#this is the strangulation fic in case you didn’t know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multifandomlover01 · 9 days

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Not Technically Mine…But Still Unequivocally Mine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (not AFAB specific)

WC: ~2.9k

Warnings: reader is undercover bait, very scummy suspect, very uncomfy situation and dialogue, touching, Spencer is concerned for her safety, biological male reaction mention, strangulation mention but not depicted, the b word is used to describe the reader, he spits on her too

Summary: (based off a post by @hereforhalstead and fic semi-requested by @ribbongrll) Reader has to go undercover as bait to lure in a suspect, and Spencer is not happy about it. He’s very protective and almost caused the mission to not be completed

Note: I envisioned post prison Spencer for this so it’s like S13-15 (JJ and Luke are in here), also third person and idk what’s happening with the tenses. Also a bit repetitive? Bit annoying?

Spencer absolutely fucking hated it whenever he had to be in a club or a bar for a case. It didn’t matter how much time he had to spend in the building. He got anxious and overstimulated very quickly. The only thing that made it worse was when some guy flirted with his equally as anxious female coworker (who was also his best friend who he was also in love with). Every time a guy would flirt with her while she just stood there, uncomfortable and silent, his heart broke. He’d glare at the guy and if he still didn’t take that hint, say something. Luckily, this usually took care of any further interaction.

Apparently the only thing worse than some guy flirting with his best friend/crush was her being bait for a suspect. She was his exact type, physically speaking and personality wise. Spencer almost immediately objected when he saw the form fitting and revealing dress that JJ had helped her pick out. But he doubted he’d be able to convince Prentiss and Rossi to ditch the plan. It was the best one they had. At least Spencer got to go undercover with her as her date…although he didn’t know if this actually would make the situation better or worse.

He didn’t even notice that his hand was brushing against hers the whole ride. He also didn’t notice that he was sweating a little bit.

“You’d better not do that in the club…you’ll give us away.” She teases and he doesn’t know what she’s talking about until he is suddenly physically aware of the perspiration.

He chuckles. “I won’t. Don’t worry.” He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabs his face and neck.

They arrive at the club. He gets out of the vehicle and helps her out. He suppressed a groan when she tugs on her dress to futilely get it to cover more of her thighs. He gingerly grasps her hand and leads her inside.

“Remember…be your shy sweet self but not too reserved and reluctant because we need-”

“The suspect outside, yes, I know, Spence. We’ll be ok.” She chuckles as she looks at him.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He frowns.

“You think I want to get hurt.” She furrows her eyebrows.

“Of course not.” He shakes his head, smiling some. “But it’s my job to protect you and…I don’t wanna fail.”

“I have to let him get me outside, isolated and alone so that JJ and Luke can apprehend him. You can’t protect me once I’m on my own with him.” She states what he was trying not to think about. She was right, though, of course.

“Just…be careful, ok?” He squeezed her hand.

“I will, don’t worry.” She squeezed his back. “Hey, I’ve done better for longer on my field training that you have, remember?”

“I remember when you had to help me pass my test to still be qualified to carry a gun and be in the field.”

“And now you don’t even need my help. You’ve gotten better and I’m proud of you. There’s always room for improvement…even for me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Spencer still wasn’t sure about this whole situation as they took a seat at the bar at the club. There was only one seat available. Spencer thought about letting her take it as the lady while he stood but then an idea he liked struck him. He sat down on the bar stool, took a hold of her waist and hoisted her up into his lap. He held her tightly to him as he had his arms wrapped around her waist.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, slightly confused by his behavior.

“I’m your date. I’m being…friendly.”

“That’s not why.” She huffs slightly.

“Alright…I’m protecting you, then.” His breath tickles her ear.

“Do I have to be in your lap?”

“I would say that…yes, you do.” He said rather definitively.

They ordered drinks (he made sure to order her a virgin cocktail so she had no actual alcohol in her system, not only was this regulation for an undercover agent, but he knew the last thing he wanted was for her cognition to not be at 100%). They sipped their drinks as she remained in his lap.

Spencer remained vigilant to his surroundings when she had to be more subtle about it to maintain her “oblivious” undercover role. He was grateful that it made sense for a girl’s date to want to ward off any potential girl stealers. He was not so grateful that the suspect did not care about that (even if the whole point of being bait and undercover as a couple was to lure him in to apprehend him).

It didn’t escape her notice that he’d tighten his grip around her whenever any guy got particularly physically close to her for whatever reason (even if it was as innocuous as standing beside her at the bar to order drinks) even if they didn’t even glance at her, let alone talk to her.

“You can relax some, you know. The suspect is going to be much bolder. You don’t have to spike your poor heart rate over every little thing.”

“I care about you. I won’t have you getting hurt.”

“We went over this. I’m perfectly capable of-”

“I know, I know you are, ok? It’s not…it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s-”

“Excuse me…” An overly charming and soft voice says, cutting Spencer off.

Their eyes immediately flit over to the man that had suddenly appeared. Spencer’s blood runs cold when he realizes that this is the man that matches the descriptions that the bartenders and patrons had given.

Spencer tenses, gripping her hips tightly as he holds her to him.

“I was just at that table over there and couldn’t help notice this…vision of loveliness right here.” He smiles as his hand rests on her knee. She cringes. Spencer’s blood boils.

“Don’t touch her.” He says in a dangerously low tone.

“Oh come on…I’m not gonna hurt the little lady. I’m merely…admiring her.” He steps ever so closer.

“Back off.” Spencer says, or rather…he grits it out. His grip on her hips tightens and she’s starting to wonder if they’ll bruise if he grips any tighter or if he does so for long.

“Oh come on…don’t be such a hard ass. What do you say, darling? How’s about…you and I…ditch this guy and I’ll show you a real good time.” Spencer wishes he could punch that stupid smirk off his face and break his hand as it slides further up her thigh. She’s squirming in his lap, pressing back into him (which doesn’t help another situation).

“You won’t. She’s clearly uncomfortable. You should take a hint and piss off.”

While she is in actuality very uncomfortable around this man, she knows she needs to get him outside.

“Well I…” She forces herself to scoot a bit off of Spencer’s lap and closer to the man. Spencer doesn’t loosen the grip on her hips and pulls her back against him.

“See? The lady here does seem interested.” His smirk hasn’t disappeared as his fingers are now at the hem of her dress.

Spencer has to fight between his instinct to get her as far away from this man as possible and his recognition of the mission. He just glares at the man. Reluctantly, he keeps his mouth shut.

“That’s it…listen to your girl here. Come on, honey. He seems like a real fun guy but…I promise to show you a night you’ll never forget. You’ll feel things you’ve never felt before.”

She scoots off Spencer’s lap a bit and he reluctantly loosens his grip. The man wastes no time sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. She lets him lead her away. Spencer’s knuckles turn white against the bar counter as he sees the bastard caress her and then sees his hand move lower and squeeze her ass.

He just prays that she can keep herself safe with her training. She couldn’t wear a wire or anything. But he had one to inform JJ and Luke that they were on their way out to them. All he had to do was wait. He heard the confirmation that they’d made it outside and had been spotted by the agents placed there in the alley.

“Guys…tell me what’s going on.” Spencer murmurs into the mic.

“She’s fine. Just sit tight, Spence.” JJ tries to calm him down. It doesn’t work.

“Don’t tell me to just sit tight, JJ. I…I can’t just sit tight knowing she’s out there with that monster. You’ve got eyes on her. Please tell me she’s ok.” Spencer says pleadingly.

“She’s handling herself, man, ok? She’s capable.” Luke now tries to assuage Spencer’s fears. This also is not successful.

“That’s also not what I asked, Luke.”

Spencer hears Luke sigh. “He’s got her up against the alley wall, ok?”

“Well what’s he doing to her?”

“Spence-”

“What’s he doing?” Spencer insisted.

“Well he’s…fondling her…kissing her neck.”

“Jesus Christ…when are you guys gonna apprehend him? What if he hurts her?” Spencer is starting to get very concerned.

“We have to wait.”

“For what?! For him to strangle her?!”

“We need to wait until there is probable cause for an arrest. She’ll fend him off and he’ll push too far.”

“But how far? Does her dress have to be ripped? Does she have to be humiliated coming back in here?” Spencer was getting angry at his friends. They knew how much he cared about her. He didn’t often get like this.

“Just another minute or so, then we’ll go, ok?” Luke says, hoping again that this’ll calm him.

“Ok…only that…no longer. You can’t leave her with him for longer than that. Please…please protect her.” Spencer says softly.

“We will, Spence. We promise.”

“Thank you.” He sighs in relief.

It is indeed only another minute or two before go time, with JJ and Luke revealing themselves to the suspect. He is startled when two FBI agents with guns come out of the shadows. But before he can get angry and lash out at them, he turns that anger towards his potential victim.

“You…bitch!” He seethes, spitting in her face, causing her to gasp. This causes Luke to push him against the wall as he handcuffs him.

“Alright. That’s enough, buddy. We’re taking you in now.”

“You set me up? This was a set up?! I didn’t do anything! You pigs set me up!” He yells as Luke wrestled him over and into a squad car down at the end of the alley.

JJ comforts her briefly as she stands shaking slightly against the wall.

“Go back inside. Spence is quite anxious to see you.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, I bet.”

She wanders back inside the club, tugging her dress to get it back in place, wiping her smudged lipstick off, wiping the spit off as well.

Spencer is out of his seat like a rocket and bounding towards her the second he sees her enter the door she’d exited out of. He doesn’t say anything as he engulfs her in a tight embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re ok.” He whispered softly in her ear.

“I’m always ok.”

“You don’t have to be. It’s ok to not be ok.” He caressed her back.

“I know. But I’m ok.”

“What if…what if I’m not?” He holds her tightly to him. He buried his face in her neck.

“Why would you…not be ok? I’m…I’m fine.”

“You don’t understand, hon. This whole thing…has been near torturous for me. Watching that man…talk to you…flirt with you…touch you and knowing he was…” He’s shaking now and he doesn’t even realize it.

She caresses his back. “Hey…hey…it’s ok. I’m ok. It’s all over now.” She whispered softly.

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt. If that monster had hurt you…”

“Why don’t we get out of here, huh? I think we should go.”

“Fucking finally.” He groans as he wraps an arm around her waist and swiftly makes his way with her to the front exit of the club. He takes a nice deep breath once he’s exposed to the cool night air. He didn’t even realize how suffocating that environment was to him.

He helps her back into the vehicle as it’s brought around and still keeps her close to him as they head to the hotel to decompress for the night.

Once in the calm peaceful safety of the hotel room, he grabs his sleepwear from his bag and then gets hers for her as well. She had retreated to the bathroom to remove her makeup and take the dress off. Spencer enters the bathroom without knocking. He gets an eyeful of his best friend in her underwear and his face turns red.

“Oh um…I’ll just…leave these here. Sorry.” He puts her sleep wear on the counter and turns quickly to leave, shutting the door behind him.

He changes outside the bathroom in the room, still very embarrassed about his faux pas. He should’ve knocked. He just had so much on his mind at that moment that he’d completely forgotten to do it.

He occupied himself with a book as he sat up on the bed. His head lifts when he hears the bathroom door open. As beautiful as she’d looked in that dress and makeup, she looked infinitely more comfortable in her sleep wear and with no makeup. And because she seemed so comfortable and relaxed now, she somehow seemed even more radiant to him.

“Hey.” He says softly as he smiles at her. “Feeling better?”

“Much better. Thank you.” She smiles back at him as she sits on her own bed.

He looks over at her as she gets her own book out to relax. She goes to put her earbuds in her ear and he stops her. He knows she’s going to listen to music.

“You don’t have to put those in. You can just…play it from the phone.”

She looks over at him. “Really? You’re sure? I dunno how you’re gonna feel about some of the music.”

“It’s fine. I’ll listen to whatever you wanna listen to.” He shrugged. He very much wanted to relax and listen to music together with her instead of it seeming like they were doing it separately.

“Ok. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.” She chuckles as she puts her earbuds away and turns the volume up on her phone to prepare to play her music.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You say that now.” She smirks as she presses play.

Classical music starts to play.

“What do you mean you warned me? That’s just Mozart!” He exclaimed.

“For now.”

“Oh for now.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “What’s next…Wagner? Don’t get crazy now.”

“Oh you just wait, Reid…just you wait.”

“Don’t tell me you have Hans Zimmer on there. That’d be really crazy.” He joked.

“Something wrong with movie and tv soundtracks?”

“No, not at all! I love them too. I’m merely amused at what you consider crazy.”

His smile falls when metal music starts playing. She laughs at his confused expression.

“I told you I warned you!”

“Now I’m concerned about what you consider relaxing.” He raises his eyebrows.

“I can always put my earbuds in.” She offers, pointing to them.

“No…no. It’s fine. Then I’d just be concerned for your hearing.” He shakes his head.

“You’re awfully concerned about me a lot of the time.” She notes, pausing the music.

“Of course I am. You’re my best friend. I care about you.”

“Well yeah but…how much?” She queried.

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head.

She scoffs. “You know what I mean, genius. Now answer the question.”

“Well…um…I suppose that…the answer is…a lot.” His gaze is averted from her.

“Spencer…look at me please.” She requests softly.

He obeys and his gaze lifts to meet here. “Yes?” He asks softly.

“Enough to almost blow our chance of catching that scum?”

He chuckled sheepishly, remembering what he’d done. “Yeah…that much.”

She puts her book down and stands up, going over to his bed. He looks up at her as she stands in front of him. She smiles down at him as she reaches up to cup his face. He smiles back up at her, letting her touch him. He wasn’t bothered by her touch.

“You were really scared, weren’t you?” She asks softly.

“I was terrified.”

“Even though I can handle myself?”

“I know you can. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was…” he trails off and his gaze averts briefly.

“Yes?”

“I couldn’t rationalize it in my mind. I knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t seem to matter. I was still scared. I couldn’t calm down. All of my nerves were on edge.”

“But why? If you knew I’d be fine…why worry?”

“Because…I care about you…because…because I think I love you. No…that’s not…I-I know that I love you.”

“You love me? Really?” She smiles.

“Oh absolutely.” He smiled back. “I think I have for quite a while now, I just…I just didn’t know how to express that to you. I could never…find the right words.”

“You couldn’t find the right words?” She chuckles lightly.

“Believe it or not, no. But I’ve…I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.”

“Well…the great thing about feelings is…you don’t necessarily need words to express them.”

“You don’t?” He looked at her quizzically.

She shakes her head. “No. You don’t. Actions work just as well.”

“Act-”

She cuts him off for the first time ever by leaning down to kiss him softly. He smiles softly and presses into the kiss. He’s waited so long to feel her lips against his. And it’s just as wonderful as he imagined it would be.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

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emberfrostlovesloki · 7 months

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Unwanted Attention [Hotch x Reader]

Prompt: Having to travel to the middle of nowhere Ohio for a serial killer was bad enough, add to the fact that the local LEOs are looking a little too hard at JJ, Emily, and _y/n_ was seriously testing Aaron’s resolve. Lots of protective Hotch here! This is another @imagining-in-the-margins inspired fic for her Meet Cute Writing Challenge. I’m using the dialogue prompt: “Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”

Category: Angst/comfort - (mostly comfort I think).

Word Count: 5.8K

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence (serial killer - kills via strangulation but nothing explicit) unwanted physical touch (groping of the behind and pubic area) misogyny, sexism, the U.S. police, language, brief mention of intimacy.

A/N: Hi friends! I am very pleased with this one. I love writing Hotch with righteous anger. It just looks too damn good on him. I also love the duality of this man because one moment he is ready to bite someone’s head off and the next he only has eyes for you and he’s checking in and feeling guilty. You could read this story as a standalone or as a prequel to my story, Life can be Terrible, but At Least You're In It. (linked). I want to shout out @criminalskies for hyping me up while writing this. Last, if you enjoyed reading this, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - Levi

List with all stories

y/n = your name

_f/c_ = favorite color

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/h/c_ = yuur hair color

Walnut Creek Ohio, who on the team had heard of it? Well apart from Spencer, because apparently he’d read a United States Atlas Map one night when his insomnia was bothering him, and he had retained all the information about nearly every tiny town that existed in the States. Spencer was rambling off facts about the tiny town stating, “There are 908 residents in the town as of 2017. It’s shocking that a serial killer would target such a small community where everyone has to know everyone else.” y/n, JJ, and Reid were all at the coffee station filling up cups. y/n pulled out her _f/c_ thermos. She always made sure that anyone who wanted coffee got to go first because her reusable metal container took about half the pot. y/n had finally wisened up after Emily and Spencer kept complaining about the coffee getting lukewarm, or worse, cold while sitting on the plane. Now her coffee stayed hot for hours if need be. She had bought the teammates that relied as heavily on caffeine as she did as Holiday or birthday gifts and the thermoses were stored away in one of her closets of her apartment, ready to be taken out and wrapped at the right moment. Spencer’s comment pulled her back to the present moments and she replied, “Nothing can stop a person going bad I guess. Not even a small town.” This stopped Spencer's comments on the location of the team's most recent case, and he shifted gears to talk about the psychological development of those raised in rural environments versus those raised in urban areas. y/n continued to listen to Spencer as he spoke, even if she couldn’t always keep up with his mile-a-minute commentary. She listened because Reid was a fount of knowledge and often a comment he made and maybe didn’t even remember would be helpful later on in the case. She also listened because sometimes the other members of the team didn’t when he spoke. It wasn’t that they didn’t think that what he was saying was important, it was just that they were trying to come up with their own thoughts and theories about the case. y/n was also guilty of tuning Reid out sometimes, but when she could listen to him, she did.

y/n had always been more of a listener than one to contribute to the conversation early on. y/n felt better about talking once she had more information and that normally wasn’t until the team arrived at the case's location or even saw the first crime scene. Once y/n had the bigger picture, she was ready and able to hope in and give her thoughts. Before that time came, she would listen and think about her prior knowledge. Although it might be less exciting than guessing and formulating theories, she found that often some basic information or past cases or criminals was useful when leads dropped or the case seemed to go cold. In her process, she was thinking about the future. As she had integrated into the team full-time at the beginning, Derek teased her for writing so much down in a notebook. She highlighted any relevant information the team stated or facts that seemed relevant. Morgan had joked in good humor but as the first few cases came to a close, the whole team slowly realized that she was approaching these cases from another angle, one that proved to be highly valuable at important points.

y/n settled next to Emily at her desk and pulled her go bag from underneath the space. The sound of Aaron’s door closing caught y/n’s attention. He was wearing that maroon tie she liked so much. She hadn’t told him that yet, it felt too trivial, but she really liked that tie on him. Aaron caught her eye for a moment and there was a small twinge in her chest before they quickly, discreetly looked away. Nobody knew that they were spending time together outside of work. They had to be discreet because it was mixing work and pleasure and in a place like the FBI, that didn’t just fly. y/n was sure Hotch knew everything about the rules and consequences of breaking those rules, but he hadn’t filled her in on those details. She had looked at the employee handbook but it was all legalese and it hurt her head. If she and Aaron did become more serious, and committed, she would ask him to interpret the confusing language for her. Thankfully they weren’t having a hard time keeping their work and private lives separate, yet.

Aaron felt the normal thrill of heading out to a new case. He considered the word, ‘thrill,’ thinking it wasn’t the perfect synonym for the arrival of yet another slew of murders, but it certainly wasn’t excitement either. Excitement meant something happy, something to look forward to. ‘Energized,’ his brain offered. Mentally Aaron nodded along, That would work for now. He had to be energized for this work. He wasn’t a young man anymore but there had to be a strength and calmness with him. He was the leader and even with Rossi being on the team for over a year, his agents still looked to him to make this all work. His eyes found y/n’s and there he found the look of thrill. This was still so new to her, even though she had been on the team for a while. He looked away as always, not giving into any desires that lingered when he was paying attention to his newest agent. He was grateful that y/n was professional and polite and had the utmost decorum even though outside of work they hadn’t been entirely professional. The thought of their last non-work meeting at her apartment and her heavy breathing and soft sounds on her lips, as he worked over her clothed body with his hands brought a momentatry flush to his face.

Hotch sobered as quickly as he had flushed as Dave came up beside him and said, “You ready for this?” Aaron looked over to his friend and bluntly replied, “As ready as possible, but it's still never easy.” Rossi nodded along as they both moved down the stairs and toward the parking lot. This line of work wasn’t easy. Aaron knew that every time his team left for a new case there was a chance that someone might get hurt, or even killed and no matter how good everyone was at their job, that possibility still worried him. y/n’s face popped up in his mind as he found his seat in the jet and he pushed away the thought. His relationship with her had shifted to something he wasn’t entirely sure he had under control. They hadn’t made anything official and hadn’t even said, “I love you,” yet. However, Hotch wasn’t a man who moved quickly, but as long as he and y/n had an open, honest conversation about where their feelings were headed, he wasn’t going to fight it. He had fought so many things, and people in his life that he didn’t have the desire to fight this too. Being around y/n felt good. It felt safe and he rarely got that in his life, so he was embracing it where he could. As JJ went over more of the facts and details regarding the case involving a serial killer wreaking havoc in the tiny town in Ohio, he shifted his full attention to what his media liaison was saying.

As the jet landed on the tiny airstrip, everyone got out and into the waiting SUVs. Aaron drove with Emily, Spencer, and JJ while Rossi took y/n and Derek. Spencer and Emily were discussing the need to work well with the law enforcement in the town as they were likely ingratiate into all aspects of the community. Meanwhile, JJ was preparing a statement for the media. In the other car, Derek turned from the front seat and asked, “So what are we thinking in terms of prior knowledge _y/n_?” y/n turned her gaze to Morgan’s and said, “Well strangulation is such a common signature that we’re going to have to look for something more specific to get traction here. The photos do look like this guy is strangling people from behind and the unsubs killing fit men someone who doesn't want to face what they’re really doing? Or it could be that they despise their victims so much they can’t stand to see them again, even while killing them?” Morgan nodded and elaborated on the idea that the killer might see these men as a competition of some kind. As having something the unsub lacked. This information allowed those in Rossi’s car to start to form a physical profile of the unsub. As the team made it to the small local police station, everyone got out of the parked cars and a man who appeared to be in his fifties who was balding badly came out to greet them.

Aaron stepped forward and extended his hand. The man took it and gave it a firm shake, saying, “I’m Officer Bronson. Thank you so much for you folks from coming out here.” Aaron nodded, replying, “I’m Agent, Hotchner and this is my team.” He indicated to the team, quickly introducing them. First, he gestured to JJ stating, “This is our media liaison, Jennifer Jareau.” JJ stepped forward and took the man’s slightly sweaty hand. Aaron moved through the rest of the team quickly, wanting to get the introductions over with and the real work started. He motioned to each of his agents saying, “This is David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid, _y/n_ _l/n_, and Emily Prentiss.” Each member nodded as Hotch said their name and Officer Bronson replied, Well welcome to Walnut Creek. I wish it was under happier circumstances. I’ll let you all get inside and out of this heat.” As the team moved into the small building, Aaron asked, “Is there a space where we can get organized and look at the evidence more easily?” Bronson nodded and led the team to a table at the back of a very small station and said, “Sorry it’s nothing fancy. I’ll have someone clean off the files and stuff off for you.” The man turned and semi-shouted, “Anderson, can you clear your junk off this table?” Anderson, a thirty-something-year-old moved around the team and got his things saying, “Sorry Chief.” Bronson looked to Aaron, almost for approval, and asked, “Will this do?” To which Hotch simply replied, “It’s fine.”

As the team settled a little y/n looked at JJ with a ‘Are you kidding me?’ expression and then looked at Anderson who was placing his numerous files on another table. JJ rolled her eyes in return. The fact that one of the officers had open files possibly containing sensitive or private data out on a table for anyone in the room to see displayed the station's lack of professionalism. The team worked up a preliminary profile and Aaron told Officer Bronson that they were ready to address his unit. Bronson called his team to the side of the room and as the officers sat down, Aaron moved forward saying, “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for your attention. My name is Aaron Hotchner and I’m the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. This is my team, and we’re here to coordinate with you to try and stop these killings as quickly as possible. If you have any questions please hold them to the end. We appreciate you working with us, and now I’ll let Derek Morgan deliver our preliminary profile to you.”

Aaron stepped aside to let Derek deliver the profile. Hotch had asked Morgan to deliver the profile because something about the officers sitting in front of him didn’t seem like they were convinced that they needed the team's help. Given the fact that Derek was the closest in age to many of the officers, and he could be just as intense as Aaron if he wanted, Aaron thought that the men would respect Morgan over someone like himself or Rossi. It helped that Morgan also looked more like the policemen now listening with unveiled trepidation about the profile. This was another part of the job that Aaron disliked. He not only had to profile the unsub but the law enforcement officers as well. His team and the local authorities had to work together due to bureaucratic rulings and sometimes the officers didn’t want the Bau's assistance. The idea that the team was ‘taking over’ or ‘standing on their turf’ often caused conflict. Aaron always tried to nip this conflict early. His team didn’t need to worry about that and quite frankly they all had better things to do. Aaron looked at the ten seated men, as he listened to Morgan. Most of the officers were looking at Derek, but one or two were consistently looking over at JJ, y/n, and Emily. Aaron clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to sigh. He could tell whatever conflict his team and this police unit were going to have would be an uphill battle.

Hotch noticed when the men he was working with paid a little too much attention to members of his team. Hotch couldn’t deny that y/n, JJ, and Emily were all beautiful, intelligent, and capable and that combination was attractive. However, that did not give these men a right to act lewdly or leer at them. As Derek wrapped up the profile, he fielded a few questions from the assembled crowd. With that, Chief Bronson dismissed his men. Aaron gathered the team and they broke into smaller units to look for any clues that might bring them closer to finding the unsub. Aaron, Spencer, and y/n were headed to the high school which was the scene of the latest killing. Rossi and Morgan were headed to the hospital to see the bodies of the victims to determine if there was more to the signature than just strangulation. Lastly, JJ and Emily were going to go to the press to provide a statement for the townspeople who were panicking and holding up the police phones making those who really needed help unable to get it.

In the evening as the team regrouped at the station, there was the kind of frantic energy they got once the case had really started. y/n had lots of thoughts and was ready to see what the rest of the team had discovered. She knew she wasn’t going to see much sleep tonight, so she moved to the break room where the coffee pots normally were in police stations. As she approached the room she began to overhear a conversation going on inside. The snippet she heard was, “So who are you picking, Blondie, Brunette, or _y/h/c_?” There was a laugh before the other man in the room began saying, “What about all three?” There was more laughter at this and as the unseen man began saying, “But if you’re really making me choose…” y/n walked quickly away before she could hear the answer. As she moved back to the team she thought, ‘These guys really have no standards.’ She felt slightly repulsed but did her best to ignore the feeling. As she stepped back to the table, and Aaron looked over at her, he could see that something was wrong. A few minutes later, when he was finished listening to Spencer’s geographic profile, Hotch moved to stand next to y/n. In a quiet volume, he asked, “Is everything okay?” y/n looked up at him. His expression had the smallest hint of worry, and she alleviated that fear by saying, “Yeah. It’s nothing.” Aaron nodded and said, “Okay. Tell me more about what you were saying to Derek about the point of impact, we might be able to get a height on the unsub with that information.” y/n nodded and jumped into the conversation. Aaron could tell that something was off about y/n, but he wouldn’t push it. He trusted her to handle things herself and if she needed to, he knew she would ask for help.

The night wore on and eventually, the team moved to the tiny hotel the town had. There were barely enough rooms to fit them all. The town was very cozy and picturesque in its quaintness. y/n thought about this as she drove Derek and Rossi to the hotel. She assumed it was a nice place to grow up in. To grow old in. y/n wasn’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, but she chalked it up to tiredness and the case. Because for seven men there would be no growing old here or anywhere. The sadness of that realization only made her want to solve this case more badly. There were always a lot of emotions tied to the cases they worked on, and to protect herself, she had to try and stay disconnected from the pain and hurt that the victims and the victims' families went through. But she couldn’t always hold back those emotions and now was one of those times. As everyone settled in for the night and said their goodnights, which just meant ‘I’ll be sitting up in bed reading over the same evidence as you one door down,’ Aaron walked over to y/n and said, “Goodnight, y/n.” His brief interaction with her at the precinct from earlier in the day flashed in his head. He didn’t like it when she looked upset. It made him feel nervous, so he asked, “You’d tell me if something was wrong? Wouldn’t you?” The question came out of left field and y/n blinked for a moment, not really knowing why Aaron was asking. At this point, she had sort of forgotten the rude comments being made by the officers, so she replied, “Of course I would Aaron.” At her response, Hotch infinitesimally relaxed and the two headed for the elevator together. Rossi had seen the interaction between them. He didn’t hear what they said, or that y/n had used Hotch’s first name, but he couldn't help but feel that something was there between the two agents. Perhaps it was the way Aaron leaned down a little bit to be in earshot, or the way y/n looked at his friend like nothing else around her mattered. David wouldn’t say anything yet, but he was sure he was going to start paying more attention to Aaron. Rossi wasn’t against whatever was happening between his coworkers. Aaron had had a rough few months, and he thought the man deserved some comfort.

In the morning most of the team was out hunting leads. Derek and y/n had stayed back for a minute because _y/n_ thought she had seen something new in the geographical profile. They would both head to the sight of the first body once she had looked at the board again. y/n was standing, looking at the map, engrossed in the pins Spencer had pushed into all the significant locations thus far. She just barely acknowledged when Morgan said he was going to use the men’s room. She also didn’t notice when one of the officers came up behind her. The man extended a hand and grabbed her ass giving it a squeeze. At the unwanted touch, y/n whipped around saying, “Hey!” The phrases echoed around the nearly empty office. She looked at the man, clocking his name on his badge, Monroe. There was a moment of silence before y/n incredulously said, “What was that?” Monroe gave a laugh and said, “Sorry, babe. I thought you were interested.” With that, the officer quickly left, as he noticed Derek coming back from the bathroom. Monroe nearly brushed shoulders with Morgan as they both tried to fit through the door at the same time.

When Derek got into the room, he noticed that something was off about y/n. She was standing still with a look of shock and disgust on her face. y/n tried to fix her facial features back to normal, but Morgan had seen and quickly strode into the room next to her. Derek looked her over quickly and asked, “y/n, what’s wrong?” y/n looked to the floor for a second, biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t really believe what had just happened. For a moment she thought about lying but knew that Morgan would keep asking until she gave in. She sighed and looked up at Morgan’s worried face, saying, “That guy just groped me.” At hearing this, Morgan turned on his heel, but Officer Monroe was halfway out the door with Officer Anderson. They were both laughing at some unheard joke. It took everything in Derek to not go over to the two men and give Monroe an unadulterated piece of his mind. However, he knew that wasn’t his place really. And he wanted to make sure y/n was okay. He turned back to _y/n_ and asked, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” y/n nodded her head no, saying, “No. I was just shocked, I guess.” Morgan nodded along and said, “It shouldn’t have happened, period. You need to tell Hotch.” y/n’s widened at the suggestion. It made sense of course. Issues like this were under his purview, but for some reason telling him about this made her hesitate. Before she could think about it too much Morgan repeated himself saying, “Hotch would want to know.” y/n put her palms up and said, “Fine, fine. I’ll tell him when he gets back.” Morgan gave her a look that made her say, “I promise I’ll tell him.” After a second of picturing that uncomfortable forthcoming conversation y/n said, “He’s gonna be so mad.” Derek could understand what y/n was saying but noted, “Maybe, but not at you, y/n.” There was another awkward silence before Derek finally said, “Do you need a few minutes, or would you like to head out?” Desperate for a distraction y/n, almost too quickly replied, “No. let’s go.”

