#reidxreader

[moonlightphilosopher]

3/2 A series

So on one of my Polls I asked what I should do, and the clear result is I start A series (even though it was for my rookie fanficideas, I kinda catches up on the idea to start one parraell to it and choose criminal minds, as if I can’t write on the one I can write for the other)

it’s probably just a mini series, since I am lazy, but there is a possibility that it’s going to be also a long one.anyway

It’s going to be in the criminal mind fandom: so Till now I would more say it’s going to be Reader (=yn) x Luke Alvez or Penelope Gracia (she is such a cool character) and yes I Worte homsexuell stories/ideas, simply because I am omni myself

but I will let you vote since it’s for you not me

thanks

[eideticmemory]

BETTER OFF AS LOVERS | SPENCER REID

Three years after ending your relationship with Spencer Reid, you find yourself representing him in court on federal murder charges.

Word Count: 12k.

Warning/Includes: MAJOR CW for Spencer’s dilaudid arc and graphic mentions of drug use. Prison!Spencer, Lawyer!Reader. Bounces between the past and present through bold italics. Mentions of murder, prison, and violence. A little bit of smut.

Because both you and Spencer are compulsive overachievers, it’s been hard to ignore each other. He saves a kids life every other week and your quick wit has taken you to the (very near) top of the DC law food chain. He picks up a newspaper, you’re smiling arm in arm with the district attorney. You turn on the TV, he’s up there declaring national manhunts. It’s hard to avoid each other, but you have both tried so, very hard.

So hard, in fact, that when Spencer is lying in a jail cell, waiting for any sign of life to shine through the bars, he is not even thinking about you. He’s thinking about his mom. His job. His future. His very recent past. But not you. And even though he doesn’t realize it in the moment, it’s a blessing. He should’ve taken the moment to be grateful.

When Emily comes up to his cell, he hops up and all the thoughts stuck in his head rush out in word vomit. Why isn’t she in the office? How is the office? How’s his mom? And once he learns that everything else is perfectly fine, he remembers that he, alone, is fucked.

And Emily’s very good at that soft voice, that everything will be okay voice, but she doesn’t know that. Not really. Spencer knows that she doesn’t and he swallows himself in self pity, saying, “I don’t even have a lawyer.”

“About that…” Emily says before a beat can pass. “I, um…I made a call…”

Spencer tilts his head at her.

“I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

You’re eating lunch when you get the call. You have a sandwich held in your mouth as you scribble notes on a legal pad which you promptly cross out.

“Miss [y/l/n]?” your receptionist announces herself at the door.

You drop your sandwich, “Hey,” you smile. “Yes?”

“You have an Emily Prentiss on the line for you. Do you want me to patch her through?”

Your smile drops, you can’t help it. Your heart sinks to the very bottom of your stomach and you have to clear your throat, remind yourself to breathe.

“No,” you shake your head. “No,” you stand to your feet. “No, thank you. I’ll answer her in here.”

You close your office door behind her. You close the blinds. You stare at the blinking light on the phone for what feels like hours. You take a seat at your desk, you stare some more. Then you pick up the phone.

“This is [y/n].”

“Hi, [y/n]. It’s Emily Prentiss.”

“Emily…” you breathe out. “Hey.”

“Do you have a moment to talk?”

You sigh, “Is…is this about Spencer?”

Emily pauses, just for a moment, but she knows it’s best to be honest, “It is.”

“Is he dead?” It seems blunt. But, to you, it sounds like a fair and natural question.

Emily clears her throat, “He’s in jail.”

Maybe she expected a gasp. A soft cry. But all you do is close your eyes and draw in a deep breath. You say, “Okay.”

“Now, I understand if you decline. I do. But I have to ask…are you available to come to Quantico for a legal consult with me? Just me?”

You stare at the ceiling, grinding your teeth so hard that you think your jaw may crack under the pressure. And in the span of just two hours, you tell her yes. You reschedule your afternoon meeting. You walk through a metal detector and pat down in Quantico. Yet, you’re not truly in your body until you step on the elevator. You feel yourself rising through the building and the familiarity of it hits you like lightening. You think, not now. You cannot break down now.

Later.

You stand and look over at Spencer’s empty desk, only for a moment and then you tear yourself away. You knock on Emily’s open door and she immediately stands when you sees you, “[y/n], hi,” she moves around her desk, “Hi, thanks for coming.”

You give her a hug, and she holds on for longer than she means to. She looks you in the eye and asks, “How are you?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

She sighs, walking back to her desk as you close the door. “We’ve been better.”

You take a seat across from her, look around the office, and now you smile, “I like you in here, chief.”

She chuckles, “I assume you heard about Hotch?”

You nod, “I did…only courthouse rumblings.”

“Yeah, well, uh, team’s been good,” she rummages around her desk. “Pushing through. I see you’ve climbed the ladder in recent years.”

You shrug, smirking, “All bribes.”

She laughs, “Oh, c’mon, we both know that’s not true. You’re the best of the best. I wouldn’t have called you if you weren’t.”

And when she sees the light go out in your eyes, reminded by the reality of the situation, she does nothing but set the file in front of you. You exhale quickly out of your nose and you stare at Spencer’s name etched along the edge. You pick it up and place it in your lap, ducking your head to read it. His mugshots nearly make you gasp, but you stifle it. You put your finger to your lips and you try. You try so hard not react. Not in front of Emily, even though she can read you anyway.

You read the entire file. Front to back. Your eyes flick off of the last word and you slam the manilla folder closed. You look up at Emily, her looking at you, waiting for you, so patiently. You open your mouth, and she prepares herself for whatever you could say. Anything. Everything. She’s prepared.

You breath out, “He was high?”

She was not prepared for that.

She shakes her head, “He was drugged. The guy we’re after is notorious for using drugs to incapacitate his victims.”

You nod, “And let me guess. The bureau won’t help with his legal defense?”

She shakes her head, “He broke protocol.”

You roll your eyes, “Stupid…”

“[y/n],” she calls to you.

You look up at her, raising your eyebrows.

“I understand if you don’t wanna be involved. I know defense isn’t your normal side of the bench. But I meant it when I said you’re the best of the best. When I didn’t know who else to call, I called you. That doesn’t mean you have to agree to this.”

You look out the window and your eyes fall on Spencer’s desk once again. It is empty like he has not been there for weeks, lifeless. You turn back to Emily, “Where are they holding him?”

In the dead of night, you burst into the law library in town. It was pouring rain outside and when the receptionist saw you drenched and leaving muddy footprints behind you, she asked, “You need any help, hon?”

“No, thank you,” you called, but you did not stop moving. You marched over to the torts section, you knew it all by heart. You swiped your fingers over every author, noting the alphabet in your head and you were slightly enraged to find that the book you needed was missing. You groaned and checked again. Then again and again. You sighed. You looked around the dimly lit library and it was almost instant. You saw his table, you saw the book, and then you saw him.

And before you really knew what you were doing, you were walking up to him and he was so entranced in reading that he didn’t even look up at you.

“How much longer are you gonna be?” you asked him. And then he looked at you. You thought, oh wow he’s pretty, but you were on a mission here.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“With the book. How much longer do you think you’ll be?”

“Uh…I probably have…about a hundred pages left so…five, six minutes maybe?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Are you fucking with me?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, an awkward laugh, an uncomfortable laugh, but mainly an oh fuck a pretty girl is talking to me laugh. “No. No. You can…sit and watch, I swear. Time me if you want.”

You looked at him, arms crossed. You checked your watch and nodded, taking a seat, “Fine. Five minutes. Go.”

He gave you a small smile and then went back to it. You watched him trace his fingertip down the page, flick to the next one and down he traced again. You were curious. But irritated. But intrigued? You checked your watch with one minute to go and he went, “Okay, done,” and slid the book across the table.

You caught it in your palm, and looked up at him, “You are so full of shit.”

“What?”

“There’s no way you just read all of that in five minutes. There’s no way.”

“But there is a way because I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

He laughed, “I can recite it all to you right now. Front to back.”

“Where are you?” he seemed confused by this question so you continued, “Hm? George Washington? UDC?”

“Quantico.”

“Oh, you are so full of shit!” you went to grab the book and leave but he wasn’t ready for you to go.

“No, no, wait. Seriously. Look at my badge,” he pulled it right out of his bag. “I just got it today.”

You took a look, and when it wasn’t clear enough, you stepped closer, held it in your hands.

Spencer Reid. Behavioral Analysis Unit.

You handed it back to him, “Never met a twelve year old fed.”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected you. “And, uh…I get that a lot.”

“And what does a twenty-three year old fed need with a first year law book?”

He shrugged, “Just light reading.”

You rolled your eyes and he could just tell that you wanted to smile and so he smiled so big at you, hoping it would rub off.

“Book’s all yours,” he said. “I’ll find another.”

No smile.

“A-a-and if you’d like to…I-I don’t know…stay out of the rain, I’d…like it if you’d…maybe sit and read with me?”

You bit down on your lip and you hesitated, looked around as you weighed your options. Then, you took a seat. He grinned over at you as you flipped the book open and it was there.

Small, but a smile.

Back in holding, Spencer sits. He waits. He digs his nails into the bandage on his hand and his knee won’t stop bouncing. The same thoughts rush through his head, but every so often they are cut off by images of you. Every you. Every season. The last time he saw you. His breath catches so tightly in his chest that he actually hunches over in pain, squeezes his fist. His eyes keep darting towards the door, anxious, quick, hoping you’ll come. Hoping you won’t.

What gives it away is your heels. They’re fast and they’re loud, a rapid click-clack-click-clack on the floor. He sits up straight, holds his hands in his lap, forces his leg to stop shaking. Emily walks in first, and in behind her comes you. Picture perfect, dolled up, professional you. Your eyes connect and it should make him nauseous. Instead, his body relaxes. You’re the one that’s nauseous.

“Well,” Emily says to cut the tension. “I know this is an legal meeting so I’ll just give you two some privacy.” And she gets the hell out of there.

You step to the side as the door closes behind her. You set your brief case down on the table and have a seat. As the two of you sit in silence, Spencer feels that you’re judging him. Scolding him, staring him down. But all you’re thinking about is how much his hair has grown, from his head and from his face and underneath it all, he is still him.

You clear your throat, look away, “I’m obligated to remind you that everything you share here is kept confidential by attorney-client privilege.”

“I didnt use,” he spits out.

You pause, your eyes cutting up to him. He is staring into your soul. He wants you to hear him.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head. “I wouldnt. I swear.”

You have to let that simmer in the air for a moment. You have to swallow it like a large pill, let it force its way down your throat and into your stomach. Through your bloodstream.

“I believe you,” you say. “Tell me what happened.”

“I-I…I did not kill her.”

You nod, “…okay. What else.”

“I-I…don’t remember anything else.”

“Well that…doesn’t help me here. It doesn’t matter if you say you didn’t kill her and you know that. What matters is evidence. The facts of the case.”

“I’m telling you I don’t remember anything, [y/n]. If I did, I would tell you but the entire thing is a-a blur.”

“And I’m telling you I can’t do anything with that.”

“Just… tell me what you really want to say.”

You consider it.

“I’m not here to judge you,” you tell him. “I’m here to build you a legal defense.”

“Whatever’s going through your head, I can take it,” he huffs. “Tell me.”

You purse your lips at him. You shake your head. But he insists. He peers into your eyes in waiting. Begging.

You inhale and with a hefty wave of breath, you shout, “Going to Mexico? Not telling anyone where you are? Smuggling experimental drugs across the border? Are you serious?”

He nods. He takes the blows as they land.

“Do you even comprehend the shit hole that you’ve dug for yourself? I mean, honestly, you-you should go to prison for at least,” you pinch your fingers. “A little bit because it should be a crime to be this stupid with an IQ that high,” and you punctuate it all with a sigh of relief.

Spencer sniffles, “Feel better?”

“No,” you say instantly. And you say this next part very clearly, “Because I can’t promise you that you won’t go to prison.”

The reason that you and Spencer worked so well together, you think - you thought - is that there was a certain amount of independence. After your meeting in the library, after all the pulling he did to sweep you off your feet, you decided that yes, you could do this. You could have a boyfriend who traveled for work. You could handle not seeing him for days or weeks on end. Just in your second year of law school, you thought: I will never have time to miss him. I will drown in school work and textbooks until he returns. It will not phase me. It will not change me.

Then you kind of fell in love with him. And suddenly you always, always had time to miss him.

“Hey,” you found yourself smiling when he called. On the other side of the country, it was only nine but you were in DC still studying at midnight.

“Hey, honey,” Spencer cooed. “I knew you’d be awake.”

“Like I could sleep at a time like this? No, thank you, this is all nighter territory.”

“Sorry I won’t be there the day of your exam.”

“Don’t worry about it. They need you out there more than I do.”

“I know, I know, I’d just slow you down,” he laughed.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” you nodded. “But…I miss you…wish you were here to slow me down.”

“Soon.”

“I know.”

“And, y’know, if we just moved into together, it could be even sooner.”

“Ooh, yeah, and we could get a plant too and watch it die a slow death because no one’s ever home.”

He cackled, quieted down as he whispered, “Just…try to actually get some sleep, okay? You can’t pass your exam if you’re exhausted. And make sure you have a good breakfast. A real breakfast, not coffee and some pop tarts. At least toaster strudels, okay? And afterwards, take yourself out for lunch or-or take someone with you. But don’t sit and think about it and drive yourself crazy. You’re gonna do great. You always do.”

You nodded, stifling a soft laugh, “Yes, doctor. Anything else?”

He shrugs to himself, “Just that I miss you. I can’t wait to see you.”

You grinned, “Soon.”

When your alarm went off at seven in the morning, you checked your phone to see that Spencer had woken himself up, three hours behind, to send you a message.

Two words: Toaster strudels!!!!

And over the next few days, you were truly too busy to miss him. You took your exam at ten o’clock on the dot and you took his advice, you went out to lunch. You thought about the exam only a little bit, to run through it with your friends before you started day drinking, and then there was nothing to do but wait. Keep yourself busy.

As soon as the jet lifted off, Spencer called you. Your phone was buried at the bottom of your bag, which was swinging against your hip as you walked across campus. You didn’t realize it was ringing until the very last second and by the time you pulled it out, he had already left you a voicemail.

As you waded through the crowd to see your posted exam score, you held the phone to your ear and listened.

“Hey! Hey, [y/n], we’re, uh, on the way back now. Safe and sound. I should be there by this afternoon. Uh, let me know if you get your exam results, okay? I’m so excited to see you. Call me when you can.”

Posted on the wall was the glare of your future, staring you in the face, chewing into your soul and you dropped the phone back in your bag.

When Spencer landed and still hadn’t heard from you, he slowly came to expect bad news. He bought you flowers on the way home, he called you, he texted multiple times to tell you he’d be coming over. He walked up to his apartment solely to drop off his things and before he could get to the door, he stopped in his tracks.

You stood up quickly, your face breaking out into a wide smile. Your hands shook and all you could say was, “I passed! I-I passed!”

And in an instant, he dropped everything except your flowers and ran to you, engulfing you in a big, tight hug. “Of course you did!” he shouted. “Oh, god [y/n], of course you did! Here…” he released you so he could rush to unlock the door.

“And I didn’t just pass, babe. I passed with flying fucking colors!” You let yourself into his apartment, still rambling while he dragged his things inside. He stood in awe as you paced around the living room, throwing your hands in the air. “Do you know what this means? I could be a real lawyer any day now!”

You looked at him, huffing and puffing with this toothless, wide smile that sat in your cheekbones. So happy and pretty that he forgot how to talk. “T-These are for you,” he stuttered, walking over to you with a bright bouquet of flowers.

Your eyes darted to the flowers, but only for a moment and then back to Spencer, and he was looking at you with so much love that you felt it in the pit of your stomach. You held eye contact with him as you took hold of the flowers, your fingers overlapping for a split second. And in one swift motion, you pulled him in by the back of his neck and dropped the flowers on the couch. It stunned him, sure, but it was instinct for him to grab onto your hips and kiss you. That is, after all, exactly what you wanted him to do.

You stood of the tip of your toes, took hold of his face and balled your fist in his hair. He grunted against your lips, held onto you tight as you dragged him into his bedroom.

“Okay, okay, okay, just-“ he stuttered as you tore off his shirt. His head got caught, the two of you burst into laughter, and you gave him a kiss as soon as the shirt hit the floor. You swiped his books off of his bed and laid yourself down, pulling him on top of you. When your pants got suffocating, you flipped him over so you could take them off. Your boobs hung in his face as you grabbed a condom from the nightstand and he ran his hands all over your body. Even when he could hardly breathe because you were rolling the condom onto him, he caressed your thighs and his nails rolled on your skin.

You giggled, going, “Stop, that tickles.”

He said, “Sorry,” and tickled you again, laughing as your body squirmed around and you chuckled into a kiss with him.

You were usually a lot softer with him. No rush. But the adrenaline in your body had you bouncing on his cock so quickly that you wondered if the whole bed might cave in. You kept looking at Spencer to make sure he was enjoying himself he was enjoying himself. His head was hanging off the bed, hanging loose from his neck and his mouth was wide open, releasing some of the loudest moans you’ve ever heard from him. When he realized he was getting close, he would grab your hips real tight, you’d stop and after a few breaths, he’d let you go. He’d let you get right back to it.

Afterwards, you collapsed beside him and tucked yourself in the crook of his arm, your hand on his heaving chest. You kissed him softly and he moaned, “Mm…” rubbing your back. “I love when you get a good grade.”

You cackled and threw your head back, tracing his bottom lip with your fingertip, “I love when you’re home.”

“Oh!” he suddenly shouted. “Speaking of, we have dinner reservations on our anniversary at seven. I’ll probably get called out before then but I will be back in time. I promise.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Then I’m a bad boy. A very bad boy,” he grinned, leaning into you as you laughed.

You held his face, gave him a kiss and nodded, “It’s a date.”

And he did eventually get called out again just over a week before your reservation. You have a very vivid memory of kissing him goodbye the day he left. He was himself. He was happy, and towards the end of the week, he called overly cocky saying that this case would be wrapped up soon. That he’d be home with a night to spare.

He lied.

People know you here. When you speak with the distric attorney on Spencer’s case, he knows you. He knows Spencer. And that should make it easy to negotiate here, but it unfortunately makes it that much harder. Luckily, you’re as stubborn as you are determined and with a bit of sparkle, you can get Spencer down to two to five years in federal prison.

That is, until new evidence arises. In that moment, all the oxygen and arguing and fight you’ve given goes out the window. Emily trails up beside you when you return, saying, “I just got the news. What now?”

“Now,” you sigh. “We tell Spencer.”

And as soon as you walk into the room, he is rising to his feet, staring at you. His eyes scan over your features and he goes, “That’s not a good face. What happened?”

“I…” you start. “Was able to talk Martinez down to involuntary manslaughter.”

“Manny Martinez?” he interrupts you.

“Yes,” you enunciate. “And he offered two to five years.”

Emily glances at Spencer, and asks you, “A deal? Well, that could mean they know they have a weak case?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “But they could also just be in a rush to close this with minimal publicity.”

Looking to Spencer, you owe him the truth, “But they found the murder weapon in the desert. About an hour ago. The blood and prints are yours.”

The words knock the air out of him like a strong punch to the chest. You can see his eyes zone out, stuck on the floor as he sits himself down and tries to breathe. Emily is spinning gears in her head but you cannot stop watching him.

“Okay, so, where do we go from here?” she asks you.

“Well, the two to five quickly came off the table. Now, it’s five to ten at minimum.” Still, you watch Spencer. He can’t stand to look at you.

“And this is the only way he can avoid trial?”

You purse your lips and nod, shrugging, “Plead guilty to involuntary manslaughter, write a statement to the bureau. That’d be the end of it. Any other course of action will require presenting evidence to a jury.”

When Spencer finally decides to lift his head and speak, he looks you dead in the eye and asks, “Do you think I should take it?”

Your face visibly softens and you shrug, “Beats twenty-five to life. Which they will sentence if you’re found guilty, and with this evidence…it’s likely…”

He looks at Emily and when he cannot take the look of pity in her eyes for one more second, he asks you, specifically, “May I speak to you alone, [y/n]?”

You glance at Emily and nod, “Sure.”

The door closes and Spencer, comfortable enough to let his guard down, suddenly stands from the chair, hiding his face in his hands. He paces around the small room and pulls at the root of his hair. It’s very unlike him but in this moment, he says, “Fuck.”

“Yes,” is all you can add. “What do you want to do here, Spencer?”

“I-I-I don’t know. You’re my lawyer, can’t you just tell me what I should do? Tell me what to do.”

“I can’t do that. I’m not the one facing prison here. You have two options, okay? If you want to take your chances in court, I will be there. I will bring every weapon in my arsenal to defend you, but I can’t guarantee that the outcome will be better than five to ten.”

He shakes his head, “The team will crack the case. They will. They’ll catch Scratch and they’ll clear my name.”

“Oh, my…when?” you raise your voice. You don’t mean to. “This month? This year? This decade? Who knows? W-who knows how long you could be locked up before they catch a break?”

He sniffles, one single tear falling down his cheek as his head falls in defeat, “What…what do I do, [y/n]?” he cries. “Just tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

And against ever fiber of your being, you instinctively cross the room and engulf him in a hug. He sobs into your neck and holds your waist in tight in his arms, breaks down when you run your hand through his hair.

He’s hurting but this helps. This helps a lot.

“Hey!” you answered Spencer’s phone with a joyous greeting. “Hi, Diana. Hi! It’s [y/n], how are you?”

And while she was beyond excited to talk to you, she rambled about her son. How he hadn’t called her in close to a week. How she missed the sound of his voice. “It just isn’t like him,” she said. “It just isn’t like Spencer. He calls me. He calls me everyday. Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you stood over him in bed. “Yeah, he’s okay. He’s, uh, he’s…”

He waved you off, silently ordering you to hang up and leave him alone. He rolled over onto his side and hid his face under the blankets. He wanted to make sure he was as avoidant as possible.

