#carefreereader

You expected him to cave after a punch, but he caught your arm and flipped you onto your back with intent to pin you down. That didn’t work out very well because your legs wrapped around his neck and he was now struggling to get free.

One harsh punch to the gut and he staggered back. You were on your feet in record time, the both of you huffing. If he hadn’t been so massive maybe the blow would have been more effective. 

His frame was that of a titan. 

Broad shoulders, big arms. You had every intention of running in and attacking while he was still recovering. From his bent position, he had the same idea, but the second you both got close the ringing in your head is what stops you. Your head tilts as you squint, and he lets out a similar groan of discomfort.

You finally stood upright, shock evident.

“You’re like me..” You mutter. He seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“I thought I was the only one..” His gruff tone responded.

You weren’t sure what to make of that. Now it sort of made sense. Maybe instead of trying to pummel him you should have talked it over when you saw the spider patterned suit that was somewhat similar to your own.

You weren’t sure what the next step was to take, but it’s clear he isn’t a bad guy. If that was the case your senses would be going haywire. So rather than fight, you hold out a hand.

“Do you want to team up? I think we can do more if we work together.”

“Not interested. I work solo.”

He turns and you can feel a frown rising on your face.

“Come on, you’re spiderman, I’m spiderwoman, this must be fate.”

“I don’t believe in faith. “ He held out his wrist, a stream of web hitting a nearby building.

“Stay out of my way kid.”

He jumped off the building and you were fuming.

“KID!! I’M A GROWN WOMAN YOU OLD FART!!”

He didn’t sound that much older than you, just arrogant.

“Jackass.”

The following day you walk into work a bit agitated. It’s one thing assuming you were alone, but seeing someone else out there with your abilities just made you think of how much more people were just like you waiting to be discovered.

“(Y/N)!!”

Garcia’s peppy voice rang from the hallway and you grin when she came speed walking in your direction.

“You’ll never guess what. There’s a new tech guy and he’s smoking hot! Not as hot as my chocolate thunder of course but a close second.” Her little squeal drew in Morgan JJ and Spencer.

“He looks a bit scary.” Reid commented.

“I think he’s just the tough love type, like Hotch. They sort of have the same scowl.” JJ makes a face and you smile. Hotch comes walking through the door and there’s a very tall man behind him. You have to physically stop yourself from laughing out loud because their expressions almost mirror each other.

Hotch stops when he’s in front of all of you.

“This is the team. In the event that Garcia is ever away or on leave, you’ll be covering for her. This is Miguel O’ Hara, he just joined us from the force located in New York.”

He nods, but his facial expression hasn’t changed. Garcia is the first one to shake his hands, winking suggestively. The rest of them go one by one. No doubt making their own assessments on his character. When it’s your turn, you step forward with your hand out. He means to shake it but before you make contact the ring at your temple goes off. Miguel squints. The throb at the side of his head you realize is very similar to yours. You both stare at each other in surprise.

“You..”

It’s said simultaneously.

They all exchange a look and you take a step back clearing your throat. So does he.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You both say in unison. You both go pacing off in different directions and Garcia tilts her head.

“That was really weird right, it wasn’t just my imagination.”

Morgan laughs.

“Maybe it was a one night stand.” He suggests.

“That would be terrible.” JJ adds.

Hotch breaks up the little session, ushering them all to the table as they wait for you to return to get started on the case.

You find yourself running circles in the bathroom as you try to make sense of it. Passing a hand through your hair, when you’re finally exiting, your head lifts, meeting the chocolate gaze of the man who has your brain in disarray.

“We need to talk.” Miguel speaks.

“That’s an understatement.”

You guide him to a more private area. Checking left and right of the lunch room, you turn back to him.

“Are you following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, chica.”

His little spanish drawl really shouldn’t sound so good.

“I didn’t know you work here either.”

From his tone it’s obvious he isn’t pleased. There’s nothing either of you can really do. If he were to transfer out it would definitely raise some red flags.

“Why did you leave New York?”

His jaw is set. You aren’t certain if it’s from the question or the fact that he knows your occupation, so lying to him isn’t wise.

“I was trying to get away from my night job.”

“Obviously that didn’t work.”

He still looks irritated.

“Stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” He’s about to walk away, but you grab his arm.

“Wait.”

You sigh heavily, looking down.

“Listen, I know you don’t like this. I’m sorry about last night. I should have talked to you before I attacked. I can tell that this situation isn’t ideal for you, but I really do think we can do the most good by working together.” Your eyes are somewhat pleading. His body is still set in an almost defensive position and his shoulders finally slump.

“Fine. But don’t get in my way. I’m not going to be babysitting.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

From that point on, you formed sort of a pack. He couldn’t say that he really anticipated it. His day job was pretty mellow compared to your own. On the nights that he was patrolling the streets on his own, he felt his thoughts stray.

The days that he did see you, there was a light air about you. Each patrol you both did together you just seemed so carefree, unburdened. You were lively and bright. The very opposite of him. He couldn’t truly understand how you could emit so much happiness dealing with what you saw on a daily basis.

