#reid: here hands her the credit card

[satan-wishes-he-was-me]

morgan: we need to get though this locked door. reid give me your credit card. reid: *hands him the credit card* here morgan, pocketing it: cool *kicks down the door*

[secretly-tumb1r]

Roadtrip - hotch x reader

summary: when hotch finally sheds his stubbornness, he decides to drive back to Quantico from New York, in an attempt to rest his punctured eardrum. You couldn’t leave him without company, so you join him.

Warning: 18+ MDNI, making out, alcohol usage

A/n: first hotch fic hope you love it!! Also i cant exactly remember the dialogue between hotch and prentiss at the start forgive me😭. Enjoy lovelies💞

masterlist

(gif not mine all credits to original creator <3)

“Here, for your flight back.” Hotch hands the platter of baked goods to Agent Prentiss.

“What, you aren’t coming with us?” Her eyebrow cocks up in curiosity. “No, I really shouldn’t be flying” He shakes his head. “are you sure? it’s a 7 hour ride back to Quantico” Rossi asks, words chosen carefully. Hotch looks down. “I’ve taken that road before, you’ll see loads of country, beautiful scenery, maybe you should extend your trip a day or two.” Hotch easily picks up what he was putting down, suggesting he should take a rest. “Thank you” “Take all the time you need” Rossi nods at him and gets in the black SUV.

“Hey.. care for some company?” you smile brightly at Aaron and surprisingly, he returns the gesture. “Sure why not, hop in,” his eyes twinkle with happiness at the thought of you two on a roadtrip alone, maybe even in a hotel room. You cheerfully make your way to the passenger door, waving a quick goodbye to the rest of your team.

“Well.. we all know what’s gonna happen in the one day Hotch and y/n will take off” Morgan teases. “I don’t wanna think about it..” Reid grimaces at the thought, earning a laugh from the rest.

—————————————————————————

You had been on the road for quite some time yet. The sky was darkening and you were engulfed by silence bar the quiet radio playing in the background. Your eyes dared to close as your head fell down as sleep was consuming you. Work lately was.. exhausting. Aarons eyes shifted slightly from the road to your tired physique and his heart nearly broke. Seeing you so tired, he made his mind up to pull over at the nearest hotel.

It wasn’t for another 2 miles that his car finally stopped, and you were awakened from your slumber by a soft voice. “y/n” he gently patted your shoulder, “cmon wake up, we’re at a hotel” you stirred in your sleep “mm 5 more minutes” you practically moaned and leaned into his touch. His mouth went dry, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as a he took a big gulp. “y/n, wake up” he said a bit sterner. Your eyes shot open at the familiar voice, embarrassment filling your body. “Sorry! sorry i’m up.” you try to look as awake as possible. “cmon let’s go in we’re both tired”.

Hotch was normally so.. stoic. His face blurred of any emotion except seriousness. You were pretty sure in the one year you had worked at the BAU, you’d never seen him smile. That was awake Hotch, sleepy hotch was merely the opposite. It looked like all attempts to contain human emotion were discarded a few hours back. Sleepy Hotch was more.. human like, it was refreshing seeming him emit feelings like the rest of us mortals.

“I’m sorry sir, we only have one available room right now.” Hotch’s gaze didn’t shift off the guy at the till. “It’s fine. We’ll take that please.” he hands him his credit card. “Are you sure? There’s only one bed in that room” Your breath hitched. You’d either be sharing the bed or one of you would have to sleep on the floor, which you assumed Hotch would take it upon himself to take his place on the floor. “Yeah it’s fine we’ll work something out” he sighs deeply and shoves his hands down his pockets.

Aaron tried to keep his composure at the thought of you two sharing a bed. Of course he knew it wouldn’t happen, he’d have to sleep on the floor, but the thought of it suddenly made him wide awake.

When you made it to the room you realised you had no change to sleep in, so you discarded your pants and bra and pulled your button up shirt that reached your mid thighs down. Stepping out the bathroom while tying your hair up in a low bun, Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. You were radiating. Even tired and only in a shirt you still managed to look exquisite. His eyes hungrily scanned your body stopping at your exposed thighs, arousal building up inside him. He did his best to look you in the eye as he stared in silence.

“Like what you see boss?” You teased, your eyebrows lifting suggestively. “uh- “ he gulped hard. “i’m gonna go uhm- yeah”. He disappeared in the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on his face, he took his tie, belt and button up shirt off, leaving him in his pants and a undershirt he appeared to wear under his shirt. When he stepped out, you had to keep yourself from salivating. His biceps looked incredibly big, and his pants fit him perfectly. You bit down on your bottom lip, a gesture you only did when you were excited. Hotch knew that. His confidence building back up inside him as he repeated your previous words.

“Like what you see” and he suggestively raised his eyebrows like you did just moments ago. “uh- i- “ He laughed brightly, which took you by surprise because untill a few moments ago, you hadn’t even seen him smile before. Your shoulders relaxed as you slumped down on the bed. “so i’ll uhm- take the floor” he began to say. You quickly interrupted him. “cmon boss, don’t be like that, it’s only one night. I promise i’ll keep my distance” His mouth twitched into a smile, and his heart grew. He didn’t think you’d suggest sharing a bed, but he was glad you did. He joined you in bed, heart beating so hard he thought it would jump out his chest.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy, like a highschool kid with her first crush. His presence was so hard to ignore, and your body moved before your mind as you turned to your side to face him. He was laying on his back looking up at the ceiling, he looked so beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire his features. His dark eyebrows, and even darker eyes, his high cheekbones and his big nose. Something about big noses excited something in you. You had no idea why.

Hotch turned his head to look at you, his eyes scanning your body. Your hands were pressed under the side of your head, and your leg was slightly bent, showing the curve of your ass. He felt his pants tighten as he abruptly got up, walking to the mini bar.

“Would you care for a drink?” You lifted yourself on your elbows to look at him. “Sure why not”. One drink turned into two and two turned into too many, and quickly you were laughing and telling eachother embarrassing childhood stories.

“No i’m not even lying! I licked his teeth!” you said as you teasingly pushed his arm. Hotch, between laughs, said “Your first kiss, and you licked his teeth?” He collapsed on the bed laughing. “What can i say i wasnt the best kisser”. Suddenly, he stopped laughing, his eyes filling with lust.

“Are you still bad at kissing?” His dark eyes bore into yours as you softly said “yes” picking up what he was putting down. “Why don’t you show me and i’ll give you some pointers.” His hand met your cheek, grazing it gently, as he pulled you in, his lips crashing onto yours. He tasted like alcohol and sweetness, intoxicating. His cologne filled your nostrils as you shifted your legs to straddle him, both of your thighs pressed against his ribs, as he cupped your face and tilted your head back, deepening the kiss. His hand moved to your thighs, kneading the soft skin making you gasp. He took the opportunity of you opening your mouth more to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His soft tongue dancing in a slow rhythm with your own. He moved both of his hands to your thighs gripping them tightly as your hands make their way to his hair, pulling it.

Your mouths moved in tandem and unity, a pace that was so calming yet so awakening. You had never felt this way before, and now that you had, you never wanted to back to feeling how you used to.

first part what do y’all thinkkkk?? i know this isn’t very “erotic” but i js needed to see if you guys would like it. Lmk if you do and i’ll post a very very spicy part 2 lovelies. LOVE YOU ALL MWWWAHHHH kisses xoxo💞

[plussizefantasia]

Dr. Encyclopedia

Flufftover Day 26: Coffee Shop

Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: I kind of went off prompt here, but I really like where it ended up. My requests are still open for things to write after October is done so send them in. Reblogs and Feedback are really appreciated. I'll see y'all tomorrow!

ps. all the facts in here were googled so they might be wrong, but who knows?

divider credit @royallaesthetics

You weren’t planning on spending your entire morning in the quaint little coffee shop that you walk past on your way to work, but the raging storm outside dictated that you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. You had your work laptop and could do some of your tasks from pretty much anywhere, minus team meetings but you didn’t have one of those today. You sent off a quick text to your boss letting her know that you'd be avoiding arriving at the office sporting the drowned rat look and would be there when the rain let up. She had told you not to sweat it and that she’d see you when you got there.

A similar story to yours was playing out on the other side of the shop. A very fidgety Spencer Reid was on the phone with Hotch letting him know that he was stranded in the little coffee shop and bakery he went to every morning. Because Spencer didn’t like to drive, he walked this way to get to the train that would take him a block away from Quantico, but like you also was trapped by the torrential downpour lest he soak through his sweater and catch a cold. 

“Hotch, it’s raining pretty hard here, I don’t think you want me trying to make it there in this weather.” You were unable to hear the other side of the conversation “Yeah, okay. Yes. Yes. Sir, I will bring you one of the muffins you like.” You let out a little chuckle at the handsome stranger’s negotiating skills. 

“Boss man not happy?” you queried.

“Oh,” the man looked between his phone and you, “he’ll be okay. He loved the banana nut muffins from here.”

“Hmm. Did you know that the banana plant is the largest plant in the world without a woody stem? The trunk is just banana leaves intertwined around each other making a strong base.” You offered. You found that fun facts were a great way to break the ice, and if this man was to be your only real company besides the busy-looking barista behind the counter until the rain ended, you wanted to get off on the right foot.

“I did. Did you know that the first discovery of coffee’s stimulant effects was made by 15th-century goats?” He replied, nodding his head at the coffee cup you were holding.

‘Goats?” You asked. 

“Yes, they were found by the locals in a small Brazilian town and were more energetic than the average goat, causing the coffee plant to be found and its use deduced.”

“Well, that is just about the funnest fact I’ve ever heard.” You told him, pushing your hand out to offer the man a handshake.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands. You transfer fewer germs by kissing than shaking hands.”

You put your hand down, “what is your name?” 

‘Spencer Reid.” He handed you a business card with his name on it from somewhere on his body, you weren't sure. It was like it had just appeared. 

You read the card. “FBI, huh? So you’re like real important aren’t you.”

‘I don’t know about that the FBI employs about 35,000 people across the US, I’m just one man.”

“One man, who knows a lot about caffeinated goats.”

“I know a lot about a lot of things.”

“Prove it.” You had challenged. With a raise of his eyebrow, he followed your instructions. For the next hour and a half the two of you sat at a small table in the corner of the shop, the only customers in the whole place. Rain beat against the windows and the light outside dimmed, being replaced with a sort of grey sheen that seemed to bathe the whole interior of the shop in a bittersweet melancholy. 

Spencer and you went fact for fact, he was polite enough not to admit that he knew all of the facts you had presented already, or tell you that a few of them were wrong. He was astonished that you were willing to listen to his rambling for so long. The only person who could really stand to listen to him for a long period of time was JJ and her record was 45 minutes, you were going into hour two.

“So, Mr. FBI. How do you know so many wonderful things?”

‘I was kind of a lonely kid, I graduated early from every school I was in, and didn’t have many friends so I turned to books. And when you have an eidetic memory, you learn a lot of things.”

“I didn’t have many friends either,” you reassured him, not wanting him to stew in his vulnerability alone, “I taught myself all kinds of things. How to sew, how to make chicken cordon blue, growing vegetables.” you sighed sort of wistfully. “Looking back, they aren't very impressive skills but I love them growing up.”

‘I don’t know about not impressive, I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned.” Spencer admitted. “I think your skills sound pretty great.”

“Yeah? Well, I think being a walking encyclopedia is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The two of you just sat in the pleasant silence for a little bit. Both are a little shy after so many compliments. Spencer’s phone rang.

“Dr. Reid.” He answered giving you an apologetic look and standing up from the table.

Dr. Reid. He hadn’t told you he was a doctor, you want to know what his PhD was in. YOu wanted to know all about him, you wanted to know him.

“Reid, where are you?” Hotch asked.

“I told you that I was in the shop, I’d be there when the rain was over. 

“Reid. The rain is over, the rain has been over for twenty minutes.” Spenser immediately shot his head towards the window of the shop. Hotch was right, there were still water droplets that clung to the glass, but the downpour had stopped. The clouds had passed and several rays of sunlight were beginning to seep into the space.

“I- I didn’t even notice. I’ll be there soon. With your muffin.” Spencer hung up before Hotch could reply. He turned back to the table the two of you had taken up.

“Did you notice that the rain had stopped?” He asked. You also looked out the window. You let out a soft chuckle.

“No, I didn’t. How long has it been done?” 

‘According to Bossman, about twenty minutes.”

“Jesus. I guess we really got lost in our own bubble there.” You supplied

‘I guess we did.” Spencer lingered. It had been years since he met someone who was able to keep his attention like that. “Would you um, would you like to get coffee again sometime?” He asked.

You couldn't fight the beaming smile that took up the bottom half of your face. “I’d love to. Dr. Reid.” 

“Okay, Yeah. Good. Umm, call me?” Spencer bumbled, reaching for the brown paper bag that held Hotch’s muffin and grabbing his satchel bag from the back of his seat.

“I will.” You lifted up the card he had given you in between your fingers. “I definitely will.”

Spencer backed out of the shop, looking at you the entire time. And only when he was out of your eyeline did he let himself celebrate. He would have to tell Morgan, this would definitely get him off his back.

You saved Spencer’s number in your phone, under Dr. Encycolpedia, and started counting down the minutes to when you’d be able to call him. You really wanted to get coffee again.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Eyes Have It: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: Hotch is stepping down, giving Derek the opportunity to rise in his place. Derek wants to fight for you but is forced to deal with the case at hand. You, on the other hand, are forced to deal with the ugly side of prison.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I just want to remind everyone that I know this isn't what prisons are like in real life (I think). For the sake of the story, it's how this prison works.

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

It's been two weeks since you first arrived and the feeling of fear and being overwhelmed hasn't gone away. You're falling apart and you can't tell anyone. You don't want to make Ashley uncomfortable so you haven't told her that you're a psychic. That kind of thing will get you isolated in here. That will make you a target in most people's eyes. All she knows is that you are an FBI Agent who was framed for murders you didn't commit, and that's all she's going to know about you.

You walk into the courtyard and look at everyone here. Every woman has done unspeakable crimes that some aren't remorseful about while others are just trying to keep their heads down. Some women are playing either basketball or volleyball, some of them are in the weight yard, some are sitting on the benches playing cards and trading packs of cigarettes, and others are by themselves just enjoying their own company.

The only person missing from the courtyard is Ashley. She told you she'd meet you here when she got done with her job in the laundry room. She has met you in the same spot since day one so it's concerning you that she isn't here. There are guards posted everywhere, so you approach the one whom you feel more at ease with. Her energy is calming compared to some of the other guards whose energies are more aggressive.

"Hi, can I use the bathroom?" you ask. "I really have to go."

You've been especially kind to her, so you're hoping she will allow you to do so without issue. She looks you up and down before nodding slightly. You smile at her and thank her as you pass by her. The prison has cameras everywhere and guards posted at every corner, so if she doesn't escort you to the bathroom, there are guards who are watching your every move.

You try not to piss off the guards you pass by as you look for your friend. All you need to do is find her energy and she'll be right there. The closer you get to the bathroom, the more her energy is apparent. You turn the corner into the bathroom and see her on the floor cowering in fear in front of a much larger woman than her. They are arguing; well, the larger woman is doing all the yelling. Ashley is just trying not to piss her off even more than she already is.

"I don't care who the fuck you are. If you ever come near me again, I'll do more than fucking hit you."

"Hey!" you shout, causing both women to look at you. "Leave her alone."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it if I don't?" You look at Ashley who is scared out of her mind. "That's what I thought."

She turns back to Ashley but you're not done with her. You're not scared of her but Ashley's fear is rolling onto you which makes you fearful of the woman.

"Back the hell off her. I won't ask again," you narrow your eyes.

The woman turns to face you again and is swift with her movements. She rears her fist back and sends a sharp right hook into your jaw. You crumble to the ground in pain and she laughs at you.

"Bitch."

The woman spits on the ground near you before leaving the bathroom. You take a minute to yourself before getting up. Ashley is in tears that you had to suffer at her hand but you wave it off.

"I am so sorry," Ashley cries.

"No, don't do that. This isn't the first beating I've taken in my life. It'll be okay," you sigh and help her up.

"You should get checked out by the doctor here."

"There's no point. I'm not injured enough for them to care about me. I'm okay. I promise."

There is going to be a nasty bruise on your face later but there is nothing you can do about that. You just have to shake it off as you do with everything else in your life. You're more worried about what your team will think if they see you like this.

They want to think about you. They want to do everything they can to help you but not when there is an active murder case going on. Another person has fallen victim to the unsub, this time in a public park. He's clearly not afraid of getting caught otherwise he would choose secluded spots to kill his victims. Plus, his next kill spot is far from the other ones, so why go out of his way to kill someone?

He only killed one person this time but it could have been more since it was a crowded park. Phil found a car parked nearby that belonged to the victim, Tracy Copper who was thirty-two. Her husband said she was an avid jogger which is how she found herself in the secluded parts of the park. She died from a single knife wound to the neck, and like the others, her eyes are missing. They were cut out perfectly like the other two female victims.

The unsub must have picked the place and waited for someone to come by. Tracy must have been the first person he knew he could overcome. The method of killing is similar to the two girls in the parking lot except that he was much quieter than before. If he had hidden in the park's trees, he would have made a lot more noise because of the dry brush.

Tracy was an avid jogger so if she had heard him, she could have easily outrun him, he must have used a different method to catch her off guard, right? Right. Not far from where her body was found, there is a tripwire he must have set up before. He used the tripwire to get her off her feet knowing she could have outrun him. Once she's fallen, she's stunned and doesn't have a lot of time to get away.

This kind of behavior paired with the fact that he bleeds her at the neck suggests the unsub is a game hunter and the game happens to be humans.

Spencer and JJ are the only ones at the police station while the rest are out visiting crime scenes, dumpsites, and talking to the ME. JJ calls Penelope to discuss the case, and she looks at Spencer who is picking at the edge of the desk absentmindedly.

"Hey, Garcia, we have the list of local doctors but we need to back it up one step. Give me a list of all doctors who've had infractions like malpractice suits."

"Got it. Bouncing your way."

"Narrow it down to eye specialists."

"That's still a lot of names."

"We'll chip away when we know more."

"Hey, wait. Before you hang up, how's my Morgan doing?"

"Fine."

"I know the man is fine. How's he holding up as head honcho?" Penelope chuckles.

"Well, he's stressed but he's on top of it. Speaking of which, there is something you could do for him," JJ smiles.

"Name it."

"You know Anderson's office?"

"Yeah."

"I say we make that his new office. He's one month before retiring, and I'm sure if you work your magic, then you might get him to work from home."

"I will indeed work my magic," she chuckles. "How are you doing, Spencer?"

"Fine."

He continues to stare at the desk and JJ sighs sadly.

"I bet Y/N is making friends with everyone there. You know how she always connects with people. I'm sure she's making the best out of a bad situation."

"Look, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I'm trying really hard not to think about it okay? Can we move on?"

"Yeah. Sorry." The rest of the team comes strolling in, and JJ sits up straighter. "Gotta go, Pen. Let me know what you find."

"Penelope out."

"How did it go?" JJ asks.

"About as well as you think it did. Hunting is a big part of this city's culture normally but with animals. What triggered him to start hunting humans?" Rossi asks. "This guy is taking people's eyes, so he's definitely disturbed. What bugs me is that people like this usually unravel and get sloppy. This guy is only getting better."

"Morgan, I'm fielding calls left and right here," JJ says. "The case made national news. They're starting to call him the Eye-Snatcher."

"Alright," Derek sighs, "you're gonna hold a small but controlled press conference. Answer their questions but try to squash that name. I want the people to be aware but I do not want to make a bogeyman out of this guy. You understand?"

"Yeah."

JJ looks like she wants to say something else but decides against it.

"Is there something else?"

"You're not answering Strauss' calls."

"She's just trying to keep tabs. She can wait."

"Morgan, maybe you should take the time to field the call," Hotch advises.