“He’s just…tired. But I know he…he’d love to speak with you…”

He did not move. And he had not moved since returning home from Tobias Hankel. He just hadn’t. You weren’t sure if he ever would. But as you continued to talk on the phone, the sound of your voice going, “Yeah, yeah,” grating his nerves, he hopped out of bed and went straight for the bathroom. The door slammed, it locked and you just hoped Diana didn’t hear it.

“Yeah,” you told her. “Yeah, he’s busy right now. Y’know, case paperwork and such. I can have him call you back?”

Then there’s a thud. Loud. It shakes the floor of the entire apartment and your breath catches in your throat.

“Yes, of course. I will have him call you,” you stared at the bathroom door. “I promise. Okay. Alright, bye.”

You rushed to the bathroom, immediately trying to open the door but it was locked. You wiggled the knob, you pounded on it, calling, “Spencer? Spencer?”

You found the key on top of the sill, with your hands trembling as you shoved it into the lock. When the door swung open, it stopped against something. Something heavy, something big. So you pushed and shoved enough that you could poke your head in and when you did, you screamed. You shrieked at the top of your lungs. The thing blocking the door, the thing laid out on the floor.

It was Spencer.

Spencer is due to appear in court this morning. You’re going to vomit.

You arrive promptly with thirty minutes to spare and you spend that time trying to find your client. Though you do not see his face, you notice him standing at the phone, dressed to impress in a sharp suit. His hand bandaged in the least disgusting way possible.

“Mom,” he says into the reciever. “I want you know that I’m safe and I have a great lawyer.”

You cross your arms over your chest, stand firm behind him and proudly eavesdrop.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it’s actually, um…[y/n]. Yeah, no. No, we’re not back together, she just…she’s a great lawyer. The best.”

And he goes looking for you, at the mention of your name, he starts scanning the room, like he can feel you somewhere. Somewhere. He turns around to find you leaning against the wall. He smiles. He can’t help it. Neither can you. You throw up a small wave and he waves back.

He speaks into the phone, telling Diana, “She says hi.”

The judge comes into the courtroom and almost immediately, she looks ready to leave. You weren’t nervous before, you don’t think Spencer was all that much either. But now, shit is getting real. Shit is getting very real.

“Miss [y/l/n],” she says to you. “Your client is a federal agent?”

You rise to your feet, nodding, “That’s correct, your honor.” You both notice Spencer still sitting and you whisper through your teeth, “Stand the hell up,” and he stands the hell up.

“Some very serious offenses brought against you today,” she tells him.

“Yes, your honor,” he nods.

“Miss [y/l/n], does your client wish to enter a plea at this time?”

You nod, “He does.”

“And how do you plead, Agent Reid?”

Spencer looks her in the eye and proclaims, “Not guilty.” You hope nobody sees you roll your eyes.

“Mhm,” the judge nods. “And as to bail?”

“The people oppose bail and request remand, your honor,” the district attorney responds, now standing.

“Remand?” you repeat. “Your honor, my client does not present a flight risk.”

“He’ll be staying with you, I suppose?” he fires back and you can’t help but cut your eyes at him.

“Good one, Manny.”

“Your honor,” he continues. “The defendant fled the scene in Mexico…”

“Those were extenuating circumstances,” you interrupt. “He was drugged against his will.”

“And failed to inform the FBI of his international travel, effectively breaking protocol.”

“With the intent to return home and care for his mother, who struggles with schizophrenia and alzheimer’s and lives with him full time. He is her sole caretaker, in addition to his career as a highly decorated member of the BAU.”

“And as a member of the BAU, he has connections all over the world that could prove highly useful if he chose to flee.”

“Agent Reid is more than willing to surrend both his professional and personal passports if it pleases the court.”

“Again, he has the connections to both recieve a counterfeit passport and evade arrest.”

“Your honor, all Agent Reid wants to do is stay here and clear his good name.”

“He should’ve thought about his good name before sneaking across the border.”

You glare at Martinez and look back to the judge, “I can provide sincere and respected character witness to the court today. All highly decorated members of FBI, willing to speak on Agent Reid’s behalf.”

“Miss [y/l/n], I am not particularly inclined to hear character witnesses at the moment,” the judge tells you.

“Then we can abide by a curfew, court ordered restrictions…”

“Too little, too late for that, Miss [y/l/n],” she silences you. “If past behavior is the best indicator of future behavior, and I do believe that it is…then your client does present a flight risk…” and with one, dramatic pauses, she says, “Bail is denied. The defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

The gavel lands and that’s it.

Spencer is put in handcuffs, in front of his entire team, in front of his family. In front of you. And all he can do is look at you. Eyes wide and terrified, looking at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry, I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”

He believes you. He has to believe you.

Standing there in shame, the feeling in your gut quickly turns to anger and you march out of the courtroom, pass the team and into the hallway. You see the district attorney walking towards his office and chase him down.

“A flight risk?” you catch his attention and he turns around. “Really, Manny?”

He shrugs, “Judge Frost agreed.”

“Yeah, judges tend to do that when things are taken out of context.”

“Hey, the facts were clear as day. Don’t be mad at me because your boyfriend might go to prison, okay? That’s on him.” And with that, he walks away. You want to throw something at the back of his head.

You want to burn the whole building down.

Instead, you run. You run off to an empty corridor, where you are well aware no one will find you. You pace up and down the floor, your chest heaving, your hands on your hips.

“[y/n]?” Emily calls from behind you. When you cannot get out of your own head, she repeats, “[y/n]?”

“Why did you call me?” You shout as you turn to her. “Why did you bring me into this? Why? Why?” you sob and you put your face in your hands, sliding down the wall in a dramatic breakdown.

Emily immediately rushes to you, bending down to hold you in her arms. “You did everything that you could,” she tells you. “You did your best.”

“I’m always doing my best!” you whine. “I’m always, always doing my best for him and it’s not enough! It’s never enough!”

There’s too much for Emily to unpack there, so she shuts her mouth and she holds you.

The day that you graduated law school, Spencer stayed by your side the entire time. And that was good. That was good because you could be sure that he wasn’t shooting up and you could relax. He looked good that day. Not perfect. Not clean. But good. He dressed up, he could walk in a straight line and he was so, unbelievably proud of you.

He handed you flowers the moment the commencement was over. He took all the pictures so you could have the memories forever. He hung on your arm like a trophy boyfriend because, that day, he was a trophy boyfriend and he could not have been happier.

“Surprise!” was shouted at you as soon as you stepped into your apartment. Adorned with balloons and family and friends, you were overwhelmed and nearly dropped your degree. You turned to Spencer and he dropped his shoulders bashfully, too shy to outright accept all the credit. And still, you took him in a firey kiss, you gave him all the credit.

As you walked around, having something to eat, thanking everyone for coming, talking about your plans for the future, Spencer came up to you and said, “I’m going to grab the cake, okay, honey? I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“Oh, okay, baby, thank you,” you smiled and gave him a kiss.

He didn’t come back for an hour.

And when he did come back, he overcompensated by putting the cake down in front of you and going, “Sorry! Sorry about that. Traffic was crazy,” and placing a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek.

Right then, you knew.

He was bouncing off the walls, extroverted, enthusiastic, eating cake that other people had cut into and not able to get enough of it. Grabbing onto your waist and kissing your neck in front of a crowd, dozing off when he actually sat, flicking himself in the neck to keep himself awake.

And you knew.

By the end of the night, when everyone had cleared out and Spencer was missing, you stepped around the quiet apartment and found him passed out in your bed. You put two fingers on his neck, made sure he was alive, and you slept on the couch.

You woke up early even though he slept like a rock until closer to noon. You sat on the couch until he decided to get out of bed and come looking for you.

“Hey,” he smiled, his voice hoarse. “Hey, what are you doing out here?”

You could hardly stand to look at him. You hands were bound in front of your lips, your eyes focused on the coffee table. It wasn’t until that second that he looked down and noticed the collection on the table. Needles. A little vial.

“How…” you cleared your throat. “How long have you been hiding this in my apartment?”

“I…” he spit out. “I…that’s old. It’s old. I forgot it was even here.”

You choked out a gust of air and couldn’t help but laugh, “You are so full of shit.”

“[y/n]…”

“No!” you shouted, rising to your feet. “Tell me what’s so fucking good about this shit that you needed to shoot up during my graduation party?”

“I…I didn’t…I was just excited. I was excited for you.”

“No, you were fucking loaded.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Stop.”

“I wasn’t.”

“No, stop! Stop treating me like I’m fucking stupid! I mean, fuck, Spencer! After all the therapy and meetings and outpatient rehabs, you do this? Really?”

“I didn’t.”

“And what’s worse is that you lie. You lie about everything. You’re lying right and you don’t care!”

“[y/n]…”

“You don’t care. You don’t care. I’m the one who shot narcan up your fucking nose so you wouldn’t OD on my bathroom floor. I’m the one who couldn’t have one fucking night to myself and you, dont, care!”

You let out a quick huff and he simmered in the silence of your anger.

“I…I can’t do this anymore…” you said softly.

He stared at you, shaking in his own skin, “W-what? You can’t do what?”

You released a slow sigh, “I can’t…be with a drug addict.”

“I…am not…”

“You are. You are, Spencer, and you need help. You need more than I can give you.” And before he can retaliate, you set a box of his things on the table. Some books, some clothes with blood on the sleeves, some records.

He started to cry. You knew these were real tears because when he merely wanted to get his way, they would start flowing instantly. Here, they came on slow, rolling down his pale face. “[y/n]…”

“No.” You said sternly, avoiding eye contact. “You need to leave. Leave.”

“B-b-but I-I’m better,” he tried to touch you and you flinched. “I-I can get better. I can do that.”

“Not here. Not with me. Please leave.”

“B-but…” he cried. “But I don’t wanna leave. I wanna be with you. I need to be with you. Please. P-please, [y/n].”

You shook your head, quickly wiped away your tears. “I don’t want you here. Please leave.” You held the door open for him and put his box on the porch. “Please.”

“[y/n], please don’t do this,” he tried to shut the door but you held your own. “Please, please, I’ll go to a meeting right now. You can come with me. I’ll get better. I can get better.”

“Spencer…please. Go.”

“No.”

“Please,” you begged. “Leave.”

“No. No, I’m not leaving you.”

And so, because you had to, you absolutely had to, you pushed him out. He fought, never to hurt you, but he dug his feet in the ground and tried to push your hands away. “N-no, [y/n], please. Please. Please don’t do this.”

Spencer was never that strong before the dilaudid. But when he was on it, he was weak. He was slow and even with all his strength, he could not stop you from throwing him out and slamming the door in his face. You locked it quickly, pressed your palms to the wood to keep it closed up tight as he knocked lightly.

You could hear him sobbing, “[y/n]…please…[y/n]…” and his voice cracked. You heard him slide down the door and sniffling, “[y/n]…”

There was a moment where you thought to open the door. To take it all back. To change your mind. Tears were running into your mouth and you ground your teeth together to stifle your cries. Instead, you stood up straight, you took a deep breath. You went into your room, closed the door and turned the TV up loud.

Spencer still lives in his same apartment. So as you go up the stairs, hundreds of memories come flooding back to you at a hundred miles per minute. It makes you so dizzy that you nearly trip, fall down the stairs. Run.

But you make it to his door and knock, greeted by a younger woman who gives you a bright smile, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you wave to her. “Cassie?”

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m [y/n]. I’m-I’m a friend of Spencer’s. Is Diana here?”

“She is.”

“Is she up for a visitor?”

You let yourself in, stepping in to find that the apartment has not changed much. Same couch, same chairs, same coffee pot in the kitchen. Diana is sat near the window reading a book, picking at her nails anxiously. When she looks up and sees you, she stops and her entire face lights up like you’ve come back from the dead.

“[y/n], hi!” she greets you. She stands from her chair and rushes towards you with open arms. You let her hug you tight, her hand in your hair, your head on her shoulder and you want to cry. “Hi, honey, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m okay…” you shrug. “Can we talk?”

Her eyes go wide. Scared. “This is about Spencer. About that awful mess he’s in.”

“Yes,” you nod.

“Well, please, come, sit. Do you want some tea? Cassie makes a great cup.”

“Sure. Yes, please,” you smile as you sit across from her.

“Y’know, when I heard what happened to Spencer. I-I couldn’t believe it…my baby boy, in a jail cell,” she shakes her head. “But then he tells me that you were his lawyer and I could,” she exhales. “Breathe. You, such a smart and fierce young woman. There’s no one I’d trust more.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek and you shake your head, breaking eye contact with her.

“Oh. Oh, no, no, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry…” you whimper. You wipe your face and huff, “Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“For what? For what, honey?” she takes hold of your hands.

“I-I couldn’t…I didn’t…” you sob. “I…Spencer pleaded not guilty, but the judge ruled him a flight risk. S-so, he’s…in federal prison. Pending trial.”

You can see the shock spread across her face and it makes you sick to your fucking stomach. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried.”

“Hey, you don’t apologize,” she squeezes your hands. Tight, tight, tight, tight. “You don’t apologize, you hear me? I know you did everything in your power. And if you couldn’t do it, then no one else could.”

You choke out another sob and she rubs your arm, cooing “Oh…oh…” and when Cassie sets a mug in front of you, Diana orders, “Here. Here, [y/n], please, have some tea. Calm down, sweetie.”

While you take sip, hiccuping against the glass, she changes the subject entirely. The rest of the visit spirals into a nice chat, mainly about you. What you’re up to these days. And as you fill her in, her eyes light up in pride, in almost disbelief. The last thing she says to you is, “Oh, I do wish you and Spencer could’ve worked things out. You are just…so special, [y/n]. Such a special, gifted girl. You made him so happy.”

She hugs you before you leave and you stroll beside Cassie to the front door. “Um…” you whisper to Cassie. “Is she normally this lucid?”

She purses her lips, “There are good days. There are bad ones.”

You nod.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen her recognize anyone, though.”

For an extended amount of time after your first breakup, you thought Spencer was dead.

After you kicked him out of your apartment, there was radio silence. Scary radio silence. And you had visions in your head of him laid out with a needle in his arm and too much dilaudid in his veins and vomit in his mouth. Or, perhaps, he ran in front of a bullet in the field and no one thought anything of it. For months, you were so sure he was dead.

When you saw him on the news a year later, only then, you could breathe. You visibly and loudly sighed in relief just seeing his face, hearing his voice. More than grateful he was alive, you were grateful to see him healthy. Very clearly clean. Weight back in his face, light back in his eyes. You had almost forgotten what it looked like on him. It wasn’t until then that you knew you’d made the right decision.

You wouldn’t see him again for another two years. Save for a few local newpapers articles, the radio silence continued. You had moved to a larger apartment, close to the courthouse where you were still clawing your way to the top. Somehow, someway, Spencer found this new apartment. It was a conscious decision to do so.

He knocked on your door and you, not expecting company, catiously checked the peephole. You dropped from your tippy toes, sucked in a breath and opened the door. “Spencer? What…what are you doing here?”

“I’m…I’m sorry to drop by like this…” he stuttered, sucking back tears. “I am. I’m sorry. I…Emily…died.”

Your eyes went wide and you visibly stepped back. “What?”

“Y-yeah, she, um, she was murdered. Bled out in the ambulance and I…” he descended into a fit of cries and you just stood in the doorway, watching him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-I don’t mean to be a stalker. I don’t mean to barge in on you. I-I-I-I was just scared of what I might do if I was alone and n-no one else understands why I’m so scared to be alone and-and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

You stood there in shock for a long time. The only thing that cut the tension was a sound from the TV, a strange sound that caught Spencer off guard. He peeked inside your apartment, sniffling, “What are you doing in here?”

“Uh…um, I’m playing Wii Sports?” you told him, holding up the remote dangling from your wrist. “…I have two remotes if-if you wanna play. It always makes me feel better.”

He tilted his head at you, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Oh, c’mon!” you shouted in front of the TV, swinging your remote through the air. “Put your back into it!”

“I am!” Spencer yelled, taking another swing that just barely hit the digital tennis ball.

“No, you’re not!” you swung and scored a point, Spencer feeling especially defeated by the cheer of the crowd. “You’re losing, is what you’re doing.”

“I give up,” he takes off his remote. “This game is rigged.”

“Is it?” you smirk. “Or are you just a sore loser? Not used to it?”

“Uh, yeah. Duh.”

You laughed and it poured a blanket of warmth over him that he had not felt in a long time. “You hungry?” you asked him.

“Starving.”

So you ordered a pizza and you got so caught up in speaking with him that you barely heard the knock on the door. When you set a slice down in front of him, he instantly picked it up and shoves it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He noticed you watching him and chuckled, wiping his mouth, “What?”

“Nothing…”you smiled. “Nothing, it’s just you’re…eating so good, you…you look good.”

He smiled at you. Not a big smile, not a proud smile, but a soft smile. A thank-you-I-did-it-for-you smile. “Thank you. I feel good.”

“Good,” you nodded. “That’s good.”

And the two of you ate in silence with the TV on to keep the peace. By the end of the night, his head was resting in your lap and his knees were tucked against his chest. He rubbed his thumb on your knee lightly and said, “I can go. If you want me to, I can go.”

“Yeah…” you whispered, your fingertip tracing his ear, your hand running through his hair, “Yeah, it’s getting late.”

He breathed you in one last time and sat himself up. He looked at you and you looked at him and if he stared at you any longer, it would’ve torn him apart. Instead, he hopped up from the couch and escorted himself to the door, you following close behind him.

“Thank you,” he told you. “For letting me stay. For feeding me. For taking care of me.”

“For kicking your ass at Wii Sports?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you nodded.

“Okay,” he huffed. “So…”

“So…” you shrugged.

He reached out to give you a hug and before you knew what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him. That is, after all, exactly what he wanted you to do.

His arms locked around your waist and you moaned softly under your breath, sticking your tongue down his throat, drowning in the familiar taste of him. He pushed his body into yours, boldly nudging you towards the couch until you fell back and he could fall on top of you. Right where he was meant to be.

You’re uncomfortable in the prison. Milburn isn’t exactly known for it’s favorable accommodations and the last thing you want to do is appear prissy, but fuck, it’s gross. It’s crowded. It smells. You think: this must be killing Spencer.

He sits down across from you and he looks tired. Tired, but relieved to see you.

“Oof,” you exclaim. “You’re so lucky you look good in blue or else this would be really shitty for you.”

He snickers, shakes his head, “That was actually my exact thought.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “JJ says you’ve been by to see my mom?”

“I have. She’s doing okay, she seemed okay. We spoke for a long time. It was good to see her.”

“I bet she was excited to see you.”

“She was, it was sweet. I…I don’t wanna sound insensitive here, but, if she has an alzheimer’s diagnosis why does the memory of us breaking up just… linger?”

He wants to cackle but he stifles it, “Tell me about it. Every so often, I get an earful about how I should’ve done more to keep you around.”

“Oh. You…you didn’t tell her that I…”

“No,” he says quickly. “No, I didn’t.”

And just like that, a moment that was lighthearted and comfortable becomes unbearable. You clear your throat, “Well, I didn’t just come by to visit, I have news. It’s not great.”

“Okay, what is it?”

You sigh, “Your trial is postponed. I can’t say how long, but I will be the first to know and you’ll be the second.”

“Postponed?” he mimicked. “W-why? Why?”

You shrug, “They didn’t say. But it could be anything, I mean, higher profile cases, judge schedules, anything.”

He ducks his head down, breathing hard through his nose to prevent himself from crying.

“Hey…” you coo. “Hey, I’m going to figure this out. Don’t worry.”

“I know,” he nods. He looks up at you, “I know you’re trying. Thank you for trying.”

You nod, break a toothless smile, “Always.”

When Spencer wasn’t on drugs, you two managed to stay together for a whole four years. This was twice as long as you made it the first time around and not once did you worry that he had relapsed. You spent a lot of time worried that he might. You spent a lot of time keeping an extra close eye on him, watching for any of the signs, overly cautious. For a reason.

And Spencer was patient with this. He worked so hard to regain your trust because he knew how badly he had fucked up before. How different he’d become, how much he’d hurt you. He could not bear to ever put you through that again. And he never did. He was consistent, he was loving and he was sober.

On your third anniversary, he flew back into town late but he came straight to you. You had not officially moved in with him, but you had a drawer and a toothbrush and you could walk to work from his apartment. He woke you up from your peaceful slumber in his bed just to present you with your gift.

“C’mon, c’mon, I’ve been waiting so long to give it to you,” he cut the lamp on and you groaned, rolling onto your stomach. “Noooo, noooo, c’mon, my love. Look.”

You rolled back over and he was holding up a gold charm bracelet that immediately caught your eye. It woke you up entirely.

“I know you’re not a big jewelry girl,” he whispered, placing the bracelet on your wrist. “But this, uh, has a little charm of your birthstone and one with your birth flower. And, I don’t know, I thought it’d be nice to have on while you’re arguing in court, y’know? Wave it around a bit. Persuade the judge and jury.”

He fixed the clasp and you admired the gold against your skin, tracing it with your finger softly. You grinned, your eyes flickering up to him. “Wave it around…” you teased. “Like this?” and you motioned for him to come closer with your finger. The charms rang lightly and Spencer smirked at you.

“See, it’s just so compulsive, I can’t help but obey you,” he crawled on top of you, his voice mixing in with your laughter. “You’ll never lose a case again.”

And ironically, you went an absurd amount of time without losing a case after that. The bracelet was, in every sense of the word, your good luck charm. Your wrist came to feel naked without it and the ring of the metal gave you a special kind of confidence that couldn’t be replaced or replicated.

The day that Spencer got shot and nearly died, you were due to argue what would’ve been your tenth successful case in a row. You were on such a roll. A streak that no one around you had seen before and they were all eager to see how it progressed.

