, waiting to retrieve my eggs, and seeing which one of them wins the viability race," you admitted, sounding a bit exhausted.

Spencer furrowed his brow thoughtfully, sitting on the rug somewhat awkwardly; he wasn't used to it.

"Maybe you could rest for a bit; let your body heal, and you'll see that in a couple of months things will look different," he tried to encourage you. "I've heard from many people that they suddenly stop trying, and then they get pregnant."

You half-smiled with humor. There were a lot of counterarguments accumulating in your head, but still, you decided to give yourself a break on the subject. You leaned your back against the feet of your sofa, still comfortably seated on your rug.

"Your turn."

Spencer knew what you meant; it's not that he didn't want to tell you anything, in fact, he had been engulfed by a deep anxiety to open his heart to you. He wanted you to know him, but he was also afraid. He knew there were parts of him that were terrifying, and he wouldn't blame you if, upon knowing them, you wanted to run as far away from him as possible.

"Penelope is out of danger, as you know, and we stopped some kind of black widow by pretending to be a husband who wanted... you know: to get rid of his wife."

Spencer could see a bunch of different feelings pass through your gaze, from relief to confusion, ending with a furrowed brow of concern.

"How are you?" you asked then, "I imagine to fix something so big, you had to work miracles, huh?"

He began to feel increasingly tense. Beads of sweat began to announce themselves on his forehead, and he suddenly felt an urge to run away. But there was no way he wouldn't respond to your question. He had already committed to revealing the reason for his distress, and he couldn't back down.

"Her name is Cat Adams; we met at Harry & Glenn's. And yes, she saw through me perfectly. I had never felt so..."

You furrowed your brow as you watched him try to find an appropriate word.

"Vulnerable," you tried to help him, earning a nod from Spencer.

"Yes; she just knew how to anticipate almost every one of my moves."

"How did you defeat her?"

"Playing with her."

Now you seemed more confused than before.

"Playing?"

"She's a narcissistic serial killer who hates men; any chance she had to make time and prove she's better than me, she'd take it," he explained, "and I gave it to her: a game. Part of me regrets giving her so much information about my life."

This time concern shone in your eyes, as if suddenly you were on guard ready to attack. Your shoulders tensed, and you stretched quickly.

"You told her about Matilda?"

"Darn it, no. Of course, I wouldn't give someone as dangerous as her that kind of information. No; I talked about mom."

That seemed to relieve you, but it certainly didn't remove the worry from your gaze.

"About Diana? That must have killed you," you didn't say it accusingly, rather sadly. As if somehow you could feel Spencer's pain every time he talked about his mother.

"I had to do it, and that saved a lot of people," Spencer justified himself. "I don't expect you to understand what I do. I know you'll think that by doing this, I'm putting myself in danger, that it was a huge mistake..."

You shook your head and then nodded, presenting yourself with a dilemma.

"I don't understand what you do, that's true, but I understand why you do it. I've thought many times about it: if I had your courage

 and talents, I don't know if I'd think about doing anything else."

"Yes, but that was when I didn't know I was a father."

You nodded firmly and got up to walk to him. You sat down beside him and looked him directly in the eyes.

"And now that you know, you have more reasons to do what you do. This little girl we both raised is going to grow up, and as she does, she'll feel less afraid to go out into the world; and you know the worst of that world. That's why you go out, you go out and put yourself in danger. You go out and investigate. And you suffer and expose yourself. And you feel vulnerable because you want to save a lot of people," you made a small pause to take his hand. "A lot of people and Matilda."

Spencer watched you; concern had been replaced by a determined gleam in your eyes; as if you were proud of him. And he didn't feel worthy of that.

"I'll stop when you say I should," he announced, and he realized for the first time in his life that the prospect of leaving his job didn't scare him.

You furrowed your brow and let go of his hand to rest both on his shoulders.

"The only person who can ask you to leave your job and whom you should listen to will be Matilda. Not me. I would never ask you to leave it. And I suspect our beautiful girl will never ask you either. She's your biggest fan," you admitted and then loosened your grip with a question in your gaze. "That crazy, Cat Adams... she hurt more than your ego, didn't she? She was able to hurt your feelings, right?" you asked, and that seemed to pierce through Spencer.