"Hotch, we have to set up a tip line. We have to go over JJ's talking points. We haven't gotten the profile out yet. All of that takes priority over dealing with Strauss."

"I understand all that. Let us help you set up a strategy while you talk to her. We'll regroup with you before we proceed. We have enough battles. Believe me, you don't want to fight her, too."

Derek sighs knowing Hotch is right. This is Derek's first case as team leader when Hotch has been doing it for years.

"Let me get this profile out, and then I'll go talk to Strauss."

Everyone goes their separate ways, leaving Hotch and Rossi alone in the conference room.

"He's doing a good job," Rossi says.

"I wanted it to be Y/N."

"I know."

"She did so well on those other cases that I sent in a letter about her leadership skills. Don't get me wrong, Morgan is a good choice for the position but I wanted it to be her. I'm doing everything I can for her but it kills me knowing she's in there. I'm already in enough trouble. I can't go back against Strauss' order and look into her case."

"I know. I understand. It's not a good situation to be in. You've got a tough job, Aaron."

"Yeah," he sighs.

"Have you thought about how this is going to end?"

"What do you mean?"

"Morgan as our unit chief is a temporary thing. He's a natural leader. He'll excel. What happens when he's asked to step down?"

"I can't think about that right now."

After gathering the facts about the case, the profile is ready to be given out. Everyone gathers at the front while Phil and his officers sit, ready to listen.

"We believe that our unsub may have known his first victim but the rest were random. Most enucleators have a mental disorder and are frenzied and sloppy when they attack. This one has more control."

"We are not calling him by any nickname. He is simply a murderer that the FBI is trying to apprehend," JJ says.

"He lays in wait to kill his victims and knows how to cut them so they bleed out. This indicates he might have a hunting background. We're urging citizens to be hypervigilant at night. He is killing in different areas of the city in public places. His large kill zone could be related to some type of travel pattern in his life which indicates a comfort with these neighborhoods."

"Why, all of a sudden, is he killing people every day?" an officer asks.

"The escalation might be caused by a self-imposed timeline. He has to murder so many people, take this many eyes as he can, to accomplish a task."

"So, he's crazy but has a mission?"

"Actually, yes. He's acting on a delusion that's fueling this murder spree. For example, a man named Herbert Mullin had a fear of a catastrophic earthquake hitting California. Now, he believed that by killing people and offering their blood as a sacrifice to the earth, he could prevent an earthquake. He was a paranoid schizophrenic and his delusion led him to kill thirteen people."

"What should we look for when we're on the streets?"

"We believe he's a white male between twenty-seven and thirty-five. We believe he is driving a van or a pickup truck with a removable cab. You know, something utilitarian that can get bloody and washed out easily. He may also have applied for hunting licenses. He has some sort of medical or surgical training but fell short of making a career out of it."

"He may have been in a halfway house or have been granted leave from a treatment facility. Maybe his family moved him away and now he's back. Our unsub kills at night, employs hunting tactics, and is patient. He will wait until he can be alone with his victims," Derek finishes the briefing.

x

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[hotchners-wifey]

Save Her

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader, Platonic!BAU x Reader, Morgan!Sister Reader

Summary: Y/N has a past she's never told anyone about, she was involved in some heavy things when she lived in England with her Aunt and Uncle. Things she thought were murdered along with her best friend, things she thought went missing with her boyfriend. Things that followed her to Quantico, Virginia. Previous Chapter~ Next Chapter Chapter Warnings: digging into the lives of the deceased,

________________________________________ The jet took off and we sat down around the laptop to talk to Penny, "Alright, I ran background checks on our two victims. From what I found their lives were fairly different, Judy Harris worked in accounting for Chicago Public Schools and Bobby Arin was a mechanic at a local auto shop." Penny explained. "Did you check recent purchases on Judy's credit cards to see if she paid for car services?" Derek asks. "That's the thing, when I went to check their recent purchases there was none." I looked up from the files, "What do you mean there were none?" I asked confused, "Exactly what I said, both accounts stop making purchases right around the same time three months ago." She leaned out of frame and came back with a mug in her hands, "Alright Garcia, keep searching for anything that could help." She nods and leaves the call. Hotch turns himself to look at all of us, "Y/L/N and Prentiss I want you to go to the crime scene and try to find anything left behind by our Unsub or by the victims, Rossi and Morgan go to the morgue and talk to the coroner. JJ and Spence try and get in contact with their families and see if they know why they stopped making purchases to their cards. I will head to the station, talk to the chief and set up for us." We nodded and separated for the remainder of the flight. I walked over to the couch and grabbed my blanket that I stash under the seat and sit down. Spence walks over to me and sits on the other side of the couch I pulled my legs onto the couch and laid them across his lap and spread the blanket over both of us. I shuffled around to get comfortable and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep. Ignoring the looks JJ and Emily sent our way. ________________________________________ 5 Years Ago ________________________________________

Rossi decided he wanted to host a party for the team, I had never gone out with the team because I didn't like to party but this was the only exception because only the team would be there. I pulled up to Rossi's house and to say my jaw dropped would be an understatement. I thought my apartment was grand but it was nothing in comparison to David Rossi's mansion like house. I parked next to the other cars in the drive-way and walked towards the front door. I knocked and the door opened revealing a very happy Penelope, "Y/N?! Guys Y/N's here!" I smile at her excitement and she stands aside to let me in. "Wow I never thought I'd see the day my little sister would leave her home and come to a party." Derek jokes from his seat at the table, "Shut up Derek, you know that I hate going to big outings and seeing as it's only the team here I don't see it as a big outing." I responded with a smile. He smirks and turns back to his card game he was playing. I set my coat on the coat rack and walk further into the house, I spot Spencer sitting on the far side of the living room reading a book and I walk over to him. "Whatcha reading Spence?" He looks up and gives me a small smile, "The Fault In Our Stars, I remember you telling me it's your favorite book and I wanted to check it out." I smiled, "When did you start reading it?" He looked back down at the book and smiled a little, "Yesterday evening." I stared at him wide eyed, "And you're already on the last few pages?" He nodded, "I guess no one told you boy genius over there can read like 10,000 words a minute." Rossi pitched in from his kitchen, "It's actually 20,000 words per minute but who's counting." Spence said with a smirk, I kneeled down next to him and poked his face, "You're so lifelike." Derek burst out laughing. Spence swatted my hand away and I sat on the couch next to him while we waited for Rossi to finish cooking. I could used to nights like these. ________________________________________ Taglist~ @sebastiansstanswhore, @itsleilabxtch

[inlovewithgreta]

All You Can Eat — Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Warnings: Praise, cunnilingus, fingering, semi-public sex, etc…

Word Count: 3k

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Today was another day where everyone sat at their desks, pens scribbling away at whatever documents were handed to each and every one of you. Boredom. That was one way you would describe a work day like this. It was your least favorite day at the BAU.

You threw your pen down with a sigh and ran a hand down your face, wiping the small beads of sweat along your forehead. The air conditioners in the office had stopped working the day before and wouldn't be fixed for another few days, making paying attention a whole lot harder when all you wanted to do was rip all of your clothes off.

Looking around, you noticed others either had rolled their sleeves up or unbuttoned a bit of their shirts in hopes of cooling themselves down. You felt bad for Reid as his hair was now grown out and kept falling over his face.

You decided to unbutton a small line of buttons along your shirt, stopping just as a bit of cleavage made itself visible. To help your situation, you also tied your hair up in a high ponytail to get the extra heat off your neck from your hair.

Your actions didn't go unnoticed by your boss when she peered at you through the open shades of her office window. She couldn't help but admire the way your skin had an extra glow from the heat and the way your breasts were just visible enough to her when you bent down in your chair to pick up a stray piece of paper that had fallen on the floor.

A finger ran across her bottom lip when she noticed just how short your skirt was today and how much it rode up your thighs when you sat back with a sigh.

Emily had trouble clearing her racing thoughts that were all about you. She had liked you since you first walked through the doors and made it very clear the first time she had asked you out on a date. You two had since gone out a few times but never made anything official and now, in this moment, she was dying to have you all to herself.

She hastily stood from her desk and made her way towards her door, opening it up the rest of the way to look out at the rest of the team working.

"You guys deserve a well needed break, why don't you all go out and get some lunch, on me. Go to some air conditioned restaurant and take all the time you need. Take Rossi with you too."

The team all whooped loudly, thankful to get out of the oven that was the office and take a break.

Everyone gathered their things to leave for lunch but you stopped in your tracks when Emily called out to you, gaining your attention.

"Yeah?" You look up at the woman leaning against the metal railing in front of her office.

"Will you stay and help me with something? I could use an extra pair of eyes."

"Of course!"

"Derek, bring her back food," Emily orders the man as she hands him her credit card. "And no buying alcohol. We are still on the clock and we are not about to have a repeat of you allowing Spencer to get wasted over bottomless mimosas and bringing him back here when he can barely form a sentence."

The group snickered at the memory of that day you all had to tend to the poor guy.

"Okay, it was one time!" Derek says matter of factly, doing his best to hide his smirk.

"Garcia, I'm putting you in charge." Emily points at the blonde.

"You can count on me, boss lady!" Garcia salutes towards Emily before they all gather in the elevator, leaving you all alone in the office with Emily.

You look over at the woman leaning across the railing, her dark eyes glued onto you as she looks you up and down.

"You don't need my help with work, do you?" You swivel your chair in her direction and cross your legs, giving her the quickest glimpse of your panties just before your leg blocked her view.

"I do need your help with something. Why don't you come step into my office and I'll show you."

You raise a brow when she ever so slightly bites her bottom lip when you stand, purposefully showing off your figure with the tightness of your clothes. You purposefully take your time up the few steps and towards your boss.

"We don't have all day."

"I sense someone is a bit hot and bothered." You innocently say when you reach the brunette standing in the doorway to her office. "Care to share why?"

Emily pulls you into her office the second you get in arm's length, hastily shutting the door behind you and lightly pushing you against it, pressing her body against your own.

"You expect me to focus on my work when you're sitting there looking like this?" She drags a finger down your chest, stopping just above your cleavage.

"So what you're saying is, if I unbutton this a little bit more," You begin to unbutton more of your shirt to reveal a white bra underneath that is covering your breasts. "You'll keep your focus on me?" You look up through your lashes at the woman with not so innocent eyes.

"Always such a fucking tease. . ." Emily growls before colliding her lips with yours, instantly taking your bottom lip between her teeth, eliciting a quiet moan from you.

Emily picks you up by the back of your legs and presses you closer against her as you help hold yourself up by wrapping your legs tightly around her waist.

She breaks the kiss for a breath of air as she leads you away from the door. You gently kiss and nip along her neck and collarbone as she sets you atop her desk.

"Now to get these out of the way. . ." Emily looks down at your half open shirt with your bra poking through. She dips down to finish unbuttoning your shirt and sliding it off your body before gliding her fingers to your back and unclasping your bra before tossing to the side.

"So fucking perfect." She looks down at you in awe as she admires your bare chest.

Emily gently pushes your back along her desk, covering her work, before she brings her lips to your chest, kissing across the bare skin before working her way to your breasts. She instantly attaches to your nipple, pulling the hardened bud between her teeth before soothing it with her tongue.

Your back arched when she gently suckled your bud, pushing your breasts harder against her.

"Emily. . . " Her heated eyes fixate on your own at the use of her name. "What if somebody sees?" You flick your eyes towards the partially opened shades of her window that looks out into the rest of the office.

"We'll have to make this quick then, won't we, beautiful?" She smirks before kissing down your chest, past your navel, and stopping just at the hem of your skirt. Her fingers hook underneath the band before slowly dragging the skirt down, lifting your lower half off the desk to help.

Emily immediately gets to her knees and pulls your body to the edge, giving your clothed center a gentle kiss.

You lean yourself up onto your elbows to watch the raven haired woman kneeling between your legs, gazing at you with her hungry eyes.

She brings her mouth to the top of your panties, pulling the lace between her teeth before slowly dragging it down your legs and dropping it to the floor. Emily helped kick off your heels, dropping them onto the floor before bringing her lips to your ankle and slowly kissing her way up.

She keeps her movements slow and sensual, building up your need for her between your legs. She kisses a trail up your leg, smirking to herself once her eyes make contact with your glistening cunt.

"Mmm, so wet for me already." She lowly chuckles as she hovers just over your center before flattening her tongue to lick a strip up your folds. Emily immediately hummed as her tongue swirled around your clit.

Your head lulled back at the sweet sensation, vision getting hazy when she slowly slid a finger past your entrance. She kept her slow speed, gradually wanting to build the pressure to receive a bigger climax.

"Fuck. . ." You couldn't help but moan out when she added a second finger.

Emily watched as you slowly became undone just by her touch. She loved to watch your bare chest rise and fall with each quickening breath.

"Faster, please—" You begged the woman between your thighs, eyes returning their focus back onto her and locking eyes with a pair of dark lustful ones.

She did just as you asked and increased her speed, curling her fingers just enough to elicit another throaty moan. Her mouth left your clit to suck on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Her teeth just barely grazed the skin before nipping, causing you to audibly gasp. She used her tongue to soothe the now tingling sensation before finding another spot to play with just an inch away.

Emily continued marking across your thigh while her fingers kept at their relentless pace. She took note of the way your eyebrows tightly knitted and the way your hips just slightly bucked.

"You're close." Emily meant to word it as a question but came out more as a fact as she's had more than enough experience with you to tell when you were on the brink of an orgasm.

You nodded your head frantically as you moaned out in pleasure to the newly added thumb.

"Finish for me, my sweet girl." She gave your leg a sweet kiss, her words being the final push to have you writhing beneath her as you came along her fingers with a drawn out moan.

"Yess. . ." Words get caught in your throat as your vision blurred, the ultimate pleasure coursing throughout your body as you threatened your hips to not buck.

Legs were quivering after she helped ride out the high that now left you panting. Emily lapped up your juices, careful with your sensitivity and cleaning you up to her best ability.

"You're always so good at listening to me." She smirked while standing up and wiping her mouth with her thumb.

"I try—" Your voice was cut off by the sound of Emily's cell phone ringing next to your hip. Both of you immediately turn your attention to the illuminated screen that reads 'Derek Morgan'.

He always had impeccable timing with his phone calls. He had once called Emily when she first used her strap on you, and you had to sit there struggling to keep quiet while she was simultaneously on the phone with the man and fucking you at the same time. She admitted to enjoying every second of it as you were never one to be quiet.

She picked up the phone with a sigh as she stood between your legs.

"What did you do?" She immediately assumed the worst.

You can't quite hear his response on the other end, but you notice all of her focus has left you and is now on the man on the other end of the call.

Without hesitation, you slide yourself off Emily's desk, dragging a few papers down along the way but you didn't care as you stood up to quickly unbutton the shirt off the woman in front of you and slide it off her shoulders before falling to your knees and making work on her pants.

Nimble fingers worked at her belt, which immediately brought her attention back to you. She looked down at you with a raised brow while you sat with a devilish smirk on your face as you dropped the belt to the floor to unbutton her slacks.

You blurred out her conversation with Derek as you were too focused on the task at hand.

She kept her dark eyes on you with curiosity and admiration at your boldness as you tugged the fabric down her legs. You rolled your eyes when she used your head for support while she stepped out of her pants and kicked them to the side. You helped her step out of her heels before you placed gentle hands on her hips to guide her down onto the seat behind her.

She was left with nothing but her lavender bra and panties that were perfectly in tone with her skin and you loved the way it hugged her curves perfectly. It was one of your favorite sets of hers and she made it a habit of wearing it often.

Your smirk only grew as you made way between her legs to notice her wetness through the lace on her panties. You hooked your fingers in her panties to move them aside, instantly bringing your fingers to her cunt.

She had to cover her gasp with a cough as she tried to focus on her call with Derek. Two fingers dip past her entrance, curling in an instant to hit her sweet spot. Her grip on her phone tightened as she watched with heated eyes as you attached your mouth to her clit.

Emily's free hand slid through your soft locks, tugging at them with need as she attempted to pull you closer than you already were. She did everything in her power to suppress her moans, having to move the phone away from her as a whimper forced its way through.

"Fuck. . . yes. . ." Emily had only hoped that Derek was too preoccupied with the group to hear her whispers of pleasure.

You flicked and sucked along her sensitive bud as your eyes glued onto her, watching her every reaction to your touches.

"N-no, Derek." Emily had to force out an answer when the man asked if she wanted anything. "Fuck—" She whimpered for only you to hear. "Yes I'm sure!" She raised her voice before hastily hanging up the phone and dropping it to the floor, unable to keep herself quiet any longer.

You were glad there was nobody around as a long drawn out moan from Emily would've been heard from everybody. She was just glad to be off the phone, that way she could prove to you just how good she feels.

"Just just that, babygirl." She cooed as she moved some stray hairs away from your face. "I'm so close—" She softly moaned as you increase your pace.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she became undone before you, her orgasm strongly hitting her like a truck. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting just hard enough to nearly draw blood.

You slowed your pace as you helped her ride out her climax as the wetness from her release covered your fingers. She could barely form a sentence when she had gently grabbed your wrist to pull your hand away from her cunt before she got overstimulated.

She was eager to taste herself along your tongue, quickly pulling you up by your wrist and grabbing the back of your neck to bring your face to her own, crashing your lips together. You instantly moved to straddle her, running your fingers through her raven hair as your tongues met in unison.

You both hummed in approval at your sealed kiss. Her hands slid down your back to grab hold of your ass and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Be mine." She whispered against your lips, breaking from the kiss as she leaned her forehead against your own.

"I'm all yours." You reassured her, bringing your lips back to hers in a heated kiss that got interrupted by the sound of the elevator dinging and the team piling back into the office.

"Shit—" You both swore in unison as you both hopped up to hastily get your clothes back on before anybody looked through the open shades and saw you. You helped each other get redressed, keeping your eyes on Derek as he slowly made his way to you, thankfully being distracted by Garcia.

The two of you looked each other over, fixing yourselves to look just as you did before your activities before separating. Emily quickly made her way to sit behind her desk as you made yourself comfortable on her couch at the opposite end of the room. Both of you sat down just in time as Derek walked past the window and knocked on the door.

Emily spoke out to let him in and Derek's eyes instantly traveled between yours and hers as he took note of your body language and Emily's tell as she was picking at her fingers, and smirking to himself once he profiled the situation.

"I got your favorite, Y/N." He handed you a to-go container that held your lunch that you were no longer hungry for.

"Thanks, Derek." You forced a smile onto your face, avoiding eye contact with the man as he just nodded his head and slipped out as fast as he could, hastily walking back to the group with a massive smirk to share what just happened while everyone was gone.

You and Emily both thought you were in the clear, but with a team full of profilers, it became clear that you two were not so discreet after all when she looked out her window to see numerous heads flick in her direction, each person with a snarky smirk spread across their faces. Emily ran a hand over her face before looking over at you.

"They know." She quietly informed you.

"Shit." You mumbled, leaning yourself back against the soft cushions.

"Shit indeed." Emily replied back, groaning as she laid her head down on her desk, dreading the conversation you two are going to have to have with the team the second you walk out of the room.

