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#criminal minds fanfiction
mindfullycriminal · 2 days
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Birthday Meal
Summary: When Spencer reminisces about the meal his grandmother made for him every year and how it’s still his favorite food, you decide to recreate the memory.
Tags: Fluff, no use of y/n or pronouns for reader
Spencer had brought it up so randomly, a wistful expression on his face as he mentioned the meal his grandmother used to make for him every year on his birthday and how it was still his favorite meal. It was an entire meal - an appetizer, main course with sides, completed with soft cookies and a kid friendly mixed drink. When he tells you he wished he’d been old enough to get the recipes before she died, you know what you have to do.
First, you contact his mother. You’ve met before and write her letters every week, so the doctors at the sanitarium have no issue with a short phone call. She remembers the meal, but not the recipe, but she gives you the number to Spencer’s uncle, and promises she won’t tell. Spencer’s uncle hands the phone to his wife, and while she has part of the recipe (the appetizer and sides), she doesn’t have it all. But she thinks a distant cousin would, so you call another relative you’ve never met, and talk to each member of that family as they reminisce about the foods they used to eat on their birthdays. (You’re amazed that every member seems to have a completely new meal, made specifically for them.) You get the drink recipe and the main dish from them, but you’re still missing the cookies.
They’re trying to think of who you could call when Spencer’s mother calls you back, saying she had found a note in her old journal about the cookies, and that you’re allowed to read all about the celebration. She says it’s already in the mail to you and just asks that you return the journal when you can. You wonder why she didn’t just copy the recipe down for you, or verbally tell you, but you thank her all the same and promise to let her know how your cooking attempts go.
Before you can start planning, the uncle you called earlier calls again and asks for your address. He says part of the special meal was that everyone had their own plate, and he found Spencer’s up in the attic. He also says his wife wrote down the exact brands used, and you thank him profusely. Within a week, you have the journal from his mother and the package from his uncle. The cousins have also added something to the package, apparently an old mixing spoon that’s been passed down from the time of the Depression. Between all of them, you’ve got the recipes and most of the specific brands used. You hide the special lavender plate and glass, wondering if this is why Spencer loves purple so much, giddy with excitement and nervous for your surprise.
It’s a strange meal altogether - not something you personally would have ever put together, but the way Spencer had talked about it, the way he’d looked as he remembered something good from his childhood wasn’t something you’d forget.
His birthday was coming up soon, and he’d asked if you two could stay in, surprised at your enthusiastic agreement. He went to work that day, after you’d woken him up with excited birthday kisses, and you had verified with Penelope that they would do something for him at lunch. You were still slightly angry that they had forgotten his 30th birthday. Really though, you just needed to make sure they wouldn’t try to take him out after hours, you wanted your surprise to work.
The recipe is somehow complicated and simplistic at the same time- truthfully it’s not many ingredients, but it’s a long process, true grandmother-style cooking — slaving over a hot stove all day. You briefly wonder if you could speed things along with a crockpot, but ultimately decide to stick to the recipe, following it to a T.
Penelope texts you when Spencer leaves the office, giving you time to dress up and finish setting the table. You have a hand made banner hung on the wall, a detail that you discovered through reading his mother’s journal, and fresh flowers that match the plate. His mother is having a good day, and the doctors have approved a short video call when Spencer gets in. You sit by the window until you see Spencer walking up the sidewalk, then rush to call his mom. When you hear the key turn in the door, you flip your screen around, and the two of you shout “Happy Birthday!” as soon as he walks in.
Spencer blushes immediately, surprised and smiling. You kiss his cheek before handing him your tablet, telling him to talk to his mom while you finish plating dinner, and warn him not to come into the kitchen, but to let you know when he’s ready. Thirty minutes later, when he calls out hesitantly to you, just now noticing the banner and the bouquet of flowers, you come out of the kitchen smiling, telling him to sit and close his eyes.
He rolls them at you, but complies, even covering them with one large hand, jumping slightly when you sneak in a kiss. You hurriedly bring out all the dishes, setting them around and finally set the special plate down in front of him. You pour the layered drink into his glass as Spencer twitches and squirms in his seat, asking if he could please look now. He laughs when you tell him to be patient, curious as to what in the world you’re doing and wondering why he’s nostalgic over the scent of whatever it is you’ve made.
When you finally let him open his eyes, he looks to see you standing nervously, hands wringing together as you wait to see his reaction. He does a double take at the spread before him, and his eyes widen into saucers when he sees his place setting.
“Happy birthday, my love” you say softly, still nervous and smiling shyly.
Spencer stands so suddenly the chair he was on falls to the ground but he doesn’t care, lunging for you to crush you against him. He’s trying to hide the tears falling from his eyes as he squeezes you close to him, whispering his thanks over and over. He’s overwhelmed with memories he thought he’d forgotten - his plate, the banner, the way the drink looked in his glass.
When he pulls back from you, you’re concerned at his glassy eyes but he doesn’t give you the chance to ask, kissing you deeply and with all the emotion he feels. When you break apart, he’s smiling the wide smile that transforms his whole face, and you’re relieved that he seems to be happy. He fixes his chair, and asks you to tell him how you did all this, thanking you again. You fuss at him first, fixing his plate exactly how the journal had been written. There had been a few photographs of one of the last celebrations, and you were pleased with your recreation. The trouble you’d gone through with talking to his family (who had continued to call you, remembering strange details in the weeks leading up to tonight), tracking down exact brands - some that could only be found online, burning yourself on the main dish - none of it matters at all when you see how Spencer is looking at you.
Spencer honestly doesn’t care how the meal tastes, although it’s somehow better than he remembered. You tell him you added in extra love, and that the wooden spoon you’d used to mix the ingredients must have contained some too. His mouth drops open at the spoon, before he tells you a family story about how a wooden spoon became so meaningful.
He continually thanks you, unsure how to express his gratitude, and he lets you take photos to send to all the family members who helped you, forcing you into his lap for the last one, gripping your waist tightly as you both smile, looking at each other.
Softly, Spencer tells you this is his new favorite birthday, and one he swears he will remember every detail of forever.
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pathologicalreid · 18 hours
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this is the job | S.R.
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You and Spencer (almost) get into a fight about the demands of your job.
who? spencer reid x retired!reader content warnings: takes place before the events of stuck between a rock and a hard place (so like circa 9x20), retired!reader is not actually retired yet, slight bickering, spoilers for season 6 finale (supply and demand), reader is female word count: 1.13k a/n: just a little shorty piece about my beloved spencer and retired!reader, im having a lot of fun writing this little vignette style series. i know it's short but the next piece will be long and very hurt/comfort heavy.
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When the phone started ringing, you thought it was Spencer’s phone, but after letting it go for a few rings, you begrudgingly realized it was your ringtone. Groaning, you turned in Spencer’s arms and grabbed your phone off of your bedside table before answering the call. “Hello?” You greeted groggily.
There was only one person who would be calling you at two in the morning. Andi Swann’s voice rang through the receiver, “We need you to come in.”
“Now?” You asked, blinking sleep out of your eyes. Next to you, Spencer started to wake up. Using his thumb, he rubbed small, soothing circles over your hip while you talked on the phone.
It was a pointless question, you already knew the answer, and that was why you were already getting out of bed. “Yes, we need to get you out as soon as possible. We might have a lead on The Program.”
You sighed, looking over at Spencer, who was now sitting up, as you nodded, “Okay, I’ll shoot you a text when I’m on my way.” You hung up the phone, setting it back down on the bedside table before you made your way to the closet to retrieve your go bag.
“You’re leaving?” Spencer asked, burning both of your retinas when he leaned over to turn on a lamp.
Hesitantly, you started grabbing clothes out of your side of the dresser. Most of your clothes would be in the apartment that the bureau would set you up in, but you could bring some of your things. Basics, mostly. “Uh, yeah,” you answered.
Peering over at you while you tugged on a pair of jeans, Spencer furrowed his brow. “You just got back,” he responded, getting out of bed himself.
“I know, but that was Andi. She says they might have a lead on The Program, so I have to go in,” You informed him, trying not to topple over while you put your socks on.
Sat on the edge of the bed, your boyfriend leaned back and watched you pack. “I believe the operative word there is ‘might’. Tell them to send someone else,” he urged, not wanting you to leave.
Shaking your head, you zipped your bag shut, “You know they don’t have anyone else.” It was true – you were the only female undercover agent that Swann had.
Spencer clenched his jaw, “I know they don’t have anyone else, that’s part of the problem. They need to hire someone else to split the burden with you, it shouldn’t be all on you.”
“This is my job, Spence. I can’t just tell them I’m not coming in. You drop everything as soon as Hotch calls,” you reminded him.
Reaching out for your hands, Spencer pulled you in, so you were standing between his legs. “Hotch would let me spend a night in my own bed before calling me back in. You got home at ten, baby. It’s been four hours and eight minutes,” he said, keeping his voice low in the dead of the night.
Giving in a little, you leaned into him, “Our jobs are different. We have different demands.” You brushed off his concern. There was at least a part of you that knew he was right. As usual, you called Spencer as soon as you had debriefed with Andi. He picked you up and brought you home.
He placed his hands gently on your waist, “You’re burning the candle at both ends. You don’t eat or sleep enough when you’re undercover, and that won’t do anyone any good.”
Stepping back, you wiped a hand down your face, “I know, but there are so many people out there who need my help. I could save those people.” You bargained with him.
Spencer shook his head, “We’ve spent a total of four nights together this calendar year. It’s April.”
You knew that. You kept track just as much as he did, but that didn’t change the fact that you had a job to do, “You knew the score when you asked me out, Spence.” Your tone was a warning. When he asked you out after you worked with the BAU to rescue Renee Matlin, you warned him that you weren’t around much.
Admittedly, you hadn’t expected to fall in love with him.
Slipping your phone into your back pocket, you inclined your head toward him, “This is the job.” This job was who you were, Spencer knew that just as well as you did.
“This isn’t the job, love. You’re acting like you don’t have an option. It’s almost as if…” his voice trailed off as if he was stopping himself from saying something he’d later regret.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “You might as well say it.” Maybe he’d give you a reason to walk out the door.