At the supermarket where the first victim had been found. Morgan and y/n took notes and got the security footage. It seems like they had a real lead by finding the license plate of the van that had dumped the deceased man in the alleyway near the store's load bay. However, the footage was too grainy to make out. After finishing watching the video, y/n moved to call Garcia and see if she could enhance the video quality while Derek asked the security guard who had found the victim in the morning some questions. When she wrapped up her call with Garcia, y/n briefly slumped against the outside wall; closing her eyes. She tried to think about why talking to Hotch about what had happened with Monroe was bothering her so much. She knew that Derek was right. Hotch wouldn’t be mad at her, at all. Maybe it was a feeling of embarrassment? y/n’s logical side of her brain said that she didn’t need to be embarrassed. She hadn’t groped anyone, but the feeling persisted. Maybe because talking about the incident meant being vulnerable in front of Aaron which was all fine and good when they were alone in her apartment. But having to do so at work was entirely different. y/n let out a breath deciding to push all her feelings back for a moment. She would deal with it later. For now, she moved back inside the rendezvous with Morgan.

‘Later’ came as it always did. It was around five o’clock and the whole team was reconvening at the station. As the SUVs arrived one by one in the parking lot, everyone got out. y/n looked over the team. They all looked a little tired, but when didn’t they on a case? y/n felt the fatigue pull at her, but she knew she would find a second wind once she heard what everyone else had found out. She knew this unsub was here lurking in this little town, ready to kill again. She looked over to Aaron who was speaking to Emily about something. y/n desperately wanted coffee and she walked toward the front door as she got close, Officer Monroe walked out the door. His badge was off and it was clear that he was headed home for the day. y/n wondered if the man had a wife? Kids? The idea of it only made her more disgusted. As they neared each other she refused to make room for him on the sidewalk. She’d make him move aside for her. She wasn’t, however, going to look at him. y/n planted her gaze on the sidewalk. Much like Monroe’s unwanted touch that morning, she didn’t expect to walk into him full force. When she turned her face to the man he said, “Hey, watch where you’re going, sweetheart.” y/n could see that Monroe was actually enjoying this and she replied, “You ran into me!” Monroe smiled at seeing this woman like this -- uncomfortable. He had enjoyed the rush of her skin under his hands, and now he hoped for a repeat performance. Hardly thinking that there were others looking on, he quickly and forcefully placed a hand on her navel and then brushed downward. y/n stood stock still as this happened because she thought that it couldn’t possibly be happening. Not here in public, in broad daylight, in front of the whole team? It just couldn’t be happening.

Aaron was chatting with Emily about the profile as he looked over the team to see how they were doing. As he looked at Morgan, and Morgan returned his gaze with a facial expression that said, ‘We need to talk.’ Aaron gave the man a nod and Morgan looked over to y/n who was walking forward the precinct. Her shoulders seemed pulled tight under her shirt but in a way that hid that she was trying to hide her stress. He watched as she walked into one of the police officers from yesterday who had been overly enthused by y/n, Prentiss, and JJ’s presence. Aaron could barely hear the brief conversation between the two and as the word, “Sweetheart,” was thrown out, Aaron stiffened. And then it happened. He couldn’t fully see where or how far down the officer’s hand had landed because _y/n_ was blocking his view, but Aaron observed y/n stiffen, and that told him all he needed to know.

Before y/n could find her voice and tell Monroe to ‘get the fuck off of her,’ Aaron’s clear sharp voice addressed the officer like a whip. Like a wound aimed at the man who dared to touch y/n. Aaron was over to y/n in an instant. He placed a hand on her shoulder, firmly but gently pulling her frozen body back and behind him. Aaron towered over Monroe, and he felt his blood boil. Aaron let a harsh breath out and said, “If you value your job, and your pension you will get your hand Off. My. Agent.” Aaron highlighted each word that evinced his anger. Behind him, _y/n_ felt a wave of relief from being pulled out of that situation. Quickly Spencer and Emily were pulling y/n farther away from the scene, but she could distinctly hear Hotch say, “Get in your car and leave. Now.” Derek watched as Monroe slinked away to his car looking defeated and small. Spencer and Emily walked with y/n into the precinct, asking if she was okay, and the team as a whole huddled around her to make sure she was really alright. When she had reassured them, everyone except for Hotch moved away from y/n. Aaron placed a hand on her forearm and led her to a chair. She sat and let the exhaustion of the case, disgust at Monroe's actions, and the feeling of his hand on her body overwhelm her for a moment. A shiver ran through her. Aaron knelt down on one knee to be more on eye level with y/n. If his words before had meant to intimidate and accuse, his tone now was one of reassurance and comfort. Aaron spoke professionally but with a hint of something more that spoke to their relationship outside of work. He asked, “Be honest with me. Are you okay? Are you hurt or bruised?” Aaron’s voice helped still her thoughts and she assessed her body before saying softly, “I’m not in any pain.” She didn’t answer his first question because she didn’t particularly feel alright, but she knew she was safe now. Especially now that she was with Aaron. Aaron registered this and asked, “Has this happened before while we’ve been here?” y/n swallowed and replied, “Yes, this morning right after everyone headed out for the day.” Aaron gave her that look that said, “Elaborate please.” y/n bit her bottom lip, wondering how to phrase what had happened. Not finding any more polite or dignified terms, she said, “Morgan had stepped out and I was focusing on the bulletin board and he, um, came up behind me and grabbed my ass.” She could see the anger, the controlled rage fire through him again and she wanted to say something to reassure Aaron that she really was alright, even if she wasn’t. However, he stopped her as the Chief of Police entered the building. Aaron turned his head back to y/n and said, “Excuse me for a moment.” Then with a tone of reassurance, he said, “This conversation isn’t over.” Hotch stood and looked at Emily who understood that he was asking her to sit with _y/n_. Prentiss moved to sit next to y/n. When this was done, Aaron turned his attention to the officer who had just entered the building and said, “Chief Bronson, your office, now.” His intonation left no room for questions or delays and the older man nodded and walked into his cluttered office with Aaron on his heels. Once the door was closed Hotch turned and he felt the anger bubble up to the surface again. As Bronson asked, “What seems to be the problem?” The man sounded nervous.

From outside the glass-walled room, the team listened as their leader said, “One of your officers just assaulted a member of my team.” Bronson’s response was inaudible, but Hotch’s reply of, “What do I mean?” Could be heard clearly. At this, the team flinched, knowing that the man inside with Hotch was about to have his soul ripped from his body and handed back to him. Everyone listened as Aaron said, “What I mean is that just a few minutes ago, Officer Monroe had his hands on a member of my team in a private area. And that wasn’t the first time this has happened today.” Aaron took a steadying breath before continuing, “As much as I respect law enforcement and what you do, I’m highly concerned about what’s just happened. If someone under your authority thought they had the right to touch a federal agent, I fear what’s happening with normal residents of this town.” Bronson stumbled to find words and said, “Well I certainly don’t condone that behavior.” Aaron let out a harsh scoff, not truly believing the man saying, “Perhaps not, but that doesn’t change the fact that your officer felt entitled to do what he did. And I don’t think Monroe thought he was going to face any consequences, and I can only imagine that he assumed that because you’ve let him get away with behavior like this before.” After this, Hotch’s voice dropped lower so the team outside could no longer hear him. Derek said, “Well I think Officer Bronson has had his ‘Come to Jesus’ moment.’” That comment actually made y/n laugh and she felt a little better now that she could laugh at this whole situation. Hearing Aaron stand up for her like that made her feel warm inside in a comforted sort of way. Aaron finished unloading with the warning, “You’ll be receiving an ethics complaint from the Department of Justice as soon as I’m back in Quantico. You might consider cutting your losses before then.” With that, he got up and left the office.

Later that evening in y/n’s room, she and Aaron sat. She was sitting on the edge of the bed facing Aaron who was in the only chair in the lamplit space. This was to be a continuation of their conversation from before. y/n looked over at Hotch and saw how perturbed he looked. She felt a tug in her chest seeing him like this. He already had to deal with so much and now there was this. She started the conversation in an attempt to soothe this new hurt by saying, “Hotch, it really wasn’t that bad. He didn’t hurt me, it was just unexpected.” At her words, he dipped his head and said, “It never should have happened, y/n. He touched you without your consent twice, and I couldn’t prevent it.” y/n frowned and felt that Aaron had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders with this job. She said, “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I know you see how they look at JJ, Em, and I.” Hotch lifted his head and placed a warm hand on her knee saying, “Of course I see, and it bothers me more than I can say. Having these men look at you is bad enough, but when one of them starts to act on those feelings, it's unconscionable.” y/n saw that she wasn’t going to make him feel any better, so instead she put her hand over his and gently rubbed over his knuckles with her thumb. She said, “I’m going to be okay Aaron. And if I’m not, I’ll let you know. Thank you for looking out for me.” Hotch let out a breath at her touch and words, simply replying, “Always, y/n. I’ll always be here.” He wanted to lean in and press his body to hers. To cover her from unwanted attention and hands. But there was still a case, and she looked tired, but he promised himself when this was solved that he would be spending a considerable amount of time either on his or her couch with y/n on his lap and his arms settled around her; as long as that was something she wanted of course.

The case wrapped up a few days later and the team headed home. On the plane ride back, y/n crashed on the couch facing Spencer. Emily, Rossi, and Morgan watched with a small amount of surprise, then a soft understanding as Hotch quietly took off his blazer and placed it over her curled, sleeping body. And when Rossi left his office and walked toward his car he stopped and made sure Aaron and y/n didn’t see him as Hotch held y/n and leaned down to kiss her forehead. As Hotch wrapped her in his arms, y/n’s hands moved to his chest, and after everything that had happened on top of the case, at least she knew that she was always safe with him.

#criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #fanfiction #reader insert #reader x hotch #angry hotch #protective hotch #derek morgan #emily prentiss #hotch blurb #comfort fic #hotch angst #i made this for you #spencer ried

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years

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(Y/N) Hotchner Masterlist

(Brother!Reader)

So I decided that there wasn’t enough Hotch brother reader stuff out there so I decided to make a series? I am probably going to write it out of order, but I’m going to put the parts in order that they happen (don’t worry, lol) - like timeline order, I could have just said time line order. Bolded means not yet uploaded but I plan on writing it. THIS IS NOT THE FULL LIST OF THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO INCLUDE EPISODE WISE. Also open to suggestions of stuff that could happen :)

Childhood fics:

First memories

Goodbye [title filler]

Roy [filler]

See you later brother

And then there were two

I can take it - Warnings: child abuse (straight after the cut), alcoholism, homophobia, f-slur, homophobic parent, internalised homophobia Word count: 1629

Bad News

The team

Even Worse News

Teenage antics

Even more teenage antics

Fics in the series timeline:

L.D.S.K

Natural Born Killer

Somebody’s watchin’

The Fisher King (Part One)

The Fisher King (Part Two)

Profiler Profiled

The Big Game

Revelations

Lucky

Penelope

Everything Hurts and I’m Dying - Warning: concussion, blood, worried aaron, reader get knocked out Word count: 571

Lo-Fi

Mayhem

Minimal Loss - (Y/N) Hotchner joins Prentiss and Reid to interview children from liberty ranch. Obviously things don't exactly go to plan. Warnings: hostage situation, abusive childhood mentioned, worried hotch, paedophilia referenced (as in the episode), hurt reader, explosions. Word Count: 7.7k

Brothers In Arms

Just the Tip of the Iceberg Part One - Warnings: toxic parents, abusive childhood, abusive dad, gun, argument, heated argument. Word count: 1222

Just the Tip of the Iceberg Part Two

Omnivore

To Hell...

...And Back

Flu Season - Warnings: cold/flu, illness Word count: 1591

Nameless, Faceless

Outfoxed

100 - (Y/N) Hotchner wasn’t expecting this to happen. Although, none of them really expected this to happen. (Y/N) now has to make sure that he is there for his brother and nephew as much as he can be. Warnings: Panic attack, death, vomit, all the stuff that happens in the episode happens here basically. Word Count: 4.7k

Risky Business

The Fight

Mystery Part

Our Darkest Hour

The Longest Night

Safe Haven

25 to Life

Sense Memory

This is it - Warnings: injury, let me know if I've missed anything Word count: 242

Today I do

Multiple cute tiny snippets - Warnings: Few mentions of rough cases Word count: 1008

Coda

Valhalla

Lauren

Hanley Waters

Supply and Demand

It Takes a Village

Proof

Hope

The Bittersweet Science

Handsome Squidward

The Company

Hit Run

Mr Scratch Part One

Mr Scratch Part Two - Warnings: toxic masculinity, child abuse, flashbacks, beaten, concussion, kicking punching, guns, bullet wound (fake), blood, hallucinations, noncon drugging, drugging, insecurities, strangulation. Word count: 3216

Mr Scratch Part Three

A Light at the End of the Tunnel Part One

A Light at the End of the Tunnel Part Two - Warnings: dead sibling (thought), lies, manipulation, dead body, kidnapped, abducted, injured, happy ending tho Word count: 574

A Light at the End of the Tunnel Part Three

Dr Sweets to the Rescue - Prompt: 'I wish they didn't save me'Warnings: I don't really know how to word the warning but reader wishes he wasn't saved, talks of funeral, grief, coping with lossWord count: 325

Another Mystery Part

Savannah Oh Na Na (I have a dumb sense of humour leave me be)

Snippets (not yet in order):

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deanstead · 3 years

Text

Somebody’s Watching

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request by danipearl16: Request- Jay has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and then they get a case where she’s being stalked and her stalker is killings women that seem to remind him of her and it turns out to be her ex-boyfriend from high school and Jay starts going downhill a little bit because he’s worried about her. Also his girlfriend is more on the younger than his side by 7 years

Word Count: 4,365

Warnings: cursing, mention of sexual assault/misconduct (non-graphic), mention of non-con touching, stalking, minor OC death, mention of injury, angst, fluff

A/N: Please beware of the triggers before you continue reading! I changed some parts to fit into the storyline but I still hope you like what I did with it! I’m pretty excited about this fic so I really really hope yall will like it! It’s my first time writing such a detailed case in so I hope it turned out well? Please hit me up and let me know what you think! Love yall!

---

You looked up from where you were sprawled on the couch, fiddling with your phone. Jay was sitting at the table, a small frown across his face as he pored over case notes.

Jay usually didn’t bring his work home with him but they’d just closed a big case and he had spent a whole week in the district. So instead of spending more time there to finish the paperwork, Jay had opted to bring it home instead.

You smiled to yourself just as Jay looked up. “Sorry babe.” He said, making a little face at the papers strewn across the table.

Chuckling, you climbed off the couch and moved towards him. You stood behind him, looping your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I missed you.” You whispered.

Jay turned slightly, tugging you so that you now landed in his lap.

“Missed you too.” He whispered, smiling as one of his arms snaked around your waist, holding you securely to him, another hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Sorry I’ve been busy.”

You shook your head, smiling.

You’d been dating for a while but no one else knew. Both of you had agreed to keep it on the down low, partly because of your age difference. Even though you had agreed you’d keep it quiet at least for the first few months, it had been a lot more than that and it had been going so well that you didn’t really want to purposefully invite anyone into this world that Jay and you had created for yourselves. Rather than keeping it a secret, you guys just hadn’t made the effort to tell anyone or publicize it to the world. This also meant that when he was stuck at the district, you didn’t get to see him but on such days, Jay was always mindful about checking in.

“What’s on your mind?” Jay asked.

“Just thinking I’m lucky to have you.” You responded, leaning in to try to give him a hug. Instead, Jay stroked your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. “Now, I really need to finish this.”

You laughed. “Go forth.”

---

Jay had taken a few well-deserved days of furlough, which he had mostly spent curled up with you. You didn’t have any complaints, it had been just what you both needed.

But Intelligence couldn’t catch a break. It was Jay’s first day back and now, he was already walking up to a crime scene.

Jay pushed the yellow crime scene tape upwards, letting Hailey walk through ahead of him before following behind her.

“What do we have?” Jay asked, approaching the spot where Adam and Kim were standing.

Kim turned. “Kate Whitewood, 22, stabbed multiple times.”

“She’s not in the system. No priors, nothing.” Adam added.

“No belongings on her?” Voight asked, looking around.

Adam shook his head. Jay frowned. “There’s barely any blood here.”

Kevin nodded, jogging forward to join them. “This is probably just the dump site. She must have been killed elsewhere.”

Hailey stood from where she had bent to examine the body. “She has defensive wounds on her. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find skin under her fingernails.”

Jay bent forward slightly. “What are those? Marks around her neck? We need to get her to the ME to get the exact cause of death.”

“Kim, bag her hands and get forensics to run a deluxe.” Voight said, as Kim nodded.

“My CI works this street, let me see what I can find out.” Jay said, turning away.

---

“So Kate was last seen at this bar right in town.” Hailey said, walking in and sticking a screenshot onto the board, which showed a camera view of the street outside the bar.

Kate could be seen on the image, her head turned slightly as she waved to someone, a man standing by her side. Hailey tapped the image.

“We can’t find this guy. His face is always turned away from the camera, facial recognition is out.”

Voight nodded. “Jay, have you heard from your CI?”

Jay nodded, resting slightly against Hailey’s desk, his arms crossed in front of him. “My guy says there haven’t been any deals going down. I think we can rule out drugs or gangs. Streets have been quiet ever since that big bust we did last month.”

“It was 28 degrees out last night, ME couldn’t find the exact time of death. But there were signs she was raped, signs of asphyxiation and five penetration wounds from a knife.” Kevin said, opening the file he had gotten from the medical examiner earlier.

Voight turned to Kim. “Who was she?”

Kim sighed. “Kate was a hard worker, she had just started her job as a receptionist at a dentist’s office in South Loop. Dad’s MIA, Mum’s remarried and relocated to New York so she’s living on her own.”

“Have we found who she was with last night?”

Adam nodded. “I’ve gone through her phone. Looks like she was meeting her friend Grace at the club last night.”

“We need to talk to her. I want to know about the last day of Kate’s life. Timeline. Check all sex offenders in the area. Comb her social media. Let’s go.” Voight instructed.

---

Jay knocked on the main door, glancing sideways at Hailey. The door swung open.

“Grace Archer? I’m Detective Upton, this is Detective Halstead, can we come in?” Hailey asked.

She furrowed her brows. “What’s this about?”

“You’re friends with Kate Whitewood?” Hailey asked, without directly answering her question. She nodded and without missing a beat, Hailey continued, “We need to ask you a few questions about last night.”

Grace stepped back to let them in, her face falling as she led them to the sitting room.

“I heard from her parents. The whole thing’s horrible.” Grace whispered, wrapping her hands around herself.

“Can you tell us what you remember?” Jay asked.

Grace looked up. “Kate’s boyfriend had broken up with her a few months ago, so I took her out. She needed to get out again.”

“Were you approached by anyone?” Hailey asked.

“Several.” She answered.

“Anyone that stood out?”

Grace paused, trying to recall. “Kate didn’t even really want to go. She barely looked at the guys… except…”

Hailey sat up a little. “There must have been something about this guy that she left with, something unique. We have a photo of him on the surveillance tape. Flashy?”

Grace nodded, “Yeah, he had this like... attitude… like he was hitting on us but he was making a joke of it at the same time.” She paused. “The last thing she told me was that she had a great time… I shouldn’t have forced her to come out.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Hailey leaned over and patted Grace comfortingly on the arm. “Thanks for talking to us. Please call us if you think of anything else.”

As Jay walked out of Grace’s house with Hailey, he looked at his partner. “This guy’s confident, he’s smooth and it doesn’t look like he knew Kate or Grace.”

---

For the rest of the day, the team had almost combed through the whole of Kate’s whereabouts before she had disappeared and all they had was a big fat nothing.

Jay typed a quick text to you to let you know that he wasn’t going to be able to come over tonight.

You read the text, smiling a little. Jay was busy but it was cute that he always kept you informed. You stopped walking, typing back a reply to tell him it was okay and to do what he had to do, before you kept her phone back into your pocket.

You walked along the street, the same street you walked on every night, frowning a little. You turned around, scanning the street behind you.

You could swear that it was like someone was watching you, or following you. But the street was empty. This wasn’t the first time you had had this feeling - like the little hairs on the back of your neck were standing but you had nothing to back up this feeling you had.

Holding your bag tighter against you, you pushed yourself forward, quickening your footsteps, only letting up as you passed the safety of your apartment building’s front door.

As you passed the threshold of your apartment and closed the door behind you, you pulled out your phone, staring at it for a while. Part of you wanted to call Jay, to hear his voice and have him tell you that you were just tired, imagining things. But the rational part of your brain convinced yourself that everything was okay, reminding you that Jay was so busy and deep in a case, he really shouldn’t have to worry about you.

Ultimately, you put your phone on the counter, chuckling at yourself. Maybe you really were too tired.

---

By the next morning, another body had turned up, not two streets away from the first dump site.

Jay felt an uneasy feeling spread in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the photo of the new victim that was already up on the board. They had a serial killer in Chicago and this guy’s victim type had physical characteristics that were scarily similar to you.

“Jay.” Hailey broke Jay out of his thoughts. “Emma Green, 23, strangulation marks, six stab wounds.”

Jay turned to his partner and nodded. “Did they go to the same club?”

Hailey handed Jay a file. “No, but look at what we picked up on the surveillance camera.” Jay opened the file, studying the photo.

“This is our guy isn’t it?” He pointed at a male figure who was standing next to their second victim, his face still hidden from the camera, wearing a plain cap.

“Hey guys, I might have found a link.” Kim said, walking in. “I checked the employee records and there’s a bartender that works in both clubs and he was on shift on each day our victims went missing. He’s got a prior for aggravated assault and harassment.”

“We’ll take it.” Jay said, grabbing his jacket and heading out of the district.

Hailey fell into step next to him, glancing at him. “Jay, you okay?”

Jay nodded. “Let’s just get this son of a bitch.”

They travelled the rest of the way in silence. Hailey seemed to pick up that this case was affecting Jay differently but she didn’t press further, allowing Jay to lead the way into the closed club.

“Ben Carlton?”

The bartender looked up from where he was, his eyes falling onto the police badge that was hung around Jay’s neck.

In a sudden motion, he ducked out and ran.

“Hey, stop!” Jay yelled, as both he and Hailey launched themselves after him, Hailey shooting out the front door to try to head him off.

“5021 George, I have a suspect fleeing on foot.” Jay called into his radio, sprinting after the bartender.

The bartender barely made it onto the next street before Hailey flung herself at him around the corner, rolling onto the ground as Jay pulled out his gun. “Don’t move!” He yelled, as Hailey pulled the bartender to his feet.

“Let’s go.” Jay snarled.

---

“It wasn’t me!” Ben yelled as he sat in the interrogation room, facing Jay and Hailey.

Jay sighed internally, watching Ben’s reactions and the way he was answering the questions Hailey was shooting at him.

“Those were mistakes, I didn’t do this!” He yelled again.

Jay pushed himself upright, getting up from where he was leaning against the wall and pushing the photos of the victims onto the table. “This. Look at this. We can place these girls at the bars you worked at just before they died.”

“Look.” Ben said, looking up at Jay. “I saw them but they left before I even finished my shift.”

Jay glanced at Hailey. “Who did they leave with?” Hailey asked.

Ben looked from Hailey to Jay. “Look, I don’t know the guy, he’s not a regular. But he’s white, about their age. I noticed him because he headed for them the moment that he walked in. Like he knew they were there.”

Before Jay or Hailey moved, a knock came from the door.

“You guys gotta see this.” Adam said, sticking his head in.

“Sit tight.” Jay said to Ben, following Adam outside, where Kevin was waiting as well.

Kevin handed the file to Jay. “We got another one.” Jay flipped open the file, which told him what he already feared. Another victim, of a physical type that not only matched the first two victims but also you.

Jay looked up. “His cooling off period is getting shorter. We need to get this son of a bitch.”

---

The feeling was getting a little stronger that someone had been watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder but as usual the street was empty. Maybe you needed to stop staying late.

You turned back towards the front. There were sounds of footsteps but you swallowed the lump in your throat, quickening your pace as discreetly as you could.

It definitely felt like someone was following you now. You were almost running by the time you rounded the corner, colliding with someone.

You gave a yelp of surprise.

“Y/N!”

You had collided with Jay.

You let out a breath, spinning around to look over your shoulder.

“What’s going on? You okay?” Jay’s eyes snapped from you to the empty street behind you.

You turned back to look at Jay. Now that he was standing in front of you, it didn’t seem that scary anymore - maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

You shook your head, taking one last glance behind you. “What are you doing here? You finished the case?”

Jay smiled but the smile didn’t really reach his eyes. “Just wanted to check in on you. I have to go back soon.”

You reached for his hand without saying anything and that’s how the both of you walked back to your apartment, your hand clenched securely in his, almost like the both of you had a tight bubble around you.

You could tell Jay’s mind was far away, and it was even more unlike him to come see you in the middle of a case. You knew there was something troubling him but you weren’t one to press. Jay would tell you when he felt he could or he wanted to.

Instead, you just squeezed his hand.

Almost as if you were prying him from his thoughts, Jay looked at you and smiled. He pulled you closer to him, tucking you under his arm.

“You’re okay, right?” You asked, without looking up at him, just as he escorted you to your door.

Jay turned to look at you and nodded. “I will be, once this case is over.” He leaned forward to give you a kiss. “If anything happens, you call me, okay? No matter what.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded at him, watching him disappear into the elevator before you retreated back into your apartment.

---

Intelligence had been tirelessly chasing down leads but they now had four bodies and Voight was getting pressure to solve this quickly as well. They needed a break in this case and fast.

“Okay, let’s regroup, what do we have so far?” Voight barked.

“All four victims were raped and found with multiple stab wounds. We know he picks up his victims from bars and appears non-threatening enough that his victims are willing to leave with him.” Jay said, getting up.

Hailey headed to the board, frowning. “We dumped their phones but we weren’t able to find any connection between the victims other than their physical type.” Hailey cast a look at Jay, which Voight didn’t miss. “I think he’s working his way up to something.”

“Hey guys?” Kim spoke up as she walked back in, flipping open the file sitting on her desk. “I went back over the first murder to see if we missed anything. Look at this.”

Kim pulled in her chair, zooming into the photo. “This badge here on his jacket, it’s barely visible so we missed it the first few times. I sent it to the lab to see if they could enhance the image and this is what I got.”

Kim clicked and up popped the crest of a high school. “Look, it’s not just a general badge. Look at the year.”

“Okay, that is the crest for Lincoln High. It’s a jacket given to those who graduated that year.” Kevin said, frowning at it.

“I’ll run the list of students who graduated in that year.” Jay barked, heading straight for his desk, his fingers flying across his keyboard.

Cross-checking was the worst job ever but the moment Jay’s eyes landed on your name on the list of graduates, he pulled it together, eliminating the women, men who had moved out of state or country, until finally he only had three names on the list.

“Okay, I have a Steven Miller, Charles Shoemaker and John Marlin.” Jay finally spoke up as everyone looked up. “But only Steven Miller has priors.”

“For harassment, sexual misconduct, and attempted assault. Sarge, this has to be our guy.” Jay looked up at Voight.

“Do we have an LKA?” Voight asked.

“Already on it.” Adam said.

“Go pick him up.” Adam nodded, motioning to Kevin as they headed out.

Something was bugging Jay. Steven Miller. That name was…

Fuck.

Jay pushed back his chair, entering Voight’s office without knocking and closing the door behind him.

“Sarge.”

Voight looked up, frowning a little at the look on Jay’s face. He put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, looking up at Jay.

“I’ve heard Miller’s name before. It was bugging me, but I remember now.”

Voight sat up straighter.

“I’m seeing his ex-girlfriend.” The words slipped past Jay’s lips. “Sarge, everything makes sense now. The physical type, the way he’s building up because his actual target…” Jay trailed off.

You had told Jay about Steven just once. You hadn’t gone into detail but you had told Jay about the short period that you had been together with Steven – his need for control over all aspects of your life, how he had always been a little rough, how he hadn’t taken any form of rejection well, and how you’d ended it the day he struck you.

“Take Hailey.”

Jay was already halfway to the door.

---

You had left early today.

It had been a while since you had done such an early shift but you’d been feeling more and more uneasy while walking home at night and the news coverage on the murders that were happening at the moment didn’t help.

You didn’t need Jay to tell you that you looked exactly like those girls who had been murdered. It was clear as day.

You fiddled with the key in the lock, opening the door.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you registered the person standing in front of you. In your house.

“Steven.” You muttered, your voice trembling, barely registering the butt of a gun heading towards your temple before it went dark.

---

Hailey hadn’t said anything but she knew something was off.

“Jay, what’s going on?” She asked. “How do you know this girl’s the target?”

Jay didn’t answer but pressed harder on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles were white. The ringing tone going off through his bluetooth speaker in the car making him feel even worse.

“Jay.” Hailey said again. “I’m your partner.”

Jay glanced at her now. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Hailey’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

Jay let a beat of silence passed. “Miller’s her ex. I should have seen the signs, the physical type, everything, I…”

“Jay. She’ll be fine. Come on.” Hailey reassured him, as he turned his truck onto the familiar street.

“She’s still not answering.” Jay said, through gritted teeth. He’d been trying to call you since he had left the station.

Without hesitation, Jay bounded up the stairs, Hailey right behind him. From down the corridor, Jay could already tell your door was slightly ajar.

“Hang back.” Jay whispered, pulling out his service weapon.

Jay quietly approached the door. “Y/N?” He opened the door with his foot, freezing as his eyes landed on you, sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, your eyes frantic as Steven held a knife to your throat from where he stood behind you.

Jay gritted his teeth, using his foot to slam the door shut, knowing that Hailey would know what to do.

“Step away from her.” Jay growled, pointing his gun directly at Steven.

Steven smiled. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. Put that down.”

Jay grinded his teeth but didn’t move. You felt the cold blade of the knife press against your skin and inhaled sharply.

“Put. It. Down.” Steven repeated.

“Okay, okay.” Jay said, glancing at you before putting his hands above his head, disarming his gun and putting it down onto the floor.

Steven smiled again, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Jay growled.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.” Steven answered.

“Jay, I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jay looked straight at you. “It’s going to be okay. You focus on me, you hear me? I’m right here.”

“We broke up a long time ago, what the hell are you doing?” You asked. You were afraid, hell you were trembling, but this was crazy and you had to help Jay to find a way out of this.

“We wouldn’t be broken up if he hadn’t come between us.” Steven snarled, moving closer towards you, his lips almost touching your ear.

Jay growled. “Leave her alone.”

Steven looked back up at Jay again.

“What, you mean don’t do this?” Steven asked, crushing his lips against yours.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Jay yelled. “Is that what you did? How you forced yourself on all the other girls? What do you want, Steven? What are you trying to accomplish?”

“All I wanted was to be with Y/N! But you took her.” He spat.

“So you decided to go on a rampage?” Jay asked. You saw him twitch like he was looking for something so you started talking, as much as it made you want to gag.