But as you approached the courtroom doors, your phone buzzed in your hand and you answered without much thought. You kept your brisk pace, speaking with a normalcy that JJ tried her best to match. Your heels were fast, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, until the information ran through your ears and into your brain and then there was click-clack, click-clack, click…and you stood in the middle of the hallway. Stuck.

Your bottom lip trembled, at the thought of Spencer in critical condition. At the thought of him dying. Dying, dead, without you. You looked back at the courtroom and zoned back into JJ’s voice. You took one step towards the door, stopped and turned around.

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.

Contrary to the belief of the BAU, Spencer is not your only client. You have to remind yourself of this as well. Despite a pile of work that you slowly chip away at, you find yourself running back to the details of Spencer’s file. Over and over, as if something new will stand out. It’s happened to you before. You think, it could happen again. It has to happen again. It doesn’t seem like it will.

“Hey, [y/n]?” you coworker calls, knocking on your office door.

“Hey!” you pip.

“Wanna grab lunch? My treat.”

“Lunch? It’s already lunch?” you check the clock and gasp, “Holy shit.”

She laughs, “You work too hard. What do ya’ say?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I, uh, thought you had to meet a client at Milburn this afternoon, though? The armed robbery guy.”

“Ah, no. Whole prison’s on lockdown. Something about a bad batch of heroin or meth or whatever they pass around in there, I don’t know. Attorneys are still allowed in but I’m not walking into that. I mean, can you imagine?”

It all pours out of her like a joke. Like a comedy of epic proportions that you are meant to laugh along with. But you can’t. You think about Spencer and you just can’t.

“[y/n]?” she calls, pulling you back into reality. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” you overcompensate. “Yes. Sorry. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

You grab your purse and swing it over your shoulder, following her out of your office and reminding yourself to breathe.

“You’re sure?” you questioned the doctor. “You’re positive?”

He released a hearty laugh and nodded, “Yes. He is fully recovered. No swelling, no tenderness, he’s cleared to work and resume any physical activity.”

“Any physical activity?” Spencer asked. You blushed and put your hand to your cheek.

“Yes, that’s right,” the doctor confirmed. “I must say, Spencer, this is quite impressive progress with such a severe injury.”

“I couldn’t have done it all without [y/n],” Spencer beamed, holding onto your hand. “She’s been amazing. She oversaw all my treatment and physical therapy. Slapped me aside my head when I was stubborn. It’s all thanks to her.”

You smiled, bashful and sweet, though you felt a weird, painful knot in your stomach. “Well, that’s quite a spectacular lady you’ve got there.”

“I think so, too,” Spencer grinned and kissed your cheek.

Immediately after Spencer was shot, followed by a long hospital stay, months of physical therapy and doctor’s visits, you lost your streak. You lost your glimmer. You lost that aura of shock and awe that you once so proudly carried. Though you kept it hidden from Spencer, you were one, giant ball of anxiety. All the time. It wrecked your brain, scrambled into a big pile of goo until you were having panic attacks in the courthouse bathroom.

Days later, you finally brought home a winning case. The adrenaline of a successful verdict rushed through your veins and you raced up the stairs to tell Spencer. You unlocked the door to his apartment and burst inside, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw him. He had cleaned, cooked and set up the dining room table with a meal for two.

“Hi, baby!” he exclaimed. “How was your closing statement?”

“Uhh, good. The judge ruled in our favor…” you spoke slowly, setting your things down.

“Really?” he smiled. “Of course! Of course they did. Baby, I’m so proud of you,” he held your face in his hands and gave you a kiss.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, well,” he lead you into the dining room. “I made us a roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. It should be good, I followed the recipe exactly. And, uh, some sparkling cider and I got you some lilies from the florist down the street and-and I even went to that store to get you a bath bomb even though all the smells give me a headache.” He was quite proud of himself.

“You went to Lush? No way.”

“Way! I thought we could take a bath together. Or you can take one by yourself, if you want. I got some candles, too.”

“Spencer, this is so sweet. What the fuck?” you wrapped your arms around him and the thought pinged in your head, “Ohhh. Oh, you wanna have sex with me.”

His face immediately turned bright red, “W-what? What? Sex? No. Ew…gross…”

You cackled and put your hands on his waist, “You got the go ahead from your doctor and it’s been driving you crazy. Admit it.”

“It has not been driving me crazy. I-I…have…been thinking about it quite a bit. But that’s not why I did this. I just wanted to thank you. Wanted to do something for you.”

“Mhm, keep talking,” you nuzzled your nose into his. “You’re almost there.”

He giggled and took hold of your hands, “C’mon, c’monnnn, I worked really hard on this dinner. Can you sit down and eat with me and then, maybe, after…”

You kissed the tip of his nose and took a seat at the table, “Definitely after,” you smirked at him.

He grinned and sat right next to you. And he watched you the entire time that you tried your food. It was delicious, you made sure to tell him that. You made sure to praise him, tell him that you loved him. He was already overrun with joy, but when you suggested a nice bath, he all but jumped out of his seat.

“The dishes!” you laughed.

He scurried back to the table, picked up your plates and dropped them in the sink. As he ran to the bathroom, he grabbed onto your wrist and dragged you along. He turned the water on, let it heat to just the right temperature and left it running. You undressed each other from head to toe and despite the sensuality of it all, you couldn’t stop giggling.

Sat in the tub, he cradled your back against his chest and he said, “Y’know…this bath bomb actually doesn’t freak me out as much as I thought it would.”

You laughed, “It smells really good, right?”

“Yeah! And the colors are cool.”

“I told you!”

Spencer got out of the bath first and he held out a towel for you to wrap yourself in. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you looked at yourselves in the mirror. He caressed your hair, whispering, “You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled, “Thank you. So are you.”

He kissed your shoulder, resting his chin in the crook of your neck, “I love you.”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “You’re alright, I guess.”

Your laughter overlapped with one another’s and you quickly corrected yourself, “I love you, honey,” with a kiss to his temple.

He turned his head and looked at you, his lips pressed against your ear, “Hey.”

You turned to him, “Hey.”

“We should get married.”

Your jaw dropped and you took a step back, “Are…are you just saying that because I’m naked and wet?”

He chuckled, “No,” he pulled you close, chest to chest, “No, no. I mean it. I mean, I don’t have a ring and I’m in no condition to get down on one knee but you deserve that, you deserve everything and I want to give that to you. I love you. So much. And I never, ever want to experience life without you again. I want you to be my wife, I want to be your husband. I want that. Don’t you want that?”

You let out a dry laugh, furrowing your eyebrows at him. You take his face in your hands, gripping tight on boths sides of his jaw and smush your lips into his. You undo the towel from around your chest and it falls to the floor, leaving every inch of your body open to Spencer’s touch.

“Mm…” he moans sharply when you break the kiss, giggling when you drag him to his bedroom by the hem of his towel.

The two of you landed on the bed with a thud, Spencer on top, tangling his body in yours, kissing your neck. Kissing your chest. Making his way to the apex of your thighs where he spread your legs and buried his face in between them.

Your breath caught in your throat but you released it all with a guttural moan, your arms limp around your head. The thing about Spencer, and that beautiful, talented mouth of his, is how gentle he was. His tongue was never rough, never hard flushed against you, but light and soft, hitting all the spots that made your body twitch. He could make you come so easily. And if you’d let him, he’d do it again and again and again.

But you took hold of his shoulders, you brought his face to yours and tangled your hands in his soaking wet hair and that is how you stayed the entire time that he fucked you. Close to him, bonded to him, staring into his eyes. You legs wrapped tight around his waist. Your body weakened underneath, became consumed by him and you swear, you have never come so hard in your life.

After his own orgasm, Spencer’s eyes focused in on you and you were crying. Not sobbing, just silent tears.

“Oh god, oh my god, [y/n]? What happened?” he panicked. “Are you okay? Did I-did I hurt you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, no. I…that was…it was just very good for me.”

“Oh…” he sighed. “Oh,” he gave you a kiss. “For me, too.”

He laid at your side and held you in his arms, rubbing your back, squeezing you tight.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, Spencer.”

You managed to fall asleep in his arms, but not for very long. All through the night, you shuddered awake like your skeleton was trying to crawl out of your skin. When your eyes popped open as the sun was starting to rise, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You emptied your drawer. You packed all your clothes. You put your toothbrush in a ziplock. And for the rest of the morning, you sat at the dining room table with a pen and paper. Every thought that rushed through your head sounded trite. Cliche. Dumb. So you kept it short and sweet and wrote:

I love you. I LOVE YOU. But I can’t. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.

Aside from the shitty note, it was the perfect goodbye.

Spencer doesn’t want to see you right now. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now but especially not you. When the guard notifies him of his lawyers arrival, he’s confused. A bit irritated. But he has no choice but to let them haul him off.

They let him into the meeting room, where at first, you are sitting but when you see him, you stand to your feet. Your eyes scan all over his beaten and bruised face and you order the guards, “Cuffs. Off. Please.” And they’re off Spencer’s wrists just like that.

The guards leave the room and you are still staring at him. Now you are touching his face. Now you are whimpering, “What…what happened?”

You can see him soften a little bit, only a little bit, and then he is shrugging your hand off of him. He’s never done that before and it kind of hurts.

“You shouldn’t be here, [y/n].”

“What happened? Who did this to you?”

“[y/n.]…” he’s stern, but he quickly changes his tone. “You need to go. Please. I don’t feel like talking right now.”

You huff, “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

He shakes his head, “I’m just not in the mood to talk. I don’t think anyone needs to be around me right now.”

“Well, too bad. I’m here, you look like someone took a walk on your face, and I want you to talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“What are you getting into in here? Huh?” you scold him, waving your hands around. “Didn’t everyone tell you to shut up and lay low? You didn’t listen, did you?”

Your charm bracelet catches his eye and he cannot stop tracking it, “…You don’t know anything anout anything.”

“I think-“

“No, you know what I think?” he snaps. “I think you ended our relationship in a fourteen word note and now you’re here for what? For what, [y/n]?”

“Okay, lower your voice.”

“Seriously? Your obligation is done. You fought the good fight. Let me rot. It what you would’ve done anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you. Do you know why I left you a note, Spencer? It’s because I really sucked at breaking up with you. You have one little meltdown and suddenly, it’s me. Suddenly, I’m the answer to all your problems. Well, I’m not. I never was. I’m just one of the many melodramatic problems that you have and I needed to be released before it just happened over and over and over again.”

“Melodrama- okay…” he turns around and bangs on the door, signaling the guards to get him the hell out of here.

“Spencer!”

“We’re done.”

“Will you just- talk to me,” you beg.

The door swings open and you instantly clamp up, attempting to appear calm and collected. You watch Spencer leave the room and you want to scream. You want to shout at him from the top of your lungs but you don’t. You think, if I can just get outside. If I can just cross the parking lot. If I just get to my car, I can scream.

You never make it.

By the time Diana is able to visit Spencer, by the time Spencer gets in contact with Emily, rambling and screaming into the phone like he’s just witnessed a murder, nearly a full night has passed. Emily meets Spencer in the moonlit prison and it takes her an entire minute to get him calm enough to talk, to explain thoroughly. The memories of Mexico that come flooding back, the woman who drugged him.

“Has anyone checked on my mom?” he shouts. “Can someone please check on my mom?”

“Spencer,” Emily calls to him. “We did.”

“And?”

“And, she’s fine. Apparently, Cassie was unable to come in and they sent another nurse in her place. But, um…”

Spencer leans forward in his seat, “What? What?”

“Cassie said this was delivered to your apartment,” she digs through her bag. “No name, no address. Just a knock at the door.”

And she holds up your gold charm bracelet, sealed in an evidence bag, “Do you recognize it?”

Author’s note:

Inspired by me finishing Better Call Saul and being torn apart by Jimmy and Kim. Also added Saul Goodman to my list of Old Men I’m Obsessed With 😭 Anyways stream the Breaking Bad universe on Netflix! Thanks 4 reading!! <3

[aubreyvibes]

Just a little something to remind Spencer Reid (and all of us) that we’re always enough, even when we’re feeling lost. 🌿

Title:the quiet moments

Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer always said he wasn’t clumsy — just unlucky.

You weren’t so sure.

Because somehow, after a day spent digging through case files and paperwork, he still managed to show up at your door with a papercut so nasty it made your stomach twist.

"It’s fine," he said immediately when you gasped, holding his hand awkwardly. "It’s just... a minor epidermal laceration."

You arched an eyebrow, tugging him gently toward the kitchen.

"Minor or not, you’re letting me clean it."

He didn’t argue.

Spencer never really argued when it came to you.

He sat quietly on a stool while you rummaged through your cabinets for the first-aid kit, his injured hand cradled awkwardly in his lap like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

The cut wasn’t deep — just messy, the skin torn from where the paper had sliced him.

Still, it was bleeding enough to make you frown.

"You need to be more careful," you said softly, dabbing antiseptic over the cut.

Spencer winced, but didn’t pull away.

"I was reading," he said, as if that explained everything.

And maybe it did.

Spencer Reid didn’t just read books — he devoured them. Got lost in them. Forgot the world around him.

"I’m glad you like books," you teased gently, "but maybe next time don’t get into a life-or-death situation with one."

He laughed, a quiet, breathy sound that made your heart ache a little.

His eyes, normally so sharp and quick, were tired today.

You wondered how many hours of sleep he’d had this week.

Probably not enough. Spencer rarely took time for himself.

You finished cleaning the cut and wrapped it carefully with a bandage, trying not to let him see how worried you were.

He had so many things to carry on his shoulders — cases, the weight of his own thoughts, and yet, sometimes, he never seemed to care about taking care of himself.

When you were done, you stepped back, looking at him for a moment.

His usual, almost playful grin was gone, replaced with something quieter, like he was a little lost in his own mind.

"Spencer," you said, sitting next to him on the stool. You didn’t touch him at first, just let the space between you fill with the soft hum of your presence. "You don’t have to be perfect, you know."

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a split second, there was something vulnerable in them, like he didn’t quite believe you.

"I try," he whispered. "But sometimes I feel like no matter how much I try, I can’t... be enough. For them, for you."

You reached out then, gently cupping his face in your hands, guiding his gaze back to yours.

"You are enough, Spencer," you said, your voice steady i and certain. "More than enough."

He swallowed hard, as though the words weighed more than he expected. Slowly, his hand reached up, covering yours, and for a moment, you thought you might feel the weight of everything he’d been carrying lift just a little.

Spencer didn’t say anything for a long time, but when he did, his voice was quieter, softer, more open than you’d ever heard it before.

"Thank you," he murmured. "For seeing me."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of his head gently, his curls tickling your lips.

"You don’t need to thank me for that," you whispered, brushing your thumb across his hand. "I see you, Spencer. Always."

[forhappysake]

Teach Me

A/N: This is my first smut and it is LONG. Sorry y'all, I love a plot. Also, not totally proofread, xoxo.

Warnings: SMUT, professor!reidxreader, implied age gap, mentions of dementia, loss of virginity, bl0wjob, protected sex, use of nicknames (good girl), sub!reader/dom!spencer if you squint

The fact that you’d managed to get into Dr. Reid’s criminology class was an absolute stroke of luck on your part. You’d stayed up until midnight, eagerly waiting for your round of registration to unlock, and you’d immediately submitted your requests and refreshed the page until you got confirmation. You were elated. You had read so much about the young doctor, only in his mid-30s, who had multiple doctorates and over a decade of FBI experience. You were fully aware that taking his class would elevate your resume, not to mention that he was quite easy on the eyes.

Of course, that last part was just the consensus around campus. He polled “hottest professor” on social media every year since he’d arrived. You stared at his professor profile on the university’s website. The picture was undoubtedly a couple of years old, with brown curls atop his head and a cleanly shaven face. However, you’d heard from lots of the older majors that he’d aged like fine wine. With that in mind, you shut your computer before crawling into bed for the night. This semester can not end fast enough, you thought. 

*Seven weeks later*

Returning from Christmas break was never easy, but knowing you were going into Dr. Reid’s class made things that much easier. It was your last class of the day, from 3:00 - 4:15, and you knew you’d soak up every minute of it. Though after surviving two other earlier classes and multiple rounds of icebreakers with your new classmates, you were starting to lose your initial excitement at what Dr. Reid’s course may hold.

You walked into the lecture hall, noting an empty seat about three rows from the front. Claiming the seat as your own, you pulled out your new notebook and a red pen, scribbling the date and course number at the top of your page. You checked your watch: 2:58. You couldn’t help but tap your foot impatiently as your fellow students filtered into the room.

After a few more moments passed, the side door in the lecture hall opened, and Dr. Reid walked out in front of the room. He didn’t look up at the students, whose murmuring had gone silent the moment he entered. Instead, he turned his back to the group as he wrote his name and the course number on the whiteboard. 

He turned back around, this time scanning the students in the hall before clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Reid. I’ll be your professor for this course.” He paced around for a moment before coming to a stop and leaning himself back onto the desk. He looked a bit different from his faculty picture. His brown hair had grown out, allowing you to see more of his curls. His once clean-shaven face had evolved into stubble, and the rings around his eyes looked a bit darker. However, you couldn’t argue, he had aged well. 

“First thing’s first, the university requires that I take roll call for the first three weeks of the course.” You waited for him to fumble around on the computer or take up a piece of paper with all of your names on it. Surprisingly, Dr. Reid began calling out names from memory without picking up a roster. “Riley Anderson?” 

“Here,” a light-haired boy in the back of the class said, waving his hand. 

The back and forth of Dr. Reid calling names and students replying went on for another minute before he came to your name, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

You raised your hand and offered a small smile, “Here.” He looked up at you and smiled back. As you looked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, making quick work of the rest of the roll call before starting the course. 

The first day’s lecture was relatively tame. Nothing too gruesome was discussed, and thankfully the young doctor didn’t make you play any more icebreaker games. Upon class dismissal, a large line of students eager to make nice with their new professor lined up at his desk. Though you had hoped to meet the doctor personally, you didn’t want to wait around after being on campus all day. You quickly gathered your books and shoved them in your backpack before walking up the stairs and leaving the lecture hall. 

As with all semesters, the work began to pile on quickly as you did your best to keep up. Most of your classes began to blend together. However, Dr. Reid’s class was always your first priority. There was something about him that made you feel the urge to make him proud of your work. Maybe it was the way he’d smile thoughtfully as you asked him questions during the lecture or the time he’d made extra office hours for you when you needed help with a paper. It could have even been the morning you’d bumped into him in the campus coffee shop and he’d paid for your drink. As you pondered this, laying in bed the night before your midterm, you couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He did these things for all his students, right? You did your best to quiet your thoughts before forcing yourself to sleep the night before your exam. 

The next morning, you walked through campus with a certain confidence in your step. Though you had never been a great test-taker, you were confident that you were going to do well on Dr. Reid’s midterm. He’d even been so kind as to offer you a study guide, which you had been working through over the last week. You were prepared, but as you approached the lecture hall, you could see that your classmates weren’t feeling so confident. 

A young boy sat by the door, frantically scanning his handwritten notes in a last-minute attempt to memorise information. Several others followed suit.

Dr. Reid came around the corner, exams in hand. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. “Are you ready for the exam?”

“Born ready, Doc,” you joked, following him into the lecture hall and settling into your seat. Dr. Reid passed out the exams. Just as you suspected, you finished without a hitch. You dropped the paper on his desk and he offered you a small smile as you turned and left the lecture hall. 

You made your way to the library to study for your fifth and final midterm. You chose your typical spot in the corner of the room, hidden behind a large bookshelf. As you settled into study, you put your headphones in. As you dove into your reading, you became oblivious to the world around you. An hour passed, and it was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you were pulled from your work. 

You turned to face whoever had tapped you, and you failed to hide your surprise when you were met with the dark eyes of Dr. Reid. “Oh, hey!” you said, trying to be casual as you paused your music and took your headphones off. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down at you from his standing position, offering an awkward shrug. “I’m not sure, really. I guess I just thought I might find you here.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Is something wrong? Did I mess up on the exam?” 

Dr. Reid shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Goodness, no. You did wonderful. The grade is already in, actually.” “Oh,” you mumbled, smiling a little at his compliment. “Well then, what’s up?”

He stumbled around for a second, working up the confidence to utter his next sentence. “I was wondering if you were free tonight.” 

Your eyebrows raised and you felt your jaw drop a little. Was this happening? “Uh… f-for what?” you asked, trying not to get your hopes up. 

He pulled his hands from his pockets, fiddling with his tie as he shook his head. “Ah, you know, this was silly of me. I should go,” he turned to turn from you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. 

“For what?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment. You locked eyes with him, trying to read his expression.

He stood up a little straighter, your obvious interest seemingly bolstering his confidence. “I’ve been working on an article for a journal publication here at the university. I was wondering if you’d be willing to look it over for me,” he said. There was silence for a moment before he added, “I will also be cooking a new pasta recipe I found, and I would like it if you would stay for dinner after that.”

You felt a small smile creeping on your face, but you tried to contain your excitement. However, you could tell from the blush growing on his cheeks that he noticed. “I would love to do that, Dr. Reid. If you could send the address to my personal email, I would be more than happy to be there in-” you looked down at your watch, “roughly an hour.” 

A smile spread over his face, “Great. I’ll do that right away.” He looked around the library for a moment before he seemed to realize where he was, snapping back to reality. “Right, well, I’d better go straighten up my place a bit. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” With that, Dr. Reid turned from you and headed for the library door. He glanced back at you once, the blush on his cheeks evident as he walked out onto the quad. 

—

After Dr. Reid’s departure from the library, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to the parking lot, making quick work of the drive back to your apartment. You jumped in the shower and rinsed the day off yourself before drying off and standing in front of your closet. 

