#Like Penelope and her mom was so good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

januaryembrs · 10 months ago

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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but think he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?

Length: 8k

Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.

main masterlist.

author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!

He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression.

He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul.

Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl.

Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.

“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”

She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek.

She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.

Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal.

“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie.

“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not.

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before.

“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his.

“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,”

She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them.

“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”

She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,”

But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t.

“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word.

Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him.

“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I’m dying for the good stuff,”

Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.

Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil.

For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.

–

Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together.

Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice.

Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.

Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning.

“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”

He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask.

“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee.

“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her.

“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,”

“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore.

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable.

“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating.

Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel.

Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue.

“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question.

His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?”

Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly.

“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him.

“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror.

“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy.

“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her.

“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her.

“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague.

“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”

He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that.

He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.

And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor.

The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning.

They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive.

“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house.

The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“

“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?”

“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud.

But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features.

“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole.

Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified.

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it.

“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,”

“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified.

She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window.

“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?”

He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would.

He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.

Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.

“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”

“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.

“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you’d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”

Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it.

“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”

“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.

“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”

“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”

“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”

“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”

She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.

–

They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of.

And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.

She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.

“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”

“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.

She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.

“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”

“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies.

She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face.

“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.

“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.

“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”

Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”

“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love.

“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”

JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.

Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”

She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.

The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.

“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.

“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”

Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.

But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.

He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.

—

It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.

In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.

It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.

“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.

“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,”

Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.

“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”

“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”

And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.

They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?

Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.

She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft.

“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.

“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.

“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too.

Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.

“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.

“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”

He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response.

“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.

“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”

“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months.

Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”

“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.

“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem.

Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him.

“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time.

He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world.

“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”

“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips.

“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,”

“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”

Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.

“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.

He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground.

“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”

She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped.

“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?”

He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?”

She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.

“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?”

He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.

“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.

“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”

Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right.

He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.

He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.

He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.

“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”

Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.

“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.

And she believed him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

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cerisereids · 9 months ago

Text

𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀, 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲- 𝘀.𝗿.

wc- ~2k

pairing- young dad!spencer reid x fem!mom!reader

summary- baby diana can’t bring her stuffie into day care with her, so spencer promises to take good care of it at work. the bau jumps at the opportunity to help, even if they weren’t technically asked.

warnings- sfw, whoooole lots of fluff, analyst!bau!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, spencer and reader are married, the baby girl is 3!, spencer is in his s4 era, s and r show pda at work, set in modern times

a/n- based on this tik tok! dividers from @reveriesources and @saradika-graphics!!

diana reid’s monstrous wails pierce through the air, ringing through spencer’s head like a gong. she has a death grip on her favorite toy, lamby, and won’t go into daycare unless the stuffed lamb goes with her. spencer rubs at his temples, desperately searching his expansive mind for an idea, any idea, that will alleviate his daughter’s heartache.

“honey, i’m so sorry,” he coos, desperate to calm the toddler’s screeching, “you can’t bring lamby to day care, i’m sorry sweetie,” he frowns, each scream like a shot to the heart. he brings his thumb to wipe her red, tear stained, chubby cheeks, smoothing his finger over the soft skin. she settles into his touch slightly, a sweet sigh escaping her lips, just before they downtick into another pout.

“no!” she wails, holding the lamb tighter to her chest, “no! lamby!” she exclaims, and he curses himself for passing along his theatrics to his baby girl. his eyes fall shut and he reaches inward for his last semblance of patience, taking a big inhale. a sigh falls from his lips on the exhale, and that’s when it hits him. lamby is her baby, he’d be just as upset if, god forbid, he didn’t know where his baby was all day.

“listen, honey,” he states, ready to strike a deal, “if you give lamby to daddy, he can take her to work!” her big, brown eyes soften at this, and his mirror hers exactly, “yeah! i’ll take good care of her, hm? i promise,” he rubs her little belly with both hands, which has made her giggle every time since she could walk. this time proves to be no different, a tiny little giggle breaking through her blubbers.

relief floods his chest like sunlight pouring through a window, “i promise, okay baby?” he holds out his hands, brow stern but eyes soft, “but you gotta give lamby to me now, okay? then you can go inside and see miss sarah,” he bribes her with the mention of her favorite daycare teacher, and her sad eyes light up at her name. her chubby hands place lamby in spencer’s, but not before she gives her a goodbye kiss. he’s next, of course, his long arms capturing her tiny frame in a protective hug against his chest, “love you, sweet girl,” he murmurs against her temple.

“love you, daddy!” she exclaims over her shoulder as she takes off in a blast, little feet pattering up the porch steps to miss sarah like she wasn’t just crying her eyes out mere seconds ago.

spencer’s late to work by 23 minutes and 14 seconds. he’d texted his wife, informing her of his unfortunate timing, before taking off in the beamer she’d gotten him for his birthday. it was a ridiculous, congratulatory gift for the new skill he’d adopted in fatherhood. his wife had been in the office early that morning with penelope, finalizing analytical details on the case they just wrapped up. therefore, she quirks a brow at the familiar plushie, now in his own vice grip. he rhythmically inhales and exhales, his eyes falling shut as he leans over to rest two closed fists on his desk, head hanging low.

he perks up when he feels a loving hand caress the small of his back, the smell of coffee wafting up his nose, “got you your favorite,” his sweet wife whispers in his ear, pecking him on his flushed cheek after.

she nearly hangs on him, both her hands piled on one shoulder as she drapes herself along his side. her sweet floral scent intoxicates him, the same way it did the first day they met, blissfully overtaking his senses.

he marvels at how she can still manage to understand his wild mind, after all these years, she still knows exactly what he needs, when he needs it. he’s not sure anyone’s ever understood him so deeply, so purely. he can only hope his love makes up for a fraction of hers, the sweetest privilege granted to him in this life.

he takes a big sip, notes of cinnamon and vanilla washing over his tongue, the heat tickling his throat, “thank you,” he whispers, leaning in to peck her gently on the lips.

“whatchya got there, loverboy?” derek teases him, ruffling his hair as he nods towards lamby, now sat upright at his computer.

he can see his wife shift in curiosity out of his peripheral, so he moves his coffee to his left hand, snaking his right around her waist, pulling her in to kiss her temple before he begins.

“well, this is lamby,” he gestures to the stuffed toy with his coffee cup right as emily and jj enter the bullpen, “the poor baby girl couldn’t bring her into daycare today, and she was crushed, just absolutely wailing. she wouldn’t leave her with me unless i promised to take good care of her at work,” he lifted his brow in the most serious manner, a small smirk aimed at his soft smiling wife.

“aww, poor baby,” she frowns, and he kisses it off, quick but loving all the same.

“no way…and you actually did it?” derek chuckles in disbelief.

“of course i did! i wasn’t gonna lie to my child!” spencer insists earnestly, spurring on derek’s teasing even further.

emily laughs with him, but jj shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest, “laugh all you want, i’d do the same thing,” she nods towards him, and he thanks her for her vindication.

the sweet chime of his wife’s laughter rings in his ear, and a smile spreads across his lips. she kisses it off this time.

“shoo, lovebirds!” rossi exclaims, and the flapping of paper pulls spencer’s lips away from hers, “it’s catch up day, and you both have reports that were expected on hotch’s desk weeks ago. let’s go!” he lightly taps a manila file on spencer’s desk, effectively cutting through his wife-induced haze. his gaze flits to hotch’s office momentarily, hotch sporting a knowing smile as he completed his own paperwork, “reports…” rossi points at spencer with a raised brow before returning back to his office.

lamby ends up spending her whole day with spencer. she accompanies him to the coffee machine, to the filing cabinets, to the conference room for meetings. he documents all of this, of course, snapping pictures with his phone of the little lamb ‘holding’ a coffee mug or a file.

throughout the day, his coworkers become more and more integrated in these photographs. it starts with derek posing with her at his desk. in one of them, derek’s fingers pinch the tiny front legs and use them to type on his computer. another shows him and lamby hunched over a case file, a pensive look on derek’s face.

it graduates to emily and jj taking her to the filing cabinets, spencer snapping shots of the girls holding lamby, blowing kisses to sweet diana, and helping lamby put files away. she ends up in the conference room because of penelope, who snatched her from rossi, who was in the middle of doing his crossword with her.

hotch even joins in at that point, setting lamby up on his laptop, working with her to finish a report of his own. spencer can’t remember the last time he spent the entire work day laughing, but leave it to diana reid to work a miracle. he spends the entire day reveling in the love of his wife, the care from his team. hotch lets both of them go home together early, and they link pinkies the entire way down to the parking garage, parting ways at their cars.

spencer holds on to her hand as she goes to walk away, spinning her back to him. his free hand grips her waist as she collides into his chest, his lips crashing down onto hers. they’re soft and glossy, and they move against his like a dream. her nails scrape the nape of his neck and he shudders, deepening the kiss before pulling away just as fast.

“i’ll see you at home,” he breathes, desperately heaving to catch his breath. her smile warms his soul like the sun.

you pull up in your driveway just behind spencer, the porch light of your virginian townhome aglow. your parents helped you and spencer relocate when you’d unexpectedly gotten pregnant 3 years ago, lucking out in a suburb close to quantico, one with great schools, parks, and libraries. it seems like just yesterday you and spencer were deciding that those three aspects were essential in choosing where to start your family.

you grin at him as he exits his car, hair shaggy, eyes tired, smile bright. you extend your hand to him, walking through the threshold together. the second you enter, the patter of little feet carries from down the hall, getting louder with each step.

“sweet diana!” you exclaim as she runs into your arms, a sweet ‘mommy!’ tumbling from her lips as you scoop her up.

“i heard you had a rough morning, sweet girl!” you say, rubbing her tummy with your palm. she just shrugs, plopping her thumb between her lips and staring at you with wide eyes.

“i miss lamby,” she murmurs around her thumb, but before she can get too sad, spencer’s there to save the day, as always.

you gasp as spencer squats next to you, nuzzling the stuffed toy into her belly, “who is it?!” you ask as if you’d seen the queen, jaw hanging open as you watch your baby girl’s eyes light up.

“it’s lamby!!” she exclaims, yanking it from her dad’s hands. she hugs it tight against her chest as if it were her own baby, and a wave of deja vu washes over you. watching her is like looking in a mirror of your past, blended together in creation of this beautiful being.

“daddy took such good care of lamby for you today, sweet girl,” you coo, rubbing your hand gently up and down her back, “we all had so much fun with her today at work, do you want to see some pictures?” she nods enthusiastically at this, and her and spencer make their way over to the couch.

you join them after you walked your mom out, thanking and hugging her for picking up diana at daycare. you and spencer settle in on either side of baby diana, arms looped around each other as your daughter snuggles between you. spencer pulls out his phone and scrolls to the first photo of the day, lamby with his mug by the coffee pot.

“lamby! you’re so silly!” she throws her head back in a cackle, “lamby drink coffee!” she squeals, throwing her chubby hands up over her face in hysterics. it’s infectious, you and spencer shaking with laughter around her.

“lamby wif uncle derek!” she shrieks when she sees the (many) photos of derek with the toy, snuggling it, feeding it, working with it. she loves them all, of course.

her favorites are the ones with emily, jj, and penelope. she loves her aunties so much, she was not expecting a crossover of her favorite people with her beloved toy. her eyes go wide at the ones of lamby in the conference room, “lamby working!” she exclaims, pointing a little finger at spencer’s phone, “wif uncle hotch!” her eyes go wide at the photo of lamby on aaron’s work laptop, working very hard to help him solve the case.

aaron became uncle hotch out of her sheer desperation to be just like mommy and daddy, who answer all their work calls from him with a succinct, “hotch?” she slowly begun parroting you, until uncle aaron was no more. she struggles just slightly with the double h, so it always comes out ‘uncle ‘otch!’ it makes you and spencer laugh every time.

you do so now, locking soft eyes with your husband as you giggle. adoration seeps through you, every inch of your skin warm.

“yeah!” spencer responds, kissing her temple with a pronounced ‘mwah’, “lamby worked so hard today, sweet baby, she helped us solve lots of cases!” he coos, and your heart melts at the sight.

you chuckle in disbelief, unaware of exactly how you got this lucky. you wish to burn this moment into your brain forever- the warmth of spencer’s arms around you as you cuddle your baby girl, the soft strawberry scent of her shampoo mixed with spencer’s woodsy aftershave, his soft voice as he coos to the young girl that he kept her promise, of course he did. you allow your eyes to fall shut for a brief moment, soaking in the love you’ve been so generously afforded.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction

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cherubkissesx · 20 days ago

Text

only angel

pairing: bau!f reader x spencer reid

summary: in which reader is part of the bau and has to go undercover as an exotic dancer in order to catch the unsub. but the reader has been hiding lots of tattoos underneath her seemingly innocent facade. spencer goes to readers hotel room afterwards after holding in his feelings for so long.

warnings: violence, smut, oral (f receiving) unprotected p in v (wrap it up!!!!)

a/n: hey guys i hope you enjoy this quick little one shot!! this is inspired by the song only angel by harry styles :) also this is my first attempt at writing smut so i hope this good lmao

this is the song i imagined playing in the club lol

you and team gathered into the conference room in the local police station to go over the case you were all assigned to once again. the unsub had been killing exotic dancers and the amount of overkill was increasing with each body that was getting discovered.

“this unsub is progressing at rapid speed, we keep missing him each time we go out into the field. we have no other option but to send someone to go undercover as one of the dancers.” hotch said sighing.

everyone’s heads immediately turned round to you. jj was a mom and couldn’t risk it, emily was deemed “too old” to be a dancer but you were the youngest.

“you’re the only right person for this, y/n.” emily said. “i don’t want to mess it up what if im not convincing enough?” you questioned as you felt your face flush. “you’ll do great!” penelope chimed in.

“if you really don’t feel comfortable we can find someone else.” hotch said not pressuring you. “no.. no it’s fine.” you smiled shakily and he nodded.

****

“i feel so weird.” you said to emily as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. your hair was curled, you felt like you had a ton of makeup on, and you were wearing a shimmery pink bralette and booty shorts your tattoos that you had been hiding on full display.

“you look hot.” emily reassured. “also your tattoos are great, i didn’t know you had all of these.” emily said her eyes trailing up and down your body. you had a tiger tattoo on your stomach and a big flower tattoo down your spine. “thank you” you blushed.

emily had fixed your earpiece for you so your team could hear everything you were saying.

“are you ready?” emily asked and you nodded and walked out. you noticed all your team situated at different points in the bar. you strutted confidently up to the stage.

you weren’t much of a dancer but you thought may aswell give it your all, and thats exactly what you did. you copied all the other dancers and eventually got caught up in doing it and realised how easy it was as your hips swayed to the music. you had taken some pole dancing classes in the past so you decided to get on the pole and try it again and you were surprised when you noticed you hadn’t forgotten the skill.

your eyes darted around the room to look for your team and saw them all staring back at you with wide eyes, you chuckled to yourself.

you scanned the room for the unsub and you finally zeroed in on him. you recognised him immediately from the sketch that a surviving victim had provided. “i see him.” you whispered. your team was about to approach him to arrest him. “hold off. i have a plan” you said again and you saw your team looking confused.

you met your unsubs eyes and you made a motion with your finger indicating for him to follow you.

your set was over so you sauntered off stage to go to the back. “y/n someone wants to see you” the club manager said who was in on your plan to catch the unsub.

you walked to the back to where sure enough the unsub was sitting on a couch waiting for you.

“oh! hey” you smiled sweetly. “hello darling, i saw you dancing up on that stage and had to come meet you personally, you were phenomenal” the unsub said. “thank you” you smiled.