“Steven, why didn’t you just talk to me?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“Talk? All you care about is him!” He yelled, lifting the knife and pointing it at Jay.

It happened in a split second.

The moment he lifted the knife, Jay yelled, “Now, Y/N!”

You threw yourself forward, covering your head with your hands as you heard the gunshots go off, just two. You weren’t sure who was shooting but you didn’t move until you heard Jay’s voice again.

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s over.” Jay whispered.

You looked up, Jay’s face hovering above you.

“Jay…”

Jay nodded, “It’s okay, come here.”

Jay pulled his arms around you.

“He…” Jay shook his head, shielding your view of Steven’s now motionless body. “Don’t look back, come on.”

Jay tried to lead you out of the apartment, barely making it to the main door before his teammates appeared. “Jay!” Kevin called, as he spotted both of you.

Jay nodded. “Thanks.” Kevin nodded, his eyes lingering on the way Jay was holding you close to his side before making way for Jay to lead you back down to the ground floor where the ambulances were waiting.

Jay led you all the way to the waiting paramedics, not even leaving your side to get himself checked.

You weren’t hurt, not really. There was a little open cut from where Steven had pressed the blade a little too hard when he had been agitated but other than that you were fine. Well, that, and that disgusting feeling that came with remembering how Steven had pressed his lips against yours.

Voight approached you and Jay. Jay squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back.” You smiled and nodded.

Jay and Voight talked in low voices until Voight turned to look at you. “And she’s okay?”

Jay nodded. “Yeah, she is. I just need to…”

“Do what you need to do. We’ll finish up here.” Voight said, nodding and clapping Jay on the back.

---

The paramedics had dressed the wound on the scene before Jay had brought you back to his apartment.

After getting you into a clean change of clothes and some warm food in you, you had ended up back in your favourite place in the world – on Jay’s couch, in Jay’s apartment, encircled in Jay’s arms.

You lay your head on Jay’s chest.

“So this was all because of me?” You asked in a low voice.

Jay sat up, looking at you. “What?”

“He killed all those women… because of me. I got them killed.” You whispered.

“No, no, baby.” Jay propped himself up, but didn’t let you go. “This is not your fault. Steven he… he did this, not you.”

You looked up at him. “He even… in front of you… he…” You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, you felt disgusting. He’d kissed you, he’d done it in front of Jay and he’d ruined everything.

You hadn’t said that much but Jay just tilted your chin upwards and kissed you. “Jay…”

“I’ll take it all away.” Jay whispered. “I’m sorry, I should have been there sooner.”

You shook your head, swiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks.

Jay cupped your cheek again, pulling you into his chest. You balled your hand around his shirt, gripping at Jay.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Jay whispered.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you ever again.” He half snarled, still caressing you gently.

You leaned into his embrace, closing your eyes as the sound of Jay’s heartbeat gently lulled you back into the feeling of safety and security.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #resanoona request #tw #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead imagine #chicago pd x you

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morganofthewildfire · 3 years

Text

Amsterdam

Rowaelin month day 29 - song fic

Based on the song: Amsterdam by Daughter (everyone go listen to it it rips my heart out but it’s so good)

- 2.5k words

CW: mentions of death, violence, prostitution

—————————————

Rowan Whitethorn had been a detective for a long time. He’d seen a lot of grizzly cases: domestic disputes where 911 had to be called, accidental drownings or simple stunts turned deadly, suicides and murder/suicides alike, but nothing like this.

Rifthold wasn’t necessarily a small town, it was pretty well developed and saw it’s fair share of crime, and as one of the head detectives of the police department there, it was his job to deal with that crime when it came. But looking at the case file in front of him, with the crime scene photos of the young woman sprawled out along the cracked cement sidewalk, he suddenly felt nauseous in a way he hadn’t before.

The murder itself wasn’t necessarily a brutal one, just a simple strangulation. Something he was numb to, he’d seen it often enough. But it was the other thing that really got to him, the other factor of the kill that truly made it what it was. Horrific.

Because there, sprawled across the woman’s bare stomach, was the word whore carved into her skin. The small amount of blood surrounding it indicated it was done post mortem, according to the report he was reading, but that didn’t take away from the sheer spectacle of it. This killer had a message, and they were making sure that message was heard clearly.

It had taken the police a long time to get any leads, but now that this was the second murder of the same methodology within two weeks, they had at least a start. The killer was turning into a serial killer, so the best way to get a start was to figure out who they were killing, and why.

Rowan didn’t know the identities of the two women killed, both adorned with different slurs, but there was a pattern they could pick up on. The clothes they were wearing, the few eye witnesses that had seen them earlier in the evening, the places they were found… it was unfortunately indicative of a high risk victim.

Of a prostitute.

He hated that word, hated the sterile yet connotatively negative sound to it, and also hated that he was the one that had to go to The Vaults to try and see if anyone knew who they were.

The Vaults was the name of the street in the shadier side of downtown where that sort of activity was extremely common. It made sense to go there, to scope out the area, but Rowan didn’t like that he was the one who had to do it.

He knew why, and he knew he could put it aside for the sake of solving this case and saving some godsdamn lives, it was just difficult to look at the empty eyes, to feel the stares and the hopelessness, and not think of another woman, a different woman, who he’d left behind, who he’d failed. But Rowan wasn’t an amateur, he wouldn’t let that get the best of him.

Even as, later, he stepped out of his car parked a few blocks away and began his walk down to where he knew he would find some people. It was dark out, and surprisingly quiet, each step making a distinct noise against the pavement.

And he was dressed in plainclothes, not wanting to attract too much attention, but it seemed to be of no avail, because the moment he got anywhere, he was met with wary, heavy stares.

Through a cloud of hazy smoke, the stench of cigarettes strong, he cleared his throat, walking up to the nearest girl, the photo of the victim in hand.

He was a good half a foot taller than her, maybe more, yet she still somehow had the ability to make him feel small, raising a black brow at him as he stalked over to her.

“Hundred for an hour, five for the night,” she said, deadpan, nonchalant as she leaned up against the brick wall. Rowan clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath before holding up the photograph, the carefully cropped picture of just the most recent victim’s face.

“Do you know this woman?” He asked, trying to stay polite. She just blinked with her dark eyes, face clearly purposefully blank as he repeated his question. “Do you know her name? Anything about her? Have you seen her at all?”

The girl took a puff of her cigarette, blowing the smoke out to the side before looking back at him, raising a brow as if to say what are you still doing here?

Rowan sighed through his nose, fighting to keep his composure as he moved to the next target, a pair wearing impossibly short shorts and only half a shirt, who just both turned away from him, rolling their eyes as he passed. He wished he could just shout at them that this was a murder investigation, that they needed their help, but he couldn’t.

And he kind of understood. As much as it bugged him, it wasn’t like a group like this would be eager to talk to a police detective, no matter if it was one in a uniform or not. Rowan knew he exuded that air wherever he went, which he was usually proud of. It just happened to be a detriment this time.

But when he got rejected again and again and again, notably so by a girl with striking green eyes, who simply looked him up and down, and snorted before walking away, his temper was beginning to rise.

“You know, if you stopped looking at us like we're scum, we might be more inclined to talk to you,” a voice said, with dry cynical amusement, and Rowan raised a brow, turning to where it came from. And there, closer to him in the dark brick alleyway than he’d expected, was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

She had golden blonde hair, slightly teased to give it more volume, with dark makeup to accentuate her bright blue eyes, and he didn’t even let his eyes trail down her body, knowing he would just be distracted by what he would find. And he knew his eyes must’ve gone wide, because all she did was raise her brows, looking unimpressed when he finally opened his mouth to respond. Before finding he had no words in his mouth to say.

“Are you just going to stand there all night or what? You’re kind of blocking the street with your massive wannabe bodybuilder muscles.” Her blue eyes held a bit more fire than he’d seen in some of the other girls, and he found himself caught in it before he cleared his throat.

But before he could say anything, a car pulled up, rolling up slowly, and it was almost like a switch was flipped, as all of their attention immediately went to the street, watching as the car stopped and the window rolled down. The car was further away from where he and the girl were standing, and she didn’t seem to be bothering with going over there like some of the others were, as if she knew who he would pick. And she didn’t seem surprised when the brunette girl with the green eyes slid gracefully into the passenger seat, though her face was lined with more tension afterward.

He spoke after the car was gone and she was looking back at him.

“I’ll leave if you help me out,” he offered, and she sighed, pushing off of the wall and taking a step toward him. She was taller than the other girls, a little closer to his height, though he was sure she was wearing heels. But still. He barely had to look down to look her in the eyes.

“Let’s see it,” she said with exasperation, crossing her arms. Rowan’s mouth tightened, but he pulled out the photos, flipping it so it was on the victim’s face. The other was just some extra insurance, a photo he wasn’t even supposed to show, but one he could use for some extra persuasion. He flipped up the first one, so the girl could see it, and he knew she recognized her, he knew it, if only by the way her face tightened almost imperceptibly, her eyes growing cold yet still sad. “What happened to her?” She asked, more quietly than before, almost like a whisper.

And it was such a change, such a distinction, that he switched the photos without hesitation, showing her the other one. The full crime scene shot. But she didn’t freak out, or scream, or cry or anything like that, all she did was clench her jaw, her eyes widening before snapping back to the coldness they’d been before, like she was internalizing all of her shock.

Rowan couldn’t deny he was a bit impressed by the strength she was showing while looking at the brutal picture.

“She’s the second one like this,” he said quietly, “another auburn haired girl was found last week.” She nodded, resigned.

“They both went missing,” she said, equally as quietly, “we - never knew. Gods.” She rubbed a hand down her face. Rowan took her admission and ran.

“Did they go missing at the same time?” He asked. “Who are they? Was there anyone odd around them before this? Anything that seemed off?” She opened her mouth to respond, to say what he didn’t really know, but then another car pulled up.

A car that turned her face into stone.

“Sorry,” she said cooly, completely changing her tune, “I don’t rat to cops.” Her eyes stayed on the car as it rolled to a stop, near them this time. Rowan grew annoyed, especially as she started walking away, not even bothering to pay him any more mind. And that’s why he spit the next words, words that made her tense.

“What, do I have to shell out five hundred bucks to get you to talk to me?” The words were bitter, fiery with frustration and anger over the lack of clues on this case, pent up discomfort and unworthiness that pushed him to try and do something right for once.

She froze, turning slowly to glare at him over her shoulder, halfway between the car and him. “It’s a thousand for me, asshole, so you better start saving up.” Her tone was just as bitter as his, and she scoffed at his silence as she opened the passenger side door, immediately switching to a sultry smile as she turned away from him, toward whoever was picking her up for the night.

And so Rowan was left alone, without answers yet again.

———-

It was dawn by the time Aelin got home, having meandered her way back to her tiny apartment after getting dropped off on that same damned street as always.

An oily feeling was seeping in her gut, but she ignored the way her body protested, focusing on nursing the black eye adorning her face instead.

At least he’d paid for the whole night.

It was always worse when they only coughed up half of the amount she charged, saying “the car ride” didn’t count, even though that was only usually less than an hour, compared to the other hours of hell. There wasn’t much she could do when that happened, she was already in a vulnerable position being alone with a stranger, but when she told Arobynn, her “handler”, they tended not to come back.

Whatever. It took too much energy to care anyways.

The moment Aelin unlocked the door to her studio apartment, the tiny space she shared with Lysandra, she threw off her heels, not bothering to turn the light on as she trudged weakly to the bathroom.

The other girl was asleep, like she herself was soon to be, so she tried not to disturb her as she quietly shut the door, flicking on the harsh overhead light and staring at her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess, all ratty from where it’d been pulled. Her heavy makeup was even more smeared, making her look like a tired raccoon. And then her eye… it was swollen and bruised already, the dark discoloration standing out against her pale and drawn skin.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she knew who it was. One of her regulars, who’d apparently gotten a little too comfortable this time, thinking he could do whatever he wanted. He could do a lot, there wasn’t much she could say no to, but Arobynn drew the line at marring her. So at least she wouldn’t have to put up with him anymore.

Serves him right.

Aelin sighed, reaching forward to turn on the sink, but when she twisted the handle, nothing came out. She tried the other one, and even went over to try turning on the shower, but no luck.

They must’ve shut off their water. She tried to think of all the bills she and Lysandra had, all of the payments they had to make, and then she cursed.

She must’ve missed this one. Godsdamit. She felt disgusting, and needed to at least wash her face. But there wasn’t much she could do about it now. Not when she was so tired she was nearly falling asleep where she was standing.

So Aelin just left the bathroom, shutting off the lights and quietly padding over to her own bed, opposite Lysandra’s, sliding under the comforter while still in her makeup, her miniskirt, her crop top that showed more than it kept hidden. The blackout curtains they’d invested in kept the room dark even in the morning light, so it was easy to close her eyes, to fall into oblivion.

Except she couldn’t. Because another thought running through her mind was the single image that cop had shown her. Well, two more like it. The first one, of just the girl’s face, and the second one, of the crime scene where she’d been found. It haunted her, though she hadn’t said anything to him about it. It haunted her because she knew that girl, had been friends with her, had listened to her own dreams of getting out, of finding a new life, of escaping from this hellhole and actually doing what she wanted.

It was all a fantasy, a fairytale they all told themselves when things got too tough. But now she wouldn’t hear Nehemia’s fairytales anymore.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut, head on her pillow as she curled around the stuffed animal she allowed herself to keep, a little golden retriever looking puppy that she’d named Fleetfoot. She’d had it for ages, since before her life had turned into this mess, and now it was the one piece of comfort she let herself have. If only to keep herself from completely falling apart.

Maybe when she woke up, everything would be better. Maybe…

She fell into a dreamless sleep, pushing away the unbearable truth that her hopes were completely hopeless.

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@lexflame @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @shecriesallthetime @rolltide7 @sleeping-and-books @tottenhamboys20 @firestarsandseneschals @yesdreamblog @jlinez @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @booknerdproblems @1islessthan3books @ireallyshouldsleeprn @imaginedhaven @fangirlprincess09 @lauraisfae @claralady @sassys-world @booksbqueen @aelinashryvergalathynius18 @sexy-dumpster-fire @http-itsrebecca @perseusannabeth @throneofmak @emilyoftheshadows @poisonous00 @thegoddessofyou @highqueenofelfhame @chieflemming @thesurielships @annejulianneh111 @tomtenadia @aflickeringsoul @woollycat22 @empire-of-wildfire @jesstargaryenqueen @gracie-rosee @wanderingjpg @cicada-bones @shyvioletcat @thewayshedreamed @rowaelinismyotp @miserablesmusings @grandma-noob-lord @myworldofbooks @danibutterr @wordsafterhours @vanzetanze @dangerouscherryblossompenguin @sailorsassley @rainbowcheetah512 @live-the-fangirl-life @rowanwhitethornisbae @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @charlizeed @story-scribbler @westofmoon @foughtconquered @post-it-notes33 @ingrid1234-blog @larisssss @magnifique1807 @themoonthestarsthesuriel @sv0430 @yumna402 @realbookloverproblems @mariamuses @allthebooksunderthemoon @wishfulimaginings @peppermint-fae @backtobl4ck @rhysandswingspan @thegreyj

#rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin month #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass au #throne of glass fanfiction

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swissmissficrecs · 3 years

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Favorite Sherlock Holmes fics from 2020

Usually I put a bunch of explanations and disclaimers on these lists but you know what, it was a weird year and I’m not going to try to justify or apologize for what I read or didn’t read so here are my favorites that were completed last year, in descending order of length:

and your very flesh shall be a great poem by CaitlinFairchild (151K, E, Johnlock) After a tragic confrontation with terrible consequences, Sherlock and John follow Mary as she flees to America.

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (107K, E, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being. (This one is very slightly cheating because it was finished on 30 Dec 2019, but it didn't make it onto my 2019 list because I didn't read it until after I'd made the list. And it deserves to be on a Best Of list, so here it is.)

Thermocline by J_Baillier (83K, M, Johnlock) John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Do No Harm by Calais_Reno (79K, T, Johnlock) In 1923, Dr John Watson is on trial for the murder of his lover, Mary Morstan, a writer of popular mysteries. If convicted, he will hang. Sherlock Holmes sets out to prove his innocence, but finds himself more and more infatuated with the handsome doctor, and deeper and deeper inside the bohemian world of London's painters, playwrights, and poets. Will he uncover the evidence needed to acquit him in time?

To Be Human by ohlooktheresabee (78K, NR, Johnlock) There is a serial killer on the loose with a penchant for collecting the brains of his victims. Sherlock, John and Scotland Yard are on the case, but something about the chosen victims has Sherlock on edge. While they piece together the clues that will lead to the killer, John begins to realize that the way his best friend thinks may sometimes be more a hindrance than a help….

immediate and inglorious by simplyclockwork (72K, E, Johnlock) Bodies are showing up in back alleys, with no sign of a struggle, no trace of drugs. If not for the strangulation bruises on their necks and the scythe carved into their left shoulders, they could have died peacefully, in their sleep. With New Scotland Yard dumbfounded by the Grim Reaper Killer case, Sherlock is called in to consult. The more he investigates, the deeper Sherlock finds himself drawn into the work of London's newest serial killer. As his views of good and bad begin to blur, he risks losing himself to a darkness he never imagined. And, even more pressing: where does John Watson, grieving ex-boyfriend of the Grim Reaper's latest victim, fit into all of this?

Curtain Rising by tiger_in_the_flightdeck (61K, E, Johnlock) A disgraced television star is the target of a series of death threats just after a theatre production’s adaptation of The Sound of Music is announced with her as the lead. The suspect list is a mile long and growing, Rosie Watson is in the spotlight, and Sherlock might be getting too fond of his time on stage to focus on the case. With opening night approaching, can he and John figure out who wants their client dead before her final curtain rises?

The Fire Finds a Home by fearfully_beautifully_made (61K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock and John decide to give having a relationship a go, this is how their relationship starts to develop. There a little bit of plot, if you squint, but it was mostly an excuse to write John and Sherlock having sex in a lot of different ways and learning to love each other.

Borrowed Ghosts by DiscordantWords (57K, M, Johnlock) In the aftermath of the Culverton Smith case, John spent one painfully stilted afternoon hanging out with Sherlock. He counted the minutes, finished his tea, and left for home without ever clearing the air between them. And once he'd left, he found it very hard to go back.

You Might Just as Well Be Blind by ArwaMachine (56K, E, Johnlock) When a serial killer starts targeting couples, Sherlock and John must do what they have to do in order to get to the bottom of things. Unfortunately, John already has a girlfriend. Surely pretending to be in a relationship with Sherlock won't pose any problems with his relationship, will it?

The Broken Tether by J_Baillier (54K, M, Johnlock) Maybe he thinks that you only enjoy his company because of the Work, because of the way his dazzling intellect shines when he's in his element, but the truth is this: it is when he is at his most human, most bare, that you feel closest to him.

how the light gets in by subtext-is-my-division (Quill_A) (54K, E, Johnlock) Red wine always makes him tipsier than usual and he finds himself saying, the words slurring a bit. “You know, I’ve got to ask. Do you always shoot cabbies for people you barely you know?” John meets his gaze over the rim of his glass, and there’s something there that Sherlock can’t pin down. “Not for everyone,” he says, meaningfully, pointedly, his smile all teeth.

Erosion by saintscully (53K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock’s father falls ill, leaving the surviving family members broken and rudderless. James Sholto shows up in London unexpectedly, his intentions unclear. John has to navigate the consequences of crime, illness and death and their impact on his frayed relationship with Sherlock.

Hold You Like a Weapon by MissDavis (52K, E, Johnlock) Eurus shows up at 221B Baker Street in labour. Things go downhill from there.

Chances Are by Berty (51K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock is spending some time in his mind palace - so far, so normal. But why is John there, why do things keep changing and why are there only two exits from the sitting room at 221B, neither of which seem to go anywhere useful? It's a case like no other for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Sine Nomine by SilentAuror (45K, E, Johnlock) As Mycroft reviews the footage from Culverton Smith's morgue, he revisits his original question: whether John Watson would be the making of his brother, or make him worse than ever. He's come to a conclusion, but decides to give John one last chance. So he gives him a choice.

Cockaigne by HollyShadow88 (38K, E, Johnlock) When John’s contacted by an old uni friend about problems in his new art exhibition, he doesn’t think it will be worth Sherlock’s time. After a glance of the crime scene, however, they’re both pulled into the project in ways John didn’t expect. Will a week of erotic performance art finally be enough to bring them together in the way they both secretly hope? (Spoiler: it’s a tropey fic, of course it will)

Written in Ashes by 88thParallel (37K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock becomes the prime suspect in a homicide case, and recently unearthed memories of his childhood are complicating matters. It's up to John to track down answers — can he help Sherlock before it's too late?

A Desperate Indulgence by LollipopCop (34K, M, Johnlock) John thinks it's 2012 after waking up with amnesia, having no memory of Mary. Sherlock, exhausted from years of tension and hiding his love, pretends they got married instead.

Inhale With Ease by Vulpesmellifera (25K, E, Johnlock) In the years after Vivian Norbury's capture, life seems to work out just as John planned. He's got that respectable job at the surgery and goes home to his wife and child. He joins Sherlock on cases a couple times per week. It's a rhythm he can live with - just enough adrenaline highs to balance out the drudgery of a normal bloke's life. Until a pandemic, and Victor Trevor, arrive in London.

The House on Rue des Boulangers by Berty (24K, M, Johnlock) After being invalided out of the army and without any other prospects, John Watson has relocated to a small town in northern France. Now he has to decide what to do for the rest of his life. One morning there's a mad stranger in his garden chasing a swarm of bees, and it seems John's decision is made.

High Mountain Tea Leaves by disfictional (23K, E, Johnlock) A mountaintop robbery on a Japanese-occupation-era train where the only item stolen was a small case of mysterious tea leaves in a backpack? An ideal Christmas gift, two days late. Sherlock convinces John to travel for tea.

Detours by saintscully (22K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) During the better part of the first year following Mary's death and the events at Sherrinford, Sherlock and John are slowly rebuilding their lives and their friendship. All seems (relatively) well and John takes comfort in once again being a father, a doctor and a friend. An unexplained shift in Sherlock's behaviour catches John by surprise, and he begins to worry about his place in his friend's life. John has to examine everything he thought he knew about Sherlock, himself and their relationship in order to win his rightful place yet again.

hands full of matter by simplyclockwork (21K, E, Johnlock) When Sherlock is captured in Serbia, Mycroft cannot afford to involve the British government in his rescue. Instead, he sends John. After two years spent thinking Sherlock was dead, John finds himself navigating not only Sherlock’s rescue but their fractured friendship as well.

The Victim Experience by J_Baillier (16K, T, Gen) A case takes Sherlock and John deep into the seedy underbelly of the haunted attractions industry. With audiences craving more and more intense experiences, is a real murder the next logical step?

On the Fence by BeautifulFiction (13K, T, Johnlock) The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

Plus bonus ACD era:

"Baker Street: The Sleep of Reason": A Memoir by John H. Watson, M.D. by Gaedhal (98K, M, Johnlock, Johniarty) This is a Victorian Era story in the "Sherlock Holmes" (2009) Ritchie-verse. The main characters are Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson and is from the doctor's memoirs. It was written before "A Game of Shadows" so there are differences in this story and film canon, mainly in the person and backstory of one particular character.

The Taste of Truth by sanguinity (25K, T, Johnlock) Two and a half years after Reichenbach, John Watson discovers the magical tree that caused Holmes to fake his death.

The Adventure of the Vatican Cameos by Garonne (18K, E, Johnlock) How should one behave when waking for the first time in the bed of one's dearest friend? Holmes and Watson solve a case in Catholic London while navigating the turbid waters of their new relationship.

Hot Water by wordybirdy (13K, E, Johnlock, Watson/Gregson) Dr. John Watson's libidinous affair with a respected Scotland Yard inspector abruptly judders to a halt when the former meets a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, for the very first time. The attraction between the two is strongly mutual, but misunderstandings only multiply and tensions abound, as all three men attempt to deal with the new situation.

#rec list #best

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rayslittlekitten · 3 years

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Excess Baggage

A/N: Some random idea came to me last night while I couldn't sleep. This fic went waaaay more complicated and darker than I had intended. Also, this feels a little OOC for Will, but this is where the fic led me. It's a bit of a hot mess. Think it’s more angsty than sexy.

P.S. Picture Time is the prequel I wrote for this.

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 1,641

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x ex-fiancée!F!reader

Plot: You reach out to your ex-fiancé during a time in need.

WARNINGS: SUPER rough unprotected angsty/grieving sex, mentions of miscarriages, mentions of infidelity, PTSD, face slapping, choking/strangulation, mild degradation, maybe suicidal thoughts?, I'm gonna throw in non-con/dubcon in here just to cover all bases

It all happened so quickly. You called your ex-fiancé up out of desperation because you had no one else to turn to. It’s been five years since you’ve last spoken to him and you don’t even know if he still lives in the same town let alone still have the same number. It’s a number you remember by heart and could never forget it even if you tried. Will drilled it into your memory. He wanted to make sure just in case of emergency. How timely.

You were shocked and relieved to hear the familiar deep voice on the other end after a few rings. You couldn’t respond. You started sobbing.

“Hello? Who is this?”

You couldn’t stop crying. You wanted to say something but your words weren’t clear.

“Y/N, is that you?”

Your jeans and panties are now dangling around one of your ankles and your ex-fiancé is balls deep inside you, fucking you against the refrigerator. It’s exactly the way you remember it, maybe even better.

You knocked on his apartment door and the door opened immediately. There he stood in a T-shirt and basketball shorts. Hair looked the same. He looked like he aged a bit but also looked like he’s sleeping better these days than the last time you saw him.

“I-I’m so sorry to come to you like this, Billy—“ you started sobbing again.

“Y/N,” Will pulled you into his chest and held you close. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

He let you cry for a few moments before pulling away and looking at you.

“Come on. Let’s get inside.”

You both walk inside his apartment and he closes the door.

This is not why you came here, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss this. You’ve never had such raw, passionate sex with anyone else before. Will was always precise and intentional when it came to sex. He knew all your spots, your weaknesses, what made you tick. He’s the only one who’s ever been able to draw multiple orgasms out of you.

Even after he came back from his last tour, when the sex was different, the passion was still there but he was a lot more rough and a little distant. You saw the change, but knew he had seen and done things that he wouldn’t and couldn’t talk to you about. Instead he compartmentalized it and focused on burying himself inside of you, as if he was trying to burying his memories. At times you didn't recognize him, but there were things you honestly didn't expect to enjoy. Will on the other hand, hated it. Hated that he didn't have himself under control.

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, digging your heels into his firm ass and pulling him in closer.

“Do it, Billy," you pant.

"Do what?" Will asks, barely holding you up as you bounce on his dick.

"You know what I mean."

He looks at you for a moment while pumping in and out of you, wondering if you're asking him to do what he thinks you're asking him.

"No, you know--" Will shakes his head.

"Please, I'm asking you."

"I can't let myself go there again," Will says.

"Please," you plead.

"Y/N--"

"Do it!" You yell.

Will pulls out of you and gently lets you down. "You're not--"

"Do it!" You slap him across the face.

"Y/N, stop!"

"Fucking do it, Billy!" You continually slap him across the face until finally you see his eyes go dark and something snaps in Will. He grabs your wrists and spins you around and slams your body against the refrigerator door, knocking some of the magnets off, with both of your arms behind your back. You feel Will grab a handful of your hair and yanks your skull back.

"Is this what you fucking want?" Will asks into your ear. "Huh? Answer me!" Will shouts.

"Yes, Captain," you reply.

"You want something to drink?" Will asked.

When you had called, you caught him in the middle of watching a football game and a few beers in. You took the beer he offered and you downed half of it.

You've been with Will and have seen him through his worst times. You remember clear as day the time you had to wrangle Will off a man in Publix simply because he wouldn't move his cart. Ironically, his PTSD wasn't even what ultimately ended the relationship.

He has also seen you through your worst. You and Will were excited to bring in a new life. The both of you have been trying and couldn't wait to start this new chapter in your lives. However, three months in, there were complications and you ended up miscarrying. This took a heavy toll on your relationship. The angel that Will was, he was so supportive while he was grieving himself. You were were inconsolable and isolated yourself. In the end, the relationship became so estranged, it was an amicable split.

"Talk to me, Y/N. What's going on?" Will asked, pulling up a stool next to his kitchen island.

You opened your mouth but nothing came out. Not only have you not seen this man in five years, you haven't spoken to him or kept any form of communication.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," you sighed, and got up from the stool next to Will, but he grabbed your hand.

"Y/N, you can talk to me."

You looked at him for a moment and saw the sincerity in his light blue eyes. They were always calming when you looked into them. You sat back down.

"I don't know if you know, probably not. Why would you? But I got married two years ago," you told him.

"Congratulations," Will nodded.

"Thank you," you forced a small smile. "But we're not in a good place right now."

Will looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

"Few weeks ago I--" you started sobbing.

Will reached over and rubbed your back. He didn't say anything and had just let you cry.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say.

"Take your time," Will assured you.

After you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, you tried again.

"Few weeks ago I miscarried," you quickly spat out.

Will didn't say anything. He just pulled you into his arms and held you tight. You cried on his shoulder again and held onto him as well. He understood the pain and for you to go through it again, he felt even more helpless than he did the first time it happened. Wlll kissed your temple and stroked your back.

"And two nights ago I found out he's been cheating on me," you told him. "It's my fault."

Will pulled back and looked at you. You see his face hardened and his jaw ticked. He gently grabbed your face and looked you in the eyes.

"You are not to blame for this." Will shook his head. "And if he does blame you, that asshole doesn't deserve you."

Your eyes locked on his, you suddenly felt lust overwhelming you. You kissed Will and at first he hesitated, but he kissed back.

Will is fucking you relentlessly. You're pressed so close against the refrigerator door, you're pretty sure there is going to be an indentation mark on your face from the magnet it's pressed up against.

"Is that all you fucking got, Captain?" You taunt.

"Y/N..."

"Are you not man enough for the job?"

You suddenly feel Will's hand at your throat, firmly squeezing.

"You're a glutton for a punishment tonight, aren't you?" Will grits between his teeth. "Called me because you wanted to get railed like a fucking whore?"

You are a glutton for a punishment. You wanted to forget all the things that you blamed yourself for. You only wanted to feel Will take his dark thoughts out on you like he used to. You don't even care if it goes too far. The last time it did, you passed out and Will had swore he wouldn't let himself go back there. Not like that. But right now you're being selfish and poked and prodded him until you got what you wanted.

Will yanks your head back again, tugging at your hair.

"Answer me when I ask you a fucking question," Will shouts.

"Yes, Captain!"

Will pulls out of you and then drags you by your hair and throws you onto the kitchen floor. He hoists your legs up on his shoulders and shoves himself back into you. He's pounding into you, stroking your g-spot.

"Is that the best you can do?" You slap him again and he grabs your wrist and pins them above your head and he slaps your face and goes for your throat again. You lock eyes with him and you don't recognize Will. He's fucking you at full force, feeling the discomfort and tenderness in your cervix, and his grip on your neck is dangerously tight. You feel an orgasm forming and it builds quickly. You cry out as you feel your release rip through you. You feel yourself fading as Will's pressure on your neck gets tighter. A tear falls down the corner of your eye as you feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions.

"Fuck a baby in me, Billy," you tell him with a strained voice.