[creampuffqueen]

I have got to hear about LOK x Criminal Minds!

thanks for the ask!

this one is probably never gonna be fully written, but it's a fun idea that i like to toss around sometimes! i made it at the height of my criminal minds obsession a couple years back

anyway, here's the makeup of the team + what character they sort of resemble

Lin is Hotch

Tenzin is Rossi (team dad moment)

Asami is Prentiss

Korra is the newest recruit

Mako and Bolin are former beat cops, both similar to Morgan in some ways (Mako being a total badass and Bolin being a flirty goof)

Opal is JJ, the media liason

Wu is Garcia, their technical analyst

i also added in Iroh 2 and his sister, who i named Mizuki. Iroh is former military, and Mizuki is their super genius, aka Reid

i was planning on sort of basing the cases/unsubs they deal with on the antagonists from the show, though i never fully figured out exactly how i wanted to go about doing that

anyway, here's some stuff that i wrote for it, sort of similar to S1E1 of criminal minds :)

“So, you’re FBI, right?” The young woman cooed, twirling a strand of bright red hair around her finger, “What unit do you work for?”  Sitting across the table from her, Bolin Jiang just grinned, “That’s classified, sweetheart.” Not a moment later, a strong hand was ruffling itself through his head of dark hair, followed by a voice of, “Liar. It’s on your credentials, which you have to carry with you at all times. He’s just trying to impress you by being mysterious.” “Mako!” Bolin protested, glaring at his older brother with a pout, “A guy can’t spill all his secrets on a first date!” The redhead sitting at the table looked up to the other man, “Are you FBI as well?” “SSA Mako Jiang, member of the FBI’s behavioral analysis unit.” He pulled his wallet from the inside pocket of his coat, flipping it open to view the credentials that, yes, he had to keep with him at all times.  Bolin just sighed and rolled his eyes, “Ginger, meet my brother, Mako. We work together. On the same team.” “Unfortunately,” Mako fake sighed, though he couldn’t really hide the fondness in his voice as he looked over his little brother. “Anyway, we’ve gotta go. Bolin, have you even checked your phone?” “What-” The young man was cut off as Mako showed him his own phone, and the text it had received.  “I’m getting everyone else together. They’re all partying so hard they probably haven’t gotten the texts or calls either.” Bolin sighed, but made his goodbyes with Ginger and followed Mako through the crowded bar. “You only noticed because you’re so antisocial and spend the entire time against a wall instead of enjoying yourself.” Mako ignored the dig, used to Bolin’s half-hearted insults, and stalked through the bar, looking out for the rest of their team. They weren’t all together tonight, but Iroh and Asami were around here somewhere, and if they found Iroh they found Mizuki, and then they could all head to the office. Despite this bar not being one of their usual haunts, Mako was still able to track down his teammates fairly easily. Asami was at the bar, as expected, smiling at all the men crowded around her, vying for her attention. Mako had to admit, it was kind of satisfying to sidle up to her and show her his phone, instantly putting all her attention on him. He could practically feel the disappointment radiating off the other men.  “Sorry I missed that, I was a bit distracted,” Asami apologized, passing the bartender her credit card to pay off the tab.  “No problem. We don’t usually get called in this late, so it’s gotta be important.” Mako turned to his brother. “You stay here, I’ll go grab Iroh and see where Mizuki is.” As expected, Iroh was on the dance floor, making himself known to men and women alike. Asami rarely danced at bars, used to the serenity and order of ballroom dancing, but Iroh had to be dragged away most nights. Likely had something to do with being in the military for so many years. Of course, Mako never asked.

thanks again for the ask!!

[imagines--galore]

||Mind Over Matter|| Part Seven

Summary:  Evelyn is Penelope Garcia’s protégé. She is a tech  wiz, and knows her  way around any kind of security and just like her  mentor knows how to  dig deep and get into the past of anyone and has a  knack for anything  with a chip in it. Including potato chips. The one  thing she fails at  is figuring out is the mind and how it works. Rated T  for blood and   language.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Evelyn Richardson(OC)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. Family. Some language, blood and violence in later installments.

Previously - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Takes place during Episode Eight, Nine and Ten, Season One.

The little girl ran across the lawn, her giggles echoing all around her as she looked over her shoulder at the man who was chasing her, his own laughter ringing around the small clearing. He caught up to with the little girl and grabbed her from behind, lifting her up into the air, ignoring her shrieks as he dug his fingers into her sides, tickling her. The girl kicked out her leg, making the man loose his balance and they both tumbled to the ground.

Laughing and breathless they sat up. Blue eyes shone bright with happiness as they looked up adoringly at the man before the girl launched herself into his arms hugging him tightly. The man smiled softly and lovingly down at the girl, hugging her back while his other hand caressed the top of her head. As if sensing someone looking at him he looked up towards the old Tudor house just in time to see a pair of eyes disappear behind a curtain.

His smile fell into a sad frown as he glanced down at the little girl, still hugging him, her breathing evening out as she slowly fell into dreamland, oblivious to the world around her.

                                             ————————–

Evelyn's eye twitched for the fifteenth time when once again Spencer leaned down next to her to look at whatever she was doing on the computer.

"Spencer. You're breathing on my neck." She grumbled, irritation lacing her voice as her fingers flew over the keyboard as she worked. Next to her Penelope snorted back a laugh while Spencer stepped back quickly.

"Sorry." He apologized quickly, knowing how the red head could get when it came to her working space. Behind them Elle walked through the door.

"You three having fun?" She asked, in a slightly teasing tone. Penelope replied before Evelyn could.

"Oh, yeah. Sifting through the life and times of Freddy Condore with Dr. Reid here is a party we wouldn't want to miss." Reid frowned, while Evelyn without even glancing up at the female agent, pointed at Reid.

"Especially when the favors include him breathing down my neck every few minutes." Elle pursed her lips to keep herself from smiling, while Spencer muttered an apology again. She narrowed her eyes as she squinted at the screen trying to make out what was written there.

"I need to get my eyes checked again." She grumbled, pulling off her glasses and cleaning the glass with a corner of her cardigan. Pushing them back into place her blue eyes scanned the screen in front of her.

"Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in fells point." Penelope summarized from what she had dug up on the man.

"In, expensive woman." Evelyn muttered under her breath as she took in how much was spent on said women.

"What about his associates?" Elle asked standing next to Penelope.

"Most of them have criminal records." Spencer answered. The agent gave him a look.

"That much I guessed." She said in a tone that made Evelyn snigger. Spencer took no notice as he kept talking.

"But one of them is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet." He requested while Evelyn complied, bringing up the required document. Penelope turned in her chair so that she was facing Evelyn's computer as well.

"He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for- and this is in order- armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rape." He read from the screen leaning over Evelyn's shoulder to get a better look at the screen. The red head's eyes followed every word written on the list as Reid read it out loud.

"But there's no other sexual assault complaints in his file." Elle noted as she finally seemed to catch up to what the young agent was trying to say.

"Absolutely nothing." Spencer agreed, glancing up at Elle as he did. "I told you it was interesting."

"What's so interesting about that?" Penelope asked thoroughly confused glancing at her partner who simply shrugged in confusion.

Reid leaned back into his chair as he began to explain. "When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history-it just isn't probable."

Evelyn turned in her seat so that she would be able to listen to him properly. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes? It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder. It just does not make sense."

The red head frowned lightly at the explanation turning back to her computer. "Unless someone made that rap sheet up and they weren't thinking about that kind of behavior." She said, more for her understanding then making a fact.

"They just plugged in whatever sounded good." Elle concluded the pieces finally forming a picture in her head. There was a sudden beep and Penelope turned to her computer.

"Hold on. His mug shot's coming up."

The four of them waited in quite anticipation as the photograph loaded. As soon as it did, Penelope held up the sketch the police had gotten from the description next to the picture on the screen.

It was a perfect match.

Elle whipped out her phone, speed dialing Hotch's number. "I got an address for you to hit."

                                             ————————–

"Daddy!" The little girl ran through the house calling for her father. She frowned when she didn't get an answering call back when she usually did. Quickly running to the big television room as she called it, she pushed open the door, her blue eyes roaming over the feed from the surveillance camera's that had been set all over the house. Not finding what she was looking for, the little girl turned, running out of the room and scrambling up the stairs, stumbling over her feet in her haste. Coming to the first door on the landing she reached up and knocked smartly. She clasped her hands behind her back as she waited for the door to open. She could hear the sound of footsteps behind the door before it was opened by a blonde girl teenage girl. Her forehead creased in a frown as she caught sight of the little girl standing over the threshold.

"What do you want, brat?" She asked, her green eyes narrowing. The little girl took no notice of the hostile vibes coming off from the girl instead she smiled politely as she looked up at the much taller girl from her small height.

"I am sorry for disturbing you Diana. But could you tell me where Daddy went?" She asked. If it were possible the Diana's green eyes darkened at the simple inquiry.

"I don't know where he is and I don't care." She spat out, pushing past the little girl and making her way down the stairs. The little girl frowned as she followed after her.

"Why not? He is your Daddy too." She called, following after her sister down the stairs. The blonde girl suddenly whirled around, anger shining in her eyes.

"He is not my father." She screamed, the malice clear and sharp in her tone making the younger girl flinch back. Her bottom lip trembled, her crystal blue eyes filling with tears, but they didn't fall.

"B-but you're my sister." She protested, blinking to hold back the tears. The older girl moved forward, glaring down at the girl from her tall stature, lashing out at her and hitting the little girl across the cheek. The force of the slap sent the girl to the floor where she lay, cradling her stinging cheek, looking up at the furious blonde, as tears streamed down her chubby cheeks.

"Don't you ever call me sister again. Do you understand?!" With a parting glare the older girl left, disappearing down the corridor, leaving her younger sister crying on the floor.

                                             ————————–

Evelyn paced the length of the small office, chewing on her fingers as she did, her posture tense and her features worried. Her mentor was no better. Penelope kept glancing at the clock before before going back to reading her computer screen to whatever page she had opened. Evelyn wasn't really paying any attention to what it was. She sighed in frustration as she glanced at the clock for what felt like the fifteenth time in the last few minutes, stopping mid pace.

"Why aren't they back yet?" She muttered, her frustration clear in her tone. The blonde glanced up at the red head, giving a small sympathetic smile.

"They'll be back Sweetheart. You saw them, they're all fine." She reassured the young woman, knowing how antsy she got whenever one of the Team Members was in danger. Evelyn nodded, as she resumed her pacing.

"I know. I know. But I won't be fully reassured until I've seen them for myself." She flopped down into her chair letting her head rest in her hands, as she rested her elbows on her thighs.

"Well the office is empty and I'm done with my work." Her mentor said, getting up from her chair as she did. "What do you say the two of us have some of that scrumptious cheesecake you made?"

Evelyn followed after the hacker, halfheartedly. The bullpen was empty since it was almost one in the morning but the two of them had decided to stay back and wait for their Team to get back from the train hostage rescue.

"When that idiot genius comes back I'm gonna be giving him a piece of my mind." She grumbled under her breath as the two of them stood at her bullpen desk, eating the cake. Penelope made and agreeing sound that came out slightly muffled because of the cake in her mouth but she nodded to show her consent.

"Do whatever you want to him. Honestly I can't believe Gideon would let him go in like that." She noted, taking another bite. Evelyn pierced her cake, stabbing her fork into it.

"Thats because he's the only idiot genius who knows how to do a stupid trick." She growled, before switching the topic over to Elle.

"And I am making sure that the next time Elle gets on a train there is no psychotic patient or any kind of threat that boards the train with her." She pointed her fork at her mentor as she continued.

"Background checks on each and every on of the passengers." Penelope only nodded in agreement, since she was only half listening as she cut herself another slice of cheesecake.

"Its nice to see you care so much about little old me Evelyn."

Mentor and Protege turned to see the Team walking in, tired but alive. Evelyn placed a hand on her hip as the Team approached her desk.

"Yeah well somebody has to make sure you lot don't just waltz into trouble." She commented as Penelope walked forward pulling the dark haired agent in a hug.

"I mean Morgan got slashed by the Fox," She gestured towards the tall agent who had made a beeline for the cake as soon as he saw it.

"You were taken hostage by a psychotic person." She continued as she too hugged the agent, her heart considerably lighter at seeing her friend safe. Glancing at Spencer as he walked in beside JJ, she frowned walking over to him. She reached up, hitting him on the side of his head, making him cry out and massage the area while JJ was torn between looking amused and a little frightened at the anger vibes the red head seemed to be emitting.

"And you are supposed to be the genius and yet you get yourself tangled up into a hostage situation." The rest of the Team had already gathered around the small cluttered desk, eating the cake Evelyn had brought. The red head was always bringing in cakes and desserts whenever she made them since she had no one else to share them with. Besides, Evelyn loved to see her Team enjoy whatever she made.

Spencer scowled in confusion. "Weren't you watching the video feed? I went in to save Elle." He countered, not even noting as JJ watched the two of them intensely. Evelyn rolled her eyes.

"I know you did, lughead. This is a normal way of my showing a person that I was worried about them." She gestured towards herself and then to him. Spencer raised an eyebrow.

"What hitting them over the head?" JJ snorted back a laugh while Evelyn slapped a hand to her forehead, sighing.

"Just go get some cake. And be careful next time." She added tiredly at the end as she too shuffled towards her desk. Spencer looked over at the blonde standing next to him.

"What was that about?" He asked, still confused. This time JJ did laugh as she patted his shoulder.

"You'll understand one of these days Spence." She replied, giving him a small wink, which only added to the confusion already building up in him.

                                             ————————–

The little girl watched as the father picked up his daughter swinging her around in a circle while the mother and brother ran over to them. She smiled as the brother pulled at his father's arm demanding to be picked up as well. But the man simply dropped his daughter and picked up his wife instead, swinging her around in a circle. The wife's shrieks echoed all around while the children cheered them on.

The little girl's eyes roamed around the small playground watching the families sitting around or playing about. Fathers and mothers. Brothers and sisters. They all looked so happy. They all looked so loved.

She didn't have a mother. Her sister hated her. Her father was barely around. But when he was, she treasured every single moment that she could get. She was just nine years old but she knew that love was something that would not come easy for her. If her mother had not cared enough about her to stay then perhaps she was not worth loving.

Pushing her legs slightly under her, to make the swing go back and forth, the little blue eyed girl simply sat there taking in the families as they ran and played about the park.

                                             ————————–

"Spencer! Hey Spence!"

At the sound of his name Reid turned to see a figure running across the parking lot towards him.

"Oh hey Evelyn." He called out in greeting as she skidded to a stop next to him, slamming into his car as she did. He winced at the thud reaching forward to place a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back slowly.

"You alright?" He asked, his eyes roaming over her looking for any visible injuries. The red head shook her head rummaging through her bag as she did.

"I'm alright. I'm alright." She insisted as she pushed aside her things, looking for a particular item. The young doctor raised an eyebrow as she finally emerged from the seemingly endless depths of her messenger bag a small book in her hand. She held it out for him.

"Here." She said, still slightly breathless from her run. Spencer took the book from her, which was actually an album for photos. He glanced up at her for a second before opening it to the first page. His eyes widened slightly at the picture that stared back at him.

It was a photograph from his birthday just a couple of months ago. Everybody was in it. Including Gideon and Hotch. And they were both smiling lightly as they stood just next to his desk, while he sat in the chair of honor, right in front of the cake, smiling nervously as he always did, he figured. Behind him stood Morgan and JJ, also smiling while Elle stood to the side since Evelyn was standing right next to him smiling her usual smile. None of them were looking at the camera since none of them had known it was there.

Spencer glanced up at his friend. "Whats this?" He asked. Evelyn shrugged.

"Morgan told me about the nightmares you were getting." She smiled at the groan he gave. Promising silently to himself never to tell Morgan about anything ever again he nodded, sighing in a slightly defeated manner.

"Yeah." He admitted, nodding. "But Gideon helped me out with that."

His friend nodded hurriedly. "I know he did. But I wanted to help out because I know how nightmares can get." Her lips pulled into a sad smile as she continued.

"I get them too sometimes." Silence fell between the two friends before Evelyn shook her head beginning to speak again.

"And whenever I get them I wake up and I turn the lamp on and take out this album I've been putting together for almost two years. And I flip through all the photographs I've taken over the year and it helps me...a lot." He gave a small smile noticing how her cheeks reddened lightly from revealing the little secret. She paused for a second before continuing, gesturing to the album he was still clutching.

"So I thought maybe if you start putting together some of your own photographs in there it might help." She muttered the last part, making her smile at how shy she was being, even after knowing him for almost three years. He glanced down at the album, already thinking of all the pictures he would be putting into his new album.

"Thanks Evelyn." He said, his heart warming at seeing her eyes light up just as brightly as her smile as she looked up at him. He couldn't help but mirror that smile.

"I'm sure this will help me."

His friend nodded, still smiling before she checked her watch.

"I have to go now, but I have a couple of pictures that I think you might like so I'll bring the by the office tomorrow and you can put them in." She gestured towards the album. He nodded, waving goodbye as she walked over to her car.

As he drove home that day, Spencer couldn't help but think that he really was lucky to have people like Morgan and Gideon as well as the rest of the Team who looked out for him. But Evelyn, he smiled warmly at the thought of the bespectacled blue eyed red head.

She was something else.

                                             ————————–

Tag List - @lovelyygirl8

[aperrywilliams]

Birthday Wish (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credit to the creator)

Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Being in love with your best friend sometimes leads you to test the limits. Maybe you’re not as much in the friend zone as you thought.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: This one is a softy. Tits are mentioned once (as a joke), and a boner is mentioned once, too (not explicit).

A/N: This one is about typical friends in love. I’m a sucker for that trope, and I’m sorry (no, I’m not sorry). Do you want to be added to the taglist? Go HERE

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*Reader’s POV*

Being in love with your best friend seems like a typical rom-com trope. I knew that. But not falling for Spencer wasn’t an option for me. I never stood a chance of thwarting that.

He’s sweet and handsome. By far, the most fascinating and intelligent guy I have known.

Maybe his social skills don’t go too far, but neither do mine. I guess that’s one of the reasons why we find a connection so quickly.

I joined the team four years ago and have been in love with Spencer since three.

My feelings have not gone unnoticed. By now, I think the whole team knows, except for Spencer himself.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to think he hasn’t realized it yet. Perhaps he is trying to avoid telling me he only sees me as a friend. Maybe the truth is he pretends to be oblivious, so he doesn’t hurt my feelings.

I don’t know what is worst, honestly.

But all the jokes or pep talks from Penelope, Emily, and JJ aside, I can’t bring myself to get my confession out with him.

Right now, I’m in Garcia’s with Prentiss, sharing a bottle of wine as I complain about my bad luck in the love department.

But the ladies don’t give up on me.

“Do what?!” I almost spilled the wine in my mouth at Garcia’s words.

“You did hear me, sugar plump. Just tell him. Boy genius is so oblivious that if you don’t tell him directly, he won’t notice. Unless you shove your tits in front of his face,” Garcia pointed. Emily snorted at the idea.

“Pen! Come on,” I groaned, sipping my wine to hide the crimson tinting my cheeks.

“Actually, it is not a bad option,” Prentiss prompted, backing up Garcia.

“What are you guys talking about? You know I can’t tell him! It would ruin our friendship.”

“You don’t know that!” Garcia squealed.

“Why don’t you test him? So you can be sure about his feelings, uh?” Emily suggested.

“And how do I do that?”

The only thing I thought to do was to tell him some way, but I would never dare to do it at this point.

“Have you flirted with him before? Acting all seductive?” Prentiss questioned. I narrowed my eyes, thinking about what the point was.

“No. Why should I?”

“Oh, come on. Then how do you know Spencer only sees you as a friend if you haven’t tried that yet? I mean, he’s a guy after all,” she shrugged.

I did know that. But it’s Spencer. He’s not like any other guy.

God, they are making me doubt and giving me hope for something I knew was impossible.

“I don’t know, Em. I mean, yeah, I had played the coquette card before but never with Spencer,” I stated, sipping my wine.

“Well, it’s time to try it then,” Garcia put a hand on my shoulder to give seriousness to her statement.

Jeez, what I’m about to do?

The plan was simple. I would start flirting with Spencer at every chance I could have and notice his reaction.

Yeah, very simple. For them, because for me, it was like being another person.

First attempt. One afternoon, I spotted Spencer at his desk with no coffee. Moving faster, I fixed a mug and strolled to him. Setting the item on the desk, he perked up his head to look who had left the precious liquid there.

“Hey, handsome. I thought that beautiful brain of yours could need this,” I said cockily. At the pet name, he narrowed his eyes but smiled nonetheless. It’s not that I never make coffee for him, but I usually just set the cup, point out how exhausted he looks, and leave.

“Uh- thank you.”

What now? Should I make small talk? He’s looking at me as if I want to say something. Shit. What do I do now?

