#cmbingo 2021

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Your Casanova

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You're the team's jet pilot who always looks forward to spending time with Spencer Reid. His love for you is unconditional.

Square Filled: jet pilot (2021) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You’re in the middle of doing your checklist when Spencer walks onto the jet. He looks to the cockpit and sees you there doing your thing. A bright smile etches on his face, and he steps aside to let his coworkers past him so he can talk to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Spencer!” you grin and look at him. “I’m glad you’re here. How has your week been?”

“I finished ten more books. I would have finished more, but I was a bit busy playing chess at the park with the other kids. I also went to the local library and participated in the local science fair. The kids had good ideas but I helped them hone their craft.”

“Sounds like you had it good.”

“It would have been better with you by my side.”

That makes your cheeks heat to which your copilot smirks. You nudge her leg to get her to shut up. She knows of the little crush you have on Spencer ever since meeting him a few years ago. Hearing about his week makes your day tenfold. You’re the main pilot for the BAU for both A and B Teams. A Team is by far your favorite team because it’s the team Spencer’s on.

While you have to focus on flying, there are times when you can take a small break and let your copilot take the reigns. You and Spencer always have something to talk about no matter the subject because as much as it makes your day to hear about his, it makes his day to hear about yours.

However, it’s not always sunshine and rainbows as Penelope likes to put it. Spencer will be one way when you pick him up at the airport but be another way when you get to take him home. The stress of the case will weigh heavily on his shoulders, so you like to do the little things to help him feel better even if you don’t think they’ll help.

Spencer walks onto the plane after the grueling case you took him to, and you notice how his shoulders sag a bit.

“You got this, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll finish the checklist.”

You leave the cockpit and join Spencer’s side in the small kitchen where he’s making himself some coffee.

“Hey, sunshine,” you say to him.

“Hey,” he says and gives you a half-smile.

“I’m not gonna pretend to know what you’re going through, but I think under the circumstances, you’re doing a good job. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Derek smirks when he hears you subtly flirt with him, which Spencer doesn’t pick up on.

“Thanks,” Spencer smiles.

You get back to the cockpit to get ready for take-off. This flight isn’t as long as some of the others so sPencer decides to spend it taking a nap. When the plane lands, you allow the agents to get off first before you and your copilot do. Spencer and Derek are quietly arguing about something as you pass by them, and then you feel someone crash into your back.

“I am so sorry,” Spencer chuckles nervously.

“That’s okay. Did you need something?”

Spencer looks back at Derek who gives him an encouraging nod.

“Would you like to go out with me on Friday? I know a great Indian place.”

“I love Indian food,” you grin.

“So, is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Um, here is my number.”

He fumbles with his FBI card that has his personal number on there.

“Great. I’ll call you,” you grin and walk off.

As they say, the rest is history. You and Spencer have been in a loving and stable relationship for a year now, and you fall in love with him every single day. You’re piloting for B Team this week, so Spencer planned something special for you when you return. You told him the date and time at which you would be touching down, and he told you he’d been waiting for you at the pickup area.

When you land, you rush to get your things so you can see Spencer sooner. You step into the pickup area and frown when you don’t see your tall boyfriend. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic or trying to find parking. You wait five minutes and grow concerned. He’s never late.

The irrational part of your brain thinks he’s cheating or that he doesn’t love you anymore even though you absolutely know he’d never hurt you like that. You look at the time when you hear two security guards laughing to your right. They’re looking at someone lying on the bench next to them, and when you walk closer, you see it’s Spencer. He’s so tired that he fell asleep waiting for you on the bench with flowers in his hands.

“Man, I bet he’s whipped,” one of them chuckles as they walk past him.

You walk over to him with a smile on your face and put a hand on his cheek gently.

“Spencer, baby?”

He jumps awake at your touch and looks up at you apologetically.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.”

He hands you the flowers that are slightly squished from his body.

“They’re beautiful,” you chuckle and lean down to kiss him. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s go home and fall asleep to Disney movies.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he grins.

x

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[dontshootmespence]

Under the Boss’s Nose

Summary: Spencer is head over heels in love...with Section Chief Erin Strauss’ daughter.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 788

Warning: Little kissing and lead up to smuttiness but no smut.

A/N: This fulfills my boss’s kid square for @cmbingo​. This is an AU of sorts in which Strauss has an adult child around the 7-8 season of the show (no Maeve). I think you see where this is going ;)

If someone had told Spencer a year ago that he was going to be head over heels in love, he would’ve thought they were insane. But here he was, heart racing, sweaty and laughing with his girlfriend in his arms. “That was, um, wow. Yea.”

She giggled into his chest and nipped playfully at his arm, pulling the covers over them both. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Smiling, Spencer kissed her on the forehead and took a deep breath. “Do you think we can come clean to your mom soon? I’d like for her not to kill me.”

She replied with a snickering laugh. “We’ll tell her soon, I promise. I’m just...mom’s always been a pain in the ass with me dating in general.” Her voice was muffled into Spencer’s chest. “So having to tell her that I’m sleeping with one of her agents is probably going to knock the wind out of her.”

The thought of telling Strauss that he was dating, i.e. sleeping with, her daughter made his stomach churn. Despite the macabre work, he loved his job. He was good at it and he wanted to keep it. “You think she’ll fire me?”

“No way,” Y/N laughed. “She gives you guys grief sometimes, but she constantly talks about the BAU. She calls you the BAU’s walking, talking computer.”

Spencer laughed under his breath. “An eidetic memory has its perks. But you promise we’ll say something soon?”

“Definitely.”

-----

Nearly two weeks later, they still hadn’t said anything and the relationship was heating up fast. On her way out of work, Y/N texted Spencer. 

Y/N: Do you want to tell mom now? I could stop by the bureau and we can get it over with.

S: Please? I think she stepped out for dinner but she told Hotch she’ll be back in a little bit.

Y/N: Okay. Here goes nothing! lol. On my way.

Thankfully, Y/N only worked a few minutes away as a chemical engineer, so she walked off the elevator into the bullpen just 10 minutes later. 

She strode across the floor toward Spencer and gave him a quick kiss. “Mom back?”

“Not yet,” Spencer grimaced. The closer they got to telling Strauss about their relationship the more he wanted to hurl his guts up. “How was your day?”

As she regaled him with the findings of her latest research, Spencer relaxed into his chair with dopey, lovestruck smile. 

“What?” Y/N asked with a laugh.

Spencer leaned forward and grabbed her hands. “Oh, you know, just marveling at your brilliance and falling more and more in love.”

Laughing, she blushed. “Flattery will get you anywhere you want to go, Spencer Reid.” When she leaned into him, she brushed her hand against his inner thigh. “There somewhere around here we can be alone?”

Immediately, the recently vacated office of Dr. Blaine Ledbetter came to mind. Grabbing her hand, he led her to the office and shut the door behind them. Her hands ghosted over his neck, teasing at possibilities before her lips meet his. As she slipped her tongue passed his lips, he groaned and pulled her close by the small of her back, his fingers sliding underneath the hem of her shirt. “God, I love you.”

Chuckling softly, Y/N replied. “I think I love you more.” She slipped her hand under his belt, grabbing his ass as he pinned her up against the wall. In an instant, heat dissolved when they heard a voice on the other side of the door. “Hello? Who’s in there?” 

Spencer went wide-eyed. Chief Strauss. His boss and his girlfriend’s mother. It couldn’t get worse.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Y/N? What are you-?”

When she opened the door, she shielded Spencer from the death glare. “Um, Mom. I believe you know Spencer?”

“SSA Reid, what’s happening here?”

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he summoned every bit of courage he had. He’d talked down dozens of unsubs; he could do this. “Chief Strauss, I know this looks bad and obviously being in this office is pretty inappropriate, but this isn’t random. I’m-I’m i-in love with your daughter.”

Her eyes softened.  “Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you freaking out. You’ve always been judgmental of the guys I’ve dated and you’ve told so many stories about the dangers of working at the Bureau that I didn’t want you to try and stop this before it started, you know? But it’s true. I’m in love with him, too.” She squeezed Spencer’s hand and leaned her head into her shoulder.

Sighing, Chief Strauss gave her blessing. “You’re a big girl, Y/N. I trust your judgment. And SSA Reid is a good agent. Agent Reid?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Hurt her and I’ll end you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Fine Lines - Part 4/4

Part of Coffee & Psychopaths, my Criminal Minds/Supernatural crossover! 

Word Count: ~6630 this chapter

Warnings: Canon-atypical honest discussions of trauma and recovery. Touches on a lot of the same mental health issues as the first three parts; if you’ve made it this far, I doubt there’s anything here that will bother you too much. 

A/N: With huge thanks to @stunudo​​ @fangirlxwritesx67​​ and @percywinchester27​​, for looking this over and giving feedback way back when I was first starting to write it. The first chapter of this filled my “Season 8″ square for CM Bingo 2021; it has now been so long that this chapter fills my “Season 8″ square for @cmbingo​ 2022! Oops. Better late than never. 

Pulls directly from the events of SPN 7x17, The Born-Again Identity, and 8x9, Citizen Fang. And while the timeline is different because of the way I diverged from canon, part of this is directly inspired by the end of CM 8x13, Magnum Opus. 

Sam stands in front of the window. A shadow of a person looks back at him from the glass. When he lifts his hands, turns them one way and then the other, inspects them, the shadow does the same. 

His fingernails will start breaking. His hair will start falling out. The idea should bother him. 

It’s a funny thing, having a body. 

He doesn’t feel particularly connected to his body, or to that reflected image in the glass. The body is heavy, leaden, slowly failing on him. Sam, meanwhile, feels thin and worn, like a breeze could blow him right out of his body. Maybe that would be better. He wouldn’t mind that. 

He presses his thumb into his palm, and the throb of pain makes him feel, for just a moment, that he has some measure of control. Maybe he shouldn’t be hurting his body like this, but he doesn’t have the energy to care.

It’s just blood and skin, and it’s been used to do terrible things, both by Sam and by others: Meg, Lucifer… 

The last time this body was really his, and his alone, he was six months old. 

Sam thinks about giving up. He’s so goddamn tired. He’s tired of fighting monsters and he’s tired of fighting the evil thing in his head and he’s tired of fighting for control of his own body. 

It’s the thought of Dean that pulls him back. Dean wouldn’t forgive himself. Hell, Dean wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

Dean wouldn’t accept it, more importantly. The only time Dean’s ever stopped fighting for him was when he was in the Cage, when heaven and hell hung in the balance. Even if he did find a way to end it, would Dean accept that choice? Or would Dean bring him back? 

They always come back to each other. 

Sam presses down on his palm, hearing Dean’s voice: believe in that. I am your flesh-and-blood brother, okay? 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

It’s after 2am when Spencer gets home. Maeve likes to keep the bedroom door open, and she’s a light sleeper, so he closes the front door carefully before tiptoeing through the dark living room to the kitchen. He turns on the oven light and pours a glass of water and makes himself drink all of it, standing there at the counter, and then he washes his hands, scrubbing with scalding-hot water until his skin is pink. 

Spencer sits cross-legged at the table, but from there he can see his reflection in the window. He scowls at it and sits on the floor instead, with his back to the counter, and the linoleum is cool under him as he tries to breathe.

He curls up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, dropping his forehead, trying to let the tears out as quietly as possible. It almost hurts, holding back the deep wracking sobs, but he manages; there’s only the occasional gasping breath to give him away. 

He’s so fucking tired of dead bodies. 

It’s just like this, sometimes, after a bad case; his skin crawls and his bones ache like they’re tired of holding him together. It’ll pass. He knows how to take care of himself when he’s like this: time and space, darkness and quiet, solitude. Solitude and a soft blanket. 

It was never a problem when he lived alone. 

Maeve is always so happy to see him, so sweet, so affectionate. She hugs him, wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his chest, and she lets out a barely-there exhale when she does it, when she’s pressed as close as she can, like a sigh of relief that he’s really home. Even if it’s the middle of the night, she’ll reach out for him, still half-asleep, and snuggle close. 