Those words snaps him out of his trance and brings him back down to the ground. He releases your neck and wrists and stops fucking you.

"No! What are you doing?" You hit his chest and slap him again.

"Y/N! I'm so sorry." Will grabs your wrists and then pulls you into his chest, holding you close to him while sitting on the floor, rocking you back and forth. "I'm so sorry."

You sob into his chest as he strokes your hair.

Related Fics: - Pep Talk - Picture Time - You’re Safe

#Charlie Hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #william ironhead miller #will ironhead miller #william ironhead miller x reader #will ironhead miller x reader #will ironhead miller x you

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malereader-inserts · 3 years

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Justifiable Fight

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: BAU Team & Male!Reader Summary: You’ve come into the office, you think you causing a fight was justifiable Word Count: 1,121 Request: Umm... I'm feeling like a criminal minds team x brother teen reader fic? Maybe the R gets kidnapped? Or gets into a fight? Or gets jumped on by someone down the street? I don't know. Anything really, Thanks! (I'm liking the got into a fight one best. Maybe he does it cause someone he cares about go bullied, R gets picked up and taken to the office and they see him with a black eye and busted up hands?) Thanks! Warning: Mention of blood, bullying and sexual harassment.

Penelope has a rowdy little brother.

It came to a shock to the tea, that she had a little brother, as she never really talks about him. He was loud but never a troubling kid, you’ve met the team a handful of times with your parents divorcing, Penelope got you out a toxic environment, meaning you lived with her.

So, you would get to know the team like the back of your hand, and they know you quite well. You did your homework on time, even asking for help from the team or from a teacher, you did your extra credit. You studied and always participated in after school activities. You weren’t a bad kid.

You were just the loud one, often joking about in class, but you never held back your education. You like playing pranks, but so loudly passionate about your hobbies. There wasn’t a bad bone in your body.

So, it was a little bit unexpected for Penelope to rush out of work during lunch hour to return with her brother in the office, fifteen minutes.

Whilst they were expecting Gracia siblings to look happy, they weren’t expecting to see Penelope looking at her wits end whilst her brother looks miserable. Not only that, covered in bruises, dried blood and minor injuries.

“Guess who got in a fight?” She announced to the team that was huddled in the bullpen, you looked angry as she flicked the back of your head.

“They deserved it,” You grumbled as you limped towards to a seat that Morgan pulled up for you, whilst JJ grabs the first aid kit, telling you that the school nurse didn’t do a good job on nursing you.

Rossi came back with in ice pack for you. You didn’t look good, but you looked like any trouble teen. You were sporting a good black eye, cuts on your knuckles which were forming hues of purple and black - knowing that you fought back. You had a cut on your lip and on your forehead, not to mention one on your eyebrow that they could tell that you had to wipe the blood away from dripping into your eye.

There was a bruise on your cheek as well as dried blood wipes under your nose from a nose bleed, there was a forming bruise on your jaw too. They were surprised to see some strangulation marks on your neck, it was a harsh fight you got into.

JJ and Hotch look at you, dreading the day if it ever happens when their sons get into a fight. You looked down knowing that the team was disappointed with you. Penelope tried to talk to you on the drive back, but you were too stubborn in to tell why the fight started.

You were too angry at the outcome of punishment, you were suspended for a week for starting the fight and hurting the other person more.

You didn’t care, you knew you were in the right.

“And genius here got himself suspended for a week,” Penelope says, sighing, “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’m sure he can stay here for the week to do his work, so he won’t be too far behind in school,” Hotch suggested, “We don’t have any pressing cases at the moment, I’m sure he’ll be fine here.”

“Yeah!” Spencer tries to lighten the mood, “You get to hang out with us.”

“Your favourite people,” Prentiss teases causing you to smile, at least you’re happier.

“What happened anyway?” Rossi asked as Penelope shakes her head, “You don’t know? Kid, you got to tell us.”

You furrowed your eyebrows together, debating whether to spill or not. At least, if you do, maybe what you did was justifiable and they would be on your side - after all, they were on the good side.

“The dickhead-”

“Language!” Prentiss hisses as you sighed.

“The prick was named Tyler and he’s notorious for being a prick and bullying people, obviously I’ve tried to tell him to lay off them,” You shrugged your shoulders, “He got a crowd going and when I told him to piss off-”

“Let me guess, he got angry that someone else stood up for him? Sounds like he has a complex,” Prentiss rolled her eyes.

“Is that all?” Morgan asked

“Oh no,” You replied bluntly, “He then grabbed one of my best friend’s boobs so I grabbed his head and connected to the ground.”

The team looked at you in shocked, first with how blunt you confessed and how brutal you attacked the kid.

“Like I said, he deserved it, it just got out of hand,” You shrugged your shoulders, “Apparently, it’s not the first time he got all touchy with the girls, but I was never there to witness it and the girls in my friend group begged me not to do anything, and let them sort it out first - they promised to tell me if it ever gets out of hand. I just lost of cool.”

“And, you’re the one with the week suspension?” Morgan asked, baffled as you shrugged your shoulders with a nod.

“I was talking to the girls as well, they were getting frustrated that they weren’t getting heard in school and was telling me to go handle Tyler whilst they try a different method of getting their voices heard. I might have not been on the look out for him, it was just a coincidence that he decided to start a show and I came to finish it.”

Penelope sighs, “I was going to ground you...”

“I’ve fifteen!” You protested as she sharply looks at you, quieting you down, you love your sister but she can be scary at times.

“But, after work, I guess I’ll buy you ice cream. You stood up for people who couldn’t and you have your friends’ back, the way you went about it is questionable. I’ll go to your school tomorrow to talk about this Tyler.”

“I’ll come along with you,” Morgan says, “If you want, or have one of the ladies with you. I’m sure the other kid will get a fairer punishment.”

Garcia looks at Morgan gratefully before looking at the women of the team, one look and they nodded, knowing that having independent woman coming to a school questioning their policies will have a greater effect.

“Alright kid, we have work to get about, so do whatever you want, just don’t cause any more trouble,” Penelope warns you as you smile.

You give back Rossi the ice pack as he winks at you, Morgan ruffles your hair before getting back to work. Spencer allowing you to say by him since he’s almost finished his work load.

“No promises, sis!”

#BAU Team #bau team imagine #bau team x male reader #x male reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x male reader #platonic

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spencersawkward · 3 years

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switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 1

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

relationship: fem!OC/Spencer Reid

word count: 3.4k

hi all! welcome to my new story.

I've never written a baby Spence fic before, but I'm gonna try my best. I just wanted to get something out of the way before the book starts:

aside from the fact that it's young Spencer, this book isn't placed in a specific season. I might pull cases from different episodes, but the characters will remain the same. I've included Emily and Rossi as characters because I couldn't bear to have a story without either of them (wouldn't want to subject any of you to a Prentiss-less world).

that's pretty much it. I'm glad you're here. if you wanna read my other stories, my masterlist is here.

happy reading :)

"HA!" I slap my hand down on the pile of cards and slide it towards me, organizing them in a neat pile with a smug expression.

"this game is a sham." Spencer sighs, reaching for his book.

"you're just mad you lost." I raise an eyebrow and shuffle the cards again. "you don't wanna play another round?"

"why would I? the only skill this game requires is fast reflexes." he runs hazel eyes down the page with an alarming quickness. I scoff at his disinterest.

"maybe if you trained those reflexes as much as you trained that big genius brain of yours, you'd get a leg up." Morgan teases from his spot next to me. Spencer glances at him with a frown, his cheeks turning a light pink, before looking to me. I throw up my hands.

"he said it, not me." secretly, I smile at the fact that Derek is backing me up.

"I could beat any of you in poker." Reid defends.

"easily. it helps that I don't even know how to play." I slide the cards back into the holder and cross my arms over my chest with a sigh.

"you don't know how to play poker?" he's shocked.

"I told you, I hate card games like that!" I emphasize. things like poker, blackjack, anything that involves multiple players, I usually don't enjoy much. Emily glances up from her case file with a tiny smirk.

"why?"

"I'm a sore loser." I admit, averting my eyes. there's also the risk factor involved, which includes giving up coins or pretzels or peanuts if I lose. I tend to cling tightly to all three. Prentiss lets out a laugh and Spencer flips the page of his book.

"and winner, apparently."

"you're sassy today, aren't you?" I grin at him, pleasantly surprised.

in the month I've been working here, I haven't spoken to Spencer very much. he's been polite and I've gotten to know his intellect quite well, but he doesn't spend a lot of time with us outside of work. when we go out to get drinks, he either declines or heads home before we can even ask, a bag full of books pressed to his side.

I think he just takes a while to get comfortable around new people-- that's what JJ said when I asked why he seemed to be avoiding me. the fact that he played cards with me today felt like a victory in itself, so I'll take what I can get.

Spencer doesn't reply to my dig, only crosses his long, narrow legs and settles into his book.

"we should start briefing before we land." Hotch and Rossi walk over from their spots at the front of the plane to sit on the couch by our table. I nod eagerly and watch as Emily flips open her laptop to FaceTime Penelope about the case.

the first couple cases were more difficult than I expected because I had never worked in the field before joining the BAU, but I'm starting to get used to flying around constantly and examining actual dead bodies. working sex crimes meant I spent most of my time in front of a computer screen or just staying in the office. this is incredibly different-- which I'm starting to find might not to be a bad thing.

"--the virus killed her hard drive and left that on the screen." Penelope explains, referring to the picture of Heather Woodland's computer.

"'for heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself'." Morgan reads the message aloud from the case file. the words feel familiar in my mind and I try to remember where I've heard them before.

"that's exactly what William Heirens left behind." Spencer sparks the memory. I sit up straighter.

"the Lipstick Killer?" my fingertips trace over the case details. it's a weird aspect of the murder to emulate, especially because he didn't even leave the message in lipstick. I guess he's not really concerned with that; based on the unsub's previous victims, we have just under 36 hours to find her.

"his first victim was Melissa Kirsh, 26," Reid scratches his nose as he reads, frowning so hard that I start to think he'll form permanent wrinkles. he's got such a baby face, it's almost funny. "stab wounds, strangulation."

"so he stabbed her first, and then strangled her to finish the job?" Morgan repeats.

"what's with using a belt for the second murder?" Emily flips through the papers, confused. Spencer stiffens in his spot as he realizes this is the perfect time to share his freakishly expansive forensic knowledge.

"strangulation with your bare hands actually isn't as easy as you would believe. he probably tried it, found that it took too long, then stabbed her. and blood takes a long time to clean, so he decided a belt would be more efficient."

"he's perfecting his method." I can't tear my eyes away from the photos, despite the roiling sensation they put in my stomach. even with the things I've already seen, I don't think I'll ever get over photographs like this.

"we'll be landing soon and then we're meeting up with the Seattle field office. be ready to split up once we hit the ground." Hotch snaps shut his case file and stands up, breaking off to go sit alone. Rossi takes note of the old card deck that sits on the table.

"poker?" he looks between the four of us.

"nope." Emily chuckles.

"this one doesn't know how to play." Morgan gestures to me, causing Rossi to turn to me.

"were you raised in a barn?" he asks in his usual manner of speaking: blunt sarcasm with a hint of mockery. I frown sarcastically.

"something like that."

"at some point this week, we'll sit down and I'll teach you." he gets up, pats my shoulder, and walks over to join Hotch. I lower my voice once he's far enough away.

"is he actually gonna make me do that?"

"you don't know Rossi." Morgan shakes his head slowly, slides his headphones back on, and sinks into his seat.

"I'll join and bring JJ with me." Emily winks at me reassuringly, noting the tapping of my nail against the surface of the table. Rossi is a legend in the field and I've read all of his books, but didn't want to freak him out by telling him so. it was embarrassing enough when I met him and got tongue-tied while shaking his hand. he's got an elusive energy that intimidates me, and I'd prefer not to showcase that by humiliating myself with poker.

instead of dwelling on thoughts of how I'm going to fail in front of my idol, I open up one of my books and try to pass the time.

...

while I'm writing some notes on one of the many white boards scattered throughout the field office, I realize that I'm one of four other women in the room, including Emily. she's talking to Hotch and another agent at the opposite end of the room; Reid is unpacking his signature book bag and seems deep in thought. Rossi is reading a document. everyone around me seems to be in a hurry to do something, and I begin to feel dumb.

"you okay?" Morgan asks me. I realize that I've been standing with my marker hovering over the board. my fingertips press into my temple before I turn to him.

"yeah, definitely. just thinking." my mind travels to the map we've got pasted up and the red marker lines that Spencer has already created with the geographical profile.

"looks like we're getting the classic Seattle treatment." Derek points outside to the rain pelting the windows, streaming down the glass and distorting the glow of the city outside. it's gloomy today, with a slight chill running through the streets. I nod and turn back to my task, suddenly realizing something.

"he's willing to travel with the body." I mutter to myself. Morgan steps up next to me, crosses his arms across his chest.

"he must drive a vehicle that can conceal one, then." he glances over to Hotch to see what the unit chief has to say, but Spencer speaks up first.

"one in seven point four drivers in Seattle owns an SUV." it's like a flip switches at the mention of a statistic, diverting his attention from something nebulous in his mind to the tangible case. he's a little similar to a robot.

"an Explorer with tinted windows?" Morgan speaks again as he looks over the case photos.

"those rate higher among women." Spencer again.

"sure, but how do we know it's his car?" I wonder.

"what about a Jeep Cherokee?" Hotch chimes in, almost startling me with the deep register of his voice. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I think on it.

"Jeeps are more masculine." Reid comes close to me in order to examine the picture I'm holding. he smells like clean laundry and some nice soap scent that I can't place. maybe it's the gel he uses to slick back his hair. no cologne or aftershave. I don't think he'd need to shave, what with his smooth baby face.

Spencer has some special quirks that make him a little more interesting. he usually avoids physical contact with other people-- doesn't shake hands-- but at other times, he doesn't seem to have self-awareness. like right now, where the shoulder of his red sweater is just barely touching mine. I hand him the picture and step away.

"unsubs love to assert their masculinity."

Hotch nods along, encouraging me to share more of what I'm thinking. after swallowing down a lingering nervousness, I tap the push pin marking where the last body was dumped. "he dropped her out-of-state, so he probably has a previous knowledge of law enforcement. maybe he's got a criminal record?"

"good, Williams." Hotch praises me. my fist clenches triumphantly at my side as he turns to the agent who has been watching us intently. "when do we meet with your task force?"

"four." the man replies. I balk at this, my posture shifting. the shortest time constraint I've ever had here has been a full day. it's already one in the afternoon.

"you want an accurate profile by four today?" I glance between Morgan and Spencer, but the latter is rocking back and forth on his heels with his eyes glued to the white board. Morgan doesn't seem put off by it.

"we can do that." Hotch scowls, snapping shut the case file with a finality that tells me we're about to split up. "Dave and Morgan, head to the last dump site. Williams, Reid, I want you to talk to Heather's brother and try to find out what you can about her life. Prentiss and I will stay here in case of new developments."

I nod curtly, grab my jacket, and glance over at Spencer. he runs his hand over his hair, although I can't imagine what there is to smooth down, then walks over to me.

"you ready to go?" I ask, brandishing the file. he and I have only done two interviews together; I spent most of my beginning weeks working with Emily to get a feel for the job. both times with the boy genius have been fine, if not a little awkward.

he nods in answer to my question. "would you mind driving?"

"no license?" I tease to lighten the mood, but he doesn't get the joke. instead, he frowns at me with something of a distracted expression, adjusts his bag.

"no, I don't like driving in the rain."

"oh," I recover quickly and put a friendly smile on my face. "no problem."

"thanks." he walks ahead of me and I cringe at my own behavior. he acts so differently from earlier on the jet that I start to wonder if I did something wrong. maybe he's just in his head or something; I know I would be if I had an IQ that enormous.

when we get to the house of Heather Woodland's brother, a gorgeous golden lab greets us in the entryway. she puts her paws up on my legs and I reach down to scratch behind her ears with a smile on my face.

"Sandy, calm down." her owner grabs her collar gently to calm her. "sorry."

"no, it's fine, I love dogs." I wave it off and step inside. Spencer is eyeing Sandy warily, but she seems just as eager to say hi to him as she was to me. when she lets out a singular, enthusiastic bark, he startles.

"Mr. Woodland," I suppress my laugh by changing the subject. "I'm Special Agent Williams and this is Special Agent Dr. Reid."

we shake hands, my colleague giving his usual wave and polite smile. the interviewee takes in Spencer's appearance. I know what's coming.

"you look too young for medical school." Woodland says to Reid. this has happened a couple times since I joined the team, but Spencer never seems to mind. if anything, he lights up at the opportunity to share the reason for his official title.

"they're PhD's. three of them." he gives a little smile as we walk into the house, me shaking a few stray raindrops from my hair.

"so... are you a genius or something?" Heather's brother leads us past the hallway into the living room, which is unkempt and littered with pictures, catalogs, and toys. he must have kids in school right now. that would also explain the breed of dog.

"I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified."

"he's being modest," I glance over at Spencer. "Dr. Reid can read 20,000 words a minute-- he's definitely a genius."

Woodland stares at Spencer for a second as he tries to fathom the speed at which someone's mind would have to turn in order to process all that information. I still can't imagine it. Spencer's eyes avoid Woodland's shyly. instead, he watches me as I pet Sandy.

soon after, we ask him about Heather's personality and tendencies. her brother is more than willing to give us all the information we need. I'm surprised, however, by my partner's ease at wandering around Woodland's house, flipping through the magazines on top of the TV and reading the spines of books on shelves. he's quite conspicuous about it.

about halfway through my mental list of questions, Sandy keeps jumping up and wagging her til.

"I'm gonna take her to the backyard quick," Woodland tells us. "one second."

he ducks out of the room and I wait until I know he's out of earshot before sidling up beside Reid.

"there's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller," he tells me, holding up a Datsun Z catalog. we know that she was in the market for one. "if I want to coax a young woman into my car..."

"offer her a test drive." I finish his sentence. of course, within ten minutes of sifting through this woman's house, Spencer has figured out the ruse used to lure her. Woodland returns a moment later with a smile, but we tell him that we've gotten the information we need before leaving.

in the car, Spencer theorizes about the unsub's mental condition as I try to navigate traffic in the storm. thunder rumbles overhead, occasionally sending a vibration through the car. my knuckles tighten around the wheel a bit. I also hate driving in the rain. his rambles fills the silence, however, and somewhat soothe my nerves.

"he doesn't have the MO of a paranoid psychotic. dumping the bodies out in the open, with a weapon nearby... that doesn't align."

"he covers their eyes with duct tape multiple times over, though. he knows he's going to kill them, but he doesn't want them to see his face?" my fingertips drum over the wheel nervously.

"what's wrong?" Spencer asks suddenly, glancing at my hands and then at my face. I still my movements at the change in subject.

"huh? nothing. I just don't like driving in the rain, either."

"oh. I'm sorry." he straightens a bit in his seat. the apology surprises me a little, but he seems genuinely sympathetic. I guess I really don't know him that well.

"it's cool."

we fall into an awkward silence and I bite my lip. we should get back to talking about the case. heaven knows Spencer has more facts to spew, more theories to share about this unsub. anything is better than the gap in conversation. I open my mouth to say more about what we learned at the house, except Spencer speaks first.

"so... how are you liking working here?" he asks awkwardly. it takes a second for the question to register with me. he sounds uncomfortable whenever we're alone and that makes me uncomfortable in turn. where everyone else was quick to include me in their jokes and discussions, Reid always sounds like talking to me exhausts him. it's obvious that he's socially awkward. there's no judgement from me; I'm just surprised that he's pushing to talk about non work-related subjects.

"I like it," not really an accurate summation. I don't think a heart-to-heart is exactly the right move when talking to him. "a little stressful, though."

"you worked in sex crimes before, right?" he looks out the window. there isn't much to see except for the rain-blurred skyline. I nod.

"yep."

"that sounds... hard." he shifts in his seat as he tries to come up with more points of conversation. it's kind of endearing, honestly. I throw him a bone.

"so is profiling."

"why'd you switch?" his eyes flit over to mine as he quickly adds, "if you don't mind me asking."

I take a second to come up with an answer. of course, there's the classic response: I've always wanted to help people— which isn't wrong— it's also not the whole answer. all through college and the Academy, I had my head focused on one thing. I could interview killers and get inside their heads, but there's something entirely different that you don't get from pure research. and one person inspired that in me before I had finished high school.

"don't tell him I said this, but I really wanted to work with Rossi." I say in a hushed tone. there's a slight smile on my lips because I haven't told anyone on the team in fear of being teased. I don't think Spencer is likely to gossip with Rossi about me, though.

"really?" now he sounds surprised.

"I've read all his books and I've been to a couple lectures. he doesn't remember me, evidently." the thought is more funny than embarrassing. he spoke at my college a few years back and I recall being on the edge of my seat, trying to come up with the courage to ask the questions that filled my head. I was too shy.

"does he know you're a fan?" Spencer loosens up a bit.

"nope," we pull off the freeway as we near the field office. I stop at a red light and look over. "I didn't want to embarrass myself with the whole 'your work changed my life' spiel."

at this, Spencer lets out a short, nervous giggle. it's a nice sound, that laugh. it makes me smile when he seems to relax in his seat.

"that's exactly what I did." he says. I frown.

"you told him his books changed your life?" I blush as I realize I just inadvertently made fun of him.

"I, um... well, I got excited to talk about his research." he averts his gaze again and his cheeks turn a slight pink. there's a dimple in his cheek, I notice, that keeps tugging upward. this is my first time having a non-forced moment with Spencer alone; a wave of satisfaction washes over me as I realize the potential for another friend here.

"trust me, I get it." I laugh. we pull into the parking ramp for the field office and I find a spot by the door. Spencer hoists that bag into his lap and runs his hand through his hair. when I pull the key out of the ignition, he waits for me to get out of the car before we start walking toward the door.

it's small, but I appreciate that he doesn't run off without me. we don't talk as we walk, our footsteps echoing along the cement walls.

oh my god first chapter holy fuck! it's short, but I don't wanna overwhelm. I'm so excited for this book!

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

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leahseclipse · 4 years

Text

May the show begin (Part 1)

May the show begin masterlist | Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: Kidnapping, general criminal minds stuff, angst, cursing

Summary: While working on a case, y/n gets targeted by the unsub that kidnaps her.

A/N: Hello! This is my veryy first Tumblr fic, I’ve never written any until now! I really worked hard to write as well as possible, so I hope you’ll appreciate it-

I plan to write ~3 chapters, maybe a 4th if I can. There will be an Epilogue, who will be extra fluff, an awesome ending. You’ll maybe cry during this fic, but do not worry, the story ends well. Have a good time reading!

Word count: 5.7k

______

It finally was one of these times where we got to have a break without being interrupted. Sure, it wouldn’t last very long, but it was better than nothing.

A few minutes earlier, we played rock paper scissors to decide who would go to the coffee shop to get everyone’s orders. Guess who lost? …the one and only y/n.

I hated going out, but what choice did I have? Not much to be honest. It was that, or taking care of Morgan’s enormous amount of paperwork, so, without hesitation, I preferred getting coffee for everyone.

As I was getting out of the shop, one bag in each hand, after getting sure that the drinks were secured so that they wouldn’t open and spill everywhere, I made my way back to the building, walking fast not to make them wait longer.

In order to get back quickly, I had to pass by a small street, not many people were there, if so, they’d block the others from walking. That wouldn’t be very convenient.

A part of me was always scared to walk there, I would always make sure not to stay here more than a minute, probably my paranoia talking. Since working at the BAU, seeing all of these cases of people getting kidnapped, or even cases in Criminal tv shows, documentaries, where people would get kidnapped on their way home, would simply terrify me, I couldn’t stop but think that it could happen to me. I would be suspicious of every person that would walk in the street.

What if that guy is a psychopath?

What if he’s dangerous?

All of these worries would fill my mind in a snap. I would automatically go on defensive mode in these situations.

Finally, I was about to make my way out of the tight street, when strangely, I felt like someone was watching me. I slowly turned my head to watch behind me, walking backwards in case something would happen.

No one was there.

The street was empty.

The only people there were only walking in front of it, but not going here.

I am going crazy or something?

I really felt someone watching me, and thought I heard footsteps. I waited a few seconds, still no one.

Okay. I’m either going crazy, or someone was following me.

Oh well, I guess I won’t know.

I shrugged and made my way out of the street, walking a bit faster when I heard my phone ringing.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming, stop calling, I can’t answer the phone if my hands are full!” I said, while the phone stopped ringing after a few seconds.

A few minutes later, I made my way into the building, taking the elevator to the 6th floor, when Morgan was coming.

“Pretty girl! You’re finally there. I almost thought you got lost for a minute.” He exclaimed, while taking the coffee cup I handed to him, letting out a sight of desperation.

“Well, ‘turns out that I’m not the only one that wants coffee, so there’s a verb called 'waiting’, so I waited for my turn, and for the employees to prepare the order, because in case you don’t know, they don’t have cups prepared in advance for us.” I said, letting out a smirk.

“Okay, okay, I apologize, Mrs Reid.”

“We’re not married yet, stop calling me Mrs Reid.”

“Yeah, but that’ll be soon, you guys just got engaged.”

“Probably not now, maybe in months. But like, I’m even afraid of my wedding day, like, what if we get called in emergency while I get prepared? I can’t say 'oh, let the victims die, I have a wedding, that’s more important’, I already had to cancel two dates with Spencer because we got called. I’m even afraid to have a call in a middle of a shower now!”

“Wow, how can you live with so much stress? You’re like a balloon about to explode.”

“I can’t do anything about it, I’ve always been stressing about everything. I’m even wondering if I should take medication at this point.”

“Okay, calm down. No one will call you on your special day. In case you forgot, other people work here, and these people will replace us. We’ll be gone only one day, they’ll be able to last that long” He said, grabbing my shoulder, while talking to me like I was a toddler.

As we got to the 6th floor, several eyes got on me, the coffee slave was back, I thought, as a joke to myself.

“Sorry, apparently a ton of people wanted coffee too, had to wait” I explained, putting the bags on the table, getting the cups out, as everyone would take theirs, heading back to their desks as they thanked me.

“Well, let’s hope you’ll get luck next time.” Morgan said, as he headed back to his desk.

“I won’t do that everyday, don’t dream about it.” I addressed, which earned a few laughs from the team.

Only one cup to give was remaining, I was about to look around, when two arms wrapped around my waist, I recognized him by his scent.

Spencer.

“There you are. I was getting worried about not seeing you coming back.” He stated, kissing me on the cheek before standing in front of me, taking his cup. “I see that you thought about me princess.”

“How could I forget? There’s also a ton of sugar sticks, to add a ton of sugar into it. You don’t like when they add because it’s never enough.” I exclaimed, taking a sip of my coffee.

“Indeed, it’s never enough. I just don’t know how people can like black coffee, with no sugar, nothing. That’s weird to me.”

“Everything is weird to you, can you even name one thing that’s not weird to you?”

“Well…you.”

He knew how to make me blush. Every single time, he’d always say the right word. And as a girl that loves him so much, I can’t resist.

I glanced at him, giving him the smile that he adores. Whenever I’d smile, he would say that among all of his hobbies and interests, it was his most favorite thing.

Before we knew each other, I never really liked my smile, I’d never look in a mirror, or take pictures because of it, I wasn’t confident about it, like the rest of my body, until…I met him.

Spencer Reid.

He changed my life in so many ways, he noticed that I wasn’t confident about myself, that I didn’t like the way I looked, but to him, I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

Every detail I didn’t like about myself, these were the ones he loved.

Whenever I’d feel down, he’d come on the couch with me and hug me; he helped me in so many ways that I can’t even name them all.

“You know I like it when you smile like that, and you know I can’t resist, especially at work.” He complained.

“I guess you’ll have to resist a little bit, in case you forgot, we have work, and work isn’t very patient, especially when Aaron Hotchner is your boss, so, sit there, and work.”

“So harsh…you broke my heart.” He said, dramatically putting his hand on his heart.

“And if I smile? Will that repair it?” I asked, smiling at him.

“Yeah. That’ll always repair it.”

“Good to know then.” I glanced at him before walking to my desk.

For the next minutes, we couldn’t stop glancing at each other every minute, I even had to swap desks with Morgan for this time, after he decided to separate us so that we could work. If I dared to continue, he even threatened me to give me all of his paperwork for an entire week.

So again, without hesitation, I chose to stop looking at Spencer, and finally work.

We still managed to send messages without him noticing, and even if he did notice, what could he do? Take our phones? He can’t even do that. We have to keep our phones on us 24/7 for work. So, he couldn’t do a-ny-thing.

After that, we didn’t really look at the time, paperwork takes a lot of time and effort, especially when it’s a case that took, several days, with several suspects, several victims, you must really have courage and energy for it.

We sometimes even trade or give excess paperwork to others, Hotch doesn’t really like it, but hey, we gotta help each other.

—-

Finally. The last file. I was so exhausted. I would have preferred sitting for hours in the conference room instead of sitting at my desk, writing again and again.

“My team, conference room, now.” A deep voice executed, as everyone was getting up the following second. No one really wanted to be yelled at by Hotch. Trust me when I say that.

Everyone made their way into the room, images were already on the screen as they took a seat, Garcia near the computer, giving the remote to Hotch.

“A few hours, local police found bodies, two women, aged 16 and 22, both found wearing a dress, heels, and a red ribbon around their necks, probably used to strangle them.” Hotch explained, before two pictures appeared.

“His first victim was Annie Evans, 16. The second one, Jane Harris, 22, both have been killed by strangulation; they also had various bruises on their bodies. It seems like they’ve been dropped at random locations, the unsub probably dropped them where he was. We’re looking for a male in his 40-50s, but we’re not quite sure yet.”

“I don't know if anyone else noticed...but it looks like they’re both dressed like dolls, in a pretty way, you know. He must have kept them several days, if he took the time to dress them up, and beat them. If you really look, they have a bit of makeup. They also found jewelry, but not real one, just the kind of things that you buy at a shop, it’s a transparent plastic string with beads on it. And for the dress, it kinda looks like it's handmade, there's a lot of strings there and there, a machine wouldn't have left that much.” I explained, as Morgan shook his head, apparently agreeing with my explanation.

“Yeah. They weren’t killed there. He kidnapped them for a bit and just killed them after.” He said, moving his hand while talking.

“We could be looking for…a doll maker, a guy obsessed with dolls or even another job, hobby, something that has to do with the art domain maybe…?” Spencer added, lightly tapping his pencil on the paper.

“Turns out we have some research to do then.” He concluded.

“We’re gonna make teams. Reid, y/l/n, go with Garcia; Morgan and Simmons, Alvez, JJ and Prentiss, you all know what to do. Let’s get to work.” Hotch ordered, everyone exited the room, going where they had to go.

As we left the room, Spencer and I quickly laughed, happy to have been paired up together again. We happen to work better when we’re together, and it’s…nice. Not that if we’re not together we do bad work, it’s just that…I really like working with him, there’s no big pressure, we understand each other, I like being around him in general, his presence reassures me.

After having enough information to have a possible lead, we were all told to go home to rest a bit. We’d probably have no sleep in the next few days due to all of the work waiting for us, so none of us complained.

“Come on y/n, let me drive you home this time, and no, you don’t get to complain, I’m driving you home, that’s it.” He said, not even letting me place a word, smiling at the end of his sentence, happy to have won this time.

