#Casper Reid

[guppygiggles]

Happy birthday, bigshot~ @xsunnysoftx

[nikki-tine]

Some quick fanart of @fluffyhare's guys cause yes C:

In all seriousness though lol I love these two, they melt my heart seeing 'em together and doing cute couple things!

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes: Episodes 486 and 487

Not strictly Smiffina episodes, however it does affect both and both have been shown to be very worried about it - and Gina is involved in how it comes out too.

Episode 486

It's June's last week and she's partnered with Roger to police the final evictions of the Aldbourne Estate that has been bought by a developer, Frank Butcher Brian Stevens. Yet again the trope happens - they get coffee and donuts... and a call arrives. During a council meeting, one of the final remaining tenants, Harris, handcuffs himself to a seat. When the police arrive and uncuff him, Harris assaults Stevens and all hell breaks loose. Stevens presents as a friendly open and above board man of the people who has been harassed by Harris and June gently manipulates the situation to make him not press charges so that Harris can go free.

June speaks to Harris and tells him that he can go free but he must accept that he's being evicted. Harris insists it's corrupt and thats why he's still fighting. Before the developer and councillor talked, the councils plan was to sell the flats to the tenants. Now a fake plan had been produced that says the idea had been to redevelop the estate and that that had been the plan all along. That's what has got Harris' back up and is why he refuses to leave his home of 40 years. He has no physical evidence himself but he does know of someone in Stevens' employ that is feeding him the information. June asks him to make a meeting with the man because she needs to see the details to take it further.

Heaton has rekindled his affair with Georgia, the DAC. His wife sends him a message telling him to get the rest of his things whilst she's out that night.

Harris' contact agrees to a meeting in the next hour. He backs up what Harris told June and shows her proof but insists he won't do anything official. June takes it to Gina and Heaton who agree that further investigation is warranted and advise June to speak to the council members and to do a financial check as well as an email trail between Davis - the council member who appears to have been bribed - and Stevens. June gets a telephone call before she can complete her checks - their informant from within Steven's company - has been assaulted. There's no CCTV and the only witness is an old man who saw someone in a balaclava running away. The victim claims it was just a mugging and Stevens turns up at the hospital to ask how he is.

John tells them it seems that - if they're willing to go this level - it could be that they already know about their investigation and are could be burning evidence - they'll have to be arrested. The councillor has a bank account over in Spain that he has been putting in 3000 euros in weekly for a few months until the total was the equivalent of £50K. It started a week after Stevens approached the council and it just so happens that they started days after Stevens removed £50K from his own bank account! The Super is going to interview Davis with June and wants Gina to take Stevens.

Davis claims there's nothing to tell and their relationship is simply business after he bought a flat from his company. It's simply a coincidence, according to him, that he was on the planning committee. He claims however that there's nothing untoward.

Steven's isn't so cool under Gina's questioning, claiming that he can't remember what his emails are relating to. There's allegedly nothing dodgy behind the 10K donation to a day center that one of the other councillors daughter attends, it's simply a repayment of a favour for getting him a table at her husbands exclusive table. He claims the 50K that he removed in cash last May was simply to pay for things as a builder/developer as cash is handier than cheques and the like.

Davis reckons the 50K is money that he's saved up over the last 30 years in a box in the house and that his wife told him to start paying it into an account as they're about to buy a Spanish property.

Finally Roger finds a date in the two mens diaries that match up to show they attended lunch at the same restaurant at the same time 2 weeks before Stevens approached the council and they'll be able to get the CCTV for it, CCTV that shows that they are sitting together at the same table. As an aside, it's called Enstone's Bar. (The dodgy finance company involved in the Larson cover up was also called Enstone Finance...)

June is acting a little suspicious however... she's noticed a familiar name amongst Stevens' files... Georgia Hicks - the DAC. She tells Rod she's on to something and can't chat after collecting the CCTV - however her car is run off the road and the CCTV tape stolen before she can return to Sun Hill. She's physically fine and manages to stumble out of the car and contact Sun Hill

Georgia goes to speak to John as she's had Councillor Davis ringing her about being arrested, claiming that there was no evidence about it and that if he's going to arrest council officials then he should approach her first. She also tells him that they're going to find out the next morning which station is to close - Barton St or Sun Hill. She insists she has no idea which way it will go. Then she invites John to come and stay with her rather than in a hotel.

Gina and June catch up back at the station where June shows Gina the emails she's found between Stevens and Georgia that detail that a development plan is being prepared for his company to purchase Sun Hill and redevelop the land that the station is on and that Georgia had agreed and told him that they will be able to offer the land.

The women take the proof upstairs to the Superintendent, however he's already left the office. Outside however, June spots him with Georgia - kissing her before getting in the same car.

Episode 487

It's the day of the final evictions and Heaton is on the ground and tells Harris that they have not found hard evidence of corruption. He then has to return for a meeting with the DAC. Diane and Roger find a young man with a petrol can who claims he's the registered owner and he's simply filling it up.

June confesses what she saw last night between the Superintendent and the DAC. She worries that he might be helping Georgia with Stevens' plan and they leave the office, only to find him stood with Georgia. John asks if they know who ran her off the road yet and she says Mickey is working the case. Georgia noticeably hesitates at the bottom of the stairs, listening in.

John asks for the answer about the police station closure and she bulls him up saying that it's too late for an appeal and that she'll find him another station when they merge. He says he won't roll over and let them do it and she says the plans have already been approved.

June has been digging and she finds that Georgia doesn't just own one of the flats that Stevens has been building - but it's a Docklands penthouse. Gina sighs and says they need to take it up to John and get the DPS involved. John locks away the file of June's evidence and tells them he doesn't want it to get out and that Mickey will continue the investigation but he mustn't be told about the DAC. He insists he'll continue the investigation into the DAC and Brian Stevens. June is fuming, insisting he's going to cover it up. Gina tells her that any Super would have to play it carefully and they have to give him a chance. June refuses - she's not going to let him bring down Sun Hill.

On the estate, Reg mutters the immortal line: "I can't imagine anything is going to happen!" right as a car explodes into flames! It's the same car Diane and Roger saw earlier being filled. Diane arrests the boy and Harris is arrested at the same time, telling Roger he tried to stop him.The young boy fakes a fit and Diane gets taken hostage inside the van whilst the outside of it is attacked by the remaining residents. Thankfully it doesn't escalate that far but it does mean that the evictions are further delayed. Harris apologises to the officers for what happened with Diane getting taken hostage - he was approached by the young lad who said he could help, but he had no idea that he'd go so far or act so dangerously. The other residents feel the same, Harris says and that the lad is now on his own - with his little posse of hooligans as the real residents are now too frightened to leave their flats. Harris has to accept that it's over and that he'll lose his flat as he's arrested again. Nikki tells him it's ok, she'll ensure one of her officers keep a close eye on the bailiffs and makes sure nothing gets broken.

Brian insists his son was with him at the snooker hall at the time of June's accident when it's claimed his son's car was used to run her panda car off the road. Mickey, unaware of the background information, is frustrated by June's attempt to press him to do things he doesn't think the evidence backs up. He also even says: "If it was me June, I'd be at home with me feet up." No you wouldn't Mickey! You'd be even worse than June at having to investigate it yourself and get in everyone else's faces! Thankfully a little while later, Mickey finds some CCTV that proves that it was a lie. June is about to let Mickey into what's been going on with Georgia , Heaton and the station but Heaton appears in Custody and she gets distracted, simply following Mickey to interview Stevens.

Stevens insists he's not going to answer their questions when shown the CCTV proof. June slips up by saying the DAC can't save him there and he plays the innocent. She tells him she's seen the emails but Mickey ends the interview to talk to June, asking what she's talking about. Mickey bitches her out about keeping information from him. She has to let it all out but Mickey insists she's acting nuts and it's nothing important. Really Mickey... remember your digging into Chandler with Jack? It's not that dissimilar! She tells him the DAC is corrupt. Mickey: "So you're saying the Superintendent is bent too?" He scoffs, telling her he doesn't want her on the investigation anymore. Funny how he's so quick to forget all the hunches he's had when the evidence is pointing another way - and the Chandler et al stuff... and the Delaney stuff... and all the others! He tells her to take it up with the Superintendent - and then goes to speak to him himself, telling him what has happened!

John's only response is 'is it on tape? Did Sgt Ackland name the DAC on tape?" Mickey says yes - then John says he wants the tape and the files and that he's removing Mickey from the job... surely that should ring some jingle bells, Mickey?

Mickey snaps that he's been removed off the case by the Super to June and hands everything over to him in front of her. "What are you doing?!" June asks incredulously, forced into an office by Heaton who gives her a dressing down about bringing up the DAC and bringing Stevens' in. "I don't think you're in any position to threaten me, Sir." June glares. "I saw you with the DAC last night, you're protecting her!""Be careful what you say." Heaton growls back. "You may regret it."

On the estate, the sun has now set and the relief are facing attacks on the stairwell by the hooligans from earlier. It's wrong to laugh but in the riot suits with their shields the men could literally make two of poor Diane.

Georgia and John meet at the side of the river to talk. He asks her how he knows Stevens' and she says she doesn't other than his case. He lets on that he now knows about her flat and why she's being named in an email by a councillor about the sale of Sun Hill. He's been doing some research - it appears that she also owns a place in Spain sold by Stevens too. He tries to tell her he'll deal with it if she tells him everything. She admits she had a fling with him when she was newly qualified. He sold her both places at a special rate and falsified financial figures to get them. She admits telling him a year ago that Sun Hill might be merging with Barton St and he threatened he'd go to the press about her if she didn't get him the plot secured. She also admits changing the report about Sun Hill and also that councillors were bribed to get him the estate. Her only upset is that John was hurt and she asks him to help her.

Steven's growls at Nikki for not letting his men start work and she snaps back that it's a crime scene and noone gets anywhere without his say so. Heaton appears and Steven's smirks thinking he's about to get his own way... only for Heaton to arrest him. He thinks he's about to go once they're at the station and he's about to be booked in when John says there's been a new development. The smile is wiped off his face when Heaton tells him that his son has just admitted to driving June off the road.

John goes to address the relief at the end of the day, telling them he wants to confirm a rumour. Sun Hill is not going to close. June still worries they're going to bury the DAC's involvement in the corruption. She marches into John's office and insists she'll call the DPS herself if she has to. John tries to stop her, Georgia tries to get her thrown out the room.... and the DPS arrive to arrest Georgia. Heaton had already called them and he hands over a recording of their conversation to them.