He shrugged helplessly, “Fine, I think Andi’s taking advantage of your selflessness and your need to please everyone.” He narrowed his gaze, “You were just gone for five weeks, and now you’re leaving again.”
What crushed you the most was that he was right. “I don’t want to let anyone down,” you murmured. Padding over to him, you wrapped your arms around him, holding your breath until he reciprocated. “That includes you,” you admitted, chest tight, “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”
Taking a deep breath, Spencer smoothed your hair at the back of your head, “You’re gonna go save some lives, because that’s what you do.” His voice was low and steady, “I’ll be here when you get back.”
You jumped when a phone started ringing, this time it actually was Spencer’s.
He picked it up and answered the phone, “Hey,” he greeted, face falling as the other person spoke. “I’ll be right there.”
Eyeing him hesitantly, you saw his entire demeanor change. The BAU had a case. Checking the time, you pulled back, “I should go.”
“Y/N,” he said. “I don’t want to part on bad terms,” he revealed to you as he started to get dressed himself.
Peering up at him, you offered your boyfriend a small smile, “We’re never on bad terms, angel boy.” You were just navigating a complicated relationship.
He raised his eyebrows like that statement surprised him, “but if I’m not going to see you for another month, then we can at least drive in together.”
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you had already made your decision, “If we drive in together, then I have to call you for a ride when I get back.” You settled your hands in your lap, crossing one leg over the other.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Spencer responded, leaning over you to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
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ynscrazylife · 2 days
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stealing aaron’s glasses (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)
In your defense, you were dared by Derek to do it. After back-to-back cases, everyone needed a break, but especially your workaholic of a husband. You thought it was going to be hard to steal his glasses, since he was constantly wearing them to read over paperwork. However, your opportunity came fairly quickly when he took his glasses off in favor of rubbing his face.
“You poor thing,” you say as you walk into his office, going around to give him a shoulder message.
He lets you continue, ever appreciative of the kind gesture.
“You should take a break,” you advise him, kneading your hands into his muscles.
“A few minutes,” Aaron grumbles, only able to be soft around you. He folds his arms over his desk and puts his head down.
A few minutes is plenty. Finishing the massage, you quietly pluck his glasses off the table and slip them into your pocket. “I’ll grab you a cup of coffee,” you say, beginning to leave.
“Thank you,” he says dutifully.
Walking back over to Morgan’s desk, you flash a smile at him as you show him the glasses.
“Atta girl!” He says, giving you a high five.
“We’ll see how long it’ll take for him to notice,” you say, looking at the glasses. Experimentally, you try them on. “Woah.” It’s definitely blurry and disorienting.
“Lookin’ nice, Mrs Hotchner,” Derek teases.
“I can’t believe he sees the world like this,” you say, walking around a bit and taking it all in. It’s not long before you suddenly walk straight into a desk and the glasses make you dizzy, causing you to topple over.
“Oh, shit,” Derek says.
“Y/N!”
The concerned call comes from your husband who is now striding over. You sit up and look at him guiltily. Aaron stops short at seeing his glasses on your face.
“Cute,” he says in a voice that not even you can discern if it’s genuine or not.
He gives you a hand to help you up. “Are you okay?” He asks, glancing you over.
“Yeah,” you say sheepishly. “Morgan dared me to take your glasses!”
“Tattle-tale,” Derek mutters as he raises his hands up in surrender.
Aaron fixes him with an exasperated look, then takes his glasses and puts them back on. “You sure you’re okay?” He presses, caressing the side of your face with his hand.
You nod. “Just a little dizzy,” you assure him, shrugging.
“Oh, I’ll give you something to be dizzy about,” Aaron says with a smirk, before taking you by the arm and spinning you around, then catching you and holding you close against his chest.
“Aaron!” You exclaim, laughing but also surprised that he’d do something like this in front of all his colleagues. “That was mean.”
“And coaxing me into taking a break so you could steal an object that I rely on to see isn’t?” He says.
You pout and Aaron goes so far as to squeeze your face, smushing your cheeks. He can’t help it, your silliness is infectious, and one of the many reasons why he fell in love with you.
“I think everyone deserves a break,” Aaron says to the BAU team. “Take off early for today.”
The team cheers as Aaron throws an arm over you, heading back to his office so that he can grab his stuff and you guys can leave.
“Steal my glasses again and I’ll get you back for it, sweetheart,” he mutters into your ear.
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ginkgo-phyta · 2 days
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sneak peak alert!! here's one for my dom!spencer x reader smut fic. its still a wip, so hopefully this tides y'all over some. enjoy! 18+ mdni
(pay no mind to how ooc this is teehee)
“Watch.” Spencer hisses, shoving your head back to its original position. Uncontrollably, a faint whimper rips from your throat. You wordlessly do as you’re told, training your eyes on the man on the screen in front of you fucking his partner’s throat, her eyes watering and rolling back until all you can see are the whites. “C’mon, baby. Tell me what you like.” As your perched in his lap, Spencer’s voice is sickly sweet now mumbling against your arm, nipping it lightly. His left hand is under your shirt, fingertips barely playing with your hardened and sensitive nipples. His right hand is still on your back, moving between scratching your skin and teasing the waistbands of your shorts and panties. He’s driving you crazy.
The urge to close your eyes is hard to fight off, but you try your hardest. “I…” You’re breathless, despite not having even done anything yet, “I like how he’s controlling her,” you gulp as Spencer begins to roll one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, “a-and using her.”
“That’s what you want, hmm.” It’s not a question, so much as an observation. “You want me to use you like a toy?” Spencer leans in to mouth against your ear, “Want me to fuck your throat ‘til you can’t even speak?” Where did he learn to talk like this? Who is this man?
You know it’s not rhetorical. He’s waiting for an answer as his deep breaths whip strands of your hair around. He dips his head to press kisses onto the back of your neck. Your hands dig into his plush thigh as much as is allowed by the cloth of his pants stretched tight. “Yes,” you breathe out. Even to yourself it sound desperate.
“Oh, my dirty girl.” He drawls, roughly cupping your tit and kneading it as he wishes. “You want my cock, don’t you? Just wanna shove it down your throat?”
His words have your stomach turning cartwheels, and you moan at just the thought of his dick in your mouth. You’ve never yearned for anything so intensely, craved something so intrinsically. Nodding emphatically, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth. 
This was going to be a long night, but you wouldn't want anything less.
comment, reblog, like! :D follow to stay updated on the release of the finished piece :P
link to my sub!spencer sneak peak
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snixkers · 1 day
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Science Fair
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader
Fluff, minor angst
For: Anonymous Request
Content Warnings: Missing a child's science fair, pretty much nothing, he feels bad for not going
Summary: After missing the science fair, Spencer makes it up to your daughter
Author's Note: In this house, we believe in girldad Spencer. Forgot the request said 3 kids, sorry!
Feedback is always welcome!
Requests are OPEN
He was an idiot.
An IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and 3 PhD’s could not prevent him from being the dumbest man in the world. He had missed his daughter’s first science fair.
To be fair, he was on a case across the country, but it was a promise that he had made and then subsequently broke.
When he got home, the house was quiet as everyone else slept. He crawled into bed, not having enough energy to change, and fell asleep.
The next morning, it was about the same level of silent treatment. You got your daughter to school on time before coming back to get ready for work. He made you breakfast, which you ignored in favor of a granola bar, and was ready with flowers for an apology. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t in a forgiving mood.
This wasn’t the first time he had missed something important. He had a busy job, and sometimes, it took priority. But it had never been as bad as this. There were few things more precious than a child winning something, and he hadn’t even called to celebrate.
He felt terrible, but his daughter’s reaction was the worst part. She was slowly starting to think that she wasn’t the center of his universe, and that scared him.
He had to fix this. First, he called in to work, taking a week's worth of the vacation days he had saved up. Then he packed everyone’s suitcases, taking extra care to make sure you all had what you needed. Then he waited.
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When you got home with your daughter, you were confused. As far as you were aware, no one had planned any trips. Was something wrong?
Spencer noticed the look on your face and quickly explained his plan to you before leaning down to talk to your daughter.
“How do you feel about going on vacation?”
She nodded eagerly, setting her backpack down on the floor.
“I wanna go to the moon.”
You both laughed at her request, unsure how to break the news that traveling to the moon wasn't an option.
“Anywhere on Earth?”
She nodded, holding up the stuffed elephant she had won at the science fair.
“Ice cream.”
Spencer’s smile faltered slightly, but you reached down to reassure him. He wanted to make it up to her with some grand gesture, like taking her to the beach or Disney World. But she didn’t care where they were, as long as she was with her dad.
He kissed her forehead and nodded, standing back up.
“I’m going to go unpack and then we can have ice cream.”
She smiled at him, showing off a gap in her front teeth where a tooth once stood a couple weeks ago.
“Then we can watch Frozen.”
This suggestion had him groaning internally, but you managed to guilt-trip him into sitting down for the whole movie. If you had to see Frozen five times a week, so would he.
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secretlovezz · 6 hours
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can you write anything with bau! reader x spencer, who are expecting a baby🥺 i love dad spencer sm🫶🏻
Yes omg dad!Spencer he's my favorite! Hope you like this 🫶❤️
Spencer Reid x reader
Warnings: reader a little upset (Spence makes her feel better tho), pregnancy (duh), flufffffff, short and sweet, not proofread, wordcount: 582
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You try your best to focus on the task at hand, the stack of paperwork you had been putting off all week, emails on top of emails gathering in your computer's inbox, but the kicks of the baby growing inside you keep your mind elsewhere. Her little, still growing, feet kick into your ribs harshly making any position you try to move into uncomfortable, she just can't seem to keep still today; absolutely restless.
If you were home you might whine to your husband, Spencer, maybe even cry out of frustration but being surrounded by coworkers keeps you from doing both just as much as the baby keeps you from work.
Spencer watches as you rest your left hand on top of your bump -your thumb moving gently back and forth against the fabric of your top- and he smiles at the ring adorned on your finger, but when he takes notice of the slight discomfort etched onto your face his grin quickly dissipates. Your brows are drawn together in what seems to be annoyance, your eyes are closed, and your head is tipped back as you swivel your desk chair back and forth in an attempt to calm yourself and your little one.
you can feel Spencer's eyes raking your figure -he's always been able to read you just as quickly as he can read books- and you keep your eyes shut to avoid his worried glance despite your current need for his safeguard. You don't want him to think you're dramatic, that maybe you're being annoying despite knowing he would never think something like that of you and never has.