Most of the time, it’s wonderful. Spencer’s not a fan of touch, but she’s an exception; he feels so lucky to be able to touch her. She’s gotten used to his quirks — she knows not to sneak up on him, not to touch from behind him, to give plenty of warning. She understands, to the extent that anyone can understand a thing without feeling it themselves. 

Tonight, though — and on other nights like it — the idea of another person’s body against his makes him feel sick and panicky, the sort of panicky that makes it difficult to breathe, let alone talk… or explain what’s wrong. 

It was a couple months ago that they first ran into this problem. Spencer recoiled from Maeve’s welcome-home hug, and she got this raw, wounded look in her eyes. When he tried to explain, the words came out all wrong. She stared at him like he was crazy, and for a moment Spencer wondered if she was right. 

They talked it out, and she asked if he would try to compromise, to meet her halfway. He said yes, but he’s still not sure what she wants from him. There is no halfway here. Either they’re touching, or they’re not. 

The thing is, she gets anxious when he’s away. That first hug is her way of reassuring herself that he’s really there, solid and warm and breathing in her arms. He can see the effect it has on her, when he asks for space; she’s jumpy and unsettled, like it was worse to see him and not be able to touch than to be separated in the first place. 

Last time, it made Spencer feel so guilty that he swallowed the discomfort and hugged her anyway. Then he had a full-blown panic attack, and she blamed herself, and everything was so much worse. 

Touch, for her, is like coming ashore, like the first step onto solid ground. For Spencer, it’s like saltwater in his lungs. He wishes he could change for her, but he can’t. He spent thirty years trying and failing; his mind and his body have been at war for most of his life. He lost this battle a long time ago. 

It’s easier this way, sitting on the kitchen floor and breathing through the shakes while she sleeps in the next room; it’s easier, but Spencer feels lonely, now, in a way he never did before she moved in. He was used to being alone, before she got here. Now he’s all too aware of the space between their bodies and what it means to each of them. 

Sometimes he wonders if things weren’t better when he could love her from a distance.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Spencer’s arrival startles Sam out of his listless daze. He’s on the phone when he comes in, making a vaguely irritated face, and he immediately holds the phone out to Sam. 

“It’s your brother,” he explains. 

Sam takes the phone and sits on the edge of the bed, vision swimming with the exertion of the movement. 

“Hey, Dean.”  

“I think I found something,” Dean says gruffly. “I think… I think I found somebody who can help.” 

“Yeah?” Sam’s too tired to feel anything at the pronouncement. 

“We’re on the way, we’re just — we’ll be there in a couple hours. You just need to hang on a little longer. Okay?”  

“Yeah, okay,” Sam says. 

“How’re you feeling?” Dean asks. 

“Fine,” Sam says, because that’s what they always say. “See you soon.” 

“Just… a little bit longer,” Dean repeats, and Sam closes the phone, handing it back to Spencer. His hands are shaking visibly. 

“How are you actually?” Spencer asks, and Sam almost manages to laugh. 

“Not great.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Will it do any good?” 

“It might,” Spencer says, and Sam raises a skeptical eyebrow. “No, really. Even if it’s uncomfortable… in theory, trauma therapy is like inoculation: flashbacks become much less severe if patients can find ways to acknowledge those memories without being overwhelmed by them. It’s a difficult balance, but it you let them in a bit at a time—”

“Too late for that,” Sam says abruptly. “Already let him in. That’s the whole problem, here, right? I said yes. I let him in.” 

Spencer gives him a sharp, searching look. “Doesn’t mean that you deserve this.” 

Sam’s exhale is shaky. 

“I know,” he lies. 

Spencer studies him, frowning, but doesn’t press the issue. 

“I brought a book,” he says, and pulls it out of his messenger bag. “Figured… might help to get out of your head a bit? Focus on someone else’s life.”

Sam almost manages a smile at that, but he can barely concentrate on Spencer, let alone words. 

“Not sure my eyes will focus long enough to read, honestly.”

“I can read out loud,” Spencer says. 

Something about that offer twists deep in Sam’s chest, and his vision goes misty for a moment. When was the last time someone read to him? 

It was years ago, and Sam remembers it all too well. He’d been sick and miserable. Dean had put on a brave face, but he couldn’t hide the way he kept looking out the window, wondering if their dad would come back. 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

“Thank you again,” JJ says, hugging Spencer tight, and then she hugs Maeve too. “You guys are going to make amazing parents someday.” 

“My pleasure,” Maeve says. 

Spencer adds, “Any time.” 

He offers to drive, as they walk out, but Maeve brushes him off, just like she always does. She’s smiling, and there’s a sweet faraway look in her eyes, illuminated in gold from the streetlamp, as she pulls away from the curb. She’s so beautiful; it still takes him by surprise. 

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asks. 

“Not sure,” she says, and she sounds happy about it. “There’s that concert in the park in the evening, and the new exhibit at the science museum…” 

“I just —” he starts, and then swallows his irritation. “I’d like to make a plan. There are things I need to do tomorrow. I have a list.” 

“Let’s figure it out together tomorrow morning, okay? I have a list too, I just don’t want to make a plan until I see what the weather will be like.” 

Spencer resists the urge to pull out her smartphone and open the weather app for her. 

He knows he shouldn’t be so controlling. He’s trying, he’s been trying so hard to be better — to be more flexible — to let things go. 

Compromise. He needs to compromise. 

“First thing?” he asks. 

“First thing,” she promises. 

“Okay.” 

She turns on the radio — preset to NPR — and holds her hand out across the center console, palm up. Spencer laces their fingers together, squeezing gently and then letting go before he starts thinking about germs. 

“JJ’s right, you know,” she says softly, and gives him a quick smile. “You’re going to be such a great dad.” 

Spencer watches her for a moment, his chest tight, barely able to breathe for how much he loves her. 

“You think so?” 

“God, yes. I hope they get your bone structure,” Maeve comments. 

He’s never really thought about that, somehow, in all the time he’s spent daydreaming about fatherhood; he’s never tried to imagine what his kids might look like. 

Now he can’t stop thinking about it. 

The thought keeps him awake, later, even when Maeve is snoring next to him. Spencer tosses and turns for an hour before he finally slips out of bed, grabbing his phone, finding his robe in the dim glow of the nightlight and pulling it on over his pajamas before he tiptoes out carefully. 

He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on, looking resentfully at the box of Sleepytime tea, before texting Sam: Are you awake? 

He just needs to unwind for a couple hours. 

A few months ago, if he needed to think something through, Spencer would’ve made himself some coffee, put on a record, and played chess for the rest of the night. 

Spencer’s busy dumping sugar into his mug when Sam calls. He feels a little bit panicky, and he’s pretty sure no amount of chamomile is going to change that. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“Maeve wants kids,” Spencer blurts out. 

There’s a long pause. 

“Like… tomorrow?” 

“No! God, no.” Spencer takes a sip of tea and burns his tongue. 

“You want kids too. So… that’s good, right?” 

“I really, really do. But she’s the first person I’ve ever met who I can imagine wanting to procreate with. This is… it’s not theoretical any more,” Spencer says slowly, trying to find the right words. “She said she hopes they have my bone structure.” 

Sam laughs. “Fair enough. Shit, those would be some smart kids.”

“It made me think about genetics,” Spencer explains. “The issue is — what if — there are so many variables, and — there are so many things that could go wrong with physical genes alone. There are so many genetic diseases, I don’t know —” 

“Whoa, hey, breathe. Okay?”

“Flesh and blood is the least of it,” Spencer says. His throat is tight. “What if they get the other genes too? It’d be my fault, and there are things in my genes that — that I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”

Sam lets out a long exhale in a crackle of static. “There’s the good stuff, too.” 

“But it’s out of my control. And I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than — the rest of it. The stuff I can control. You know?” Spencer takes a sip of tea, realizes he’s left the bag in too long, and spits it right back out. “Because it’s one thing to roll the dice on genetics, but if I have a choice and I make the wrong choice… statistically, children of divorced parents —” 

“You’re not going to turn into your dad,” Sam says firmly.  

“It’s not that easy, though, is it? We say we want to break the cycle of what our parents did to us, but you only have so much control over your attachment patterns.” 

Sam hesitates. His voice sounds heavy when he says, “I know how you feel. I wish I could be more reassuring, but… I know how you feel.” 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Spencer goes to get lunch — or is it dinner? Time doesn’t have much meaning in the psych hospital; the dull yellow lights are always the same. 

When he comes back, the doctor is leaning over Sam, shining a light in his eyes, and Spencer feels cold all over, for a moment, before Sam stirs. 

“I can’t give you any more medication,” the doctor is saying grimly. “The potential for overdose is too great.”

Sam holds a hand up in front of his own face, looking at it dazedly. His fingernails are bloody. He doesn’t seem to notice Spencer.  

“We need to talk about surgical solutions,” the doctor says, and Spencer frowns. He knows he shouldn’t interrupt, but that’s wrong. Something is wrong here. 

Spencer cuts in: “There are no approved surgical methods to—” 

He doesn’t finish the sentence because he’s choking. There’s an oily dark smoke streaming into his open mouth, funneling down his throat, filling his lungs, thick and sulfur-scented. The doctor glances at him, and his eyes are pure black. 

Spencer can’t breathe. 

By the time he realizes what’s happening, it’s too late. There’s someone else in his body. 

It’s nightmarish, the sensation of being paralyzed while another consciousness controls his flesh and blood. All Spencer can do is watch, horrified, as his own hands strap Sam to a gurney and start to wheel him down the hall. 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Sam throws the ball — watches Riot run for it — over and over again. 

He wonders if he should just leave, give Amelia and Don a chance — would that be the right thing to do? Probably. They’re married, after all. 

He’s angry. It’s an uncomfortable sensation; it doesn’t sit right in his chest. 

He doesn’t want to leave. 

Jessica feels like a lifetime ago, like it was an entirely different person who fell in love with her, but Sam thinks about her all the time. She was his first real relationship, and she had to teach him, sometimes, how to be in a relationship. He worked so hard to unlearn the patterns he’d been raised with. 

When they fought, his first instinct was always to leave, and Jessica called him on it: “Why do you do that?” 

“I just need some time,” he said. “I just need to get away for a bit, so I’m not — I don’t want to be angry with you. I hate fighting with you.” 

“I still love you,” Jess said, rolling her eyes. “A fight isn’t the end of the world, Sam. It’s okay to be angry sometimes.”

It took Sam a few minutes to breathe through the panic, but Jess just waited patiently, holding his hand, reminding him that they were okay — that she still loved him — that she wasn’t going anywhere. 

Sam knew it went back to his family. Dean and John would dig in their heels when they were angry, get their hackles up and fight back twice as hard when they were backed into a corner — when they realized they were wrong. Fight or flight was a normal enough response. It’s just that Sam’s family fought harder than most. Get them to a certain point of anger, and it would only end one way; Dean always hit a wall or a pillow or a monster, but John wasn’t so careful.

Sam learned that lesson the hard way. He learned that the best way to de-escalate was to walk away before things really got bad. 

“You’re not your dad,” Jess told him gently. “You can do things differently. We’re gonna fight each other sometimes, but at the end of the day, we’ll fight just as hard to make this work. Together. Right?” 

Riot nudges his nose under Sam’s hand, and Sam scratches behind his ears before he throws the ball again. He’s sitting on the porch steps that he fixed himself; half of them were rotted through, when they moved in. 

The last time Sam stayed in one place for this long, he was with Jess. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. Sam of all people should know that you can only run for so long before the past catches up with you. 

He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to walk out. That’s just another Winchester pattern; he can do things differently. 

This is worth fighting for. 

Amelia comes out and sits down next to him. She looks stunned, still. 

“Thought about what you're gonna say to him?” 

“I've thought about it and thought about it, and I still don't know.” 

Sam takes a deep breath. “Look, I'm sure you have a lot of people telling you what the right thing to do is here.” 

“Sam.” 

“He's your husband, Amelia,” he says helplessly. “But I don't... I don't want to do the right thing. I mean, this is the right thing, you and me. And maybe I'm going to hell for saying this, but I'm not ready to give this up.” 