“what’s your name?” he asked. you didn’t want to give him your real name so you gave him a fake one. “angel.” you lied. “very fitting.” he said noticing the angel tattoo on your thigh.

“how much money would it cost me for me to have sex with you?” the unsub said sickly now practically pinning you to the wall. “i’m sorry but i don’t have sex with customers” you said a bit shakily. “what if i beg?” the unsub said now grabbing your hand and pinning it above your head. “i said no!” you said pushing him off you.

“bitch!” the unsub said angrily and he grabbed your hair and bashed your face into the wall. you felt blood trickling down your nose.

“fbi put your hands up!” derek said as him and the rest of the team burst into the room. “are you okay?” spencer said immediately rushing to you as your team arrested the unsub. “i will be” you smiled as you tried to catch your breath.

“i’m taking you to get checked over” spencer said putting his arm around your shoulder towards the ambulance. “spencer im fine” you said trying to reassure him to which he just stared at you disbelievingly. “fine” you chuckled.

“here” spencer said giving you his jacket to put over yourself as it was freezing. “will you stay with me? just until i’m finished being checked over” you asked nervously and you saw spencer’s whole face soften. “of course” he said sitting down next to you.

once you were checked over you and spencer both made your way over to the rest of the team. “everyone great work today, especially you y/n. without you who knows if we would’ve caught this unsub” hotch said. “thank you sir” you blushed.

“since it’s late why don’t we all go back to the hotel room and get some rest and leave in the morning” hotch offered. “agreed” jj said and you and the rest of the team nodded.

“i didn’t know you had tattoos y/n?” derek said when you were all walking up to each of your rooms. “you didn’t ask” you chuckled. “and we all thought you were the innocent one” derek said.

****

you were about to shower when you heard a knock at your hotel door. you looked at the time to see that it was 3 in the morning and wondered who would be calling at this time.

“spencer! hi” you said in shock when you opened the door. “come in” you said stepping to the side to let him in.

“are you alright?” you asked subtly wrapping your arms around yourself when he kept staring at you and not saying anything. “i can’t stop thinking about you” spencer said suddenly which made you stop in your tracks.

you had had the most hopeless crush on spencer since your first day at the bau but never thought those feelings would be reciprocated.

“and it wasn’t just because of today but i’ve liked you for a long time and i think about you all the time. you looked so breathtaking today” spencer said moving closer to you. “those dance moves… fuck it was hot” spencer said his eyes darkening.

“say something y/n” spencer practically demanded. “i feel the same way spencer, and i have for a long time now” you said feeling quite breathless as you stared at his lips.

spencer looked into your eyes for a little while before eventually cupping your face and bringing his lips down onto yours. his lips felt soft and pillowy and you immediately melted into his touch.

“let me make you feel good” spencer begged. “do it” you nodded. “let’s get this off you” spencer said helping you take off your outfit until you were naked and you helped take off spencer’s clothes.

“so fucking beautiful” spencer said taking you all in. “can i?” spencer’s asked as he spread your legs apart to go inbetween them. “please” you sighed.

he dove his head down to your pussy and began eating you out. his tongue hitting your clit just right. “oh fuck!” you screamed out, your hands finding his hair and pulling on it tight.

you felt him smile against your pussy as you tugged his hair tighter. spencer’s tongue now began to move at rapid speed to make you cum. “spencer im gonna cum!” you shouted out. “let go for me baby” spencer reassured and you did.

spencer lapped up your juices onto his tongue. “you taste so sweet baby” spencer said leaning down to kiss you.

spencer kissed your “angel” tattoo and trailed his tongue up your tiger tattoo and the rest of your body making you wriggle until he got to your mouth and kissed you ferociously.

spencer knelt down on his knees and lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in slowly. “is this okay?” he said wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting you. “you can move” you reassured and spencer began going in and out of you at a steady pace. you grinded up against him to get him to hit deeper. “faster!” you demanded and he obeyed.

“right there” you sighed as he hit your g spot. spencer’s head found its way to rest into the crook of your neck to hit deeper into you. “oh my god” spencer said as you ground yourself up against him.

your nails dug into his back as you trailed your nails up and down. that pain only made spencer go faster and now your head was hitting off of the headboard. spencer leaned down to kiss the top of your head as a form of an apology.

“i’m gonna cum” you shouted out as you dug your fingers into spencer’s curls. “so am i” spencer said out of breath.

you clenched around spencer’s which sent him over the edge as he pounded even faster, the only sound that could be heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping together. spencer felt you let go as he did at the same time and you both rode out your orgasms.

spencer stayed inside you for a little longer and kissed you on the lips tenderly. he pulled out to flop down beside you and you whined at the feeling of him pulling out.

“that was…” spencer said at a lose for words. “out of this world?” you joked. “yeah..” he said rolling over to kiss you again. “been meaning to get that out my system for years” you smiled at him and he agreed.

“sorry about your back that’s going to leave a very big mark….” you apologised as you looked at his back which was covered in deep red scratches. “don’t worry about it, it was worth it” he chuckled.

“i was about to shower before you got here…. do you want to join me?” you asked innocently as you got up from the bed. “yes!” spencer said greedily as you laughed and walked to the bathroom together.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid #bau x reader #female reader #Spotify

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pathologicalreid · 9 months ago

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separation anxiety | S.R.

spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.

Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.

Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.

You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.

Derek Morgan: Got a sec?

It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.

So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.

Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.

You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.

Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.

Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.

Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.

You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.

Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”

Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”

You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”

Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.

“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”

As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.

Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.

Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”

“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”

You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”

“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.

Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”

Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”

You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.

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everythingne · 2 months ago

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little miss wingwoman (2) - ln4

penelope continues you meddling through you moving into lando's apartment, and saving a christmas disaster from happening.

warnings/notes: implied complicated pregnancy for kelly, most are complicated as far as i've seen (i dont have kids so. dont yell at me.), also implied family tensions for the reader, i used this recipe for the pasta they cook!! ignore im posting christmas fics after christmas i do not care <3

(prev | next)

Penelope gets to enact her first part of the plan a few days later. A small post-season dinner, just some drivers Max had been playing padel with earlier swinging by to help out Max with some baby stuff. You are home, of course, helping Kelly with some organization in the master bedroom.

You're struggling with one of the big thick boxes for toys, trying to build a shelf you'll have the boys carry into the room later. Most of the shelf was able to be paired together by hand, but a few screws at the end make you huff when you realize Max had taken the screwdriver.

Getting up, you wander to the bedroom where Penelope is watching the boys attempt to set up both the crib and the little handmade wooden mobile above it. Leaning on the doorway, your eyes naturally fall to Lando who is biting his tongue poking out of his lips in focus as Max curses over the screw being stripped.

Seemingly again, based on Charles' quick French quip as he digs in a box to find another screw.

"You're having about as much luck as we are." You finally find your voice, your eyes not leaving Lando's as he perks up, his tongue darting back inside as a rose dusts across his cheeks. Max sighs and hands you the screwdriver and you kneel down, jamming it in like a hammer until you basically brute force the screw into it's hole.

"And, if you don't need this, I'll be stealing it. I'm almost done with the bookshelves, we'll just have to secure them to the wall after."

"Yeah, just pull it in when you're done." Max says, thanking you for getting the screw in, before you're off to the other bedroom. Penelope stays behind for a bit, peeking into the room once or twice as you sit back down on the floor to finish the shelving.

It takes until you're on the last drawer for her to ask--

"Do you like Lando?" Penelope lingers in the doorway, and you just nod, eyebrows knitting as you get the loose screws to finally lock into place. You can hear Max and Charles celebrating getting something to work in the other room, Lando's laughter coming closer down the hall with his soft socked footsteps.

"I think Lando likes you." Penelope says with a matter of fact tone that makes you life your head, and Kelly tuts out a laugh, waving Penelope over. The girl happy smiles and runs over to hug a very sleepy Kelly, giving her mom's stomach a little kiss while she's at it.

"P, they're friends. Friends like each other." Kelly smiles, running a hand through her mini-me's hair, "you like all your friends, right?"

"But Mommy," Penelope scowls, climbing up to stand on the bed so she can lean into her mothers ear to whisper. You look down then, finishing up the last of the screws with a triumphant whistled sigh, overshadowed by Kelly's soft laughter.

"I'm being serious! I studied, and asked Maxie, and my teacher!" Penelope scowls, crossing her arms at her mother and just earning a soft laugh in reply. Looking over, you see Lando lingering in the doorway, offering you a smile as his hand to help you up.

"Pen said you need help moving this?" He asks softly, almost nervously, after helping to bring you to your feet with a warm hand in yours and resting on your bicep. You smile and nod, words failing on your lips. Your hand lingering in his longer than necessary, before you hear Penelope whispering to Kelly and you step back.

"Please," You say, smiling at the dimples that appear on his cheeks with his curvy lipped smile, "It's not heavy, just long. Max has the wall bolts in the nursery, so he can finish it in there."

"Sounds good to me, I'll get this side..." Lando walks off, and as you two move the shelves out of the master bedroom to the nursery, you cant help but laugh as the whole thing is so awkward to shuffle around. Once you get it out, Kelly lets out a cheer, and you look back to see Penelope wink.

It's been a few days, and while Lando's off on a ski trip with Quadrant, he gives you free reign of his apartment since you really only have clothes to move in since all of your old stuff is between boxes in your childhood home and two or three boxes you bring down from Max's apartment. Lando leaves to catch his flight with a slightly nervous smile, telling you to make it feel homey, if possible. So after a Max sponsored trip to the stores, you fill the backseats of the Porsche Lando let you borrow from him with just about everything. New pots and pans to replace his old stained ones, proper cleaning supplies, and plenty of house decor.

You'd driven into France to go shopping for the bigger items, planning for some little furniture bits to be shipped around the holidays. Everything you text Lando about buying is met with enthusiastic pleases and thank yous and probably a concerning amount of money wired into your account via Venmo.

You're unloading as much as you can into the apartment, taking probably far too many trips up the elevator, when Lando calls you as you're in the midst of restocking his fridge with actual food.

"I hope this isn't going to ruin your day," He opens with and you feel dread fill your stomach at his nervous tone, because with Lando, it could, “my mom asked if I could host christmas this year… and I kinda forgot I said yes..."

"Lando." You deadpan, looking at the bare apartment, "oh my god."

"Listen! Consider this payback for the rent or something! She asked me before Miami, how was I supposed to remember after that weekend!" He groans and you cant help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat as you look back at all the things you'd bought.

"You have to help me not make this a horrid mess, I'd never live it down!" Lando laments, his voice pitching higher, "I'm finishing up with Quadrant early, and I'll be home soon after. I've got them all a hotel room, so we at least don't have to worry about that. But we need... well, to make my apartment look lived in."

"I got some stuff already, as you know, but I don't have to see Penelope until tomorrow so I can head back out to the shops--"

"An extra of my credit card is in my desk drawer. Consider it my gift," He stammers, "Shit, my Ma is gonna kill me if she realizes I forgot."

You laugh softly, "Listen, when are you gonna get home?"

"Tomorrow morning, maybe?" His tone is light, but the hint of panic in his tone makes you feel a little soft.

"Today, I'll get what I already bought in the house and set up. Tomorrow, when you get home, we'll figure out what else we need." You say softly and Lando thanks you profusely, promising to buy you a bottle of whatever liquor you want for your troubles, and then he ends the call. Leaving you standing in the kitchen with a soft sigh and laughter. The whole situation was just... very Lando.

It's not like you're gonna go home for Christmas.

The next day, Lando comes home to your changes. Throw blankets, pillows, pictures his mother had gifted him on the wall after forever. You're in the middle of making lunch when he stumbles in, yanking his suitcase along with him in a less than graceful fashion. You watch as his eyes widen at the little table and shoe rack in the entryway, the carpet that leads into the main area where the kitchen and living room are. The lamps that you've gotten to warm the lighting, the new dishes, the little knick knacks you must've found in a box or two in the spare room you'd set up. You've even taken all his helmets out of their cases on the floor and neatly displayed them in the case his Dad had built for him forever ago, the shelves to expand it resting on the wall besides the case.

It's... it's a damn home.

"Hey," Lando smiles as he walks in, finally seeing you in the kitchen. You blush, looking down as you realize he'd caught you watching his sweet reaction. The way you fit so nicely in his home makes something twist in his head, making him feel oddly warm, bubbly in his chest, as you smile.

"Hey yourself," You chime back as you glance up, "do you want a sandwich?"

"Sure." He says, "You... made this place really nice. I'm impressed."

"Thank you, here, grab a plate..." You smile and begin listing new things you wanna do, build the new shelves, put a christmas tree in the middle of the big bay windows in his living room, maybe some stockings under the tv, and of course string lights all over. You contemplate some cute little knick knacks on the shelves you've put up, oh! Some lights inside the shelves for his helmets to be shown off, too.

You rattle ideas all the way through finishing his food, and you settle the plates down. Luckily for Lando, you give him some gift ideas too. Things you'd seen while out at the shops, and you thankfully know most of the drivers in Monaco well enough to have an idea or two of what to get them, and you remind him to buy gifts for his parents and siblings and extended family as you set a simple sandwich and chips down in front of Lando.

Lando just blinks before sighing happily, "You're literally perfect."

It makes you nearly choke on your sandwich. And he stammers with red cheeks, "Well, you are, but I mean--I mean like... you're exactly the type of person someone who doesn't really know how to adult needs. You've got everything all figured out, y'know!"

"I'm a nanny," You deadpan, "And Kelly didn't really know much when I moved in with her when Pen was a baby. And Max's apartment... it was close to yours. Except, at least, he knew how to live like an adult and not have expired food."

Lando shrieks out a "Hey!" That makes you both laugh, and his laughter melts into yours. It all feels so natural, the way you both just stand there grinning over little sandwiches.

Hours later, after ridiculous amounts of shopping, and take-out dinner, you get to setting up the Hallmark movie you plan to turn his house into. It really doesn't take long for you and Lando to fall into a rhythm, and by the time his pauses on the couch turn into him falling asleep on the couch, you're almost done. You finish up the tree, shoving the gifts you'd bought for the Verstappen-Piquets underneath, before turning to Lando.

"Lando," you whisper, shaking his shoulder, "Hey..."

He stirs, murmuring something intelligible with a pout that almost makes you giggle. It takes another few calls of his name to coax him awake long enough to at least get him in bed. Even if he's still in jeans, you happy to save his back from the horror of sleeping sitting up like you'd done once or twice.

The next morning, Lando helps you make breakfast and with Christmas music and movies playing for some background noise, you pretty much finish up the entire apartment within the day. Lando leaves around six to get some presents for his sisters, and ends up video calling you to ask about jewelry. He gets Flo a beautiful little silver horse necklace, with a little custom plate with her horses name on the back, and after an instagram peruse you determine Cisca should get something bold in gold, and he settles on a nice piece of earrings for her. Oliver is a bit harder, so you let him call his Mom to find ideas while you finish up cleaning.

And when he comes home, you teach Lando how to wrap his gifts, somehow ending up in a big plaster for a cut he gets on his hand and tape stuck in your hair.

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, kellypiquet, and others...

yourusername: everyone say thanks max and kelly for letting me take a week off so i could move into this random guys apt and make it look like a hallmark movie

tagged: landonorris

maxverstappen: you've done the unthinkable, make lando not live like a child

user: THEY LIVE TOGETHER??

kellypiquet: i need the skill you possess to make everything magical

user1: wait why is yn living with lando and not max??? is she not penelope's nanny??