“You’re welcome,” was the only thing I let out, quickly sneaking to the other side of the bullpen. I didn’t dare to look back at him. My cheeks were burning, and I was sure anyone could see it.

I tried again days later. We were in the jet, and I sat in front of Spencer. He was reading a book, and when he noticed my presence, he looked at me with a smile.

Fuck, every time I see that smile, my knees go weak.

“I didn’t see that one before,” I pointed. Spencer checked his outfit to realize I was talking about his purple cardigan.

“Oh, this one. Yeah. It’s new.”

“It looks great on you. It’s a color that suits you, you know?” I complimented, winking at him.

Spencer frowned with his cheeks a tint of pink.

“Thank you. I guess the others don’t look too good then,” Spencer deduced.

My eyes widened at the implication.

“No. No. No. That wasn’t what I wanted to say. I mean, you look good in every outfit. No matter what you wear, you’re attractive nonetheless.”

What am I saying, for the love of God!

“It’s not that I think you’re attractive. I mean, you clearly are. But it’s not what I notice about you all the time.”

Spencer tried to follow my speech as I stumbled over my words, but he seemed confused. I couldn’t blame him.

“Uh, I think I need to check the files from this case. Sorry.” I said as I hastened to move to the other side of the jet, hiding my face behind a manila folder.

I tried a few more times, but it was a waste of time. Every flirtatious comment or compliment didn’t have the desired effect. Spencer would be thinking I’m weird by now. And he would be right because I do feel weird.

-

“What do you mean by touching him?”

“Like something he could notice as different. Little touches, something subtle but he can Feel,” Emily suggested when I recounted my previous unsuccessful shots.

It seemed a bad idea, but I was already into this. And I must admit I was curious to know what Spencer was thinking.

It’s not that I didn’t touch him before, but I always do it with a friendly hug or squeezing his shoulder or arm.

Risky? Yes. But what could I lose? Besides embarrassing myself in front of Spencer and ending up being the idiot in love with her best friend who gets rejected by him.

We were on a case in Texas. Hotch assigned Spencer and me to the geographic profile. We were alone in the meeting room working. When he was drawing lines on the map, I subtly brushed his hand with mine pointing to some streets. He didn’t notice, so I did it again some minutes later.

“So what about these?” I asked. Spencer went silent for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat.

Shit. He noticed. Was he annoyed?

“Uh - yeah. It could be,” Spencer mumbled.

Was he nervous? Fuck. I couldn’t decipher his body language—what a waste of profiler I am.

Still, if I couldn’t know what was in Spencer’s mind, I knew my advances didn’t go unnoticed.

I confirmed it one afternoon when he left the precinct for a witness interview, and I needed to fill him with some last info. Without other thought, I ran and stopped him grabbing his hand.

I could feel how he froze on the spot before turning to see me.

His eyes darted to my hand holding his. Out of instinct, I retreated mine, blushing furiously.

His mouth opened and closed several times before saying a word.

“Is - uh. Is something wrong?” He asked, confused.

“Uh- sorry. It’s about Robertson’s daughter,” I clarified quickly so the awkward moment could be forgotten soon.

And so on. I think I lost count of the times I did things like that in the following weeks, and I only got a nervous Spencer and nothing in conclusion. Or rather, a single one conclusion: I was making things odd between us. Now it was common to see him stutter and blush around me.

Our movie nights turned kind of awkward too. Several times I could see Spencer inspecting me from the corner of my eyes. But he never said anything. Anything at all.

I was so frustrated that my only explanation was I fell into the friend zone for the rest of eternity.

Garcia, Prentiss, and JJ didn’t know how to cheer me up.

The idea of ​​a girls’ night came up, but I wasn’t really in the mood. Also, my birthday was just some weeks ahead, and I wasn’t in a celebration spirit this year.

“Nope. We are not going to let you get all blue for love. If he didn’t do anything for you at this point, it’s because he doesn’t deserve you. You will celebrate your birthday, and you will have a great time. We’re going to take care of that,” Penelope stated. Emily and JJ nodded in agreement. And even if I didn’t like the idea, I had no energy to argue with them.

To say that Garcia got away organizing my birthday is nothing next to all that fact entailed. First, she convinced me to have a party in a fancy club in DC, where she rented a VIP area. Also, she invited the entire sixth floor of the FBI headquarters. Finally, with the girls’ help, she made sure I chose the sexiest outfit in my wardrobe.

Although initially I felt a little overwhelmed, later I said to myself, ‘what the hell?’

I deserved to have fun and enjoy the night.

With Spencer or without him there.

********

*Spencer’s POV*

Clubs have never been my scene. It’s weird to say it in that way. Not that I have a ‘scene’ I feel comfortable with. I just like simple things. Reading a book or watching a movie with (Y/N) it’s enough for me.

But tonight I had to be here. It’s (Y/N)’s birthday, and for some reason, she wanted to celebrate in a club.

I should recognize that she’s been acting weird lately, and I don’t know why. Complimenting me for almost anything I say or do and asking me random questions she had never asked. Telling jokes I could not understand, using pet names with me that she had never used before.

She even has touched me more than she usually does.

It’s not that bothers me—quite the opposite. I like having her close. We have been friends for a long time, and how can I explain it? I think I have feelings for her. I mean, she is amazing. How could I not have feelings for her?

Okay. Did I say feelings? Understatement of the century. I love her. That’s it. I am utterly in love with her. That’s the painful truth. Yeah, in love with my best friend.

The worst part is that I know she doesn’t feel the same. And despite Morgan’s encouragement, I know I don’t stand a chance with her.

How do I know that? It’s easy. For someone as unique as she, I’m just friend material.

That’s why I feel confused about the past weeks. Is (Y/N) acting weird because she knows I love her? And she doesn’t know how to react? Is she trying to be polite, giving me more attention before crushing my heart forever?

It’s painful. Being so close to her and couldn’t do anything about it. It’s so pathetic that my mind started to play tricks on me. Every word, every touch of hers sends to my body waves of electricity that I misread like mutual attraction.

God, I’m doomed to be the eternal friend in love.

But like a good friend, I’m in this club, enduring Morgan’s teasing.

“C’mon, pretty boy. You should tell her. All that you already told me? I think it is a good sign. She likes you back,” Derek insisted for the umpteenth time.

“No, Morgan. I know I’m misinterpreting the whole thing. She only sees me as a friend,” I clarified, sipping my scotch.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Reid. Why is it so difficult to believe that she could like you back?”

“Because she doesn’t. Period. And please, I don’t want to keep talking about it,” I grumbled. Morgan held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay. Okay. Don’t get mad at me. I’m just saying that-” He trailed off as his eyes got lost in something happening behind me.

“Wow,” Morgan exhaled, now openly focusing on the entrance. I turned to see what caught his attention, and I saw her.

I think my heart stopped for a couple of seconds.

She looked so stunning walking into the club. I’m sure my head started to spin.

Don’t get me wrong. For me, (Y/N) is always the most beautiful girl in the room. Gorgeous. Flawless.

But tonight, I was dazzled by her. And I don’t think that was the perfect word to describe it, honestly.

Dressed in a tight black dress with a revealing neckline, she pared the outfit with heels that spotlighted her legs - legs I shouldn’t be looking so focused.

Once she spotted us, a warm smile formed on her lips. God, those lips. They were tinted in dark red lipstick.

“Man, you have to make a move on her. You are going to lose your chance if you don’t,” Derek advised. He was right, but how could I? I didn’t want to be rejected. Not by her.

“Hey guys,” she greeted.

“Hey, little mama. Happy birthday!” Morgan cheered, hugging her.

I was so dumbfounded that I thought I could faint.

“I’m happy you could make it,” she said, now looking at me, arms open for a hug.

Did she really want to see me there? Sure, you foolish. You’re her friend. But remember, just her friend.

“Of course. I couldn’t miss your birthday party. Happy birthday, by the way,” I responded, hugging her tightly.

It was true; I needed to be there even if my mind wandered about her having fun with other people who weren’t me.

Am I a masochistic bastard? Yes. I am.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” she thanked me once we parted from our embrace.

I could have melted on the spot just from that couple of seconds in her arms.

Get your shit together, Reid.

Before I could say anything else, the rest of the team approached to welcome the birthday girl.

********

*Reader’s POV*

I tried not to focus so hard on Spencer. I tried. But he looked so good that my eyes couldn’t stop darting to him. When I entered the club, he and Morgan were the first ones I greeted, but for some reason, Spencer looked tense. Indeed, he looked tense most of the night. I intended not to think too hard about that, so I decided to have fun. It was my birthday. Right?

But I couldn’t stop wondering whether tonight would be even better if I could hang out with him like we were a couple. Being able to hug him lovingly and kiss him. God, how I wish I could kiss this man. Unfortunately, the reality was different. And that birthday wish would never come true in my life.

Assuming my defeat, I tried to take Penelope’s advice, and after ordering a few drinks, I headed out to the dance floor with the girls. Derek was the only one who followed us and started dancing with us.

Spencer sat in the booth, nursing a glass of whiskey. After a while, I stopped looking at him and began to feel the eyes of several men. It was strange because I don’t particularly appreciate having so much attention on me, but it felt good now. It felt good to be admired and noticed. Something I wish I had from someone else, but hey, that’s the way it is.

As the night progressed, my feet started to hurt. Dancing wasn’t something I liked too much, but liquor encouragement helped. At some point, I needed a break, so I headed to the bar to grab a drink.

Waiting for the barman to give me my tequila, I spotted Spencer in the same booth he was in before. He was alone, focused on his empty glass. I felt kind of bad because it was clear he wasn’t having fun. I knew Spencer doesn’t like clubs. I’m not too fond of clubs as well, but I gave in on Pen’s idea. After asking the barman for another drink, I strolled to where Spencer was, settling a scotch on the table for him and my tequila.

“Maybe you need this,” I pointed. Spencer looked at me and chuckled.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, grabbing the glass and sipping.

“Do you mind if I join?” I asked cautiously. It wasn’t my intention to mess with him. I already assumed my defeat.

“Of course not. Please.” he gestured to the seat. “Having fun?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I responded. Not so convincing, though. “And you?”

“Same,” he replied, darting his eyes to his glass.

Why didn’t he want to look at me anymore? Why was everything so awkward between us now? I hated this and didn’t know how to fix it. I should never have listened to the girls with this. But the damage was done, and I had to clear things up with Spencer.

I took a deep breath and jumped into the void.

“What’s wrong, Spencer? Did I do something bad to you?”

Spencer’s eyes snapped from his glass to me.

“What? No!” He squealed.

“So what happens? I see you constantly nervous around me, and we don’t talk like we used to. Please tell me if I did something wrong so I can fix it. I miss you,” I recognized, feeling my eyes going glassy.

“Trust me. You haven’t done anything wrong. Seriously,” Spencer stated. I frowned, not quite believing what he was saying.

“But something is up. Are you okay? Can I help you? You know you can trust me.” I insisted.

Spencer sighed as if he was looking for the right words to say.

“It’s just- uh. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m sorry,” he acknowledged, shooking his head.

“Hey, you can tell me,” I encouraged, scooting to his side and squeezing his forearm to reassure him.

Spencer’s eyes met mine, and we stared for a few seconds. I was hoping he could say what was in his head, but I could only watch as he began to shudder and stutter. I could swear I saw him turn white, even in the club’s darkness.

“Are you okay? You look pale,” I pointed, now touching his forehead.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Me? Oh, no, no. I’m okay. Uh, it just- uh, maybe the alcohol makes me feel dizzy?” And without prompting, he stood from his seat. I looked at him for some clarification.

“Spencer?”

“Uh- I think I need some air. I’m sorry.” He apologized, walking away in the exit direction.

If I was confused at the beginning, now it was worse.

Besides losing the chance to have the man of my dreams, I had now lost my best friend. Great!

What else could go wrong tonight? Wiping away the tears beginning to fall from my eyes, I finished drinking my tequila before heading back to where the rest of the team was.

What did it matter if my feet hurt? Maybe swapping one pain for another might do the trick.

********

*Spencer’s POV*

I was feeling dizzy, but the alcohol did nothing to do with that. It was because of her so close to me.

Smelling her perfume only made things worse. My thoughts wandered to scenarios where I could get lost in her fragrance, smelling every portion of her skin. God, if only I had the chance, I swear I would worship every part of her like the deity she is.

Those lewd thoughts made me so bothered that I could barely conceal the heat running through my body. Suddenly my pants felt embarrassingly tighter.

And then she asked me what was wrong. Fuck, she noticed, and now she wanted to know. I couldn’t admit the truth. I couldn’t say it when I was feeling the way I did.

I had to get out of there before I made a fool of myself. Without warning, I jumped from my seat.

“Spencer?”

“Sorry. I - uh. I need some air. I’m sorry,” I stuttered as I struggled to move to the exit.

The cold outside helped calm me down but, at the same time, made me realize what I had just done. I practically ran away, leaving (Y/N) possibly confused and upset.

I screwed it up.

I thought about going home. I didn’t dare go back to the club to explain something I didn’t even know how to explain.

I’m a fucking coward. That was the right moment to say everything. To confess my love.

Defeated, I sat on the sidewalk to lament my lack of courage while I saw couples making out around me.

I owed her an explanation. At this point, I didn’t know which was better, so I stood outside the club waiting for the first thing to happen: see her or freeze to death.

The cold was nothing compared to my regret. While in my head, I tried to think of what to say to her. Just in case she walked out that door. I was about to give up and go home.

Then I heard her voice.

“Spencer? I thought you left.”

I quickly got up from the sidewalk, brushing the dirt off my pants.

“Uh – well, I needed some air,” I repeated the same thing I said before.

“But it’s freezing here, and it���s been at least an hour,” she pointed, checking her watch.

“Kind of. But I’m okay. Are you leaving? It’s still early,” I asked, with my hands stuffed in my pockets.

“I - uh. Yeah. I know.”

There was something on her face that I didn’t expect to see. It wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t confusion. It was sadness. It broke my heart to notice it. She looked sad on the night she was supposed to enjoy and be happy. Was it my fault? I didn’t want to be self-centered, but I guess my erratic behavior wasn’t helping the cause.

Spencer Reid, you must apologize.

“I want to say I’m sorry. We were talking, and I just stood and left. It wasn’t right,” I said, taking a step closer. (Y/N) shook her head.

“It’s okay. I know I’ve made you uncomfortable,” she shrugged, playing with her purse’s strap.

“What? No! What do you mean?” I hastened to refute.

She did nothing incorrect. It’s been only me acting like an idiot all the time!

“Spencer, please don’t make me say it,” she grumbled, averting her gaze.

To say what exactly? Now, this was getting confusing for me.

“I’m sorry, but I’m lost. You did nothing wrong there,” I assured her.

“So why you left?”

“Uh. Well, I - I was-”

“Uncomfortable. I know,” she insisted.

“Yeah, but that was nothing to do with-” I tried to explain.

“I shouldn’t have listened to the girls,” she said under her breath, but I heard it.

“What?”

She sighed, a sad smile forming on her lips.

“What I have been doing in the past weeks. The flirting. All of it. I’m so stupid. I just thought- I don’t know.” My eyes widened. Wait, she said flirt?

“It’s silly. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I won’t do it again,” she apologized, turning to walk away.

“(Y/N), wait!”

I stopped her holding her wrist gently. She turned to look at me again. Her cheeks were flushed red. I didn’t know if it was a mixture of cold or mortification.

“You – you were actually flirting with me?” I questioned, looking into her eyes.

“Spencer, please don’t play games with me. I’m really not in the mood,” she complained.

“I’m honestly asking. I don’t want to annoy you. Were you consciously flirting with me?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to determine if my question was genuine.

“Yes. That’s not the reason why you were awkward?” She asked, frowning.

“I mean, yeah. But because I thought it was my brain playing tricks. Why in the earth would you want to flirt with me?” I clarified. She scoffed.

“Are you kidding me right now? Spencer, I - ” she paused, looking afraid of what she wanted to say.

I expectantly waited for her to continue.

“Fuck it,” she cursed under her breath before looking into my eyes. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been from the moment I met you. It’s just that I admitted it to myself four years ago.”

“You- in love – with me?”

I think I might have passed out right then and there.

I was not giving credit to what I was hearing. Not in my wildest dreams would I have expected it.

“Yeah. And I didn’t know if I was misinterpreting our friendship. So I wanted to see if you felt something, but I ruined it. I know you don’t feel the same,” she lamented, with tears running down her cheeks.

“What? No! What are you talking about? It’s the opposite, actually!” I hastened to say.

I was ready to shout it from the rooftops.

“How is that?”

With a big smile on my lips, I took her hands in mine and squeezed them. She looked at me strangely.

“I love you. I fucking love you! Since- I don’t know – forever? Maybe the day you passed the glass doors in the bullpen for the first time. But I never dared to say anything because I thought you only saw me as a friend. And I was willing to live with that only to have you in my life,” I confessed.

She squeezed her eyes, trying to make sense of my words.

“Are you really...?”

“Yes! In love with you. Completely, body and soul. I swear,” I acknowledged, bringing one of her hands to my lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Fuck Spencer. I didn’t say anything either because I was sure she didn’t stand a chance with you!” She squealed.

“What good profilers we are, right,” I joked. She laughed.

Without complaining, I could feed on that laugh alone for the rest of my life.

Our eyes met again, and I swear I saw sparks coming out of them.

“God, you are so beautiful. You’re perfect,” I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She blushed, looking down.

“Don’t say that. I’m far from that.”

I put my fingers under her chin to bring her gaze back to me, softly stroking her cheek with my thumb.

“No. You are. You are the kindest woman I know. So brave and smart. Always willing to help and listen. So funny, sexy, and gorgeous. I almost faint seeing you tonight, you know?”

She giggled as her hands rested on my chest.

“It’s good to know I can make you nervous for that reason and not because I’m freaking you out,” she pointed. I chuckled.

“You could never freak me out. I swear,” I declared, still stroking her cheeks and never breaking eye contact. She bit her bottom lip and then sighed.

“I didn’t think this was ever possible. Much less did I think it would be possible tonight,” she acknowledged. I narrowed my eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

“That this looks like a lot like my birthday wish,” she explained.

“Oh yeah? Does it look alike? What it’s missing to be the same as your birthday wish?” I questioned.

“The kissing part,” she giggled. I chuckled—God, how I love this woman.

“Don’t worry; we can fix it.”

Cupping her cheeks, I leaned to brush my lips tentatively over hers. Her arms flew to wrap around my neck as we started to kiss properly. It wasn’t long before our kiss deepened, and we openly started making out outside the club.

Her lips were on mine. It felt like heaven. If it was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.

But the best thing? I knew it was real.

We had nothing to envy of the couples that were around us. This one was our bubble. One that took us too long to fall into, but I never want to get out of again.

------------------

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​​ @nomajdetective​ @jayyeahthatsme​ @rosalinasam2​ @averyhotchner​ @tvandfanfic​​ @lovelyxtom​ @princessmiaelicia​ @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub​ @awesomeness1679​ @alexxavicry​ @gspenc​ @spencerreidisbae123​ @calmspencer​ @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg​ @lilibet261​

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[spookydrreid]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: Flirting with then men at the bar gets you exactly what you want...

Category: SMUT (MINORS DNI)

Requested: Yes

Full request: "Head full of thoughts about mean!dom!reid being super rough with reader after she flirted with someone to make him mad- like spit, hair pulling, degrading, throwing her around a bit, all of the nice spicy works we love so much. But then giving so much aftercare and calling her his good, pretty, little girl and telling her how much he loves her whilst giving her a bath" - anon

Requests are open!

Content Warnings: flirting, jealous!Spencer, d/s dynamic, ownership, spanking (with belt), hair pulling, spitting, kissing, degradation, some praise, daddy kink, pet names, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare. [Let me know if I missed anything]

Word count: 3.1k

...

Going out was rare for Spencer and I.