“Neither am I.” Her face softens, and she slips her hand into his. “Would it bother you if I just took some time to clear my head?” 

“Oh.” Sam tries to breathe. “Um… of course. Uh, take whatever time you need. I can just — I can go, for a bit.”

“You don’t have to, maybe I can —” 

“No. No, it’s fine.” Sam forces a smile. “Might be good. I’ll hit the road, head out to DC. Give you a week or two. Okay?” 

“Thank you,” she says, and her eyes are sad, but she does look relieved. “Thanks. I think that’d be good.” 

Sam never unpacked his bag, from the trip back in January. It’s a little too easy to leave. 

The worst part is, he’s not surprised. The cycles of his life run the same way, over and over again, whether he likes it or not. The past will always catch up. Sam will always leave, or be left.  

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Spencer can’t shake the lingering smell of sulfur. 

He goes to the bathroom and washes his hands, splashes water over his face… when he looks in the mirror, he half expects to see black eyes staring back. 

But it’s just him. He raises a hand, flexes the fingers, lifts his chin defiantly at his reflection. He’s in control of his muscles again, but it feels like his skin doesn’t fit quite right — as if the demon stretched it out of shape, like a sweater that’s been on a cheap wire hanger too long.

When he gets back, Dean and Castiel are still at Sam’s bedside. Dean looks furious. 

“What the hell do you mean you can't?” he snaps. 

“I mean there's nothing left to rebuild.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it crumbled. The pieces got crushed to dust by whatever's happening inside his head right now.” 

“Are you really trying to just… magic this away?” Spencer asks incredulously. “That’s not how trauma works! You can’t just wall it up and pretend it doesn’t exist and then expect Sam to heal!” 

“Why not? It worked the first time! If he hadn’t started poking at it —” 

“So now it’s his fault?” Spencer exclaims. 

“No! No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just — I’m just trying to protect him!” 

“You can’t protect someone from the contents of their own head. Sam’s the only person who can choose what to do here.” 

“You got any better ideas, Doc? Cause believe me, I’m listening.” 

Spencer’s voice is cold and furious when he says, “I would’ve suggested listening to Sam, but it’s a little late for that.” 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that if your brother had been able to talk about what he experienced, maybe you could’ve avoided this in the first place!” 

“Bullshit. He was tortured, Spencer, talking about that doesn’t just make it disappear!” 

“Of course it doesn’t! Nothing can make that disappear. But that’s all you can do: you reach out, you connect, you talk, you process it… that’s how people heal: by learning how to let themselves be vulnerable. By rebuilding trust. Not by putting up more walls.” 

“Now who’s the one saying this is Sam’s fault?” Dean barks. “Are you sayin’ that he deserves this for not talking about his feelings?” 

“I’m saying maybe you need to think about why your brother doesn’t want to tell you things.” 

Dean recoils like Spencer hit him. Then he pulls on his mask again, composes his features, and takes a step forward, making himself physically intimidating, like he wants Spencer to be scared of him. 

“You’re out of line. You have no idea —” 

“Look, I may not know magic, but I know psychology. The fact is… if everyone had someone to talk to — if they weren’t so afraid to ask for help instead of isolating themselves — I’d probably be out of a job.” Spencer forces himself to meet Dean’s glare without flinching. “Everybody puts up walls. Everybody tries to keep people out, or… protect people from what they’re dealing with. Whatever the reason, people think it’s safer that way. But the only way you can really get through the lowest points is by letting other people share the weight of whatever you’re trying to carry.” 

Dean’s eyes are wide and startled and suddenly filled with tears, like that cut much deeper than Spencer intended it to. It’s hard to watch the way Dean looks down, turns away, shoulders heaving as he takes a deep breath. 

“Maybe there’s something I can do,” Cas says thoughtfully. Spencer and Dean both turn to him. “Maybe… I can share it.” 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Spencer arrives at Alex’s not long after Sam does. He gives Sam a genuine smile when he raises a hand in greeting, but it’s easy to see that he’s distracted; it’s like there’s a storm cloud over his head as he settles at the counter. 

Alex just made a fresh pot of coffee. She passes them both mugs and sits across from them before saying to Sam, “So? That must’ve been a helluva shock. How are you feeling?” 

Sam shrugs. He explained the basics of the situation to both of them on the phone, but he doesn’t really want to think about Amelia right now; the drive cleared his head, and there’s no point bringing all those anxieties back up. 

“Guess that’s up to her,” he says softly, and shakes his head like he can physically shake the worry off. “How about you?” he asks Spencer. “How’s Maeve?” 

Spencer gives him a weak impression of a smile, fidgeting with his coffee mug, turning it around in his hands. “She’s… good. Fine. She’s been at a conference, but she’ll be back tonight.”

Sam and Alex exchange a quick look. 

“Do you miss her?” Alex asks, and her voice is gentle but her eyes are sharp. 

“Not as much as I probably should,” Spencer says guiltily, and then he shakes his head and insists, “I love her, though. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Her mind is — she’s just — she’s brilliant. I feel like I could talk to her for the rest of my life and not get bored, but…” Spencer’s voice trails off. He shrugs, staring into his cup self-consciously.

“But?” Alex prompts. 

Spencer hesitates. “When she’s here — when we’re just going through our lives together — a lot of the time I wish I was alone.” 

“There’s a big difference between loving someone and being able to live with them,” Sam says wryly, thinking of Dean. 

Spencer sighs. “I thought it’d get easier. I thought… maybe it would just take practice. Maybe I could change. Maybe when we learned how to communicate — but it’s like… the better we know each other, the harder it gets to live with each other.”

“I know you know this, but relationships are hard,” Alex says gently. “But you’re fighting for it. That’s all you can do, really.” 

“How do I know when to stop fighting?” Spencer says, and the words burst out like he’s been holding onto them for a while. “Because I’m tired of it. I keep telling myself things will change, I’m trying to be optimistic, but at a certain point, optimism becomes delusion. What if fighting for the relationship means fighting against my own nature?” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

Spencer thinks about that for a moment. “I was doing some research, and I found a book—”

“Shocking,” Sam mutters, and Spencer cracks a smile. 

“Well, it helped. It was about ‘love languages,’ and hers is touch. And that’s — that’s not —” He shrugs helplessly, then glances from Sam to Alex, like he’s silently pleading for them to understand. “That’s her love language, and to me it’s like speaking a foreign language. But that’s a flawed analogy, because I could learn a foreign language. Sometimes the idea of touching someone is just… I can’t.” He seems panicky just thinking about it, rubbing his palms on his corduroys like he’s trying to wipe them clean. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Alex says firmly.  

“I know! I know that. I do. And it took me… years to learn that. It took me most of my life to learn how to be okay with myself.” Spencer takes a deep breath, shoving his hands through his hair, and the words start to come faster and faster. “There are parts of me that don’t fit, when she’s around; they don’t fit with what she wants, and I love her so much that I’ve started to hate those pieces of myself. And if I was fine to begin with… if I’m changing myself trying to fit her, is that self-improvement? Or self-mutilation?” 

His voice breaks, and Spencer pauses, taking a deep shuddery breath, steadying himself. 

Alex says, “If you don’t want to talk about it, Spencer—”

“No, it’s… it’s good, actually, it helps.” 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

They try to make Sam stay twenty-four hours for observation, but he sneaks out after twelve solid hours of sleep and one last look at Cas, still catatonic, through the window. Sam doesn’t like leaving him there, but there’s no other option, so they get in the car and start driving. 

The rumble of the engine soothes him in a way that none of the psych meds ever did. Sam balls his jacket up against the window and settles in to get some more sleep. 

“Hey, before you knock out,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the hesitation in his voice, hear the rough, tight sound of the words, like Dean doesn’t actually want to be saying them. 

“Yeah?” 

“Doc said something —” Dean stops, glares at the rearview like it’s personally offended him, and clears his throat. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Sam makes a dismissive sound. “Yeah, Dean. Sure.” 

“No, I’m — I mean it, Sammy. You were carryin’ around some shit that a goddamn angel couldn’t handle, and I didn’t even know until it was too late. But. There’s nothing you could say that would make me walk away from you. Okay?” 

Sam’s surprised by the way that twists in his chest like a knife. 

“Okay,” he says, trying to smile, but his voice sounds bitter anyway. 

“I know I don’t necessarily have a great track record with that,” Dean says. His mouth twitches down at the corners, and Sam realizes he’s close to tears. “I always come back, though. You’re my brother. I’m not giving up on you, not ever.” 

How many times have they made this promise to each other? How many times have they vowed to be more honest, to stop keeping secrets, to stick together and not let anything come between them? 

Nobody else could ever hurt him the way Dean has over the years, countless times: with fists and lies and disgusted glances; by walking and driving away; by slamming the door behind him; by leaving Sam over and over again. 

They fall into these patterns, and it’s not healthy. If it was anyone else, Sam would’ve given up a long time ago, but it’s Dean. He loves Dean more than breathing. 

I won’t leave.

Those are the words Sam’s always wanted to hear. He wants to believe it. He wants to believe they can be better.  

It shouldn’t be so difficult to live with someone he would die for.  

“Love you too, Dean,” he says quietly, and settles in to get some sleep. 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

It doesn’t quite look right without her. There are reminders of her everywhere, now — memories she left in her wake. There’s the lamp they picked out together — empty spaces on the shelves — empty drawers in the dresser… Spencer sees her everywhere, even in her absence. 

She took her bookshelf — the one Spencer made space for in his apartment when she moved in. They put some of his books in a box in the closet, to make room, and added the extra shelf, and together they reorganized their combined collection until it all fit neatly in their shared space. 

He wasn’t home when she came with her parents to pack everything up. He came back from the trip to find Maeve’s bookshelf gone, and the books from it were stacked on the floor. There were empty spaces on the remaining  shelves, formerly tidy rows of books falling down, tilted to the side. 

Now Spencer has to rearrange everything; he has to put his life back the way it was. Nothing fits the way it used to. 

He hauls out the boxes of his books from the closet and starts to pull them out, but he has to reorganize everything, and he doesn’t know where to start. Then he sees the book she gave him, “The Narrative of John Smith,” inscribed with the quote in her handwriting, and it hurts to look at, but it hurts worse to imagine throwing it away. 

Spencer wraps his arms around the book, holding it close to his chest, and curls up on the couch. 

It was almost anticlimactic, in the end. Maeve looked resigned, but not surprised. 

“We did everything we could, right?” Spencer asked. “I tried. I tried so hard.” 

“Yeah, Spencer. We did everything we could,” Maeve echoed sadly. Then she kissed him on the cheek and walked out the door. 

This isn’t how a love story is supposed to end. 

He never expected a fairy tale or a simple “happily ever after.” He knew it would be work. But he always believed that if they fought for it, they’d win. 

They did everything right. Why wasn’t that enough? 

He’s settling in for a nice little depression nap when he hears the knock at the door, and he sighs. Getting up to answer the door sounds exhausting, and dealing with a sympathetic friend sounds even worse. 

“Spencer, I know you’re in there,” comes Sam’s voice. 

“I’m fine,” Spencer calls. 

For a moment, there’s silence, and then Spencer hears a quiet click and scrape, the door handle jiggling slightly. By the time he recognizes the sounds of a lock being picked, the door is swinging open. Spencer sits upright and glares over the top of the couch. 

“What the hell?” he says, and it sounds whiny even to his own ears. 

“It was either me with my lock picks or Derek with his boots,” Sam tells him.

Spencer scowls at him and flops back down, but Sam just comes around the couch and settles in an armchair, raising his eyebrows in a decidedly judgmental way. 

Spencer burrows deeper into the couch before mumbling, “I’m fine.” 

“Clearly.” He gestures vaguely at Spencer’s overall state of disaster. “Why are you cuddling a book?”

“It’s not just any book,” Spencer says morosely. “It’s the book she gave me when — when we were supposed to meet up for the first time, and she wrote a quote inside, and… what if that was it? I mean, there’s nobody else like her.”

“Just because there’s nobody else like her, doesn’t mean there’s nobody else out there for you,” Sam says quietly. “It’s not about finding the perfect person. Nobody’s perfect. It’s about… the way you fit together.” 