One of your eyes cracks open to glance at him and you hope the quick movement of you swiveling in your chair will keep him from noticing your peeking, but of course, he's far too perceptive to not detect your gaze. His head cocks to the side in question, "Are you alright," he asks.
You close your eye again and bring your hands to rub at your face, the tips of your cold fingers digging into your eyes, you're starting to get a headache.
Without warning two large hands land on your shoulders, fingers poke and prod at your skin in a way that makes you sigh in relief. When you tilt your head back -eyes still closed- your husband frowns at you, "I wish you'd tell me when your not feeling good."
you almost don't respond the movement of his fingers gently gliding to your hair and scratching at your scalp makes your bottom lip quiver slightly. "I'm okay." Your voice breaks when you speak and Spencer doesn't comment on it, he doesn't want to make you actually cry by pointing it out, instead he moves only one of his also cold hands down the slope of your heated cheeks and rest it there, a gentle remind that he's here for you.
"You look pretty, do you know that," he moves his head closer to your ear to whisper to you, "beautiful."
That finally makes your eyes snap open and he's grinning at you again. Groaning at how his teasing worked to get you looking at him, you tilt your head and lay a kiss on the palm of his hand, "your child is restless," You complain to him, "she gets it from you."
"I'm sorry." His words are sickeningly genuine, they make you smile.
"Its okay baby, I still love you."
He responds to your tease, "You better."
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vintagecarat · 12 hours
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Confessions and Cuddles
Summary: You finally tell Spencer that you love him.
A/N: This might be the absolute WORST title I've ever come up with. I wrote this on a whim without any sort of plan, and I already know that I'm going to cringe every single time I see the title of this one.
Enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day <3
Note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used (reader does have long hair, though), the briefest mention of intimacy in the entire world, tooth-rotting fluff,
Word Count: 2437
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After a lifetime of nothing but trauma heaped on top of even more trauma, Spencer couldn’t be any happier than he was in this moment.
You were curled up on the couch in Spencer’s apartment. You were sitting on his lap, and he was running his hands through your hair in a way that made you purr in satisfaction. For someone who wasn’t particularly fond of physical contact, Spencer absolutely adored being close to you and touching you whenever he could.
You were in the middle of watching a terrible rom-com - it had been your idea, and Spencer was never one to disagree with you - but it was clear that neither of you were paying attention. You only wanted to be close to one another, and if you had to suffer through a terrible movie to do it, then so be it. Spencer was often gone for so long when he was away on a case that you often ended up spending every single  moment clinging to each other when he was home.
You truly couldn’t get enough of him, and he truly couldn’t get enough of you.
Then, the peaceful silence was broken when you muttered something that made Spencer pause. His fingers stopped combing through your hair and came to rest on the nape of your neck as he looked down at you. His mouth was hanging open slightly, and there was a subtle blush creeping up his neck.
“What did you say…?”
At Spencer’s softly spoken words, you turned your head to look at him. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his shocked expression, even though your heart was pounding and a blush that matched his own began painting your cheeks.
“I…” your expression smoothed into a soft, albeit nervous, smile, “I said, I love you.”
You and Spencer had been dating for a little over a year, and your lives were beyond perfect. You’d both gone through so much in life, but everything felt absolutely worth it now that you had each other. You’d always imagined that there would be some grand performance when it finally came time to say those three words to him, but instead, you’d said them without even realising it.
You’d absolutely meant it, though. 
Spencer continued staring at you for a moment longer. He couldn’t find his voice at all, and his mouth was still hanging open. Then, his fingers began moving again, though instead of running them through the strands of your hair, he started to slowly braid them. Spencer’s hands were shaking.
“I love you, too,” Spencer muttered the words, almost as if he was worried that his voice would crack if he spoke them any louder, “So much.”
Your heart filled with so much warmth as he said those words back to you. There had never been any doubt in your mind that he loved you just as much as you loved him, but hearing the verbal confirmation meant more to you than anything.
A shiver ran down your spine at the touch of his gentle fingers against your scalp, and a smile flitted across your lips as he began braiding your hair. The last time he’d done that was after you’d been in a bad car accident and broken your arm. You supposed that the weeks after your accident were the moments you truly realised that you loved Spencer, but the words had been stuck to the tip of your tongue ever since.
“You’re shaking,” you’d already closed your eyes at this point, and you’d settled back into Spencer’s lap as if you hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell in your relationship, “You’re doing that thing where you scrunch your nose up when you’re trying not to cry, aren’t you?”
You didn’t even need to look at him to know exactly what was going on with his expression. You knew Spencer like the back of your hand, and you’d been with him for long enough to have picked up on every single one of his quirks and mannerisms. Just as he had for you. 
Spencer snorted a little at that, “I didn’t think I looked so obvious.”
“You do to me,” you hummed in response, letting out the softest sigh in the world. Spencer always made you feel so comfortable and safe.
You could easily fall asleep to the feeling of Spencer playing with and braiding your hair - to be honest, you’d definitely done that in the past. You’d always been so proud of your hair, and from the way Spencer seemed to find any sort of excuse to play with it, he loved it, too.
It felt as though the weight had been lifted from your shoulders now that the words were out in the open and you didn’t have anything to hide anymore. You and Spencer were inseparable, but you’d definitely wondered once or twice if he’d end up leaving because you’d taken too long to tell him that you loved him. It was a ridiculously stupid thought, of course. You knew that Spencer would rather die than leave you. 
“I don’t understand how you’re better at braiding my hair than I am,” you softly giggled. When you’d first started dating, Spencer didn’t seem at all like the type to do other people’s hair for them, so it came as a complete surprise when he seemed more natural at it than you ever did.
One thing Spencer had never told you was that he’d spent hours watching you intently as you sat in front of the mirror and did your hair. He’d been determined to copy it perfectly to surprise you. It ended up being that he was much better at it, though.
“I’m better than you at most things, sweetheart,” Spencer chuckled, “Braiding just happens to be one of them.”
“Oh. Ouch,” you faked a wince at his comment, and you playfully swatted him. It was true, though, Spencer was better than you at most things. It was hard not to be when he was a literal genius, “I try my best. It’s hard to keep up when you’ve got an IQ as big as your ego.”
You loved to tease Spencer every now and then over his IQ, even though his intelligence was definitely one of his most attractive traits. Spencer had these moments where he’d go full scientific mode and start spouting the most random facts he could think of, and every single time, you couldn’t stop staring at him in pure adoration. 
“I tell you I love you, and then you insult me,” you scoffed, “Despicable.” 
Spencer laughed at your playful swat, and he stopped braiding for a moment to catch your wrist and squeeze it, “Don’t complain too much, sweetheart. I’ve seen the way you look at me when I go into scientific mode,” he let go of your wrist and moved back to your hair, “You can’t hide how much you love it when I start spouting off random facts that go completely over your head.”
You shrugged, “What can I say? You look hot when you go into scientific mode,” you didn’t understand half of the things he told you, but you always listened to intently whenever he started rambling since his voice was your favourite things in the world, “I might not understand anything you’re saying, but that doesn’t mean I’m not listening very intently.”
“You don’t care about anything I’m saying, do you? You just like listening to my voice,” Spencer finished braiding your hair, and he wrapped his arms around your waist as he pulled you tightly against him so your back was flush against his chest, “I could be reading instructions for how to wash a dish and you’d still listen to every word.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you leaned your head back a little so you were almost resting against his shoulder, and you looked up at him, “I could listen to you talk for hours and I’d never get bored. You could probably read me the phone book and I’d listen to every single word.”
To be honest, it had mainly been Spencer’s voice that had attracted you to him in the first place. You’d met at the bookstore near where Spencer lived after you both tried to grab the same copy of your favourite book. Once you started talking about it, you found yourself falling head over heels for him. 
Your lips curled into a little smirk, and you placed your hand gently on his thigh as you squeezed it, “You don’t even realise how badly you turn me on when you whisper in my ear, do you?”
“Hm, I had a hunch,” his own smirk appeared on his lips as he spoke, though his eyebrow cocked slightly as you squeezed his thigh, “Don’t be sneaky, sweetheart. I’m not sure I can think of anything besides you right now, so I may start doing or saying something that I probably shouldn’t.”
You gasped in mock offence, “I’m not sneaky, Spence. I’m about as subtle as a brick wall,” your little smirk grew even wider as you squeezed his thigh again and you felt him tense up ever-so-slightly, “Especially when it comes to you.”
A low groan, a noise that Spencer didn’t make very often, escaped his lips before he could stop it, and he couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m warning you, sweetheart,” he said, his tone half teasing and half serious, “If you keep that up, I might do something I shouldn’t.”
You scoffed out a laugh at that, but you raised your hands in a mock surrender, “Fine. I’ll stop,” you took your hand away from his thigh, instead choosing to take his hand and interlace your fingers. You stuck your tongue out at him, “Spoilsport.”
For a long moment, the two of you sat silently as you attempted to watch the rest of the movie, even though you’d barely been watching it from the beginning. Your earlier teasing attempts had all but been forgotten.
That was, until, you sneakily slipped your hand behind you, and you squeezed his thigh once more, making sure to go as close to touching through his jeans as you could without actually doing it.
Spencer’s body tensed. You both knew that he never had much restraint when it came to you. Spencer placed his free hand over your hand before you could move it from his thigh, “Please,” he whispered softly, his breath catching in his throat as he met your eyes, “Don’t keep doing that.”
“Sorry,” you shrugged a little sheepishly, “Couldn’t help myself. I’ll stop,” you meant it this time, too. Once Spencer started talking to you in that tone of voice and looking at you with that look in his eyes, you knew that you needed to stop teasing him. 
If there was one thing about your relationship with Spencer, it was that you always knew each other’s boundaries and never went over them.
Your teasing smirk dropped into a warm smile, and you snuggled back against Spencer’s chest with your head resting on his shoulder. You kept a tight hold of his hand, and your heart fluttered as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You and Spencer held hands so much that you might as well have been superglued together.