[accustiv]

@vanishinq sent: ❛  distraction .   to  rile  my  muse  up  during  a  film- accepting

i knew that we weren’t going to make it to the end of the movie the second casper shifted positions.

we had gotten into the habit of spending tuesday nights together, in my apartment. it had started when cas had needed somewhere quiet to recover from a weekend of being alex, and it had grown from there into a habit - just us, no work, no aliases. i wasn’t even sure what we were watching, it was some random movie on a random channel that i’d stopped on, and if i was being completely honest i had barely been paying attention to it anyway, but i had thought that cas had fallen asleep, his head rested on my shoulder, body curled against mine on the couch, and i had been so focused on not fidgeting, so as not to disturb him, that i hadn’t seen his eyes open, and flick towards my face.

i noticed his hand move, though.

it started innocently enough, moving his arm so that his hand stopped resting on the cushion between us, and rested, ever so lightly on my knee. i took a breath, and glanced at him, seeing that familiar glint in his eye, underneath his oh-so-innocent expression. “ i thought you were sleeping. ”       i murmured, and fixed my eyes on the television once more as cas shrugged, his lips curving into a dangerously sharp smirk. i swallowed, and managed to last three whole seconds before my gaze flicked back to the hand that was trailing devilishly slowly along my leg.

which was the exact moment i knew i was never going to see how the movie ended.

casper moved next to me, turning to give himself a little more dexterity; the shift also had the added effect of bringing his lips closer to my ear, and i swallowed again, flush already teasing my cheeks pink as i remained as still as possible. i blinked at the screen, blood already rushing south as his fingers danced along my inner thigh,        “ cas - ”       i whispered, but i had nothing to follow it up with, i didn’t want him to stop, if anything, i wanted him to hurry up and stop teasing me – but there was little chance of that as his lips gazed the side of my neck and i felt a shiver travel down my thigh.

it was my own fault, really, that i never found out what happened in that film - because that shiver triggered something in casper that i should have seen coming. within minutes my eyes were squeezed closed, head thrown back as i tried, so desperately, not to give in to him completely - it was always more fun when i could actually bite back, but he’d caught me unaware, and that gave him a huge advantage. the worst of it was, despite the whispers that he was carefully streaming into my ear, his hand never quite lingered long enough to give me the kind of relief i wanted so badly. he would brush against me enough that i thought he would finally do something, and then his fingers would skitter to my thigh, or my lower belly, or anywhere that wasn’t what i really wanted him to focus on. i knew what he wanted, he wanted me to give in to him and beg – we both knew i would get there, eventually, i always did; but for some reason, his playful taunts sparked a defiance in me, and i took a deep breath, fixing my gaze on the screen once more, although my vision was blurring at the edges with how hard i was concentrating, and my breath was ragged and uneven.

“ you know, i think this won a golden gl- ”       he cut me off expertly by finally stroking what was, at that point, an aching erection, ripping the words right out of my mouth as my eyes squeezed shut once more. “ what’s wrong, baby? ”   however innocent his voice was, his actions were far from it.     “ you wanna ask me something? ”      once again, his hand drifted away, but this time i couldn’t bear it. i could feel his grin against my neck when i finally lost enough control to whine as his touch left me trembling. i gave in. it had taken him perhaps ten minutes to completely unravel me – i considered that my personal best. “ please casper - ”        i whispered, turning towards him and attempting to catch his lips with mine, he pulled back just enough to stay out of reach, one eyebrow raised, and i wanted to scream.       “ please can you touch me? ”        his smirk was torturous and heated as he leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive spot just under my ear.

“ but babe, ”        my eyes shot open, his fingers digging into my thigh,        “ i am touching you. ”

[accustiv-archived]

♡ 👉🏻👈🏻

send ♡ if ur muse has crush on beau

that's sooooo cute they should date so that they can realise they're soulmates trapped in a doomed cycle of consuming love and heartwrenching betrayal until one of them can't take it anymore 🥰🥰🥰

beau has a crush on cas too

[audaciiaearchive]

me thinking that kit could benefit from a normal relationship vs me knowing they could never have a normal relationship JFKDKSKA

[guppygiggles]

God, I love a tickle fight. 💙

[nikki-tine]

A comm for @fluffyhare (again?! Man you're a blessing ;//; I feel like I can't thank you and other returning commissioners enough) from recently!

(Sorry I haven't been posting here recently y'all, I've been a little low on energy,,)

[guppygiggles]

When I say I am speechless... 😭😭😭💙💙💙

The fact that you made such a detailed and beautiful comic with my characters is just...

OUGH!!!! 😭💙😭💙😭💙

I just adore Bug already, they are so fun and sweet, I cannot WAIT to make a response to this when art fight is over!!! I'm so unbelievably touched by this... And you're thanking ME?! 😭😭😭 Thank YOU for this absolutely gorgeous art!!!! 😭💙😭💙😭

How Casper and Bug met ✨

@fluffyhare thank you for letting me do this fun comic with our characters it was a blast to make❤️

[womenloverlmao]

13 Days of Halloween - Day 3

Misconceptions - Spencer Reid X Horror Fan! Reader

Warnings: talk of horror movie shit…like being stabbed

Spencer never really understood your fascination with horror movies, but in all honesty, he knew that it was something that he never could understand. Whenever he watched them, it was for perspective into what certain unsubs would watch and base things off of–which happened in a case or two every now and then–or when he was trying to do something with you. He didn’t particularly enjoy them, but he wasn’t scared of them. He would simply sit through them and let what happened happen.

It was a couple of weeks before Halloween, which was one of the most important times of the year for you and your boyfriend. He loved it for the aesthetic, the history, the culture, and the genuine silliness of all of it. He liked the sweet Halloweens, the one you see on movie screens. You liked it for the horror aesthetic, not the spooky silly sweet one your boyfriend found solace in. Even so, he let you turn on some of your movies after he had gotten back from an easy case. He definitely would have preferred Casper, or It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, but a happy lover means you don’t get smothered by a pillow in the middle of the night.

“You know that wouldn’t actually kill someone,” he notes when someone gets stabbed in a certain place. “Sure, it wouldn’t exactly be pleasant and if left there long enough you would most certainly bleed out, but the knife itself wouldn’t do that much damage.”

“Wait but I thought that that would have pierced your-“

“Possibly, but when you look right at where he was being stabbed it really wouldn’t kill him. The abdomen is actually a really hard place to die from if stabbed there.”

He continued to ramble on about little things that were wrong in the movies you watched, and you had a couple of conversations that led you to knowing where to stab people if you want or don’t want to kill someone. It certainly was an eventful night, and Spencer came to be a little weirded out but also thankful that you found something that you could both talk about and understand.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Risky Business: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: The repercussions of being in prison finally take a toll on you. You're yelling at everyone, short and curt, and you're in a constant state of wanting to cry. Will this bitter cycle ever end?

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

Season Five Masterlist

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

x

Spencer and Derek went to check out Ryan Krouse's house to get a feel of who he was before he died. He was the one who died in the hospital after being treated. Like with Trish, there were no secret hiding places or drug paraphernalia. There are pictures of Ryan and his girlfriend, Shaunna in his room that give off a look of happiness. According to his parents, Ryan never dated Trish or even knew of her. The only time they met was at the hospital.

Ryan got good grades and he got a recommendation letter from the football coach to play varsity next year. Derek wanted to take his laptop for evidence but Ryan didn't have one. His father didn't want him to be online without supervision, so Derek will settle for the network IP address instead. Penelope can get into it from where she is.

You get back to the station and meet up with everyone else. You hand Trish's laptop to Penelope who immediately goes through it. You stand off to the side and watch as everyone engages in the case. You'll help if needed but you don't have the energy to be as involved as they are. You're so lucky to have someone like Hotch. Anyone else would have suspended you.

"Hey, you ready to delve into Trish's online world?"

"If by ready you mean extremely capable and even more reluctant, then yes." she hacks into the computer. "That's weird. There's nothing here."

"Nothing useful?"

"Nothing at all. There's no root directory or operating system. The registry appears to be blank."

"Why would she have an empty computer set up?"

"I did not say empty, I said appears to be blank. I'm gonna need a little while." She does something different and immediately unlocks what is hidden. "I got it! It was just a basic Trojan Horse. It just hid the directories and didn't erase them. Oh, God."

"What is it?"

You look up and see Derek and Spencer walk into the police station. Penelope pulls up a website that she frequented a lot.

"She was on a choking game site the night she died. It looks like it's a game kids play where they choke themselves to get a buzz, to get high."

"They call it the good kids' high," Spencer says. "You get lightheaded and a sense of euphoria even though no actual drugs are involved. It's something kids in high school play."

"Did Ryan have a computer?"

"Not in his room."

"What about a gaming system?" Pen asks and Derek nods. "Teenagers will find a way to get online."

"I have the IP address."

Penelope uses it to get into the system where she finds the exact same website Trish went to.

"Bingo. Ryan was on the same site on the same night. I don't think it's suicide." She continues to type. "Hang on, this is a text-to-voice icon. Let's see what happens."

She clicks on it and a computer-animated voice starts to speak.

"Come on, try it. We all do it. I dare you."

"I dare you? Someone was orchestrating this, purposely getting the kids to choke themselves."

"Make sure you close the door. Tomorrow's the big night. We're all gonna play the game."

"There's a whole subculture around this game. They make up names for it and do it at parties. Someone is daring these kids in this area to play the game," Penelope says and looks into the website more. "It's a contest, and there are rules. 'Come on, Evans High, this is the big one. Garfield edged out Casper High last week. You gonna let them diss us?'"

"Diss? That sounds like a kid. Who else would pit schools against each other?"

"Reckless teenage competition," Rossi scoffs.

"The school that logs the most high times this Friday wins. Get your friends on board. Practice makes the high last longer. Gotta do it alone, video it with your webcam, and upload it to the site for it to count," Penelope reads.

"Friday? That's tomorrow."

"Doing it alone requires ligatures. He's basically encouraging them to play the deadliest form of the game with no one there to revive them."

"Garcia, shut this site down," Hotch says.

"Sir, I can totally do that but I don't think you want me to."

"Why?"

"Right now this site is our only way to track the unsub. If I cut into it, he'll know we're watching him, in which case he'll shut it down. He'll write a simple change in code and bring it back up in a more covert fashion. Plus, there's no telling how many servers it's replicated on, anyway."

"You're right," he sighs. "We're ready to give the profile."

You've been writing in your notebook just like your therapist has suggested but nothing is happening. Maybe your own fear is clinging to theirs. Maybe your fear doesn't want to be alone so it brings you down with it. How can you possibly hope to overcome this if you can't even get away from your fear?

"We believe the unsub responsible for these deaths may be a teenager," Derek begins the profile. "He's a loner and doesn't participate in team sports or group activities. He's withdrawn with very low self-esteem."

"His only form of pure interaction is online. He engages in activities that draw attention to himself yet isolate him from his peers. Parents and teachers should watch out for the warning signs--bloodshot eyes, marks on their necks, severe headaches, and disorientation."

"In real life, he considers himself a loser. In cyberspace, he can pull strings. It makes him feel powerful."

"Does this kid know that other kids are dying because of him?" an officer asks.

"Could be. He's choking himself and daring others to do it, so we're most likely looking at reckless homicides here."

"If you see anything that's unusual or suspicious, just call the sheriff's department and we will try to direct you as best we can. Thank you," JJ finishes.

The police will appeal to the public but you, Derek, and Spencer are going to a school to appeal to the kids. Hotch and Emily are at another school, and Rossi and a few officers are at another. The classroom you're in has students who look like they want to be anywhere but here. They aren't paying attention, and some of them are even on their phones and giggling.

"Two different mechanisms--strangulation and hyperventilation--create the same effect: oxygen deprivation in the brain."

A phone beeps and a student tries to hold his laughter.

"Hey, kid. Not a good idea. Let me see it." Derek snatches the phone from the kid and reads his text out loud. "What planet is this dude from? He doesn't want us to win the contest."

"I think the accurate statement would be, 'he doesn't want us to participate in the contest at all.'" He walks to the empty desk in the room and points to it. "This was Ryan's desk, right? This is where Ryan sat? You guys remember Ryan, right? He played football and took Shaunna to Prom. I'm assuming that some of you were probably even friends with Ryan.