Spencer wasn’t a huge fan of bars and clubs, complaining of all the germs they breed. Not to mention that planning said night out was made almost impossible by Spencer’s job. He was gone a lot, catching the bad guys and doing his best to keep this world safe.

But after a rough case, the team decided a night out was needed. So, that’s why I’m standing at the bar, Spencer’s credit card in hand, waiting for the bar tender to notice me. And while my mind should’ve been focused on getting said bar tender’s attention, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering to the man I showed up with.

Around his friends, Spencer was the quiet kind. Sweet and reserved for the most part. But in bed or with me, he was a very different man. See, Spencer craved control as it was something he lacked in a large majority of his life. Before me, he found that control in his work, studying and putting away the people who did the unspeakable.

But now, he found the control in me.

To most, that sounds terrible; letting your fiancé control almost every aspect of your life. But to me, it was amazing. He made the choices for me within the barriers we’d set. He cared about how I felt, constantly asking me if I was still okay with his control. And I was. He was soft a large majority of the time. I made sure to keep him on his toes, though. Testing to see how far I could push the boundaries. And tonight, was no different.

Dr. Reid had been giving me a little attitude lately. I knew it was because he was stressed, they were running from state-to-state catching killer after killer. It was exhausting and I knew that. Normally, he would use me to relieve that stress. But my dom, has been slacking. Instead of using me like the slut I am, he settled for quickies.

Now, let’s not get things confused here. I didn’t expect him to fuck me senseless every day, three times a day. I wasn’t delusional. But I did miss it. So, I decided if I wanted him to fuck me till I cried, I needed to make him mad. Spencer wasn’t typically an easy person to piss off. I was a brat, but he was patient. Not soft by any means, just patient.

But one thing he really was? Jealous. Spencer was incredibly jealous and I knew why. He was always the one to be picked last and if he liked a girl, she was almost always stolen from him by another ‘more attractive’ guy. So, he was possessive.

“You are way to pretty to not be here alone.” The pick up like makes me subtly roll my eyes. When were men going to get more creative? But I look over to the source of the noise and put on my prettiest smile.

He’s cute, I’ll give him that. But he definitely wasn’t Spencer Reid. “Aw that’s so sweet of you!” I giggle a little. It’s then that I catch Spencer intently watching me, glass being squeezed tightly as he watches me. We lock eyes and he raises his brows, challenging me to continue.

“So, what are you drinking?” He scoots a little closer and I can smell that he’s doused himself in cologne. It practically chokes me but I smile and try to inch away from him. I wanted to make spencer mad but I didn’t want to actually touch this slimy man who looked like he could roofie me.

“A Cosmo.” As if on cue the drink appears in front of me. I smile and just as I’m about to pay, the man beside me interjects.

“Pretty ladies don’t pay for their own drinks” it makes me want to punch him in the face. But I thank him and let him spend the $6 on me. More money is Spencer’s pocket after all. “What’s your name?” Ah, the age-old question. But it was one I didn’t get to answer.

“Bunny,” his hand wraps around my waist and he pulls me in. I can feel the butterflies erupt in my stomach at his touch. His little pet name making my heart race. He barely ever called me by my real name anymore, but I love it that way.

I smile up at him, “hi, baby.” I can tell he’s pissed but I bat my lashes at him anyway, playing innocent.

“Thought you were here alone,” Mr. drink buyer asks all in a huff. He’s the alpha type and I know the idea of someone like me being obedient to someone like Spencer would make him laugh.

I shrug, “I never directly said anything except what I was drinking.” I sip my free drink with raised eyebrows. But I don’t get more than a sip in before it’s being placed back on the bar by my pissed off fiancé.

“And she also never directly asked you to talk to her.” He pauses “or buy her a drink. Or talk to her. So, thank you but we’re going.” He grabs my hand and starts walking.

But I plant my feet and put on my best whining voice, “aww but daddy! I’m having fun!” I know just about every person directly around me heard what I said. But I will never see these people again, nor do I care what they think.

His hand wraps tightly around my bicep, his fingers causing delicious pain. “I don’t give a fuck. Dig your grave, bunny. You’re already in enough trouble.” I try to hide the smirk on my face. But I’m excited. I want him to be rough. I want bruises in the shape of his hands that makeup won’t be able to cover, and stay for weeks.

“You’re a fucking pussy,” I say as I try and pull my arm from his grasp. I know that I have a smug look on my face, and I also know that he has caught on to the game I am playing.

His eyes darken but he says nothing. Instead, he throws me over his shoulder, slapping my ass before carrying me out of the bar. I wave at the team as we walk by them, Morgan’s jaw dropped in shock and Garcia cheering us on.

I was put back on my feet once we reached the car. Spencer’s body boxing me in. He was the hunter and I was his rabbit. Though, I wasn’t afraid of him. I was excited. I couldn’t wait for him to sink his teeth into my neck and claim me as his.

“Get in the fucking car,” he practically growled at me as he opened the door.

I giggled, “ooooh so scary, daddy! But what if I just…. Didn’t?” I blinked at him with as much innocence as I could muster. But he didn’t buy it.

“Bunny! Get in the fucking car or so help me God- “

I interrupted him, something he hated more than anything, to make a point “you don’t believe in God. So, you saying that makes your statement less scary.”

He shoves me in the car, buckling me and slamming the door before I have time to make another smart remark. The pit forms in my stomach as I watch him walk around the car. He’s angry, jealous and he wants to kill me. Metaphorically of course, but he wants to fuck me dead. I can’t stop the small feeling of guilt that I might have pushed him too far. But he had safe words and he knew he could use them the same as I.

The drive home was silent but the tension was anything but. His hand gripped my thigh, and I was soaking my panties the entire drive home. He was beautiful always, but even more so when he was mad. There was just something about the redness of his face, and the way his veins became more prominent. It only served to make me wetter.

“I like when you’re jealous. S’cute.” I say as he parks in his typical spot at our apartment.

“I don’t like when you play games. It’s not cute.” His tone is clipped and cold, his hand removing from my thigh.

I roll my eyes, digging my grave deeper and deeper, “are you saying I’m not cute? Hurtful.” I put on my best pout in the hopes he would feel bad for me. Spoiler? He didn’t feel bad.

“No. I’m not saying that and you know that. Go. Ready position and if you even think about bitching… I swear bunny.” Any smart ass remark I was going to make died on my tongue with the tone he gave me.

‘Ready position’ was something we’d agreed on. It wasn’t the most comfortable position on the planet but it let him see all of me as he entered the room. Well, the most intimate part of me. It consisted of me on my stomach, knees under me at a 90-degree angle, my knees spread and my hands under me and grabbing my ankles.

When he’d given me the position, I’d never felt more exposed. But in the absolute best way possible. It let him see how wet I was for the beating that was about to take place. But it prevented me from moving or speaking in un-mumbled sentences. I can’t exactly explain why, but it made me feel like he owned me. And he did… Spencer Reid owned every part of me, from my mind, to my heart, to my pinky toe.

I undressed as I walked through our apartment, leaving a little trail of my clothing like breadcrumbs to follow. I was unbelievably soaked and ready to take the punishment he was about to dish out.

Spencer trusted me with everything inside him. Six years of me pushing men off of me who clung on worse than static, proved that. But though he knew I wouldn’t ever pursue anyone else, his jealousy persisted. But I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing. Most of the time it led us to intense scenes and the roughest sex out there.

I grabbed my ankles just as I heard the front door close with a small creek. I was practically vibrating with excitement and dripping with need. I was also nervous at the pain that was to come, but I knew he wouldn’t ever hurt me beyond my limits.

I can’t see him from my position on the bed, but I know he’s there. His scent fills the room, old books and cinnamon. It’s one of my favorite scents. “Wow. Seems my whore knows how to listen.” I hadn’t been given permission to speak, so I nodded instead.

He gets closer to me, his delicious scent igniting my insides. I keep my eyes straight ahead, not daring to turn my head before permission is given. He runs his fingertips up the back of my thigh before a cupping my ass with a flat hand. Flames follow the path his fingers had taken, my skin turning into ash in their wake. And before I can even process his hand leaving me? It returns, snapping against my skin. The sound echoes through the room and a gasp leaves my lips. The sting is delicious and I can’t wait for him to do it again.

Except he doesn’t.

His fingers, instead, continue their assent up my spine. Again, it’s just the tip of them, the touch feather light. More skin turns to ash at his touch. I want more. I want it all. And I want it to hurt. Bad.

He stops when he gets to my neck, taking his hands away completely. I miss his touch but I know better than to beg. If I did, he would give me the opposite of what I want.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters more to himself than to me. But it doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in my tummy. “Do you know why I’m going to be punishing you, little bunny?”

I keep my mouth shut. Sure, he asked me a question, but I didn’t have explicit orders to speak. I hear his belt clink. And then I hear it hit my ass, causing me to yelp in surprise. “Asked you a question.”

I gulp “I didn’t know if I had p-permission to speak.”

He hits me again on the other cheek and rips a soft moan from my chest, “answer me.”

The belt comes down harder, this time on my thighs, “ah! B-because I flirted with another guy.”

Smack “And?” he asks drawing out the vowel.

Smack smack “Fuck! A-and for accepting the drink. And f-for talking back! Ah!” This time the belt hits my engorged clit. It hurts, but in the sweetest way.

I can hear his breathing pick up as he hits me even harder “you’re mine. My whore. My slut. I own you.” He hits me with each statement to emphasize his words. I let out a choked sob by the end of it.

“I’m s-sorry daddy. I w-won’t do it again. I promise. Just… please” I want him to fuck me. I want it so bad it almost hurts. And I am surprised when I hear the rustling of clothes and feel the bed dip by my feet.

The tip of his hard cock run through my slick cunt, bumping my hard clit and making me moan, “please what bunny? What do you want?”

I’m panting with need, my mind slowly slipping with each slow movement through my core. “I want you to fuck me.” I manage to choke out.

The head of his cock presses against my hole and I try to push back, but his hand grips my ass and prevents me from moving. “Yeah? Do you deserve it?” He asks.

I sigh “N-no? but I want it so bad, daddy! Please! Can’t you feel how wet I am for you? S’all for you!”

He hums and I know I’ve convinced him. He slams into me, not giving me time to adjust before continuing his quick pace. His hips slam into my bruised ass and thighs. The pain only serving to make me wetter as he took claim over my body.

“It’s cute when you try to make me jealous by flirting with other men.” He reaches down to grab my hair, pulling me up enough that I’m forces to let go of my ankles. “I fucking own you, bunny. No one can make you feel the way I do.”

I whine at his words. He’s right. No one will ever make me feel like he does. Not a shot in hell. What Spencer and I had was something I’d never felt with anyone. He was my best friend, my master, my owner. And I was his bunny, his submissive. We fit together like pieces fit in a puzzle, made for each other.

“N-no one, daddy. M’yours…” I was getting close and I knew that he could hear it in my voice. He pulls out which swiftly causes a “wait!” to fall from my lips. I felt empty and full at the same time that’s to my arousal.

“Relax, bunny. You’ll get what you want. Lay on your back.” He slaps the side of my ass and I yelp as I roll over.

Spencer was always beautiful, but I found him most attractive when his eyes were blown with lust. His hair tussled in every which way and sweat on his brow. Those were the moments that I felt like I was staring at a work of art. Because that’s what he was, art. I swore he was handcrafted; beauty only an artist could create.

He kisses me for the first time and my body warms with delight. He tastes like whisky and Spencer. I’m infatuated with all that he is as he sinks back inside me. “God, you feel so fucking good bunny” he whines. His hand runs up the curves of my body before setting on my cheeks and squishing them together before he spits into my mouth. “Swallow it.” I do without a second thought.

His pace is rough and brutal. His cock slamming into my cunt like it was the last time. The pain ever delicious. “Such a dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?”

I nod, “yes, daddy. I-fuck- I’m a dirty fucking slut. Oh, god I’m so close!” I can feel the pressure building between my hips and I pray he doesn’t make me wait. I need the orgasm like I need air in my lungs.

“Cum for me… let me watch you come undone.” It sends me over with a loud moan, my hands gripping his biceps as I cum around his cock. That seems to be his undoing, filling me up as he chants my name over and over.

“Daddy!!” he slows, dragging out our orgasms as long as possible. I’m exhausted but utterly satisfied. The smile on my face seems to make him happy as a small chuckle leaves him.

“Do you want a bath, my bunny?” I nod, breathless and unable to speak for the moment. I feel him pull out of me, helping me to stand on shaky legs as he helps me to the bathroom and fills the tub.

He gets in first, leaning against the back of the tub and reaching out to for my hand. I take his and carefully step in, leaning my back to his chest and letting the warm water wrap envelope me. His arms do the same, snaking around my waist as his lips find my shoulder. I hum in contentment when he leaves little butterfly kisses over them.

“You’re my best girl you know that?” I love sex, don’t get me wrong. But there is nothing compared to the sweet nothings he whispers to me when were done. “Just the best little girl.”

I feel my face grow warm as he talks, ever the glutton for praise, “thank you, daddy.” My mind is fuzzy but I am on cloud nine.

“Did so good for me… following my orders. I love you so much.” He’s right by my ear and I feel the goosebumps form as his lips hit the shell of my ear.

I sigh happily, turning my face to kiss him softly “I love you most, Spencer Reid.”

...

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[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

White Lies and Warm (Sweet)hearts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader (She/Her)

Summary: Spencer's overactive daydreams lead him to a date with Reader, the love of his life, expect for one thing, it's completely fake.

CW: Spencer gets drunk on Peppermint Schnapps

Word Count: 6,400

Prompt: chasing a daydream

Author's Note: Well, here’s at least one of the two fics I have planned for the Christmas/Winter Season! I really hope that you enjoy this. I also appreciate if you reblog or comment. It’s very encouraging for writers to know that their fics are loved.

White Lies and Warm (Sweet)hearts

The little bookshop on the corner of Norfolk and Speevy is 10 blocks away from Spencer’s apartment. The nearly two mile walk wouldn't have been considered out of his way if there weren't three other independent bookstores nearby. Spencer does consider himself lucky to live so close to the bookstores, even though he never goes to the ones that are more local. He’ll do anything to avoid admitting why he chooses the furthest bookstore, even though that little bookstore is the only thing he can think about. Or rather, the owner is the only thing he can think about.

Y/N, who inherited the store from her late grandfather, fits perfectly into the homey bookstore. From her quiet demeanor to her sweet disposition, she seems like she was born to work in a bookstore. Or maybe she’s just so wonderful in Spencer’s eyes it’s as if she walked out the pages of a book. He’d venture to say, if he was a more confident, self assured man, that he’d be a perfect fit for the bookstore too. But that seems too much like a fairytale. And fairytales are only found on bookstore shelves, conveniently out of Spencer’s reach.

His walk to the bookstore does give him enough time to contemplate his current predicament. Fed up with Penelope and Luke’s good natured teasing, Spencer finally snapped and told them that he didn’t need them to fix him up with one of their friends because he was already seeing someone. And in true love-stricken Spencer fashion, his mystery partner is the one person who he actually wants to date.

Y/N.

He spilled the highly fictionalized details of their relationship to Luke and Penelope over stale donut holes and terrible coffee. Spencer hates lying to his friends, but he’s positive he hates their nagging even more. And now he’s stuck in his lie after he told them he’d bring Y/N to Penelope’s Christmas party. He doesn't even think she’d know his name if it wasn’t for him giving her his credit card every time he comes in to get books. Maybe he’ll pretend to get sick and stay home. He was never one for Christmas parties anyway. Someone always gets too drunk and loud. And the lights and music are a little overwhelming. Maybe he can come up with a tragic breakup story.

And just as Spencer’s supposed to be fantasizing loving Y/N, he’s thinking about what their heart wrenching breakup would be. Right person wrong time? She sleeps with her socks on, which is a dealbreaker in Spencer’s book? Anything that he comes up with sounds trite and curated. Something that Luke and Penelope would see right through.

Lost in his thoughts, Spencer hardly realizes he’s reached Y/N’s bookstore until he’s greeted by her waving at him through the picture window. Christmas decorations litter in the window. She’s made a miniature town, with all the buildings made from different books and the little people characters in famous stories.

Spencer waves back excitedly, forgetting for a moment that he told his co-workers/best friends that they are “dating.”

Laughing, Y/N opens the door and sticks her head out to talk to Spencer, “Are you coming in? It’s freezing out here,” she asks, letting the door swing open for Spencer to walk through.

“Yeah,” Spencer says, quietly to himself as he follows her through the door. He rubs his hands together, seeking warmth from his frosty walk. Even after leaving the dusty desert of Las Vegas and the balmy beaches of California years ago, Spencer still isn’t used to the cold winters native to the Eastern United States.

“Coffee?” Y/N asks, not waiting for an answer as she hands Spencer a cup of steaming hot coffee. He doesn't even have to taste it to know that it’s going to be perfect. It amazes him that she can know so little about him, but make it feel like she’s known him his whole life. He wonders if that’s what love is.

“Are you okay?” Y/N questions, taking in Spencer’s rosy cheeks and lost look in his eyes. He takes a sip of the hot coffee and shrugs his shoulders.

The noncommittal answer seems to be the less painful route. He isn’t sure how Y/N would respond if he told her that he basically told his co-workers he wanted to marry her, when in reality she doesn’t even know his middle name. It’s a recurring problem for him. Falling too fast and too hard with people that are just kind to him. Someone smiles at him, asks him how his day is or is just nice and Spencer can hear wedding bells. It’s happened before. With Lila and that became his first heartbreak. With Maeve and that ended tragically. With Max and that just fizzled out like flat soda. But with Y/N it’s different, even though there’s technically nothing with Y/N, except for the scenarios that play in his mind.

“Spence,” Y/N says, looking concerned at his lack of answer, “Are you okay? You seem out of it today,”

“I’m fine,” Spencer says, sighing as he sits down on the vintage armchair in the corner of the store. Y/N’s cat, Chester, sleeps peacefully in the windowsill, until he notices Spencer. He jumps up on Spencer’s lap, curling up to get closer for warmth, “Hey, Chest,” Spencer murmurs, scratching behind the cat’s ears as he purrs happily.

“No, you’re not,” Y/N counters, her eyes narrowing at Spencer with determination, “I know you, Spencer. Something is going on in that beautiful mind of yours,”

He wishes it was sunset. If it was sunset then he’d be able to hide his blush. It’s little things like calling him beautiful and giving him coffee just how he likes it that makes Spencer love Y/N more and more. Loving her isn’t like tripping over his feet, it’s more like tumbling in slow motion. There’s no chance to catch your breath during the free fall, only time to enjoy the rush. No hi I

Spencer looks over at Y/N, who’s working on a new book display for the New Year. She’s occupied with her work, but Spencer can tell that he mind must be going a million miles a minute trying to figure out why he’s acting skittish. Petting Chester, Spencer thinks to himself that it just might be easier to come clean and tell the truth.

“I told Penelope and Luke that I have a date to their Christmas party,” Spencer says, letting the words rush out without much thought. He brings the hot coffee to his lips, letting it burn his tongue so he has an excuse to not talk.

In his energy to not let Y/N know his true intentions, Spencer misses her important nonverbal cues: the split second look of shock and disappointment, the collecting herself as she aggressively creates a magical Winter Wonderland display in the picture winder. Spencer is too inside his own mind to realize what’s right before him.

“Oh really, Spencer. Who’s your date?” Y/N asks, her clipped tone completely lost on Spencer, who pets Chester trying to think of how he’s going to navigate this situation, “Do I know them?”

“The thing is, Y/N. I don’t have a date. I lied. Kind of,” Spencer says, leaving out the most important detail that his date, at least according to Spencer’s wildest dreams and now Penelope’s event calendar, is Y/N.

“Why did you lie about a date, Spence? You know that anyone would be the luckiest person on this planet. In this universe, in all of the universes and multiverses to date you,” Y/N says, dropping the paper figurines and walking over to Spencer. She places her hand on the back of his head, rubbing her thumb against his skin gently. In a strange way, it eases his tension. He must love her an awful lot if the bane of his tension is the only one that can relieve it.