"You're just so fun to tease."
Spencer grumbled, but his tone was teasing, “I swear to God. You’re going to be the death of me,” he squeezed your waist, “You know that, right?”
“Yep.”
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you again, and the only sound you could hear was Spencer’s heartbeat softly in your ear as you rested against his chest. 
“I can hear your heart beating,” Spencer said, as if he’d been reading your thoughts, “It’s quite loud.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you grinned at him, “I’ll try and stop my heart from beating. Just for you.”
Spencer nodded, as if that was the answer he wanted to hear, and he smiled, “You know, experiments have demonstrated that conscious control of the breathing can actually cause arbitrary changes in heart rhythm,” he began to ramble, “It’s even possible to cause cardiac arrest by contracting the abdominal muscles.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as he rambled on and on about causing your own heart to stop. You were mainly focused on his lips as he talked with such enthusiasm.
Once Spencer realised that you weren’t saying anything, he looked down at you with a sheepish grin, “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“Oh yeah, you’re definitely rambling,” you giggled, gently tracing your finger over his lips. He had softer lips than you, which you were very jealous about, “You’re just… You’re so kissable when you’re rambling.”
Spencer laughed at that, and he pressed his lips together for a moment to stop himself from smiling like an absolute idiot, which was something he did a lot around you, “You’d kiss me any time. Dont lie.”
“I definitely would,” you teased, “Believe me. If I knew that I wouldn’t run out of breath, I don’t think I’d ever stop kissing you.”
“Well, sweetheart, I can’t say I’d be too mad about that,” Spencer put a finger under your chin, tilting your  head up so that he could look into your eyes, “I’m pretty sure there are worse ways to die than kissing the love of your life.”
That sentence made you giddy, “I’m the love of your life now, huh?” you smiled at him, your eyes crinkling and your nose scrunching as you did so in the way that proved you were truly happy, “You’ve always got to one up me, haven’t you?”
“Absolutely, my love,” Spencer stroked your hair with his free hand, giving the braid he’d created for you a tug, “I told you. I’m better than you at most things. I think I’ll add confessing my love for you to that list, too.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
You scowled at him, but that expression immediately melted away when Spencer kissed you. Your kisses definitely had the tendency to be fiery and passionate when the time came for it, but most of the time, they were gentle and tender. A perfect representation of your relationship. 
After a moment, you and Spencer broke the kiss, and you continued smiling at each other like a pair of teenagers in love. To anyone else, it probably would’ve been sickening.
“I love you so much, Spence.”
“I love you too,” Spencer whispered, and he pressed his lips against your forehead before smirking, “So, what’s all this about you getting turned on when I whisper in your ear, hm?”
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I’ll never hurt you (Spencer Reid x Reader)
spencer reid can’t help but get involved when a guy moves into your apartment and he hears the fighting between you two escalate. he never meant for it to go farther.
warnings: relationship abuse. nudity. no smut. harsh language. angst
pookie wookie bear // draft from a few months ago
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You moved in early September. Spencer met you the first week you came in, which you were in the process of unloading large brown boxes and small beige baskets of things into your apartment. Your first impressions of him were that he stuttered, rambled and, of course, was absolutely gorgeous.
He helped you unpack, after asking if it was alright, and the two of you had a friendly relationship going forward.
He took special note of your schedule. You'd leave around eight in the morning in a sweater and scarf with your hair up, a leather bag of textbooks, notebooks and a shiny grey laptop on your shoulder, and come home around eight p.m., makeup slightly worn and hair much softer and less organized than the morning, now in the same jacket as when you left, but a work uniform underneath, possibly for a barista or waitress. Your apron would be slung over your shoulder and your bag would have the scarf and sweater hanging partially out the side, and you'd always have this tired, sunken look in your eyes, but it was always replaced by bright cheeks and a smile in the morning.
You noticed his pattern, too. Always leaving in a nice jacket or button-down, sometimes to disappear for days. You always wondered where he went, but your interactions were bound to greetings and curtesies and not much else, mostly due to your nervousness around each other.
In November, a man started to come around every so often. Spencer had picked up from your chipper, however strained, greetings of him that his name was Ben.
By December, he was around every day. Spencer saw through the peephole boxes being carried to the apartment once again.
He decided not to think of it much. You were just a pretty girl who lived on his floor, meant to be with big, meaty guys like Ben. He couldn't help but wonder if he was smart enough for you, intense enough for you.
It wasn't until January that the yelling began. There would be nights where he could hear masculine yelling through the walls, these growling barks of words he couldn't always make out. He'd heard a few things, like, "Fuckin' bitch!" and "Stupid cunt!" Once, he even heard something along the lines of, "If you care so much what the neighbor thinks, why don't you go over there and fuck him!"
The quips were enough to make his blood sear red-hot, his eyes twitch and head ache.
One day, he hadn't heard your light, quick footsteps down the stairs, and he knew Ben had left had the night before because he had slammed the door behind him and said "Slut" just as he passed Spencer's door and pounded down the stairs. Spencer didn't sleep that night, waiting for Ben to return, but he never did. He wasn't sure what his plan was when he did return, but he knew something had to be done.
He decided to come to your door in the morning, alarmed that you were still in around 9:30 a.m. on a Thursday.
He knocked three times, then stood with his hands in his pockets. He heard your feet scamper to the door, then stop just in front.
"Spencer?" you asked, he assumed you were looking through the peephole. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, can I just," he paused, "Can I come in a second?"
"Uhm," you exhaled, "Now's not a good time."
"I just," he paused again, "I wanted to talk to you."
"What about?" you asked.
He became so alarmed by this answer, mind racing with every possible scene that could be behind the door. Maybe Ben had returned, he thought, maybe he was forcing you to stay home. Maybe you were crying, maybe he had hurt you. Maybe he had a gun on you at this very moment.
In a moment of complete irresponsibility and thoughtlessness, he touched the doorknob. When it gave way, he pushed himself through the door.
Ben was nowhere to be found, but you were, standing in front of him, eyes dry, but puffy from obvious crying, yellow makeup caked below your right eye, purple showing from underneath.
It was worse than he imagined, the feeling of seeing you in such a way.
"Oh, (Y/N)," he whispered.
When he looked at you with such sympathy, you broken entirely. You ran into his chest, shoulders shaking with sobs. "I couldn't," you breathe, "I couldn't cover the," again, "I can't go to class, I had to call out of work, I," you whispered, "I don't know what to do."
He just held you there, swaying back and forth, rubbing your hair. This was the first time he had seen it down.
"Look at me," he whispered.
You peered up at him with those red, glistening eyes, face swollen, hair stuck to the tears on your cheeks.
"You've gotta kick him out," he whispered, "You have to."
"I can't- he's- he's a cop," your voice wavered, "I'm a- I'm a fucking barista."
"I'm a federal agent," he stated.
You breathed out. "He'll," you pause, then whisper in a deadly flat voice, "He'll kill me if I make him leave."
He breathes, then whispers, staring deep into your eyes, hands on each side of your face. "I'll kill him if he touches you ever again."
He pulled you into his chest again, once again assuming the rocking motion from before, rubbing your back with one hand and stroking your hair with another.
This was easily ten minutes, possibly more. Then, the door handle jiggled. "Let me in, (Y/N)," Ben spoke, "I'm sorry, please let me talk to you."
Spencer whispered into your ear, "Go stand by the kitchen," and you did so.
Spencer then unlocked the door, then stepped as far as possible from the door, a few paces from you. He whispered to you, his head over his shoulder.
"It's open," he whispered.
"It's open!" you yelled, voice shaky.
When Ben walked in, his eyes went first to Spencer, then to you.
"What the fuck," he breathed, "You fucking bitch, you're cheating on me with this fucking asshole?"
"I'm not cheating on you," you spoke in a mousy tone.
"Oh, yeah? So you didn't fuck this guy?" he asked, stepping to get a better look at you.
"No," you spoke, not looking at him.
"Don't lie to me, bitch, fucking look at me," he stepped towards you.
Then, Spencer pulled a handgun from his pocket and pointed it at him.
"Don't fucking go near her."
"Oh my God, you're gonna fucking shoot me?" he laughed. "I'm a cop."
"I'm a federal agent, dick," Spencer glared intensely at Ben, your eyes stuck to Spencer.
"Oh, fuck, you're one of those BAU assholes?" he asked with a smirk on your face, "Well aren't you just a fuckin' angel?" He turned you, then says, "Have fun with this pussy, you're not worth the fucking energy." With that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Spencer ran to the door, locked it again, then returned to you.
"This is just temporary," he whispered, "I'm gonna get him put in jail for a long time."
You stared at him for a long time, then in a hushed tone said, "I'm gonna shower," you paused, then, quieter, said, "Do you want to come with me?"
He stares at you for a moment, blinking, then asks, "Do you want that?"
"Yes," is all you say, then grab his hand slowly, interlocking your fingers, pulling him to your bathroom. When you get there, you take off your tank-top first, which you have nothing underneath. Then you pull down your jeans, then your underwear. Spencer watching this entire process, not moving a muscle but his eyes. They wander across your body, then settle on your hips, which have a faded yellow bruise on the side. He winces, but then is washed by the sight of your bare skin. You're exactly as he imagined: soft, firm, perfectly balanced.
He then began to unbutton his skirt, peeling it over his shoulders. He was tall, slender, sculpted, but gentle looking so much more beautiful than Ben. His belt jingled as he unbuckled his pants, then pulled them down with his underwear, too, leaving both of you bare.
He closed the proximity of your bodies to kiss you, his hands around your head. He then pulled away to rest his forehead on yours and rub his thumbs on your cheeks.
You stepped into the shower and he followed.
He didn't try to touch you explicitly. He didn't press you against the shower wall, didn't choke you or whisper sick things about you into your ear. He didn't press himself into you or turn you around to fuck you from behind.
Instead, he took a handful of shampoo and began to wash your hair.