"He wanted to win the contest, too, but the way Ryan choked himself, he cut off all the oxygen to his brain. That sent a distress signal to his heart, slowing it down. Then his brain, in an effort to preserve itself, shut off all non-essential bodily functions. His arms gave out. His legs gave out. That means he couldn't loosen the tie around his neck, at which point panic set in.

"In Ryan's case, it escalated to cardiac arrest, which means that his heart stopped. Brain damage began, and within four minutes, he was completely and totally brain-dead. He died scared and probably in a lot of pain, unable to stop what he thought he had complete control of. All because he wanted to participate in what I consider to be a pretty lame game. So, I mean, your text is actually completely accurate. I don't want you to win the contest because I don't want you to play the game."

Every single student is looking at Spencer in silence but they aren't connecting to what he's saying. He gave them technical talk they're not interested in so you have to step it up. You shouldn't be talking to these kids in your condition but you think they need someone like you to make this real for them.

"This isn't a game. This your life," you snap. "Do you want to grow up? Get out of this school? Make a life for yourself? See the world and enjoy it? Well, you won't because you'll be dead due to a dumbass decision you made."

"Okay, that's enough," Derek says.

"No, they're not listening! They're teenagers. They think they're right. They think they can do whatever they want and bad things won't happen to them. They'll play this game because they want to be cool." You turn to the students. "Do you want to know what's cool? Graduating. Getting a job you love. Making money. Starting a family. Guess what? You won't be able to do that because you will kill yourselves, and everything you've worked for will be for nothing. You will be gone and eventually forgotten."

That seems to instill fear in some of them. There are a few that don't care what you're saying but you're not sure what else you can say to get them to realize the gravity of the situation.

"You all believe this shit?" a young goth boy in the back speaks up.

"You don't? Why don't you come up here and tell us what you think?"

"Whatever."

The boy gets up and looks like he is going to go up and talk when he takes off running out of the classroom like a guilty man.

"Hey! Hey! Come here!"

Derek immediately chases off after him followed by Spencer. You stay in the classroom and look at everyone there.

"Listen, I'm not your parent. I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you what your life will look like if you decide to play this game. You might be fine afterward or you might be dead, but the second that you are born, you start to affect everyone around you. What if your best friend played and then died? How would you feel? How do you think they'd feel if you died? Your parents? Siblings?

"You get one life. If you make one mistake, that's it. There are no do-overs. Do you really want to be the person who died too young? Who died because of a game? Games are supposed to be fun, not deadly. You're old enough to know what death is but young enough to not have to be around it. Just something to think about the next time you wrap something around your neck."

If that doesn't get to them, you don't know what will. You leave the classroom and finally join Derek and Spencer's side who has the young goth kid pinned to the ground. Well, Derek does.

"Stop fighting. Stop it!"

"Let me go!"

They wait until he is calm to talk to him.

"Why did you run?"

"Morgan, look at his neck," Spencer says.

Derek reaches for the choker the kid has on but he freaks and struggles against him.

"Don't touch that!"

"Hey, what did I say? Relax."

The kid must realize he can't do anything against Morgan so he has no choice but to let him pull down his choker. There are ligature marks around his neck varying in different colors. 

"Different colors mean different stages of healing," you say.

"You've been doing this to yourself for a long time, haven't you? There's no telling how much his brain has suffered," Dean sighs.

Derek has no choice but to take the kid to the hospital to get checked out. Rhonda is the only one who meets you there since the rest of the team is still at the other schools.

"Dr. Reid," she says when you get there. "Do you think it's him?"

"He's a pretty likely candidate."

A man walks in and you are floored by the energy you feel. It's not a good one. There's something evil about him. You don't like him at all.

"Hi, I'm Wilson Summers. The school called and said my son was injured," he says to a nurse.

"Will," Rhonda says and waves him over.

"Do you know him?" you ask.

"Professionally. He works for the fire department."

"You don't say."

"Sheriff, hi.

You cross your arms and watch him with a careful eye.

"Is my son all right, doctor?" he asks Spencer.

"I'm not that type of doctor. We're with the FBI."

"FBI?"

You sense panic in his body language but he tries to play it off.

"Your son, Christopher, has been choking himself," you put bluntly. "Did you know the kids that have died recently?"

"You're talking about the suicides?"

"They're not suicides. It's a game that kids his age tend to play where they force themselves to pass out for the buzz that it gives them. Do you know anything about that?" He narrows his eyes at you, not liking what you're implying. "How long has Christopher been dressing in the gothic fashion?"

"A while. He's been having a rough time."

"Why's that?"

"His mother died a few years ago, and he's been wearing black ever since."

"Does Christopher spend a lot of time on the computer?" Rhonda asks.

"Just about every waking hour. Why?"

"We think your son may have created a website encouraging kids to compete in this choking contest. Let me ask you again, do you know something about that?" you ask.

"I don't like what you're implying, Agent."

"I'm not implying anything."

"Dad."

Christopher is wheeled in on a wheelchair with Derek by his side.

"Hey, buddy."

"Take him inside," Derek says to the doctor. "Your son needs to go in for some tests."

"Will, when he's done, we're gonna need to talk to him down in my office."

x

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[areleine]

came to come, left in cry. wtf.

A Study in Anchored Souls

Pairing: ghost!Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: In which the ghost of Spencer Reid discovers that in order to unveil his unfinished business and finally lay at rest, he must somehow enlist the help of the woman who now inhabits his apartment. Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, mention of weed, ghost shenanigans (?), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, Spencer is invisible for all of that LMAO Word Count: 11.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: God, I love ghost smut. That was a goddamn blast to write! Like you don't even know how giddy it made me putting these words to the keys. I even put in extra effort and made a little photo banner, which I’ve never done for a one shot before, and I’m kinda obsessed with it ngl 😂 I hope you love this one as much as I do! <3 Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air writing challenge!

———

ACT I: Girls' Night

Spencer Reid always knew he would die.

It was a cold, hard fact of life that at one point, everyone would die. It was unsure when or how, but it happened. There was no escaping it. That thought alone was enough to squander most of his anxieties about death— even after a few near-death experiences and the constant danger his line of work tended to throw at him throughout his lifetime.

Still, the one thing he couldn't stand to think about was the "after". He wanted truly to believe that what happened after death was just nothingness, but after his encounter with Tobias, it stirred up all sorts of questions and unexplainable possibilities that were just too vast for even his brain to try and comprehend.

Then, of course, there was the fact that he was currently standing in his old apartment, watching somebody else live her life, completely invisible to her. He tried talking to her, too, but nothing. It was like he wasn't even there.

But why? It's not like he had unfinished business or anything. The unsub who shot him was shot down immediately afterwards. He watched him die before passing out himself. Why was he "awake" now, nearly 5 months after the fact, and not when his friends were grieving him? Where were his friends, and why has the afterlife chosen to tie Spencer to a place rather than the people that knew and loved him?

Logically it seemed reasonable but really, he just missed his friends. He missed his life.

He hated the afterlife, he decided then. There was no reason he needed to keep doing this when he couldn't even leave the confines of the apartment. He couldn't walk through walls or touch anything or sit down on the woman's gross floral couch. If he wanted to enter another room, the door needed to be opened, otherwise he was stuck right there in the living room, the kitchen, and the open dining space that connected the two. If he was allowed to live his afterlife with his mom, or playing Chess with Gideon, or travelling the world, free to go anywhere and see anything without hardship, it might have been different.

But no. He was stuck watching this woman struggle to move furniture by herself.

He didn't know her. Had never seen her before. She wasn't a student of his or a victim he'd saved or even a fling. She was a complete stranger. A complete stranger who unfortunately had terrible taste in decor and an even more unfortunately beautiful face.

Her name was Y/N. From what he could gather, she didn't have any family, at least not nearby. Her two best friends were the only other people in her circle that he'd seen in the apartment, and when they were all together it was... interesting. There was a lot of loud laughter and wine, and oh God, the sex talk...

It felt intrusive, but he couldn't leave. He could migrate to another room, maybe, but his ears still worked, even a little too well. His eyes, too, seemed to be as sharp as ever, any imperfections to his vision completely mended. He was simply over aware of everything, and yet hollow at the same time, and he hated everything about it.

But what could he do? He couldn't even touch anything or communicate to anyone, so how could he possibly figure out what was keeping him here and how he could get out of it? Did his new roommate hold some sort of knowledge or ability to help him solve this mystery, or was he destined to watch her live out her life in this place that he once called "home"? Was there any connection between them at all?

He didn't know.

Usually he liked puzzles, but this one was rather annoying.

He just wanted to rest.

Y/N had been moved in for just over a month (yes, there was a whole month of just standing there learning everything about a stranger because there was simply nothing else for Spencer to do) when finally, there was a small glimmer of hope.

Heavy on the small.

It was Girls' Night. Friday. It always consisted of too much wine and movies and snacks and discussions about whatever they were reading or watching. Despite the differences in the routine, the camaraderie made Spencer miss his friends. He wondered what they were all up to. Maybe, if this all worked out, he could actually find out.

But for now, he had to focus on the baby steps.

When the girls showed up with a Ouija board, he couldn't help the incredulous laughter that escaped him.

Y/N, it seemed, felt the same disbelief. "You guys, what the fuck is that?"

"What does it look like?" the first friend, Maya, retorted.

The other, Robin, added, "You were the one that said you felt like you weren't tooootally aloooone in this apartment..."

Her haunting inflection elicited a backhanded thump to the arm, Y/N groaning as she closed the door behind her. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I would want to know what or who it is! Besides, I'm probably just paranoid. It's just being in a new place and the anxieties that come with it, that's all. You guys are insane."

"Only one way to find out!"

Was Spencer really going to entertain this? A goddamn Ouija board? He enjoyed his fair share of spooky things and researching superstitions, but that was out of his realm of belief. On the other hand, one could technically consider him a ghost... He could look down and see himself, but nobody else could see or hear him... Y/N had obviously voiced a concern for feeling a presence to her friends, but how much of that feeling was accurate and how much of it was, in fact, 'new home anxieties'?

As the girls unboxed the board and set up their things, Spencer sighed, mumbling to himself, "Only one way to find out..."

Maya closed the curtains and turned all the lights off, meanwhile Y/N and Robin were collecting and lighting any candle they could find. They cleared off the low coffee table in front of the couch where the girls sat and set everything up there, Spencer taking a seat on the floor opposite the group. It was then that Y/N said something that made him laugh.

"Wait, shouldn't we give the couch to the ghost?"

"What?"

"Well, what if it's an angry ghost? And then we make it sit on the floor, and it decides to exact vengeance on us? Maybe we should... I don't know, be more hospitable?"

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," Robin said, standing up. "Do you hear that, Ghost? We're only being nice to you, so please don't kill us, m'kay?"

Spencer sighed. Little did they know, he couldn't actually sit on the couch. Or a chair. Or anything that wasn't the floor. It was like the ground was the only physical thing he was anchored to. Still, the girls had no way of knowing that, so they shuffled their way to the other end of the table, flipping the Ouija board so it would face the other way. Spencer got up and moved then. He'd have to stand uncomfortably in the small gap between the table and the couch, bending down at the waist to use the board, provided he could even touch it.

He had no idea how this was going to work, if at all.

It was all starting to sound and feel absolutely ridiculous.