-- yourusername: i still am her nanny dw!! with baby lion on the way I got evicted (rightfully), and lando lives in the same building and had an extra room he offered :)

-- user2: wait thats so cute

-- user3: romcom moment

maxfewtrell: THATS HIS APARTMENT?

-- yourusername: yes, you're welcome

landonorris: i feel a little attacked right now

-- yourusername: don't even try to get pity points, you had month old cheese

-- landonorris: in my defense i forgot it was there

-- yourusername: IT WAS MOLDY.

-- user4: prayers for yn

On the 22nd, you get to watch Penelope for the day since Max is finishing up meetings before his break for the holidays and Kelly's mother is over considering she's feeling quite swollen and ill. You'd been there since the beginning, with the issues and the pain. Max and Kelly had struggles, and you had taken Penelope out plenty of times for days when the two just needed a breath.

Watching Penelope so Kelly can go to an emergency appointment doesn't feel new, but it makes you so anxious.

So you and Lando have her come down to your apartment, giving Kelly a much longer hug than usual and wiping away her stressed tears as Lando shows Penelope the new decorations in the apartment.

"It'll be fine." You say softly and she nods, giving you one more tight hug before her mother brings her along. Shutting the door behind you, the way Lando holds Penelope up so she can place the star on the tree is so undoubtedly domestic to you it makes you feel warm as you shut the door.

"Penny," You call, and her head whips around as you ask, "Did Kelly make you anything for dinner?"

Lando pops Penelope down on the floor and then turns back to straighten the star. Penelope runs to give you a hug, clinging to your legs as she announces that no, she didn't get dinner-- and, she wants to cook the 'spiced' pasta with you, Lando tilts his head as he slowly makes his way over in his sweats.

"And you!" Penelope grabs Lando's hand, dragging him the rest of the way into the kitchen, "Please Yn! Please?!"

"You're sure you want the spicy pasta? 'Cause half the time I end up eating all of it and ordering you food." You place your hands on your hips, and when Penelope all but cries for it, you agree. The 'spicy pasta' is a normal corkscrew pasta with a gochujang based sauce. You typically make it a lot hotter, but because both Lando and Penelope don't like spice as much you change the plan.

Penelope helps Lando salt the almost boiling water and chop up the shallots while you root through the pantry, eventually finding all the ingredients. You'd bought them a week ago, when Lando hadn't been home, and made it for dinner so you knew you had everything. Dragging a chair over, you let Penelope jump up to sauté the shallots, onions, and garlic in butter and olive oil with Lando's supervision while you gather some spices.

"Here, P, let me get in there." You say softly, and miss Penelope's knowing smirk as she jumps down and scoots the chair out of the way. You begin to pop down a smaller scoop of gochujang than usual, whilst Lando watches curiously.

"Wait so, what is this red stuff?" He asks, grabbing the container once you close it. As you infuse the ingredients, you softly explain.

"It's gochujang," You look over to Lando to find him already intently watching you, "it's like a Korean fermented, spicy, savory paste. I used to cook a lot with my first family I worked for in London, and they loved Korean food."

Lando nodded, "Have you always been a nanny?"

"I was an Au Pair first, like a live in babysitter while I was in secondary school. But I started to nanny Penelope right around when she was born and haven't left." You look behind you, as if expecting to see Penelope, but she's gone. You and Lando share a look, almost as if saying ' of course she ran off' before he chuckles softly.

You turn back to the pan and nod, "Lando, can you grab me the green bottle next to you?"

He picks it up as you lower the heat, and your cold hands brush his warm ones as your take the bottle. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you pour a little bit of the soju in, capping it, and stirring again until it all thickens up while Lando drains the pasta noodles. He stands besides you as you let him stir slowly as you add in half and half and parmesan cheese until it's make a thick sauce.

Dipping a noodle in to taste, Lando groans, "this is actually so good."

"It's my favorite," You smile, "A good old comfort dish, since I don't have any from my family."

Lando nods and helps you add the pasta to the sauce, mix it up, and set it in three bowls. Settling down to eat in the kitchen, you watch as Lando and Penelope chat. Smiling softly, you rest your head on your hand, giggling along with Penelope's stories from dance class, ignoring the way Lando's smile makes your chest tighten.

After dinner, Penelope asks to watch the live action Cinderella. You've seen it with her in the past, so you have no issue turning it on as Lando finds a little bit of candy for Penelope to eat during the movie--like a dessert.

Once the three of you settle down, Penelope forces you three to share a blanket and you end up between her and Lando on the couch. The beginning of the movie rolls by, but soon enough Penelope is asleep in your lap, leaving just you and Lando far too close for comfort.

But it grows comforting as the movie picks up, and by the time Cinderella has met her Prince, Lando's shifted to allow you to lean against him.

Maybe watching a romantic movie with a guy who makes you flutter, if even you're not sure why, isn't the best idea because the both of you catch each other's gaze more than once. Biting lips to hide smiles and thanking the dark lights for hiding you blush.

Luckily, Penelope wakes up before the end of the movie, and Kelly comes back soon after the movie ends. You help Penelope pack up while Lando cleans up the apartment, and when you go to drop Penelope off, your eyes catching Lando's makes heat rush to your face.

Shit.

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#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #f1 smau #formula one fic #lando norris au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n

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rie-092 · 2 months ago

Note

Hi, here I reader an he Creep lycris and (i hopenits okay 2 characters) but I love the idea of the Eclarcks vrothers being ivsessed woth Penelope's maid! Reader.

And they tried to get notice, in a bad or good way. Reader takes care and actually loves Penelope and just want her mistress tk be happy uu

EVENT'S ENTRY OO2 : CREEP

[ yandere! eckhart brothers ]

note: here's the link of the event (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)!

let's start with derrick. he was the first one who noticed you. let's just say that you and him was childhood friends since you started working in the eckhart estate since you were a child.

at first, to be honest. derrick finds you annoying. but seeing you being happy and friendly towards his little sister. it struck something inside him.

and that was when he realized, ah, damn you. he was falling hard.

expect that derrick, despite of being prideful, will be very needy. hell, you're not even lovers but he will start demanding for your attention.

he will start calling for you everyday, despite of being busy with your work. and what's his reason? simple, because he wanted to ‘play’ with you.

well, technically you guys just spend times while reading books or drinking teas. but for derrick it was everything.

and that was when reynold eckhart entered the scene.

unlike his calm and collected older brother, reynold was fucking cute, i mean, a mess when he's in front of you.

it all started with a small crush and that was when he started following you around like a puppy. dude, this guy really loves headpats and compliments. so you better shower him with compliments!

he likes playing with you and yvonne! but it's just annoying to have derrick playing the dad role while you play the mom role when yvonne wants to play house.

since they were children. they haven't really realized that their affection for you were— how will i describe it? darker? or unhinge?

derrick was the calm and calculated one while reynold was the violent and cranky one. to be honest, they are not really jealous to each other. sure, they want your attention for themselves but— nah, nah, in derrick's eyes, reynold was too childish to be your type. while in reynold's eyes, his brother is too sophisticated to fall for you.

expect that they will be more handful when yvonne disappeared. they will be more clingy. because reynold wants you to comfort him while derrick was preventing you to disappear like yvonne.

and that was when penelope entered the scene. when the duke was finding a suitable maid to serve penelope. you were with derrick that time. he saw how your eyes shone as you looked at penelope.

no, no, no! he kept telling to himself that you only reacted like that because you miss yvonne. there's no way you find that thing adorable!

but the next day, he was surprised when he was informed by his father that you became penelope's personal maid. how dare her—

what about reynold? well, he doesn't really give a fuck. sure, he still hates penelope taking his sister's place on their family. but seeing you actually enjoys serving penelope.

honestly, derrick and reynold was really different when it comes to you. reynold was the soft one, heck, he won't hurt anyone or you physically and verbally if you give him the attention that he wanted. but once he saw you paying attention to anyone that is not him or derrick? you should expect to see his violent side.

while derrick is the unhinge one. he doesn't care who it was, if you don't pay any attention to him. the hell, this guy would lose it. i mean, the last time you went to the festival with your male friend. he tortured that thing in front of you (and hell, he was so close on doing that to penelope if you're not that overprotective over her).

and you? who is stuck in the middle of this two brothers who is like a ticking bomb? you only want one thing. and that is for penelope to be happy.

but unknown to you, penelope actually wants you as much as her siblings wanted you. but don't worry! she is willing to share you with reynold. but not with derrick.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ we want you to notice when we're not around, (name). ”

#manhwa x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #tw.yandere #tw. mention of torture #tw. obsession #happy 2k!#reynold eckhart #penelope eckhart #death is the only ending for a villainess #idk what else to tag #i prefer reynold over derrick #grammatical errors ahead!

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somereaderinblue · 3 months ago

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Odysseus of Troy AU

Inspired by the Warrior!Penelope AU, @maggie44paint's Malewife Menelaus AU & @theblindgoddess + DaughterOfDungeonBat's Penelope of Troy AU.

So instead of Helen, Paris chooses Odysseus, thinking he's the safer option because he's just the king of small, barren Ithaca & super smart. Baby Telemachus is also spirited away as extra leverage.

Paris thinks he's being cunning, hoping this choice can somewhat ease Athena's wrath as well.

At first, Athena is furious....but then she gives the go-ahead for 3 reasons.

Odysseus will give Paris hell.

Hera will give Paris hell.

This one is important: Penelope will give Paris hell.

Paris tells himself he's doing Penelope a favour! Now she can find another, more powerful husband & have another kid with him. Plus, she's a woman with a tiny kingdom, it's not like she'll come knocking on Troy's walls.

Newsflash: a furious Penelope comes pounding on Troy's walls with a vengeance.

(Bonus if she isn't even being backed by Ares here. Oh no, all that unstoppable rage is 100% pure Penelope.)

In Olympus, Hera & Athena are cackling and high-fiving over a bucket of popcorn. In Troy, Ody is going full Mission Impossible, being a monster (rawr rawr rawr) to Paris, mapping out servant passages, calculating how much cloth it'll take to make a long enough rope & hoarding tiny paper scraps and crumbs for bird feeding.

He goes all: Yes, I need more clothes. It's not my fault my clothes keep ripping. *wink wink*. Oh, I'm not supposed to be here? Silly me, I'm hopeless without Athena's wisdom now! Look at the cute birdie, little wolf! *slips a message onto them while his son's buried under feathers*

Athena is very proud of her master liar.

Bonus:

Hector & Ody ironically become good friends because they're both dads and loving husbands. Hector tells himself he will NOT get attached to the man who's singlehandedly screwed him, his family & Troy over......only to pat the guy's back as he sobs for the nth time over missing his wife. It's hard not to empathize with him & feel a little sorry for the kid who doesn't even remember his mom.

And maybe when Hector senses that the end is coming, he & Andromache ask Ody to take Astyanax with him. He won't have a future in Troy, but it's better than no future, period.

Thus, Penelope returns to Ithaca with her family one member bigger than before.

#epic the musical #warrior!penelope #odysseus of troy au #role swap au #paris of troy #penelope #odysseus #telemachus #hector of troy #andromache #astyanax lives au #paris: time to pull a pro gamer move #paris: why do I hear boss music?#penelope: violence is a question & my answer is yes #and yes those birds are hera's and/or athena's #idk if hector can be saved but years later ody helps astyanax track down andromache #penny & tele are ok with this bcz they understand more than anyone not being able to know your mother #also hector's sympathy for ody & tele's situation foreshadowing what will happen to his wife & son......#problematic malewife ody LET'S GOOOOO

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reidsworld · 7 months ago

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Parties

Summary: Spencer, Reader's boyfriend, gets jealous of the Readers family friend at a party.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: fake blood, fake knife and axe, Spencer being jealous, cursing, kissing, hickeys, semi-public oral sex(m receiving), face-fucking, praise/degradation, I think that's it, lmk if I missed anything! — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!!

Word Count: 1.7K+

A/N: For the readers parents house I was envisioning something like the Mikaelson mansion from TVD. The reader is described as having longer hair w/ curtain bangs! This is also my first fic so sorry if its bad lmaoo

Masterlist

Walking onto the jet, you sat next to Penelope, across from Spencer. This case had been a hard one, Hotch had Penelope come along as you needed all hands on deck.

ping!

You sigh taking out your phone to see a text from your mom.

Mother Call me, please.

"What's wrong, Sweets?" Penny asks, concern lacing her tone.

"Nothing, my mom is just trying to call me and I really don't want to deal with her right now." You reply with a groan. You click on your Mothers profile, hitting the call button. She picks up right away.

"Sweetie, let your team that they're invited to this year's Halloween party. Your father and I agreed on the Friday- the 25th, but we would appreciate your input on the date. It starts at 8 PM" she says into the line.

"Alright, the 25th sounds good. If we have a case I might not be able to come," you say with a fake-disappointed tone, praying that a case came up on the day of the party.

"Your father and I are excited to see you so please try to be there."

"Well I can't really control when serial killers decide to strike but you know, I'll try!"

Sighing, your Mother speaks, "Don't be like that honey, your father and I are very excited to see you. If it's any encouragement to come, Julius will be there!"

"Alright fine, I'll try my hardest to be there." you say, smiling at the name.

You exchange 'goodbye's' and 'I love you's' with each other before you hang up.

“Who’s Julius?” Morgan asks with a smirk, drawing your attention to rest of the team who’s staring at you. Spencer couldn't help but feel jealous at the way you smiled at this ‘Julius’ person.

“How did you-? And you’ll meet him at the Halloween party my parents are having on the Friday 25th at 8 PM. No extremely scandalous costumes or my parents will probably never invite you guys back.” You say with a laugh.

Luckily, on the day of the party there was no case. Even so, you had asked Hotch to get off early as you needed to get ready for the party and be there early, as per your parent's request.

Once he agreed, you rushed home and showered before getting ready. You wore a black velvet strapless body-con dress that cut mid-thigh. You had fishnet stockings and black gloves that reached just below your elbows. There was a knife strapped to your leg as well. You had your hair down, styled with curtain bangs.

Once you finished getting changed, you put on dark red lipstick, mascara, and did cat eye eyeliner. Finally, to complete the look, you grabbed the scream mask and rested it to sit securely on top of your head as if you had pulled it up to reveal your face.

You grabbed a small black handbag and put on some Doc Martens, heading out the door to your parents mansion.

Once you got there, their mansions was decked out with Halloween decorations. You parked your car in the garage and went inside.

"Y/N, sweetie, we missed you so much!" Your mother greeted as her and your father hugged you.

"I missed you guys too. And I love the costumes." You said when you pulled away from the hug, referring to their matching Gomez and Morticia Addams costumes.

"Thank you," your father smiled.

It was 8:45 and most of the guests had arrived, so you decided to go and mingle.

You were standing by the food when you heard a voice come from behind you.

"You look good, baby," Spencer said, giving you a kiss on your temple. You looked up at him. He held a fake bloody axe in the one hand and he was wearing a suit with a clear rain coat on top of it. He had his hair slicked back and fake blood splatter covered his face.

"Thank you, you make a hot Patrick Bateman," you winked.

"Well hello gorgeous." You turned to see someone that you hadn't seen in years.

"Julius! Hi, oh my gosh, don’t you look handsome. It's so good to see you." You smiled, hugging him. He was dressed in a orange jump suit with handcuffs on one hand. When he pulled away, you could see him check you out.

"It's good to see you too, love," He grinned.

Spencer would deny being jealous of how low Julius had his hand on your back, of how you smiled and hugged him. But who was he kidding, he was incredibly jealous. So, he stepped forward, wrapping an arm around you, smirking.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me, baby?"