“I miss her,” Spencer confesses, and his voice breaks. “I know we didn’t fit, but I miss her anyway. Is that stupid?” 

“No,” Sam says, without hesitating. 

Spencer sits upright, with what feels like a massive effort. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and frowns down at the book, trying to find the right words. 

“I was so lonely,” he says softly. “I told you, the first time we met; it’s lonely being the smartest person in the room. It’s lonely feeling like you can’t share parts of yourself.” 

Sam gives him a sad little smile. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” 

“So when I found someone who was like me, I thought that was it. I thought I’d found somebody who would stay. I really believed she was my soul mate.” He shrugs helplessly. “Why couldn’t that be enough?” 

Sam frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped between them. His eyes go distant and his forehead wrinkles, and finally he offers, “Because you’re more than a soul.” 

Spencer blinks at him a few times, surprised by that. 

“What do I do now?” he asks, throat scratchy. 

“You pick everything up and try again. You learn from it. What else can you do?” Sam shrugs. “But first things first. Let’s get you showered and caffeinated and we’ll go from there.” 

“That sounds exhausting,” Spencer mutters, and flops down dramatically again. 

Sam sighs. “Do I need to speak your language? Uh… love activates the ventral tegmental area of the brain and releases high levels of dopamine, and right now you’re experiencing physiological withdrawal the same way you would from an addiction. The best way to make yourself feel better is to engage in activities that will stimulate dopamine production. My brother would probably recommend beer and strippers, but — somehow I don’t think that’s what you need.” 

“That’s irritatingly logical,” Spencer grumbles.  

“You shower, I’ll make coffee. Deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Spencer puts the book down gently, gets to his feet, and shuffles toward the bathroom. His body feels too heavy. 

He starts the shower, waits for it to heat up, and undresses quickly. The scalding-hot jet of it feels good on the tight muscles of his shoulders. Spencer sighs, breathing in the steam, and starts to clean himself up. 

Life would be so much easier if he was only a soul. 

Spencer’s been living in this body for decades, now. He knows it; he knows that those are his scrawny arms under his palms, his skin under the lather of soap, his flesh and blood — this body is part of who he is, but he’s not sure he’ll ever feel fully connected to it, let alone love it.  

He gets out of the shower, towels off, and goes to brush his teeth. The mirror is fogged over; he wipes it with one hand and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Maybe it’d be easier to love himself if the face looking back at him in the mirror wasn’t quite so familiar. 

Spencer looks down at the porcelain as he finishes brushing his teeth. He goes into his room and searches in the dresser for clean clothes — he hates seeing the empty spaces there. 

When he goes to the kitchen, Sam is standing in the middle of the room, phone held to his ear, mouth slack with shock, face pale. 

“Uh-huh,” he says. He doesn’t seem to notice Spencer. “Yeah. I’ll be there soon.” 

He hangs up, staring numbly down at the phone in his hand. 

“Everything okay?” Spencer asks. 

“That was Dean.”  

Spencer blinks at him a few times. “Your brother?” 

“Yeah.” Sam’s smile is shaky. It stretches, cracks, goes crooked.  

“I thought —” 

“Apparently not,” Sam says, with a brittle, high-pitched laugh. “What am I — shit. I gotta go.”

“Just like that? What about Amelia?” Spencer asks quietly. “What about… everything?” 

“I don’t know. I guess… I’ll figure it out.” Sam digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looks unsteady on his feet as he moves toward the door, steps jerky and mechanical. “It’s Dean. We always come back to each other.” 

Part of Spencer wants to remind Sam of everything he’s built for himself, without Dean. Sam might not admit it, but Spencer knows how much it means to him, to have built a life for himself that doesn’t revolve around hunting — doesn’t revolve around his past, or anyone who might hold it against him. 

Part of Spencer wonders if it’s healthy, the way that Sam’s willing to drop everything, without question, and drive across the country to go back to a brother who’s left him behind so many times.  

But the truth is that all he feels, in this moment, is jealousy. He’s not sure what it’d be like, to love someone that much — to be willing to forgive them, just like that, over and over again. 

Sam gives him a quick, tight hug and says, “Thanks for everything.” 

“Of course.” Spencer lifts a hand in an awkward little wave. “See you soon.” 

“Yeah,” Sam says, and he sounds surprised to find the words coming out of his mouth: “I’ll be back.” 

Spencer’s surprised to find that he believes it. 

The door closes behind Sam with a sharp, abrupt sound. 

Spencer looks around at the mess again, and he feels very alone. He sits down next to a pile of books, so overwhelmed that it’s hard to breathe for a second. 

He pulls out his phone and dials, and when Derek picks up, he says, “I think I need some help.” 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

There is only one serious question. And that is: Who knows how to make love stay?

-Tom Robbins

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Drabble: reader is Spencer’s sister (who’s also on the team) and she’s with Derek, they have a baby and they come to the FBI headquarters to visit. The baby is a boy and they name him ‘Noah’

April Challenge

Title: New Addition to the Family

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 451

Square Filled: coworker’s sibling (2021 card) for @cmbingo

This is the first time you’ve been back to work since you had your baby boy, Noah. Derek has been back for months now, but you had to stay home with your newborn to take care of him. Derek insisted you don’t come back to work for at least six months, but you’re going crazy in your two-bedroom apartment with no one else to talk to. Yes, JJ and Penelope have come over after work and on their days off, but it’s just you when Derek and his team are away.

Plus, you haven’t seen your big brother in a while, and you knew he’d love to meet his nephew.

Derek doesn’t know you’re coming to the office to surprise him, in fact, no one does. The only reason why you know they are in the office and not on some plane is because you asked Penelope if Derek would be available to talk. She told you that today is a paperwork kind of day, which is exactly what you needed.

The elevator ride is short and sweet, and before you get off, you make sure your son’s happy face can be seen by everyone once you walk in. Everyone on your team is running around the office trying to get their work done, but the two most important men in your life are at their desks.

JJ immediately spots you and gives a wide smile, but you put a finger over your mouth to silence her.

“Look who I found. I found Daddy!” you say to Noah.

Derek and Spencer’s heads turn to you when they recognize your voice, and they jump out of their seats to greet you, as well as everyone else on your team.

“I didn’t know you were coming in. What a surprise,” Derek grins. He leans down and gives you a kiss before turning to his son. “Come here, my little man.”

He picks him up and introduces him to everyone on your team. Spencer, however, goes straight to you to give you a hug.

“It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, big brother,” you grin and cling to him. “I needed out of that apartment. Plus, he still hasn’t met his uncle.”

“Would you like to hold him?” Derek asks his friend.

“Yes,” Spencer nods.

Noah is placed gently into Spencer’s arms, and your entire body is warmed at the sight. He wasn’t able to come to the hospital after the birth, so this is the next best thing. It’s only been a few weeks since Noah was born, but you feel like he’s been here longer. He’s a new addition to your ever-growing family, and you are in love with it all.

[ineverhaveanynormalfans]

I posted 352 times in 2021

13 posts created (4%)

339 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 26.1 posts.

I added 61 tags in 2021

#gi recommends - 11 posts

#gi writes - 10 posts

#smut - 8 posts

#supernatural - 7 posts

#masterlist - 7 posts

#criminal minds - 5 posts

#sam x reader - 4 posts

#criminal minds fanfiction - 3 posts

#sam winchester smut - 3 posts

#fanfic - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 80 characters

#these two idjits and their bee loving angel and their half angel kid and the dog

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Thanks for tagging me @shadyladyperfection!

I - Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

N - no body, no crime (feat. HAIM) by Taylor Swift

E - Everlong by Foo Fighters

V - Valarie (feat. Amy Winehouse) by Mark Ronson

E - Edge of Seventeen by The Wind and The Wave

R - Rocky Took A Lover by Bell X1

H - Hell On Heels by Pistol Annies

A - Alone Together by Fall Out Boy

V - Video Games by Lana Del Ray

E - Enter Sandman by Metallica

A - American Pie by Don McLean

N - No Time To Die by Billie Eilish

Y - You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC

N - Natural by Imagine Dragons

O - Only You by Yaz

R - River by Bishop Briggs

M - My Church by Maren Morris

A - All Too Well by Taylor Swift

L - Liar by Camila Cabello

F - From The Backseat by Lucy Hale

A - America’s Sweetheart by Elle King

N - Not A Pretty Girl by Ani DiFranco

S - Stupid Love by Lady Gaga

This was so much fun! I made a Spotify playlist for this if anyone wants a listen.

No pressure tags: @sierraraeck @thinkinghardhardlythinking @90spumkin @dancestargia @my-fav-imagines-17 @stunudo @mrswhozeewhatsis @marril96 any anyone else who wants to do it!

8 notes • Posted 2021-02-03 01:51:54 GMT

#4

Criminal Minds Tropes Bingo 2020 Masterlist

Completed fics for my card from 2020 @cmbingo​. All smut is marked with an *

Library* (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)  

Platonic Soulmates* (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)  

Team Dinner* (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

School* (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Bull Pen (Free Space) (Spencer Reid x Reader)

All The Things We Didn’t Say* (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

S1* (Spencer Reid x Lila Archer)

S14 (Spencer Reid x OFC)

Hurt/Comfort (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Romantic Soulmates* (Emily Prentiss x Reader)

Sharing Clothes (Spencer Reid x Lila Archer)

21 notes • Posted 2021-01-06 22:31:37 GMT

#3

Criminal Minds Kink Bingo Masterlist

Completed squares for @cm-kinkbingo 2020.

Not tagging these with an * as they all contain some form of smut.

Praise Kink  (Spencer Reid x Lila Archer)

Professor!AU  (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Beard Kink  (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Cock Warming  (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Restraints (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Dirty Talk  (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Aftercare (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Face Fucking  (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Subspace (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Bull Pen (Free Space) (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Exhibitionism (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Sex On A Case (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Reid x Lila Archer (Spencer Reid x Lila Archer)

Blindfolds (Emily Prentiss x Reader)

Face Sitting (Emily Prentiss x Reader)

Lingerie (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Breeding Kink (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

Dom/sub  (Emily Prentiss x Reader x Spencer Reid)

First Time (Spencer Reid x Reader)

34 notes • Posted 2021-01-07 13:06:13 GMT

#2

Bingo Masterlists

@cmbingo​

Criminal Minds Trope Bingo 2020

Criminal Minds Trope Bingo 2021

@cm-kinkbingo​

Criminal Minds Kink Bingo 2020

@anyfandomgoesbingo​

Any Fandom Goes 2020

@girl-next-door-writes​

Make Me Feel

Challenge Masterlists

Kinktober 2020

Kinkmas 2020

NSFW November 2021

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Supernatural Masterlist

36 notes • Posted 2021-01-07 16:06:50 GMT

#1

Kinktober 2020 Masterlist

Completed works for #Kinktober2020. All contain smut to some degree so proceed with caution.

1. threesome | toys under clothing | handjobs

2. lingerie | branding | costumes

3. master/slave | exhibitionism/voyeurism

4. nipple play | somnophilia | photography/nudes

5. anal | sleepy/morning sex | corset

6. toys | teratophilia/xenophilia | making out

7. boot/foot worship | glory hole | medical play

8. double penetration | begging  | degradation

9. bondage | formal wear | hypnosis/mind control

10. pegging | dirty talk | wax play

11. body swap | ovipositor | temperature play

12. hair pulling | collaring | omegaverse

13. masks | impact play | getting caught

14. sadism/masochism | body writing | face sitting

15. body modification | gags | size difference

16. shower sex | discipline | object insertion

17. transformation | breath play | chastity

18. spit roasting | biting | shibari

19. fisting | overstimulation | uniforms

20. shaving/grooming | cunnilingus | anonymous sex

21. tentacles | crossdressing/feminization | cock warming

22. fucking machine | masturbation | abduction

23. rimming | blowjobs | gangbang/orgy

24. sex pollen | first time/virginity | blood/gore

25. vibrator | predicament bondage | sounding

26. public use | distention | praise

27. orgasm control/denial | aphrodisiacs | knife play

28. angry/hate sex | suspension | role play

29. lap dance | pet play | leather

30. forniphilia | sensory deprivation | phone sex

31. aftercare | hand-holding

48 notes • Posted 2021-01-07 14:47:39 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[dreatine]

5 more pieces

I have 5 more pieces for @cmbingo 2021 which I’ll post tomorrow.