“You’re too nice to me, Y/N,” Spencer says, brushing off her compliment because if he doesn’t he just might start to believe her, “Now you gotta help me come up with a plan for this disaster because I’m going to show up to this date single and I don’t want to deal with Luke’s teasing and Penelope’s meddling and…”

“Take me,”

His heart drops to his ankles. Spencer swears, if he were to look down at the floor, he’d find his bloody heart sitting right next to his feet.

“What?” he asks, even though he heard Y/N perfectly. He needs to hear it again. One, for confirmation that he’s not finally losing it and two, it just might be the first and last time he can take her on a date so he’ll milk it for all it’s worth, “Y/N, you’ll…”

“Be your fake girlfriend for the night? That’s literally the easiest and best job in the world, you dork,” Y/N says, playfully clapping his shoulder, “I mean it, Spence,”

“That you’ll be my fake girlfriend,” he repeats, whispering it because it’s a secret and you don’t want to say secrets too loud otherwise they’ll never come true.

“That I’ll be your girlfriend,” she repeats, “It will be easy! And fun, besides, I’ve been dying to meet Penelope,”

“Y/N, are you sure that you want to do this? We’re dating, I mean they think we’re dating. So, I just don’t want to make you uncomfort-”

Suddenly, Spencer loses all ability to speak. He feels a pair of soft lips brush against his cheek. She leaves the lightest pressure and yet her lips sting him like a thousand bees. He brings his hand to his cheek, ghosting his fingers over the spot where her mouth just was. Spencer hasn’t been dumbfounded many times in his life. Hell, the Riemann’s Hypothesis makes more sense than Y/N wanting to kiss him. Yet, her lips against his skin is a feeling that he’ll have etched into his mind long after he’s tired of equations and math.

“I just had to get that out of the way,” she whispers, talking quietly too. Maybe she’s thinking the same thing as Spencer. Maybe she wants their secrets to stay a secret, “Now you only have to worry about mistletoe at Penelope’s,”

“That’s good. Good. That’s good. Getting it out of the way,” Spencer stammers, forgetting how to talk when all he can think about is the feeling of her kissing him, “I’m gonna go. I have to get things ready for tomorrow. Penelope wants me to pick up icing. And uh, I’ll get you around 5:30?” he asks, scrambling to get up and get out of the bookstore before he does something foolish like kiss Y/N on her lips.

“Sounds good, Spence,” Y/N says, grabbing him a hat that she shoves on his head, “you know if you wait like ten minutes, I’ll drive you home, maybe we can stop for pizza or something and tell me everything your girlfriend would know about you,”

He doesn’t say much, just nods his head as he watches her clean up the supplies from the window displays. Spencer was never smooth around people he liked. He falls in love too fast and usually scares them off, but it doesn’t seem like Y/N is scared off by much, even if their relationship is pretend. Spencer’s so nervous around her, he wishes that he could send her a message in a bottle. He’d write down all the warmth and love and worthiness she makes him feel and bottle it up for only Y/N to open. He could only hope that it would get to her as he’s left on the sidelines hypnotized.

“Ready?” Y/N asks, looking towards Spencer as she shuts off their lights, scoops up Chester and places him in his pet carrier, “We can get take out and head to my place. And you can tell me all the embarrassing stories a girlfriend should know,”

“That sounds…..”

Like all he’s ever wanted.

“That sounds great, Y/N. I’ll pay,” he adds, waving off her protest, “You’re doing me a huge favor, Y/N. It’s my treat. Besides, you’re like family anyway, you know all the embarrassing stories,”

They walk out of the store, the fresh snow on the ground crunching under their shoes. Spencer looks over to Y/N’s bright face and lively eyes, a stark contrast to how huddled he is in the brisk winter breeze. Y/N loves the snow and the cold. Spencer likes the dryness and the heat, but standing there hoping that his message in a bottle makes it to her, he’s never felt warmer.

“Ooh, like the time you knocked down that display because you were so distracted,” Y/N teases, her smirk peeking through her scarf. Spencer shakes his head as he reaches down towards the ground. He scoops up some snow in his hands, balling it up into a sphere and launching it towards Y/N.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” she shouts, faking anger as she secures Chester on her elbow and scoops up some snow to throw a snowball at Spencer.

The cold snow hits Spencer's face, making him shiver. He can taste the icy particles as it stings his kiss, not unlike Y/N’s kiss on his cheek, even though that made him feel all warm inside. And as it turns out, she does know his middle name.

Spencer doesn’t even realize it’s nearly freezing until he sees his breath in the air. He hates the cold and hates the snow even more, yet he found himself digging his car out of a layer of ice and snow. But, he supposed that an unhealthy level of unrequited love will make him do things he hates gleefully. In the end it just might be all worth it, but until then Spencer sits in his powder blue Volvo rubbing his hands together for warmth.

Out of the corner of this eye, he catches Y/N walking down the steps to her apartment complex. She carries a tray of what appears to be Christmas cookies in both her hands as she navigates the icy steps. Spencer, in an effort to help her, flings the car door open. The cold air nips at his nose, but it’s all worth it when Y/N smiles and waves a gloved hand at him. He returns the gesture, nearly slipping on the icy.

“Hey, boyfriend,” Y/N teases, walking down the rest of the stairs as Spencer meets her half way. His feet are freezing in the layers of old and new snow. Wearing Converse probably wasn’t the smartest idea with so much snow on the ground. But his freezing feet and soaked socks pale in seem like the silliest problems when Y/N calls him her boyfriend, even if it’s all pretend.

“Hi, Y/N,” Spencer says, smiling as he takes her appearance in. She wears a dark green peacoat and has a lavender scarf wrapped around her neck. Unlike Spencer, she thrives in the cold. Words can’t quite help him anymore. He feels his face flush and knows that it has

Everything is so overwhelming with the wind nipping at his nose, the snow soaking his feet, and Y/N staring into his eyes and stealing his heart. Spencer’s tempted to think about how easy it is to pretend to be her boyfriend.

“You really didn’t need to bake anything, Luke makes amazing chocolate chip cookies and Penelope is having the whole thing catered so they don't have to cook,” Spencer says, taking the tray from her hands. They’re sugar cookies with pretzels on the top that look like reindeer antlers. He smiles, finding the cookies just as endearing as the girl who made them.

“It’s something a girlfriend would do for her boyfriend’s friends, besides I’ve been dying to meet Penelope,” Y/N says, rambling nervously. Spencer only recognizes it because he’s constantly stopping himself from doing it around her, “I’m freezing, let’s go,”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, following Y/N to his car. She slides into the passenger seat, shaking off the snow from her shoes before shutting the door. Spencer hands her the tray of cookies, sticking his head inside his car. And as he exits, he slams his head against the doorframe.

“Oh damn it!” He shouts, feeling the white hot pain on the top of his head. Spencer rubs the bump on his head, trying to chase away the pain.

“Spence!” Y/N says, reaching up to his head. She places her hand over his, rubbing against the spot. Suddenly, the pain in Spencer’s head is gone. As much as Spencer likes magic, he knows that it’s impossible for his pain to dissipate even if Y/N’s touch is the most magical thing he knows. Before he can react, Y/N pulls his head closer to her face. He keeps his gaze downward, silently terrified for what’s to come next. Spencer thinks that he’s having a stroke because for a split second he feels the tiniest of tiny kisses on his head.

“There,” she says, her hands leaving his neck as quick as they came, “All better,” Y/N whispers, stroking her thumb against Spencer’s cheek in an affectionate way that makes Spencer want to do more than call her his fake girlfriend.

“I-I,” Spencer says, the words failing to materialize in his mind, “I-I think we’re going to be late,” he stammers, finally able to string the words together. His head still stings, but he knows that it’s not because of hitting it against the doorframe.

Y/N nods, looking over at him. He tries to play it cool, but it’s harder than it seems. It’s not just his head that tingles with anticipation and buzzes with love, but his entire body. Spencer starts the car, turning the heat up high as he backs out of the parking space and heads to Penelope’s. As they drive, Spencer reminds himself that this whole thing, no matter how much he wants it too, will end when the sun goes down. He never considered himself a Cinderella, but then again happily ever after looks different than he thought.

Penelope’s house is always warm and bright with the faintest smell of cinnamon. Spencer walks right next to Y/N as they make their way through the doorway. He swears that he’s having heart palpitations because Y/N hasn’t dropped his hand yet, even though they are well through the door and have slid their shoes off. Spencer knows that she'll have to drop his hand to take off her coat, but he’s reluctant. He’ll milk this for all it’s worth.

She does drop his hand, but not before giving it a tight squeeze as she shrugs off her peacoat. He can spend forever thinking about what that squeeze meant, but right now all he can think about is how cold his hand is without holding her hand and how her eyes sparkle in the fairy lights.

“So this is Y/N,” Penelope says, bypassing Spencer completely to hug his “girlfriend” as Luke stands to the side, holding two glasses of champagne and the plate of cookies Y/N brought over, “Spencer talks about you so much. He’s so smitten, it’s adorable,”

Penelope, clearly more than half way to drunk, leans over to pinch Spencer’s ever-redding cheeks. He ducks his head, feeling the embarrassment fill his entire body. It’s hard to swallow, but even harder to look over at Y/N, whose eyes are glued to him.

“Is that right, Spence,” Y/N says, linking their arms together, “It’s a good thing that I’m smitten with you too,” she adds, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s quick, just like the one she gave him back at her bookstore and it leaves Spencer’s skin tingling. His blush is authentic, almost too authentic, so Penelope squeals with delight. Part of him feels bad for tricking Penelope, for the 15 years she’s been trying to set him up and now he’s pretending to be happily committed when he's actually fooling her.

“Yeah,” Spencer says, fidgeting with his thumbs. He feels his throat get scratchy with a mixture of nerves and guilt. But then Y/N’s soft hands come to cover his. She squeezes again, that little gesture doing more than a defibrillator could ever do for Spencer’s heart.

“You too are the cutest!” Penelope shouts, clearly unable to hold her alcohol. Endeared by her antics, Luke smiles as Peneloep drags Y/N towards the living room when Tara and Emily sit by the fireplace, “Tara! Em! She’s real,”

“I’ll be fine, Spence,” Y/N says, waving as she laughs along with Penelope. He watches her leave, his hand a lot colder again. Luke studies his face and it’s like he can read his mind. They’ve only known each other for a couple years, but in that short while Luke’s carved a very special place on the team.

“You’re so whipped,” Luke says, handing Spencer the glass of champagne as they walk back to the kitchen.

“I love her,” Spencer whispers, his throat growing dry again. He drinks the champagne, chasing the light and airy feeling it gives him. He remembers drinking too much of it at JJ and Will’s wedding and doing magic tricks for Penelope. It seems like a lifetime ago, he’s so different now, but somehow exactly the same, “I love her, a lot,”

“It’s painfully obvious,” Luke quips, smiling widely. Like Penelope, he’s clearly thrilled that Spencer has finally found someone, which makes Spencer feel all more guilty, “I mean look how you look at her. It’s all in the eyes, man,”

“Actually Luke, that’s scientifically impossible. You can do that with human anatomy,” Spencer says, bashfully. His face is a perpetual shade of pink as he drinks the remainder of champagne. Luke opens the oven, checking on the various appetizers and hors d’oeuvres he and Penelope made.

“Spencer, you are in love. L-O-V-E. Love,” Luke spells out, “And you know what, I’m glad. You deserve it more than anyone I know,”

Spencer wishes that he could believe Luke. He wishes that he was 4 years old again and believed in the magic of shooting stars. He wishes he didn’t have to pretend to pretend to not love Y/N all while loving her in the same breath. Licking his lips and nodding, Spencer doesn’t answer Luke. Maybe it’s too painful, maybe he’s too vulnerable, whatever it is, Spencer isn’t sure. But what he is sure of, is that he’s sick of bottling up all the love he has for her. He wants to let it go and watch it ooze out.

“Come have a drink with the girls,” Luke says, clapping Spencer on the shoulder. He leaves him alone in the kitchen, letting him stand there with his thoughts. Spencer can hear laughter and jokes from the living room. If he strains his ears enough, he’ll be able to pick out Y/N’s giggles from the lot.

Looking out the window, Spencer watches the snow fall. It’s fresh and light and airy as it falls to the ground, joining the gray slush from the previous night. Spencer feels a lot like snow. He was once a clean slate, falling to the ground aimlessly. But now? Now he’s not too sure. But like how he can pick out Y/N’s laughter in any crowd, Spencer’s pretty sure he’s murky snow.

“Spence! I’ll ice, you put the candy down. We’ll make a red and green pattern with the peppermints?” Y/N asks, excitement in her voice as she draws scalloped edges on the Gingerbread House roof.

“Sure,” Spencer says, keeping his words clipped and short, “Whatever you want,” he adds, unable to stop himself. Apparently, Penelope went a little heavy handed with the eggnog and Spencer had discovered Peppermint Schnapps. He knew it was a recipe for disaster; drinking like a college kid when he’s nearly 40. And on top of it all, pretending to keep their little act up.

“You having fun?” Y/N asks, inching closer to Spencer. They sit in two separate chairs, but she’s so close that she’s practically sitting in his lap. Suddenly, Spencer’s grateful for the Peppermint Schnapps and chocolate syrup that gives him the courage to stay, even though it probably won’t agree with him in the morning.

“I’m having a blast,” Spencer says, unable to control the smile that covers his face. Y/N is so close at this point that Spencer can smell her citrusy perfume. Staring at her, Spencer’s eyes flit down to her lips. For as long as he has loved her, which is nearly 946 days, Spencer hasn’t looked at her lips. How could he have been with her for all this time and not realize that her lips look like they’d fit perfectly on his.

“A blast?” Y/N asks skeptically, but a playful pulling on her incredibly distracting lips. Lips that kisses his cheek, lips that smile at him whenever she sees him, lips that tease him over a Gingerbread House, “Oh, wait,”

She reaches her thumb out to his face, grazing along the corner of his mouth. Y/N turns her thumb to face him, showing off the bit of chocolate syrup leftover from the Peppermint Schnapps and chocolate syrup drinks Luke made. He feels his breath hitch and his face blush even more when Y/N brings her thumb to her mouth, cleaning off the chocolate syrup. Her lips are shiny and glossy, proving to be even more tempting.

“There,” Y/N says, her gaze not leaving Spencer’s and Spencer’s gaze not leaving her lips, “You had chocolate sauce on your lip,” she explains, darting her eyes down to his lips for a millisecond, but it’s enough for Spencer’s quick eyes to catch it.

“We should decorate the roof,” Spencer says, breaking free from a spell that he wants to be forever enchanted under, “Before the icing hardens,”

“You’re the engineer,” Y/N replies, shifting through the candies on their plate. She takes a red gumdrop, alternating between red and green on the roof, “So, are we fooling them,” she whispers, reminding Spencer that he’s still living a lie, not the fantasies of his daydreamss.

“Oh,” he says, catching himself quickly, “I think so. I mean, Luke was teasing me because I apparently look at you like I love you,”

“Oh,” Y/N says, holding on tightly to the gumdrop, “Penelope said the same thing to me,”

“That I look at you like I love you?” Spencer says, sticking his tongue out as he concentrates on placing the candy down. Y/N draws icicles with the icing on the Gingerbread windows.

She pauses and then says, after what seems like two lifetimes,

“No, that I look at you like I love you,”

The plate of candies drops to the floor, ricocheting around on the hardwood floor. Spencer scrambles to the ground, partly to clean up the mess and partly to hide his embarrassment. No, it’s not embarrassment, more like excitement. Or both. Maybe it’s both. It’s probably both.

“Sorry, Y/N. I’m clumsy, but you knew that already, I guess,” Spencer says, picking up the pieces of the candy with Y/N.

Spencer doesn’t even realize that his hands are shaking until Y/N’s hands cover his. They are soft and warm against his worn and cold ones. And just like thinks that their lips would fit together, their hands fit together like puzzle pieces. Spencer has the sneaking suspicion that nearly every part of him meshes perfectly with every part of her.

“Hey, Spence,” Y/N whispers, giving him, yet again, the tiniest squeeze of his hand, “It’s good that they think we love each other. Isn’t that the whole point,”

“Yeah,” Spencer whispers, the chatter of the party and the tune of the music in background, “I guess it’s the whole point,”

He licks his lips, a habit that becomes worse during the harsh winter when the wind nips at any exposed skin. It’s like time gets paralyzed when they’re sitting there on the floor with the plate of candy between them. And Spencer realizes, too late, that it’s impossible for him to not look at her like he loves her because he loves her.

“Say cheese!” Penelope says, sitting down on the floor with a camera in her hands. The flash of light blinds Spencer, etching Y/N’s features into the back of his mind. He was wrong, it’s not just her lips or her laugh that distracts him, it's everything about her.

“You two are the cutest,” Penelope shouts, happily snapping pictures of Tara and Emily in their matching sweaters on the couch.

“I need something to drink,” Y/N says, getting herself up from the floor with a sigh that sounds like it’s more than what appears to the ear, “What about you, Spence?” she asks.

“Maybe a water,” he says, stopping himself before he says it, even though he desperately wants to say it, “Thanks, sweetheart,”

He drops the bomb that he swore to himself that he would not drop. It’s the point of no return, calling Y/N a sweet name that he’s only said in his daydreams. Y/N, in her defense, doesn��t look shocked, but gives him another unreadable look. He can blame it all he wants on Peppermint Schnapps and his own heart playing tricks on him, but he’ll have to face reality come tomorrow morning when this is all nothing but an elaborate prank. And the only one who’s going to get hurt is himself.

Y/N returns, silently handing Spencer the water bottle before nearly slipping out of the living room. But Spencer, tired of letting everything good slip through his fingers, catches the arm of her cardigan.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice sounding completely earnest, even without the endearing name that threatens to slip from his lips, “Please wait, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if it’s too much–,”

“Spencer, it’s not you. It’s just. It’s…I need some air,”

And then she’s gone. Spencer understands what Jordan meant when she told Nick that big parties are private, because in Penelope’s small living room all eyes are on the madly in love couple— who’s just for show.

“You’re going to follow her out there, right?” Tara asks, appearing at Spencer’s shoulder with a drink and plate of cookies in hand, both of which are for Emily.

“What?” Spencer says, feigning ignorance, something that’s foreign for him, “Why would I—”

“Because you love her,” Tara says, rolling her eyes at Spencer’s naivety, “and she loves you, probably more than you love her if that’s possible”

“Do you really think she would want me to follow her out there? If you think she does love me. If she actually loves me?” Spencer asks, searching for an answer in the crowded room.

“Go!” Tara shouts, practically shoving Spencer towards the deck door where Y/N stands.

Spencer, unsure where this conversation may lead, closed the blinds on the way out. He can feel his heart thump in his chest and even though the snow falls from the sky in frozen rainy clumps, he’s not even cold. Y/N stands motionless, watching the snowfall and the Christmas lights twinkle.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says, “I’m so sorry, Spence. I didn’t mean to freak out on you there. It’s just, I guess I didn’t realize how hard it was going to be pretending to be in love with you,”

He’s cold. From the tips of his fingers to all his insides and outsides, he’s cold. He feels the blood rush from his face as Y/N’s remark. Spencer shifts on his feet, unable to move closer to Y/N, but unable to leave too. In the seconds of silence, Spencer’s mind tumbles around and around trying to interpret what she meant.

Spencer settles on the only logical thing: he’s too much. It’s too hard to pretend to love him with all his quirks and oddities. He finds it a little sick and twisted that he fooled himself into thinking that Y/N would be different from the rest. But then again, there’s still that hopeless romantic part of him that, for lack of better words, is hopelessly hanging on.

“I’ll bring you home,” Spencer says, settling for his worst fears rather than his greatest hopes, “I’ll tell Penelope you’re feeling sick and I’ll bring you home. But I’ll have to have Luke call one of those Uber things, I’m not good to drive. But I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I roped you into this,” he repeats, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate and the coolness of the peppermint on his lips. It tasted good before, but now it only tastes like regret and heartache.