You examined your clothing choices. This wasn’t a date, was it? Maybe you should go with business casual… or should you choose something a bit more scandalous? Scandalous seemed to be the winning choice. If anything, you could lie and tell him you were going out after leaving his place. He wouldn’t think anything of it, right?

You settled on a shorter black dress that had a low-cut top. It exposed the tops of your breasts in a way that wasn’t wildly distasteful but wasn’t too subtle, either. You decided to skip on the underwear for the evening, the idea of being exposed underneath your dress enough to excite you. You’d never been with a man before, and you figured tonight wouldn’t necessarily be any different. You might as well have some secret fun of your own. 

Checking your watch, you realized you were running short on time. You dashed back out the door to your car. Checking your phone, you saw he’d emailed you as he promised: 

From: Spencer Reid Here’s the address you asked for, along with my apartment number. I look forward to seeing you soon.  -S.R.

You couldn’t help but smile as you entered the address into your car’s GPS before taking off. The fifteen-minute drive felt like an hour as you tried not to let yourself get too nervous. You entered the lobby of his apartment building, catching the elevator to the fourth floor. 

“Apartment 424,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped off and walked down the aesthetically lit hallway. The carpeted floor was pristine, and the view from the window at the end of the hallway told you that living in this building was not cheap. You shook the thoughts from your head as you reached the last apartment in the hallway, closest to the window. This is it, you thought, don’t fuck it up. 

You knocked twice and stopped to listen for any motion on the inside. You swore you could hear the soft lull of classical music from behind the door, and you suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching. The dark wooden door swung open, unveiling the wild curls of Dr. Reid. “Y/N!” he said, a smile spread wide across his face, “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, come in.” He stepped back from the door, ushering you into the room. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You stepped inside, examining the room around you. It fit his personality wonderfully. The green paint on the walls was accented by large bookshelves and dark furniture. You smiled when you noticed the lack of a television and instead, a record player sat in front of the sofa. “You have a lovely apartment, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, in awe of the way his personality was infused into the design of the place. 

He furrowed his brow at you, tucking his large hands into his pants pockets once more. He must be nervous. “I appreciate that. But please, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer,” you said, testing how the name felt in your mouth. “I can do that.” He smiled at you before gesturing to the couch, offering you a place to sit. You followed his lead, sitting on the far end of the couch as he perched in the middle. You felt him watching you closely, so you turned to look at him. 

Spencer noticed that you’d caught him staring, so he cleared his throat to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. “Here’s that piece I’ve been working on, if you’d still like to look over it.” He leafed through some files on the table before pulling out a thick stack of papers, held together by a large paperclip. 

You took the article from him. “Twenty-seven pages front and back? That’s quite the article, Spencer,” you joked, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He blushed sheepishly. “You don’t have to read it all if you don’t want to. I just thought that-” 

You waved your hand, cutting him off. “Of course, I am going to read it all. I’ll get started right away if you want to go work on something else.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to start that recipe I mentioned if you’re still interested in dinner,” he rose from the couch, watching for a sign of your approval. 

You looked away from the papers to smile up at him, “Certainly, thank you.”

As he walked away, you continued scanning the papers he had given you. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to review it, you could find no issues. You let out an audible sigh, which Spencer heard from the kitchen. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes! I’m not sure why you wanted me to look over this. It’s flawless,” you said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“I would take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so let down,” he said jokingly, a nervous tinge in his voice. 

You shook your head, “I feel that I wasn’t much help.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been a great help on this project. In fact, the questions you asked about the behavior of female abusers in class were what got me thinking about this in the first place.”

A blush spread over your face, “Really?”

He smiled, trying not to make it too obvious that he noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Really. You’re easily my best student. Your drive is unmatched, and your work is some of the best undergraduate writing I have ever seen. You should consider graduate school if you aren’t already.”

I shrugged at his words. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. We’ll see where life takes me, I reckon.” Spencer nodded before padding back to the kitchen, checking whatever he had put together in the oven. Almost on cue, a kitchen timer dinged, letting him know creation was complete. 

He pulled an oven mitt onto his large hand and pulled the dish out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stovetop before he turned back to you. “If you’d like to come sit at the kitchen table, I’d be happy to serve you.” You did as he requested, picking one of the two seats set at the table. Two glasses of wine were readily poured and thick, black cloth napkins were placed at each chair. You spread the fabric over your lap, noticing the careful vines embroidered along the trim. 

“Are these hand-embroidered?” you asked. 

Spencer nodded, “My mother used to live with me. She enjoys doing that sort of thing. I came back one day and she’d done these floral patterns around the edges.” He held up his cloth, gently tracing his finger along the vines and flowers. 

Despite your evident interest in her handiwork, you couldn’t help but wonder about his mother. “Your mother used to live with you?” you asked. “Where is she now?”

Spencer sighed as he looked down, gently laying his cloth across his lap as you had done moments before. “She stays in a nursing facility where they can give her the attention and care she needs. Between working at the university and consulting on cases for the Bureau, I wasn’t doing enough.” As he looked up at you again, you could hear the implication of his final statement: I wasn’t enough. 

You reached for the hand he’d placed back on the table, gently covering it with your own. “I’m sure you did everything you could for her. I’m certain she knows how much you care for her.” 

He offered you a sad smile, turning his hand up under yours and gently wrapping his fingers around your hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” Spencer trailed off, seeming to zone out for a minute as his eyes glazed over. You gently pulled your hand away from him, bringing him back to reality. 

“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, rising from the table. “We can’t have dinner without the food, how silly of me.” Spencer gently picked up the dish from the counter, setting it on the table in front of you. You examined the dish of pasta. “May I?” Spencer asked, scooping up a healthy spoonful. 

“Sure, thank you,” you picked up your plate, offering it to him. He placed a large helping of food on your plate along with a piece of bread before passing it back to you. You waited for him to serve himself and get reseated before you took a bite. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. 

Spencer’s eyes shot up from his plate as he dropped his fork on his placemat. “What’s the matter?”

You shook your head, eyes wide in amazement. “This pasta is incredible. Where did you find this recipe?” 

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh of relief. “Oh, I got it from a coworker. He’s a true Italian – cooks this sort of thing all the time.” 

You lifted the glass of wine he’d set out for you earlier. “Cheers to this mysterious coworker and your ability to replicate authentic Italian cuisine.”

He mirrored your movements, and your glasses gently clinked together. You locked eyes with him as you both took sips of your drinks. Something about the moment was wildly intimate and laced with flirtation. 

You forced yourself to look away, examining the cloth on your lap. “So, uh,” you stuttered, “are you looking forward to the end of the semester?”

Spencer took a bite of his pasta, mulling this over for moment. “Well,” he started, “yes and no. How about you?” He looked you over. You wondered if he was trying to profile you based on his careful examination of your body language and facial expressions. 

You chose to shrug, “Yes and no.”

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. There are some classes I’ll miss. Yours, of course.” 

He smiled shyly, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I love your class, but it’s really more than that,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. 

He quietly rose from the table and approached your side, looking down at you carefully. “Tell me,” he whispered. He leaned down to you, putting a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. He placed his large hands on either side of your face, as one of his thumbs gently caressed your cheekbone. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he whispered. His dark eyes scanned your own. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong and we can forget this. We’ll never talk about this again.” 

You swallowed nervously. “You’re not reading this wrong,” you answered quietly. You brought one of your hands up to cover one resting on your face. 

You rose from your seat and he followed suit. He stood several inches taller than you, adding to the strange power dynamic between the two of you. 

He lowered his hands, running them over your shoulders and down your arms until he slipped his hands around your hips, holding you in place in front of him as he looked at you. You could see the way he held himself back from you. He was trying to decide just how far he should go. 

You sighed and reached for him. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered jokingly, hanging your arms loosely from his neck to pull him a bit closer to you. He complied, leaning over you silently as your words hung in the air between you. 

“This entire situation is delicate,” he said in a serious tone. “I just don’t want to overstep.” 

“Spencer,” you laughed. “I’m standing in your apartment, calling you by your first name. Your hands are wrapped around my hips. I’m hanging off your neck. Don’t you think we’ve already overstepped?” 

He considered this for a second, looking around the room. “I suppose. What are you thinking?” he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 

“I’m thinking,” you said, pressing your body against his, “that I would love to push some more boundaries with you.” 

As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself giving in to you. Spencer closed his eyes, letting the scent of your perfume flood his senses. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispered. 

“Tell me,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He leaned back, allowing you full access.

“Fuck-” he murmured, “I noticed you from the beginning. You…” His words trailed off into a groan as you gently sucked on his neck. He ran a hand down your body, pressing you against him with a large hand on the small of your back. “You’re always so attentive, so eager to learn.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing to trail your lips up and down his neck. “Is there anything else you can teach me?” you whispered dangerously close to his ear. 

He pulled away, placing a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you into the hallway of his apartment. “Where are we going?” you asked. 

“My bedroom,” he said. His hand tightened around your waist as he reached for the door. 

The two of you stumbled inside, unable to keep your hands off each other. You found yourself falling backwards on his bed as he leaned over you, catching your lips in a kiss once again. You ran your hands through his soft curls and thought of all the times you’d berated yourself for imagining this exact moment. This couldn’t be happening. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. You felt a tinge of anxiety. Was now the time to tell him you really had no idea what you’re doing? He ran his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and revealing your lack of underwear to him. “No underwear?” he asked, smile evident on his lips as he leaned over you, leaving your back pressing against his clothed chest. 

You blushed, trying not to let on that you’d secretly been praying for this to happen all evening. Of course, Spencer already knew that. You were putty in his hands. 

He lifted himself off of you, and you rolled over to face him as he stood over you. “Stand up,” he said. You did as you were told, rising in front of him. You stayed still as he circled you a moment, almost as if you were some kind of prey. Spencer found the zipper to your dress. He rested his hand on it for a moment, leaning forward to offer you a soft kiss on the cheek. You took it as his way of asking for your consent, so you nodded, to which he immediately began unzipping the back of your dress. 

The black material fell from your shoulders and soon laid limply at your feet. Spencer let out a quiet moan as he turned you around to face him. You were completely bare before him. “My god, Y/N,” he mumbled. 

His lips attacked yours as he pushed you back on to the bed, your dress forgotten on the floor as his hands explored your body. He placed both his hands around your breasts, squeezing them gently as he began kissing down your neck. Spencer’s descent down your body continued with the utmost purpose, as you saw him lowering himself off the bed and down on to his knees in front of you. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Spencer looked up from your body to meet your eyes. “I want to taste you,” he said, matter of factly. 

As hot as the statement was, you couldn’t overcome the insecurity and anxiety that had seeped into your mind. In one flash, the confession fell from your lips. “I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 

Spencer stopped immediately, completely removing his gaze from your naked figure to focus on your face. He rose from his knees and sat himself on the edge of his bed. “You’ve never had sex before?” Spencer asked gently, looking you in the eyes the entire time. 

You nodded, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I probably should have disclosed that sooner. I’m sorry, I know it’s a major turn off,” you started to sit up, reaching for your dress on the floor. As you did, Spencer grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him. 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. 

You furrowed your brow at him. “Really?” 

He cupped your face with his hands, gently tracing the edge of your jaw with his thumbs. “I know our situation isn’t the most conventional, but if you let me, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You bit your lip in anticipation. “Okay,” you nodded. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “I want you to lay back for me, and I’ll make you feel good.”

You couldn’t help but trust him as you laid back on to the bed. He dropped to his knees once more, running his hands over your thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to him. Spencer lunged forward, licking an experimental stripe up your slit to gauge your reaction. You’d never felt anything like it before, and you couldn’t help but moan as he continued his movements, focusing his attention on your clit. 

“Spencer,” you groaned. Your hand found its way to his mess of curls, tugging sharply. He moaned into your center, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. “I-I’m close,” you whined, continuing to hold the back of his head. 

You heard him speak from between your legs, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Spencer dove back into your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

A sudden intrusion caused your legs to jerk, and you realized he’d inserted a finger into you. The mixture of the wonderful pressure he was placing on your bundle of nerves and the new sensation of his finger thrusting inside you sent you over the edge. You came hard, loosing your grip on the back of his head as you did. 

Spencer remained on his knees, lapping up what he could of you release before he rose to meet you on the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he laid next to you. 

You hummed in satisfaction, forcing yourself to open your eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the sinful amount of clothes that were still on his body. You expressed this by tugging gently on his tie, “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” 

Spencer chuckled. “We can fix that,” he said, rising from the bed. He made quick work of his tie, and undid the buttons on his dress shirt as you watched in awe. As Spencer shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, you took in his physique. Though thin and tall, his muscles were pronounced. You noted a few scars scattered about his figure, and wondered if you could get him to tell the stories behind them. His voice brought you out of  your thoughts. “You’re staring,” he said as he slowly undid his belt. 

You shrugged from your position on the bed, “I like what I see.” 

He let out a quiet laugh as he discarded his belt on the floor next to the bed, the hard leather hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Spencer peeled his pants off his legs, neatly folding them and setting them on a dresser next to the door. You couldn’t help but notice the large tent in his boxers, and found yourself wondering what exactly he was hiding under there. 

Before you could stop yourself, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, indicating his confusion as you dropped to your knees in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said with a tinge of humor in his voice. 

“Returning the favor,” you said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze. 

A large hand came to rest gently on your head as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is about you.”

You shook your head, finally mustering up the courage to look up at him. “I want to. I want you to teach me,” you whispered. 

That statement was enough to bring an end to his objections. Spencer smiled down at you with a sigh, “Pretty girl. Go ahead.” You smiled happily at the compliment and the permission to continue. You placed a few simple kissed above the hem of his boxers before locking your fingers under the seam and pulling them down completely. Spencer assisted by stepping out of his boxers, and he stood completely bare in front of you. You stared at his figure once more, eyes wide at the sight of him. His length was intimidating, especially for someone as inexperienced as yourself. You were unsure of how to proceed. 

Spencer leant down quietly and took your hand from his thigh, moving it to wrap around the base of his cock. “Now, just move your hand back and forth until you find a rhythm,” he encouraged. Like a student eager to please, you followed his instructions. After a moment he spoke again, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” 

You weren’t sure if it was your need to praise him or the flash of unadulterated lust you felt at that moment, but you leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into your mouth. Spencer looked down at you through hooded eyes, the silent act urging you to continue. You opened your throat the best you could, sliding him further into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. You wrapped your hand around the rest of him and, in time with the bobs of your head, stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Y/N,” Spencer groaned from above, placing an encouraging hand on the back of your head. He held your hair tightly. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. You slowed your movements so that he could fuck your throat at his own pace. You could tell he was holding himself back for your sake, and your heart swelled at how gentle he was trying to be during such a filthy act. 

You closed your eyes, becoming accustomed to the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, timing your breaths to the thrust of his hips. Suddenly, you felt the hold on the back of your head let up as Spencer pulled completely out of your mouth. “I’d love to keep doing that,” he said, out of breath, “but there are other places I’d like to finish tonight.” 

You blushed at the implication of his words. He reached a hand out to you, helping you stand up from the ground and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Spencer’s tongue entered your mouth as he moaned into the kiss, hands exploring your figure as he pushed you back towards the bed. You let yourself fall, the soft mattress greeting you as Spencer continued kissing you. 

He reached a hand down between the two of you, taking a hold of one of your thighs and spreading your legs open for him. Spencer pulled away from the kiss, meeting your eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I want to do this with you, Spencer.”

“You have to be vocal,” he said, continuing to look down at you. “I want you to tell me what you feel and what you need.”  You agreed.  

He kissed you gently once more before guiding his hand in between your legs, pushing a single finger into your opening. Spencer thrusted the digit in and out of you slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asked quietly. 

You nodded, “Yes.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, the next intrusion stretching you more than the last. He worked his index and middle fingers in and out of your opening as you moaned under him. 

After another minute, he pulled away from you. “You’re doing so good,” Spencer encouraged. He gave himself a couple quick strokes as he reached over to his side table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. He slid the condom over himself and positioned both your legs on either side of his body, lining himself up with your entrance. “Remember, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. Okay?” 

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh with one hand as he gently rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. You whimpered as Spencer pressed his tip into your entrance, body jerking inadvertantly as he continued to enter you. He peppered your collar with kisses as he continued. There was a small tinge of pain which brought tears to the corner of your eyes, but the pleasure was overriding the minor discomfort you felt. After fully entering you, he paused, allowing you to adjust.  

“How does it feel?” he asked. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open at his voice. 

“Spencer-” you stuttered, “m-move. Please.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself back and entering you slowly once again. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned above you. You couldn’t respond, too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you to begin to form a reply. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he whispered, peppering your cheeks with kisses, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You moaned at his praise, and you felt yourself tightening around his cock. “You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” Spencer asked, a mischievous smirk rising to his lips. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. You’re taking me so well,” he punctuated the final two words with sharp thrusts of his hips.

Between the words coming out of his mouth and the consistent movement of his hips, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his chest in an attempt to let him know. “Words, baby,” he encouraged. 

“I-” you groaned, “I’m gonna cum.” 

Spencer nodded, lifting himself up on his right arm to create some distance between you. “Hold on for me, one second.” He snaked a single hand down your torso, reaching your clit. He began drawing tight circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as you tightened around him. Spencer leaned down to you and pressed his body against yours, “Let go, I’ve got you.”

With his permission, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back arched off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, Spencer’s name falling off your lips. Driven by the feeling of you constricting around his cock, Spencer drove one final thrust into you, pushing himself in to the hilt. 

You felt an unfamiliar sensation as he finished into the condom inside of you, lips parted in a silent groan as he held himself above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered one more time as he collapsed on top of you. You both laid there for a second in a futile attempt to catch your breath. He leaned up, placing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the sensation. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 

You heard him exit his bedroom, and the sound of water running drew your attention to the bathroom. A moment later, Spencer reentered the bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up.” It was then you became aware of the amount of sweat coating your body, as well as the wetness coating your inner thighs. You accepted his outstretched hand as he lead you to his bathroom, allowing you to sink into the bathtub before he followed suit. He climbed in behind you, allowing you to lean back against him. “How do you feel?” he asked. 

You turned your head to look at him, “I feel great.” You sat in silence for a second, a smile spreading across your face. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head, covering your face before letting out a small giggle. 

Spencer’s smile mirrored your own. “C’mon now, what is it?”  

“I guess you did have a lot to teach me, Dr. Reid.” You turned to look at him, eyes meeting for the first time since entering the bathtub. 

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Believe me, there’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me on a date, Doc?” 

He sighed, leaning back against the bathtub. “Sure am.”

“Maybe next time, we’ll actually make it through dinner and get to dessert,” you said with a laugh. 

“I don’t know,” he said, leaning around to look at you. He lowered his voice, “Now that I know what you taste like, you’re my favorite dessert.”

[horrorofmyown]

Is there anyone taking Spencer Reidxreader fluff, smut, angst I don’t even care I have all the ideas I just need someone to write it

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

heartless - a criminal minds episode\\part 1

part 2, part 3, masterlist

- english is not my first language pleas exuse any spelling or grammer mistakes.

- this case is made up

- it happens around the.. 6th season, i think? so the team is Hotch, dave, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and reid

- it will end up being Reidxreader kinda

The doorbell rang. Layla fixed her robe and went to the door. Her eyes were red and puffy, as she was crying for a while now. A few days ago, the body of her fiance, James, was found. They covered most of him, she only saw his face to confirm it is him. She opened the door and looked to the right, and then to the left, but no one was there. Finally, she looked down and there she found a package. She picked it up and laid it on the desk next to her phone. The senders address on the package was one she didn't recognize, and her stomach ached in anxiety and fear. What if she's next?

She grabbed her coat from the hanger near the entrance, looking for a card In every single pocket, and when she finally found it she dialed the number on it with shaking hands. She paced in her living room as she was waiting for officer Williams. He told her to call if anything comes to mind, someone who'd seek vengeance on James, or if anything suspicious would happen.

A knock on the door. “Miss Garrison, it is Officer Williams” a vaguely familiar voice called from the other side of the door, and so she opened it. She shaked the officer's hand and allowed him to step inside. Layla was stressed before, but something about the officers demeanor made her even more anxious to open the package. “Do you want any… coffee, tea, or… just water, I have some cookies as well” Layla started rumbling, trying to be a good host as she was taught to be, even tho she is hosting under horrific terms. “Maybe some tea, yeah, I'll open the package while you do that” The officer said, sad smile on his face.

He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and put them on as Layle went to the kitchen. It felt so lonely in the apartment since James’s death, and she was somewhat happy to have company. She filled the kettle up with water to boil. Her eyes traveled between closets, trying to remember which one was the one with the tea cups, and where the hell did she put the tea itself. It was all a blur, James was the organized one. Eventually she found what she looked for and placed two mugs on the counter. She had two types of tea. “officer Williams, do you prefer green tea or berrys one?” she called out, and when the answer was bearly heard, she went to the living room.

“I'm so sorry, I can't hear-” she started, but her eyes stuck on the officers horrified face. “what is it?” she asked, “officer, what-” she said, coming closer. “stay back” he ordered, “I don't want you to see this. I called forensics, this is evidence”. “Officer, just tell me what this is” Layla said, panic setting in her voice. “Miss Garrison, when we found James's body… his heart was missing. I belive this is… it” the officer said..

….

“Reid, JJ, common, new case. hotch want us all in the conference room” (y\n) calls as they pass by their desks. The rest of the unit is already there when they arrive. “James Dekota, he was engaged to Layla Garrison until he found his unfortunate death. His heart was taken, and a few days later, shipped to Layla’s door” JJ explains as the relevant photos switch behind her. “Same thing happened with Fiona Nordwick who was engaged to Daniel Clark, and Sean williams who was engaged to Winona Rock” JJ continues. “Okay, so the unsub is targeting a half of an engaged couple, what makes him choose the one over the other?” Emily says, scrunching her eyebrows. “We find that out, and we have our unsub” Dave says. "wheels up in 30" Hotch says, nodding at the team.