The girls each put a finger on the planchette, nervous laughter emanating from them, and Spencer gave one last deep breath before reaching out to touch it himself, anticipating the moment of truth.

His hand hovered over the board, feeling a block just before he would make any contact. He couldn't touch it. His hand wouldn't even go through. He retreated and huffed, wondering if there was something he could do to communicate with them otherwise. He tried to blow out one of the candles, but with no luck. He could feel his breath against his own skin (could you even call it that at this stage?), but the objects in front of him were completely oblivious to his presence.

He was about to give up and call it a night, leaving the girls to have their fun, but then one of them gasped.

"Wait, don't we have to use two fingers? Is that how it works?"

"Shit, I think you're right."

They adjusted their positions and Spencer sighed, but indulged them just in case.

His hand lowered again, middle and pointer fingers approaching the planchette in anticipation. He half-expected there to be resistance again, but this time, a cool rush of wind gusted up in between them as his fingers made contact with the wood.

"Holy shit!" all four of them exclaimed in unison.

"Did you feel that?" Maya squealed excitedly. "Wicked..."

"No, not wicked!" Y/N whined. "We should stop!"

"Really? You know for sure now that there's a ghost living in your apartment, and you're just not going to ask it questions to make sure it's not harmful? Be smart about this, bitch," Robin countered playfully.

Spencer wanted to cut to the chase. He moved his hand, spelling out a word, and the girls collectively gasped before reciting each letter out loud hesitantly, like they couldn't believe what was happening.

"H-A-R-M-L-E-S-S"

"Oh my God! You have a Casper!"

Y/N shook her head furiously. "You guys, stop fucking with me, I mean it. This isn't funny."

"I didn't move it!" said Robin.

"Me either," said Maya. "Besides, you felt that wind right? How could either of us have done that?"

"I don't know, because you're a fucking wizard or something! Cut it out!"

"Hey, if you didn't want to do it that badly, you would have taken your hand off the planchette... Hey, Ghost, have you ever seen Y/N naked?"

"Robin!"

Maya cackled and Y/N went pale. If he wasn't already dead, Spencer would have probably gone pale as well.

The truth was, he had. Seen her naked, that is.

He wasn't proud of it. It happened by total accident. Sort of. He was following her around the apartment all day because he was bored, and he'd ended up locked in her bedroom with her. Either he was truly horrible at reading people (which seemed impossible considering his profession) or she had just gotten a random spurt of excitement, because the moment her door closed, she whipped her shirt off, exposing her bare torso to him, and he couldn't move. He was frozen, completely shocked at the sight before him. She reached down to take off her pants, and he turned around then, quickly becoming aware of the situation.

She rustled behind him and he tried desperately to walk through the door. Any time he got close, the barrier would stop him. He couldn't do anything but stand in the corner and pray to whatever that she was only changing.

She was, in fact, not changing.

Spencer swore in that moment at the table that he could still hear the low hum of her vibrator and every single sound that came from her body and mouth that night, and he was absolutely mortified.

He'd only dared to glance back when he heard the end, her breathing slow and the humming gone. It was silent for a while before he turned around entirely, only to find her asleep, sprawled completely bare over the covers. He wished he could have draped a blanket over her, but his hands were more or less tied.

Thankfully she was only asleep for about a half hour before she forced herself awake to clean up and actually go to bed.

Spencer never followed her around the apartment ever again. Just in case.

"Don't answer that, Ghost," Y/N rushed, "Robin's just fucking around. We promise to ask you serious questions from here on out."

Maya faked a snore. "Come on, Y/N, this is supposed to be fun. The ghost is harmless."

"No, the ghost said it was harmless. Doesn't mean it is."

Spencer thought for a moment as the girls went back and forth, and then he spelled out another word— or an acronym, rather.

"It's moving again!" Robin gasped, spelling out the letters.

"F-B-I"

"Holy shit did you work for the FBI, Ghost?" Maya inquired.

Spencer moved the planchette to the "YES" at the top of the board.

"Maybe... Maybe we should stop calling them Ghost..." Y/N took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before nodding. "Ummm... Spirit Who Resides Here..." Robin and Maya snorted. "What is your name?"

Spencer wished he could tell her she didn't need to be formal, but it was amusing watching her do it anyway. He spelled out his name, first and last, and the girls made a collective hum of acceptance. A normal name and not something concerning.

"We should Google him," Robin said matter-of-factly.

Maya hummed in agreement, but Y/N swallowed and asked another question. "Spencer, you're not... Going to hurt me, are you?"

He moved the planchette to "NO," and watched the relief take over her body, relaxing her muscles and her posture for just a brief moment. He could tell she was still wary, but it was a step in the right direction.

"See? Told you he was harmless."

"He still could be lying," Y/N mumbled. Then she sat up straight. "Not that I don't believe you, Spencer. I'm sorry. You just have to understand that I'm a woman living alone, and the thought of a man I can't see haunting my apartment is just... It's extremely terrifying."

He felt bad for her. As annoying as his situation was, he couldn't imagine being in hers. He almost wished he hadn't entertained the Ouija board at all and put her worries to rest, but since it was too late, all he could do was try and reassure her that he wasn't a threat.

His fingers moved again.

"U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D"

And then a pause, before: "S-O-R-R-Y"

Y/N's eyes dropped, and her friends made a collective "Awwwww," before a knock sounded at the door, jolting them all to move away from the Ouija board.

Spencer was knocked backwards, and he expected his newfound sense of touch to disappear once the connection had broken, but to his surprise, he found himself safely seated on the couch. His hands reached over the fabric, testing, and despite his distaste for the floral pattern on it, the cushions were suddenly the greatest thing he'd ever touched. He was grateful for this couch. And for the Ouija board, and for Y/N and her eccentric friends.

Speaking of which, Robin yelled out, "Pizza's here!" and got up with Maya to abandon the board. Pizza apparently seemed more interesting than a ghost, but for two women who Spencer could now tell (no thanks to his upgraded sense of smell) were a little high, that seemed reasonable.

As her friends happily greeted the pizza delivery man, Y/N reached out to touch the planchette again, just for a moment, and gently whispered, "Thank you, Spencer."

He returned it with an earnest, "You're welcome," but he wasn't sure if she'd hear or not. She looked around the area for a few seconds before turning around, and it wasn't clear whether she had.

But she seemed relaxed now, and that was a start.

As the girls sat at the dining table and ate pizza, Spencer tested out his new senses just a few steps away. He found himself thankful to be in a familiar place, even if the decor was different. The walls were the same and the bookshelves still stood, now filled with bright Romance novels and trinkets and photos that laid out Y/N's personality quite perfectly. He smiled, running his fingers along the spines of the books, missing the feeling even if they weren't his own.

He wanted to see if he could read one, just for the sake of feeling a book in his hands again, but he figured he'd wait until Maya and Robin were gone and Y/N was asleep.

Until then, he continued to touch things without making them move, not wanting to raise anyone's eyebrows.

And then, a gasp sounded from the dining table.

"I found him! I have his obituary right here!"

"Holy shit, let me see!"

Spencer made his way to the table to observe.

The girls passed around Maya's phone, looking at his obituary photo. Robin made a low whistle, then called out into the air on her left. He was standing to her right, unable to help the dry laughter that escaped him at the irony of the situation.

"Spencer, you were hot!"

Maya shook her head and sighed. "Yeah. What a damn shame. Sorry, man."

Robin seemed more amused than anything, turning to Y/N, who was reading through the obituary. "Hey, at least you can rest easy knowing you've got a hot FBI ghost watching over you."

"Yeah, but... Why? Do you think he lived here? In this apartment?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask him."

Y/N sighed, handing Maya her phone back. "I'm sure he has more exciting ghost stuff to do on a Friday night than entertain us three. All I know is he promised not to hurt me, so I don't really care if he stays."

He was glad for her ease of anxiety, but he certainly cared if he stayed. However, she sounded exhausted, and it was fair. Finding out your new apartment was haunted by a ghost (even a harmless one) sounded like a reasonably stressful situation. He wanted desperately to figure out how to finally move on, but for now he could accept the simple fact that he could actually touch things now, and let Y/N rest easy.

Even if he couldn't yet.

ACT II: X's and Oh's

Every time she came home, Y/N would greet Spencer kindly. Probably out of precaution (you know, just in case he really was lying about being harmless), but brightly all the same.

"Spencer, I'm home! I... I don't know if you're haunting me or the apartment, but... I hope you had a good day, just in case it's me."

He smiled, wishing he could greet her back.

Eventually, he found small ways to do it.

He fogged up a spot on her bathroom mirror, that way the next time she showered before bed, the heat would reveal a message on the glass: "Good night. —S.R."

Y/N talked to him that night, dressed in her pajamas and walking around the apartment like she was deciding where to talk to him. Eventually she decided on standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Spencer? You said good night so you might not even be in here, but... I guess this is me saying good night back...Thanks for being a nice ghost, I really appreciate it. If... If there's anything I can do for you, let me know, okay? Okay... Goodnight."

If only there was a way she could hear him. Communicating in mirror-notes was hardly good for anything more than a simple "good night," and despite the fact that he could touch things, he couldn't grip them, so writing on paper was out. He'd kept trying to open a door with the handle, and with no luck. It was starting to get irritating, wondering what the next step was to evolving as a ghost.

He couldn't even believe he'd thought up the phrase. Ghost evolution sounded absolutely insane, but he supposed it was his current reality regardless of how it sounded...

Tonight Y/N was out rather late. For a brief moment Spencer started to worry, but then the key turned in the doorway and relief settled in when she finally stepped inside. She seemed rather tired, but greeted him with a gentle smile all the same.

"Hi, Spencer."

"Welcome home, Y/N."

She didn't hear him, obviously, but it still felt rude not to say it back. He wondered if he could try to touch her in greeting. Maybe a brief brushing of hands or a tap of acknowledgement on the shoulder. But he didn't want to scare her, so he'd have to figure that out.

Thankfully, she seemed to have felt his curiosity somehow.

Later that night, as she laid in bed, she called out, drawing his attention from the living room where he tried to open a cabinet. Still no luck there.

"Spencer? Are you there?"

He wandered over to the bedroom, glad to see she'd left the door cracked open so he could get in. He hesitated before moving, hoping she wouldn't freak out when she saw the door open.

When he did finally gather the courage to move the barrier and step inside, he heard her gasp as she sat up in bed.

"Spencer? Was that you? Um... Move the door again if it was..."

He obliged, swinging the door shut gently as he stepped inside the room. The second the door clicked, he realized his mistake.

Now he was trapped in here with her. Not that it was a bad thing necessarily, but the last time this happened, he'd accidentally intruded on a rather intimate moment. His essence warmed at the thought.

"Holy shit. Um... This is kind of weird... I've gotten your notes and talked to you through the Ouija board, but... seeing you move things in front of me is... only slightly terrifying."

Her nervous laughter endeared him but also made him want to comfort her.

He walked over to the side of the bed closest to her body, hoping she'd be willing to communicate more thoroughly somehow. The two of them together could surely come up with something.

Again, their brains seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"If I hold out my hand... Would you touch it? Just to... let me know that it's you?"

Her arm outstretched, and Spencer slowly brought his middle finger down to touch hers, ever so lightly.