“YEAH!!”

Your shout echoed over the building as you jumped to another. Miguel was following behind, not as energetic.

“We’re here to do a job, not play around. Stay focused.”

“Could you stop being such a drill sergeant. It’s just a patrol and crime has been pretty low lately thanks to me.”

Even under the mask he can tell that you’re wearing a childish grin. You land, feet sticking to a small statue ahead as you turn upside down.

“I told you I wasn’t going to be babysitting.”

“It feels like I'm the one babysitting. Yesterday you almost got snagged by those cops.”

“I was distracted.” He grumbles.

“Mhmm, yet you keep lecturing me. It seems you're the one who needs to be focused big guy.” He hisses at you in a cat like manner and you giggle.

“Calm down blue panther, I’m just teasing.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Spider kitten?”

“Stop it.”

“Captain Meow Meow.”

“BE QUIET!!”

Oh how you loved to push his buttons. He really emitted old man energy. His stoic demeanor didn’t help either.

“Word of advice, angry bird, you might want to start being nicer to people. If you keep glaring at everyone around they’re going to think you're some kind of serial killer. I work with profilers so the less attention you draw to yourself the better. Stop leering at everyone all the time.”

“I’m not leering, this is my face.”

Of course you think he’s pulling your leg, but his expression stays neutral. You burst in a fit of laughter and he turns in the opposite direction.

“I’m leaving.”

“N-No wait..wait..I’m sorry!”

You try to get out between your soft giggles. He jumps right off the ledge and you follow along.

Clearly it would take some time, but you have a feeling that he’ll begin to open up.

One particular night he lands on a building. It’s sort of become your designated spot to meet up. You weren’t wearing your mask, the wind just blowing through your tresses as you stared at the lights. When he took a seat at your side, you sent him a smile.

“Hey.”

Your tone was soft, and it's’ when he finally looks directly at you he sees the pain you try to cover with a smile.

“No smart quips today.” He asks.

You shake your head.

“Not today.”

That’s all you say.

He doesn’t like this. He’s the one who’s supposed to be brooding and secretive. He’s gotten used to your smile. You give your head a little shake, sliding on your mask.

“Let’s get to it.”

You move to rise to your feet, but he places a hand on your shoulder and you halt.

“Yo te cubro.”

You’re not certain what he just said, but it does offer a sense of comfort. His tone alone was an invitation to lean on him with your problem. This time when you smile, it’s genuine. Even if he can’t see it.

“You know I don’t speak Spanish right.” You tease. He just looks at you blankly for a moment, but then he pulls his hand away.

“Adios.”

“W-Wait I’m just pulling your leg, come back!!”

It’s obvious to him that your antics would never truly stop.

Despite your very different personalities, Miguel has to admit that it’s nice having someone who’s not only aware of his secret, but really understands what he deals with. He’d lectured himself to be self reliant. It was second nature. Regardless of how much he put up the lone wolf act, you were relentlessly by his side.

In the more dangerous cases, you advised him that it would be better if you both tackled it together. He knew it was reckless to go against you on this mission. But you’d been gone for the last week with the team and he felt like once you returned you would need the rest. He could deal with criminals in the time being.

Except these weren’t any old criminals. When he saw the automatic guns it should have been a dead give away. That night started with an onslaught of gunshots and ended with explosions.

“You spider freak!!”

The insult yelled at him doubled with the multiple bullets that he narrowly missed was an incentive to wrap this whole thing up. He’d taken down the two men in record time. That warning throb at the back of his head alerted him that trouble was imminent and he turned just in time to catch a glimpse of the countdown from what he could only assume was a bomb stuck to the far end of that room.

“Mierda.”

It would seem that he wasn’t the only one trying to take out this crime boss. He grabbed the two unconscious bodies, sprinting for the window just as the beeping rang in the background. The explosion sent him flying out the window, the edge of flames just barely catching the back of his suit. He grunted at the shards that rammed into his back. He’d skated down the side of the adjacent building just in time to hear the cop cars ringing in the distance. Dropping the men, he pinned them up on the wall with his webs as he took off in the sky.

The trip back home was a rough one. He was a little less ecstatic that his apartment was at the very top of the building. It felt so convenient at the time, given his abilities. He basically throws himself into his window, grunting at the burns and scratches on his body. It would heal in under a week. That didn’t mean it would hurt any less. For a moment he just sat there. He was too worn out to move, and the cuts and bruises were starting to make his body go numb. It took him a moment to realize that there was a thicker piece of glass wedged in his arm and it was bleeding more profusely than the others.

He heard shuffling on the roof, and his head turned at the sound. When he saw your upside down form, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you really sleeping? There's like a massive explosion downtown at rivers avenue. I got back in about twenty minutes ago and there were cops everywhere. I was lucky to make it here without getting jumped.”

You casually jumped through the window. When you were fully inside, it seems you finally took the state of his battered form.

“Miguel..”