…

"okay, so, taking the heart is… symbolic, but of what?" Prentiss wonderes out loud. "well, Joe smith took his victims hearts and kept them as trophies - but that's not the case here. this unsub is not keeping the hearts" JJ says, "and he is crossing gender and race lines - he kiiled males and females, and Sean williams was black". "his motive must be something about the victims personality than, something about their behavior made him attcack them" Dave says. "well, both the male victims worked in the insurance field" (y\n) says, "williams was an administrator for Nationwide and Dekota was a technichal analist for Omega, maybe this is what connects the victims". (y\n) knew it was along shot, considering Fiona Nordwick wasn't connected to the insurence field, she was a legal secretary. "(y\n) could have a point - we should ask Garcia to check, maybe Fiona Nordwick was a part of a case connected to the insurance field" Hotch says, pulling out his phone to text everyones favorite technical analyst. Reid was awfully quiet, thoughts running throgh his mind.

"whats on your mind, pretty boy?" Morgan asks. "Well, i just keep thinking…what if we are overthinking this, you know? trying to put a complicated meaning to this when it could just be literal, if the unsub attacks people for being engaged… what if taking the hearts is symbolic? hinting they have no heart?" he says, furring his eyebrows as he puts his thoughts into words. "this could be it" Prentiss says. "good thinking Dr. Reid" Hotch says. "we should try and check if any of the victims were being unfaithful" JJ says.

the tablet on the plane was ringing, and soon enough Garcia showed up on the screen. "well, my preeties, it appears that Fiona Nordwick was handeling a case regarding an insurence company not paying up, but i hightly doubt this is the connection, since it was a long time ago and she was in the begining of her carrer, even i had to dig deep to find this".

"well, if that not the connection, what is?" (y\n) said, slightly dissapointed her idea was proven wrong. they were new to the team and they wanted to prove themselves. They knew they'll get the chance, but just wondered when. "the unsub must find his victims somehow, maybe a wedding venue they all checked?" Morgan says, "baby girl, think you can find that out for me?". "oh you bet your fine ass that i can. talk to you later, my pretty crime fighters" Garcia says, and then hungs up.

[04oyaoyaoya01]

I need something to read…

🎀Like something so smut heavy that I’m like screaming and giggling in the corner of my room!🎀

I’m not too too picky with parings but what can I say I am a criminal minds girlie so anything hotchxreader or Reidxreader or even hotchxreaderxreid if I’m lucky pls I need recs

[missmitchieg]

When you search "red haired penelope garcia" and all you find is reidxreader and hotchxreader content

[neve-gallus-girl-detective]

would you ever write an xreader fic and what character would you be most likely to do it for

yes, and probably JJ. I've actually already started one, but I keep abandoning it because it feels too self-indulgent. I have a few xreader prompts in my askbox because I keep asking for them and then not touching them.

I'm also considering like one single reidxreader fic bcs I want him carnally, but only I know how to do it correctly /hj

I also have an emilyxreader idea broiling...

Send me an ask that says “Would you ever write…” and continue the sentence.

[lyrelyretheresmeninthathorse]

A Secondary Characteristic

Summary: After the team chat about attraction, reader is determined to test one of Spencer’s theories.

A/n: Thank you for the request! My uni exams are over for this year so hopefully I’ll get back into a regular routine with posting! Please let me know what you think 🖤❤️

Masterlist I Requests

Sipping your coffee you immediately held back a grimace at the sweetness. Garcia had kindly brewed it for you and, from the taste, had also dumped several packets of sweetener in the drink before handing the mug to you with a grin. Casually, you placed the mug back on the tabletop, slyly pushed it several inches from you, and folded your hands in your lap as you nodded along to Emily’s story.

“I just don’t get it!” She lamented finally, a sigh escaping her, “are guys just habitually dropped on the head as kids?”

Garcia giggled raucously, whilst your amused eyes flickered to the figures appearing in the doorway. Cocking an eyebrow at Emily you offered, “why don’t you ask them?”

“Ask us what?” Morgan questioned, almost nervously, as he settled heavily into his chair.

Spencer sat more lightly beside you, as was usual, and shot you a smile. It was that shy smile of his where his eyes struggled to meet yours. It was so very familiar to you, this nervous little uptick of his lips, as it was usually the first smile he offered you each morning. Leaning slightly over the table, you pushed the plastic tray of day old biscuits towards him. He took one of the chocolate covered ones and murmured a thanks to you before his attention was taken by Emily’s response.

“Do guys just have this… innate inability to think straight when breasts appear?”

Morgan laughed and cast a questioning gaze over the group. “And where has this come from?”

JJ, through a mouthful of vanilla wafer, answered with a chortle. “Emily had a date last night.”

“A bad date,” you specified quickly, sharing a humoured look with Spencer.

“No, not a bad date,” Emily corrected with faux sternness, “a disaster. We had this beautiful waitress and he spent the whole night ogling her chest whenever she came over.” She paused briefly to take a sip of her coffee. “I could barely even order my starter because he interrupted to ask for her number.”

Morgan guffawed at that particular revelation, sending Garcia tail spinning into hysterics alongside him. Emily was also laughing despite herself, her attempt at a semi-serious question coming out stuttered and uneven.“So, come on,” she managed before another chuckle bubbled past her lips, “tell me. What, do boobs just turn off all your brain cells?”

Morgan gave a half-hearted shrug. “What do you want me to say?” Defensively, he held out his palms. “I’m a guy.” Was all he gave, as though it provided answer enough and, unfortunately, it seemed to. Feeling the annoyance of all the women at the table flaring , he looked to the only other man for support. “Back me up here, Reid.”

In a show of his intelligence, he did not immediately back up his friend’s clearly controversial opinion. Instead, Spencer gave a more measured and academic response. “You know, there’s actually very little logical reason to find breasts sexually arousing.” Immediately, you raised your eyebrows at that; you were almost certain that you had caught his eyes wandering over your figure at least once or twice.

Morgan voiced your disbelief. “Okay, okay, no logical reason sure but c’mon, attraction is never logical.”

Spencer didn’t seem to understand Morgan’s request for a departure from logic and barrelled on oblivious. “I’m serious! They’re not even primary sex organs, they’re classified as secondary characteristics of-“

“Alright, alright,” Morgan stalled him with disappointment, “I get it, thanks for backing me up, man.”

JJ patted Spencer on the back and gave an encouraging, “well, I think that was a great response, Spence.”

All through the ensuing conversation you were watching Spencer with a crinkled brow that slowly smoothed out as a devious plot formed in your mind. Drumming your fingers upon the table you fidgeted in your seat in a poor attempt at stemming your rapidly building excitement.

-

Four hours later and you were walking to the group’s favourite bar for the usually scheduled Friday night drinks. You had taken a break from tradition and gone home after work to change. The others had wasted no time in questioning your motivations but you reassured them that you would meet them there.

You walked into the bar, coat wrapped tightly around your torso, and you pushed your way through the inebriated crowd. A hand waved at you through the crowd and, quickly recognising that the hand belonged to JJ, you drifted over to the table. “You made it!” She welcomed you with a hug.

Spencer quietly gained your attention. “I-uh- I saved a seat for you.”

You heard Morgan snickering somewhere to your left, but you ignored him and sent a warm smile to Spencer. “Thanks.”

Taking a deep breath, you unwrapped your coat from your torso and casually slung it over the seat that Spencer had so thoughtfully saved for you. You were a confident individual by nature, but even you felt some stirrings of nerves at how much cleavage you were currently displaying.

A low whistle sounded from Emily before, in a high tone, she excitedly told you; “Damn! Look at you, you got a hot date tonight or what?”

You shrugged as you sat down, answering with a forced casualness as you looked down at your chest. “What? They’re just secondary characteristics, right Spencer?” You looked up at him with the wide doe eyes of the entirely innocent.

He swallowed thickly, eyes darting all over the place in a clear sign that he didn’t quite know where to look. “Uh… y-yeah,” he eventually managed.

You certainly weren’t satisfied with that, as flustered as he may be.

Fiddling with the left strap of your top, you pulled Spencer’s attention to the thin strip of fabric. “Spencer, what fabric do you think this is made from?” He gave the fabric a very cursory glance before quickly looking up to the ceiling of all places. “Cmon Spencer, please take a look!” In a nervous gesture he swept his hand through his hair, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he nodded resolutely to himself and looked towards the fabric. “It’s been bugging me since I bought this top,” you explained lowly, “the label says cotton blend but blended with what?”

“I-“ he started hoarsely before clearing his throat and trying again. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” you pouted before leaning considerably closer to him with your arms pressing your breasts together. “Feel it, I think it feels like nylon but who knows?”

“Uh-“ he tried to protest but you pouted again and he gave in immediately. Fingers reaching out to feel the fabric strap his knuckles brushed against your bare skin and you gave a small hum of satisfaction that only he could hear. His fingers stilled and his, now darkened, eyes met yours before he struggled out; “it-it’s nylon.” Immediately after these words had left his lips he staggered up from his chair and rather loudly announced “I-uh-I’m gonna get some air.”

As he rushed away you felt almost guilty but satisfaction saved you from any significant ill-feeling. JJ snickered beside you, stirring her fruity cocktail as she shook her head with a wry smirk. “You’re evil, you know that?.”

Huffing, you smirked and made an attempt at defending yourself. “Oh cmon, I was just… proving a point.”

Morgan laughed and looked to Spencer’s now vacated seat with raised brows, “what, by giving boy wonder a stroke?”

Grimacing, you looked out to where Spencer had disappeared to. Clicking your tongue, feeling remorse tinging your victory, you stood up. “I better go… apologise.”

You made it barely two steps before Emily called out to you, “take your coat maybe?”

Nodding, you backtracked and grabbed the garment from the chair. “Good plan.”

[alltooreid]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

In order to keep Y/N safe from danger, Spencer vows to keep their relationship a complete secret from everyone they know. However, as their romance gets more serious, Y/N and Reid begin to realize that no matter how in love they are, they may have been doomed from the start.

A/N: Back at it with a hopefully very angsty fic! This is of course inspired by the Taylor Swift song, but you don’t need to be familiar with the song to read and enjoy! Also I made a playlist for this one shot, which you can find here (its best if you listen to it in order and of course you don’t have to listen as you read, but if you enjoy that kind of thing, I thought it would be fun). Additionally, in order for the timeline of this fic to make the most sense, I’m choosing to ignore the Lauren Reynolds subplot, because trying to incorporate it and explain it would be distracting and unnecessary in my opinion. Thanks for reading!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Type: Angst

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: Some cursing, general fighting angst, discussion of pregnancy, brief mention of abortion (follow up is left intentionally ambiguous, based on your own desires and beliefs you are allowed to decide where that aspect goes (pro choice tings))

“I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?”

Spencer Reid hated funerals. 

Somehow he felt he was always invited to one, and no matter how hard it was for him to be there, he always made every effort to go. So when Hotch had to plan Haley’s funeral, Spencer knew he had to go, no matter how much he would hate it.

He looked down to the grass as his supervisor cried over his now dead wife, the most emotion he had seen from him ever. He refused to look up and watch, although there were at least a hundred people there to mourn Haley, this moment felt innately private to Hotch. Spencer didn’t think it was his place for his eyes to intrude. 

So he stared at the lawn and got lost in his own mind.

Right then and there he realized he never wanted to go through what Hotch had to go through. No matter how many philosophers described love in the most beautiful, enchanting way, Spencer didn’t want it anymore. 

He didn’t want to go through a heartbreak, because how worth it could it be?

Of course, all information he had in his repertoire pointed to the claim that it was worth it. Yet he couldn’t pay attention to Oscar Wilde, trying to tell him that “hearts are made to be broken,” or E. A. Bucchianeri screaming that “grief is the price we pay for love.”

All he could see at that moment was the most stone-faced man he had ever known, breaking down in front of everyone he knew over the woman he loved. 

At that moment Spencer Reid vowed to completely give up on love. He would become the best profiler to ever live. People would compare him to Jason Gideon, but Spencer Reid would win every time. Spencer wouldn’t let himself be like Gideon and get so hung up over a person that he couldn’t ever work anymore.

So when Spencer left the funeral and went to bed that night, he was confident that he would sleep alone like that forever. It was comfortable like that and he was happy. Who needs to be in love?

Not Spencer Reid that’s for sure.

Well, until three months later, when Spencer Reid met Y/N Y/L/N. 

She was beautiful, and Spencer knew he wanted to get to know her the first time he laid eyes on her. 

But he was doing such a good job recently…. Even Hotch was impressed with his work ethic. The only one who had talked to him about his lack of emotion was Penelope, she seemed concerned when Spencer told her he didn’t want to meet let alone go on a date with the cute nerdy barista from her go to coffee shop. Spencer refused to reason with her, he was too focused on proving himself to Hotch and the rest of the team. 

Even though in the back of his mind, Spencer knew he had already proven himself to the rest of the team, now he just needed to be good enough for himself.

A truly impossible task.

But he was still trying to do it, so he didn’t talk to the barista at the new coffee shop he was trying.  

He wasn’t expecting her to try and talk to him. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to give up his own reasoning.  

“That’s a lot of sugar, sugar. Are you as sweet as your coffee?” she said, giggling as she did it. She knew the line was cheesy and stupid but she had been eyeing Spencer Reid since he came in and knew she needed to get his attention. Luckily, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Their first date was right then and there. They got distracted and talked till closing, Y/N’s coworkers noticing she was actually putting herself out there and deciding to pick up her slack so she could continue. 

“So are you going to call me Dr. Reid or were you just leading me on for 3 hours?”

“Of course I’ll call you, how else am I going to get you to watch Doctor Who?”

Y/N smiled, “Well I know this is kind of forward, but I have this art exhibit tomorrow, I would love to see you there. But don’t over think that! I’ve invited pretty much everyone I know. I have a bet to win amongst the other art students, whoever has the most people come to see them wins one of those giant Costco sheet cakes. I need that sheet cake Spencer.”

Spencer smiled, “Well, I am from Vegas . . . Maybe I could help push the odds in your favor.”

“Well I can’t wait to see you there. Tomorrow, 6 pm, I’ll text you the details.”

It was only when he laid down to sleep that Spencer remembered his philosophy on love, but strangely, he did not care. 

He may have been trying to freeze his heart, but Y/N was coming in with a blowtorch.

And he didn’t mind. In fact he unlocked the door to let her in.

So when he arrived at work the next morning, he fully intended on going to her art show. He thought about what flowers to bring her. . . was this a date? Was last night a date? Were roses too strong a message? He couldn’t do anything red, it was too forward. Pink? What if she saw it as stereotypical because she’s a woman, maybe she hates pink?! Yellow Tulips were safe, but if he got her yellow tulips then she would think they were just friends and Spencer didn’t want to be just friends.

His internal debate was interrupted by none other than Penelope Garcia, but not to interrupt their paperwork day with a case, but to make an announcement to the bullpen.

“Hello my loves! I have an interesting idea for some team bonding tonight, my favorite barista and dear friend has invited me to her school art show. Of course she needs the most support humanly possible, so you all need to come with me and look at cool art!”

“Who’s this friend of yours Penelope?” JJ asked.

“Oh Jayge you’ve met Y/N! She’s lovely and I’m sure an incredible artist. You guys will all love her!”

Suddenly Spencer remembered Hotch and his broken down faces at Haley’s funeral. He remembered his philosophy on love and his fear of heartbreak.

But he also remembered how alive he felt with Y/N. How the way she laughed like a little kid and how that made him feel giddy. He remembered how she was always so interested in what he had to say. He remembered that he really liked her.

And at that moment, Spencer realized that he did not have to choose between being in love and keeping his heart safe from the devastating heartbreak of seeing his true love die. He realized that the reaper could only find Haley because Hotch let people know they were together Because everyone knew of Hotch’s wife, she was in constant danger.

Maybe if he kept Y/N secret he could still be with her.

“Spencer! Did you hear me?”

“No, um sorry Garcia what did you say?”

“I asked if you were going to come to Y/N’s art show, you know you too would make such a cute couple! You should totally come.”

“I actually can’t, I’m not feeling well.”

She sighed, “That’s what you said last time I tried to get you two together 187 . . . Do you want to talk about anything Spencer? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine, I just have a headache. I don’t want to go out tonight.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder for a second, before following Morgan to the kitchen. Spencer knew she was going to say something to him, but he didn’t care. He had found the perfect solution to his conundrum.

And he knew exactly what flowers to send to Y/N.

Y/N texted him thirteen times, and waited an extra hour after the open house closed in case he showed. So although she went home empty handed, one person away from enough cake to feed fifty, she received a call from Spencer Reid.

“Hey, where were you tonight? I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, something came up, but I have something for you! Are you still there?”

“Oh no, I just got to my apartment. I can send you the address.”

“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

And five minutes later Spencer was at Y/N’s door, with Chinese take out and white peonies, a flower known for its apologetic symbolism.

Y/N blushed, “You didn’t have to bring me flowers Spencer . . .”

“Well I wanted to bring some to your show, but I figured this could be the next best thing . . . And maybe we could eat some of your Costco sheet cake afterwards. Sounds like a balanced meal to me.”

“Although I love that idea, I unfortunately came home tonight sheet cake-less.”

Reid frowned, “How close were you? Would I have made any difference?”

“Oh no!” Y/N lied, “I was way off, don’t even worry about it.” She smiled, “I’m just excited that you're here right now.”

Spencer blushed and looked down at his feet, “Well I’m excited to be here.”

Four months after that night, Y/N asked Spencer a seemingly stupid question while they were eating take out at her apartment. “Spencer, I love takeout and all but we haven’t gone out in public together since the first time we met. . . Call me stupid but I’m starting to wonder if you don’t want to be seen with me.”

Spencer sighed, “Y/N, it’s not that it’s just . . . complicated.”

“I just don’t get it. Am I the second woman or something?”

“No! Absolutely not! You are my one and only flower,” he said, smiling and then leaning in to kiss her nose. She giggled in response, but quickly remembered the serious nature of their conversation. “Y/N, you know what I do for a living.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

“Not too long ago, my boss was targeted by a serial killer who made it his mission to make his life miserable. In doing so he killed his wife. I just . . .  I don’t want that to happen to you Y/N. I think I’m falling in love with you, and I can’t put you through that.”

“Spencer . . . I love you too.”

So no matter how badly Y/N wanted to tell her family, or update her Facebook status, she respected Spencer, and although she didn’t completely understand his concerns, she wanted him to be happy.

So she spent ten more months like that, catering to Spencer Reid’s peace of mind. Pretending to smile as he told her stories of all the funny things his team members did, all about their partners, and their love lives.

A couple times now, Y/N asked Spencer if she could meet them, but Spencer always shot it down. When he first mentioned the idea of keeping their relationship a secret, Y/N had secretly hoped it would be one of those things that was forgotten about within a week or two. But no. It had been many, many weeks, and Spencer still didn’t want to be seen in public with her.

And by now that was all she wanted. To go on a real date, to introduce him to her friends, to actually be able to tell her coworkers that something did come from that guy she hit it off with.

Everyday, Y/N felt she did the same exact thing, she went to work, would come home and if Spencer was still in Quantico, she would convince him to come over. (They had been dating for over a year now, and Y/N had never been to his apartment. She didn’t even know where it was). If Spencer did come over, he would usually bring some kind of dessert with him, and they would talk and be merry in their own little secret oasis. A couple weeks ago, Y/N started to get this uncomfortable, uneasy feeling that encompassed her whole body, her whole being. Every part of her was trying to tell her that Spencer Reid was not the man for her. And even though she was still very much in love with him, she agreed.

Although she loved Spencer for the person he was, the man who brought her every different flavor of cheesecake from the bakery across town (one a day for fifty nine days straight), the man who begged her to make him a painting for valentines day instead of buying him a present, the man who cried when she did and laughed when she did and-

There were a lot of things to love about Spencer Reid, but there were a lot of things to hate about their relationship.

She hated the time she bought a gold locket in the shape of a heart, and put a picture of them in it so she could keep him with her all day long, and he made her return it because it could fly open and someone could recognize him. She hated the day she came home with a little beige kitten named Betsy and Spencer made her give Betsy to her sister so that he wouldn’t get cat hair on his clothes and have to answer a million questions. She hated the time Spencer missed her birthday weekend because he had a case and couldn’t give an excuse to why he couldn’t go. She hated that Spencer was her entire life, while she seemed like just an inconvenience to his.

And most of all, she hated that she loved him so much. Because deep down she knew that she could never leave Spencer Reid, but she also knew that there was no way they could last if nothing changed.

Just then Spencer knocked on her door, she had offered him his own key many times, but he declined because he didn’t want anyone to see it on his key ring and ask what it was for. She let him in, and right away his fun perky smile dropped. “You’ve been crying. I can tell.”

“Is that the kind of thing they teach you in FBI school?”

“Yes actually, but that’s not the point,” he said, dropping his bouquet of red chrysanthemums on Y/N’s coffee table and grabbing one of her hands with both of his. “Talk to me Y/N.”

She sighed, “I love you Spencer, but I just don’t know if we can do this anymore.”

“What do you mean flower?”

“Spencer we’ve been together for over a year-”

“One year, two months and five days,” he corrected.

“Yes, yes that. We’ve been together for one year, two months and five days but no one except us knows that.”

“Y/N I thought you were okay with that, I just want you to be safe.”

“I thought I was okay with it but,” she paused, afraid of what she wanted to say, “I’m not Spencer, I don’t want to live like this anymore. I love you, and I want to be with you. To really be with you. What happens if we ever get married, do we have to get eloped, would you even let us get married because you need someone else to watch? When do I get to tell my mom I’m in a relationship? What if you get hurt out in the field, and no one has heard of me, let alone knows to call me, and we never get to say goodbye? How far do you plan on taking this?”

Spencer grew flustered, “Um, I- I don’t know? I didn’t know you were even thinking about those things.”

“Do you think about those things? Things like getting married?”