The second there was contact, there was a shock. Spencer jolted and Y/N yelled and yanked her hand back, her whole body shuddering as she kicked her legs. "Oh my God, holy fuck!" And then she laughed, reaching out to search for his touch again. He felt... different somehow, but he was still invisible to her. Her fingers wiggled and Spencer helped her out, gently holding her hand to keep it steady, as if to convey, "I'm right here, and it's okay."

"Hi," she said through a smile, her breathing heavy. "It's... Nice to... finally meet you. Kind of. Kind of meet you, I mean... Not kind of nice. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his thumb gently over the top of hers in response.

"I'm still wrapping my head around this whole thing, I... I guess I just wanted some extra confirmation that you were really here. Can I ask you some questions, Spencer?"

He rubbed her thumb again, and she breathed out with a smile.

"Okay um... Maybe draw a circle on the back of my hand for yes and an X for no... That sound good?"

Spencer traced a circle against her skin, and she nodded. "Good! Okay, cool. This is cool. Um... Did you live here? In this apartment?"

A circle.

"Is... that why you're here now?"

An X, and then a question mark.

"No... You don't know why you're here then?"

A circle.

Y/N pondered for a moment. "Could there be something of yours that's holding you here? Something we have to find or a mystery we have to solve?"

Spencer drew another question mark, then sighed. As much as he liked Y/N, he was pretty sure she would not be able to answer any of those questions. But there had to be another way to... level up, so to speak. To make him visible or audible.

"I'm sorry," she said somberly. "From what I've read, you seem like you were a good person. I hope you figure it out, whatever it is. And... I meant it. If there's anything I can do to help you, I will."

He drew a circle on her skin, but kept going around a few times, his symbol of appreciation.

Y/N warmed at the sentiment, smiling and hanging her head to look down at the hand he was holding. He didn't know it, but her skin was tingling at his invisible touch.

"Spencer... I know this is probably going to be weird... But the night I first met you, when my friends were with me... Robin asked you if... you'd uh... If you'd seen me..."

She wouldn't look up, like she was afraid to look at him even though she still couldn't see him. She didn't finish her sentence, seeming to be embarrassed about the punchline, but Spencer didn't need it. He knew exactly what she meant. Before she had time to retreat or move on, he drew a slow circle on the back of her hand.

Her head lifted. "You did see me? Naked?"

Spencer let out a shaky breath. Hesitated. Then drew another circle, followed by S-O-R-R-Y.

"Oh, I'm not upset, I promise. You don't have to be sorry."

Something shifted in her eyes then and she paused, and Spencer realized that before when she'd asked, she wasn't embarrassed. She was simply feeling the water before diving in.

He swallowed hard.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her voice was soft, but simultaneously hard with mischief. He looked at her then— truly looked at her with his overly-perfect Afterlife vision, and even in the dim light emanating from the open curtains and the streetlights beyond it, he could see her clear as day. Rather than the big tee-shirt she always wore to bed, tonight she was wearing something lacy and lavender.

And her door was closed. He couldn't leave this room.

Although, he had a feeling right then that it didn't matter anymore. Because his hand tightened over hers instinctively and he felt himself get hard beneath the suit pants he'd been buried in.

That's new, he thought through a sigh of excitement, quickly recalling that night he'd seen her. And heard her. Feeling was growing in his joints, and he found himself flexing his hands with a new strength he hadn't felt since being alive.

"Fuck," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief.

I think she may be slowly bringing me back to life.

He drew a slow, sensual circle on the back of her hand, and she laughed through a grin. "I was hoping you'd say that. I was also hoping that maybe we could try something a little... unconventional. The truth is, I've always hated living alone. It's too lonely, and I hate it... Now that I have you to keep me company, though... It's not nearly as bad."

She shifted her fingers, grabbing his hand and slowly bringing it to her face. Spencer caressed her as he came closer, his knees now touching the edge of her mattress. She closed her eyes and reveled in his touch, goosebumps forming along her skin.

"Will you touch me, Spencer?"

His name falling suggestively from her lips was quite possibly the greatest thing he'd ever experienced, among life and death. The afterlife. Whatever. None of it mattered, nothing mattered right then except for Y/N and her needs.

He drew a circle on her cheek and she laughed, the sound dissolving into a rather wanton sigh when he traced his middle finger down her jaw and over her throat. Just the gentlest of touches, barely even a touch at all.

"You want this just as bad as I do, don't you?" she asked, lolling her head to the side as his finger traced her collarbone and then her shoulder.

"I do." He focused on the way her chest heaved, slowly up and down as she melted into his touch, and then traced the strap of her nightgown until he reached the front, just at the curve of her breasts.

Y/N arched her back and pulled the covers away from her body, revealing herself to him in full as she got comfortable. She scooted and leaned back against the headboard, pulling Spencer along the side of the bed. He gladly followed.

"I give you permission to touch me in any way you see fit, okay? I... I want you to do whatever feels good to you. How does that sound?"

At the invitation, he quickly let his mind wander to extremely filthy places and wondered if he had the ability to taste again...

The thought alone made him twitch beneath his pants, and suddenly there was no going back.

He let out a long breath and touched the bottom hem of her nightgown. It was already short to begin with, but since she'd moved around in bed and her feet were flat, knees pointed upward, the fabric rode up to the very tops of her thighs. He drew another continuous circle right there, just below where it ended, and Y/N instinctively started to spread her knees apart.

Spencer stopped her, gripping one knee and spelling out W-A-I-T before slipping his shoes and jacket off. She arched an eyebrow, confused at first, but then looked down to the floor when she heard his shoes being kicked back and his clothing falling there.

And then, when he was ready, she looked back to the bed in front of her as Spencer climbed and knelt, positioning himself in front of her. Her eyes watched the mattress move, and a flicker of excitement danced over her features, amusing him.

He placed his hands on her knees, and even though she'd given him permission, he asked anyway, drawing a question mark against her skin.

She nodded. "Please."

Slowly, his hands pulled her legs apart. He drew it out as long as he possibly could, curious to know how long he could test her anticipation threshold. He still planned to give her everything she wanted, of course, but there was something oddly erotic about being touched by somebody you couldn't see that she was obviously keen to explore. So he would take his time until she begged him otherwise.

Sure enough, her stare was laser-focused on her body as he moved it to his liking, her breath hitching once her legs were far enough apart for him to realize she wasn't wearing anything underneath her nightgown and he paused. Already she was glistening with arousal, a sight that nearly made Spencer go completely slack.

"How long have you wanted this..." he wondered aloud, overwhelmed and in awe as his hands traveled firmly down her inner thighs. She squirmed under his bold touch, and leaned her head back against the headboard with a soft thud.

"Please," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to grip whatever bunched up fabric she could find on the bed.

He had planned to test the waters a little longer, ever so the scientist at heart, but figured that was as good of a plea as any to give in and finally give her what she wanted.

And so, Spencer ran a gentle, steady hand down through her heat, dragging his middle finger along the seam until he barely entered her, then came back up.

The long, desperate moan that Y/N drew out was like Heaven to his ears, and he'd never been more grateful for his heightened senses than in that moment. Every breath she took, every gloriously wet sound her body made as he explored her, every rustle of her hands through the sheets... All of it was sharp and crisp, and no other symphony had ever sounded so beautiful.

He wanted more of it.

One finger became two, and Spencer looked up to watch her face as he fingered her slowly. Parted lips and focused eyes fighting to stay open despite the pleasure she was feeling made for quite the perfect view, he almost didn't want to look away. But there was so much to beauty see between her soft facial features and the curves of her body and the obvious arousing sight below him. It was overwhelming how hot he felt in that moment, he could have sworn he was glowing.

His pace quickened, and Y/N had finally given into the temptation to close her yes, her head falling back again as she rolled her hips. He was getting impatient now.

With his other hand, against the inside of her thigh, Spencer spelled out "T-A-S-T-E-?"

"Oh, God, please. Yes."

Still hesitant to scare her even though his fingers were already deep inside her, rather than diving in as he so desperately wanted to, he slowly brought his head down to meet the area between her legs. He turned to press his cheek to the soft flesh of her thigh, and she gasped, the sound fading to a low laugh as she took in the feeling of his mouth and his hair caressing her skin. He kissed her then, tentatively darting his tongue out to taste her and sighing with relief once he realized he could actually taste again. Once he had that revelation, there was no going back. He was a man starved, his kisses growing more hungry as they traveled up and up and up...

Once his tongue made curious contact with the hood of her clit, Y/N gasped again, clutching her bed sheets and rolling her hips up to meet him. Spencer groaned, and a selfish part of him wished she could hear it. He wanted her to know just how crazy she was driving him, how much he wanted her. She could certainly feel it, her reaction to the vibrations causing her muscles to flex and her toes to curl, and he decided then that it would have to do. He was just going to have to make her feel his desire so deeply that it rattled in her bones and lingered there for the rest of eternity. He wanted to ruin everybody else for her, to stay with her until the end of time.

She reached and felt around for his head, fingers threading through invisible curls as she cried out.

"Spencer, you're so— so good..."

He hummed his approval at the praise and continued to work her, adding a third finger and sucking on her clit to feel her fingers tugging at his scalp. The sensation alone had him nearly lightheaded, and he wanted to stay there forever, lost in her taste and her touch and her noises.

God, her noises...

She sighed and whined, and stretched and squelched around his fingers, and he was convinced that had he not already been dead, he would have begged whoever was listening to keep him alive just to experience her forever.

The second she struggled to keep her legs open, trapping his head between them, he knew she was quickly approaching her orgasm, and he couldn't wait. He'd heard her climax before, but being right there as it was happening felt like a privilege he would always be grateful for. He wanted to replicate everything he'd heard that night and get to feel it, too— get to be the one to make her feel that way.

"Fuck, don't stop, I'm s— so close..."

Spencer groaned into her as if to say, "I know, I can feel you." Oh, how he wished he could talk her through it, to tease her with his words... Alas, he had no choice but to encourage her with his actions, so he used his free hand to search for one of hers. She gave up her hand to lace their fingers together, and his thumb continued to draw mindless circles into her skin as she clenched and released, over and over again until she was coming.

"Spencer!" she cried to the air, over and over again as if she could will him into existence again. It was a desperate plea, a manifestation, and the both of them secretly hoped that it would work.

She wanted to see him

He wanted her to see him, too.

He felt her climax subside, and then he slowly eased his fingers out of her and trailed his tongue down to keep tasting. A part of him was scared to realize he might not actually be visible like he hoped, but he pushed the potential disappointment aside and luxuriated in the way she tasted. He delved in and gripped the underside of her thighs to keep them steady, and with a delighted groan as he pushed his tongue inside, Y/N gasped.

"Fuck, I can hear you..."

The words excited him greatly.

"Thank God."

Spencer kissed her, tasted her until she was writhing and begging him to stop.

"Please, Spencer, kiss me."

He pulled away and looked up at her, smiling even though she still couldn't see him. "I am kissing you," he replied, pressing his lips to her thigh.

"You know what I mean. Come here..."

He laughed and obliged, kissing his way up her legs and crawling up her body. He slowly dragged his hands up her stomach, bunching up her nightgown and sliding it up her body the farther he got. Her eyes watched in allure as the fabric rode up and up and up, seemingly on its own. But she knew better, she knew who was undressing her and worshipping her, and it made her squirm.