“You’re such a kid. I even wonder if your brain didn’t get stuck in daycare sometimes.” I exclaimed, showing a fake disappointed look on my face.

“Actually, I didn’t go to daycare. I was too smart for that.” He smirked, glancing at me, as he started the car.

“Okay, you win. I don’t have any arguments to throw at you. I always run out of these before you do.” I added, pouting.

“You can’t even hate me, I know you can’t resist looking at my face. Come on, don’t be mad, look at me baby.”

Not wanting to make him wait more, I looked at him, as he smiled, seeming happy just at looking at me. He would always tell me that whenever he’d feel down, thinking about me would always cheer him up. I don’t really know why, there’s not much special about it, maybe it’s the glasses, I don’t know.

“Are you satisfied now?” I added.

“More than I ever have.”

“I’m not mad, don’t worry, I was only faking. I can’t be mad at you, how could I?”

“I know. I can separate your fake angry face from your real one. And indeed, you can’t be mad at me, you’d immediately fail by looking at my gorgeous face.”

“I can’t say anything about it either because, indeed, you have a gorgeous face, as you said.”

“Yep. I do.” He proudly smiled before bursting into laughter with me.

—-

After we arrived, despite insisting that I could walk to the doorstep on my own, he didn’t listen and took my hand.

“Okay, we’re here. Not a minute of your sleep will be wasted.” He said, briefly looking at his watch.

“Yeah. Hurry and go, I don’t want to wait any minute of yours. You won’t take long to drive back, but as soon as you get home, don’t take too much time to do whatever you do before going to bed, and then immediately go to sleep when you’re done.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Now go before I kick your ass.” I added, a serious look plastered on my face.

“Got it.” Spencer said, before putting his lips on mine, to which I answered by kissing him.

“Goodnight babe. I love you.”

“Goodnight princess. Love you too.”

On his sweet words, I closed the door. And to my surprise, I was still smiling. He had that strange effect on me, he’d always find light when I’d see nothing but pure darkness, in a way, he saved my life. Now that I’ve met him, I can’t imagine a life without him, I just can’t.

But being in a relationship when you work at a place like the BAU, It’s barely impossible but think about the worst scenarios. Our job isn’t without risk, so there’s always a chance that one of us gets hurt on the field, it is stressful, I won’t hide it, but we always do our best to not think about it. If it does happen, we’ll be there to support each other, I know we’ll do.

After taking a quick shower and changing into a comfortable outfit, I added an alarm for 6am, as I got into bed, falling asleep without even realising it.

——

THE NEXT MORNING

Spencer’s POV

Arriving at the office this morning, my first habit was to search for y/n. I would always see her first before starting to work on anything. If she was sick, or unable to come to work, hearing her voice was enough.

The first place she’d be at was her desk, but she wasn’t there. I searched for a note, nothing, her desk was as she left it, nothing changed, the only different thing that didn’t belong to her was some of Morgan’s files, they swapped desks yesterday for a moment, so he worked on hers. I was even wondering if he didn’t do it on purpose, it wouldn’t surprise me if he did.

I continued searching for her in all of the possible places she would usually be at. The conference room is usually calm in the morning, so she likes to go there, even if it’s not for work, she wasn’t here.

Again, I searched for traces of her, for her bag, perhaps. Maybe she was at the bathroom or somewhere else, she would have left something like files, or just her bag, she doesn’t bring it at the bathroom, even at home, on this point, she’s like me.

As I was going out of the room, I noticed Emily and JJ, talking together. I tried my best to keep a calm face, walking in their direction in order to talk to them. The two girls glanced at me as they saw me coming.

“Hi Spence!…what’s up?” JJ asked, as she noticed that something was slightly off with you, you saw her furrowing her brows.

“Um…hey. Hope I’m not interrupting anything but, have you guys seen y/n? I’ve been looking for her, basically at every place she’s usually at, but no sign. I’m starting to wonder if she’s not late..” I added, nervously laughing.

“No, we haven’t seen her. I don’t think she’s here yet, she didn’t log in this morning, her computer’s off. I noticed she always does it when she arrives, even if she stays on it for a minute. Maybe she’s late, it happens sometimes. Your alarm goes off, or you don’t hear it, so you end up waking up thirty minutes later. Just wait a bit longer, she’ll end up coming in.”

“Yeah, okay. Thank you guys.” I said, waving at them as I walked to my desk, sitting in my chair.

During the following minutes, I couldn’t stop but look at her desk, around me, through the glass of the room in front of me, hoping to see her in. I don’t usually worry about that, being late happens sometimes, but when I don’t see her, or hear anything from her, I immediately start to think about the worst scenarios, and I’m sure I’m not the only one that does.

Because when you work in the police, in my case, the FBI, seeing hundreds of cases of people that get murdered at their houses, killed while taking a run, kidnapped on their way home, you can’t help but think about these things happening to the ones you love.

That’s what I was afraid of right now.

Did something happen?

What if she’s hurt?

After an hour and a few minutes of waiting for her to come, the worries began to grow bigger and bigger each minute.

I couldn’t wait anymore, I decided to take the elevator and go to Garcia’s office. Looking at the building’s cameras isn’t illegal, so she could do that with absolutely no problem. Even if it was illegal, I wouldn’t care, I just wanted to know where she was.

I made my way into her office, not even having the time to place a word, she had apparently already heard the sound of the door, and turned to face me.

“Hey Spence, you need somethin’ ?” Garcia said, gesturing to me to close the door as I got in.

“Actually…yeah. I know it isn’t something that someone would do.. because it’s absolutely ridiculous to me, but,” I took a deep breath before saying what I needed to do, as I saw Penelope furrowing her brows.

“… I’m really getting worried, I don’t know why. I haven’t seen y/n this morning, I’ve been waiting for exactly one hour, thirty minutes and ten seconds, so that shows you how worried I am.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down a bit…” She added, before turning to the monitors.

“So…if I guessed well, you want me to look at the cameras?”

“…yes, please. I literally feel like my heart is about to pop out of my chest any minute with all of the stress I’ve accumulated.” I took a seat on a chair next to her, focusing on the monitors as she looked into the recordings.

“Um..I hate to say this to you, but…she’s not on the cameras, I just don’t see her. I looked everywhere I could think of, but the last time she showed up was yesterday, in the parking lot with you. Except that, nothing.” She said, as she got worried too. “Um…have you tried calling her maybe?”

“No, not yet. If she was on her way, I didn’t want to disturb her. I’m gonna try, I hope she picks up.” I explained, taking my phone from my pocket, dialing the number as I placed the phone to my ear.

…

'Hello, you’re on y/n y/l/n’s voicemail, I’m currently not available, so please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.’

“Her phone rings, but I ended up being directed to her voicemail. I don’t know what’s going on, it’s not her, she’s not usually late and if she does, she always sends a message, you can look at them, she never forgot to say it to me, or even at anyone else. Maybe I’m getting worried for nothing, and she’s on her way, but what if something happened? At this point, I’ve waited long enough, and something definitely feels off to me.”

“Uh…try calling again, I’m gonna locate her phone. That’s the only thing I can do right now. And I just…thought about it.”

I nodded, calling and placing the phone to my ear once again, staring at the screen.

“Uh…wait. Got it. Yeah, it’s definitely at her place. Look. It’s the right address, right number, IP, whatever. The phone’s definitely there.”

“She didn’t answer again. Her phone is always with her, she places it in her bag every night, if not, it’s on her nightstand, and she definitely sees it.” I said, getting even more worried.

“I can’t wait here anymore, I’m going to her place. Thanks Garcia.”

“No problem…keep me posted!” She yelled as I was on my way out.

“Will do.” I said, closing the door behind me, walking to the elevator to take what I needed at my desk.

—-

As I arrived at the 6th floor, I got out of the elevator, still looking around, while rushing to my desk. I didn’t even see Morgan until he noticed me. I think he must have seen how stressed out I was and interrupted me in my race.

“Woah, hey pretty boy, what’s going on? Does it have something to do with the case? Did Garcia make you her slave today?"

"No, no, it…doesn’t have anything to do with it.” I explained with a shaky voice, causing Morgan to ask me to calm down.

“Look, I’m just really, really, worried that something happened to y/n, I haven’t seen her, she doesn’t answer her phone, we even traced it, and it’s at her place, I can’t keep waiting here, I have to go to her place now. Maybe I’m getting worried for nothing, but I need to know if she’s okay or not.”

“That’s not y/l/n you’re describing to me, she’s basically never late.” He shook his head, like he didn’t want to believe that something may have happened. “Okay, If you’re really going, I’m coming with you, just in case you end up passing out on the way. We never know.”

“Whatever you want, I just want to know if she’s okay."

"Now that you’ve stressed me out, I really need to know too.” Morgan glanced at me, before exiting the office. He was about to take the elevator when I just rushed out into the staircase, not wanting to wait for the elevator. “Oh, okay, we’re taking the stairs apparently."

I wasn’t even thinking straight anymore, all I could think of was her, it’s maybe ridiculous for me to worry about a two hour absence, when she was probably at home, safe, but I needed to know, she doesn’t answer her calls, and there’s no way to contact her away from this. The only way was to go to her place.

I really hope she’s okay.

Please, be okay. Please.

Arriving at the parking lot, I took my keys out of my pocket, almost dropping them on the floor out of panic, while I headed towards the car to open the driver’s side door.

"Nuh-uh, I’m driving pretty boy, I don’t want us to get in an accident because you’ll be too stressed on the way.” He said, stopping me, as I made to the passenger side of the car, rolling my eyes out of frustration. “I’ll drive fast, but safely. I just want us to get there in one piece.” He said, while we both got in the car before he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot.

I quickly activated the siren before Morgan even had the time to, the sound of it blaring in the streets. I just guess I was…a bit nervous. No, a lot.

Even though Morgan was driving as fast as he could, it still was too slow for me. I just wanted to get out of the car and run there, I restrained myself from doing it by putting my hands on my lap.

I kept looking at the GPS, even though we didn’t need it because we, including myself, knew where she lived, I just wanted to keep it on to see how many miles were left until we would get there.

As soon as we got in front of the building, Morgan didn’t even stop the car, yet, I already had taken my seatbelt off, getting ready to open the door.

He wasn’t even fully parked, but I still shoved the door open, furiously closing in behind me. Morgan eventually joined me a few seconds after, taking the keys out of the car, before locking it.

Strangely, as we went through the entry of the building, walking in the direction of the stairs (again), all I could hear was my heart beating faster each minute I would get closer. I don’t even know if Morgan talked, I didn’t even hear anything, except the wave of the worst scenarios that could have happened drowning the only hope I had before coming here.

Morgan suddenly interrupted me in my intensive thinking, as I noticed that we were standing in front of her doorstep.

“The door is closed. You got the key?”

“Yeah, I got it.” I said, taking the set of keys from his hand, picking the key of her apartment. I could still remember the day she gave me a double copy of her keys. It was on a Sunday night, we managed to get out of work earlier, so we decided to go to her place for once.

She even let me choose what I wanted to watch, she insisted for me to not hesitate, even if it was a show she hated. And I knew that even if she hated the show, she would just lay down against me, and watch with me. Sometimes, she would either end up falling asleep a few minutes later, or try to distract me by sitting on my lap, so all I could do was look at her.

And when she’d do that, you can already tell who lost the game. Yeah, me.

Most guys would usually try to get them out of the way, trying to gently reject him without upsetting them, but I just couldn’t,

She meant everything to me. (And still does.)

It’s weird to explain your feelings with metaphors instead of just saying that I love her, I don’t why, I can’t help but do it.

These metaphors can explain all of the feelings I have for her, in a way. I know it’s really cheesy, but to me, even though there’s more than 170,000 words that exist in the English language, not any of them is powerful enough to describe my feelings.

She’d always laugh at me when I would say that, because let’s be honest, when you look at me, you see everything but a man that uses romantic sentences when talking with his girlfriend. Well, in my case, my fiance. It’s really recent so I tend to forget.

We’ve been together for so long, so having to call her 'my fiance’ after years and years of calling her my girlfriend…feels really weird to me. I guess it’ll take some time for me to remember it. I’m sure she won’t be mad.

Well, I hope…?

As I got out of my brief thoughts, I glanced at Morgan, entering the key in the hole, turning it two times before I heard the click of the door.

I quietly opened the door, as my eyes widened at the sight of her living room.

“Morgan. Why is her…apartment in this state? This isn’t normal.”

It didn’t take long for the us to understand what happened.

Someone broke into her apartment.

Something happened.

Something…happened.

We both froze for a minute, as we looked at the…chaotic living room. Nothing was in the place it was supposed to be, like…someone pushed them out of the way, the question was, was it her or whoever broke into her apartment that did that?

It wasn’t a matter of having strength or no, if she tried to defend herself, even if the couch was heavy, she wouldn’t have stopped fighting just because of that. The things you can do when in a situation of danger…are unbelievable. You never think yourself capable of it…until it happens.

After looking at each other with panicked eyes, we quickly made our way into the apartment, Morgan heading to the rooms situated in the back while I stayed in the living room.

It wasn’t until something caught my eye on the kitchen counter. At first glance, it looked like a piece of paper, I walked to the counter, taking the paper in my hand.

“The doll has returned to the shop.” I read out loud. “The doll has..” I said, stopping in the middle of the sentence, slowly realising, that just yesterday; y/n noticed that the way the women looked were similar to…a doll.

I made my way to her bedroom, as I heard Morgan talking.

“Her room looks the same. I think he must have grabbed her, and she tried to go away. And then he…he took her. The phone is on her nightstand …” Morgan said, with a trembling voice, touching the phone with the tip of his fingers.

“I found this…it was on the counter. And I think that we both know who did it.” I handed the note to him, as he took it, his hands trembling.

“She said that the victims both looked like…dolls.” He didn’t say anything after that, he immediately understood what I meant.

We were both devastated by the scene in front of us. We couldn’t believe it. I think that in this exact moment, we both wished for that to be nothing, but a bad dream. But it wasn’t. We had to face the reality that was standing right in front of us.

She was gone.

“Fuck!” I yelled, as I hid my face in my hands, on the verge of tears. “This can’t be happening, no…this can’t."

Where was she now?

Was she even alive?

I couldn’t stop but ask myself a thousand questions. This couldn’t be real. I couldn’t believe it.

I should have stayed with her. I should have, even if she didn’t want to. I should have hugged her, so she would have moved out of the door and I would have come in.

Why didn’t I do it.

I should have. If I did do that, I could have protected her.

As I was drowning in my thoughts, I heard a faint sound coming from my pocket, I soon realized that it was my phone.

Hotch.

I took a deep breath, before answering the phone, putting it on speaker while Morgan stood behind me.

"Reid, why didn’t you, Morgan and y/l/n showed up-” Hotch said, clearly annoyed, before getting interrupted.

“Y/n’s gone Hotch.” Morgan claimed. “We went to y/n’s place, and she’s not here. The guy in the case we worked on yesterday took her, that bastard took her Hotch! Now we have absolutely no idea where y/n is!"

"Oh shit. That son of a bitch.”

“He left a note, it says 'the doll has returned to the shop’. Hotch, it’s him. I mean who else could it be? I’m all ears, go ahead."

"No, I share the same opinion as you. Did, did you guys find anything else?”

“Except the fact that her apartment is completely turned over, no. The only thing of her that’s left are the traces of her fight.”

“Okay, um…I’ll see you guys at the office. We’ll be in the conference room, is that alright?” He asked, visibly destabilised by the current situation.

“Yeah, sure.” I said, before hanging up. I collapsed into Morgan’s arms, sobbing. I couldn’t contain myself anymore, I had to let it out. Since this morning, with all of the stress that I accumulated, I had to let everything out.

Morgan wrapped an arm around my back, as he was restraining himself from crying. He knew that he wouldn’t stop crying if he started. So he just stayed for a few minutes with me, I really needed some support.

The car ride back to the office was devastating.

The silence of the car was horrible.

No one talked, not even a single word.

We both were devastated by the recent news, and even more by thinking of the reaction of the team once they would hear what happened.

I couldn’t even think about what was happening to her, she must have been so terrified when a stranger broke into her apartment to kidnap her.

I couldn’t even say “I’m sure she’s okay.” , because deep inside, I knew she wasn’t, she was probably terrified.

———

No sooner than we had stepped off the elevator, we just didn’t want to be here. We’d have to work, while thinking about what might happen.

We both stepped into the conference room, as we noticed the devastating atmosphere in the room.

“Everyone. We have a lot of work in our hands right now. Let’s get ready.” Hotch said, breaking the heavy silence, probably in the room for a few minutes now.

Everybody opened their files, exchanging glances at each other from time to time.

I just hoped…we hoped, that y/n would be safe and sound when we’ll find her.

I can’t lose her.

She’s the love of my life.

_______

Taglist: @thatsonezesty13, @amanda-rotigliano, @eevee0722 ,

#criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler fic #cm

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sierraraeck · 4 years

Text

Daylight

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: After a long time without answers and your relationship ending on rocky terms, you run into Spencer and can finally put things to rest. Part one.

The prompt from @veraiconcos Fic Writer Challenge was “If I asked you to stay, would you?” This is bolded within the fic.

Category: Angst. Just pure angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This was initially a songfic and now it’s not, however it was still inspired by the song “Daylight” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

Internal dialogue

Flashback

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

In one word, complicated.

Yes, that was a cliche and overused, but there was really no better way to describe your relationship with Spencer. Unless of course people preferred terms like arduous, intricate, convoluted, twisted, entangled, or your personal favorite, fucked up. Although, that might be a little harsh. Kind of. It was complicated.

And things continued on that path when you waltzed into the San Jose precinct, ready to defend your client against none other than the BAU.

Despite being 28, you were already one of the most successful defense attorneys in the state, and had already had a couple run-ins with the FBI. Luckily, none of those had been against the ‘all-powerful’ behavioral analysis unit, and you were able to wrangle out some wins, or at least, the best you could have hoped for given the circumstances. This time, a man, Brayden Lee, had been arrested as a suspect for a series of strangulations, all of the victims tall, blonde, college athletes. Looking over his case and the amount of evidence against him, you felt sure that you could manage a favorable deal.

But now, your strides faltered as you saw the team of profilers standing around in a circle, speaking in hushed voices, immediately turning around to watch you in. Well, it wasn’t necessarily them that teetered your confidence, it was more like him. And that damn hair.

You were at your older brother’s graduation. A small, skinny kid with moppy brown curls walked across the stage, the gown he was wearing clearly three sizes too big for him. He looked really young, about your age, which immediately interested you.

“Spencer Reid,” the announcer called. He accepted his diploma, moved his tassel from one side to the other, and plopped right back down in his seat.

You just stared at him from your place high up in the bleachers, almost missing your brother as he walked across the stage. You clapped and cheered, but you still couldn’t tear your eyes from the strange kid who’d walked across moments before him. When the ceremony was over, you asked your brother who he was, and all he gave you was a shrug and an arched eyebrow. That was not exactly the answer you were looking for. So you took it upon yourself, being the awkwardly brave kid you were at 12, to find him and learn more. You ended up taking him home after the ceremony, and that was that. You still remember the dopey smile he gave you as he hopped out of the backseat, a smile that you would miss for three more years.

You tried to compose yourself as you avoided eye contact with any of them, marching toward the interrogation room to have some time alone with your client. But it had never been this hard to concentrate before.

Snap out of it. It’s been four fucking years, six if you really think about it, so you need to get it together. This man, the one right in front of your face, needs your help.

So you did just that. As a lawyer, you had to have intense focus, so you made yourself hone in on that skill. The two older men of the team came in to have quite the nice chat with you and your client, but it ended fairly close to how you predicted. He would be let off, for now, but you would have to stay on call in case they found more evidence of your client’s guilt. You ushered Brayden out of the station and into a cab, telling him that you’d be in touch if anything else came up and to keep a low profile.

You were ready to be done, but had to make sure there weren’t any other loopholes or things they weren’t telling you before you could leave. You trudged back into the precinct, expecting to talk to the two men you saw earlier, but found that once-nerdy boy you used to know waiting for you. Not to say he wasn’t still nerdy, you were sure he was, but he’d definitely changed since the last time you saw him.

You tried to act as professional as possible, “Is there anything else that I need to know about this case and your evidence against my client?” Honestly, you were shocked at how calm your voice sounded.

“As long as you’ve heard about his recent purchases and easy access to the material used to strangle these women, no,” he responded, just as casually.

“Okay great, and nothing else in the profile I should be aware of?”

“Nope.”

“Alright then,” you said, turning on your heels to walk out.

“That’s it?” Spencer’s tone suddenly sounded confused, even accusatory, which was such a stark contrast to the smoothe, gentle voice you remembered.

You were at the local library studying for your midterms before the holiday break. No one really went there anymore, and there were a ton of good research tools available, so it was the perfect quiet study spot. Well, mostly quiet, that was, until the ever-so-irritating ping of books being checked out was going off non-stop. You’d had enough, so you shot over your shoulder, “Jesus, how many books do you need?”

The pinging immediately stopped, and you heard a small, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

It wasn’t a lot, but something about that voice seemed familiar. You turned fully around to see those piercing gold eyes staring at you, and you recognized those curls.

“No way. You’re the kid who graduated high school at age twelve! I remember you,” you blurted before really thinking.

“Yeah. Hey (y/n),” he said.

“I’m so sorry I snapped at you like that…”

“Spencer,” he filled in, after hearing you hiss like a snake, trying to jog your memory of his name.

“Spencer! Sorry about that, I’m just kinda stressed about my exams,” you explained.

“It’s okay, I understand,” Spencer replied, gesturing to his ever-growing pile of books.

You inquired about how things were going for him, and he told you all about how his first year and a half in college had been, already obtaining his bachelor’s in mathematics.

“That’s so impressive. Think you could help me?” you said in a somewhat mocking tone.

Of course, he took you seriously, not picking up on the half-joke. “Sure.”

Although, you were thrilled he offered, and the two of you spent the next couple of hours talking about high school and college classes, your seemingly easy math compared to his, and him helping you with any other subject you needed help with, like AP biology and psychology. At the end of the night, you gave him your phone number, trying to cover up your little crush with a joke about needing his help as you rushed out into the freezing night air.

He never used it.

“Yeah. That’s it,” you shot over your shoulder.

“(y/n), hold on, I-” he started.

“Doctor Reid, they need you in the conference room,” some lady said. Now that caught your attention. You spun back around to look at him with raised eyebrows. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes flitted between you and the lady who told him he was needed.

“What are you waiting for, Doctor,” you sneered. He let out a sigh, giving you one last pointed look before turning away. You didn’t even know people called him ‘doctor’ now.

You returned home, hoping that the case would get cleared up easily, that they’d find a different culprit and you wouldn’t have to risk that floodgate of emotions bursting open. No such luck. They found Brayden at the scene of the crime, literally in the middle of digging up an old victim to do god knows what with, and took him back into custody. When you got back to the precinct, you told your client not to say a word, and asked what the charges were and if he was going to be transferred in the meantime. The answers to your questions were not in your favor, and you had one of the worst client-lawyer conversations you'd ever experienced. The man wouldn’t tell you a damn thing, and if he didn’t tell you anything, then you couldn’t help him. Of course, it was your job to try and help him as best as you could, but you whole-heartedly believed he was guilty too, which didn’t help you keep the right mindset. Plus, your heart was pounding into your ears for more reasons than being across the table from a serial killer.

Focus, please, you begged yourself. And you did, for a while, but it became a futile effort. At one point you just wanted to say ‘fuck this shit, lock him up’ and leave, you were that desperate.

When it was all over and the station was getting everything together in order to transfer him to a holding facility, you tried to slip out the doors and wait outside. Only moments after, though, you heard the door squeak back open.

“(y/n),” Spencer started.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly interjected. You had been contemplating for the last day or so if you needed to apologize, and just figured you would, if not for your sake, for your clients’. I mean, they would probably end up testifying at some point, not like that was the main thought going through your mind, but you convinced yourself it was. “I shouldn’t have conducted myself like that earlier. It was unprofessional and you were just trying to talk to me.”

“It’s fine. I probably deserved it,” he acknowledged.

“Probably, but that’s all in the past and I should have left it there,” you concluded. You both stood in absolute silence until it became too much to bear. You decided you’d at least try to act natural, “So how have things been since the last time I saw you?”

Spencer looked at you with surprised eyes, but answered with, “They’ve been interesting. There always seems to be a new case. How about you?”

“Same. Just one after the other, but it’s nice knowing I’m helping people,” you added.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Come on, what else can you throw out there? “Uh, so, they call you ‘doctor’ now?”

He offered a small laugh. “Yeah, they do. When I started, you know, I was much younger than anyone else in the bureau-”

“Still are,” you interjected.

He continued, “-true, but one of my mentors, who’s gone now, told people to call me that and I guess it just stuck.”

“Well, it sounds nice.”

“Thanks. I hear you are doing pretty well yourself, getting national mentions and such,” he stated.

You raised your eyebrows, “You heard about that?” A year or so back you got recognized as the top rising talent in your field of work, but you didn’t think that news would make it to the other coast. Unless he was specifically looking for that information…

“Yeah, I did. The FBI likes to keep tabs on people that might cause them the most trouble in a case, you being one of them.”

“Seriously?” You were astonished. The FBI was keeping tabs on you? “Why?”

“Just in case they get tired of opposing you and would rather work with you,” he shrugged, “But you seem to be having fun opposing right now.”

You let a smile reach the surface at that. “That obvious, huh?”

“I’m a profiler. Plus, you’ve always had a thing for opposing the ‘overbearing’ power and sticking up for the little guy.”

That was a little too close to home. You knew he meant that in more ways than one, and you couldn’t help but think about that god-awful night when you were just two kids trying to take a walk in the moonlight. The night that solidified your friendship.

It happened so fast. All you did was walk away for a second to throw your trash away, but that was all it took for the boys to pounce. Spencer had been attending CalTech for three years, and you were there to pop into the chemistry class, which you conveniently had with Spencer. Those other 20 year olds hated you and Spencer for the sole reason that you were two nerdy 17 year olds that were making them look bad. They’d already gotten in a few good punches before you returned, but when you did, you were livid. They were holding Spencer up while taking turns at him. You worked quickly, setting your phone to record before stepping in between one of the boys and Spencer. You hadn’t intended on getting caught in the crossfire, but you did, landing yourself a pretty bruise on your cheek for the next two weeks. You yelled at them about how they were assaulting a minor and how you now had all of their faces on tape, along with some other legal shit. One of them smashed your phone and went for another punch, but you kicked him in the throat before he could get to you, putting him flat on his ass. He tapped out, and you later found out he’d gotten whiplash from how he landed on the ground. They ran off, and when you turned around, Spencer collapsed in your arms. He was littered with cuts, blood, and already developing bruises. You took him back to his dorm and cleaned him up, spending the night before figuring out how to recover the footage. Once you did, you showed it to the board members, effectively expelling the boys and bringing them up on charges for assault. They got convicted, and no one screwed with either of you again. That was the moment you really decided to become a lawyer.

“Yeah, I guess I have,” you murmured. Brayden was brought out in cuffs and shoved into the back of a squad car, which was your cue to get moving. You had a full case on your hands.

You turned to leave, but as you did, Spencer stopped you. “Hey, would you maybe want to catch up later?”

You didn’t remember him ever being so bold before, and were caught off guard by the question. You stumbled out, “Uh, what did you have in mind?”

“Just … coffee, maybe?”

“Sure,” you said, and immediately saw Spencer’s shoulders relax. “Do you still remember where Arnette’s is?”

“Of course,” he responded. That used to be your favorite go-to spot.

“Alright then. I should be done with this at around eight,” you said, hopping into your car before he could respond. The officer with Brayden had already sped away, and you needed to stay close behind.

The whole drive you kicked yourself for saying yes. You were getting over him. You had gotten over him. And you loved Jordan and couldn’t help feeling like this was somehow betraying him. Plus, why should you be meeting him to catch up? He hadn’t been interested in that for five years! I mean, you put everything into making your relationship work. Sure, you were realistic that it wouldn’t last, but he could have at least tried.

You had it planned out. You would keep in touch until you could go out and visit him during the summer for Fourth of July during your sophomore year of college. The next year, he’d visit you, and the one after that, you’d visit him and so on. But that was the problem. There was no ‘so on.’ You visited him for the second time and that was it. And pretty soon, you could barely get him to pick up the damn phone. The last thing you heard from him was that he was pretty busy starting out with the BAU, along with an unanswered text wondering how his first case went.

But, you already agreed, so you might as well just see what happens.

You threw on some nice, non-work clothes and drove to the little shop on the corner. God you felt like a teenager.

It was just before eight and Spencer was already there waiting for you. Of course he was.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this was supposed to be two people who used to care about each other, and honestly still do, just catching up. Simply talking. About the present, no need to worry about the past.

“Hey, (y/n).” You always liked the way he said your name with welcoming confidence.

“Hey,” you replied. He opened the door for you and you shuffled in. With no surprise, you were the only two in there, and he went ahead and ordered for both of you, remembering what you wanted with ease. You gave him a bit of a confused look as you waited for your drinks.

“What?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable by your staring.

“Nothing, it’s just that you remember my order, that’s all.”

“I do have a really good memory,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but you also told me once that that only went for visuals, and your eidetic memory didn’t really work on audio,” you quipped.

“That’s true. I guess some things just stick. Plus, it’s not like you made it hard on me. You always ordered the same thing.”

You laughed a little, “I guess that’s true.”

You grabbed your drinks and left the hole-in-the-wall, autopilot kicking in, taking you both along the path that went around the park. Spencer sighed.

“Hm?” you questioned.

“Just, you know, thinking,” he said, brows furrowed.

“About what?”

“How we used to do this all the time. You’d finish your high school classes, drive over to CalTech for chemistry, and then afterward we’d stop by for coffee and a walk,” his voice sounded like he was in a dream, and he looked into the night air as if there was some answer or memory floating around out there. You guessed there was a memory floating around out here.

“Yeah those were crazy years,” you recalled. “I felt like I was constantly on the move and everything was happening all at once and I had all of this stuff I needed to get done. But this was always a nice place where I could clear my head and forget all of that.” That feeling was starting to return as you kept walking, the sticky air of California clinging to your skin.

“It was nice. I miss those days sometimes,” he said.

What is he getting at? “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You walked in silence for a while, but you could see Spencer’s posture tense up more with each step. There was something on his mind and he wasn’t telling you.

“What is it?”

“What is what?” he acted bewildered.

“What’s on your mind?” He tried to shrug it off and deny it, but you knew him better than that. It might have been a while, but some things, like he said, just stick. And the way his body acted when he was thinking was one of them. “Don’t even try that. I know when there is something bothering you, now out with it.”

“Who is it?” That was all he offered and it was your turn to be confused.

“Huh?”

“Who has the other one?” he said, voice a bit harsher than before, motioning to the gold ring around your finger.

“His name is Jordan.”

“Jordan, huh?”

“Yep.”

“What does he do?” Spencer inquired.

“He’s also a lawyer. We actually met in law school,” you answered somewhat hesitant. You still didn’t know what he was getting at, if anything.

“Oh. Nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your attitude starting to flare up.

“Absolutely nothing. Just not what I thought,” he stated with a bit of an edge to his voice.

“What did you think?” You were trying not to get offended by whatever he was implying, but you couldn’t help it. He asks me to catch up just to make passive aggressive criticisms?