“You’re the love of my life Y/N, of course I do.”

“Well then something needs to change. We can’t live like this anymore.”

“Things will get better Y/N, I promise you, we’ll start small but I’m going to make this better for you. Actually, um we can start right now,” he started digging through his messenger bag. After a minute, he pulled out a smaller gold heart locket than the one you had originally purchased for yourself. “I, um I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I feel like now is the best time. I couldn’t find the same one, but it’s the same picture inside.”

She teared up, “I love it. It’s perfect. Here, put it on me.” She turned around and pushed her hair to one side so that Spencer could clasp the delicate chain around her neck.

They kissed, and afterward Spencer spoke, “I hate to ruin this moment, but I’ve had to use the bathroom ever since I got here.”

Y/N laughed, “Ok go, I’ll be waiting.”

While waiting for her love to come back, Y/N admired her flowers. Ever since Spencer began to get her different flowers to symbolize different things she had developed an abnormal botany fascination. She would always beat Spencer to explaining the symbolism of her latest bouquet, so she already knew the red chrysanthemum was a symbol of prosperous, passionate love in most countries. However she also knew that in Italy, chrysanthemums were a death flower, given only at funerals.

Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if some unconscious part of Spencer’s genius brain was beginning to feel the same way she did. Three weeks later nothing much had changed in the state of Y/N and Spencer’s romance. She was still unheard of in the eyes of the BAU and two nights prior Spencer had stopped her from calling her mother to tell her about him.

And then Y/N discovered her sick, uneasy, all over body feeling was not just her incredible intuition.

She was pregnant.

She had taken a couple of tests a while prior and could just now get into the doctor to get it confirmed. But it was official. She was pregnant.

As soon as the nurse confirmed it she broke down crying. And when she asked her a couple more questions, she broke down even further. “Are you currently in a relationship?”

“No,” she sniffed.

“Do you know who the father is?”

“I don’t know,” she sobbed.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want to go from here, but there’s a lot more options that you may think. Everything will be okay.”

Y/N still cried the whole way home.

She spent the rest of the day thinking about how to tell Spencer, and then overthinking what he would say.

She knew Spencer loved children, but he couldn’t even manage to tell people she existed, how was he going to explain a long term relationship and a baby?

It would have taken decades for Y/N to prepare to deliver this news, but Spencer showed up at 8:19 pm.

“Hi flower! How are you today?”

“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out, she was not planning to do it exactly like that, but she panicked.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant Spencer.”

He sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair, “You could get an abortion?”

Y/N lost it. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me Spencer?”

“I don’t think a baby is going to be very easy to keep a secret Y/N.”

“Is this how far you’re willing to go Spencer? You want to keep me hidden so bad that you want me to get an abortion? Are you insane?”

“You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry, we’ll figure something out.”

“No, you’re wrong there Spencer. I’ll figure something out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. I love you but, please just get out of my apartment.”

“Y/N please don’t do this, I love you, we can make this work. I know I haven’t been doing the best job for these three weeks, but just give me a little time and I promise we can do this.”

Y/N wiped tears from her eyes, then reached her thumb up to Spencer’s face, wiping his cheek. “Spencer, it’s not a matter of how much I love you or you love me. Sometimes, things just aren’t made to work out. We gave it a good run, but no matter how hard we love each other, I don’t think either of us is happy.”

“But I don’t know how to live in a world without you in it, flower.”

“I’ve never been in your world Spencer, after tonight, nothing in your life will drastically change. You don’t have to worry about living in a universe without me because you’ve already been doing that for 15 months.”

“Please don’t do this, can we just give it another try?”

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, “That’s all we’ve been doing.”

The couple stayed in silence like that for a couple of minutes before Spencer spoke. “Can we just stay here for one night. I can’t believe I never got to do it.” Spencer had never spent the full night at Y/N’s place because he always worried that he would forget to answer his phone and the team would try to come to his apartment to tell him they had a case.

“You know we can’t do that Spencer,” she sighed, knowing she had to stay strong and act on her own best interest, but she also loved Spencer. “But you can stay here, if you want.”

He thought for a moment. “Okay, um do I need that key you always offered me? To lock up when I leave?”

“No, the front door locks automatically when you close it, you just have to make sure you have everything before you go.”

And so Spencer slept in Y/N’s bed, for the first time, without her in it.

And Y/N called the one person she knew Spencer would never try to track her down to to avoid exposing himself.

Penelope Garcia.

She of course let Y/N stay with her for the night, and although she would eventually, Garcia did not pry when Y/N said she didn’t want to talk about what was going on. So Y/N walked to her apartment with peace of mind, she knew that although she had a lot to think about, for the time being everything was going to be just fine.

On the way to Penelope’s apartment, Y/N saw a flower vendor. She couldn’t help but stop by and pick up a bouquet for Penelope, but more so for the symbolic meaning.

Daffodils and daisies.

The flowers of new beginnings.

“I'd kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I'd hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies​ @hercleverboy​

[mrsmaybank]

Reid x Latina!Reader: Going Home

A/N: Hiii! I’m actually from Colombia and I may or may not have made all the Spanish dialogue incredibly Paisa, and I really don’t see enough Latina!Reader x Reid fics, or any POC x Reid fics at all, so I figured I’d write one. This particular fic is about A South American (I didn’t specify country so it’s suitable for all Latinas) reader and Spencer going to visit family at their farmhouse in their home country. I really hope it’s inclusive and you like it. If enough people like it, I’ll write a part two! 

TW: Language, Reid being so cute it’s dangerous 

*Parche is Colombian slang for group

“Hijoputa! Pero que elegante...Por supuesto mija...Bueno, chao mi reina! Dios te bendiga..Aja...Mucha mierda..Bueno..okay...chao primita!” You hung up the phone with a sigh. Did you miss your family? Of course. But an hour and a half is a long ass time to be on the phone.

“Baby!” Spencer walked into your living room frazzled, “You’re screaming.” 

“Sorry love. Was on the phone.” 

He laughed and sat on the couch. “Yes, I gathered. Who was it?” 

You joined him on the sofa and snuggled into his chest. Looking up you said, “My cousin Clara. She was begging me to come to the annual family party at our finca. That’s like my family’s--” 

“Ranch or farm.” He smiled cockily.

You poked his chest. “Gringito knows things huh?” He beamed. 

“Why don’t you go?” he questioned, beginning to caress your dark hair. 

“Because you have two weeks off and I want to spend every moment with you? I thought you were smart Spence.” 

“Why don’t I go with you? About time I meet your family, don’t you think?” 

Your heart instantly flooded with love. This meant so much to you. 

“You mean it?” 

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” He laughed. Your eyes began to roll sideways and you got up, starting for your bedroom. 

“Hey, where are you going? And what was that, is-” 

“The party is tomorrow baby. Gotta book our flights! And pack! Lots a shit to do mi amor!” 

“No come back! What was that look for?” He shouted after you. 

After a stressful day of packing, passport nuances, you guys were finally seated in row 3B on a flight to South America. 

“This means so much to me.” You said giddy in excitement. In a couple hours, you’d be being served Refajos and tostones by the pool in the paradise that was your home country. Better yet, it’d be with your family, and the love of your life. You took his hand, “Really Spence. Thank you.” 

He caressed your hand with his thumb, “Of course.” You shook in excitement again, “Okay, you want the rundown? Who you're meeting, where we’re staying, all of it?” 

He smiled at your enthusiasm, “Sure babe.” 

“Ah, yay! Okay, so we’re staying at La Finca Y/L/N, it’s owned by my great grandmother and it is 22 acres of fucking paradise. There’s a pool, and a jacuzzi. There’s a river that runs through it, we can take the four wheelers or the horses out and explore! It’s so so beautiful Spence. The view! Oh my god, you can see the mountains, the forest, the village, it’s gorgeous.” You rambled on it’s amenities and all the amazing memories you’d made there during your childhood. Spencer loved seeing you so electrified. 

“Now you're gonna meet everybody! Mi mama, my papa, my abuelitos! My tias and tios, which by the way anybody older then you is a tia or tio, anybody within 15 years of your age son tus primos, and anybody younger then you is a nephew or niece. It may not be accurate, but don’t question it.” You gave him an accusatory finger. 

“I would never.” 

You guys landed and got driven for about 3 hours to the mountains where the finca was. The entire trip, Spencer read four different English to Spanish Dictionaries. Eidetic memories come in handy because by the time you guys were 10 minutes away, he knew every word he’d have to. Pronouncing it correctly was a different story. 

As you guys stepped out of the car, servants took your bags, and your Abuelita came out the front door, arms spread open. 

“¡Mi palomita!” She shouted and you ran to the front steps, “Abeulita!” 

“Como te extrañe mijita.” You guys continued to hug as Spencer slowly walked up. You knew he was nervous, but it didn’t show. 

“Abuelita, mi novio, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

She gave you the eyes, “Un doctor?”

“Hola, Dona Elizabeth. Es muy espectacular conocerte. Gracias por tener me en tu casa, er, tu finca. Es muy guapo.” You giggled a little at his thick American accent and his describing the house as “guapo”, but mostly you just felt tickled by the butterflies in your stomach. God you loved this man. 

“Hola, Spencer. Gracias por mantener tu ojo en mi nieta. Esta es una loquita, ah? ”

Spencer nodded his head and smiled, “Si.” 

“Bueno mis amores, adentro, el *parche te quiere ver.”

As you guys entered the house, the smell of empanadas and lime satiated in your nose, and the sounds of laughing, chatter and Jaunes rang through your ear. You were home. 

Clara was the first to notice you and Spencer walking through the door. 

“Y/N Y/M/N, pensé que nunca ibas a llegar! Oscar no cierra su boca y no quiero oír una vez más quién va ganar esta puta copa.” She turned around to face your other cousin, “Deverdad! ¡Si no juega James, no me interesa! Más cansón que una tostada en un brasier.” 

Spencer leaned in your ear and whispered, “More annoying than a piece of toast in your bra?” You almost bursted in laughter. 

“Clara llegué hace dos minutos y ya le estás gritando al pobre Oscar David.” 

“Callate y dame un abrazo puta.” You hugged her tight, your other favorite cousins Oscar and Santi joining in. Spencer let you guys have your moment. 

“Guys this is my boyfriend. Spencer.” 

“Hola.” He chirped. 

“Don’t worry, you're off the hook here man.” said your cousin Santi, “We speak English.” Spencer sighed a breath of relief and you all sat down at the kitchen counter. 

“Where are your parents, my tias and tios? Yo, where are MY parents?” 

“They went with the kids to Pance for the day. They’ll be back for the party tonight though.” 

“Pance’s a whitewater river about an hour away Spence.” 

“I know. The river Pance actually has some historical significance in the South American struggle from independence to Spain.” You smiled. His random knowledge was too cute. 

“Live in Miami, born here. Where you from Spencer?” your cousin Santi passed you both beers. 

“Grew up in Vegas.”

“Ah, that’s where I’m trying to go man!” Oscar laughed. 

“With your shitty poker habits?” Clara retorted. 

You guys all laughed and talked for hours, all of your cousins starting to like Spencer just as much as you knew they would.

[eideticmemory]

DARLING & DANDELION | SPENCER REID

Spencer is a lot of things to you. Your baby daddy, your lover, your best friend, and a massive pain in your ass.

Word Count: 6k.

Warning/Includes: Dad!Spencer, smut, angst, hurt/comfort.

You haven’t even caught your breath yet and you go, “We can’t do this anymore.”

And Spencer’s, whose chest is still heaving up and down, goes, “Wh…what?”

“We can’t do this anymore,” you wipe sweat from your forehead. “It’s tacky.”

Spencer props himself up his elbow and turns his body to face you, “Tacky? What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that. You know what I mean.”

“It’s…I mean…we…it’s healthy.”

“Tuh!” you laugh. “That’s your professional opinion, doctor?”

“Yes. Yes, sex is good for the body and the mind.”

“What if…” you prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’s with your ex, who you can never work it out with, who you have a kid with, on an occasional and convenient basis?”

“From personal experience, it’s the best sex you can ever have,” he finishes his sentence with a devilish smile and you roll your eyes, poke your tongue out at him.

You shake your head, “I have to go. You have to go,” you get out of bed.

Spencer’s eyes scan over your naked body and he asks, “Why? Where are you going?”

“Gotta pick up Dandelion from my mom’s,” you tell him as you button your jeans.

“Can I come?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? I haven’t seen Dandy in a week.”

“It’s not about you seeing Dandy. It’s about my mom seeing you.”

“What? She loves me.”

“Duh, more than she loves me, but you know how she likes to pry. She’s gonna think we’re back together.”

“Ah! No, not that we’re back together,” he mocks. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, darling.”

“Well, it’s not a good thing. Put some clothes on.”

“Take your clothes off.”

“Oh, you wish.”

“Can I come?”

“You came about five minutes ago, mister. It’s time for you to go.”

He fakes a laugh, “You’re so clever. Can I come?”

“Are you going to keep asking?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. “Fine, just, put some fucking clothes on.”

“You’re so easy to wear down,” he giggles, and he hops up, gets himself dressed. You go to leave the room and he calls out to you, “Hey.”

He steps in front of you, takes a good look, and runs his hand over your hair, “I think it would be a good thing…”

You feel this lump in your throat, jammed in the center of your voice box, blocking any air, any words. You tear your eyes away from him and clear your throat, “God, I hate your haircut.”

He chuckles to himself as you maneuver around him and he follows you out to your car.

You ring your mom’s doorbell and say, “Need you to act normal, please.”

“Oh, so, not like we just came from having sex?”

“Exactly.”

You feel him squeeze your ass and you jump, swat at his arm, “Hey!”

“I’m just getting it all out now.”

And as you roll your eyes, the door opens and your mom greets you with nothing but an, “Oh!”

“Hey, mom,” you wave as you step inside.

“Hey, mom,” Spencer mimics and gives her a big hug.

“Well, this is a surprise, huh?”

“Wrapped up with a case early, darling said I could tag along.”

You round the corner into the living room and see Dandelion sitting in front of the TV, legs crisscrossed underneath her. You lean against the wall and just watch her for a moment. You scan over her features, your eyes landing on the tip of her nose that pokes out just like her dad’s. You clear your throat and she does a double take when she sees you.

“Mommy!” she shouts, and she hops up at lightning speed, rushing towards you as fast as her little feet will carry her.

You drop to your knees and let her crash into you, engulf her in your arms, hold her really tight. You pepper her face with kisses, saying, “Hi, baby, hi, baby!”

“Did you have a good day at work?” she asks you.

“Yes, baby. How was your day with Mimi?”

“We got ice cream.”

“No way!”

“Yes!”

“What kind of ice cream?”

“Chocolate,” she giggles.

“Ooh, that’s your favorite. Did you eat all of it?”

“Yes.”

“Every single bite?”

“Yes!”

“Where did it all go, huh?” You start to tickle her tummy and she falls over in laughter. “Here? Here?”

Her giggles are so loud and contagious that you smile so wide, it hurts your face. “Guess what? I have a surprise for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes, you,” you tickle her face. “Look,” you stand her up. “Look who’s here.”

On queue, Spencer pops his head around the corner and Dandelion’s eyes light up. She jumps up and down, screaming, “Daddy!”

“Dandy!” Spencer exclaims, and he scoops her up in his arms.

You stand up as he walks her into the living room, pecking soft kisses all over her face, twirling her around, “Oh, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You watch the two of them, Spencer sat on the couch with Dandelion in his lap, his arms around her protectively. And as you settle into the peace of it all, something - someone - pinches you very hard and they won’t let go.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” you wince, as your mom drags you into the kitchen.

“What the hell is Spencer doing here?” she whispers.

She stands in front of you with her arms crossed and you suddenly feel like a little girl. You cut your eyes over to Spencer and Dandy very briefly and stutter, “He…told you. They finished the case early and he asked if he could come see Dandy.”

“Mmhmm…” she nods.

“Mom, please,” you groan.

“Don’t mom, please me. What is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. I…we…he wanted to come see Dandy, so I let him come see Dandy. Coparenting 101, I don’t understand why you’re so suspicious.”

“What…what is this…” she reaches in and pulls down the collar of your shirt to reveal your neck. “Is…is that a hickey? Oh, [y/n], c’mon. What are you? 15?”

“No, no, I…burnt myself with a flat iron.”

She sighs, “I hope you know what you’re doing here, kid.”

“I’m not doing anything. Nothing is happening. I…”

“Shush,” she tells you and you turn around as Spencer enters the kitchen.

“Darling?” he calls.

“Hm?” you reply.

“Could I, uh, could Dandy come home with me? I’ll be off tomorrow and I can watch her while you’re at work and you could pick her up after?”

You and your mom exchange a glance and you cross your arms defensively, “Sure,” you nod at him. “Sure, if Dandy’s okay with that.”

“Thank you!” he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and your mom raises her eyebrows at you.

Spencer runs back into the living room, chanting, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!” and Dandelion bursts into laughter, repeating him, going, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!”

“Does he know nothing is happening?” your mom asks you.

“Spencer’s a smart boy, mom. Don’t worry about him.”

“And yet,” she sucks her teeth. “He’s a complete dumbass when it comes to you.”

Spencer asks if you can drive them to the park. There, JJ meets you with Henry. Dandy and him are close in age. In fact, Spencer had just returned from seeing Henry in the hospital when you told him you were pregnant. It was not your best timing, considering his familial trauma and all, but it had to be done. This puts Henry at 4 and Dandy running in close second at 6 months behind. JJ takes a seat next to you on the bench, watching Spencer run around with the kids. There are the casual aspects of conversation. The how are yous and how’s work and anecdotes about the kids and then she asks, “So, what’s going on between you two?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “Is there a sign on my face today or something?”

“Sore subject?” she grins.

“No. Nothing sore about it. Nothing’s going on…” you look at her from the corner of your eye, then turn your head, “Why? Why, did he say something to you?”

“No.”

A beat passes.

“You seem disappointed by that,” she adds.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. Do not profile me. You know I hate it when you guys do that.”

She laughs, “Well, I lied. He talks about you all the time.”

You bite down on your lip and look away.

A beat passes.

JJ says, “You seem pleased by that.”

You drive Spencer and Dandelion to his apartment and she runs in like she owns the place.

“Okay, so,” you hold out her backpack for him. “She’s got a change of clothes in here, some hair clips, some ties, oh, uh, how much of her body wash and shampoo do you have left? Because I don’t think I put any in here…”

When you look up and he’s giving you a blank stare, you go, “What?”

“You’re not gonna come in?”

“It’ll just confuse her.”

Spencer wants to argue. He wants to sweet talk you and coax you inside, but coparenting 101, “No, yeah, you’re right.”

He watches you kiss Dandelion goodbye and when she runs back inside, he says, “Call you at bedtime?”

“Yes. Please.”

He has that look in his eye like he wants to kiss you, you know it well. So you leave before he can get a chance.

When you’re laying in bed that night, Spencer calls you on FaceTime and he sets you up on the nightstand so you can see them both. Dandelion laying in bed and Spencer kneeling beside her.

“Hi, mommy!” They say in unison.

“Hi,” you giggle.

“We were just about to pick Dandy’s story for the night,” Spencer tells you. “Dandy?”

She tilts her head.

“What story do you want tonight, baby?”

“Ummm…” she hums, giggling, “The story about my name.”

“Ohhh, that’s a good story,” Spencer grins.

“That is a good story,” you smile.

Spencer holds Dandelion’s hands in his and starts, in this sweet, soft voice, “Once upon a time…there was a mommy and a daddy. And they loved each other sooo much that they were gonna have a…”

“Baby!” she finishes for him and he chuckles.

“That’s right, they were gonna have a baby! And the mommy and daddy were sooo excited about their baby, they just couldn’t wait. But when the time came for the baby to come…”

“She didn’t wanna come out!” Dandy laughs.

“No, no, no, the baby didn’t wanna come out. She wanted to stay warm and cozy in the mommy’s belly. So, the mommy and daddy tried everything to get their baby to come out, but nothing worked! Until one day, they went for a walk at the park. And the mommy was so big that she walked like this…” Spencer mimics your trademark waddle and the two of you laugh at him, you rolling your eyes at the screen. “And they walked and walked and walked and nothing was working. Until, this big, big gust of wind came by…”

He flails his arms, going, “Whoooooosh!” and Dandelion mimics him.

“It was so big, it almost knocked the mommy and daddy over. And when the wind stopped, this tiny, small dandelion floated out of the sky and landed right on the mommy’s belly…and then…”

“Pop!” they say in sync.

“The baby was ready to come out! So the daddy took the mommy to the hospital and out came the most beautiful baby the world has ever, ever seen. The mommy and daddy were so happy and they loved her so much. But they still had to pick a name for her. So after they thought and thought and thought, they named her…”

“Diana Dandelion Reid,” she smiles.

“That’s right,” Spencer nods. “But we just call you Dandy.”

Dandelion smiles as Spencer places a kiss on her nose. “Goodnight, baby. Say good night to mommy,” he grabs his phone and holds it up to her.

“Goodnight, mommy,” she tells you and your heart just melts.

“Goodnight, baby,” you whisper. “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She nods and rolls over as Spencer turns out the lamp, leaving her to sleep. Once he’s out of the room, he closes the door and gives you a soft smile.

“Thanks for joining us, darling.”

You smile, nod, “It’s a good story.”

“The best.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it.”

While you’re at work the next day, Spencer sends you a picture of the two of them out on the lake.

S: Pedal boats today!

You giggle to yourself.

Y: Omg so fun!! I thought you were afraid of open water?

S: I was terrified but she begged and begged and begged! What was I supposed to do???

Y: 😂😂😂

You pick up Dandelion after work and she is distraught.

“I don’t want daddy to go!” she cries and you see Spencer’s heart break. You can hear it.

“He’ll be back, baby, he always come back,” you whisper, rubbing her back.