3 stories 1 playlist 1 collage

[cmbingo]

Sign ups: 2021 CM Trope Bingo

What: Criminal Minds Trope Bingo: A Prompt Game

We, your dubious admins, are here to invite you to participate in a Fan Creation Event! This ongoing tradition is in hopes to continue inspiring fanworks for as long as there is interest in our ragtag bunch of profilers.

Where: Tumblr

How:

By filling out a little entry form to receive your 2020 CM Trope Bingo Card.

Taking the prompts and then creating something (Visuals/ Fanfiction/ Videos/ Playlists) for the squares.

Each Square will get you 10 profiles (points).

Each Bingo Complete will earn you an extra 25 profiles. (4 corners count)

Free Space can be left blank or you can fill it for an extra 15 profiles.

Fill your board and get the max points. I’m not Reid, but I think it comes out to 580 profile points.

In order for us to tally points, we need you to tag us in your final masterlists which should include your bingo card. We haven’t really addressed points the first two rounds, but going forward we want to celebrate your efforts as much as possible.

Specifics:

We will give you your Bingo Card through submissions, if you absolutely hate some of the squares you got, we will switch out up to 5, but only ONCE.

Fanfics must be a minimum of 300 words. No max! Go crazy! Imagine, oneshot, mini series, 100K+ fic! Just please use the keep reading feature for anything over 500 words.

Visuals must contain at least 4 elements. Ex: 3 images and a lyric or 4 gifs with a running theme.

Fan Videos should be at least 30 secs. (Please link to Tumblr to receive credit)

Playlists: At least 8 songs and some type of album art.

Please tell us what square is being filled for any type of creation.

Only one prompt can be used per creation! Obviously, you may use the idea of two or three prompts within one series, but each installment counts for one square ONLY.

In regards to fanfic, you can go angst, smut, crack, fluff, whatever you like. However, if you want to write smut, you must be over 18 and your mods will be checking. If your age isn’t listed on your page, we will not accept any smut fics from you. This is for our protection as well as yours.

You must tag us! @cmbingo and use #cmbingo21 in the first five tags to receive credit.

*** RPF is not accepted for this bingo. **** (updated Jan. 31, 2021)

Registration ends: March 1, 2021

Submissions, Masterlist and Filled out Bingo Cards must be posted by December 20, 2021. Anything posted after that will not be reblogged by us.

Have any questions? Come ask us! We don’t bite :D

Example Card:

[ddreammcatcher]

Welcome to the 2021 round of Criminal Minds Trope Bingo!

Please send cmbingo an ask if you have any squares you would like to swap out (up to five).

Happy creating!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Spencer's Choice

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, reuniting long lost love, heartbreak, impossible choice to make

Summary: Breaking up with Spencer is the hardest thing you've ever had to do. You left and returned years later, only to run into him again. Feelings return that you thought were gone. Spencer has a choice to make: you or his family.

Square Filled: goodbye letter (2021) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Ah, back in your hometown. You miss the way the sunshine feels on your skin even when the wind blowing is almost at freezing temperatures. You miss the way the cars sound as they’re rushing down the road as a reminder that people need to leave earlier when it comes to this town. You miss the small-town feeling of everyone being so close-knit that you can check up on your neighbors and see how they’re doing every day.

You miss home.

You haven’t been back in the United States in a little over a year, and back in this town for much longer. Ever since you left after you graduated, you really haven’t looked back. It killed you to do so but you were on a mission to better people’s lives with your degree and experience. You’re a very skilled architect who has been involved in many unique projects all over the world. It’s been one big adventure that you love having. You’ve met genuinely good people, tried amazing and unique food, delved into different cultures, and got to experience what others only dream about.

Now you’re just glad to be back in your hometown, relax, and spend the money you’ve been saving for years.

You walk down the familiar road next to the park you used to go to after school every day with your friends. There is something brown in the middle of the sidewalk but upon closer examination, you see it’s a child’s teddy bear. You pick it up in hopes there is a name or a number you can call, but the only thing you can find is an address. Weird. Most people don’t put their addresses on kids’ toys but who are you to judge?

With a quick Google search, you find the address is only two blocks from where you’re at. This is your chance to be a good samaritan and return the bear to a child who is probably missing it. You find the house easily and walk up the porch steps. You knock on the door and wait only ten seconds before it opens. A young girl about the age of seven is standing there with sad eyes.

“Hi, does he belong to you?�� you ask and produce the bear.

Her eyes light up happily when she sees the toy. 

“Thank you so much!” she squeals and grabs it from you.

“Marissa, what did I tell you about answering the door without your mother or me?” you hear her dad say.

You look up and lock eyes with the only person you’ve ever been in love with: Spencer Reid. You two were high school sweethearts back then, and it was clear to everyone at that school that you two were going to end up together for life. You were in love with him so much and wished you could have stayed, but it broke your heart to break up with him.

You have always wanted to be an architect even when you were younger. Your parents got you Legos that you could build houses from, and you’d build all sorts of different houses with different rooms for everything a person could need. When you got to your junior year, you applied to different colleges for architecture which also included colleges outside of the United States. Never in a million years did you think you’d ever get into those colleges but your mother encouraged you to apply.

Four months before graduation, you got an amazing offer to study at UCL in London with the opportunity to be an intern side by side with one of the most famous architects at that time. What an amazing opportunity, your mother told you. Yes, it was but there was one thing holding you back: Spencer.

It started one of the biggest arguments between you two. It lasted for months leading up to graduation. He obviously didn’t want you to go since you’d be in a different country, but he didn’t want to be the only reason why you’d stay. You wanted to go because this would be an amazing opportunity for you, but you didn't want to go because you didn’t want to leave him.

It took months to come to a decision but Spencer convinced you to go. Long-distance relationships never work out for anyone, and you didn't want to put Spencer through the pain of not seeing you every day or being with you. Breaking up with him was and still is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

You’ve had a few flings over the years that never meant anything because none of them were him. It took a really long time to stop crying over him. Now, seeing him right in front of you is bringing all those fights, that love, and every conversation you’ve ever had with him back. It’s a bit overwhelming, to be honest, and you step back to ground yourself.

Marissa looks up to see her dad looking at you with the same look you’re giving him.

“You don’t look at Mommy like that,” she observes.

“Why don’t you go inside and play? I’ll be right there,” Spencer says distractedly.

Marissa looks at you and goes inside to play with her teddy bear. Spencer steps outside and closes the front door for some privacy.

“I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now.”

This isn’t a good idea. You’re going to start crying because the truth is, and you’ve tried so hard to bury it, you’re still in love with him. If you don’t get out of here quickly, the patch over your heart is going to tear and you’re going to start bleeding all over again.

“I’m sorry. I can’t be here right now. I have to go.”

You turn around and walk down the porch steps, but Spencer jumps toward you.

“Wait.” You turn to face him and he sighs in frustration. “I have to get Marissa to the doctor. How long are you in town for?”

“As long as I want. I’m in between projects right now.”

Maybe the reason why you told him this is for the false hope that you two can resume right where you left off.

“Please don’t leave. Please meet with me for coffee tomorrow morning. You remember Jack’s Cafe, right?” How could you not? It’s the place where you and Spencer had your first date and first kiss. “My number hasn’t changed if you still have it.”

“I do,” you whisper.

He never changed it in hopes that you’d call it. You got home after parting ways with him and cried yourself to sleep. Seeing him again after all these years is reverting your mind back to high school graduation. You’re not much better the next day. When you wake up, you decide you’re not going to meet Spencer and just leave. However, when you look at past messages between the two of you on your phone, he deserves this meeting. You deserve to catch up with him.

You rush into the coffee shop knowing you’re late. Spencer is sitting at the table you two used to sit in every single time you went here.

“I thought you weren't going to show,” he says when you sit across from him.

“Honestly, I almost didn’t.”

Spencer slides a coffee over to you and you catch it to prevent it from falling. Just based on the smell alone, you know he still remembers your coffee order.

“How have you been? Any interesting projects you’ve been on?”

You don’t know if the small talk is good or not. It’s to distract you from the real issue but you welcome the distraction.

“Yeah, I’ve done some work in third-world countries with nonprofit organizations. We’ve built homes for people, homeless shelters, and enclosures for animals who are suffering and endangered.”

“That’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.”

“What about you?”

“I pursued my career in the FBI. I have been a profiler for many years. I’m retired now and get to teach others before they go into the academy.”

“Retired? You’re still so young. What happened?” you ask and sip your coffee.

“I went to prison for a couple of months for a crime I didn’t do. It messed with me mentally so I decided to take a different approach. I’m still involved with the FBI just as a teacher.”

Once you two get into the groove of talking, it’s like no time has passed. You’re laughing and having a good time with him as if you didn’t break his heart all those years ago. You’re falling in love with him all over again.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Just like that, you’re back to how you were feeling before. The laughter dies off and you pick at the ends of your sweater.

“No. I haven’t had a steady relationship since--” You stop yourself from saying it out loud. He understands what you’re trying to say. He reaches over and grabs your hand. As soon as he makes contact with your skin, you quickly pull away from him. “You have a family.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You look happy.”

“Yeah, I am.”

His words tell you one thing but his tone tells you something completely different. There is a longing in his eyes that suggests he would drop everything in his life if it meant he got to be with you.

“I’m really happy for you,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“Y/N…”

“I shouldn’t have come here. You have a wife and daughter now.” You drop your voice to a whisper. “I’m too late.”

You’re already out the door before Spencer can process your words. Not only was coming to this coffee date a bad idea, but coming back to your hometown where Spencer also lives was an even worse idea. The projects waiting for your involvement will have to come a little earlier than planned.

You hate doing this to Spencer but you write a letter explaining how you feel about him and this whole situation. Once you’re done, you head to his house hoping he isn’t going to be there. You walk up the steps and notice something in the window next to the door. Spencer is sitting on the couch next to his wife and she’s comforting her. About the botched date? About you? About something else?

Damn it. Why did she have to be gorgeous?

You stick the note in the door and swiftly turn to leave. Spencer sniffles and looks up to see your long hair flowing in the wind. At first, he thought he was seeing things but then his brain caught up to the rest of him. By the time he walks out there, you’re already gone. Your note sways to the ground so he picks it up and starts reading it.

Spencer, 

I am so sorry for the way we left things all those years ago. Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and hurting you was never my intention. I love you with all my heart and wish things had ended differently between us. You have a family now that I never wanted to disturb. I kind of thought by coming back here, I’d be reminded of what’s really important. Seeing you after all these years did just that. I don’t want to hurt you now, but I’m leaving. I’ll be accepting other projects that need me, and you can continue to be with your family. I wish you the very best.

Y/N

Spencer can’t let you go this easily without letting you know how he feels. He tells his wife he’s going over to Derek’s house but ends up going to the biggest airport in the state. It’s the airport that has the most flights coming and going so you have to be here. He doesn’t know which flight you’re going to get on so he buys a ticket for one of them and hope for the best.

He rushes through the entire airport in search of you, wishing you hadn’t gotten on one of the airplanes yet. He’s sweaty and disheveled but determined to find you before you board. He runs around the corner and scans the many gates with people boarding their planes. There at the far end of the building is you. You’re in line to get on the plane.

“Y/N!” Spencer yells.

You don’t hear him and move up in the line. Spencer breaks out in a run in hopes of getting to you in time. You hand the attendant your ticket so she can check you in. She doesn’t question the dried tears on your cheeks as she does. Once finished, you grab your ticket and walk onto the bridge.

“Y/N! Wait!”

Spencer runs past everyone and tries to get onto the bridge but the two attendants posted there prevent him from going in.

“Sir, you need to wait in line like everyone else.”

“Please, I just have to talk to her.”

“Sir, I can’t let you on there without a proper ticket.”