“I don’t know. Not that, I guess.”

At this point, you wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “Well, you know, you could have changed that,” you replied in the same passive aggressive manner.

“What would you have wanted me to do?” his voice was raising, obviously picking up on what you were putting down.

“Uh, I don’t know, how about respond to one goddamned text?”

“I tried.”

“Not really. And then you just went dark,” you spat.

“You seemed to be fine with that. You moved on pretty quickly,” he hissed, not even bothering to look at you.

“Why do you think that is, genius? I visited you, and then you stopped answering my calls. You stopped responding to my texts. I basically never heard from you again, and then the next thing I know, your showing up on my fucking tv, in California for a case, and you don’t even reach out. You didn’t even ask to meet up anywhere, not even stop by to say hey. Nothing. You did nothing once your job swallowed you up whole. I know what that’s like and it’s hard, believe me, I’m a lawyer for Chrissake, but I found the time. Plus, for all I knew, you had already found someone else, so I wasn’t going to wait around for the guy who seemed to love me much less than I loved him.” By the end, you were yelling, and thanking the stars above you that no one was around to hear it.

“You’re right,” he whispered after a while.

You were stunned, and could only manage a small, “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeated. “I should have put in more effort. I don’t know, (y/n), I wish I had a better answer for you but I don’t. I was young, and stupid, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I let my insecurities get in the way of us, and I will never be able to forgive myself for that.”

“What?” It was seriously the only thing going through your mind, however, you were able to force out, “Insecurities?”

“Yeah. I was worried that because I was away, you were going to tire of me, that you weren’t going to want to stay in a relationship. I thought that maybe, by being ‘tied’ to me, so to speak, that I was holding you back, which we promised each other we would never do. We said that we would never get in the way of the other’s dream, and I wondered if maybe I was going to do that to you. I just … I had all of these doubts, so I panicked. I stopped responding. And I was so wrong to do that.”

Now that he’d said them, they sounded like some of the same doubts he expressed to you the night before he left.

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven, which means I have to be there by six, which means I have to be leaving here by four-thirty at the latest,” he recited. He had all of his stuff piled by the door, which was hardly anything at all. You were in his hotel room because his house was soon to be taken over by a young couple, since he’d be living in Massachusetts, and his mother was in a mental facility. You’d just come back from visiting her, which left Spencer in tears.

You ate dinner while playing chess, which he effectively beat you at. You were actually pretty good at it, but no match for his math-based brain. You snuggled into bed next to him, willing yourself to keep it together because the last thing you wanted to do was spend your last night with him an emotional wreck. He queued up a movie, but neither of you paid any attention to it. His arm was draped around your shoulders and yours were clasped around his waist.

Spencer’s hand lazily circled your back until it moved with purpose down to your thigh. He continued his lazy patterns when you looked up at him, a question in your eyes.

You’d been with Spencer for over a year, and recalled your first time. You were ready before he was, which came as no surprise, but that didn’t stop the nerves from racing through your head. But if you thought you were nervous, you had no idea what was going through Spencer’s head. He later told you that he was absolutely terrified because he didn’t want to do something wrong, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he didn’t want you to think less of him because of his body style, and a million other things that he was scared about. That’s how you accidentally said the ‘L’ word. “Spencer Reid, I would never judge you and you could never scare me away. I love you and your body and your brain, and you are not going to do something wrong, not like I’d know because we are both new to this and are doing it together. Understand?”

He gave you a shy smile. “I do.”

Now though, it was very different. Comfortable, confident, safe.

“Can I have you?” he asked, “All of you, one last time?”

You leaned up to kiss him, and he sighed when you pulled away. You looked him straight in the eyes, “I’m all yours.”

And you were. You felt like you always had been and probably always would be, and could only hope that he felt a fraction of the same. Your bodies pushed and pulled in perfect unison, fitting together as if you were two pieces of a puzzle, specifically crafted for the other.

You returned to your curled up position beside him, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears silently flowed out of your eyes, but you couldn’t make yourself peel your arms away from him long enough to wipe them away. You attempted to sob without making a sound, knowing that if Spencer saw you crying, it would make him cry, and he couldn’t cry because it would make you cry more, splitting you right in half. It didn’t matter how quiet you were being about it, because when you looked up at Spencer, you saw the same silent tears glistening on his cheeks. It was only then that you pulled your hands from around him and brushed away his tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” you apologized. “This is supposed to be exciting. You’re going to the best school in the country to get your PhD.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, moving his hands up and down your arms, “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m making the right decision.”

This took you by surprise. He’d always seemed confident about this, passionate about furthering his education. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to complicate things for anyone. For my mother. For you.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” You knew it was unfair, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The only thing you wanted to say. You needed him, and it was sickening wondering if soon, he might not need you. He stared at you dumbfoundedly, so you quickly covered it up with, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. You are about to start a whole new part of your life, and you should go, pursue your dreams with the best education this country can offer. I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

You repositioned yourself back on his chest, and started to drift off to sleep when you felt him sigh. You lazily peered up at him, meeting his restless eyes. “Spence, you need to sleep.”

“I can sleep on the plane. I need this more,” he said, smiling at you. You tried to stay awake like you knew Spencer would, but to no avail. You did, however, wake up to him getting ready to leave. He kissed you goodbye, and you held yourself together until he’d walked out, the door shutting with a definite ‘click.’

All the air had been stripped from your lungs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you’d never again without him by your side. You cried yourself back to sleep, willing this all to be one giant nightmare, but when you woke, he was gone. And you felt completely numb. So while you may have been two pieces of a puzzle, aiming to create the same beautiful picture, you no longer fit together.

You felt yourself starting to get flushed from constantly going in and out of anger then feeling bad and forgiving. It was exhausting, and probably part of the reason things didn’t work out between the two of you. That didn’t mean you loved him any less, though. He was, in fact, your first love, and you guess people were right about that stuff being more powerful and affecting you longer. Hell, you walked into the precinct for a total of three seconds before he was affecting you all over again!

You took a deep breath in before saying, “I guess we both made mistakes and wished we would have handled things differently.”

“What would you have handled differently?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“When I saw that you were in California for a case, instead of … doing what I did, I should have been the one who reached out. I could have just asked you then what was going through your mind and what was going on between us. Who knows how that might have changed things? But, I was petty,” you gave a cold laugh, “I guess I still am sometimes, huh?”

You had definitely been acting that way lately. You felt guilty and ashamed about it, but in that moment of anger four years ago, knowing that Spencer was out there ignoring you, you sent him a hurtful message and then blocked his number. Only a week or so prior, you’d met Jordan who was clearly hitting on you, and you were so firm about moving on that you asked him out. He eagerly agreed, and the rest was history. Or, at least, you thought was history.

Spencer shrugged and dodged the somewhat rhetorical question. “We can’t really dwell on that now.”

You knew he didn’t really mean that, considering he was the type of person who dwelled, but he was right. You were engaged to a great guy and soon to be married. This, Spencer, was something you were just going to have to come to terms with, something you realized you hadn’t come to terms with yet.

You’d been walking so absentmindedly next to him that you hardly noticed you were outside of a hotel. He stopped just outside the lobby entrance and turned to face you.

“Walk you to your room?” you offered. What the fuck did you just say? Why did you say that? You can’t say things like that. Stop it.

Spencer gave you that small, closed lip smile of his which immediately ended your inner scolding, and nodded, holding the door open for you. You walked up the stairs together in silence. When you reached his door, instead of getting out his card, he leaned his back up against the heavy wood.

“Alright, well, it was nice catching up, and I wish you safe travels in the morning,” you said, turning to leave. He quickly reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks, and you spun around to face him.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” Those words pierced through your ears, ringing all too familiar from when it was you who said them.

“Spence-” you started. And then his lips were on yours. Those sweet, soft lips. It had always been so natural between the two of you, and you felt his tongue bypass yours as you pushed further into the kiss. Then you remembered where, and when, you were, no longer that hopelessly devoted kid but an adult with a wonderful man waiting for you when you got home. You pulled away. “Spence-”

“I would have said yes, you know,” he confessed. The question must have been etched on your face, because he continued, “When you asked me that night, given the chance, I would have said yes.”

His words stung, and your whole body ached from rehashing old feelings, to igniting new ones, to the guilt of what just happened weighing on you so heavily you might just crumble beneath it. You murmured out, “Why didn’t you?”

“I thought you were right. I thought I was doing the right thing. Out of all the mistakes I’ve made, all the regrets I have, you, (y/n) (y/l/n), are my biggest one.” His honey brown eyes peered right into yours, like he was looking at something far greater than just your eyes, and repeated, “So right now, if I asked you to stay with me, would you?”

It was too much to handle. After all the time you’d spent wishing he was still yours, he finally could be, but you could no longer be his. Tears were streaming down your face as they once did, the first time you lost him, and you choked out, “I can’t.”

One More Night

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Dirty Little Secret

MASTERLIST

New fic time! This was heavily inspired by the interrogation scene from Date Night and Cat in general, except in this world Cat Adams and the network of hit men from the show doesn’t exist. The reader is just like a Cat Adams though and obviously she’s a bit more of a downplayed villain than Cat, but it’s the same kind of idea. You guys will understand when you start reading. Enjoy all the Spencer feels you will probably get from this because I sure got enough just from writing this.

Special thank you to @multifandommandy as well for inspiration and ideas that I used in this :)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (Smut)

Word Count: 3,341

Your hands were behind your back, handcuffed together. A strong hand gripped the top of your arm as the elevator ascended the floors of the FBI headquarters in Quantico.

A normal person would’ve been scared out of their mind at this point.

You?

Well, you were different than most people.

The elevator dinged, coming to an abrupt stop, announcing the arrival of your designated floor.

The crystal clear metal doors slid open, revealing a small group of people standing in the hallway. Clearly, they were expecting your arrival. You didn’t expect anything less.

The agent who’d brought you in stepped forward out of the elevator with you, the grip on his hand not easing any.

“Take it easy, Grandpa, I bruise easily.”

You shot the gray haired agent a withering glare before returning your gaze to the group of people. The majority of them looked at you with contempt, but you noticed something peculiar in the look of the agent who’d initially arrested you.

Interesting, you thought.

His lips were pursed as his gaze flickered down your frame before flitting up to your face again. He pressed his lips together before pulling them inward, his eyes quickly darting away.

Well that could definitely come in handy.

•

You sighed impatiently as you were seated in the interrogation room, your handcuffs being unfastened. It was a small victory as the chains clasped around your waist and ankles were cuffed to a metal bar of the table.

“Is this really necessary?” you scoffed, “It’s not like I’m here to do bodily harm to any of you.”

“You killed four men, Y/N,” Agent Grandpa said, “You really think we’re going to let you parade around here like we invited you here to have brunch?”

“Brunch sounds good,” you tilted your head, “I could go for some bacon.”

He ignored your comment and kept staring at you. You rolled your eyes in response.

“I only killed them ‘cause it was part of my contract. No big deal.”

You had been a new addition to a group of assassins that operated through the dark web. It was a small organization, but it was still a hidden one. Law enforcement wasn’t even aware of the group’s existence until just recently.

There were several different assassins in the group, most of which you’d met. Each had their own specialty and their own clientele. There was one who had a knack for poison, another who was more hands on with their kills—strangulation seemed to be their kink, another that was nicknamed “The Framer”. He could make any of his hits look like someone else did it, usually a close friend or family member. He was one who really believed in his research.

Your speciality was infidelity and abuse, mainly abuse. You were surprised how many women turned to a hit man to kill their abusive husband instead of law enforcement. One of your kills had been a jaded wife of a politician who was tired of dealing with her husband’s plethora of affairs.

So basically, your speciality was assholes who deserved to die.

“You’re aware that murder is still a crime, right?”

You tapped your fingers on the table.

“I thought we were here to interview me for more information on the group? Not to talk about me.”

“Okay, so talk.”

“Nuh-uh. I’d like to talk to Dr. Reid,” you smirked.

He raised one of his thick eyebrows at you, but didn’t say anything in response. He stood for a moment before turning and leaving the room, the door closing behind him.

Now the fun could really begin.

•

You were examining your nails when the door opened again and with it came Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I heard you’d only talk to me. Why?”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his navy suit pants. He stood in front of the table, looking down at you.

“Why don’t you sit down? Make yourself comfortable. It might be a while,” you grinned slyly, tapping your temple with your finger, “You know. Lots of information up here in the noggin to share.”

He pulled out the chair, sitting down in it.

“I’ve got a secret for you,” you said.

“Oh? I have a secret for you too. You’re going away for possibly 25 years to life unless you help us with this case.”

“Isn’t that why I’m here?”

You shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m here to help, but I’d like to do it on my terms.”

You rested your chin in your hand, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah? What are your terms?”

“One, for every few questions you ask I get to ask a question of my own.”

“Why would you-”

You held up a hand, stopping him.

“Ah, I’m not done. Two, you take these chains off me. I’m not gonna hurt you or any of the federal agents I’m sure that are watching. Besides, I’m getting a cramp.”

He watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“Three. If I give you everything you need, you’ll have my sentence reduced to ten years, not fifteen.”

“Give me a minute.”

He stood, heading to the door.

“Yes, go confer with the other six little ducklings. I’ll just be waiting here,” you called.

It could’ve been half an hour later, you had no idea, but he finally returned. A thick file was in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. It wasn’t until he came towards your side that you noticed he had the key to your prison chains in his hand.

He bent down at your side, unlocking your restraints. You bit your lip gently, watching him. When he looked up, his face wasn’t far from yours.

“Thank you.” Your voice was a breathy whisper and he quickly cleared his throat, standing back up.

“Whew, I thought I was never going to get blood flowing back into my leg,” you said, stretching it out and wiggling it.

He returned to his seat in front of you, opening the file. You turned in your seat to face him.

“Then again I bet you know all about blood flowing to certain areas.”

It was no surprise when he disregarded your comment and started asking questions.

“I’ll go easy on you to start with, how many assassins were in the group?”

“What a shame,” you tutted, “I’d rather you be rough with me.”

“If you’re just here to waste my time, then we can call this whole thing off,” Spencer threatened.

You studied him for a moment.

“Eight,” you finally answered, “That I know of.”

“And you met them all?”

“Those eight, yes.”

“What did they specialize in?”

You yawned, already bored with this tedious process.

You chewed on your lip, pretending to be in deep thought before counting off a few on your fingers.

“Number six did her own thing, but she dealt mainly with drugs. Seven liked to choke and we aren’t talking about some good BDSM play either.”

You smirked as a flush spread across the good doctor’s cheeks. He was so easy to read.

“Eight liked poison. I don’t know their clientele.”

“So what-”

You cut him off yet again.

“I believe it’s my turn to ask a question now.”

He sat back in the chair, crossing his arms, clearly amused.

“Go ahead.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” you asked casually.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this.”

“Hmm,” you let it slide without an answer, “I’m sure it will before this interview is over.”

“So when did you join the group, Y/N?”

“A few months ago, around the end of January.”

“You killed a politician and three average husbands. We found out that Johnny Perez and Thomas Mitchell were abusive to their wives. Benjamin Wood abused both his wife and his daughter. Senator Nathan Pearson had many mistresses and affairs. Is that why you killed them?”

“Wouldn’t you?” you shot back.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine,” you retorted, smirking.

He decided to switch tactics.

“Did any of the others ever work together?”

“Not that I know of.”

You crossed your legs, leaning closer to him across the table.

“You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” you questioned.

He looked up from the note he was writing, looking baffled.

“No, why?”

You hummed, “Explains a lot.”

“Is there a spot where they meet often? Somewhere we can catch the rest of them?” Spencer asked.

“It’s not exactly like we met at McDonalds for chicken nuggets and board meetings.”

You twirled a lock of your hair around your finger, watching him closely. He glared at you, his patience growing thin.

“Was there or not? I’m not here to play games.”

“Oh honey, you already are,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I said if there was, it was probably far,” you lied, “You know far away. They could get paranoid.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you were recruited, didn’t you?”

You sat back in your chair, licking your lips and smiled devilishly at him.

“Yes, Doctor,” you purred.

You could see him tense, his jaw tightening as if he was clenching his teeth.

“Are you always this tense?”

He circled back to you, focusing his questions on you.

“Why did you kill those men, Y/N?”

“Assholes like that don’t deserve to live.”

You weren’t going to deny that you did it because you had and you would again, but you weren’t going to hand them any ammunition to use against you. Being mysterious was the name of your game.

“So you were a vigilante assassin? Hired to make things right?” Spencer questioned, eyes following you as you stood from your chair.

You strolled around the table, fingers trailing along the tabletop.

“People like that deserve the bad things that happen to them, like those men. Imagine if you could right the world, one step at a time.”

“I already do that. I catch serial killers everyday. Killers like you,” he responded.

“See, I’m not like most people,” your hand rested on his shoulder, sliding ever so slightly across it.

“I don’t enjoy killing. I don’t get pleasure from it.”

“Don’t you?”

He’d gone rigid under your touch. Your fingertips grazed across his back as you leaned down and over his shoulder from behind him. Your hand slid down the front of his dress shirt, across his chest.

“I get pleasure from other things, Spencer,” you whispered lowly in his ear.

You pulled back, returning to your seat, but you didn’t miss the small shiver he’d tried to repress.

“I’m not answering any more questions until you answer some of mine.”

You crossed your arms on the table, leaning forward on them.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because of that secret I mentioned earlier. Remember that? I know you better than you think I do, Doctor.”

Your voice dripped with seduction and you knew it was getting to him. You could see just how much you were getting under his skin and frankly, it pleased you greatly.

“Is that so?”

He cocked his head, challenging you, trying to call your bluff.

But you weren’t bluffing.

“I’m good at reading men and their signals. I mean,” you shrugged with one shoulder, “A girl has to be in this line of work.”

“Uh huh,” he goaded you.

“I know your dirty little secret,” you faux whispered, leaning closer towards him.

His face hardened in an attempt to not give any of his true emotions away.

“And what would that be?”

“I know you fantasize about me, Dr. Reid.”

Your words hit a nerve. Even though his face showed no change in expression, the slight widening of his eyes gave him away. If you weren’t so good at analyzing, you probably would’ve missed the small movement all together.

“You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but I didn’t think you were delusional.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you chuckled dryly, “I’m not answering any more questions until you admit you’ve had dirty thoughts about me.”

“Then we’ll be here for a long time.”

“Spencer, please. I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’m good at telling when a man is attracted towards a woman. Tell me,” you smirked, scraping your teeth across your bottom lip, “Do you touch yourself while having those thoughts of me?”

He stood, gathering the file haphazardly.

“If you’re just going to waste the FBI’s time, then this interview is over.”

“What, is your ego bruised because I don’t get off to you? Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of fantasies myself. They’re pretty sexy, if I do say so myself, but nothing beats the real thing,” your eyes moved up his body, “If you know what I mean.”

He was out the door mere seconds after your last word was spoken.

You had him just where you wanted him.

•

“What is she on about?”

Thankfully the observing audience had dwindled down to just Rossi, but Spencer brushed past him, shaking his head.

“Ignore her. She’s full of it.”

He dropped the file on the first desk he saw, walking out the door into the hallway.

He knew he had to get out of there quickly because the room was suddenly way too warm. He was angry. Angry and unfortunately aroused.

He practically ran into the first available empty room, closing the door behind him. He only needed a few minutes to clear his head before he finished this interview. He leaned against the closed door, stomach rolling in his desire. He swore, the tightening in his pants that much more visible. He knew the moment he felt the tingling in the pit of his stomach that he had to make a quick escape.

Y/N’s words rang in his ears as he closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

I’ve had my fair share of fantasies myself.

They’re pretty sexy if I do say so myself.

The thought of her getting off to him did nothing to help his erection and he groaned. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own and was palming the bulge, making him whimper slightly.

“Fuck it.”

•

The door swung open to the interrogation room with a bang causing you to jump.

“I got rid of the other agents, so it’s just you and me now, no one watching.”

You raised your eyebrow, intrigued.

“How did you know?” Spencer practically growled.

“Know what?”

He yanked you up roughly by your arm, making you stand to face him.

“How did you know that all I want to do is slam you against this wall and fuck you as hard as I can?”

Your mouth went dry, all bravado you’d had before suddenly missing. Heat pooled in your stomach. If you could tear off your clothes right now and let him have his way with you, you would.

He didn’t let you answer because he did just as he said he wanted to.

Your back hit the wall roughly, his lips meeting yours haphazardly. His kisses were wild and filled with all the frustration he held against you, emotionally and sexually.

His hands were that much larger against your hips, pulling them closer to him so you could feel his arousal against you. You moaned into the kiss in response.

His fingers threaded in your hair, gripping it, his tongue swirling with yours. He pulled back just the slightest bit, his teeth scraping your bottom lip.

“Fuck, I hate admitting just how wild you’ve driven me,” he groaned, undoing his pants.

You wiggled your hips slightly, trying to push your pants down along with your underwear as he sucked roughly on your neck, his hands massaging your boobs through your shirt. You were pretty sure he could make you cum before he was even inside you.

Barely registering your struggles, one hand yanked down the bottom half of your clothes, kicking them aside with his feet while his mouth still explored yours.

Hooking his hands under the back of your thighs, he hoisted you up, holding you against the wall. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you, not giving you any warning.

You moaned loudly. The feeling was better than anything you’d ever fantasized. Your hips thrust outward from the wall to meet with him causing him to growl. You could probably spontaneously combust at this point. You never could have imagined Dr. Spencer Reid had such a sexy, dominant side. If he wanted to fuck you against this wall until you were raw, you’d let him and probably still beg for more.

“Ohhh my god, yes,” you moaned, your head knocking against the wall as he did magical things to you.

His body moved roughly against yours, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, his grunts and groans giving you tingles. You would’ve tried to be witty right about now, but you discovered your brain was nothing but static. Words couldn’t and wouldn’t come.

“You moan this loud for me when you touch yourself?” he grunted, his rhythm purposely slowing down to a snail’s pace.

You were quite amazed that he managed to have enough self control to tease you.

“No,” you whimpered, trying to pull his hips back towards you.

His hands pushed your hips back against the wall firmly, further separating the two of you.

“What’s that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“No, I didn’t. Spencer, please.”

It was almost torture being so close to falling apart and having him stop almost completely. His hand touched your cheek, his thumb moving over your lips, tugging your bottom lip down just a bit before his lips covered yours again. His hips thrust forward against yours once more, hitting such deep spots that your legs were shaking.

He gritted his teeth as he pulled away, clenching them.

“Oh god, it’s so much better than I even imagined,” he gritted out, pulling out of you slowly, to thrust back in harder.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” you encouraged, your back arching, pressing your chest against his.

Your hand tangled in his curls, your moans coming closer together.

“Make me cum, Dr. Reid,” you requested breathlessly.

His fingers expertly reached down to add to your pleasure, fully intending to rock your world.

Your breaths came in more erratic spurts, mixed with your moans as you came apart, tensing around him.

He came hard too, his groans of pleasure ripped from his throat as his head fell back roughly against the door.

It took a moment for Spencer’s surroundings to come back in focus when he opened his eyes, peering down at the mess he’d made all over his hand. He felt his whole face flush when he realized what had just happened.

He grabbed a tissue off the table, cleaning up his mess and getting resituated, zipping up his pants properly, buttoning them once again.

He cursed himself for the fact he’d just gotten off to her. Even worse, an extremely erotic fantasy of her. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it.

“Dammit,” he mumbled.

So, it wasn’t his finest moment. But at least he felt less tense and more relaxed now.

He picked up the file on his way back in to finish his interview. There she was waiting, fingernails tapping against the table.

•

You saw right through him because the moment he walked through the door again a grin slowly spread across your face. His cheeks were still flushed and a slight sheen of sweat coated his forehead.

Unless he’d just sprinted to and from the nearest coffee shop, you had a good idea what he’d just been up to.

You didn’t say anything while he sat back down in front of you again, opening the file and looking up at you. You motioned him closer with a crook of your finger so he could hear your next words. He obeyed and leaned in close.

“Your dirty little secret is safe with me.”

Tag List: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @whatspunispun @iamburdened @cindywayne @thomasfoockinshelby @tinyminy88 @theitcaramelchick @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @theonlyone-meeeee @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @multifandommandy

#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fics #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid fics #dr spencer reid gifs #dr spencer reid smut #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds gifs #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

Text

Fifteen (part 10)

A/N: Part of this chapter is inspired by the song 2 Years by Thomston. Thank you to the lovely anon that told me this song reminded them of this fic! I highly recommend listening to it!

word count: 3.9k

tw: mentions of childbirth, slight season 9 spoilers, otherwise fluffy

masterlist: “A few months later we were in Boston, on that strangulation case. It’s a pretty hard case to forget, I mean, you delivered a baby. A real human baby, that you brought earthside with your own two hands. You delivered him, and she named him after you. Baby Spencer.

Morgan and I dragged the unsub out into the street, hearing that poor woman scream and cry as you brought her baby into the world, but you did great, and he was beautiful. Just like his namesake. When I walked back inside I saw you give her the baby, and my heart just about melted into a puddle on the floor. You and kids, it just does something to me. It feels like my heart comes out of my body and into your hands like putty. It's an odd feeling, like you’re physically poking around in my chest. In a weird way I’ll miss it.

Then I saw JJ give you a side hug, and put her arm on your chest. She even leaned into your neck, with a soft, sweet little nuzzle. You probably didn’t notice it, but I did. I always noticed. A million little ways to say ‘I love you’ without actually saying ‘I love you’. Right?

Yet again, I said nothing. I had no logical reason to be worried. She was married. You told me daily how much you loved me, how special I was, how beautiful, how amazing, how lucky you were. It’s a shame you didn’t feel like that at the end. But I made it okay. I told myself I was just overthinking it all, like usual. I buried it all down. Again, and again, and again.

That night we went to that bar Rossi loves and everyone was happy, talking about how you delivered a baby.

Alex asked you, “How on earth did you know what to do?”

You explained how you memorized all the delivery manuals when JJ was pregnant, just in case. I often wonder if you’d do half the things you do for her, if it were for someone else. Or are some things just for JJ?

I just smiled and laughed, still pushing the feelings away. It was a night to celebrate and I was determined to not be a party pooper. Instead, I went the other way. I was the life of that party. We all got on stage and sang ‘Piano man’ karaoke, and if anyone was making love to a tonic and gin that night, it was me. Many, many, tonic and gins. I stumbled into an Uber with you and ended up at home. You helped me into bed. You wiped off my makeup and undressed me, putting one of your large shirts on me, leaving a bottle of water, two advils, and a note that said “i love you, love” for me to see when I woke up. Stuff like that makes me wonder if you’d only ever do some things for me. It sounds selfish, but I hope wiping my makeup off and putting my moisturizer on for me is something reserved for us. I know there are many things I have reserved just for you, Spence. No one will ever be that kind to me again, and that’s a fact.”

Are some things just for JJ? Really? He was irritated for a passing moment, why were you mad about him caring about his best friend? Before he had even met you?

But then that anger was soon replaced with confusion. Why’d you never mention it? In all the fights you had, you never once mentioned JJ. You never once threw the feelings that were so clear to everyone in his face. Why? Why not?

Every word made him feel like he didn’t really know you, but also made him wonder if you even knew him? Because if you did you would’ve known he did nothing for JJ, but everything for you.

“I immediately fell asleep.

I woke up at some point, maybe around four am, and you weren’t in the bed next to me. I remember patting the sheets, looking for you as I usually did at night. To sleep, I needed to feel you pressed up against me. I didn’t. I panicked. I looked at the note, and for half a second I thought you left. It did look a little like a goodbye note, Spence. I yelled your name a few times, and when I didn’t get a response I really started to worry. I got out of bed and stumbled around; my head was still fuzzy. I walked around the house calling your name. You still didn’t answer. I finally found you on the balcony.

It was warm for April, and you were sitting on a chair in your pajamas, staring at the stars.

“Talking to the moon again?” I said, and you turned to look at me.

The moon was a waxing crescent (thank you for that) so I couldn’t see you well. If it had been full, maybe I would’ve seen your sad eyes.

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” You whispered.

I sat in the other chair, “I woke up and you weren’t there, so I came to find you. You scared me half to death, Reid.”

I was looking at you but you wouldn’t look at me. I needed you to look at me.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Only if you come with me.”

I was trying to be funny, but the pit in my stomach was insane. I really felt like I was staring the end in the face. That was the first time I ever saw you like that, completely shut out from me. You were always forthcoming with me, no matter what was going on. Your voice was rough, like you were getting a cold. You cleared your throat.

“I think I want to stay out here a while longer.”

“Okay, then I’ll stay with you.”

“Y/N...” You were warning me, I should’ve listened.

I stood up to walk back inside and I patted your shoulder. I disappeared to get a tub of ice cream and two spoons. We both knew your stomach would hurt afterwards, but we didn’t care. The comfort that binging on ice cream when you’re sad brings is well worth a tummy ache. And even in my half drunk brain fog, I could tell you needed it.”

Spencer chuckled, remembering how you always kept two tubs in the freezer “just in case.” Whenever one of you was having one of those days, the other would grab a tub, and you’d sit in silence and eat. That was back when each other’s company was enough. He still kept one tub in his freezer, hoping in some weird way that you’d be back and the two of you could sit and eat in silence, and somehow that would make it all okay.

“We sat in silence staring at the sky and taking turns grabbing spoonfuls of cookie dough ice cream. It was comfortable, domestic, calm.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

You shook your head, “Nothing’s bothering me.”

“You only talk to the moon when you’re upset, Spence.”

You sighed, knowing I was right. The ice cream was for bad days, but the moon was for when you needed to think. And think alone. You said staring up at the moon helped you feel grounded; it reminded you how important we are. It always reminded me of how small I am, how I am literally a speck of dust on a planet that’s a slightly bigger speck of dust that’s hurling through time and space. It reminds me of how small we all are in the grand scheme of the universe. Then you’d tell me: “Everything that makes up us is from those stars. We’re literally made of stardust.” Then I’d feel important too, because you made me important. I mattered because I was in this place at this time with you. You’d tell me about the big bang and the million miracles that led to us being here, alive in this moment. You’d say it reminded you how lucky you were that you got to exist in this world with me. I don’t know if I believe in God, Spence, but if there is one I thank him for letting me exist at the same time as you, even if it was only for a finite time.”

He had to remind himself to breathe. How could words suffocate? How could ink take his breath away? Spencer wished it was nighttime, so he could talk to the moon again, so he could feel important again, so he could feel lucky.

“You didn’t answer.

“Was it the case?”

You just nodded slightly, as if to say ‘sort of’.

“This is literally as good as it can go. We got the guy and you brought someone’s baby into the world. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a happier ending.”

“No.”

That’s all you said, and I let the silence fester. We both just kept eating the ice cream. After about fifteen minutes you said, “The world looks different from here.”

“From the balcony? Yeah I guess, the city looks small, tiny ant people.”

You chuckled, “No, like from where I am right now in my life. I just see the world different than I did yesterday.”

“And I’m sure we’ll look at it differently again tomorrow.” I was trying to help, but it was 4:30 in the morning and I was still slightly buzzed. No amount of ice cream or an existential crisis was going to get rid of that.

“I held a human being in my hands as it took its first breaths today, Y/N. I was the first thing he ever saw. I literally held his life in my hands.”

“I know. Maybe you should take up obstetrics.” Another failed attempt at a joke.