“No-oo-oo!” she cries and reaches up for Spencer who scoops her into his arms before she can ball her hands into a fist.

“Hey, hey, hey, Dandy, look at me,” he cooes. He wipes the tears from her eyes, “You and mommy are going to call me everyday, huh? And you’ll tell me all about your fun day with Mimi and we’ll do your story before bed and I promise you, I will be back before you know it. Okay?”

She sniffles, gives him a sad nod.

“Okay, give me a hug,” he says and they squeeze each other real tight. “You, too, mommy,” he holds his other arm open for you and you hesitate, but only for a moment, and then you step in and wrap your arms around both of them.

“Mmm,” he hums happily, gives you both a kiss on the cheek, “My girls. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Dandelion lets Spencer hand her over to you and he waves until you guys are out of the door and all the way down the stairs. Then he exhales all the air in his chest and he cries. But only for a little bit.

He’s gone for a little over two weeks. The day he comes back, he doesn’t really give you any notice, he just texts: Back in town. What are you up to?

And you, still at work, reply: Nothin. Workin.

S: Lunch?

You meet him at a restaurant down the street and when you walk in, he gets so excited that he stands up to wave and knocks all the silverware off the table. Your hand flies to your mouth as it all falls to the floor in a loud sequence of clangs and booms and you watch him scramble to pick it all up. People are staring and as you make the decision to walk over to him, it’s like you’re saying to everyone: yep, he’s mine!

“Hi, darling,” he huffs, his face bright red.

“Hi,” you laugh.

He takes you in a warm embrace and you hold the back of his head in your hand.

“Oh, I missed you,” he says.

“We missed you, too.”

He’s not supposed to, but like he always has, he tells you all about the case they were working on. Full of twists and turns and gorey details that make you sick to your stomach but, somehow, you can still eat. He asks about Dandy and that leads you into the dreaded preschool conversation and you both shut it down instantly.

“How did she get so big?” he asks.

“We just…kept feeding her,” you laugh and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Time needs to slow down. Seriously. It’s happening too fast.”

“I know. I know, I know, but we’ve got so much more to look forward to, y’know? First day of school and science fairs and graduations…”

“Ah-ah! No, no, none of that. She’s gonna be little forever.”

“You’re in denial, doctor.”

“Well, duh.”

“Here’s the check, you guys,” the waiter interrupts. “No rush, though. Take your time.”

“Thanks,” you say in unison.

“He only brought one check?” you question.

Spencer raises his eyebrows at you.

“And he gave it to you? How caveman of him.”

“Now, now, darling, stand down. Let me pay for your food.”

“I mean, of course I’m going to let you pay for it. I just don’t like the assumption.”

“What assumption?” he smirks.

“I…you really like driving me insane, don’t you?”

He cackles and nods, “Yeah, actually. Kinda my job.”

You laugh and lean into him a bit. The booth you two are in has you sandwiched shoulder to shoulder, and sure, there is plenty of room for there to be distance between you two, but you don’t want there to be. You look at his neck and reach in. As your fingertip touches his skin, you can feel his pulse kick up. You pull the chain from underneath his shirt and let the dandelion pendant fall to his chest.

“Where’s yours?” he asks and his fingertips trail over your collarbone, grabbing onto your matching necklace.

You release his chain, but he won’t let go off yours and he’s giving you that look and you just shake your head, “I should really get back to work.”

When you get to his place, the two of you burst through the door, bodies mangled and tangled together, lips mushed into each other’s faces. Spencer’s got his arms wrapped tight around your waist and your hands have gotten lost in his hair. As he pushes you backwards, you trip over a barbie doll and nearly fall over but he catches you.

“You okay?” he mumbles.

“Mhm,” you nod, and you whip your bodies around, push him onto the couch. He lands with a deep, “oof!” and watches you crawl into his lap. His eyelids drop, feeling the warmth of your hand on his face and your lips on his neck. He grips onto your waist, bunches your dress up in his hands and you work to unbutton his shirt.

You breathe into each other’s mouths, out of breath and grinding against one another on a constant, rhythmic loop.

“Mm,” you moan as he licks down your neck. “Do you have a condom?”

“Mm,” he ponders, “Condom, condom, condom…yes!” And he throws you off of him, leaving you laying on your back while he runs into his room. You slide your panties off and he returns with the packet in hand and falls right on top of you.

His body perched between your legs, you undo his pants and take his jaw in your hands, put your tongue in his mouth. He puts the condom on and holds onto the couch as he pushes all the way into you. You both gasp and Spencer crashes on top of you, catching you in a messy kiss. You pull your legs back for him and he starts pounding into you with this rhythm that you love and he knows that you love. He peppers soft kisses all over your face and grunts into your ear, grips onto your jaw so he can look you in the eye. He thrusts into you so quickly and with so much force that the couch is rattling around on the floor and your head is getting knocked off the edge of the couch. But he’s got you.

Your moans bounce off the walls and your mouth is wide open as you scream, “Fuck!”

As Spencer leans into kiss you, the both of you lose your balance and go sliding off the couch.

“Oh, shit!” you gasp, and try to hold on, but it’s too late and you guys fall on the floor, Spencer groaning as he breaks your fall.

“Oh, my god,” you whisper, leaning down to comfort him. “Oh, my god, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just…just do that thing with your hips that I like,” he huffs.

You readjust, “This?” you pant as you start to grind your hips on his cock.

“Oh, yeah,” he moans, his eyes falling shut and his head rolling back. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You lean back, resting your hands on his knees and bounce on him, your mouth falling open. He paws at your breasts and pulls at the fabric of your dress. He knows you’re about to come because he knows you, and he knows your body and he can feel you tightening around him, your hips increasing in speed. Your voice starts to get real whiny and you pound your palms into his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper and all he can do is watch, and hold himself back until you get there.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against him until your whole body tenses up and trembles. You come with his face in your chest and your eyes rolling so far back in your head that you go blind. It only takes a few more motions of your hips for him to follow behind you and he holds onto you for dear life, muffling his groans against your skin.

You both fall onto the floor, still holding each other, trying to catch your breath. Spencer grips onto your hair and kisses you passionately, repeatedly, and casually says, “Love you.”

You can’t stop the visceral reaction you have. You just sit up and stare at him, your eyes big and wide. “I…” you stutter, give him a friendly pat on the face, “Love you…I have to go.”

He watches, dazed and confused, as you hop off of him and fix your dress, “You’re making me feel cheap here, darling.”

You laugh, awkwardly, “No, no, I just, I’m so late for work. I have to get back,” you trip over your panties as you pull them up your legs and swear, “Shit!”

Spencer fixes his pants and stands up, striding over to you, “I freaked you out…”

“What? No. You didn’t freak me out.”

“Because, I can say I don’t love you if it’ll fix it.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

“I don’t love you, I…hate you actually.”

“I’m just late for work,” you try to slide out the door but he reaches out for you.

“Wait, wait,” he calls. “I thought I could maybe see Dandy today?”

“Uh, yeah, she’s at my mom’s just, go whenever,” you shrug. “I have to go. Bye.”

“Darling?” he calls, but you close the door on him.

Your body shivers and you march down the hallway, down the stairs and back on your way to work. When your shift ends, you head over to your mom’s and she opens the door with a bright smile, “Hello, my love!”

“Hi,” you groan as you step inside.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just, rough day. Need to see my Dandy…” you round the corner and see Spencer playing with her in the living room, so you push yourself back, your mom along with you.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you whisper.

“He’s been here for a few hours. He said he told you?”

“He…I mean…yeah, he did. Why is he still here?”

“I don’t know, [y/n], maybe to be an active, caring father? Crucify the boy, why don’t you?”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest and you tug on your hair with a rush of anxiety.

“[y/n]…” your mom says. “What is going on?”

You sigh and lean against the wall, “I don’t know what I’m doing…you were right, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

And she steps in, grabs your shoulders, takes a deep breath. You follow her. In and out, in and out.

“Well, then,” she nods. “You better figure it the fuck out, baby.”

“I know. I know, I know.”

“Mommy?” Your heads turn to the sound of the tiny voice and Dandelion looks up at you with wide, innocent eyes and every bit of tightness in your chest just dissipates.

“Hi, honey,” you coo and you instantly lean down to pick her up. “Oh, hi, you. Hi, my baby.”

Spencer follows her out there and waves, casually, “Hi, mommy.”

“Hi,” you nod to him.

“Me and daddy made a castle,” Dandelion tells you. “Come look!”

“Oh, yes, show me, show me!”

You follow her into the living room, leaving Spencer with your mom. She purses her lips at him and then promptly walks by him, giving his shoulder a harsh slap.

“Ow!” he exclaims. “What did I do?”

Spencer takes Dandelion home for the night. It’s a Friday so he plans to have her all weekend and most of next week which is fine with you. It’ll give you time to rest and reflect and figure it the fuck out. Spencer takes the hint. For once, he takes the hint and he only texts you sporadic updates.

So, when he calls you on Monday at four in the morning, you think he wants to have a talk. One of those conversations that you guys can never seem to have in the light of day.

“Hello?” you grumble.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry I woke you up. Can you, um, can you come over?”

You sit up, “Why? Is Dandy okay?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. She’s asleep. I, uh…there’s a case…”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re already up to get dressed.

“Darling…”

“I’ll be there in ten,” and you hang up.

He sees your car pull in from the street and he has the door open for you when you get upstairs. He has his go-bag packed and he looks apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “I’ll make it up to you. Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “I’ve got it. You can go.”

“Darling, you know I can’t…I…I didn’t ask to be called in.”

“No, well, duh. This is just one of those things, right?” you shrug. “One of those things I could never stand and I still can’t stand. I’m used to it. It’s fine. I’ll explain to Dandy.”

“This isn’t about the case…”

“Can you…please?”

“This is about the other day. When we…when I…”

“I’m not upset. Don’t project on me. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay, that was convincing.”

“Why do you always have to do this?” you snap, keeping your voice down. “Without fail. You always do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you always have to ruin a good thing? You always, always just have to suck the fun out of everything.”

He scoffs, goes to speak, and pauses, “Did it ever occur to you that…that it wasn’t fun for me, [y/n]?”

Oh, he’s serious. He used your real name.

“That I didn’t enjoy being yanked around and used like some toy?”

“I…oh, come on! Is your eidetic memory broken or something? You initiated it, remember? And if you did that just in hopes of us getting back together, that’s not fair. That’s so unfair.”

“I just wanted to be close to you. And, yeah, maybe that wasn’t fair. But I just…I’m having a hard time believing that it doesn’t work. That we don’t work, hey,” he grabs your shoulders, makes you stop shaking your head and look at him, “Maybe for all the hurt we’ve caused each other and all the baggage, maybe it’s just meant to work. We are meant to work, okay? Because I love you. I am so in love with you. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, look,” he puts your hand to his chest, “Feel how fast my heart is beating? It does not every time I’m around you. I can’t help it.”

“Please, stop.”

“And you’re telling me you don’t feel the same way?” he puts his hand to your ribs and your heart is pounding against his palm. “I don’t believe you.”

It takes you a moment before you can pry his hand away. You remove your hand from his chest, hold his hands in yours, and give him this sad, sad look.

You can see his shoulders fall in defeat, this heavy breath of air coming straight from his chest. He steps away and grabs his go-bag, stands up straight, “It’s a local case so I shouldn’t be gone too long. Kiss Dandy for me?”

You nod, but you can’t look at him. You let him place a kiss on your forehead and then he leaves. You lock the door behind him.

You crawl into bed with Dandelion and you stir for most of the night.

By the time you fall asleep, she wakes up twenty minutes later.

And so, life just kinda goes on. Spencer calls to talk to Dandy just before you go into work so you tell him to call your mom and he does. That’s the last you hear from him for the next couple of days until he calls you while you’re at work.

“Hello?” you answer.

“[y/n]?”

You pause for a moment, “JJ?” and then the realization hits you and you hop up from your desk, running out of the building.

There’s some words like “bomb” and “concussion” and “pavement” but they all blur together and you yell, “Just tell me what hospital!”

You can’t even remember where you parked your car. Everything is muffled and you rush around the crowded hospital in a frenzy. You can’t hear anything. Hell, you can barely see anything. Just Derek, holding an ice pack to his head, pointing you towards a room so you go.

When you see Spencer lying there, a big bandage wrapped around the circumference of his head and a doctor tracking his vitals, you can barely bring yourself to step in the room.

The doctor glances at you, then returns to his clipboard, “Are you his wife?”

You step in, slowly, bring yourself to Spencer’s side, “I’m, uh, the closest thing he’s got to one.”

He tells you there’s some swelling around Spencer’s brain, but it’s been drained. He can’t provide you with an exact estimate of when Spencer will wake up. If he ever wakes up. And as this man is talking to you in this stern, stoic voice, you just look at Spencer. You trace the structure of his face and put your hand on his chest. The doctor leaves and you still can’t pull yourself away from him.

“You did this on purpose,” you whisper, caressing his face. “You did this on purpose to make me feel bad, didn’t you? Because…because I was awful to you…I’m so sorry,” you sob. “I’m so sorry.”

You lay your head on his chest and cry, “Just don’t die. I can’t do this by myself, you hear me? Please, don’t, die.”

Spencer wouldn’t wake up for another four whole days. You sleep in the chair beside his bed until a nice nurse brings you a cot. Dandelion stays at your mom’s house and JJ offers, repeatedly, to give you a a chance to leave. Shower, eat, see your kid. But you’re so worried that if you leave, Spencer will die. So you fall asleep every night to the sound of his heartbeat on the monitor and if it ever should stop, you would know. On day four, you pop your head up from a few hours sleep and he’s watching you. His eyes are hooded and grey, but they are open, you can tell. You hop up and rush over to him, gently setting your hands on his body.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Hi! Hi! Hi, Spencer,” you sob. “Oh, my god.”

He stares at you for a moment, then his eyes scan the room. He looks back at you, “Who…” his voice breaks, “Are you?”

Your eyes go wide and you let out this defeated sound. You don’t even know where to begin. You don’t know how to respond or what to do or how to feel. You think you’re gonna crumble to your knees. And then he smiles.

“I’m just messing with you, darling.”

“Ugh!” you shout and you start slamming your palms into his chest. “That’s not funny!”

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” he laughs. “Okay, okay, okay, I’m injured here!”

You take his face in your hands and give him a long kiss. You can hear his heart rate go up on the monitor.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he mumbles, as you hug him. “I’m…I’m sorry for everything.”

“No, stop that. Not important. Ridiculously unimportant, okay? Don’t even think about it.”

He nods and breathes you in, “You…stink. When was the last time you showered?”

“That would be…like, the day you were blown up.”

“Ah. When was that?”

“Four days ago.”

“Holy shit.”

You giggle, “Did you just say a bad word, doctor l?”

“Fuck, cut me some slack! I slept through hump day.”

You press your nose against his and laugh and the world feels okay again.

Spencer has to stay in the hospital for another week before you can bring him home. Dandelion is back in her own bed and she just thinks Spencer has gone on a long, long trip. She’s at your mom’s when you get Spencer to his apartment and he begs to see her. Even when his head is still killing him, he begs to see her.

“Tomorrow,” you say as you tuck him into bed. “You’ve still got that scary raccoon look going on. Don’t wanna freak her out.”

“Tomorrow? You promise?”

“I promised the both of you. Tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He curls up and notices you crawl in bed beside him, “Darling, you don’t have to sleep here.”

“Shhhh,” you whisper, run your hand through his hair, “Go to sleep.”

The next day, he is more like himself. Maybe it’s the adrenaline he gets from the prospect of seeing his daughter, maybe it’s waking up next to you in the morning, but either way, he looks like himself and he talks like himself and he can’t wait to go to the park.

Your mom meets you there with Dandelion and she trips over her feet running to Spencer. She crashes into him and nearly knocks him over, and you can tell it hurts him, but he takes it and kisses her face.

“Where were you, daddy?”

“Oh, on a long, long trip, baby. But I’m back now.”

“I missed you!”

“Oh, Dandy,” he squeezes her tight. “You have no idea.”

He plays for as long as he can. He climbs the playset and runs around playing tag and hide and seek until his breath nearly gives out. He runs over to the bench you and your mom are sat on and huffs, “Can someone else push her on the swing before I pass out?”

The two of you laugh and your mom says, “I’ll go.”

“Thanks,” Spencer takes her spot beside you and his head falls into your lap. “Phew! Tell you what, a coma seriously bends you out of shape.”

“Well, you weren’t all that much in shape before the coma.”

“Ugh,” he groans. “You sound like the fitness personnel at the academy. What does in shape even mean?”

You cackle and he puts his arm over your shoulder. The two of you watch Dandy on the swing. Up and down, up and down, higher and higher, until her laughter is echoing around the park.

“You know…” you start. “Maybe it wouldn’t be…the worst thing in the world…”

Spencer doesn’t even have to ask what you’re talking about, he just looks at you and smiles, “Really?”

You give him a sly shrug.

He looks away from you, trying to keep himself from smiling so hard that his face rips in half. “I…I’m sorry - it’s because I got blown up, isn’t it?”

“Just shut up,” you laugh.

“You can tell me the truth, I won’t be mad.”

“You know what? I take it back, you get on my nerves. Oof!” you exclaim as he suddenly takes you into a tight hug. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a calm, serene peace.

“Yeah, well,” he says, “Sorry, too late.”

[reid-is-a-cutie]

New fic series rolling out tonight..

A new Reid X Reader series starts tonight! Not gonna give too much away. Comment/reblog to be placed on the tag list.

[waywardscorpio]

The Day He Walk's Away!

Introduction Chapter

*Third Person*

It was around twelve in the morning, when the team got the call about Gideon being murdered in his own home. Everyone rushed over to, his house. Spencer and Y/N was the last two to get there. When they walked into the house, they could see cops cleaning up the crime scene, with Gideon's body still laying there on the ground covered up with a white sheet. Y/N couldn't believe it. Though she was new to the team she had always heard good things about him. Reid was angry and distraught from the news they had just gotten from Hotchner.

Reid walks out of the cabin. 'This isn't real' he thought to himself. Reid is taking it the hardest because of the fact Reid was the closes to him, and Giddeon had left a note for him when he decided to leave the BAU for good. It broke Y/N's heart to see her boyfriend in pain. She followed out after Reid to talk to him. But she couldn't find him anywhere. Then she noticed their car was gone. "He just left me here?" She said to no, one in particular. She was worried very much about her boyfriend. "I'll give you a ride to check on, the Kid." Rossi says to Y/N. She nodded her head as she got into one of the Suv's with Rossi.

After the case was solved about who murdered Gideon, Y/N was waiting for Reid to get home so, she can give him the news about him going to be a father. It had been a week since Gideon's death an Y/N, thought that the news would help bring light to the dark pain in her, boyfriends head.

Y/N, just finished up dinner, as read was walking through the door. "Hey, handsome." Y/N, says to Reid smiling up at him. "Hey, beautiful." He replies back to her kissing her lips softly. "Dinner is ready." She says to him. "Let me get washed up." He says as he walks to the bathroom. After about ten minutes Reid, came back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Y/N had two plates made and two glasses of soda on the table.

Reid, smiles at her a little as he began to eat his dinner. Y/N, ate her dinner in silence. After they were both done eating, and Y/N, cleaned up the kitchen. After she had finished the kitchen, Y/N, went and sat next to Reid. "Reid, I have something to tell you. No, it's not bad before you ask." She says to him. Reid looks at her, letting Y/N, know she has his attention. "Reid, I know you've had a bad week" She started. "Yeah, I agree. I'm just glad I have you by my side." He said as he looks into her soft E/C eyes.

"I'm glad that, I have you." She said. She looks at him "Reid, I'm pregnant" Y/N, said looking at Reid. Reid turns his head and looks at her. "You're what?!?!" Is all he could get out. Y/N, repeats herself "I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant? Are you sure that, you're pregnant? I'm not ready for kids, Y/N." Reid, looks at Y/N, as she began to tear up. "What? Yes, Reid I'm sure. I went to the doctors and they did a blood test. It came back positive, that I am pregnant. I went three days before Gideon was killed." Y/N, whispers as the tears fall from her (E/C) eyes, and stain her cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me about it sooner?" Reid, asks her.

"Because I wanted to surprise you with the news. But the night was gonna tell you, you got the call that Gideon was murdered. I was giving you time to calm down, and not bombard you with a lot of news. "It" isn't an it. It's a human being that is growing inside my belly." Y/N, said starting to get upset.

After Y/N, finished talking Reid stood up and walks out of the house, after saying "Goodbye, Y/N. You and the baby, are better off without me." And with that Reid, got in his car and left.

Y/N, sat on the couch for two hours sobbing. When she finally calmed down, she called her bestfriend Rossi. She waited for him to answer as it is ringing. After about the third ring he answers. "Hey, Y/N." He said answering the phone. "Hey, R-Rossi" she said sniffling. "What happened? Are you okay?" He asks her. "R-Reid, left..... left.... me. He said me and the baby are better off without me" Y/N, said starting to cry and cough a little. "I'm on my way. Pack your stuff. You're staying with me." She could tell Rossi, was angry. "I can't do that to you. I don't wanna be a burden on you."

Rossi spoke his head as he got in his car, an shut the door. "Y/N, you'll never be a burden on me." He said as he starts the car and began to drive. "I'm on my way. Now go an get some of your stuff packed." He said not giving her time to argue. She wasn't gonna argue though, because arguing with Rossi, you'll lose that argument.

Y/N, went upstairs and packed her suitcases full of her clothes, shoes, hair brush and make-up, and all her personal belongings. When she was done she walks down stairs. Not much longer Rossi, was knocking on the front door. Y/N got up off the couch an opens the door. "Hey beautiful" He says to her. 'Beautiful' is Rossi's, nickname for Y/N. She sniffles looking up at him. "Hey Rossi." She said as he hugs her and she began to quietly cry in his chest.