You could see through him too, but Cat was dangerous, and for a fraction of a second, he had to admit that he liked that someone read him, that someone saw his distress and concern. When he admitted that out loud, he almost immediately regretted it. But you didn't seem to judge him. You watched him for a few seconds, and then you hugged him tightly, your heart breaking for him.

You hadn't realized Spencer was so alone. He needed to be heard and share the heavy burdens he had been carrying alone. A criminal. For God's sake, a criminal made him realize that. Of course, that would cause instability and unease in him.

"It's okay, Spencer," you murmured, "Thank you for trusting me; I promise everything will be fine," you assured him, massaging his back, "You can trust me; I really regret you feeling so alone."

Yes, that was strange — he thought — he didn't feel like that anymore. And it only took one hug from you.Spencer looked at her remorsefully and softened his voice when he admitted he was afraid that nothing would be like it was before he ruined it with his attitude.

J.J. watched him, Spencer knew what she was doing because he had done it a thousand times before. She was reading him, and it didn't take effort because she knew him well.

"What?"

J.J. lowered her gaze for a few seconds and then spoke seriously.

"Nothing. Just that if you feel something for her, you know you can tell her, right?"

That caused Spencer to wrinkle his nose and deny too quickly for J.J. not to notice.

"J.J. maybe it can be overlooked but I had a daughter with her sister."

"And her sister is no longer here," she reminded him. "Mela is gone, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind the two most important people to Matilda being together. I'm just saying, if you feel something, no matter how small, it's something worth exploring."

Spencer decided to ignore that advice because if he responded, he would tell his best friend that what she was saying was a terrible idea, and he didn't want to offend anyone else. But at least he accepted J.J.'s offer. When she and the kids took Matilda with them, he decided to get up and go to your apartment. He didn't like driving, but since he found out about Matilda's existence, he knew it would be much harder for him to transfer from one place to another on the subway.

He knocked on your door a couple of times, trying not to be insistent. Maybe you weren't home. Maybe you had gone back to your appointment with your donor or just with someone else. He repeated to himself that he shouldn't interfere, but J.J.'s words kept repeating in his head and didn't allow him to obey the mantra he had forced himself to follow. He sighed when he realized he had gone there in vain and would probably spend the whole night thinking about his argument with you. He turned his back to your door just as it opened. When he turned around, he found you in a bathrobe with your hair hidden under a tangled towel. You looked at him for a moment. You didn't have that makeup on anymore. Still, for a few seconds, Spencer's eyes remained fixed on that cupid's bow, and he grunted slightly annoyed with J.J. for opening her mouth.

You opened the door fully as you adjusted your robe uncomfortably. Your feet could barely be seen, but Spencer had the feeling that you felt naked. And if he was honest, he had the same feeling.

"Matilda?"

"J.J just passed by and invited her to the park. I thought it would be good for her to play with the kids and distract herself a bit."

She nodded gently.

"Come in. I'm going to put on some clothes," she invited him in and disappeared into the apartment.

Spencer walked into the living room, closing the front door behind him. He was relieved because although the situation was somewhat tense, it wasn't the complete disaster he had feared in various ways on his way to your apartment. The place smelled of coffee, as if you had just turned on the machine. He saw clothes scattered on the couch and a tower of delicately folded clothes, knowing you were organizing Matilda's clean clothes. He felt horrible; you were doing exactly the opposite of what your therapist had suggested, and that was probably his fault.

As he waited, he decided to organize his thoughts by finishing your task. After a few minutes, he had made progress with most of it and felt your steps approaching. You had put on mid-thigh shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Your hair was styled but still wet, and you approached him with no definite expression on your face, making it difficult for Spencer to figure out how you felt. You started folding clothes silently with him, and then you cleared your throat.

"You must forgive me. I lost my temper over something silly and I shouldn't keep pressing you about it," she apologized softly.

Spencer put one of Matilda's dance dresses aside and looked at you with a furrowed brow.

"Please don't apologize," he asked in the same tone you used. You raised your gaze to meet his. "I was completely selfish and should have considered my words better. It's not my business what you decide to do with your free days. And I know you would never do anything that would affect Matilda."