“Y/N!!!” Spencer screams to get your attention, hoping you’re not too far away. He waits agonizingly for you to show up. He’s about to yell again when you come around the corner with tears in your eyes. “Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

“Spencer,” you gasp. You leave the bridge and take him off to the side. People stare but go about their business to give you two some privacy. “What are you doing here?”

“Please don’t leave.”

“But your family--”

“Please don’t leave. I can’t bear to watch you walk away again. I let you go once. I can’t--refuse--to let you walk away again.”

Spencer grabs your face and kisses you like he should have done all those years ago. You get lost in the way he’s making you feel so you kiss him back. It feels so good to feel his lips on yours again. He feels like home. The image of him and his wife pops up in your head, and you pull away from him with tears streaming down your face.

“What about your wife? Your daughter?”

“I don’t know but please don’t leave. I love you.”

He’s only here because of the feelings you drudged up. He was happy before you came back into his life.

“I can’t do this right now. I have to get on the plane.”

“Please don’t get on that plane,” he begs.

“Miss? Are you getting on? We’re taking the last call,” the attendant asks.

“Spencer, I have to get on the plane. They’re waiting for me.” You step away from him even though it kills you to. “You have a family now. Maybe if I never left before, things might have been different. I can’t do that to them.”

You hand your ticket to the attendant even though she allows you to go through. Spencer watches you get on the plane, and the attendant shuts and locks the door behind you. Spencer has a very important choice to make:

Does he go back to his family and pretend this never happened or follow you? Stay with what’s comfortable or follow the one woman who has always made him feel alive? Her or you?

x

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[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Family Doesn’t Give Up

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, fluff at the end

Request by @daddy-jareau​: Hello, I have a Jennifer Jareau X reader request. An unsub frames Reader for a lot of murders and reader is arrested and is sentenced to the death penalty. JJ (JJ being Rs fiance) and the team have a small amount of time to prove her innocence. (They end up proving her innocent and JJ and r have a small cute reunion, with tears and hugs, etc.)

Summary: You’re falsely accused of a crime you never did, and your fiancée along with the rest of her team work tirelessly to try and prove your innocence.

Square Filled: M.E. (2021) for @cmbingo​

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

The chains on your ankles and wrist make a sickening noise every time you take a step. It’s a noise you never thought you’d hear coming off your body. Still, you keep your head down until you get to the room where you will see the light of your life, your fiancée.

When you get to the door, the officer next to you takes off your chains so that you can freely roam around in the room without shackles. Once completed, the officer opens the door, and your frown is immediately turned upside down when you see the most beautiful person you’ve ever known: Jennifer Jareau.

Ever since you met her, you knew she would be the one for you. Just last year, you proposed to her, and celebrated with the entire team when she said yes. You were engaged for three months when the worst thing happened to you.

You take a seat across from her and pick up the phone that’s on the side of the wall. She picks up her phone, and you let out a cry when you hear her voice.

“Hey, baby,” she smiles.

“You have no idea how much I needed to hear your voice today,” you say truthfully.

“How are you doing?”

“It’s hard, I’m not going to lie, but I’ll be okay. I haven’t gotten into any fights, thank God. I’m trying to keep my head down and mind my own business, but it’s hard. Everyone here has a vendetta against FBI agents. I haven’t told anyone who I really am, so I’ve been avoiding that.”

You’re not a true FBI agent because you’re a medical examiner, but you work for the FBI doing just that for them. You travel with them, but instead of arresting people, you examine the victims since you see more than most.

“We’re doing everything we can to get you out of here.”

“I know.”

JJ passes the phone to Hotch, and she wipes the unshed tears from her eyes. You know how hard this is for her, and you’re trying to do everything you can to make this situation better.

“We’re working as fast as we can to figure out who framed you. We don’t have any suspects yet.”

“I know how this team works, Hotch. You’ll get it in no time. I believe in you.”

JJ begins crying, and you put your hand to the glass wall as if you could go through it and touch her. You hate that you can’t comfort her, and you hate seeing her cry and not being able to do anything about it. Hotch passes the phone over to her so you can comfort her with your words.

“Baby, please don’t cry. It’s going to be okay.”

“No, Y/N, it won’t,” she sniffles. “You only have ten days until--” She can’t seem to say the words. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t. I promise you. You guys will figure out who did this, and I’ll be out of here in no time.”

“What if we don’t?”

“Put your hand here.” She looks at your hand before placing her delicate one right across from yours. “I have ten days. That gives you guys ten days to figure it out. You have Spencer and Penelope who are both geniuses in their field. You have Derek and Emily who will stop at nothing to save me. You have Hotch and Rossi who will keep this team together when it seems like it’s falling apart. You got this. I have faith in you… enough for the both of us. We will have the wedding of our dreams, I promise you that.”

“Inmate Y/N. Times up.”

You only get a few minutes with the ones you love before you’re taken back to your cell.

“No, please. Just five more minutes. Please,” JJ begs.

The guard doesn’t address her as he places the chains around your wrists and ankles again. You mouth “I love you” to her before you’re taken away. JJ sobs once, and Hotch brings her into a hug.

“We’ll get her out. I promise you.”

Someone out there is living free because they framed you for the twenty murders they committed. Everyone swears you didn’t do it, and you have alibis for two of them, but some of them have evidence that ties you to the crime scene. While there are a couple of them that don’t have any evidence on you, the jury assumed you did it because of the other murders.

You have faith in your team that they will get you out of here in less than ten days because after that, you’re set to be executed for your crimes. This is something you never thought you and JJ would ever have to deal with. She tries to be brave for you, but you know this is killing her.

The one thing that has gotten you through the many months of being here is the wedding you’re planning with her. The first song you’re going to dance with her, the feeling of seeing her in a white dress for the first time, and to kiss her in front of everyone as you both claim the rest of your lives.

There is no doubt in your mind that you will get to live that, despite the small sliver of anxiety telling you that you’ll die here.

When JJ and Hotch get back from visiting you, everyone is anxious to know what happened. JJ has red eyes from crying all the way back, and Hotch has a hard look on his face.

“How did it go?” Penelope asks.

“Not good. Please, someone, give me good news,” JJ begs.

“It’s news, but I’m not sure if it’s good or not,” Spencer says. “While you two were gone, Garcia and I went over the footage at every crime scene to see if there was something we missed. After putting them side-by-side, we noticed one individual at ten of the crime scenes. He was a bystander in the crowd, but facial recognition got a hit. His name is Marcus Ramon.

“That’s him,” JJ sniffles. “That’s our unsub.”

“JJ, it might not be,” Emily breaks it to her gently. “All of these crimes are localized. The guy might live around here and happened to walk by. It could mean nothing.”

“It could also mean this guy is sleeping in his own bed when he should be rotting in a jail cell. My fiancée is in prison because of this man, and you want to tell me this isn’t our unsub? I promised her I’d do everything to get her out, and I am not giving up on hope. That’s all I have left.”

“We’re not saying that, JJ, but you need to be prepared just in case it’s not,” Derek says.

“Alright, JJ, Morgan, and Rossi will follow up on the lead. Prentiss and I will go over victimology and the other crime scenes to see if we can get someone who is connected to them. Reid and Garcia will comb through the video footage again to see if there is something else that was missed,” Hotch directs.

JJ is eager to get this show on the road, so she grabs her jacket and heads out with Derek and Rossi. Like Emily said, the man is localized, so it doesn’t take long to get to his house. His record is squeaky clean, but maybe he can give her some insight on what he saw. Maybe he saw the person who did the crimes.

JJ knocks on the door, and after two minutes of waiting, she knocks again. No one is coming to the door, so maybe Marcus isn’t home right now. She really needs to find him because you don’t have a lot of time before you’re executed.

“Are the police?” one of Marcus’ neighbors asks.

She is walking her dog past Marcus’ house and noticed the official-looking SUV parked outside his house. All three agents turn to face her, and JJ is first to approach her.

“FBI, but can we help you?”

“Are you here for Marcus? I already told the police my suspicions about him.”

“What suspicions?” Rossi asks.

“Well, it seems like whoever enters his house never leaves. He’s always bringing home girls, but I figured he just likes to casually date. I started to notice they all kind of looked similar to each other, but I chalked that up to him having a type. Just the other night, I noticed him bringing home a girl who didn’t look like she was in her right mind. Then, the next morning, he was dragging black trash bags out of his house. Now, I don’t know what was in them, but when I walked past him with my dog, she started barking like crazy. I also noticed a wretched smell coming from the bags--a smell like death. Before I could ask him about it, he was already putting them in his car and driving off. I called the police that morning.”

“Thank you for telling us this,” Derek says.

“I just hope he’s caught. I sensed nothing but evil about him. Good luck.”

The woman walks off, and if what she says is true, then he could have had a body in those trash bags. If it was recently, then the scent would still be in the area.

“Rossi, we need to bring dogs in. This is our unsub, I just know it. Please.”

“I’ll make some calls.”

Rossi managed to get the dogs here with their officers in less than twenty minutes. Derek informed Hotch about what is going on, and Hotch let Rossi handle this while he continued to comb over the evidence with Emily.

As soon as the dogs locked onto the scent, they went crazy just like how the woman’s dog did. There is a small wooded area right behind the neighborhood that the dogs lead the officers and agents to.

They come to a clearing where Marcus is with a shovel and three big trash bags. The dogs bark, startling Marcus. He turns and immediately tries to book it out of there as fast as he can. Derek takes off running and tackles the guy to the ground while JJ and Rossi take out their guns and point it at the man.

The officers approach the bags with the dogs, and as soon as they are opened, it’s confirmed that he killed and cut apart the woman he brought home that night.

Marcus is arrested on the spot and immediately taken back to Quantico to be interrogated. This could be a one-time murder that has nothing to do with the murders you were framed with, but it could be an exact match.

Once Marcus is locked in the interrogation room, Hotch and Emily come out with surprising news.

“We started checking up on Marcus’ latest victim, and she matches all twenty victims Y/N is in jail for.” JJ’s eyes light up in hope, but Emily is quick to calm her down. “That doesn’t mean he committed the other crimes. I just want you to be prepared.”

“Garcia, can you get all the footage of the crime scenes where Marcus went?” Hotch asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Put it on a flash drive for me.”

As soon as Penelope got the information he asked for, both he and JJ enter the interrogation room. Marcus looks up and smirks. He knows he will go to jail for getting caught with that one victim, but if he doesn’t talk they can’t charge him with the rest.

“Do you recognize these women?” JJ asks, laying down pictures of all twenty victims.

“Should I?”

“Yeah, you should, considering you’re the one who murdered them.”

“Where’s the proof?” he asks cockily.

Hotch opens his laptop and places the flash drive in it before pulling up the videos of the crime scenes. He only shows Marcus what’s necessary, but there is proof he is at at least ten of the crime scenes.

“That’s not proof. I was walking by and happened to notice it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. So, I had our technical analyst go back into your life, and we found something interesting. Tell me why we found evidence connecting you to all ten women whose crime scenes you visited again? Former babysitter, math teacher, even your mother’s best friend.

“We didn’t stop there. We looked at the other ten, and guess what? They’re all connected to you as well. While my team was out there investigating you, I pulled a few favors. Turns out all twenty victims contained your DNA on them. It wasn’t until you were arrested did we match that DNA to yours,” Hotch says with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, I had sex with them, but that doesn’t prove I killed them,” he shrugs.

“Cut the bullshit,” JJ snaps. “Do you really think if I brought this to a judge that they wouldn’t give you life in prison? All the evidence points you to each and every crime, and good luck trying to find a lawyer who will defend you on this.”

Marcus knows he won’t win this no matter what he does, so in exchange for his confession, he wants a lighter sentence. These victims and their families will get justice and closure, and he will get a lighter sentence. The DA offered him that deal, but Marcus’ sentence will still be ten consecutive life sentences without the chance of parole.

He will die in prison, and this is everything they need to clear your name.

The best way to pass time in prison is reading. You’re minding your own business, you’re less likely to piss someone off, and you can escape to another world inside your mind. Your cellmate is out eating lunch, but you opted to stay inside your cell for some peace and quiet.