He first pushed your head back so it was full emerged in the water pressed his fingers along your scalp, allowing the water to seep into all the strands of hair. Then, he lathered shampoo in his hands and began to wash your hair. He turned you around so you were facing away from him, but he didn't touch you anywhere but your head. You instinctively tilted your head back to lean slightly towards his chest, eyes closed. You could hear his breath hitch. When he was done, he turned you around again, then tilted your head under the water again. When your hair was fully rinsed, you brought your head up so your eyes met his. You then kissed him again. Your hands slowly, shaking, trailed down his chest to his stomach. You trailed your fingertips along his waist, then pulled him towards you by his hips. He lifted his hands to your face again.
He looked deep into your eyes with his dark brown ones and whispered, “I’ll never hurt you.”
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sundrop-writes · 4 hours
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Careful - Chapter Four
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Four: Last Hope
It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.
Summary:
The entire axis of your world is shifting.
Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.
Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.
Word Count: 8,800
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below.
Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.
A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!
...
Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you. 
It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time. 
You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life. 
This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night. 
You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you. 
He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him. 
So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.) 
You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s. 
You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on. 
You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past. 
(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.) 
You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’. 
You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy. 
“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters. 
“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said. 
(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.) 
“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.” 
Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you. 
“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked. 
You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’. 
Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at. 
“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.” 
That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture. 
“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head. 
He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates. 
He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now. 
“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.” 
In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth. 
“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye. 
Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief. 
“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.” 
“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about. 
“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.” 
“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids. 
“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-” 
“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?” 
“One nightmare! It was only one!” 
The subject of children was forgotten, then. 
Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation. 
Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?
… 
Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment. 
After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty. 
But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to. 
You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done. 
Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles. 
Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle. 
Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son. 
His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast. 
Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV. 
“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it. 
“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him. 
Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right. 
He crouched down to the boy’s level. 
“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps. 
He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh. 
Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission. 
You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one. 
“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer. 
“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.” 
Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up. 
“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked. 
“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”
Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this. 
Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction. 
“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return. 
(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.) 
Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind. 
“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly. 
He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time. 
“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness. 
“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this. 
“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied. 
‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’ 
The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench. 
He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from. 
Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face. 
“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.” 
Spencer smiled at this. 
Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player. 
This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer. 
“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.” 
“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”
Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments. 
But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears. 
Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him. 
The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life. 
Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother. 
There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun. 
He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture. 
And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile. 
Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker. 
He liked Star Wars. 
“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out. 
He knew that he was crying very blatantly now. 
His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.  
Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room. 
“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?” 
“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.” 
You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed. 
“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door. 
That gutted him even more. Spence. 
Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost. 
“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears. 
Your throat tightened up. 
This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible. 
But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with. 
He cared so much. 
This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son. 
And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child. 
“Spencer, please-” 
Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself. 
“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear. 
There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him. 
Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective. 
“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television. 
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with. 
You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught. 
“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation. 
You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again. 
It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case. 
“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone. 
“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?” 
That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized. 
“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant. 
“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?” 
The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow- 
The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him. 
“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.” 
“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.” 
Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him. 
“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-” 
“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened. 
Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself. 
“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.” 
Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ. 
“Reid, hey.” 
She sounded worried. 
Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone. 
Before he could ask, she spoke up again. 
“We… were just wondering if we should call you.” 
“What’s wrong?” He asked. 
“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once. 
Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself. 
“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.” 
“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.” 
“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.” 
“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked. 
“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand. 
“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud. 
“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.” 
“Fire away.” Prentiss replied. 
“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her. 
“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell. 
“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant. 
“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.” 
“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.” 
“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud. 
“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized. 
“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.” 
“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?” 
“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.” 
“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.” 
Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’” 
“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?” 
“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?” 
He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child. 
Just then, Emily came back into the room. 
“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced. 
“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered. 
“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.” 
“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call. 
Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom. 
It truly hit him, then. 
This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man. 
A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. 
He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV. 
“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?” 
Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness. 
“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation. 
(So this was a habit of his?) 
“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him. 
Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?” 
“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked. 
“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied. 
He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him. 
But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together. 
Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner. 
“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up. 
“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to. 
He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch. 
Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said. 
“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.” 
“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-” 
“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.” 
“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV. 
“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-” 
“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken. 
The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day. 
Spencer took a breath, trying to focus. 
“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-” 
“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife. 
Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm. 
“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?” 
“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds. 
You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot. 
You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed. 
There it was. 
The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him. 
It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely. 
You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself. 
If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you. 
When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot. 
You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date. 
How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him? 
“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?” 
You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension. 
Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant. 
When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere. 
… 
Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family. 
With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice. 
Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut. 
It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger. 
Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be. 
You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it. 
You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door. 
You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself. 
“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?” 
You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly. 
“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice. 
“Here, go with your-” 
You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’. 
“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.” 
“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,” 
He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now. 
You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step. 
It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again. 
You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table. 
“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice. 
“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself. 
You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter. 
Your insides quaked when you saw what it was. 
Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well. 
“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for. 
“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him. 
“I did!” He said proudly, nodding. 
“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him. 
“Okay!” He cheered brightly. 
He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there. 
(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.) 
“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope. 
“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.” 
You stared down at the items in horror. 
It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window. 
One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker. 
‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’  
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed. 
He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug. 
Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea. 
You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you. 
“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.” 
He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face. 
“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say. 
“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?” 
It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you. 
You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now. 
If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you. 
Oh, how things change. 
Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug. 
But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station. 
You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number. 
“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?” 
“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.” 
“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.” 
“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?” 
“Hold on.” 
There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch. 
“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.” 
“What is it?” Spencer prodded. 
“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.” 
Spencer didn’t like where this was going. 
“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him. 
“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-” 
“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed. 
“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly. 
“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.” 
Then, something else occurred to Spencer. 
“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.” 
He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted. 
This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer. 
Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win. 
“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.” 
Spencer hated that it was their only choice. 
“Okay.”
...
A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the fourth part! I would really like to see 30 Comments - in the form of replies, comments on reblogs, and asks (anonymous or not), and 40 Reblogs before I post the next part.
I am really glad to know that everyone is enjoying this series, and I would love to hear more of what you think about it. In the next chapter, we answer the big question - what did Spencer do? What happened between Spencer and the reader that caused them to break up? So you guys can look forward to that!
Also, please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 10 hours
Note
slight angst with happy ending for aaron hotchner
he misunderstands your body language or something (maybe you grew a bit distant, more time on phone etc) and he thinks you cheat cuz he’s travelling for work and he’s had this small insecurity for a while
but obviously you’re not (leave it to you what reader was doing and if she reveals) cheating and comfort ensues
(love me some jealous hotch)
fem!plus size reader, wc: 566.
cw: angst, and fears of cheating :(
a/n: i know i need to let the angst breathe, but being the angst lover that i am, i almost jumped at this LMAO.
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Aaron wouldn’t blame you for cheating on him.
He was never home, he had a hard time answering your calls, and he barely texted you back; especially if he was away on a case. 
He hated that he even thought like this, but many nights he’d often catch you on your phone, texting away like he wasn’t lying right next to you. Aaron hated being nosy, but he’d sometimes find himself leaning over – just a bit – and playing it off as kissing you on cheek and bidding you goodnight. 
He’d understand if you were using the device to cool down or relax, but it was an everyday affair. When you were cooking? You’re texting with one hand. When you’re eating? As soon as the damn thing vibrates your eyes flicker over to where Aaron was sitting across from you quickly before looking back down and flipping the damn thing over.
Who the hell was holding your attention like this? 
Aaron didn’t want to offend you by accusing you of cheating on him, because he loves you, but if he didn’t at least know he would go crazy.
“Honey?” He had called out to you one night, his voice soft.
“Hm?” You hummed, your eyes still attached to your screen that illuminated the soft contours of your face. God, you were breathtaking.
“I -” For the first time since the beginning of your relationship, Aaron had no idea how to talk to you. “I don’t mean to intrude but… what are you doing?”
Your eyebrows furrow and you look up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that for the past week your phone has been glued to your hand.”
You look almost surprised at his confrontation, and that made his stomach drop. Is it really as bad as he thought it was? He felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.
“Oh.” You were almost conflicted. “I-”
“Is there someone else?” Aaron never interrupted you, but he had to know, he had to get the hard part out of the way.
Your jaw dropped and your brows dipped low in disbelief, “Wha - what? No!” You scrambled to shove your device in his hand. “There’s no one Aaron, look.” Your head gestured down to your phone and when he did, he felt like an idiot.
There at the top was labeled ‘Penny <3’
“You know… your birthday is coming up soon, and me and Penelope were just trying to plan something nice for you. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t ask me about it because you know I can’t lie to you, and I didn’t want all of Penelope’s hard work to go to waste.”
Oh yeah, he was definitely really fucking embarrassed, but he was also overcome with the overwhelming feeling of shame.
How could he have assumed the worst out of you? All this time you were distant was because you loved him so much to the point where you couldn't keep anything from him.
“Oh, honey I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with remorse, and you only grabbed his large hand and kissed the back of it in response. You felt a cheeky smile tugging on your face.
“I’ll forgive you on one condition.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” You shivered at the satisfying sound.
“You have to act surprised when you walk into the room okay?”
He chuckles but nods, “I promise.”
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 days
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I hate myself for this but... sigh, I can't help it. At least this one is soft and not angsty
Aaron Hitch x Dad Male Reader
Hotch has been having trouble moving on from Haley (maybe divorce?) Despite it being 2 years. Garcia decides to talk him into going on a few blind dates, one of which is a friend of hers from an online RPG. Hotch is reluctant but agrees, trusting Garcia with her taste in friends.
When Hotch arrives at the small restaurant and stares hes there for a reservation that Garcia set up, he's lead to Reader already waiting at a table. Garvia failed to mention that Hotch's blind date was a man and so he's caught off guard. Through the date, it's obvious Hotch and Reader are awkward until Hotch mentions his son. As it turns out, Reader is a single dad as well after his fiance walked out
They bond over being parents and agree to meet up again. So they do, multiple times. They even set up little get togethers between the kids
Hiya, sorry this has take me so long (actually I'm sorry all of my requests are taking me so long aha) but I hope you enjoy it, it was a really cute request! :)
Description: What is says on the tin, really aha
You watch a man approach you and you know its him. Garcia knows your taste in men well and you have no doubt she would have ensured that the date she picked out for you would be perfect.