"Or you," she replied quickly. "Sooner or later, I would tell you about my therapies; after all, I got that help because of you. You've been my main support in this since you found out about my miscarriage. I know you don't believe it, but I need you in this," you moistened your lips, looking down at the floor; only God knew how much it cost you to admit something like that. "I only have you guys."

Spencer knew what you meant, and he knew that somehow it was a tremendous breakthrough to say that out loud.

"You guys too, you know? If I hadn't come to apologize, I probably wouldn't sleep tonight."

You sighed and walked to the hallway table. A small wooden piece of furniture that looked old but well preserved. From one of its drawers, you pulled out a thick file with a bunch of medical papers inside and handed it to Spencer.

"I'll show you what's been bothering me if you tell me what's been bothering you," you tried to find a middle ground, causing Spencer to be surprised; he probably saw that feeling on his face because you half-smiled. "I know something happened; you had a case that kept you ou of reach for days, and suddenly Penelope is back at her house with her cat and succulents," you tilted your head then, looking at him as if seeing through him, but you didn't mention it. "I suspect you've had too much coffee this afternoon. But the machine just finished brewing a pot, and I baked this banana eggless brownie recipe. Let's see how it turns out. Want some?" you offered, walking to your kitchen.

Your apartment was totally opposite to Spencer's apartment. Everything was more colorful, brighter, and tidier. Spencer observed the photographs arranged on the wall next to the kitchen door. They didn't seem to have a sorting criterion, and everything pointed to the fact that you had tried to be creative with sizes and shapes, scattering the frames and photographs randomly. Somehow, it looked really good, he noticed just before you came back from the kitchen holding a wooden tray with cups and saucers arranged for both of you. You smiled at him and walked to the living room, placing the tray on the coffee table. You put on some music, a band from the Philippines you were obsessed with these days. Spencer had noticed that you were prolific when it came to music; you made a specific playlist for everything, and you always kept your space near the stereo well maintained. Spencer sat down in front of you and watched as you put one of your fluffy cushions on the rug and sat on it to be at the height of the coffee table. He had also noticed that you did that often; you loved the floor, being barefoot, and wearing shorts with oversized shirts. And he knew you did it for no other purpose than comfort, but he knew you took off your bras when you were at home. He noticed it, and he had discovered himself too aware of it. He tried, of course, not to be affected by it and ignore it. But he liked seeing you like that, and not in a corrupt sense. He liked seeing you comfortable and in your element; it meant you trusted him.

Spencer opened the folder in his hands and discovered all your medical history, detailing your entire fertility journey; from hormone injections, egg retrieval, and every in vitro. He hated seeing Jacob's name in most of them, then he saw the names of the anonymous donors, and he honestly didn't know which was worse anymore. He was going crazy; but every irrational stitch of jealousy disappeared when he saw the records of your losses; you had gone through it all in complete silence. That's when he understood why your mother was so worried that you hadn't started a family; because she knew it tormented you.

"Tragic, huh?" you asked, taking the tray with coffee and brownies with you. You left it on the coffee table and sat on your rug, waiting for Spencer to follow you. "I didn't know how persistent I was until I found out my body didn't want to cooperate with my plans," you admitted and then furrowed your brow with regret. "I don't know if I can do this again; looking for a donor, waiting to retrieve my eggs, and seeing which one of them wins the viability race," you admitted, sounding a bit exhausted.

Spencer furrowed his brow thoughtfully, sitting on the rug somewhat awkwardly; he wasn't used to it.

"Maybe you could rest for a bit; let your body heal, and you'll see that in a couple of months things will look different," he tried to encourage you. "I've heard from many people that they suddenly stop trying, and then they get pregnant."

You half-smiled with humor. There were a lot of counterarguments accumulating in your head, but still, you decided to give yourself a break on the subject. You leaned your back against the feet of your sofa, still comfortably seated on your rug.

"Your turn."

Spencer knew what you meant; it's not that he didn't want to tell you anything, in fact, he had been engulfed by a deep anxiety to open his heart to you. He wanted you to know him, but he was also afraid. He knew there were parts of him that were terrifying, and he wouldn't blame you if, upon knowing them, you wanted to run as far away from him as possible.

"Penelope is out of danger, as you know, and we stopped some kind of black widow by pretending to be a husband who wanted... you know: to get rid of his wife."