You smiled, knowing exactly what Spencer was doing, "Spencer, this is Julius. Julius, this is my boyfriend Spencer."

Julius stuck his hand out for Spencer to shake. "I don't shake hands, too many germs. But it's nice to meet you," Spencer said, leaving Julius hanging.

"I'll be back, Spence, I gotta go to the washroom."

With that you walked off into a hallway, Spencer following quickly behind you. When he caught up, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the laundry room, locking the door behind you.

“Spencer what are you—”

Your words were cut off as he pushed you up against the door, smashing his lips on yours. His hands roaming all over your body as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it and earning a soft groan from his lips.

He tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, making you moan, before breaking the kiss moving his lips down your neck. He lightly bites down on a spot before soothing it with his tongue. He repeats this all over your neck, surely leaving multiple hickeys.

"Fuck, you see what you've done to me? Walking around with that pretty little outfit and flirting with some other guy who would never be able to make you feel as good as I do," he speaks with a low tone, pushing your hips against his growing bulge as his hands grope your ass.

His words make you weak at the knees, the pool in your panties building with every passing second. Spencer's eyes are filled with hunger and lust as he pulls you in for another kiss.

"On your knees," he says into the kiss, lightly pushing you down by your shoulders. You get on your knees, making quick work of taking off his pants.

You slide off his boxers, freeing his cock, precum leaking out of the tip. You grin before licking a stripe up the underside of it, making him groan.

You spread the precum around the head of his dick before taking it in your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head. Spencer's breathing picks up and you start taking more of it into your mouth.

He takes the mask off the top your head, tossing it somewhere in the room. He grips your hair, making a make-shift ponytail. You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head.

You swirl your tongue around his dick as you suck harder. He groans and throws his head back, "shit, baby." As you take more of his dick into your mouth, his hips buck, hitting the back of your throat.

You gag around his dick, making him let out a low groan. He looks down at you for approval before he starts thrusting into your mouth.

He fucks your throat, making you gag and moan around his dick. Tears begin to fall at the feeling and restriction of air flow. He pulls back a bit, letting you get some air.

Once you give him a small nod, he resumes his motions. "Fuck Y/N you take my cock like such a good little slut.”

You feel his dick begin to twitch in your mouth, indicating that he’s close. You look up at him as he pushes in and out of your mouth, moaning so loudly, you're sure people can hear you.

"I'm close," Spencer moans, sloppily thrusting into your throat, hitting the back every time. After a couple more thrusts, he pushes his dick as far into your throat as he can, making you gag. The vibrations send him over the edge. He holds your head still, sending warm ropes of cum down the back of your throat.

He pulls out and looks at you, your mascara is running and your hair is a mess, "you look so pretty like this baby." He caresses your cheek before helping you up onto your feet. He pulls his boxers and pants back on before kissing you on the forehead.

"I love you," you smile at him.

"I love you too."

He picks your mask up off the ground and hands it to you. You take him to the washroom and take out makeup wipes from the cabinet. He helps you take off your make up so you can reapply it.

You both walk out of the room and into the hallway. Just as your leaving you bump into Julius. His eyes flicker down to the dark marks scattered across your neck and Spencer smirks.

"We're leaving now, it was good to see you," You smile at him, holding Spencer's hand.

"Yeah, you too."

As soon as you got home, Spencer pulled you onto the couch to straddle him. His lips were on yours, engaging in a heated kiss. His hands roamed to the back of your dress, pulling the zipper down and sliding the dress down to your hips.

He unclipped your bra, freeing your breasts. he pulled back, looking down and grinning.

"Are you just gonna stare or are—” You were cut off by Spencer's lips on your nipple making you moan. He swirled his tongue around the bud as his other hand kneaded your other breast. You were moaning, running your hands through his hair.

Just as he was about to move to the other nipple, your phone pinged. You groaned and got off him. you walked over to your phone and unlocked it.

Mother Your car is still here...?

Y/N I'll pick it up in the morning, I went home in someone else's car

With that you put your phone down and walked over to Spencer, swaying your hips.

"Now, where were we?"

A/N: chat I’m rlly debating posting this rn. I wrote it in 2022 and now, 2 years later, I found it in my drafts. I decided to edit it and fix it up a bit. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, when I first found it, I expected it to be a lot worse lmao. lmk what you think of it!! if no one reads this I’m taking it down cause I’m kinda out of my criminal minds phase lol. Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

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luveline · 11 months ago

Note

If you're taking request for Spencer and Bombshell!reader I think it would be so incredibly adorable if they were both on the way to a case (or coming back) and their little baby Amanda was face timing them to say hi to them and the team 🥺🥺

“Video call for you, momma,” Penelope says, plonking a laptop down onto the desk in front of you, and then quickly being called away by Emily for help.

You ditch your pen immediately, nail scratching the laptop trackpad as you slide the cursor to ACCEPT.

Amanda’s face fills the screen, a shy smile like her dad’s close to the camera, her eyes almost cut off by the top of the screen.

“Amy, babe, you’re too close to the computer! I can’t see your lovely face.”

Amy sits back in her chair. “Is this okay?”

You take her in. You trust your babysitter to take good care of her, but nothing is as reassuring as seeing her unhurt and smiling. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi mommy,” she greets. “Where’s daddy?”

“He’s in the bathroom. Be back any minute. Are you being a good girl for Mrs. Gamorrah? How’s your tummy?”

“I’m being good,” she says, ignoring the important question, “did you see my t-shirt?” She brings her shirt closer to the camera. She’s wearing her favourite pyjamas with the butterflies she had for her birthday, “Look, Mrs. Gamorrah got the soup stain gone.”

You beam at her. You miss her like crazy when you’re not there. You and Spencer take turns staying home most of the time, and so being apart from her and knowing she doesn’t have Spencer to soften your absence makes it easier to worry about her, and harder to concentrate on the work.

The door opens. You twist your head.

Spencer’s drying his hands on a paper towel. “Is that Amy?”

“Quick, she wants to see you.”

Spencer hurries to the laptop, bending at the waist to see the screen and his impatient daughter.

“Amy!” he says, like she’s the only person he’s ever wanted to see, voice enthused with his most dad-appropriate saccharine. “Hi, bunny, hi, hello. I miss you so much, are you okay? I miss you.”

You tap his leg gently. Calm down.

“Daddy, I am so happy, and I miss you too! We’re doing pictures.” She holds up a sheet of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Are you okay too?”

“I’m great now I’m seeing you. I really miss you, sweetheart, I’m sorry we’re both away at work.”

“It’s okay. Me and Mrs. Gamorrah are gonna have pizza and jiffy pop and soda tonight. It would be good with you, but it’s still fun.”

“That’s good,” you say, putting your hand on the keys, wishing you could feel her soft arm in your hand, stroke her silken forehead. “We’re gonna be home soon. Maybe even tomorrow.”

Spencer wraps his arm behind your shoulder. “Me and mom miss you so so much, and we’re so proud of you being a good girl at home. We’re gonna bring you a big present for being by yourself.”

“I’m not by myself, dad, I have Mrs. Gamorrah. Plus, Uncle Morgan said he wants to take me and Hank swimming on Sunday.”

“I’m sure we’ll be home before Sunday.” You smother your frown. Spencer kisses your cheek.

“Give one for me, dad!”

Spencer kisses you again. “That one good enough?” he asks.

“Another one!”

When you get home, you’re gonna spoil the death out of her. Like, worse than you’ve ever spoiled her before. Spencer presses another great kiss to your cheek and smushes your faces together, Amy on the screen reaching for you both for a ghost hug. “I wanted to say hi before we go to the store. Can I call you again before bed?”

“Yeah, baby, call again!” You rush to answer. “Call daddy’s phone, okay? Mine’s not working right. I’ll answer you, we’ll talk all about your day. Okay? I miss you very much.”

“I miss you too. Bye bye.”

“Okay, bye bye,” you say, “I love you.”

“Love you, Amanda,” Spencer says.

She waves her little hand until it looks like it might fall off of her wrist. Spencer waves back just as hard.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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fatal-thoughts · 5 months ago

Note

Anon here requesting a part 2 to the recent Telemachus fic. Please 🙏

(Btw- I adore your writing style! Gonna binge your fics later ^^)

Aw, tysm! A lot of yall really want a part 2 so here you go, my loves.

A Lovely Exchange P 2

P1 here

Telemachus x Reader

Synopsis: Telemachus already fights off his mother’s suitors, but what if he manages to become one? To… one of the palace’s servants?

A/N: Ya'll are hilarious in the comments of part 1, dw I hear ya'll I hear y'all loud and clear. Also, don't be shy to send me asks and even suggestions, I don't mind^^

“You like her, don’t you, son?”

Wait… WHAT??

HOW DID SHE KNOW?

Was it that obvious?

WAIT! I DIDN’T KNOW!—

Telemachus was breaking in a cold sweat, his fists shaking as he maintained his eye contact with the ground, not wanting to face his mother.

“I-I…”

‘This is fine, this is fine! Everything will be fine. Just—just lie, right? That seems easy enough…’

He takes a deep breath.

“I… do…”

Athena he has said this once and he shall say it again, please come to his aid.

Penelope’s eyes light up upon hearing that.

Telemachus was holding his breath so much you’d think he was about to pass out. Thankfully, his mother spoke before he turned blue.

“Good, I always knew you had the eyes for her. Honestly, son, I was just waiting for you to tell me! I always wondered why you’d often avoid Y/n, she is always so sweet and kind��mostly the reason why I favour her so much. Then I realised that's why you were avoiding her. You liked her! How adorable.”

Telemachus took a few good seconds (or more) to process his mother’s words.

Seriously? She KNEW?

And she didn’t SAY ANYTHING?

Well shit, he didn’t know he was that obvious. She could’ve spared him the embarrassment on that one but alright.

“Mom, you knew? This entire time? You KNEW?”

Telemachus asked, standing up and going through a crisis right in front of his mother. Penelope nodded with a sweet smile on her blissful face.

“Why did you not say anything?”

“I wanted to see for myself of course. And the way you spoke to Y/n earlier just proved it.”

Fuuuck he was so AWKWARD WHEN HE SPOKE TO Y/N.

Athena can turn back time, right? She's a goddess so she’s definitely capable of that right? Or maybe he can make a deal with another god just so that Y/n can forget that Telemachus ever existed.

God, he wanted to pass out so badly!!

“It’s alright son, Y/n is more than suitable to be your partner! Speaking of which, look at how beautiful the roses have blossomed this day. You sure chose a lovely girl to court, do you think this is her favourite flower? Or Is it daisies? ”

Penelope sounded so blissfully unaware as she put her hands together, excited with the idea of Telemachus and Y/n together.

“Mom! Please! I’m not even able to speak to her in complete sentences yet! Let alone be her partner right now! Y/n is…”

“Yes, my prince?”

A serene voice called out.

Telemachus froze like ice.

His mother on the other hand immediately got up on her feet as she approached the voice.

“Y/n! Just in time, my dear. We were just talking about you.”

…Shit.

Having heard your name be called out from a distance, you decided to see where all the commotion was coming from. Soon enough, you found yourself being approached by the Queen and a very… conflicted looking Telemachus.

Did he tell his mother about what happened earlier? Is he still nervous? Why did he look so… red?

Your thoughts were put on hold as you saw Queen Penelope in front of you.

“Did you need anything, my Queen?”

You asked her, her gaze mischievously shifting from you to Telemachus for a split second.

“My son and I were just speaking of your beautiful work in the garden, my dear. You’ve outdone yourself Y/n.”

Telemachus nodded in agreement, an offputting smile on his lips and a pink hue returning to his cheeks and migrating into his ears, which he tried to hide under his hair.

It was no surprise the flowers you grew were quite a wonderful bunch. Your father used to be the palace gardener and in his spare time, he’d teach you all of his tricks on how to take care of flowers of all kinds. And since his retirement, you unsurprisingly took over.

Hearing the Queen’s praise warmed your heart.

“In fact, you have done so well that Telemachus would love to thank you with a quaint little dinner with him! A lovely exchange isn’t it?”

A dinner? With the prince? How sweet of him, perhaps he does like you a little bit. It doesn’t explain why he’s looking at Queen Penelope in disbelief like she just betrayed him.

Because she did.

He just said that he still couldn’t talk to her in coherent sentences.

And she sets him up with her, on a date, alone, just the two of them.

This is it, he couldn’t believe it.

His mother, his own mother, wants to kill him.

There was no other explanation as to why she would EVER suggest this.

Except if she wanted to actually kill him.

“Telemachus!”

Penelope called out to him, snapping him out of his daze. He fixes from looking at her back to you, with a genuine little smile at him.

“It’s settled then, yes? You will mar—I mean, dine with Y/n tonight correct?”

The boy managed to let out an awkward and voice-cracked “Yes’.

Penelope couldn’t hide her smile at the two as she put her hands on your shoulders.

“Wonderful, You’d be a delightful daughter-in-law!”

You quickly turn your head towards her, daughter-in-law. Is she ensuing…

Meanwhile, Telemachus was for sure about to give in on his own knees.

“I mean—oh well, we shall prepare for your upcoming date now. Come along Telemachus! We have much to discuss! As for you, Y/n, I shall have a tailor for your clothes shortly. We have a special dinner to prepare!”

Penelope moves with a quick pace, dragging Telemachus by his arm which was soon to break from her force.

“AH! Mom! I almost tripped!”

“One must endure slight pain when they are in love, my son.”

“I could’ve gone limp!”

“Same thing, Telemachus. Come along now! We have much to discuss.”

It was a bit confusing, but nonetheless, the exchange brought a sweet smile to your face.

Perhaps Telemachus is a sweetheart.

Sorry if it was a bit rushed, I wanted to work on other one-shots for a bit.

(Aka I'm writing a dark romance Antinous x Reader one-shot since that man has been in my head for so long now and I need to feed my delusions)

Don't expect a part 3 to this btw, I have other fics to write.

(Like the Antinous one, I swear please just let me get this one-shot out PLEASE)

Anyway, hope you liked this one.

-Fatal-thoughts

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic the wisdom saga #epic telemachus #epic penelope #epic x reader #epic wisdom saga #telemachus #fatal-thoughts #fatal-thoughts ask #telemachus x reader

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii! Could you imagine one where the reader finds out she's pregnant during one of Spencer's missions and when he comes home she has a crisis and ends up feeling ill and Spencer doesn't know how to help and the reader doesn't know how to tell him she's pregnant. (Both are already married)

i took this opportunity to set my pregnant!reader series into the future cause i already planned for them to have another child. request is tweaked justttt a little.

“my dear sweet penny, can you hit me with a bus? i want this misery to end.” you’ve been hit with the worst stomach bug or flu or just something that’s been lasting since spencer went on his case, five days ago.

your mom took your daughter for the day when you realized you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon and you called in your reinforcement of one penelope garcia. the case ended yesterday but the team had to stay an extra day due to weather in their state, so penelope has been keeping you company for the past two days. it was nice to have an adult conversation instead of bluey and the same princess movies.

“okay, if you’re pleading for death that means it’s time to head over to a hospital. i don’t want spencer to hypothetically bite my head off if something happens to you.” her bright blonde hair was your shining sun in your darkened bedroom. and her jewelry were loud gongs with each step she took. “i hate to sound like a bitch but can you like, be the opposite of yourself today?” moaning and groaning as you tried pushing off the tossed sheets.