He could spot the worry in your voice and you basically ripped your mask off as you dropped to his form.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” He intended to resist, but he saw your stern expression and decided against it.”

“Lower bathroom cabinet.” 

You ventured over immediately, and he finally removed his own mask, turning his body in clear discomfort. You came back with the red kit, opening it and grabbing the rubbing alcohol and pieces of gauze.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to play doctor.”

“Shut up.”

He was stunned at the reply. You looked more than pissed.

“I told you to wait for me and you still went on ahead and tried to take down an entire crime organization on your own."

You slipped on some latex gloves and cleaned your hand with the alcohol. Your eyes moved to the bigger shard and you removed it. Miguel gritted his teeth at the sting when you poured the liquid onto the wound. But he stayed as still as he could. You cleaned and dressed the wound as you moved on to the others.

For about twenty minutes, you tended to him. He was almost afraid to speak with how heatedly you were glaring at each injury you cleaned and wrapped. When it was finally over, you slipped the gloves off next to the many pieces of bloody gauze you’d discarded.

“The burns are starting to heal which is great. You should feel much better in the morning. Don’t get any of those bandages wet.”

“Gracias.”

You didn’t respond to his thanks, heading for the window. He expected you to say something, anything, but you just left and he leaned against the bed with a grumble.

The days that followed, he realized that you were giving him the silent treatment. His wounds healed in the span of two days, so he was out and about, but you never joined. Outside of work, he didn’t see you at all. Three days turned into a week. A week turned into two weeks.

It became apparent that you were avoiding him, because any chance he tried to grab at a conversation you would take off in the opposite direction. It didn’t help that your job had you gone for days at a time. Even when he’d stopped by your apartment, your windows were locked and your lights would be off.

He didn’t realize how much it pissed him off not to be close to you anymore.

When he caught another agent shamelessly flirting with you in the bullpen, that was the breaking point. His large form shadowed over the man who visibly tensed.

“I need to speak with her.”

Nothing else was said. He fled so fast you could practically see the dust. Your glare trained in Miguel’s direction. It’s clear that he wouldn’t leave until you both talked and his presence was starting to draw the attention of your team. You nudged your head and he followed you down the hall. You stepped into an empty interrogation room.

“Is there a reason you’re intimidating other agents?”

“Are you going to continue running from me?”

“I don't know what you mean. You insisted that you wanted to ride solo, so I gave you what you wanted. You obviously don’t trust me so I think it’s better this way. “

“Of course I trust you.”

“I didn’t realize you became a comedian while I was away. I don’t have time for this, I need to get back.”

You turn to leave. The second he reaches to halt you, you fire a punch, one that he catches with ease. His brows are knitted in frustration, quite similar to yours.

“Why the hell are you so angry!!”

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU!!”

It’s hard to hide his shock. You pull back your hand, heaving out another displeased groan.

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to see you there burned and bleeding out on the floor. My mind kept going to the worse case scenarios of that night. It was horrible. I begged you not to go and you promised me you wouldn’t but you still did. A part of me hates you…I hate you for making me feel that way..”

He feels like a complete idiot. He’s taken for granted that he no longer has to do it all on his own. He’s not used to people caring or worrying about him. He understands his mistake. Looking at you it’s obvious that it’s been eating you up inside.

“Lo siento cariño.”

From the flush of your cheeks, it’s clear that you understood that statement. He takes a step, a dangerous little smirk growing on his lips.

“Porque tan tímida.”

You shake your head furiously.

“N-No, that’s not going to work on me!! you think you could use your suave little tone and I’ll just forgive you! Not happening!!”

Your heated face says otherwise. He backs you up and when you catch sight of his fangs that peeks out when he licks his lips, you visibly swallow.

“M-Miguel w-we’re at work y-you can’t-”

The minute his large palm rests delicately on your cheek, you’ve forgotten what you planned to say.

“I don’t see the problem.”

Suddenly you miss brooding Miguel because this side of him is too much for your heart. His hand moves lower, and when he catches your bottom lip with his thumb, you feel as though you’ll implode on the spot.

“¿Quieres que te bese..”

His sultry tone is a sin in itself, and you find yourself nodding at his words.

“P-Please Miguel..”

You’re practically begging.

“Curse you duolingo!!”

If you hadn’t decided to brush up on your Spanish, his seductive words would not be having such a strong effect right now.

There’s a bit of a smirk on those delicious lips and he finally gives you exactly what you want. His hands secure around your waist, and he lifts you off the ground as your lips collide in an act of desperation. 

You hum at how perfect his lips feel against your own as if this is where they were always meant to be. His dark locks tickle your forehead and you find your hands sliding through the mass of brown tresses. The moment your tongue slips past his lips, they briefly brush his fangs. It’s strangely arousing. His tongue meets your own and you just hold on tighter.

“Miguel..”

He has you dazed with just a kiss. One of his hands has ventured lower. He gives you a soft squeeze and you moan.

Miguel is the one that draws back, he wants to take in your hazy expression.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Yeah, sure...”