“It just made me think.”

“About what?”

“I just, I always thought I wanted kids,” you said it doubtfully and with a shrug. You looked at me in my eyes finally, and wow did it hurt.

“But now I’m not so sure.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw almost dropped. How did delivering a baby make you no longer want a village of kids on Christmas morning? I thought it’d have the opposite effect. I thought it’d ignite your baby fever, like it ignited mine. My heart sank, “Why?”

“I-I don’t know.”

I tried, again, to lighten the mood, “Is it because of the actual birth part? Because I promise I can handle it. No epidurals for me.”

You half smiled, “No, no it’s not that.”“Well then what is it?” I had this dreadful feeling that you were going to tell me that it was me. That I was the reason. That you wanted kids, but you didn’t want them with me.

“How am I supposed to pass on these genes?”

“Your super smart, tall, handsome, magnificent genius genes? C’mon Spence,” I scoffed.

“I meant schizophrenia.”

The air went cold between us.

“You don’t have it though.”

“Having a grandparent with the disease increases your chances of developing it by 5%.”

“Yeah, and I have bad eyesight and terrible allergies and had braces as a kid, which our kids will inherit.”

“You don’t understand what I mean.”

I rolled my eyes, “No, Love, I don’t. But I do know that you can’t be scared of what ifs.”

You ran your hands through your hair, and just groaned. You sighed, but I kept rambling. I blame my loose lips on Rossi. He kept buying, and I kept drinking.

“And there’s so many what ifs. What if they do get schizophrenia? But what if they don’t and you didn’t have kids because you were scared?”

“It’s not just that it’s—”

“It’s what Spencer?”

“I-I didn’t have a dad! I don’t know how to be one.”

We sat in silence. I didn’t know what to say.

“I just don’t think it’s for me anymore.”

I felt tears sting my eyes. If we weren’t on the same page, this conversation was going to end horribly. “

But if you don’t want them then—“ I stopped and shakily wiped my face.

“Then what?” You sounded scared.

I stopped myself from saying something that I’d regret. I wanted to say ‘then I can’t do this.’ Thank god I didn’t.

“I just, I always thought my kids would be your kids too. I don’t think I want to be a parent if you aren’t there with me.”

Your eyes were shining from the tears and the sliver of moon when they met mine, “Really?”“

Yeah, I’ve told you this a million times, love. You will be the best father because you know what it’s like to not have one. You become better than the people before you.”

You dropped the spoon into the almost empty tub, “I know, I know. I just got in my head about it all.”

“Stop thinking about years ahead, Spence. All you have to think about is right now. I know it feels like we’re running out of time, but don’t rush life.”

You smiled watery and I went to sit on your lap. You rubbed your hand against the small of my back and we watched the sun start to rise. We were done talking to the moon. I dragged you inside, the new day’s sun was coming in through the windows.

“Do you really think you’re running out of time?” You asked me, holding me close.

I nodded, “Yeah. I always feel like I am. I thought I’d have two kids and a golden retriever by thirty-one, but I have none of that and I’m getting close to thirty-two. Twenty-four hours just feels shorter and shorter everyday.”

“That’s because each day is a smaller and smaller fraction of our memories. Time feels quicker and quicker every day.”

There you were. There was my love. My you.

I squeezed you, “I know. It’s just scary. I feel like I’m behind.”

“I feel like that a lot too. You know I thought I’d cure schizophrenia by twenty-five?”

I smiled, “Even you can’t do everything, love.”

“Do you want to catch up?”

“How so?”

“We could get a golden retriever.”

I laughed, “Sure, and next you’ll be saying ‘let’s have a baby.’”

You shrugged and swooped me in front of you, “Why not? Me, you, a baby, sounds pretty good.”

You said it as a joke, but it didn’t feel like one. “

You mean that?” I looked up at you and could see that longing in your eyes. You could see it in mine too. Always so pensive, Spencer Reid.

“I didn’t mean like right now, but we can soon. We have to get married first.”

I rolled my eyes, “Who says we need to get married first? JJ and Will didn’t get married until Henry was four. They’re perfect.”

“Henry wasn’t planned.”

“And?”

“And, I’d like to marry you before knocking you up,” you said it like a joke again, peppering me in kisses.

“We don’t need a stupid piece of paper from the government, Love.”

“So you don’t want to marry me?” There was amusement in your voice.

“Oh, I want to marry you. I want to marry you so hard, Spencer Reid.”

We laughed, “I want to marry you so hard too.”

You kissed my forehead, and then my lips before moving away from me.

“So, we both know we want to marry each other and we just agreed to have a baby, like soon?” I clarified.

“Yes. We did. So, what’s stopping us from doing it right now?” You started milling around in the book case, looking for something. “

Don’t you dare get down on one knee right now, Spencer Reid. I told you already, I am not getting engaged without my nails done.”

You smiled, “I wasn’t! I wasn’t! I was just going to put on some music.” You held up a CD, and I smiled. You came back and pulled me close, and we started to sway back and forth. I always wanted to dance in the kitchen with the love of my life. That morning I did.

After the song ended, we went up to bed finally. I remember laying down and kissing you, going to the place we usually went. Afterwards, you held me against your chest again, “Did you mean it?”

I nodded, “Every word.”

You sighed happily, “So did I.”

I looked up at you, grinning, “So does that mean puppy Reid and baby Reid are coming soon?”

You rolled your eyes, “Puppy Reid, I can handle. But baby Reid is after Mrs. Reid. Call me old fashioned, but that’s how I want to do this.”

I toyed with your hair, “I can handle that.”

While I was packing, I found the CD you were rummaging for. I put it on and danced around the kitchen again. It wasn’t the same. ‘Your Song’ by Elton John is a love song, and love songs just hurt when you’re alone. I swayed in the sunlight, imagining you were swaying with me, talking about having a baby and getting married. I miss that feeling. I miss talking to the moon. I miss ice cream. I miss dancing in the kitchen to Elton John. I miss baggy tee shirts. I miss little notes. I miss the way “How wonderful life is when you’re in the world” felt when I was in your arms. I miss late night kissing. I miss the way you feel with me. I miss us. I miss you, but I miss that you.

You’re probably wondering what your souvenir from that night is. I thought about giving you the CD, I thought about giving you some ice cream and a spoon, I even thought about giving you the moon, but I decided on the note. “I love you, love.”

The note was badly wrinkled and his pencil chicken scratch was faded with time. He smiled, remembering the hundreds of notes he probably left you. They always ended in “I love you” with a little doodled heart. He remembered dancing in the sunlight and looking at engagement rings and rescue dogs. He missed you, and not just the version of you from that memory. He missed the version of you from the end. He hated that you didn’t miss that him too.

“I thought going through all of this would bring me some closure, and now that we’re halfway through I realize that was a mistake. Instead of stitching me up, this opened wounds I thought I had long since healed. This brought it all back. I hope this doesn’t do that for you. I hope it’s the period on the end of this run on sentence. I hope this is closure for you. We both need that.”

He took the letter and the note and walked to his bed, flopping on it and staring at the ceiling fan. It was soothing, in a weird way. He fell into a trance.

His phone ringing tried to snap him out of it. He didn’t reach for it and waited until the vibrations died. They came again, and he forced himself to look at it.

JJ.

Great, first Derek, now JJ. He knew they were just being good friends, but it was getting tiring. He wanted to just be alone, and he especially didn’t want to hear from JJ. His relationship with her was a point of contention with you and he didn’t even know. Between what he had just read and the photo from her wedding, all the old feelings he had for her were brought back to the surface and made him feel gross. He now realized the way your face would turn sour whenever he would pick JJ up in a spin and your off remarks when he’d mention going out with her. In hindsight, you were being jealous but somewhat reasonable. Before he met you, he wondered if he was just waiting for an alternate universe where he could be with JJ. One where there was no Will and no bad Redskins date, where he could look at her without it hurting. Now he knew he’d only be waiting for an alternate universe where he could be with you.

The phone buzzed again and he finally decided to grab it and answer.

“Hello?”His voice was groggy and hoarse from not being used.

“Spence? Hey, it’s me, I just wanted to see if you were okay?”

He didn’t answer, eyes still trained on the fan.

She cleared her throat, “I just talked to Derek and...”

“What’d he say?”

“He told me about the letters, little dramatic huh?”

He could hear her roll her eyes. JJ was the sweetest person alive, but when it came to Spencer the claws could come out.

“Yeah, I’m up to number ten,” he kept his voice steady and almost bored, not wanting to reveal anything to her.

“Out of how many?”

“Fifteen.”

Spencer stood up and walked to the window by the chess table.

“How are you doing?”

“Did you know every seven to ten years our cells regenerate completely?” Spencer spoke into the phone, staring out the window. It was mid afternoon by now and the snow had stopped. The cars on the road had ruined the innocent white snow, leaving dark gray slush in their wake.

“Every cell?” JJ said back, the phone making her voice crackly and hard to hear.

“Yeah, skin cells live two to three weeks,” He swallowed thickly, “So the skin she has right now is skin I’ve never touched. Those cells don’t know who I am. My lips are already on the second cycle. They’ve never kissed her. Eventually I’ll have a body that doesn’t recognize hers and she’ll have a body that recognizes someone who isn’t me.”

JJ didn’t speak, just sighed, “You know that isn’t true.”

“It is, Jennifer,” He ran his hands through his hair, “I’m going to be stuck here and she’s going to move on and it’s killing me.” His voice cracked at the end.

“Then don’t think of it as being stuck, think of it as a turning point. You get to choose a direction now. You’re at a crossroads, Spence, you can choose to move on.”

She sounded earnest and he knew she was right, but he couldn’t help the feeling. It’s like he was in quicksand and no one could pull him out.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

JJ sighed, “Do you want to talk about the letters?”

“No,” he said harsher than he intended, “I just want to finish this and then figure out what I’m supposed to do.”

“Well, if you need any help, you know where to find me.”

He nodded as if she could see him and whispered, “Bye.”

He hung up before she could respond. He threw the phone on the window sill and walked to the bathroom, splashing cold water over his face. He stared at his own reflection in the mirror. It looked foreign. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, his skin looked pale, and his hair looked like he had just rolled out of bed, which he kind of had. He felt like his whole body was bruised. He toyed with his hair to get it to a tolerable place and sat back down on his bed, grabbing the tenth letter.

part 11!

taglist! (just let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings @ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67 @blushingwueen @peaxhyjaes @justanotherfangurlz @juniorgman187 @mbowles23-blog @blameitonthenight21 @goldentournesol

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer #reid #reid x you #reid fic #cm #cm fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #mgg #fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

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star-birthmark · 4 years

Text

Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader

Finally... FINALLY IT IS DONE! This is infernal ask that has been in my inbox for so long!!! Thank you to @stardustbrosaders for the request all those months ago lol. This was the request: “Heya! Would it be possible to write a P4! Jotaro x Female! Reader where the reader gets her stand under stress from a battle? The group almost gets defeated but the reader’s stand appears and she beats the enemy, saving everyone? For the readers stand type could it be close range like SP and CD?”

I also drew the reader’s stand for this fic. You can find a link to the stand info here.

This is a long ass fic btw. It’s literally 11 THOUSAND WORDS. I don’t know what compelled me to make the fic this long. I really don’t. But I did and here we are. I hope you like it, no matter how long it is!

Quick content warnings: General violence and angst, strangulation, murder (duh)

Without further ado: Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader (11k words)

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but it had just been a long day, and no progress had been made to capture that force. The team’s morale was low. The exhausted high school students stumbled home to catch a good night’s rest, thoughts of ongoing danger in their small town looming over their heads. The young manga artist Rohan Kishibe grumbled to himself about his failures, wondering how a genius like him could not decipher this mystery like he had last time. You felt a heavy air of unrest lay over the town as you awkwardly shifted in your seat on the ride to the Grand Hotel, looking over at your travel mate as he silently ran over the facts in his head. He shook his head in frustration. None of this made any sense. All the victims had been killed in the same way, so it must be a stand, one that didn’t leave behind any evidence, one potentially even more dangerous than Kira.

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but you didn’t know anything about the first monstrous event that had occurred. The small town’s silent saviors all agreed with one another to seal their lips and tell no one what had really happened. Not that anyone would have believed them.

But you would have. Your travel partner didn’t know anything yet, but the more time you two spent in this strange town, the crazier you felt you were becoming. You were seeing objects levitate in the air, you were seeing arms stick out from these bizarre teenagers. At this point, you’d believe anything just to make it all stop. You stumbled inside from the taxi, convinced this small town was driving you insane.

Your partner turned to you in front of your hotel room, his own room right next door, and placed his large hands on your shoulders.

“Are you alright (y/n)? If any of this investigation gets to be too much for you, just tell me and I’ll send you on the next flight back home.”

You snort tiredly. “Too much for me? Jotaro you look exhausted… You haven’t been taking breaks from the case at all… You’re always so anxious. Do you promise you’ll actually go to bed this time?”

Jotaro looked down at you and moved his hands from you, sighing heavily. “Yeah… I promise…”

You give him a shy smile before shrugging. “Besides… you need me, don’t you? Weren’t you the one that said I’m the only one that calms you down?”

Jotaro gulped and broke eye contact with you, his own silent way of admitting that you were right. You chuckled and opened the door to your hotel room, giving him one last look and goodnight before you left to go to bed. You would wake up about two hours later from the sound of your partner’s shuffling about in his room next door. You slipped on a thick crew neck over your thin tank top and shorts and open to the door connecting to the two rooms.

You peaked your head past the door to find a familiar sight before you. Pictures were tacked onto a corkscrew board, red thread connecting the dots to draw the group one step closer to solving the crimes. Files were splayed out over the desk, a map of the small Japanese town resting on the nearby bed, etched with red Xs displaying the sites where several young men and women met their demise. Amongst the mess, you found the broad shoulders of a tired Jotaro Kujo hunched over the desk, the young man still looking at the mountains of documents, eager to find the path to justice. It was hidden in those pages, he was sure of it. It had been your third night together in that hotel, and it was evident that you two would be there for much longer.

---

“Miss (L/N) it says here that you have received your degree in zoology and graduated at the top of your major.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it says here that you recently led an academic study of marine biology that went very well back home.”

“Yes sir, and it would be an honor to join this esteemed team of scientists here at SPW.”

It was the year 1998, and you were interviewing to work at the Speedwagon Foundation. You had graduated atop your class, and had a passion for your work that few possessed, as well success that few could show for. You prayed that this interview was going well. The Foundation was the utmost important center of scientific research in the world and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to work there. You watched the smile on your interviewer’s face as he reviewed your credentials before setting the paper down.

“Miss (L/N) I’d like to welcome you aboard our team. I believe you will contribute much to our efforts.”

Your face lit up in excitement and you rushed to shake his hand. “Thank you so much sir, I won’t let you down! If I could ask what position you’re hiring me for?”

“You see we have an opening for an assistant with the Kujo lab. Since you’re just starting off here- you’ll be assisting him in meetings and in bench work-”

“Excuse me... the Kujo lab? As in Jotaro Kujo? Isn’t he my age?” You interrupt nervously.

“Why yes miss… is there an issue?”

“Well no sir it’s just… I thought perhaps I’d be working under an esteemed professor… I didn’t think someone fresh out of grad school would already have a lab to himself… Not to sound ungrateful of course, I just didn’t realize I would be working under one of my contemporaries…”

A sigh came to the man and leaned back in his chair, thinking about how to explain the situation.

“Miss (y/n), the reason I’m placing you in Kujo’s lab is that I feel the two of you would work well together, given your similar backgrounds and parallel personalities…” You furrow your brow, unsure what the supervisor meant until you were face to face with Jotaro Kujo himself a few days later.

You still remembered the day well. You hung your coat up on a nearby hook and looked about the lab. Documents were piled over every available surface with no particular organization. A large fish tank stood in the far corner, a wild variety of fish encased within. Anatomical posters of aquatic life were all over the walls, and right by the window sat Jotaro. He hadn’t looked up when you came in. Approaching his desk, you stared down at the mass of black hair on the top of his head. Soon clearing your throat, the young doctoral student’s head shot up to look at you blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, taken aback by his unemotional expression, nervously turning to a notebook you had on hand.

“Uh… um… My name is (y/n) (l/n), your new coworker. I would like to thank you for allowing me into your lab. I had been going over your most recent papers on the social patterns of starfish on the eastern-most coast of Japan and I was just wondering if-”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

You looked up from your notes and into the young man’s deep blue eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You struggled to form a sentence under the intense gaze, your breath shuttering out from your lips, and you looked back down at your notes.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n)... your new coworker.”

Jotaro nodded slowly, considering what you had just said. You watched as he removed his large white overcoat and leaned back in his chair, donned in a fitted black t-shirt.

“Why did they hire you?” You lean forward confused, your ear facing him.

“I’m sorry?”

“Why did they hire you?”

You look away for a moment, considering his now nervous expression, his nervous tick of chewing on his lip, his small twitches of the eye, his clenching and unclenching of his jaw. You looked down, finding his leg bouncing anxiously against the floor. A small, sweet smile came to you, and you opened your mouth to speak, alerting his attention.

“You and I apparently have parallel personalities… according to them.”

You watched as Jotaro’s lips curved into a shy smile and he got up from his seat, grabbing a notepad from a nearby drawer. He then turned to you and extended his arm out, pointing. You followed the direction of his hand and saw a separate desk facing his at the other end of the office. You turned back and quickly nodded, rushing to set your things down and then turning to face him once more.

Jotaro nodded courteously at you. “Have you read my most recent work?”

“Yes, I just told you that I did that-”

“Good. Come to the meeting with me then.”

You followed after him into a nearby boardroom, unsure of the situation about to befall you. The meeting began. Executives discussed their most recent funding prospects, deciding whether or not to continue their spending, depending on how successful the trials had been. You sat patiently in your chair, listening to the others argue frankly amongst themselves. A steady, fast tapping upon the table commanded your attention and you turned over to see Jotaro staring off into the distance, his fingers rapidly tapping on the desk, his whole form shaking with sensory overload.

“Mr. Kujo? And you?” You watched as Jotaro’s head shot up and he looked around the room. He hadn’t been listening, his mind had been too overcome with anxieties.

“I um… I uh… W-what were-”

You watched nervously as this man came undone at his seams. You cleared your throat and tapped the table next to his notepad. Getting the message, Jotaro grabbed the notepad quickly and anxiously flipped through its pages.

“Um… sorry about that. I would like to further my research- wait no this is on the wrong page. Wait no it’s not… wait-”

You looked around as the listeners began to get frustrated, looking at each other in jest of one of their top researchers. You chewed nervously on your finger, hoping Jotaro would pull himself together. It was your first day working with him, and it was already troublesome.

“I would like to further the research done in my penultimate paper. Or was it my most recent...”

“Mr. Kujo, we would have liked for you to have prepared for this meeting…”

“No no… I did. I did. Wait-”

With a quick motion, you reached over and placed a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder, calmly taking the notepad from him and then turning to the group. Jotaro looked away, still visibly shaken.

“Mr. Kujo clearly states in his most recent paper that he plans to continue his research, at a different coastal region, comparing more behaviors there to make sure that this past successful trial wasn’t any sort of spontaneous fluke. He writes in his goals of perhaps inspecting the regional colonies of starfish around S-Town… Following that, he plans to remain in contact with the genomic department and track genetic similarities between human and aquatic life that may explain the similar social patterns between the two.”

You explain to them all, having memorized the paper. Turning to the notepad, you saw what Jotaro had written in preparation for the meeting. You then turned back to the investors.

“Mr. Kujo kindly asks that you aid him in his funding so that mankind as a whole may find a better understanding of the natural world… That’s all he wanted to say. He just couldn’t find the right page. Sir.”

You reached back and placed the notepad back near Jotaro’s shaking hand. You returned your hand back to the other’s shoulder, squeezing gently to reassure the scientist that he was alright. The young man turned to you in a bit of surprise, not expecting your presence to calm him oh so much. The executives all took in your words and the head of the meeting slowly nodded.

“Well… thank you for your assistance, miss…?”

“(l/n).”

“Right well thank you… We will consider Mr. Kujo’s work for a second trial.”

“Thank you. He appreciates it.” With that, you let go of Jotaro’s shoulder.

The meeting soon adjourned, You got up to leave your seat when you felt Jotaro’s hand grab your shoulder. You turned around to see him slowly stand up from his chair.

“Thank you. I’m not a big fan of speaking to them…”

You nodded quickly. “Yes… of course…”

From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Having experienced the horrific acts done to him and to those he loved back in his teenage years, Jotaro was convinced that you were the only one who could calm his constant nerves and anxieties. You became his most powerful tool against the outside world. You understood his work perfectly, understood his mannerisms perfectly, and respected his need for silence in the office. You knew how to say things the way he would himself, and you had no fear discussing them to other people. The two of you became much closer over the months of your working. Jotaro became much less of an enigma in your eyes. It would be a few months until Jotaro would unwillingly reveal his more “secret” projects.

The first time you saw the arrow, Jotaro did not want you to see it. But still, what happened that day would forever change your relationship with the young scientist. You had arrived early, hoping to surprise him with a hot breakfast and a smile. You turn the corner to walk into the lab, yet when you go to open the door, you find it locked. Strange. Looking inside the room, you find Jotaro hunched over his desk in focus, in the same clothes as the day before, having not yet unlocked the door. Even more strange. You knocked on the door, only for him to leave the room with another door in a hurry, ignoring your pleas. With a grumble, you dug for your keys, figuring his weird behavior was just fatigue, and that he probably slept over at work again. When you finally get into the lab, you place your things down, and that's when you see it lingering underneath his desk in a rushed hiding spot.

Encased within a thickly walled wooden box, an arrow remained, barely hidden from your gaze, as Jotaro had had no time to hide it from you. The latch was undone, another sign that Jotaro had run away from the scene.

Jerk. Didn’t he trust you enough to show you something like this? It’s just a bow and arrow! Why was he hiding it? You called out for him to return to the room and explain what the bow and arrow was for. Hearing no response, you turned back to the wooden box, reaching your hand in to inspect the bow and arrow.

It all happened so fast. In the blink of an eye.

There were no in-between movements. One moment you had pricked your finger on the razor sharp tip of the arrow, the next moment you were standing up, the box had been tightly locked, and Jotaro stood right in front of you, chest to chest, intensely staring you down. Your breath became ragged as you maintained eye contact with him. What just happened? You didn’t even hear him come in. The box was right before your very eyes, and you didn’t even see that it was locked. How did he even turn you around without you knowing?! A chill went down your spine as you hesitated to speak even a word to the man before you.

“Do you see what was in there?”

Jotaro asked you calmly. You felt a cold sweat form on your forehead. Jotaro, ever the impatient man, grabbed your jacket collar, shaking you out of your scared daze.

“I’m asking you now (y/n)! Did you see what was in there?!”

“No, I didn’t see anything! I don’t know what just happened! I swear! I saw you run away from the room and went to see what was in there and the next thing I knew you had come back and it was all so fast and I don’t understand and I-... Jotaro… you’re scaring me.”

Your body convulsed at his rough contact, your hands reaching up to push him away, but his tight grip on your jacket remained steadfast. Pure instinct had compelled you to lie to him about seeing the content of the box, but the terror and confusion you had displayed was genuine. You still didn’t understand how he was able to move that fast, or affect you with you even knowing. Just who was this man?

Jotaro stared down at you for a moment longer, before releasing you from his grip and taking a few steps back. You stumbled back, grabbing the edge of his desk to stabilize your fall. Your heart continued to race in your chest as you heaved, still struggling to make sense of what just happened.

Jotaro silently called out Star Platinum, having his stand hover right in front of you as you kept staring at him in confusion. Your expression didn’t change once he called out his stand. So you were telling the truth. You really hadn’t seen the arrow. Or at least, hadn’t touched it.

Jotaro sighed, rubbing the side of his head with a groan. He hadn’t stopped time in so long, but it seemed he was worried over nothing. “I’m sorry to frighten you, (y/n).”

You finally straightened yourself out, gulping. “Who the hell are you? Really?!”

“...I’m Jotaro Kujo. That is all.”

Another chill ran down up your spine, but you played it off. If he wanted to continue things as per usual, you’d have to do the same.

“Right… I brought breakfast. And there’s a morning meeting in half an hour so freshen up.”

You walked past him to retrieve the food you had bought for them. Looking down to pick it up, you noticed a red blood stain on your jacket. It must have been from your bleeding finger when you’d pricked it on the arrow. However, when you turned to look at the finger itself, you found that it was fully healed, not even scarred, even after such a precise and direct cut. Jotaro politely asked you for the food, claiming hunger, and you rushed to take your coat off and hide it away. You got the sense that he’d question further if he saw the fresh blood stain.

After that fateful morning, things continued on as per usual. You still had your questions, but after a few weeks had passed without another incident, you resolved that whatever that bow and arrow were must have been top secret for the Speedwagon Foundation. You figured no company could be as powerful as they were without keeping a few secrets. And this was one of them.

So you resolved to ask no questions about that one day. The same way you didn’t put up much of a fight when, in the summer of 1999, after months of you two planning to stay there together, Jotaro told you that he would be going to Morioh alone to research for his PhD, without you. You were furious, enraged how the two of you could become so close since you began working there, yet he still didn’t trust you to go with him. You argued with him the night before he was set to leave, but his resolve never crumbled. You weren’t going to Morioh, that was final.

In the three months that he was gone, Jotaro regularly sent you his findings, and you sorted them back at Speedwagon Headquarters. When he finally came back, more visibly shaken than he was before, you could only wonder what the coworker you had grown so attached to had experienced in Morioh in the summer of 1999.

Circling back to the present day, it was the winter of 2000, and there was yet again a dark force afoot in the town of Morioh. Only this time, Jotaro would not go alone.

“You have to let me come with you this time.”

“Explain why. Explain why I have to let you come with me this time. I did just fine on my own before.”

You gritted your teeth at the other’s stubbornness. “Will you please just listen to me? Jotaro when you came back from Morioh, you were even harder to deal with than before! Any sound in the office set you on edge and you screamed when someone set off fireworks near our building! And you still haven’t explained to me what happened there! Now let me come with you! I can help!”

Jotaro turned his attention away from his work, finally looking at you for the first time in that conversation. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become, how much you meant to him. You were his ticket into communicating with the world to his fullest, and after recalling several confusing conversations with Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi, Jotaro realized he actually needed you in order to articulate himself to the others without getting too anxious or angry.

“Alright fine. We’re leaving tomorrow at 2. You better be ready.”

But nothing could have prepared you for the horrors you were about to encounter in that small town. To your shock and disgust, you learned that aside from his research, Jotaro was investigating a murderer. And then you met Josuke and the others. That was when you first felt that you were going crazy. When you saw glimpses of third arms extend out from these teenagers, saw one of them heal a broken leg with ease, saw another erase space itself. People all over this small town were vanishing in thin air, and the incidents were happening more and more frequently. It didn’t make any sense, but no one was commenting on it, so you felt you were just imagining things. The same way you must have imagined Jotaro moving at lightspeed that morning you pricked your finger on the arrow.

Finally, we return to the current scene of Jotaro hunched over his desk, his room in the Morioh Grand Hotel littered with documents, the board nearby covered in photos and string, the bedside clock reading 2:33 am. You approached him carefully in the tense silence, knowing not to startle him whenever he was in deep thought.

“...Jotaro-”

“Dammit dammit dammit! I’m sick of it! Where the hell is he?!”

Jotaro slammed his fist down on the desk, his chest heaving in frustration. Why did this keep happening to him?! He just wanted to live a normal life, and he thought after Kira, he could. But like so many times before, Jotaro Kujo was wrong. Perhaps it was his destiny to be unfortunate. Perhaps there would always be another person stabbed by the arrow that would have it out for him and the others. Perhaps he was always destined to have a target on his back. Jotaro turned around to see you there, your form shaken from his sudden outburst. You’d never seen him that angry before. He met your gaze, unaware that you were sensing a vague presence of a being just above the man’s shoulder.

He sighed, walking over to you. “I’m sorry to scare you (y/n). I’m just getting frustrated by all this.”

You hesitated to speak for a moment, flinching when Jotaro placed his hand on your shoulder. You look up at him with a glare. “Tell what you haven’t been telling me.”

“You’ve been with me in Morioh this whole time (y/n). We both know the same things about this case I-”

You shoved Jotaro back, the surprised scientist bumping into his desk. “Don’t play dumb with me Jotaro! There’s something you’re not telling me! Do you think I’m an idiot?! Do you think I can’t handle it?! Tell me why you and a bunch of fucking kids have to be the ones taking down a killer?! Why can’t you just leave it to the police like a normal person?! Just say it! I… I can help you!”

But Jotaro couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand his world and the horrifying stands contained within it. He had to keep you safe. The moment you find out anything more will be the moment you die.

“No… I can’t tell you (y/n).”

“But that’s not fair I-”

“(y/n), I’m sorry, but if you ask me again, I’ll be forced to send you back home and have you fired from my lab. Try to understand me, I’m doing this for your own safety, but I can’t have you be near me if you don’t cooperate.”

You stood there in shock. Would he really do that? Didn’t he know how much working for him at the Foundation meant to you? How much care that you put in for him and his work? And he’d throw all that away just to protect some stupid secret!? Who did he think he was?!

Your whole body began to quiver in rage at the other’s behavior. Just when you thought there was something between the two of you, something more than just a young professor and his assistant, he makes it clear that you mean nothing to him, and you never have. You watched the man before you, turn away from your gaze to focus back to his work. With a huff, you reach for the door to leave, your hand touching the handle.

Then, it all went white.

Your hand touched the handle, feeling the metal scalding to the touch. Before you could flinch back and yelp at the pain, a hand circled around your neck and another crept around your waist, the grip keeping you flush against another body. You look around the room, watching the color and furniture dissolve from your view until all you could see for miles was a white void. The only thing you could feel was the man with a locked grip on your neck, blocking your airway. You kicked to set yourself free, until you felt a ghostly presence cling onto your legs to hold them together. That same feeling washed over your wrists to bind them as well. The man holding onto you within the void leaned down to bring his mouth to your ear.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

Your whole body shuddered at the deep growl in his throat. “W-who are you?! What do you wan-”

“I’m the one talking (y/n)!”

With that, his hold on your neck tightened ever more. How could he have known your name? You all had made a point to only use names in private in case the murderer was lurking around. So that means… A pang of realization hit you. He’d been hiding in this hotel room, listening to you and Jotaro was however long. Black spots appeared before you in your line of sight, your head was feeling lighter and lighter. You were becoming weightless.

“In the split second that a human being first feels pain, that is when they are at their most isolated. At the first sign of pain, it’s every man for himself. When a man is shot, in the first moment he feels pain, he isn’t thinking of the man next to him that got shot in the brain. He’s thinking only of himself. The fight or flight response is activated, all other surroundings become useless. That selfishness, that hunger to be healed, that desire for self preservation, is what fuels Foreigner’s God, my stand!”

Your eyes shot open at the last word. “A...stand?” You choked out.

“My stand, Foreigner's God, extends that initial moment of selfishness that comes with pain. No longer are there distractions that can bring someone back to care for others. No longer are there healers that can take that pain away. Your hand is still burnt from the handle that I heated up, so…”

He turned you both around and you saw through your hazy view, a body appear in the white void. It was Jotaro, the man frantically calling out your name and rushing between his room and yours in a search for you. At one moment, the two of you even seemingly made eye contact, and you saw the absolute fear in his eyes at the realization that he might have just lost you. Your mouth quirked up in a smile, and tears began to form in your eyes.