“yeah, you need a doctor. cause and i quote ‘penny if i even say to change yourself i’ve been abducted and that’s an alien.’ hopefully they can give you good drugs.”

at the hospital they took some blood, made you pee and just did a bunch of other check ups when it was shown you were sick with anything. so after an hour or so your doctor renters the sterile room with his clipboard and a poker face. “well, you’re not sick, but you are pregnant. we’ll get an ultrasound in here to check on the fetus.” talk talk talk and then he left again, leaving you and penelope open mouthed shocked.

“holy shit,” breathing out as your hand rubbed over your still small belly. “i told spencer i couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” telling that to the ceiling.

“oh, i’ll have another godchild! i’m so happy to live vicariously through you.” penelope stood at your side and smiled down at you. you turned your head towards her, “you know when they’re older, you’ll be our go-to babysitter then. so just be prepared for that.”

with the ultrasound done they confirmed you were almost done with your first trimester and that left you a bit shocked. you were three months pregnant but didn’t know, now you understand how some of those other ladies feel. but you were excited for another, but then you were done, seriously.

you tried calling spencer after leaving but his phone when to voicemail, but you didn’t think anything of it. probably feel asleep or out doing something with his team. so when you arrived to your mom’s place you were a bit surprised to see your husband holding your daughter and swinging her around.

“you’re back!” penny the first to speak and move further into the home. spencer and anna both turned their heads and smiled at the bright lady. “auntie penny!” your annabeth squealed with an arm out.

she happily took her from spencer’s hold and moved her away so you could talk with spencer. his puppy eyes and downturn mouth made your heart soar, oh how he’s gonna get you into so much trouble.

“you feeling better? your mom said it’s been a week.” pulling you into his hold, cheek pressed into his chest as his palms rubbed over your shoulder blades and spine. you sighed, “yeah, penny took me to the doctor. turns out i wasn’t sick… i was- i am pregnant.”

spencer’s hands stopped and leaned back, “what?” his brows raised into his curling locks. “how far along?” “three months…” biting into your bottom lip as you watched him go through his mental calendar. you both knew your period was irregular, that’s why you didn’t think anything of it.

“so it must’ve been sometime after annie’s fourth birthday,” spencer came to the conclusion. leaned in to peck your forehead, “are you okay with another?” always making sure you were okay with the decision.

you smiled up at him with a twinkle in your eyes, “absolutely.”

#erin’s blurb requests #a 1k special #erin writes spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x pregnant!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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januaryembrs · 7 months ago

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YOU CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [9]

description: the TWO big steps you take together.

word count: 13.5k

trigger warnings: entire mr scratch episode including drugging and suic!de, gore, violence, blood, mention of Diana's schizophrenia, mention of hotch's upbringing

author's note: lets do this again UGH. also set throughout season 10 so even though it seems like a jump its been a whole year bcus I can't write about every day my babies spend together.

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‘Cause you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home, you can see it with the lights out,

You’re in love. True love,’

The one where you meet his mom. [you have the parenthood talk]

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her thumbnail instinctively picking at the side of her forefinger as her eyes trailed over the dress in the mirror.

It was a little too chesty, were the sleeves too short? Would his mom not like that it was backless? Backless meant suggestive to some people. Would she hate her piercings? She could take out a couple of her earrings just for one day, cover the hole where her nose ring slipped in with foundation easily.

Smile, she needed to remember to smile, not that god awful resting bitch face that Elizabeth used to say looked like she’d sucked a lemon between her cheeks. Smile. No, not like that, that looks fake and awkward.

Was her make up too much? She would hate for Spencer’s mom to think she looked like a hooker. A cheap one at that.

She felt his hands on her shoulders before the throes of her vicious mind could nab her once more, and her eyes trailed behind her in the reflective, if not slightly fingerprinted, mirror.

“You’re thinking loud,” Spencer said as if it was a fact, though that tended to be the way with him, since he knew damn near everything there was to know. Especially about her. “Why are you so worried, it’s my mom. Besides, what’s not to like about you?”

She huffed, shaking her head even though she really tried her best to give him a smile, instead turning to look down at her hands with wincing, cynical twinge of her lips.

“Maybe my tattoos or my make up or my slutty dress or my piercings that make me look like I just raided Penelope’s collection of ‘goth chic jewellery’, her words not mine,” She said pessimistically. She didn’t want to dampen the mood, honestly she was looking forward to the woman who graced the world with Spencer Reid (she wondered if a handshake or a hug would be appropriate, she would ask Spence in the car she decided,) “People don’t tend to see me the way you do, honey, I can be blunt and rude and snappy and cold. And it’s your mom, she’s like the most important person in the world to you.”

“She’s joint first, actually” Spencer corrected, trying to lift her spirits even a little. He knew none of the things she was saying were necessarily true. He suspected that voice that had overcome her was not her own at all, more likely her own mother nagging into to her for years to sit up straighter, smile more, make an effort to network and socialise, or any other piece of shit observation about how she acted for Elizabeth to badger her about.

But then she smiled at him, her eyebrows drawn together a little like she guessed he was lying or perhaps sugarcoating things.

“You’re allowed to have her first, you know,” Bugsy reassured him, her eyes melty and soft as she looked at him and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her stomach, almost like he was trying to suck the negativity out of her whole body through diffusion of their skin alone. “She’s your mom,”

“I know,” Spencer said simply, their eyes never breaking the gaze at one another, and Bugsy felt herself warm inside when she saw just how besotted his forest hues were, “Please stop worrying, she’s going to love you,”

“You can’t know that for sure,” She pushed back, because when had she ever allowed herself to enjoy a good thing when she had it. She knew she was being somewhat of a Negative Nancy, and she didn’t mean to be, truly. But Diana Reid was possibly the most significant person in Spencer’s life, despite what he said. And Bugsy was… Bugsy. All teeth and chaos and bite and vicious tongue when she didn’t mean to be.

If Diana didn’t like her, she wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to look at Spencer again without blurting out the million ways she’d try to make it up to him.

“Oh, I do know for sure actually,” He said, spinning her around so he could see her first hand, not in a reflection or a mirror image, and she smiled despite herself, pressing into his lean body and taking a big whiff of his freshly washed clothes. It was the same detergent she used, the same one he’d always used, and yet it was so Spencer it made her skin crawl with what she thought felt like warm goosebumps.

“Oh yeah?” He nodded proudly, and she progressed to a grin, her chin leaning against his chest as she spoke, and he stroked her neatly braided hair away from her face to see her better, like he’d won the second he saw her smile properly, “How do you figure that one out, wonder boy?”

“I’ve mentioned you in almost every single letter I’ve written to her for three whole years. When she saw the photo of you I sent her, she asked if I’d cut you out of a vogue magazine,” Spencer said and she burst out laughing. He couldn’t say he blamed his mom, the photo he’d sent had been one of Bugsy’s best, but then he’d be willing to argue all of them were just as newsworthy as the last. And nothing compared to the real thing. “You make me happy, happier than I ever thought I was allowed to be. Believe me, I know she’ll love you, because I love you,”

Bugsy smushed her face into his sweater to hide her modesty, and she pressed a small, barely there kiss to where her lips met even if he wouldn’t feel it.

“Does my hair look okay?” She checked again, her voice muffled by his thick knitted clothes, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, stroking a gentle hand down her spine.

“You look beautiful,” He said softly, pulling her away from his body and holding onto her right hand, “Give me a spin,”

He lifted her hand above her head, despite the fact she seemed reluctant and embarrassed, “Spence,”

“We’re not leaving until you give me a spin,” He teased, and his smile was infectious as she twirled around beneath his grasp, the long, floral, sundress fanning out around her knees, “And back again!”

“Spencer-” She said with a chuckle, but he seemed to ignore her, or judging by his smile that spread across his whole face he didn’t care.

“Sorry, it’s just the rules,” He said, though she was almost certain there wasn’t ever such a thing as a rulebook on how to make your girlfriend less of a whiny bitch.

He spun her back around, and by the time she whirled around to face him a second him, his arm dropped down to secure around her waist, yanking her towards him to press a scorching hot kiss to her lips.

She kissed him back, her tongue trailing against his lip and Spencer’s obscenely large hand released her waist, trailing up her sides to cup her cheeks. Spencer kissed her like she was sucking air right out his lungs, like he was receiving life saving medicine, like he was being graced by an angel, a non-believer, a man of science reaching out to the white gates of heaven as if they were about to disappear under his touch.

They parted with a small smack that reverberated in the bathroom, and Bugsy looked at him as if he’d infected her with a drug, because truthfully that was how his touch, his kiss, made her feel.

They settled in his car, a few soft and loving affections later, because she really did look beautiful and he could apologise for smudging her lipstick another time, and Spencer it was the first time in a long time that Spencer felt like his future was laid out in front of him.

–

She fretted some more in the lobby, the woman behind the desk at the sanitarium lighting up at the sight of Spencer walking towards her with a smile.

“Dr. Reid,” She enthused, noting the woman next to him that squoze a book to her chest tightly like she wasn't sure what her fingers might do if they were let loose, “She’s been so excited to see you, her doctors said she’s responding well to the new medication,”

“I heard, I’m glad to hear she’s feeling calmer,” He said, his eyes trailing past the brunette who tapped away at her keyboard idly, “Where is she?”

“She’s just in the sunroom. She’s been learning how to crochet, just like you said,” The receptionist smiled kindly at Bugsy, who looked all but terrified, though she hid it well through tight lips.

Spencer nodded, reaching up to put a hand between Bugsy’s shoulder’s to lead her through the lounge area where a few other residents watched a black and white movie.

“Are you sure my make up looks okay, my mascara hasn’t ran has it?” She whispered, because a few other people, some even her age, were sitting in comfy armchairs flicking through books.

Spencer smiled at her, because she was so cute when she was nervous, usually it was the other way around, “You look lovely, you always look lovely,”

“I believe that’s what’s called voter bias, Dr Reid,” She said, because jokes and wit always seemed to release the pressure on her head when she was stressed.

He chuckled, opening the door to a large room filled on all sides with windows, and the cosy heat hit her in the face, “Not if what I’ve said is a verifiable fact.”

“Who’s your secondary source, Dr?” She said, because they seemed to fall into a nerdy sort of teasing when they were like this. Facts and figures were predictable, getting your boyfriend’s mother to like you based entirely on your personality was not.

“My mom,” Spencer said, and her head whipped to his, ready to protest when he led her to the corner of the sunroom, where a woman sat with her ocean blue eyes screwed up in concentration where two blush pink hooks were crossing and bobbing between a cream thread of yarn, “Mom,”

Her eyes flew up from where she sat, immersed in the delicate movements. Spencer had said a few weeks ago her hands were becoming stiff on her new tablets, that the side effects were making her circulation poor and so Bugsy had been out to help him pick up a crochet kit from Walmart the very same day.

“Mom, this is Bugsy,” He said, and it was his turn to be almost shy as he gestured to the young woman. “The girl I was telling you about,”

Diana stopped for a moment, as if assessing the new face, the way her hair fell around her ears, and Bugsy clutched the hardback tighter to her chest, thinking that maybe she should have gone for something a little fancier than the small piece of twin that wrapped around the present. First time meeting his mom and this was the best you could do, really Bugsy? Where’s the flowers or even another ball of yarn to keep her occupied?

Bugsy swore her breath caught, her brows furrowing together worriedly as she went to hold a shaky hand out to Diana, but then second guessed herself when she wondered if the loathing of spreading germs was shared between Spencer and his mom. She’d forgotten to check when they were in the car- stupid- stupid girl.

“H-hello, Mrs Reid,” She said quietly, shakily, holding out the book to the woman. Diana Reid looked good for her age, considering Spencer had told her on numerous occasions that she struggled to pretty herself up the way she used to before her Schizophrenia had spiralled. But her hair was a warm blonde with only small traces of grey in it, short around her neck likely for practicality, and despite the fact her face seemed somewhat grumpy, though Bugsy would describe her as lost more than anything, she lit up like a damn firework on the fourth of July the second she saw her son.

“Spencer!” She exclaimed, holding a hand out for her son to take, which he did so without hesitation. Bugsy thought she might be going in for a hug, maybe that she’d missed the hint that Bugsy was trying to greet her, which the young girl didn’t mind one bit. She was well aware she was stepping on their time together, “Help me out of this chair, I left my glasses in my room, I want to see her,”

Bugsy felt heat rush to her cheeks as Diana all but threw her crochet set to the little table beside what seemed to be a lukewarm mug of coffee, and Spencer helped her out of the recliner, Bugsy holding out another hand in case she needed it. She was tall once she stood to full height, taller than Bugsy would have thought she would be, and hands were on her shoulders the second Diana had released her son.

“Oh, look at you!” Diana exclaimed, and Bugsy tried not to falter with embarrassment under her words. But his mother’s hands were soft, if not rough on the tips where she had spent her life flicking through pages on pages of literature, “I’ve always told Spence he was a looker but, my god, you’re a catch even for him,”

“Mom,” He said indignantly, but Bugsy chuckled through flaming cheeks. Diana waved him off in favour of smiling at the girl, and the second she met eyes with the woman who had raised Spencer Reid she saw where he got his good heart from.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Reid,” She stumbled over her words, trying for a second time to give her the book, and Diana looked almost aghast that she had brought her a present, “Spencer said you’d finished all your books they let you keep here so I bought you one of my favourites-”

“How could I resist The Great Gatsby,” Diana said, running a polished thumb over the gold printed writing, a small smile playing at her lips, “I’ve been meaning to brush up on Fitzgerald,”

Spencer smiled at his mother, who seemed more full of life than she had in weeks, before she waved her hand in front of the two of them, and Bugsy wondered if she had done something wrong.

“And none of this Mrs Reid crap. You're not the IRS, Diana is just fine, honey,” She said, and Bugsy grinned, nodding in agreement with the older woman. “Mom is even better if you’re feeling brave,”

“O-okay, absolutely,” She said, smiling even wider when Spencer seemed almost aghast his mother was being so brazen. Though he needn’t be so prudent, Bugsy was certain she loved her already.

“And how is my big strong FBI agent?” Diana turned to her son finally and he shook his head, his eyes full of boyish affection for the women.

“There’s dozens of words I think would perfectly describe me yet ‘big and strong’ fall nowhere in that category, mom,” He said, smiling widely at his mother who rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder. She seemed more like herself than she had in years, her eyes were clearer, her nerves weren’t shot like usual. She seemed like the mother from his best memories.

“Alright, how does ‘contumelious’ work out for you?” She cracked back, and he laughed, shaking his head and he caught the pure warm grin radiating from Bugsy’s direction at the two of them.

And Bugsy saw in the kind, devoted eyes that hid behind Diana’s fluffy white, blonde hair where Spencer got his gentle soul; as if no amount of medication or illness would ever make his mother let up on the tenderness she held for him. She felt it in the air alone, the way they fell into sync only blood could ever achieve, and for a flash of a thought, Bugsy wondered if Spencer would be so doting on their children.

And for the first time all day she didn’t need to second guess herself. She already knew the answer.

–

“And this was Spencer in the mathletes,” Bugsy’s hand flew to her mouth to suppress the ‘aww’ threatening to tumble from her lips, because she knew from the way his cheeks had turned a bright rouge that he was embarrassed and she hated to make him feel like she was finding humour in his shame.

It was easy to see which one was him from the offset. Three college boys who had probably spent the best part of their first years begging sorority girls to fuck them and eating funny brownies stood at the back, atleast in their late teens judging by their late-adolescene acne and braces. Yet there, standing in front of them dressed in a tweed sweater vest and pressed brown trousers as if he was a small grandpa, was a scrawny pole of a boy, peeking out from behind a sweeping fringe in need of a trim and a pair of bubble-like glasses.