He approached you awkwardly, seeing that you were the only individual who was on their own. "Are you here for a blind date?" He asked, cheeks tinting pink.
"Yeah, I'm (Y/N), are you Aaron?"
The man, Aaron, nods. He's awkward, which makes you awkward. He sits down, "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting a-"
"Man?"
"Yeah,"
"I see... We, er, we don't have to do this, if you don't want to-" You rush out, already standing up.
"No, no, it's okay," He said, giving a small smile, sitting in the chair opposite you. "So, how do you know Garcia?"
"We play the same RPG, but we started talking on the forums and then eventually met up," You nod.
"RPG?" Aaron tilted his head, "That's role playing game, isn't it?"
You nod, grinning, "Yeah." Man, he was just too cute.
He nods as well, with a small smile.
Another minute passed in awkward silence. "So... Garcia mentioned you had a son?" You asked.
Aaron nods, a small smile already painting his face, "Yeah, Jack. He's just turned six."
"Oh, wow, my son's five," You nodded.
"You have a son?" Aaron asked, eyes widening slightly.
"Yeah, Ethan," You grinned. "His favourite thing at the minute is cars,"
"Jack's the same," Aaron said with a small laugh, "Cars and trains,"
"See, Ethan's not hopped on the train trend just yet," You laugh, "He's definitely on the dinosaur trend though,"
"Jack's not gone through that phase just yet,"
"Oh, cars and dinosaurs are all Ethan talks about," You smile.
After that, the rest of the meeting (*cough* date *cough*) went rather well, the initial awkwardness has dissolved and the pair of you stayed out late, talking about anything and everything. He now knew that Ethan's mother had left when he was still a baby, and you knew about the nasty divorce with his ex-wife Haley. You had even arranged a second meeting (read: 'date - sort of') where Jack and Ethan could meet each other the following week.
It was next week before you knew it. Ethan was so excited, practically bouncing off the walls.
"Are they here yet?!" Ethan asked, running in again.
"Bud, I've told you, I'll let you know when they're here-" You said with a small laugh, getting cut off by the doorbell ringing. "And it looks like they're now here,"
"Wooo!" Ethan cheered. "I can't wait to meet them,"
Ethan babbled as he followed you to the front door. "I'm sure Jack's just as excited to meet you," You grin. You really hoped the pair of them got along, you thought as you opened the front door.
"Hi," You breathed, seeing Aaron (that polo shirt on him? Damn).
"Hi," He replied. You grinned slightly, seeing the tips of his ears go pink.
"Hi! I'm Ethan!"
"I'm Jack!" Jack exclaims, equally excited.
"You wanna go play? My dad got me some new cars!"
"I love cars!" You smile as Ethan grabs Jack's hand and they both run off to go and play.
You turn to Aaron, "That looked like it went well,"
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street-smarts00 · 5 hours
Text
Clingy
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)
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WC: 3.5k (ish)
Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 
Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort
A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.
You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 
After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 
At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.
Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 
It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 
Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 
You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 
When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 
Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 
He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 
You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 
He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 
“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 
He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 
“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”
“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.
“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 
“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 
“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 
His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.
“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 
“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 
“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 
“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 
“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 
Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 
Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 
Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 
“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 
“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 
Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.
“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 
Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 
He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 
The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 
Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 
He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 
Something about you.
His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 
~
Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 
The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  
Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 
“Hey,” you greeted. 
“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 
“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 
“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.
He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 
“Huh?” 
“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 
“Oh.” 
“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 
You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 
“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 
The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 
You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 
He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 
He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 
“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 
“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 
“Do you wanna lie down?” 
You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 
“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 
His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 
“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 
You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 
You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 
“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 
You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 
He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 
So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 
He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 
He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 
“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 
“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 
You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 
This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 
“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 
He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“
“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 
You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 
“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 
He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  
“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 
You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 
“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 
“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 
His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 
“Yes you were.” 
“Y/N please,” he begged. 
“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 
He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 
“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 
“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 
“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 
You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 
“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 
He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
 Here we go. Flood gates. 
“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 
“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 
“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 
The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 
“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”
He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 
Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 
He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 
When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 
Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 
The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”
“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 
“That too,” he chuckles. 
After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 
“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 
Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.
“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 
He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”
His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 
There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag Requests: @nomajdetective
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thewulf · 2 days
Note
Hiii🌸🌸 well this is my first time requesting so it's conoletly fine if you don't like this idea, no problem here!
Also I don't know how much you like to write about family dynamics, but if it's alright with you...
Aaron Hotchner x reader,
It will be like 2 moments in different years... like the first time little Jack is comfortable enough around reader to call her mom... and the other one teen Jack not taking her grounding while Aaron is away and screamimg at her something like "You are not my mom".... And of course Aaron is there the whole time taking care of his' and his family emotions.
Kinda fluff, then angst and fluff ending hahha
If you want to write it, it would be such an honor you are my favorite writter in here but if you don't feel like it, it's fine
Love you and thank you 🌸🌸🌸
Ooooof this one is brutal. But I love it. Kids are sooooo mean sometimes and know exactly how to make it hurt!
You got it!
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Midnight | Chapter 18 | S.R
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Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Chapter Summary - whilst trying to clean up the mess you made, Luke makes a discovery. Spencer and Luke have it out before Spencer comes to a realisation about his mental state.
A/N - chapter starts just before the end of the last chapter as reader is storming away from Luke.
Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending
Warnings - use of “bitch” and “whore” (not towards reader), mentions of sexual assault, blackmail, swearing, murder, blood, PTSD, talk of split personas and alter egos. WC - 4.7k
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Chapter 18 - Uncontainable
When you stormed away from Luke back towards the cabin, the raised voice coming from inside stopped you in your tracks as you reached the front porch. All your years of FBI training kicked in at that moment and you slowly and cautiously crept to the window. 
The first thing you saw was a wave of bright red hair flashing before your eyes as the person it belonged to moved frantically back and forth. But it soon became clear she wasn’t moving of her own accord. 
Spencer, who was only wearing a pair of underwear, shook her by her wrist somewhat violently, yelling in her face. 
“Listen you little bitch, do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?”
You frowned at his words, trying to deduce what they were arguing about whilst also making sure you didn’t make a sound. 
“You know you’re not helping yourself right? If you bruise me it’ll only make my story seem more believable.” Mary spat back at him and you saw Spencer quickly let her go. “And don’t think I haven’t seen the bruises on your lovely wife. I’m sure she would back up my story.” 
Story? What story? Was she exploiting Spencer? Had Luke told her who you really were and now she was trying to blackmail him? He said something about unreported assaults, was she going to tell people he assaulted her? 
“The only story she would back up is the one where you’re a desperate little whore who shamelessly wanted to fuck a man you perceived to married.” He barked at her. 
“Well I guess we’ll see won’t we? Who’s going to believe the strange out of towner over the young, innocent girl.” 
That was all you needed to hear. You could put an end to this, clear up this mess before it got out of hand. 
You crept around the side of the cabin and let yourself in the back gate. You made sure to walk silently up the spiral staircase that led to the first floor patio and thank god you’d been too drunk to think about locking the bedroom doors last night. 
You snuck inside and quickly found the SIG in Spencer’s nightstand. You’d done this so many times before, sneaking up on an unsub, it was like second nature. Breathe through your nose, steady, shallow breaths. Feet barely ghosting the floor. Do not make a sound. Keep the gun pointing straight ahead. 
You silently made it down the stairs and you heard her voice again as you reached the kitchen door. 
“I told you I want out of this town. I work three jobs and I am nowhere close to having enough. Finding out your little secret is the best thing that could have happened to me. So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me. Ten grand should do it.” 
You could feel the anger rolling off of Spencer in waves before you even entered the room. He would see you the second you stepped inside and you had to hope he could control his facial expressions long enough so Mary wouldn’t see you coming. 
“Let’s just talk about this, please?” He was begging her as you slowly pushed open the door. His eyes flicked over toward you and you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 
“No, no more talking. You pay me now or I will go straight to the cops.” 
You cocked the gun and if she heard it, it would have been too late. You aimed at the back of her head and pulled the trigger without hesitation. The sound of the gunshot rang out through the room as the bullet hit its target and continued careening out the front of her skull towards the wall. 
She made a pathetic gasping sound as her body crumbled to the floor right at Spencer’s feet. The shock was written all across his face as he looked up at you, still holding the smoking gun in your hand. 
You tucked it in your waistband and strolled closer to Spencer whose mouth was hanging open and wide eyes glared at you in a stupor. 
“W-what did you…? Why did you?” He croaked out as you stepped closer, not a single hint of remorse in your eyes. 
“Karma’s a bitch.” You shrugged simply. “And so was she.” 
“Are you insane?” He yelled in exasperation. “We don’t kill close to home! How are we supposed to talk our way out of this?”
Her blood was splattered across his bare torso and arms, but he didn’t seem to notice, his frustration taking precedence. 
“She was threatening you! What was I supposed to do? Let her tell the whole town you raper her? Or let you fork over all of our cash to keep her quiet?” You glared at him. 
“Fuck, Y/N, this is bad.” He scratched his head, trying to formulate a plan. “We need to clean this up. We need to make sure every inch of this cabin is as clean as when we found it. We need to get her body in the trunk of the car, we need to dispose of it, and then we need to leave town.” 
“Leave town? That will only make us look more guilty.” You scoffed. 
“By the time they figure out she’s missing we will be so far away from here, they will never find us. And with any luck the freaking BAU won’t find us again either!” He spat. 
You rolled your lip between your teeth and took a step back.
“You know that Luke was here.” You looked guilty. 
“Yes, Y/N I do. Fuck, this is falling apart like a house of goddamn cards.” 
“I’m…I'm sorry.” You swallowed thickly, your previous bravado fading around you. “I’m so sorry.” 
“Hey, hey. It’s ok.” He stepped around Mary’s body closer to you, suddenly softening. “You were trying to help.” 
He cupped your cheek in his hand and held you so gently you could cry. He looked at you as though you hung the moon, his love for you so painfully clear at that moment. 
“I fucked up, Spence.” Your bottom lip quivered. 