“No,” Y/N says, reaching out to Spencer. And in a couple steps they’re standing eye to eye. She licks her lips, daring to continue, “It’s not that at all, Spencer. What I didn’t realize is how hard it is to pretend to love you, when it’s all I’ve been doing for the past 2 years,”

It’s like watching a movie in slow motion. Or maybe in reverse. He’s played it so many times in his head that he’s not sure how it ends or begins.

“I–”

“You don’t have to say it back. I just, I can’t live my life without you knowing how I feel about you. How much I feel for you, how much you make me feel. And then you called me sweetheart. God, Spencer, I dreamt of that. I dreamt of the day that you’d look at me like you love me. I dreamt of being yours, even if you could never be mine,” Y/N says, her voice as breathless as the wind, “I’ll still love you if you don’t love me back, Spencer. I’ll understand if you don’t,”

“No, I–”

“I’m going to get going,” Y/N says, a tear trickling down her cheek as she drops his hand. He didn’t even know that she grabbed his hands, but he certainly knows when they’re gone, “Please don’t let me being foolish ruin what we had. I can’t bare to lose you,”

“Sweetheart,”

“Please don’t go,” Spencer whispers, rejoining their hands. He squeezes Y/N’s hand, like she did before. He feels his belly fill with a sudden warmth and a smile play at his mouth, “Please, Y/N. Let me have my turn, let me tell you all that you mean to me,”

With a slight nod of her head, Y/N gives him permission. He’s not quite sure how to string the words together. Words can’t quite seem to do their story justice, even though, ironically, the love of words on pages and pages of books is what brought them together.

“Remember the display, the one that I knocked down?” Spencer asks, getting a look from Y/N that tells him she has no idea where this is going, “You know that happened because you’re so distracting. Everything about you, Y/N has me doing summersaults. I tried to convince myself that being in your life was enough, even if we never breached that boundary. But it wasn’t, Y/N. It wasn’t enough, I don’t think I can ever go back to loving you in secret,”

“Spence,” Y/N says, like she’s said it thousands of times before because she has. And she’ll say it a thousand more. He’ll never grow tired of hearing his name from her lips, in her voice, calling him closer and closer to her.

Spencer, lacking the words, steps closer to Y/N. They’re so close that he can feel her heart beating against his one. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly close and tries to not lose his mind at the whimper of relief she makes. Spencer’s other hand cups Y/N’s face. She’s cold in the winter wind and his thumb draws shapeless shapes around her skin. They have forever to memorize each other, but know he really just wants to kiss her.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Y/N whispers, sounding braver than Spencer feels, “Because I’d really like for you to kiss me,”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Spencer says, brushing a piece of her hair from her face as he lowers his head to hers. The silence makes his heart race with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s been daydreaming of this moment ever since he knocked down the display of books. And despite the cold, the warmth in Spencer’s chest spreads throughout his entire body.

“There it is again,”

And it’s actually like it seems to be in the movies. The distance between their lips grows shorter and shorter. Spencer can feel the vibrations ricocheting off their bodies as they meet, closing the gap. Before, when he would dream of kissing her, Spencer thought that he would be too nervous for it to be good. Yet somehow, he’s not nervous at all. Somehow, when his lips glide across Y/N’s lips he’s calm. Maybe it’s her uncanny ability to understand him or maybe soulmates are actually real, but whatever it is, Spencer knows he’ll spend the rest of his life chasing it like he’s chasing a daydream.

Y/N, growing restless, breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against his. Spencer’s breath mixes with her’s and their heartbeats thump as one, it’s impossible to tell them apart. He’s grateful for her for many things, but he never would think he’d be grateful for her breaking the kiss before he grows hungry for more.

“How I got you to love me back, Y/N. It’s beyond me, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers, his eyes scanning over her face with nothing but love in his eyes. He’ll still chase his daydreams, but now, at least he’ll have someone to squeeze his hand and dream along with him.

TAGLIST (still open, shoot me an ask)

@reidslibrarybook @reidsbookclub @shemarmooresfedora @reidsacademia @strawberryspence @pastelbabygirl19 @folkreid @doctorspenceryeet @the-chaotic-cow @alexrosex99 @emilyprentisswif3 @jswessie187 @muffin-cup @fbivestreid @fandomfriend33 @reidslovely @alexontheinternet @navs-bhat @mimischaos @xoxospencerreid @gspenc @reidsmilf @ssa-uglywhore27 @cncos-baby @drayshadow @nomajdetective @alexxavicry @spencerreidat3am

[dontshootmespence]

Ruined Surprise

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1,262

Warning: Allusions to cheating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still.”

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

----

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

He jumped. “Sorry. It’s nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Dummy. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Investigation | Spencer Reid x reader

Requested by @maybebanks​ / Summary: The BAU is investigating you for a case against your brother and you won’t say a thing, until Dr. Spencer Reid walks in. 

A/N: Hope you like it! xx 

Warning: talks of claustrophobia 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

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********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“Miss y/l/n, we only want to know about your brother.” The man in front of you explains. You were seated across from him at the steel table, inside a room without windows. If you weren’t freaking out about your brother, you might have been freaking out about being enclosed in a room that you couldn’t get out of or see a way out and wonder if the walls were suddenly getting smaller. 

They’d brought you in only a couple hours ago. The BAU team had entered your workplace and cornered you at your desk, basically ordering you to come with them or you’d be arrested. So, you did as you were told. However, you’d seen this before and you weren’t going to speak to them about anything especially if it could be used against you or your brother later on. 

There were men close to your age that had turned up dead in ditches and for some reason your brother was their number one suspect because his DNA is on one of the victims. Your brother, a murderer? There was no way. He was protective of you, his little sister, but he wasn’t that protective, not a murdering type because you looked at my sister wrong kind of guy. 

“When is the last time you spoke to him?” You’d learned the name of the man across from you. Agent Hotchner. 

Your arms remained crossed over your chest as you said nothing. You didn’t even make contact with him. He’d been in here for almost half an hour and you could tell the man was growing impatient. 

He gave a hard sigh and finally stood, “Fine you won’t speak, we’ll just have to find another way to get you to talk.” As he neared the exit, he added, “How about I bring in one of your exes? James? I think he is on your emergency contact list.” And with that he slammed the door shut behind him. 

And suddenly the room grew smaller.

~ 

“Hotch, you can’t threaten her with an ex boyfriend.” Spencer defends, “That’s wrong and you know it.” 

“She won’t speak, what else am I supposed to do?” Hotch tosses the file on the table next to him in frustration, “She has to speak at some point. We have a deadline before the next body shows up and we need information on her brother to find him.” 

“Let me try-” Spencer started, but when he looked through the window into the interrogation room, he knew something was wrong. 

You were panicking and breathing heavily as the walls continued to close in. Your ex boyfriend couldn’t come here. He couldn’t know where you were. 

Spencer rushed into the room, “hey hey, breath.” He pulled you and your chair out from the table so you were in the open and facing him, “Just breath, what’s wrong?” 

“The walls. The walls are..” You choked out and Spencer knew. 

“Open that door.” He instructs the guard before turning his attention back to you, “Breath in and out with me.” Spencer takes in a few deep breaths and you follow along, finally calming down. 

“Get her some water and keep that door open.” Spencer looks you over once more, “And get the cuffs off her. She’s claustrophobic. There’s no need for the cuffs. She’s not a suspect.” 

Your grateful for the man in front of you, “Thank you.” You say quietly as he unlocks the cuffs from your wrists. 

His eyes meet yours, “We’ll keep the door open from now on. Is that alright?” 

You nod, “there’s no windows.. the room just kept getting smaller.” 

He hands you the cup of water, “I know, it’s alright. May I sit in here with you?” He motions to the free seat across from you. 

You answer with a nod and take a sip of your water. You were finally calmed enough to take in the man who’d saved you. His hair was a mess on the top of his head, but it worked for him. He wore a button up shirt with a vest and a tie around his neck. You read the badge clipped to his shirt, SSA Spencer Reid. 

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid by the way.” 

“You look a little young to be a doctor.” You say quietly. 

He chuckles, “I get that a lot.” He points to the shirt your wearing, “Las Vegas. I’m from there.” 

“Went for my 21st birthday. My parents took my brother and I.” 

“It’s a great place. However, I’m banned from casinos there.” 

“Banned?” You laugh, “What could you have possibly been banned for?” 

“Um.. being too good at cards.” He chuckles. 

“Ah you were costing them money? Yeah I can see why you’d be banned.” 

The two of you continued to make small talk. Spencer took a friendly approach instead of Hotch’s aggressive approach and you seemed to open up more to him. From the entire 30 minutes he’d sat with you, he’d managed to find out more than Hotch did and found out that you weren’t great with men who shown aggression. He confirmed that theory when Hotch had walked in and asked you a couple questions but you’d shut down and didn’t say a word. 

“We only want to find your brother. His DNA is on one of the victims shirts.” Spencer explains as he opens the file in front of you. He wanted to get you comfortable with him before going straight into the case and it’s details,  “If he is innocent, great, we’ll prove it. But we have to find him first.” 

You nervously looked over the few photos of the men and recognized one, “That’s Brad. I went on a date with him the other night. It.. it didn’t end good and my brother had stepped in.” You look up at Spencer, “Is that who had his DNA?” 

Spencer gives a nod, glancing back at the window where the team were already listening and watching. 

“My brother had to.. he had to stop the guy. He made some advances when I got home and wouldn’t stop so my brother stepped in to help. He’d never.. kill these men.” 

“Can someone confirm that? And confirm your brother had an alibi the nights these men went missing?” 

You quickly nod, “My brother’s girlfriend and her niece. The three of us live together and her niece was there with us over the weekend. And also our neighbors. They can confirm my brother was home because he spoke with them while bringing up groceries.” 

“This is great information. Let me go talk with the team.” 

~ 

It was only a little while later that Spencer was back in the room, “You’re free to go.” 

“My brother?” 

“He’s cleared of anything. He’s no longer a suspect.” Spencer hands you your things they had confiscated at the door. 

“Thank you.” You give a grateful smile, “And for being so kind during all of this.” 

“Of course.” He apologizes for Hotch’s behavior, “he’s used to taking that aggressive approach with other unsubs. He sometimes forgets that it doesn’t work with everyone.” He motions to the door, “I’ll walk you out.” 

The two of you walk out of the room and through the police department, “Well, I hope you catch the man who did this.” 

“I believe we will. It could also be a woman. Statistically when the victims are men, 85% of the time the killer is a woman.” He notices the look on your face and blushes, “Sorry, I like statistics and sometimes I get overly excited.” 

“It’s fine.” You laugh, “I’ll see you around, Dr. Spencer Reid...” 

He watches as you walk out the door and he makes it look like he wasn’t watching you leave when you glance back at him, however, he runs right into the water dispenser, almost knocking it over. 

Criminal Minds tag list: @thelovelydreamer17​ , @la-vie-en-amour1​ , @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25​ , @astra-inclinant-sed-non-obligant (possibly: @astra-x-inclinant​)  , @bluerose512​ , @lolychu​ , @varsityalthete​ , @televisiondreamstomorrow​ , @harry-hollands​ , @lumineshawn​ , @lyss-xo​ , @rexorangecouny​ , @sassy-hades​ , @britishspidey​ , @ateez-star​ , @l0ve-0f-my-life​ , @ceeellewrites​ , @newtkyloskywalkerstiliski , @in-some-fandoms​

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee​ , @thewolf-and-thesheep​ , @obxrafejjwhore​ , @abbiesthings​ , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Bloodline: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: Never have you heard of a family killing together, and never have you heard of generation of families killing together. Yet here you are.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

You leave the room and approach her ad who is anxious for his little girl.

"Okay. Mr. Scheuren, you have an incredibly strong little girl."

"Did he touch her?"

"No, not in that way."

"Thank God," Jim sighs in relief.

Jim walks back into his daughter's room and you turn to Hotch who is eager to hear what you have to say.

"This confirmed that she was taken by a family. Two parents and a son her age. They took her from her house in a car and then into an RV of some sort. It was a short ride on the main road and then into a wooded area. She said the mother called her son puyule, which I think it's a Romanian term of endearment."

"Take Morgan and Rossi to the nearest RV parks and see if you can find their energies."

"You got it."

Derek and Rossi pick you up from the hospital on their way over to the closest RV park. If they have been a resident there, then their energies will certainly be easy to pick up. The owner of the park wants to help, but there's not much she can tell you about the family or any family who parks on her lot.

"What can you tell us about the residents on your land?" you ask and show her your badge. "More specifically, a family of three."

"Most people pay in cash. We don't have much in the way of records," the owner says.

"Ma'am, this was a mother, father, and a small boy. They would have kept to themselves and then left abruptly."

"You just described most of my business."

"The son wouldn't have mingled with other children. He would have been tightly guarded by his parents. The family we're talking about is Eastern European. They may have spoken some foreign words to each other."

This gets her attention. She goes to close the door on you, but she freezes when you mention the foreign accents.

"Are they in some kind of trouble?"

"Do you remember them?"

"Yeah. You can imagine I don't get a lot of people speaking foreign around here. The husband was real business-like, and the wife was nice. Their son was really quiet."

"Did you take down a license or a credit card?"

"I didn't have time to. They left in the middle of the night and never came back. I wouldn't have thought twice about it if I didn't have to clean up the campsite from all the glass."

"Glass?"

"All over the ground. Almost like they did it on purpose."

"Can you show us where they parked?"

The woman leads you to the empty lot where this family once was. There is nothing left on the land, but you can see all of their energies floating around as if they're still there. The energies pool together to recreate what their RV must have looked like.

"I told you, you're not going to find anything. I cleaned it up."

"Thank you." The woman leaves, and you walk closer to the ghost RV. "Jordan was right, you know, on the plane."

"What are you talking about?" Derek asks Rossi.

"We hide behind language. We don't talk about the ugliness we see. We talk about facts, signatures, and pathology. We're working on a case where a family is grooming their son to kill. They're not just murdering people. They're stealing children and poisoning minds. Where's the horror?"

"We can't do this job if we let it get to us."

"Exactly."

You see the glass all over the ground as if it was placed there instead of something breaking. There is a bit more glass over by where one of the windows is, and you walk closer to inspect the area. Something in the grass shines off the sunlight, and you reach for it with a gloved hand.

"Guys."

With evidence from their parking spot, you bring it back to the police station so that the detective can examine it. This glass looks like the glass broken in Cate's house. They must have taken some glass from the crime scene and spread it around their RV before leaving.

"Is it a match?" you ask Bo.

"Yeah."

"The RV park owner was right. They spread it on purpose. Everything they do is part of some ritual they have to complete."

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?

"A family that ritualizes killing together? Definitely not."

"You know, if the family speaks Romanian, the spreading of the glass makes sense. It's an Eastern European superstition for good luck. They're not just Romanian, though. We're talking about people that are highly superstitious and obsessed with ritual."

"Romany. Gypsies," you say when Bo gives you a confused look. "More accurately, someone who has perverted Romany culture."

"Call Garcia," Rossi says to Derek who is already pulling out his phone. "They're tight-knit and nomadic like our unsubs, but not usually prone to violence."

"Hiya, baby," Penelope answers.

"Hey, baby girl, we need to talk."

"PG or NC-17?"

"You're on speakerphone," Derek says with a smile. "We need you to run through crimes similar to the Hale murders in the last two years."

"Oh, I already did that. Nothing comes up."

"Go back even further, Garcia. Cross-reference against any small towns that have had reports of petty theft associated with waves of gypsy populations entering the area."

"You got it."

"You need to get your men together right now," Rossi says once Pen hangs up.

"Why is that?" Bo asks.

"Because whatever ritual these people are trying to play out, we know Cate didn't fit their needs. That means they'll have to try again."

Bo immediately gathers his men and women so you can give out the profile.

"The unsubs we're looking for are a family," Hotch begins. "A father, a mother, and a son, approximately ten years old. We believe they're of Romanian descent. The family travels in an RV, but they also have another vehicle that they use to go back and forth between campsites and cities. We need you to call every RV park in the area and alert the owners to be on the lookout for a family that fits this description, as well as a campsite that might have broken glass scattered around."

"The breaking of the glass and the discarding of Cate Hale because of her epilepsy leads us to believe that these are highly superstitious people and that they are playing out a very specific ritual," you say. "The focus of this ritual is young girls."

"Do we know why?" an officer asks.

"No, but we do know from the location of Cate's house that they don't come across these girls by accident. They study. They hunt. Cate's father said that she liked to go to the movies at their local multiplex. That's a good place to start," Hotch says. "Also look at the parks and malls. Concentrate on those that are an easy drive from the RV parks you locate. This family is out there and they're looking for their next victim."

Derek walks into the room after being on the phone with Penelope. He doesn't look like he has good news.

"You guys need to see this right now."

"Excuse us,' Hotch says, and everyone from your team follows Derek into the next room. "What's going on?"

"Explain what you got, Garcia."

"Okay, I went ahead and went further back looking for similar cases and I made the search national. There are thirty of them. They go as far back as 1909 in South Dakota, New Mexico, and Indiana. My map is lit up like a Christmas Tree.

"All these girls were abducted and had their parents killed?"

"The time between the kills was long enough and the regions of the country were so spread out that it never showed up as serial."

"What the hell is this?" Rossi questions.

"I don't know, but it looks like it's been going on for generations."

While you're trying to figure out who this family is, they struck again. You knew it was coming because they got rid of Cate, and they are looking for another little girl to replace Cate. As soon as you get to the house, you see the same energies you saw at Cate's house and the trailer park. These people are moving fast, and it's going to be hard to catch up with them.

"Reid and I will check inside," Derek says.

"We've doubled our highway patrol shifts and we've got roadblocks at every county line," Bo says.

You walk closer to one of the broken windows and see glass on the ground. They took the glass to spread out later as part of their ritual.

"It's the same family, Hotch. They're bound to have hours on us."

"They didn't travel that far last time."

"The past killings have been years apart. We got lucky with Cate. Her epilepsy saved her life. If this new girl fits the unsub's need, we might have lost our window to catch them for years."

You leave their side and join Derek and Spencer who are in the master bathroom. You'll consider yourself lucky if you can find another life-altering medication that could save this newly kidnapped little girl. The master bedroom is covered in blood, and this time, the bodies are still in the bed.

"This is what I don't get. In both this house and the Hales' house, the girls' bedrooms were closest to the exit. I mean, the unsubs actually had to go out of their way to kill the parents before abducting the girls," Spencer says.

"We think it was a countermeasure. They've been doing this for years and they've never been caught. Why?"

"They disappear in the dead of night, they have a head start on the cops, and they don't kill again for years."

"Exactly," Derek says. "When I was a cop, I would get ten calls a day from parents in child abductions. Now, as sad as that is, if the families didn't stay on you, at a certain point, other cases would just start taking priority."

"What exactly are they doing with these girls?"

Derek's phone rings and he answers Penelope's call. The look on his face is haunting. Whatever Penelope told him, he didn't like. He leaves the bedroom to go find Rossi, and you and Spencer follow him outside.

"You're not going to believe this."

"What's wrong?" Bo asks.

"I think I know what they were doing with the girls. Garcia got a hit on a hair fiber in the blanket the unsubs used to wrap Cate. It belonged to Kathy Gray."

"Why does that name sound familiar?"

"She went missing in 1971 after her parents were murdered."

"You're telling me that little girl is now one of our unsubs?" you ask.

"That's what it looks like."

"Call Hotch and tell him and Prentiss not to come here, and to meet us at the station."

Families for generations have been kidnapping little girls to make them bond with their sons, only for that little girl to grow up and then become part of the newest generation of a killing machine. You're not even sure if Kathy remembers who she is or if she knows what she's doing, but you need to find her and wake her the hell up.

"My theory was half-right," you say when you walk into the police station.

Hotch is already on the phone with Penelope when half of the team arrives.

"A working theory from 1971 was that a transient killed the family and abducted Kathy Gray. Then, all the leads went cold."