Rossi, rubs Y/N's, back softly as he sighs softly. "Come on, beautiful let's get this stuff in the car." He said to her softly. She nods her head as she agrees to what he said. After they got to Rossi's house, he makes Y/N, go inside and relax while he got everything out of the car and into the house.

Y/N, was sitting on the couch, while Rossi was cleaning out the car. When Rossi, finished he walks over to his couch, and sat down next to her. Y/N, looks at him pain clearly in her (E/C) eyes and on her face. Without any words from Y/N, Rossi, already knew the question in her mind. "I know. I thought, he would've been happy. I didn't know that he would do this to you. Just give him a few days Y/N. Maybe he just needs some time." Rossi said as he gives Y/N, hug. "What if he doesn't? How am I supposed to go to work, we're on the same team?" She said as she sniffles a little bit. "I know you, don't want to but maybe transfer to a new team or take time off. You don't have to worry about anything I have plenty of rooms for you to stay here and that baby." Rossi said.

Y/N, looks at Rossi. "Rossi, can I ask you something?." He nodded his head "Yes, ofcourse." Rossi replies. "Would you be the baby or babies, godfather?" Y/N, asks softly. "Yes, I would be honored to be the baby or babies, godfather."

Rossi and Y/N, sat up for a few more hours talking before he showed her up to a spear bedroom, that's fully furnished with its own bathroom attached to it. Y/N, had fallen asleep within a few minutes of laying down.

~~~Three Months Later~~~

Y/N, just got home from a case and she was now on a two week vacation. It had been three months since Spencer, walked out and her transfer to a new team. When everyone found out why she transferred to a new team, they weren't happy with Spencer, and just as shocked as she was. Y/N, made Emily and Garcia, the godmothers, an also Morgan a godfather just incase anything happens to herself, or one of the team members, the baby or babies will always be with family. Y/N, made everyone promise not to hate or hurt Spencer, because though he walked out, she still loves him with all her heart.

Rossi, wanted Y/N, to feel at home so, he sent her to stay with JJ and Will, for a little bit. He was gonna surprise Y/N, with something that is more home feeling than plan walls. An since she was on vacation, and he wasn't gonna get a call unless if was for a case.

Y/N, got to JJ and Will's house. As she walks up the steps she knocks on the door and waits patiently. After a few minutes the door opens. "Hey Y/N. Come in" Will said opening the door for her to get in. "Thank you, for letting me stay here. Rossi, insists, that I get out of the house for a little while." She said. "He's just worried about you. We all are. An if you ever need anything JJ and I, are here for you." Will says to Y/N. She gave a small nod as she set her bags down.

"Where is JJ?" She asks Will. "She went out to get food for lunches." He replied. "Is there anything I can help with?" She asks hopeful. "Not at the moment. Henry and Michael, are napping, and the house is cleaned. Relax for a little because I know when the boys wake up they're going to be happy to see, Auntie Y/N." He said. She nods smiling a little as she sat at the kitchen table.

Will hands her something to drink. "How is living with Rossi?" Will, asks Y/N. "Its not bad at all. He makes me take it easy so, I don't over do myself. I help with what I can, if I'm able to help" She replies sipping her drink. They talked for a while before JJ, got back home. "Hey Y/N, guess who I found wondering in the mall shopping for you and the baby?" She said. Y/N, looks up to see a giddy Garcia and a whole lot of bags. "Those aren't all for me and little bean are they?" She asks giggling a little. "No, this one is for Derek." She said holding up one bag.

"When do I get to see, what you got?" Y/N, asks Penelope. "At the Baby shower. Except for this one" She said handing a bag to her. Y/N, took the bag and looked in it. She gasps softly at what was in the bag. "Penny, it is beautiful" She said taking the big black and red skull blanket out of the bag. "That one was a fight to get. Cause another one tried fighting me to get it." Garcia giggles. "Thank you, Penny." Y/N, says.

JJ, smiles. "There is the smile, we all missed" She said to Y/N. She knew that Y/N, was still a bit upset after Reid, left. "Movie night, tonight. Everyone is coming over." Will said. Y/N, frowns a little. "Reid, isn't going to be here. He already said he wasn't coming." Penny said. Y/N, just nods her head and slipped her drink.

After the movie night and dinner, everyone left and went home. Y/N, was laying down sleeping soundly.

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

Heartless - a criminal minds episode\\part 2

part 1, part 3, masterlist

- english is not my first language please exuse any spelling or grammer mistakes.

- this case is made up

- it happens around the.. 6th season, i think? so the team is Hotch, dave, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and reid

- it will end up being Reidxreader kinda, tho my main focous is to create a plot line for an episode with a (y\n) charecter.

- lmk what you think - i try to make the charectes as in charecter i can :)

As per Hotches orders, once they've landed Reid and dave went to the MEs office, to take a look at the bodies. (y\n), prentiss and JJ joined Hotch and Morgan at the local police station, tho when they arrived the 5 of them split up - Hotch and morgan setteled in the station and talked to the chief officer, while the rest started interviewing the ex-soon-to-be-wives. … "Mr. Clark, hello, i am SSA prentiss" Emily says, shaking his hand as she sat down. He is wearing his work uniforms - a polo shirt with the symbol of the garage he workes for and a pair of dirty jeans with stains that are probably impossible to remove.

"i am so sorry for your loss, i can't even imagine what you are going through. The guy who was sitting across from her nodded, "thank you" he smiles weakly, clearly forcing himself to keep a more profational deminor, thoe he wasn't sure why, "and please, call me Daniel. mr. Clark is my dad". Prentiss smiles at him, trying to be comforting. "well, Daniel, i have a few questions for you, this might be… not so easy to hear, so take a moment, if you feel like you need it" Emily says, taking a breath herself.

This guy was already heartbroken over his murderd fiance, and now she's about to ask him if there is any chance he was being cheathed on. What an awful way to learn your partner may have been unfaithful. "go on, i am ready for whatever it is. i just want to know who did this to my… to the love of my life" Daniel says, and so Emily asks the question she has to. "Daniel, were there ever any suspitions your fiance was cheating on you?"

… "Mrs. garisson, hey" JJ smiles at the poor woman sitting on the padded chair, eyes red and hair in a messy bun. She is wearing a nice enough dress, clearly attempting to look okay. Layla wipes away the tears streaming down her face. "Hey" she says in a weak voice. "my name is Jennifer Jeroue, i am here with the FBI, we came to investigate what happend to James". "Thank you" Layla says, "i- i heard there were others. Other ones who lost.. lost their Fiance, others that…" she tries to finish the senence but failes. Her cries are painful for JJ to hear.

"Jennifer… why him? of all the people…" Layle askes, "he is such a great guy, everyone…" she stops, realising she is talking in present, "liked him. He was always so kind, and nice…" she continues to talk, tripping on her words. JJ lookes at her, wondering how would she be able to break her heart all over again. "uhm, Layla, i have to ask you this question - don't take this in the wrong way, please, we are just trying to make sure we are covering all our bases…" JJ starts, tho finishing the sentence is proving itself to be harder than she thought it will be, "has anyone ever suspected that james was't loyal?"

…

"you must be with the FBI" Winnoa says, reaching her hand out for (y\n) to shake. She is wearing a simple yet complamating button up shirt coverd in stripes that matched the ones on her pants. (y\n) cleares their throat and shake the hand that was offered to them, "yes, hello, i am agent (y\l\n), but you can call me (y\n)". "Thank you for coming" Winnona says, "this… this is awful. I don't think something like that has ever happened in our town. "well, this is part of the reason we are here, to help the local police deal with these horrible crimes" (y\n) says, sitting down. "is there anyway i can help? i was already questioned by the officers here, but maybe you can see something they couldn't see in my answears" The woman says, despreat to be of help.

"Winnona, i am very sorry for what i am about to ask…" they start, but they find it hard to figure out a way to finish the sentence. "whatever it is, please" the woman across from them is begging, and so (y\n) clears their throat to ask, tho they end up bearly forming the sentence. "is there any chance… do you think that maybe.. well, Winnona, i am so very sorry - have you ever suspected Sean was being unfaithful?"

…

"Well, no, never. Fiona was a kind soul, she could bearly hurt a fly. i highly doubt she would ever do such thing" Daniel says, "Why would you even feel the need to ask me this question?" his tone was laced with anger, but rightfully so. Prentiss expected that reaction. "well, just making sure we are looking at all possible leads" She says, "Can you think of someone that may have suspected that Fiona wasn't a great match for you? anyone ever objected to your engagment?" she asks this, aware of the facy Daniel is getting more and more upset as more words leave her mouth.

…

"i really don't think so" Layla says, her tone calm but her eyes full of pain. "as i said, he is- was, a lovely man, we loved each other, we were soulmates" her voice breaks as the word 'soulmates' leaves her mouth, and the tears fill her eyes once again. JJ smiled at her a sad smile, "Well. is there any chance there was someone who didn't agree with you on that?" JJ askes. Layla's cries grow stronger, and JJ's need to comfort her wins her need to be profitional. she gets up to rest her hand on Layla's shoulder. The woman leans into JJ, crying, and JJ's heart breaks.

…

"i never suspected such thing" Winnona says, "but, uh, my friend did. he was staying long hours in the office, and my friend who works at a similar posetion claimed she was never asked to stay so long at the office, not at that rate at least. I asked him about that, and he said that her boss is probably just less harsh than his is, and that he only has eyes for me, and that will never change. than he got on one knee and asked if i'll allow him to spend the rest of my life with him. i belived him, and said yes. my friend wasn't very happy about that, but she ended up being supportive. she wanted me to be happy".

"okay, thank you" (y\n) says, sad smile on their face, unsure if this possible lead is a good thing or no. "agent, do you think he was cheating? was my friend right? is that what got him killed?" Winnona askes, but sadly (y\n) dosen't have an answer, so they just say "we'll let you know if we find something".

…

"Garcia is calling" Morgan calls out and Hotch, Prentiss, JJ and (y\n) follow him into the office the BAU took over for their time here. "hey there choclate thounder" Garcia's voice says from the other side of the line. "Baby girl, you are on speaker. Hotch, Prentiss, JJ and (y\l\n) are here with me. did you find any connection between the couples?" Derek says. "hey there you beautiful agents" Garcia said, "i called to let you know there is no overlap in the victimis wedding planning - they looked at different venues, checked out different caterings… even the photographeres they reached out to were different… but i mean, that has to be it, right? i mean, i looked at their socials - they all have privet accounts so i highly doubt that's how the unsub found out about the engagment" Garcia says.

"well, we suspect the unsub could be hunting cheaters, so try to find any hint of cheating in the victims life" (y\n) says. "look at their emails, try to find their profiles on, ugh, dating websites…" JJ says. "Winnona said her fiance worked late but a friend says there is no way he needed to work that many hours" (y\n) adds. "okay, i will get back to you with all the answears, no stone will be ledt unturned. Baby girl out" the beeping of the call being hung up came soon after Garcia's last words.

…

"well, all three bodies had their hearts missing - that you already know, but it seems the cause of death was strangulation, but not manual. I think its some fabric, since they all had fibers under their nails as if they were trying to rip it off them" the ME, dr. Roland, says what she gathered so far. "the mark on the guys is about 3.25 inches, which is the typical width of a tie" Reid says, and Dave looks at him, catching up to Reids idea. "he could be strangeling them with a tie, symbolising the tie they could have been wearing on their wedding day" Dave says, and the ME sqints. "The woman… her mark is… texured, in lack of a different word - could be a vail or a garter" she says, "she also seems to have been dead for at least some of the time he strangeled her". "So he was angrier with her, she was closer to his ideal victim, meaning he was probably hurt by a woman and that's what triggered him to start killing" Dave says.

"dr. Roland, by your judgment, would it take any sergical skills to cut the hearts out the way the unsub did?" Reid asks. "well, the first heart had some cuts on it, meaning the unsub probably cut it while trying to cut it out. the cuts are… well, sonky, so i doubt they were done with actual medical eqipment, it looks like the work of a good quality meat knife. the cuts pn the hearts get fewer and fewer with the other hearts, so i belive he learns from his mistakes" She says. "well, thanks doctor, you helped us a lot" Dave smiles at her, and she blushes.

…

By the time Spencer and Dave made it to the police station, the team was all set up at the office they were assigned. the crime board done, orginised by dates and couples, as well as the note "cheaters?" under the line of photos of the victims. they walk into the room, and Prentiss welcomes them in. "Reid, (y\n), you are on the geographical profile" Hotch says, "prentiss, you and morgan will go interview the first wedding venue, Rossie, you will go with JJ to the second one and i'll go with the chief officer to check out the third one" He orders, "sdresses are waiting at your phones". everyone splits up. "well, the first body was found over here" Dr. Reid starts, grabbing the pen from the desk. well, not exactly the desk, as (y\n) was holding it. "hey!" They called out, But mr. pretty boy didn't mind much.

He marks the spot, "second one here…" he mumbles. (y\n) grabs the pen from him, "and the third one here" They say as they circle the spot. Spencer lets out a half-laught, and if it wasn't for the fact he was slightly rude to them a second ago, (y\n) would have thought it was cute. well, they did, actually. "the victims live here, here, and here" (y\n) mumbles, pointing at the town's map with the pen, but not marking anything. "the victims were'nt taken from their homes tho, so that won't help finding the hunting zone" Spencer sighs, "we should look at where the victims were last seen".

"well, that would be… sean at his job, he should be taking route 45 to get home" (y\n) says, reading from the file as spencer marks it with a different pen. "Fiona was at a lunch with a friend according to Daniel, and her phone pinged at a coffee place around… here" They say, pointing at the map to let spencer know where to leave a green circle. "and James's last text was pinged about 10 minitues from the gym he frequented, right about… here" spencer said. "these are all over the town, and not that close to the dump sites, so the unsub must be mobile. in order to move the bodies he will need a big veichal" (y\n) says, furring their eyebrows at the map.

"what about the wedding venues? they could also be the place the unsub chooses his victims" Spencer says. "we just talked to Garcia, and she said-" (y\n) tries to catch up Reid on the phone call he missed, but right on que there is another incoming call from Penelope Garcia herself. "hey there, Garcia, it's (y'n) and i here" Spencer says. "oh, if it's not my favorite wonder boy and wonder mind" Garcia says. (y\n) was also a genious of sort, but they didn't think they quite compared to Reid, tho with the iq of 130 they were the closest on the team. "Garcia, do you have any updates about the wedding plans or the cheting?" (y\n) asks, and spencer shoots them a slightly confused look, as he didn't get the chance to catch up on the team's idea for a lead.

"well, you know how at first i didn't find a connection between the wedding venues? i looked deeper, so deep i got to the very core, and you know what's in the core? Lave. major, hot lava" Garcia says, "it looks like all of the wedding venues are owned by the same major, greedy company. It's called Marry-go-round, and they own most of the wedding venues in the area. each one is designd to appeal to a different audience - they have gothic ones, hystorical ones, botnical ones… they share employees, meaning one guy might be working at more than one venue…" Garcia says, "and before you ask me to, i am already running searches to see who worked at all 3 the day those couples went".

"you are so great, Garcia, i don't know where we'd be without you" (y\n) says, smiling at the phone. "well, the answear is way behind. goodby lovies, sent the rest of the team my love and warm hugs, i will let you guys know once i have answears regarding to the victims… side-quests" Garcia says, ending the call with a smooch sound of a kiss.

…

Prentiss and Morgan walk into the "garden of eden" venue, that was the one James and Layla looket at. "hello" a woman in a bright red suit welcomed them. "my name is Diane" she said, reaching out her hand to shake the one of the pair infront of her, "it is lovely to have such a beautiful couple here, we actually never had such wedding here, so that would be great to have you two as the first one. "you mean… mixed couples?" Morgan asked, confusion in his voice and slight annoyence. "well-" Diane tries to save herself, but the sentence doesn't get the chance to be fully formed.

"mam, we are not here to plan a wedding, we are here to ask about a couple who did" Prentiss cuts her off, showing her the FBI tag. "well, that's unfortunate. I am sorry, but what does that couple has to do with my wedding venue?" Diane asks. "well, they looked at this… lovely venue, and now one of them is dead and the other one got her beloved boyfriend's heart in the mail" Derek says, sparing no details from the woman who already wasn't on his good side. "well, that's unfortunate, but i still don't see what that has to do with us" Diane stands her ground.

"have you seen anyone suspicius around? someone who looked at couples, trying to study them?" Prentiss asks. "do you think this murderer found them here? well that is impossible, only couples and employees are allowed on the premiss" Diane says. "do you ever have more than one couple looking around? this guy could come here with his own fiance" Derek says, the last part of the sentence directed more to his fellow agent than to the wedding venue annoying manager. "no, and i belive this is where we end this conversation. i have a tour here from an actual couple, so, bye-bye" Diane says, walking around the agents to welcome the couple that just walked in. "hello, my name is Diane, it is lovely to have such a beautiful couple here…"

the agents exchange looks and leave the venue, tho they don't think they are done there just yet.

…

"well, the venue we checked was orginised, they had a security detail at the entrence, even after seeing our badge we were'nt let inside, the manager came out to talk to us" JJ said. "he was a lovely man, once he talked to us for a bit he gave us a tour - i noticed they were fixing a broken part of the fence, but he said that it's usually hidden with flowers, so no one knows of it. he said he'd give us the records of the couples who came there the same day as Daniel and Fiona, meaning we may be able to identify his next victim" Dave said, waving the files in his hand.

"the venue we checked said they have double bookings, sometimes more than one couple is there. sometimes only one half of a couple arrives. we should check and see - mayby there is a couple, or someone who claims to be engaged who was in all three venues the same day as the victims, he could be angry with his fiance, unable to process that, and so he kill people who remind him of her in someway" Hotch says.

"and what about you?" Hotches eyes traveled to the two defided faces of his two agents who just walked in. "well, the manager was a bitch" Prentiss sighed, "she bearly answered our questions, and her whole deminor was just… off" Derek agreed with her. Reid and (y\n) come inside the room, holding 6 cups of coffee in between them both. "oh, you are my savior" Prentiss says as she grabs the coffee (y\n) handed to her.

after the coffee ceremony is done, the wonder due explains their findings regarding the hunting zone and the comfort zone, as well as catching their teamates up to speed regarding the connection between the venues.

just as they finished, the actual savior of the team called. "hello my darlings, it is i, Penelope Garcia, coming to you with a very, very sad news flash. i found some proof of unfaithfulness from all of our victims. It appears Sean was spending way too much time in his office, off the clock. He's work sheet says he finished work by 5pm, but his phone pings at home around 9pm, and before that it pings at many different sketchy motels. not once, not twice, but on a weekly basis. James was also being a bad, very bad boy - his pictures are on many different dating websites, and you may think 'well, it could be someone who is using his photos' but no, the some of the photoes on there are very nasty and very not on any of his socials" Garcias word flow stops as she takes a breath to continue.

"And Fiona… well, she was a little tricky, but i found these very much not PG emails between her and a bad.boy.rm@gmail.com, she used her work email, which is very icky of her, but it sure did keep it a secret". "Garcia, how hard would it be for someone to find out about the cheatings?" Prentiss askes. "well, it took me about two hours, so i belive that someone with the avarage hacking skill could get this information in about three days" Garcia says, slight cockiness in her voice. "well, babygirl, this is very helpful information" Derek says, smiling at the phone, "thank you". "can't wait for my reward" Garcia says, and the call is finished.

"It's likely our unsub was cheated on by a woman, since it looked like he overkilled the female victim, and it is possible they were engaged when he found out, that's why he attacks couples who are planning a wedding. He feels the need to punish cheaters" Reid says, looking at his team. "well, that has to narrow down the unsub pool" Dave says. "well, about 12% of married women admit that they have cheated on their spouse, and 20% of engagments end up being broken off, and 50% of those are due to financial stress. This town has roughly 7,639 people-" Spencer starts calculating, trying to figure out exactly how big is the suspect pool. "Kid, please. let's just have Garcia look it up" Dave cuts him off. "it's about 20 potentiol unsubs" Spencer mumbled under his breath, but his teamates don't react. "maybe his mom or dad were also cheaters, that could be the stressor and his partner doing the same thing to him would make one hell of a trigger" Prentiss says.

"well, i think it's time for the profile" Hotch says.

…

JJ, Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss are standing infront of the cameras. "we belive this unsub is a white male in his 20s, he recently expirienced a heartbreak over a cheating partner, possibly a fiance" Hotch says. "He has a high level technical knowlage, as it appears he took a deep dive into the victims life, finding out intimate details about their sex lives" JJ says, trying to not say the straight up truth of the cheatings he uncovered. "tho he has no prior medical skills, he appears to be learning how to perform his ritual with more accuracy" Prentiss says, "therefor we belive he is smart and possibly works at something that requires a similar set of skills as a surgen". "this unsub is sending the victims fiances the hearts he carved out, which shows signs of pshcopathic tendecies. this guy is probably cold, manipulative, and yet has a charm to him not many people see through" Dave continues. "we belive he may have had a parent who cheated on their spouse, making the cheating he expirienced triggering" JJ says. "if you know anyone who can fit this description, we encourege you to talk to us" Hotch says, and the cameras cut.

…

"Garcia and i just talked, she says there is one employee who was in all wedding venues the same day as our victims, but she dosen't fit the profile. happily married, 2 kids, grew up in a loving family" Derek says as he joins his team in the office, highlighting the word "she". "well, maybe the unsub wasn't on the clock, they could have some employees that get paid under the table" Prentiss says. "we profiled the unsub to be white, so it is less likely he is not listed" Reid says. "well, i guess we can't be sure, since he crosses race lines. the main reason we think he's white is because this town has so few pocs, and most of them arent able to afford the type pf education this unsub has" (y\n) says, spinning her chair as she thinks. A knock on the door makes the team look over. "they just found another body" officer Williams says. "let's go" JJ says, following the officer and the rest of the team follows her.