She lifted her arms over her head and let him take the clothing off, revealing her chest to the chilly air. She watched as the fabric flew to the ground, and then felt Spencer's hands return to her skin, gentle fingers raising goosebumps all over. Her nipples pinched and hardened the closer he got to them, and soon enough he was palming her breasts as he pressed his forehead to hers, wedging his body between her legs.

"Kiss me," she breathed, feeling his nose touch hers. His breath was hot against her own, and her eyes fluttered shut. "Please..."

"Anything for you, sweet girl..."

She sighed as his mouth finally collided with her own, the heady and prominent taste of her arousal growing stronger the deeper he kissed her. Their bodies couldn't stop moving, wandering hands and urgent hips, and with his newfound ability to speak to her, Spencer spoke in gentle praises. He sighed out her name reverently, telling her how good and sweet and perfect she was, and she returned every word with a whimper, in awe that he was really there. He was becoming more and more present, and she couldn't get enough.

"I want to feel you," she said against his lips, dragging her hand down his invisible chest. She fingered through every button of his shirt until it was loose and open, and the cool hum of his skin as she explored his torso made her hands numb.

Spencer kissed her jaw and groaned, feeling himself throb at her words. "Let me help..."

He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bulge in his pants, even though she could have just as easily stumbled onto it herself. The intimacy of it all was almost overwhelming, so much so that when her grip tightened softly on his clothed erection, Spencer almost came undone right then and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... I'd say you're going to be the death of me, but..."

They laughed together until she kissed him again, deeply and with a sigh. "You're becoming more and more real, but... this feels like... it feels like a dream."

He understood what she meant, and it filled him with a tinge of sadness, but her hand slowly palming him was becoming harder and harder to ignore. He gripped her wrist and his breath hitched in her ear as he nipped at it.

"Trust me, sweetheart... I am very real."

She shuddered at his words and squeezed him tighter before fumbling for his belt.

"Spencer... Do you think..." Her hands successfully undid the confines of his pants and started to slide them down over his hips, trying not to mess up her words as he sucked marks into her neck. "Do you think that if you fuck me... I'll finally be able to see you?"

"Mmm, God, I hope so," he groaned earnestly, repositioning themselves so he could kick off his pants and rest her head on the pillow. She let him take the lead, her breath getting heavier with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs and grabbed her wrist. Once again, he was guiding her hand to his cock, hard and, this time, bare. She cursed under her breath as she gripped him and he helped her languidly stroke himself in exploration. His fingers were strong over hers, and he applied just the right amount of pressure to draw out a groan from the both of them.

"Please," she sighed out desperately through shallow breaths. "Spencer, please, I need you..."

How could he resist?

He didn't even want to entertain the thought of trying.

"Then let me take care of you, sweet girl," he cooed, hiking her thighs to rest over his hips and slowly sinking into her with ease.

Once he was all the way in, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, comforting her through the low burn. He slowly rolled his hips forward as she cried out his name, her fingers coming up to grip his shoulders. "You feel that?" he whispered into her skin. "How perfectly I fit inside you? It's like you were made for me..."

"Uh-huh," she stuttered in agreement.

He stopped teasing her then, pulling back to start fucking her nice and slow as she adjusted to him. Her fingers curled and knotted into the loose material of his shirt. She would have slid it off of him, but the grip on something steady was nice as she let him focus on his ministrations. He seemed to be doing just fine with the shirt on, anyway, and it was hard to even think about anything other than how good he felt.

She wondered then, as he picked up momentum and started peppering kisses down her jawline, what she looked like to the night. If she were standing there, outside her own body, watching herself being thoroughly and beautifully wrecked by something invisible and obviously enjoying every second...

Her eyes rolled back at the image, just as Spencer started going harder. His hips snapped into hers with a strength and precision that felt like it was rattling worlds. It very well could have been, and neither of them had any mind to care; They were so intensively intertwined with each other that it was a different world entirely.

They started to burn hot, that familiar warm chill of impending pleasure creeping up through their bodies and setting them alight. Y/N snaked her arms up to Spencer's neck and brought him down for a searing kiss as she melted into him, and he returned it with a fervor that elicited the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He felt it all the way in his bones, felt the waves of pleasure start to drag him under as she squeezed him with her limbs and started to come undone herself.

The atmosphere around them was purely electrifying, bright snaps of skin and sharp whispers of mouth combining to brew a perfect storm that nothing would ever survive. It was wild and unconstrained, glimmering and grand, and in their wake, the two entities left their desire lingering in the air for the dead of night to stew in for as long as it would allow.

Spencer collapsed on top of her with a hefty sigh, and he was grateful to be able to finally share his voice with her. The mystery and simplicity of the X's and O's were fun to indulge in at first, but now that they'd grown closer and created something beautiful and memorable together, he had to tell her exactly how he felt— no symbols, no mysteries...

He kissed her softly and pulled back to look into her eyes, dragging a thumb over her cheekbone as he told her the truth.

"You're perfect."

Her eyes went wide, welling with tears as she reached up and ran a finger softly along the bridge of his nose.

"You're beautiful."

Relief and something else—something warm—stirred in Spencer's chest at the confirmation that she could finally see him, and that she was moved by what she saw. Who she saw...

He couldn't help the smile that adorned his face, and the soft joyous laughter that escaped him as she continued to explore his features with the pads of her fingertips, like she was trying to memorize him from touch alone in case he suddenly disappeared again.

"I mean it, Spencer, you're... even more beautiful than I imagined."

"You imagined me?" he inquired rather suggestively.

With a laugh, she brought him down for a slow, searing kiss. "Duh..."

Even though they were tired, they stayed like that for hours, kissing and exploring and sighing until the sweet lull of sleep took hold and carried them through the night.

For a solid few hours until he awoke, Spencer completely forgot that he wasn't alive.

ACT III: Unfinished Business

Y/N had never done so much research in her entire life. She liked Spencer, and she was more than happy to help him out, but man... Reading dozens of articles and textbooks and blogs about the different types of spirits and how to lay them to rest was a long, exhausting road that led pretty much nowhere. There was no way to know what type of ghost Spencer was or how to help him move on, not that she could see, anyway. She didn't know if he'd age with her, or be 'undead' long enough to become vicious and bitter like a lot of the spirits she read about, and Spencer's research was just about as inconclusive as her own.

A selfish part of her hoped she'd never find out, to keep him around forever... But she also knew that wasn't fair to him. No matter how lonely she was or how much fun they had and how they enjoyed each other's company, well... The fact of the matter was, he was dead.

And he deserved to rest.

In the meantime, in the hours between headache-inducing frustration at the lack of answers, Spencer told her about his life. His friends, mostly— the best people he'd ever known. The way he described them, she had a feeling that they might hold the key to his dilemma. If not directly, perhaps there was something about him that they knew, something that might give Y/N some insight into his ghostly purpose, so to speak. Not that she couldn't ask Spencer directly, but they'd already discussed a lot of back-and-forth on enemies and people that could have wanted to harm him, all of which were surefire impossibilities. Not to mention the fact that he seemed tied to this apartment and not anything else. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with it, but neither of them knew.

It was the only other option she had.

They laid next to each other in her bed, her head laying on his chest. Her ear warmed gently, and tried as she might to hear a heartbeat, all she could hear was a faint white noise, almost like he was merely a figure of tangible energy rather than a body. She supposed that was technically what he was, but as much as she'd grown to know and like Spencer, it was hard to think of him that way. It was... sad to think of him that way.

She frowned and nestled into him, trying to push away that petulant nagging in the depths of her soul that screamed "This isn't fair!" and she told him the most difficult thing she'd ever had the courage to push past her lips.

"I think I have an idea... You can say no if you think it's too weird, but... It might help you. Maybe."

"Mmm, what's that?" he responded, curious but not audibly hopeful. It made Y/N even more sad to think he probably figured he'd never find peace.

"What if I go talk to your friends? Do you think they might know something you don't?"

There was a beat of silence before she felt his chest heave with gentle laughter. "Derek Morgan definitely wouldn't think so..."

Recalling some of the funny stories he'd told her about him, she smiled. Still, she pressed. "I mean it. What other outlets do we have? Where else is there to look? If there's anyone who knows you better than anyone else, wouldn't it be them?"

Spencer sighed, giving it a thought. His fingers raked through her hair and massaged her scalp to the point of gentle, comforting numbness, another one of those domestic moments that had her feeling absolutely conflicted.

And then, he said, "Actually... I think I know exactly who you should talk to..."

———

There was a deep chill in her bones as she approached Penelope Garcia's apartment building, but not because of the lively, rustling October wind. In fact, she wanted to throw up at the thought of having this conversation. But not because she didn't want to help Spencer. She did, more than anything.

She was just afraid of being arrested.

Spencer assured her that it would be fine and that Penelope was harmless, and while the latter she could believe, it still nerved her to wander up to a woman's door and announce that she lived in the apartment of her beloved dead co-worker and needed to help him fulfill his destiny as a spirit. It sounded like a cruel joke.

"If anyone would believe you, it would be Penelope," he'd said, comforting her with a pat on the shoulder.

Maybe it was true, but she didn't want to find out if it wasn't. It was one thing to have the door slammed in your face by a grief-stricken loved one, but a grief-stricken loved one who worked for the fucking FBI was ten times worse; There were a lot more horrifying outcomes that came with that combination.

Still, she trusted Spencer on a level she'd barely trusted anyone else, and he wasn't even alive for God's sake... So she strapped on her boots, threw on her most comfortable jacket, and braced the wind and whatever fate blew with it.

For Spencer.

"For Spencer," she muttered under her breath as she rapped on the door. Three times. Third time's the charm, three's a crowd, three clicks of the heel and you're home... Three seemed like a lucky number. Three was inviting, friendly, not intended to inflict emotional damage.

Please, God, don't let her hate me, Y/N prayed to whoever was listening. Don't let this go horribly wrong.

A bright voice was yelling beyond the door, and with every millisecond that it got louder and closer, her heart started to beat faster. Blood thrummed in her ears, and she kept repeating, "For Spencer, for Spencer, for Spencer," on a loop to remind her why she was going through all this anxiety.

The voice got closer, but still muffled, until the door swung open. Then it stopped altogether. Y/N blinked and stood there with a stiff back and sweaty palms, in front of Penelope Garcia. The woman was obviously expecting somebody else to be at the door, but she didn't look disappointed, just confused.

"Oh. You're not Luke. How can I help you?"

"Um... My name is Y/N. I... Before I tell you why I'm here, I need you to know that I'm not trying to play a trick on you, and I don't want to make you sad or upset, and if there's anything you need or want to know about me in order to trust me, then I'll gladly give you that information, but this is really important and I need you to know that I'm not crazy or harmful, I just want to help him."

Penelope's eyes went wide as she reached out and grabbed her hand. The thrumming in her ears got louder as she took a deep breath and waited for the yelling to start, her body to be thrown to the ground, or a sharp piercing sting of a backhand.

The only thing she felt, however, was a tug at her heart and the gentle dissipation of nerves as Penelope spoke one simple word.

"Spencer."

"How... How did you know?"

"Ever since he... Since he's been... I just knew something didn't feel right. Everyone told me that it was just grief, and for a while that's also what I told myself, but... That feeling was just too... Wait, who did you say you were again?"

Y/N stuttered her name and gripped Penelope's hand tighter, hoping to create some rapport. "I live in his apartment. He's been... Visiting me."