Spencer could see a bunch of different feelings pass through your gaze, from relief to confusion, ending with a furrowed brow of concern.

"How are you?" you asked then, "I imagine to fix something so big, you had to work miracles, huh?"

He began to feel increasingly tense. Beads of sweat began to announce themselves on his forehead, and he suddenly felt an urge to run away. But there was no way he wouldn't respond to your question. He had already committed to revealing the reason for his distress, and he couldn't back down.

"Her name is Cat Adams; we met at Harry & Glenn's. And yes, she saw through me perfectly. I had never felt so..."

You furrowed your brow as you watched him try to find an appropriate word.

"Vulnerable," you tried to help him, earning a nod from Spencer.

"Yes; she just knew how to anticipate almost every one of my moves."

"How did you detain her?"

"Playing with her."

Now you seemed more confused than before.

"Playing?"

"She's a narcissistic serial killer who hates men; any chance she had to make time and prove she's better than me, she'd take it," he explained, "and I gave it to her: a game. Part of me regrets giving her so much information about my life."

This time concern shone in your eyes, as if suddenly you were on guard ready to attack. Your shoulders tensed, and you stretched quickly.

"You told her about Matilda?"

"Oh, no. Of course, I wouldn't give someone as dangerous as her that kind of information. No; I talked about mom."

That seemed to relieve you, but it certainly didn't remove the worry from your gaze.

"About Diana? That must have killed you," you didn't say it accusingly, rather sadly. As if somehow you could feel Spencer's pain every time he talked about his mother.

"I had to do it, and that saved a lot of people," Spencer justified himself. "I don't expect you to understand what I do. I know you'll think that by doing this, I'm putting myself in danger, that it was a huge mistake..."

You shook your head and then nodded, presenting yourself with a dilemma.

"I don't understand what you do, that's true, but I understand why you do it. I've thought many times about it: if I had your courage

 and talents, I don't know if I'd think about doing anything else."

"Yes, but that was when I didn't know I was a father."

You nodded firmly and got up to walk to him. You sat down beside him and looked him directly in the eyes.

"And now that you know, you have more reasons to do what you do. This little girl we are raising is going to grow up, and as she does, she'll feel less afraid to go out into the world; and you know the worst of that world. That's why you go out, you go out and put yourself in danger. You go out and investigate. And you suffer and expose yourself. And you feel vulnerable because you want to save a lot of people," you made a small pause to take his hand. "A lot of people and Matilda."

And you, he thought swiftly.

Spencer watched you; concern had been replaced by a determined gleam in your eyes; as if you were proud of him. And he didn't feel worthy of that.

"I'll stop when you say I should," he announced, and he realized for the first time in his life that the prospect of leaving his job didn't scare him.

You furrowed your brow and let go of his hand to rest both on his shoulders.

"The only person who can ask you to leave your job and whom you should listen to will be Matilda. Not me. I would never ask you to leave it. And I suspect our beautiful girl will never ask you either. She's your biggest fan," you admitted and then loosened your grip with a question in your gaze. "That crazy, Cat Adams... she hurt more than your ego, didn't she? She was able to hurt your feelings, right?" you asked, and that seemed to pierce through Spencer.

You could see through him too, but Cat was dangerous, and for a fraction of a second, he had to admit that he liked that someone read him, that someone saw his distress and concern. When he admitted that out loud, he almost immediately regretted it. But you didn't seem to judge him. You watched him for a few seconds, and then you hugged him tightly, your heart breaking for him.

You hadn't realized Spencer was so alone. He needed to be heard and share the heavy burdens he had been carrying alone. A criminal. For God's sake, a criminal made him realize that. Of course, that would cause instability and unease in him.

"It's okay, Spencer," you murmured, "Thank you for trusting me; I promise everything will be fine," you assured him, massaging his back, "You can trust me; I really regret you feeling so alone."

Yes, that was strange — he thought — he didn't feel like that anymore. And it only took one hug from you.

#criminal minds #criminal minds au #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia

[gourdlorddgubes]

I wanna start writing again but I think i'm gonna start with bau groupchats or just individual textl/chats!!!