He was smiling wide, holding some sort of trophy in between his slender, little fingers, and Bugsy could bet her entire savings that he had answered almost all of his team’s questions.

“Spence,” She murmured, taking the photo gently between her fingertips where she sat in between her partner and his mother at the foot of Diana’s bed, “You were so cute,”

“You can just say dorky,” He corrected, fighting the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands, because he could feel the way they gave away his self-consciousness.

But she shook her head, leaning into him with adoring eyes as she stared at the photo, “No, I mean cute. Look at your little hair, you were so tiny- aw!”

He laughed awkwardly, not missing the way she put a hand on his leg in reassurance, and Diana handed her another photo of a toddler with thick dark hair, those hazel eyes she loved, huge and round on the baby's smiling face. Bugsy melted when she saw the milk teeth gleaming in the midst of his laugh, yet she burst into sheepish giggles when she realised baby Spencer had no clothes on.

Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the thing dangling between his legs as the picture captured him crawling towards where Diana had the camera. “Mom!”

Diana rolled her eyes, producing another one of Spencer watering the flowers with the garden hose, barely one year old in a bucket hat and, yet again, nothing else. “Oh, Spencer, don’t give me that, look how cute those little butt cheeks were,”

Bugsy slapped a hand over her mouth, her brows pulling together at the endearingly innocent photos, and she met Spencer’s gaze again, the urge to squish his cheeks in between her fingers suddenly itching her hands. Though, judging by the embarrassment in his expression, he wouldn’t like it very much even if she did mean the best of intentions.

“You were so adorable,” She confessed, looking back down at the two tiny, round butt cheeks that made something well in her chest because it was Spencer, so small and vulnerable and helpless. She turned to Diana, her eyes wide with love, “How did you not want just millions of them?”

The woman laughed, leaning against Bugsy and palming off another photo, this time of Spencer in swimming trunks at the beach, likely around two or three, a line of white sun cream running down his nose and cheeks as he looked to be grumbling about the sand on his legs.

“Because I knew none of them could ever be as special as my Spencer, and then that just wouldn’t be fair on them.” She said simply, and Bugsy smiled at the woman, truly smiled, because despite everything her illness set against her, she loved her son more than anything in the world. “You don’t win the lottery and then pawn in your rings for a couple bucks, now do you?”

Bugsy chuckled, shaking her head. Elizabeth had never been so doting on her. She knew she shouldn’t think about her, shouldn’t compare the two of them because they weren’t similar even in the slightest. Diana was a single mother of a deadbeat husband who left, she battled a disease day in-day out that threatened to eat away at her brain, her memories of her son who thought the world of her, and she was still a better mother than hers had ever been.

Part of her felt that bitter sting that never really left her since she was thirteen, since she saw the maid at breakfast time more often than she ever saw her mother, the kid that got picked up and dropped off in another country like she was furniture, a barbie doll for her mother to primp and clean and boast about her big brain to her colleagues without ever showing a semblance of affection for the girl reading material eight years above her grade level.

Diana was living proof that no matter what, it’s not a challenge to love your children the way Elizabeth had always made it out to be, that she was difficult to love even for her own mother.

Bugsy bit the emotion back, knowing it was just the baby photos ramping up her hormones, and felt herself fall perhaps even more in love with Spencer Reid when she saw the photo of him at Christmas dressed as a Jedi.

–

She was quiet on the way home, her stomach warm with fondness, her hand warm with his palm as they held hands on top of the gearstick.

She watched the last of the sun peek through the trees in a cantaloupe orange and candy-floss pink swirl, and she let herself close her eyes under the day’s worth of laughter.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer said after a moment, giving her hand a small squeeze when she didn’t answer right away, and he wondered if she may have even fallen asleep, feeling immediately guilty for waking her.

She looked at him with an uneasy smile on her face, and his brain threw up a million different reasons for it, almost all of them making him worry.

“I know my mom is a lot,” He said, his tone jittery and she started shaking her head immediately, forgetting he couldn’t see where he was looking at the road, “I know she’s-”

“She’s wonderful, Spencer. God, no, it’s not that. I loved her,” Bugsy cut him off, and his shoulder’s immediately sagged in relief. She moved her hand to tuck a single lock of hair behind his ear, and he nudged into her touch on instinct.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, his brows pulled together in worry as they came to a red stop light, and he put the Beetle into neutral. He looked over at her then, and he saw the way the grin had slipped off her face, leaving her with something oddly unreadable, though if he had to put a name to it, he would say doubtful, and she swallowed thickly.

“Do you ever worry…” She paused herself, because she already could see their picture perfect day spiralling down the drain like yesterday’s woes, “It’s nothing, just forget I said anything,”

“No, tell me,” Spencer insisted, and the road around them seemed to hold its breath waiting for her reply. He’d taken a nice route home, claiming he wanted to skip the eight pm traffic, whatever that was, had cut through one of those neighbourhoods they show on holiday brochures or estate agents' windows. The kind people with kids and volvo’s and yoga mom groups lived in.

Her eyes snapped out the front window when four young boys zipped past them on their bikes, their knees muddy from where they’d probably spent the day playing soccer, their clothes just as messy and torn, likely waiting to be scolded by their mothers for their recklessness. And pulling up the rear was a kid smaller than the others, jogging after them, wanting to cross the road before the light turned green, his glasses slipping down his nose with every step, and some weird, small part in Bugsy’s gut wanted to throw her arms around him and walk him home to make sure he got there safely.

Spencer’s hand was on her thigh, pulling her out of her thoughts for a second time, and she blinked a little too harshly, wishing she could just enjoy a lovely day for what it was rather than putting such a downer on things.

“I haven’t spoken to my mom since Emily’s funeral,” She said, swallowing heavily, and understanding passed over his face then. He knew he would never have with Elizabeth what they had just had with his mother. Even if she retired tomorrow and wasn’t jetting off to another country every week, Elizabeth Prentiss was a cold, shrewd woman who could make someone, mainly her daughters, feel empty just by being in the same room.

Her damning grey eyes, her tight lips that never smiled, her harsh brow.

“I don’t think she even kept any of my baby photos, none that don’t have her in them at least,” She confessed, and the lights flashed to amber, then green, and he was forced to let go of her for just a moment as he pulled off again, “I don’t… I don’t think she ever liked me.”

He had no idea what to say that would make it better. Usually he was so good at wriggling her problems out from the core, proving all her worst fears were wrong with simple logic. Yet he was at an end. Because Elizabeth had never shown any sign of loving her daughters, truly loving them beyond trophies.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” He tried, pulling over to stop at the curb because he hated speaking to her when he was distracted. “Some people just have a funny way of showing these things,”

But she shook her head, turning her eyes to her lap, “Your mom is… Amazing. And I feel like a total asshole for complaining about mine when yours is sick most of the time. And I know things weren’t great- I mean you were just a kid, you should have never had to look after her, it’s supposed to be the other way around, you know? But you’ll know she’s always loved you, like truly, truly loved you. I mean, you’re her whole world,” She rushed, like the thoughts had been bouncing around her head all day, waiting to burst out at the seams, which they had.

Spencer took the keys out of the ignition, shuffling in his seat to face her, and he only realised then she was watching where the four boys had taken off down the street on their bikes, the smallest one trailing at the back like a lost puppy.

“Don’t you ever worry sometimes I’ll be..” She started, and he knew where it was going before she forced herself to finish. Taking her hand in his, weaving his fingers between hers and squeezing them tight.

“Like your mom?” He said for her because the words were lingering in the air like alphabet soup. She nodded silently, grateful that he always seemed to know how her brain was ticking over. She reminded herself to make it up to him later, “Never,”

“But-” She started, and he grabbed her chin then, forcing her to look at him. He smiled dopily, because usually it was him who needed to be told how other people felt, and she swore his eyes had never looked so sweet.

“Never,” He repeated, feeling the smile spreading under his fingertips as it took the second turn for her to hear it, “If anything, I worry more about becoming like my dad,”

Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head again. Sometimes Spencer wondered if she knew she was so expressive. It was one of his favourite parts about her.

“Never,” She echoed back to him, and they shared a sombre smile, squeezing each others hand just that bit tighter, “I tell you what, the second either one of us starts becoming our parents, we have the right to call them a jackass,”

He laughed, nodding his head and leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to hers, “Alright, deal. Although I think I hear Freud rolling in his grave at that statement.”

She kissed him, hard, because she would never be able to tell him exactly how he made her feel with words alone. Over two hundred thousand words in the English Language, at least five other languages she could speak fluently, and yet not one of them knew how to describe this feeling. Like she had been absorbed so completely, effortlessly, by Spencer Reid. That she was disease ridden, riddled with Reid.

And the thought made her giggle into the kiss, because she would have to tell him some other time. Her hand ran through his hair, pulling him closer, and his hand skirted down to her waist to tease underneath her shirt.

They pulled away after a moment, staring with the same dazed look in their eyes.

“We have three more days in Vegas,” She started, fixing his collar and hair with idle fingers and pressing an absent peck to his lips, “Do you think we could go back one more time? To see your mom? If that’s okay with her, of course,”

And he smiled widely at her, nodding and pulling her in for another long kiss. They had a dinner reservation in a half hour, but he didn’t mind being five minutes late for once in his life, not if it meant he was with her.

The one with Scratch. [he buys a ring]

He’d walked past the jewellers three times that week on his way back from the coffee shop. Bugsy had a fair bit of paperwork to catch up on, despite him offering to halve her load with her because Hotch had already warned them once about the complaints he got from the other agents that she was using Reid’s memory as an unfair advantage, although he would argue that her brain was just as capable as his.

So, he’d been sent on a coffee run alone. He wasn’t complaining, it was just down the road, barely even a five minute walk, and it meant he got to look at the range of neatly cut diamonds in peace.

He wasn’t looking to buy it soon, at least that was what he’d told himself the first time he’d seen the pretty one in the corner. He was just having a browse, perhaps just looking at the watches they had on display and his eye had happened to fall to the women’s section below. The second time he’d stopped for a look, it was just to see if anyone had bought that one he’d seen the first time, and when he realised they hadn’t, his heart gave a somewhat relieved sigh that he decided he would confront later.

By the third time, the shop keeper stuck his head out the door, making Spencer jump.

“Either you’re buying or you’re fogging up my window, kid,” The old man’s voice was gruff, but he had kind eyes, that of a romantic, and Spencer supposed you didn’t sell a dozen engagement rings a day and not feel hopeful.

“J-just looking,” He stammered, taking a step away from the rings and double checking he hadn’t gotten any smudges on the glass, “Not to buy right now, just for future reference,”

“No one comes back that many times for future reference, son,” He said with a chuckle and Spencer hated the part of him that said that he was right, “Why not for right now?”

Spencer huffed quietly, wondering if her coffee would be cold by the time he got back at the rate he was going, “It’s still a little early. I don’t want to freak her out,”

She had been his girlfriend for one year, seven months and two weeks (and four days but who was counting). It had been her thirtieth birthday just a couple months ago, as far as he was concerned Bugsy had never dropped any hints about wanting to marry any time soon like he knew other women did at this time in their life.

He was happy where they were, in their apartment, in their semi-public relationship, with their boys that were starting to look a little grey and rickety on their paws. Spencer didn’t want anything to ruin that, even if that one ring did seem to call out to him like a siren song.

The jeweller grinned slyly, like he knew something Spencer didn’t, but he nodded at the kid nevertheless, “Well, that little number in the corner you’ve had your eye on has had two offers already, incase that sways your hand at all,”

And Spencer felt the jolt of injustice in his head at the idea of someone else taking that ring, one that he couldn’t get out of his head the entire way back to the office, one that only went away when he saw her smiling up at him.

One that only dissolved when he imagined how she would look wearing it.

–

“Tell Penelope I said hi,” Director Axelrod murmured, turning on his heel and heading back to his car as Hotch flashed a look down at the paper, the name ‘Peter Lewis’ scribbled out on the line and he passed the paper to Bugsy where she peered around his shoulder.

“Get this to Garcia, Lewis has his final victim already,” He said and she nodded, the two of them heading back to the car. Bugsy pulled her cell out her pocket, immediately calling their tech whizz where the rest of the team were at the office an hour away.

“Peter Lewis, born and raised in Jacksonville, Florida. To call him a Math genius would be an understatement,” Garcia reported, her press on nails clicking against the keyboard as she worked in the candlelight since Lewis had hacked into their electric systems.

“Where was he in the foster system?” Hotch asked, Bugsy holding the phone up over the centre console so they could both speak to their team.

“He was… ugh this WiFi hotspot is the worst,” They waited, Hotch heading for the freeway, “He was not in the foster system. He had two very biological parents and they ran the foster home until it- oh dear,”

“Looks like we found Mr Scratch,” Rossi sighed, and Bugsy’s brows furrowed, waiting for a response.

“So one of the boys in the house said Peter’s dad would dress up as the devil then the other kids would follow suit, this has to be where all the victims stayed before they were adopted and their names were changed,” JJ chimed in.

“Did Lewis’s father serve any time?” Bugsy piped up, chewing the inside of her cheek because the whole case had given her the heebie jeebies. Grown ups reporting sights of shadow monsters and waking up with dead loved ones. She thought by now she had heard it all.

“The case was pending and then he was killed in jail for being a paedophile. Peter’s residency is still listed as Florida,” Garcia said, her mouse whirling around at the speed of light judging by the soft ticks they heard on their end.

“He broke into FBI files to find someone in witness protection, did any of the kids from the home end up in WITSEC?” Hotch asked, clicking the blinker down to chand lanes and overtake the ford infront of them.

“That would be… no? No, none of them,” Garcia replied, and the team shared a confused pause.

“Who the hell is he still hunting?”

Hotch spoke up, his own mind whirring as to who could possibly be Lewis’ endgame, “Garcia, who ran the investigation in Florida?”

“Hold on, that would be Dr. Susannah Regan, who went into witness protection on a very nice estate in Columbia, Maryland,” Bugsy and Hotch looked at one another, sharing the same thought and the unit chief floored the gas pedal, knowing Regan didn’t have a whole load of time left if Peter had gotten to her already.

“Send Reid the location, we’re on our way,” Hotch ordered, and Penelope was already ten steps ahead, Rossi and JJ grabbing their vests and heading for the garage.

Bugsy hung up, checking her gun was still holstered as Hotch launched them the final five minutes to Dr Regan’s home.

And yet she couldn’t help feel like they were walking into the belly of the beast the victims had been describing.

–

Garcia hadn’t been kidding when she said it was a nice estate. By the time they’d gotten out the car, the entire street was silent, a quiet only lots of acres and high gates bought you.

“You stay behind me, we watch each other's six. We get Dr Regan and we get out, are we clear?” Hotch muttered, his eyes darling to the living room window where the curtains had been pulled closed, one single lamp left lit.

She nodded, the two of them edging towards the door that had already been left open a crack, “Crystal,”

He took a second to breath, wondering if they should wait for back up, but Savannah didn’t have alot of time, not if the unsub was already inside like he suspected, before he raised his hand up to the knocker and snapped it a couple times, pushing the door open.

“Dr Regan?”

“It’s open, come in,” The woman’s voice called, though it sounded too chipper to be authentic, some sort of uncanny valley as if it was an automated response from an answering machine.

Checking Bugsy was still behind him, he pushed on, his footsteps light and quiet, eyes scanning the large antechamber, the grand piano sat in front of a huge fireplace cold to the touch, the lights all switched off despite the owner being home.

Maybe Dr Regan was cheaping out on her bills. But Bugsy doubted it. Something in her gut didn’t sit right.