Something in her eyes softened and then saddened at the confirmation that her friend was somehow still among the living. "A visitor in his own home... Poor Boy Genius..."

She couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "He said you called him that often..."

Wide eyes welling with tears, Penelope nodded and tugged at her visitor's hand. "He was the smartest person I ever knew. Kindest, too. Here, come on inside, I'll make you some tea. Do you like tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?"

Her hospitality as she ushered her inside was both comforting and saddening to Y/N. It was in her nature to be that way to guests, even strangers, sure, but it also acted as a shield from the somber feelings she'd been rushed with at a moment's notice, no thanks to said stranger.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Penelope," Y/N rushed as she shrugged her coat off. "You don't have to make me anything."

"Oh, I know I don't have to, but would you like something warm to drink?"

She was practically begging for the distraction, something to do with her hands as she had time to process and prepare for what was about to happen.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

"Perfect, I'll get it started. Make yourself comfortable, Sweets."

She carried her coat over her arms, holding it to her chest like a tether to reality. None of this felt real, even though she could still feel the warm glow of Spencer's energy all around her, like it had burrowed into the pores of her skin and made a home there.

As she looked around at Penelope's bright and colorful space, she thought about him... How often had he been here? What did they do together, and where did they hang out? She imagined the laughter and the stories and the cooking... She wished she would have known him then, been a part of his life. As scary as he told her it was at times, she knew there were also plenty of bright spots, and she knew Penelope was definitely one of the brightest.

Y/N smiled, hugging her coat tighter.

"I like your apartment," she complimented, sitting down at a small dining table in the corner.

"Thank you! I always told Spencer he should get some more color, but... What can I say, he really loved his neutrals."

The familiar detail brought a smile to her face. "That doesn't surprise me. He told me that even though he likes me, he really hates my floral couch and that it looked weird in his apartment. I told him he was boring." And, that technically, it was her apartment now. In fact, her exact words after the fact were, "What are you going to do, haunt me?" before they both laughed and continued making out on said couch.

But she didn't need to remind Penelope of the fact that he was gone. Or to inform her that she was intimately involved with his ghost.

Just the thought alone was enough to make the low, ever-present hum of his imprinted memory on her skin even more intense, and she smiled.

"Oh... I know that look."

Y/N looked up at Penelope, who was grinning with the most mischievous gleam in her eye.

"What look?"

"You think he's cute, don't you?"

"I... I don't..."

"Well, I suppose even if you can't see him, I'm sure he's charmed you anyway. And you probably Googled him."

"How did you—"

"It's what I would have done... So?" she prompted, still waiting for an answer of some kind.

Y/N sighed, defeated and impressed by Penelope's skills at quickly retrieving information. But she also didn't want to lie to her, so she had no choice but to answer her questions with the truth anyway. "Well, I can see him. But I couldn't at first. My um... My friends came over one night, and they brought a Ouija board. We used it for shits and giggles because I'd joked to them after I moved in that I didn't feel totally alone, and well..."

"It wasn't a joke?"

Penelope brought over the tea, steaming and aromatic. Y/N took it with a nod of thanks and sighed as she sat down across from her.

"No. But I didn't actually think I was living with a ghost, I mean... I didn't believe in that stuff. But I also wasn't going to risk pissing him off, so I tried to be nice to him. I only knew his name, and then my friends looked him up and we read his obituary, and... I don't know, I guess I just thought he seemed like a good person, so he deserved some kindness in the afterlife. I said hello to the air every time I came home from work, I yelled out a good night before going to bed... And then he started leaving me notes on my bathroom mirror, and I guess... I don't know, the more he and I got to know each other, the easier things became. Eventually he could touch things, and then soon after he was audible, then visible..."

She conveniently left out the details of that journey, though her skin warmed again at the memory.

"And now that we can communicate, it's become clear to me that he doesn't know where he's going— Why he's not at rest... I feel bad for him. He deserves..." Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard before looking down at the mug in her hand. "He deserves to move on."

Penelope was quiet for a moment as Y/N sipped her tea. Her hand reached out to grab hers, and the gesture almost had her in tears.

"You sound... Sad about that."

She couldn't help the pressure that pulsed behind her eyes, stabbing at her throat... Still, she made herself speak, barely above a whisper to prevent that inevitable cracking of the voice that would surely break the dam she was trying so hard to keep still and strong. "I... I know it sounds absolutely crazy..."

"You're falling in love with him."

Though the words didn't come from her own mouth, they came flying at her like a sucker punch to the gut. The wind was knocked out of her for a moment, until all she could do was exhale and let the tears fall silently as she nodded.

Penelope let her cry for a minute or two without a word while holding her hand, until she was ready to elaborate. "But I can't... I can't keep him here, it's not right. If he doesn't have any unfinished business, then he should be put to rest. And I... I don't know how to help him. I thought maybe, if I could talk to the people who knew him the best... I could get an idea."

"Oh, Honey, I... I'm sorry, but I don't know any more than you do." She was talking through tears herself, and Y/N squeezed her hand back. "His mother's been gone for years now, and there's no other family that he was close enough with to even consider, other than us, but... Truthfully I don't know if we really count in the grand scheme of things... I'd like to think that we do..."

"You might not be blood-related, but you were his family. He loved you so much, I could tell by the way he spoke about all of you. He... He misses you a lot. I just wish he didn't have to feel that loss anymore."

Penelope frowned. "I wish I could give you an answer... When you go back to him... Will you at least tell him that we love him?"

"He already knows. But yes. I will."

"And I'll keep on thinking. Whatever you need, you got it. I have access to pretty much everything so if there's information to be had, I will get my paws on it, and you will know. Thank you for coming to see me. And for telling me that Spencer's okay... He is okay, right?"

Y/N hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure how to answer without giving away their extra-curricular activities. "I think so. He's tired, I can tell. But I do my best to keep him happy. The last thing I need is to have him angrily haunting me."

Penelope laughed, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I think that means you better get rid of that glorious couch, then."

The laughter was a welcome break from the tears, which had already started to dry on her skin, leaving her cheeks itchy. "I really appreciate you being so kind, Penelope... Losing Spencer must have been absolutely impossible, and having a complete stranger show up at your door and pour salt in the wound... I couldn't imagine..."

"Y/N... If there was any person on this planet who could have moved into his apartment and helped him through this... I think I speak for the whole BAU when I say that he's lucky it's you."

The sentiment made her chest tight, and an involuntary pout tugged at her mouth. "You... You really mean that?"

Penelope laughed and squeezed her hand again. "Oh, Darling, you even pout like him... You're kind of perfect for each other."

"I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that," she replied through a fit of hysterics, and Penelope joined her.

It was clear then that these two women were meant to bond seamlessly over the loss of someone dear, one in life and the other in death. They were two sides of the same coin, a best friend and an anchor to the other side. It was a solace that neither of them had expected, but welcomed with open arms and warm understanding.

They exchanged stories and laughs and phone numbers and hugs, and joked about exchanging addresses, and a while later, just as Y/N was about to go home, fastening her coat, Penelope stopped her.

"Wait... I don't mean to make you sad or anything, and maybe this isn't the answer that either of you were looking for... But after today? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Spencer's unfinished business is you."

The thought froze her entirely. It would stand to reason that they were meant to find each other, only to let each other go. Because, of course. Nobody was ever that lucky, especially neither Spencer nor his new roommate.

Sensing her overthinking, Penelope continued. "I know it's unfortunate given the circumstances, but... You did say that the more you got to know him, the more... alive he became. At least as alive as he can be. And I've only known you for about an hour, but I can confidently say that you are about as perfect for Spencer as somebody could be for anybody. And..."

She shifted on her feet, unsure of whether she should actually say what she was about to tell her, but obviously needing to make her point with as much context as possible. "You know, he's tried. He watched many of us find love and have families of our own, and he's always wanted that, but... He never got to have it. I think... that was the one thing that he always truly and completely wanted, especially after his mom passed and he had no one left but us... Somebody to go home to, somebody who understood him and cared about him and wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him... A soulmate. And... Y/N, I think it might be you."

Her head was swimming and tears were blurring her vision again. As much as she wanted to believe it, ever the lover of grand romantic endings, it didn't make sense. She didn't really believe in soulmates, did she? Then again, she didn't believe in ghosts, either, until recently...

"How could you possibly know that?" she whispered to Penelope, hoping for a switch in her brain to flip. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to dash home and confidently confess to the ghost living in her apartment that they were made for each other and that she could finally set him free.

And... Then what?

There had to be another explanation.

"I wish I could tell you how, definitively," Penelope answered sadly, "and like I said, I don't want to upset you... But it's just a feeling. And my feelings are hardly ever wrong. Hey, I mean I had a feeling that Spencer was still out there somehow, and that turned out to be true, right?"

"I... I guess," she sniffled.

"Just... Do me a favor, okay? Think about it. Spend tonight with him, like you normally do, and really really think about it. And tell me you don't feel it."

It almost sounded like a playful challenge rather than a request. Y/N wiped at her eyes and sighed. "You're really sure?"

"Positive."

Y/N wasn't really sure if she believed it still, but there was a conviction in Penelope's voice that was too sincere to ignore. And Spencer trusted her, which obviously meant a lot.

So, she promised that she would think about it anyway, bade her new friend farewell, and made her way outside, where the wind had died and left the streets lifeless and quiet.

———

Something was different about Y/N when she came home.

Spencer tried to let her go about the night and refrain from saying anything, but after regretfully informing him that Penelope had no wisdom to offer her about their situation but would get back to her if anything did come to mind, she was... odd. Perhaps she was just as tired as he was in trying to solve this mystery, or just tired in general. But he didn't want to push her if she didn't want to open up, so he did what he could and offered his company.

Still, she didn't seem right.

He thought maybe a flurry of warm, tender kisses along her skin would put her in high spirits, but the longer she let him worship her skin without so much as a sigh in return, it started to sink in that something was deeply wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asked sweetly, stroking her jaw with the back of his hand as he looked her in the eye. She looked at him for only a few seconds before averting her gaze, like if she allowed him to meet her eyes for any longer, he'd pull something from her that she'd rather not share. It sent a small wave of panic through him. "Y/N, talk to me, please... What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," she said unconvincingly.

"You don't... have to talk about it if you don't want to... But you're upset about something, and I want to help you. I'll do whatever you need me to. I'll listen, I'll leave you alone, I'll kiss it better... Whatever you want. It's yours."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, defeated. "God, you FBI people are too good at getting information out of people, it's annoying."

Spencer laughed. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel interrogated. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just... I'm..."

She couldn't seem to get out the words, like there was a frustrating lack of understanding how to convey them. He drew continuous circles gently into her palm and waited patiently for her to open up, silently promising that he would be there for her when she finally found the right words.

It was a question that she finally settled on. "Have you ever been in love? Like... Really in love?"

Something inside him jolted at the thought of where this conversation might lead. If he had a heartbeat, it would have raced and thrummed so heavily that the organ might have failed. In truth, he'd been thinking about it for a week or two now. Ever since the night he realized that his interactions with her were the key to becoming more sentient, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps she was the thing he was tethered to.

He didn't dare say it out loud, or to her face, because... Well, it was too soon, wasn't it? And it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because once he was lain to rest, they could never be together.

It was complicated.

"I think I was, a few times," he finally answered in earnest. "And to be fair, just because things didn't work out with them, it doesn't mean I didn't really love them. I did. But... I think deep down I knew they weren't really The One... Does that make sense?"

