How Dare You [ReidxReader]

(1) What the fuck is your problem?

Hello, welcome to the story.

This story is written from your perspective, however, I do not like to use Y/N. I either try to avoid it or will use the name Emily Byrne. It's a character from another show I like. The name will actually make sense for the story.

Please note that this story will include explicit description of drug-use and withdrawal. There will be TW at the beginning of chapters that mention it.

Warning: demeaning or degrading comments about addicts or addiction of any kind will be deleted.
It is okay if you do not like the topics that are being discussed in this story, or how they are being discussed; should you decide to leave any inappropriate comments, you will be blocked without further warning.

Thank you & Enjoy.

PS. I love this story very much and revised it. There is now a 2nd edition. See last chapter for more info. This version is lovely nonetheless.

⚠️NSFW WARNING⚠️
General warning for canon-typical violence.

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TW: explicit description of drug use

Your desk is cleared. You are really doing this. A box filled with your personal belongings – three plants and a white hourglass, filled with black sand – you step into the elevator.
A colleague gives you a last wave: "Bye, Byrne."
You wave back: "See you around."
Pressing the button to the lobby, you take a deep breath. You already handed in your gun and badge. You are no longer an Agent of the DEA.

The call came three weeks ago. SSA Rossi of the BAU was on the other end of the line. He said he followed your career. He said he would like you to come in for an interview. Of course, you know who he is. You also know the BAU. The job of a profiler always has always been appealing to you. Somehow, you never pursued it. Now it had pursued you.

The death of a team member let to your hiring. You only met your future boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner. And, well, Rossi on the phone. Hotchner was a tall guy with dark hair and only one facial expression: stern. You were nervous about how the team will react.

Early the next morning, you enter the bullpen of the BAU. You walk up to Hotchner's office, he is the only one already here. "Good morning, Sir." You hold your box with one hand to shake his with the other.
"Good morning." Without further welcoming words, he hands you over your badge and gun. You smile at you badge. It has FBI written on it in bold letters. You feel like your icon, Dana Scully. "Your desk is the last one on the left." Hotchner tells you and points out of the window. Alright, this conversation seems to be over. You nod and step out.

While you are placing your plants on the table, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Before you even fully turn around, someone tells you: "That's Emily's desk." You close your eyes for a second and wipe the frown off your face.

Standing behind you, is a good-looking dark-blonde man. Maybe early twenties. Pale, a leather bag over his shoulders, wearing chucks and mismatching socks.
"Good thing, my name is Emily then." You extend your hand: "Emily Byrne."
He stares at you, blinking a few times. When he snaps out of it, he just gives you a small wave and a tight-lipped smile: "I'm Reid."
You let your hand fall back to your side. Oh boy.

"Oh wow! Had I known you're this good lookin' I had worn something more appropriate." A fit, dark-skinned man comes over to you. You just stare at him; you don't know what to answer. He offers you his fist. "Derek Morgan."
That makes you smile, and you give him a fist bump. "You transferred from the DEA?"
"Yeah. Nice to meet you."
Reid is still standing next to you, eyeing you up and down without saying anything.
A blond woman walks in next: "Hi, I'm Jennifer Jereau. Everyone calls me JJ."
You shake her hand: "Hi, JJ."