Not So Innocent ~Spencer Reid~

Chapter 1

your pov (second person):

It all happened so quickly. Yells of federal officials and gunshots rang through your ears. You hid in the corner while all of this happens, you decided you wouldn't go down with them today.

Being the youngest member of a gang made everyone sort of protect you, even if you didn't need it. They can protect you now; you can do this on your own, carry out their plans while they get busted. No one will suspect the 22 year old female who had a way of making anyone feel bad for her.

You can still hear the yells of FBI agents and the gang you'd been a part of since you were 16. The sirens outside bleed through your eardrums like a heart beat after your adrenaline gets too high.

"I think that's everything. Pack up evidence," an authoritative voice says. Reid, Prentiss, make sure no one else is here."

You regain your composure that you lost momentarily. If they find you, you take them down. You instinctively reach for the gun in your side holster, and remember the location of every other weapon on your body. Knife in your boot, smaller knife in your bra.

8 years ago:

"Welcome to the crib, kiddos." The big man said to you and your older brother. A few weeks after your parents died in a semi truck accident, this family was chosen to take you guys in.

There were multiple people already in this family. A 20 year old hispanic girl who dressed masculinely lived on the other side of the bathroom as you and your brother. Across the hall was a young kid, he was probably about 13. They called him Runt. Runt was small, given his name, and his dark skin made him even more different than the rest of you. Downstairs was the home of our new parental guardians and their best friend, Nico.

Nico was a stereotypical hispanic with facial hair, long brown locks that he put in a braid, and talked like the ones you'd see on tv before it was considered an inappropriate stereotype. Nico was sorta chubby, but mostly just a big man with muscles.

Pops, your new "dad", was even bigger than his bud. His muscles were the size of your head and he was tall and large. He was a tan white with a clean face, and nice clothes. His wife, Mama, was a small, nice looking woman who hardly talked unless she felt it necessary. She had brown, graying hair that flowed down to her back.

You and your brother shared a similar skin tone, a nice shade of y/s/c (your skin color).

Your brother, Aiden, hardly ever spoke to anyone but you and Runt.

About two weeks into living with the Damino family, Rico took you down to the basement to show you what was going on with them. You'd asked about secrets, knowing something wasn't right about them.

"Here it is, kid, what you've been questioning." He told you everything. How they killed anyone who questioned their authority in this town. How they knew everything about everyone. "And if you decide to leave us, you'll end up like them." He pointed to a picture of a dead man on a pin board.

"Well don't scare her," Pops said, coming down the stairs. "She'll be useful, I can tell."

He told you about what your job would be in the family. You were to lure in creepy guys who hit on young girls, you'd take them where they needed to go and you'd kill them. "You up for the job?" Pops asked.

Every nerve in your body was itching to run away. But where would you go? A family needed you to help them, and at least these guys would be creeps, right? As long as you did what they asked, you and your brother would be kept safe. You nodded your head sternly, letting them both know you were all in. A family is all you wanted, and you were apart of the Daminos.

Aiden was the brains, he never had to do any dirty work. Neither did Runt, and you made sure of that. Runt was too pure, too innocent to be apart of this gory work. You, Rico, and Pops were the muscle, the ones who got down and dirty no matter how hard the job.

Now:

Footsteps hit the concrete all around you. You still sat in the corner of the garage, where you and your family relocated your gang work a few years ago.

You closed your eyes, and were actually scared for the first time in a long while. What would happen to your brother? What would happen to the Daminos? Would they be put to death or rot in prison till the time comes on it's own? Could you escape the wrath of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, or end up just like your family?

You opened your stinging eyes to see a slim silhouette standing above you, aiming a gun at your chest.

"Please help me," you say, tears streaming down your face. They found you, you might as well put your skills of pretending you've worked so hard at for 8 years to the test. "Please help me, they took me."

The figure lowers his gun to its holster, and crouches down in front of you. It's a man, probably in his late 20s or early 30s even though he looks slightly younger. His soft brown/ hazel eyes fix on yours with sympathy. "It's okay, I'm here to help." He says and lends you a hand, bring you to your feet. He's wearing an FBI bullet proof vest over a printed button up with a dark tie.

"Guys we've got a problem!" He yells to the rest of the agents before leading you to them. You lean against his arm as you walk, limping to add affect to your false situation.

"Who are you?" an attractive bald, brown skinned agent asks you.

"She says they took her," the tall guy who found you says.

"Who took you?" Another agent asks.

"Them," you said indicating to the room. "Last night, they took me. They hurt me, and wouldn't let me go." Tears fall down your cheeks, once again an affect you'd learn to add, aiding your helpless demeanor.

1062 words. ahh hope you enjoy my new story! If you didn't know, I'm writing "BAU- Spencer Reid x Reader" as well, which you should check out if you haven't. Idk much about gangs or anything like that, so I'm trying my best! I apologize for any mistakes in grammar, tense, pov, or any mistakes of that matter.