"I think so... I don't think I've ever been in love before. Even with long-term partners, we said the words, and I felt something that was happy and I thought was love, but..." She paused, avoiding his eye again before rapidly blinking back tears. "Now I feel this... this anchor to you that I can't let go of... I want to be around you all the time and I know it's not fair because you deserve to rest, but I can't help it. Spencer, I... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm afraid that once I really admit it out loud, you'll be gone forever."

He knew, then, that this was it. Listening intently as she confessed, absorbing every word and allowing himself to feel and admit what he knew to be true for a while now, his body began to tingle. It was so dull at first, he almost mistook the feeling for 'butterflies'. It felt cruel not to tell her that he was starting to fade, but he didn't want to ruin the moment or panic her. He didn't want to tell her that she was running out of time. That they were running out of time.

So, instead, to try and ease the blow, he told her something sweet.

He told her, "I love you."

Her eyes glossed over at the confession. She reached urgently for his hands, her grip strong and willing like she knew what was going to happen. And maybe she did. Still, she sat there and listened to him, her eyes taking in every inch of his presence and committing him to memory.

He aimed to make it a memory she would never forget.

"I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I don't doubt that we will. Not for a second. And until then, my only wish is that you keep allowing yourself to fall in love. Don't be afraid of it. You shouldn't deny yourself just because I'm gone. Can you promise me that you'll try?"

Y/N blinked away tears and tugged at his hands. "What if I can't?"

"You will, my sweet girl. And I promise, I won't be mad at you."

She laughed despite herself, then almost cried again when she felt his presence start to fizzle and break in front of her eyes. She was desperate to hold on to him, clutching his hands for dear life and breathlessly whispering, "I love you, Spencer Reid," as if the conviction alone would be enough to keep him here. As if whatever cruel deity was putting them through this would see how much she needed him and decided to spare her the misery.

"I wish I could have known you when I was alive," he told her, leaning in closer. "Maybe we could have been neighbors."

She smiled through tears and pressed her forehead to his, the contact making her skin go numb. Silently she hoped that wherever he was going, she would be sucked in with him. "Then I would have invited you over for dinner."

He squeezed her hands, already feeling his grip fading, his essence nearly numbing him. Still, he willed himself to stay long enough to paint this life for the two of them—one they would never get to have, except only in dreams and perhaps in another life entirely. Anything was possible, after all.

"And I still would have made fun of your ugly couch."

"And I would have pushed you onto it and made you take it back."

"And I would have refused."

"And I would have kissed you ."

"And I would have kissed you back."

"And I would have fallen in love with you immediately."

"And I would have sworn that I'd fall in love with you in every universe."

She closed her eyes, feeling the very last remnants of his presence as she whispered, "I think it's safe to assume that you already have."

"And I think I'm inclined to agree."

THE END

[sasster]

laeche and...reid?

Call it self preservation, call it paranoia, or even call it agoraphobia, whatever anyone wants to call it, the fact is a simple one; Reid makes an effort to stay where he is safe and sound in Koteus’s hive.

In the five years since he found himself stuck on Alternia, he can count on just his two hands the amount of times he’s left the safety of the secluded territory. Even then, most of that was moving from the safety of one hive to the next. Which is why his current existence at the farmer’s market just outside of the House of Restoration is such a marvel.

The trolls shuffling around him don’t even know they’re dealing with a tried and true homebody.

He stands awkwardly near a stand that claims to sell some sort of berry from some distant colony planet, cultivated here on Alternian soil.

An alien fruit, the only thing he has anything in common with aside from Alli, the person who got him all disguised up and dragged him out here in the first place.

they disappeared into the crowd ages ago, in his effort to find them he found himself here with this alien fruit.

Reid stares at the berries blankly, wondering what the chances of him being allergic to these orange raspberry shaped fruits might be. He isn’t allergic to regular berries, but alien, Alternian raised berries might prove to explode human heads or something.

Suddenly the edges of his vision start to blur and it feels like his heart is about to pound its way out of his chest.

The world starts spinning.

He needs to find Alli.

He turns on his heels and starts to go in the direction he last saw them go in.

Slam!

He walks directly into the chest of a stranger that must’ve been standing too close. Or maybe he took too big a stride.

All he knows is that briefly his world is engulfed in soft gray fabric and then two steady hands grip his shoulders and hold him in place, arms length apart.

“Hey, bud. Aren’t you going to get my name before motorboating me?”

The voice belonging to the pair of hands, laced in a bit of humor, grounds him, but just enough to realize he is standing much too close to a stranger. He pulls away quite dramatically and stares up at the troll.

Sweater with a fleet emblem, purple eyes, fuck.

All that’s missing is some facepaint.

Reid takes a half step back.

His eyes are kind, hands up to show he doesn’t mean any harm, with a slouch that indicates he is trying to portray a more lax stature.

Anyone can fake those things.

Reid’s eyes dart from the troll in front of him to the rest of the crowd milling through the market.

He must look like he is about to dart himself because the stranger sets a hand on his shoulder again.

“Hey. Stay with me kid. You don’t look so hot.”

“I need to find my friend.”

“Can’t even find your own feet.” He says with a small laugh, almost pitying in nature, as he gently guides Reid to sit at a curb. The panicked human does nothing to fight against it. His voice is actually pretty soothing. “Got a name?”

“Casper. My name is Casper.”

“Alrighty Casper. I’m Laeche. Lai’s good too. How about you take a drink of that water there and we sit here and wait for your friend together?”

Reid nods slowly, patting around for the water bottle hanging off of his backpack. When he finds and unclips it he drinks in big gulps while keeping his eye on the purple blood.

His heart thrums in his throat still.

Laeche.

He seems content to just sit there fiddling with his purchases for the day, then he takes out his phone and swipes through what must be a list, and back to fussing in his bags.

“It’s the craziest thing, Cas. I get back home for the first time in a handful of perigees, I got two brats sending me to the market for ingredients.”

“Is it laziness?”

“They love to boss me around.” He shakes his head. “Crazy, right?”

“I know the feeling.”

“Speaking of. Feeling better?”

Before Reid can answer, someone casts a shadow over the pair and Laeche adjusts himself to take a more defensive posture over him.

The figure speaks before he gets a chance to see.

“Casper!”

It’s Alli. Thank god. thank god he didn’t take off when he wanted to.

“Rorian! You disappeared.”

Just like that, the purple blood relaxes and continues to dig in his bag.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” They rub the back of their head as they mumble their apology. Excitable nature temporarily muted to leave room for sincerity. “Did you make a new friend?!”

“This is Laeche.”

“Hola.” Laeche says with a half wave as he stands.

“Hola!” Is Alli’s enthusiastic reply. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah. I need to find some peppers. It’s been real, Casper. Rorian take good care of my buddy here, will you?”

“You got it, chief!”

As he walks by he mumbles something into Alli’s ear that Reid doesn’t quite catch. They immediately gasp and rip their backpack off to dig around for something in it.

“What’s up?” Reid asks with the tilt of his head, standing up now.

“Heh, uhm. Don’t freak out,” they request quietly, as calmly as they can, as they pull up a small jar of paint from the bag. “He said you’re sweating through on the back of your neck.”

[coffteablogs]

Official System Headcount Post (Updates Often) (Sub Systems included in intro post)

CC!Tommy/Tom (🐞☀️)

C!Tommy/Sparrow/Castor (📀🍄)

Theseus/Exile!Tommy (💿🦷)

O!Tommy/Adyren (🐔🥕)

ARG!Innit/Ocean (🌊🔦)

C!Tubbo/Nuke (💥)

CC!Tubbo/Basil/Colley (🐝🌳)

CC!Ran/Kiya (😷☁️)

C!Ranboo/Boo (☔👑)

Eret (👑🍓)

CC!Willow (🌱🌎)

C!Will/Wilbur (🧨)

Rev!Bur/Rev/Crow (🌹🍷)

L'man!Bur (🇬🇧💣)

Ghost/Ghostbur (🌀🫐)

Lovejoy!Bur/Will/Castor (🎸)

YLYL!Bur/Pidge (🎬)

ARG!Bur/Rain (❄️)

Softboy!Bur/Finn (🌀)

Friend (🐑💙)

C!Shlatt (🥃🎙️)

Rev!Shlatt (🍾💥)

CC!Sapnap/Nick (🔥🏁)

Percy/Clay (🐄🍵)

Philza/Phill (🍏🐦‍⬛)

Admin (👾📚)

Rhinestone (💎👁️)

Toby (📕📌)

Amnesia (🏩💉)

Spencer (🌱🧷)

Smoke/Will (🩹☁️)

Dib (🔦 ☄️)

Elijah (🎸⚡)

Kadaver (🔪🫀)

Zetzugo (💧)

Carnis (🥩🔪)

Odysseus (👁️🪽)

Dipper/Mason (🌲)

Pup (🐾☄️)

Wally Darling/Walls/Apple (🏠🍎)

Flowey (🌈🌼)

Q!Will (🌻🧣)

Talullah/Tally (🌼🎵)

Q!Quackity (🦆)

C!Quackity (🎲🎰)

CC!Quackity (🦆🎥)

Sunny (☀️)

Moony (🌙)

Winnona (🎸🌼)

Sal/Sally Face (🎸🎭)

Jeff/Jeff the Killer ( 🔪🎸)

Ticci Tobi/Tobi(🪓)

Casp/Casper/Spyder(📷🕷️)

Bilzo/Bill(🌼🦴)

Karl (Fuzztive) (🌀💫)

Transbur/Orca (🌟🏳️‍⚧️)

Sorry!Bur/Ashe (🔥⏱️)

Finn/Twig (🐌)

Stampy (🍰🍎)

Fizzy (🍪🌈)

Soda/Theo (🥁‼️)

Link (🗡️)

Dr.Spencer Reid (📗)

Clowny (🌈🎉)

Bear (🦦🔬)

Honey/Compass (🦊🧭)

Apollo Star (🌪️⛏️)

Punk/Hobie (🕸️🎸)

Izuku/Zuzu/Deku/Mydoria (🥬)

Katsuki/Katsu/Bakugo (💥‼️)

Denki/Denks/Kami (⚡)

Ura/Uraraka/Ochako (🍧)

Tomura/Shigaraki (🥀)

Luz/Tommy/Ranboo (🧃🐈)

Amity/Ami (🦕🌠)

CC!Techno/Alex (🐖)

CC!Guqqie (🎨🍄)

Juicy/Gage (🌭)

Russia/Nikolai (🇷🇺)

America (🇺🇸)

Crow (☀️🎸)

Joel (🪨)

StudentBur/Pluto (📚)

Zomb!Bur/Satyrn (🪐)

Ethan (⚙️)

CC!Charlie (🪲)

C!Charlie/Slime (🧫)

Q!Charlie/Code/Vyr (🦎)

CC!Cellbit (☕)

CC!Jadien (🖌️🐦)

Q!Mariana/Vyix/Mari ()

König (🧊)

Ghost (💀)

Hozier (🌼)

Fisher (🐇⚓)

Berk (🧷🩼)

Maggie (🔇🌷)

(WIP)

97

[accustiv-archived]

INCORRECT QUOTES ; beau & casper - for @vanishinq

[kavehpilled]

here they are. btw. look at them

pet rats are having a deposit put on them rn I am so excited :3