“Are you alright?” Aaron called, his torso squeezing against his vest as he scanned what he could see from the room, and she held up behind him, flicking a look over her shoulder every once in a while for movement from the other rooms.

“Agent Hotchner, I got Agent Rossi’s message,” She said, again in that cheery voice, despite her words claiming she understood she was in peril, and the sound of it made Bugsy’s chest seize with suspicion.

“Doctor, you’re in danger, you need to come with us,” She explained, her eyes squinting to see in the damning lowlight of the home.

“I understand,” That robot voice spoke, “I’m in the study,”

They paused for a second, exchanging another look before pressing on because they had no time to lose over silly hesitations. Passing through the entrance into the room lined with bookshelves on bookshelves, expensive tapestry on expensive tapestry, their heads flicked over to a frail older woman that somewhat resembled the woman they’d been sent from Penelope, when she had was freshly turned twenty five with a sparkly new bookdeal under her nose.

She sighed in gratitude when the entered, and Bugsy held back a moment as Hotch moved in, keeping her finger on the trigger, “I’m so glad you’re here, you need to see this,” Savannah produced a long, glass sharp letter opener that could easily pass for a knife with the eight inch edge of it, “He wants you to see this.”

And with that, without hesitation or caution she jammed the knife through her own windpipe as if puppeteered by a master, and Bugsy leapt forward to try stop the bleeding just as Aaron did.

Only she never got that far, because no sooner had she stepped forward a hand reached out from the darkness, grabbing her by the scruff of her hair and throwing her to the floor while she had been caught off guard. Pain exploded behind her eyes as her nose met the hardwood floor, and she swore she cracked a tooth or two. Her hand scrambled out for her gun, only to watch a large black boot stomp down on her digits that made her hiss in pain.

She heard a scuffle up ahead where Peter had managed to grab Hotch equally unaware, and she watched her unit chief tumble to the floor, smacking his head on the table on his way down.

And it was then that she smelled it. A raw chemically odour that ran up her bloodied nose, went into her mouth when she tried calling out for Hotch, and it made her cough up a thick mucus before it had even slid down her throat.

She heard shots fired, and it was enough for her to reach out for her own gun again, hoping that Lewis was distracted enough to not pay attention to her, only to realise somewhere in the scuffle he had kicked her weapon across the floor.

When had he done that? Why hadn’t she seen him? Probably because the pain behind her eyes had damn near wiped her vision into a blur of white.

It was then the nausea hit her, the vertigo washing over her like she’d stood up too fast, only she wasn’t standing up at all, in fact she was pretty sure she was on her hands and knees trying to crawl towards Hotch.

Hotch, who lay on the floor with his own eyes rolling like the room was spinning for him too, and she wondered how on earth anyone could have beaten Hotch. He was a rock, immovable, irreplaceable, forever.

“Hotch-” She garbled out, her voice tragic and weak in a way he’d never heard before.

And he opened his mouth to speak, only to find his own voice gone when he saw the figure leering over her body, a glint of a knife in his hand, and Aaron wanted to know how he had managed to emerge out of the shadows when he could have sworn Lewis was right next to him.

The drug, it had to be the drug. God his eyelids were heavy, what had they been in this house for?

But Aaron felt a scream lodge in his mouth, sounding more like a yelp, something that could have been a mix of ‘no’ and raw anger because Peter had brought one of those big black boots behind him and kicked Bugsy so hard in the gut she flew to her side like roadkill, the wind leaving her lungs with a whimper of pain, and her eyes never left Hotch’s gaze as he did so.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going to need some alone time with Mr Hotchner here,” Lewis said, and before Aaron could plea or beg, he watched the man lean down and drive a swift line across her throat, as if he were simply gutting a pig, and her carotid artery was sliced clean in two, her blood spewing all over Aaron’s shoes, seeping into the floor.

And Aaron went to scream, felt the tears well in his eyes because he’d failed her, only this time, unlike Hailey, he was forced to watch every second of life trickle from her face as she bled out onto the floor, choking and clawing at the floor for reprieve.

What would he say to the team, to Spencer? What would he say to Emily?

Aaron let himself sob, shaking his head in denial and squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hoping to god medical would get here soon. It would be too late by then, he already knew it.

Bugsy was dead. There wasn’t any miracle fix or band aids that were going to fix that.

And yet in the next moment the sound of her body writhing in desperation against the floor, the sight of which he couldn’t even bring himself to watch, it had gone quiet.

And Aaron peeled his eyes open, wondering if she had passed, if she was still in pain, if she wanted someone to hold her hand as she went, and he urged his heavy muscles to do something god damnit anything to help her, except his body felt like lead and even opening his eyes was too much for him.

But there was nothing there. Not the puddle of blood he’d just watched spill over the flooring, not her hand reaching out for him, clawing at her throat for reprieve and certainly not a body of a girl he once loved like a daughter who would stay with him for a lifetime.

All of it, just… gone.

“Don’t you worry, Mr Hotchner, I’m saving the girl for later. Can’t have a pretty thing like that go to waste,” Lewis smiled toothily, and Aaron wanted to wrap his hands around the bastard’s throat, wring the life out of him until he was a crumpled mess on the floor, “But for now, it’s you and me, Aaron. And I think you should answer your phone. Your team are on their way for you,”

–

Her scream was piercing, cut through two walls. He could hear it the second they stepped out of the car. He’d all but thrown himself out the vehicle before Anderson had even stopped, probably would have barged right through the front door without even drawing his gun if it hadn’t been for Morgan grabbing him.

“Reid, Reid, no-” Derek said, even though his voice wavered, his head flicking back at the house, “You can’t just head in there without backup, it could be a trap, man,”

“She’s in there, can’t you hear her?” Spencer said, his eyes wide with terror as the sound of her screaming kicked up a whole other decibel and Spencer's stomach churned at the thought of what might be the root cause of it, “Please, Morgan, I can’t-”

He didn’t even realise his eyes had welled up at the sound alone until he couldn’t finish his words, and Derek was staring at him with an equally solemn expression.

JJ rounded the other SUV, Rossi at her tail, their guns drawn low to their thighs as they gave Derek a nod; ready to enter.

“Just promise me you’ll keep your head, Reid,” Morgan said with a cautious tone. Realistically, Spencer should have stayed back at the office with Kate. He was too emotionally invested in the case, though no one wanted to be the one to argue that with him, knowing Spencer would only fight back that they would all struggle to keep their cool once they entered the house.

Because the UnSub had Hotch and Bugsy. He’d taken family. He’d made it personal.

And then, just as Spencer nodded, unholstering his own gun and making sure his vest was tightened at his waist, perhaps the worst happened.

A shot fired from inside the house, loud and unmistakable over the deafening cries and Bugsy’s screaming stopped.

–

Spencer didn’t even remember entering the house, not really, despite his promise to Morgan. He felt like his heart was in his throat, images of Maeve’s brain matter splattered over the warehouse floor flooding his head, because apparently a revolver can cut through two heads at once and still pack a punch.

Spencer was realistic, had sprung into a clinical sort of worry that told him exactly how many times he’d told her he loved her (two thousand, six hundred and seventeen times) and that maybe that wasn’t enough. It told him the amount of kisses they’d shared could have easily been doubled if he dared to steal them more often before bed, if he’d been honest with her years before he had, if he’d just taken five minutes off his showers.

He had barely survived Maeve dying. If Bugsy was gone… there would be nothing left of him. Nothing important anyway. Just a body, limbs, a heart that would never beat again. He wagered even his blood would stop because the idea of her gone from the world had already made him cold.

He heard movement in the living room, and judging by the way Derek’s head whipped over to their right, he had too. And before they could raise their guns up to aim, Derek edging forward to kick the door in with pure, simmering rage, a voice sounded out from the other side.

“In here!”

Hotch. Hotch, who sounded like he was weeping, or at least had a frog in his throat, hummed his words almost. The men drew a breath of relief, Derek reaching forward to open the living room door, his weapon still tight in between his fingers as he pushed.

“Hotch?” He said, though Spencer’s eyes cast around the room the second he confirmed his unit chief was okay. He had a nasty gash on his head, likely from where he’d fallen, and his pupils were dilated. Drugged. “Hotch, where’s Bugsy?”

“H-he took her-” Aaron slurred, attempting to get to his feet, holding out a hand to the sofa and using the furniture to claw himself up to a stand, “Upstairs I think- I need to get her- Where’s my gun-”

Morgan rushed in to grab Hotch under his arms as Rossi and JJ burst in from the kitchen, Rossi calling out behind them for medical attention.

“Hotch, you’re not going anywhere, you need to- Reid,” Morgan yelled, but Spencer ignored him. Because he could apologise later.

Lewis had Bugsy alone, had taken her upstairs, that was what Hotch said. And Spencer couldn’t stand by and wait while they had no idea what was happening to her. He heard JJ’s footsteps pounding behind him, following him up the stairs, and he knew he should be paying more attention for any hint if Lewis was still in the building. But he didn’t. All he could think about was those screams. Raw. Guttural. Like she was being skinned alive.

His eyes trailed the empty bedrooms, any sign of movement whether it be Lewis or the woman he would trade his own life for in a heart beat if it came down to it. But there was nothing there, not even as JJ swept the other handful of rooms, leaving them with one small storage room at the end of the hallway, and the two of them cast a glance at one another.

JJ nodded to him, and he reached out a shaky hand, praying on everything in the vast universe he’d spent his entire life learning about that someone heard him begging to keep his Bugsy alive.

He slid the door open, cocking his gun up to the figure in the corner, his own weapon at his feet as he smiled in a smug manner.

JJ took stock of their surroundings, waiting for the trap they were walking into to spring, only he held his hands out in surrender.

Because he had already gotten what he wanted. He had killed Dr Regan, and taken two cops down with him.

“Where is she?” Spencer spat, handing JJ cuffs as the woman grabbed him harsher than she should do, because the pleased look on his face was infuriating, only made worse by the chuckle that bubbled out of his mouth.

“She’s in the closet,” He nodded his head to the smallest bedroom, and Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “She sure is a darling, isn’t she? So easy to tame once that smart mouth of hers was gone,”

Spencer wanted to shoot him between the eyes there and then, put him down like the sick dog he was, but instead he fled after where Lewis had directed him, because he didn’t know if she was injured herself or if it was already too late.

For once in his life, Spencer Reid knew nothing.

–

And then he saw her.

She was alive, thank god she was alive, a dent in her nose that suggested he’d thrown her to the ground face first, her knees skinned, her palms scratched.

But that wasn’t what worried him.

Because no sooner had he opened the door to the closet, reaching forward to yank her hands off her ears, or maybe pull her for a hug, or maybe break down into sobs and tell her how sorry he was he couldn’t have stopped any of it, she’d started screaming again.

He didn’t think after so many years on the job he’d ever heard something so gut-wrenching. For a moment he thought he might even be sick. Because it was full of pure terror. Not the childish fright you get from a scary movie or a loop de loop on a rollercoaster, but blood curdling fear like he had never heard before.

It was enough to have Morgan running up the stairs with his gun drawn, only to see Spencer frozen, his hands reaching out to grab her, and it was only then the agent realised Reid was trying to speak to her.

“Baby, baby it’s okay, it’s me, it’s Spencer, you know me,” He said, his lip quivering, his words warbling with tears, “Please, please come back to me, I don’t know what to do- please just tell me what to do-”

“Reid, she’s not herself. Hotch said Lewis made him see things, awful things, just like he did with the other victims,” Morgan said, holstering his gun, his own resolve crumbling when he came closer and realised she had her eyes screwed tightly shut, curling herself into a ball in the corner like a kid trying to hide from the boogey-monster.

But Spencer didn’t listen, he couldn’t accept that they had found her alive and still he had been too late, didn’t want to accept that he had her in his grasp and yet she was still living her a personal hell with no end in sight.

“Please, please, come back to me,” He sniffled, leaning forward onto his knees to try hold her hands in his, maybe get her to hear his voice and wake up from whatever nightmare she was stuck in, “Come on, I got you,”

“No, no, no, you’re not real, you’re not real,” She screeched, shoving his hands off her, and it was then he saw the dribble of tears running off her nose, “You’re not, I won’t kill him, I won’t-”

It was the ravings of a mad woman. But Spencer didn’t doubt for one second that whatever was happening inside that big brain of hers felt entirely real. He heard Morgan draw a sharp breath, turning to face away from the girl and steady himself where his dark eyes lined with woe and salt.

Spencer hated seeing her cry, hated not knowing how to help her even more, and he didn’t care if she pushed him away even more. He had to hold her, hold her and make her listen, make her understand she was safe because he was there.

Spencer swore then and there that he wouldn’t let anything touch her ever again as long as he lived.

It took everything in him to ignore the way her hands scratched at his wrists desperately, and he wondered if in her mind he’d taken the form of some beast ready to swallow her whole. But he was sure he could calm her down with some coaxing, get her to see what was real if he was patient and gentle enough. He scooped an arm under her legs that shook, and it only took him a second to realise he had peed herself in the throes of her nightmare, the sight of it causing another cry to roll from his tongue. He didn’t care about the mess, because his entire focus was on her as her hands thrashed against his chest, trying everything to get him off her, even when his other hand wrapped around the back of her head and pressed her tightly into his shoulder, squeezing her against him in his lap like she was an inconsolable child.

“Please, please, I can’t, I can’t do it again, I don’t understand,” She wailed, her voiced croaking and pathetic and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d damaged her vocal chords, “I don’t understand,”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” He cooed softly, pressing his head next to her ear and rocking her slowly, “It’s me, it’s Spencer. I’m real, this is real,”

Her hands stopped their fight against his body, his own grip tight and not showing any signs of letting go any time soon as he waited for her to wear herself out, for her body to lose its adrenaline and slip out of its fight response. She pushed him limply a few more times, with little more than the strength of a toddler, and he knew she was coming back down, at least something close to it.

“I’m so tired,” Her voice was muddled with tears, slurring and stumbling over each other and it was then that JJ walked in with three paramedics behind her.

The blonde’s face evened out when she saw the girl was alive, nothing but a few surface wounds, but it was then she saw over Spencer’s shoulder the way her eyes were clenched tightly together, the red marks on Spence’s alabaster skin where she had put up a fight behind cradled in his arms.

And JJ knew then that something inside Bugsy had changed that day.

“I know, you were so brave, you were so brave for me,” Spencer nodded, his cheeks flooding as he tried to keep his tone strong, stroking the back of her hair softly, “You did so good, I’m so sorry,”

“I’m so tired and I don’t understand,” She said, like she was putting sentences together for the first time, and it was like suddenly the fight had been sucked out of her as she slumped against him, not even realising in her haze that she needed to be showered off desperately.

“I know, honey,” He murmured, sniffling and pressing his face into her neck, “You can sleep now, I got you,”

She hummed like she didn’t quite believe him, like she still thought he was some figment of her imagination, but she hadn’t the strength to fight back, to call his bluff. And so she drifted in and out of sleep, as the paramedics got her on a stretcher, Spencer hovering over her face incase she woke up in a panic again, cracking her eyes open right as they got her on the back of the ambulance and suddenly it wasn’t Spencer’s face she saw flitting in and out of her eyeline, it was Hotch.

“Hotch-” She tried, her hand swinging out at her side with her attempt of grabbing onto his face because there was a trail of blood down his cheek. Her voice was fried, just like Spencer had suspected, her words sounding as if she had swallowed stones, “Hotch, your head,”

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I should have known he would be there,” Hotch said, as her eyes rolled back, straining desperately to keep herself awake. But she had said it herself. She was just so tired. “I shouldn’t have taken you in there,”

“I don’t think I like dreaming anymore,” She garbled childishly, a small frown on her face, and Hotch bit his lip to hide a whimper, raising a hand to her cheek, and Spencer sat at the foot of the stretcher, his neck and wrists sore where she’d clawed him, but he didn’t care.