You’ve just passed the halfway point when a guard approaches your cell.

“Y/N, pack your things.”

“What?” you frown and sit up. “What’s going on?”

“You’re being released.”

You’ve never packed our things faster than in that minute. If you’re being released, that means your team did it. They found the person responsible for committing those crimes and framing you. Once your things are gathered, they take you to a room where they give you back your clothes and the possessions you had when you were arrested.

Once you’re dressed, you check out with the officer on duty before they release you into the world. You open the door to freedom and see your entire team standing on the other side waiting for you.

There, in the front, is your beautiful fiancée with tears streaming down her face. You drop your things and run over to her, pulling her into a tight hug before kissing her passionately. The team gives you about five seconds before they all invade your space for a big group hug. You pull away from JJ with a laugh and hug every one of them.

“I knew you’d do it,” you smile with tears in your eyes. “I knew you guys would figure it out.”

“I am never letting you go again,” JJ promises.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” you sniffle and smile at your team.

“You’re family. We’d do anything for you,” Spencer says truthfully.

x

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[dontshootmespence]

Start of Something Good

Summary: Spencer hears his neighbor singing through the wall of his apartment.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 620

Warning: Mention of past cheating.

A/N: This fulfills my karaoke square for @cmbingo​. I’m using a looser definition of the word. The reader is singing into a fake mic in her own apartment and Spencer hears.

Spencer had never really gotten to know his neighbors. Most were nice people that he could wave to as they passed on the stairs, but he’d never had the desire to make friends with them. Until you. 

Ever since you’d moved in three months earlier, he’d wanted to meet you. He knew what you looked like but that was about it. The reason he wanted to meet you was because he’d heard you sing, nearly every day. You sang without fear of anyone hearing, at the top of your lungs, to whatever song came into your mind.

Most days, he had to google the words you were singing to know what song it was, but other days he could tell what you were singing and, by the tone of your voice, how you were feeling. It made him feel like he knew you though he obviously didn’t. 

One day, shortly after you’d moved in, Spencer heard you belting out Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood at the top of your lungs. Of course, someone could sing a song like that without having experienced it, but the gut-wrenched, sorrow-laden sound of your voice indicated you had. He hated whatever man made you feel that way.

In the ensuing weeks, your heartbreak waned and hope sprang in its place. Stronger by Britney Spears was a staple for a few days. It wasn’t his type of music, but hearing you feel better every day made him love it. Slowly but surely, your break-up karaoke moved more toward the female empowerment kind of music. Through you, he found quite a few artists he hadn’t heard before. Ones he’d never admit to Derek or JJ or anyone else, but still he enjoyed them and would listen to them himself while he cleaned his apartment.

Each song you sang brought out a different quality in your voice, but it wasn’t until you started singing Adele, in what he presumed was the shower by the accompanying sound of running water. Your voice was rich and powerful and captivating.

I let it fall, my heart And as it fell, you rose to claim it It was dark and I was over Until you kissed my lips and you saved me My hands, they were strong But my knees were far too weak To stand in your arms Without falling to your feet

For months, he’d heard you sing through the walls, but he wanted to get to know you so he resolved to ask you out the following morning when you both headed out for work. “Um, hi, Y/N?”

When you turned to look at him, your smile shone bright. “Hi! It’s Spencer, right?”

Nodding, he held the door open for you as you exited the apartment building. “That’s me. Uh, I know this might sound out of left field, but would you want to grab a coffee sometime? Or go out to dinner?”

“Spencer, are you asking me out on a date?” You asked coyly. 

When he blushed, you couldn’t help but accept. It was a wonderful first date full of great food and easy conversation, and before you’d even gotten back to the apartment, you’d agreed to go out again as soon as possible. Smiling, he walked into his apartment and sunk into the couch with a good book only to hear you sing again within the hour.

You never know when you're gonna meet someone And your whole wide world in a moment comes undone You're just walking around and suddenly Everything that you thought that you knew about love is gone You find out it's all been wrong

And all my scars don't seem to matter anymore 'Cause they led me here to you

[dontshootmespence]

Ruined Surprise

Summary: Spencer’s wife is keeping a secret from him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1,262

Warning: Allusions to cheating.

A/N: This fulfills my lying bingo square for @cmbingo​.

With busy careers, Spencer and his wife rarely got to go on official dates - the kind where they’d both get dressed up and go to a nice restaurant. Usually, their dates consisted of pizza on the couch while they watched the latest episode of whatever show they happened to be watching. For weeks, they’d been like ships crossing in the night, so tonight he was going to take her out to the restaurant they went on their first date. 

Nearly ready, Spencer searched through the closet for his favorite tie - a light purple that complemented the shirt he was wearing under his blazer. “Here it is,” he mumbled. As he went to grab it, it fell to the floor on top of a small container he’d never seen before. At first, he didn’t think anything of it, but then he saw some papers in it and decided to open it. 

Inside was a number of bank and credit card statements he’d never seen before. Thousands of dollars had been charged to a card he didn’t think they had - a platinum Visa that they’d gotten an offer for six months prior. Before he could get a closer look at what the charges were, he heard the door creak. “Spence? I’m home!” 

“Hey, I’m in our room!” Hurriedly, he closed the box and shoved it into the back of the closet. 

When she entered the room, he smiled. “You look beautiful.” 

“I’m not even ready yet!” She laughed. “My hair is out of control because of the wind. My makeup looks like crap. I’m in work clothes!”

“Still.”

Spencer kissed her forehead and waited for her to get changed before they went out.

----

Returning to work the following Monday, Spencer couldn’t help but think about the papers he’d found and what they meant. He’d wanted to go back and take a closer look at them, but he hadn’t had the chance to be alone again yet. “What’s on your mind, Reid?” Tara asked, pressing her hand to his shoulder. 

He jumped. “Sorry. It’s nothing.”

She gave him a look that made him laugh. “Well, it might be nothing.” As he spoke, Garcia, Rossi and Emily made their way over. “Anyway, when my tie fell, it fell on top of a box with papers in it. I’d never noticed it before, so I opened it and there were bank statements to an account I don’t know about and credit card bills to a card that I thought we’d turned down the offer for. It might be nothing, but-”

“You don’t know,” Emily said, finishing his sentence.

Spencer nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yes. What do I do?”

Everyone said to just talk to her about it because it couldn’t possibly be as bad as his brain was making it out to be. “I will. I just hope I get the answer I want.”

“We’re here for you,” Tara said solemnly. “No matter what.”

----

Spencer was determined to put his mind at ease, so that afternoon, he promised himself that he’d ask her about the papers he found. “Hey, babe,” he started, his voice a little shaky. “When I was getting changed the other day, I saw a box with some papers in the back of the closet that I don’t remember being there.”

“Oh.” She shrugged, picking up her pace as she moved about the apartment. “That’s just some of our tax papers that I haven’t gotten around to filing yet.”

Playing it cool, Spencer replied. “Oh, it looked like credit card statements.”

She stiffened. “Nope, just tax papers. No biggie.”

Taken aback by the blatant lie, Spencer let it go for the night, but the next chance he got to be alone, the following day, he went to look for the box. It was gone.

----

In the ensuing week, Spencer tried to figure out what could possibly be in the box that she wouldn’t want him to see. Every single train of thought let him to a conclusion he didn’t want to confront. “What if she’s-” He swallowed hard and looked off into the distance as he was talking to Emily. “What if she’s cheating?”

Emily looked uncomfortable at the thought. “I can’t imagine her cheating, Spence. She loves you so much. I mean, I know what it looks like, but I don’t want to believe it.”

Spencer didn’t either. The thought made him physically ill, but what else was he supposed to think. 

“Garcia could do a check on credit card or bank statements?” Emily offered.

It would give him some concrete information, but the thought of not trusting his wife enough and running a check on her felt invasive; it made him feel dirty. Spencer smashed his face into his hands. “She’s coming for lunch, so I have to make myself not look like, well, like this.”

Less than a half hour later, Spencer’s wife entered the BAU, smile wide as she went to hug him. Without thinking, he stepped back. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. “You okay?”

Spencer was never very good at hiding his true feelings; they came out in his behavior. “No, I’m not.”

Though he tried his hardest, he drew the attention of the team as he spoke. “I asked you about those papers the other day and you lied to me. They weren’t tax papers, they were bank and credit card statements. I saw them and then when I went to find the box, it was gone.” Lowering his voice, he looked at her earnestly. “Are you cheating on me?”

“NO!” She practically screamed. “Oh my god, Spence. No, I am not cheating on you and I don’t appreciate the insinuation.” Now the entire team was surrounding her. “I didn’t realize you’d seen the papers. You weren’t supposed to see them yet.”

“What are they? Y/N, tell me what’s happening because my mind is racing right now!” Spencer felt like he wanted to throw up. 

“Spence, I opened up a bank account in my name years ago so that I could save money.”

“But I know about our bank accounts. They’re all joint. Why do you have a separate one?”

Pouting, she stomped her foot. “I was saving for a surprise. Spence, I’ve been planning a trip to Ireland. For Halloween. You love Halloween and Ireland is where it originated - Samhain’s Night,” she said, looking around at Spencer’s relieved teammates. “So...I decided I wanted to surprise you one year, but I knew it was going to take a while to save the money. You know me, I like to go comfortably and in style, so it was a fair amount of money. I knew I couldn’t plan it without you wondering where the money was going.”

“Hence the separate bank account and the credit card statements. Y/N, I’m an idiot, please forgive me.”

“You ruined my surprise. Butthead.” She smacked his arm. “How could you think I would cheat?”

Spencer held his head in his hands. “I’m sorry! You were being secretive and you lied about the papers when I asked and then it moved and my mind just ran with the idea. I couldn’t think of another reason why you’d be lying. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” she replied, holding the end of the word. “Jackass.”

A chorus of laughter from the rest of the team nearly drowned Spencer’s reply out. He asked, hands clenched in prayer in front of his bashful face. “You still going to take me to Ireland?”

“Yes. Dummy. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[dontshootmespence]

The Pain of Separation

Summary: Spencer is one of the world’s best profilers. Y/N is broadcast journalist with big aspirations. A win for her means the loss of their relationship.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 707

Warning: Tame smut. Nothing graphic.

A/N: This fulfills my break up bingo square for @cmbingo​. 

With her in his arms, the troubles of his work melted away. A tough case faded to the background as he pulled her close, his thumb rubbing against the soft knit of her oversized sweater. “Thank you for dinner,” he mumbled as he sank deep into the couch. 

“No problem,” she replied softly. It had taken nearly two hours to make, but it was worth it to see the smile on his face. She’d made one of his favorites, bacon macaroni and cheese with toasted breadcrumbs and a rich, decadent peanut butter chocolate cake. “Any excuse to make that cake.”

Spencer smiled and pulled her into his lap. “I need to have more of that later.”

“Me too.”

For what felt like forever, the two sunk into sweet silence, focusing only on the steady in and out of the other’s breathing. Shocked awake by the sound of her phone ringing, Y/N answered the somewhat familiar number. “Hello?”

The chipper accent of British woman made her heart soar and sink at the same time - like being on the world’s worst rollercoaster. 

By the look on her face, Spencer could tell that she was being offered the position she’d applied for the BBC. More than anything else, she wanted to become a household name in international journalism. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice breaking a little. “I will give you a firm answer within the next 24 hours. I appreciate it. Again, thank you so much.”

When she ended the call, she stared off into the distance for a moment, her smile wavering between unbridled joy and bittersweet loss. “I got the job.”

Spencer teared up. “I knew you would.”

She laughed in disbelief. “There were more than 500 applicants.” 

“But you’re the best and most qualified.” Spencer believed it with every fiber of his body. 

Another moment passed between them. Both knew without even talking about it what could happen if she got this position. “What if I don’t want to go?” She slapped her hand to her mouth as the tears began to flow.

“You do.” A tear ran down Spencer’s cheek. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone, but this had been her dream since she was a little girl.

In frustration, she popped up from the couch and started pacing the room. “But I don’t want to lose you!”

Spencer stood up and enveloped her in his arms. “I know, love.”