But if you have ideas or request please don't be afraid to drop it!! I ACCEPT FILTHY TOE CURLING SMUT IDEAS!! DROP IT AND I'LL WRITE THEM 🙇🏼‍♀️

Maybe i'll start writing for Emily Prentiss first!! We need more emily fics!!!!

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia #derek morgan #derek morgan x y/n #luke alvez

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Colored Bullets

Summary: BAU team x agent fem!reader. All fun and games until one of the BAU members gets shot... with a paintball.

WARNING: nothing besides mention of guns (paintball) and shooting, just a silly time with the BAU team 

found the gif somewhere round the web, so whoever created this credits to u :))

None of you knew how things ended this way. Not even someone who pranked death like Emily could explain the maroon smears that horrifyingly decorated every crooks and crannies in the bullpen.

"I don't think I can take it anymore," Spencer cried as he leaned his back against the foot of his desk, hiding under his once peaceful workplace.

A bruise was forming on his temple, and another by his neck. He was a mess. His hair flew out like a birds nest.

"You better not give up on me, Reid. Or I will shoot you myself." Emily growled, peeking out to fire a shot. Her ponytail was loose, dried yellow paint spreading on the left side of her head.

"What the fu—" Derek groaned from another end, also hiding under his desk. He felt the pang of Emily's bullet on his shoulder, wondering when everything went wrong.

In fact, all of you were taking shelter under your desks. Albeit, you sharing yours with JJ, who had a maniac smile on her face as she fired her gun in whatever direction she could.

The bullpen was painted red. A dead battlefield. God knows what the midnight janitor would think when he finds the place drowning with fired bullets and various bright paints.

And just before you were about to shoot Spencer's ugly crying face, Rossi swung the glass door open.

"I don't want to know." Rossi immediately stated.

All of the agents stood up, a special mention to Derek, who hit his head midway. You snorted at that, and continued a laugh when he glared at you.

Rossi's eyes roamed all over the bullpen, taking note of your bruised faces and paint-splattered vests. He looked at all of you disappointedly, "None of you can wait for tomorrow's paintball match?" He immediately knew that asking was a big mistake.

"Derek started it!" You roared immediately.

"What?! It was Emily! She shot me—" Derek pointed a finger towards the dark-haired woman.

Emily rolled her eyes, "I wouldn't have started it if JJ didn't pull the trigger and accidentally shot me." She air-quoted with her gun clutched under her ring and pinky finger.

JJ's jaw dropped, frowning her eyes at Emily. "It was an accident! Spencer was asking how to use the paintball gun." 

"And I regret it. I don't feel like joining the team tomorrow." Spencer placed his small gun on his desk and hooked his messenger bag over his shoulder. He survived worse before, but a war with his friends without hesitation was more traumatizing than being kidnapped.

And all of you began to blame each other like children, shouting over one another. Rossi winced at the sound of all of your voices. He couldn't believe that after three wives, the thing that made him want to smash his head on the wall, was all five of you.

“And I just had to ask.” Rossi muttered to himself, closing his eyes as he placed a hand over his forehead. He silently retreated back to his office.

But before he could even step on the first stair, a hard impact spread on his back. Rossi turned around with furrowed eyebrows. Someone did not just mess with his suit.

Everyone’s index fingers synchronously pointed towards you, a fake innocent look over your face as you held your paintball pistol.

"You will regret this, Kiddo." Rossi sped to his office to grab his paintball gun, simultaneously dodging your fires that ran after him.

And you finally got to shoot Spencer, much to everyone's enjoyment. He took his gun and shot you back, straight on your chest. “Oh, you’re on, smarty pants!” You scoffed, reloading your gun as fast as you could.

Meanwhile, Hotch just stepped out of the elevator, coming back from a meeting and unaware of what lies behind the double glass doors. “Of course, Jack. You can wear my vest for tomorrow’s paitball tournament.” He was about to walk in the bullpen when Penelope blocked him.

Hotch knitted his brows, giving her his signature stern confused look. "Save yourself. It's war in there." Penelope said in horror, peeking through the glass door and squealing at the sudden splatter of red paint right in front of her eyes.

#derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #david rossi #penelope garcia #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa spencer reid #ssa emily prentiss #ssa david rossi #ssa jennifer #criminalminds #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #imagine #spencerreid #emilyprentiss #bau x reader #criminal minds x reader