“And we’ll fix it. Together, ok? We’re in this together, sweetheart. I promise you we will figure this out.” He leant closer to you and pressed his lips to yours. 
You believed him, you had no reason not to. If anyone was going to be able to set this right it was Spencer. When the two of you worked together, it was some kind of magic. With Spencer on your side this didn’t seem quite as daunting as it actually was. 
***
Luke’s cell phone rang as he was letting himself back into the hire car. He grinded his teeth, not particularly wanting to talk to anyone right now. 
His encounter with you had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew there was something bigger at play here, he knew Spencer had done something, he just had no idea how to prove it. 
He slid into the driver's seat and pulled his phone from his pocket, brows furrowing instantly when he saw the name on the display. He gnawed his bottom lip and answered it, placing the device to his ear. 
“Phil?” He ran his fingers over his stubble. 
“Hey man,” Phil’s voice lacked its usual bounce and under normal circumstances Luke would have asked what was wrong but it was the least of his concerns right now. 
“I’m sorry now really isn’t a good time.” Luke slotted the key in the ignition but didn’t start the engine. 
“I really need to talk to you.” 
“I’m up to my eyes in a case, I’ll call as soon I’m-”
“It’s about Duncan Green.” Phil cut him off. 
Luke’s hand that was still on the key fell to his lap as his blood froze in his veins. It had been several years since he’d last heard that name but it didn’t make it any less sinister. 
“I’m sorry, what?” Luke leant back against the chair, gaze somewhere out of the window but not focused on anything. He could feel every erratic beat of his heart. 
“A body was found in a shallow grave in the Rio Grande National Forest in Colorado. We got a call after local cops got a match to his prints.” Phil’s tone was morose, not at all how Luke expected him to react to this. 
“He’s dead?” Luke wanted to jump for joy but he put the party on hold. He could tell there was something Phil wasn’t saying. 
“Had his throat cut. He’s been living in Albuquerque under the assumed name of Matthew Richards since his escape from prison.” 
Luke closed his eyes, holding the phone in a vice like grip. Green had been murdered, his body found in Colorado. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his cool, at least for the time being. 
“Is it a coincidence or do you think someone tracked him down?” Luke kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut. 
“I don’t believe in coincidences. The bureau still has sightings of him come in everyday but you know we can’t check out every lead, it would be impossible. But the Green case was accessed just a few weeks ago and again a week ago by the same government login details.” Phil’s voice sounded even more sullen. 
“Who’s were they?” Luke held his breath, already having a pretty good idea of what he might say. 
“L. Alvez.” Phil sighed as he spoke. 
Luke opened his eyes, slamming his hand violently against the steering wheel and letting out an animalistic groan. 
“Fuck.” He spat, slamming the wheel again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“I can only assume it wasn’t you?”
“Of course it wasn’t me!” Luke spat, pinching the bridge of his nose firmly between his fingers. 
There were only two people who he could think of that would have accessed that file. You knew him well enough to assume his login password, like it wouldn’t be hard for him to guess yours. And Spencer was a goddamn genius and it wouldn’t be at all difficult for him to figure it out. 
He had a post it note on his desk at work, hidden under his keyboard with his password scrawled on it, even though he knew it was dumb to do so. Realistically anyone at the BAU could have found it and logged onto the database as him but you and Spencer were the only ones who had the motive to do so. 
Green killed your sister, it wasn’t a far stretch to think you would have wanted him dead. And if Spencer was really in love with you, maybe he’d do just about anything for you, including finding the monster who ruined your life. 
He took a few deep breaths to try and compose himself before he spoke again. 
“How far is the National Forest from Crested Butte?” He grumbled, still pinching his nose. 
“Uh, why?” Phil’s tone was riddled with confusion.
“Just look, please?” 
“Fine, let me check.” Phil started tapping away at a keyboard for a moment or two before he spoke again. “About one hundred and sixty miles south, give or take.” 
“Goddamnit.” Luke hit the steering wheel again. 
“You gonna fill me in on what angle you’re working here, Alvez?” 
“I…no not yet.” Luke shook his head. “I gotta go.” 
“Alvez, tell me what you’re thinking.” Phil remained calm. 
“I can’t. Not yet. I need to piece this together first.”
“I can help you.” 
“No, you can’t. I’ll call you later.” Luke quickly pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up, smacking the wheel several more times. “God-fucking-damnit Y/N, what have you done?” 
Suddenly he grabbed the keys back out of the ignition and was hurling himself onto the street and marching in the direction of your cabin. 
***
Spencer closed every single one of the curtains on the house just to be sure. He wiped the residual blood off his torso, he’d shower properly later as he was bound to get dirty again, and threw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, foregoing a shirt. 
While he was busy doing that, you laid out garbage bags and wrapped Mary’s dead body in them, sealing every inch to ensure no more unnecessary blood leaked out. You dragged her dead weight through to the kitchen, on your way towards the back door when there was a sudden and rampant knocking at the door. 
You froze in your tracks just as Spencer appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked at you, now covered in Mary’s blood after wrapping her up. He slowly padded downstairs, as quietly as possible in the hopes whoever was at the door would think you were out. 
But then they knocked again. 
“Y/N, I know you’re in there! Open the door!” Luke’s voice carried through to you both. 
“Shit.” You hissed, ducking below the kitchen counter even though the curtains were drawn. 
“He’s not gonna leave easily.” Spencer sighed, looking down at himself to ensure there was no visible blood. “You stay here, it’s about time Luke and I had it out anyway.” 
“Spencer, there’s a blood pool in the middle of the room and a fucking bullet in the wall!” You reminded him, glaring at him from the floor where Mary’s trash bag covered body was laying next to you. 
“Shit,” he groaned. “You’re right. If I open the door he might try and force his way in.” 
“Y/N! Open this goddamn door!” Luke yelled louder this time. 
“I’ll go round back, it might look suspicious but it’s better than the alternative.” He nodded to himself. “Stay here and don’t make a sound.” 
“Spencer!” You whined, halting him in his tracks. “I’m scared.” 
He rolled his lip between his teeth and moved closer to you, dropping to his knees next to you and cupping your face. 
“I’m going to take care of it sweetheart. I promise you, everything is going to be ok.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before standing back up and you watched him stroll out of the kitchen towards the back door. 
You whimpered a little when Luke knocked again, heavier and angrier than before. You held your breath, moving to a sitting position on the kitchen floor and drawing your legs up to your chest and leaning back against the cupboard.
Spencer marched through the garden and out of the side gate, ready to face Luke for hopefully the final time. 
“Y/N open the fucking door! I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me!” Luke slammed his palms against the door just as Spencer was rounding the house and stopped at the bottom of the porch steps. 
“You’re gonna be here a long time then.” He folded his arms across his chest and he saw Luke tense at the sound of his voice. 
Slowly, the older man turned to face him, hands going to his hips and squaring his shoulders. 
“Where is she?” Luke spat. 
“That's none of your concern.” Spencer kept his cool, he needed to keep his anger bottled up if he was going to get through his encounter. 
“She’s my friend.” He folded his arms too.
“But she’s my wife.” Spencer smirked, unfolding his own arms and proffering his ring finger toward Luke.
“You and I both know that’s not real.” Luke scoffed. 
“It’s a symbol, Alvez. She loves me and who knows, maybe one day we’ll make it real. So stop chasing her down like a pathetic love struck puppy. She doesn’t want you, man, deal with it.” Spencer shrugged, offering him a slightly sympathetic smile. 
“You think that’s what this is about? You think I came all this way because I want to win her heart? We’re not in high school, Reid.” He rolled his eyes. 
“I think you’re jealous and you’re concocting scenarios in your head as a way of making yourself feel better when the truth is, Y/N and I just wanted to get away from it all. From you all. Do us a favour and leave us alone, Alvez. We don’t need you chasing after us.” Spencer spat as Luke headed down the front steps towards him.
“So it’s just a coincidence that Duncan Green turned up dead in the same state you and Y/N decided to call home?” 
Spencer’s breath caught in his throat. It felt like a trap, he needed to pick his words very carefully. He made sure to keep his expression unchanged, didn’t even so much as blink at Luke’s words but inside he was panicking. 
Just take a breath. Calm down. Don’t rise to it. 
“Who?” Spencer hid the recognition from his face, but Luke still saw through it. 
“Don’t play dumb, Reid. It doesn’t suit you.” Luke rolled his eyes. “Duncan Green, the man who killed Y/N’s sister, who broke out of prison and who we were chasing at the FTF for years. He was found with his throat cut less than two hundred miles from here and my user was the last to look him up. All seems a little coincidental doesn’t it?” 
“Right, yeah Y/N has told me about him. What are you implying, Alvez?” Spencer cocked his eyebrow. “You think, what? I killed him? Oh come on, do you really believe I’m capable of something like that?” 
“The thing is, I’m not sure what you’re capable of. I thought I knew you both but I’m not so sure anymore.” Luke shook his head. “Some twenty two year old told me you were sleeping with her. Some diner guy told me Y/N said you were a bully. Hell, the guy at the used car lot thought she was scared of you! All that makes me think that maybe I never really knew you.” 
Don’t let him break you, Reid, do not give him anything. 
“Luke with all due respect, why are listening to these morons over me? You do know me, and you know I’m not capable of killing someone.” 
Luke’s expression faltered and Spencer breathed a small sigh of relief, seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. He just had to stick the landing, don’t fumble it at the last hurdle. 
“I really don’t know what to think, Spencer. Of course I don’t want to believe you’re capable of something like this but there are just so many things that don’t add up here. And I swear to god if you did kill Green and you’ve put Y/N in danger, I will make it my life’s work to put you back in prison for the rest of your life.” Luke spat, his expression one Spencer had seen him use many times in interrogations. 
Spencer took a step back as a smirk twitched at his lips. He shrugged his shoulders at Luke. 
“You’re not as intimidating as you think you are, Alvez. And I can promise you, if I had done something, you would never get me back inside a prison cell.” He took a few more steps back and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Now if you’d kindly get the hell out of here and leave us alone.” 
Spencer turned on his heels and started back towards the side gate. He thought Luke might have more to say, he heard the other man grunting in frustration behind him, like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. 