With his job bringing him all over the United States and her dream opportunity bringing her all over the world, plus their home bases being separated by the Atlantic Ocean, it was nearly impossible for them to make it work. “I can’t go,” she breathed, squeezing him tight. “I can’t lose you.”

Combing his fingers through her hair, he swayed her back and forth. “I love you and I want you in my life, but you will regret not taking advantage of this offer. It’s everything you’ve worked for and you deserve it.”

As she sobbed, Spencer held her close. This was it. The words didn’t need to be spoken aloud - it was too hard. 

“I love you, Spencer.”

Kissing the top of her head, he slid his hand up the side of her neck and lifted her gaze to meet his. “You are my greatest love.”

Tears streamed down her face as she kissed him. Without a word, they knew what the other was thinking, feeling, needing in this moment before they separated - likely for good. 

Spencer grabbed her thighs and placed her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom. Like a practiced dance, he peeled her clothes away and let them drop to the floor before pinning her underneath him. They moved as they always had, rhythmic and intense, grasping onto the other in an attempt to burn every sound, every taste and every touch into their memories for eternity. 

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him impossibly close as they toppled over that edge one last time. In the bittersweet afterglow, she snuggled against him with her head over his heart. What needed to be said had already been said, and no other words could ease pain of separation.

[dontshootmespence]

No Regrets

Summary: After being infected with anthrax, Spencer’s symptoms get worse, leaving you to ponder what happens if he doesn’t make it home alive.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 812

Warning: Spoilers for the episode Amplification. Angsty with a fluffy ending.

A/N: This fulfills my bed sharing bingo square for @cmbingo​. Tried going a little different and less obvious than usual.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you step into the ambulance and sit next to Spencer while he gets checked out by the EMTs. Of course, the second he realized he’d stepped into a room with anthrax, he shut and locked the door, leaving you and Morgan to stare on in horror, but thankfully he was okay - a little chilly from just being washed off, but otherwise okay.

“Did you scratch yourself?” The EMT asks, lifting Spencer’s. That’s not good.

When Spencer goes to reply, he falters, a nonsense word slipping from his lips. And with that his eyes go wide. Aphasia. “Spence, it’s gonna be okay,” you say, shushing him as he tries to make sense of his words. He looks at you and fear stares back. Just as he’s about to reply, he goes into respiratory arrest, hands stiff and still at his sides. 

As machines beep and whirr, the technicians push you toward the corner, helpless to watch as your best friend, the man you love more than anything, clings to life. “Is he going to be okay?” You ask, knowing they can’t give you a definitive answer. You’re grasping at straws, praying to any and all deities that he make it through. 

For years you’ve hidden your feelings from him, too scared to go out on a limb and tell him how you feel. Too scared of rejection. Too scared of judgement. Too scared of failure and the subsequent deterioration of your team to do anything about it. But here he was on the table in front of you, not knowing how you felt. 

Rounding the corner into the hospital parking lot, you follow the technicians inside. “Is he going to be okay?” You ask again, running behind them and toward the emergency room. Before they can answer, they usher Spencer, still unconscious, into a room you don’t have access to. And all you can do is wait.

----

After convincing every doctor, nurse and medical professional on the floor that Spencer doesn’t have any relatives in the area to sit at his bedside, they allow you back. He’s stable now, but still unconscious, his already slender frame somehow seeming even smaller in the hospital bed.

The tears start up again even though he’s stable. Several patients at the park where the anthrax was loosed aren’t doing well, and a few have already died. No. Spencer isn’t going to die. He’s going to make it through. But what if he doesn’t? For the rest of your life, you’ll walk through it wondering what might have been had you had the balls to just tell him how you feel. 

Resting your head against the bed, you grab his hand and rub circles into his palm. “Please wake up,” you whisper, as your tears stain the crisp, sterling hospital sheets. You fall asleep for minutes at a time, hoping each time you wake up that this is all just a dream.

----

Eventually, you sit back in your chair and fill the team in on Spencer’s status before zoning out on all the anthrax research you can find. Your stomach grumbles as the nurse comes in to check on him. “You should go grab something to eat?”

You’re about to tell her it’s no big deal, but your stomach grumbles again, even louder. “Okay, can you stay here until I come back? If he wakes up, tell him I’m here?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Rushing downstairs, you grab a couple of jello cups and a chicken salad sandwich before hurrying back up. He’s still okay. When you sit down, you see him stir. “Is that jello?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh, thank god you’re okay. Spence, you had me so worried. I thought I would never get to see you again. I thought-”

“Me too,” he replies, grabbing your hand. “You know, Y/N, when I lost my words in the ambulance and I saw you, I had this overwhelming fear that I wasn’t going to wake up. Not because of the concept of death, but because I had regrets.”

“How so?” You have an idea, but you need to hear him say it, if he means what you think he means. Swallowing hard, you grasp his hand tighter. 

Spencer pushes himself up and combs his free hand through his hair. “Y/N...I like you. You’re my best friend and I’ve wondered for a long time what our relationship would look like if we were more than friends. When I...when I imagine it, I’m happy. I’m at peace, and I- I’ll stop talking. I’m rambling and probably-”

“Spence,” you wait for him to look at you. “I like you too.” Standing up, you press a tear-stained kiss to his lips and climb into the bed, cuddling in beside him. If this whole thing taught you anything, it was to live without regrets. 

[dontshootmespence]

An Impossible Task

Summary: Aaron faces one of the most difficult tasks imaginable - finding Penelope a gift for Secret Santa.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner & Penelope Garcia

Word Count: 606

Warning: Flufffffff

A/N: This fulfills my Hotch/Garcia square for @cmbingo​. 

Before him sat a mountain of fluff and more color than he could possibly imagine. This was going to be difficult - and especially uncomfortable considering he was a single man in a black suit. Probably looked a little weird to outsiders. “Can I help you?” The woman asked. Her nametag read Grace. Penelope’s middle name. How fitting. “Looking for a gift for a child?”

Aaron laughed. “Not exactly. Actually, I’ve been searching for the perfect Secret Santa gift.”

Grace seemed a bit confused, but as soon as he explained where he worked and who he was actually shopping for the Build-A-Bear employee was extremely helpful. “So, this woman is very colorful, right?”

“One of the most colorful you’ll ever meet,” he said fondly.

“You admire that about her, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Okay, this will be fun. My suggestion would be to make a ‘you’ bear and a ‘her’ bear.”

Everyone else on the team would tease him mercilessly, but it would make Penelope smile and that was mattered most. In all his years with the Bureau and as a profiler, he had developed an instinct about how to deal with unsubs. Instinctively, he knew what to do; but now that he was here in the middle of a sea of stuffed bears and brightly colored clothing, he had no idea what to do. “How about just a classic bear for the ‘me’ one?” That was on brand for him.

“Now what about Penelope?”

He felt like she should have something more than a classic bear, but he didn’t know what. “There’s so many...”

Grace laughed and went searching around the store before coming back with a few choices - a pink bear, a light brown bunny with big eyes and floppy ears and a lamb.

“Uh, the bunny. Now clothes. Do you have a suit for the ‘me’ bear?”

Happily, Grace raced across the store and brought back a pair of black pants, a white shirt, a black suit jacket and a matching tie. “She’s going to love these. Now for her bunny, what kind of outfit would she pick? Bright?”

“Definitely. What about that?”

Within ten minutes, they’d picked out the perfect, Penelope-inspired outfit, consisting of multi-colored flower dress, a little pink sweater to go over it, sparkly silver shoes and a purse to match. Less than an hour after he arrived, he had his gift in tow.

Now for the reveal.

----

A few days later at the BAU Christmas party, everyone exchanged gifts without knowing who their gift-er was at first. Instead, they made it into a game. Spencer got a reprint of one of his favorite books from Emily. Emily got a first-edition Vonnegut from Morgan. Morgan got a donation to his house flipping business from Rossi. Rossi got an aged fine wine to add to his collection from Garcia. Aaron got a tie-of-the-month club subscription from JJ and she got a pair of red leather pumps she’d admired in a store window from Spencer. Finally, it came down to Garcia’s gift from Aaron. 

Bashfully, Aaron watched as Garcia ripped open the pink sparkly wrapping paper he’d found. She gasped. “Oh my god! Sir, this the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! I’m gonna cry!”

Everyone asked what she got, so Garcia pulled them out of the box. “It’s a me bear and a boss-man bear. Sir, I’ll cherish them forever!” With the bears still in her hand, she wrapped Hotch in tight hug. “’I’ll keep them on my desk as a constant reminder that you’re the best boss in the whole world.”

“Only the best for you, Penelope. Merry Christmas.”

[dontshootmespence]

Takedown

Summary: After tracking down a vigilante mother who targets child molesters, Kate and JJ utilize their unique positions as mothers themselves to talk her down.

Pairing: Kate Callahan & Jennifer Jareau

Word Count: 649

Warning: References to child molestation. Knife as a weapon.

A/N: This fulfills my Kate/JJ bingo square for @cmbingo​. Purely platonic.

Anyone in the area outside Pitter Patter Daycare would never know the horrors that occurred within. “Kate, JJ, you’ll take the lead with Robyn,” Hotch said as they pulled up to the daycare center. 

As mothers themselves, they were best equipped to talk her off the edge, but as they headed inside, guns drawn and ready to fire, they weren’t sure whether they wanted to.

“I hate this,” Kate said as she rounded a corner. “These scumbags have it coming.”

JJ breathed a sigh of relief knowing that no judgement would find her with Kate. “I know. I can’t imagine what I would do if someone did to Henry what Robyn’s husband did to their daughter.” 

Kate huffed. “Jail. I’d be in jail. Without a doubt.”

Their only justification for not allowing Robyn to run rampant is that she would eventually devolve and likely kill an innocent. 

Rounding the second corner, Kate called for Robyn to drop the knife, but she only held it firm to the daycare worker’s throat. “Robyn, we just wanna talk,” JJ said firmly.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” The rage in her eyes could level cities to the ground.

Though Kate agreed to a degree, she found her voice. “Hey, Robyn. My name is Kate Callahan and this is Jennifer Jareau. We know where you’re coming from.”

When her head snapped toward them, Kate knew it was the wrong thing to say, but JJ had her back. “We can’t imagine going what you’ve gone through with your husband and daughter. But we are mothers.”

The knife she had at the man’s throat eased ever so slightly downward. “Boys or girls?”

“I have one boy.”

“And I have a teenage girl at home and a baby on the way.”

“Okay, so Jennifer, Kate, what would you do if someone touched your boy or your girls?”

JJ swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. “Truthfully?”

“Yes, please.”

“I don’t know what I would. I would do anything to keep my son safe.”

Robyn began to shake, the tip of the knife slipping millimeters back and forth against the man’s neck. “I did what I had to do. And I’ll sleep soundly at night knowing that man is dead.”

Kate couldn’t really blame her. If Chris ever did anything like that to Meg or their new baby, she’d at the very least think about killing him. “What about the other men you’ve killed?”

“They deserved it too.”

Couldn’t argue that. Kate continued, “What about your daughter?”

“What?”

JJ saw her soften and took the lead. “Your daughter needs her mother. She’s so confused right now. With everything that’s happened to her...if she loses you now, she’ll be lost.”

Sobbing, Robyn replied. “I’m going to jail or you shoot me. She’s already lost me. But at least she’s safe.”

“Safe from him.” Kate inched toward the right to try and get a better angle as she spoke. “She won’t be safe from every feeling and emotion that this brings up. But if she’s able to visit you, talk to you, realize how much you love her, she could process this and live the life she deserves.”

Although the knife didn’t move, her face softened again. “I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t stop -”

“People like that are master manipulators, covert. This is not on you, it’s on him. Robyn, for your daughter, put the knife down.”

Slowly but surely, the knife dropped to the floor. When the man ran, Kate clotheslined him and knocked him to the ground. “No way, dude. You’re not getting away that easily.”

JJ ran to Robyn’s side and kicked the knife away before embracing her. “I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t...”

As she sobbed, JJ and Kate glanced at one another. Deep down, both knew what they did was right, at least in the long term, but the lingering question was there.