"How do you watch your family get murdered and then make a life with the people who did it?" Jordan asks, disgusted.

"It's Stockholm Syndrome. You adapt or die, and now she's training her son to be a murderer. At a certain point, once traditions are handed down from generation to generation, there is no right or wrong. You simply accept the way the world works."

"The Romany is a closed society. The unsub simply twisted and distorted traditions to become entirely insular. Abducting the children keeps the bloodline pure, and killing the parents ensures that people eventually stop looking for them."

Bo walks in with his phone in hand and a worried look on his face.

"We got a report of an RV on fire about twenty miles from here."

"Dave, you, Reid, Y/N, and Morgan go check it out. Garcia, I need you to digitally alter Kathy's photograph to simulate what she would look like today."

"Consider it simulated."

You head out with the three men over to the RV you know Kathy and her family have ditched. They must know the police are getting close, and they might be getting ready to flee this city or even the state to keep up their facade. You'd like to tap into their energies to see where they went, but the fire has burned it all away like it's burning the RV to ashes.

"It was started less than an hour ago, so they can't be far," Bo says.

"It looks like they left almost everything. They got the girl they wanted. They're starting over." There are clothes lying on the floor that the fire hasn't completely burned alongside some mannequins, and Derek picks up the clothing with his gloved hand. "Look at the clothes. Most of them still have store sensors on them."

"How'd they get them past security scanners?" Bo asks.

"Tinfoil. Cate remembers being locked in a closet surrounded by clothing and tinfoil," you say. "Tinfoil would negate the security alarms."

"It makes sense. A lot of Romany make their living as petty thieves. It also explains the bells she heard. Cate says she remembers hearing the sound of bells followed directly by the father talking to the son. I think that's probably what the mannequins are for. School of the seven bells. When you dress a mannequin, you line a suit with seven bells. If you can pick his pocket without a bell ringing, you're ready to work a crowd."

"So, we know how they make their money."

"That's not all we know," Spencer says. "These unsubs are guided entirely by ritual. They abducted Lynn Robillard and killed her family in an area that they knew was surrounded by police and the FBI. They had to. They can't deviate."

"We also know that they're starting over, which means they're gonna need some money."

"Where's the closet shopping mall?" Rossi asks.

"About fifteen miles from here."

That's where this family is headed next.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Locked Out

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer gets locked out of his hotel room in his rush to talk to you, and overhears a conversation he was never meant to hear. Word Count: 1182 Warnings: None, I think? A/N: this is more of a blurb than a full fic, but I saw this gif and it gave me this idea

“More the hurry, more the obstacles.” -Welsh Proverb

~

You were sipping your crappy motel coffee and reviewing the case files when there was a knock on your door. You opened it to see Spencer Reid. 

Your best friend. 

In nothing but a tiny pink towel.

“Hey,” he said, clearly out of breath. “I had a breakthrough about the case.”

You cleared your head and looked at Spencer’s face. “And the reason you’re in a towel…?”

“Oh, I thought of it in the shower and needed to tell you right away.”

“You didn’t have time to put clothes on?” He shook his head and you said, “Okay, well get in here before someone we don’t know sees you.”

“Thanks. Okay, so I was thinking about the connection between the victims and-”

“Spence, I’d love to hear your thoughts but I’m concerned about that washcloth around your waist.” You dug through your go-bag and grabbed a pair of old sweats you’d stolen from your dad for sleep pants. “Put these on.”

After you turned around and covered your eyes, Spencer started explaining. “I was thinking about how there’s no obvious connection, such as appearance or age. You can turn around now.”

You turned back around. “And?”

“I had Garcia do a little digging. At first it looks like they’re victims of choice, but that doesn’t account for how they were killed in their homes.”

“So there must have been some other common factor. The geographic profile is too spread out for it to be the school district and all the women worked different jobs all over town.”

“Exactly. But Garcia looked at their credit card records for me.”

“What did she find?”

“They all went to the same salon within a month of their deaths. But they all went for different treatments. Emily Green went for a nail art treatment, Jody Summerfield went to get her hair dyed, Regina Allen got her eyebrows waxed, and Vanessa Lang went for um…” Spencer’s face turned as pink as the towel he was still holding. He cleared his throat, “She went for something called vaginal steaming.”

“So the salon is the common factor,” you said, choosing to ignore the awkwardness that Spencer was exuding. “Did they go on similar days or at similar times?”

“That’s the thing,” he said, going over to the desk where you’d put the files. “The only commonality is the salon. None of the employees overlapped and they all went at different times of day.”

You hummed, looking at the crime scene photos. “Maybe we should talk to the rest of the team, see what they think.”

Spencer nodded. “Yeah. We can go to the station and-” He stopped. 

“What?”

“I left my key in my room. I locked myself out.”

“What?”

“I locked myself out of my room. God!” He flopped down onto your bed. “I’m an idiot.”

“Hey, Spence,” you said, getting his attention .”Breathe. It’s okay. I’ll go to the office and get a spare, okay?”

He smiled at you. “You’re my savior.”

You scoffed, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Sure. I’ll be right back.” You grabbed your keys and a jacket before walking across the dingy motel parking lot to the office. After grabbing a spare key from the bored teenager at the desk, you headed back to your room. Before you got to the door, you ran into Morgan. 

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” he said. “So, I noticed Reid sneaking into your room earlier. You finally decide to bone down?”

You punched his muscled shoulder. “Shut up, Morgan!” you hissed, your face flushing. “No, that’s not what happened. And that’s not going to happen.”

“Come on, (Y/N), we all see the way you look at him. We all know you love him.”

“He’s my best friend, Derek. I can’t screw that up because I have feelings he doesn’t. I can’t lose him.”

“So, you’d rather live in the misery of not knowing?”

“If it means I don’t lose him? Absolutely.”

~

Little did you know, Spencer heard the entire conversation you’d had with Derek. And he had been madly in love with you since you joined the team.

He knew you didn’t want to mess up your relationship with him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t let you know how he felt. 

When the team got to the station to meet with the local officers, he brought you coffee- not crappy precinct coffee, but good, expensive coffee-shop coffee, made exactly to your liking. When he noticed you shivering in the cold of mid-November, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. When you lost your favorite pen, Spencer went out to the nearest office supply store and bought you a box full of replacement pens.

After the case was closed and the team boarded the jet to fly home, you decided to ask Spencer why he was being so generous over the past few days. After the rest of the team fell asleep, you sat next to Spencer on the sofa, tucking your legs up under your body. 

He smiled at you, setting his book on his lap. “Hey.” When you stayed silent, just looking at him, he said, “What are you thinking?” 

Spencer knew your mind better than anyone. You were his other half, the two of you being connected on a level no one else could match. 

“You’ve been weird,” you finally said. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“The $5 coffees, the new box of pens. What’s going on with you?”

He looked over the jet to double-check everyone was asleep. “I, uh, I heard you and Morgan talking outside the motel.”

Your face drained of color. “Spence, I-”

“(Y/N), please,” he said, cutting you off. “I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t need to say it.” He took your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. You watched his hands, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I love you too, (Y/N),” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “As so much more than a friend. And the idea of you being miserable hurt me. It physically causes me pain. You understand me in a way no one else does. I fell for you the first time I ever heard your laugh. I never told you because, well, because I had the same thoughts you had.” He squeezed your hand. “I never want to lose you, (Y/N). I love you.”

You smiled, your eyes welled with tears. “I love you too, Spence.”

“Well, it’s about damn time!” Morgan said as the rest of the team started clapping. 

You felt your face heat up and you hid your face in Spencer’s chest. 

“None of you were actually asleep?” Spencer asked, his eyes wide.

“No, we wanted to see if the two of you would finally own up to your feelings,” Emily said. “It was getting painful to watch.”

You just held up your hand that wasn’t laced with Spencer’s, flipping the team off.

~

“Vulnerability is the only bridge to connection.” - Brené Brown

[reidyoulikeabook]

hi i saw that your requests are open for the night for that list and i feel like 15&35 with spencer might be all i need to survive

anyways i’m on anon bc i’m scared you’ll hate this request but just know your writing is my favorite i would read your grocery lists at this point

excuse me i love this request please do not disparage yourself ever again <3 that’s the loveliest thing anybody has ever said to me and i will now think of you and this compliment whenever i write a grocery list

Ship: GN! (wears a bra, no mention of gender other than this) Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical case things, pining, mild thievery.

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: #15 - "You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

#35 - “Well fuck, didn’t expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

A/N: This got so ungodly long I’m so sorry I don’t even know if I can call this a blurb at this point it’s a full fic but I loved this idea so much and it ran away from me.

PLEASE let me know what you think because I bashed this out in the span of an hour and I’m not sure if I love or hate it.

--

Rossi’s spitballing theories behind you. Your head lolls on the desk, feeling far too heavy to attempt lifting up at this time of night. The case was hard, you were sleeping in shifts, and somehow you, Rossi, and Reid had drawn the short straw. Your eyes are blearing a little too much to make out the exact time on the clock, it’s on the opposite side of the room and your eyes burn when you squint to look at the time; you’re fairly certain you’re somewhere on the wrong side of 3am.

23 hours awake.

Sighing, you push yourself up, looking around and only now noting that Spencer isn’t in the room. He must have made his exit while you were flicking through the files making notes, it was often easier to do that with your headphones in.

Thankfully, you'd set up shop in a conference room at the hotel, given the local PD was tiny and barely equipped to handle its own officers.

“What about the meat packing district?” Rossi muses.

It’s a rhetorical question but one you actually have an answer to, “I don’t think so. The busiest part of the city is between the meat packing district and where he’s dumping the bodies. Cops do random stop-and-searches sometimes, I don’t know if he’d risk it.”

“He could drive around.”

You frown, thinking, “He’d be crossing state lines. Hey, wait,” You stand up from your chair, walking to the board and starting drawing circles that illustrate your point, “Spencer thought there must be a pattern, right? But it died off here and we didn’t know about any more victims. If we expanded the search to outside of state lines it might connect here, here, and here,” You circle each here with a point, tapping the pen against the board triumphantly.

Rossi smiles, “Good thinking kid. I’ll call Garcia.”

Exhausted from your breakthrough, you flop back down into the chair. The clothes you’ve been wearing are icky, uncomfortable with sweat and flying and you’re strongly regretting your choice in underwear now too.

You hear the door swing open, looking up to see Spencer entering the room. Holding your go-bag. The one you’d left on the jet this morning. The jet that was a two hour drive from your current location.

“Where did you? When did you?” Your incoherency is related to both your tiredness, and his thoughtfulness.

He smiles, “It took some calling around but I found a cab driver willing to go and pick it up. It just got here.”

“Spencer I-,” You start, scrambling to your feet to accept the bag he’s offering to you, “Thank you. That’s so sweet of you. How much was the cab?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He says, handing it to you and heading over to the board, “What are these?”

Rossi - who was watching the exchange with some amusement - starts explaining the eureka moment you’d had. Spencer nods along, turning to smile at you when Rossi credits the thought to you. It’s something he does a lot, Rossi’s noticed. Not in a condescending way, Spencer knows more than anyone just how capable you are at your job. It’s as if he needs to channel his love for you somewhere, and chooses pride. It’s the easiest one to explain, after all, because who isn’t happy for their colleague making breakthroughs?

That’s how Spencer justifies it anyhow.

You leave the room, heading to the bathroom to change. You’re incredibly grateful to slip out of your dirty clothes and the bra that’s cutting into you, so much so that you decide to pop on a t-shirt under your blazer. The sports bra and t-shirt combo revitalises you more than you thought possible for this hour.

Digging through, you find an item that you didn’t pack. A pair of brown fluffy slippers. Attached to them, a note, ‘I thought the heels on your boots looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want your feet to hurt. - Spencer.

He signed the note. Something about that, alongside the gift itself, sends a flush of warmth through you.

He gave you his slippers

So?

Is that something friends do?

Wracking your brain, you try to think up if he’d do this for anyone else. Hotch? The thought makes you laugh. Emily? Maybe, actually. If she didn’t make it so hard for others to take care of her. Penelope? Almost definitely.

Your heart sinks a little, and you distract yourself by fumbling to get your work boots off and the slippers on.

It doesn’t matter it isn’t romantic, it matters that he did it.

It matters to every other person you date

He sets an impossibly high bar

Thankfully, the late hour means that there aren’t many local PD still hanging around to see your interesting choice of shoe. You slip through to the conference room, where Spencer and Rossi are huddled over the phone talking to Garcia.

Spencer does a double-take. He knew the gift he’d given you, but he hadn’t expected to see you...wearing them? You look beautiful: hair mussed from fiddling with it, an old college t-shirt under your blazer, brown fluffy slippers on your feet. The mix of professional and homely attire does something to him that he can’t quite explain, and he has to clear his throat before making his next point to Garcia.

Did he just blush?

You try not to stare at him, try not to see if that’s a tinge of red creeping up under his turtleneck.

It is.

“Thanks Garcia,” Rossi clips, hanging up the phone, “I’m going to go and find some coffee. You two,” He points, looking knowingly between you, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

No sooner has Rossi left the room, you both try speaking at once.

“You look-” He starts.

“Thank you so-” You start.

You both tinge with warmth.

“You go first,” He says, gnawing at his plump lower lip, finger turning oer the pen in his hand.

You laugh, a little breathless, “Well fuck, I wasn’t expecting to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

His eyebrows quirk, is that...hope?

No. Wishful thinking

It’s probably confusion, and you’re a little embarassed, so you quickly clarify, “I mean Spencer Reid this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m endebted to you forever, really.”

A look washes over him: disappointment? You can’t trust your eyes to see the clock, so you feel you can’t entrust them to analyse his micro-expressions right now either. Especially when you’re biased by personal desire.

“It’s no problem,” He says, voice cracking a little, “You look...” He trails off.

“Unprofessional?” You suggest, teasing.

He shakes his head, swallowing, “You look really nice.”

It’s your turn to swallow. You drop your gaze to the pen, feeling too flustered to continue looking your colleague in the eyes at this moment in time, “Thank you. Where did you get slippers at this time of night?”

He shifts, one hand settling over the wrist of the other and fingers nervously rubbing over the back of his hand, “They were uhm. They were mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” It comes out pitchy, a squeak, “I’m sorry, that’s probably weird I just thought-”

“No, Spence,” You say, looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile, “No, it’s really sweet. I’m really lucky to have you.”

He gives his signature tiny tight-lipped smile, the one he gives when he’s feeling awkward or suppressing something he wants to say but can’t.

Please let it be the latter.

You relinquish him of the obligation of responding, instead standing to join him at the board, “You think you’ve got enough to make a geographical profile out of this?”

He nods, tapping the board with his pen, “Your idea about crossing interstate lines was really smart.”

“I have my moments.”

He wants to tell you that everything you have is a moment. You want to step closer, to cup his face in your hands, to press a kiss to the lips that you swear are pouting, begging to be kissed. You don’t.

Namely, because Rossi chooses this moment to re-enter the room, clutching three cups of coffee, “A little help here?”

From the way you spring apart, despite not even being that close, he wishes he’d taken a little longer. Damn kids and their inability to express their feelings for one another.

***

It’s 4:30am when the alarm on your phone goes off. With the work of the four of you - Garcia sporadically included when she had genius updates - you’ve managed to uncover a pattern that arches across states. You’d called Hotch, who’d commended the good work and advised that you should head to bed at 4:30. The others would get up then, and start to head out to the different potential crime scenes. Local PD was already on it.

You’d been told under no uncertain terms that you were to rest until at least 10am. Unless there was a call from Hotch. You prayed there wouldn’t be.

Rossi’s off the minute the alarm rings, bustling out the door with a “See you later kids.”

You wait behind while Spencer packs his things into his satchel. Or rather, unpacks his things from his satchel, frantically tearing it apart.

“What are you looking for?” You ask.

“My key card,” He murmurs, “I swear it was in my wallet.”

“You were rooming with Morgan, right? Want me to call him?”

“Yes please,” He says, continuing to unearth the contents of his bag onto the desk, with an increasing degree of agitation every second that goes by.

You dial Morgan’s number, and he answers after two rings, “Hey kid.”

You put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Hey. I’m with Spencer, we’re about to head up to our rooms for the night, are you still here? He can’t find his keycard.”

He lets out a breath of air through his teeth, “Sorry, I’m already on my way to one of the crime scenes. Local PD found a body over the state line. Nobody’s at the hotel but you guys and Rossi.”

Spencer outwardly sighs.

“No problem, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright, good work kid, get some rest.”

The phone line clicks. Spencer’s brow is pinched with frustration, and your heart breaks for him. You’ve all been awake well over 24 hours, and he looks exhausted. He’s more eyebag than man at this point.

“Do you want me to go to the front desk?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Reception doesn’t open until 6am. I’ll just wait here until then.”

He starts packing the belongings back into his bag, a resigned look on his face. And you have an idea.

“Actually,” You say, pulling the keycard out of your pocket and sliding it across the table to him, “You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

He picks the card up, squinting in confusion.

“Me and Rossi both got put in single rooms. I mean, it might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, both of us in a single bed, but it’s better than nothing right?”

He opens his mouth to object, and you shake your head.

“Spence you look like you’re about to drop unconscious on the floor and I don’t want to be responsible for yet another injureid.”

You’re so tired that the pun seems hilarious to you, and it does elicit a small laugh from him.

“Come on, it’s either share a bed with me, share a bed with Rossi, or try to sleep in one of these chairs. And I’ll be honest, I’d be kind of offended if you’d rather either of the other two options.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” He says, obviously warming up to the offer but not wanting to push his luck. You can hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“You can. But you won’t,” You tell him, settling your go-bag on your shoulder, “And might I remind you that all this time you’re spending objecting are minutes we could be spending sleeping.”

That seems to win him over. He tucks everything back into his bag, zipping it up, “After you.”

“You have the keycard,” You smile, “After you.”

***

The bed is a single bed. It prompts another round of ‘No really, I can sleep on the floor’ from Spencer, your enquiries about if it’s too much for his germaphobia or issues with touching, and his blushy embarassed reassurance that he doesn’t mind if it’s you.

He doesn’t mind if it’s you.

Not as if you’ll spend the next year mulling over those words or anything.

When you get out of the bathroom from changing, Spencer is tucked up in bed. Well, you say tucked up, but he’s practically lay right on the edge. How he’s actually physically still being supported by the mattress at this point must be his physics magic.

“I thought I said I didn’t want you getting injured,” You say, crossing the room to him.

He opens his eyes, “I didn’t want to-”

“It’s okay Spence,” You tell him, huddling down into bed.

There’s about enough room for you both to fit in, with an inch between you, so you pull gently at his arms, urging him closer.

“There’s enough room for us both without you going flying in the night,” You tell him.

He nods, obviously still a little nervous. It’s odd, lying face to face with him, illuminated only by lamplight. He looks soft. He always does, but there’s something intimate about this. You can feel his breath fan across your cheek, can feel how heat radiates off his arms.

“Do you want me to turn the lamp off?” He asks.

It’s not your staring that implores him to ask, because he’s been staring at you too. The both of you, trapped in a perfect bubble of a moment. Lamplight a spotlight, highlighting all the features of the person you love most.

“Sure,” You whisper, breath catching in your throat.

He flicks it off, settling back down.

His breath brushes against your face when he asks, “Do you want me to turn around?”

“Do you want to?”

He hesitates for a moment, voice even softer when he answers, “No.”

It’s dark. You can hardly make out his outline. Yet somehow, you both just know. Shifting, infitismally closer. Breaching the tiniest gap between you somehow feels like crossing the Grand Canyon. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you can feel it in your fingers, the fingers that trace cautiously along his jaw.

His mouth finally, finally, slotting against yours in the most gentle of kisses. A blink and you’d miss it.

And yet, in the same blink, your life changes forever.

When Rossi makes a speech at your wedding, he admits to being the thief of the missing keycard, and intentional orchestrator of the greatest love story he’s ever known. His words.

---

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