He threw open the gate and bolted it behind him, not slowing as he traversed the backyard and made his way inside the cabin, locking the back door behind him. He found you more or less where he left you, cowering on the kitchen floor next to the garbage bag stuffed with Mary’s corpse. 
You looked up at him, bottom lip quivering as you hugged your legs to your chest. It was such a strange juxtaposition to see you so frightened when you hadn’t hesitated in pulling the trigger and killing Mary not so long ago. 
Spencer slid down to the floor next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and you instinctively rested your head on him. He could hear your erratic breaths as you snuggled against him.
“Is he gone?” You whispered. 
“Not yet. I’d kill him with my bare hands if I didn’t still respect him so damn much.” Spencer sighed. 
“I would never forgive you if you killed Luke.” You raised your head and looked at him. 
“I know, sweetheart. And I wouldn’t do that to you. But jeez he’s a pain in the ass.” He used his free hand to cup your face delicately and his fingertips brushed lightly over your cheek. “He knows about Green.”
Your face paled, colour completely draining from your skin as you stared at him in horror.
“He…what?” You swallowed. 
“I didn’t get the full story but I guess they found his body. There is nothing that can tie us to him, Y/N. We were careful.” He tried to insist. 
Apart from the fact I used Luke’s credentials to track him, he decided against saying out loud.
“What happens now, Spence?” 
“We have to wait him out, he won’t stay out there forever. Once it’s dark we have to get rid of the body, clean up this house and we have to get the fuck out of this town before anyone realises she’s missing.” 
“I like it here.” You sighed sadly. 
He could have pointed out the fact that if it weren’t for you being so trigger happy then you wouldn’t have to leave. Not so long ago, he would have pointed that out. He would have gotten angry, blamed you for this, for Mary’s death, for Luke showing up here and for the BAU being on your asses. But something had changed in Spencer.
It was entirely plausible that his time in prison had caused a break in his psyche. The PTSD that he’d left untreated for so long had manifested itself in the form of a second persona, much more dark and evil than himself. When he found his anger rising, he switched into this alter ego without meaning to, maybe because Spencer had never been good at dealing with anger or emotions in general.
His alter allowed him to stand up for himself, to deal with that residual trauma and not bottle it all up like he’d been doing his entire life. You’d told him he was like Jekyll and Hyde and you were right. 
But he was learning that the love he felt for you, that swarmed through every inch of his body was what could tether him. If he focused only on that love and not on the rage, he could keep the monster at bay. Best case scenario, he may never need to kill again, but really he’d just settle for not ever having to make you scared of him again. 
He wanted to be the man you needed him to be. None of this hassle was worth it if he didn’t have you at his side at the end of the day. You were worth not giving over to his demons for, you were the only thing that mattered in his completely fucked up existence. 
He knew if it came down to it he would take the wrap for everything, Green, Mary and Jason Durand included. He would not let you go down for any of this. He was going to the ends of the Earth to protect you no matter what. He loved you so much, it was the least he could do. He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 
“I know sweetheart, but I’ll find you a new Stars Hollow, I promise.” He kissed your forehead. 
“Won’t they just come for us again? They’re going to keep coming for us, Spencer.” You chewed on your lip. 
“We have to be extra careful this time. We have to figure out a plan, we can’t use the Nissan anymore, not now the team knows about it. And our aliases are blown. Fuck, I don’t know what we’re going to do.” He confessed, letting go of your face so he could pinch the bridge or his nose. 
A smile tugged at your lips which caused Spencer to frown at you. 
“Good job I’m always prepared. I was a fugitive hunter, Spencer, we don’t leave anything to chance.” You sat back and reached into the pocket of your jeans, pulling out four similar rectangular cards which you handed over to him. “I think through every eventuality. The BAU have no idea what they’re dealing with.”
Spencer looked on in awe at the four driving licences in his hand. Two bore your photograph and two his. There was one matching set of Arizona issued licences for Samuel and Violet Truman and another set of Florida licences for Jack and Lily Waters. He glanced up at you with a curious expression on his face. 
“Samuel and Violet will buy themselves a little car to go on their American road trip. Meanwhile, Jack and Lily will be checking into motels along their way.” You smiled mischievously at him Spencer’s own smile grew. He had never loved you more than he did at that moment. 
“Good god woman, you’re an evil genius.” He pulled you close and kissed you hard. “If we make it out of this, remind me to marry you for real one day.” 
You giggled against his lips, both of you completely forgetting the imminent danger you could be in, ignoring the dead body by your side and Luke still skulking around outside. 
“We’ll be ok right, Spence? If we leave this place, we’ll find somewhere new and they won’t find us. We’re gonna be ok, aren’t we?” You needed to hear him say it.
“We're going to be just fine, sweetheart. We’re going to take care of this mess and we’re not looking back, only forward. They can’t curb us like they want to. They don’t get us. It’s you and me.” 
“You and me.” You repeated. “We’re uncontainable.” 
Hey,
we're takin' our crown, we're takin' it now, yeah.
Hey, we never look back,
We're uncontainable!
Woo!
(Are you ready? Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls for the main event.
Ha-ha, they aren't ready for this one! Yeah, here we are!)
Comin' out the gate I'm swinging,
And if you're in my way you'll feel it.
I hear you think you're tough,
So put your hands up,
We never back down from a fight.
So lemme ask ya,
Can they stop us?
(No!)
Break us?
(No!)
Get your game face on,
We're against the ropes!
Tap out?
(No!)
Throw in the towel?
(Hell no!)
'Cause when the bell goes off the gloves do too.
Hey, we're takin' our crown, we're takin' it now, yeah.
Hey, we never look back,
We're uncontainable!
Hey, we're takin' our crown, we're takin' it now, yeah.
Hey, we never look back,
We're uncontainable!
Throwin' off the chains,
I'm runnin'.
You think you're at the top,
You're fallin.
Swing and miss you're through,
You're out of the loop,
We're gonna bury you alive.
So lemme ask ya,
Can they stop us?
(No!)
Break us?
(No!)
Get your game face on,
We're against the ropes!
Tap out?
(No!)
Throw in the towel?
(Hell no!)
'Cause when the bell goes off the gloves do too.
Hey, we're takin' our crown we're takin' it now, yeah.
Hey, we never look back?
We're uncontainable!
Hey, we're takin' our crown, we're takin' it now, yeah.
Hey, we never look back?
We're uncontainable!
Keep swingin', keep dreamin',
But you'll never knock me out.
I've fallen too often,
But you'll never keep me down.
You see it, you feel it,
Your mama can't save you now.
One day they'll say,
The throne was made for me.
Yeah,
Uncontainable.
(Is he?)
We're uncontainable.
Hey, we're takin' our crown we're takin' it now, yeah.
Hey, we never look back,
We're uncontainable!
Hey, we're takin' our crown, we're takin' it now, yeah.
Hey, we never look back,
We're uncontainable!
Stop us?
(No!)
Break us?
(No!)
Get your game face on,
We're against the ropes!
Tap out?
(No!)
Throw in the towel?
(Hell no!)
Never look back,
We're uncontainable.
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@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom
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mickisnotclever · 8 hours
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Running this for research on whether chapter length truly matters. It will help myself and other fic writers, so please vote or reblog with your input if none of the options fit your opinion
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Text
Baby, Let The Games Begin
Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~600
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You have a spontaneous snowball fight with your friends that ends with you hitting the wrong person. Who knew she'd get her revenge only weeks later?
Square Filled: free space for @badbitchesbingo
Author’s Note: JJ and the reader are in college
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x
God, you fucking hate the cold. If you could live in a sunny place for the rest of your life, you would. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll buy a house in both the Northern and Southern Hemisphere so you don’t ever have to be in the cold weather again. Some people say the cold is better because you can bundle up and snuggle in blankets. Fuck that shit. You hate the feeling of chills running down your spine and goosebumps rising on your skin. It doesn’t matter how many blankets you bundle up in, that chill never goes away.
The only good thing that can come from cold weather is the snow. Snow isn’t so bad because you get to have fun outside. The more you run around and play with your friends, the hotter you get until the cold isn’t an issue anymore.
Still, you wish summer was here.
The path from the library to your dorm isn’t far but the cold makes the journey stretch to what feels like miles. You walk past a group of trees when you get ambushed by flying snowballs. You gasp and protect your face from the biting cold only to hear the familiar laughter of your friends.
“You little shits! You’re gonna pay!” you grin.
You grab handfuls of snow and start throwing, not knowing exactly who is getting hit. You grab a bigger handful of snow to throw at the instigator of the group but when you throw it at him, he ducks out of the way. The snowball slams into the face of a complete stranger. Everyone stops playing around as you approach the unsuspecting victim.
“I am so sorry. Are you okay?” you gasp.
The snow falls from her face and the bluest of blue eyes stares at you. She narrows her eyes in anger but you can’t seem to focus on anything but her beauty.
“Have better aim next time.”
She shrugs the rest of the snow off her before walking away. You’re stuck in your place; you can’t seem to move even if you wanted to. You stare at her retreating figure, and one of your friends slaps his hands on your back.
“Someone has a crush,” he sings.
“Shut the fuck up. This is your fault. You ducked out of the way.”
“Not my fault you’re too slow.”
You push him away from you and depart from your group of friends. That kind of killed the mood so you’re ready to go back to your dorm and dream about the mysterious blonde woman. 
A few days later, you rush over to soccer practice inside the huge dome field. They put the dome up whenever there is severe weather like heaps of snow outside so you can at least practice. You’re new to the team and this is your first practice. You’ve dabbled in the sport in high school and figured you’d give it a try in college.
You’re off to the side stretching when you hear people yelling. You look up just as a soccerball smacks into the side of your face. Whoever kicked it didn’t do it hard enough to break any bones, but you know there will be a slight bruise there later on.
You gasp and look around the field to see who might have kicked it. You lock eyes with the same blue eyes you’ve fallen for. She flips her hair back and smirks, giving you wide unapologetic eyes.
“I am so sorry. Are you okay?” she asks.
You want to be mad. You want to be pissed she did this out of spite. Instead, you’re smitten all over again. If she wants to play this way, you’ll play her games.
“Have better aim next time,” you tell her the exact words she told you.
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