Hotch gave her a long kiss to her forehead, one Spencer pretended not to see for the sake of paperwork, because he knew Hotch needed it, even as she’d been sucked right back into the reverie of sleep, their eyes never left her frail form, not even when the paramedics started hooking things up to her wrists to take her charts.

Spencer knew then he should have bought that ring.

–

She’d been staring at the ceiling for about five minutes before he tried to pry an answer out of her.

He’d tried not to smother her the second she woke up, had seen the hesitation and distrust swirling in her gaze when she saw him there, and he wondered if she thought it was another one of her dreams she had yet to wake up from. But he was real, and he was worried, and he loved her. God, did he love her. Loved her so much he couldn’t stand for one more moment to see her so dissociated from a world where she was his and he was hers and everyone was missing her.

“What did he make you see?” Spencer tried, his voice as soft as he could try make it without crying, because her gaze remained in her lap, the side effects of the drugs making her a little woozy, “Baby, I can’t help you unless you talk to me, please just, let me help you,”

Her throat was in agony the second she opened her mouth to speak, ripping with pain when she cleared her throat and in an instant, Spencer’s hand was on her thigh drawing comforting circles with his thumb.

“Emily was there, she came to- r-rescue me,” She started shakily, her hands trembling beneath the covers and she breathed slowly through her mouth, “S-she wasn’t wearing a vest, and when I asked her she said she’d gotten the first flight out of London to get me; and then… Doyle,”

She swallowed, and he took her hand in his, giving her a reassuring squeeze, and she tried not to let her eyes well up only to find it was already too late.

“He stabbed her like he did that night, but it was different this time. She was on the floor, trying to get away, begging me to call for help but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything, and I was trying so hard to scream and tell someone, but I couldn’t…” She sniffled, squeezing his hand so tight it hurt, but he didn’t care, “And he wouldn’t stop. He just kept going, over and over again, and I had to watch every second of it knowing it was my fault,”

The floor was red, a horrible midnight ichor of Emily’s blood seeping from her body, more blood than a person should ever be able to hold. Last time Doyle had killed her, there had been a hairline chance that she would pull through and Emily had beaten all the odds stacked against her.

But this wasn’t like last time. There was no miracle escape to Europe. Bugsy would be surprised if there was even anything left of her to put in the casket.

Her eyes were terrified as she watched Doyle drive the knife into Emily’s skin, the scream lodging in her throat for a reason she couldn’t place. She begged herself to do something, say something, tell the man that she would rip him limb from limb if she ever got the feeling back in her legs, wail for help because that was her sister, her big sister, and she’d stopped moving a while ago.

Stop, stop it, stop it.

But the words wouldn’t come out. She was frozen. Numb. Like someone had unplugged her from the socket, and the only part of her that did work was her eyes, why did it have to be her eyes.

And the blade was red, so red she thought she’d never see anything else other than red again, as so was the floor, and his arms, and Emily’s clothes. Red. All over. Driving into her stomach with a wet squelch that made Bugsy want to vomit.

Over and over and over.

She burst out crying then, the first real emotion she’d shown in days, and he was out of his chair in seconds, cradling her to his chest and shuffling to sit next to her on her bed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it wasn’t real, baby,” He soothed, and she shook her head, her tears soaking his shirt through, and all he could do was stroke her hair down and press gentle kisses to her brow, “You were so brave,”

“And his face changed, and he wasn’t Doyle, it was Hotch. And he-he gave me his gun, and said I had to pick between him or you because one of you had to die and-and I wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t pick-” Her words warbled into his shirt, an amalgamation of sobs and deep breaths in between sentences, but she needed to get it out. It would eat her alive if she didn’t.

“Choose,” It was Hotch’s voice. The same rough edge, same bite he used with the UnSubs they chased, the tone he’d never used on her.

She shook her head, because the feeling had tingled back up her spine into her neck by now, and with it brought her voice, her sorrow.

“No, no, Hotch, please don’t make me, I can’t, I won’t-” She sniffled, looking at the thunderous eyes of her unit chief she’d known for years. He didn’t look like himself, like someone was wearing him as a mask, yet she knew it was him by his steady hands that drew his gun from its holster. He had always been sure of himself.

How had she got here? Had Lewis got to Hotch, brainwashed him into slaughtering and terrorising his own team. Whatever it was, Bugsy knew in her chest that whatever was standing in front of her was not Aaron Hotchner.

“Me or him,” He said simply, as if it was that easy, as if he wasn’t pressing a gun to Spencer’s head.

The sob fell from her lips before she could help it, looking to Hotch’s feet where he held the love of her life bound, his eyes rimmed with fear.

“I can’t, please, I can’t,” She wept, her cheeks soaked, the salt trickling down her neck and into her shirt. Or was it blood. Had she hit her head? Why did her head hurt?

She couldn’t care, couldn’t think of anything other than the fact a monster had taken over the man she thought the world of. She knew if anything happened she would never be able to hold it against him if anything happened, even if it would always be his face in her mind killing Spencer. Because it wasn’t him. It was Lewis. It wasn’t him.

Hotch’s finger clicked a bullet into the chamber, pointing the gun at Spence’s crown, and she warbled in protest, because her legs were still numb, her body from the waist down useless, but this time she could scream and fight and yell all the ways she begged for this to stop.

“Hotch, please, please don’t. It’s not real, it’s not real,” She yawped, her chest in agony, her head spinning because she could have sworn Emily was just here, could have sworn she had been coming to save her. Why was Emily here? And she’d usually be embarrassed to admit it at her big age, but she wanted her sister. She wanted her big sister more than anything, “Hotch,”

But the man who looked and sounded like Aaron Hotchner wasn’t listening. Instead he looked at her with a steely glare, cocking the gun once more between his fingers, “If you’re too much a spoiled little bitch to choose, then I suppose I’ll have to do it for you,”

And with that he pulled the muzzle away from Spencer’s head, and before she could say another word, utter another plea, he angled the weapon under his chin, pointing it straight for his brain, and pulled the trigger.

She thinks she screamed, though her hearing had gone with a staticky blur, his blood spraying across the wall like something out of a slasher movie. She remembered howling in shock, her face soaked with ichor and salted tears, and she expected Spencer to rush forward, grab her in his arms and cradle her with soft words.

But he did. Those hazel eyes she would know in every life time stared blankly at her, all trace of terror gone from his gentle face, and in a whirl of movement, he was standing where Hotch had been, his body gone in a wisp of smoke, like he was nothing more than a magician’s magic act, like her chest hadn’t just cleaved in two at the sight of him dying.

And Spencer took his place, the lips she’d kissed a thousand times pressed into a scowl, the hands she wanted to melt under, to hold her and tell her he was going to fix everything and make it make sense again holding the loaded gun.

And at his feet, bound by the same rope he had been was JJ. Freightened, beaten. Mother, wife, best friend, sister. JJ.

“Choose,” Spencer said, but it was cold and unfeeling. Nothing like the saccharine tone he used with her, and she felt the pit of pain and suffering and dread that had opened in her stomach grow only deeper, “Me or her,”

–

She had cried for about two hours after that, and he had held her for all seven thousand, two hundred seconds of it, stroking her hair, reassuring her that Lewis was gone, the drug disposed of, and more importantly, telling her he would never let anything like that happen to her again, over his cold, lifeless body.

And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer would never let an UnSub get so close to harming the woman he loved. Not a bruise, or a cut. Not even a scratch.

And for the three days they’d kept her in for observation she’d slept, and slept some more like she hadn’t known a wink of rest in years. And with it came the nightmares, of all the people she loved splattering their own brains over the walls, Chose, chose, me or them?

But by the fourth day she was allowed more than one visitor in her room, the spot that had solely been filled by Spencer, who would take to his grave that he’d gone home and washed their clothes of the mess she’d made when she wasn’t herself.

And on that fourth day, the team had arrived with love by the bucket load, because Bugsy was family, and family never let each other suffer alone.

“Oh, look at you!” It was Penelope first, ofcourse it was Penelope first, “Spencer, where’s that cardigan I told you to bring her, she could get cold, and that purple is so her colour- oh what am I saying, come here!”

Penelope bounded over to her bedside, not completely blind to the way Spencer tensed up as she threw her arms around the girl, fighting his urge to chide Garcia into being more gentle because he knew he’d been hogging time with her while the others had been forced to wait.

“Pen,” Bugsy said, breathing out and hugging the woman back as hard as she could, “Why do you smell like lavender?”

Garcia released her clutches (reluctantly) and produced a big tote bag of trinkets, one of which Bugsy suspected was a candle.

“Spencer said they might be keeping you another couple of days and so I brought you some goodies to cheer this place up,” She said with a chirp, reaching in her bag for two stuffed teddies, and Bugsy’s eyes melted when she realised they resembled Niko and Sergio, their colourings not quite identical but the thought had been there, “So you don’t miss your boys too much.”

Bugsy smiled, her chest spreading with warmth “Thankyou so much, Penelope,”

And Garcia went to respond, her smile wide and relieved, when another voice spoke up behind her, “Quite hogging her, mama, there are people waiting to see the kid,”

Penelope rolled her eyes which made Bugsy snicker slightly, moving out the way for Derek to lean over her bedside and give her a tight squeeze.

“You gave us a scare and a half, baby cakes,” He said with a sigh, and she hugged him back the best she could, though his arm muscles were the size of her head.

“I’m sorry,” She murmured, and he patted her on the back gently, before letting her go for the next person waiting to pounce on her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to be sorry,” JJ shushed, her slender arms all but crushing her into her chest, and she heard the breath of relief from the woman’s throat as she stroked a hand over her spine, “Just get better for us, okay?”

And Bugsy knew she didn’t mean the crack in her nose Peter Lewis had given her when he’d grabbed her by the nape of her neck and slammed her face into the wooden door the second Hotch’s back was turned. She meant the screaming. The nightmares. The chill that ran down her spine even now when she looked at every one of her friends and remembered that night. Picturing their brains on the wall, their blood on her face-

“Henry drew you a picture,” JJ said, pulling away and presenting her with her own gift basket full of homemade goodies and fresh pyjamas because the ones she had from the hospital were starting to itch, “He said you needed magic kisses,”

Plucking the card from the front of the wrapping, her lips quirked into a smile when she saw two stick figures, a small dot with yellow hair labelled ‘henry’ with an arrow, and a tall woman with a triangle dress and two glittery wings labelled ‘bugy’, and she was almost certain it was because they had played fairies and princes the last time she had gone over.

She flipped the page, and saw his hand writing scrawled in a green crayon, a few spelling errors here and there where he had tried his best.

‘to bugy

mommy said you wer hurt at work and needed somethink to make you happy agan.

I gave the card majick kisses before mommy takes it to the hospital to make you better agan.

also plees coud we play princes again some time soon.

Love Henry’

She chuckled, her finger stroking over the letters gently, because she could imagine him at his little blue table writing it out for her, and she handed it off to Spencer to put on her bedside table.

“Thankyou JJ,” She said earnestly, and the blonde nodded, squeezing her leg under the blanket gently before she moved over for Rossi to shuffle in, ruffling the girl’s hair because he would joke later that his back couldn’t handle all the movement when really he felt like she’d been mauled with enough affection for one day.

“You okay, kid?” He said, his eyes roving over the bruise on her nose that had bled into her eyes, and she nodded, smiling up at him somewhat convincingly.

“I’m still kicking aren’t I?” She said, and the older man chuckled, shaking his head, “Can’t get rid of me that easily,”

And it was almost true, the small seed of double planting in her own head because for a second in that house she had thought things were done for her. And Spencer had thought the same, judging by the way he nervously cleared his throat, playing with the collars of his shirt.

But Rossi nodded with her, “You kidding? There’s enough life left in you to resurrect all of my dead end marriages,” The team snickered, Rossi squeezing her arm the way grandads do, “Kate sends her love, she had to take Meg to her dance recital, she said she’s dropping by later with good coffee,”

Bugsy took a sigh of pleasure, because she would kill for a steaming cup of good coffee, and Rossi smiled at her attitude they’d all missed in the office.

And then there was Hotch, who looked damn near like a dog with a tail between his legs, sporting his own jagged forehead wound that had been stitched up, his lips pulled into a guilty pout unlike everyone else's grateful beams.

“Bugsy,” He started mournfully, and he swallowed heavily, “I’m-”

“Don’t-” She shook her head, looking up at him from where she’d sat up in the bed to accommodate everyone’s hugging, “It wasn’t your fault, so don’t give me that. He caught us both of guard,”

But he still didn’t look like he quite accepted that answer, settling to reach out and squeeze the hand that was laying across her stomach, his skin warm and rough as he held her like she was cracking glass under his touch.

She realised she had been wrong that day with Lewis, when she’d been damn near shaking in her spot because of the man who looked so much like Hotch, and she saw the fatal flaw that gave it all away.

His face was set in a frown more often than not, and it was for that reason a lot of the agents on the other floors lived in fear of SSA Hotchner’s thunderous tone and barking attitude, but Bugsy knew that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Because while he could be cold and domineering and bossy, his eyes told her all she needed to know.

He was hurt. He was guilty. He was worried. He was mourning. He couldn’t stop seeing Peter Lewis slitting her throat in that flash of a blade. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her incase it was all a dream in itself, that they had never been found, he had never woke up, they had never saved her.

His eyes were haunted by the past twenty years of his life, perhaps what happened even before then because she wasn’t so stupid to miss how he was more rough on child beaters and abusive fathers than he was their usual UnSubs, how he was so extra gentle with Jack, how he hated raising his voice. And inside the big scary exterior, Bugsy saw a boy who only wanted to save everyone because no one was ever there to save him.

She squeezed his hand tightly in hers, pulling him towards her and he’d resisted hugging her to start with because he knew the frog would leap into his throat, but he could never deny her. And he didn’t, he simply leaned over, caressed the back of her head over his shoulder with one of his enormous palms and gave her a warm hug no monster or demon or whatever she had seen could ever be capable of.

And Bugsy felt stupid for ever believing anything she’d seen.

–

They stayed for another hour or so, Derek running out to grab Bugsy a subway because the food at the hospital hadn’t been the best, and she had devoured the steak and cheese footlong so fast Rossi’s brows had raised into his hairline. Spencer handed her a strawberry flavoured pudding pot, the lid already peeled open for her and a spoon.

And it was then a figure came rushing through the door, so fast they were surprised they hadn’t heard the heels on the linoleum and the whole room stopped for a breath, Bugsy dropped her pudding cup down her shirt, barely even making her first bite count.

“Why did no one tell me those two were screwing for eight months?” Emily barked, gesturing between the two agents that cuddled up on the hospital bed, and almost as soon as the pure joy to see her older sister had flooded her body, it ebbed again, and Bugsy rolled her eyes.

“Eleven hour flight, Em, and a buttload of head trauma and that’s all you have to say to me?” She snipped, mopping up her pudding with the edge of her finger.

“I got weekly updates about the consistency of Sergio’s bowel movements but this you missed out?” She threw her hands up, sighing in contempt and almost immediately the girls were bickering like they hadn’t spent a single day apart from one another, but then Spencer supposed that’s what happened when you were blood.

And part of him wondered just who was going to tell Emily about the proposal, the same small part that had gone and bought the ring just yesterday while she’d been sleeping.

He supposed he could live with it being his secret for a few weeks longer.

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