Jotaro took a step closer, maintaining your gaze, and you felt relief in your heart that he could really see you. Until suddenly, he rushed to the night stand, fazing right through you and your assailant, not even noticing your presence in the room. You struggled to shout under the choking pressure as you saw him panic, reaching to the phone to call Josuke.

“Wait! Jotaro! I’m right here ah-”

“Didn’t I tell you (y/n)! At that critical moment of pain, it’s every man for himself! It’s just you and me in here! You’re in my world now, sweetheart. I allowed you to see Jotaro’s image, but he cannot see or hear you!”

The killer turned your head to the side, ready to snap. But he had to wait, for his stand would deactivate the moment you were killed, and then he’d be left vulnerable to a furious Jotaro in that hotel room. He needed information about his opponents’ abilities, and Jotaro was playing right into his hands by calling his friend.

“That’s it… That’s it Kujo! Call Josuke Higashikata! Call him! CALL HIM!”

You trembled under the rough grip, struggling to call out for Jotaro, hoping he wouldn’t call anyone and reveal any secrets.

And then amidst the silence, the click of Jotaro hanging up the phone filled your ears. You watched the look of reflection on his face. Somehow, maybe it was because of years of battle with monsters just like this man, but Jotaro Kujo realized that you hadn’t run away. Someone was keeping you from him. And he was now more alert than ever.

“Shit! He’s smarter than I thought! He must suspect there’s a stand attack going on.”

The murderer grumbled before dropping you to the ground. He couldn’t kill you, not without proper info on how to defeat Jotaro and the others. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you. With a sharp kick to the back, the assailant managed to knock you away, breaking bones in your spine and leaving you immobile. Recalling his stand ability, the murderer managed to escape out a window without a trace, figuring you would lose consciousness. With a gentle thud, you toppled to the ground, right next to the open window.

“(y/n)!”

Jotaro rushed to the sound, seeing you lay there, gasping for breath. He turned to the open window seeing no one around. He had disappeared. And right under his nose too. How long had the man been in the room with them?! How dumb could he have been?! Reaching up to Jotaro, you muttered that the man had broken a few bones in your back and that you couldn’t move.

“I’m sorry Jotaro. I didn’t get a good look at his face…”

“Don’t worry about that! I’ll get help right away!”

You looked up with hazy eyes as Jotaro rushed to the phone to call Josuke. After everything between the two of you, after everything he’s said to you, it was surprising to see just how much he truly cared about you. Holding the phone to his ear, Jotaro frantically told Josuke your condition and for him to get over here as soon as possible. Glancing down at your arm, Jotaro’s eyes shot open at the black ink that painted your skin just a few centimeters beneath your wrist. In all caps, as if the murderer was playing with you all, the ink wrote,

“Foreigner’s God - AS.”

- - - - -

“Honestly Mr. Joestar, where does that grandson of yours get off running me and the others ragged like this? He sees one person with the initials A.S. in a phonebook and he sends me out across down to read them with Heaven’s Door.”

Rohan Kishibe sat drinking his tea, absently working on Pink Dark Boy, waiting for Jotaro’s next move. His companion, Joseph Joestar, took a sip of his drink at Rohan’s rude accusation.

“Hush now Rohan. We all put Jotaro in charge of his operation, given his connection to our main victim. All he’s doing is using your stand to its full capabilities.”

The old man raised an eyebrow and Rohan got the hint. Mr. Joestar was the only one of the group that the snarky artist fully respected, so he would follow the seasoned stand user’s lead.

A heavy set of footsteps entered the room, followed by a more uneven pair lingering behind. The two stand users looked up to see you and Jotaro enter. You were looking better since the attack. Josuke had healed your back of the broken bones, but the bruises and intense pain of walking remained. Moving with crutches, you slowly stepped out from behind Jotaro as the two of you entered the room. Jotaro, his face darkened in a mixture of unhealthy fatigue and intense bloodlust, approached Rohan’s table and slammed down a stack of papers.

“Names, addresses, ages, and criminal histories. All here. I want you done with it within the next two days.”

Rohan grumbled, standing up. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that Jotaro. Not even a hello, not even an acknowledgment of your grandfather. He’s the only reason I’m letting you push me around like this you-”

Jotaro took one step closer to Rohan, staring the smaller man down in silence. A chill went down the artist’s spine. Shown plainly in the scientist’s eyes was a haze of dark intent, of evil desires. He wanted this person dead, and for them to suffer. Joseph flicked his gaze up at his grandson, recognizing the expression from the other’s climactic fight with DIO. A tinge of worry filled the old soul.

They needed to catch him, and catch him soon.

“Jotaro, come on. We told Josuke and the others we would give them an update soon.”

At the sound of your voice, raspy still from the attack, Jotaro’s face softened into its usual composure. He turned around to face you, and you gave him a tired smile.

“Right, let’s go. Rohan. Two days, please. I’m counting on you.”

Tipping his hat over his eyes, Jotaro held out an arm for you as you both walked to the rendez-vous point to meet with Josuke.

Rohan still felt lost in the other’s murderous expression. It had been three days since your run in with Foreigner’s God, and Heaven’s Door’s user was one of the first to arrive at the scene in order to search for clues. He remembered reading a page drawn from your unconscious body; you had blacked out soon after Jotaro made the call for help. Josuke was working on your spine, and there was a tense silence about the room. A silence soon interrupted by the crash of wood hitting the floor. Everyone looked up, seeing Jotaro standing deathly still in his spot, meanwhile Star Platinum had escaped and had thrown the table over and smashed it into the floor. The rampaging stand turned to the board and knocked it over with a fierce punch, wood scraps and documents flying everywhere.

“Hey Jotaro stop it! We need those!”

Josuke yelled, drawing out Crazy diamond to hold Star back. In his blinded rage, the stand took a mindless swing, punching Crazy Diamond in the jaw and sending both him and Josuke flying into the opposite wall.

“Josuke!”

Koichi and Okuyasu rushed to their friend. He wasn’t injured too badly, surprisingly no bones broken; nothing a bandage or two couldn’t fix. The four of them, the three teenagers and the artist all turned to Jotaro in shock, who by this point had absorbed Star Platinum into his being. Turning back to face them all, they all got a look at it.

The truly furious face of Jotaro Kujo.

The calm and collected scientist now wore the face of violence, a face he hadn’t worn since Egypt. His eyes shone bright with a horrifying lust for vengeance. Those eyes looked away from the frightened stand users, towards your unconscious body. Without a word, Jotaro left the room, and the others let out a shaky breath in the tense air. Those eyes. It had been three days and those eyes were still ever present. Rohan shook away his discomfort and waved goodbye to Mr. Joestar, understanding now.

Jotaro was not in this for justice. If Kira had hurt only you those months ago, Jotaro would have worn the same face. You were the key to Jotaro’s psyche and wellbeing. That was a fundamental truth about Jotaro Kujo. It was that day that Rohan Kishibe learned another fundamental truth.

Sometimes, the universe places an answer in your hands when you need an answer the most.

Half an hour later, it happened. It was in the middle of a secluded street, inhabited by only three people at that moment. A man. A woman. And the young artist, who had been so enraptured by his goal of locating the first name of his list that he barely had the time to react when it happened. And when it did, it only took an instant.

The man in front of him quickly drew out a pocket knife from his jacket, driving its blade into the woman’s shoulder, unaware Rohan was behind him seeing the act in its entirety. Before the woman had any time to scream in pain, the pair vanished into thin air before the artist’s very eyes, and into the man’s stand realm. Rohan held his breath, frightened at the pair’s sudden disappearance. A stand user. It must have been. Was this him? Reaching quickly into his bag, Rohan Kishibe phoned his first line of defense.

You had been sitting with Jotaro and all of the Morioh teenagers when Jotaro received his call from Rohan.

“What is it?”

“I found someone. It’s either him or another one Jotaro.”

Jotaro shot up from his chair, eyes blown out in stress. “Are you sure?! How do you know?!”

Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi all grew the same expression of fighting spirit on their faces and you were sure danger was ahead for you all.

Rohan tried to remain calm. “I’m not sure… Come over here with the others. We have a better chance of taking down whoever this is together. I’m by Owsen, two streets over…”

Inside Foreigner’s God’s realm, the man grabbed on tighter to the struggling woman’s neck as she gasped for air.

“Please, please don’t kill me! Please don’t k-kill me!”

But the man was hardly paying attention to her cries. He had brought a vision of Rohan into the void and was watching the artist’s movement’s while still strangling the woman as she writhed in pain.

He didn’t like what he was hearing. With a grunt, the man turned the woman around to face Rohan’s vision, his hand still tight around her neck.

She whimpered at the sudden motion, tears streaming down her face, meanwhile he stared boredly at Rohan talking on the phone with Jotaro and the others.

“Hey bitch, who is that?”

The woman just kept crying. “Please don’t kill me!”

Gritting his teeth, the man smacked her upside the head and tightened his grip around her neck. “Tell me who that is!”

Her vision hazy, the woman took a good look at the eccentrically dressed man. “I-I think th-that’s Rohan Kishibe. A famous manga artist…” She sputtered out.

The man’s eyes widened. Rohan Kishibe. He was at the scene of Kira’s death. Could he be another of them?

A fit of laughter took over him and he cackled, his jubilation mixing uncomfortably with the woman’s struggle for her life. Continuing to holler, the man dropped the woman to the ground and she remained there, coughing to catch her breath.

“Oh that’s great! I’ve heard he’s good too! You ever read any of his stuff?!”

She looked up at him confused, watching his face twist in excitement as he realized that he, a lowly stand user, was about to kill a man that helped take down the mighty Yoshikage Kira. Staring down at the ground, she shuddered at the sound of the maniac’s voice.

“Hey.”

A chill went down the woman’s spine. Suddenly, the man wasn’t laughing anymore. She turned her head to find a way to escape, seeing nothing but white everywhere. Why couldn’t anyone see what he was doing to her?! The man on the street with them, Rohan, why wasn’t he stepping in? It’s like they weren’t the real world at that moment.

“...I asked you a question.”

Tears filled her eyes again as she met his bored gaze. “W-what?”

Drawing closer to her weak form, and kneeling down on the ground, the man before her grabbed a fistful of her hair and she screamed at the sudden jerking pain.

“I’m asking if you’ve ever read any of his stuff!”

The woman felt a crushing pain in her chest, as if a mysterious force was stepping on her.

“N-no! I haven’t! But please don’t k-”

“Hmph.”

In a split second, the stand’s hands came around the woman’s neck and snapped it, and Foreigner’s God’s ability ceased. The man quickly his himself out of sight, seeing Rohan standing alone in the street.

Rohan turned around at the thud of a body hitting the ground behind him. He looked over to see the dead woman, her eyes blown out and a thick ring of bruises around her neck. Just like what you had gone through. And there it was, the same tag that had been on your body after your attack.

“Foreigner’s God. - AS. ”

Bringing his phone shakily to his ear, Rohan muttered, “It’s him Jotaro. He’s just killed someone else. Get over here now!”

Jotaro felt the same dark intent sweep over him as he heard Rohan speak those words. “Do you see him?”

“No. He hid himself somehow. He’s nearby I bet. Waiting to get me… Come soon. I’m hanging up.” With that, the artist turned his phone off, staying on guard for any attackers.

Jotaro hung up the phone call with Rohan and turned to the others to come with him. You stood up as well to head to the scene when you felt Jotaro’s hand roughly shove you down into your seat.

“No.” He ordered plainly.

“No?! You expect me to be useless again?! I’m the one he attacked first! I wanna see him go down and I wanna help do it!”

“I’m not having you go over there! You can’t get hurt again!”

You stared up at him, shocked at the concern plastered all over his face. But still, you were stubborn. That’s one of the things he loved about you.

“What about you?! What makes you sure you won’t get hurt?! Or even die Jotaro?!”

“I’d rather that than you die (y/n)! The world needs you more than it will ever need me! And I can’t watch someone I love get hurt right in front of me again!”

You stood there frozen, your legs feeling like they were about to give out at those word.

“...What?”

Jotaro felt a hand grip his shoulder, turning to see Josuke motion for him to get going. They needed to catch this guy. And fast. Giving a quick glance to your shaken form, he knew you understood why you needed to stay behind.

You did, of course, know him and his words better than anyone else on Earth.

Jotaro began running with the others towards the scene and when he was a few feet away, you heard Koichi ask your beloved lab partner if he had any idea what kind of stand they were dealing with.

Your mind flooded back to the words that man had spoken to you. A stand. That was the word he kept using. A stand. AS. Those were the initials of the man that nearly strangled you to death. Foreigner’s God. He said that was the name of his stand. A stand. Stand.

Your mind kept repeating that same word over and over again in your head as you stood there in the crowded Morioh street. All of these people. The people you had come to love. Josuke and the others. The strange lives they lived. Jotaro. The strange life he had drawn you into. They were all working to save the thousands of people that lived in this small Japanese town.

You thought back on all they had said, all that you had overheard over the course of the investigation. Things you didn’t understand now flooded your mind. They spoke about the first trip, the killer. Killer. A man named Kira. Killer Queen. Killer Queen must have been his stand. A stand. Is that why you think you’ve been going crazy? Are those third arms stands? ...Did Jotaro have one?

“Gimme… gimme… gimme… GIMME!”

Your whole form awoke from your deep train of thought at the sound of someone calling out to you. You turned around, looking at all the people that were walking nearby. No one was even looking at you. You sighed. You supposed this town really was driving you crazy. You reached for your crutches and took one step forward-

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!”

The loud voice rang violently in your head and you fell to your knees from the shock. Covering your ears, you foolishly tried to block out the sound. Your whole body began to feel weak, your whole being heating up. It felt like your blood was boiling, your muscles were tensing, an unwanted rage consuming every cell in your form.

“What’s going on?! What’s happening to m-”

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Who are you?! What’s going on?!” You thought to yourself, panicking. What was this voice?!

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” You muttered under your breath as you knelt on the pavement.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” Your voice subconsciously raised, drawing others’ attention.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“GO AWAY!” You let a shrill yell, grabbing violently at your hair in terror, causing a crowd of people to form around you.

And then the voice stopped, a quiet renewing in your head. You sat there, gasping for air, your throat still burning from the attack days before, and your screaming had not helped it. You looked up at everyone staring up at you in shocked worry. In a calm daze, you stood up, grabbing your crutches and began to walk away from the others.

Jotaro. Jotaro would know what it means. What that voice was.

- - - - -

Arata Sone had been Yoshikage Kira’s only friend as long as the killer had been alive. He was the only person in the world that Kira confided in. He remembered the night he met the blond murderer. One evening, the normal man came home from a very late night at work to a silent home, his wife sleeping upstairs. With a heavy sigh, Sone was about to enter his bedroom when he heard his wife let out a sudden shriek, before the sound immediately ceased into a renewed silence. Panicked, the man swung the door open to find another man about his age, standing in the middle of the room, a dismembered hand in his grasp. The hand was dripping blood onto the carpet, and Sone’s wife was nowhere to be found. Putting two and two together, the man felt a chill slither up his whole body. He remained stuck in his spot as he watched the blond man draw closer to him. Then something strange happened. Arata Sone knew that he should be afraid, knew that he should be begging for his life, knew that the proper thing to do was flee. But what he did shocked both himself and the murderer before him.

Arata Sone laughed harder than he ever had before.

Cackling loudly to an unsettling degree, he even managed to throw the calm and collected Yoshikage Kira off guard. After several minutes, the laughter died down and the man looked at the other before him with a wide smile on his face.

“Thank you.”

For the first time in a long time, Kira felt a shudder rush through his body.

“Thank you?”

“I was waiting for a good moment to kill her myself.”

In that moment, both men felt one of the great pleasures of life, a pleasure that can only come from being shunned for one’s desires for so long, and then to finally have that desire recognized by another being. The two men called out their stands and both fell into fits of laughter and joy at their shared murderous trait. A new friendship had been born.

A few years later, Arata Sone saw on the news the gruesome image of his beloved friend’s face crushed beneath an ambulance. Seeing what he could only guess were other stand users at the scene, his ever present lust for murder grew within him to a boiling point. Foreigner’s God’s user made a promise to himself. To kill those who had killed his friend.

And today was the day to make that happen. The killer watched from his hiding spot as Jotaro and the others ran to the scene to see a very shaken Rohan Kishibe, who was wondering why the killer had yet to show himself. What none of them knew, was that their attacker had grown as a stand user. He was about to apply what his dear friend Kira had once taught him, and was merely hiding to get them all in one place.

Sone waited for the group to get within his stand’s range.

You slowly made your way on your crutches towards the scene. You needed to know these answers.

“Just a little farther…” He thought as he waited for Jotaro and the others to be within his grasp.

“Just a little farther…” You muttered to yourself as you turned the corner, two streets away from Owsen. An ominous feeling crept over you, making you feel sick to your stomach.

Finally, they were all together within his stand’s range. Arata Sone waited for the right moment, a sick smile on his face.

Jotaro went to speak. “Any sign of h-”

And then the attack was sent into motion. In that split second, each of Morioh’s fighters looked down to see a small mass of white matter form around their ankle. With the snap of his fingers, the matter exploded, taking a chunk off each person’s leg with it. Jotaro, Josuke, Koichi, Okuyasu and Rohan all collapsed to the ground as the street became consumed in a white void the moment they all felt that same sting of pain.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

They all looked up from writhing in pain as the man they had been hunting down showed himself, the twisted smile on his face more present than before.

“When a man feels he is at his most cornered, that is often when the most opportunities arise for him. My st-”

In a flash, Jotaro lunged forward, landing a punch to Sone’s face. The smile went away.

“I suppose I’ll take your hand next.” He grunted, grabbing Jotaro’s arm and slamming his whole body to the ground. The moment his hand made contact with the ground, another white mass formed around Jotaro’s finger and exploded, and Star Platinum’s user once again hollered in pain.

“Jotaro!”

The other Morioh fighters called out to their injured friend and all of them got up to attack their enemy together. The moment they took another step, white matter formed once more around their feet and exploded again. The five of them were squirming on the ground in pain once again.

“As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Jotaro Kujo. My stand feeds on that first moment of selfish pain and extends it, trapping others in a blank void without distraction from their pain. It’s a terrifying ability when used properly, though I will admit, back when I attacked your little friend, I wouldn’t have been able to take you all on at once, and that’s the only reason I spared her life…”

He looked down to see Jotaro’s face overcome with rage at your mention. It was a fruitless effort, but Jotaro lunged at his enemy again, only to be knocked on his back. The moment his body touched the ground, several bubbles of the same white substance engulfed the scientist’s back and exploded, leaving bleeding indents all over the tall man’s frame and causing him to gasp at the pain.

“But you see. I have grown as a stand user. You may remember from the tag on your beloved friend’s arm the words Foreigner’s God. Well that my friends, is the name of my stand. Or no… this is something different. A new ability that I’ve learned. A swan song to my dear friend, Yoshikage Kira!”

Their eyes shot open at the mention of that hardly forgotten name. “Kira?” Josuke muttered.

“Oh right… an old friend of mine. I figured when I would be taking revenge for his death, I would use some of that explosive power of his that I loved so much. You see everyone, normally I would only be able to keep one person at a time in my realm. You can only hurt some many in one instance after all!”

It was in that moment, Foreigner’s God revealed itself in its humanoid form right beside its user. Lunging forward, the stand attacked the stationary fighters, knocking them all to the ground. At the very second their bodies touched the ground, the same miniature explosions went off, extending their pain and keeping them in the dangerous realm.

“Gimme gimme gimme…”

You placed a hand against your ear trying to block out that annoying voice that was seemingly coming out of nowhere. You weren’t far from the scene, your mind still running wild, asking a thousand questions as to what a stand even was, what that voice just then was, who were the others really dealing with, what was this man capable of. You weren’t sure of what you would be able to do, but something within you drew your body closer and closer to the street where your friends were currently writhing in agony. You didn’t care about what Jotaro wasn’t telling you. You didn’t care that there were still questions that needed answered. You just wanted to help, anyway you could figure out how.

Staring down at their battered and bleeding bodies, Arata Sone let out another burst of jubilation amidst the void.

“I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this before! If you haven’t already noticed, my once empty void has now been combined with its own type of landmines. You cannot move without a new one setting off, and extending that pain further. You’re going to be stuck in here until you bleed out, with no one to hear you or see you! That is it the secret to my new ability, Arsonist’s Lullaby!”

With that cry, the stand stormed through the five of them once more, knocking them to the ground once more, causing new land mines to set off, all to the tune of its user’s laugh-filled joy. It was then that white walls of the void were beginning to fade, and the scenery of that Morioh street was starting to fade back into view.

“Hmm… it appears this ability takes up more of my energy than I thought. I suppose I can’t kill all five of you at once and remain invisible at the same time. No matter, I can’t sense any other stand users around, just the six of us. I don’t care who sees this! I’ll just kill the witnesses after I kill you!”

It was then that Arata Sone made a fatal mistake, and just like his friend Yoshikage Kira, let his hubris take over. Removing the hiding nature of his stand, but doubling the landmines, the man watched as the five powerful stand users struggled to even get close enough to him to land in a hit. New landmines keep going off, new injuries created.

They were dangerously close to bleeding out, all in plain sight of another stand user. You.

You turned the corner to see the carnage ahead of you, finding your whole group in the enemy’s grasp. You couldn’t even tell what you were seeing. The moment one of your friends moved, they would immediately flinch back in agony. Drawing your attention to the man standing over them, a familiar chill went through you. That was the same man that had attacked you days before. And seeing what he was capable of doing to the people you had grown so close to, you were now more scared than ever of him.

But you noticed something. Amidst the pleasure that this monster was reveling in, there was a distinct look of concentration plastered all over his face. You watched his expression twitch with each time an attack went off on one of your friends. He must be doing something with his mind to attack them. He was focusing. His focus. You needed to capture his focus.

Steeling yourself for what was to come, you dropped your crutches and took a deep breath in, something in you knowing the dangers you were about to face, and the rest of you stupidly seeming not to care.

With a small ounce of bravery, you shouted at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! I won’t let you hurt them!”

Sone turned around at the sudden distraction, surprised that someone was taking notice. His eyebrow raised in intrigue. That could only mean one thing. You were another one.

Jotaro recognized that voice. No… no no no. Looking up, he saw your frightened body shaking and staring straight into the enemy’s eyes without a way to defend yourself.

“No! (y/n) get out of here! You can’t be here! He’ll kill-”

The killer turned back around and punched Jotaro straight in the gut with his stand, sending him flying back into a tree.

“Jotaro!”

You shrieked. All five of them were dying right in front of you, so close to bleeding out. And now his focus was on you, and it had taken all your courage to simply call out and distract him from the others. You watched as the man drew closer, ready to kill another. The same giant smile came over his face again.

“(y/n) huh? And here I thought you were a smart person. Smart enough not to beg for me to hurt you again. But sorry, there’s no escape this time!”

“(y/n) no! Run away! Get out of here!”

You didn’t have time to register whose voice had called out to you before you saw the attacker lunge right at you. You put your arms up over your face as your body collapsed to its knees, your eyes shut in fear, and a horrified scream uncontrollably left your lungs.

“Now die!”

And then, you felt weightless.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME”

As you felt a massive weight being lifted from your body, your eyes shot open to find someone new standing over you. Actually, you weren’t sure if it was someone new, or something new. This new thing, it didn’t seem real.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME”

Your face lit up in shock. Attached to this new thing was the same voice that you had been hearing in your head before. You watched as its fists fired off in a flurry of punches, all hitting their marks on the man’s body. You were mesmerized by its appearance. Its body, about the same size as yours, looked as if it were made of glass. Swirling around within that glass was a pool of different colors. Different blues, purples, oranges and pinks flowed together seamlessly, all encased within the glass structure as it pummeled the enemy before you.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME… A MAN!”

With one last, hard punch to the enemy’s chest, the glass figure stopped its attack and turned around to face you. You shuffled back on the ground, your chest heaving in fear from what had just happened. The figure before you, without speaking a word, drew its arm forward to point at Sone, who was now frozen in his spot before you. Then, everyone watched as small ripples began to form over the man’s whole body. All over his arms, legs, and chest, it looks as if the flesh was moving, as if someone had dropped a pebble into a lake. Then the ripples began to glow brightly, the full spectrum of colors radiating out, and tearing their way from the inside of his body outward. The enemy let out a painful shriek as the searing pain overtook him, more and more light spilling out of his body as the flesh around it became torn and melted. Finally, less than a second later, an explosion of white light burst out of the man’s body. And once that flash was gone, so was he. Foreigner’s God had been defeated. And this thing that you could tell was a part of you, it had been the thing to kill him.

Shakily, you stood up, holding on tightly to your crutches, keeping your gaze on this figure that had erupted out of you.

“...ABBA?”

Still confused, all you knew was that something in your body told you to say that name. The figure turned around to face you and gave you a shy smile before coming closer and embracing your shaking form in a hug. Surprised you could even touch it, you wrapped your arms around ABBA as well, finding to your disbelief that the glass like material felt soft and warm to the touch. You looked down its back, eyeing the pattern of jagged lines all over its body, as well as the swirling colors within. You felt your eyes well up with tears. Something about holding onto this being, one not entirely separate from you, felt so right. It felt like it had been welling up inside you for so long, and you couldn’t help but love it now that it was out.

“A stand…” You muttered. It was all so clear now. Your stand.

After a few moments, ABBA stood up and nodded towards the group of your injured friends. Holding you up, both you and your stand rushed over to Josuke. The teenager’s eyes opened with a pained groan, looking up at you and seeing ABBA at your side. His face lit up in surprise and he tried to sit up before the crushing pain forced him back down onto the ground. He muttered weakly for you to see if Rohan was alright, and you did.

Suddenly, a small white figure burst out of the artist’s body and punched Josuke in the arm. You watched, intrigued as a section of the teen’s arm unfolded like a book. The white figure leaned in, writing in Josuke’s arm the words, “I currently do not have any injuries.”

You watched in awe as the bleeding wounds all over Josuke’s body slowly began to close. Within a few minutes, Josuke was up and mobile as ever. He had several questions to ask you, but first, he had some healing to do. You watched as a pink and blue being, you assumed Josuke’s stand, flew out of his body and hovered over all of the other injured, healing them nearly immediately. They all stood up, groaning from the shadows of pain still left behind from the attacks. One by one, each of them looked up at you, each of their faces growing an expression of surprise and adoration. You felt small under their gazes, looking up at your stand standing next to you. As small as you felt, there was something about ABBA that made you feel powerful. Especially considering what it had just done to defeat the enemy.

“(y/n)... is that your stand…?”

You looked over at Koichi before quickly nodding. “Yeah… I guess it must be right?”

You tried to shrug it off with a nervous laugh, but even you were still in awe of this new ability. Finally, you turned to Jotaro, watching his face for a reaction. The gentle giant stood frozen at a loss of words, unsure of what to say. His gaze turned to ABBA, a melancholy look of admiration and love spread over his features.

“Come on Jotaro… say something. Don’t worry. I’ll understand-”

You muttered softly before Jotaro rushed forward and cut you off with a tight hug. You rested your smaller body against him, tears of relief streaming down your face, grateful that everyone was still alive. You looked up to gaze into Jotaro’s blue eyes, seeing that he had begun to tear up as well. Then something caught your eye. Looking over the tall man’s shoulder, you saw a purple skinned spirit faze out of your partner’s body and float over to ABBA, starting deeply into your stand’s face. ABBA, who had before been so calm and collected, now shrunk back a little bit with a childish giggle at the sight of the handsome stand before her. As ABBA held her face in her hands, you felt your cheeks flush bright red. Your eyes widened and you pushed Jotaro away from you, turning to your stand.

“H-hey wait a minute! ABBA, it’s not like that!”

“Gimme?”

ABBA asked innocently as she grabbed Star Platinum’s hand tightly in her own. Jotaro now felt his face heat up and turn bright red. With a heavy sigh, he watched as his stand wrapped yours in its arms, chuckling a bit at your embarrassment.

“Sorry about all this. His name’s Star Platinum, and he’s definitely more… emotional than I am.”

Your eyes widened at what that could possibly mean. Wait… did they think that you and Jotaro were…

“W-wait it’s not like that! He and I are just… “

“Gimme?”

“No! W-well I mean I care about him but I-”

“(y/n).”

You turned around to face Jotaro as he calmly took his hat off, revealing the jet black hair that you loved seeing.

“I’m so glad you’re okay (y/n).”

Your heart swelled at his words and you slowly turned around to see ABBA and Star Platinum holding each other lovingly, a warmth erupting throughout your whole body at the sight. The feeling of Jotaro grabbing your hand caught your attention and met his gaze once more.

“He’s the personification of my thoughts and well… it seems like your stand, ABBA right? It seems like she’s the personification of yours.”

The two of you watched as your stands talk to one another in their own little language, each enamored by the other’s presence. You turned back to Jotaro, seeing that his face had drawn closer.

“Yeah… I guess... you’re… right.”

As you breathed out that last word, Jotaro closed the gap between the two of you, your lips connecting in a sweet, long awaited kiss. You wrapped your arms around the fellow scientist’s, and now fellow stand user’s, neck, giggling slightly as he lifted your body off the ground to hold you tightly in his arms. When you two broke for air, Jotaro quickly kissed you again, holding you up like his life depended on it.

When he finally set you down, Jotaro Kujo placed a hand to the side of your face and wiped away your tears. With a small laugh, he turned over to your stand.

“Hey ABBA, what took you so long huh?”

“...Gimme.” ABBA shrugged a little bit and pointed at you.

You smiled, wiping your tears away. “She said she wouldn’t appear until I was either ready for it, or I really needed her.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes at your stand. “Well you really waited for the exact moment that she needed you huh-Ow!”

Jotaro grumbled a bit as Star punched him in the arm, annoyed that his user was making fun of this new pretty stand. ABBA grinned mischievously before looking around at the rest of the group, and seeing all of the other stands.

A feeling of happiness swelled within the stand’s heart. Ever since you had pricked your finger on the arrow, for so long she had been growing, becoming more and more trapped within you. It had been lonely seeing you struggle without her help. It had been upsetting to see you not yet be ready for her to show herself. But now, eyeing all the others, Heaven’s Door, Echoes, the Hand, Crazy Diamond, and especially Star Platinum, ABBA really didn’t feel alone anymore. And seeing now how the other stand users of Morioh rushed over to hug you and vocalize their shock at you having a stand, ABBA could tell that you didn’t really feel alone anymore either. With a sigh of content, your stand fazed back into your body as you followed the rest of the group away from the scene and back to the hotel to get some much needed rest.

You leaned against Jotaro’s frame as he wrapped as a strong arm around you. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat everyone! Tonio’s, my treat!” He said with a bright smile.

Josuke and Okuyasu cheered, “and (y/n) can meet Tonio’s stand!”

You turned back to the teens in shock as you all walked ahead. “Tonio has a stand?!”

Koichi gave a firm nod. “Yeah. So does Hazamada.”

“That weird kid?!”

“My girlfriend Yukako too.”

“Damn… I had no idea…”

You all shared a laugh as you left to enjoy a well deserved victory, the sun setting over the beautiful town of Morioh, another dark force defeated by the town's newest savior.

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